#but not playing nicely with wind noises is going to be a Major Problem

[chaosintheavenue]

Pro: I got new headphones, so I can now hear audio reliably and equally on both sides. I’ve discovered new elements to some songs I’d only ever heard through the old headphones.

Con: Somehow, when I have them in, the sound of the wind outside is amplified to such an alarming degree that I just scratched my own lip trying to rip them out of my ears in a panic to hear what the hell was going on outside.

[sugar-petals]

SuperM Fluff & NSFW Notes

↳ 🌹aka some of their romantic antics plus random 18+ imagines 👋

warnings ⚠️ rated (super) m, boyfriends hc, porn mentions, partial fem!reader, sex toys

FLUFF

since baekhyun knows how to make scented candles, he creates one for you as a birthday present with your favorite fragrances.

every entry in mark’s diary involves fond thoughts about you.

taemin kisses you more than his cat kkoongie on a daily basis so let that sink in. his smooch obsession is getting out of hand.

lucas, having giant fingers after all, learns how to knit in order to make you a warm scarf. he’s still a bit clumsy with it and had to call kun for advice, but the result is surprisingly proper and quickly becomes your favorite item. it’s a little huge but well, he thinks in his dimensions. lucas’ next project is a beanie.

ten overwhelms you with pet names. in fact, he seemingly seems to come up with a new one each day.

kai is a candlelight dinner, rose petals and music kinda guy. he does every old-school thing in the book.

taeyong can cuddle endlessly in bed. he just doesn’t wanna leave.

lucas gladly shares his sweaters. they’re ginormous so, perfect cuddle material.

baekhyun is already a fool. so — when he falls in love, he becomes an even bigger fool. or, the contrary happens: he becomes dead silent around his partner because he’s so enthralled. he can take this more seriously than you think.

mark likes to write little cards and many many texts to express his love.

lucas is the type who can help you put on your jeans when they were shrinking a bit too much in the dryer. he’s pretty sexy like that and things can get really touchy.

cheesy fucking kai, and there’s only one guy who would do this, has actually lowered himself over a puddle once so you would have a bridge. brushed it off like a daily workout rep.

not one shower missed without baekhyun joining you. yes, it’s not always sexy time, he likes it when you shampoo his hair and whisper sweet nothings. and obviously: it’ll all devolve to a laughing fit.

taeyong is the type who wants to be proposed to.

taemin will get a motorcycle license and take you for a frequent ride. he loves getting those kind of back hugs.

both ten and lucas are great at making bracelets. wayv’s dorm is fully equipped with charms, strings, and pearls, so expect matching ones for you.

we’ve seen it, that one’s his favorite move. kai wraps his hand around your shoulder when you walk together.

mark will ALWAYS share his melon.

making you swoon on a DVD evening is lucas’ favorite hobby. he will buy you the most sugary-sweet romance movies. he will often browse streaming sites to select the latest sentimental plots. all these dramas seem to have a male lead who is suspiciously tall and lanky.

if you allow him, taeyong customizes your white tees with his cute drawings.

since taemin swims in money thanks to his profession as the god of kpop (yes, this is a registered job name because i say so), he can fulfill you any wish. he’s stingy and pouty when the shinee hyungs can pay, and the motherfucker baekhyun is even richer since his albums have been taking off so he opens his mochi wallet when superm is gathered, but you... are a different case. taemin will humbly empty his entire pockets when he overhears you gushing over something. there’s a voice in his mind going: must splurge!!

mark loves christmas, you establish an annual tradition to stage a whole couple evening.

baekhyun likes to play charades and especially do karaoke with you. he’s always cutely wiggling his butt and dances like a drunk uncle. he hits the high notes anyway and makes sure you score 100 points.

taeyong can make out with you while at the same time making sure that the milk doesn’t get burned on the stove. kiss’n’stirr multitask tyong alert. gotta make sure the cocoa is served in time, you know.

all the members enjoy playing board games. yep, imagine the fun and sheer chaos.

lucas has the funniest laugh ever indeed. he’ll react to all your jokes, no matter how lame they might be. intensely reassuring.

taemin’s hand is basically glued to yours.

taeyong and mark are the kinds of boyfriends that spoil their partner with skincare. fancy a nice face massage with a nice fragrant oil?

baekhyun has been baking heart-shaped pizzas ever since you started dating. he just can’t make them round anymore.

mark will join you on anything you’re currently bingewatching. 

kai sometimes — only half-jokingly — goes down on both knees bowing forward with his hands on the ground just to show how much he wants to thank you. in case you didn’t notice: this guy treats you like a deity.

ten usually gets confused glances from the other members whenever he gets the current date wrong: he simply loses track of time with you.

lucas makes a habit of buying you flowers every other week. but on unpredictable occasions, and he arranges them in places you’d never expect.

taemin will build you a weird-looking snowman to make you laugh, and give it an even stranger name. ten will build one that looks like you. kai doesn’t build snowmen, he just stands there challenging you to throw snow balls at him.

mark will hang out with you at the beach constantly bringing his guitar. he’ll serenade you all the time.

returning from three months of touring, baekhyun has once climbed your balcony when your parents were in the other room. yep, he was that desperate to see you. somebody give this man a rope and helmet.

taeyong writes down heartfelt confessions on 365 folded slips of paper so you can open one every day. your reactions will range from ‘awwh!’ to straight-up tears.

ten does regular couple yoga with you. a mildly challenging form, not the circus acrobat version. he’ll do the difficult parts anyway. you can pretzel this guy up, he’ll do anything to make you laugh.

when it rains you hook your arm around his, and lucas always holds the umbrella. even the wildest gush of wind can’t make it turn inside out. you arrive home entirely dry. xuxi is so cute, he’s also a great source of cooling shadow in the summer without even trying.

taemin’s skinship overdrive doesn’t stop with endless hand-holding, back hugs and kisses. he wants to lay down in your lap whenever he can. he looks damn pretty with his hair splaying there. if you work on your laptop, you can pretty much count to ten and he’s already nestled there.

kai does pushups with you on his back. it’s a staple. each time he does one, he says ‘i love you’. he increases his count every day.

NSFW

it’s no secret that taeyong is great at acting or pulling off any outfit and costume. expect roleplay of the finest kind — literally. he looks good in a firefighter uniform. you’ll be burning up pretty much automatically.

taemin can’t keep his tongue in. it’s terrible. he’s always in the mood for head. his sloppy noises are the absolute worst, it turns you on way too fast.

lucas had some major problems finding condoms that fit him.

ten and taemin are so switchy, they have an unresolved power struggle going on. begs for a dominant third party to help them out.

kai owns expensive latex gear.

baekhyun may be the king of vocals and breath technique, but if you push him far enough he does get hoarse.

taemin often jokes how kai will one day break his dick from fucking too hard.

meanwhile, mark’s dick is already falling off – from fucking too often. this guy has some major hormones going for him. no surprise, a guy who can promote in four kpop groups at the same time is a stamina king.

taeyong likes eating pussy with another party involved. three’s a crowd my friend. sometimes it’s taemin who unleashes his spit waterfall power, sometimes it’s baekhyun who preoccupies himself with nibbling at the inner thigh while taeyong digs in.

taemin owns the most underwear.

mark takes valerian drops because he is so nervous in bed. it never really goes away, it’s his nature.

taeyong keeps a lube collection. a different flavor for all occasions. he likes associating certain scents with specific body parts.

kai has a heels kink. he literally goes wild over it.

taemin likes to have sex with favorite glasses on.

taeyong and kai are the most likely to cry during sex. baekhyun as well if you rough him up enough. 

mark gets rock hard the fastest, followed by kai. he’s a grower.

taeyong gets the best inspiration for a song when he gets a casual dick riding.

taemin watches extremely x-rated erotic thrillers and bdsm flicks that are heavy on the plot. he gets more invested in the characters and actors than you think. since his japanese is amazing? of course he also owns a giant 90s hentai collection. 

when he’s jerking off, baekhyun chokes himself. a) because he’d make too much noise otherwise and b) because asphyxiation is his favorite thing.

kai feels pleasure in his every cell. he cums the hardest. and, as you can expect, his body expresses it the most extremely, accurately, passionately. if you’ve seen it even once, you’ll never look at him the same again.

taemin has less experience than his discography claims, but more than you’d think. he researches sexual techniques as well. you can brace yourself.

mark has not just a tiger inside, but a freak inside, waiting to be unleashed.

sex while gaming is a go-to activity for baekhyun.

lucas has the best stamina when it comes to getting head.

taemin throws his head back during sex. and no, he doesn’t T-pose. i’m kidding — of course he does. but only when he’s on his back.

taeyong tends to grip a pillow when he cums.

or he humps one when he’s by himself.

ten has the best taste in sexy time playlists.

baekhyun has the best taste in singing his own playlist along.

oh, the things kai has bought at a gas station at 3AM.

baekhyun sucks strap the best. he can open his mouth the widest, drools a lot, and makes the best noises unsurprisingly.

how to turn on lee taemin? he likes getting slapped.

since he’s the most avid and most diverse eater, lucas’ sperm tastes the best. he’s shove 50 fruits into his system just to give you a sweet experience.

mark is absolutely a starfish. 

kai wears fishnet tops if you fancy it.

curiously, baekhyun out of all people doesn’t announce when he’s cumming. you’ll hear it, though.

taeyong’s dildo collection is one for the books.

taemin has visited a pro dominatrix a couple times. needless to say, he was the #1 favorite client at the dungeon. having fully submerged into a fantasy world, taemin was one whip crack away from falling in love with the mistress. but then covid happened and the venue closed.

mark’s dick looks really pretty.

taemin can grind on the strap at every humanly possible angle. he’s almost always ready to take it. he carries a prep kit.

kai — that fucker — knows how to make you wet the most with his bare hands. prepare for the thigh ride of your life, too.

taeyong, baekhyun, and taemin have the best arches. kai is coming for the top three as well. ten’s arch is so good, it can’t be considered one anymore.

baekhyun knows every adult movie out there. theoretically, nothing can shock him. in reality, he melts in your hands.

taeyong is so sexually active with you, he has quit eating garlic.

kai will exploit your muscle kink in any way he can.

taemin, being a devil, has that one button on his phone that he can press when you go out for dinner. he’s OBSESSED with getting you off. once you head home, it’s basically running down your thighs.

ten has once opened a condom with scissors to scare away a date that grew weird on him by the time it got to the do.

lucas is too tall for doing missionary normally.

this will surprise nobody: mark is great at constantly keeping up the dirty talk.

baekhyun’s car is sort of like a brothel on wheels. he can’t count how many times he got down and dirty in there. he cleans it all up by himself.

kai can technically grip you the hardest but he’s the gentlest and great at caressing the whole body.

taemin has the easiest time saying what precisely he wants. he is also the best people reader — most your wishes he can pretty intuit. taemin observes your interests well.

ten likes his hair pulled and makes angelic noises when you do so.

baekhyun likes camgirls and erotic chats with strangers online. he spends a lot of money for nsfw internet encounters.

[misselko]

LIONESS

Warnings: Angst, fluff, small violence

Words: 20.130

 

“Begin.”

Loud clashing of lances can be heard through Garreg Mach hallway.

The red-haired skirt chaser barely able to hear you said it when you rushed him. Sylvain knew that he should focus on his strikes.  He didn’t have time to be impressed at this small, petite girl that is jabbing her lance so fast against him. Devastatingly fast. And strikingly strong. ‘It is such a wonder how a small, petite body like hers held so much power’. That’s the last thing that passed his mind before (Y/N)’s lance has cracked so loudly against his that he thought it might snap. Beautiful, fierce, deadly (E/C) orbs that staring into his soul has captivated the Gautier heir and got him hard knock on his shin, felling him over.

“Whoa there! I yield. You do like it rough, don’t you, (Y/N)?” Sylvain raise his hands on the air with and winks seductively. Rolling your eyes, you put a light tap on his neck at his remarks.

“Though she be but little, she is fierce. (Y/N) is the youngest among us, but she is indeed a Lioness!” Dimitri claps over your third in a row winning for today. You beat Felix in sword and Dimitri in the lance spar.

“That’s what you get for skipping classes, Sylvain. And.. keep up with your solid techniques, excellent moves, and rapid quick footwork, (Y/N). That’s all for our combat class today,” said Professor.

“She’s a few inch shorter than me but she had effortlessly defeated Blue Lions’ strongest lancer and swordsman! That’s my favourite lil sis (Y/N) for you!! ” said Annette giddily. She hugs you in a death grip embrace and sings her silly song.

Everyone are so nice to you, to the point of spoiled rotten! Especially Ingrid and Mercie! They are like your big sisters, always offering their help to ride pegasi and give endless supplies of baked sweets that you love very much. Felix is kinda harsh and always eager to spar with you, but he’s the first person to get angry when someone bullies you because you are so small. So kind, almost feel like a big brother! Dimitri helps you with your late night studies and picking books in the higher shelves on the library a lot. Dedue and Ashe cook dinner together with you on your duty day.

They see (Y/N) as the sweet smol bean that has to be protected at all cost!

“Are you free tonight, Munchkin?” Care to join me to visit the town and get something to eat? I know this little restaurant that has nice dessert! My treat, of course! Think of it as a token of congratulations from me on your brilliance today!” Sylvain put his hand on your shoulder in a friendly gesture and wink seductively.

“Seteth will scold us for sure, Syl! This is the fourth or fifth time we went for a late dinner this week,” you pout at his invitation. “He won’t. I’ll walk you back before curfew as usual. Don’t want my Kitten to get  hurt on her way back. Night walk can be dangerous, you know.”

“Why you are being so nice to me, Syl... Your girls will be upset and kill me for sure.”

“Nah.. I don’t have any! It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful evening alone. Besides, I don’t want to let my Munchkin starved in her sleep! Not to mention that you just looked awfully cute with your cheeks stuffed.” You smacked his shin and rewarded with a loud yelp from him.  “Lead the way. And.. it’s not like I like it or something like that, you know! Don’t get any wrong ideas,” you hide your blush and took his huge hand in your tiny ones.

The food was delightful as usual and Sylvain stay true to his words about going back before the curfew.

As you both closed the large door’s that marked the dormitory, you were greeted by the crisp spring night. Warm wind passed over your forms, and crickets chirped in the night.

“While we’re at it, how about a little board games rematch at my quarters? I got a new strategy to show you, Syl!”

“Bring it on then, (Y/N)! Let’s bring some sweet buns as usual to snack on later as well, then.”

“It’s a deal!”

“I’d think playing it on the bed would be more comfortable than doing it on the floor. You might catch another cold and passed out like last month in my room. It scared the living daylights out of me! Nope, never trying that again.”

“It’s not fun being frail and get sick easily.” You sigh.

“No problem. Think of it as a good chance for me to get to carry you around in my arms. For our weddi-- Ouch!!” he faux a sad face melodramatically when you punch his hand away playfully. “You might be small and petite but these hands are a force to be reckoned with. You’re as strong as a lioness,” said the philanderer as he ruffled your hair affectionately.

 

It was such a beautiful night.

---

“Do you have a moment, Miss (Y/N)? I have something important to tell you regarding my research and your Crest. We can discuss it in more detailed manner in my research room,” Professor Hanneman ask you out of the blue after the afternoon battle strategy class.

 

“Crest? But I’m sure I don’t have any, Professor! It’s stated as clear as a day in my enrollment documents, isn’t it?”

 

“There’s a mistake, Miss (Y/N). And I sworn it on my name as the Father of Crestology, you do HAVE a Crest. A Major one at that! Congratulations! I have sent a letter to your family and inform other Professors and your House Leader regarding this matter. I have my suspicion about your Crests since I watch your  prowess at combat and when it activates, the timing, and the flash of....”

 

You are a bit shocked about this and decided to ignore this fact, having a hard time to process this shocking information. Your family and other members of Blue Lions will be very surprised of this information. Is it going to be a good thing or not? Professor Hanneman’s murmurs fell on your deaf ears as you politely excuse yourself out of his room. ‘It’ll be better to keep this as a secret to avoid unwanted attention nor unnecessary commotion’ you think to yourself.

---

Moons have passed. Then the night of the ball came. Urged by your curiosity, you are eager to wait for your true love at the Goddess Tower. You were hardly expecting to see Sylvain, of all people. The surprise at seeing each other was mutual. The both of you stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the scene before you. You wrapped your arms around yourself to stave off the chill that went down your spine, shuffling closer to the older man.

 

“Do you even believe the rumors about this place?” he asked as he lay his uniform coat over your shivering form. “My curiosity gets the best of me. But am glad to find you here, Syl.”

 

“Huh.” Sylvain went quiet, his face etched with contemplation. After he thought about it a little, he let out a huff of breath and frowned.

 

“Well, the person I’m interested in... is already here. You’re here alone. I’m here alone. I was thinking maybe....”

“Wait. Me?”

“Well, of course! We’re the only two people here, aren’t we? I keep thinking about it, and it just makes sense. My Crest and yours...”

“How did you...?”

“Dimitri told me. I have confirmed it with Professor Hanneman as well. A Major one, he said. So lucky.”

He looked down at you menacingly. Your eyes were averted away from his, looking away into the distance. “What do you mean? I’m still me, Syl.  Crest or no Crest.”

Despite your dismissive answer, something changed in his expression. He took his hands from behind his neck and stalked towards you. This wasn’t at all like the kind and flirty Sylvain you loved. He’s... different.

“You know what? I’m a bit jealous. The whole time you were growing up, you never knew you had a Crest. You were free. Nobody pretended to like you. I kind of hate you for that...” he slammed you hard against the wall behind you. Strangled pained noise came from you.

His knees rest on either side of your petite body and his arms cage your head, his much bigger hand grasp yours roughly. “All you’re worth to me is a little bit of fun. We’ve been having fun, haven’t we? I thought that you understood,” Sylvain’s face a mere inch from yours, glaring daggers at you. You can feel your tears begin welling, threatening to spill at his words.

 

“Is that really what you think of me? I thought... I was different. So… our friendship has just been for nothing?” you muttered quietly, holding back your sobs.

 

He scoffed. “Of course you are. You’re just some dumb noble looking for crest babies. You never meant anything to me.” His rejection was validation of your worst fear, that you were just like every other girl. Your friendship had all fallen apart and meant nothing for him.

 

“Playing around with girls is the most fun a guy can have. Besides, I don’t care what you think of me. I don’t intend to change how I live my life. I’m a good-for-nothing, if you haven’t noticed, but I’m still a noble with a Crest. That’s all anyone cares about. It’s best to avoid getting too serious with fools like me.” His expression darkens and unreadable. The carefree mask was long gone.

 

“My Crest bring me nothing but pain. I thought maybe...if I made someone else suffer, it might help me feel better.” His hand shot up and grabbed you by your throat. Sylvain held you in front of him, tightened his grip, choking you hard. His caramel eyes glowed dark with excitement.

 

“Unnnghhh......Syl....”

You tried to squirm away but he clamped his hand tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. Your legs felt weak and limp. The pain was too intense.

 

“You were a spoiled brat who should pay for that Crest. Maybe I’ll collect the debt.” His expression dark as he looked up at you.

 

Focusing yourself, you punch his jaw as hard as you can. To your surprise, a blinding flash of your Crest shows up when you smack him as hard as you can, making Sylvain flinch in pain, dropping you with a loud thud on the cold floor. You stumbled back and dropped to your knees. Gasping for air, you tried to rub the pain from your throat, doing your best to pick yourself up.

 

“Sylvain Jose Gautier!  I care not for your Crest nor title! It means nothing to me. I like.. no, love you because you are the strongest, kindest, funniest, and the most caring person that I know. Even you are such a skirt chaser, but you always very considerate and protective of me. I never felt this way before about someone. This is my first time but... This… This was a mistake. Sorry. I hope.. you find your own happiness someday,” you said, your voice is raspy from his deadly grip and your sadness. Tears were finally flowing freely from you.

 

Sylvain’s posture becoming rigid despite his feigned relaxed position. “H-hey,” Sylvain said, his voice softened somewhat. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry...”, he tried to pat your head, but you step back instinctively. The red head flinch and turned away when he saw angry purplish hue on your neck. Guilt began creeping on his conscience.

 

“I believe you. You’re not a bad person, Sylvain, no matter what anyone says. I care about you. Our friendship, dinners, late nights walk and banters... I cherished them a lot. Really, I do. I love you, Sylvain.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t look at anything besides the floor. “That’s what I came to tell you, but... nevermind. Good night, Syl. I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

 

“Did you mean that? (Y/N), wait!” He spoke with disbelief.

“Why would I lie?” you asked, hardly audible. “Goodbye, Syl.”

 

His pleas fell on deaf ears as you dash yourself as fast as possible from Goddess Tower, locking yourself inside your quarters, clutching to Sylvain’s uniform coat, while crying yourself to sleep.

---

That’s the last thing that you can remember from your Academy Days. Things were never the same since that night. You never talk to the playboy ever again since that incident. No more night walks or late board games. When you have to work together in weekly duty, there’s an unseen awkward distance and heavy tension between you two.

 

The notorious philanderer went back into his old ways, going around with a different girl each day. You often catch him glimpse at you with eyes full of remorse and sadness (mostly when he thinks you aren’t looking or noticing). Everyone in the Blue Lions noticed the changes between your relationship but being very considerate of your feelings and trying to not mention anything about it.

 

Your Father called you back home because of his grave illness in Pegasus Moon, insisting you to leave the Officers Academy behind. Blue Lions was taken aback and sad with your abrupt leave. Going back to your home in Fhirdiad, days flies in a blur motion into moons and years.

---

It’s been 5 years since you left your Academy days in Garreg Mach.

A bloody coup led by Cornelia causes Duke Rufus and Dimitri both to be apparently killed. Her  tyranny left Fhirdiad in poor state with poverty and famine. Holy Kingdom of Faerghus thrown into disarray condition with their Prince’s disappearance. The nation is plagued by civil strife and hardship.

 

With the vast majority of the former Kingdom lords having bent the knee to the overwhelming power of the Empire, all Blaiddyd territory, including the Kingdom capital, is ruled by those who are cooperating with the Empire, and is thus renamed the Faerghus Dukedom. Houses Fraldarius and Gautier were left to spearhead the resistance as the primary opponents of the Dukedom.

 

As the legitimate Marchioness of your major noble house in Blaiddyd territory after her Father’s passing, (Y/N) decided to keep on fighting against Empire until the bitter end, along with Houses of Fraldarius, Gautier, and Galatea. You keep maintain close relationships them, mostly with the neighbouring Houses, Fraldarius and Galatea. Whether it may be reinforcements soldiers to House Fraldarius or stock supplies to House Galatea, you are so much eager to give it all (sometimes by going there personally—much to your advisors’ dismay) to aid them.  Being always giving or adding the most relevant information about current war state developments made you overjoyed when you heard about the news of Dimitri’s plan to recapture Fhirdiad.

---

It’s been forever since your last time fighting on the battlefield. Reclaiming the capital is a daunting task with shortage of soldiers and resources. Rodrigue’s death is a devastating blow to Faerghus’ military strength and resources. Not to mention that House Gautier and Galatea has any resources to spare. With limited resource of your own House, you decided to prioritize evacuation of Faerghus’ citizens and helping Blue Lions to the utmost.

 

Dimitri marches for Fhirdiad, causing the oppressed citizens to revolt against Cornelia’s tyranny People are rebelling against Cornelia and Fhirdiad has turned into a gruesome battlefield. Fire was everywhere The sound of metals echoed loudly in your ears. Large Titanus crowded the streets and wreaking havoc upon buildings and citizens. With your sword in your hands, you leap and cut through Kingdom Soldiers that is preparing to activate Viskam turrets against Felix.

 

You pushed forward with great caution. When you are done helping a pair of elders and children under the rubbles to evacuate, you saw him. Sylvain. Fighting over a mage and a large Titanus all by himself. Did he get separated? He barely dodged a fireball when you strike down that mage.

 

“Munchki--!” He gasped, surprised to see you back.

“Watch out, Syl!”

You leap in front of him, parrying and slash back at the Titanus’ large appendages that is going to smash him. Sylvain cast a Ragnarok and taking down the golem-like creature with a loud explosion, sending flying debris everywhere. He gasped, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the way. 

 

“Ugh... that hurts. Are you okay, Munchkin?” He was trapped under the rubbles and the first thing that he asked is your safety?

“W-why did you do that, Syl? You got hurt protecting me. Didn’t you want to kill me?”, you said as you helped him out from the rubble.  Fortunately he is okay aside from a few scratch and bruises.

 

“When I thought you were going to be killed for real, my reflexes kicked in. I reacted without thinking. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being jealous of you. But, come on, I can’t help looking up to you.” He look at you with eyes full of worry and sadness.

 

“Sylvain..... Well.. It’s been awhile, but as much as I want to chat with you, we have to help Professor and Dimitri first. Cornelia has brought us so many sufferings. Now’s the time to put an end to all of this. And... thank you, Syl.” He nods and push forward to throw his lance at a Pegasus Knight that is fighting against Ingrid.

 

“I will go to deactivate Titanus’ lever. I know its location and it will help everyone tremendously against that gigantic monster! I’ll open Fhirdiad’s secret passages within my House territory to help everyone to get better access to Cornelia. When I’m done with it, I’ll regroup with reinforcement soldiers from my House to evacuate more citizens on the east side of Royal Capital, then go to help Dimitri fighting against Cornelia. See you later, Syl. Please stay safe.” You bid your farewell and run through smaller alley path, doing your missions, leaving Sylvain astonished at your very thorough, detailed plans.

 

Without the Titanus, Cornelia only has archers as her backups. As you take the archers down with Felix and Annette, Professor and Dimitri are working together to close in on her and take her down. It was a gruesome battle, but thanks to everyone’s efforts, casualties were kept to minimum and reclaiming Fhirdiad is a big success after Cornelia has been defeated.

---

It may be spring, but the nights are quite chilly here in Fhirdiad. The people are rejoicing at the return of their King. After a hard won battle of reclaiming Royal Capital of Fhirdiad, celebratory feast shows no sign of stopping. Growing weary of the festivities, you decided to excuse yourself from the banquet at the castle balcony.

“Munchkin. Here you are. His Highness has been looking for you. He wanted to express his gratitude for your loyalty and huge help at reclaiming Fhirdiad.”

“Good evening, Syl. We just did our utmost to help. Fhirdiad’s  peace and safety of the Blue Lions is of the most important thing for me, after all.”

A moment of silence passed where both of you stayed still, just basking in the moonlight and enjoying each others’ presence for a while.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” You are taken aback when Sylvain bows his head deeply in front of you.

“I know I messed up really bad and it’s fair enough if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me. My jealousy got the best of me and it has brought you so much harm. Most girls just want me for my title or my Crest, and when I thought that it was the same for you, I… I was the one who made a mistake. I’m sorry, truly I am.” Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you could see the furrow of Sylvain’s brows, the frowning twist of his lips. It was a look you’d never seen on him. Regret and pain. He looks so vulnerable. Somehow, you didn’t doubt the apology.

“Please elaborate, Syl.”

“Since I bear a Crest, my parents made sure I was never left wanting. My older brother didn’t have one, and so when I was born, he was pushed aside. My mere existence stole everything from him. There’s so many people that want to get close to me because of my crest. Because of something I didn’t even want to be born with. I wish I could have cared as little about my Crest as you do yours...,” he grimaces, running a hand through his hair briskly. “Women smile at me for the same reason my parents adored me...and my brother wanted me dead. And I have to meet them all with a smile because I have a Crest.” Sylvain purses his lips.

 

“But you–you’ve never treated me differently. Always being there for me and understand me, and…and–I like you, (Y/N). No. I love you so much that it scared me. A lot,” he says, closing his eyes.

 

“You say that, but it doesn’t excuse the things you’ve done.” You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to let him see mixed expression you were making at  his sudden confession but you knew he was looking at you. Intently.

 

“I was devastated when you left Garreg Mach years ago. I lost you once and I won’t let it happen again. So.... what I’m saying is…” he hesitated and briefly appeared at a loss of words which is very unlike of him.

He hugs you closer very tightly it hurts, cradling you gently against his chest. This close, you can feel the rapid pace of his heart and his nervousness. “Can you give me a second chance?” Sylvain’s touch was awkward and clumsy.

“......I will. But first… Please let me go, Syl. You are crushing me.”

Sylvain paused, as if unsure. “Did you mean that?” Vulnerability colored his tone, softened it. “I’d like to be a man who deserves that. Who deserves you. Even if you want nothing to do with me, one day I will find a way to make it up to you, to earn your forgiveness. I promise.” His voice wasn’t strong with his infamous flirtatious bravado. It was sincere.

 

“You’re so much more than just your Crest or your status, Sylvain Jose Gautier.” Taking his much bigger hand in your tiny ones, you smiled and whisper it against his hand. “You are the most amazing, kind, strongest, and nice man for me. Your path is your own.  I love you just the way you are, Sylvain. Crest or no Crest.” His face turned dark red instantly redder than his hair at your words. Sylvain.exe has stopped working

“You are going to be the death of me, Munchkin!!” Sylvain yells frantically. You can see his ears flushed furious red. He can die happy now. Goddess Sothis please take his soul.

“Why you still call me Munchkin, Syl?” you asked much to your curiousity. “It’s been years but you barely grow a few inch! But y-Ouch!! He yelps when you jab at his stomach. “But you have... grown into a fine, smart, and beautiful woman.”

 

“Time hasn’t been so kind to me in these past years, Syl. After my Father’s passing, I have to succeed him. Being a Marchioness isn’t an easy task but I learned so much and am still learning.”

 

“My sincerest condolences for your loss. But... he must be very proud of you, Munchkin. You will be a great Marchioness. Strong, thorough, quick-witted, and lovely as a—”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Gautier.” You rolled your eyes at him. The redhead laughs softly and embrace you in his arms.

 

“When this war is over, will you come with me to my homeland? It’s time for the first step in the right direction. I don’t want to marry a girl who wants to use me for my Crest or a girl who someone else chose for me. I want to marry someone I really care about. With you by my side, I’m excited to find out what this new way of life is all about. (Y/N), I’m serious. Marry me. I’d do anything for you. I’m done lying, especially to myself. I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together trying to make you happy. I promise.”

 

 “I’d like to.... introduce you to my parents. They’d love to have a new Gauti—Gyaahh!!!” He shrieked when you stomped your feet on him. “I’m so DONE with you, Syl!!” you said with exasperated look, looking away trying to hide the rising heat in your cheeks. ‘A future with Sylvain...’

 

There’s a pause when you catch his gaze and find something vulnerable there, something familiar. The flicker of hope, mirrored in your expression. It’s as if everything falls into place and clicks. Then his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant, so unlike his usual self. Your eyes fluttered shut, your lips moulding against his, as his hand came up to cup your cheek. It was all the confession you needed.

 

“I will, Syl. I promise.”

---

Bonus:

When Professor and the Blue Lions heard about your new relationship with Sylvain, they offer you heartfelt congratulations and throw a little dinner party. Dimitri is OVERJOYED and sobs a little when he saw you are radiating with so much happiness. Back then in your Academy days, he was the one who worry about you the most when Sylvain treated you poorly, after all. Ashe and Dedue throw a lavish dinner to celebrate (Y/N) and Sylvain’s relationship that evening. Mercedes and Annette provide everyone with tasty sweets and dessert. It was a heartwarming small party among Blue Lions members.

Sadly, Sylvain didn’t get to celebrate it together. Rumors had it that Felix and Ingrid has beaten him to a bloody pulp (with Professor’s EXCLUSIVE permission) because he made you their lovely sweet lil sis wept and hurt. Sylvain kept on mumbling something between “Don’t ever hitting another girl”, “RUIN his Lance of Ruin”, “Don’t ever taint her”, or “You’re finished”. Even the kind and benevolent Mercie turned her back and refuse to heal Sylvain. The Gautier heir almost went to hell that evening.

 

The poor, traumatized philanderer will changing his ways for the better for sure.

[irelanddesires]

Ny Början- Chapter 1

Pairing:  André Burakovsky x reader

Warnings: Fluff, eventual smut, hockey violence, domestic violence (in the beginning), idk probs more.

Summary:  With the help of a group of unsuspecting heroes you are saved from a toxic relationship. One of your saviors goes above and beyond anything you could ask for. A friendship is forged and after awhile feelings happen. Could ths be your happy ending? 

A/N: Hi I’m trash and this idea has rolled around in my head for w e e k s. I’ve played hockey for a really long time and the Avs are my team... Burky happens to be my hockey crush so I figured I would share this. IDK what it is but this challenged me a lot and I can’t write a guys perspective to save my life ffs. Dialogue is hard my doods. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think! 

Going to the club was the last thing you wanted to do. Between working two jobs and trying to stay on top of your classes it didn’t leave much free time and you didn’t want to spend that sparse time dealing with drunk people and loud music. Your boyfriend, Matthew, had insisted that this was exactly what you needed after the week you had. At this point you both had been there long enough to see friends call it a night and you were pretty sure that Matthew was one drink away from making a fool out of himself. 

“Matt, can we please go?” you asked, hoping that he would finally agree. 

“Loosen up! We never get to spend time together. Let’s enjoy this!” he practically yelled. 

“We’ve been here long enough. It’s late and I have an early shift tomorrow.” you urged. At this point you wanted to go home, get out of this dress and crawl into bed. Nothing at this bar held your attention. Matt’s had grabbed your arm, his face inches from yours.

“I said no. We’re not going anywhere. I’m not finished here.” he ground out. 

The look on his face left little room for argument and was quite scary. Matt was usually a nice guy, the perfect boyfriend, but after drinking he could become a totally different person. Matt had never hit you but the emotional toll it took on you could be just as painful as a physical blow. After the week you’ve had of working 12-14 hour days just to come home and clean before passing out just to do it all over again made you throw all caution to the wind. You wanted to go home for fucks sake, not be here. 

You snached your arm from his grip, looking him in the eyes, “I’m tired, I’m going home. You can stay if you want but I’m not.” 

Before he could say anything you spun on your heels and marched out the side door that led to a less busy street. You hoped this would give you some peace and quiet as you ordered your Uber. Just as you tapped the app to get an Uber the door behind you swung open. Matt stumbled through the doorway and onto the sidewalk with you. 

“You can’t leave me,” he said. 

“Matt, I’m going home to sleep. I don’t care what you do.” 

“I said no!” he roared. Before you could comprehend what was happening your head snapped back and you were pushed against the outside wall of the bar. The brick dug into your skin as you tried to struggle against the hands holding you there. 

“Why don’t you ever listen to me you bitch.” he said as his fingers dug into your throat, “If I tell you to do something you fucking do it!” 

Panic seized your chest as his hands circled around your throat. The throbbing in your head forgotten about as your fight or flight instincts kicked in. You tried to kick him as hard as you could but it seemed like he wasn’t phased at all by it. Your hands grabbed onto his, your fingernails digging into his skin trying to get any distance between his hands and your throat. Just as spots began to dance around your vision the same door you both had exited from swung open and a group of people spilled out. 

Before you could try and scream for help one of them turned around and spotted you. His face went from relaxed and playful to murderous in seconds. You didn’t have time to gather your thoughts before he was charging both of you, shoving Matt off of you. You fell to the ground in a pile, your muscles felt like jello but your brain screamed at you to run. Looking up at the situation happening in front of you all you could see was the back of the stranger that had come to your rescue. His friends had caught on quick and made it over to stand around you too, like shields between you and Matt,  as you gathered yourself. 

“Is there a problem?” One of them said, the voice sounded like it came from the one that had charged Matt but your brain couldn’t comprehend everything that was happening. 

Matt stumbled to his feet before looking at the mystery men. “Mind your business” he slurred. 

“I don’t think so. You want to get to her, you have to go through us.” a voice called out. 

For a moment it looked like Matt was considering it. His eyes scanned each guy before landing on you. 

“This isn’t over you fucking bitch!” he yelled before turning around and making his way back into the bar. 

The door didn’t have time to shut all the way before one of your saviors crouched down in front of you. His hazel eyes searched your face, “ Are you okay?” he asked 

As much as you wanted to tell him your entire body felt weighed down, you bit back your weakness,

 “I’m fine.” you said as you began to try and stand. It took a couple tries to get your feet under you. You tried to use what energy you had to stand, you were nearly there when your legs went to give out. Hands caught you around your waist and pulled you the rest of the way up. 

“You don’t look fine” the mystery man said and he held onto you, carrying the majority of your weight. “Look, let me get you somewhere safe and I can take you home”

You looked at him, searching his face for dishonesty. At this point you figured that someone, or a group of people, that came to your rescue surely couldn’t be bad people. You silently agreed for his help with a nod of your head. 

The rest of the time you spent with the group of them went by in a blur. They all talked amongst themselves in whispers, every now and then you caught words. At one point you caught the name “André” and you assumed this was the name of the guy holding you up. Before long a car pulled to the curb and your stranger opened the door for you before helping you inside. None of the other guys followed so you assumed they were getting their own Uber. 

The ride was silent for a few moments before his voice broke through, “I’m André by the way” 

“Y/N” 

“I didn’t know where you would want to go so I figured you could come to my place and then decide what you want to do,” he said. 

You looked at him and nodded, whispering a “thank you” as you settled into the seat. You shouldn’t feel comfortable about going home with a guy you just met outside a bar but for some reason you felt safe with him. He gave off a genuine arua of concern and wanting to help. Before you could think about it too much your world faded to black and you let your exhausted and battered body rest. 

_______________________________

Having a night off from hockey was rare. What was even more rare was being able to have a guys night with some of the team. Most of the time when games weren’t being played or practice were being held, everyone would go their own ways. Some would spend time with their significant other, some would spend time alone or some would visit family if the break was long enough. 

Tonight a few of us had decided to let loose and bar hop across Denver. Usually this time of year the weather was starting to get cooler which made bar hopping more of a chore. Tonight however, the weather was perfect which gave us plenty of reason to have some fun. 

The first bar we went to was picked by Miko. He said this was the best bar in Denver with the hottest chicks so more than a few in our group were eager to get there. 

The outside of the building was modern with sleek black walls and the walls that weren’t stone were see-through glass. Through the windows we could see people dancing with lights strobing through the air.

 We quickly made our way inside and were ushered to a VIP section, one of the many perks of playing professional sports was getting recognized when out since it usually led to getting a more private area. The captain of the team was with us so of course we were bound to be recognized. 

We all bounced around from group to group chatting and drinking. Some of the guys had found partners to dance with while the rest of us just hung out. Time passed and we all were eventually some level of intoxicated, some more than others. Nate brought up the idea of heading to the Pur, a rooftop bar with a chill atmosphere. A group of us thought that was a great plan. The constant bass and flashing lights got old as the night wore on. 

The five of us; Gabe, Nate, Miko, Gru and myself headed toward the back door. We hoped we could escape quietly and back doors were usually best for doing that. 

The heavy door swung shut behind us as we spilled into the cool Denver night. A noise caught my attention, turning my head to see who else was out here, I was met with a scene I wasn’t expecting. A man had a woman pinned to the side of the building. Her feet dangled off of the ground and her hands gripped his that were circling around her throat. Time seemed to stop and instinct took over as I rushed to them. Before I could comprehend what I was doing my fist was sailing through the air, connecting with the man's face before he fell to the ground. The girl slumped to the side of the building in a heap. Concern for her swam through my body but I knew this guy had to leave before I could help her. 

The man stumbled to his feet. By now the guys had joined me, putting ourselves between the pair. 

“Is there a problem?” Gave asked

“Mind your business” the man mumbled. 

Rage burned through my body and it took everything in me to not pummel this guy. 

“I don’t think so.” I called out. 

The man took a moment. His eyes scanned each one of us. He must have eventually decided he was outnumbered and didn’t want to take his chances. 

“This isn’t over you fucking bitch!” He yelled before stumbling through the door we had just come out of. Relief flooded me now that we didn’t have a fight on our hands. A whimper from behind me had me turning and dropping to my knees. 

“Are you okay?” I asked. My eyes scanned over her checking for major injuries. Her breathing hitched as she tried to push herself up to stand. Halfway up her legs seemed to give way. Before she could tumble to the ground I grabbed her, hauling her to her feet and holding as much of her weight as I could. 

Her hands tangled in my shirt holding on for dear life. There’s no way she would be able to make it home and I didn’t trust leaving her like this with a stranger. Looking around the group of guys, Gabe was the first to speak up. 

“What’s your plan? Get an Uber?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I think I will take her to my place. I have a spare room she can sleep in and she can figure out something in the morning” 

The guys nodded in agreement. No one wanted to leave her alone right now. Especially not with her angry boyfriend, or ex boyfriend I hope, on the loose. 

“I’ll get you guys an Uber,” Gru piped up. 

“Thanks” I muttered, turning my attention back to the girl clinging on to me. 

The rest of the wait was quiet. No one talked about going anywhere else for the night. I’m sure at this point everyone wanted to go home and decompress from what had happened. Before long the Uber pulled up and I shuffled us around to open the door. With some adjustments I was able to sit her down and close the door before nodding to the guys and making my way around the car to climb in beside her. 

The driver took off immediately, glancing in the rear view mirror between the two of us. We didn’t make it far before i turned to her, 

“I’m André by the way” 

Her sad eyes met mine and for a moment I didn’t think she would say anything until I heard a whisper. 

“Y/N” 

Her voice sounded awful and the emotion behind her eyes told me how exhausted she really was. 

“I didn’t know where you would want to go so I figured you could come to my place and then decide what you want to do,” I told her. 

She looked at me again before croaking out a “thank you”. The rest of the ride was quiet. Once we arrived at my place I figured out why it was quite. At some point during the drive Y/N must had fallen asleep, her head was leaning against the window and her body was curled right around herself. 

I climbed out of the car and went to her side. Carefully I opened the door, catching her head when it went to fall. Surprisingly she didn’t wake so I slid my arms under her lifting her out of the car and pulling her against my chest. 

Unlocking the door and navigating through my apartment while carrying another person was harder than I would have imagined. I made it to my guest room and laid her on the bed. Not wanting her to wake up uncomfortable I took her shoes off before covering her with blankets and shutting the door on my way out. 

I settled on the couch with a beer from the fridge before releasing the breath that seemed stuck in my chest. The last thing I thought about before drifting off was the broken girl sleeping in the other room.

[jincherie]

4 o’clock | 03

✩ — pairing: taehyung x reader ✩ — genre: hybrid au, single dad au, light angst, fluff ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — words: 5.5k+ ✩ — warnings: slight angst ✩ — notes: another impulse update while the inspiration was ripe!! I hope u enjoy it :3 I’ll go over it and fix any mistakes with tense and grammar tomorrow either before or after work, so sorry for those in the meantime! i haven’t written in past tense in a while lol

— prompt: “Why are you crying, It’s only you and me here, Me and you, Oh you”

Even if it weren’t for the two twins that had endeared you so, you were sure you would have eventually been drawn to the beautiful soul of Kim Taehyung, like a planet to its star.

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 — posted; 14.03.2020

“Ah— no— Haru! Don’t touch that please!”

You sat back, content to watch the chaos as it unfolded; Seokjin had sent you some small reports to write and you were making the most of the moment and finishing them while Jungkook and Namjoon helped watch the twins. It was nearing eight o’clock and the cafe had long since closed, the lights dimmed but still on— Namjoon had been counting the tills in peace until the two hybrid twins had grown curious about what was happening on the other side of the counter and darted around to investigate. Jungkook snickered at the scene as he swept the floors, not being shy about his laughter since Namjoon was too caught up to reprimand him right now.

Ordinarily, you didn’t babysit the twins at the cafe— but you’d brought them to get a hot chocolate since the weather was getting cooler and they’d been behaving so well lately you wanted to give them a treat. You’d already texted Taehyung to ask if they were allowed it, and he’d told you yes. The twins had been ecstatic the second you told them where you were going and why. Apparently they were big fans of Uncle Joon and Uncle Koo, despite spending a majority of their time with you these days.

“But Uncle Joon!” Haru whined, big eyes pointed right at the poor male in question. You did feel a little bad for him; he was just trying to count the tills and finish closing after all. “Wanna help!”

“Yeah!” Hansol chorused, popping up from behind his sister. “Wanna help!”

Namjoon seemed like he was absolutely lost for how to handle the situation, standing crowded with the tills held to his chest, and when he finally caved and sent a pleading look your way you couldn’t help but chuckle. You supposed you could put him out of his misery.

“Hey, cutie cubs! I have something over here that I really, really need your help with! Could you come help me?”

Of course, the answer was yes. At the opportunity to help one of their favourite people ever, their eyes lit up and you stifled a laugh as their tails flicked and whipped excitedly. They were scrambling around the counter within seconds, big eyes directed at you now as they clung to the leg closest to them.

“Yeah, y/n?” Hansol inquired, patting your thigh excitedly. “Need help?”

“I absolutely do!” you confessed dramatically, leaning closer. “It’s something only you two can do.”

They almost vibrated in their excitement, making you think maybe there was a little too much sugar in those hot chocolates. They leaned in closer, Haru whispering with wide eyes, “What is it?”

“Well,” you started, pulling out two pieces of blank paper. “I have something important I’m writing for one of my jobs, and it needs some pictures… but I don’t have any! Do you think you could draw me some pictures to send with it? I don’t know anyone who can do it as well as you…”

The twins gasped, sold immediately on the idea. You’d learned very quickly that of all their hobbies and things they like to do, anything to do with painting, drawing, and colouring— they liked that the most. Eagerly, they climbed onto the free seats at the table where you were perched, looking at you obediently and patiently. Their ears betrayed their excitement though, flicking and twitching restlessly. You passed them a piece of paper each and let them choose one of the markers from your pencil case. Haru chose blue, while her brother went for a light green.

“What do we draw?” she asked after a moment, marker looking very oversized in her tiny hand. To her credit, she had it in an expert grip.

“Anything you want,” you answered immediately, unable to help but laugh at their excited gasps.

“Weally?!” In his glee Hansol’s ‘r’ glided into a ‘w’ sound even more than usual and you almost clutched your chest in fear that you had a literal heart attack. They’re so cute, they’re so cute it’s over for me!

“Yup!” you nodded, waving your hand for them to go ahead and do whatever they want. They didn’t need to be told twice; they launched into their efforts, markers meeting paper eagerly. You could have sat and watched them all night, so endeared by the way their tongues stuck out in concentration and their ears flicked every so often. Unfortunately, you still had a report to finish and so begrudgingly you returned to that as they scribbled artfully across the pages, having granted Namjoon time to escape to the staff room and for Jungkook to grab the mop and bucket and begin sanitising the floor.

Like that, the cafe settled into a nice ambiance— the radio still played soft tunes across the store and the only out of place noises came when one of the twins dropped a marker or Jungkook bumped into a table or chair due to his shapely rump.

It lasted a good five minutes, and you suspected it would have lasted longer if Namjoon’s phone didn’t start ringing on the counter. The twins barely spared it a glance before returning to their works— man, you chose the distraction well, huh. There was the slight sound of cluttering and something falling in the direction of the backroom before Namjoon emerged with tousled hair and wide eyes, a note sticking to his cheek as he looked around hurriedly for his phone.

“Who on earth…” he muttered to himself as he searched; you pointed to your cheek when he caught your eye and he reached up to remove the note, appearing sheepish. It didn’t take him long to find the phone after that, hurrying to pick it up before passing it over to you on the bench. “Y/n, can you answer that? I think I flicked a coin in the sink and I don’t know if it went down the drain or not— thanks!”

Bewildered, you hurriedly scrambled to the counter, grabbing his phone and seeing that he’d already answered the call and just left it running. You didn’t have time to see who was on the other end before you brought it to your ear, not wanting to leave them hanging any longer than they already had been.

“Hello?” you said, sounding somewhat hesitant. Any caution you might have had was quickly thrown to the wind when a familiar dulcet tone greeted you from the other end, though.

“Wh— y/n?” Taehyung sounded surprised to hear your voice, and you didn’t blame him considering he’d called Namjoon’s phone. “Uh, hello. But, um… why…”

“Hey, Mr. Kim!” The change in your attitude was instant, something fluttering in your abdomen at the knowledge of who you were talking to. “Sorry to surprise you, but Namjoon is counting the tills and kind of dumped his phone on me. Is everything okay? Did you want to talk to the twins?”

Taehyung made a sound of understanding before hurrying to reassure you, “Ah, no! No, that’s okay, I’ll see them soon anyway. Um, I was actually calling because…”

He faded off for a moment, an awkward tone slipping into his voice when he resumed. “Um, all the buses near my work were cancelled because of maintenance or something and, um… I don’t really have a way to get home… so I was just…”

It took barely a second for you to realise what he was getting at. “Ah, you need someone to pick you up? No problem! I’m with the twins at the cafe right now, so I can come pick you up while Joon and Jungkook watch them for a few minutes if you’d like!”

The hybrid on the other end seemed flustered at your easy agreement and instant offer.

“I, um… that’s fine, if that’s not too much trouble? I’m sorry to be bothering you— I’ll pay y—”

“Nope, it’s okay!” you were quick to reassure him, making sure he knew that you didn’t expect compensation just for being a decent person. “Don’t even think of paying me extra, I don’t mind at all! Just text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as possible!”

The line was silent for a few moments before Taehyung spoke once more, sounding slightly choked up. “Thank you, y/n.”

“No problem,” you assured, saying goodbye before hanging up and placing Namjoon’s phone down. A few moments later your own buzzed in your pocket, most likely with the address you’d requested.

Ducking into the backroom, you let Namjoon know what the call was about and he easily agreed to watch the kids while you went to pick up their dad. Once you secured his blessing, you returned to the main area to see Jungkook currently being subjected to the twins and their marker, scribbles and drawings beginning to make their ways up his forearms. Hansol had managed to land the arm that already had some tattoos on it and was having the time of his life colouring them in. As soon as he saw you, he pointed excitedly, “Look, y/n! Uncle Koo’s a colouring book!”

The male in question seemed absolutely endeared by the twins and of course easily agreed to continue watching them while you went to pick up Taehyung. The twins were excited to see their dad again soon and so let you go in peace when you told them what was happening.

Fifteen minutes later found you on the road and nearing the destination that Taehyung had texted you. Apparently it wasn’t at his actual workplace, since there weren’t any bus stops there and he usually had to walk twenty minutes to the nearest one, but it was still in the general area. You were thankful that you’d driven the twins to the cafe instead of walking earlier, since it meant your car was already outside and waiting. You were also thankful one of your friends had bullied you into cleaning it the other day because you knew you’d be embarrassed as hell if Taehyung climbed in and found all the bueno bar wrappers that had been on the floor of the passenger side. What could you say? You had an addiction.

As the GPS on your phone told you that you were growing closer, you began to scan the streets for the golden-haired male in question. It didn’t take you long to spot him, because even in the dark he stood out as a spot of beauty in his surroundings, hair gleaming flaxen in the streetlights. He was only in a white button-down and slacks, but still he looked incredibly good. Honestly, if you saw an image of him you would have sworn up and down that he was a model. The flick of his ears as you neared the curb where he stood told you that he’d heard you from afar, but he waited until you were alongside him to shoot you a sheepish smile.

He was somewhat shy as he climbed in, tentative in his movements as he placed his bag down by his feet and shut the door, resting his hands in his lap. “Thank you,” he murmured again, low tone making your heart skip a beat. What was it about him that seemed to make you so… giddy?

“It’s not a problem!” you assured him again, making sure he caught your smile before you set the destination in your phone and turned to the road; you knew vaguely where you were, but you didn’t travel often to this part of town so you’d need a little bit of guidance to get back to Namjoon’s cafe. It was too dark to tell for sure, but you could have sworn the hybrid’s cheeks flushed slightly.

You didn’t think that the silence would have been all that awkward, but you didn’t want to really risk it—there was still a bit of distance between the two of you, understandably. He was basically your employer right now. But you couldn’t deny the urge sparking to life deep inside you that pushed you to get a bit closer to him. Inexplicably, it was something you wanted.

“When I left, the twins were having the time of their lives,” you informed him, unable to keep the smile from your voice. Your eyes were on the road but you caught his head lifting in your peripheral. “Originally I had them drawing something on paper, but when I came back they’d turned Jungkook into a canvas and discovered his tattoos. I think they were overjoyed to have a living colouring book.”

At your words, Taehyung couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from his throat at his kids’ antics. “They love colouring,” he murmured in response, letting his head fall back against the headrest. Your brief glance over reveals his form, slumped slightly and wrought with exhaustion. A shard of concern wriggles its way into your chest, unsettling you slightly. Was he eating enough? Sleeping enough? You felt so bad for him that you wished you could lift every single worry from his shoulders and give the world to him on a silver platter. His twins deserved it, and so did he. You weren’t sure exactly when, in the past month or so of looking after his kids, that such feelings had had time to bloom, but they had. “I wish I could get them more things, since they go through materials so fast, but… paints are getting more and more expensive these days.”

You hummed, trying not to let the sadness currently permeating your chest to show on your face. “That’s true,” you responded softly. “I imagine they’d go through paints and markers faster than you can blink.”

Taehyung chuckled, the sound soft and low, eyes closed as he sank into the seat. “Yep. I have boxes full of drawings at home. They refuse to part with any of them.”

It was your turn to laugh now, able to imagine it all too easily. “I think they’d never talk to me again if I ever lost the ones they gave me.”

Soft melodies drifted through the car as you drove, your phone’s playlist still on the one you used to lull the twins to sleep. Endearingly enough, it seemed to be working wonders for their father, too. Every time you glimpsed over, it seemed like he was that bit closer to completely dozing off next to you. You were sure he’d be embarrassed about it later, but you honestly didn’t mind. It relieved you a bit to know he was getting at least a little bit of rest.

Well, he was until a low, rumbling sound echoed in the small space. You bit your lip to contain the laugh that attempted to bubble in your throat, but were unable to help the glance you gave to the side. Taehyung looked mortified, gaze averted out the window and cheeks red as his hand rested over his stomach, as though to muffle it should it make any further incriminating noises. His tail curled beside him in embarrassment.

“Well, I suppose that’s good timing,” you said, unable to keep the smile from your voice. “Are you in the mood for a noodle dish or something soupy? Or rice? I was gonna stop by somewhere and grab something for dinner anyway.”

Taehyung’s hands quickly rose, waving awkwardly. “Oh, no, it’s okay— we can just—”

You hummed, pinning him with a look as the car drew to a stop at a set of traffic lights. “Have you eaten today?”

He might have been embarrassed, but you could tell he wouldn’t be able to lie to you. You were proven right when he simply blushed, averting his gaze with his ears angling down.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching to pat his leg before you had to return your hand to the gearstick. “I haven’t had dinner yet either, and we can grab something to take back for the twins too! Is there anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

Perhaps it was the hunger, but he didn’t take long to give in and acquiesce to your gentle nudging. His voice was soft when it brushed your ears in response. “I don’t mind, anywhere is good.”

You pondered his words for a moment before speaking what came to mind, “I think I know a place that you’ll like.”

— x — x —

“Woah.”

You smiled at the wonderment in Taehyung’s voice, glancing over to see him looking around in awe. You’d decided to take him to your favourite fusion restaurant, since you remembered that they actually made that dish that he liked— japchae?— and it seemed you’d made the right choice. The restaurant was underground, and the ceiling sprinkled with woven trains of fairy lights. The walls of booths and along the tables were somewhat porus and absolutely covered in layers upon layers of scribbles and drawings from people who had visited over the years. A bowl of markers rested by the door and you were sure to grab one on the way past.

One of the table staff saw you and grinned, making her way over immediately. Her gaze didn’t even linger on Taehyung as it swept over him, something you appreciated.

“Y/n!” she burst, moving forward to bring you in for a quick hug. “It’s been a while! I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing slightly. “It’s only been like, a week, Jihyo. What, you weren’t there when I ordered last time?”

“I had placement,” she said, sighing dramatically. “We can’t all finish the semester on time, y/n.”

You laughed in response, and the brunette was quick to get back on track. “Table for two? In the usual spot?”

“Yes please!” you answered with a smile, feeling Taehyung shift in confusion behind you. You wonder if he thought that you were only coming for take away. Originally you were, but as you entered the restaurant you’d read a text from Jungkook saying that they’d taken to twins back to your house, so you felt less pressed to get there sooner.

The two of you follow Jihyo towards the back of the establishment, taking a seat when she gestures to do so in the booth furthest from the front and closer to the kitchens. She left you with menus and told you to press the button when you were ready to order.

“We’re eating here?”

You looked up to catch Taehyung’s gaze, and the expression you find there wasn’t upset or antsy, more confused. It occurred to you a moment later that maybe you should have asked for his opinion before deciding all on your own.

“Oh… Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Your cheeks heated in embarrassment at your own audacity. “I should have asked you— I just got a text from Jungkook saying they took the twins to my place so I figured we didn’t have to rush and could relax a bit. Would you like to get takeaway instead…?”

At your explanation, the male relaxed in his seat, shoulders releasing the small amount of tension they’d held. “No, it’s okay. And you can call me Taehyung, you know. I don’t think you’re that much younger than me, actually.”

Your head tilted in surprise as your hands opened the menu automatically. “Wait, how old are you?”

Taehyung hummed, opening his own menu and looking down, visibly growing happier at the sight of some of the dishes. “Twenty-four,” he answered distractedly, finger trailing over number 37 on the menu. “Are the pancakes good? I wonder if the twins would like them…”

It took all your willpower to snap your mouth closed and swallow your shock— twenty-four?! That’s so young! It wasn’t like he looked old, but to have kids… you thought that he was late-twenties or early-thirties and had just aged really well. You were left reeling at the fact he really wasn’t all that much older than you at all.

It made you even sadder, actually, as you realised that he must have been only twenty-one or so when the twins had first come into his life. It can’t have been easy, especially if the situation was as you suspected with the twins’ mother.

“Wow, you’re young,” you couldn’t stop it from rolling off your tongue, and coughed before continuing, ignoring his amused look. “And they are! I like both the spring onion and the kimchi one. For the twins though, they might like the spring onion one better. I’ll get some to take back to them so they can try it, actually. Maybe some of the chicken too… I’m craving chicken.”

You’d started off talking directly to him, but as you went on you had ended up talking more to yourself. You missed the soft smile that Taehyung sent your way. It was silent as the two of you ruminated over what to order, and neither of you spoke until it was time to order and the waitress (not Jihyo this time, unfortunately) was walking away with your meal ticket and the menus.

“Thank you.”

It caught you by surprise, his sudden words. You looked to him with wide eyes, mid-sip of your water, and blinked in confusion. He chuckled at the sight you presented before leaning back in the booth, taking the permanent marker into his grasp and fiddling with it between his fingers. You continued your sip, waiting for him to continue in his own time. You didn’t have to wait too long.

“For caring so much about Hansol and Haru,” he explained, eyes flicking to the side before rising to meet yours. His ears were lowered slightly, bashful, as he continued. “It means a lot to me, and I know that it means a lot to them. They…”

He cleared his throat, reaching for his own cup of water. He still looked exhausted, but the smell of food in the air had livened him considerably since you entered. “They’ve never really said anything, or asked about their mother, and I don’t know for sure whether they have put you in that role… but I’m glad they have someone else that they can trust and feel safe with. I know whenever I leave them with you that they’ll be okay, and I don’t have to worry, because you always spoil them and they’re always happy. So thank you, for that.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden sting to your eyes. Flustered, you waved your hand at him, blinking rapidly to ward away the tears. “You should warn a girl before you spring something heartfelt like that on her, Mr. K— Taehyung. I might cry and then our food will be ruined.”

He was still for a second before your words sank in and he laughed, tipping his head back from the body of it. It was a joyous sound, and it made your heart sing to hear it— after the mushy way his earlier words had made you feel, you didn’t know if you were in a good place to handle it. You waited until he calmed to continue, wanting to respond properly now your thoughts were in order.

“But you’re more than welcome, you know.” His eyes met yours as you spoke, fingers fiddling with the marker. “Those two are so beautiful, Taehyung. I can see you give them everything and they really deserve it. I’ll have you know that if I could and they asked for it, I’d climb up and pluck every star out of the sky just for them. Everything I do for them is really the least I can do. I’ll always care for those two, even if you were to move away and forget all about me.”

He snorted at that last part, but you could tell he was touched from the tender look in his eyes. “Don’t worry, that’s not happening any time soon.“

A few moments of silence followed his words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was soon broken by the arrival of some of your meal. Your mouth started salivating the second your plate touched the table, but you held off until you asked the waitress for some plastic containers and she brought them back for you. Once you’d put some of the food aside for the twins, you happily dug in to the meat dish you’d ordered.

You didn’t catch Taehyung’s fond look as you put some food aside, but you did hear it when, moments later, he let out a soft sound that echoed surprisingly like a moan. Your head shot up and he blushed bright red, cheeks so full of food he looked more like a chipmunk than a lion. He chewed and swallowed the majority of it down before offering a sheepish explanation, “Sorry, it just tastes so good… it’s been so long since I had bulgogi.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, almost choking on your own mouthful. You didn’t say anything though, mind wandering to other things— namely, the mention of the twins mother. You wanted to know so badly what the situation was, but you were also painfully aware it was absolutely not your place to ask. But at the same time, the twins were young, and what were you meant to do if they ask difficult questions about their mother as children tend to do? You were torn, but you didn’t realise the extent to which your thoughts were playing across your face.

“You want to know about their mother.”

Freezing, you shot him a guilty look, mouth full of spring onion pancake. You feared that you’d look over and see an upset expression on his handsome face, but it was surprisingly neutral— if anything, he seemed amused at the mess you were making as you struggled to keep the food in your mouth.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, taking a bite of his meal and humming at the flavour. “It’s only natural to wonder since you haven’t seen her. It’s not hard to tell that she’s not around.”

You finally managed to swallow the entire contents in your mouth, shooting him a look of apology. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything if it’s painful…”

The hybrid shrugged, pushing the food in his bowl around with his chopsticks. “It’s okay. It’s been three years, the wound is old…” He picked out a piece of beef, munching it before continuing. “Their mother was another lion hybrid— I met her in an adoption shelter we’d both ended up in until we were of the legal age that we could leave. She was my first love. I thought the world of her. It wasn’t planned, when she got pregnant. She didn’t really want the a baby but, well… you know how it is.”

Something sharp stabbed in your chest at his words, your expression softening. Hybrids still faced a lot of discrimination in more ways than one, and they didn’t have access to all the same types of resources that humans often took for granted. So if she’d wanted to abort the pregnancy, you doubt she would have been able to…Taehyung cleared his throat, continuing.

“When she became pregnant, and after she had the twins, it became clear that she wasn’t really the woman I fell in love with… When I saw those two, my beautiful little cubs, and held them in my arms— I knew I would love them for the rest of my life. But she… it wasn’t a sentiment we shared. She grew cold and fought with me, saying I’d ruined her life. And then one day she left, before they’d even been weened. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”

“I’m so sorry…” it was all you could think to say, your heart aching for him. You couldn’t imagine the amount of betrayal that must have felt like, the hurt that would have resulted. And on top of it, how difficult it must have been to be on his own from the very beginning.

He wrinkled his nose, sniffling slightly before shooting you a reassuring look. He waved his hand through the air, returning to the meal more heartily. “Don’t be— like I said, the wound is old. Besides, I thought you should know since you spend so much time with the twins. They’re curious, and they’re kids… I wouldn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation if they asked something difficult.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, sectioning off another piece of pancake to put in your mouth. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute at the information he’d given you, but you did your best to push them to the backburner for now— you didn’t take him out and force food down his throat for the sake of hearing about his partner. “I am still sorry, though… It seems like a lot of things have happened to you that you don’t deserve.”

“That’s how it always is,” Taehyung shrugged, nonchalant. Something about how accepting he was of his own misfortune bothered you— he shouldn’t have had to be accepting of the way the world has treated him like dirt. You allowed your eyes to wash over him, taking in the slight bags under his eyes and the somewhat pallid quality to his skin. In that moment, you decided to do whatever you could to help him— both for him, and the twins. If it meant you continued sending home little care packages with the twins, then so be it.

Despite the somewhat depressing start the conversation had, it soon melded into more comfortable, relaxed topics. Taehyung seemed interested to know a bit more about you, apparently wanting to corroborate the many things his twins reported back to him with facts straight from the source itself— you. He asked about your schooling, what you wanted to do— eventually he allowed himself to verify some of the things the twins apparently told him, like if you really had a giant gudetama plushie in the corner of your bedroom. You’d blushed at that one, especially considering that it was true. In turn, you’d gone ahead and asked him about some of the things the twins had told you— like if he really didn’t like mint chocolate chip icecream, and if all the older ladies in the building really pinched his cheek and called him handsome every time they saw him.

At that he had cleared his throat and blushed too, before quietly admitting it was true. It seemed the twins were very good at digging up dirt on the both of you.

You didn’t linger in the restaurant all that long, making your way up to the counter after you’d eaten your fill. The conversation continued right up until you reached the register, at which point Taehyung promptly froze. You turned, in the middle of pulling your card out, and caught him looking with white eyes at the total, like he’d completely forgotten that he’d have to pay at the end of it. It wasn’t hard to guess the direction that his thoughts had gone, and when Jihyo read out your total for the table you left it barely a second before moving.

“Boop!” you said, smacking your card on the reader and relishing in the confirmation beep that sounded a second later. “Paid!”

Taehyung looked at you with wide eyes, hand coming to grip your sleeve. “Y/n, that was so much! You didn’t have to—”

“It’s okay, I got paid today,” you smiled at him, holding up the bag of takeaway containers before passing them to him. “Plus, it wasn’t just our meals— now we have some food to take back for the others, too!”

You were oblivious to the fond, amused smile Jihyo was sending your way, especially since she slapped a brighter one on when you faced her. “I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves! I’ll see you next time y/n, make sure you bring him too! The chefs apparently liked watching his expressions as he enjoyed the food.”

You laughed, bringing your arm up in a mock salute as Taehyung blushed red beside you, risking a sheepish look back at the kitchen. Two chefs were peeking out the doorway, and waved when they saw him looking. Embarrassed, he tugged your sleeve and began moving towards the door, urging you to leave. You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you on the way out, waving to Jihyo as you went and promising you’d be back soon.

— x —

Later, when Taehyung was laying in his own bed after Namjoon had dropped him home, the twins cuddled next to him — they’d been so ecstatic at the special food they’d gotten that they hadn’t left his side all night, clinging to him like never before— he couldn’t help but reflect once more on the changes in his life, however big or subtle. The most noticeable was you, and oddly enough, when he thought of you now, gratitude wasn’t the only feeling swirling in his chest like it had been before. There was something else there, something new and warm and even though he didn’t look any closer at it, scared to see its name, it comforted him all the way to sleep, sending him off to cozy dreams of the sun, the twins, and you.

a/n: pls let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed it by liking and rbing!!! it helps me know i’m doing somthing right!!! also feel free to support me on my kofi and send me an ask or too with what u think !!!1 thank u for reading and i love you!!! <3 <3

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter One

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :3 anywho i hope you enjoy :)) The main love interest will be reader and bakugo i think edit: it is not going to be just bakugo it will be a love triangle k byebye for the second time oh also this is fem reader k bye lol

-> Word Count: 1.9k (I lowkey popped off)

-> Warnings: None rly just mentions of guns and blood

-> Tag list: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat

Chapter One

People would tell you that the world was made for two, but as Y/n sat in the silence of the old cellar two felt like a long lost dream. It was like wind rolling around you gently, trying to persuade you to move in all directions. It’s an ice cream cone on a boardwalk with the sun above and the salty ocean below. It’s a perfect place no one tries to remember.

Any mind left functioning in the world has evolved to be built for pain. Maybe once upon a time there had been a time and place where love and compassion was something for people to look forward to in life.

This wasn't that world anymore.

To Y/n, that type of world never existed anyways. The world had always been a selfish dark place where love is fleeting and the people are brutal. Once upon a time, true love accidentally affected those who were fortunate. But like every other beautiful thing, they polluted and corrupted it, and like everything else, it got sick.

Y/n’s seen it all. And in the end when it’s taken away the people who protested or cried the loudest, were the one who had taken it for granted the most.

Y/n looked around the cellar, in three days she barely moved. It’s her rule and because of it she can leave easier with the feeling of safety. She always ended a shopping trip with a quiet few nights in a cellar or basement.

Y/n wasn’t born to do this, she had to learn to move around quietly, how to sit still. She knew what she had to do to survive. She had lain amongst the dead, she had run through the dark woods, having to feel her eyesite clear like a wild animal and embrace the darkness.

She crept out into the beam of dust lingering in the stale air, sparkling from the sunlight that found its way down two stories into a dark cellar. The beam of light almost made her smile as she admired the light's determination. Y/n shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the harsh reality as she took her first step towards the stairs.

The explosions never seemed to destroy this home in any way. The stairs were in one piece, which had become a bit of a novelty to her. The old farmhouse was too far from any major centers or roads to have even known of the problems, at least in the beginning. The blood stain smears on the white siding outside proved that sickness has touched every single inch of this world.

The hard wood creaked under the weight of her first step. She held her breath and hoped that the creak went unheard. She slowly took another step up as she let out a shaky breath. On the third step she hesitated, listening for any sort of alarming sounds. Her heart was beating like it was trying to free itself from her constricted chest. She waited a second longer, it was another rule of hers. Never leave when you feel safe, always wait three more seconds.

She put her feet on the far sides of the stairs, where the rusty nails attached the boards to the frame. Shallow breaths make sounds in this new world, in the borderlands anyway. There was no electricity, no cars, no phones, no buzz. The world now sits quiet, as if it was sighing and taking a long inhale after what seemed like forever with mankind and the noise pollution. Y/n was at peace when she was at home, but here in the open world she was one of them. One of what was left of humanity. What scrambles to survive, most of the time seperate from everyone else.

Y/n looked through the cellar door and tried to keep her anxious heartbeat low and her breath quiet. She knew that her body needed to make some noises, but others she could control.

The house was simple. Farmhouses were always the best houses according to Y/n. They always sat a long way off the road, not that roads mattered anymore. They always have canning and pickling that would outlast any human. They always have safety supplies and extras of everything. Farmers lived the longest, just as Y/n’s father said they would.

Two trips a year was rarely enough, but Y/n knew that if she traveled any more than that she would be caught.

She walked through the small kitchen and was amazed at how pristine it still was. Everything was still in its place, just as it was the first time she came to the farmhouse, although now layers of dust had found their way into the home, along with the bits of weeds that grew in through the cracks. With no busy grandmother to buzz around cleaning and dusting the mess, everything shows the house’s years of abandonment. Vines grew up the sides of the house, like all houses. As always, she stood against the doorframe and put her hand at the top of her head as her measurement. She turned and looked at how much higher it is than the mark she foolishly put there last time she came.

She looked away from the mark and pushed away the memories of the happy little girl she used to be. She walked low to the ground toward the backdoor. She couldn’t help but laugh inside at how ridiculous it was that she still felt safer going through the backdoor, even though there was no front or back. There were only doors. They didn’t go anywhere anymore. There was no direction.

Nothing goes anywhere.

Y/n positioned the heavy pack on her back carefully. It contained jars full of heart and soul and survival. To Y/n each jar was like a gentle kiss from the old lady who canned and pickled from her own farm of fresh vegetables. She assumed there are no preservatives, no added colorings, no added salt. There weren’t any labels to contradict anything. For all she knew there was MSG in everything. Y/n found herself smiling at the letters MSG, they meant something to humanity once. That was before.

She fought back memories of nice old ladies and the world before. She had been to many worlds in her life, and being nineteen felt more life sixty most days. She took a deep breath and creaked the door open, as if the wind had opened it. She closed it and opened it again. It felt like the wind coming off the brown dirt field was playing with the door.

Her sharp eyes focused on the dirt yard. Nothing moved, everything was standing still. She knew that she should’ve been waiting for the night to travel, but she had stayed too long this time. She needed to get back. Things only lived so long alone, she knew this well. Her garden had died many times before.

The old barn door swung in the soft breeze, making it creak slightly as the long tan grass swayed and small pebbles scuttled along. Everything moved in sync with the wind. Y/n learned how to spot that.

Y/n pulled the door and cringed, she knew this was always the worst part of the walk home. She hated leaving this house.

She felt her eyes squint shot, as the intense light of the sun nearly blinded her. Her pack felt like tons of bricks on her back, but she took her first steps, desperate for the walk to be over with already. She tried not to jostle her bag too much because she didn’t want to break any jars. She learned the hard way that pickle juice is hard to get out and that backpacks were even harder to find.

Walking across the dirt and gravel driveway to the field was the worst. Y/n looked around, walking with her shotgun in her hand. She usually practiced often with her rifle and silencer at home. But on the road she always brought her shotgun. She saw it as her lucky gun. The thick cold metal made her feel strong, even though she knew what strength was.

To her, strength was not pulling the trigger. At this point in life she has yet to prove her strength to her own self. She always took the cowards path. Just like her dad told her to.

Her boots crunched along the path. She walked softly but some noises were unavoidable. She knew the noise would last until she reached the huge wheat field. Then she would be a whisper in the wind. She entered the field without looking back, when she reached the field she knew the rule.

Her legs groaned under the first steps, but after the first quarter mile she started to warm up and she enjoyed running. Her back was the issue, what with the pack being so much heavier than she had ever trained with. She gripped the shoulder straps tight until her arms couldn’t stand it for another second. Even then, she kept pushing until she reached the forest.

She ran deep intothe woods, always on the same side. Never the same path but always the same destination. The branches whipped past her. The edge of the forest was always the thickest. As the forest clears I see him. He’s smiling like always. He’s calm. He doesn’t run and jump. He waits to confirm that she hadn’t brought anything with her. He’s seen them before. He knew how bad it could be. Together both of them had seen the people get swarmed and taken, usually women.

“Hades.” Y/n whispered out of breath.

Instead of the warm greeting they both want, she quickly turned around and held her shotgun up. She walked backwards as Hades sauntered over to watch the forest. They sat behind a tree and waited and after a few minutes she put the pack down gently and climbed one of the huge trees. The thick branches were very rough against her hands. She sat on a branch and looked through her binoculars from the high viewpoint.

She could see the entire field of brown hay from where she was sitting. Y/n let herself have a weak moment and let herself imagine living in the farmhouse one day and harvesting hay. She felt her eyes strain as she tried to find even a single strand of grass moving in a way that would mean she was followed. She looked at the farmhouse sitting still and alone and hoped it would stay that way until her next trip.

She looked past the farmhouse and watched everything move just as it should. After coming to the conclusion that no one had followed her, she climbed down the tree, eager to lay in her own bed.

When her feet touched the dry ground, she looked at Hades, whose yellow eyes confirmed her thoughts. They were alone. She dropped to her knees and greetedhim as he bounded towards her. The large tundra wolf licked her face and raised his massive paws up to hug her. She would hug him so often when he was baby and one day he hugged back.

He nuzzled at her softly and nipped at her arms. She rubbed his huge soft ears and stood up. She patted him gently on his head.

“Ready?” She asked.

She picked up the heavy pack and adjusted to having it on her back again. The walk home would take an entire day if she could manage to keep a solid pace. Hades started the walk home by heading past the old broken oak tree. Their meeting place.

--

I worked really hard on this and so i hope people enjoy this although ik this chapter is a lil boring but i promise next chapter will be better k goodbye have a good day love u

[mieohmy]

𝖨𝗇 𝖺 𝖥𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁 | 𝖢𝗁𝗐𝖾 𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇

PAIRING: the Flash! chwe vernon x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst, friends-to-lovers, superhero! au

WC: 4.4k

NOTES: mentions of violence, trauma, FIRE, injury, nothing major (when Vernon is acting as the Flash, his voice is altered to protect his identity (duh) so that’s why y/n is obviously not able to tell who he is ^^ )

SUMMARY: it started with cookies. that’s all you wanted, really. but you got a bonus with it, except you wouldn’t really call it a bonus- just a... lovely addition that happened to steal your heart in a flash, whether you knew it or not.

  ❧

“Don’t touch that!” you whisper exasperatedly to your little cousin. You were exhausted. How did parents do it? You planned on going to the mall to get some cookies from the best bakery you’ve ever gone to, and your aunt conveniently wanted her kids to see Santa at the mall. So you offered to take them there with you, to give her a break because you knew a four-year-old and a six-year-old were a l o t of work. 

You were waiting in the line for Santa, your little cousins bouncing and messing with the decorations. You stared ahead, counting the number of people in front of you. You sighed. One more kid until I can get my cookies. 

You loved your cousins, really, little Camden and Hana. But the E N E R G Y. You frowned, were you like that when you were young? As soon as you finish that thought, the line moves up, and you’re at the front! Camden looks up at you. “How much longer?” he whines. You smile. “We’re almost there. Just wait a little more, alright?” Hana pouts, and you grab her tiny baby hands and swing them, hoping to cheer her up.

As she giggles, one of the worker elves calls out, “Next!” You look at them with a bright expression, gesturing them forward before being interrupted by a loud CRASH and BOOM. 

You immediately look around, hearing screams and chaos. You’re frozen, until a strange whiz! passes by you, hair blowing back from the speed. You recoil before remembering the kids(!!) and look down. Camden’s near you, ears plugged, and you sigh in relief. Then suddenly, the image of Hana pops into your mind, and you inhale. 

Head whirling, you search the place. You hear more screams, and is that the smell of burning? Where is she???? She wasn’t standing next to you, and you have absolutely no idea where she went. You feel a wave of fear course through you. You bend down to Camden, grabbing his shoulders. You don’t notice your hands shaking. “Listen, Camden. Wait here and do not move. I promise I’ll be back soon ok?” He nods, hands plugging his ears as you leave. You run around the central plaza where Santa was sitting.  

You see flames, hearing the roar and shiver, still frantically scanning the area. People are disappearing, probably escaping as they should be, but you can’t leave Hana. You run around the circle until you hear a familiar whimper. Your eyes zero in on a miniature house that was a part of the Christmas decorations. You squint, and you think you see a little girl’s body huddled inside the house. You hear the roars and crackling growing louder, but you ignore it. 

Running to the house, you crouch and look it through the window holes. Hana’s inside, huddled and whimpering. You’ve never felt such relief run through you before. “Oh god. Hana...” you murmur. She looks up at you, tears at the corners of her eyes. It almost causes you to tear up as well. Voice shaky, you call her name. You feel waves of heat from behind you, but you focus your attention on her. “Hana, please come out. We need to get out of here.” She shakes her head. “I’m scared... it’s really hot in here..” “I know,” you look back, seeing flames surrounding the area, causing your heart to clench. “But you need to get out. Then we’ll be safe, alright?” You slowly open the door to the house and hold out your arms. Hana slowly creeps forward, and you immediately take her into your embrace. 

Turning around, you see the fire encasing you two. Letting out a shaky breath, you just hold Hana tighter, squeezing your eyes shut and thinking, “Is this it? Oh no.. I left Camden alone. What kind of person am I? How-“ You don’t get to finish as you feel a gust of wind and maybe a hand around your waist. 

You open your eyes and suddenly, it’s like you’ve been teleported outside. Glancing down, Hana’s still in your arms, staring at you. Sighing in relief, you bury your face in her hair, letting out muffled thank god’s and we’re safe. 

You hear a noise and look up, mouth opening in surprise. The Flash?! He looks down at you two, eyes widening in shock. He coughs before asking, “Are you two alright?” You can only slowly nod, processing everything. He’s about to leave when you grab his hand. Sucking in a breath, you look him in the eyes. A familiar warmness to them. “I- just, thank you. You have no idea how indebted I am to you.” The Flash nods. “It’s no problem. It’s my duty.” He looks around before mentioning, “Didn’t you have uh- a little boy with you two?” It didn’t dawn on you how he knew, but you were distracted with what he said. 

Shooting up, you immediately think of Camden. Shoot. You spot him with his parents, crying as they comfort him. Once he sees you and Hana coming over, he runs into your embrace. You tightly hug him and Hana, looking back at the Flash with a small smile on your face. He returns the smile before disappearing in a second. 

❧

Your friends rush to hug you, all talking about the “Unexpected explosion at the Westpointe Mall.” You laugh, “I’m fine. It was honestly scary, and I’m a little traumatized, but everyone’s okay.” “Thanks to the Flash,” your friend adds. “I owe my life to him,” you say, eyes sparkling as you imagine him saving you. Your friends let out an ooooh, and you groan before denying anything. You chat with them for a little before receiving a text. 

It’s from Vernon. You quickly tell your friends you have to go, them all teasing you about your ‘date’ (that you dismiss with an eye roll). 

Walking out, you spot him, and he quickly brings you into his arms. You didn’t exactly know what your relationship with him was.  You always denied it, saying the classic, we’re just friends, but anyone could tell you two definitely had something more. 

You inhale, smelling his comforting scent. “I heard about what happened,” he mumbles into your hair. You just nod, enjoying his comforting embrace.

You pull back, and he leads you to his car. Settling inside, Vernon plays some cringy old love songs, and you giggle, the both of you singing along. When you arrive at the cafe, you both order before finding a seat. “So,” Vernon starts. “What, uh, is the whole story?” You swallow before recounting the whole incident. 

“And then the Flash suddenly comes in! I owe everything to him, he saved Hana and me. He was so cool and brave..” You realize you’re rambling before looking back at him. His ears are red, and he’s smiling slightly, you note. “Wow. Well, uh-I guess he seems like a nice guy ?” Vernon replies awkwardly. You raise an eyebrow. “Why are you acting so weird all of a sudden?” He chokes on his drink. “What? ha, whaddya mean?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Then it hits you. Your eyes widen, and you snap your fingers. “I know what it is. You’re-“ Vernon suddenly reaches up and covers your mouth with his hand, you’ve never seen him so panicked before. In the process of doing so, he accidentally knocks your fork, but quickly catches it with his other hand. Your eyebrows raise in shock at his incredibly fast reflexes, then you remove his hand from your mouth. Leaning in, you speak in a hushed voice, “Vernon... it’s okay to be jealous. It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’ve known you for years and only met the Flash once. Of course, I would choose you over him, dummy.” 

Vernon dramatically sinks back into the seat in relief, placing his hand over his face before sitting up and returning to you. “Yeah sure, you’re right. I shouldn’t be jealous..” You laugh and place your hand over his comfortingly, not removing it until you two leave the cafe.

❧

“-crime rates are rising. Be careful when you go out, people! Especially in places with large gatherings! Well, that was your-“ you shut off the TV. It's been getting more dangerous recently, you think. There have been more and more bombing attacks going off, and the Flash has been rescuing the people from all of them. You shiver, remembering the heat. Flames flickering over you. Hana’s cries. Your respect for the superhero grows. You shake your head, getting into bed. 

You didn’t tell anyone so they didn’t worry, but you had been having recurring nightmares after the event at the mall. Sometimes it was just flames burning you or you not being able to save Hana and Camden. But whenever you woke up, there was always a bitter, smoky aftertaste in your mouth. It got really bad sometimes, so you would either watch social media and eventually pass out or stay up the night, unable to fall back asleep. 

Today was unfortunately one of the latter nights. You throw off all the blankets, it was wintertime, but you could only feel the heat. The images flash in your head again. Bright. Loud. Pain. You exhale shakily. Your first instinct is to reach for your phone and call Vernon. 

“y/n??” you hear his raspy voice. Your whole body sweating, you reply in a small voice, “Can you please come over, now?” There’s a pause before he responds, “On my way.”

All you say to him when he arrives is, “I can’t sleep..” and he guides you to your bed, going in after you. He wraps his arms around you, probably already drifting off. It was really hot before, but Vernon’s heat was comforting and tranquil. You slip off before you know it. 

❧

You’re walking to the grocery store when you’re stopped by the sound of police sirens and disorder. Another bombing, you overhear. “There are so many bombings. What’s really going on?” you wonder. Your curiosity gets to the best of you, and you walk over to the commotion. There are police talking to huddled people, obviously traumatized. 

And then you see him. The Flash. He was talking to a policewoman, and you continue to stare at him. He seems so familiar to you, but you can’t place where and when you might've seen him before, excluding the one time he saved you. He must’ve noticed because he says goodbye to the police and walks over to you. 

You’re surprised. You didn’t think a superhero had time to talk to a normal person like you. He stops in front of you. You look up at him curiously, admiring his suit. “So how’re the kids?” You’re confused for a moment, but then you laugh. “They’re fine, I think. Luckily you saved them so hopefully, there are no scars,” unlike me. He smiles. “Where are you going? Uh, just to be safe. Don’t want someone walking at night by themselves.” You allow a small smile to form. “I can take care of myself, but thanks anyway. I’m just going to the mart. Don’t you have other things to do?” He shrugs as you two continue walking down the street. “Not unless there’s another bombing.” 

When you arrive at the front of the mart, the Flash awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. You glance at him, confused. “I, um, shouldn’t go inside there, you know. My suit and all.” You laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? The suit? I would expect the fan girls rushing to take a picture with you, but don’t worry, I won't ask, mr. superhero.” He grins. “I’ll wait for you here then.” 

You don’t actually expect the Flash to be there when you exit the store, things in hand, but he’s there. He spots you. “Finally, it was getting weird standing here alone. Luckily no one asked for a picture.” You smile, before shuffling through your bags, “I bought some snacks as thanks for you, but the only place I think is open at this time is my place. We could go there to eat if you have time, that is..” You don’t know why your cheeks feel hot. He pauses for a minute, before shrugging. “Sure.”

You open the door, saying, “Please excuse the mess,” as you let the Flash into your apartment. You might be internally freaking out. He walks in as if he’s been here a thousand times before. “Oh, nice place?” You smile. “Thanks. We can go to my balcony and eat. It’s pretty tonight.” 

Leading him out, you show the snacks you bought. It was mostly snacks that Vernon forced you to try and were now your favorites. You look at him nervously. “I hope these are okay?” He seems pleasantly surprised. “Yeah, these are fine.” 

You two chat about your life, his superhero stuff. It was surprisingly refreshing as you gaze at the night, clear and stars shining bright. You turn to look at him and find him already looking at you. Your breath hitches. It suddenly feels a lot warmer. You think he’s leaning in, maybe you’re leaning in until a sudden breeze blows past and you shiver. The Flash inhales. “You should uh, get inside. It’s cold and getting late..” “Right,” you said, breaking out of your trance. 

But before you go in, you look back. “Will I see you again?” He only smiles. “Take care.” And then he’s gone in an instant. You fall asleep that night, no nightmares. 

❧

You do see the Flash again. Around two weeks later, he comes crashing into your apartment.  “Oh my god, you-“ He groans, collapsing on your couch. “What happened??” He coughs. “Another bombing. Got everyone out in time but barely.” His suit is all scorched and red. You wince at the burns. 

Hesitantly, you ask, “Can you remove your suit? T-to treat the burns?” He can only nod. Grabbing your med-kit, you sit on the ground next to him. “I won’t mess with your mask..” you softly murmur, “but if it’s bad, I’ll promise not to look, cause you’re in no shape to do it yourself.” 

You assist him in taking off the top part of his suit. You remind yourself to focus and not get distracted. The burns are red and harsh, and you shudder at the thought that you could’ve been through that if it wasn’t for the Flash. Taking the burn ointment, you warn him before softly rubbing it on top. He groans in pain, and you try your best to soothe him, gripping his hand tightly with your free one. 

It goes on for the rest of the night, and he passes out on your couch. The next morning, he’s gone with a simple scrawly thank you written on a notepad. You wonder how he found it because it was in a drawer that he did not know about, or at least you thought. Your thought is momentarily forgotten as you remember to text Vernon. 

Recently, Vernon had been busy and wasn’t texting you often, which you understood. But today, you were supposed to meet up later with him, just to hang out because you felt like you haven’t seen him in so long. 

Once you get there, he’s sitting down, anxiously bouncing his knee. You immediately brighten. “Vernon! I missed you.. What’ve you been up to that’s been taking you from me?” you pout. He nervously smiles. “Just school and work ya know??” You frown, but mumble “Alright..” You two catch up, and you tell him about the Flash, recounting that one night under the stars. You leave out the ending, though. Vernon’s eyebrows raise comically. “Geez, that’s cool. A superhero hung out with you? I’m jealous..” You nod excitedly. You decide not to tell him about the one night with the Flash’s unexpected visit. It didn’t seem right. 

As you two get up to leave, you notice Vernon limping. “Vernon?” you ask. He looks back at you. “What’s up?” You examine his body. He’s slightly hunched over like he’s injured. “Why are you limping??” He freezes. “I-well- I didn’t want to tell you.., but someone spilled their hot water over my legs... and yeah.” You open your mouth, but Vernon stops you. “It was an accident, alright? No need to get angry.” “I just care about you a lot,” you huff. He assures you by enlacing your hands together. You sigh but decide to let it go. 

❧

The Flash shows up at your place several times. By that, you mean at least once a week. The bombings are getting more and more frequent, and you’re not sure why. All the attacks are random, and the CIA still haven’t found any information on the bombers yet, so it’s up to the Flash to save them. Each time, he comes back with more and more injuries. 

Around the ninth(?) time he shows up, you frown in disapproval. “Listen, this is too much. There are so many bombings going on, and everyone expects you to save them all. You can’t keep doing this by yourself. Where are the police and security?” He just shrugs in defeat. “It’s my duty to help the city. This is my job, and if I have to save people from bombs daily, then I will.” You pout. “It’s not fair. Why can’t I be a superhero too so I can help you?” He laughs before wincing in pain. 

You tend to his injuries once more. Yes, he had accelerated healing, but constantly getting burned and hurt was taking a toll on him. Plus, you could tell he was just physically and mentally exhausted. Once you were done, you stare at him. His eyes were closed, so you assumed he had fallen asleep, but suddenly they flicker open. That’s when you notice the dark eye circles underneath them, even with the mask on. 

He just stares back at you, before softly muttering, “I’m so tired..” You’re about to respond, but he grabs your arm and pulls you forth, so your face is a lot closer to his than before. Frozen, you open your mouth to say something, but he leans up and places his lips on yours. Your eyes instinctively close. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but you’re finally able to pull back. He’s already half-asleep, exhausted. You quietly turn off the lights and leave him to rest. 

❧

Vernon was drained. Balancing his superhero life and normal life was getting difficult recently. With all the attacks, he was constantly stopping by your place as the Flash, then zooming back to his place to be Vernon again. His life was getting extremely hectic and busy, but he knew it came with being the city’s hero.

 He doesn’t know why he started stopping by your place, especially risking his identity being exposed. Maybe it was just the exhaustion or wanting to see you. It was really difficult to hide his identity from his friends, especially you. He was so busy and had no time to hang out with anyone, constantly saving lives and then going to classes and work immediately after. 

Finally having some free time to do his schoolwork, Vernon types away on his computer. He needed to take full advantage and catch up, because well, his grades weren’t doing too well. A notification catches his attention. It’s an email from... the CIA? 

The CIA contacted him? They’re the only ones who knew Vernon’s identity and promised to keep it a secret in return for working alongside them.  He’s shocked when he reads the email. It’s simple. Meet up at a restaurant today. 3 pm sharp. 

Once he gets there, he sees an officer waiting for him, beckoning. After he sits, the officer leans in. “We were able to track the bombers down and find the whereabouts of their next attack.” His eyes widen. They tracked the attackers down? The officer continues, “The next bombing is tomorrow, 7 PM at the Art Galleria. Get the bomb before they can set it off. We’re gonna be closing it but get all surrounding people out if necessary, and we’ll take care of the rest.” Vernon nods, processing the information. The officer gives him a last, don’t be late, and sets off, leaving Vernon to sit alone. 

❧

The next morning, you’re texting Vernon, telling him about your exams in the afternoon and asking if he wanted to go see ‘Picasso’s art’ with you around dinner time after you finish. He texts back a small, “No sorry I’m busy later :/“ thinking about his “plans” for that evening. You respond with “awww, it’s ok. I’ll go by myself and I’ll be safe! Promise! Also- don’t text me during my exams, my phone will be off!” Vernon smiles, putting his phone away in his pocket. 

He carries on with his day until around six-thirty. He’s visualizing the plans that’ll happen in about thirty minutes while also thinking about how he can make it up to you for not being able to go. 

Then it hits him. Picasso’s art? That’s at the art galleria. Which meant you were going to the art galleria later today. Around dinner time. The next bombing was in thirty minutes. Shit, he thinks, hand reaching for his phone before remembering your text. 

Your phone is off. You’re probably concentrating on your exams, then going to the art galleria without knowing anything. He sighs, running his hand through his hair. It’s fine. He’ll just somehow find you before you get there and move you to a safer place. 

He ignores what you said and texts you anyway. He types, ‘Y/n, don’t go to the galleria, no matter what. Just listen to me please.” Vernon also texts your friends, hoping one of them will catch you and give the message. 

Groaning frustratedly, he decides to put on his suit and go look for you. Making up an excuse in his head, Vernon runs around the art galleria, passing by everyone with a gust. But he can’t find you. Vernon was getting annoyed. It was getting closer to seven, and he needed to find the bomb. Where were you? 

He spots the police. They’re surrounding the whole place, getting ready to help people once he gets them out and preparing to arrest the bad guys. Vernon searches, but you’re nowhere to be found. He can only hope you’re not here. He zooms past the guards, going in and flying through the whole place. He grabs every person in sight and moves them out in 5 minutes. Now to find the bomb. 

He frowns. Why are there so many people at the galleria today? He just wanted to know where you are. He dashes into one of the exhibits, filled with paintings. He immediately stops. 

It’s you. You’re held by a hooded man, three other dark figures in the room next to what he figures is the bomb. 

Vernon’s heart plummets. How did he not catch you before? He can only look as the man laughs, holding you close with his arm tightly over your chest. Vernon can’t read the expression on your face, but you’re rigid, and your hands and feet are tied. The man grips you harsher. “Well, if it isn’t the little Flash. Move one inch and the bomb goes, along with the girl.” 

Internally, Vernon scoffs. He could take this whole group out in two seconds flat. But he was worried about you. He contemplated his chances, before lunging forward. He deals a few blows to the man before moving to you, undoing your arms and legs. Then he wrangles everyone and brings them out front to the police, everyone in slow motion. 

Strolling back into the galleria, he smashes the bomb with his foot. All in a few seconds. You gasp when you see suddenly him by your side, huddled over you. “Are you alright?” You could’ve gotten seriously hurt,” anger seeping through his voice. You frown. “I’m fine. I said I could take care of myself.” Raising his voice, he snaps, “You could’ve died! How did you even get in here? I went through the whole place, and you were the only person I wasn’t able to get.” 

You sigh. “Why do you care so much? Is it because you’re actually one of my closest friends?” He freezes. What? 

“Vernon,” your voice cracks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes slowly land on you. You’re sitting on the ground, arms around your knees, and staring at the ground like a hurt child. 

Vernon tried to respond, but nothing comes out. You stand up, shaky, but manage to take a couple of steps before he grabs your arm. “Y/n... I-“ but you interrupt him. “Do you like me? Like actually like me?” you ask softly, trying to catch his eye. He finally looks at you, swallowing. “Yeah.. and no. I love you Y/n. And I’m sorry for not telling you, no one knows except for the CIA. I just wanted you to be safe, and especially after today, I can’t lose you.”

You think you feel tears form in your eyes as you throw your arms around him. He relaxes, relishing in your warmth. You’re about to release him, but he tightens his arms around you. You look up, and Vernon leans down to capture your lips with his. It feels warm and you ignore the fluttering in your stomach. 

Breaking the kiss, Vernon realizes something. “Wait.... how did you know I was the Flash?” You roll your eyes, a grin on your face. “It was so obvious, whenever I brought it up you acted soo awkward.” He squeezes your waist playfully, letting out an oh my goddd. You look at him in amusement. “But really, it was after the Flash-I mean you- kissed me that one night. I dunno, it felt like I was kissing you.. and then after that, it just kinda clicked.”

Vernon thoughtfully nods before saying, “You know, we’re literally just standing in the middle of an exhibit. We should probably get out of here. I’m thinking Chinese tonight?” You smile widely. “Whatever you want, mr. flash-who’s-also-my-boyfriend-now?” He grins before picking you up in his arms, zooming off into the night.

❧

You think it’s pretty cool to have a superhero boyfriend. Especially one that can take you to get cookies at your favorite bakery in exactly 2.4 seconds (yes, you timed it). 

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Bertram helps Cravs with a bug problem. They meet each other, but fail to connect the dots... 

Cravendy Hound pants heavily as she BOOKS it, sprinting away from a swarm of bugs and microchus that nip at her heels. She hadn’t even been doing anything prior - just going on a walk by the stream. Just enjoying the crisp, cool air. But it would seem that the elementals had had enough of her target practice, and now the woods don’t seem as peaceful as they were in the past.

Bertram Windshadow had been attempting to do the very same with his own time on this particular day. There were always a myriad of things upon his mind these days. It did him good to simply step out and move without particular direction and unrestrained pace. Wherever to the wind lead him. That is, of course, until he spied a roegadyn woman being harried by the denizens of the Black Shroud. 1/2

Bertram Windshadow came to a stop within the canopy of a moderately sized tree before dropping down to the forest floor so that he could get a better assessment of the situation. He wasn't about to leave someone in trouble . .. in trouble. 2/2

Cravendy Hound stretches her arm back, aims her gun at her pursuers, and fires a couple of rounds. Some of the shots hit microchus, splitting them from the mob momentarily...though, with every one that was dispatched, two would spring from the bushes and take its place. Meanwhile, for the bugs, I simply present to you this question...have you ever fired a gun at a housefly? Would that work? The answer is no. No, it would not work.

Cravendy Hound: “Godsdamned, bleedin’ flyin’ pieces of shite! Overgrown spinach!” Cravs swats at the air as bugs relentlessly buzz around her. In an attempt to get them off her back, she jumps off the side of the cliff and into the river...however, she misjudges the depth of her target. It’s much too shallow to keep the bugs away from her. And now, she’s drenched AND annoyed.

Bertram Windshadow watches quietly for a moment as the stranger attempts to ward off the pests with her firearm. An attempt that causes the highlander to wince slightly just before she plunges herself into the drink . .. well, at least as much as she could manage in the relative shallowness. 1/3

Bertram Windshadow could only assume that the single-minded focus of these creatures could only come from one place. She'd done something to annoy the Elementals. Not enough to rouse them to outright *anger*, but . .. enough to peeve them. It was an easy mistake to make and Bertram figured they'd more than learned the lesson no need for further assault. 2/3

Bertram Windshadow reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a small orb. With a firm press, and a quiet click, it began belching out a stream of smoke or fog. The man then quickly rolled it in the direction of Cravendy in the hopes of helping disperse the swarm of bugs! 3/3

(Cravendy Hound) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnHmskwqCCQ )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( *dies* This was what was *exactly* what was playing in my heat. ))

Cravendy Hound is too busy swatting away the bugs and plant monsters to notice the source of the sudden smoke, so she thinks it’s the Elementals toying with her further. Her confusion serves to make her even angrier. “If yer gonna kill me, just do it an’ be done with it!” What follows is a long-winded, story of a swear that ends with a coughing fit.

Cravendy Hound - The smoke, meanwhile, does disperse the bugs. They now hover at the edges of where the cloud stops. You can’t see through it, though you can certainly hear all sorts of things happening beneath its foggy exterior.

Bertram Windshadow bobs his head to the side slightly and makes his way forward at a slightly accelerated pace, breaking his way into the opaque cloud and speaking so that he can make his presence known. "I don't think you're going to get killed today, stranger, but we should probably get you closer to Gridania ..." He calls out before attempting to reach out and touch Cravendy's arm to let her know where he is.

Cravendy Hound: “Who, in the name of Llymlaen’s left teat, are you?!” Upon being touched, she instinctively aims her gun right at Bertram, and then glances to the side. “Behind ye!”

Cravendy Hound - Her aim shifts ever so slightly, from being pointed at Bertram’s forehead to something else entirely. The shot rings out, wind brushing dangerously close to his ear, and then sinks directly into a microchu that had been sneaking up behind them. “Gods, ye...let’s get out of ‘ere.”

Bertram Windshadow winces visibly -- or invisibly given the current circumstances -- at the sound of the gunshot so close to his ear. The ear on that side of his head was nothing but ringing in the moment and he could barely make out the latter half of her speaking. My this woman was an aggressive one. Some dots were starting to connect regarding the Shrouds current state of upset. 1/2

Bertram Windshadow called out in a voice slightly louder than necessary, "Let's get out of here," he echoes her sentiment without realizing it. "They're just going to keep coming if you fight them like that." 2/2

Cravendy Hound nods. She had no desire to let the ‘friendly, forest friends’ have their way for any longer. “Gridania’s a tad far...But Hyrstmill’s just a rock skip away. Let’s find a ‘ovel to ‘ole in and be done with this.”

Bertram Windshadow has to strain to hear the suggestion, but he calls out with an affirmative sound before reaching in to the same pouch again to remove another sphere. With a 'click' the smoke begins to spew and he pivots on a heel to face the direction of the small outpost. As he does he throws his arm back and then swings it forward; throwing the smoke-spewing orb like a bowling ball. In its path it leaves a trail of smoke. "That'll hopefully then thin the herd and give us an opening!"

Cravendy Hound stares curiously at the orb, and then back to Bertram. It clicks in her mind. The smoke? Not the Elementals. This guy. This...stranger, who happens to have smoke-spewing orbs in his possession. Questions would have to wait until after they weren’t being hounded by angry flies and grass. She makes a break for Hrystmill, coughing all the while.

Bertram Windshadow set his pace to match Cravendy's as he kept himself in her wake. He felt compelled to keep an eye out for anything that might lunge at the woman while she was making a break for it. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting to do with his day but it certainly beat being stuck in his own head. "Just keep running they'll break off eventually!"

(Cravendy Hound) LOL I'm seeing an unintentional, but reoccuring theme...in an earlier rp, cravs sucked in a feather and had a coughing fit. After this, she's gonna be super hoarse xD )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( Hahaha! It helps in sounding grumpy!! )) (Cravendy Hound) let's move to hrystmill! :3 )) (Cravendy Hound) LOL 6-pack a day scratchy voice. "WATER..." ))

Cravendy Hound - As they run, they can hear, but not see, the monsters pursuing close behind. But eventually, as Hrystmill comes into view, the noise grows fainter and fainter. In reclaimed silence, the sound of hearts pounding and panting breaths come back to the forefront. Cravs lets out a long groan and falls to the ground in a kneel. She beats the dirt twice with her fist, gets back up, and faces Bertram. She has no idea what to say.

Cravendy Hound: “.................So. That ‘appened.”

Bertram Windshadow eases as the sound of pursuit fades a quiet breath draining from his lungs as he finally gives himself a moment to glance over his shoulder. It hadn't seemed like they were in *mortal* danger, but it was hard to say when an elemental would decide to be a little extra cranky at any given moment. He dusted his hands off on his legs as he shifted his attention back to Cravendy. "Sure did ..." he answered, allowing himself a quiet laugh before bobbing his head to the side.

Bertram Windshadow: "I hope they didn't get any nasty bites in ..."

Cravendy Hound: “Couple of bruises and scratches, but nothin’ major. Gods, first dodos, now bugs and bloodthirsty flowers.” She lets out a long sigh. The world was conspiring against her, which...well, was fair, as she had a lot to answer for. But she wondered, why now? Why not before, or later? One thing is for sure, though. She’s thankful that this stranger was here to help out.

Cravendy Hound sizes up Bertram. He looks kind of familiar, but she shelves that feeling off to the side. “Thanks for ‘elping out. I’m Cravs. And ye are?”

(Bertram Windshadow) (( Would Bertram know that nickname? I don't *think* he would, but I figured I'd check before having him be oblivious, hahaha (Cravendy Hound) hmm I mean, she refers to herself as such, but idk if others would to her?? haha )) (Cravendy Hound) up to you really :P )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( I think Lin has only said Cravendy to him! So I don't think he'd make the immediate connection! Not yet anyway! ))

Bertram Windshadow bobs his head to the side slightly, "I can't pretend to know *why* but I think you did something to upset the elementals," he offered quietly as he finished dusting himself off and glancing around Hyrstmill, ". .. they can be a bit sensitive about how you treat the forest." He pauses for a moment before dipping his head toward the woman. "It's nice to meet you Cravs. Most folk these days call me Windshadow."

Cravendy Hound brings a hand up to her face and covers it in thought. Upset the elementals...no. Her target practice? She had thought since it was an accident, it’d be fine, but perhaps not. Blast it all, now she’d have to get a conjurer to help her apologize to those, frankly, eldritch spirits.

Cravendy Hound: “Windshadow. Now that’s a title -and- a mouthful...any reason why people call ye that?” Her brows knit together and her eyes narrow. He clearly wasn’t your average adventurer, judging from his gear. “That yer secret, crime fightin’ identity or somethin’?”

Bertram Windshadow blinks in surprise, though not that one could tell from behind the visor, at her comment. He'd never really thought about it like *that* before. There's an awkward pause before Bertram's hand rises up to the back of his neck and he shook his head. "Oh, no. It's nothing like that," he responds with a laughing tone, "It's ... an epithet. A Gyr Abanian thing."

Bertram Windshadow: "I can be ... pretty fast when I need to be. Quiet too."

Cravendy Hound just realizes that she’s smiling. Everything that had happened in the past hour. The smoke, the running...and now, Windshadow standing here, as polite as could be. He was an amusing enigma to her. “No need to be bashful. If people call ye something like that, then I doubt ye only go ‘pretty’ fast. But can ye outrun a chocobo? I’d be willin’ to bet against ye.”

Cravendy Hound laughs - the challenge only half serious. “But seriously. Ye saved my ‘ide back there. What can I do for ye...’ow about round of drinks on me?”

Bertram Windshadow can only laugh a bit more fully at the prospective challenge, his head shaking slightly as a smile finds solid purchase upon his lips. "Depends on the terrain and distance, honestly. A 'bo's going to out last me in the long run on flat ground." He shakes his head gently, as though he was dismissing the thought as overly self-indulgent. He cleared his throat at the new offer. "I ... " he pauses, tilting his head to the side, "... I wouldn't turn down a drink or two, no."

Bertram Windshadow: "But I'm just glad to have been at the right place at the right time."

Cravendy Hound scratches the back of her head, amused by how seriously Windshadow is taking the chocobo challenge. She can hardly imagine what it’d look like for a hyur to move that quickly. Would he send himself sailing forward like a rocket, or would he just move his limbs -that fast-?! Either way, she steps over and playfully bumps his shoulder with her fist. “I know a spot nearby that serves a solid Mun-Tuy Brew. Over ‘ere.”

Cravendy Hound would bring the two of them to an unassuming establishment. When she enters, she dips her head towards the Elezen barkeep, who returns the gesture. By the time Cravs takes a seat, the barkeep has already set out two cups and a bottle of brew on the table. The usual.

Bertram Windshadow laughed -- albeit a bit nervously -- as Cravendy bumped his shoulder gently while passing by while making her way further into the town. He certainly couldn't complain about a good drink of mun tuy so he followed behind her whilst glancing around the village with a thoughtful expression. He didn't say too much on the way but, as he settled in before the second cup of drink, he couldn't help but ask. "What had you out in this neck of the woods anyway?"

Cravendy Hound has already finished a cup and is halfway through pouring herself another glass. She places the bottle back to the center of the table with a satisfying, though loud, thump. “......Ye’d be surprised ‘ow far those critters chased me. That said, I come out ‘ere now and again. Nice trees, nice folk.” She clears her throat, and then says in a slightly lower voice: “The drinks not bad too.”

Bertram Windshadow might have -- perhaps -- been attempting to discern what the woman might have down to agitate the elementals, but ... he didn't seem like he was about to start prying where he wasn't invited. It didn't seem like he was Like That. Instead he bobbed his head forward and began a much more *measured* approach to his drinking. "I find it similarly calming. Spend time up in the boughs can really help clear the head when you're feeling a bit overwhelmed."

Cravendy Hound raises a brow. “So, ye run really fast, and ye have orbs that shoot out smoke. What are ye, some kind of courier? If ye feelin’ overwhelmed, then just tell the big man to stuff it. Don’t work so much.” She lifts her cup up with a grin. “Lifes too short not to indulge in the good stuff.”

(Cravendy Hound) lmao I can't get over how these two haven't connected the dots )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( It's *pretty* great! Hahaha. ))

Bertram Windshadow tilts his head to the side slightly as he listens to Cravendy's Words of Wisdom. He sips upon his drink thoughtfully for a moment before giving a concessionary bob of his head. He certainly found himself dwelling on the bad recently. Though it wasn't quite related to work as she might be assuming. Given his effective unemployment at the moment. "... I suppose that's true." He murmurs quietly, maybe more to himself than to Cravendy proper, "Is that what you were doing out there?"

Cravendy Hound leans back on her chair, feet propped up on the table. “Chin up. Ye seem the earnest type. Try at somethin’ long enough and it’ll change, eventually.” She takes another sip and listens to the sound of the waterwheel turning on the river. Windshadow’s second question gives her pause. “What? Was I...out ‘ere to indulge, ye mean?”

Bertram Windshadow quietly nods his head in response to her further words of assurance -- though it seemed difficult to determine how they were received behind the vidor -- before she asked her clarifying question. "Oh," he cleared his throat and shook his head, "Well, that or just ... enjoying the 'good stuff' as it were."

Cravendy Hound smirks, and gestures to the alcohol on the table, as if that was answer enough to his question. The two made an interesting drinking duo, and Cravs found herself drawn to her withdrawn, fast-running companion. When they eventually parted ways, she let him know that he was welcome to swing by for another round of drinks...or perhaps, she would find him, and make good on her bet that he could outrun a chocobo.

[pastelninjaimagines]

head canons on modern au akatsuki (except tobi and zetsu) going on a roadtrip + camping and the chaos that ensures?

So I know you said no Tobi…but I can’t bring myself to leave out best boi Obito, so I hope including Obito (not the Tobi personality) is cool - mod tina

The Roadtrip

Nagato has no clue how Deidara, Kisame and Hidan were able to convince him to approve the camping trip, but his pounding headache that began not even 10 minutes into the road trip with them all piled into the van tells him that he was out of his mind

Kisame and Kakuzu were tasked with packing up the car, with Sasori occasionally butting in to rearrange their work. They had to pile in all the camping gear, some of it getting tied to the roof of the car. Anyone’s bags that weren’t brought out by 8:30 am sharp weren’t allowed to be in the car bc it’s hard enough to fit everyone in plus “a bunch of junk,” as Sasori put it. 

Kakuzu drives. No ifs ands or buts. If he doesn’t drive then no one is going anywhere, he’ll ensure it. He’s the ultra grumpy old man, and as far as he’s concerned, the only responsible driver (sure, Sasori and Itachi could potentially be responsible enough to drive - but Itachi’s nearsighted and not the greatest long distance driver, and Sasori has major road rage, he will either drive them into a ditch or run someone else off the road). They leave right at nine, not a minute later. So, “if your ass isn’t in a seat, your ass gets left.” Kakuzu states too that he isn’t pulling off the road every thirty minutes for someone to take a piss, so they better be prepared to either hold it or whatever, bc he isn’t stopping until he deems it necessary to stop (aka to fill up on gas - or to pull up to McDonalds drive through and order 1 cup of black coffee)  

Konan designates herself as navigator, bc again, she’s responsible - more so than the other “candidates” and won’t get sidetracked. Kaukzu also respects her enough to actually follow the directions she gives him. She’s a calm presence in the passenger seat. She won’t set off Kakuzu’s hairline anger, and she’s in a good position to cool everyone off if the back of the car gets too rowdy. Occasionally she’ll turn around and try to have a quiet conversation with Nagato, or she’s lowering the volume on the stereo that Deidara continuously tries to crank up. If there’s a quiet moment, she likes to sit back and close her eyes or gaze out at the scenery, appreciating the landscape as it whirls by

Sasori sits behind Kakuzu and every once in a while tries to play backseat driver by making very offhanded comments consisting of: “Shouldn’t you have turned there?” “Could’ve gotten there by now if I drove.” “Do you even know where you’re going?” “Can you drive? You’re not even going the speed limit.” If he’s not nagging, he’s listening to his own music, airods in. He’s not listening to the trash Deidara is playing from the stereo longer than absolutely necessary, it’s enough that they have to sit next to each other in the cramped car - bc of course they do. Deidara’s constantly chattering or fiddling with the radio, the self-proclaimed dj for the trip. He’s turning around to have loud, boisterous conversations with Hidan or he and Obito are playing card games. Obito seems to have brought an endless supply of card games, so either he or Deidara are playing or he and Nagato are. Obito and Nagato have deemed themselves as “keepers of the snacks” and occasionally give whatever preferred snack is requested, sometimes they deny whoever’s asking (aka Deidara or Hidan) if that said member is making too much noise

Kakuzu requested that Hidan was as far away from him as possible, so he’s sitting in the back row, now Kisame and Itachi’s problem. Hidan just babbles constantly about nonsense. So if Deidara doesn’t turn around to keep him occupied, he’s talking Kisame’s ear off. Itachi ignores him, and everyone else (or at least tries to) by reading a book. And when it simply gets too noisy for him to concentrate, he pulls out his thermos with hot tea he made that morning to sip on and stares out the window, hoping the monotony of the scenery lulls him to sleep at one point. 

Do they get a flat? Of course they do. And do Kakuzu and Sasori get into a loud argument about who’s fault is it that they god a flat? Duh. They argue while Kisame very calmly changes the flat tire and gets the car all ready to go again. Once they get on the road again, everyone’s a bit calmer and quieter, and its smooth sailing from there until they arrive at their destination

Camping 

Putting up their camp sight is chaotic order in the best of ways. It all gets done, but there’s a lot of shouting and confusion in the process thanks to either some of them being lazy, too loud, or both. Would anyone be surprised to know that Kisame does most of the work with putting things together. If anyone needs help putting up their tent, he does it for them kindly and with a smile. He starts the fire pit, gathering a ring of stones and tasks others to find good firewood, etc. They set themselves up with all of their tents in a circle. The first day of them at the camp sight is really just organizing and trying not to kill each other. Most are actually excited, being all together out in the wilderness, away from the modern technology and others’ intrusions. It’s peaceful for most of them, and by the time the daylight is starting to fade, they’ve all gathered around the campfire that’s blazing big and bright. Nagato and Konan offered to prepare their first meal, some canned foods, heated up on their cast fire pots. As darkness descends over the camp and all that’s left for light is their fire, they begin to trade spooky stories. They all go around telling whatever scary stories they have, and then vote on who’s was the best/scariest. They vote Sasori’s mainly for his delivery which was very unsettling and creepy

The next morning they make a quick breakfast and go out to do whatever activities strike their interest. Kisame and Itachi go out hiking, and go up high into the mountains until they find a lake where Kisame can do some fishing. Itachi likes to sit against a tree trunk overlooking a cliff and read, taking in the beautiful scenery that stretches out below. Deidara, Hidan and Obito decided that they would go canoeing. They went down to the big, winding river and set off, racing each other around bends to see who could go the fastest. it was all going well until they hit the rapids unassumingly, and they all got swept away until it was over, Hidan actually got tipped overboard and had to get himself out of the canoe while underwater. They had to go a few miles downstream to retrieve the abandoned canoe and make their way back, all laughing about the unexpected detour. Sasori goes off by himself on a hike, discovering a cave and explores the deep, damp darkness of it for a while, but goes back to camp with some sticks he’s collected and starts widdling the sticks into figures of woodland animals. Kakuzu stays at the camp sight, no one knows really what he does all day, but he says he has to stay to “safe guard my belongings.” Konan and Nagato go off hiking too along the river, until Nagato gets too tired from the sun and has to rest, so they find a nice spot just to relax before heading back to camp. 

Kisame and Itachi are the last to return to camp as the afternoon grows very late, but they return with some fish that Kisame offers to grill up for that night’s meal. They opt out of telling ghost stories around the campfire to instead enjoy the board games that Obito brought. They play until everyone gets tired and goes to bed or decides that while they’re too tired to play, they can always go star gazing, and look up at all the brilliant little lights in the sky, so much more clear out in the wilderness than in civilization. 

The next day, everyone does again whatever activities that they didn’t get a chance to partake in, but Sasori mentions to Itachi and Kakuzu that he found a cave that could easily be set up to scare a certain gullible blond and an overly religious albino. That night, Itachi convinces Kisame to be the friendly face to lead Deidara and Hidan to the cave. hyping it up that they should see the underwater lake that it leads to, however he doesn’t go in with them. Sasori orchestrated that the flashlight Deidara was using would malfunction, by replacing one of the batteries with a corroded one. Konan dressed up as a ghost girl to float around with “blood” on her face, while Itachi and Kakuzu generated eerie sounds coming form deeper within the cave. The pair ran out screaming on the sight of Konan’s “dead body” lying bloody on the cave floor, and Sasori snapped a picture of their shocked faces when they emerged in from the mouth of the cave. Deidara and Hidan were not amused in the slightest once they realized they’d been tricked. 

When they decide that they’ve had enough of camping and that it’s time to head back into society, they pack up, making sure to clean up all of their trash and try to make their clearing look as untouched as they had found it, piling all of their belongings back into the van with themselves as well. Kakuzu warns that anyone not in the van when he gets the engine started is left behind, and he’s not turning around to pick up their sorry ass. 

[joy1579]

Roof Top Affection

this is just me venting via     

Jumin x MC ficlet (1400 words)

MC struggles with feeling of emptiness that compels her to visit the roof of the penthouse despite the dangers, when Jumin is alerted he is not happy. (I don’t write angst guys this doesn't have angst it has like two seconds of sad and then a whole shiz ton of fluff)

also if your interested feel free to check out my master list

If you leaned forward just a bit, you could see the street below. If you closed your eyes and focused on the wind in your hair you could imagine you were falling. If you sat here long enough, you hoped maybe you could let go of the tightness that had somehow lodged itself in your chest.

It had taken incredible planning to get here. You had watched the guards for days before you sneak away. They wouldn’t have stopped you of course, but they would tell Jumin and he would worry. It isn’t that you wanted to worry him. you had simply been so stuck recently. Between the guards and the reporters, you felt suffocated, before you had married Jumin you had been a nobody, invisible to practically everyone and you had reveled in the solitude of it.

Now you sat on the edge of the roof of one of the tallest buildings in the city just to find a second of mock silence. the wind was loud and cold at this height it whipped around you as dangled your legs over the edge of the roof. no one could see you up here unless they were looking and you weren’t unfamiliar with heights like this quite the opposite actually. You sought them out regularly, they felt safe to you, as though your worries where tethered to the ground and through little more than mere distance from earth you could leave them behind. So it was fitting than that your ultimate solace came in this admittedly foolish game of chicken. How close to the edge could you bring yourself before the fear of falling drew you back inside. This was the farthest you had ever come, sat on the ledge legs dangling off eye’s closed and simply feeling the thrill of being so close.

“Mrs. Han.” Came the booming and authoritative voice of Jumin’s most trusted body guard “please step back from the ledge carefully Mr. Han has been called and will be hear soon”. The pseudo silence you had chased was shattered and you noticed the noise of the city suddenly still you couldn’t bring yourself to stand just yet, you gazed over the edge one final time. You could hear the heavy foot falls of the guard coming to retrieve you and you sighed. You put your hand up to stop him and stood of your own volition meeting him halfway. “I am to - ”

“escort me back to the penthouse to await my husband? Don’t worry so much I understand.” You smiled up at him and saw his nervous and melancholy frown. As he nodded and followed behind you as you made your way back inside.

“Ma’am? May I ask why you were up there?” he pressed gently only the barest hint of hesitance in his voice.

“of course you may, the real question is will I have an answer for you.” you said teasingly trying to lighten the mood at least a little. If you could convince the guard it was no big deal you had a better chance of convincing Jumin. You didn’t want to lie however “the wind up there is exciting. The view is breathtaking. Honestly it just, calls to me like a siren. Do you know about sirens? Jumin read me a book on mythology once and it talked about these creatures that sang so beautifully that they drew unsuspecting sailors into rocky waters, I think the roof is my siren. I know it’s dangerous but when I hear that melody, imagine that feeling, breathe that air, I can’t say no. I don’t plan on doing anything bad though so you shouldn’t worry”. Okay even you had to admit that sounded worrying. So much for playing this off as something trivial.

You reached the door to the pent house quickly and he sat with you stiffly until Jumin rushed in. you could see the immediate relief on his face when he saw you sat safely away from any dangerous ledges. You also saw the relief crumble behind a cold anger as the body guard moved to his post outside the penthouse door. Jumin sat in an armchair to your left and you watched him run his hands through his hair in exasperation trying to find the right words.

“It’s not what you think” you say cutting him off before he can speak, “I wasn’t planning to leave you. I could never leave you, I love you. I just,” but you trailed off losing your words at the sight of his hands shaking, the lost and broken look in his eyes.

“Just what MC? what on earth could have made you do something so reckless?” he said reckless but you heard the meaning behind it. Stupid, how could you do something so stupid, and how could you blame him really. You had known from the beginning that it was stupid, stupid and dangerous and breathtaking.

“Jumin I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. do you remember telling me about the threads that wrapped around your throat? They strangled you, held you back, hurt you. I have them on my heart they constrict in my chest until I can’t feel anything at all, but up there the wind and the quiet and the chill it helps. Their still their still tied around my heart but they loosen.”

He looked at you and you could feel his fear. The ever confident business man was nowhere to be seen in that moment. “you helped me untangle my threads MC. I want to do the same for you” you had never heard his voice waver like it did when he spoke the next words “but I can’t lose you like V lost Rika.”

Your heart froze and you moved from your spot on the couch. You knelt at his feet, held one of his hands securely in yours and leaned to meet his downcast eyes. “Jumin, I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. When I go up there I do it to feel something, not to stop feeling everything. I’m not Rika you won’t lose me.”

Without a word he pulled you off the floor and into his lap. You wrapped your arms around him mimicking his tight hold on you occasionally raking your fingers through his hair soothingly. Slowly you could feel him relax feel him unwind around you as you gently and quietly chanted your love to him.

“I’ll build you a sky walk. Clear flooring and handrails. You’ll be able to be up there and still stay safe, but you have to take a guard next time.” You chuckle a little at that, he had always been a problem solver, of course he would find you a way to feel the city beneath you safely. “MC? please talk to me when you feel that way. I hate to imagine you suffering alone”

“anything for you love” you purr nuzzling your head into his neck before sneaking a kiss onto the skin there. The next few days he stays home from work to be with you. one day you take him up to the roof and sit with him feeling the wind in your hair and leaning against him. he admits it’s nice but it makes him nervous none the less, having you so vulnerable. He asks if you want to see a councilor after reading that thrill seeking behavior is linked to depression you agree on the condition that he attend with you the first few times. It helps him as much as it helps you, and though you don’t attend long you learn how to better cope with the periods of emptiness. In the meantime, an observatory is built on the roof and a skywalk is added these become a major tourist draw despite being open to the public only on the weekends. During the weekdays you enjoy planning for the upcoming RFA parties while lounging on the skywalk, with its crystal clear flooring and guard rails you often feel like there is nothing above or below you. Jumin often joins you for lunch relishing the view and your ever growing cheer.

[endlessdoom]

The Plutonia Experiment

32 maps megawad.

By the brothers Casali.

1996.

https://doomwiki.org/wiki/The_Plutonia_Experiment

Level 1: Congo

Iconic beginning that presents us one of the most popular tricks of Plutonia: Chaingunners, Archies and a lot of pain. Pretty hot start that delivers quite greatly.

Level 2: Well of Souls

An elevator styled entrance that delivers quite the punchy level with some awesome ‘‘congo’‘ vibes more than the actual congo level.

Level 3: Aztec

Iconic beginning that presents us one of the most popular tricks of Plutonia ''invisible bridges'' I'm not a fan of them but I can see the charm in this first level.

Level 4: Caged

Surrounded on all sides and ready to die The first level of Plutonia that presents the classic style of difficulty but keeps a nice balance between exploration and combat.

Level 5: Ghost Town

We are moving to a tighter and more traditional format but one that remains constant though somewhat simpler.

Level 6: Baron's Lair

One of my favorites. A medium size level but with a more interesting layout that reveals different areas of combat and a dynamic and entertaining progression.

Level 7: Caughtyard

Another of my favorites and one of the icons of the set. This is a simple square map sand style but with a pretty hot gameplay that will take blind-players by surprise. It still has a good quality of play and is fun to play with at all times.

Level 8: Realm

A bit punishing at times but with a fluid design.

Level 9: Abattoire

Quite open and with a more bloody combat. This is one of the first big maps and takes us through a somewhat different but acceptable adventure.

Level 10: Onslaught

With a design that makes more use of exteriors, this level combines a beautiful design with an attractive and challenging gameplay.

Level 11: Hunted

Oh boy. This is probably one of the most iconic maps in history. A great labyrinth where the only enemies are nothing more and nothing less than Archviles. What does of this one a quite destructive and frustrating adventure for moments, but the simple originality of the concept does of this one a fascinating map.

Level 12: Speed

Moving is the key, although not as fast as the map indicates. A high design and a few surprises make this a nice and drastic adventure.

Level 13: The Crypt

Towards the depths of a tolerable map.

Level 14: Genesis

Smaller than normal but with a closed circuit design that allows constant movement and gameplay that flows like the wind.

Level 15: The Twilight

(Exit to secret level)

Things get hot. We need good moves and a bit of strategy to advance a more tactical map and with a less merciful gameplay but always maintaining a solid quality.

Level 16: The Omen

A small level with a lot of intensity. Developed in a simple system of capture of keys which are at first sight and without major problem. The combat, however, is developed as a system of constant surprises in which the player will be ambushed at every given opportunity, creating an intense level that despite having a duration of about 6 minutes manages to deliberate an entertaining gameplay with a design that, even if it is simplistic, does the job in a good way. Some areas can be a bit annoying (deliberately) and makes it a bit difficult to get around, but Plutonia has far harsher maps and this one feels more like an intermission that lets us rest a bit.

Level 17: Compound

Another short level that follows the same visual theme of this chapter. What we have here now is a more intricate design with an entertaining layout that combines a bit of traditional style with certain abstract structures. With a more fluid but equally hot combat, this is a fast level that enjoys a good flow.

Level 18: Neurosphere

Interestingly fluid, dynamic and quite intense without necessarily being destructive. This is a level that has a very entertaining flow that allows to appreciate the combat of a more dynamic way at the same time that it stays stable and balanced before the player, taking into account the difficulty of the most famous maps of this game. I could say that this map feels more like a MAP01, or at least it could have been very successful as the first map.

Level 19: NME

Hot and short in size, but well packaged. That sounds weird. This is a pretty intense map that sees us in a tight fight and requires a little more anticipation to survive, as well as a few surprises that can take us by surprise. With a nice design but a bit stressful combat, it is a solid map. All the maps have been pretty solid, actually.

Level 20: The Death Domain

Something a little more traditional but welcome, with a good collection of Chaingunners and a circular but constant layout.

Level 21: Slayer

A circular map with an intricate design that takes us through an intense but entertaining combat.

Level 22: Impossible Mission

Square and designed based on rooms with different boxes. It follows a somewhat sporadic flow and can be slightly lost but maintains a solid visual warmth to compensate. Combat stays normally-balanced up until the end. But overall, fun enough.

Level 23: Tombstone

Long and with a complex design. A little bit of unnecesary backtracking at times but it makes up for it with an intense and fun gameplay.

Level 24: The Final Frontier

Fantastic small enigmatic map with an abstract design that will make us go through a little trial and error until we find the victory. Playing this map with the MIDI pack is orgasmic.

Level 25: The Temple of Darkness

Long and with multiple monster closets as well as tight and tactical combat. A nice, intense and full of adrenaline map.

Level 26: Bunker

Simple style and even has some touches of Heretic but with good combat although a bit of a puzzle/lost layout.

Level 27: Anti-Christ

Great, fun and hot. With a dynamic combat and varied heights, which gives good depth to the fight and makes us go through a well-balanced and entertaining challenge.

Level 28: The Sewers

Enigmatic. It leaves somewhat disturbing airs which gives it a good presentation. With a somewhat lost but well structured layout manages to create a slightly longer adventure with good action.

Level 29: Odyssey of Noises

Iconic for different reasons and controversial for others. This is an attractive map with an urban style like Sandy, combining abstract buildings with a little more attractive architecture. With an expansive and big layout, the map is quite long and a bit lost, but it compensates with a good gameplay and open combat.

Level 30: The Gateway of Hell

The end of Plutonia. A decent IoS fight with a bit of foreshadowing and good build up to the final battle, which has a few tricks up its sleeve. Overall, decent, but definitely one of the best IoS of the IWADs, if not the best.

Level 31: Cyberden

(Exit to super secret level)

Interesting gimmick map with a few Cyberdemons to keep us company.

Level 32: Go 2 It

The iconic Go 2 It. It doesn't need many words other than to say that it is a pioneer of a particular style and features a gameplay and layout as violent as it is fantastic, though unfair and cruel at times.

End.

» Overall:

The Plutonia Experiment (1996)

By Dario and Milo Casali

In 1996, history was made. Final Doom, the last expansion of the classic Doom, is finally released and with it brings to our eyes two of the most iconic megawads in history. The Plutonia Experiment is one of those holy or not so holy grails that we adore to this day. Considered by many as an irreplicable milestone in the history of Doom and by others as an outdated and particularly cruelly designed work. Whatever the opinion, we can all easily accept that Plutonia came to stay sedimented among the most influential megawads in history.

Made by the brothers Casali in an almost speedmapping way, almost indeed, the Plutonia Experiment, or simply Plutonia, is one of a kind, specially during the 90s when the world of WADs was still in a very primitive, almost baby-like state. Of course, things would change quite quickly but not until Final Doom hit the shelves, and oh boy did it also hit the Doom community. Of course, it is such an iconic work that it is practically as famous as the original Doom 2 or Ultimate Doom itself, bringing with its different mechanics and creative tricks that would later be replicated several times in other distinctive and fantastic ways, creating a cycle of improvements and approaches to new ideas. Plutonia is nothing new, not at all, but it's something I've barely gotten to discover properly. While I played it a long, long time ago, I could barely remember the first five levels, much less the last few. I wanted to give it one more spin, one where I could fully appreciate the creation of this magnificent specimen. I did it and now I can see with a different eye the reason for the appreciation of this megawad. The cult of the Plutonia lies deep and with a very good reason.

Visually speaking, Plutonia is twice better looking than Doom 2, and quite frankly, TNT: Evilution, and that’s something I think we can all agree upon (well, pretty much anything looks better than Doom 2 now a days.) with no major problem. Interestingly, the levels were created by only two people, which gives a certain sense of respect for the creative capacity and practical ability of the Casali brothers. Dario did a total of 14 levels while his brother Milo did a total of 18, giving their respective authors a fairly respectable number. Which level was made by whom? That we will probably never know, although speculation may tell us certain things and analysis of map techniques others, at least we can all agree that the two authors show a well-defined quality in terms of their overall quality. Almost all Plutonia maps are attractive to look at, fun to admire and have generally understandable layouts with no major visual or progressive detractors. From the first iconic level to the last IoS, each map has a distinctive shape that gives it a certain renown, with, obviously, some maps standing out more than others, such as Congo for its respective high level of difficulty for a first level, or Hunted, for its unique way of screwing up our day with a few thousand Arch-Viles (is actually just a few dozen, but let’s drop some salt in it).

Each 10 maps are divided into chapters with a specific visual theme. The first 10 are Earth Levels, with the next 10 being Hell Levels and the last 10 being Devil Hive levels, a unique mix of particularly atrocious levels with disturbing visuals. Of course, the all-mighty secret levels also have a distinctive look, but they are not particular adherent to any other chapter. The first 11 levels manage to create that earthy feel quite well by offering brown textures that seem to recreate fortresses or human settlements, as well as clearly palpable architecture and realistic definitions without needing to be hyper-realistic. They just look good for what they need to work for. From map 12 to 20 we have the infernal levels that try to recreate what seems to be hell cities, or places with red tints. In one way or another, they manage to evoke dark sensations and also offer iconic battles in rivers of blood and red skies. From level 21 to 30 we finally have the center of all corruption. The Devil Hive levels are maps that recreate inner sectors of hell, such as capitals or demonic cities. Most of them usually look good and offer long combat spaces, although some maps can be a little longer than necessary, each of them satisfies.

And when we talk about satisfaction, we, of course, have to talk about gameplay. This is probably the most brilliant point of Plutonia, and one that many would consider essential in the history of Doom WAD development. Plutonia introduced, without a doubt, the most difficult original levels of all classic Doom, making use of a totally cruel creative and planning freedom that is designed to envelop the player in levels of absolute carnage and unnecessary insanity. This resulted in a plethora of iconic levels that stand out for their absurd early difficulty, as I said earlier, Congo is probably the ideal map to represent what Plutonia is all about. I don't have to say anything else; this has already been said to death: Revenants, Chaingunners, Arch-Viles, Barons, Mancubus. Be prepared to see them in whole hordes. However, what do I think of this? Well, at first, I must admit I was a bit skeptical about my initial reaction, since I'm usually more of a fan of casual WADs that show some mercy to the players, on the other hand, I also appreciate a good shot of adrenaline to get the glands moving. Plutonia is definitely going for the latter. What we have here is the introduction of what I, and many, consider the proto-slaughtermap. Before Hell Revealed, Plutonia already had the first slaughter-style maps, such as the immortal Got 2 It. These are brutal maps, even for modern years. Sure, many other WADs have managed to surpass Plutonia's overall difficulty, including its famed unofficial sequel, but Plutonia is the starting point where it all began and from there were born distinctive WAD making moves that would later be sedimented as part of the iconic variety of this beautiful community. I can't hate that, it's simply impossible since it's a factor that, despite being so divergent, brought about a change that would end up favoring the freedom of design and the brutality of the unforgivable gameplay.

I enjoyed every second of it, from start to finish without encountering any major difficulties and that's pretty incredible, considering that all other IWADs have at least one major negative quality that tends to affect my enjoyment. Plutonia, on the other hand, didn't present me with any truly annoying factors. Even its brutal difficulty was extremely enjoyable and I'm sure it has managed to survive modern times precisely because of that.

Sure, it's a bit old, and some maps tend to be a bit more boring to look at than others, but it's a journey through time that launches us into the golden grail that everyone wanted to reach during the 90s. A time when everyone was waiting for the ''Next Plutonia''. The Casali brothers created a movement that would forever remain on the plaques of Doom history, and for that and much more, I think we should all be thankful that what we have here is, without a doubt, the best IWAD ever. Plutonia is an experience and one that everyone, without fail, should try sometime in their life. It may kick your ass, but a kick never felt so good.

[incoherentbabblings]

An Endless Hope (2/9)

After a horrendous blizzard falls over Gotham, Tim undergoes a sharp change in character before disappearing. Upon discovering what has become of him, Stephanie sets off on a solo journey in a magic realm to bring him home, meeting some faces which seems awfully familiar along the way.

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“Our tires have gone. Cracked and popped.” Red Robin reported, switching the interior car lights on, as Stephanie pulled out a small laptop tablet, switching to checking satellite views of the city. Tim peered at his dashboard, noting, “GPS says we’re down by Stagg Enterprises and the Trigate bridge but honestly… it’s reached whiteout. We can get out and –”

“No.” Batman interrupted. “Stay put. If your tires have frozen up it’s too cold for our suits for any trek across the city. I’m not far in my car. Signal, Robin, what did you find?”

“Mr. Freeze is a dead end.” Duke said over the commlink. “He made the valid point of this not doing much for his research. He was worried about the power outage.”

Red Robin and Batgirl, sat in Tim’s redbird car, watched the snow fly around them, heating blasting out hot air to keep the car and them from freezing. Tim peered out the windscreen, whiteout leaving them blind to the world. They could leave, but it was approaching minus thirty. Their regular suits were good… but not that good. For the moment, they were stranded, waiting for Bruce and his tank of a Batmobile to come to the rescue.

“It’s bizarre.” Batgirl said, scrolling through data. “Weather doesn’t work like this. The storm is just over Gotham. That’s not…that’s not physically possible. Blizzards are usually hundreds of miles wide. Not thirty and constricted to a bay. It came out of nowhere. There’s no way the air could grow cold that fast to freeze all that water naturally. And the wind is at eighty miles per hour. Normally it’s around forty.”

“The Flash has a weather themed villain.” Robin supplied.

“I checked.” Cassandra’s quiet voice, barely audible over the storm she was standing in, came over the speakers. The screaming wind cut off when she got inside, the door of wherever she was slamming shut. “He’s in Iron Heights. It’s not him.”

Stephanie continued to look through local news, in and outside of the city, desperate for someone over social media to have spotted something manmade about the phenomena. Tim jolted next to her violently, hands flailing over the steering wheel.

“Someone walk over your grave?”

“What?”

Stephanie put down the tablet and leaned over, staring at the white surrounding them. “Or did you see something?”

“You’d think I was crazy.”

“I’ve learned not to doubt gut instincts, Red Robin. They’re there for a reason. Especially yours.” Unable to spot anything but white, she looked back at him. Like her, his cowl was down, his nose red, skin very white. He looked frightened and instantly Stephanie became alarmed. “What is it? Did you see something?”

She whirled back around, hair falling around her shoulders and back. It really was too long at this point, but Tim reached up and tangled his fingers into it. Something to hold onto. He tried not to tug on her too hard.

“I just think someone’s watching us... me.”

“What? Who? Bad guy?”

“I think I’m seeing things.”

Stephanie hummed, slowly retreating into her seat.

“I’ll bop ‘em if they hurt you.”

Colour returned to Tim’s cheeks, and he smiled. “I know.”

The sound of roaring engines became audible over the car’s heating, and a little too close for comfort, the black Batmobile emerged, parking directly in front.

“Get in you two. I can’t drag the car with your tires gone. Lock it down, Red Robin. When the storm lessens, we’ll retrieve it.”

“Go ahead Batgirl. Locking it down will take a second.”

“’Kay.” She kicked her way out, fighting against the wind. Her cape, weighted so it wouldn’t fly up and around her face in such conditions, billowed out behind her, but her hair flew up and around her face. It made her stumble a little ungraciously as she felt her way around the car, opening the door enough to slide in the back.

“Jesus.” She breathed. Batman was looking over his shoulder, checking she was unharmed.

“I told you to cut your hair.”

“Yeah, yeah. I braided it but the wind…”

Bruce grunted. “We can’t do anything. We give it two more hours to show signs of passing. If not –”

“Call in the League?”

Batman’s face indicated he was not happy with the idea, but it was still the best solution. They were trained for street level crime, not climate change.

Tim tumbled in a moment later, shaking from the cold, slapping the ice and snow that had collected on his costume. Reaching across, Stephanie took off her gloves and placed her warm fingers on his cheeks, hissing at the cold. Tim sighed and closed his eyes, shivering.

“Where’s the others?” Stephanie asked, watching Tim’s shudders lessen as he warmed up again.

Bruce set off, heading back to Bristol.

“In the city tunnels. A lot of people are taking shelter there. They’ll be heading back now. We just have to wait it out for now.”

Stephanie did not miss the loathing in his tone at such an inaction.

“We can’t do anything for the time being.” Tim stated. “But when it passes –”

“If it passes.” Batman grumbled.

“–Then we’ll work overtime to help with recovery.”

Stephanie nodded emphatically in agreement.

“It’s not good enough.” Bruce muttered.

Stephanie went to remove her hands from Tim but to her shock he actually reached up and snatched her wrists, pulling her back. Damn, he really was cold. Usually he wasn’t that grabby.

“Sometimes ‘not good enough’ is all we can do.” Tim bit back.

Holding her breath, noting the tension in the car rising with the steady hot air being blasted, Stephanie pinched Tim’s nose, desperate to break the potential argument. Tim looked at her, a little outraged. Stephanie ignored him, speaking to Batman,

“Whoever did this – if it is a who – we’ll hold them to account.”

It really wasn’t good enough, and Bruce did not respond. The drive back was odd, Bruce relying on technology to navigate through the city. As soon as they cleared the bridge however, visibility resumed. It was a blizzard – a bad one – but nothing compared to what seemed to be only growing in intensity over the three main islands of Gotham.

When they arrived back at the cave, Stephanie asked Alfred to take a look at Tim, worried about his body temperature. She snuggled up to him, arms wrapped around his waist, cheek to cheek, as she tried to erase his shivering.

“Honey, why are you so cold? We weren’t exposed long.”

“Just feel cold. Like in my bones.”

She rubbed his back, trying to friction up some heat.

“Cuddle away then.”

“You’re like a furnace. It’s nice.” He sighed.

Alfred came over, took one look at Tim and shrugged off any major concern.

“Just a chill.” He confirmed after taking Tim’s temperature. “Take a warm – not hot – shower.”

“Sure Alfred.”

He went to walk off, hand around Stephanie’s, but she dug her feet in.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m gonna wait for the others to come back safe.”

Tim blinked, then looked down at his grip. She wasn’t showing it, but with a dropping sensation in his stomach, he realised how tightly he was squeezing her. Mechanically, finger by finger, he let go.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’ll be a little bit.”

She smiled, worry leaking through, and he dashed off. She flexed her wrist, hissing a little at its stiffness. Tim was just spooked by the weather, she told herself. Nothing more.

The others returned soon enough, following the city sewer systems back to the cave entrance. Tim eventually came back too, in warmer clothes, dry hair and a calmer disposition, and everyone sat by the computer, and waited.

*****

“How certain are you of this lead?” Tim asked three mornings later.

Bruce ran a hand across his face. It had been a long three days, Wayne Enterprises was going to be funding quite a number of building sites and repairs to basic utilities over the coming weeks, but for now, the weather had calmed enough for people to emerge from the lockdown. The streets were now filled with people enjoying the snow, to which Tim couldn’t blame them. There was something beautiful about freshly fallen snow and a horizon which blurred the line between sky and ground.

“Not very,” Bruce admitted, approaching the piano. “Hence why I’m only taking Robin with me.”

Damian’s little chest puffed out – proud to be the chosen one to accompany his father. Bruce looked at Stephanie, Tim, Duke and Cassandra as he spoke, deliberately holding their gaze to convey the importance he held their task.

“You four are remaining in Gotham. I’m trusting you to look after it until we get back. There shouldn’t be any major operations. The river is frozen, and many roads are blocked still with up to six feet of snow. But still, do what you can.”

“Be safe.” Cassandra urged.

Stephanie gave a tiny wave to Damian, who’s hand twitched to return the goodbye, but thought better of it, and he tutted and turned to follow.

Uncomfortable silence filled the house as the clock closed behind the two, leaving the four remaining members of the family stood awkwardly.

“Now what?” Steph asked, pushing back the heavy curtains to peer outside. “College is cancelled, no schools, no work… At least the snow has stopped. Should we monitor for problems or take a break… just for an afternoon.”

She looked back to smile at Duke, Cass and Tim, tilting her jaw outside. Cassandra clapped her hands in joy. “I saw on the tv people playing in the snow. I never have before.”

Duke gave an encouraging noise. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Snowball fight.”

Tim looked reluctant, until Stephanie elbowed him in the gut and agreed with Duke, saying, “Yeah. Sounds good. Need a bit of levity right now, huh?”

She raised her eyebrows, and Tim got the message.

“Oh! Yes. Sounds good!”

His tone was forcibly cheery, but he would warm up to the idea when actually outside, Stephanie thought.

Alfred, with the hearing of a bat, poked his head around a door frame. “Please wrap up warm, and shower when you are finished to bring your body temperature back up.”

“Can we have coco, Alfred?” Cassandra pled, eyes big as dinner plates.

“Yes, sounds a lovely idea. Try to get some joy from the terrible weather please, all of you.”

Cassandra burst off to get wrapped up, the other three trailing behind.

Stephanie laughed at Cassandra’s exuberance, trying to get her shoes on quicker. The Manor, built on the hill in the way it was, meant that the five feet of snowfall hadn’t reached the back door and steps. It did mean though, after some shoving by Cassandra, the door heaved open. She ran out, throwing herself down the stairs and onto a hug pile of freshly laid snow. She faceplanted with a shriek of joy, quickly creating snow angels. Stephanie trotted after her, calling,

“Cassie, have you ever made a snowman before?”

“No!”

“Me either. Help me?”

Tim watched for a little while as the girls – for a lack of a better term – frolicked in the white snow. Cassandra stood out more against the white, dressed from head to toe in black, Stephanie in that blinding white, purple and green jacket blended in a little more with the landscape. He was quite content to just sit on the salted steps and watch, but a solid smack to the back of his neck, snow and ice sneaking down his collar, made him squeal.

Duke laughed, “Bad form, dude! Gotta keep your eyes peeled!”

“Jesus!” Tim choked out, reflexively grabbing a pile of snow and flinging it back weakly. A snowball fight ensued.

Alfred watched the four from the kitchen window, more than a little delighted at the childish screams of joy that made their way across the Estate. At least some people were finding joy in such miserable weather. As an adult, snow only meant pain.

Transport difficulties, concerns about plumbing and electricity, would the roof cope? What if there’s flooding? Need to clear the sidewalks and drives and roads. Is there enough food to keep us going long enough for the storm to pass?

So many worries.

For children, it only meant wrapping up warmer, maybe missing a week of school, and games outside.

Never mind, let them enjoy it for a little while longer.

Alfred noted that flurries of snow had begun to fall, though immediately he could tell they snow was larger and slower falling than the other night. Still, the four had been outside for a couple of hours by this point, perhaps it was time for them to come in.

He moved away from the stove, turning off the heat on the milk, and making his way to the door to call them back in to warm up.

He managed to get the door open only to be met with a violent shriek from Tim, his body falling to the floor and curling up in a ball.

Instantly the frivolity stopped, and Stephanie burst across the snow. She wrapped around him, pushing his hand away from his eye. Cassandra and Duke hovered around, nervous and unsure.

“It wasn’t me.” Duke begged, “He was looking up, I didn’t throw anything at him.”

Stephanie cooed, trying to see the damage.

“What happened? Is it your eye? Did something get in your eye?”

“Get him inside so we can take a better look,” Alfred urged. “I worry the weather is only going to deteriorate.”

Alfred quickly put on the fire in one of the sitting areas and sat Tim down on the rug. He still had the heel of his palm pressed to his left eye socket. Cassandra and Duke continued to hover, nervous at the damage. Stephanie came through from the kitchen with a cold compact in case there was any swelling. She knelt in front of Tim.

“Can I see?”

Tim gave her a suspicious look, which she didn’t understand. Reaching him, she went to peel his hand away, and he flinched back. Her outreached hand froze in mid-air.

“Does it really hurt?” She asked. “Do we need to get to the hospital somehow?”

“No. I don’t want you touching me.”

She shook her head, reaching for him again. She tried to gently tease, “We can’t fix it if we can’t see what’s wrong. It’ll just take a second.”

Stephanie pushed back his hair from his forehead, as she always did to comfort him. She heard Cassandra gasp before she realised what happened, but Tim recoiled at the touch and – even worse – slapped her hand away from his face.

“I mean it. Don’t.”

It had been a while since he had directed such a sharp rebuke towards her. Her palm stung with the force he had smacked her with. Immediately, she entered a panic.

“You… Okay. I won’t. Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

His sneering look did not fade, and it made Stephanie get up off the floor. She passed the cold press to Alfred, who Tim, still looking supremely uncomfortable, allowed to examine the damage.

She left the room and the manor, sitting on the steps to try and calm down. Weird how one sharp word could make her feel like she was five years old again. The falling snow muffled the sounds of the Estate, and everything was eerily quiet, save the sound of her panicked breathing.

Immediately Cassandra came out and joined her, wrapping her up in a hug.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Stephanie whined.

“I know.”

Stephanie leaned down, forehead resting on Cassandra’s bony arms. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise to me. He’ll feel bad later, and you can talk it out.”

Stephanie nodded, knowing Cassandra was right. In the meantime, she flexed her hand, the one Tim had hit so sharply.

“He’s yelled at me before…”

“But never looked at you like that?”

“No.” Stephanie’s lip quivered. “I’m overthinking it.”

“You aren’t yourself when you’re in pain.”

Stephanie nodded fervently and frantically. “Right, right.”

They sat still for a while, listening to the silence. Then the door opened once more. It was Tim. Immediately Stephanie was on her feet. His eye looked fine, not even bloodshot or swollen.

“Are you okay?” She asked. He looked at her, suspicion gone but now a little bored and pouty.

“Fine. Listen, can we go home now?”

“Home?”

“To the apartment.” Tim shuffled in place, looking disgruntled. “I’d drive myself but Alfred won’t let me. My eye is fine.”

Confused, but deciding to not make a scene until they were alone, Stephanie nodded. “I’ll have to go slow. I don’t know how much of the roads have been cleared.

“Whatever.” He murmured, looking distracted.

Cassandra gave Stephanie a look which was a little unreadable. Stephanie gave her thanks to Alfred, and waved goodbye to Duke.

The drive back was painful in every possible way. Stephanie’s little purple car was sturdy, but she still went much slower than normal. Tim curled up in his seat next to her, head pressed to his knees. She could see that with one hand he was aggressively clawing at the centre of his chest, near his heart. Neither spoke for the duration of the drive.

When they got parked up, he slowly and stiffly got up and out. Stephanie grabbed her phone and messaged Duke that they had survived the journey.

She arrived in the apartment after Tim, finding him looking around the space with his lip curled. He didn’t look impressed with the place, as if it wasn’t his own home that he had decorated and lived in.

She sat her bag down by the door, and walked over to him.

“Sweetie, are you sure you’re okay? I hurt you earlier.”

“No. You didn’t.” He said, moving through to the kitchen. Whatever he was looking for wasn’t to be found, and he migrated upstairs to their bedroom. She followed, anxious about leaving him alone.

“Can I see your eye? I’d feel better taking a look myself.”

He sighed like she had asked the world of him and plopped himself at the foot of their bed.

“Hurry up, then.”

She approached him like she would a rabid dog, turning on the overhead light so she could properly see. Gently, she rested her fingertips on his cheek and brow bone.

Like he said, there was nothing amiss.

“What happened?” She breathed. “If nothing hurt you –”

“You’re really warm.” He interrupted. His disinterested look became hungry, and Stephanie dropped her hands, only for Tim to catch her wrists. His fingers were frozen, which should not have been the case after a car ride where the heating had been keeping them toasty. Stephanie felt a lump of ice form in her gut.

“Tim, stop it. What’s going on?”

“Cold.” He murmured. He squeezed her wrists tighter, tight enough to make her twist out of his grip in fear. Immediately he stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling into to her. Stephanie became stiff, listening to him licking his lips and mutter, “You’re warm. Hot. Need…”

Backing off just enough to look her in the eye, his expression twitched, and naked panic appeared for just a moment. Trying to maintain a poker face, Stephanie released herself from his grip, unnerved. Removed from her warmth his apathy returned, and the tenseness in his posture fled.

Confused, Stephanie massaged her wrists, and tried to buy herself some time.

“Go take a nap and warm up. Okay? Just… Just go take a nap.”

He smiled at her, but not warmly. It was mocking. “Yes, mother.”

The feeling of dread only rose and spread. She felt like there was a permanent clump in her throat. Finding there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t result in an argument, she just turned and left, leaving Tim’s sardonic smirk behind.

He had never made her uncomfortable before. Never. He had been angry with her. He had argued with her. He had yelled at her, belittled her, and once or twice in moments they never spoke about, he had been physically violent with her (the unspoken excuse was, both times, he didn’t actually know it was her… as if that made it acceptable). But never had she been made to feel unsafe. Tim was predictable in his moods. Whatever was going on frightened her. She shouldn’t have come back alone with him.

Maybe she could message Cass or Duke…they could get here in around an hour and…

While her mind raced, she resolved to make some comfort food for dinner. She opened the fridge, finding casserole beef that would be out of date in two days, an onion, a carrot, and three potatoes.

“Good enough.” She muttered and set to work.

Two hours later, as the stew continued to cook slowly in the oven and she was washing the dishes, Tim came downstairs quietly. He made his way over to Stephanie, finding it a little amusing how she tensed up when he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Stephanie managed to not gasp out loud when he pulled her long hair out of the way and pressed kisses to her neck, but she couldn’t help the involuntary goosebumps and risen fine hairs. He was frigid.

“How are you feeling?” Stephanie asked.

“Had a nap.” He rested his sharp chin on her shoulder. “I made you worry, didn’t I?”

She said nothing at his patronising tone, not sure what to say. Yes, and you still are. What the hell is wrong with you right now? But no, she was trying to be good and not respond and set off an argument.

“My eye’s fine.” He continued.

“That’s good.” She said, slowly leaning back so she could take off the rubber gloves. The moment she did, one of his hands snaked down to intertwine with her own. That did make her gasp, and flinch, but his grip on her waist tightened.

“What are you making?”

“Some stew to warm you up.” She replied, voice aggressively chipper.

Tim looked over to the oven, unimpressed.

“It stinks.”

Somehow that was the breaking point for Steph, who threw her arms back and moved away.

“What is your problem, huh?”

He looked back, almost gleeful. “You’re upset.”

“No shit I’m upset! Something’s wrong! You got something in your eye that made you fall to the ground in pain and now it’s nothing? You are physically cold as ice and you’re just being a pain and mean and childish and –”

“Childish. Childish?” He looked to the side as if he had a bright idea and moved away, back into the living room. “I thought you wanted that.”

“God, Tim, what are you blathering on abo—”

She cut herself off as he stood next to the windowsill with the flowers. It had been a couple of weeks since they had brought them home, and they were doing well, even with the general lack of sunlight. Tim stared at them like they were weeds, with nothing notable or pleasant about them, then he smiled maniacally.

With a carelessness comparable to a toddler throwing a tantrum, Tim pulled his red roses off the windowsill, the pot crashing and soil flying everywhere. Stephanie couldn’t help it, she screamed, stuck in place by the kitchen.

“Tim, no! No! Why would you… No don’t! Please don’t!”

His hand was hovering over her lilac flowers. His awful smile froze, then fell away, leaving an equally awful emptiness. His hand trembled, and his fingers instead stroked the petals. Stephanie twitched, half ready to body slam him if he threw her plant on the ground.

His hand fell away, and Stephanie – shamefully – began to cry. He had left her roses alone but wrecked his own.

“Why would you do that?”

He looked at her like she was stupid for not getting the joke. “They’re so ugly. And I thought it would be funny. Your face.”

“Funny?” She sniffed, eyesight blurry and nose running. She couldn’t bear how bored he sounded, how mean he was being.

“When you get all angry and hot.”

“Tim! You don’t do that to someone you care about!”

“Care about you? Do I?” He blinked, uncomprehending. He had gotten distracted again and was looking out the window at the snow.

She shrieked, feeling like she was talking to a brick wall or an uncaring five-year-old. She rushed over to his wrecked plant, trying to pack the soil together as best she could. Tim watched her for a moment, then kicked the spilt soil and plant. Stephanie flinched away, staring at the scattered dirt. Intentionally or not, he’d hit her hands that were trying to salvage the situation. It was such an unnecessarily spiteful and painful thing to do, that finally she’d had enough. Stephanie got up, and shoved Tim.

“Stop it.”

He didn’t look satisfied with her reaction anymore, and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“I want you to stop being so fucking cruel.”

It was like her words were literally going in one ear and out the other. It was like he wasn’t even talking to her, rather he was talking at her. Or he was talking to someone (something) else. “I’ll go then. I’ll go. I’m bored.”

She watched, mystified, as he put his shoes back on. He looked at her once and tilted his head like a confused dog, then moved back towards her. Still crying, she choked out,

“What are you –”

He kissed her, once, desperately. She flinched away, feeling violated for the first time in years. It seemed he was not happy with the kiss either. He looked off to the side, sucking on his tongue, musing the flavour. He shook his head once.

“No good.”

Stephanie stared, heartbroken. Tim just shrugged, like the entire thing was nothing more than a mild conversation about the weather. Grabbing her car keys. He opened the front door, giving a half-hearted farewell. And then he was gone. No coat, no gloves, no scarf. The snow flurries had picked up once more, as had the wind. He was going to very quickly freeze out in the open dressed like that. Even if he did have the car, getting stranded was a real possibility in the storm.

Hating him, but also petrified, Stephanie resolved to drag him back inside. She’d make him sit down, shove the stew she’d made down his stupid throat, then call Batman. She didn’t care what he and Robin were doing at the South Pole, something had gone very wrong back home.

Stephanie grabbed the apartment keys and grabbed her own shoes, running after him. The lights flickered, a power surge apparently occurring due to the storm, and she tripped over their pile of shoes at the front door and she tugged it open.

“You dick!” She screeched to the howling wind. No sign of Tim though, or her car. She jolted, confused at how he could have pulled out of sight that quickly. Already the tire tracks were covered in a fresh layer of snow. Her confusion quickly returned to anger.

Fuck him, she thought spitefully, slamming the door shut and going back inside. Getting back down to see what of his roses had survived his abuse. She cleared space in her own box, hoping that they would take in their temporary home.

She then went to call him, for once being the first to crack after an argument of theirs, only to realise before she clicked his face that his phone was still in his jacket that was hung on the rack.

He really had left the house with nothing on him but the clothes on his back.

She didn’t know what to do. She’d been an idiot during their time at the Manor and had left behind her suit, leaving her stuck inside with nothing warm or secure enough to go hunting for her purple car. As several hours passed, the more her anger made way for pure grief.

That wasn’t Tim. Never in a million years would he be that cruel. Angry yes, spiteful sometimes, but not callous. And he did care about her. She knew that for a fact. More than she believed almost anything else. Even when their relationship was at its worst, he had said, word for word, that he still loved her.

He wouldn’t make fun of her until she cried, he wouldn’t hit and kick her, he wouldn’t wreck a present that he knew was important to her, he wouldn’t be such a self-absorbed brat.

The wind screamed outside, and Stephanie blinked.

Freak storm. Tim’s adverse reaction. The pain in his eye and drastic mood swing.

The whole thing stank of something unnatural.

It was next to nothing to go off, but she had to try and see where that line of thought would lead. First things first though, she needed Tim to come home.

But he didn’t.

Panicking wouldn’t do any good. Tim could look after himself. Even in a storm like last night. Her little car was given to her by Bruce. It was as sturdy as a tank. He would be fine.

But still. Stephanie panicked and did not sleep that night. Instead she sat in the living room, drinking mug of tea after mug of tea, watching her roses and the snow blowing outside through the window. Occasionally she’d burst into tears, not sure what to do or what to say. She could brave the storm, maybe? But Tim didn’t have a key. What if he came home and couldn’t get in? What if he found a phone and called her, would she go to him then? What if, what if, what if?

Stephanie wondered briefly who people coped not knowing where their loved ones were before mobiles became extensions of their arms.

Maybe he’d just left Gotham, gone out of the city and away from the storm. It was minus twenty that night, again unbearably cold. Stephanie sat still, grief stricken, and waited for Tim to come home.

He never did.

Come the morning, she started her hunt, looking at the CCTV footage of Park Row and the neighbouring streets and businesses, but found nothing. The footage blinked, showing Tim exiting the apartment, then he and the car was gone, and it was Stephanie poking her head out to yell.

It was like he had shut the front door behind him and vanished. Or it would have been, if not for the fact that that blip of a power surge had happened at an awfully convenient time.

She messaged Cass and Duke, who confirmed that he did not return to the manor. A quiet enquiry to the Titans showed he had not made his way West either. The storm over Gotham that night was almost as bad as the first. He would have died if he did not find shelter.

The stink of the unnatural grew.

Her grief turned to panic, and two more awful days passed. The three of them took to frantic searching across the city, but a fresh layer snow made tracking her car difficult. Even worse, the GPS system installed by Bruce on her car (a safety precaution to now where she was at any given moment) wasn’t working. It hadn’t since Stephanie and Tim had arrived at the apartment.

Duke checked the different homes the Drake’s had owned just in case he had holed himself up there. The townhouse, the mansion in Bristol, but nothing. Cassandra and Stephanie had checked every safe house in Gotham, but no luck.

Duke wanted to inform Batman. Whatever lead Bruce was chasing, this was doubly important. One of his children had gone missing. Cassandra disputed Duke. Bruce had an entire city to worry about, adding Tim’s disappearance would not make him more urgent. If anything, it would make him sloppier. Nothing made Bruce more irrational than his family in danger. Let him tackle the issue with a clear head. The three of them in Gotham could find Tim.

But three days later, they hadn’t.

So Cassandra conceded, and the awful call to Bruce was made. Stephanie did not speak to him, but judging by Cass’ face after the conversation ended, it had not gone well. She relayed the information that his own search had been a dead end and would be home before the evening came round.

This served to make an anxious bubbling a permanent fixture in Stephanie’s gut. Surely if Bruce was coming home, the problem would be resolved?

A problem she had allowed to happen. Letting Tim just waltz out into a blizzard great job Steph.

No-one blamed Stephanie, though she certainly blamed herself. Tim’s roses were not taking to their shared space with Stephanie’s, and it felt like a miserable metaphor of how their relationship was seemingly incompatible.

What the actual hell had happened?

Staring at the roses, and hating herself a little, she decided to go speak to one of the few people in Gotham who maybe would have a clue about what was happening to the natural world.

Poison Ivy had a connection to the Green, whatever that was. It was a shot in the dark, but maybe Pamela would have heard something through the literal grapevine about what was causing the horrendous weather. From there, maybe Stephanie could chase a lead to Tim, and bring him home.

Alive. Preferably.

[welcometophu]

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 10

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 10

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Hey. I overheard some of your conversation the other day. We were all at the same table. Anyway. You said your dad is part of the Church?

Pels frowns at Ángel’s text, not sure how to take it. I guess that depends on what Church you’re talking about but yes, my stepfather’s one is very capital C about it.

I’m Catholic, Ángel replies.

Pels snorts. She sits cross-legged on her bed, her homework spread out across the mattress while she tries to work through it. Jennifer has music playing on the other side of the room, but it’s low enough that it doesn’t bother Pels at all. If Nikita were here, she’d be angry about it, Pels is sure of that. But Pels doesn’t mind a little bit of noise. Besides. She can almost hear the music from Pat and Jackson’s room from down the hall, too.

Peter’s not Catholic, Pels replies. I don’t even know what kind of Christian he is. We all just call it the Church. It’s very… old-fashioned.

Our parish back home is pretty good, but there are some people in the Catholic church that aren’t as open or accepting. Is your—Peter, is he okay with Talent?

Not really, no. He preaches against it all the time, Pels sends it, then adds, What about your priests?

I don’t think they care. I mean, our parish has a lot of Mages and Lince, and I always thought they were fine with it, that they knew God accepted us, whether Talented or not. Then I found out there was a small part of the Catholic church that called themselves something like the servants of the cross. I didn’t really go digging into it more than that once I figured out they weren’t my real problem at the time, but when I heard you talking about your—Peter. I thought of it.

Pels makes a face at her phone. Are you trying to tell me you’re worried about me?

Yes.

“That’s weirdly sweet,” Pels murmurs.

“Isn’t it?” Dad agrees. He picks up her papers, waves them until they crinkle. “Homework, Pels. You’re getting distracted, and you don’t have chaos to blame if your assignments go missing.”

No, but she could blame Dad, if anyone—well, anyone other than the few who do—knew he existed.

I’m okay, she promises Ángel. I know how to stay out of Peter’s way, and that’s part of why I came back early. But if you ever hear anything about your Catholic cross people breaking off to create a fundamentalist Christian sect that hates Talents… let me know, okay? I’d be curious to hear more about it.

I can do that.

Her phone goes silent, and she drops it on her pillow. After a moment, she reconsiders and shoves it under her pillow, just in case.

At the knock on the door, she gives up, piling her papers neatly and setting them off to the side. “Come in,” she calls out, as the music goes off and Jennifer turns to face the door.

“Hey,” TJ says. He smiles, but there’s no light in it, which seems strange. He stands in the doorway with it open, but doesn’t step into the room. “I just heard from Student Life, and I wanted to let you know what’s going on.”

He looks a little like he can’t decide whether to come in or run away, and when Dad pulls the door wide, TJ stumbles. Pels can’t remember ever seeing him caught flat-footed before. His cheeks go a warm rose flush, bright against his fair skin.

“Maybe you should sit down?” Pels suggests. Jennifer sinks back into her own chair, as TJ pulls out the chair from Nikita’s desk, turning it so he can sit and face them, creating a small triangle between them all.

“On Saturday, during an authorized Coven ritual, something appears to have gone… wrong.” TJ pauses between words, licking his lips as he picks through them. Pels’s stomach twists, and she makes a small noise. “No one’s dead,” he says quickly. “Just… missing.”

“Missing,” Jennifer says slowly. “How?”

TJ shakes his head. “I don’t know. Apparently Pawel was doing a ritual of some kind, and his son went next door with a friend. When his son came back, Pawel and the others were gone. That includes both Nikita and Alaric, along with a few others. Obviously it’s being looked into, but the person they would normally call is—”

“Professor Szczek,” Pels supplied.

“Pawel. Yes,” TJ confirms. “I’m sure Nikita and the others are safe. There’s absolutely no evidence at the house that anything’s wrong, and while Pawel’s son is worried, he seems calm. They said he’s not that surprised. I don’t know what that really means,” he admits. “It does mean that all activities that Pawel runs on campus—Coven and taekwondo—are canceled until he returns. And if you can think of anything Nikita might have said that would help the investigation, Student Life is collecting information for the investigation.”

Pels looks down at her papers as if they hold an answer, then slowly shakes her head. “We don’t really talk about things like that. And her and Jennifer—”

“We don’t talk. We yell,” Jennifer says dryly. “Which you already know. But you’re right, Nikita always had something going on, and she and Alaric were definitely involved in something major. I’d think Rory would be likely to know more about it.”

“He’s going to talk to a friend of his, if he can get in touch with her.” TJ rises carefully, the chair sliding under the weight of him leaning on it. “If something does come up, let me know. And if I hear anything, I’ll let you know, too.”

Missing.

TJ shutting the door seems like the period on that sentence, a moment of finality.

“I just thought she was with Heather,” Pels murmurs.

“She probably is still with Heather. Those two are glued together, aren’t they?” Jennifer points out. She starts to gather up her notebook, then pauses. “If Nikita’s not going to be back, I can probably cancel my study date and just work here. I was only going to the library so I could focus.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Pels blurts out. She can’t stop thinking about it. Missing. Disappeared. Just… not existing in this space anymore. She glances at Dad, and he spreads his hands.

“I don’t have answers for you,” Dad replies.

“What good are you,” she mutters.

Jennifer snorts. “Seriously? You’re angry at me because I’m not crying that Nikita hasn’t made it back from whatever magical shit she’s doing this time? You’re talking about our roommate who spins up catastrophic winter weather on a whim. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“What if she’s not?”

“There’s nothing you can do about this one,” Dad points out. “Pels, this isn’t something you can—”

She makes a frustrated noise at him and he thankfully shuts up.

“Pels.” Jennifer pulls her chair over, sitting with several feet between them. “I am not so cold that I hope something happened to Nikita. We don’t get along. That’s obvious. But she’s still a person and I don’t wish her ill. But at the same time, it’s kind of nice right now. Like a little mini vacation.”

“A mini vacation,” Pels says slowly. “I just.” She picks up her phone, then sets it down before she can text anyone. Who would she text? “There’s nothing we can do. I feel helpless. And there are a lot of times when I feel helpless, but this is worse than usual.”

“I’m guessing she’s going to come out of it just fine. She always does,” Jennifer says. “She’s one of those people who just brings chaos everywhere she goes without thinking about how it affects the people around her.”

“Her innate Talent is as a Weather Witch, not chaos.” Pels is pretty sure she knows the difference, although she might have to admit that Nikita feels more chaotic than Shane to her. Shane’s methodical. He’s careful, like he knows the rug might be pulled out from under him at any moment, whereas Nikita just keeps pushing through things, no matter the barrier.

“To me she feels like chaos,” Jennifer says bluntly. “And her particular kind of chaos is as loud as an orchestra to me.”

“That’s a new one,” Dad says.

“Yeah,” Pels replies. “I have not heard that analogy before.”

Jennifer sits upright, her chin lifted and back straight. “I am not mundane,” she says stiffly. “But my Talent isn’t particularly useful, either. Or at all. I hear sensations. It might be a form of synesthesia, but the specialists I’ve spoken to aren’t familiar with it at all.”

“Am I going to offend you if I say I have no idea what you’re talking about?” Pels isn’t used to Jennifer opening up and offering information, and she’s not sure if she should just listen, or offer something of her own in return.

“It’s—” Jennifer falters. “When she’s here, her Talent kicks up, and it’s like sandpaper on my skin, and I hear these discordant sounds rising up. She’s deafening. Every second around her is like chaos, and those winds whispering aren’t fun. I don’t like the way they feel or sound. It’s too much.”

Dad is standing by the door, far from where Jennifer sits. Pels glances between him and her. “I’m surprised I don’t bother you. I have my own weird brand of chaos.”

Jennifer laughs at that. “You’re incredibly peaceful, actually. You’re quiet. You sit there and do your work. You don’t try to touch me, and you don’t throw Talent around the room like you’re trying to blanket us in snow. You avoid people and nothing strange ever happens around you.”

Pels narrows her gaze. Is Jennifer just not seeing things?

“I don’t touch her either,” Dad says quietly. “Nikita, on the other hand, must touch her all the time, even without meaning to.”

In this case, having a Talent with a mind of its own—literally, not figuratively—might be a good thing. Rather than simply having a Talent that she can’t control, like Nikita.

“Anyway.” Jennifer turns her chair, leaving her back to Pels, and switches her music back on. “I’m worried. She’s human, and I hope she’s okay. But I just can’t—I can’t let her chaos get to me even when she’s not here. If there’s anything I can do to help out, I’ll do it. But right now, I’ve got an assignment due by midnight, and it’s actually peaceful in our room, so I’m going to get that done.”

“Why?” Pels wants to bite the word back as soon as she asks it. “Not why are you doing your homework—that’s obvious. There must be something good about your Talent.”

Jennifer hunches over her desk. “It’s not always unpleasant,” she admits. “Nikita’s grating, and I think that has a lot to do with her lack of control. Some soft things sound like a lullaby. Jello tastes like water sounds, which is strangely peaceful. I can tell where I am with my eyes closed, by how the air sounds on my skin. And if someone uses Talent to touch me, I always know. Talent is louder than anything else, and there’s a tone to it. It’s different for every person, and sometimes it changes with intent.”

“That sounds like a lot,” Pels says quietly.

“It is a lot.”

Pels looks to Dad, who is keeping his distance from Jennifer. “Well. I can promise that I will never touch you with my Talent, to the best of my ability,” she says solemnly.

Dad places a hand over his heart and nods his agreement.

“Thanks.” Jennifer waves a hand, and Pels feels a little like she’s been dismissed.

She’s not going to get her work done right now anyway; she’s not in the right frame of mind for it. She pushes past Dad to get out of the room, closing the door carefully behind her.

“That was a bonding moment,” Dad observes.

“Was it? Because a part of me feels like she told me to push me away and get me to stop bugging her about Nikita,” Pels says quietly.

“You could be right. But the point is, she trusted you enough to say it.” Dad leans against the wall when Pels raps on Rory’s door. After no answer, she knocks louder. Sharper. Dad catches her hand before she knock again.

“I don’t think he’s there.”

Pels pulls her hand from his. “He’s probably with Kit.” It only makes sense, since Carolyn was one of the people at that thing Professor Szczek did, along with Alaric. She’s not going to go chasing after him, but she does send a quick text to say, TJ let us know what’s going on. You okay?

She didn’t grab a jacket when she left the room, and while the weather’s improving as spring wears on, it’s not really warm enough to go anywhere without one. She gets as far as the stairs and hesitates there, glancing back to find her dad, half-expecting him to tell her what to do.

He’s not there.

It’s rare enough to be alone, and rarer still when there’s something going on. Apparently for once, Dad is out of opinions.

There’s a sudden shift in sound—raucous guitar cutting off and shifting into jangling circus music. Pels takes a slow step to the other half of the floor, hesitating before committing to the thought.

She shouldn’t.

But why not?

She lets her feet carry her to the slightly cracked door of Pat and Jackson’s room. She raises her hand to knock just as her phone buzzes. She wrangles it from her pocket just as Jackson pulls the door open and leans on it, staring down at her.

Not really, but we will be, Rory sent. It’s not like there’s much we can do about it now except wait for them to come back from wherever they’ve disappeared off to.

Pels shoves the phone back in her pocket, taking a step back to look up at Jackson. She can hear the game music in the background, where Pat and TJ both sit on the floor, controllers in hand. She hooks her thumbs in her pockets like this is totally normal and not weird at all. “I came over to lose,” she says.

“Eloquent,” Dad replies.

Because of course, now he’s back.

Pat raises one hand and waves without looking. “Hey, Pels. Come on in. Soon as I kick TJ’s ass, we’ll switch to four player mode.”

Pels blinks, because that’s new. She slips past Jackson, crouching down next to Pat. “More than two people can play?”

“You really don’t know anything about games, do you?” Jackson says, falling onto the bed behind them. “I thought Pat was exaggerating.”

“Wasn’t a thing in my house. I’m pretty sure as sins go, it’s worse than lying, but nowhere near as bad as being Talented,” Pels deadpans. “I know nothing. But….” She lets the word trail off, exhaling softly.

TJ glances over at her, and Pat takes advantage of the distraction to do something that sends one of the karts on screen spinning. TJ’s attention turns back to the game. “Oh, it’s on,” he says.

“He gets it,” Dad murmurs.

Yeah, Pels is pretty sure he does. She also assumes Pat and Jackson know what’s going on—maybe there will be a floor meeting about it, or maybe not. Sometimes it seems like the wilder something is, the more PHU just accepts it.

The game ends, and Pat nudges Pels with his elbow. She settles in on the floor next to him, while Jackson moves to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling where Pat can lean against him. TJ plugs in two more controllers and they get the game started.

Pels is going to lose, and that’s fine. They guys are loud, while she’s focused intently, leaning as she maneuvers, like she can somehow control her kart with her body. It allows her to let go and not think for the blissful minutes of the game.

As they ready for another round, Pels glances at Pat. She catalogs the heavy rings stretching his ear lobes, and the ink she can see along with other piercings. He’s everything she’s been protected from, and one of the nicest guys she’s met here. “Thanks,” she says quietly.

Pat flashes a quick grin. “Anything for a friend,” he says, rocking gently to knock into her shoulder.

There’s no more time to talk after that, as the game begins again amidst noise and chaos.

Yeah. This is just what Pels needed.

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[fandom-necromancer]

822. The rain is nice, isn’t it?

I know my prompted stories are prio 1 but I found this half-written in my work document and just found enough time to complete it. And one story is better than no story, right? ;)

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘You are being partnered up with a new guy fresh from the academy.’ ‘You are kidding me. Why not just fire me? Spares you the problem of dealing with a traumatised newcomer.’ ‘He is an android, Reed.’ ‘Great, so you won’t have to fire me, because the phcking thing will beat me to the hospital to never return to the job. Nice move.’ ‘Gavin! Could you stop with the racist bullshit for just one second? Just because you pissed off Connor enough doesn’t mean every android is out to get you.’ He stopped to await any comment, but Gavin kept his mouth shut firmly. In fact, he was wondering why his teeth hadn’t yet given in to the force he bit down on them. ‘As I said: Android. Will be your partner. He has newly deviated and has yet to decide on a career. We were chosen because his initial purpose would have been an investigator of some sort, not unlike Connor. And he could give him guidance, as he is in the same precinct.’ ‘Fine, fine, and what the hell is that supposed to mean for me?’, Gavin spat, begrudgingly accepting what fate had in store for him. ‘Be nice, Reed.’ ‘You gotta be phcking-‘ ‘Out of my office!’

In the end the tin-can wasn’t that bad. In fact, not much had changed to what it had been before: Gavin worked alone, sat hunched over his desk emptying mugs of coffee and being a general asshole to whoever dared to talk to him. The toaster sat opposite to him, working diligently on his tasks, completing reports Gavin had left unfinished during a smoke break and always sending in a complete transcript of any crime scene they came back from or of any witness interview they might have pursued. It was an effective working arrangement Gavin had never experienced in his life forced to get along with nosy idiots and too big egos. The major reason for them being able to work together so well was that the android never spoke.

In a whole of three weeks now not a single word had passed these lips. Even with Connor, he did that weird android-connection-thingy and went on with it. At this point, Gavin asked himself whether the thing could talk at all. But his curiosity never went so far as to actually pick up a conversation with it. He cherished the silence too much to break it. Especially if that android hadn’t decided yet to stay.

The fourth week started with a coffee magically appearing on his desk. He had just arrived at work and the toaster was already working – maybe still working? Gavin didn’t care. He looked around for whoever had placed the cup there. Was this a prank? Someone pouring salt in it just waiting for him to drink it? He picked it up curiously, before even starting his computer. It was still warm, hot even. Freshly made. He sniffed at it but couldn’t find anything wrong. The last careful sip cleared his suspicion then: It was just a regular coffee, black with sugar, just how he liked it. Had to be Tina. She was the only one knowing how he took his coffee. Now to what she had done wrong for her to make sure he was in a good mood…

He couldn’t find anything, and Tina denied having ever prepared him coffee. But fair enough the next day there was another perfectly made cup on his desk. Also, whenever he had gone for a cigarette pause or on the toilet there was always another one there. He swore he was going crazy. Who the hell would do that? For what reason? But after another week it was just another thing that happened. Magically appearing coffees weren’t something bad after all.

‘Reed!’ Gavin flinched at the sudden shout. ‘Reed, you fucking asshole did you really just tell a witness to go fuck themselves? I can’t-‘ Gavin had turned around towards Hank, who was suddenly interrupted by his ringing phone. ‘Hank Anderson? Yeah- yeah- what? No! Of course, I do! No, now listen!’ He shot Gavin an angry look before turning and walking away talking on his phone. Well, that was weird.

‘Hey, Reed, have you seen these…’ Gavin looked up to Chris, who frowned at his vibrating phone the exact same moment, then shrugged. ‘Thanks, T’, he called into the bullpen, then walked off to his desk. Gavin locked eyes with Tina, who just stared at him with the same clueless expression. Gavin shook his head and turned back to his work.

‘Hey, Gavin I need these-‘ The third person to try and talk to him that day was interrupted by loud music from a Youtube-video playing on his work PC. ‘Ah shit!’ With that he was gone, and Gavin sat there again completely oblivious to what was going on.

Finally, he had enough and jumped from his chair. ‘What kind of damn game are you all playing, huh?’ He was met by clueless, even startled faces. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice this shit! What the hell is going on?’ More silence followed as no one seemed to have a clue what he meant. ‘Fine. Fine! I need a phcking break!’

He stomped off to the breakroom just to cool down a bit. More coffee wouldn’t be good for him, as he had his steady supply prepared by whatever idiot played that elaborate prank on him. He absent-mindedly noticed Connor walking over to the new android and talking to him. But it just offered his hand in return, like always. God, he needed a goddamn break from this. From all of this! He grabbed his package of cigarettes from his desk and marched outside to get some fresh air.

He took a deep breath of cold air and sighed. Why was today such a weird day? It had all been fine not so long ago. He stared into the light rain outside the front porch, cigarette in hand, unlit. He couldn’t bring himself to getting the lighter.

Behind him the door opened, and Gavin tensed again. Couldn’t he be left alone for two minutes? He turned to look at the calm blue circle of the new android’s LED. ‘What do you want, toaster?’, He sighed ready to end this phcking day. ‘Ah, forgot, you don’t speak, right. How silly of me!’

He turned back, flicking his lighter a few times to produce a tiny flame that was blown out by the wind as soon as he had it near enough to the cigarette. Frustrated he pushed lighter and cigarette back into his pocket. Fine. No smoking then.

He watched the android step out from underneath the roof to stretch out one hand into the rain and smile as the first drops gathered on the white chassis. If freaked Gavin out again and again seeing androids without their skin.

‘The rain is nice, isn’t it?’

Gavin stared at the android and for once couldn’t hide his open surprise. ‘S-So you do speak!’ ‘Yes’, the android answered. ‘But I don’t like it. Too many possibilities to hurt unintentionally.’ He let his arm sink again, watching the water drop to the ground. ‘You never talked. I like that. I thought I could repay you by direct the others away from you.’ ‘Heh, pretty shitty having Connor as a guardian then’, Gavin commented without intonation. ‘I agree. He is rather… Noise based’, the android nodded. Gavin laughed at that and met the confused eyes of the machine. The Detective just continued to chuckle and slapped his arm: ‘Hey, maybe we have more in common than I initially thought. Come on. Let’s get back in. Gavin’s the name.’ ‘Nines.’

[iainwrites]

Having finished The Last of Us 2 (Spoilers Beyond):

I enjoyed it.  I’m not going to mark it as “Game of the Decade” or “Best Thing Ever!” but I felt it succeeded as a good sequel that improved on what was introduced in the first game (graphics, gameplay, story, etc).  Did everything make me happy?  Nope.  I don’t find many things to be “perfect.”  Where do things fall in the like/dislike matrix?

Like:

-It’s pretty.  It’s incredibly pretty.  It’s “I’m stopping in the middle of a city reclaimed by nature, and panning the camera around because sweet merciful goodness, this is incredible.

*** I had one very buggy moment (Abby and Lev making their way through the Infected filled hotel) where I grabbed some resource, and Abby started half t-posing.  It never affected gameplay, but it was really annoying.  I made it far enough that I knew there would be a checkpoint without any backtracking required, then I reset things.  That was the one and only graphical issue that I encountered.

-The gameplay was smooth.  There’d be the occasional “Mash the Square!” moment where it felt like it didn’t register ever input, but that might have been a product of an older remote.  But running, gunning and stealthing is something that Naughty Dog has turned into a science and art form.  This is their “Thing” and they show it off very well.  The guns feel appropriate to what they are (A shotgun will kick back and throw your aim, while a pistol is a little easier to keep trained.  Never went so far as to see if Ellie’s arm would tire if she held the bow-string back for a long time, but that inclusion wouldn’t surprise me).

-The support the NPC’s played.  There would be moments where I’d be trying to figure out the next threat to deal with, when Lev or Dina would come around a corner to help whittle down my choices.  This was smart AI that never gave a feeling of “Oh, they’re just adding more atmosphere with bullet noises.”  Yes, there were moments where I’d turn around to leave the room and a body would be standing in the doorway, but those were outweighed by the times they were helpful.

-The story (with an asterisk).  This is a revenge story in parallel, where the “hero” and “villain” are determined mainly by your perspective in things.  And it keeps asking questions that can polarize opinions.  Were either Abby or Ellie in the right for their actions (yes and no, again depending on your perspective)?  Should you forgive?  How far is too far?  Is it an eye for an eye, or until the threat is eliminated?  When are you done?  Are you willing to risk your happily ever after?  If someone is hellbent on a mission that will likely kill them, is it right for you to say “I can’t do this?”

*** But I felt is was too long.  I replayed the first game as prep and cruised through in about 8-10 hours (it was on a NG+, so I was a little overpowered, but I’m still a collectable hound.)  My playthrough on this probably clocked in at around 30 hours.  The Jackson/Ellie in Seattle part was good.  I thought Abby’s Seattle story was smart.  But it just keep running.  It could have ended with the Farmhouse epilogue (either in the farm, after Tommy’s visit, when Ellie left).  It could have ended with “Abby from Santa Barbara.”  Yes, any of those point would have left it feeling unresolved, but really, the released ending feels unresolved, doesn’t it?  Abby and Lev are in the wind, Ellie is walking away to who knows where, Dina and JJ are who knows where.

-This game is violent.  Major warning for anyone thinking of playing it but have issues with blood, violence, destruction, mental and emotional abuse, etc.  I covered my eyes at some sections.  I don’t know if “appropriately violent” is the right way to describe it, but for the world it exists in, it all seems accurate for what the lives depicted would experience.

-The characters (with an small asterisk).  I really don’t know how to write this part.  I’m a white male being put in the digital perspective of a gay women or a muscular woman, with a supporting cast of trans men, bisexual women and Asian men.  There’s no way for me to say “They did that really well!” because I have no perspective on what it means to live those lives.  The thought I keep coming back to about this cast is “They seem like actual people.”  I believed Ellie could be a person, that Abby could exist, that Lev, Dina, Jesse could be met in life and not feel like a heap of stereotypes or fake-ness.  But I know that people had legitimate concerns, grievances and issues with how some of these characters were handled (having a problem with Abby because she’s jacked?  Not a legitimate concern.)  I can only talk for myself and what I experienced here.  My representation was through Owen (and boy, did I misjudge him.  I thought he was going to be the quiet monster and he turned out to be a bit of a nice bro.), Tommy and Joel.  And the reason I saw my representation was because of gender and skin color, not of life events, morals, etc.  This is going on a lot longer than I planned, so it sums up to “I liked the characters and don’t want to shit on them because of things like their gender identities, sexuality, body shape, whatever.”

*** Ellie occasionally having a much deeper/rougher voice was strange at times.  I don’t know if there was a story-given reason why it’d show up and disappear or if it was an acting choice by Ashley.  But that’s such a minor grump, it’s hardly worth paying attention to.

-This is just me, but I liked the trophy choices.  There wasn’t anything like “Score a headshot from a mile away while considering bullet drop and air currents.”  But your basic “Find all the X” is my kind of thing.  And not even vague spoiling the plot through trophy descriptions was nice.  No “Final Goodbyes.”  No “And Your Little Dog Too.”  Even the “Complete the story” trophy (I Did What I Had To Do) was a nice touch: doesn’t give anything away and leaves the player wondering right up to the end.

-I think the name “The Rat King” is kind of blah.  I just call that fucker Legion.  Sure it’s tropey, but is it ever accurate.

I still have the NG+ run to do (for all collectable/modification/skill trophies), and then I can put the game away until the next time.  Like I said at the top: I liked it even though I don’t think it’s the greatest game ever.  It’s a solid follow-up that moves the right pieces along, even if it felt like it didn’t know when to stop at the end.  It’s pretty, but holy hell is it violent.  It won’t be for everyone (and has proved this, with some very polarizing opinions), but if you liked the first and have been wondering whether to play, I’d say give it a try.  It’s not a “go buy right now!” recommendation, but if you see it 30% off or more, you’d get your money’s worth.

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

Arma mulieremque cano.

I've been in a mood for heavy angst, so keep that in mind. Reader discretion is advised here. This was inspired by a two-page doujin my good friend Azure linked in our Discord server. I got intoigued, then got in a mood to make people suffer, and boom! this was born. hell yeah. Also my deathfics are shorter than my usual stuff, so I guess my heavy angst is to be consumed in a concentrated form? It felt weird to write and feels weird to backread, so I'm posting it now for the sake of gaining experience and showing a more daring side of my writing.

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An Oath is an Oath

Summary: ...so you should know better than swear two that contradict each other, especially during a war.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Post-Timeskip) Ship: Ingrid/Sylvain (implied)

Wordcount: 1.5K words

Content Warnings: Depictions of violence, major character death

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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I’ll never lose someone again, Ingrid had promised herself when she had gotten over most of her grief. I won’t let anyone kill someone dear to me ever again. I’ll stop them before they can.

Back then, she hadn’t had the powers to stop Glenn from meeting his undeserved demise. Years later, she had that power she had once lacked, hands strong enough to act on her will. She wouldn’t let herself taste powerlessness again she thought and swore, not now that she had become the warrior she wanted herself to turn into as she’d grow up.

 But war is war. It tears people apart with no mercy, disregarding affections and feelings, until soldiers fighting for their life and their nation’s honour had their minds numbed and hearts changed into stone, having become soulless killing machines. No matter how many fairy tales of brave knights saving whom and what they loved she read and inserted herself into, it couldn’t change war into anything prettier than men and women killing each other for a greater cause.

And, no matter how much she tried to be the ideal warrior she had imagined Glenn to have been when he was still alive, Ingrid couldn’t deny the horrors of it as, firmly armed with her lance, she faced a very familiar face, wearing different colours and branding a different animal, the dreadful realization making itself known too quickly for her brain to even attempt ignoring.

 She’d have to break her promise with her own two hands.

 A bittersweet long time no see, huh graced her as she arrived to face the next unit in the war. She almost went mute as she realized she’d be fighting one of the people closest to her right at this instant; but she shook her head and made his smirk disappear.

“This is war,” she replied, “and you know what this means, don’t you?”

“Oh, I sure do.” His expression put on a coat of seriousness unlike anything she had quite seen from him. “I’m afraid this will be the last time we see each other.”

The pressure on his axe strengthened.

“I wish it wouldn’t have ended this way, Ingrid. We were friends.”

“I could say the same of you, Sylvain. I’m disappointed by the choices you’ve made in this conflict, yet wish we’d have fought for the same cause.”

“When haven’t I disappointed you anyway, huh?” He scoffed. “That was yesterday, though, and today is something else. We’re not friends anymore, are we? To say that I’ve missed you…”

His chit-chat was annoying to hear, nagging at her loyalty and sense of morale. He had always tried to escape inconvenient situations with not-so-beautiful words and purple prose she had only seen through.

“We’re merely soldiers fighting on different sides, now. Shall we begin? I don’t want to lose more time speaking to the enemy.”

 The harsh tone in her voice sounded fake to her but seemed to have sounded convincing to him, as she could theorize from the way he rose his axe at her. She could read conflict on his face too, the dilemma neither of them wanted to face, yet had to in order to make their side win. That was war, after all, and they were only the tiniest part of it.

Ingrid’s heart wanted to fight against her lance and the way her wrist moved itself in swift moves to brandish her weapon of choice against the face of a man that, five years ago, she’d have protected from himself; but her mind was stronger, it had always been, and her mind was loyal to King Dimitri and the Blue Lions. Not her fault if Sylvain thought the grass was greener elsewhere.

Not her fault, not her fault if he was dumb, not her fault if he wasn’t loyal, not her fault if he was running after Goddess-knew-what, not her fault if he was going to die by her hands.

 That was war and she couldn’t do anything about it, that was how things were and had always been; yet her eyes still squeezed shut as she made her mount delve down in his direction, white feathers blowing in the wind, her lance’s tip heading down, metal shining against the light of the sun, fingers trembling, hands clammy, eyes wet and will wavering with the wind blowing through her hair.

Forgive me, Goddess.

Her lance plunged with her horse.

Forgive me, Glenn.

A noise of flesh rupturing, of metal meeting metal, of hooves crushing the dirt and the leaves.

Forgive me, Sylvain.

 She had to feel something warm splatter over her face and gliding down her armour to open them again, to dare face her deeds, face the feelings she hadn’t wanted to cultivate and scythe away without harvesting any fruit like you’d pick up rotting apples on the ground of the perishing acre.

I beg of you, please forgive me.

 Her lance had slipped through a hole in his own armour, drippling in red as she got it out of his body, blood painting the grass behind them. He fell from his wyvern, who escaped the field as its knight had disappeared from its back, black wings vanishing away from her sight and under the sun.

Even as her fellow warriors pursued the fight, their cries echoing in the distance, she instructed her mount to land, getting down of it in a rush and kneeling next to whom had been more than just a foe to vanquish in a war that had almost numbed her sense of empathy, steel boots clinking against the ground, red and green printing onto it and dirtying its shine.

 Without thinking more than a moment about it, Ingrid picked Sylvain in her arms, a quick glance examining the wound: right in the lung, most likely in-between the ribs, a fatal wound if left untreated properly. But she was no healer, no ally of him, merely a former friend who had had to kill her enemy in battle if she wanted to win and keep her life. It was expected of her not to do anything about it, to just let the course of things be, so why was she so reluctant to watch this, to do this?

There was nothing she could about it, so why was she on the verge of crying, of weeping like the young girl who had never had to kill someone with her two hands? Was her heart still this tender, this naïve? What had made her so sensitive, so emotional over doing what she had done countless times by now, in the span of five years? Was it the memories of their playing time, the bond they had previously shared, the promise she had made under the stars on one calm but sorrowful night?

 “Should’ve seen it comin’…” He coughed out, blood dripping down from his mouth, lungs congesting. “You’ve always been better at fighting than me…”

“I trained while you were busy skirt-chasing,” she replied, calmly, trying to keep it together. It’d be a disgrace to her king and comrades if she started bawling in the middle of the battlefield for the fallen enemy.

“Still… I’m almost glad it’s you who killed me… At least, you were a worthy opponent…”

“I could say the same about you, I suppose.”

He tried to laugh, but all that came from it was red almost splashing on her.

“I’ll finally stop causing you problems,” he finally said, eyes closing on themselves. “That’s a good thing, no…?”

 Ingrid didn’t reply, her mind unable to come out with anything satisfactory. Teasing the enemy seemed fine, until she remembered that, in death, allies and enemies barely made sense. Her sense of allegiance had left the premise for a moment, the notion of picking a side suddenly stopping to beat with her heart.

He seemed to notice her lack of reply with this smirk giving stead to a serious expression.

“Y’know, Ingrid… Even like that… I don’t hate you...”

 There was no right answer to give him, obviously, as words were already an act of treason to her cause. Honour before feelings and all that. Proverbs stopped making sense, but she was still following their principles anyway.

“In the end, I realize that… neither do I.”

“Good… ’d’ve been a shame if you did…” His lips reached an all-time low. “It’s all messed up anyway… World’s mess’d up…”

His eyes shut never to open again, his warmth already slipping between his armour’s holes, pouring from his wound, joining the sky above.

“See ya on the other side, Ing… ’t was nice knowing you, even if it ended like that…”

“Farewell, Sylvain.”

 I’m sorry; so, so sorry. I couldn’t keep my word.

 In this battle of a name that escaped from her memory, sorrowful Ingrid had broken the promise she had made to herself as she cradled next to her sob-rattled chest the still-warm, smirking, lifeless body of her dearest friend, knowing the battle would rage on with or without her, with or without him. As she resolved herself to either let what was left behind there or bury the remains, one question came to her mind, burning her tongue, scorching her throat, singing her chest from the inside:

When had she become a gravedigger?