#even know he could CARRY A SHIELD. he was in my party the WHOLE TIME

[stellunars]

protip for all my gale enjoyers: gale, as a human, is proficient with light armor and shields. yes, you read that correctly: your favorite wizard can, in fact, have a boost to his AC that doesn't require a spell slot or affect his ability to cast spells. you're welcome

[literaryavenger]

Happy Birthday

Summary: It's your birthday and the only person who doesn't seem to be excited about it is you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Angst. Fluff. Language probably. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This story was completely self-indulgent, but I hope someone out there likes it!

Masterlist

You’ve always been very reluctant to celebrate your birthday.

You haven’t had a birthday party since you were 12. The following year your mom died a couple of days before and neither you nor your family were in the mood to celebrate anything.

It wasn’t by any means unexpected, she had been sick for a few years, but it still hit you hard.

You were the youngest and were far too young when she first got sick to really understand everything going on.

You were 8 and all you really remember is watching your mom get more and more sick until eventually there was nothing more the doctors could do.

Her death hit you hard and you closed yourself off, never talking about it or even crying after the day of her funeral. To this day you’ve still never cried, in front of others or even by yourself.

You started exercising to channel all your energy, refusing to do anything more like the therapy your family suggested. 

When you were 15 you discovered SHIELD and decided you wanted to help others, so you signed up for the SHIELD Academy, working your hardest and pushing yourself to your very limit.

You ended up being not only the youngest cadet ever, but the youngest to actually graduate and then the youngest recruit at SHIELD at only 16 years old.

Natasha was very impressed when she heard about you and took a liking to you, convincing Fury to make you part of her team during her missions and teaching you everything she knows.

That’s how you ended up in the Avengers Initiative, not that you felt you didn’t deserve it since you know how hard you worked and everything you gave up to work towards this achievement. 

The team themselves were initially skeptical since you were barely 18 during the battle of New York, but they were quickly proven wrong when they saw how well you handled yourself against the Chitauri. 

You were devastated when SHIELD fell, but carried on as an Avenger, battling Ultron and then moving to the Compound with the team.

You met the actual Bucky for the first time when you were 22, during the whole Civil War thing with Baron Zemo. Like Natasha, you were on Tony’s team, fighting mostly Pietro, but the conflict eventually ended. 

It took Tony some time to get over the whole “Bucky killing his parents while brainwashed” thing, but, as he likes to say, he can’t call himself a genius without admitting that Bucky didn’t have much of a choice. 

Thanks to Tony’s help Shuri was able to find a solution to Bucky’s brainwashing faster than she would’ve alone, meaning Bucky didn’t have to go back into cryo and was pretty quickly cleared to join the team, about a year after the airport battle in Leipzig.

You were warmly accepted by everybody and, the more the team grew the more you felt at home with these people.

And now you wish you could burn down the whole compound because, somehow, Tony convinced you to have a birthday party for the first time in 13 years because, in his words, 'you only turn 25 once'.

Good news is you managed to make him limit the guest list to the team and other people close to you like Maria Hill and Fury. Bad news is you’re still gonna be the center of attention, which you hate.

You couldn’t stop Tony from making everyone dress up for the party, and you couldn’t stop the team from getting you gifts even though you insisted all you wanted was everyone together and to have fun with them since for the longest time nobody ever even knew when your birthday was. 

What you didn’t realize was that the only person more worried than you about your gifts was Bucky.

Since he joined the team the two of you have gotten close, starting with his first training with the team where he very loudly told Steve about his disbelief that someone as young and small as you could actually be an asset to the team.

You quickly put him in his place by taking him down after less than two minutes of sparring, taking full advantage of his underestimating you because he “didn’t want to hurt a pretty little thing like you.”

Admittedly he was impressed and wasn’t shy about letting you know that, while the rest of the team snickered at his initial shock when you pinned him down.

You became friends after that, not as close as you’d like but friends nonetheless.

If you were honest with yourself you’ve been harboring a little crush on the supersoldier, but he’s never shown any interest so you resigned yourself to just being his friend.

Something that you did come to treasure, though, is your and Bucky’s late night talks.

It started with you walking in on him in the kitchen on a late night where you couldn’t sleep, nothing new to you, but the two of you barely talked other than acknowledging each other.

You took a bottle of water and left.

A couple of days later you ran into him again and you stood there in silence while you made yourself a cup of tea and then left for your room.

A few days later again he was just sitting there and said nothing as you made your tea, except this time you put a cup in front of him and silently took a seat next to him at the counter.

Two nights later when you arrived at the kitchen he was already there with a cup of tea in front of him and one in front of the seat next to him.

You didn’t want to assume it was for you, but you took a chance when you noticed it was the cup you always used, a blue mug with Stitch on it that says “Let’s get weird”. Your favorite in fact.

You hesitantly sat down next to him and, without you having to ask or without even looking at you, he told you that the nights you stay up late because you can’t sleep you tend to be more quiet during the team dinners and while you hang out afterwards.

You didn’t say anything in return and just sat there, trying not to overthink how much he seemed to watch you.

But the more nights you spent like that, the more you two talked and you gathered quickly that Bucky is a very observant person, nothing more.

You loved the time you spent together after dark where you’d talk about everything and anything, but come morning it was almost as if it never happened, which you came to accept.

It weirdly made the nights you spent talking even more special, which was almost every night.

But back to the present, you’re currently getting ready with Natasha and Wanda, who know much more than you about hair and makeup and are always happy to help you out with getting ready for Stark parties. 

You put on the black cocktail dress with rhinestones all over the corset and a slit down the left side, then the three of you make your way to the party room and you take a deep breath before entering.

Everyone is already there, all dressed up in fancy clothes as they all shout “Happy Birthday”.

You laugh and say hi to everybody while they all take turns hugging you, there’s not too many people but everyone important to you is there.

Even Laura and Clint’s kids are there, which you consider a second family at this point, since Laura always did treat you like a daughter.

You hate to admit that it's a nice party.

Knowing you, everyone makes an effort to not put you too much at the center of attention and you just go around talking to your friends like every other party.

Eventually time comes for the cake and, the moment you kind of dreaded, opening the gifts.

Since it's the first birthday you allowed the team to celebrate everyone decided to go all in for your gifts, which you picked up on from the very first gift you open.

Pietro got you a first edition of “The Picture Of Dorian Gray” which is your all time favorite book, Wanda and Maria got you a leather jacket and an amazing pair of boots that you knew were expensive because you were all out shopping together when you came across them.

Steve got you a gold heart-shaped locker with a picture of the team inside it, Natasha got you a charm bracelet with a little charm to represent everyone on the team, and Sam got you a cute necklace with your birth stone on it.

When you open Fury’s gift you start laughing since it's a gun, a SIG SAUER P226 to be precise, which is very Fury.

“It was my first gun when I joined SHIELD.” He says with a smile and you smile back, knowing how much thought he put into this gift.

You open Clint’s gift next, a bow and arrow that he already taught you how to use, and Laura got you a pair of diamond earrings.

Your heart melts when you open Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel’s gifts, respectively a friendship bracelet, an Avengers action figure of yourself and a Stitch plushie.

The three of them hug you tightly as you say thank you and now you only have two gifts left, Tony’s and Bucky’s, and they’re both little boxes. 

You open Tony’s next, thinking it’s some fancy necklace or earring but you frown when you see a car key.

“Is this the key to your car?” you ask Tony, knowing full well you’re holding the key to an Audi R8 Spyder, the car Tony’s let you borrow so many times you’re now wondering if he’s gifting you his spare set of keys.

“No.” He says casually “It’s the key to your car.”

You’re even more confused and simply stare at him with your mouth gaped, not really processing the information.

“Y-you… You got me a car?!” You almost yell out of shock and everyone else starts laughing at your antics when you start basically jumping up and down and hugging Tony, squealing like a little girl.

“Well, come on, let’s go see it!” Tony says enthusiastically after you’ve calmed down, and you get up, just as enthusiastic, but are stopped by Steve’s voice.

“Wait, wait. You have one gift left.” He says, picking up the small box and giving it to you. “It’s from Bucky.”

You were so pumped up by the car, you almost forgot about it and completely miss the mischievous look Steve gives Bucky and the murderous glare Bucky gives back.

You also miss Bucky starting to protest before you open his gift, but he instantly shuts up when he sees your face falling the second you open it.

It’s a small necklace with a blue rose in it, it really looks like something you’d give a little girl more than a 25 year old woman.

You look at it for a minute, running your finger on it before you raise your head and look at Bucky.

The whole room goes silent as they all watch you worriedly, everyone noticing immediately that tears are streaming down your face.

Nobody understands what’s happening and nobody knows how to react or what to do, it’s like they’re all frozen by the sight of you being vulnerable for the first time ever. 

Meanwhile Bucky’s heart is beating so loud he’s sure everyone around him can hear it, and he feels himself starting to panic at the thought of having ruined your birthday with that stupid gift.

Everybody else got you expensive gifts and all he did was get you a small, cheap necklace that reminded him of a story you briefly talked about once on one of your late night talks about a necklace you had as a kid.

He saw it at the mall while looking for a gift for you, remembering the sweet smile you had on your face when you mentioned it and the fleeting sad look he thought he saw when you told him you lost it when you were 12.

He was really proud of himself for that gift, but the more he saw the other gifts you got the more he regretted his choice, especially after Tony gave you a fucking car.

And now you were crying, not saying anything while just looking at him.

He doesn’t know what to expect from you at the moment, nobody does, he thinks you might yell, throw his gift back at him, tell him how much you hate it and him.

But you surprise everyone by throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him tightly while crying into his shoulder.

You honestly forgot telling Bucky about that story and certainly didn’t expect him to remember it, especially since you always got the feeling that he didn’t care about your talks as much as you.

You just assumed that come morning he deleted everything you told him to make room for more important things, and you didn’t blame him.

But he didn’t.

What you didn’t tell him about the necklace is that your mom gave it to you because blue roses were her favorite, you had that necklace since you were born but you somehow lost it the day of her funeral.

That day you lost the two most important things in your life and cried yourself to sleep, and that was the last time you allowed yourself to be weak and cry.

Until today.

Bucky hesitantly wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back hoping to get you to calm down. He looks around at the rest of the team, panicking a little and not knowing what to do.

Everyone else is as clueless as he is, never having seen you in such a state before.

Bucky starts apologizing, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying, and he feels horrible that it’s because of him.

You shake your head quickly and pull away a little to look at him, wanting to reassure him you’re not sad or angry but incredibly happy, but words refuse to come. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and finally manage to speak.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” It’s quiet, but it’s something, and it’s enough to make Bucky let out a breath of relief at knowing you don’t hate him or his gift.

He brings you back in for another tight hug, almost forgetting about everyone else in the room as you hug him back without hesitation.

You’re honestly not even embarrassed at crying, all you care about at the moment is Bucky, his arms around you while he lets you bury your face in his neck, like you’ve been wanting to do for years now.

“Happy birthday, doll.” He whispers in your ear and, for the first time in 13 years, you really feel like it is.

[princessbrunette]

okay so hi! i wanted to send in a lil jj and rafe prompt myself for the kook princess.

so i lowkey think that she gets tired of the beefing one day and she’s just all upset because she doesn’t know what to do or who to chose in this whole situation, so she just pulls a “if i can’t have you both i don’t want either of you” which was hard enough for her to do anyway because let’s be so real standing on business with RAFE & JJ is hell in itself. so she like really stands on business doesn’t come around either of them avoiding parties the whole nine until she ends up needing to go to midsommars or something kinda much like kie in season one her parents are making her go, so word gets around fast that she’s going because people haven’t seen her in a while and jj leaps on the opportunity to work with pope & heyward, so he can see her and obviously rafe is gonna be there regardless. she doesn’t come until late which gave rafe and jj enough time to at least come to a certain level of an agreement, she still avoids them all night staying with her parents and drifting to sarah whenever she got the opportunity. so she finally ends up going to the bathroom and they basically corner her (teamwork 🤣) and they talk to her and they both end up fucking her in the stall.

this!!!!! this is perfect. i never brought the two of them together bc i just thought it was too unlikely because they really don’t like eachother — but if they’re kinda forced together by reader giving them no other choice it seems more likely.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

jj practically jumps you in the corridor, appearing frantically infront of you in his lil waiter get up and starts dragging you to the bathroom.

“jj, no — i already told you—”

“just five minutes just — just hear me out for five minutes okay — c’mon, in you go, chop chop.” he pushes you into the bathroom before turning round and blinking at passersby who worriedly witnessed the low level kidnap. “nothin’ to see here alright just, carry on…” he excuses awkwardly before closing the door.

upon entering, to your surprise rafe is stood in the centre of the room with his hands in his pockets and lips pursed like he was forced to be there too. he perks up a little on your entry, eyeing you over. he speaks your name and you glance between the two boys nervously.

“damn, you— you look really beautiful i mean—” rafe begins as he edges towards you and you all but nearly stomp your foot, pointing to him with an angry pout.

“don’t!”

the oldest boy holds his hands up, slowing his pace as he approaches you, showing he comes in peace. “alright, alright… look we… just wanted to talk to you. ‘that okay?”

your eyes slide over to jj, who’s gazing at you with this desperate plea that makes you soften a little. you cross your arms and nod, and naturally the boys close in on you, shielding you from the rest of the room.

“trust me, okay— the last thing i wanna do is share you with rafe freaking cameron but,” the blonde runs a hand through his hair frustratedly as the cameron rolls his eyes. “you went goddamn… radio silent on us and i was worried, okay? are you seeing the level of concern you caused right now? ‘cus i’m standing next to rafe and my hands aren’t around his neck—”

“yeah like you could reach, buddy.”

“i’m like three inches shorter than you asshole i’on even wanna hear it right now ‘cus—”

“guys.” you interject sulkily, huffing a sigh out your nose.

“sorry, sorry— yes, so uh— to cut this thing short, maybe until you like, make a decision or whatever… we can alternate weeks with you?”

you gaze up at them from beneath your lashes unsurely. “like… you get me this week rafe gets me next week… and so on?”

“yeah i’m not thrilled about this guy gettin’ you at all but i’ll… i’ll take it.” rafe scuffs his shoe on the floor, uncharacteristically bashfully.

you think, and honestly as it was the best case scenario you nod, gaze flickering between the two of them.

“okay… just… want you both. missed you.” you don’t know who to look at, so you cement your stare to your shoes. there’s some shuffling of feet through the tense silence before you feel a pair of fingers gripping your jaw lightly, tilting your head up to them.

“look… why don’t you uh, why don’t you give maybank here a little kiss. alright? i’m— i’m actively showin’ you i’m cool with it.”

even jj’s brows lift in surprise, licking over his rubied lips as he watches you for permission. you let rafe’s hand drag you closer, before bringing your mouth to jj’s, locking lips. rafe’s hand switches to cup the back of your head, supposedly feeling this was the most control he could have in the situation. his eyes flutter in irritation as he watches jj slip you tongue and after a moment he pulls you back, immediately bringing your mouth to his— to kiss you sloppier and dirtier than the blonde.

jj’s eyes roll, licking over his lips once more. “jesus, dude — okay.”

you let out a pleased moan after a moment, just happy to have your favourite boys back with you, this time together — and rafe tugs you back with a smug smirk. you watch his eyes flutter up to the cubicle behind you, before his gaze moves to jj.

“get the door, yeah busboy?” he slaps jj on the back, and with his tongue in his cheek — he pushes the cubicle door open for the three of you to fit inside.

“watch it, douche.” he glares as rafe leads you in. it’s a squeeze, but it’ll do for now. the competitive nature in them both was flared up to ten, set on using this time as a way to prove themselves to you.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Many weeks have passed since your relationship with Mike began. Every chance you got, every break from studying, you spent with the Schmidt siblings, especially on weekends. Today, in particular, the three of you spent the whole day together, which ended with Abby falling asleep in the middle of a board game she insisted on playing despite the late hour. In the process of cleaning everything up, you and Mike start asking each other some questions to get to know each other better. The situation escalated from there.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Mike can speak Spanish, translation to everything at the end (y’all, every time I watch that video on YouTube of Josh answering the web’s most searched question about him and he starts speaking in Spanish... 🥵) Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Table sex. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Part 1-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The weekend had arrived, bringing with it a much-needed break from college lectures and a chance to spend time with Mike Schmidt and his younger sister, Abby. The three of you had spent the day immersed in simple pleasures: watching Abby's favorite movies, preparing meals together, and even an impromptu dance party in the living room, which left Abby giggling uncontrollably.

As night fell, Abby suggested playing a board game. It was a game designed for children, colorful and straightforward, but its appeal lay more in Abby's enthusiasm than in the gameplay itself.

Mike sat back on the couch, his eyes softening as he watched you and Abby playfully argue over the rules of the board game she insisted on playing. His feelings for you had grown quickly over the past few weeks, and he often found himself marveling at how easily you fit into his life. It was a feeling that both comforted and surprised him-this natural blending of your world with his.

Mike's gaze lingered on you, noticing how you engaged with Abb, your smile genuine and warm, It was moments like these that made him realize just how much you meant to him. The thought of spending nights like this more often, with you by his side, filled him with a profound sense of happiness.

Abby seemed to relish the sight of you and Mike together, often teasing you both with exaggerated gestures of affection.

Whenever you leaned in to kiss Mike or wrap an arm around him, Abby would dramatically roil her eyes, feigning disgust in a way that only a precocious child could. "Ew, you guys are so gross" she'd declare, her face scrunched up, though the playful twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Mike enjoyed playing along with Abby's antics.

He would sometimes pause mid-kiss, turning to her with mock seriousness, "You're just jealous because he can’t resist my charm."

Abby would respond with an exaggerated gag, making you both laugh. "Ugh, please, spare me!" she'd cry, pretending to shield her eyes.

Abby's competitive spirit shone through as she took an early lead, her laughter infectious as she watched the two of you struggle to catch up.

Despite the game's child-like simplicity, you and Mike indulged her, enjoying the shared moments of joy and the occasional eye roll when she pulled off a particularly clever move.

Eventually, the day's excitement took its toll on Abby, and she gradually succumbed to sleep, leaning against Mike's side. Her soft snores were a testament to the fun filled day, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

He gently shifted her into his arms, carefully carrying her to her bedroom. The sight of Mike's gentle care warmed your heart, showcasing a side of him that made you admire him even more.

Once Abby was safely tucked into bed, Mike returned to the living room, with a soft sigh, he bent down and kissed you, his lips brushing against yours with affectionate warmth.

"She's out like a light," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

With the game almost cleared away, you caught the hint of reluctance in his demeanor, as if he was fighting the urge to suggest calling it a night. He wanted to savor this rare moment of togetherness, not wanting to seem like the boring type who couldn't keep up.

"Hey," you started, your voice light as you gathered some puzzle pieces into a box, "how about we play a little game while we clean up?"

Mike looked at you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "A game? Haven't we had enough of those for one night?" he asked, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of fatigue.

He had been running on the relentless schedule of work and caring for Abby, and the idea of simply wrapping you in his arms and falling asleep was incredibly appealing.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued tidying up. "Not that kind of game. I was thinking more of a question game—just you and me. We ask each other questions to get to know each other better. Nothing too serious, just...fun."

Mike hesitated, his instinctive walls coming up. You could see the reluctance in his eyes. He wasn't one to open up easily, even to someone he was dating. The thought of revealing too much too soon probably made him uneasy. But he also didn't want to seem boring or unwilling to engage with you, especially after the perfect day you had spent together. He sighed softly, then gave a small nod, agreeing to your proposal.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but warm, "but you go first."

You grinned, pleased that he was willing to play along. You folded up a blanket that had been tossed over the couch.

He sat on the couch and leaned back, stretching his arms with a yawn before picking up some toys scattered there that Abby has hidden in the morning.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?"

Mike paused, thinking it over as he picked up the scattered game pieces from the floor. He was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted, "I've never really thought about it. I guess.. maybe somewhere quiet. A place where Abby could be happy, where she could run around safely and just be a kid without any worries. Maybe a small town by the coast. She loves the water

You smiled at his answer, not surprised that even his hypothetical dreams were centered around Abby's happiness. "That sounds nice," you said softly, picturing the scene in your mind.

"My turn," Mike said, turning to you as he finished stacking the board games. "What about you? What's something you've always wanted to do but never had the chance to"

The question caught you off guard. You hadn't expected Mike to be so direct, but it was a good kind of surprise. You thought about it for a moment before answering. "I've always wanted to go on a road trip across the country," you admitted. "Just pack up and drive, see where the road takes me. No plans, no schedules, just freedom"

Mike nodded, seeming to understand the appeal. "Your turn, champ," he said, getting comfortable on the couch while he handed you this bag where all of Abby’s toys were.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay alert with a tired smile.

Mike’s head was resting on one of his hands, his eyes half-closed in a relaxed state as he waited for your question.

To break the tension, or perhaps to prolong it, you quickly thought of another question to ask.

"Say something to me in Spanish."

Mike blinked, clearly surprised by the request. You had heard him mumbling to himself in Spanish once before, early one morning when he thought he was alone in the kitchen. You hadn't understood what he had said, but the sound of the language rolling off his tongue had been intoxicating. You had been craving to hear him speak in Spanish again ever since.

Mike raised an eyebrow at your request, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. A small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Your cheeks were already flushing with anticipation.

He studied you for a moment, clearly amused by your request. Without further hesitation, he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke in fluid, flawless Spanish.

"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto," he said, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips

The way he said it, with such ease and confidence, sent a shiver down your spine. There was something undeniably hot about hearing him speak in a language you didn't fully understand, the foreign syllables carrying an air of mystery and allure.

"What... what did you just say?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike rubbed his eyes, clearly tired but still amused by your curiosity.

“It’s a secret,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll whisper it to you again...sometime.”

Grinning, you gave a nod and smoothly took the bag from his hands. With a swift motion, you began collecting the scattered toys and papers, turning the cleanup into a playful dance.

You could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he pondered a question to satisfy his curiosity. A slow smile crept across his face, transforming into a sly grin. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Before we got together, what’s one dirty thought you had about me?”

A rush of heat surged to your cheeks, and you instinctively placed your head on the table, shoulders shaking with a mix of laughter and embarrassment while you held tightly the bag. "Why did I invent these rules?" you groaned, half in regret and half in amusement.

Mike chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. His eyes went to esaminate the rest of the room, satisfied in seeing that there was almost nothing left. "Come on, you can't back out now. Rules are rules."

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head, your cheeks still burning. "Fine," you said, your voice tinged with shyness. "There was this one time... you were fixing something around the house in a tank top. I don’t really remember what you were fixing, I wasn’t paying attention to that, you know? I was just watching you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about— hmph..." You paused, your voice trailing off as you hesitated.

Mike leaned in, clearly eager to hear more. "Thinking what?" he prompted, his tone encouraging.

You laughed nervously, finally relenting. "i kept making scenarios in my head of you pulling me close and kissing me. And more..."

The tension between you was almost palpable, a charged current that seemed to pulse through the room.

“For the record, I knew you were staring." He whispered softly at you before turning his back at you to pick up some shredded paper from the ground

You smiled softly at him, happy to know that the attraction you felt for him was mutual.

This game you started will end soon.

After moving around to pick up toys and scattered pieces of paper, you started to feel the heat creeping up your neck. You had been so focused on the game and the conversation that you hadn't noticed how warm it had gotten. Tentatively, and feeling a little self-conscious, you decided to take off your shirt to cool down.

You hesitated for a moment before you slowly pulled off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. You felt a little shy, your skin tingling with a mix of nerves and excitement as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

When you finally looked up, you saw Mike staring at you in awe, his gaze fixed on your chest. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you suddenly felt very self-aware.

He caught your eye and winked, a gesture that sent your heart racing. In a fit of playful defiance, you grabbed your shirt and threw it at him, your cheeks burning under his gaze.

Mike raised an arm to shield himself from the attack, laughing quietly as the shirt hit him squarely in the chest. His grin widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "Hey, no fair! Can't blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He protested, but the grin on his face told you he was anything but annoyed.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling both shy and bold at the same time.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, the room was clean, and there was nothing left to distract you from the simmering tension between you. You turned to Mike, a sudden idea popping into your mind-a bold request that you weren't sure you had the courage to voice, but the thought of his hands on you was too tempting to resist.

"Hey," you began, your voice a little hesitant, "how about a reward for all that cleaning?"

Mike looked at you, intrigued. "What kind of reward are we talking about?" he asked as he leaned in slightly.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to ask. "A massage," you finally said, your voice almost a whisper. "On my back. I could use one after all that moving around."

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Sure," he agreed, his voice low and velvety. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up as he asked, "Where would it be more comfortable for you?"

Without overthinking it, you moved closer to him and, in a swift motion, settled yourself onto his lap, your back facing him. He let out a surprised huff, followed by a low grunt as he adjusted to your weight.

"Easy there," he murmured, clearly taken off guard by your boldness. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your hips. "You're getting a little too good at this teasing thing."

"Everything okay, old man?" you teased, laughter bubbling up inside you.

"You're lucky I like you," he shot back, grinning as his hands settled on your back.

Settling into Mike's lap, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with a warmth that spread from your cheeks down to your toes.

You could sense Mike adjusting slightly, finding the right balance to support you as his hands settled onto your shoulders. The touch was gentle at first, exploratory, as if he was reacquainting himself with every curve and line of your back. His fingers pressed into the muscles at the base of your neck, drawing out a sigh from you that was part relief, part pleasure.

"You've got a lot of tension here," Mike murmured, his voice low and intimate, the kind of tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I blame you for that," you teased, your own voice barely above a whisper.

His hands moved with practiced ease, kneading the knots and tightness with a care that was both soothing and intoxicating. Each stroke of his fingers felt deliberate, a careful balance between pressure and gentleness that sent warmth spreading through your body. You couldn't help but lean back slightly, closer against him, feeling the heat of his body seep into yours.

"Comfortable?" Mike asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"Very," you replied, the word coming out more like a contented sigh. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, the gesture both an invitation and an acknowledgment of trust.

His hands traveled lower, fingers tracing the contours of your spine with a touch that was both firm and featherlight. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips.

Mike's fingers splayed across your lower back, his thumbs working in tandem to soothe the tension from the long day. You could feel the strength in his hands, the surety of his touch, and it made you acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies.

"You're really good at this," you murmured, the words slipping out between soft sighs of pleasure.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. "I used to give Abby back rubs when she couldn't sleep.” he replied, his voice a deep rumble that resonated in your chest.

You couldn't help but shift slightly, pressing back against him, the motion eliciting a low hum of approval from him that sent your heart racing.

"You're making this very difficult for me to concentrate."

You smiled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "Who said I wanted you to concentrate?"

He laughed softly, a sound that wrapped around you like a favorite blanket, comforting and familiar.

You could feel your heart beating a little faster, your breath coming a little shorter, as if every cell in your body was attuned to the anticipation building between you.

Mike shifted beneath you, adjusting his position slightly, and the movement brought you even closer together, your bodies aligning in a way that was both natural and exhilarating.

You felt a surge of courage that prompted you to turn slightly, shifting so that you could see his face more clearly.

Mike met your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.

But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you.

His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure.

As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me.”

His mouth found its way to your neck, pressing kisses.

"Mike...”. you whispered, your voice a breathy plea, filled with a need that you couldn't quite put into words. "Speak to me... in Spanish... please."

The request hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you wondered if he would oblige. But then, his lips were at your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth in a rich, rolling cadence that made your heart skip a beat.

"Eres mi chico bueno," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a intensity that made your knees weak. "Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío."

You didn't need to understand every word to know what he was saying, the intent was clear in the way his voice caressed each syllable, his tone heavy with adoration.

His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath.

But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

"Me vuelves loco," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto."

"Mi chico perfecto," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in the sensation, your body pressing against his in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

"Eres mío," he murmured, his words a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. "Solo mío."

The declaration sent a thrill of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, the sound quickly muffled by his kiss. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one, to erase the space that dared to separate you.

And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion.

Mike shifted, rising from the chair with you in his arms and he carried you to the table with a grace that left you breathless.

The cool surface met your skin as he bent you over the table, a contrast that heightened the warmth of his body pressing against you. His hands roamed with a newfound urgency.

His lips followed the path his hands had charted, pressing kisses that were both gentle and insistent.

You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, a sound of pure pleasure that echoed in the quiet room. Mike responded with a deep, resonant grunt, a primal sound that spoke of his own rising desire.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a playful reprimand. But his own breath was ragged.

Mike's hands found yours, interlocking your fingers as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back in a gesture that spoke of unity and devotion. His breath was warm against your ear, his whispered words a balm that soothed and ignited in equal measure.

His hand finds the front of your sweats, breaking your train of thought, and he smiles when you gasp softly.

"You're hard."

"Have been for a while," is all you say, face hot.

He just nods before kissing you again, hand rubbing against your bulge with his other one still on your rear.

His hands make haste with the strings of your sweatpants, loosening it just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It’s rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.

Mike was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more.

He strokes you and you curl into him. It’s as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you’d ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You’ve already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment.

Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You buckle his belt and take him out of his jeans and boxers and revel at the sight.

He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así."

You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible.

"I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

Mike kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.

His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager.

"Mike," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.

Your hands clenched into fists on the cold table.

His tongue finally - thankfully - pushes past the precipice, your hips rising at the feeling. Already, your dick twitches in ecstasy, wanting more, wanting release. You can feel the way his facial hair curls upwards against you.

He spits once at your hole as he pulls away, his chin slick from his preparations. Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured.

He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?"

You nod with furrowed brows and god, when he pushes the tip slowly past your rim, you swear you could die.

He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you.

You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness. The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.

He strokes you at a pace mimicking his own movements, and your brain begins to steam, overcome with heat and desire.

"Shit," you grit, finally opening your eyes.

Your hips buck upward and his thumb shifts against your head as a result, sending you over the edge, spilling over his hand and onto your stomach.

Mike groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, pace quickening as he longs to join you in your ecstasy before thrusting a final time, moaning low as he spills.

Warmth spreads over you as he keeps himself slotted within. His hand rests on your stomach.

"You good?" He asks with a soft and reassuring cadence, leaning over to kiss your collarbone as his hands rub up and down your sides.

You nod, satisfied. He chuckles softly at your expression, taking it in affectionately.

As you turned to face him, you saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and your heart softened. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his eyelids heavy as he tried to keep his gaze focused on you.

"Mike," you whispered, reaching up to gently caress his face, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "You look like you're about to pass out."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he let out a deep, tired sigh. "I'm so tired," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for the man before you. "Let’s get cleaned up real quickly," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Mike's eyes opened slightly, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "You're too good to me," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

You shook your head, your smile widening as you helped him to his feet. "No, Mike. We're good for each other."

Later on, as you curled up together in bed, Mike's arms wrapped securely around you, his breath warm against your neck, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, with love and trust as foundation.

As Mike drifted off to sleep, his body relaxed against yours, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, feeling utterly content.

Note: I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who read the first part of this. Your support and kind words mean the world to me and have truly inspired me to continue writing.

I hope you enjoy this second part just as much as the first. Your feedback and encouragement are incredibly motivating, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this continuation of the story.

Thank you once again for all the love and support!

Translation for all the words in Spanish (done with the help of my brother so blame him for any errors)

-"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto"= "You are a beautiful and perfect boy"

-"Eres mi chico bueno" = "You're my good boy"

-"Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío." = "My precious, the most beautiful I've ever seen. You're mine."

-"Me vuelves loco" = "You drive me crazy"

-"No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto." = "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect."

-"Mi chico perfecto" = "My perfect boy"

-"Eres mío" = "You're mine"

-"Solo mío" = "Only mine"

-"Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así." = “You're so fucking handsome like that."

[hitomisuzuya]

Don't mind this, everyone. This is just me high typing cause I am lonely. I should probably be typing fluffy Childe smut, but I digress. Bear with me.

I really love the idea of self aware Genshin characters. It's such a Yandere thing. I am gonna include my own experience a little in farming for Scara and using him in game for the sake of flow of whatnot so I can talk about this. The narration may change a bit in some places. I'll change the font style and whatnot, continuing on.

My best friend has this fun little headcanon that Scara came somehow manipulate the game in some way, make it glitch for lack of better word. Like, he would know when you are playing him. He would sense it, mainly being able to feel how you feel through your hands, seeing as how, especially if you are a mobile player like I am, your hands around your phone the whole time.

He could feel when you are happy, and when you get unsure about something. He would notice like dependent habits you have, like if you have him in your party and rotate him out for say like his cool down for his burst or ESkill, or to put up a shield with whatever character (for me, it would be Noelle, my girl🥰), he would feel the unease you feel having to rotate him out for a few moments.

Or if you are fighting and have another character on field, and you freeze in the middle combat whether it be because you hesitated or weren't sure about having this particular character on field, and you rotate him back in and he instantly feels you relax because you can rely on him to carry you (no joke, get that boy up in the air and let his tracking go to work😌).

You depend on him, and that's what validates him. He can feel how you feel about him. It sends him reeling when he realizes that someone could depend on him. Could love him? You loved him despite everything he did, and everything he'd been through. You trust him, love him, and rely on him with every fiber of your being.

You were loyal. He can even hear the affection in your voice when you tell him good morning or good night. He loves that you love him.

Basically, the more he feels you through your hands, the more he comes self aware. This feeling is doubled, especially if you are in a high stress situation like..*twitch*..The Spiral Abyss. My two teams are obvious strike teams built around Scara and Childe.

He always went on somewhat of a power trip whenever you went to the Spiral Abyss. You built one of your teams so carefully around him. He'd felt how much thought you'd given it. If he had it his way, you wouldn't need a second team.

He was the only one you needed. Meandering in the Spiral Abyss was just another way for him to prove that he could take care of you.

You were his.

He is even able to see what you look like, being able to widdle away the barrier between you, him, and the game. Soon, very soon, he would be able to breach the barrier and reach his fingers into your very world.

I'm sure we all remember putting our noses to the grindstone farming for him. We all twitched from the same trauma of farming Rukkhashava Mushrooms, all while still exploring a newly released Sumeru. And the Handguards.

He wondered what it had been like preparing for him. You'd had everything all gathered in a nice neat pile for him. He hated that you'd had to rely on another character even though you were preparing for him (for me it was Xiao).

He couldn't stand that you inevitably do have to be away from your phone (or whatever you use). He has a lot of time on his hands to whatever in Teyvat until you returned, but all he could think about was you.

What were you doing? Who were you talking to? Or who you were with? He wouldn't need to worry about that much longer, he could by now hack into your phone and find out whatever he needed to know.

He has to have you now, especially when he saw just how in love with him you really were. Question is, would he stay here in your world with you, or would he steal you away and take you back with him?

Those two questions echoed in his mind as he looked down at you in the dark of your room while you slept. His precious treasure was now close enough for him to touch, to brush some hair off of your face.

Who the hell is gonna read all this 😂 But, I am going to bed now, I gotta get up early tomorrow. Thank you if you even read this far. Goodnight, everyone.

[toxic-lass]

Some guy, and all his friends!

I wanted to do that relationship chart that went around forever ago, BUT I wanted to try my best to draw the gang. So I'm getting on this bandwagon late BUT I DID IT (minus Minthara, he's never gotten to really meet her)

And then I got carried away and wrote out little blurbs for the gang (I am n o t a writer) so that's below the cut. "Enemies" is also way too strong a word for all his companions he just "had beef" with.

Astarion: Their relationship is surprisingly complex. Gideon was already wary of Astarion upon first meeting him because he claimed to be a magistrate from Baldur's Gate. Gid is heavily suspicious of everyone he encounters with any ties to nobility or the Upper City. He is hiding a huge part of his life from the entire party afterall, meeting someone too close to his old life could prove to be a problem, should they have ever crossed paths with him or his family. However upon finding out Astarion was a vampire he feels a bit more at ease, selfishly he sees this as his advantage over the elf. If he knew too much, or even just more than he was letting on, Gid could have a response. Thankfully nothing ever really came of his worries. He honestly wasn't all that threatened by Astarion. Whether true or not, he believed whole heartedly that he could deal with a vampire should the need arise, and it almost did, they got in a rather intense scuffle the first time Astarion tried to bite him, that was a bit of a bad look, Gideon didn't appreciate it. But, after a couple of rough patches they do end up becoming genuine friends. Astarion saw him as a means to an end, a meat shield who could protect him if it came down theough it: and Gideon willingly did just that, minus the "meat shield" part, he didn't know Astarion called him that… But multiple times throughout their travels the barbarian assured Astarion he wouldn't let anything happen to him, and over time Astarion realized he believed him.

Gale: Gale is... the first subject of Gideon’s... bullying? Gideon has some pretty intense feelings about spellcasters. Traditional spellcasters mind you, he displays very obvious distrust of sorcerers, wizards, and warlocks. So he isn't always very nice to Gale, who tends to go out of his way to be courteous to him despite the way he's treated. Gideon harshly rejects his offers to show him magic, he doesn't humor his musings about the weave, the only kindness he gets from Gideon is that the barbarian is at least sympathetic to his condition. Gideon actually knows Gale from the city, on a surface level. Gid's mother was an enchantress, she had her finger on the pulse of everything related to magic. So of course she heard of Mystra's Chosen and by extension the tiefling did as well. Gale was something Gideon studied years to never become, a prodigy, a powerful master of arcana. Gideon resents him, for these things that are out of his control. Upon finding out more about Gale's situation, and the revelation of Mystra's coldness and true intentions, Gideon becomes kinder to him. Even apologizing for any of his actions. They do become friends, and Gid values him as such. Hoping he'll understand that he's so much more than his magic and his goddess.

Halsin: Gideon doesn't have many thoughts on Halsin. He sees him as well spoken and wise but beyond that the tiefling doesn't have much of a relationship with the druid. It's in part because he frequently finds himself embarrassed by Halsin's flattery and he just doesn't quiet know how to talk to him. But also because Gideon’s “solutions” to problems, aren't usually the way Halsin would solve problems. Where Halsin believes There could be a more peaceful resolution, the odds of Gideon using brute force and intimidation before peace is even considered is always higher than not. They have a mutual respect for one another, but not much else beyond that.

Jaheria: It's hard to tell if she actually enjoys him, or if it’s some sort of pity that shapes their relationship, but Jaheria does like Gid, and the feelings are mutual. Gideon greatly admires her. It's that he clearly just admires her as a person, and finds her presence comforting, since he actually admitted to not really knowing much of her story, given his sheltered life there are lots of things he isn't quiet aware of. She seems to understand that and treats him kindly after their rocky first meeting. He is often able to convince her to share some stories with them under the guise that he and Karlach want to listen, when in reality he wants to know more about her, and she knows that, but humors him anyway. His cautious optimism and steadfast bravery remind her of friends who've come and gone, and she hopes he finds the life he deserves at the end of everything.  

Karlach: They knew eachother once. Though neither recalls because time has been cruel. But they did. They met as kids, and only knew eachother by informal names. She just called him Evervale, and he only knew her as K. They weren't in each other's lives long, so when they met again some decade later they were none the wiser. She is easily the companion to become the closest to him, the quickest. They have a lot in common despite living two very different lives. It's not hard to see why they had little crushes on one another for a pretty long time. But it never really develops into any besides that: a crush, puppy love. They're platonic soulmates in every right, or maybe 'right person, wrong time'? There is a certain tragedy to their relationship but it becomes clear to everyone (except him... for awhile atleast) that he clearly loves someone else and they aren't meant for eachother like that. She's actually the one who points it out to him, insisting he should go with his heart. This actually hurts him a little as he doesn't see the truth in her words, and for awhile they stop speaking as Gideon isolates himself. But that doesn't last long at all, when the part encounters Dammon again at Last Light Inn. With Karlach's second upgrade Gideon can't stop himself from pulling her in to a hug, which he returns instantly. With the moment quickly turning somber at the news they receive about her engine. The two spend that night together as friends, though he tries to ask her about her engine he stops when she asks him to, and they just spend the night sharing some drinks and stories under the stars.

By the time they reach Baldur's Gate they're pretty much inseparable, attached at the hip wherever they go having one pretty significant squabble about Raphael but in the end there's not many people he trusts as much as her. And he holds her trust in him as an incredibly high honor he doesn't take lightly and would do anything for her.

Lae'zel: Gideon greatly respects Lae'zel. Lae'zel… acknowledges he exists. The way he looks at Shadowheart disgusts her, the way he empathizes with strangers disgusts her- she sees him as soft and weak, perhaps rightfully so. When meeting strangers sometimes Gideon will withhold some of the truth about his class, if not outright lie. As a noble he has preconceived notions about how someone claiming to be a "barbarian" may be perceived. So upon meeting the party, he told them he was simply a fighter, something he tried to use as common ground with Lae'zel. If anything this just made it worse, as she would often comment on how tender he tended to be, and how it was a miracle he hadn’t be brutally gutted yet, as he lacked discipline and principle. This charade couldn't last forever though, as in one particular fight, when their tiefling 'fighter' friend flew off the handle and brutally pummeled some goblins with a rock after one caught the Bard he befriended with a stray arrow, the party had more than a few questions; it was obvious their blood soaked fighter wasn't entirely honest with them. While everyone else briefly felt a little more tense around him, Lae'zel actually softened toward him. They reached some form of understanding. He was simply a different kind of warrior than she was, and a fearsome one at that, she grew to respect him and he returned it in kind. They become genuine friends after everything, and eventually he even gets the 'Thank you' he asked for all that time ago.

Shadowheart: I'm not immune to the "A fell first, B fell harder" trope, and that is them in a nutshell. Gideon liked her pretty early on in a platonic way, he found her company enjoyable enough. Though by his own standards of "enjoyable", a lot of their time spent together then, was him irritating her. He saved her life once and that was really the only thing they had between them. She was secretive and guarded, he was somewhat honest and eager to help. She felt he was an idiot with a bleeding heart, who shared far too much with strangers, and he felt she was just kind of mean. That didn't stop him from developing feelings toward her, however they weren't so obvious, as if he didn't even realize it himself. He was the only member of the party to seem unrattled by her revelation of Shar worship, which is what perhaps made her see him as a real ally. She confided in him, and without fail he listened. Now whether or not he would throw in a joke in response was up in the air, but it was never malicious, and he always knew there was a time and a place. His goal was never to actively hurt or upset her, though he did tend to pry when she would make vague comments about her mission or getting back to the city. It was to be expected, that was their dynamic. It would actually be Shadowheart who confronted his feelings toward her. They spend the night of the Grove Party together and the next morning she muses about how for some reason she thought he wanted to kiss her, and that he would but didn't... He's an idiot, he plays it off, they have a laugh, but this is a turning point for the both of them.

The Shadowcursed Lands are particularly hard on him, even though he isn't a religious man, uncovering the story of Moonrise and what befell the town of Reithwin because of Shar, really shakes him. He and Shadowheart drift apart during this time as the way he sees her actually shifts. After she choses to spare the Nightsong, when they escape the Shadowfell, Gideon is the first person to rush to her. It is in this moment the barbarian finally confesses how he feels and she returns those feelings.

Gideon doesn't see much in himself, but she sees him as a light in the dark. The irony of it is, that's exactly how he sees her too. They're a balance neither realized they needed.

He and Wyll are also ironically two endings of a similar story, Gideon realizes this, and it drives him mad. Wyll is noble hearted, wants to do what's right, and free himself in the process; Gideon is furious, wants to survive, and is destroying himself in his efforts to do so. Unlike Wyll, Gideon believes he will never be free of his family name, he will never be anyone more than Gideon Evervale. There are no legendary heroics in his future, he is no Blade of Frontiers, he is simply an angry, hurt man, who can't escape the darkness that haunts him.

Wyll: Wyll is so kind, and patient, and good… and Gideon can't stand that about him. While Wyll likes Gid well enough, Gideon is extremely cold and abrasive towards Wyll. Again Gideon doesn't trust magic users, wizards, sorcerers, warlocks. Things like Arcane Tricksters or Paladins or Clerics don't seem to bother him, but he is extremely wary of spellcasters. (He has a big "I told you so" moment after the party meets Lorroakan. He talks about it for days after, he is extremely committed to this bit. “Oh, who would've thought the sorcerer who sent mercs to hunt Aylin was a BAD GUY”)

These feelings are obvious one sided, Wyll is always kind and patient with Gid no matter how the barbarian treats him, because he can see Gideon is hurting, and his anger is misplaced.

As their respective stories unfold Gideon does grow kinder to Wyll, as the Warlock along with the others eventually learn the truth about their barbarian, and he can see Gideon’s rage. And Gideon comes to realize just how much he and Wyll have in common when the party learns about the Duke. Gideon does eventually apologize to Wyll, for everything he ever said or did. He acknowledges the other man had no reason to be so understanding to him, when all he ever was was cruel.

They respect eachother in the end. The warlock helps him see he's more than his past, and life will go on.

[maneaterwithtail]

Did Elf Senshi Change or Not

Figured post character development, at the least result of red dragon, use his mithril knife. Maybe tear clothes to make cloth shield

I realize the gag is supposed to make him super duper p**** looking While still committing to the same bit of just standing there and being archetypical even to a goofy degree just elegant Alf as opposed to doofy dwarf

The problem is you have to turn off every other aspect of his personality and behavior in order to get the gag to work to the extreme it goes to

And as even more so in the episodic presentation but especially what came before you figure he would be all about committing himself to a pragmatic solution for his current predicament and group utility.

OK sure not carrying his PAN because it's too heavy for him. so why isn't he carrying anything else that can cook or keep food abd provide safety with or make sure he's armed because he definitely knows how dangerous the dungeon is and how critical it is to have some sort of tool in order to affect violence that might be necessary for living

Contrast and compare say how he introduced the golems to how he's handling the gargoils

Now it's understandable, the gargoyles are new and the golems are known and familiar

And it was pointed out he has a tendency to use his weapons in such a way that he runs them down as opposed to keeps them in the best condition. the exception being his cooking implements which he treasures immensely which might be due to his own single focus on cooking or the fact that you know they're ancestral keepsakes from the closest thing he has to family and the only property he's probably had most of his life

Which is strike 2 on the whole him just leaving the PAN behind because he's kept it with him for literally decades at this point so it's too heavy that's why I left it seems an odd decision (empty and all carrying make more sense)

Having his knife on hand makes perfect sense because a knife is incredibly practical tool that you can use in a variety of situations that are likely to come up especially in combat exploration or survival situations

To be fair that is a knife that he seems to reserve almost exclusively for elements of cooking or at least did until the dragon situation. So naturally at this time it should be readily available for him. Especially as he's just recommitted himself utterly and completely to the good of the group.

And the previous incident had him more or less coming clean and being more open.

so if the issue is " I don't know how to fight without my normal strength and tools" you think he would express this at some point to his leader so that that way he's prepared or ask what to do next when it comes up.

The implication is when he's been Blunt before yes he is doing so but it's also with an unspoken level of communication based on instruction and cooperation such as the incident with the shiki Gami

There 3 members of the party effectively coordinated an attack that was able to come together. With the implication that if not exactly planned this, he knew how to act in conjunction with his friends

Again all of this disappears when he becomes an elf. he apparently loses all sense of unity with the party that he's remarkably been able to work alongside and definitely has been developing this rapport about

He doesn't communicate critical information that would be relevant to ongoing practical concerns nor is he prepared for a likely upcoming practical concern

And he betrays his own limited Arbitrary but established stubbornness such as With regards to keep sakes or sticking to a certain lifestyle or collection even if it's Deviant from his race or others expectation

Simply put Senshi has been surviving in the dungeon on practical terms for very good reasons for a very long time.

I can understand why for instance he could walk around with a broken axe until he got to the point where he could replace it either from a corpse or earning enough coin to go into town and buy one

I could understand for instance him leaving his equipment in one place and then coming back to it later if believe it's critical for his own safety or recovery

None of these apply here and more importantly the party knowing it's roles and how to be armed and what to expect is absolutely critical. so much so that this first off not being taken care of in a passport or between scene is already a bit dubious. We see scenes of them dressing and of them basically rearranging to the circumstances as they are

For instance it makes sense to me that Marcel fired a magic shot even though she doesn't have as much in the tank. it's established very early on how much she is all about and prides herself on magic as well as can often overlook practical concerns and practice and also the realities of things that she might know intellectually but is unfamiliar with in practice.

That's in fact her very constant gag! Though they definitely find new ways to explore that. just the previous episode, for instance, in terms of making familiars As well as designing how to maximize their use

So she keeps hold of her staff, because that's her item. the only one experienced in order to use it especially now, and she instinctively uses too much magic because that's her first instinct at almost all times but then due to a recent disability she has not adjusted to she's taken out of the fight as a direct result

The same as when lios tires out in mid fight. he's gotten used to the strength. so he naturally assumes that that's going to come with stamina only to realize, especially in a fight, that's not the case. but he's only recently had this body and recently addressed its physical realities and this is the first major physical confrontation he's had.

but note he still has armor and he still has a weapon

Chilchuk - I think this is missing in the actual episode z but he just comments how weird his senses feel and when he sticks to his normal strategy of run like hell and hide in a corner. it doesn't work explicitly because he's so big and probably draws greater agro now or nit used to running in this body with these senses

It also makes sense he doesn't compensate for it. he's been established as someone who doesn't regularly fight. the one skill in fighting he's started to establish as firing arrows. I don't think he actually had the bow and Arrows available. and he was up against Stone monsters this time. so understandably didn't even bother to try. especially in a situation that was unfamiliar to him. he's been established as - I don't want to say cowardly but definitely does not stick his neck out unless he absolutely has to though he will try to save someone if they are in danger **which is something we actually see him do**

Nstsumi has a tendency to go on a bit of a feral attack given Traits of animal instincts as a result of her own modification. Hers is arguably the biggest change but 1, she is less established so there is more leeway. 2, we are literally given a reason for it right when it happens. new animal, new instincts. so she doesn't know how to control or respond to them. So she has to be worked around on that level. It's a major change but it's also a major change that's the focus on the scene and folks working on it

But Senshi's there's this major change but then he says there isn't one which doesn't hold up. To be fair he did do the " stand there and look hot "during a battle one time. specifically the Fallon chimera. but even that 1 kind of made sense, because there were Multiple other fighters and he did have a strategy at hand.

'Appease the leader who was threatening the group by having the meal prepared.' it was a weird strategy but again it falls within the 2 sort of obsessions that he's known for and sticks to stubbornly.

Also the threat before then was that the mixed party would basically start fighting each other and in fact a fight had nearly broken out before the chimera attack and he was already doing that so he just didn't change course in order to attack what was already being addressed or at the very least stay out of the way so that he didn't ruin the one strategy he did have when the very attack ran the risk of reigniting interparty conflict

It was certainly Blunt and stubborn and arbitrary but it wasn't thoughtless or Without group concern.

So yeah I do think the transformation in terms of practical effect had way more of a change than I think even he is willing to admit. To be Fair reading his diary versus watching him in a narrative you get the sense yeah you get inside on what he's thinking but you also realize the way he's thinking doesn't necessarily reflect all that's true even in regard to just himself

As an example, the entire hypogriff soup entry is remarkably very truncated and doesn't explain a lot of what's going on

In fact they're surprisingly amount of stuff he glosses over in terms of what he thinks of as relevant or worth noting or reminding himself about

Which hits at a much more mired or thick headed psyche than one might think as opposed to project a deeper wiser one.

[yichuuonvenus]

The Party- I

Ethan Landry x Reader

Tainted Love- chapters

~Warnings~

Rape/Non-con, Loss of Virginity, Cock Warming, Dacryphilia, Knifeplay, Forced Orgasms, Corruption, Murder, Blood, Nightmares, Stalking, Underage Drinking, Attempted assault, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forced Relationship, Dacryphilia, Isolation, Attempted assault

You and Tara got ready, giggling as Quinn was in the other room. Another one of her boy toys was over. You couldn’t remember the names of the men she had in her room. Paul? Was this one’s name? Ryan? You couldn’t care enough to remember. But it’s nice to remember things that have nothing to do with what was going on in your mind at all times. 

 “Tara…” you quietly asked as music played to cover Quinn’s vigorous lovemaking. 

Sza was on, Ghost in the Machine calming the air. 

“Yeah?” She said as she finished her eye makeup. 

“Are you sure we should be going to this party?” You said as your hands fiddled with themselves. Picking at the skin causes your nails to bleed and crack from doing it constantly. Ever since… 

“You sound like Sam,” she said with a laugh. 

“I just- never mind,” you said, throwing yourself on the bed stomach down. 

“Hey hey, it’s going to be okay. It’s just going to be a night of fun. A night of forgetting,” she said as she stared in the mirror before making her way over to you. “Let’s go make bad choices.” 

You both laughed as you exited the room. 

You were dressed like Little Red Riding Hood. It was a cute outfit. A puffy skirt with cute black lace all over the bodice. You had a black ribbon in your hair. The one Sam gave you at the age of 6. You could remember how much you cried from Chad bullying you for still carrying around your stuffed animal. She gave you it along with a few cookies. You could still remember the smile on your face when you saw Chad in time-out. 

You made your way out into the street hailing a taxi with ease from living in the city for a good couple of months now. 

You were thriving in this new environment. You were truly so happy. 

The taxi ride was filled with playful banter. The driver was silent for the whole drive. It should’ve had you on edge but you didn’t want to be untruthful to people and live in constant fear. So you chose to ignore it. When you finally got to the house, what frat house you didn’t know, you jumped out so quickly Tara couldn’t help but follow your movements. 

“Chill out Road Runner, the party is not going anywhere,” she said with a chuckle. 

“Sorry, I’m just so excited.” A lie and you both knew it. 

“Hey, guys!!” Anika shouted in delight. She hugged the both of you. 

“Hi,” you said with a smile. You didn’t know Anika all that well. All you knew was that she was the pretty girlfriend to Mindy.

“So you all ready to partayyy,” Chad said with a hearty laugh. 

“Ugh if it will get you to shut up, yes! Lead the way,” Mindy replied. 

Chad glared at her before making his way towards the front of the group leading the way. 

You were in the back of the group with Ethan. He was dressed in an interesting costume, one you knew of. 

“Murder party huh?” You asked. Your red hood was on the top of your head almost shielding your eyes leading you to pull down the hood. 

“You… are you talking to me?” Ethan said with a gasp. 

“Well yeah who else would be dressed as one of the characters from that movie,” I giggled. 

“Well uh… yeah. You know the movie?”

“Yeah, my dad is a very big fan of scary movies. I only watched a few with him. They freak me out.” You quietly said. 

It was quiet the rest of the walk down. Ethan was nerdy, super very nerdy. You found it a little endearing but you couldn’t help but ignore that growing feeling you’ve hated with a vengeance. 

Ever since Wes, you couldn’t even think about dating again. You couldn’t even look at men the same. Not only because he held no interest in you but for Tara. But the fact he was killed by one of, who you believed was a friend. You’ve grown scared of forming relationships but you knew you had to for the sake of Tara. Of your friends. 

When you guys entered the house everyone immediately scattered leaving you with Chad and Ethan. 

“Looks like only the best people are left,” he said as he raised his hand for a high five. 

You couldn’t help but grimace with a smile and high-five him. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” 

The party was just like the movies. The combination of drunk college kids and music blasting through the house made it a fun atmosphere. 

You couldn’t help but be alone for most of the night. Nursing a cup as you watch drunk people chug the rest of a keg. You wished you could enjoy this type of life. But you couldn’t. Not with your dark past hanging over you. You almost died last year and all you wanted to do was forget about it and try to move on. 

You kept chugging down drinks. It made you dizzy and a bit nauseous but you kept doing it. Until it caused you to tip over, before you could fall on the floor someone caught you by your elbow. He was tall and with dark green eyes and light blonde hair. He reminded you of a Golden Retriever puppy. 

“You alright?” His voice was so sweet and soft it made you want to cry. 

“I- I’m fine…” you said quietly pulling your arm away from the mystery man. 

His eyes were fixed into a worried position and he frowned a bit. 

“Are you sure?” 

You almost sobbed because you knew you weren’t all right. You held the tears back as well as you could. 

“Hey hey… it’s okay,” he said, helping you sit down on a chair. “Lemme get you some water.” 

He left you for a bit and you sat there with unfocused eyes staring at the world around you. You could faintly see Tara talking to who you knew infamously as Date rape Frankie. 

You couldn’t help but stand back up and go to Tara. 

“Tara… where are you going?” You slurred your words and were stumbling over each other quite a bit. 

“I’m going upstairs with this guy,” she said also in a slurry haze. 

He looked like an asshole from the way he spoke and the way he stared at you. 

“Honestly you can come along too. I've always wanted a three-way,” the man said. 

You wanted to throw up all over him but your eyes remained on Tara. 

“I think- I don’t think you should,” you quietly said. Trying your best to stay upright. 

Tara noticed your state but she was too fucked up to even do anything.

“I’m fine trust me…” she said and that was when they started to go further to the foyer. Anika was swift at pulling Tara. 

“Hey… you wanna call it a night?” Anika said worries flooded her features. 

Tara was hesitant but for some reason, words just fell out of her mouth. 

“I think I’m gonna hang. But you guys don’t have to wait for me.” 

Frankie spoke up before you could try to persuade her. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. I’m Frankie-” 

“Anddd I’m spectacularly uninterested in knowing anything about you.” You couldn’t stop the small giggle leaving you before you quickly quieted from Frankie’s glare. “You’ve had too much, Tara.” 

“I’m not that bad, I swear. Thanks for checking on me.” 

You watched as they started to get closer to the stairs. Anika huffed and left. You didn’t know where she went. 

“Hey, why did you leave?” the blonde boy from earlier said. He had a cute pleading look that had your heart hammering. 

“My- my friend she…” All you could do was point at them as soon as the boy saw who it was he grimaced. You both watched as Anika showed back up with Chad and Ethan trailing behind them. 

“Heyyy, pal. No private tours for this one, ‘kay?” Chad said covering his anger with his broish tone. 

“Sorry, bro, I didn’t catch that,” Frankie said unamused by the group of people stopping him. 

“Yeah, bro, you did. Tara’s good down here-”

“It’s fine, Chad. I want to,” Tara muttered. 

“See, Chad? She wants to.”

It was quick the way it all happened. Frankie grabbed Tara by the arm but then Chad grabbed Frankie by the shirt before he could land a punch Sam appeared out of nowhere. All you saw then was Sam tasering Frankie. 

“Don’t ever put your hands on my sister!” Sam said. 

“Shit…” you said under your breath. “I have to go.” 

You couldn’t stop to talk to the blonde-haired boy before Mindy had your arm and pulled you out. 

“I didn’t catch your name!” he yelled, shocked by the whole scene in front of him. 

“You’ll probably never will,” Mindy yelled back with a laugh. She eyed you and cocked an eyebrow. You shrugged as she held you upright. 

Tara was already on the road. Embarrassment is written all over her features. 

“Tara!” Sam called.

You already knew how this was going to go, another fight. You stood behind Ethan, you had lost Mindy along the way so you were holding onto him too drunk to even stand on your own. His arm was wrapped around you, protectively. You shut out the screaming but your ears perked up as you were dragged into the conversation. 

“You could’ve got hurt or worse! LOOK AT Y/N, she can barely stand!” Sam screamed. As if everyone suddenly remembered your presence you turned and hid inside Ethan's chest. The cardboard part of his clothes was digging into your skin but you didn’t care, you just wanted all the eyes on you to disappear. 

Chad decided to speak up not wanting Sam to be more upset than she already was, “Sam let's just chill out-”

But before he could finish what he was saying a girl threw a drink at Sam as they shouted murderer. Chad and Tara made sure to hold her back as she screamed at them. You kinda blanked out the rest of the night and when you woke up you were in a bed. One you recognized as Tara's. It was still very dark, the moon was glimmering in the night sky. You stood up, your movements were slow but not in a drunken stupor. 

You heard the TV low and steady no one was talking, not even faint whispering could be heard. The room was deathly silent.

Previous Chapter? Next Chapter?

[andguesswhat]

Okay, why the hell not? For the Dune promo, my head had come up with a story about Jack without asking, for various reasons though it never made it completely onto paper.

But now that it's Jack's birthday... I thought maybe I'd just post the beginning as a birthday present… lol

But don’t worry, Jack, it’s rather harmless, I would say.

The shield that you own

*

Jack grabbed Tim under the arms to hold him better. Even though Tim was as light as a feather, they were all uncontrollably heavy when drunk. Tim giggled at the contact, his head falling heavily onto Jack's shoulder.

"What kind of bodyguard are you? ... Are you trying to tickle me to death? You should know by now that I'm ticklish!" Tim's voice was slurred and mumbling and the tone became childish and provocative, when he continued, "You could carry me...?"

Without responding, Jack dragged Tim further through the hotel room door, half supporting, half pulling, under his arm, around his waist, just where his balance was giving way, while trying not to lose Tim’s jacket that he already had taken off. Of course, he could have carried him instead, this skinny little creature who was nevertheless lighter when drunk than some when sober, but there was more than one reason to avoid it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim curl his lips into an exaggerated pout. "You're never any fun, Jack!"

Jack raised his eyebrows as if to say "Really?" but ignored Tim's comment apart from that as well as Tim's far-too-close lips, from which a whiff of tequila emanated, and concentrated instead on getting Tim to the bed.

They were in Mexico city, a huge premiere of Dune 2 in this huge city had just taken place this evening and the after party hadn't been wild, but it had apparently been enough to make Tim giggle uncontrollably. Sometimes it didn't take much for the adulation of the masses to get him drunk. First the senses were hyped, wide smile, wide eyes, wide talk, than followed giddy drunkenness.

At the bed, Jack let go of Tim so he could fall onto the bed, but Tim didn't let go of him, so Jack toppled over with him. He tried to catch himself with his hands, but he couldn't catch his whole body, so his face brushed Tim's cheek and his nose buried deep down in those god damn dark curls.

Tim giggled beneath him. And Jack decided to give himself a millisecond. They were familiar with each other, very familiar, also physically, and yet this closeness always did something to him.

The soft tickle of the curls on his skin and the smell of Jamie's hair styling products in his nose made Jack close his eyes for another millisecond.

Then the two milliseconds were over and he sat up again, ignoring the vague tugging in his body, heart as loins, instead lifted Tim's legs onto the bed and set about removing his boots while Tim rolled on the bed and grumbled like a drunken teen.

It wasn't that often that Tim got drunk, but it wasn't the first time either. Jack knew Tim liked the buzz, even if he was too worried to indulge in it too often.

In a fit of energy Tim humped the bed, “Goddd… Austin was looking sex-ayyy tonight, right? Wanted to fuck him right there.”

Jack ignored the comment, pulled on the second boot and placed it next to the bed.

Tim lifted his head and looked at him, "I can't believe you put them on the floor, instead of just letting them fall!" He sounded somehow shocked, admiring and teasing at the same time.

Jack laughed. He liked it when Tim made fun of him, it was always... affectionate.

But then Tim closed his eyes again and Jack could see the buzz working in his head. He let his gaze linger on Tim's face.

The face of an innocent angel. He resisted the impulse to brush a curl of hair from this face. The angel was not meant for him.

It was time to go.

Jack adjusted his jacket, "Do you need anything?" With the last of his strength, Tim straightened up, grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him onto the bed so that Jack ended up lying next to him. "Don't go," Tim's breath hitched against Jack’s face. Again Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He had been so determined that it wouldn't happen again and now he had to admit to himself that he had only deceived himself.

For a while they just lay there, Tim breathing, searching his way through the grogginess, Jack watching him, feeling the gentle ripples of air on his face with every breath Tim took…

When Tim's head carousel seemed to slow down a little, Tim laid his hands on Jack's face. "It was awesome, wasn't it?" His eyes opened briefly before closing again. "All those crowds..." Yes, the fans, the crowds, the masses... Tim loved that. Bathing in the crowd, being admired by the masses. The crowd electrified him, turned him on. Made him horny. And now the thought of it was apparently enough to reawaken his sex drive.

Tim rubbed his crotch lightly against Jack's thigh. An audible gasp.

Jack bit his lower lip. Then another rub.

Tim's breathing a little louder this time, Tim's cock noticeably harder.

The desire spread through Tim's tired body, waking him up, making him more alert and horny by the second until it finally took over. Tim swung himself over Jack, propped himself up with his hands to the right and left of Jack, his head lowered, his curls in free fall, and looked at him with a glazed expression. He looked so beautiful, so hot. Jack couldn't say it any other way. It wasn't his fault he was getting weak. Tim lowered his pelvis, rubbing against his, pressing their hard cocks together. Almost automatically Jack went to Tim's cock, squeezed it through his pants and Tim groaned. Jack knew what this was all about, what Tim wanted. And even if Jack didn't necessarily want to admit it to himself, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill Tim's wish. Tim humped into Jack's hand, moaning, and Jack's fingers eventually found their way into his pants, under his underpants, feeling the warmth, the soft skin, and wrapped around Tim's hard cock as Tim's moans vibrated louder and louder through his body. Tim's glazed look was both present and absent. As if he wanted to take Jack back there to the masses again. They had both experienced it, had both been there, how the crowds had loved Tim, had wanted him. If it had been up to them, they would have all wanted to touch him, grab him, tear his clothes off, and if it had been up to Tim, Tim would have wanted that too, to feel that love, on his body, hands on his bare and naked skin, fingers reaching for him, digging into his flesh, mouths kissing and tongues licking every inch of him, wanting him, loving him, bringing him to climax. Jack was sure Tim was having sex with all those people in his head right then when Jack pumped him hard, Tim’s gaze dark, his lips moist. It didn't take long now, Tim was exhausted, this wasn't about maximizing pleasure, about extensive sex. What had built up had to come out. Jack felt the hard cock twitch, smelled the sex already, and Tim came with a loud moan. "Ahh!" The cum was warm and sticky on Jack's fingers. Jack knew what it tasted like. Tim dropped down close to Jack and again the damn curls tickled Jack's nose. Tim reached tiredly and lazily for Jack's cock.

It wasn't half-hearted, but it was far from promising either. "You don't need to-" Jack said. "No, I don't want you -" "No, it's okay." Tim rubbed his nose tiredly against Jack's shoulder. "Sure?" "Yeah..." "I'll make it good for you another time, okay?" Jack laughed softly. Tim snuggled up to him. "Sorry, I stained your suit." "It's okay." It wasn't the first time. Jack tried to straighten up. "But I should go now." Tim's heavy arm across him stopped him. "No… Don't be stupid." Jack took a deep breath, for a while wondering if he should insist. For his own self, which would only nag him again tomorrow.

But he was pretty inept at letting Tim down. Always had been. "Can I at least take my jacket off?" He tried to take it lightly. "Yeah sorry..." Tim took his arm away. Jack took off his jacket, half rose from the bed to throw it over the back of the chair, took off his shoes and deliberately dropped them on the floor. Tim chuckled with half-closed eyes. "Good for you!" Jack smiled, albeit a little melancholically, and lay back down in bed a little away from Tim, but Tim immediately moved and cuddled up to him. "Did you see the girl who wanted the tattoo and what I wrote?" Tim asked quietly and dreamily. "Of course." Tim always wanted Jack to hear everything funny he said or did. "Man, I was shaking so much..." Yes, Jack had noticed that.

It was always fascinating to Jack that some things never changed. Of course, Tim was an old hand on the red carpet by now, and even if he knew by now how to hide it very well, the crowds not only electrified him, they also still intimidated him as hell. "I felt you behind me," Tim whispered quietly. "You know when I leaned up to that fan? You stepped up, too. I was so glad that I had you in my back." "It's my job."

"You took care of me."

Tim looked Jack deep into his eyes, not drunk, but not sober either, and gently pressed his lips to Jack's. "I couldn't do any of this without you, you know that, right?" Jack held his breath, looked at Tim, although he wanted nothing else than to close his eyes.

And he didn't know if he hated Tim more for saying that, or himself for wanting to believe it. ***

[ghostforwhat]

beckoning you to go on the spiel

ur an enabler <3 but also Hannibal Lecter & his relationship with death is so so intriguing. To start with, up until this point, he’s not open with anyone about his views on death as an escape choosing instead to focus on the other aspects and power he thinks he has constructed over it. But with Bella, he is beginning to unravel and so his actions and advice take on more and more drastic tones because he is, for the first time since childhood, in a situation he can barely (if at all) control. He needs to be pretend that he does, and can continue to, maintain it because he’s playing a very high risk game with a very low chance of it turning out in his favor and he knows it. By interacting with Will & the Team at all, he’s showing off hubris. And then he raises the stakes again, keeping Bella and Will’s illness to himself, one aware and the other not. Which okay we don’t see a whole lot of evidence for it but it’s heavily implied that he has started to grow bored at the beginning of the show, the Ripper had taken a hiatus and no dinner parties had occurred in some time. Will is a catalyst that drives him out of that, and instead of approaching it with a more drawn out manipulation the way he did with Bedelia or Chiyoh or even to some extent Margot, he immediately places Will in the same sort of do or die situation by calling Hobbs. Hes running off balance from the start and every action he takes, while it may have an air of calculation, is very much not thought out to the degree it should be. He’s essentially drawing up the plans to destroy his own life because he’s faced with the possibility of understanding. He wants it, I would argue he practically needs it, but he can’t allow himself to have it without upheaving everything because he works in extremes. For anyone else, there would be hesitancy and doubt but he doesn’t do either of those. He has full faith in Will from the beginning which is why in Mizumono, he accuses “You would take my life.” first because that’s what he was expecting, planning on. He never addressed his trauma in a meaningful way that didnt bring harm to others or himself, he does not use Bedelia as an actual therapist but rather a sounding board, he has to be aware that the words “Nothing happened to me. I happened.” cannot coexist with his behavior but he says them anyway. He shoulders heavy amounts of blame and unfortunately most of it rightly so because he cannot help himself or stop. Prison for Hannibal was the worst punishment possible and that he accepted it because Will deemed it necessary, shows us again that he continues to carry guilt with him, just not remorse. He’s away of how he hurts what he loves and feels bad about it but not enough to stop. The minute he stops, the minute he has to confront that he could have let himself die instead of eating his sister (in his mind) and he can’t handle that. He needs to have the fantasy of death being a motivator while also being a consequence, he’s driven to drastic actions and thrives there because anything less and he runs the risk of being forced to confront himself with no buffer and he’s hyper aware of that. “Suicide is the enemy.” And it’s one he thinks of often. He has survivor’s guilt and his actions in Mizumono made that ten times worse while also inflicting that same feeling onto Will. It’s also why I think he was so willing to let Will pull them off the cliff, beyond the culmination of everything he wanted, he had been prepared and ready to die since the beginning. His last action was to shield the worst of the fall from Will and then close his eyes, at peace with it.

[callsign-bunnie]

Well I bleached my hair for 1 hours snipped a chunk off for test and dyed it for 3 days in a row(purple one side blue turned green then blue again)

Now

Next FNAF AU(but take a break and drink a lot of water and rest for at least 5+ hours)

I do take breaks, I promise, lol. The whole fic is done and I'm working on other projects rn. (Actually, I'm about to close my ask box so I can answer asks.)

This is FNAF inspired, not FNAF based. (Hence why I took FNAF out of the fandoms list on AO3.) I've made up my own lore and rules though I kept several of the original. If you guys want what I came up with, just ask!

--

Soap lunged for Alex as he saw him grabbed and then dragged back, but no sooner had he done that then his leg had something wrapped around it and he felt himself being dragged into the darkness, screaming before he could help himself.

He managed to twist onto his back and kicked hard at what had grabbed him. It let go and he scrambled to his feet, about to run back to the hallway but then something was moving past him in the darkness, so he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Sheer fucking luck kept him from running into anything and he gasped, sliding to a stop as the lights in the hallway behind him turned on, halfway shielded by something dark and wet covering his left eye. He turned around, watching in horror as Rodolfo was lifted up, kicking and screaming, and then he was carried into one of the party rooms.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Fuck, fuck. Think Johnny, think! He hit his head before jerking back as Roach suddenly jumped up in front of him. “Hi! I’m Roach!”

That one had been Gary’s favorite… 

Roach grabbed at Soap and he jerked back more before he could be grabbed. The rest of the restaurant was still dark and so Soap suddenly lunged forward, shoving at Roach as hard as he could and knocking Roach back on his shell. 

He almost felt guilty as he watched all six of Roach’s limbs wave above him before turning and running off, ducking down and hiding under a table.

“You know I don’t like hide and seek…” 

Soap tensed as he recognized the voice. Ghost… He watched Ghost’s legs, only able to see the outline due to the light in the hallway, walk over to Roach and then Roach was being pulled up and put back on his feet. 

He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Come back out and play… I don’t like hide and seek.”

Soap moved further under the table, touching his head. It burned so bad… He could feel where the skin had split from the impact. 

He knew these tables well. They had three rows of six. He knew because he and Gary used to play hide and seek with them. Simon never had enjoyed that game… 

He jerked and cried out at a sudden crashing noise and then the legs headed in his direction so he quickly scrambled backwards, hiding under the table right next to him.

They had put the tables into a grid. A B C for the three rows. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 for the columns. 

He had slid into A1, where he saw Ghost crouch down and look under. Thankfully, Ghost did not see him until B2 where he’d moved to. 

“Come out and play, Johnny.” 

Soap stiffened at his name. That hadn’t sounded like Ghost’s voice box. It had been low and… rasped and… human. 

“Please don’t be so cruel… Now is not the time for games!” He heard Roach call and Soap tensed at how close his voice was to him.

Ghost stood straight back up and then he went to A2, crouching down and looking, again. Soap remembered how Simon used to play games… He always played in patterns. Soap and Gary had had fun trying to crack them and figure them out.

If Ghost wanted to cover every table, he’d have to go in a zigzag pattern. That meant… B1 was next. Soap took a deep breath and then waited until Ghost was walking to quickly scramble to the right, to B2. He flinched at another crashing noise, realizing they were trying to make him reveal his location.

“I’m not enjoying this game, Johnny.” 

Soap squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard to even muffle his own breathing. He waited for Ghost to crouch down to check B1 and then stand again before quickly rushing out and to A2, which had already been checked. 

“I’M SICK OF THIS GAME, JOHNNY.” 

Soap trembled, recognizing Simon’s voice so easily. 

“Calm down, Ghost! You know it’s not good to get so worked up! What do we do when we start to panic??”

“You’re right, Roach. I shouldn’t get so worked up. I just really don’t like these games!”

Soap pulled his knees up to his chest, rocking himself in an attempt to soothe himself. Deep down, he knew he’d already known they were in there… Maybe that was why he found himself coming back over and over and over. 

Even though he’d seen what happened to them… 

He didn’t save them. He’d followed them down to the basement and… he hadn’t saved them. He should have. He could have. But he didn’t. Now they were going to kill him for it. 

“Please come out and play.” Roach pleaded. “We just want to play.”

No they don’t. They want to punish Soap for being a coward and not helping them. He was sorry… He was sorry… He should have helped them, he was sorry… 

“Please come out… You’re hurting our feelings, you know. That’s not nice.”

Soap shook his head, covering his mouth to stifle his own breathing. Another crashing noise sounded and a sob wracked his body. Fear coated his skin in a slimy film and then sank in and he tensed as he saw both sets of animatronic legs freeze.

“Found you…”

Soap shook his head as he saw Ghost’s legs start in his direction and he tried to move further under the table, but his leg was grabbed before he could and he was dragged out, picked up, and then slammed onto the table, knocking the air out of his lungs. 

He had to take a moment to recover, feeling almost like the world had gone black and white as he stared up at what he remembered to be a very colorful ceiling. Then, the color flooded his vision again as he felt cold mechanical hands wrapped around his arm and he gasped in air, the desperate need to survive returning.

“I’m sorry!” He cried and struggled against Ghost, who was attempting to grab his arms. He brought his legs up and kicked as hard as he could, managing to kick himself up the table and then jumping up, leaping to the next. B2. 

He jerked and turned around, seeing the table go flying across the pizzeria. He didn’t even hesitate, jumping to the next table as Ghost surged forward and put his hands on the table Soap was standing on. It was the next to fly and Soap found himself on B3. 

“Ghost! You need to calm down!”

“You never knew when to stop, Johnny.”

Soap knew Simon was right. He never had. He scrambled to run to the next table, barely managing to make it before the table was also flying across the room and he was on B4. When he tried to jump to B5, he stumbled and fell, hitting his head on the table, right in the same spot.

His vision went blurry and he slumped over, reaching up and touching his skull. It didn’t hurt anymore, but his head just felt so cold…

The fight to survive just drained out of him and he didn’t fight as he was lifted, again, and then he was carried across the pizzeria before being set on the stage. 

This was it…

His head fell backwards and he let out a heavy sob. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He shook his head. “I came back to see you both so many times… I’m sorry… I should have saved you and I didn’t… I hate myself so fucking much… My cancer is back and I’m not going to accept treatment because of what I did…”

“Roach, you have first aid function. His head appears to be bleeding!”

“Yes, Ghost, I do! Let me get the first aid kit out of my chest!”

Soap frowned and lifted his head. Well… he didn’t quite know how animatronics functioned, but he didn’t think they provided first aid before murdering someone… Though, Simon and Gary had always been so odd. 

Ghost held Soap up and then Roach was pulling out a first aid kit from his chest compartment. “On a scale of 1 to 10, please rate your pain!”

Soap blinked at Roach and then reached up, holding his head. “Uh… Uh… 3… The pain went away…”

“That’s not good. You might have a concussion.” Roach then was bandaging and wrapping Soap’s head. “Poor thing! You must have taken quite the tumble!”

Soap stared at Roach. “You were chasing me!” He knew the animatronics were likely on a limited AI but come on!

“You’re the one that hid.” Ghost moved into his vision, smiling. “You know I don’t like hide and seek!”

Soap looked away and then he closed his eyes, groaning and holding his head. God, he just wanted to sleep… He was so exhausted and so tired of this night… He wanted this to be over. “I’m sorry…” He whispered. “I loved you both so much…” He hugged himself and hunched over, tears streaming down his face, again. 

They didn’t respond and a sob wracked his body. “I’m sorry…” He repeated. “You both died and it was my fault because I could have tried to stop him and I didn’t… You both didn’t deserve that…”

Oh the irony… All he’d wanted was a picture with Ghost… Just one last thing to remember the pizzeria by. He’d already had one with Roach because Roach was free roaming, not Ghost. And he’d found two others who’d had some horrible deep attachment to the place, as well.

Of course, no one without a deep attachment likely would have answered that post. He felt horrible for that, too. Rodolfo was going to die, Alex was probably already dead… And it was because Soap had wanted a fucking picture before he died. 

Soap sniffled and looked up as he felt his shoulders pushed and then Ghost was nudging him to lay down. He understood. This was probably it for him. That was okay…

He was too tired to fight it, now. A slow, dull pain had started to flood his skull and he realized that that might kill him if Ghost and Roach didn’t get the chance. He moved so he was lying along the side of the side and reached up, touching Roach’s face. 

The eyes stared at him… Empty. That was okay. 

“I loved you.” Soap murmured. “I know… I was too much but I tried to show you in my own… fucked up way. You were both so good… So much more good than anyone gave you credit for and- That wasn’t fucking fair.” 

Both just stared at him, unmoving. That was okay. 

“It’s okay if you hate me. I hate myself. I hate myself so incredibly bad.” Soap closed his eyes, finally, not wanting to look at them as they killed him. He couldn’t face them. Not really. It was his fault… He deserved this. 

“You should rest! Your head took a beating!” Roach said and Soap softened as he felt his hand touch his face. 

Soap snorted, since that was an understatement. “I think head trauma is the least of my problems, now.” He mumbled, furrowing his brows. 

“Your head took a beating.” Simon sighed and reached up, touching above Soap’s eye. “You should be more careful, Johnny. Gary…”

Gary moved over, already holding a first aid kit. He tsked as he started to bandage Soap’s head and Soap found himself closing his eyes and just melting into the touch. “Why should I? I’m just going to die, anyway. If I die because I fell on a table or because of cancer… Who cares?”

Both were silent and when Soap opened his eyes, he saw a grimace on Gary’s face. Guilt struck his chest and he looked down. Right. He’d been trying not to bring up the cancer, anymore, because he’d realized that he was guilting Simon and Gary into spending time with him. 

He liked spending time with the other two, hell he loved it. He wanted to spend all of the time that he had left with them… 

“Just be more careful, Johnny.” Simon sighed and shook his head. 

Soap winced and nodded. “Okay, Simon…”

Gary finished bandaging his head and then he smiled, touching Soap’s face. ‘All better.’ He signed when he was done. He’d been excited when Soap revealed he knew sign language.

Soap hadn’t told him that he’d only learned for him. “Thank you, Gary.” He reached up and touched the bandaging. Then, he got into his pocket and got out the butterfly figurine he’d found. “I found it…”

Gary’s eyes went big and wide and he took the figurine before immediately going and showing it to Simon, who smiled and nodded. “It’s pretty.”

Gary snorted and then he appeared to cradle the figurine to his chest, melting. Soap thought he was so pretty when he got excited like that.

Simon pulled Gary over and kissed his temple and Soap looked away, jealousy filling his chest. He wasn’t sure which one he was more jealous of. Finally, Soap stood and brushed himself off. “We should eat, I think.”

“Okay.” Simon nodded and stood, helping Gary up as well. “Let’s eat, then.”

Soap opened his eyes, again, seeing that Ghost and Roach were still just staring at him. He shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. He was tired… He was tired and he was done. Oh well, if he was going to die, at least it was here… By them again.

“Roach… Ghost… What are you two up to??”

Soap gasped and jerked to sit upright, recognizing the Red Velveteen Rabbit’s voice, immediately. Oh no… Alex! That’s right! She’d grabbed him!

Even if Soap was ready to die, he couldn’t let his friends die! Not again! Not when he could stop it.

He launched off the stage, screaming when he was caught by Ghost and then he was kicking and fighting, beating at Ghost’s arms as he was put right back on the stage. He decided to go the other direction, dragging himself backwards.

But then, he was grabbed by his ankle and pulled right back. “Naughty!” Roach scolded and he held Soap’s thighs so he couldn’t go anywhere at all. “Stay!”

“No! No! You can kill me but don’t kill my friends! Please!” Soap begged. “I can’t fail, again! I can’t let them die!”

“Soap! Soap! It’s alright!”

Soap went still, immediately, upon hearing Alex’s voice and then Alex was coming out from behind the Red Velveteen Rabbit. He was holding his side and limping but he was very obviously alive.

Alex came over and Soap hopped off the stage, rushing to him and hugging him. “I thought she’d killed you! I thought for sure it was over!” Soap exclaimed, pulling back when he felt Alex wince.

“No,” Alex shook his head, huffing a laugh. “No! We can fix them, Soap! We can bring them back!”

Soap blinked. “What??” 

He stumbled back as he was suddenly tugged and then he looked up as Ghost hugged him from behind. “Back off!”

“Woah…” Alex stumbled back as Roach pushed him slightly. “Calm down, guys.”

“Roach, Ghost, play nice!”

“We don’t like to share!” Roach whined and the Red Velveteen Rabbit, River, tsked. Roach almost appeared to flinch back.

Soap knew she was the mom of the animatronics, meant to keep them in line. “Be nice.” River scolded. 

“Yes, River…” Roach and Ghost both said and then Soap was released.

This was… surreal. Somehow, this was more terrifying than when Soap thought he was going to die. “What do you mean we can fix them?”

“We have to put their heads on the bodies. It’ll put their souls back into the new bodies…” Alex sighed. “I know it sounds crazy, but… so do the souls being put into the animatronics in the first place!”

Soap… didn’t want to believe Alex. But… He remembered Ghost saying his name. It had been so distinctly Simon and… He knew it had to be him in there. “We could… bring them back? Fix them?”

Alex nodded. “My Mama is going to help us.” He gestured to River. Huh, it was odd hearing a full grown 19 year old man say that sentence and Alex said it with the perfect cadence to not sound completely ridiculous, too. “She said that the others won’t fight us on it.”

Soap looked up at Ghost and Roach, who both smiled at him. “Won’t!” Roach nodded. “You’re going to fix us!”

This was absurd. “You were just the one saying this was all bullshit and crazy!” Soap cried. “Now you want me to believe that we can take our dead friends’ souls and put them into new bodies! No! That doesn’t make sense!”

“Soap! You saw Blue! You saw Frank Riley! None of this makes any fucking sense! I want my mom back! I want Kyle back!” Alex shook his head. 

Speaking of, Gaz suddenly came into the dining room. “Hi!” He came over and Soap found himself flinching back, involuntarily. Both him and Alex being surrounded by them did nothing to help his nerves.

“No. No, I don’t like this…” Soap shook his head. “It sounds too good to be true… How would this even be possible?”

“I don’t know.” Alex sighed and then his shoulders drop. “Please, Soap? I can’t do it alone… Don’t you want to bring Simon and Gary back?”

Soap again looked up at Ghost and Roach. Their eyes… were so empty. Even with their smiles, they both just didn’t look alive. He wanted their real smiles back. He wanted them in bodies to hold again. “Yeah… Yeah I do… Alright, let’s do it.”

Alex relaxed and then he nodded. “Perfect. Let's go find Rodolfo. Uh… He’s a little… jumpy. Maybe Ghost and Roach, at least, should stay here? Probably Gaz, too.”

Gaz frowned. “Why me??”

“I don’t want to overwhelm him.” 

Soap made a face at how human Alex was treating the animatronics, now. God, this was all so hard to wrap his brain around… First, the idea of them even being alive in the first place and now… Now this? No, he didn’t like the idea of this, but… He supposed it was worth a shot. 

Gaz seemed to almost pout but then he was climbing up on stage and then sitting down, criss cross. “I’m useless.”

“Now, now, Gaz,” River chuckled, “just because you’re not helpful now, doesn’t mean you’re useless.”

Soap shook his head. He hated that life lessons were programmed into the AI. It just felt… almost comical. He yelped as he was grabbed and hugged by Ghost again. “He can’t go! He’ll play hide and seek again!”

“Ghost!” River scolded and Ghost only shook his head.

Soap gasped as he was held tighter, the grip almost painful around his body. “Ghost please… I’ll just stay… You’re hurting me…” He pleaded and then he relaxed as he was released, rubbing where he’d been grabbed. 

Alex winced. “River and I will get him, then. Just… stay here…”

Soap nodded, trying not to focus on his anxiety at being left alone with three animatronics. He’d be okay… he’d be okay… 

Telling himself this over and over did not refrain him from almost puking as Alex and River left. Immediately, he turned and backed away from Ghost and Roach. Ghost stepped forward and then Roach stopped him.

Soap hiccupped again and took deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm so he didn’t run, again. His head was hurting so bad that he did not think he would get far and they’d made it clear they’d chase him, again. 

“Why don’t you like hide and seek?” Soap asked, hoping the AI had a programmed response.

“You know why!” Ghost answered. 

A chill ran down Soap’s spine. 

“Simooonnnn…” 

Soap flinched and looked across the room where Simon had hid behind the stairs, covering his mouth so Frank couldn’t hear his breathing. 

“Come on, Si. Don’t you want to hang out with your dad?”

Soap could see the shine of the knife in Frank’s hand, perfectly pristine and clean… Frank was in the Blue Velveteen Rabbit’s suit, too, which frightened Soap more than it should. He’d gotten called a giant baby for still being quick to startle, though the doctors said it was because of the treatments. 

Simon glared at his father through the stairs and Soap flinched back as Frank came over to the table, hiding further under it. He’d followed Gary and Simon down here… but he didn’t know where Gary was. 

“Alright, alright, Simon. You won. I can’t find you. It’s your turn to play Seeker.”

Soap looked at Simon, pleading for him not to fall for it. Luckily, Simon didn’t move for a moment before Soap watched him fade further into the darkness. 

Frank continued to stalk around the room and Soap watched him look into the corners and behind boxes. Then, Frank’s head turned to the left and Soap gasped, jerking backwards as Frank’s eyes met him. “Hello, Johnny. Looks like I found you.”

Soap scrambled back to try to get out from the table but his leg was grabbed and he was dragged out, instead. “Stop!” Soap cried and kicked as hard as he could, managing to grab onto the table leg as he was yanked. 

Frank only yanked harder and Soap was forced to let go, instead trying to dig his nails into the cement ground. The only thing it did was hurt his fingers as Frank grabbed him and picked him up. “Hello, Johnny!” Frank said and made Soap look at him. “Look, Simon, I found your friend!”

Soap hit Frank in the throat, crumbling as he was dropped, and he scrambled to get away, making the mistake of looking at the stairs.

Of looking at Simon. 

But, ultimately, it didn’t matter anyway, because a moment later, Simon was launching out from under the stairs, attacking Frank as he had started to move to the stairs and hitting him over and over again. “Leave him alone!” Simon screamed.

Frank thrust his hand up and Soap found himself screaming as he saw Simon stiffen. Simon looked down and so did Soap, seeing blood start to drip down his stomach. Frank shoved Simon off and then he was over him, shoving the knife down into his chest and yanking it down.

Soap scrambled back under the table, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to focus on the wet squishing sound. 

“Shh…” Frank was murmuring. “It won’t last.”

Soap hunched over, throwing up, and sobbing. When he heard Frank approaching the table again, he shook his head. “No, no, no-”

“Oh, shut up.” Something thudded on the table above him and Soap looked over, noting that Simon was no longer on the ground. Soap realized Frank must have put him on the table above Soap.

Then screaming could be heard, again, and Soap jerked his head to look in the direction of the stairs. He recognized Gary’s shoes, almost immediately. They were high top converse that Soap had helped sew Butterfly wings into the backs of. 

“Go, Gary! Go back up the stairs!” Soap cried, going to the edge of the table. He cried out as he was kicked, hard, and held his side, slumping over. 

Gary didn’t move and Soap looked up, able to just see Gary’s face. He looked frozen in terror. 

“Don’t go, Gary. Come on… Simon wants you here…” Frank said.

Soap shook his head. “NO! Go!” He was kicked again, the force causing him to fall completely over, landing in his own puddle of bile. The smell overtook his senses and he gagged, trying to sit back up, but the kick had taken a lot out of his body. He hadn’t had much to begin with.

Finally Gary moved, but he moved down the stairs and not up them. “No! No!” Soap pleaded, dragging himself back up to his knees. “No!”

Frank and Gary both appeared to ignore him and Frank took Gary’s hand, guiding him over to the table. Soap tried to scramble away as Frank crouched down and then he was being dragged back out, by the back of his shirt like a cat.

“See, Gary? It’s all okay.”

Gary was staring at Simon’s body, touching his face.

Soap shook his head. “It’s not, you fucking bastard! Let us go!” He struggled against Frank’s grasp on his shirt. “Let us go! Let us go!”

“No.” Frank shook his head. “No. You’re lucky you don’t fit into Roach’s costume.”

Fit?? Why would he need to fit?? Soap knew he was kind of husky, despite his cancer, but what the fuck did that have to do with anything?! He tried to jerk away from Frank, wanting to just grab Gary and get the fuck out of there. He knew Simon would understand. 

Gary had tears streaming down his face and Soap’s heart broke. “Poor little Gary… Don’t you want to stay with Simon?”

Gary looked at Soap and Soap shook his head. “No… Gary don’t…”

But, Gary looked up at Frank and nodded, anyway. Soap screamed. “No! NO!” He tried harder and harder to break away, but it didn’t work, because the harder he struggled, the more energy he lost. 

Frank threw him to the side and then moved around to Gary. Soap’s eyes widened as he watched Gary put his head back and close his eyes. Frank then put the knife to his throat and dragged it across. Gary didn’t even move and Soap couldn’t move either.

Gary slumped over when it was done, his head falling on Simon’s stomach.

Soap started to shake, his body trying to decide if he needed to throw up or scream again. He didn’t get a chance to do either, as Frank moved over and shoved him back under the table. “You wanted to be under there so bad. So stay under there.”

Soap couldn’t have fought him if he wanted to. All he could do was think about how sorry he was that he didn’t manage to stop Frank. He should have. He tried.

Soap sat on the floor, covering his face. “Why?? Why didn’t you run?!” Soap demanded, looking through his fingers at Roach. “I told you to run!”

Roach just stared at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?!” Soap shook his head. But he understood. In some fucked up way, Gary had spared himself from the guilt that Soap had felt every fucking day of his life. 

He doubted animatronics could feel guilt. 

Roach sat in front of him. “I think you could use a hug!”

“Oh fuck you.” Soap shook his head. “You two just spent like thirty minutes chasing me and-” He slumped his shoulders. “It’s not the same! It’s not right! You’re some plastic fucking robot!”

Roach didn’t change, staring at him. “I think you could use a hug!”

Soap shook his head. “No. I don’t want a fucking hug.”

Roach’s arms dropped. “Oh.”

“Don’t be too upset, Roach! Some kids don’t want hugs and that’s okay! Consent is important!” Gaz spoke and Soap watched him almost appear to twitch as he said so. Ah… He was starting to wonder if those little spiels were voluntary. Probably not. 

Soap shook his head and took a deep breath. “Does it… hurt? To be like that?”

None of the animatronics answered for a small moment. Finally, Ghost crouched down. “Yes.”

Soap flinched, not liking the idea of that. “I’m sorry… I wish I had stopped it.”

None of them answered. Soap looked up at Gaz. “You didn’t deserve to die for what your father did.” 

Gaz just stared at him before tilting his head and smiling. “It’s okay! Sometimes mistakes are made! Blue had consequences!”

Soap cringed, remembering the sight of Blue… that rotten grinning jaw. The smell hitting his face… “Did Frank put himself in Blue’s body?”

Ghost grinned. “No.”

Soap frowned and looked at Ghost. “What?”

“I did!” Ghost laughed. “Blue knew what would happen!”

Soap cringed, unsure what that meant. But, he didn’t get the chance to ask because then he was looking up as Alex and River came back. 

Rodolfo was on Alex’s back, looking just completely exhausted. “He’s not going to be able to help us but River said it’ll be fine. He’s barely awake.” Alex murmured, sighing. 

Rodolfo shook his head. “I’m awake…” He mumbled, but his accent was so thick that Soap almost couldn’t make it out, and he was laying his head on Alex’s shoulder.

Soap snorted. “Right.” He muttered. “Let’s just get this out of the way.” He finally stood again. “How are they going to get into the basement? The sensors will stop them.”

“You’ll have to take them apart, first!” River smiled. “Don’t be afraid, it’ll be okay.”

“Are they okay with this?” Soap blinked, frowning, and looking at the three. He became aware that Mateo had not followed Alex, Rodolfo, and River, and that’s when he noticed the Mateo head tucked under River’s arm. Oh. 

“It’s okay! We’re ready!” Gaz beamed. He scooted to the edge of the stage and then he put his hands on the bottom of his jaw before just pushing up and pop-

Soap stumbled back, covering his mouth, immediately as Gaz’s head just popped off. Ghost was quick to rush forward and catch Gaz’s head as it fell and Soap could only stumble back more, unable to process that. Gaz’s body fell back, hitting the stage with a thunk. “What the fuck?!” Soap finally exclaimed, catching Gaz’s head as it was tossed to him and trying not to make a sound with how heavy it was. 

“They need the heads for the ritual.” Alex explained and… that answered nothing.

“So he just ripped his own head off?!” Soap stared down at the Gaz head in his hands, which was still grinning, its eyes now closed. It felt… wrong. Like he was holding a real head. “I don’t… I don’t know if I want to do this… This feels unnatural…”

“It’s okay,” Roach assured. “We’ll be okay! Please, you can do it!”

Soap looked at Roach. Please. 

He took a deep breath and then nodded. “Fine…” If he didn’t do this, he’d be effectively letting them down again and he couldn’t do that… “Let’s just… do this, then. I think the sun is starting to rise.”

“Fuck. The opener comes in at 7.” Alex cringed, looking at the windows of the store where very faint orange light could be seen. “We need to hurry. They’ll call the cops if they come in.”

“Then let’s fucking go!”

--

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[philtstone]

Sam and AJ and Cass, 29

#29 -- a story that never gets told

a prequel of sorts to my belovedly unhinged magical realism au, the original of which can be read on ao3 by clicking here. i wrote this prompt in random snippets on the subway, so hopefully its coherent. it kind of got away from me, but im leaning into the multiple indulged elements. most importantly, to answer zainabs oft asked question, "is this the one where he can turn into a whole ass wolf?" yes. yes it is.

Sam, as he has told his sister many a time, could learn — hypothetically — to be a great parent if he wanted to. Instead, he nobly chooses to fight for what’s right. This involves on occasion saving innocent lives amidst the unexpected collapse of Kingdoms, and more often petty magical crime, like that idiot who started going around stealing peoples sheep by herding them into his backyard, which he’d doused in a layer of magically un-solvent superglue. Thank God for Clint’s solvent arrows, which is a sentiment Sam brings up smugly whenever his sister expresses disdain towards the usefulness of magical items in completing household chores.

All of that was before Steve vanished into thin air, leaving Sam with custody of an ancient shield and a perpetually moody shapeshifter.

Hypotheticals are abounding just now. Hypothetically, Steve could just be on one long spontaneous vacation that he even logged in the shared magical calendar, which Bucky inconveniently misplaced on that last trek from North country down here. Hypothetically, Steve could have been kidnapped by a unicorn — those things are known to fuck with you just cause they can — and is currently being held in a magically enforced glade and subjected to a game of 21 riddles. Hypothetically, Steve could just be dead. Smallpox, common cold, unanticipated ogre attack on side of road. If Sam might say so himself, even the best of ‘em can get jumped sometimes; ain’t no shame in it.

“If Steve was dead, why hasn’t his ghost shown up to tell us that?” Bucky asks. He has elaborate theories on the matter, half of which involve the unicorn. The other half involve deep and cutting betrayal. Or murder.

“Steve Rogers did not just up and decide to play double agent,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. Bucky is never truly serious about this. He brings up potential intrigue in every conversation purely out of habit. And, Sam supposes begrudgingly, experience.

“So, murder.”

“Maybe ghost Steve is havin’ too much of a good time,” Sam says. “Remember that fae chick he was sweet on, and they got separated decades ago? Got him all stoic and single tear-y when her name came up? Carried her picture in his dumb little locket? She could be dead. They could be partying it up in the afterlife.”

“Bastard,” Bucky says grumpily, about Steve. “I’d tell you guys, if I died without you knowing.”

“Accidentally died,” insists Sam.

Bucky scowls. “I maintain we haven’t ruled out the double agent angle.”

“Oh my God!” says Sam, and throws his hands up in the air.

They have this exchange multiple times.

Sam sees the merit in the murder angle, but doesn’t necessarily like acknowledging it out loud. First of all, admitting Bucky might be right is always annoying, so he avoids doing it. Second, that shit’s bad juju, especially down here; you never know when a shadow man is listening in.

Just in case Ghost Steve really was murdered and forgot to tell them, though, Sam decides to conduct some scientific experiments. He makes Steve’s favourite gumbo (Sam’s mom’s recipe, of course – no one else’s can hold a candle) and bangs the pot lid loudly over the stove in case there are any spirits around to notice. He flips through Steve’s private sketchbook, left behind in Sam’s napsack — another clear evidence that he hasn’t turned coat — and makes childish faces at all the nude figures to trigger Steve’s artistic sensibilities. Then he leaves it out where the kids could find it, to trigger Steve’s moral sensibilities. 

Bucky takes more extreme measures. He goes out into the yard and yells, “Hey, jerk! You ever thought about what a basket case I’d be without you here? You don’t even got the decency to explain yourself?” after dark, into the droopy shapes of the mangrove trees. 

“Is he gonna start howling at the moon?” Sarah asks Sam one evening, though not unkindly, while they do the dishes and watch Bucky go at it through the small kitchen window.

Sam doesn’t say anything. Privately, he kind of feels like doing the same. 

Then, about three months later, after a near-coup and the revelation of multiple conspiracies and a big old honking blockade being put up all through South country, the Wakandans show up. With – holy shit, Sam thinks – a message from Steve.

“Uncle Sam, you’ve already told us that story.”

Okay, so speaking of parenting. Yeah, yeah, Sam would be a great parent in some alternate universe of events decidedly different from this one. In this universe, getting his nephews to bed at a reasonable hour when only this afternoon, a bunch of fancy people in red armour were holding a super secret outlaw meeting in the barn is proving harder than it looks. Sam almost wishes he was dealing with old Paste-Pot Pete and those sheep again.

“Uh, no I have not,” says Sam. “This version has added embellishments. The Wakandan King never challenged me to a duel, that was all Bucky’s bad luck.” 

“We’re calling ritual vengeance duels now?” asks Bucky dryly. 

“I’m just sayin’, I’m making a bunch of this up here. I am exercising creativity. Story version number one didn’t have any flying dwarves in it.”

Bucky is sitting in the doorway to the kids’ bedroom and attempting to de-encrust his favourite boots, which went through the ringer a bit on their way down through the bayou to Sarah’s three months ago. That was just after this all started. A lot’s changed since then.

Like the fact that Bucky is even in this house, cleaning boots. Or Sam’s newly discovered inability to lull little boys to sleep via adrenaline filled adventure stories while their mother takes a care package to the neighbours’ pregnant daughter in law. Sarah was very excited to see the newest in maternity fashion, which apparently Marlene had been sporting in the village all week, purchased from traveling dressmakers who might have had fae blood. Those guys always do know how to cut a cloak well. 

Bucky sniffs loudly at Sam’s defense and pulls an exaggerated face, raising the poor boot up to eye level to inspect it. “Maybe you’re just bad at telling stories,” he says finally.

While AJ and Cass giggle like the traitors they are, Sam makes a loud offended noise.

“Alright,” he says. “Fine. Fine. You know what? Just for that, I’m telling the story of how all of Petruski’s sticky sheep started followin’ your fluffy white wolf ass around.”

AJ dissolves into even harder giggles. Cass says, “Not the sheep story Uncle Sam! All you do in that one is complain!” and Bucky says, more primly than he has any right to, “I was consciously being as non threatening as possible, Samuel.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, “so non threatening they thought you were one of ‘em.”

AJ is really starting to wheeze now, so Sam hauls him into his arms to disrupt the hilarity before it gets medical. Cass brings his pillow up over his head like a crown to smother his own laughter. And Bucky winks, before – in a devastating play – letting out a quiet, plaintive pair of baas in quick succession.

Routines like this one are becoming more and more real. More and more comfortable, Sam thinks, amidst the boys’ shrieks of laughter. Being here, being in this home (their home – The home?) it fills his heart with something warm and solid and unmoving. Like he has put down a heavy load. Sometimes it is hard to imagine what is so important that makes it worth picking up sword and shield and leaving this behind. Without this, where would any of them even be?

It’s just, that thought doesn’t stop the rest of the world from banging on their door sometimes. 

Just look at Steve’s cryptic as hell note. The me you know isn’t dead. Seriously. What the fuck. Sam almost wishes he really was dealing with a unicorn.

He settles on telling the story of how he and Steve once met that tiny shrinking guy and between Captain Rogers’ knightly loyalty to his friends, some of Redwing’s more heroic moments, and the addition of the brilliant mage-princess who gifted Bucky the enchantment for his arm, both boys are appeased.

“Uncle Sam,” Cass says, sleepily, towards the tail end of the story. “’S no fair that magic skips a generation. I wanna help save the kingdom like you do.”

Sam quiets, his hand stilling where it was in the middle of brushing over AJs forehead. AJ is already fast asleep. Knocked out cold, snoring and everything. 

Thing is, Sam’s brand of magic is pretty limited — some gimmick, even, nowhere close to what his Titi had. All Sam’s good for, practically speaking, is translating messages from carrier pigeons. But it got him into this bigger world, tangled him up in it. 

Sam can see, even though Bucky’s head is down, that his friend’s expression has taken on a slight grimness.

“Cass. Hey.” Sam knuckles the boy’s nose gently. “What do you mean, like me. You know how I keep this old kingdom safe? I help your mama do the dishes.”

“Uncle Sam,” Cass says, rolling his sleepy thick-lashed eyes. 

Sam sighs. “Cass. Just because it doesn’t make for a good story doesn’t mean it isn’t important.”

More important, even. Running this old house, and its garden (with all those gnomes, little pains-in-the-ass) and its boat.

“Muh huh,” Cass manages. And then he has drifted off, the side of his face squished against the pillow.

Sam and Bucky quietly relocate to the kitchen, where Redwing is awaiting them with a new note and a dead mouse.

“Jesus,” Bucky mutters.

“You better not be about to get in a piss fight with a kestrel when there are sleeping children in the next room.”

As if on cue, Redwing flaps over lands happily on Bucky’s shoulder, startling him. The little bell on his foot jingles, and Bucky glares, which does nothing to deter the little bird’s impulse to start throwing up what appears to be more mouse. 

Bucky stands perfectly still and looks awfully close to raptorcide. 

Dude, can you like, be normal for once, Sam says, to the bird. Redwing fluffs out all of his feathers in Bucky’s face in response. 

“I don’t get into piss fights with your kestrel, Sam,” Bucky says, gritting each word out with individuality. 

Redwing twitters happily. 

He’ll come around eventually, Sam replies. He scoops the bird up in both hands and re-situates him on his own arm, and begins untying the little package wired to Redwing’s foot. Out loud, he adds, “You know, he wants to be your friend so badly –”

“He’s the one who chews through my best leather breeches twice a month –” Bucky cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath and reaching over to fumble the parchment scroll out of Sam’s hand while its messenger hops in one place and nuzzles the crown of his feathery head into Sam’s armpit. Sam’s poorly concealed smile fades when Bucky openly frowns.

“Note’s from Nakia,” Bucky mutters, tapping the amulet bracelet on his right wrist against the similar shape of beaded stone etched into the scroll’s covering as Sam strokes Redwing’s head. 

“It’s – what?”

“What what.”

“From another dimension,” Bucky reads aloud, looking increasingly incredulous. 

“What?” 

“You already said that.” Sam rolls his eyes. Bucky makes a face at the scroll. “Always gotta be another fuckin’ gimmick. Well. She’s got a guy to decode it.”

“Didn’t she cast the spell?” asks Sam, who is still processing the dimension thing. As in, like, different from their own?

Is that where Steve is?

“Yeah, but only to keep anyone else from decoding it. The bracelet itself already had a message stored in it.” 

“Beyond Steve’s disembodied voice materializing outta nowhere the first time I touched that thing to prove he hasn’t kicked the bucket.”

“Which,” Bucky starts, “for the record –”

“Was not your theory.”

Bucky frowns harder. Refocuses. “Yes. The bracelet, which was clearly a magical object enchanted to respond to your touch –”

“Could’a been our touch, you never held it before I did –”

“Fine, sure, our touch – double enchantment. This thing is stolen, and someone – my guess is Steve – managed to layer another goddamn spell on it before sending it our way.”

Sam sighs, staring at the gleaming dishes in the drying rack. A box of Arm and Magical Hammer’s peroxide sits orange and to the side. Maybe this is why Sarah refuses to use any of the handy dandy domestic enchantments he brings home for her. 

Because magic’s a pain in the ass.

“So?” says Sam.

“Uh, yeah. She’s got a guy to decode it …” Bucky grimaces, “on the other side of the river.”

Oh. Oh. Yeah, that’s gonna be rough.

“I can’t go through a GRC checkpoint,” Sam says. Redwing makes a mournful sound of agreement. Bucky is still turning the note over and over as if maybe reading it upside down will change its mystifying contents. 

“They’d recognize your beautiful knightly face,” he agrees, reciting Sam’s proffered explanation. “And then search all your bags and spook your horse. You know, she’s way too sensitive.”

“Clara ain’t sensitive, she’s emotionally intelligent. There’s a difference,” Bucky mutters something about Sam busting out his inner kingdom social worker lingo on them and Sam adds, “and you can go through a GRC checkpoint even less, by the way.”

“To be fair,” Bucky says, “they have kinda fucked up my nose in all those wanted posters. Maybe they wouldn’t recognize me.”

They both sit down at the table, resigned. It’s a sticky problem. Sam supposes, as Bucky pulls his favourite dagger out and begins flipping it in a broody manner, that they could take Sharon’s smuggler’s detour behind the wall, but she’d ask too many questions. Sending Redwing on his own is too risky (Sam admits, begrudgingly and in the privacy of his own mind). Clint’s roped into a local problem with a gang of overall-wearing gnomes, Bruce has started teaching a yoga of ogres class, even Joaquin just set up shop marketside selling his scroll encryption services … Sam’s stomach growls, and the lingering smell of spiced rice hits his nose. Sarah’s left a potfull on the stove, for them, probably. She blusters plenty, has real right to be angry plenty, and has a mean right hook, but she loves him. And she’s a lot tougher than she looks, Sam’s come to realize. Kept this whole village alive over the years with her caring, and even after they set up the blockades she charmed the border officers better than Sam or Bucky ever could.

Sam clicks his tongue against his teeth and says, “Huh.”

“What,” says Bucky.

“Lemme run a hypothetical by you.”

“Oh no.” Bucky rubs a finger over the bridge of his nose. “You always do this to me. I started like that once –”

“And have had many terrible no good get Sam’s ass in trouble plans since, brother.” Sam crosses his arms; Rewind flaps over to his little perch by the bookshelf in deference. “Hypothetically, you don’t have to look like yourself. Right?”

Bucky looks at him warily. “Well … no.”

“And … hypothetically –”

“Sam …”

“If a familiar person, say … the nice lady who used to take her gumbo to the community house every week. Was to have that bracelet in her box the next time she went –”

“You wanna send your sister through the woods on her own in this economy?” Bucky interrupts, baffled.  

Sam lifts his chin. Raises his eyebrows. Wags his head a little bit. Chirp, says Redwing from across the room, which Sam might roughly translate to it’s not rocket science, pal.

It takes Bucky a moment to get it, but when it clicks, it’s obvious.

“Oh, no,” he says, a slow horror growing in his face. “No. No, no, no, no way. I refuse, Sam.”

“I haven’t asked anything yet!” Sam says, very mildly put out.

Bucky levels the pointy end of the dagger at him. “No. You’re not entrusting me as the sole keeper of your sister’s safety in the wilderness!”

Sam leans back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “And who the hell else am I gonna entrust as the sole keeper of my sister’s safety in the wilderness?” Bucky makes a disbelieving little cawing noise, like a sad crow, to which Sam adds, deliberate: “Come on, Buck. Be serious.”

Bucky does not answer, as he seems to go through twelve different emotions at once, silently. Sam, who can acknowledge at sword-point that this is maybe a little mean of him, given Bucky’s profound loyalty to his friends and poorly-concealed devotion to said sister (hmph), gives him a minute. Finally, Bucky manages, 

“Anyone! Someone who didn’t spend the last eighty years magically entrapped by a cabal of fascist wizards in the body of a murderous rabid animal!” 

He waves his free hand, which was previously clutched in his hair for something to do. He’d look a bit wild if he didn’t look so thoroughly mundane sitting there in his shirts with his boots off. 

Well, okay. The knife’s a little intense. But it’s not like Sarah’s kitchen isn’t stacked with em.

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay, first of all. Rabid is just flat out inaccurate.”

“Sam,” Bucky grinds out.

“I’m just sayin’,” Sam says. “You’re not diseased. And like, present day wolf you can even be kinda cute. You seen how fluffy you are? Those sheep definitely did.”

Bucky actually growls at him.

“That doesn’t actually dispute my point,” says Sam, “which is that this, right here, is objectively our best plan.”

“I won’t do it.”

“I’m asking you, Bucky.”

“It’s a terrible plan!”

“Says the guy who only ever comes up with the most unhinged plans ever!”

They glare at each other, for a prolonged, stone-headed moment. Sam thinks that next time he tells the kids a bedtime story, he should include a Mexican standoff somewhere in there. Then Bucky raises the knife again, very very slowly.

“Only if Sarah says yes.”

“Which,” Sam agrees, “is extremely unlikely. If magic could be wrapped up in a tiny little football, she’d probably drop kick that thing into the Mississippi like a quarterback.”

Marginally, Bucky’s face relaxes.

“Yeah,” he says, and now Sam is starting to feel some relief too, because really, what the hell is he thinking? Sending his baby sister out into the wilderness so they can all uncover some great conspiracy … “Yeah. Yeah, okay. If she says yes, I’ll do it.”

And then, of course, she does.

[ariadnelives]

Chapter 21 - The Rug Pulled Out

Missed a chapter? Catch up here!!

“The hack is complete,” Ariadne said, “we have a lock on her receiving pad. Ghostrunner, Vigil, standby.”

“Standing by,” Ghostrunner said. She was buzzing with excitement and anxiety. This operation needed to be timed perfectly.

Ghostrunner and Vigil would teleport onboard the Nameless' flagship mere moments before the EMP went off. A second too early, and their unauthorized teleport would be flagged and their cover blown. If they were a second too late, the ship would be disabled along with the receiving pad, causing Ghostrunner and Vigil to be torn to atoms on arrival. They couldn't even use the stasis field trick, because once the ship's power was offline, there was no way to pinpoint a safe location to teleport them to, and Ariadne was not about to risk putting Ghostrunner through a wall or out into open space.

Ariadne had briefly considered sending a larger strike force to invade the ship straightaway, but there were over 10,000 soldiers on her flagship. Even with Pilar's power armor and the whole of Tontine Division, they would be quickly overpowered, and besides, the Nameless would rather blow the ship to hell and go down with it than allow them to get close to her.

This would only work if the Nameless believed the true action was on the ground. She had to see Ariadne and Pilar fighting on the front lines, so that Vigil and Ghostrunner's mission would allow them to strike. Ghostrunner and Vigil each carried a pack containing a collapsible Teleportal gate and a shielded power pack. When the Nameless was busy overseeing a ground war, Spacebreather's forces would slip onboard her ship, capture her, bring her back to the station to finally try her for her crimes, and put her to death.

“Remember, your safety is my number one priority,” Ariadne said. “I trust you enough to let you handle this danger, but that doesn't mean I want you taking unnecessary risks. If things go south, you use that Teleportal to get to safety, and activate the failsafe.”

“Yes, Captain,” Ghostrunner and Vigil said. The failsafe was a function unique to this Teleportal gate– a massive explosive payload, large enough to take out the Nameless' whole ship. This way, no one could follow Ghostrunner and Vigil to the safe zone.

“I love you, Ghostrunner,” Ariadne said, putting her hands on Ghostrunner's shoulders. “Be safe.”

“I love you too, mom,” Ghostrunner said. Ariadne smiled.

***

For the first time in centuries, Mars had no civilian population. Blue had done her job exquisitely– all of the Martian bio-domes had been teleported to the surface of the Oort Hypersphere, a legendary megastructure hidden deep within the Oort cloud, leaving only hollow glass shells, with a hologram of the cities projected within, behind.

Chief Magistrate Santiago had asked Blue how she'd hidden such a massive teleportation signal, or found the energy to power the holograms, and she'd simply responded “You want to know how I do my shit, either come back with a warrant or throw me a bone. You know, pole the electorate.”

Santiago didn't quite have the words to respond to this, so he just replied “I'm flattered, but I'm married.”

“'Married' is just a number,” Blue replied flatly.

Santiago dropped the subject.

On the surface of the Oort hypersphere, the Martian people showed their trademark aggressive hospitality, even though they were the guests and the Oort were their hosts. Pete had done his job as Liaison very well, even if he hadn't expected to have such a job, and the people of Mars were out in full force, mostly hosting block parties and admiring the beauty of the stars from the edge of the solar system.

“So this has been out here for what, four, five hundred years?” An old, friendly man named Alan said, flipping a piece of chicken on his grill.

“You got nice fingers,” Father Y replied.

Alan flipped a bratwurst. “Thanks,” he said nervously, and to break the tension, added “I've had them since I was a boy!”

“I'll buy 'em off you for fifty dollars,” Father Y offered.

“I think I'll pass, for now,” Alan said, “but thank you!”

On the surface of Mars, five hundred thousand Earth marines and one hundred thousand Martian marines gazed up at the sky and watched as 50 fully armed battleships came into view. They were barely discernible shapes, they were so far away, but each of them carried over 10,000 troops. The Rizzo Army had become the largest mercenary force in the system.

The Mercs that Sweettalk had recruited only numbered about a thousand, and some of them were beginning to question why they'd agreed to this.

One of them, a beefy loudmouth who asked everyone to call him The Cleaner but who everyone just called Bill, looked around at the hundreds of thousands of marines surrounding him and wondered if he really couldn't increase his prize payout by eliminating some of his own teammates. They'd all been given Oort rifles, which had been modified to fire ballistic projectiles, but did not seem to have a clip or anywhere for bullets to be loaded in, and they'd been assured they wouldn't run out of ammunition. They had spent the morning shooting rocks and cans to test the rifles out, so he knew they worked. He pointed his rifle at a teammate and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Huh, Bill thought, guess that short girl was telling the truth.

Tontine Division would have to win their prize fair and square: their guns wouldn't fire if an ally was in the crosshairs.

“I saw that,” said the big, hulking figure in power armor with a gun mounted on one arm and a crystal blade on the other. “Try it again and you'll have a new career as a blunt instrument.”

A smaller figure in lavender armor scuttled behind her on spindly mechanical spider-legs. The lavender figure nodded at the power armor user, and held up three fingers to count down until the EMP went off.

The basic functions of their armor– movement, weaponry, and life support– would be unaffected, but all higher functions– primarily their HUD and targeting systems– would all go dark in three, two…

***

The Nameless stood at the head of the Bridge as her flagship approached the upper atmosphere of Mars. It was finally happening.

“I can feel her,” the Nameless said. “That mind. Ariadne is on the planet's surface. She thinks we don't know about the Earth forces. She thinks we're unprepared.”

“She underestimated me again,” Nicks said.

“Wait,” the Nameless said, “she's going to–”

Just then, the instruments all seemed to spring to life, and cut out entirely, along with the lights.

The Nameless smiled, as the emergency lights flickered back on.

“Looks like they hit us with an EMP,” one of the soldiers replied. “We're down to emergency power. Everything's down, we're just floating in space.”

“You were right,” Nicks pointed out, “they really would be dumb enough to take down their own defenses just to gamble on the element of surprise.”

“Idiots,” the Nameless said, “I overestimated her. Using the same trick twice, like we wouldn't be prepared for it. Send an order to the other ships to load everybody into the drop pods. Send down as much gear as possible, and convert the pods into bunkers on arrival.”

“Yes ma'am,” the soldier replied, “we'll–”

“Shut up,” The Nameless said. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what, ma'am?” The soldier asked.

The Nameless shot him in the face, and he crumpled to the floor.

“Nicks?”

“Here boss,” Nicks replied.

“Could anybody have gotten onboard?” The Nameless asked her. “Any unauthorized teleports?”

“No way to know,” Nicks said, “all our instruments are scrambled.”

“She's here,” the Nameless explained. “I can feel her slipping through the ducts. Ghostrunner is onboard, and she brought a friend.”

“Soldiers!” Nicks barked, “fan out and find–”

“No!” The Nameless cut her off. “She's got an escape route and a bomb. At the first sign we're onto her, she'll blow us all to hell. You–”

She gestured at a nearby soldier who was about the same height and build as Nicks with her pistol. “Trade armor with Nicks. You–”

She gestured at another nearby soldier, and said, “help me into this dead guy's armor.”

They quickly suited up and slipped into a back corridor that led all the way to the ship's aft docking bay. As she slipped out, she gave the order: “The crew of this ship is the last line of defense should the ground forces fail. Betray no sign that we know there's an infiltrator onboard: we'll deal with that personally. Focus on getting this ship online again and then make our retreat.”

The door to the corridor slid shut behind them.

“We can't get out of here,” Nicks said, “your fighter will be down to emergency power too.”

“I expected them to pull something like this,” the Nameless said. “Our guards on their station didn't have an exit strategy for an EMP. I knew better than to make that mistake. As we speak, all emergency power on this ship is flowing into my fighter. We have two minutes until it's ready to fly, and five until they notice what we're doing.”

“All emergency power?” Nicks said, “even life support?”

“It'll take everything to get us out of here before anyone can stop us,” the Nameless said.

“Libs, there's ten thousand souls on board. They'll die if we–”

“I'd kill a hundred thousand more if it takes out Ghostrunner,” the Nameless hissed. “Do you want to live or do you want to stay here and die with her?!”

Nicks actually found herself disgusted, but did not want to die, and followed the Nameless through the corridor and to the ship's docking bay, where sure enough, the Nameless' personal fighter was wired to the charging station, ready to go.

“Think of it this way,” the Nameless said, “at least we'll have air superiority.”

The Nameless and Nicks flew out the open docking bay, taking the last shreds of power on the ship with them. The last thing they did was fire a single plasma blast into the housing of the drop-pod launchers, fusing it shut and preventing any possible escape for Ghostrunner. Most of the soldiers onboard weren't wearing helmets, and would asphyxiate immediately. Those who were wearing helmets would have about ten minutes before their suit's climate control failed from the strain of trying to compensate for the cold of open space, and they would freeze to death minutes after that. Within 20 minutes, everyone left on the ship would be dead.

On the surface of Mars, over 600,000 marines watched as approximately 5,000 drop-pods landed just outside the bio-domes.

Upon landing, the drop-pods shifted, twisted, and laid themselves out flat until they resembled medium-sized garrisons. Dozens of soldiers flooded out of each one and surrounded the domes, but to their surprise, the domes cracked open, and shifted down to reveal thousands of marines in each dome.

Guns began blazing wildly. In the initial moment of surprise, several hundred of the Nameless' forces were gunned down. Many of the Earth and Mars marines were hit as well, but Sasha's serum patched them up quickly, while their suits' life support systems got to work patching up any damage to their suit that could cause decompression.

Within minutes, the planet was consumed in an all-out ground war. Hundreds of the Nameless' forces faced off against thousands of Earth and Martian marines, while the bulk of her forces remained protected from the gunfire in the garrisons.

The user of the heavy power armor slid through a group of a few dozen soldiers and got to work mowing them down and chopping them in half, while the wearer of the lavender armor set up force field generators to provide cover to the allied forces.

Nearby, a cluster of the enemy garrisons, which had released significantly more marines than its allied garrisons, was on the verge of overpowering the allied forces, but failed to watch their feet. The ground shifted underneath them, and a figure rose from the dust, her blue mohawk standing out against the dull red of the martian landscape. She wore no suit or helmet, only her trademark boots, jeans, and overcoat, and carried no gun, only her handy machete. The enemy soldiers stared in awe, wondering how she breathed, and how she wasn't dead from decompression sickness.

Then reality hit them again, and they began to fire their rifles at her. She moved too quickly to hit, faster than any human should be able to move, even in the decreased gravity of Mars, and managed to skewer two enemy soldiers with a single jab of her blade, and pulled it right out. She continued to shift, bob, and weave, dodging every bullet that came her way.

“NOBODY KILL THAT ONE,” she called to the nearby allied forces, gesturing at a random marine in the crowd. “I WANT TO RIP OUT HIS GODDAMN HEART.”

The enemy soldier unloaded a clip of ammunition in her direction, but almost miraculously, she always managed to move just slightly faster than the bullets. Her machete cut clean through the armor of another soldier, and she was nearly drenched in blood and oil. Soon, the entire garrison was dead except for the one enemy marine she'd pointed out.

She wiped the blade of her machete clean on her jeans and, panting and laughing wildly, rushed over to that marine, brought her face close to his, and punched her hand clean through the chestplate of his armor, ripping his heart out in her fist. The last thing he saw before he died of shock was her tossing it aside into the dust, and shaking blood off her hand.

From their command center, far behind the lines, Santiago and Upendo watched.

“How does she move like that?” Upendo asked, “How does she punch through armor?! How is she alive out there?”

“She won't tell you without a warrant,” Santiago replied, “or– well, you'd be better off just letting it stay a mystery.”

Ariadne's voice buzzed on comms. “She's Oort,” she said, “her body is so augmented I doubt there's anything these mercs could throw at her that would kill her.”

“How are we looking on the ground, Captain?” Santiago asked.

“It's looking like war, Magistrado. Tontine division has been wiped off the map, and the Allied Marines are barely holding the line,” Ariadne replied. “Any sign of her yet, Fastwing?”

Santiago looked at the maps on his console. It didn't look like the allied forces were faltering, but he supposed it might, if he was on the ground. He had tried in vain to suit up and fight alongside the marines, but Spacebreather had insisted he remain behind. She respected his desire to fight for Mars, but told him that without the proper training, it was too dangerous for him to be in the thick of it.

Alicia's voice crackled into the feed. “Her fighter is inbound, ETA two minutes.”

“Remember, Fastwing, you have to let her see us before you pursue,” Ariadne said. “Oh shit, I see her! Be ready!”

The Nameless' fighter swooped into view and immediately clocked Ariadne's lavender armor and spindly spider-legs. The berserker in power armor next to her dicing her way through hundreds of marines must be Spacebreather.

She targeted their position and pulled the trigger on two hunter-seeker missiles powerful enough to penetrate even that hulking suit of armor.

However, that hulking suit of armor had rockets of its own, and fired them in exactly the right trajectory to intercept the missiles and detonate them safely in the air.

“She's good,” the Nameless said, “but I'm better.”

As she said this, as if to prove her wrong, the ship shook.

“Two direct hits to shields,” Nicks said, “there's another fighter in the skies.”

“How can that be?”

Alicia's fighter had just teleported onto the scene, from just outside the range of the EMP, and began her pursuit of the Nameless' ship. The Nameless left her forces to the task of killing Ariadne and Pilar, and took flight.

“She's not firing,” Nicks said, “why isn't she firing on us?”

“Ariadne's pathetic moral code,” the Nameless replied, “even after all this, she still won't kill me.”

“I don't think that's–”

“Focus on getting us the hell out of here!”

On the ground, Blue laughed her chilling, shrill laugh, and said into her comms unit, “Is that my girl?”

“Hi Blue,” Alicia's voice crackled back through the comms unit, “miss me?”

Blue cut her way through three more marines. “Got a lot of blood and oil on me, sexy,” she said, “gonna need somebody to help me wash it off!”

“Got a few weeks of shore leave saved up,” Alicia said, “maybe I'll see you.”

“Just a few weeks?” Blue asked, punching her machete through a marine's visor, “I'm gonna have to use every second.”

The Nameless did her best to out-pilot Alicia, while Nicks fired from the gunner turret.

“How many life-signs onboard that ship?” The Nameless asked.

Nicks checked the scanner. “Just one!” She said, “Wait a second…”

“What?”

“There's a third life-sign on this ship,” Nicks said.

“Little bitch, that's why she's not firing on us,” the Nameless said. She was briefly mad at herself for not detecting that, but quickly pivoted towards being mad at Nicks for not warning her sooner. “Take the controls, Nicks. I'm going to handle this.”

“She'll blow the ship if she sees you,” Nicks warned, taking her seat at the controls and resuming evasive maneuvers.

“She won't have a choice,” the Nameless said, pressing her will into Ghostrunner's mind.

Ghostrunner felt her body wrench to attention.

“Corantine?” Vigil asked, in their hiding spot in a storage closet at the back of the ship's bridge.

“No,” the Nameless' voice came out of Ghostrunner's mouth. “Oh, so you're who she chooses to spend her time with now. Might as well come out of hiding. If you don't, I'll make her kill herself.”

Vigil stood up, and Ghostrunner's body followed suit. They walked together out into the opening so that Nicks and the Nameless could see them.

“So,” the Nameless said, “this was your plan?”

“Libs,” Nicks replied, “there's three more–”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP NICKS,” the Nameless shrieked, “I'M TALKING! DO YOU HEAR ME GODDAMN TALKING?!”

Nicks decided she no longer cared about giving her partner the vital information that three more life-signs had just appeared on their scanners.

“You put some sort of… teleportation device on my ship, distract me with Fastwing's pursuit, and Ariadne's forces sneak onboard and capture me,” Nameless said. “I thought better of Ariadne. That plan sucks. I am a god of the mind. I can shut off your heart with a thought. I'll do the same to her when she walks in here.”

“Let her go,” Ariadne said, emerging from the hiding spot with Sweettalk and Spacebreather in tow. “It's me you want to kill.”

The Nameless was shocked. “How can you two be here? I see you on the ground, fighting!”

“You see a skilled actress wearing my colors,” Ariadne said, “Magenta's really caught the theatre bug, and if I recall correctly, she's got some experience playing me. Something in her past, I think.”

“I was hoping I'd get to take that armor out for another spin,” Pilar said, smiling broadly, “but Flax is doing just a bang-up job with it.”

The Nameless fired two blasts at her. All three pirates were wearing personal shields, and absorbed the blasts.

“No matter,” the Nameless said, and pressed her will into Ariadne's mind, willing her to raise her own sidearm to her temple and pull the trigger.

Ariadne's eyes glazed over, and she did none of what the Nameless willed her to do.

The Nameless pressed harder and Ariadne began to seize up, and fell to the floor, twitching and writhing as the Nameless scrambled her mind until nothing remained but static.

“Ari!” Ghostrunner cried out. Vigil only stared in horror. Sweettalk and Spacebreather remained stone-faced. Ghostrunner began to weep.

The Nameless stared at Spacebreather and Sweettalk. “Cry or something!” She commanded. “I just killed her!”

“Did you see her plan, first?” Spacebreather asked.

“Every word,” the Nameless said. “These ground forces are all you've got, and they're failing. In a few hours, my ships will be back online, and the remaining crew has orders to nuke the planet from orbit. You've failed.”

“The plan you saw sure has,” Sweettalk said, “too bad that's not the real plan.”

“Come on,” Pilar said derisively, “Tontine Division? You thought we'd leave the fate of the system in the hands of a group of hired goons?”

Ariadne chuckled on the ground and stood up. “What a headache,” she said.

The Nameless probed Ariadne's mind again and found it was almost exactly as she'd left it. She fired another psychic pulse, and Ariadne collapsed from another seizure.

“See, you had to think this was all we had, or you would've brought more,” Spacebreather said.

“You had to think we were helpless against your psychic attacks, or you would've found another secret weapon,” Sweettalk explained.

Ariadne stood up from the floor again. “But I found a way around that,” she said.

The Nameless sent another pulse through her mind, but nothing happened. She attempted to stop her heart, but nothing happened. She tried to read her mind, but found no thoughts whatsoever.

“See, we worked something out early on,” Ariadne said. “Your psychic powers don't work on machines.”

“Her most brilliant piece of engineering yet,” Pilar said. “A small processor and hard drive, powered by her body heat, capable of housing a human mind.”

Ariadne tapped her temple. “All the memories of our real plan, right here. My organic brain didn't have access to it. That way, you couldn't see what we had planned even if you read my mind.”

“Sasha did a great job installing it,” Sweettalk said, “it's controlling your body right now, isn't it?”

“Bypassing any attempts to psychically switch off my vital functions?” Ariadne asked, “it sure is! And it contains a complete live-backup of my consciousness and all my memories. No matter what you do to my brain, this little beauty can put it back the way it was. I've spent the past year watching my own back, stopping me from asking the wrong questions, or noticing the months missing from my memory. Making sure I didn't make the same moves twice, and that my every move would lead you right here.”

The Nameless fired another psychic pulse towards Spacebreather's mind, trying to switch off her heart, but as soon as she made contact, she felt only a surge of blinding pain in response. Spacebreather's mind was inaccessible to her too. She tried the same thing on Sweettalk. Same result, only she could feel the joy Sweettalk felt at inflicting that pain.

“You know, it almost seems a waste,” Spacebreather said, “maybe we could've just lied to her the old-fashioned way. She doesn't seem to notice a con when she sees one.”

“Right? Maybe I could've done what you guys did, protected myself without brain surgery,” Ariadne said. “Call me paranoid, but I didn't expect her to be stupid, bless her heart.”

The Nameless tried to rip into her mind once more, but found only the cold steel psychic barrier she was hiding behind.

“Ghostrunner didn't know any of this,” The Nameless said, “I saw her mind! You lied to her!”

“A necessary deception,” Ariadne explained. “We needed to feed you false information, and the easiest way to do that was to hide it somewhere we knew you'd sneak a peek. We didn't lie to her, we used her to lie to you.”

“Don't you see how she uses you, Corantine? She lets you walk into danger and she doesn't even trust you with her real plan! She manipulated you into misleading me!”

“Ari?” Ghostrunner asked.

Ariadne laughed. “Ghostrunner agreed to this. You think I'd use my daughter as live bait without her permission?”

“Your daughter?” The Nameless hissed.

Ghostrunner had no idea what Ariadne was talking about, until Ariadne said the trigger word: “Tartarus.”

The Nameless peered into Ghostrunner's mind, and heard only one phrase, desperately hoping for some answers as to what could be happening:

You fucking moron.

Ghostrunner's mind went dark, and the only one left for her to read to make sense of all this was Ariadne's. But stepping into Ariadne's mind, her true, full mind, was like stepping into coursing rapids. The Nameless was swept along in the current of the memories that had recently come rushing back to Ariadne.

She saw everything.

After they'd lost their fortress in the sky, Ariadne had spent several months simply spinning her wheels, operating on the defensive, running their new home like a refugee camp. Morale was low and she couldn't stand to see her charges suffering any longer, so she realized quickly that she had to come up with an offensive strategy.

At their hideout, Ariadne had spent several weeks constructing a machine that allowed the wearer to enter another's mind, based on the psionic interface at Dr. Simon's temple. Each of Ariadne's inner circle had undergone a procedure where one of them would enter the other's mind and assault them relentlessly in scenarios Sweettalk had constructed, until the machine was no longer effective against them. Sasha had played the part of tormenter against her own sister, berating her for everything she'd been through, calling her a psychopath and a murderer, condemning her to hell, and repeatedly plaguing her with visions of Sasha's death that Spacebreather had failed to prevent. She didn't mean a word of it, of course, but after Spacebreather had confronted a psychic assailant wielding her worst fears against her, her mind closed to the machine.

Her mind had conditioned itself against psychic attack, the same way the body conditions itself against pathogens after a vaccine. Pilar had taken on the guise of Sweettalk's deceased mentor Prescott to inoculate her against psychic assault, and Sweettalk had taken on the persona of Ghostrunner's younger sister Nahomie, tormenting her with rejections and admonitions. Soon, at great emotional cost, all of Ariadne's inner circle was protected. Ariadne spent the next several months designing her own implant, and making arrangements for her real plan. Sasha had spent those six months manufacturing and stockpiling as much of her regenerative serum as possible– enough to get a massive army through the coming battle.

She'd wiped her own memory– keeping the real unabridged memories preserved on her cybernetic implant– and even had Alicia stage an argument to convince her she'd been doing nothing, when she'd actually spent several months building gear and weaponry, colluding with her allies on Earth, and laying the tracks for this plan to reach its final climax. After the memory wipe, the last thing she remembered was their months of hiding out.

The Nameless was amazed. Almost every event of the past six months had been foreseen and planned for by Ariadne. The only thing she hadn't expected was the death of Jane.

The final piece of the puzzle was Ghostrunner. She knew the Nameless would be unable to resist looking to her former victim's thoughts. She suggested that they suppress her conditioning. She wouldn't know the deck was stacked in their favor in the battle with Sasha's serum. She wouldn't know about Magenta and Flax impersonating Ariadne and Pilar, or the fleet of Earth warships set to arrive and overpower the remaining forces. When the Nameless looked into her mind, she would think she was on the verge of winning, and she'd let her guard down. This mind-wipe could only be undone with the trigger word Tartarus, spoken in Ariadne's voice.

The memory froze, and Ariadne– not the Ariadne in the memory, but the real one, stepped into the scene.

“Do you see now what you're up against?” Ariadne asked. The memory fizzled away and left them standing in a black void.

The Nameless lunged at her, but her hands just couldn't reach.

“You're in my mind, now,” Ariadne said, “and you tried to wipe it clean. This is a projection from my cybernetic implant. You can no more harm me than you could strangle a hologram.”

“Your real plan,” the Nameless said, “it has nothing to do with me, does it?”

“Capturing you is important to me personally,” Ariadne said, “but no, my plan is much bigger than you. I didn't use Ghostrunner, but I did use you.”

“Used me to do what?” The Nameless asked.

“Every mob enforcer, every hitman, every gun for hire in the Colonial moons is getting blown apart on the surface of the planet below, right alongside the abusive parents of all the kids I've given shelter to, and all the far-right reactionaries who joined up with you after your little speech,” Ariadne said. “When all the dust clears, there won't be a single casualty on our side. Sasha and her serum are seeing to that right now. All the while, the divisions between Earth and Mars are healing, and the Oort have stepped into the light and everybody's seeing them for the good people they are. Your power-grab has exposed all of the most corrupt politicians in the system for what they are, and when you're defeated, they won't come back from this. The Rizzo crime family, which stupidly spent the last several months eliminating anybody who might take their place, will be in shambles, and all the people held in their grip will finally be able to breathe. My plan was to concentrate the cancer into a single location so it could be cut out.”

“That's your goal? You start a war to end war?”

“Of course not,” Ariadne said, “this was never a war. You had to think it was, right up until the moment I got close enough for your psychic attack to fail. That's why I had to think it was a war. I couldn't remember any of the things I'd done to stage this. I manipulated myself as much as I manipulated you, darlin'. Had my own voice whispering in my ear, tellin' me the only way I could possibly hope to beat you is to contrive a massive battle on the ground. I couldn't have let myself know the trap was foolproof, or else you would've known it. Couldn't turn my mind into a brick wall, or you'd think I had something hidden behind it. What would you have done then?”

“I'd have fled,” the words escaped the Nameless' mouth involuntarily, “I only do things I'm sure I can get away with, and when I don't get away with them, I–” She struggled to keep the words in “–lash out at the people who caused my failure, because I need to have control and they… force me to confront how little control I actually have.”

Ariadne grinned.

“You can't lie here, not even to yourself,” Ariadne said, “our minds are connected. I'll hear what you mean instead of what you say.”

“This wasn't a war,” the Nameless sneered, “so what was it?”

“This was a test. See, you surprised me when you broke free from the prison, and then again when you drove us out of our home. But I thought, let's give her one last chance. All you had to do was leave us alone. Walk away. Go find somebody else to torment. But you just couldn't stop picking at the wounds you inflicted on us. You tried to take over the whole system just to keep your claws in my family. You could've turned your ship around, flown off into the black, and I wouldn't have pursued you. We never wanted to see you again, but you just kept showing up. And when we set up a trap, and told you it was a trap, you still walked right into it, just so you could hurt us one more time.”

“You're killing hundreds of thousands of people, just to teach me a lesson, and you call me the monster?”

“Actually,” Ariadne said, “only a fraction of that number will die. And every single one of them was given a choice.”

“What?”

“Just before the battle began,” Ariadne explained, “we managed to broadcast this little message to all of your forces, courtesy of my new friend Vigil, who you apparently didn't see, lurking in the ducts.”

The Nameless saw an image of herself and Nicks appear between them.

“Libs, there's ten thousand souls on board. They'll die if we–”

“I'd kill a hundred thousand more if it takes out Ghostrunner!”

“Amazing, how few of your troops will stand by you after they hear you admit they're expendable to you,” Ariadne said. “Learned that when I was sixteen. I call it Beam's Gambit. Told them that they could choose their fate: walk away without consequence, or stay and accept the consequences of fighting. Why do you think so many of them stayed inside the garrisons? Most of your troops lay down their arms immediately, and all of my troops are armed with Oort weaponry that cannot harm anybody except in self-defense. Only the soldiers still loyal to you even could take a bullet.”

“My, but you like to hear yourself talk,” the Nameless snarled.

“Actually, now I'd like to hear you talk,” Ariadne said. “See, darlin', this is the last chance I'll ever get to have an honest conversation with you about what you did, and lucky me, for once, you can't lie.”

“Bitch,” the Nameless said.

“Maybe so,” Ariadne said. “So tell me, now, about how my crew is toxic. How we mistreated you. How you were the victim.”

The Nameless strained to remain silent. It took all of her mental energy to resist the question. Unfortunately, in a battle of mental energy, she would've been outmatched by an Ariadne without a recently installed second brain.

“I… I…” The Nameless stammered, and strained so hard not to finish the sentence that by the time she did, she was practically screaming. “I SEEK TO CONTROL OTHERS BECAUSE I DON'T THINK OF ANYONE BUT MYSELF AS A REAL PERSON.”

Ariadne smiled mirthlessly. “Go on.”

“I'm the only one who matters,” the Nameless admitted, looking as though the words were being ripped out of her, hating herself for admitting them because she knew they were how she really felt. “I think that I deserve to be obeyed and catered to without question. I believe I alone decide what the truth is, and that makes anyone who questions me a liar. I know that I won't find this, so I have to make it by attempting to break people so that they view me the same way I do. Whenever someone gets wise to what I'm doing, my control over them breaks and they sever all ties, and I claim it was my choice and do my best to discredit or dispose of them. I believe that whatever I do to them is their fault, because they could've just done as they were told, been as they were told.”

“Tell me about what you did to my crew.”

“I… I… I lied about my age, my name, and my personal history,” she strained against the truth, “to get close enough to them that they'd reveal their traumas, which I could use as leverage against them. Once they feared me, I used them for my own gratification– emotional, personal, sexual, whatever form it took– it was always just about exercising my power over them. If anyone saw through me and challenged me in the eyes of my people, I would either discredit them or– or– try to kill them.”

“Is that what you did to Sasha and Sweettalk?”

The Nameless wanted to lie and claim she was framed, but she simply vomited out the truth: “I tried to kill them. They tried to break my control over Ghostrunner. I had to.”

“So you weren't framed?” Ariadne asked.

“No,” the Nameless said, the muscles on her neck rock-hard from the effort of trying and failing to lie, “I'm a serial abuser and I know it, and I've been doing it for a long time. I accuse my victims of the things I've done to them, because it punishes them for daring to challenge my authority, and forces them into a defensive position.”

“Discredit… Attack… Reverse victim and offender,” Ariadne said, “Good god, you're not even interesting or unique. You're just a garden-variety abuser. Amateur hour, darlin'. The only difference between you and every other sociopathic piece of shit power-tripping over the people you claim to love is that you managed to get yourself an army. Do you regret any of it? Trying to kill Sasha and Sweettalk? The massacre during your escape? All those therapists?”

“N…no…” the Nameless said, “they… were… trying to… stop me…”

“From hurting people? Doing things you know are wrong,” Ariadne asked, “but think you should be allowed to do anyway?”

“I… decide… what's right… and wrong…” The Nameless confessed to the egotistical belief, “anything I do is right… anyone who doesn't do as I say… is against me… and anyone who's against me… deserves what they get.”

“You want to know the difference?” Ariadne asked, “the real difference between me and you? And remember… we have to be honest with one another here.”

“No,” the Nameless said, “I don't give a shit what you think.”

“Too fuckin' bad, sweetheart,” Ariadne replied. “See, I'm a criminal. I hurt people all the time, for what I think is a good cause, and I love my job. The difference is, I do what I do to give people the freedom and opportunity to make their own choices. Be who and what they want to be. I only hurt people who'd take that freedom away from others. People like you, who hurt people because you get off on controlling and degrading others just to feel powerful. Am I wrong?”

The Nameless looked like she was about to vomit from rage. “…No.”

“Good to know,” Ariadne said. “See, the other difference between me and you is, I actually considered whether you were right about me. Even feared you might be, before some good people reassured me I wasn't. If I didn't have you bound to tell the truth, would you ever have worried I was right about you?”

“Never.”

Ariadne laughed. “You know, being right doesn't make me feel all that much better. So let me ask you one last question. Who are you, really?”

A spike of anger flared off the Nameless, and she finally managed to rip herself free of Ariadne's mind. She shrieked, and lashed out at Spacebreather's mind again. No effect except excruciating pain. She tried Ghostrunner's. It was like throwing a tennis ball at a brick wall and having it grow spikes and rebound into her face. She tried Sweettalk's. Sweettalk laughed at her, and her body was wracked with agony.

“You think that's all I've got? You think I care if I go with you?!” The Nameless asked, and they felt the ship shudder and shake around them. She was about to tear the ship apart, killing herself just to take them down. “YOU DIE TODAY, ARIADNE!”

At this point, her forehead exploded outwards. As she collapsed to the ground, the stunned pirate crew, sprayed with her blood, stared at Nicks, holding a smoking revolver.

“Surprise!” Nicks said.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

My Feelings Were Not Great On September To October (And My Thoughts About Yandere Simulator)

[Note: Mature Readers/Audiences Only For This...also besides wanting to give my thoughts about the whole Yandere Simulator thing, I also have other stuff I want to talk about as well. also reading this is optional, so don't have to read this if you don't want to.]

I needed a bit more time, and well I did plan to sign back on around Monday and Tuesday of September like I said, but stuff happen...

I also decided to take a bit more time away, and yeah during those times I did work on some of my fanfics during that time.

also I have been kind of praying that the whole Yandere Simulator will be picked up by another game developers, because of the certain reasons....

I think that Yandere Dev, needs some time away to not just self reflect, but also heal.....there are some stuff I wrote that talks about the certain situation, which I had wrote some days ago this month...and well I think I could save it for later, you know....show those thoughts and feelings that have to do with the situation.

I'm not happy with some people who are only making the matter worse, and should understand that both parties are at fault.

and yeah, I hate the fact that he did do that, but if some people bothered to read his posts over at the place where it also mentions about the pause/hiatus of the game, they would understand the situation a bit better.....one of the things that I had prayed for, before he had announced he would be away...

is that he would take some time away and if I remember correctly, to heal and not make that same mistake again....which I'm pretty sure the stuff I wrote that I have saved [but not in the drafts here.]

is that I had prayed for him.....and well, he might learn from such a mistake, that ya can't just treat some gals as one of the guys.

and yeah, I'm peeved off at that girl....because in a logical view of the whole mess, she shouldn't of talked with him in the first place or thought he had feelings for her that go beyond platonic.

and even if it is different, it reminds me of a cousin of mine...

which once again, the situation is very different....

but it's just the way they acted that was so annoying and I suppose frustrating, my cousin had some kind of ego when it came to them believing all of those who were of the opposite gender wanted them and showed some kind of interest to them....

and yeah, it bug me so much at some point I ended up yelling at them.

once again, what happen then and the current situation of that mess where both parties are at fault, are two different and separate matters.

and yeah, there are some other stuff that has happen that made me feel not really all that happy....which makes me glad I'm Neo-Spiritual, well that is if some Toxic-Religious jerks don't end up ruining that for me and well, hopefully they don't....

I guess being Neo-Spiritual can have different meanings for anyone.

like yeah I'm a Defective Earth Angel, who still needs to stop procrastinating about that whole blood type test thing.

and yeah, I think the song "Born Without A Heart" by Faouzia...

fit the feelings that I feel at times....

and the feeling of wanting to punch Archangel Samael...

I don't care if I am not very tall, and I might not be very strong and well, when it comes to the whole mana and magic that could be in the human body, and even those with RH Negative and Positive blood type can have different levels of magic in them...

I guess it is possible I might be the weakest of Earth Angels.

and well I do use my gem bracelets to not just protect me from certain energies from people.....but I also use them as sealing charms and limiters......cause my being a bit paranoid when it comes to not wanting to end up like Carrie White from the Carrie Movie series, and even Alessa Gillespie from Silent Hill....

and well, even if I might be the weakest of Earth Angels,

I think praying for a dream-catcher to act as a shield and barrier for my room and keep working even when I have to leave my room, is one of the good things......and well, yeah the reason I had to use that dream-catcher again, even after having to take it down before was because of well some stuff that I wont get into right now...

but I have that dream-catcher hanging outside my room's door.

the reason for this, is so it can not only form a protective shield and barrier, to which I had prayed for by having it be on the door, wall, ceiling, floor and even at some of the windows.

the reason being is that.....I had a second close call, and yeah just like the first first close call there was the color gray....

but unlike the first one, it was a bit longer and I had to run...

and well there was this old man and even a woman who I think, protected me in a way.....I can't remember the old man's face, and I never saw the woman's face, but she had very long white hair, and I think she had pale skin.

I also have another dream-catcher that I am using over at my bed, so yeah, extra protection when I sleep.

it is possible that toxic-lust energy can be dangerous for some who have different type of empathic abilities.

even if you might not feel every feeling of other people, but there are some energies they put off that might be dangerous to you.

and as for some babies and children, I believe it can cause them seizures, and yeah it can also come from a place with a lot of bad energy, and it wouldn't just be a lot of people in a very large room that will end up causing the seizure to happen....

not like some doctors will fully accept that there are some epilepsy that can't be explain through science alone and they can be misdiagnosed.

anyway, it might be bad to live in the same place of residence of someone who even though isn't really a bad person, but may give off way too much toxic-lust energy, which can at times place someone who is sleeping into a trance and cause them to dream-walk.

it could be possible the dream-self that one sees, is not the real them that has the toxic-lust energy, but a toxic-lust manifestation energy given form, to look like the person it is coming from.

and even though I'm not sure if it would work for everyone, but it is still best to protect yourself from that.

I'm keeping that dream-catcher on my door, and I'm not going to take it down....because it is for my own safety and protection when I sleep.

it is best to recognize that dream-walking is happening, and that it needs to be stop if it is caused by some form of dangerous toxic energy from someone who might not be a bad person, but because of some stuff that goes on with them...it is best to use dream-catchers and gems to protect yourself.

not everyone has to believe that, but I can't taking any chances.

I didn't think I would end up having a second close call so soon, and I'm keeping that dream-catcher on my door.

I can't tell my family why it needs to be there, I can't tell them about the first and second close calls when I was sleeping.

I know I wrote about it in my diary, of course even I know I'm not gonna say all the stuff I wrote in my diary....

and well today, I didn't write something very VERY personal in it, something I know I can't talk about with my family.

I know I mention about being Fictoromantic & Aroaceflux, and the whole talking about there are Heteroromantic-Aces.

and well, even though I don't want to give everything away from that diary, I will say this.....even if some might not think it is possible.

but it could be possible to be scared straight, even when not being send to those disgusting inhuman filth camps, or as they are better known as Conversion Camps.

I knew someone, from when I was really little, who was around the same age as me when I was little, who had ended up getting a small crush, not on me of course......but they had showed a small sign of being biromantic.

I remember a bit of that time, what scared them in not talking about the small crush that had accord, and the reasons why they never came out about it, was because of something that had happen that caused them to not talk about it, and over time they only got crushes on those of the opposite gender.

but even if being "scared straight" is more fact than fiction, the certain feelings don't really go away....even if it might seem that way.

what happens is that it is locked away in a type of box, like a small chest that has chains and heart shaped locks around it, not to keep it in to try to deny it, but to protect it.

because not everyone is as lucky to have family and friends or others to try to fully understand them and accept them, even if they show signs of a different type of romantic identity before they became a teenager.

even if not everyone gets "scared straight" and it might not really be a type of way that you just become straight, but it's like getting so scared you have to lock that part of yourself away, not because you wanted to, I mean you did but it was because of bad experiences.

you created that chest in your heart, well it's more of a ethereal heart.

and you put the protective chains around it as well as the heart shaped locks. which that whole chest being inside of you think, reminds me of a Anime that has to do with this girl and a jerky boy.

it's called Skip Beat.

even if ya have family that is all straight, and even have a misunderstanding about Asexuality and you might not feel like you can try to correct them by saying there are in fact some Aces who are Gay and some who are Straight...

like I pointed out, I wanted to come out being Aceflux but I wanted to get my family's thoughts about Asexuality first.....

and well I did, and once I did hear them I had ended up acting like it wasn't about me and I made sure to put on a type of mask, you know to hide your true feelings type of mask.

and well once I was in my room, I let all the bad feelings out and let myself cry.....yeah, I don't feel ready to talk to them about it again.

maybe sometime I can try to tell them that there are some people in this world who are both straight and ace, but I don't feel ready to do that right now.

I also think whenever I feel really sad at times, I can try to do my own way of emotional healing, like listening to music, watching a movie or show I like and even doing some reading, and if I feel up to it, playing some video games.

which I finally beat Mass Effect 3 even if it was the Legendary version, but I chose the Green Ending....

I'm not going to have my first win in one of the endings of that Mass Effect 3 game, be the other two endings....

also it is still possible to keep both the Geth and Quarian alive in that part of the game, you just have to make sure to do certain things in the game and not just go fight the Reaper on their home planet right away, doing that is a big mistake, and you cannot do that first....

Mass Effect Legendary might be a blessing, it has the DLC stuff already on it, and I'm glad that I saved that one Quarian Guy I forgot the name of, and didn't go for his team.....because if I left him behind it would of ended up having to choose between the Geth and Quarian.

anyway I hope things do get better, and well not just because of the situation that has to do with Yandere Dev, and if I have to pray more for him then I will, and I see the whole him saying he is taking some time away as a sign that prayer I made before came true.

I know there are the other stuff that was talked about that I had read before, and it really is possible that girl and what others are saying isn't the only reason why he needs time away.

I guess there can be some people who are mostly neutral, and I'm not even sure there are very many who understands both sides are at fault....

and yeah, my thoughts are if things were different and it was some guy who was actually the type of thing that some people are saying that Yandere Dev was, then yeah it is possible I would be fully on the side of that girl.....but it is also possible some are milking that messed up situation way too much.

also if someone older is being flirted with by someone who is younger, they can't just be quiet about it because they want to be nice about it and not get them mad at them...

that can be one of the parts that plays a misunderstanding, it is best to tell them not to flirt with you and plus even though the mistake is to use certain jokes that goes on between the conversation, it can possibly be misinterpreted...

even if I only know very little about the situation and only know from the posts that ended up talking about it up to the point where it is announced that the game will be on pause and well we can also view it on a hiatus.

but it makes me wish that girl had never talked with him, yes he is still at fault but at least he feels sorry and some form of regret of what happen.

and I'm not gonna give up on him or stop praying for him to not make that same mistake, I want to protect him from those types of mistakes.

and perhaps I should pray that girl doesn't make that same mistake again either, I don't think I really know her name, but even if I do find out about it, I wont say it on here or any other place.

even though some guys do treat some girls as one of the guys, they need to be careful with some words when they talk to a girl buddies.

some girls can take things way too literal, and well it can be possible with some guys.

it isn't just a problem with some girls, and yeah it can be possible that loneliness can possibly play a part for some girls and ebirls to do stupid mistakes and being at fault.

I think the reason why I fell for the wrong type of guys before who are now ex-boyfriends, even if they are only online boyfriends and never met them in real life but are still real people...

might have to do with my loneliness and possibly from certain energies I was picking up.

I know I am at fault for trusting them, even more foolish for trusting a certain one I shouldn't of.

even if they had a strange fetish that had to do with clothes, and I know that it had made me uncomfortable and even if I'm glad I don't remember much about them, but I know that it was my mistake in not saying that I didn't feel comfortable about it.

also if anyone is confused about the word Enbirl, it has to do with Nonbinary-Girl.

also it can be possible that there are different types of empathic stuff that humans go through, and not all of them will be the same.

and yeah, emotional healing is a must for anyone who had went through some stuff that might of really emotionally hurt them.

and yeah as weird as I can be, and I know it isn't possible.

but I still might have thoughts of wanting to punch Archangel Samael.

even if it is just thoughts and I know it isn't really possible to do so.

plus ya can't really prove that he is Cain's Dad, and yeah there is the whole being Cain's descendant, but I and others are also Seth's descendants as well...

and yeah, I'm still gonna stick to my new view about Cain and Abel, and how there is more to that story and how both brothers are at fault.

and yeah if Abel even tried that with my fluffy baby, I would possibly go feral earth angel on him, maybe I could just slap him silly.

Cain would possibly need a time in a corner and emotional healing himself, we can't just keep viewing him as always been evil.

the harmful stuff inside him, had been part of the reason he broke past a very dangerous breaking point.

and Adam & Eve were possibly bad at parenting, while at the same time being a little good at it, so it is possible they were gray-parents.

gray-parents are the type of parents who are in between being bad and good parents I think.

like Greg Universe who we find out from re-watching the first seasons of Steven Universe and even in Steven Universe Future, that he is a Gray-Parent.

I can still like Greg, but I have accept the fact that his parenting of Steven wasn't 100% good, and I love both the original series and the future series and some might can relate to Steven even if it is in a different way.

just like how some fans of RWBY can relate to Ruby Rose, and even some fans can relate a bit to Chara from Undertale.

we can have different characters from a show, video game, movie and book series that we can relate to...

and some might even relate to Blitzo from Helluva Boss, or even relate to both him and Fizz....

and even if the episode where Mammon is suppose to appear in might be a while, I got to say that his design is awesome.

and yeah, I still have the thoughts at times of calling dibs on Mammon's butt, which is different from Millie's dibs on Moxxie's butt.

but it's like has to do with how greed can go from the normal to the toxic, and it causing some coca-cola to have their price to be raised.

and once again, Mammon was the first guy I had thoughts about punching in the groin....

of course I had figured out I can't drink too much coca-cola cause it causes certain problems...

I think it was when the price for coca-cola was back to normal, when I notice it was causing me some problems and I had to stop drinking it for a while, and the problem was fixed.

when I can I can drink it again, but I'm going to take it easy on it.

doesn't change my mind about wanting to punch Mammon below the belt and calling dibs on his butt.

even if such a thing isn't possible and might never happen.

but I know I have grown really tired of how the masculine energy is.

even if the feminine energy has a bit of toxic and negative energy in it, but it isn't as high or as dangerous as the toxic and negative energy in the masculine energy.

anyway, the toxic masculine energy can be mixed with toxic-lust energy and it could be in some toxic feminine energy as well.

that second close call I had, that said happen when I was sleeping, it had lasted a bit longer than the first one.

and I'm going to make sure to keep that dream-catcher on my door, to protect me.

also those who are the ones who give off toxic-lust energy, they need to fix that problem, because that energy is freaking dangerous.

I mean if those two were real, I would feel a lot safer around Fizz and Ozzie from Helluva Boss...

I believe that those who are sensitive to some energies, can be in some form of danger from toxic-lust energy from another person.

and in theory, the stronger the toxic-lust energy, the more likely it will be picked up by you when you sleep and place you into a type of trance, so slightly different from what some succubus do.

like some info about a succubus is that they can put their target into a trance, but this isn't the case for this weird defective earth angel.

I know that I might never be 100% like other Earth Angels, even if it does turn out that not all Earth Angels who are also Humans, have RH Negative Blood.

I'm still procrastinating in checking to see if my blood type will come out O RH D Negative for a third time.

not really looking forward to the needle, and the feeling I got a few times when checking my blood type....but I learned while having help with it from family, it is best for me to keep my eyes closed.

I'm not even sure if it is a phobia of blood, so it could be a different reason.

anyway, I know that not everyone will try to understand that both parties are at fault when it comes to that situation that happen before the Yandere Simulator game had to be put on pause and we can view it as a hiatus.

I'm going to make sure to keep praying when I can, for Yandere Dev to not make the same mistake and also take as much time away to heal.

because it isn't just that mess that happen which is the reason he needs time to heal.

I'm not giving up on him, and I believe that he does feel sorry for what happen, but I am not happy that he talked with that girl, and I wish that mess never happen.

but hopefully both him and her, have learned from it and wont make the same mistake again.

I still love the Yandere Simulator Game, and if a new game developers have to pick up the story and continue it, we will have to accept that if it comes down to that, and the new game developers become adoptive parents to it, even when Yandere Dev is still given Credit.

there can be different forms of not forgiving and forgiving someone.

one of the things about forgiveness is that it can't be forced, and at least one side or both need to understand what they did that caused the harm in the first place.

like even if someone tells you not forgiving is a type of sin, but isn't trying to force someone into forgiving when they might need time, just a bit wrong...?

I might not be super smart, and yeah at times some stuff I say gets misinterpreted and it can end up hurting my feelings.

but I don't think it is right to just force forgiveness, there might need to be some kind of process before that can happen.

and besides that whole mess, there was other stuff that made me feel not so great...

and it having to do with the stuff that is going on at the other side of the world...

I guess it's like too many bad feelings...

and of course there is the whole having to place all videos and screenshots from my Xbox to a type of storage device because of a certain info that pop up on it.

and if I hadn't found out during that time when I had signed on it, I would of been really peeved.

lucky I had made it on time and figured out how to place some of them into a storage device that will be for media use and well the other thing I figured out was that I had to go to the Xbox store and download a certain app that is for media.

also when it comes to the whole stuff that went down that has to do with Yandere Dev and that Girl.....I rather not bring this up any time soon, and rather wait to post the original thoughts and feelings that have to do with it...

both sides are still at fault, and I hope that girl will stay as far away from him, and if I have to try to pray for that then I will do my best to do so.

in a way, it is possible they both ended up hurting each other.

and they both need to reflect on their actions in different ways.

I also know that not everyone who takes either his or her side, will agree about my view that both of those two are at fault.

like I said before, I'm not going to give up on him and I'm going to make sure to pray and hope he never falls into that type of situation again, even if he made a mistake that crossed a line which ended up having some get some terrible misunderstandings about him.

but so long as he doesn't make that same mistake, it should be fine.

and there are reasons why I'm mad at that girl, one of them being that she would be at the age to know better than to pull that slag.

but hopefully both sides will stay away from each other, cause that mess was frag up and I still wish it didn't happen...

also even if not everyone can believe that some non-straight feelings can happen before you become a teen, not everyone has to believe that.

but it can be possible, but the whole scared straight thing wouldn't mean you just become straight from something that scared you to the point of staying inside the closet.

but I think it's like placing the part of yourself in a box and placing chains around it with heart shaped locks on it.

it might not make sense to some, but that is the best way I can explain it.

when humans start out as kids, they start out with just romantic cute type of crushes for those they get crushes on.

the whole sexuality wont come until much later on...

plus being Aroace or Aroaceflux can be different for some, and there can be some people who don't start out as Aroace or Aroaceflux but might become that way later on.

I have crushes before, but at the moment I have no interest in getting into a romantic relationship with any real life humans, even if I end up meeting them online.

maybe I should write down a list as reasons what I find not attractive.

let's see, one of them being how some humans treat Aces, and let's see the Toxic-Hypers*xual is really not attractive at all.

Toxic-Masculinity is not very attractive, so there is that.

I hope that I don't have another panic attack like I did in 2015, even though I might of been close to having another one this year...

because once again it happen in a car, but this time I think I had better control of it.

I think that I still might have a type of Semi-Androphobia.

and at times some thoughts pop into my head, which might of started this year or last year.

whenever I'm in the kitchen and a male family member comes into that same room, even if they aren't really bad, but the thoughts "don't touch me." pops into my head.

I guess I can still trust some males, even if some are family.

well I can't trust one that is still technically family, but with the messed up stuff that he has done, I can't trust him and he needs to stay away.

I think some who have Androphobia and some with Gynophobia, some can have it far worse, so my slight phobia might not be as bad which is why I view it as a semi type.

and I believe that the panic attack I had in 2015, which ended up having me hit my head on the ceiling of the car...

was because of men and the thought of the dangerous situations.

even if not all guys are like that, but there are some who you need to be careful around.

also, I think self healing can possibly help even if for some it can take a bit longer than most days of needing it.

it might not be easy to get to the same type of feelings of happy that one use to feel until they were hurt past the breaking point.

and I know the best thing I can do, is hold onto the happy feelings I still have inside of me even if they might not be as strong as they use to.

having two depressions pretty much sucks, and falling into one after becoming better not too long ago from the first one....

that can pretty much super suck.

it doesn't help that Covid-19 happen.....and even some stuff that is happening now.

if I was allowed to, and if it were possible.....

I would still want to punch Archangel Samael....well him and Lucifer.

anyway I know that not everyone will possibly read this anyway.

and yeah even if it does talk about some other stuff, besides the Yandere Simulator game and the messed up stuff that happen.

but I hope there will be others who will end up working on the game, but would have to ask Yandere Dev first, and he would need to give them the okay and permission.

at least this isn't like the time I believed some fake news about Scott Cawthon being dead....you do NOT put a fake news about that.

and if I hadn't decided to click on it, I would of still believed it was true.

dirty slagging jerk who started that fake news joke had crossed a line.

anyway there is another post I want to do that has to do with a weird dream I had that has to do with Husk from Hazbin Hotel.

once again, even if not everyone has to agree with my point of view about my finding that both parties are at fault, do not misinterpret my thoughts and feelings about it.

and the best thing for those two are to reflect, do some self healing and never make the same mistake like that mess again.

also even if I had ended up in a sad mood, I think I'm okay now.

well there is that stuff that is going on that doesn't make me happy, and one of them being having to do with stuff that is going on the other side of the world.

and sorry if this ended up super long, but hopefully in the next post after this one, I wont end up making it super long.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Word of the day {11}

Oneshot summary; You are a Guard. Thranduil your King. Still, the relationship between the two of you are not simply built on that difference. It is that the elven king has something personally against you. It has gone on for as long as you been his guard, but not until now do you understand why.

Pairing: Thranduil x reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Oneshot

Word; 5.4k

Warnings; enemies to lovers kinda, fluff 

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

MAIN MASTERLIST

ADVENT CALANDER MASTERLIST

The hoves of your horse changed from galloping on the forest ground to the stone archway leading into the rear entrance of the palace. Hence the sound becomes more noticeable for those of your group who already had returned. Which was, to the last elf, all your brother and sister in arms.

They followed you as you slowed your steed into a trot, moving out of the way so you could reach the head of the guard and the Prince standing alongside her.

"Tauriel", you called upon her. Even if her eyes already had shifted from Legolas upon hearing your return to the party. "The foul beasts and their nest have been cleared". You didn't even need to pull the reins to urge your companion to stop when you needed to sit down.

"I thought you only said you would hunt the ones having stirred trouble upon us", the Wood-elf questioned as you tossed the reins over your stallions head, collecting them in one hand before turning to face her.

"I did, but they had already run so far it would have been for nought if not taking the whole nest with them". Your red-haired companion could not but tip her head forwards and close her eyes, lips trying not to tug upwards in the edges.

"I need to say, as the head of this guard, that you should keep to your word of honour. Albeit-", Tauriel looked upwards again, trying her best not to lose her firmness all too bad when a few elves still had not dispersed as the rest around you. However, the softening of her voice as she continued was inevitable. "-I, as a friend, know that you would have finalised this quest no matter what I ordered, merely seeing how it is your will guiding you to not take a loss that could be prevented".

"Or more so a King that would have my head", you muttered low enough none of the other guards could hear, knowing your comment would not sit right with them compared to your companions. "Oh, I am a fool. He will possibly find something either way".

The chuckle did not come from Tauirel this time, regarding she did a great job in quelling her amusement. It came from Legolas. "Ever thought it may be fate blessing you upon hearing the words of hope you utter", the ribbing remark merely made you roll your eyes at the Sindarin Elf.

"Not as much a blessing as a curse", you huffed.

And as if the Valar actually heard your statements as clearly as your two companions. A voice called upon your attention. However, it was not solely your head that turned when your name filled the air. Both Tauriel and Legolas' did as well.

Now coming to stand at your sides was one of the heavily armed guards. One of those that protected a few chosen places of this kingdom. If merely guessing from your positioning, reasonably close to the border. You would have thought one of those guards had come to speak with you about whatever on their thought. However, seeing the gold inlacing the intricacy of the shield they carried, that was not the case. This was one of the guards from the Kings throne chamber.

"The King has requested your presence", at times you wondered if the Elven King's character was contagious. Although, if you too would need to stand and listen to Thranduil day in and out, his temper would infect you. So, you held no grudge towards the guard's clipped request upon the King's demand.

"Tell him I'll be there", Tauriel reached forth, offering to lead Séilfa to the enclosure he shared with the other horses. Bur, you simply shook your head, turning and starting to walk yourself. "The King will understand. If not, he will simply have to". As if knowing what you said and that it meant you cared more for your mustang than to appease Thranduil by letting go of anything to come, Séilfa snorted pressing, his head against your shoulder.

You heard no commotion around you, just an exchange of words and then footsteps coming closer. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how Tauriel and the guard were heading further into the grounds towards the centre of the realm while Legolas was nearing you with his own mare in tow.

"You are not making it easy for my father to like you", you looked forth once the golden-haired elf settled into the same step as you, his white horse held on his left side so he could walk beside you.

"He does not make it easy to receive his likings either".

"Perhaps it would not hurt trying". You turned to look at Legolas when feeling his eyes shift to you.

"Try what?" One of your eyebrows arched. "Offering him the belief that he has a reason to be so hostile when I never think I have given the King a cause?" He opened his mouth, though it appeared he realised you indeed had a point. Thranduil, no matter what you had done to evoke his dislike -according to him- did not really have a reason to be so resentful towards you.

You were a skilful guard, on the likes of both Tauriel and Legolas. Losing was never an option for you. Thus you always strived to be better, fight harder. Apart from veering off track from the Silvan elf's command once or twice, merely to finish a mess you may or may not have started, you never disobeyed the words from the Woodland Realm's ruler.

You may have come to stretch the boundaries and his patience for finishing a task before answering to his words this last season. Although, that was not to forgo the unavoidable. Merely to complete a task you knew you could get reprimanded for rather than just whatever the King wanted to speak to you about initially.

"You are what my father does not like", the out of a blue comment made you huff.

"Wonderful way to put it", you replied, but the Prince of Mirkwood simply shook his head.

"I do not mean it that way", Legolas patted the coat of his white steed to calm it when it started to tug in the reins upon the sight of the pasture and herd. "I mean that you are sacrificial, have a sharp tongue and is strong-willed".

"Nothing but praise in hose words, my Prince", you shot him a smile, one your companion could not help but smile and shake his head at. Not solely from how you facetiously used his title as few others dared, even when alone with him.

"You are not like most".

"Indeed not".

"Most would say that it is remarkable how you can be in the King's guard with such little respect for him". 'I wonder that too' was about to slip from your lips. But you caught the words before they managed to linger in the air, veering the conversation off track.

"Is it something you too wonder?" You couldn't help that your smile quirked just in the edges, turning into a smirk at the quick way his watchful blue eyes snapped to you.

Upon seeing your humoured look on him, Legolas calmed when knowing you had not taken ill, nor truly believed he thought the words he said was legitimate. "No. Thus, I know you personally".

"Good, then I do not need to explain to you I heed to his orders out of respect to a King, whereas Thranduil as a person and your father has no respect from me and neither will he until he show me some".

Albeit talking with possibly the greatest disrespect in the kingdom about his father, Legolas simply laughed at you. Mostly because he found your attitude refreshing. Not so stiff and seemingly forced to like someone only because they were a majesty.

"Then let your stallion roam and head to the sole one you do have respect for out of the two", he said as you reached the area other horses already grazed in.

"Maybe I shall", you chuckled along with him as you both slipped the reins of your equines heads, not needing to lead them further as they already knew the grounds better than you and happily trotted away.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As the heavily armed guards -one of them being who'd sought you out earlier- parted, you entered the immense hall in the kingdom's heart. Light from afar, as well as hanging above, you lit up the vast expanse of the space. However, these were not the things you concentrated on. Your eyes were perched upon who'd spotted you the second you walked into the hall.

Simultaneously as Thranduil rose from his throne and headed down the stairs. You walked across the trail leading to the ground that his sign of authority was bestowed upon. Concerning your way of travel was longer than his, the moment you reached him, he'd already stopped in the centre of the circular platform, crossed his arms and let jewelled fingers tap his rope clad bicep.

"You made me wait".

"What was it you called on me for?" You brushed past his comment about you arriving much later than the guard who had meant to bring you with him, knowing it had no significance to the original intention of speaking with you. Something made even more apparent when neither he dwelled too long by it.

"You endangered the task". You withstood the urge to roll your eyes as you had done when speaking to Legolas now a few sets of minutes earlier. Knowing it would simply sour the King's mode even more. But it was not merely because he found something to comment on this time, like so many previously. It was what he decided was the fault.

You had been ordered to fend off the spiders slowly creeping into the borders of your lands, destroy their nest as well. However, what none of you had been prepared for was how fast those foul creatures had infested the forest. Quickly you realised you were outnumbered even if being a whole patrol sent out. Thus it had shifted from being a mission of extinction to a battle of survival.

Legolas and Tauriel had the support they needed. Even you did by your sister and brothers in arms. However, there had been a duo that did not. You had spotted them in the edge of your vision, fighting six of those spawns. None, apart from you, seemed to have spotted them. Hence, the decision had been easy.

Without as much as a second thought, you made your way to the trees to easier reach your companions. Regarding how your path on the ground was blocked with a field of spiders

You reached the two guards that barely fended for themselves. Helping them escape death by a hair's breadth. Although, not without any sort of urgency still remaining when not the spiders crawled in equally as big masses around you. One of them had been scratched by the foul creatures strong leg, the other slightly worse, having been bitten and venom quickly tiring them. You'd shouted for Tuariel, knowing the position from anything from Dol Guldur worked quicker than any other known. Upon seeing what happened, she'd called for a retreat.

"I would not-"

"But you did", he cut you off. Those blue eyes he shared with Legolas-but for some reason, was even more profound- narrowing. "All of you could have fallen for those creatures because of your acts". Your jaw clenched. He was wrong.

"No, solely I could have". That was when Thranduil cocked his head, arms falling from being enlaced with one another.

"You are interpreting this wrong". Your brows furrowed as the Sindarin elf said this, gaze following him as he now walked to the side, eyeing the land of his kingdom. "You think I speak of your acts of saving the two guards by leaving your closed ranks. Offering a sore spot for those spawns of Dol Guldur to break you up".

Indeed. You thought Thranduil would condemn you for not letting your brother in arms fall victims to the spiders on account of not protecting people that very well did well on their own. But upon his words of you being wrong, as well as he now looked back at you, lips pressing into a thin line, you knew what he thought of. Still, it seemed the King wanted to make you confess what he thought was the fault.

"You offered to stay at the back of the retreating group. Ending up not only fending off those spawns following you but also chasing those who escaped to their nest". Thranduil's tone was one you only could curtly tip your head at before answering.

"I did".

"The order was to retreat".

"It was". Despite nails pressing as firmly into your hands intertwined behind your back, you could not stop yourself from continuing to speak. "I fail to see why you called me here, my King. I saved to men in your guard, as well did I complete the task you set for us. I have possibly not-"

"What if your decision of going after those creatures set the rest in danger? You did not know if they were being followed after your withdrawal. Thus, you only went after the creatures you saw", his voice was stern, ringing an octave lower but louder in general. "I expect discipline in my guard. A Captain's order is to be followed. You acted out of line".

You had been able to hold yourself together until that point. When hearing what sounded but nothing else than personal distaste and not the caution of a King. "Tauriel gave me permission to hunt those-"

"But she did not approve of going to their nest". Thranduil turned his body to face you, nothing but tension twisting his features.

"That was a means to an end".

"One that could have costed your lives”.

"Then step out there yourself, Thranduil. Watch what you would do in my stead. I am sure you would act the same as soon as you set a foot outside of these halls", your voice did not carry your words in the same overly calm fashion as his. And even if you wanted to accentuate your words by motioning your hand to the land beyond the safety inside the realms walls, you remained perfectly still with your arms. "Out there, there is no correct way of acting. Whatever gives you, maybe only your companions, the highest chance of survival is the path you follow. I chose to do what I did today to not let anyone else in this realm run the risk of being hurt, or worse, killed by those creatures".

"Dismissed!" His voice was an echo, a heavy contrast to the curt flick of his wrist from where he had started, momentarily stopped, to ascend the stairs. You had a thousand more things you wanted to say, but the command of your King made you grit your teeth and silence yourself.

You locked your gaze with his during the curt nod and slight bow you gave him. Not breaking it afore sharply turning on your heel and heading out the same way you came.

The doors were already opening when you still had a great distance to them. And despite what your brain told you, that it would be evident from how you quickened your step to reach them sooner, something Thranduil would not miss from how you felt his eyes bore into you, that you were not upset but offended. You did just that. Agitated by his nerve of saying... you exhaled harshly through your nose, a noise the elf still gazing at you could not hear. More so, the ones ahead of you.

But it was not solely the guard, rather the very Prince you had spent some time with beforehand. You had not expected to see him again, both of you having duties of your own to fill the remaining hours of daylight with. Although, there he stood, very much noticing both your sound of frustration and the frown souring your facial expression.

"What-"

"The usual", Legolas had not been able to ask the question of what had gone down this time afore you gave him your answer. Indicating Thranduil had berated your efforts of being a soldier levelled with his son and the Captain of his guard as he always did.

"I will speak to him", he said as you passed, apparently about to see his father as well. Though his consolation did little to ease your frustration.

"He has not and will not change his mind no matter the amount you try to convince him otherwise", was all you left Legolas with as you continued down the hall.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The sun and moon had switched positions four times now, meaning it was four days since you met with Thranduil. Albeit still letting out the occasional huff of annoyance, your temper had settled. Predominantly, because you had not seen a glimpse of either the elf himself. Or anyone who could care to talk about your interaction with him. In other words, the Prince of Mirkwood.

It was nothing against Legolas, but occasionally, things could not be solved by talking about them. Stowing in your own bitterness until it lost its meaning was sometimes better. No matter what others said. And concerning your time awake had been filled with work for the guard and other things. You had not been given much time to let your mind stray. Simply kept busy thinking about new matters constantly.

It had done you good. In fact... so good that you had worked through all your duties, other than your few daily ones. Which had not meant to be done until a lunar cycle had passed. Hence, you had a lot of free time to do as you pleased.

As usual -when having even the sparest of moments to yourself- you did not linger inside the kingdoms innermost walls. Instead, you ventured outside.

The day was beautiful as it only was in the summer. Lush leaves are highlighted even more by the sun from above. The trees peaks waving just slightly in the warm wind. The wheater granting you permission to change out of the attire you wore most of the days to for once feel the softness of a robe.

There was not much as the like of gardens in the elven kingdom in Mirkwood. Instead, there was the backside of the palace where plateaux, as well as the restricted blossoming of groves, existed. Any sort of trees from the pretty cherry blossom, fruit giving ones and even striped birch. The grounds war so unlike those outside the kingdom's walls, despite them both being entirely wild. However, that was not all.

The river running beneath the halls revealed itself as a waterfall until soon turning into a more powerful stream. Later it turned into a flood, wild and twisting like a snake, continuing all the way to the Long lake. To see, not even the lake itself, merely the powerful stream leading to it, you needed to go beyond the border where guards vigilantly watched for any threats. The one that to you still war nothing more than a glimpse in the distance.

You could hear the cascade of water, albeit did not see it from how you were strolling down the hilled side a few days past had walked up from. There was no other reason you were here then to meet Séilfa. And, upon entering the enclosure -that was still big enough it could be called wilderness- you whistled the tone you always did to catch the attention of your stallion.

You were lucky today, regarding how you soon heard the familiar whinny coming from one of the groves and did not need . A few seconds later, you also spot your chestnut colour horse trotting towards you from the treeline. Not able to not break into a smile as Séilfa whips his head while his ears flicker forwards.

"Hey there", you greet him as he comes to a halt in front of you, though not until he is given the apple you had picked on the way does he properly welcome your presence.

The russet steed with his black mane and white irregular star on his forehead had truly smitten you ever since you stumbled upon him. He had not been like other horses, easily ridden and fooled by bribes to do as one wanted. But with you, he had become manageable, quickly more than that. Trust was built between the two of you. So much he had been crowned your own horse by everyone in the guard. Seeing how none other was let upon his back.

And that was why you so often came and dwelled in his presence those times you were free of duties. Like now.

However, as you stood there cooing at the mustang and the animal playfully nipping towards your face, something you chuckled at before the both of you calmed and Séilfa let you pet his muzzle, you did not notice the person who had spotted you.

"So that one is yours?" You were broken from the spell of your companion snuggling into your palm by not only the voice but how your stallion instantly jerked his head upwards. And though you were not the sole one looking towards where the voice came from, you were the single one whose eyes narrowed upon spotting Thranduil.

You did not know of why he was here, walking so casually in none of his excessive royal garments, merely a tunic as most of the guards -like yourself- wore when not on patrol. Your mood was souring because he did inflict upon a time where you had thought you could be alone. And the words he had announced himself with did not make it any better.

"I have never spoken of your companion with such tone. I request for you to do the same". There was no reason you could fault the magnificent elk Thranduil had the honour of calling his companion and roamed even more unrestricted than any of your horses. But that did not matter. You are protective over your mustang, especially when the judgment was so clear against the horse you had gone back to petting. And it seemed Séilfa felt it as well or at least was not comfortable with the new person who has joined you. Hence, his ears flickered back and forth continuously while angling his head the way the King was coming closer.

He did not say anything about your remark, but you thought you spotted a nod -which it could not possibly be, you told yourself- in your peripheral. Moving so you would not let your mind play any other tricks, you now stod at Séilfa's side, combing through his mane.

"Will I be introduced, or is that something I have to do myself?"

Eyes shifting to Thranduil, your head tilted somewhat. "I may be one of your guards, but I am not a servant". You replied shortly, the tall elf moving the same way as previously. Now when facing him, you saw that he had nodded earlier. However, it was not a pure nod of understanding. The action had a slight tilt at the end. Changing the meaning of it so drastically. So much you did not know what to make of it.

Even if you have never seen his head tilted any way but upwards. A nod would have looked more natural than this. Whatever this altered gesture of his head truly was meant to represent, it looked... uncharacteristic. Immensely so.

You were only grateful that the King's gaze was not set upon you to witness that the narrow of your brow had turned into one of confusion. Instead, it was upon your stallion. The rust coloured horse cared little for you managing the waterfall braid you started to work his mane into. All his focus is on Thranduil.

The elf extended his hand, but instead of muzzling his palms as he had done with yours -or even sniffing it- Séilfa simply snorted at the attempt before forcing you to take a few steps backwards to not get crushed by him as he moved away. You bit back a chuckle. However, the smile tugging your lips was not as easy to fend off.

"Attitude, like her owner".

"Like his owner", you corrected Thranduil, eyes averting for just a second to glance up at him before shifting back to the mane you simply held for a moment afore continuing.

"How did he become yours?" You felt a twitch in your brow as you stared at your braiding hands.

"He was a general horse but ended up not being ridden by anyone. He is rather opinionated".

"I did notice", he said, but for some reason, it did not feel like a reprimand against your companion this time around. It simply sounded like a reflection and agreement to what you had said.

"It is hard not to". You finished the braid you had done, but without a tie and the urgency of your colt to escape the presence of somebody that Séilfa did not favour disabling you to do a makeshift knot of grass, you let go of your creation. It held up for now. But by nightfall, it would have fallen out of place.

You were not aggrieved by the fact. What you were unhappy with, however, was how you were left with the King alone.

"I have not seen you in this environment". You kept silent rather than voice what rested upon your tongue. You have never endeavoured to go further than your throne to witness it.

"Neither have I", you settled on replying. Trying to maim your bitterness better than the last time you two were in each other's presence.

"Yet it seems we are here for the same reasons". You glanced at Thranduil through the corner of your eye, not moving any further when you noticed his eyes were set upon your retreating companion.

So you may have gotten it explained why he was here, to visit his horned friend. But the new question was why he lingered like this in your presence. Few times, if ever, did you exchange words outside his halls. And when thinking about it, you may never even have seen the King outside it apart from when he watched over his guard's training periodically. So why did he engage in any type of conversation with you now? One that was not filled with even one purely negative comment so far.

"Legolas spoke to me", now, without being able to use your companion as a distraction, you could not hide behind an aimless task. Thus, Thranduil saw just how you reacted to his comment when you turned towards him with a narrowed brow.

Never. That was how many times the King had made any mention of speaking to Legolas. If you were not as close to the Prince as you were and he explicitly said he talked to his father, neither would you have known about it. So, for that information to not come from him but Thranduil was something that took you off guard.

Despite your shock and the question of what they talked about remained absent because of it, the King continued speaking.

"He spoke of you".

"What about?" You sounded harsh, perhaps because you already knew what Legolas had said to his father. He had told you, after all. But it was not solely because of that. You could not understand why the elven King told you anything of what he was. And the switch was something ostensibly unnatural.

"Mostly about your actions, defending them. But he mentioned something else as well". His eyes locked with yours, but... you could not read what was going on in them. They were always expressive, even if his features remained stoic and indifferent. Whereas now, you could not make sense of what you witnessed.

"Legolas cited you respect me as nothing but a King". Valar curse you, Greenleaf. You would have muttered it aloud if not Thranduil had stood beside you, now also turning towards you. "Is that true?"

"Yes, my King", you knew you did not need to elaborate. Thus if Legolas had told his father this much. He already knew the rest of your sentence -therefore reasoning- as well. Still, it seemed your clarification that his son had not conjured the words out of thin air came as... somewhat of a surprise. At least seeing from how his eyebrows raised while giving you a near bottomless nod compared to earlier. An understanding one.

Albeit silence was what you thought would follow and his presence to leave you, none of that happened. His eyes merely flickered -yet another thing you had never seen- for a few seconds afore settling to meet your gaze once more as he spoke.

"I never foresaw I would tell you any of this. Not until I saw you today". Despite having argued with Thranduil before -when agitation laced his voice while his frame could become even more intimidating from his powerful gestures- never had you been as jittery as now. Especially not when he continued speaking. "I had not even given it a thought, not when remarking Legolas have drawn the similarities unconsciously. Not until now".

"Similarities of what?"

"You remind me of my late wife".

The mother of Legolas? The women he said his father would not answer any questions about as if she had not existed? Yes, those had been the words coming out of Thranduil's mouth.

Your lips opened and closed thus... what could you say to that? Nothing, at least you did not need to say anything, concerning how Thranduil seemingly had anticipated your response or lack thereof.

"You are clearly not the same person, but you have some of her attributes". Sacrificial, a sharp tongue and strong-willed, Legolas words from two days prior echoed in your mind. You had never met his mother, thus despite being a few hundred years older than him, you had not settled in Mirkwood as of after her death. But maybe he saw similarities between the two of you even though not even taking any notice he did.

Legolas was not an elfing when she passed. Hence he would have memories of her. And, maybe that was also why he thought you did not make it easy for his father to like you because you acted on the same instinct as her.

You had heard how she passed. It had been in the fortress of Gundabad after the wars waged upon the ancient land of Angmar. There had been nothing after her death. No grave. No words. No memory. Legolas had once told you he almost believed his father was angry at her. Thus, she had not died by his side. It had been by leaving it to protect her people, taking their stead to face death.

It was easier to forget than forgive, the Prince of Mirkwood had said when reflecting over his father's loathe towards the matter.  He must have been right, you thought, if anger was the reason Thranduil repressed everything about his wife, then so would it be awakened if you threatened and even acted on the same basis as she once did. 

But why would he even think about you that much it roused feelings buried so deep inside? What did it mean when he told you about this...? About something that not even his son had in all the years of her passing?

"I hope you will respect me as more than a King, one day". As he said this, it clicked. It clicked why you were on his mind for possibly longer than your physical stay in his throne hall.

He may not see you as the same as his late wife, but could it possibly be that you awoke the same feelings? Maybe not as intense at the moment or that it ever would be, but the same which she once had. Could you truthfully rouse something that the elven King fought long and hard for to remain dormant?

"Only if you respect me", you found yourself unable to answer with anything else than the same exact words you had whilst speaking to Legolas. Mind too far away, even if you were looking into his eyes.

"I have found that I already do", out of everything he had said, this was what made your eyes widen. But out of all the times you did seek any kind of further comment from him, Thranduil commenced walking away while what he just said was left hanging in the air.

[the-iceni-bitch]

The Days and Nights are Long

Pairing: clueless!Colin Shea x clueless!fem Reader

Words: ~4K

Summary: You and Colin are being idiots and it’s driving his band crazy.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, squirting), idiots in love, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: It took way longer than I had planned but here’s some more of our drunk, musical idiots in love for you hoes!!! I love them so, even though they’re morons. Tagging my Colin babes @starlightcrystalline and @wayward-blonde because I know they’ve been waiting for this.

I no longer do taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Colin shook his head and shrugged uncomfortably as he stared at his phone, wracking his brain to think of what exactly he should say to you.

“For fuck’s sake, Shea, just ask her to come up.” Matt looked exasperated, twirling his stick through his fingers as he rolled his eyes when Colin scowled at him.

He’d been moping for the past two weeks, ever since the two of you had slept together. All of his bandmates were getting sick of it, the man was the biggest pouty baby on the face of the planet. If they had to listen to him sing Everybody Hurts one more time they were going to kill him.

So they’d come up with a little plan to get him out of his funk, lining up a gig that would really lend itself better to a female vocalist and feigning innocence when Colin pointed that out. They had really enjoyed hanging out with you on that exceptionally hot evening, and if having you join them again was the only way to get their boy out of his funk, even better. He had actually smiled before pulling his phone out, but then he realized he had no idea what he should say.

The two of you had still been cordial whenever you ran into each other, but there was definitely a strain to your interactions now. No matter how much you both told each other it wasn’t awkward, it was definitely awkward. It was also weird that he was pretty sure you hadn’t come home after 1 AM at all in the last two weeks, and you usually at least spent your weekend nights at some other asshole’s apartment. Not that he’d had any visitors either, but he didn’t want to explore that too much.

He was still staring at his phone screen and trying to come up when some nonchalant greeting that would entice you to come sing with them when the phone was suddenly plucked out of his hand by an exasperated looking Keith, who ignored his spluttering as he typed a quick message before tossing the phone back to him.

“You’re thinking about this too hard.” The bassist said, setting to tuning his instrument and chuckling at the indignant look on Colin’s face.

Colin was about to give a snarky reply when he felt his phone buzz and looked down to see a text from you, grinning when he saw you saying you’d be right up. With an exclamation point! He didn’t even notice the pleased grins his bandmates were giving each other as they watched him start to tune his guitar, plucking a happy little tune and humming to himself.

They were all expecting you to come through the main door from the stairs, so when you shouted hello from behind them after climbing up your fire escape, you were greeted with the sight of five grown men almost jumping out of their skins before turning to greet you.

That grin on your face was enough to make Colin melt, all the awkwardness that had been lingering between you disappearing in an instant when you met each other’s eyes.

“Alright boys!” You took the mic Brad handed you with a warm smile, rolling it in one hand as you trailed the cord through your fingers. “You said you needed my help with something Col, what’s up?”

“Right, these idiots lined up a gig for us without consulting me first.” They all avoided his halfhearted glare with doe eyed innocence, focusing on their instruments. “And, well, the set list isn’t really in my range.”

“Lemme see.” You took the sheet of paper from his hand and scanned it quickly. “That’s a whole lot of girl rock.”

“Yeah, like I said, Ann Wilson and I aren’t really in the same register.” Fuck, it was nice to be able to talk to you again.

“Why don’t you just modulate it, then?” You mumbled absentmindedly.

He gaped like a fish at that question. He honestly hadn’t even thought about it, and even if he had, he wasn’t expecting you to know about modulation.

“If we modulate for him, none of us can hit the harmonies.” Craig piped up from behind the keyboards, and he could have kissed him.

“That right?” You teased, shooting a wicked smirk around at them. “You boys sure you didn’t just miss me?”

Colin tried not to sound too hysterical when he let out a laugh, missing the indulgent eye rolls his band mates were giving behind your backs.

“What do you think, we booked a gig where I can’t sing any of the songs on purpose just so we could hang out again?” Good thing he was pretty, the man was clueless.

“No, you’re not that clever, Col.” He made a mock wounded gesture and you grinned at him, looking over the set list some more. “What kind of gig is this anyway?”

“Yeah, Craig, you never told us what the actual gig was.” Colin and the rest of the band gave the keyboardist a variety of inquisitive stares.

“Uh, it’s a bachelorette party.” He mumbled, avoiding making eye contact with his bandmates when they started groaning.

“Fuck, Craig! I do not want to get felt up by a bunch of drunk, horny women!” Colin threw a balled up sheet of music at you when you started laughing.

“That seems right up your alley, Shea.” You teased, dodging when he threw a pillow from the couch at you. “You don’t want to pick up some rowdy bridesmaid?”

“No, they’re scary aggressive.” He shuddered when he thought about the last bachelorette party they had done, they’d practically ripped the band’s clothes off before they could get out of there.

“Aww, well I’ll be there to shield you this time, sweetie.” You winked at him and moved a little closer to everyone. “Let’s practice, boys. Don’t want to give those girls cause to complain.”

---------------------------------------------------------

It was the day of the gig, and you and Colin had decided to drive together to streamline things. He was waiting in your living room and tapping his foot nervously as he waited for you to finish getting ready, anxious about what actually performing with you would be like.

“Y/N, we need to go!” He never thought you would be the type to take forever getting ready.

“Yeah, I know!” You strolled out to the living room with a grin on your face and he had to swallow a groan. “How do I look?”

“Good, really good.” The way he was looking at you made your grin grow even wider.

The outfit wasn’t even that special, just a denim mini skirt and a tight v-neck tee with a leather jacket. Oh, and thigh high leather boots. It was definitely the boots he was staring at, his eyes trained on the few inches of bare skin between the top of the boots and the hem of your skirt. You gave him a couple minutes to just stare at you before rolling your eyes and strolling towards your front door, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him after you.

“C’mon Shea, we don’t wanna be late.” You scolded, shoving his amp into his hand and slinging his guitar case over your shoulder before heading down the stairs.

He had trouble focusing on the road as he drove you to the bar the party was going to be at, all he wanted to do was memorize the way you looked in that outfit. It was like someone told you exactly what to wear to drive him crazy. Maybe bringing you into this gig hadn’t been the best idea, because all he wanted to do right now was pull over and let you ride him while you weren’t wearing anything except for those boots and that jacket, and maybe whatever lingerie you had on under that outfit.

“Colin, you’re going to miss the turn.” Your voice snapped him out of his little daydream, and he cursed as he took the turn towards the bar a little faster than he would have liked.

“Sorry, just got a little distracted.” He mumbled, slowing down as he turned into the alley behind the bar and put the car in park behind Matt’s van.

The rest of the band was already unloading, waving at you two as Colin shut off his vehicle and you stepped out. You actually gave Craig and Keith little side hugs before you started helping with the unloading, he hadn’t realized you guys had gotten that close over the past week, and for some reason it made him smile.

“How’s it going man?” He didn’t know how he felt about the look Matt was giving him as he helped carry the bass drum inside, it felt suggestive of something. “Y/N seems excited to be here.”

“Yeah, I thought she might be nervous about performing but she’s handling everything like a pro.” He watched you laugh at something Brad said as you worked on connecting your mic. “Maybe we should make her an official member.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Matt just shrugged, laughing when Colin rounded on him and started spluttering.

“I was joking! We can’t just ask Y/N to be in the band!” Could they? Having you around had been a lot of fun, and the band dynamic had helped alleviate some of the tension that had been growing between you two. But seeing you tonight looking like you did and knowing that you were gonna have to have some on stage chemistry to make this work was making him think twice about things. You got a little intense during rehearsals, and the added pressure of being on stage might make him combust if you kicked it up at all.

Matt shook his head at him and set to assembling his kit while the rest of the band started tuning and connecting their instruments. You just sat on a stool and sipped some water, running through a couple vocal exercises absentmindedly as you scrolled through your phone. It only took a couple of minutes for everyone to finish setting up and then it was mic checks all around.

Everything sounded good and balanced after a couple adjustments and the sound guys gave you the thumbs up to start warming up. Colin couldn’t stop watching you. You were so unbelievably relaxed on stage and it was just endearing you to him even more. He thought for sure you would have been a bundle of nerves but you seemed to be right in your element, tossing him a couple of lazy grins over your shoulder as you ran through a couple of songs before the partygoers started filtering in.

The band switched to doing some instrumental ambience shit while they waited for the party to really get going, and Colin wandered over to talk to you when you took a step back from your mic.

“Still feeling ok about this?” He asked, beaming back at the soft smile you gave him.

“Yeah, I’m excited.” You bounced on your toes a little, adrenaline flooding your veins as the crowd grew. “Think I’ll get any bras thrown at me?”

“You never know with bachelorettes.” He laughed, strolling back over to his own mic so he could introduce the band.

If he thought jamming with you was special, it was nothing compared to watching you perform. You were a goddamn natural, coming alive and feeding off the crowd’s energy until you were completely lost in the music. Every time his eyes met yours you were grinning at him, and your chemistry with the rest of the band was palpable.

Not to mention, you kept drifting close to him on the stage, brushing your hand over his shoulders or leaning against him when you harmonized and it was making his knees weak. , God, he could do this with you every night, even though he was pretty sure he was going to need to sneak into the bathroom to jerk off afterwards.

The show was over too soon, the extremely drunken crowd of rowdy bachelorettes finally getting crazy enough that the band was ready to make a hasty escape. You were bouncing on your toes with residual energy as you started helping the guys pack up their instruments, grabbing Colin’s amp after he shoved his guitar in the case and you both made a run for it to his car when a wobbly woman started to try to climb on the stage.

“Colin, holy fuck that was so much fun!” You managed to make it to the alley unscathed and were giving him the most heartbreaking grin. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

“Yeah? Well you did a great fucking job.” Goddamn it, he’d missed you. “We can do whatever you want, honey.”

“Really?” You slammed the trunk closed and started to prowl closer to him. “Whatever I want?”

“That is what I said.” He could feel his voice dropping into that low register that meant he was in desperate need of some sort of release, so he really hoped he wasn’t misreading this situation. “Why? Did you want something now?”

“I think I do.” Your chest was right against his and you could feel it heaving, gazing at him through your lashes while you ran your fingers over his abs. “I stole the keys to the van.”

“And, you wanna go on a joy ride?” He breathed deep when you brushed your lips over his, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“Or, we could just fuck in the back while the rest of the guys search for these.” You pulled back a little and jingled the keys in his face, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth while he ran his hands over your hips.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He smashed his lips to yours and let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your ass while the two of you stumbled towards the side door of the van.

You fumbled with the keys for a minute because you didn’t want to take your mouth off Colin for any reason, but then you were sliding the door open and the two of you were falling inside in a tangle of limbs before somehow managing to kick the door closed behind you. Trying to undress each other was a little difficult with how wrapped up you were in each other but you managed, tossing your garments away haphazardly as your tongues curled tangled together. Colin grabbed your hands when you went to remove your boots, pulling them up to his face and kissing your palms before winding your arms around his neck.

“Keep those on.” His voice was a low growl and fuck, you forgot how sexy he was.

“Well, cannot say I’m surprised you're a little kinky, Col.” You wound your fingers through his hair and yanked, purring at the groan he gave you. “I’m gonna suck that pretty dick of yours, but then I’ll give it to you nice and rough.”

“God, baby.” He wished he didn’t sound so whiny when you started kissing your way down his chest, but he hadn’t gotten any release except from his hand for the past two weeks and he really needed you to keep doing what you were doing. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“Yeah? Knew you were a good boy.” You winked at him when you started kissing the skin above the band of his boxer briefs before you were yanking them down his thighs and immediately licking a heavy stripe up the underside of his cock when it sprung up against his abs.

Colin had to brace a hand against the side of the van when you worked him over, spitting on his tip and watching it drip down his length before spreading it over him with your lips. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a nice, smooth stroke as you ducked down between his length to press gentle kisses over his balls while you jerked him off. He almost choked on his tongue when you wrapped your lips around his sack and tugged softly, the hum you let out sending a vibration up his spine while your thumb swiped over his swollen tip.

The sounds he was making from just a handjob were enough to soak through the thin lace of your panties, and when he shouted your name when you moved a little lower and teased your tongue over his asshole, well you almost fucking came just from that. You couldn’t believe you had stupidly waited two fucking weeks before indulging in this man again, you finally felt like yourself again. It was driving you absolutely crazy, the way his hips were wriggling underneath you spurring you on until you couldn’t take it any more.

If he thought your hand was incredible, it was nothing compared to the feel of your lips wrapped around his tip while your tongue swirled around his sensitive head. With all the women he’d slept with, he’d definitely suffered through some mediocre and downright disappointing blow jobs. But you felt like you were about to suck the soul out of him, and you’d only just started.

“Ah, Christ.” He was going to pass out if you kept going like this, your mouth was like fucking heaven. “Honey, fuck.”

You shot him a wicked look when you started bobbing your head, taking him just a little deeper each time while your tongue curled around him as much as possible. Then you opened your throat and swallowed him whole and he lost his mind.

He wrapped his hand in your hair and held your head still as he started fucking your throat, his hips bucking wildly while you choked and sputtered around him. Drool was running down your chin and soaking his thighs as you started breathing through your nose, digging your fingers into his thighs while he used you like a fuck toy. You kept your tongue pressed flat against your bottom teeth to avoid choking on it, moaning softly when you tasted the salty tang of his precum hit your tongue. His grip on your hair was growing painful, and you could tell by the way his abs were twitching that he was close.

“Wait, ah shit!” He somehow managed to gather enough self control to pull out of your mouth, groaning at the long string of saliva that kept you connected even as you bit at your swollen lips. “I’m not coming unless it’s in that pretty pussy. How do you want it?”

“Fuck me from behind, Col.”

He growled as he sat up and smashed his lips to yours, savoring the taste of himself on your tongue before flipping your over and burying his face in your hair. You let out a low moan when he slammed into you with no warning, gasping at the punishing pace he was setting and purring when he started mouthing at your neck.

The van was shaking like some sort of cliche while Colin fucked into you with abandon, his hips bouncing off your ass in an obscene display while the two of you whined and panted together. Colin was going to lose his fucking mind, two weeks with barely even talking to you and now he was finally inside you it was all he could do to not go completely feral.

“Oh god, honey.” He was practically whining against your skin when you clenched around him, sucking your ear lobe between his lips while you arched your back and purred for him. “Fuck, you’re so tight and wet. Pussy so fucking good. Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you come.”

“So close, Colin, shit!” You gasped when he hit you deep, curling your body backwards around him and reaching over your shoulder to wind your fingers through his hair and press his lips to yours. “Need that dick so bad. Feel so good when you’re inside me.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He wound one hand around your neck and the other arm around your waist, holding you close while he kissed you deeply and swallowed your wanton mewls with a deep groan. “Come for me.”

His hips ground against you and you slapped the floor of the van when you came, sobbing into his mouth and vibrating underneath him while your pussy strangled his cock. Your teeth nipped at his lips once you were finished, humming happily as he continued fucking you through your high.

“Need more, Colin.” You whimpered when he started slowing down, trying to thrust your hips back towards him as you tried to bring yourself to the edge again. “Harder, I need it.”

“Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.” He tugged at your lips with his teeth, squeezing your neck gently and groaning at your soft whimper as you clenched around him. “Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

You couldn’t respond when he started pounding into you furiously, the way his cock was punching against your soft walls making it a little hard to breathe, never mind thinking. He was hitting every spot you needed him to with each thrust, grunting into your ear each time his hips slammed into you until he felt your breath hitch.

Every time he bottomed out you thought you were going to pass out, the tip of his cock punching against your cervix and making you see stars. It was so good, he was hitting you so deep and smooth you couldn’t believe you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Colin growled when a particularly vicious push had your entire body rising off the floor of the van, your fluttering sigh sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. One more thrust and you lost it, screaming with ecstasy as every muscle in your body vibrated and you squirted all over Colin’s thighs and the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, baby.” Colin was desperate, his rhythm completely gone as he chased his own end while you fluttered around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy up until I’m leaking outta you for the next week.”

“Oh god, please.” Your eyes rolled up in your head while you let him use you, his lips tracing your jaw hungrily as you pushed your hips back to meet his. “Give it to me, Colin.”

He buried his face in your neck and let out a strangled cry when his hips stuttered, thick, warm ropes of white shooting against your soft walls until he was collapsing on top of you with a sated moan. You tangled your fingers with his above your head as your breathing regulated, his breath hot on your neck while the two of you melted into each other.

“We’re not waiting two weeks again, right?” Colin’s arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled into your hair, his lips spreading in a slow smile when he felt you purr contentedly.

“Nope. I’m definitely gonna need this to happen on the regular.” You turned a little so you could rub your nose against his. “You know, in between our other, normal escapades.”

“Right.” His heart fell a little at that, but maybe just interspersing his trysts with you with his other one night stands would help flush his crush on you out of his system.

Before he had a chance to say anything else there was a sudden pounding at the van door, snapping the two of you out of your haze with a pair of exasperated groans.

“Shea!!!” You untangled yourselves as you started to pull on your clothes. “That had better be Y/N in there! If you sad fucked some bachelorette and we have to listen to you sing stupid breakup songs for the next month I’m going to kill you!”