#happy davys dead day!!!

[motherlvr]

love me better, listen more.

wc: 3.2k

Pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader

Summary: After Miles' father died, everything changed. Including your relationship with Miles.

Warnings: angst w/ happy ending, cursing, friends to strangers to lovers, angry makeout session, Flash Thompson exists here

A/N: honestly my fav fic i've made so far, im literally running out of photos for him. im gunna have to start using photos of his jordans

As you walked home, an arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind, "¿Cómo está mi ángel hoy?" Miles’ voice flowed through your ears.

He called you his, but you weren't lovers.

You were slightly startled but immediately recognized him. Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “Your ángel, huh? That’s a new one.” smiling up at him.

"It suits you." Miles gave you a wink.

Usually, he called you 'ma'. So his switch-up today made you narrow your eyes at him skeptically. "What's with the good mood today? No 'ma'?" You tilted your head at him.

Shrugging it off, he said, "What, I can't be happy to see my girl?" He had a point, except for the fact that you weren't his girl.

You laughed and shook your head at him, "By all means, go ahead." As he accompanied you on your way home, you realized he made your walk home much more pleasant. Arriving at your house, you told him "This is me. Thanks for walking me today." You gave him a light peck on his cheek.

"Course. Make sure to wear that outfit I like tomorrow, mami." He teased with a grin, only half serious.

Rolling your eyes at him, you smiled, "You're insufferable. Adiós, Miles!" You waved as you walked up to your doorstep.

"Chao, princesa." Walking away, his mood felt lighter. He walked home with a little more liveliness than usual.

For reasons unknown, Miles walking you home was becoming a reoccurring event. Within the next few weeks, he walked you home more often than not. You started to look forward to it as you searched for him after school.

As you both walked down the street of your neighborhood for what seemed to be the hundredth time, you approached your house. As you both stood in front of your house, you turned to him and said, "Thanks for walking me home, Miles." You placed a kiss on his cheek. It seemed to be turning into a daily routine now.

"Anytime, princesa. Hasta luego." He smirked at you and watched you walk into your house before leaving.

Little did you know, that would be the last time he walked you home in a while.

Later that evening, you kicked your feet up on your couch and turned on the television. The first channel that popped up was the news channel. Reading the headline, your heart dropped into your stomach. It read,

"Police Captain Jefferson Davis Found Dead At 44.”

"Holy shit." You gasped. In an instant, you dropped the remote and tried to contact Miles. You tried calling but were sent immediately to voicemail. So you opted to text him, "I'm so sorry, Miles. I'm always here if you need to talk."

You left him multiple messages that night to no avail. The following day at school, you tried to scout him out in the halls. But he was never there. You would call if you thought he would answer.

Miles and you always confided in each other. There was a mutual trust between the two of you. However, within less than twenty-four hours, Miles' demeanor completely changed.

Leaving him another message after school, you said, "Where have you been? I'm worried, Miles. But you know that already. Sorry for the messages."

No response yet again. He didn't even bother to read it.

Weeks passed by with little to no contact from Miles. He seemed to entirely disappear. Your concern only grew for him. You haven't even seen him in the hallways at school. There was no denying it, you were starting to miss him.

Although, today was a new day. And for the first time in what felt like a century, you saw him in the hall. He looked a fright. There were new frown lines on his face that weren't there before. He looked slimmer, even. His smug smirk that would always adorn his face around you was no longer present. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him nonetheless. Jogging up to him, you called out.

"Miles, wait." You softly said as you delicately grabbed his arm, not to startle him. He paused, looking back but not into your eyes. He shook your grip off, never making eye contact with you. "I just need some time, alright?" He told you. But what does 'some time' entail? What if he just didn't want anything to do with you in general?

He walked away and didn’t look back.

You felt your heart break into two as you watched him fade away from your view. It broke for both him and you. Seeing him like this pained you. But at the same time, your heart ached as he pushed you away in the process.

Yet, you granted him his wish. You stopped looking for him in the hall. You stopped trying to message him. You stopped leaving voicemails. Maybe if you gave him some time, things would smooth out. Grief is a long process, after all. You couldn't blame him for grieving.

Weeks turned into months without any contact from Miles. And it didn't seem like he was going to break that any time soon.

You fell back into your old routine, the one where you'd never met Miles. He was merely a stranger that you thought too often about. You walked home without him next to you. And into class alone as well. You no longer looked forward to walking with him at the end of the day. The walks home were infuriatingly quiet.

Every day you arrived at your doorstep but never felt at home. You had a home, and he was it.

-----------

While you were getting books out of your locker, an arm slung around your shoulders. An almost familiar sensation. But it wasn't him. Far from him, actually.

Instead, it was no one other than Flash Thompson. His notorious blond hair and conceited attitude were tell-tale signs. You could almost smell the arrogance radiating off of him before you even acknowledged his presence.

"How are you, gorgeous?" He removed his arm from your shoulders to close your locker. Leaning his arm onto the locker above your head, he encased you on your locker with your back against it.

"I'm fine." You dryly responded, uninterested in his pursuits.

"That you are." He gave you a predatory smirk and winked at you. You mentally grimaced. "Anyway. You still with that Morales kid?"

Raising a brow at him, you respond, "We were never together.”

"Huh. He's always by your side, like an over-protective guard dog. So I assumed." Flash said. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. But that wasn't the case anymore. It hasn't been for some time.

This was one of the many times Flash had tried his advances on you. However, it never worked to his intentions since Miles was always there to tell him off. This time was different. Miles was nowhere in sight. At least, within your sight. Meaning Flash had an open opportunity with you. There was no Miles around to try and bite his head off.

"Yeah, well. Not anymore." You muttered. Suddenly feeling awkward, you directed your stare anywhere other than Flash's hungry gaze. An uncomfortable cold shiver ran down your spine.

Flash leaned in, his fingers pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. Whispering in your ear, he told you, "That's too bad. I could treat you better than him, though. He doesn't have to know, baby.”

You looked up at him and tried to hide the disgust that was forming on your face. But, hey. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, you tried to convince yourself. This was a chance to get over Miles. His hold on you was ridiculous, considering you were never actually together. You weren’t going to wait for him to crawl back to you.

You put a hand on Flash’s chest in an attempt to push him away from you. But he misinterpreted it and encased his palm over your hand that was laying on his chest. “See? You’re warming up to me already. You don’t need him.” He cockily said.

Turning your head away from him, you said, “I don’t know, Flash. I’ll think about it.” pretending to consider it. He gave you a displeased look, "What's there to think about? We would be good together, babe." he tried to persuade you. It was evident that he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Miles turned around the corner and instantly spotted you. He’s been skipping almost every day. All of a sudden, he felt glad that he didn’t skip today as he saw you with Flash Thompson. Way too close for his comfort. And then he saw your hand on Flash’s chest. That was his breaking point.

Miles saw nothing but red as he walked over to the two of you. If looks could kill, Flash would've been dealt with by the first second he walked around the corner. He sneered, "Back the fuck off my girl, Thompson." shoving him in the chest away from you.

You couldn’t believe him. After all that time, now is when he decides to make an appearance. He was the one that cut you out of his life. Not you, but him. Huffing at him, you spoke up before Flash did. "I'm not your girl. You've made that clear." You rolled your eyes in irritation.

Flash gave Miles a smug smirk at your words, "You heard her. So go fuck yourself, Morales." He spat at Miles, getting up close and personal with him. As Flash glared at Miles, it was clear he was trying to intimidate him. It wasn't working.

You almost didn't comprehend what was happening as a fist collided with Flash's face, knocking him down momentarily. He groaned in pain, holding onto his nose as blood dripped from it.

“What the fuck?” You screeched at Miles’ outburst. Flash was still laying on the floor, stumbling to get up. Before it could escalate further, you pulled Miles by his arm and dragged him into an empty supply closet. Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Miles? You don't speak to me for months and now you suddenly want something to do with me?" You said in disbelief.

He said bluntly, "I don't want to see you with him again."

His hands traveled over the curve of your hips to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You tried to get out of his touch. Or, you would've. But his hands on you felt too natural. He felt right.

That didn’t mean you’d let him off easy. This was the first conversation you both held in months.

"Well for the past few months, you didn't want to be seen with me either." You quipped, aggravated. His sudden change of heart polarized your emotions. You were conflicted with yourself.

He shook his head, “I’m sorry, mami. There’s shit going on that I couldn’t involve you in. I can’t bring you down with me.” He uncharacteristically apologized.

His words made you become hyper-aware of his hands on your waist. The way he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs. How you almost folded under his touch, but maintained your unbothered facade. No matter how much time has passed, he still made your heart race.

You scoffed at him and continued, "I’m not going to wait around for you like some lovesick puppy. Do you want me or not, Miles?"

Without a moment of hesitation, he quickly said, “You have no fucking idea.” Inspecting his eyes, you tried to find deception within them. What you saw in return was the gaze of a man starved.

“Then earn me.” Glaring up at him, you harshly retorted as you furrowed your brows at him. But one more look into each other's eyes was all it took for the tension to snap in half.

He grabbed you by the waist swiftly and pulled you in, your lips finally connecting. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your bodies pressed together against the wall of the closet, knocking over supplies. The pent-up frustrations inside of you came undone as you kissed him with all the fiery passion you could muster. You bit his lower lip, making him groan against your mouth. That was a sound you realized you'd love to hear on repeat. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony. Like they were made to fit each other.

His hand traveled to the back of your head into your hair as he pulled it softly, making you muffle a whimper into his mouth.

Miles pulled away for a split second to whisper with a smirk, "Cállate, hermosa. But I'm down if you want everyone to hear." His lips were hovering over yours, only seconds away. You felt both of your chests heaving against one another, his breath overlapping yours. You were sure he could feel your heartbeat.

"Fuck you, Miles." You briskly closed the small distance between both of your lips once again before he could make a crude remark about how 'you'd like that'.

You spent the rest of the class period cooped up with him in the minimal space of the supply closet.

-----------

After school, you looked for Miles. Something you've been restraining yourself from doing over these past few months. However, you were hoping things were different now. In a good way. You'd think spending some quality time in a supply closet together would change things.

But as you looked across the courtyard, Miles was nowhere to be seen. You felt irritated with him once again, but you weren’t going to let him cut you out of his life for a second time.

So you did what any rational person would do. You visited his house to talk with him. You believed that if you had a decent conversation with him, it would fix what broke between the two of you. After all, his mother did tell you that you were always welcome there. His house was the place the both of you created a collection of memories. Memories that you stayed up late thinking about. Before it all went downhill. Knocking on the door, his mother answered it.

You greeted her with a smile, "Hola, Mrs. Morales! Is Miles here?" She gave you a knowing look. Mrs. Morales always did have a knack for knowing exactly what was going on.

Nodding her head, she told you "You caught him at a good time. He's been in and out with his Uncle lately. Come on in." She promptly led you inside the house.

"Gracias, Mrs. Morales." You told her before you made a beeline for Miles' room. Stopping right in front of his door, you knocked. Silence came from the other side. "Miles, I'm going to come in. Please don't be naked." You covered your eyes with your palm as you opened his door.

You didn't hear any yells of protest, so you assumed it was safe to peek through your fingers. As you removed your hand from your face, you noticed he was climbing through his own window. But that's not what made you stop in your tracks. Rather, it was his attire. He wasn't naked by any means. Instead, he was wearing the infamous suit that you've seen on the news time and time again. Over the past few months. The correlation clicked in your brain. He wasn't purposely avoiding you for the last few months. His life was just turned upside down in more than one way. He turned into the Prowler.

He looked just as shocked as you while he climbed through his window. "Fuck, what are you doing here, mami?" He frantically asked.

Closing the door behind you, you said, "I came to speak to you, but it seems like all my questions are answered now." You felt numb.

He didn't have a response. He didn't know what to tell you. It was exactly what it looked like. There were no words exchanged, but much was said within those silent moments.

Breaking the silence, you exclaimed, "Y'know what? Forget it. Forget I came here. Matter of fact, forget we ever met." You just about had it. Miles, the one that used to walk you home, being the Prowler was not exactly something you predicted.

"You know I can't do that." He said. You started to back away from him, turning away. He grabbed your arm with a feather-like touch, despite wearing his steel claws. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you. Not physically, at least. "Just let me explain."

"What is there to explain? That you've been avoiding me for months because you're the Prowler? I don't think anything else needs to be said." You let out a faint melancholic chuckle.

He stared into your eyes as he removed his claws, gently grasping your shoulders. "Mami, just listen to me." He pleaded, "You understand now why I couldn't tell you. That's why I had to stay away. This business is the shit I can't have you affiliated with."

"If you don't want me affiliated, then don't join it." You snapped at him, pushing a finger into his chest.

Your response set off something inside of him as he blurted out, "I'm in love with you. Shit, I love you so fucking much. I always have. You're the only one that's ever on my mind, 'ight? If I permanently lost you, I'd never come back from that."

Those were precisely the words you've been waiting ages to hear. But not like this.

"Miles. I can't be a part of this. I don't want to do this 'back and forth' thing. I can't do this. Not with you." Turning your back on him again, you tried to hold your composure as you stepped away. Out of his grasp. You had no intention to break down in front of him. This time, you were the one walking away. You were going to be the one leaving him.

"Wait," He called out, his voice faltering. You were slipping through his fingers, right in front of his eyes. If he had to beg you to stay, so be it. Even after all that time apart, you've been the sole reason he woke up in the morning. He couldn't afford to let you leave him for good.

"Quédate conmigo, mami. Por favor. I can't lose you again." His voice trembled with desperation. Your steps hesitated, his words plunging knives directly into your heart. You've never seen him like this. And it was a sight you never wished to see again.

So you obliged. You might as well have taken what you said and thrown it in the trash. He had the ability to change your mind with only a few words. Turning back to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He reciprocated as he enveloped your waist with his arms.

You buried your face in his neck as you whispered, "Don't fucking do that again. Don't shut me out." You placed a light kiss on it. You continued, "I love you too, Miles." removing your face from his neck to stare up into his eyes.

"I promise, mami. It's only ever been you." He softly said, pressing his lips to yours. You kissed back with just as much delicacy.

You were aware it was an incredibly dangerous business Miles was involved in. For him, you'd give up anything. You hadn’t a clue what being involved with the Prowler would exactly entail. It was something you both would have to figure out together.

Your relationship was by no means perfect. But you were both learning. As long as it was with him, you wouldn't have it any other way.

-----------

¿Cómo está mi ángel hoy? - How's my angel today?

Princesa - Princess

Adiós/Chao - Bye

Cállate - Shut up, be quiet

Hermosa - Beautiful

Quédate conmigo - Stay with me

Por favor - Please

(yes the title is a childish gambino reference)

[alacants]

juanki & ferru: the lore

(or, why i am so abnormal about them.)

they've known each other since they were kids in valencia - juanki played youth tennis with ferru's older brother (who was a junior champion) and later ferru spent a year at the academy

"Even when we were little we played together… we have been friends since we were small."

they're self-described best friends + were joined at the hip on the circuit

tennis club unveils a statue of juanki in his hometown? ferru is there. ferru's family throws him a surprise birthday party? juanki is there. holding clinics. going on retreats. traveling to and from tournaments together. coordinating which tournaments they enter so they can travel to and from tournaments together. ← YES, REALLY.

in ferru's own words, "it's always better with him." ok.

they didn't actually play each other that often - their h2h is 7-2 in ferru's favor. they did famously meet in back to back finals in 2010 - appropriately, juanki won one and ferru won the other. :)

in 2009 juanki was called up to the davis cup team for the first time in 4 years. first he was supposed to be a reserve, then he was supposed to play a dead rubber. then fernando verdasco melted down, the fifth rubber became very live, and he ended up single-handedly saving the day and sending them to the sfs.

so when in the final ferru came back from 1-6 2-6 down to beat radek stepanek he immediately raced over to throw himself in juanki's arms, rip alberto costa who got in the way. then of course he dedicated the win to juanki.

the davis cup is just… a whole thing with both of them. so it's appropriate that now etc.

speaking of tournaments that are a whole thing with both of them. after juanki bought the rights to the valencia open, he invited ferru to share them. true love is (checks notes) co-parenting an atp 500 tournament

so when juanki decided to retire he chose valencia as his last tournament 

he went out in the first round. ferru won the entire tournament in his honor. <- they said it, not me.

immediately after ferru's match winner he ran over to find juanki in the stands for a hug so long i had to split it into two gifs

then he dedicated the title to juanki. ("Este triunfo forma parte de ti, te lo dedico exclusivamente para ti.")

they also entered for doubles and made it all the way to the semifinals despite the fact that they had never played a doubles match together before

after their first doubles match (and surprise win) there was a big farewell ceremony during which ferru gave a speech about how juanki was destined by the stars to play tennis and visibly fought back tears as juanki stared soulfully into his eyes.

they got married three months apart, which could mean nothing

when ferru retired in 2019 juanki wrote him a lengthy open letter about his feelings

and threw him a personal tribute celebration. you know, in addition to his actual retirement ceremony.

specifically he held a day long festival of ferru at the jcf academy that included, in decreasing order of normality:

exhibition match feat. some 16 year old kid named carlos alcaraz

juanki/ferru match

unveiling of Pista David Ferrer, aka the new name of center court (and the start of an academy tradition…)

presentation of a PORTRAIT PAINTING juanki SPECIALLY COMMISSIONED of their valencia 2012 embrace

i can actually barely look at it without getting severe secondhand embarrassment but the academy uploaded like a hundred photos to facebook

to this day when they play each other in legends events ferru is out there saying things like I JUST HOPE I CAN PLAY AS WELL AS YOU <3 never mind the aforementioned 7-2 h2h. this man is down just as bad as carlitos and it's been TWENTY YEARS

meanwhile ferru is constantly dropping by the academy for funsies. and in carlos' box. and at his practice. and that's BEFORE you get to the davis cup. 

in summary: what if the royal spanish tennis federation paid you to co-parent a grand slam winner with your boyfriend <3 that's what we call a happy ending!

[rosesanddecay]

Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader

Sorry if anyone is ooc!

CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.

Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.

Not proof read or heavily edited

Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack

There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…

A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.

You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.

The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.

The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.

Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.

After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.

He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.

“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.

Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.

How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.

With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.

Open your eyes… please… mi amor…

When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.

Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.

It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.

His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.

I failed again…

Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.

I failed.

I failed.

I failed…

Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder

Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.

He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.

“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.

Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.

Where were you?

Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.

“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.

You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.

His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.

Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.

With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.

A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.

Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.

Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.

No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…

It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.

Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.

Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.

Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.

Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.

He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.

His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.

Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?

His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.

He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.

They all would get justice for you.

By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.

It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.

It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.

It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.

Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.

This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?

Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.

Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.

He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.

Jake would do anything to see that smile again.

The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.

“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.

“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.

”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.

As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.

Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…

Basil Stitt - Suicide

Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.

He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.

Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.

Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.

Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.

What are they doing to your things?

Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.

“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.

“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.

Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.

His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.

He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.

Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?

First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?

His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.

He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.

Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.

But he was also angry.

How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?

You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.

Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.

Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?

Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client

Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.

But Blue didn’t expect this.

You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.

Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.

Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.

He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.

Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.

Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.

“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.

The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.

Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.

But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.

Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.

Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.

The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.

He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.

Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…

My poor bunny…

Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash

You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.

Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.

Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…

Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.

Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.

Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.

He called out your name, to no response.

“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.

“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.

Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.

In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”

Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.

He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.

No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.

Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.

That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.

My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…

Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype

You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.

Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.

He didn’t need you to.

When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.

He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.

But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.

While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.

The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.

You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.

She even looked oddly similar to you.

Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.

Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.

He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.

“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.

Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.

There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.

Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.

He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.

His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.

Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.

His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.

His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…

Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.

After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.

He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.

And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…

How idiotic…

Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning

Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.

He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.

Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.

He wanted to propose eventually.

But your life was taken long before he had the chance.

The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.

In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.

He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.

But this wasn’t worth it.

Your life wasn’t worth it.

Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.

His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.

Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.

Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.

He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.

Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.

He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.

You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.

That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.

You died under his care.

Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.

If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.

He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.

I wish I had made you mine, my dear…

Prince John - Assassination

John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.

It only made his reputation worse.

John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.

And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.

But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.

You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.

Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.

You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.

What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.

The message was received.

John had gotten word of what happened.

He found out about how you begged for your life.

How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.

It made him angry. It made John furious.

You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.

John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.

His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.

He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.

Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.

He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.

In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.

John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.

As long as they were dead, he would be content.

Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident

Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.

He always was worried and tried to protect you.

He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.

So why did the world still take you from him?

Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.

He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.

“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.

His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.

You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?

The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.

If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.

“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.

He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.

Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.

Why did this happen to you? Why you…

Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident

Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.

Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.

Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.

He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.

Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.

It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.

His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.

Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.

Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.

His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.

The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.

Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.

Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.

Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.

For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.

The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.

They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.

His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.

The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.

It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.

My dove…

Llewyn Davis - Suicide

Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.

He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.

You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.

But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.

Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.

Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.

He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.

Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.

He instantly wished he never opened the door.

In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.

The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.

What have you done…

Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…

Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.

And that broke his heart.

If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?

He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”

Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.

A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…

You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.

You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.

But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.

‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,

I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’

Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work

Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.

So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.

He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.

Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.

But this was the first time someone actually died…

Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.

He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.

After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.

You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.

He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…

Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.

Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.

Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.

But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.

The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.

You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.

In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.

You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.

That’s what hurt Abel the worst.

If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.

But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.

To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.

Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.

I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…

—————————————————

Brb sobbing in the club rn…

For real though, thank you for reading!

Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions

[stresscrimes]

INFO POST ON DANIEL MARSH

On April 14th, 2013, Daniel would leave his mothers home early in the morning to search for a home with open windows or doors in Davis, California. He would later come upon the home of Claudia (76) and Oliver (87). Daniel cut open the window screen, invading their home, and made his way into their bedroom where they were asleep. After a few minutes of watching them sleep, Daniel would stab them to death, with Claudia sustaining 67 stab wounds, and Oliver 61. Daniel would then dissect, eviscerate, and mutilate their dead bodies. The couples bodies were discovered the next day, but there would be no arrest for Daniel until June due to his extensive planning, no DNA, fingerprints, footprints, or any evidence at the crime scene. Even though the idiot almost got away with murder at 15, he would become a suspect after bragging to his friends about what he did. Daniel was then interrogated and confessed to the crimes, where he would tell investigators the murders gave him a feeling of pure happiness which he felt for weeks. Daniel had a long history of violent and antisocial behaviors, as well as mental health issues. He had also been fantasizing about murdering people since the age of 10 and aspired to become a serial killer. Daniel was given the maximum of 52 years to life, which was given to him at 17 years old in 2014. Daniel will be allowed by California law to be paroled after serving 25 years, when he is 42.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Six

Fool's Fare: Chapter Six

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of loss of loved ones, Guppy has a meltdown (justified), Talks of Curse, Talks of the supernatural, Sword Fighting, Flirting, Someone gets stabbed (like run through with a sword), Descriptions of blood, Mentions of alcohol, Swearing, Assault but not really (you'll see), Smut (knife play, dry humping, groping, dirty talk, both get off), angst, a smidge of fluff. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 5.8k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

It was strange how time changed everything and yet nothing all at once. Time changed the seasons and the tides, caring not for whom it affected. It changed the day to night and back again, it changed youth into age. Yes, time changed. It changed and it took.

It took stone and weathered it away. It took the air that the flame of your candle needed to breathe. It took your happy life and turned it into nothing but distant memories, and it took lives, leaving nothing but others to mourn.

Time had taken your father and then your mother, and now you had to dread the day it would take Bradley away from you too. Time was greedy, and it would take and take and take until you stopped it. Time was your greatest enemy.

“Look alive, Guppy.”

You turned to see Jake strutting across the deck, barely catching the movement of his arm as he threw something to your feet. The bundle landed with a dull clang and you glanced down from your spot at the side of the ship where you had been watching the water race past as it sailed in the open waters.

It had been two days since Jake had revealed the curse to you, and you were still coming to terms with what you now knew.

“You have less than a year to break the curse?” You had breathed, eyes growing wider at the blond’s words as they hung in the air between the two of you.

“I can’t break the curse,” Jake responded, leaning against a stack of crates. “I have less than a year to find the treasure.”

“What’s the difference?” You huffed, shooting him a glare. He rolled his eyes, scoffing as he folded his arms over his broad chest.

“The difference,” he all but spat, “is that even if I have the treasure in my hand, the curse won’t lift until Davy Jones gives his seal of approval.”

“But how are you supposed to know that you have it? What happens if you don’t have it?”

“I imagine that’s part of the punishment, Guppy,” he sighed. “I’m left to sail the ocean for seven years looking for a treasure that could quite literally be anything, and I won’t know if I’ve succeeded until the end of those seven years when I meet him back on that beach.”

“And your crew?” You asked, crossing your own arms as you stared at him, fear clutching at your stomach and forming a pit as you thought of your brother. “How does this curse affect them?”

“That depends,” Jake answered, eyes darting to yours for a brief moment before looking away.

“On what?” You pressed, irritation clawing to the surface at his dodginess.

“On how loyal they are to me.”

“What?” You balked, head jerking back at his words.

“The more loyal a man is to me,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he continued to pointedly look away from you, “the more the curse affects them. From the moment a man signs his name over in service to me, the curse will affect him until his time of service is up or until the curse is lifted.”

“But Bradley signed up with less than a year left,” you pointed out, words met with a heavy silence. You stared at the captain in front of you, his face giving nothing away as he stared out over the sea. The realization hit you all at once.

“You knew,” you breathed, a sinking feeling coming to rest in the pit of your stomach. “You knew that he would have to see it through to the end. He would either be free once the curse is lifted or he’d be doomed to sail with you for eternity.”

His eyes met yours then, mossy green swirling with a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t even begin to try and place. No, you were too angry. Angry at the man in front of you for tricking your brother into the possibility of eternal servitude. Angry at your brother for his casual recklessness by signing up for a crew he knew nothing about. Angry at how little time you had to fix all of it.

“You looked at me in that pub, knew how desperate I was for him to not go, and still you let him sign away his life to you,” you seethed, hot, angry tears gathering in your eyes. Jake had the decency to look ashamed by your words, but still you continued. “He’s all I have left, did you even stop to consider that? If something happens to him-”

A sob ripped its way through you, the harsh, ugly sound of your anguish jarring to your ears. Jake’s eyes widened as he watched you, and had you not been feeling like your world was crashing down around you, you might have laughed at the uneasy expression on his handsome features. Sucking in a breath in an attempt to calm yourself, you clutched at your skirt, fingers tensed so hard you feared they might freeze that way.

“If something happens to him,” you croaked, your breaths coming out in shuddering waves as you once again locked eyes with the blond in front of you, malice pouring from you with such vitriol, you saw him physically recoil away from you, “I will have nothing. Do you hear me? I will be all alone in this world, Jake Seresin. Nothing to my name and no one to call home. I will be forced to find some way to provide for myself, knowing that there was nothing I could do to save the only family I had left in this world.”

You took a step away from him, scrubbing furiously at your eyes and cheeks, desperately trying to pull yourself together.

“Guppy.”

Your eyes snapped open, head whipping towards the stairs leading to the galley. Bradley stood at the top step, a pained expression on his face as he watched you. Watched as you came to the realization that your lifeline, him, was slowly disappearing with nothing you could do to stop it. No, that wasn’t true. You just had to find the treasure that Davy Jones deemed worthy, and then this whole nightmare would be over. Jake already had his hands on the Soul of Polaris, which was as good a thing to place your trust in as any.

Sucking in a breath, you shot one last glare to Jake, noticing how he had schooled his features to show no hint of emotion.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain?” You snapped, hands clenched back at your sides, venom dripping from every word. He studied you for a second more before shaking his head slowly.

“No,” he murmured, voice thicker than before. “You’re dismissed.”

Without another word, and without sparing another glance at Bradley, you stalked off towards the cabin, feeling both sets of eyes on you as you slammed the door shut behind you.

And now here you were two days later, having not talked to much of anyone save for a few clipped responses. You eyed the bundle distastefully, glancing up to see Jake shrugging off his coat, leaving him in his simple, white shirt and trousers. The top few buttons were undone on his shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his chest to the midday sun, and you tried to ignore the way you could see the hairs of his chest peeking out from behind the fabric. You would certainly never admit to how your mouth watered at the sight.

“What?” You snapped, crossing your arms as you glared at the captain. He smirked at you, green eyes twinkling as he dropped down to peel the sleeve back from the bundle. His hands wrapped around the silver hilt of a sword, the metal gleaming in the sun as he lifted it, weighing it in his hands before handing it over, the hilt side towards you.

A breeze rushed through, rippling the fabric of his shirt and revealing more skin in the process, and you could feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of more of his golden skin on display.

You were snapped out of your trance by the sound of chuckling, glaring up at the blond as he grinned lasciviously at you.

“See something you like?” He asked, a knowing gleam in his eyes as you huffed.

“Something I’d like to run through with this rapier, maybe,” you scowled, grabbing the hilt perhaps a little too forcefully.

Jake chuckled, stepping back and allowing some distance between the two of you. You stared at the sword in your hand dumbly, wondering just what exactly he wanted you to do with it. Your question was soon answered when he settled into a fighting stance, feet planted firmly on the deck while his right hand stretched out, sword pointed at you.

“What are you doing?” You asked dryly, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you looked at the sword in your grasp before glancing back up at him. His smirk remained steadfast as he relaxed back into a normal stance, gesturing at you with quick flicks of the metal in his hand.

“A little birdy told me that you never learned how to use a sword,” he explained, scowling slightly as he repeated the information. “That’s unacceptable from members of my crew.”

“A little birdy told you?” You repeated with a hum, eyes glancing over towards the area of the ship where you last saw Bradley. He was pointedly looking away from you, inspecting the ropes on the side of the ship, his only giveaway being the red at the tips of his ears. Looking back at Jake, you arched a brow.

“Yes, a little birdy,” he affirmed, a face of faux seriousness now stretched across his features. “It amazes me that your father never thought it wise to teach you this skill.”

“Yes, well,” you sneered, “he didn’t think it prudent that I know a great many things, as it would turn out.”

“A shame,” Jake hummed, nodding solemnly. “It’s a good thing that I’m here to rectify the situation. Imagine if word got out that the daughter of the legendary pirate captain Maverick Mitchell couldn’t even use a sword properly.”

“Legendary, huh?” You snorted, rolling your eyes with a wry smile. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Movement around you seemed to stop as the words left your lips, and you glanced around to see several members of the crew giving you odd looks. Your eyes trained back on the blond in front of you as he arched an eyebrow at you.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He hummed, chuckling at your blank expression. He took the few steps across the deck and back towards you, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Your father is one of the most well known pirates to have ever lived. Some who fear him and others who revere him.”

“And where do you stand?” You asked him, cursing how small your voice sounded as you gazed up at him.

“Well,” he smirked, “I wasn’t on the seas long enough to fear him, so I suppose you can count me as one of his admirers.”

“Tell me about him?” You asked before you could remember the fact that you were supposed to be angry with the man in front of you. His smirk turned devilish as he looked you over from top to bottom, teeth catching his bottom lip before humming and backing up once more.

“Practice first,” he declared, shifting back into his fighting stance, arm once again outstretched towards you. “Now copy my stance.”

You eyed him, slowly moving to copy him, hoping that you were doing it right. Jake’s lips pursed as he studied you, the disapproval dashing any hopes that you had managed to copy him correctly. He let out a sigh, dropping out of the stance to walk over towards you. He circled you, stopping at your back, and you waited with bated breath. His hands slowly slid to hold your hips, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin at the unexpected contact.

“Easy, Guppy,” he chuckled, the low sound sending a shiver up your spine and heat to your cheeks.

Slowly, Jake repositioned you, and irritatingly you noticed the difference in balance as he did so.

“You want to angle your hips like this,” he murmured into your ear, his breath fanning in warm waves across your cheek. “Feel the difference?”

Not trusting yourself to speak, you gave a jerky nod, pointedly refusing to turn and meet his eyes.

“Good girl,” he hummed, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You felt him smirk against you as you let out a gasp. His fingertips lingered on your hips for a moment before he moved to reposition your arm. Once he was satisfied, he took his spot in front of you once more.

“How’s about a deal, Guppy?” He asked, brow arching once more as he watched you. “For every hit you land on me, I’ll tell you something about your father.”

“What about when you land a hit on me?” You questioned, frowning lightly. His smirk grew as he readied himself.

“For every hit I land on you,” he drawled, lifting his sword, “I get a minute of your company.”

“That’s ridicul-”

Before you could finish, he lunged, catching you off guard and managing to land a tap at your shoulder. You blustered, staring at him with mouth agape as he smiled at you smugly.

“That doesn’t count!” You cried, glaring at him. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Rule number one of pirateering, Guppy,” he grinned, “always be prepared for the unexpected. That’s one minute of your time for me.”

You scowled at him, lunging forward with your sword, a strike he easily blocked. The clashing of metal rang out across the deck and the crew gathered to watch with growing interest.

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want to land a blow,” he mocked, lunging forward once more. You attempted to dodge, veering right clumsily. You let out an indignant squawk as he hit your ass with the broad side of his blade, shooting him a murderous look as he laughed at you.

“That’s two minutes.”

The two of you carried on for about half an hour before you finally asked for a break. Your chest heaved with exertion, limbs and lungs burning for oxygen as you hunched over against your knees. There had been a couple of times where you could have landed a blow, but it had been too risky. The chances you had would have led to serious injury, and you weren’t keen on seriously injuring or maiming your captain just yet. Jake seemed to know what you were doing, as each time you didn’t take the shot, the smile from his face grew smaller and smaller until he was openly glaring at you.

“Again,” he commanded, whipping his blade to his side with a loud thwip as it cut through the air. “And this time act like you want to land a blow.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You snapped, straightening up a little in indignation.

“There were twelve times where you could have landed a blow on me,” he scowled, “and you didn’t. Quit wasting opportunities to strike at me.”

“Apologies, Captain, if I’m not in the mood to take another plunge overboard for maiming you,” you sneered. Jake barked a humorless laugh, a wry smiling curling on his lips.

“Is that what this is about?” He asked, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You think you’re going to hurt me?”

You said nothing, watching him wearily as he took slow, measured steps towards you. You straightened up as he drew near, raising your sword, uncertain if he was going to strike. He paused, glancing down for a brief second before back up at you, something akin to pride sparked in his eyes before flashing back to the ire he now directed at you.

“At least you learned something,” he snickered, drawing closer, and in your uncertainty, you raised your sword higher, trying to put some distance between the two of you. His lips curled dangerously, causing your heart to race for a completely different reason now. He took another step towards you, and you pressed the tip of your sword into his stomach, cursing the small tremor in your hands.

Pausing, Jake once again glanced down at the blade before locking eyes with you. He took another step, the sharp blade piercing his skin and allowing rivulets of scarlet red to run down his golden skin in sharp contrast. You inhaled sharply as he took another step, further impaling himself on the blade. Jake let out a quiet grunt as he took yet another step, eyes never straying from yours as he did so. Finally, he stopped, and you stared with horrified fascination as the stream of blood soaked his shirt and trousers, some dripping onto the wood below him.

“Neither alive, nor dead,” he murmured, something else mixing with the anger now. “I can feel pain, but no harm will come to me while this curse ensnares my soul, Guppy.”

He reached out a hand to brush your face, and it was then that you realized that you were crying. Fingers danced across the apple of your cheek, trailing down to tilt your head back. His thumb rested on the pillow of your bottom lip, stroking slightly.

“You can’t hurt me, Guppy,” he continued, a look of solemnity now on his face as he studied you. “But things can still hurt you, and I’ll be damned if I let you continue on not being able to defend yourself.”

He stepped back, taking the sword with him as it fell from your grasp. With a hiss, he pulled it from his gut, wiping the blade down on his already ruined trousers. He glanced around at the crew, features shifting to one of annoyance before settling on cold.

“Get back to work,” he snapped, and with that the crew scurried to occupy themselves. Jake didn’t spare you another glance before stalking off towards the cabins, the door slamming shut behind him. It was the loud sound that set you in motion, whirling around to once again take purchase by the railing of the ship. You scrubbed furiously at your eyes, making a point to ignore the crew members who walked past you, shooting you sympathetic looks as they prepared to dock for the night. You settled on the railing, curling in on yourself as a figure saddled up next to you, facing the sea as the ship raced toward the shore.

“Guppy,” Bradley sighed, glancing over at you with worry clear on his face.

“What?” You mumbled miserably, refusing to meet his eyes. The two of you stayed in silence for a moment. You, wishing that you could disappear, and Bradley, waiting for you to acknowledge what happened.

“You can’t stay mad at him,” he said finally, looking back out at the water. You shot him a glare at that.

“The hell I can’t.”

“You can’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “Because he’s not the one you’re really mad at.”

“Of course I’m mad at him,” you protested, eyes shifting back to the sea. “None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for him!”

He looked back at you then, a condescending look on his face.

“Guppy,” he chided. You glanced back at him, frowning at the knowing smile on his face. “You and I both know you’re lying.”

You glared at him, pressing your face into your arms where they rested atop your knees.

“Fine,” he sighed, grasping the railing and leaning back, head tilted toward the sky. “You can pretend that he’s the one to blame, but you and I both know that the one you’re really mad at is me.”

“What?” You frowned, sitting up to look at him.

“You’re mad at me for choosing to leave,” he continued, shrugging as if it didn’t bother him. “You feel like you can’t blame me though because you think it’ll push me away and you can’t stand the thought of losing me. So instead, you focus all the anger you have for me on the next best thing, but I’m telling you, he’s not the one to blame here.”

“You want me to be mad at you?” You asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He gave a one sided shrug, peering at you past his nose.

“I want you to be honest with me about how you’re feeling,” he replied. “I want you to be mad at me if that’s what you’re feeling. It was my choice to sign up for the crew. It was my choice to leave. I made choices, Guppy, and you can’t be mad at other people for it.”

You chewed over his words silently, feeling some of the tension slip from your shoulders. Bradley gave you a soft smile, knocking his shoulder against yours.

“Anyway, he’s right,” he added, looking at you seriously. “You need to be able to protect yourself, and that’s why I picked up this at the last port.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small dagger, the hilt a simple brown and the metal shining in the afternoon sun. You took it from him, eyes widening with intrigue as you inspected the gift.

“Come on, kid,” he chuckled, stepping back away from the railing and gesturing for you to follow. “We’ve got work to do.”

The pub was crowded as you sat wedged in between Bradley and Mickey, several different groups singing their own shanties off key. The room smelled of stale beer and old piss, and you inspected the mug in front of you with weary eyes. Wrinkling your nose, you pushed the glass back, eyeing the room around you. Your pub back home would never be this dirty.

“Having fun yet?” Mickey called over the roar of the crowd. You rolled your eyes, giving him a half-hearted scowl as you gestured to the people around you.

“You call this having fun?” You asked him, causing his head to tip back in laughter as his dark curls bounced around his face.

“You get used to finding amusement after years of not being able to get drunk,” he explained, shrugging good-naturedly. “Besides, best to make the most of a rotten situation, right? We all have to be here to show strength as we get new recruits.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” You frowned. “Knowing that those men have no idea what they’re signing up for?”

“Does anyone really know what they’re signing up for?” He countered. “I mean, really, truly know. Sure you have an idea, but anything can happen when you’re out at sea.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you sighed, absentmindedly rubbing at your shoulder, the muscles still sore from your impromptu sword fighting lesson from that morning. Mickey watched you for a moment, concern shining in his eyes.

“You look like you could use some rest,” he murmured, moving to stand and catching Bradley’s attention in the process. “Why don’t I take you back to the ship?”

“You’re leaving?” Bradley asked, studying you for any signs that something might be wrong. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, no,” you said, waving them off. “You two should stay. Wouldn’t want the captain getting angry that I stole two of his men away.”

“Guppy,” Bradley started, a scowl dancing across his face. You put a hand up to stop him.

“I mean it, I’ll be fine. Besides,” you chirped, pulling out the dagger that Bradley had handed you earlier that day, “I have this. If anyone tries to mess with me, I’ll just stick this where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Bradley eyes you wearily, looking like he was going to argue, but stopped when something caught his eye. He pressed his lips together before slowly nodding.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Yeah, okay. Just be careful, alright?”

You gave him one last smile before pushing your way through the crowd and out into the streets.

It wasn’t surprising how quiet all seemed around you given how late it was. The only sounds to be heard coming from the pub and the neighboring brothel. You began your trek back towards the docks, relishing in the cool, night air that blew around you. Humming a tune to yourself, it was a few minutes before you noticed the sound of footsteps behind you. You slowly and carefully reached for the blade at your side, wrapping your fingers around the hilt just as fingers wrapped around your upper arm, twisting you around. You sucked in a breath of air as you moved to stab your assailant in the groin, wincing as they gripped the wrist that held the dagger, pushing you up against the nearest building. You let out a grunt as your back hit the wall, closing your eyes at the sharp pain running up your back.

“Just because you can’t kill me, doesn’t mean that it won’t hurt, sweet girl.”

Your eyes snapped open to lock onto mossy green. Jake stared down at you, an amused smirk on his face as he watched you catch up to what was happening.

“You,” you breathed, brow pinching in confusion.

“Followed you out of the pub to make sure you didn’t get into any trouble, but it took me a minute to catch up with you,” he explained, sounding bored. His hands wrapped around the hilt of the dagger, taking it out of your hand and holding it up to the lamplight. “This is cute, is this new?”

You were suddenly keenly aware of the position you found yourself in. Back pressed against the wall, Jake’s hips pinning you there as he held both of your wrists in one hand, the other still examining the blade.

“Just got it today, Captain,” you huffed, scowling up at the man in question. The corner of his lips twitched as he turned his attention back to you.

“You should be careful about how you throw that word around, pretty girl,” he smirked, twirling the knife before pressing the flat of it to the tip of your nose in a quick tap. “You’d be surprised at the kind of effect it has on a man.”

You gasped as he pressed closer, the hard planes of him settling against you as his breath washed over you. Gazing up at him, you jutted your chin out in a challenge.

“How’s that, Captain?” You pressed. Jake’s smirk grew as he dragged the knife from the tip of your nose, down across your lips and chin, over the swell of your breasts, and stopping at the string that held your shirt together. He dipped the dagger under the string, pulling quickly so that the fabric cut in one, swift motion.

“Hey!” You cried indignantly, glaring at him as he did the same to the next three strands.

“I had to ruin a perfectly good shirt today in order to teach you a lesson,” he drawled, eyeing you with a purse of his lips. “Seems only fair that I get to return the favor.”

“I think this is hardly an equal punishment,” you gritted, squirming against him as a flush of heat rose to your cheeks. Your shirt did little to cover you from any eyes that might see you in that moment, but that was a thought that twitted at the back of your mind. No, you were too focused on the way Jake’s own eyes roamed over you, hunger growing with every swipe over your exposed skin.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he murmured, eyes locking back onto yours. He leaned forward, his lips grazing yours, smirking as he pulled back slightly only for you to chase him. “But, I do have thirty minutes of your company to claim.”

His lips were on yours before you could respond, molding against yours as you moaned at his touch. His free hand dragged up your side before groping your breast through the scraps of your newly destroyed shirt. Squeezing, his tongue dove into your mouth as you gasped into him, practically devouring you whole. You arched into his touch, using your now free hands to run through his surprisingly soft, blond locks and dragging him closer to you. You were barely aware of him tucking the dagger into the band of his pants as he grabbed the back of your thighs, hoisting your legs up and around his waist.

His lips left yours then, hot open-mouthed kisses placed furiously across your jaw and down your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access that he freely used to nip and suck at the skin you offered him.

“So soft,” he breathed, nuzzling your shoulder as his right hand came up to squeeze your breast once again. “Never felt anyone so soft.”

You let out a loud cry as he gave a rather harsh bite to your shoulder, your hands tugging on the strands of his hair in a manner you were sure had to be painful.

“Make the prettiest, little noises, pretty girl,” he hummed, looking up at you long enough to see the devilish smirk that worked its way onto his handsome face. “Don’t even have you around my cock yet, and you already look this fucked out.”

“Jake,” you breathed, gasping as he pressed his hips further into you. You could feel the hard length of him through his trousers and from where your skirt had ridden up.

“You feel what you do to me?” He asked. “You’ve been doing this since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Been thinking about how tight your pussy is going to feel wrapped around me. Been fucking my hand at the very thought of you milking me dry.”

You moaned at his words, rolling your hips into his as you peppered kisses across his face. Jake closed his eyes, seeming to relish in the attention you were bestowing upon him, one hand moving around to grab your ass as the other lavished attention at your nipple. He hauled you against him, grinding you down onto the prominent bulge.

“You like the sound of that?” He murmured, ducking his head back down to your neck, biting a particularly sensitive patch of skin then quickly laving it with his tongue. “Like the sound of me filling you up? Dirty girl, I bet you love the idea that anyone could see us right now. See how you’re falling apart for me even though I’m barely touching you.”

His teeth dug into the juncture of your shoulder and neck, and your cry of pain quickly dissolved into a moan of pleasure. Jake hummed, running his nose up and down the length of your neck.

“My pretty girl likes pain, huh?” He hummed. You were too lost in the sensations of pleasure he was pulling from you to notice his hand letting go of your ass to reach for his trousers. You jumped as the cool sensation of metal once again dragged across the swell of your breasts, your eyes popping open to stare down at where Jake ran the tip of the dagger across your skin. Not hard enough to cut, but enough for you to feel the pressure.

You hissed as he pressed the tip of the blade into the skin of your left breast, the sting quickly giving way to a wave of pleasure as he placed his lips over the cut, his tongue swirling over the skin. Your head hit the wall behind you as you let out a wanton cry of pleasure, feeling Jake smirk against you.

“My dirty girl likes that, huh?” He crooned, tossing the dagger to the ground and using the same hand to wrap in your hair as he forced you to look at him. He ground his bulge into your beating core, moaning at the heat radiating off of you as he crashed his lips to yours.

“Such a good girl for me, Guppy,” he moaned as he pulled away, bringing his right hand up from your breast. His thumb rested on your bottom lip before pushing the tip into your mouth. You suckled at it on instinct, never breaking eye contact as he groaned at the feel of your tongue laving over the digit.

“Fuck,” he hissed, picking up his pace. You let out quiet cries as the coil in your abdomen began to tighten, Fingers falling to his shoulders and leaving angry, red welts in their wake.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rutting into you. “Mark me, sweet girl. Show everyone who I belong to. Wanna wear your marks for days.”

You sucked harder at his thumb as you attempted to meet his thrusts, chest heaving with exertion. Jake saw the look on your face, taking his thumb out of your mouth to push your hair back.

“Come on, Guppy,” he crooned, losing himself in the sensations of you as he chased both of your highs. “Be a good girl for me, yeah? I can see how close you are, can practically feel your pretty little cunt fluttering against me. Can’t wait to be buried balls deep inside of you, feel you squeezing around me. Feel me leaking out of you. I’s okay though, I’d just push it back into you, and then I’d fill you up again and again until you’re swelling with me.”

You moaned at his words, jerking when a particularly hard thrust hit the sensitive nub at the juncture of your thighs, sending you over the edge with a loud cry. Jake thrust against you a few more times before stilling, sinking his teeth into the skin of your neck as he panted his release.

His hands rested on your thighs, smoothing up and down the exposed skin in gentle strokes as the two of you calmed down. Your hands ran through his hair gently, humming your content as you placed soft kisses to his temple.

“I’m sorry.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced down at him, fingers stilling in his hair.

“For what?” You asked. His fingers stilled at your hips, gripping a little tighter as he stayed wrapped in your embrace.

“For all of it,” he whispered, pressing his face tighter to you. “For being an ass. For tricking Bradley into signing. For not saying something sooner about the curse. For being the reason you might be all alone.”

He trailed off near the end, and for a minute, neither of you said anything. Instead, you scratched the back of his head, earning a contented hum that almost sounded like a purr. Sighing, you rested your cheek against the top of his head, holding him closer.

“Bradley made his own choices,” you whispered, closing your eyes. 

A/N: I don't think this is my best smut, which is disappointing considering this was supposed to be alley scene 2.0, but alas, it is what it is. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can also find my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond.

[hotvintagepoll]

I'm making a playlist of songs with titles that are/include names of the vintage hotties (e.g. Bette Davis Eyes), and I was hoping I could crowdsource suggestions I might have missed! Happy to link what I have so far, but I can't remember if tumblr asks block links these day.

This is an amazing idea! Please send me the playlist link. (Tumblr is weird about links but if you throw a couple spaces into the url Tumblr won't know it's a link and I'll be able to figure it out.)

Off the bat:

Dorothy Dandridge Eyes (Janelle Monae)

Grace Kelly (MIKA)

Bela Lugosi's Dead (Bauhaus)

Errol Flynn (Dogs D'Amour)

Ingrid Bergman (Billy Brag)

And if you expand past having hotties in the title to just old Hollywood mentions and references, you have:

Vogue (Madonna, name-drops several stars)

Puttin' on the Ritz (many versions, name-drops Gary Cooper)

Thriller (Michael Jackson, Vincent Price cameo)

Year of the Cat (Al Stevens, references Casablanca, Bogart and Lorre)

Bad Romance (Lady Gaga—I know I know but she mentions several Hitchcock movies on purpose)

[garrywantspasta]

So curious on your thoughts from episode 4!

Awn, nice of u to ask :)

I think this was THE episode for AgathaRio shippers. Congrats, people ✨

I think Agatha is holding back info about Sharon’s death. She knows something guys.

I’m so happy Alice survived the trial, although my spider sense tells me a tragedy in on the way.

Lilia was everything to me in this episode. My heart broke when she cried and it mended when I saw her playing multiple things during the Ballad.

Jennifer is in that circle til this very day… 😂 I was so happy for her when she healed Billy. Feel proud, sister 🩵

Agatha’s attachment to Billy(Imma call him Billy) is both heartwarming and worrying. I don’t think she sees him as Nicholas or is trying to replace him. I think is natural, specially for a mother whose lost her son to connect with children, in this case, teen. And Billy IS such a smart, ambitious, and kind hearted boy. ❤️

In fact, Agatha’s new attachment seems to be a problem solemnly for Rio. Can we all just dive into the - still not official but very much explicit - idea that she’s Death? Like, the personification of it. My theory, coming from her confession about hurting Agatha by doing her job, is that Agatha’s connection with Billy while walking the road can only mean that, at some point, Rio will be forced to hurt Agatha again (All because Rio assumes Billy will probably die on the road). Thus, Rio warns her that this boy isn’t “hers”. = “Don’t make my job difficult!”

Speaking about AgataRio shipwise, I’m still not big on it, although I’ve do have thoughts. I see Rio’s feelings as obsessive until I see more of their past. It makes sense to me that she would want Agatha dead now that they’re no longer together (Since there’s only two ways for Death to have her loved one, right?) But she genuinely doesn’t want to hurt Agatha in “that way” again. Unfortunately for them, love can’t change death, it can only continue despite it. (Unless it’s Disney.)

(Wait, it IS Disney.. So maybe I’m wrong. 😂)

I like to think of Agatha as a human being, desperately trying to bargain her way with things, Death one of those things. Cuz this is what the living do. For creatures in constant change, anything permanent is unacceptable.

I’d like to finish this with an illustration of my personal theory. 😌 I think that summoning spell is still marinating. We’ll get Mrs. Davis back, looking healthy and with some Advil 💚

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

Queue Interview with the Dead Boy Detectives Cast 👻🔎

This is going to be a long post! (These are my favourite parts from the interview!)

George Rexstrew as Edwin Payne

Acting Inspiration

Oh, gosh. Well there are so many. Meryl Streep, obviously. Viola Davis, obviously. More recently, I was blown away by Enzo Vogrincic in Society of the Snow. And Eden Dambrine in Close.

Cast Camaraderie

I loved working with all my co-stars. I’m practically related to Jayden [Revri] and Kassius [Nelson] at this point. Yuyu [Kitamura] is a dream. Jenn [Lyon] is mother hen. Bri[ana Cuoco] is the cool older sister. Josh[ua Colley] is the cheeky cousin. Ruth [Connell] is the godmother who gives you a card and £20 for your birthday. It really is one big happy dysfunctional family. I’m grateful for all of them, on and off camera.

Jayden Revri as Charles Rowland

Dressing The Part

These heads of departments, and Monique and Kelli, [they’re] unbelievable. They were so collaborative. We went through different hairstyles and different things we could do with the makeup. We added a bit of eyeliner for [Charles] just to make it feel more 80s. And then Kelli, I mean, it was like she did her research on me. She added badges to the jacket which kind of represented me as Jayden, before I even got there. It wasn’t until I got the haircut, put the makeup on, put the costume on, and I was like, Okay, this is Charles.

Cast Camaraderie.

The vibe was just incredible. Me and George, we really wanted to set the tone for the series and make sure that everyone’s having fun and it’s an environment where we could all talk about how we’re feeling. We were just such a big support blanket for each other. If there was ever a time that somebody needed space, or they wanted to prep themselves for a certain scene they were going to film, we all respected that and we were each other’s cheerleaders the whole entire time. And it’s still the same to this day now. I think it really shows when you watch the series that we all knew what we were making and we wanted to make something that we would want to watch, which we’ve all done. I cannot shout out my castmates enough. Forever grateful.

Kassius Nelson as Crystal Palace

Acting Inspiration

I watched a lot of animation. I used to watch the Addams Family, the black-and-white one, because I didn’t have Disney Channel or anything. Monk, Murder She Wrote, I was watching those things, so maybe I was actually destined to play a detective, now that I’m thinking about it. I watched a lot of cartoons and animations. I just liked the idea that I could be engrossed in another world. And I always wanted to know what happened next, or when the film finished, I would be like, “Okay, but then what? What happens after that?” And now I get to be part of that question or that answer (...).

Dressing the Part

We have a fantastic costume designer, Kelli Dunsmore. I always say that she literally wove the story into the fabric of the clothes, because there are things that she foreshadowed in the clothing that happened episodes later. Or, if characters start to get in some sort of relationship with each other, that will be reflected in the clothes that they wear or the colors that they have. Or, if they’re feeling any type of emotion, (...)l. Crystal wears these massive platform boots that must be about four or five inches. They’re huge, very heavy, but it’s funny because they change the way that you walk. (...) She’s not very light, which makes sense with the things that she’s going through and the experiences that she’s having. Practically, it helped, because Jayden and George are like six-foot-something. So, if I film a scene and I’m at the bottom of the lens and they’re up there, that helped. I’ve got a good couple inches on my feet.

Yuyu Kitamura as Niko Sasaki

Acting Inspiration

Sandra Oh is a woman that I will forever be indebted to because who she was on Grey’s Anatomy was so formative for me. The most interesting thing about her character was not that she was Asian, but that she was such a fully fleshed person with flaws and amazing qualities. And her work ever since I think has been iconic, so she’s a woman that I deeply look up to.

Landing the role in Dead Boy Detectives

I auditioned from Hong Kong and my dad was my reader because all of my acting friends were in New York. My dad was able to carve out time and be an amazing reader. And in that audition side, it’s the scene where Niko gets to see the “Dead Boys” for the first time, and there’s a line in there that was something along the lines of me talking to Edwin and asking, “Do you two make out with each other?” And my dad stopped the tape and he was like, “What are you reading for?” And I was like, “Don’t give me notes, it’s fine!” And so that was the audition process! I think within a month I found out I got the part and it’s been an absolute dream ever since.

Dressing the Part

(...) I think on paper Niko can seem like a certain type of character, but even in the choice of every costume we did, every color that she wears, every meticulous little piece about everything from her nails to her room, it’s so well curated and thought out. Through her journey, we also find that she’s a woman that wears what she feels. On the surface, she might seem like the most joyful, young, optimistic girl, but it’s the inner confidence and bravery where we find that she’s layered, and she is very much a young woman coming of age.

SOURCE: MEET THE REAL DEAD BOY DETECTIVES (AND FRIENDS)

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Jeff Davis just ruined everything! Everything! Do you know if there's any fix-it fics yet!

AND

Anonymous asked:

Love your page! Can you recommend fix-it fics for the movie?

AND

angelofthetrenchcoats asked:

hii

do you know if there are any tw movie sterek fix it fics yet?

thanks❤️😂

“Take me back.” by Theo4thestars

(1/? I 979 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Stiles finds out Derek is dead. He’s hurt. He finds out Allison is alive. He’s never been more happy. He’s conflicted so he goes home.

we're all burning. by unholyturtle

(2/2 I 2,400 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles came home and Derek did not die.

Broken Things (It's Complicated) by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

(1/1 I 3,880 I General I Sterek)

It's been fifteen years, and Derek still has feelings about that Jeep.

Crawling back to you by ads1008

(1/1 I 10,901 I General i Sterek)

Stiles gets a call from Eli that Derek has died. He runs home in time to be at the funeral where Eli barrels into him crying shaking like he is five years old again after a nightmare. Stiles holds him tight looking up at the pack he walked away from years ago. The ones that hurt him and his family too many times to count. His eyes landed on Scott, who looked sad and sorry. Stiles didn’t care for his pity. Rage boiled in him at just seeing his ex-best friend. The man that almost ruined everything for them 15 years ago but it looks like he already did. Stiles pulled Eli away, handing him off to his dad. Stiles walked over landing a hard punch to Scott’s temple.

“What did you do?” Stiles shouted.

Stiles knew he had to bring back the love of his life and the father of his son, with the help of Lydia and the rest of the gang. Stiles must fight one last demon of his own to bring Derek back. By doing so, secrets of the past fifteen years will be told. His young son, Eli, will know more about himself and his parents than either Stiles or Derek was ready to share.

We'll Take On The World by lookingforatardis

(1/1 I 26,000 I Mature I Sterek)

Derek grew quiet, eyes searching Stiles’ face. “It’s called True Mates.” “Do you think we…” he started, but cut himself off. He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer. “Maybe,” Derek nodded anyway, eyes cast down. Their hands were intertwined on the bed where they sat, and Stiles traced Derek’s knuckles with his fingers. “How would we know?” Derek sighed and leaned over to rest his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “There’s always a sign."

No More Martyr Bullsh*&t by Arieanna

(12/12 I 35,230 I Mature I Sterek)

Thank god someone had the brains to call him. Now he was running through the preserve to that stupid stump, hoping that he gets there before it's too late and he loses his reason for living.

"X" marks the spot by mmspring

(3/3 I 39,796 I General I Sterek)

"Please, bring my nephew back" Stiles stays silent for a second, before clearing his throat and speaking again. "Do you remember that time when you asked if someone in this town could stay dead?" he asks, and waits for the other man to confirm that he, indeed, remembers. "Well, let's hope the answer is still no".

Or

Stiles has to save the day once again, but he doesn't want the recognition for it.

Nothing Ever Stays Dead by Violet_Michelle

(22/22 I 79,189 I Mature I Sterek)

Following Derek’s death, Eli took the Jeep and went to find the only person he thought could get his dad back.

Yoda Said It Best by OKDeanna, thePurebloodPrat

(21/21 I 99,128 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek Hale knows he as a problem. Contrary to what some might believe, he isn’t stupid. He knows the Jeep has meaning to him, real meaning. The kind of meaning that he doesn’t want to think about, let alone stop and have to analyze. Except… his son keeps pushing him about it, prodding at him, and then before Derek knows it, Stiles is back in Beacon Hills, driving the one thing in the world Derek wishes he never had to set eyes on again. If Derek isn’t careful, he could open himself up to a fall, and that would affect more than just his son but also his own traitorous heart. Because with Stiles back, Derek finally has hope again, and its making him want the things he knows better than to ever crave: a home, a future, a life—love.

One-Sentence Premise: To find the happiness they both crave, a lonely stressed-out single dad and a disillusioned FBI agent must confront their shared past and accept the feelings that have always existed between them.

[frissy]

Earth42! Miles Morales x fem!Reader

ATSV SPOILERS

(Edited) ——— (Part 1) (Part 2)

• fluff to angst

• tw: mentions of death

• google translate used, so excuse any mistakes

• short! • Miles loves to spoil you

• little bit OOC, Miles has a soft spot for you

• not proofread!!

”Where next, mí amor?” He grabbed your hand.

You and Miles were out on a date, and he was spoiling you.. like a lot.

But you’re not complaining though.

He’s gentle with you, which is unlike his apathetic and cold demeanor.

But you are his [name]. His world, his love. He would do anything for you if it ended up withyou safe and happy.

“Miles.. isn’t this a bit much? We’ve been out all day and you’re carrying so many bags.” You looked at him, slight confusion in your eyes.

He has bags all around his arms. He didn’t let you carry anything. He didn’t want you to, he heave you major princess treatment.

“nonsense, mí amor… it’s never too much when it comes to you.” His grip on your hand got tighter.

You had no clue where Miles got all this money from, it’s kind of concerning to you. But he’s not gonna tell you, so you just go with it.

“oh.. okay then.. how about.. uh.. the jewelry store?”

“Of course.”

He went the rest of the day spoiling you, and being affectionate.

”I love you, [name]. Mí amor… mí vida… mi bella querida.“ he kissed your cheek. Wrapping an arm around your waist.

.

Everything was great, it was all fine. Nothing bad could happen, right? .

.

Your date was later over, he went home while you went to work.

That’s when everything went terribly wrong. .

.

Meanwhile…

.

.

Miles was slouching on his couch, he was thinking about you, and how much he loved spending time with you… then, he saw the news channel. It was live.

The whole world stopped for him. There was a crumbling building… and it was falling to you.

That’s when he saw his dad too. He had ran to you, attempting to help, but it was too late. Miles watched it all from the TV. .

He was crying. He hadn’t noticed. But he did when it all sunk in… you were dead. His darling, his world. Was dead.

.

All he could do now was beg for you to walk through the apartment door, coming to see him again with a bright smile on your face.

He was waiting for his dad to come home, with dinner in his hands from Miles’s favorite restaurant.

He would never witness either of those ever again. .

As soon as he could, Miles and his uncle Aaron made a tribute to you and his dad with graffiti on the brick wall on the roof of the apartment complex. .

.

His father was smiling in the portrait. In his police uniform…

JEFFERSON DAVIS: BELOVED HUSBAND, AND FATHER.

.

You were also smiling. But Miles’s had painted a halo around your head. You were his angel after all, but now you were truly an Angel.

[NAME, L.NAME]: BELOVED FRIEND, BELOVED DARLING.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: icymi this series takes place a little bit before keep your enemies closer. it's only loosely based on the the actual accurate timeline of events from 2012/13

✮ cw: cheating, being sad and stressed, yelling, fighting

✮ wc: 2k

juliette has always been the muse, max the artist. 

she has her moments, here or there—times when she ‘helps’ max with the songs (which is mostly just him asking what tempo she likes best out of two or three options and her picking one based on vibes alone.) and sure, some of the songs she has liked have gone on to become moderate hits for the band, but juliette secretly suspects max only asks her opinion to include her in things. 

mostly he just leaves her alone to sit in quiet corners of recording studios while he and his band create a ruckus.

juliette is happy though, quietly supporting. she loves max. she imagines she’ll marry him someday. “when the band takes off” is what he always says to her in the quiet moments of the night, traces a ring around her finger. it’s then that her stomach feels funny, maybe it’s the butterflies? she does love him…

sitting quietly in a corner of the studio is exactly what she’s doing when her phone buzzes, rapidly, one text after the other incoming. she frowns; who’s texting her so frantically in the middle of the day? has she accidentally missed her shift at the local hmv? juliette straightens and checks her phone. 

her nose wrinkles in disgust—for one, it’s ethan davies, max’s bandmate whom she rather despises. and also, why the fuck is he texting her when he’s in the next room over? but curiosity takes over her and she swipes the text thread open.

there’s not much in there—just a plain happy birthday message to him from four months ago followed by his ‘ty’. and then there are the messages from today. a series of photo featuring max…

juliette’s heart drops in her stomach. 

it’s max, her max, half-naked on the sofa of some house party with an equally half-naked girl on his lap. his hand is on her waist, his mouth around her boob that’s falling out of her tank top. judging by the dermal bandage on his arm, it had to be exactly two weeks ago when he’d gotten his latest tattoo. 

nausea brews in her gut, but juliette can’t look away. it’s like she’s spellbound and held in a trance, some unknown entity forcing her to swipe onto the next photo.

it’s much of the same really—max with his hands down the girl’s pants, shooting her a smug smile. he looks fucked up, he has to be, she thinks, to fingerbang someone when there are obviously people around him. ethan, for sure, since he seems to have taken these photos. 

she’s sure she’s about to be sick all over the floor. 

a second later, a white-face max bursts into the room, followed by ethan who seems to have a fresh split lip. 

“baby, i—” he starts, chokes, takes a step forward. juliette springs up. 

three years she’s been with him, more than that really if she wants to count the months she’s spent having a crush on him. three years and now when she looks at him, all she sees is a pathetic little man. 

juliette picks up the first thing she sees, a water bottle, and chucks it at max as hard as she can. it hits him square in the stomach and knocks the wind out of him as he falls down to his knees, clutching his middle. she feels a smidge of satisfaction. 

“what the fuck is wrong with you?!” he yells, still on the floor. ethan simply watches the exchange wide-eyed. 

“with me? oh, that’s rich!”

“they weren’t supposed to be sent to you,” ethan chimes in, and juliette shoots him a glare so dirty that he’d be dead on spot if looks could kill. 

she wishes they could. she wishes she could murder max and ethan in cold blood. 

“babe, please—”

“you’re dead to me,” juliette snaps. 

there are tears spilling down her cheeks, angry tears and sad tears, tears of pure frustration and disgust and everything in between. for all intents and purposes, her voice should be wobbly and weak, and yet it surprises her how determined she sounds. it surprises her how quickly she manages to gather her belongings, how quickly she turns and storms out the door. 

gone within the blink of an eye, just like her three year long relationship.

in the weeks that follow, max sends her a hundred different flowers—sunflowers (that she’s allergic to) and roses (that come with a horrid artificial smell clinging to them). he calls her a dozen times and sends her a dozen pathetic begging messages until she blocks him (and ethan—a wonderful byproduct).

she even considers deleting his number. but there’s a little traitorous part of her brain that has it memorised. in spite of everything. 

in the weeks that follow she moves in with a friend.

carly is a bright ray of sunshine—crazy hair and red nails and brilliantly coloured graphic t-shirts seem to be 90% of her wardrobe. and even in the middle of all the bleakness, she brings some warmth to juliette's life. 

carly’s the first housemate she’s ever had that’s not max. carly also seems to know a thousand different indie musicians that keep coming over or inviting her to their shows. 

juliette doesn’t mind it as much. she’s used to this particular kind of hustle—at least that aspect of familiarity hasn’t been snatched from her. besides, living with carly has kept max away. she suspects carly scares him a little, that’s why he chooses to stay away. 

she's is a good friend to juliette though, she lets her throw herself a pity party in bed for the first few weeks, only forcing her into showers when she starts reeking of sweat. juliette is grateful for her. but even her patience runs thin soon enough.

“alright that’s it,” carly bursts into her room one afternoon while juliette is busy deleting photos of her and max off her phone. “the pity party ends today.”

“but—”

“no!”

juliette huffs at her but sits up in bed. she’s in three day old pyjamas, her hair is a greasy mess from not being washed for at least a week, and frankly she stinks. it’s mortifying. maybe carly is right…

“i’m seeing this guy, adam,” carly smiles wide and juliette feels a pang in her chest. has she ever looked like that while talking about max? “his band has a show tonight—”

“i’m done with band guys.”

“jules!” carly holds up her hand. jules… it startles her, no one’s ever called her that. max only ever called her babe or baby or juliette if they were in a fight. but jules… that’s new. it holds no memories for her. juliette holds it close to her and repeats it to herself until it starts sounding like a real name. 

jules. she could be a jules. 

carly, unaware of this little epiphany, continues talking. “they’re good, jules, trust me! and i’m not saying that just because i’m seeing him, they really are good. you’ll have fun.”

she mulls the thought over in her head. the one thing she remembers fondly from her now ruined relationship with max is the shows. the being backstage and seeing the inner workings of everything. she misses being at the barricade and getting to scream the songs at the top of her lungs. 

“i don’t want to go just to meet someone.” she chews on a hangnail.

“you don’t have to,” carly promises. “it will just be a good time.”

“just a good time,” she mumbles to herself. carly looks at her with hope written all over her face. and she’s been such a good friend to her, juliette doesn’t particularly feel like letting her down. 

“okay,” she says quietly, smiling when carly cheers. 

it’ll be good, she tells herself. she needs to get out of the house sooner or later anyway.

it feels exactly how she remembers it. juliette loves the energy backstage, loves to see the different guitars strewn about carelessly and people hurrying around, loves watching artists shooting the shit and smoking up before shows.

there are occasionally ones that are uptight and nervous about going on stage—she loves watching them especially. how they come alive in front of the crowd and under the stage lights. 

carly lets go of her hand when she spots a guy; adam, juliette guesses. a second later it’s confirmed when carly hugs him tightly and kisses him for a good thirty seconds. juliette looks away, awkward and out of place. 

“i brought a friend,” she announces, pointing to juliette and suddenly everyone’s eyes are on her. 

“hi,” she says, a little shy. adam, to her relief, looks equally shy and quiet. 

“new fans?” a voice makes her head turn. it’s a tall man, taller than adam and twirling drumsticks between his fingers like it’s second nature to him. 

“george,” he turns to her and sticks his hand out. juliette takes it. 

“jules,” she says, her voice a little unsure. jules. it fits better somehow now that she’s said it out loud. 

“are you a fan, jules?” he grins at her, an easy-going smile that instantly puts her at ease too. maybe carly was right. maybe they are good. george certainly feels nothing like max’s friends. 

stop. she scolds herself. she’s not allowed to think of max tonight. 

“are you putting her on the spot, george?” a new voice comes from behind george. her ears perk up instantly. the voice sounds…familiar somehow. 

“hi,” the man appears from behind george, smoking the last dregs of a cigarette. he stops right in front of her. juliette tries not to stare so blatantly, but it’s not easy when he’s so obviously attractive. 

his hair is curly, huge, half-falling in his eyes, eyes that are framed with the longest lashes she’s ever seen (unfair!). he’s also a good couple inches taller than her. juliette refuses to look any lower than his face though. for one, his shirt is entirely unbuttoned. and his jeans are quite low-waist. (not that she hasn’t stolen a couple sneaky glances, especially at the tattoos)

“jules, was it?” he nudges her a little and jules comes back to earth.

“yes, hi!” she says, suddenly chipper. from behind him, carly waggles her brows at her. 

“i’m matty.” he holds out his hand much like george had, and when jules takes it, it feels warm around hers, it sends tingles down her spine. 

“are you seeing us for the first time?” matty asks, still holding her hand, not that jules minds it very much. she nods. 

“we’ll have to make an impression then,” he smiles, just the right amount of cocky. jules almost blushes. 

“i guess you’ll have to,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. “although i don’t think that should be too much work? my friend was raving about you,” she points at carly. matty doesn’t look. 

“is that right?”

jules nods, barely holding back a grin. 

“i’ll be more interested in what you think though.”

this time it’s her turn to lean in a little, turn her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “is that right?”

when had she learned to flirt with someone within minutes of meeting them? especially weeks after her breakup?!

matty’s about to say something when someone interrupts him, tells him they have to go up in five. another man who’s just as tall as george, except he has a buzzcut and a sparse beard. (jesus how tall is everyone?!)

matty winces apologetically and finally lets go of her hand. 

“stay after the show, yeah?” he asks, hope written so clear all over his face. jules smiles.

“only if you impress me.”

matty laughs, a sound that lingers around her, right before he disappears behind a throng of people.

jules scrunches her eyes shut and then makes her way to the wings.

the show is the best thing she’s ever seen, matty is the best thing she’s ever seen—better than max could ever be. he smiles at her so many times too, winks like a proper rockstar and basks in the attention of all the girls at the barricade. jules watches him until she can no longer stand it. 

it’s like watching max. sure matty's infinitely better, but the similarities make it hard to just stand there and enjoy the show and dance like carly is next to her.  

anything to do with max is not something she can stand right now. 

so right before the last song, she hugs carly and makes an excuse. carly’s having too much fun to stop and have a chat, not that jules wants her to. 

she looks at matty one last time, at the way he stomach flexes when he hits a high note. then she turns before the regret can set in, before she can think about the hope on his face when he'd asked her to stay.

no matter how much she wants to, jules doesn’t stay after the show.

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 25

Word Count: 3.8K

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: I cannot believe two of my Twilight fics are coming to and end (just their first books) I'm excited and a little scared, but also so grateful for everyone that has stuck around these past couple of years with them. Hope I see y'all on the next books as well. 💖💖 Also, I need to stop making characters just for the plot and then falling in love with them when I know how things will end up 🫣🫣

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The next day, (Y/N) was supposed to go back to work as though nothing had happened. She had to pretend Alice had not come to town or taken Bella off to Italy without her father knowing. That Edward wasn’t planning on taking his life because of a girl he had left for dead half a year before. That Harry had not passed under her hands only two days before. And she had to pretend that she didn’t know Carlisle was gone, that she wasn’t the only one he had walked away from.

But pretending was something she had gotten used to. Putting on a mask was the first thing she had learned when she was younger. She had faked being happy for so long that truly feeling it became intoxicating. And once it had been taken from her, she collapsed.

Still, falling back into usual patterns of behavior was easy enough to do.

She had gotten up that morning and left her mother a plate of breakfast before heading to the hospital. There, she walked the halls with a kind smile on her face and her mouth muttering thank you to everyone who offered their condolences. It was much too easy to pretend she was fine.

“I heard you went by the Clearwater house,” (Y/N) smiled as she noticed Eden walking into the locker room while she slipped on her white coat. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I wish I had stayed longer to have seen you.”

“I thought it’d be good to pay my respects,” he said. “It was a hard-hitting case.”

“Well, thank you. Not many people would have done that.”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, hiding the redness that was creeping onto his face with the door of his locker. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you back today. I thought Davis gave you the rest of the week off.”

“I’d go crazy if I had nothing to do,” (Y/N) sighed. “Work will keep my head busy enough.”

“Hm,” was all Eden responded as he left his things in his locker and slipped on his own coat.

(Y/N) couldn’t help as her eyes lingered over Eden’s body. She stared at the way his navy scrubs clung to his figure, the seams of his sleeves stretching to their limits as his arms flexed before they were covered by the white coat. It was something she had only noticed she had been doing about a month before.

Somewhere along the way, she had begun staring, listening, remembering a little more. (Y/N) found herself noticing Eden a lot more than she had ever any man before, apart from one. Even as he seemingly held only disdain for her in the beginning, she couldn’t help the way she’d gravitated toward him. Thankfully, she had a reason to follow him around, but she knew that somehow, she’d do it regardless.

“(Y/N)!” His voice broke her out of her trance, a teasing grin splayed on his face. “All good?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” she stammered as she composed herself. “Morning rounds. Coming.”

“Seriously, if you need to take time off, you can,” he muttered softly, making the girl’s heart hammer rapidly against her chest. “You shouldn’t jump back in if you’re not ready yet.”

“I’m fine, seriously,” (Y/N) smiled, trying her best to subside the warmth that was overtaking her face. “I just zoned out for a second. I promise I’m ready.”

“Alright, then.” Eden conceded. “But if you need to tap out at any point, please let me know. Don’t keep it to yourself.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dr. Mollins.”

“Come on, (Y/N),” he grinned, “I think we’re past formalities when we’re off the clock.”

“Alright, then. Thanks, Eden.”

The Uley girl didn’t understand when her mind had shifted. Though she did focus on work and gave her everything to her patients, she found herself seeking Eden out. Since the shift between them from two days before, she felt comfortable seeing the man in a whole new light.

She had found herself liking the way he laughed, the way he smiled, even the way he stood. And, she thought, maybe that was the reason she had pushed the thought of Carlisle to the deepest, darkest corners of her mind. When she was around him, she didn’t spare a single thought about the vampire. Not even in the days after she had learned of the immortal’s disappearance.

Her heart did ache, she couldn’t lie. There was a constant tightening in her chest that she ignored every second of every day. But that was as far as it went. Maybe it meant she was healing. Maybe it was simply because she had not seen Carlisle. A part of her knew the answer. The part that she tried to silence so long ago with alcohol and distractions. The part she would continue to ignore until it was too much to bear.

But (Y/N) could do it. She could push down the overwhelming connection she had with Carlisle and allow herself to build something different with someone else. If Carlisle hadn’t cared enough about her to stay, she wouldn’t care enough to find him—at least, she knew she shouldn’t. And the girl always loved the rational side of her brain. It had kept her safe for long enough.

It was that side that kept her moving forward. The part that allowed her to go on day by day as though nothing affected her. It allowed her to lie to Charlie when he called about his daughter, allowed her to fix the strain she’d created in her relationship with Paul, and allowed her to set her gaze on someone else. If Carlisle was allowed to turn his feelings off and not care about the consequences, then so could she.

And for the past couple of days, that’s what she did.

(Y/N) had regained some momentum in her life. After allowing herself to feel what had been bringing her down, she decided to shift gears. She focused on her work, her school, and her family. And when she wasn’t focusing on that, she focused on Eden.

For those coming days, the pair that had seemed not to want anything to do with each other now could not seem to leave each other’s side. After squashing any animosity that had lived between them, they quickly realized how much they had in common. From their academic upbringings to the music they listened to while they relaxed. For the first time in more than half a year, the girl felt flutters building in her chest, and everything seemed to be settling in for her.

Yet, in all normal fashion, that didn’t last long.

“Did you know?” (Y/N) heard through the phone four days after Bella had left with Alice. “Did you know they were coming back?”

“What are you talking about, Sam?”

“The Cullens,” he seethed. “They’re all back. Just moved into their house.”

(Y/N) felt her hands begin to shake. She’d had a feeling when Bella had gone that this could have been an outcome. But—silly her, thinking rationally—she believed they’d keep truth in their word and never come back. “I-I didn’t,” she stammered nervously. “Are you sure? I mean, I know Alice came for a visit…”

“You didn’t know, (Y/N)?” Sam questioned softly this time, hearing the panic in his sister’s voice. “I thought they’d at least give you a heads up about it.”

“No, I… but… last I heard, Edward was on a suicide mission, and Bella and Alice went to save him,” she said. “But she didn’t say anything about them coming back.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, Bean. I thought you knew,” he sighed. “The older woman called and said they were moving back in last night.”

The girl didn’t know how to react. Clearly, she hadn’t meant enough to any of them to be given notice about things that directly affected her. Maybe she hadn’t put her life in enough danger because of him for them to care. Maybe they never cared at all. “Is, uh, is he…” she tried to ask but couldn’t find the words. “Is he, you know…” 

“I don’t know, Bean,” Sam responded quietly. “All she told me was that the family was back, so the treaty needed to stand. But that’s as far as my knowledge goes.”

“Well, uh, I was just on my way into the hospital. I guess I’ll let you know if he’s there.”

“Are you sure you should be doing this, (Y/N)?” her brother worried. “Why don’t you take the day off?”

“I-I can’t. It’s better if I just go on as though nothing has changed.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to always be strong,” he reminded her. “You’re allowed to step away if you need to.”

“I know, Sam. But I already gave enough of myself for them,” she stated. “It’s about time I start to reclaim those parts back.”

“Just… let me know if you need anything,” Sam offered. “Treaty be damned, I’ll be there in a moment’s notice.”

“Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.”

“Alright then, go kill it, doc.”

With a semblance of confidence, (Y/N) walked into the hospital, but it wasn’t long before her heart started rushing. If the Cullens were truly back, it could mean that at any given moment, those golden eyes that had cemented themselves into her brain could be staring right back at her. Everything she had done to push him into the deepest, darkest corners of her mind could unravel with just one look.

Luckily, she made it all the way to the locker room without a glance of the man. Everything in the Forks hospital seemed the same as it had for the past six months. If the Cullens had come back, the doctor had not been by the building.

For a second, she thought when she opened the doors that he’d be standing there, slipping on his white coat and flashing her that damned smile. Instead, she found Eden already inside, getting ready for his shift. And if he could tell that something was awry with (Y/N), he did not say.

Yet, everything he said sounded far away for the girl. She knew he was speaking because she could hazily see his mouth moving, but she couldn’t quite process his words. To appear alright, she went through the motions—putting her bag away, slipping on her coat, draping the stethoscope around her neck. She had to appear fine because she was fine.

“(Y/N),” Eden’s voice finally broke through her trance. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” she croaked before clearing her throat. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “The offer still stands for you to take another day off. What happened…”

“No, I’m fine, Eden. I promise,” she smiled. “I just wanna get through the day.”

“Alright then. Let’s go.” 

But before they could make their patient rounds, a nurse stopped (Y/N) in her tracks. “There’s someone asking for your, Dr. Uley,” he said. “They’re waiting for you in Dr. Cullen’s old office.” 

“Oh, um, did you happen to catch a name?”

“Sorry, no,” the nurse answered. “But it’s a lady with long brown hair and these like dark golden eyes. She said you know who she is.”

And, of course, she did. “Thanks, Max,” the girl smiled. “I’ll be right over.”

“Guess we’ll start rounds without you,” Eden said as the nurse took off.  “You know what this is about?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately so.”

There weren’t many people in the world that could ever fit the description the nurse had given. In her lifetime, she’d only met two, and only one of them had long hair.

(Y/N) felt sort of ambushed as she walked the trail she knew far too well. The hospital was one of the only places where any of them could seek her out, and she’d have nowhere to go. It was the perfect place to force her into an unwanted conversation. And she had an idea what it was that the woman wanted to talk to her about.

Inside the office, Esme was staring out the window when (Y/N) walked in, a trembling in her limbs she could not stop. Unlike seeing Alice, there wasn’t a surge of anger that rushed inside her. Maybe it was the dark circles forming under Esme’s darkening eyes, or the worry lines that had seemed to cement themselves in the furrow of her worried eyebrows, but (Y/N) could only feel concern.

The woman’s usual radiant beauty had dwindled, replaced by a darkening gloom that seemed to follow her like a dark cloud. It was one thing to ignore Alice’s appeal to find the patriarch of the Cullen family, but it was another to have the one person who had been moving heaven and hell to find him plead with nothing but her eyes. She had yet to utter a word, and (Y/N) already knew.

“You look well,” Esme spoke softly, frozen on the spot she stood. ���Can’t say the same for this room, huh?”

“It’s been empty ever since,” she said without reciprocity of a laugh to the woman’s attempt at a lighthearted joke. “The hospital hasn’t really been able to fill the role.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll hire someone soon.”

“I think we’re past the amicable chit-chat, Esme,” (Y/N) sighed. “Just tell me what you’ve come to say.”

“I guess there’s no point beating around the bush,” the woman smiled sadly. “I’m guessing you already know that Carlisle is missing.”

“She blurted out something about that but didn’t really give me much more information on it. It wasn’t like she wanted me to find out—at least not in the way I did. But it’s not like you’ve all been very communicative these past few months.”

Esme was hesitant with her next words, taken aback by the bite in (Y/N)’s tone. She understood where her anger came from, and she had every right to feel that way. But the worry she felt for the man who had been her partner in life for so many years transcended the shame she felt for the way she and her family had treated the girl. “Alright, (Y/N). I know there are many apologies that we owe you, and I know they will never be enough. But, from the bottom of my heart, you have to know how sorry I am for what’s happened and the part I played in it,” the woman started. “But I’ve come today to plead for your help in finding Carlisle.”

“I’m sorry, Esme, but what makes you think that I’d have any idea how to find him?” (Y/N) said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Neither woman took a single step from their positions, leaving a cold distance between them—maybe out of anger, possibly just in self-preservation. “If a family of supernatural vampires can’t find him, how would I? I don’t even know how he disappeared.”

“We had just settled in our house in Ithaca when he said he was going to meet an old friend of his and we never saw him again,” she said. “I don’t want to burden you with how he was on that day, but he wasn’t himself, (Y/N). I have never seen him as defeated as he was then, and I am worried that he may have done something as dumb or worse than Edward. I have a very strong lead and someone who is quite certain that she can find him, but I know he won’t come back to us. I know it’s not my place to ask, and I understand if you want to turn me down, but I am begging you, even if it’s just to hear my friend out, just come by the house to talk.”

(Y/N) wanted to answer with a flat-out no or maybe say that she wasn’t like Bella and she wouldn’t drop everything in her life to save the man who had ripped her heart to shreds. But, at that very moment, she understood the Swan girl. She knew she had the power to show Carlisle the decency he had denied her, that she had the power to return a father to his family regardless of what he had done to her because at least some of them didn’t deserve the pain of losing him.

Still, there was a voice inside her head that tempted her to make them all pay for the torment she had gone through after they left. Even if the way she reacted to heartbreak wasn’t their fault, she couldn’t help but blame them for the indelible pain they had planted in her heart.

Before she could say anything, Esme added to her plea, sadness clinging to her every feature. “Look, (Y/N), I know this is a lot to ask, especially with how everything went down,” she said. “But all I am asking you is to just talk to my friend. Before you make any decision, just talk to her. Please.” 

“I can’t promise you that I will, Esme. I just… I need some time to think about this. It’s a lot to just throw on someone.” 

“Of course! Yes. Take the time you need,” the woman exclaimed. “Just please consider what I’ve said.”

“I, uh, I’ll try,” (Y/N) said. “But right now, I need to get back to work. I’ll call you once I’ve made my decision.”

“Yes, of course,” Esme muttered. “Again, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she forced a smile. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

(Y/N) turned before Esme could say another word. She was completely overwhelmed and could feel her anger and resentment bubbling inside her. Her eyes stung from tears she refused to let spill, and all she wanted was to break down.

Carlisle had not only broken her heart, but he had made some statements that she still carried with her. At one point, he had made her feel a happiness she’d never thought possible. He had sold her a life full of love and enchantment. Yet, in one conversation, he had shattered every illusion and dream she had created with him. He had shown her that someone could pretend to love you one minute and completely break your spirit the next.

But even knowing just how heartless Carlisle could be, she couldn’t help the worry that snuck into her heart. If he truly was in trouble, if he was gambling with his life, she didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least help. Unlike him, she couldn’t just turn off the love and care she’d had—still had—for the man. She especially couldn’t allow the family to live with the pain of losing someone they considered a father figure. (Y/N) knew far too well the anguish that came from losing a father, and she didn’t wish that torment on anyone—even her worst enemy.

“Hey, was everything okay?” Eden asked as they took their lunch break, a mask of concern clouding his face. “You seemed in your head when you came back for rounds.”

“I mean, it’s not not okay,” she shrugged, her gaze stuck on the plate before her. “It was… an old friend, I guess.”

“You’re not sure if she was a friend?” he chuckled softly, trying his best to lift the girl’s spirits.

“She was,” she smiled sadly. “She just came to ask for my help with something, and I’m not sure if I want to do it.”

“What did she ask for? If I may ask.”

“It’s a weird, long, and complicated issue,” she sighed. “But long story short, she needs my help with my ex. He’s been… different since the breakup, and he might be in some trouble, and she thinks I’m the only one that can help.”

“Oh,” Eden grimaced. “That is a long and complicated issue. I’m guessing there’s a bit of bad blood there.”

“Something like that,” she chuckled dryly. “He did and said some things in the breakup that cut deep, essentially…”

“But you still care for him.”

“Not just him. His family, too. They’re basically lost without their father.” (Y/N) noticed the realization in Eden’s eyes. The rumor that she had been with the town’s most acclaimed doctor had not died in people’s mouths, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he heard it, too. “I’m guessing you’ve heard what people have said about me and our last head doctor.”

“I won’t lie, I heard some whispers about that,” he confessed, “but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”

“Well, you’re the first person other than my family to have it confirmed, but yes, Dr. Cullen and I were in a relationship before he left, and it was quite serious. Just not serious enough for him to ask me to go with him when he moved,” she explained, trying her best to keep everything to a minimum detail. “We didn’t end on good terms, and I am unbelievably mad at him. But I also don’t want anything bad to happen to him. Am I crazy for that?”

“Of course not, (Y/N),” Eden stated. He placed a comforting hand over hers, stopping the picking she hadn’t noticed she’d been doing. It was a touch she didn’t know she needed. As he drew circles with his thumb over her knuckles, she could feel herself calming down. “He was a big part of your life regardless of how he chose to end things, and you care about what happens to him because you are a good person. How could you be crazy for that?”

“Would you do it? If someone that hurt you needed your help, would you?”

“I’d like to say I would,” he said. “But I guess it’s more of a question if I’d be okay with not helping them in the long run.”

“Is it bad if I say I don’t know?” the girl worried. “Part of me wants to think that I wouldn’t care what happens to him, but there is a big part that knows that I would.”

“(Y/N), whatever you choose has to be the right decision for you. Helping this guy can’t be about him or his family. It has to be about how you will feel when you face him and if it is something you’ll be able to do without putting yourself in harm’s way.”

Those words took her aback. She had been thinking of the Cullens and their feelings; she had been thinking of Carlisle and his betrayal, but she hadn’t stopped to think of what would happen if she allowed herself to see him again. (Y/N) didn’t want the family to hurt, but she didn’t know if her wounds were closed enough for her to be selfless and save Carlisle from whatever danger he had placed himself into.

Whatever road she decided to take had to be the right one for her and no one else. No matter how much she cared for the Cullen family and didn’t want them to lose Carlisle, her decision could not be at the detriment of her own heart. They had put her through enough, and she wasn’t sure there was anything left to give to them.

Next ->

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[nesaluvstherecoms]

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Extreme mental strain, mentions of male masturbation.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐒𝐒𝐃𝐃

The sound of light solid taps is the only thing that can be heard through the dark office. Y/N’s breathing is soft, steady, calm, as it accompanies the sounds of the electronic pen writing on the screen of her touchpad. The lights of her spacious office are off, letting only the dim light from outside penetrate through the large glass-panel windows behind her and illuminate her surroundings. It’s almost eclipse.

Y/N’s sharp eyes follow the tip of her pen as she writes, summarizing her team’s new report for General Ardmore. The tip of her tail sways softly at her side, draped over the right arm of her expensive, cushioned desk chair. It’s the end of the week and she has been in her office all day, reviewing reports. It has been a good week overall. Her team have been able to eliminate multiple Na’vi groups and take over their territories, allowing the troops to start treating the land to set new grounds for the RDA. Captain Keller, Lieutenant Álvarez and Lieutenant Jones have led multiple units to success, almost flawlessly even in this new environment, Sergeant Davis has adapted his ability to plan attacks in said environment perfectly, and the rest of her team have been outstanding as well. Ardmore is happy, the contractors are happy, and most importantly, her team seems to be happy. She should be proud of them, she really should, and she is. But since day one, she can’t help but feel a weird weight in the bottom of her gut. She tells herself it’s just because she isn’t used to this, and she agrees. It will take some time to adapt, but she’ll get there.

With a final tap, she finishes the report and quickly puts her elegant signature at the bottom. Putting the electronic pen aside, she lets its magnetic side stick to the right side of her touchpad. Y/N pushes her desk chair slightly back and reaches upwards, stretching her elegant body and cracking her spine and tail. With a sigh of relief, she turns her chair around and leans back, resting her body comfortably on the thick cushioned lining. Her eyes immediately fall on the landscape outside, well not much of a landscape but it’s still better than looking at reports for hours. The dull colors outside don’t do much for the eye but Y/N doesn’t mind. Her eyes move to the sky, watching aimlessly as her mind continues its train of thought again. One report however, had not been to her liking. Three high-value prisoners free, a high-value target on the run and five Recombinants dead.

Y/N clenches her jaw. It’s been only two months and already five Recoms have been KIAd. A shiver runs down her spine. Recoms. Just like her. Just like her squad. How? How could this have happened? She watches as the eclipse happens in the sky, blocking the rest of the light rays, plunging the world outside into darkness. Bridgehead turns on its night lights, illuminating the city as some vehicles stop moving, the workers wrapping up their workdays as others come out to start their night shifts.

A knock on her office door brings her out of her thoughts. She turns around to press a button from the control panel on her desk and the door slides open. The comforting figure of her Captain steps into her office, stopping a few steps away from her desk and saluting her.

“General.” John acknowledges softly but firmly. Y/N nods, smiling softly.

“John.” She greets. “At ease.”

Captain Keller lowers his arm, giving her a friendly smile as he shuffles once on his feet.

“I apologize if I am disturbing ma’am, but General Ardmore requests your presence in the Neurolab.”

Y/N raises her brows. The Neurolab? That’s a bit of an odd location for Ardmore to be in.

“I see. Is there a problem?” She asks, as she stands up from her desk. John looks at her, as she makes her way around her desk to stand in front of him, looking up at him from her side. He purses his lips slightly before responding in his deep and raspy tone.

“Turns out Colonel Quaritch did not lose all of his captives after all.”

Y/N has gotten used to the eyes following her everywhere she walks by now. Her high rank, her demeanor and her intimidating size attract attention everywhere she goes. But this kind of attention has been following her her whole life, even before waking up as a Recom, with people staring at her; some in admiration, some in judgement, some in curiosity and some in just lust. By now, it doesn’t bother her, and if it wasn’t for the way she has been conditioned to pay attention to everything around her, she wouldn’t even notice. So now, as she walks through the corridors of the Ops center, with John following behind her and towering over the humans walking around, she ignores the multiple pairs of eyes that follow their moving figures. They turn a corner to a corridor with less people and Y/N turns her head towards her team Captain.

“So, about this prisoner. Tell me more.” She says as they keep on walking together towards the designated place. John takes a sip of carbon dioxide, letting his lungs fill up nicely, before responding to his General.

“It’s a human boy. Raised mostly in the wild by the resistance and the natives. Deceased Colonel Quaritch’s son.” He replies, watching as Y/N raises a brow disapprovingly.

“Son? He had a child?” She asks, her cropped ears folding back slightly. John nods.

“Yes ma’am. He got one of his scorpion pilots pregnant when he was still alive, resulting in the boy. The mother died in the war and the kid was left with the resistance.” He informs her. Y/N scoffs in amusement, shaking her head, and her tail swings a couple of times behind her.

“So not only did he give leverage to the traitor for months, but he was fraternizing with his own pilots too? Talk about populating Pandora.” She comments and John chuckles, shaking his head. Y/N brings the mask of her Recom Breather up to her face and takes a filling sip of carbon dioxide, before lowering it and talking to John again.

“How come the boy was not sent back to Earth, like everyone else?”

John takes a sip from his mask as well before speaking.

“He was too young. Babies cannot be put in cryo sleep.”

Y/N hums, turning her line of vision away for a moment before looking back at him.

“And he is important to us how exactly?”

“He’s been with Sully’s family for years, grown up with the kids. He knows every single Na’vi operation, the location of their main base, everything. If the science department manage to force this information out of him then we have hit the jackpot.” John replies. Y/N nods slowly, grabbing her mask again and moving it up to her face. New thoughts start roaming her mind, processing the new information.

“I see.”

。。。

Miles’ head is in multiple places at once. Firstly, his team’s encounter in the forest still has him and his troopers shaken. Five of their own are dead, gone in a matter of seconds. He believes his team will get over their deaths soon, they are soldiers after all, they have lost people before. But what bothers him the most is the human boy he never thought he would see again. Young Miles. Quaritch’s steps are firm as he walks through the corridors of the Ops center, with Wainfleet following close behind. Miles’ tail moves slowly behind him, as him and his Lieutenant move towards the Neurolab, both Recoms silent. Lyle’s eyes remain on the back of Miles’ head, trying to figure out the current mood of his Colonel. After all, they have just found his predecessor’s son. That must be shocking even to Miles himself. But up until now, the Colonel has shown no emotions towards the situation. As soon as they returned to base, he handed the boy in Ardmore’s troops’ hands like he was as valuable as any other prisoner. But a few moments ago, as soon as he had heard that the boy would be strapped to the DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner, he was immediately on his feet and out the door, with Lyle following behind. So Wainfleet cannot make out exactly what the Colonel is feeling. He tries to read his body language, watching his tail and his ears but they do not show any sign of his emotions either. With his eyes still on his Colonel, Lyle brings the Recom Breather mask up to his face and takes a sip of carbon dioxide. Well, he’s about to figure out what Miles is thinking, as they are now heading straight for the Neurolab down the corridor.

。。。

As Y/N and John turn the corner to finally be in front of the Neurolab, he is suddenly pulled back and pressed against the wall, put out of sight from the entrance. His first instinct is to fight and then react but the one who has pulled him back is Y/N.

“General?” He questions as Y/N presses herself against the wall as well. She shushes him, her eyes carefully inspecting the front of the Neurolab. John follows her line of vision and a few moments later, two pairs of heavy combat boots echo through the corridor. What he can only assume is Colonel Quaritch and his Lieutenant, as far as John remembers from the holograms shown to him and Y/N in the Holofloor the first day they arrived, pass through and wait for the door of the Neurolab to open. The metal doors slide open and Wainfleet is the first to move a step inside, but Quaritch doesn’t move. Instead his head is raised slightly up and he’s looking around, his tail now swinging faster behind him. His brows furrow in concentration as he seems to be searching around for something. Wainfleet, who has now stepped a foot in the lab, turns to his commander with a raised eyebrow.

“Colonel?”

Quaritch looks around for a bit more, amber eyes searching for whatever has suddenly caught his attention, but when he doesn’t find it, he shakes his head with a displeased expression on his face and heads inside the Neurolab. The doors slide closed after him and Wainfleet walk in, and Y/N removes herself from the wall. John turns his head towards her, giving her a questioning look.

“What was that for?” He asks. Y/N doesn’t answer, instead she looks thoughtfully at a blank spot on the floor for a moment, before she raises her head again and turns to him.

“We best not make our presence known. I want to see how this unfolds.”

“Where is Jake Sully?”

“I don’t know!” Screams the boy in fear, his voice cracking from the strain he puts on his exhausted throat. The DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner where he is strapped on, spins in flashing green lights, with a whirring sound that fills the Neurolab.

“We know that you know.” Ardmore presses.

Quaritch watches intently, leaning with one arm on the glass panel of the Neurolab’s brain imaging booth.

“I don’t know!” The boy screams again.

“Just form a picture in your mind.” Ardmore says nonchalantly, lowering her head briefly to check the screen of the scanner. “Is it one of the floating mountains?”

“Let me out of here!” He replies back.

Inside the brain imaging booth, Wainfleet bends down to check the holo display of the boy’s brain, watching as different colors highlight the different brain states that he is going through, with the scanner feeding it visual memories in real time. The corporate man next to Quaritch turns around towards one of the scientists analyzing the hologram.

“Hey, he’s fighting this.” He states as Quaritch turns around as well, grabbing the mask of his Recom Breather and bringing it up to his face.

“Give us a minute.” The scientist replies, walking closer to the woman scientist analyzing the brain with him. Meanwhile, the boy continues to scream in the background.

“I don’t know!”

Ardmore purses her lips, slowly starting to get annoyed as she stares him down.

“Just form a thought.” She says while shaking her head, her voice starting to get laced in irritation. “And we will see it.”

“I don’t know!”

Quaritch slowly moves behind the holo display of the boy’s brain. His cropped ears raise up as he stares at it in curiosity. He shifts in place, brows slowly furrowing the more he looks at it.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do!” Ardmore says, finally raising her voice and showing her frustration. It’s been forty minutes, she has shit to do, but instead she’s stuck here interrogating this filthy kid who somehow isn’t budging. And where is L/N, she asked for her fifty minutes ago! The boy screams in pain as a sharp throb stabs down the center of his brain.

“Which clans would be harboring him?” Ardmore presses.

“I don’t know!” He screams yet again in pain, this time faster. “You’re gonna have to kill me!”

At that last sentence Miles’ eyes narrow down dangerously. His ears fold back and he glares at the hologram, before a displeased expression plasters on his face, his upper lip twitching upwards once. He bends down just like Wainfleet did, to get a closer look at the pulsing electric waves that run through the neurons of the hologram brain in a neon orange color. The boy’s screams continue in the background.

“Watch this, you’re peaking all over the prefrontal.” The male scientist who spoke earlier tells the female scientist as she scrambles with a datapad that analyzes the boy’s brain further.

“It’s not gonna stop until you give us something. Where is he?!” Ardmore continues, this time irritation showing fully through the tone of her voice. The boy screams more, his body now starting to shake against the scanner.

“I don’t know you assholes, okay?! I don’t know!” He screams harder, his voice cracking again through the sentence. Quaritch has had enough.

With fast, heavy steps he moves swiftly to the control panel outside of the brain imaging booth, pressing his palm down on the red shut off button. The whirring sound of the scanner slowls down and the spinning panels slow down with it until they stop moving completely and the sound that has been filling the Neurolab for almost fifty minutes stops, plunging the room in silence. Ardmore turns around, snapping her head back to get a look of the person who just shut off the scanner. Miles removes his massive hand from the control panel and straightens his posture, looking back at the General with the tip of his tail slightly raised while Wainfleet walks out of the booth and stands a few feet away from his Colonel. The boy pants heavily, eyes now half lidded and blood leaking out of his left nostril. With slow and soft strides, trying to approach the situation carefully, Quaritch gets closer to the General. His vision falls on the boy for a bit before he turns his back to him and moves his head closer to Ardmore. Maintaining reassuring eye contact with her, he speaks.

“General, let me… try the personal angle.” He says with a nod and ears folded back, voice raspy and firm. Ardmore stares intensively into his eyes, disbelief plastered on her face. She snaps her head towards the boy before turning to look at Quaritch with her mouth slightly agape in irritation.

“He’s not your son.” She tells him, glaring into his eyes warningly. Quaritch knows that there’s a hint of threat in her tone, and he doesn’t say anything but maintain the eye contact. Ardmore purses her lips and gives him one last stare before turning her head forward and walking down the steps of the scanner. Quaritch’s eyes follow her, turning his head towards her form until she steps on the floor of the Neurolab. Without any more words she strides off. Wainfleet steps out of her way and gives her a respectful head nod as she leaves and Quaritch turns his head towards the boy still strapped on the scanner. He reaches in and unstraps him, yanking the leads off of him. Two strong, muscled arms reach towards the boy’s figure and pull him out of the scanner. With exhausted and half lidded eyes he stares up at the Recombinant that is now carrying his weak body in his arms. Quaritch chuckles.

“Tough guy, huh? How’s that workin’ out for you?” He says softly to the kid before wiping his bloody nose with his thumb. He turns around and with heavy strides, starts making his way towards the door. Wainfleet watches him before following behind, as scientists and personnel watch them with wide eyes. Right as the two Recoms are about to exit, yet again Quaritch stops. With a curious stare he turns around, eyes frantically searching again for something that has caught his attention. Wainfleet raises a brow again, trying to figure out what is up with his Colonel today, but before he can start thinking too much of it, Quaritch has turned back towards the exit and has now stepped out. Wainfleet follows, the two pairs of combat boots thudding heavily on the metal floors, before the doors slide closed behind them.

。。。

Miles clenches his jaw as they walk through the hallway. That scent. That mind numbing scent. That scent that he smelled again. Just like the one that was lingering around the entrance of the Neurolab when he arrived. Similar to the one he fisted his cock to in the ISV Vindicator. She’s around here somewhere. He knows it.

。。。

In the second story of the Neurolab, Y/N and Captain Keller slowly get closer to the rail that lets them look down upon the brain imaging booth and the scanner. Y/N brings her Recom Breather mask up to her face and takes a deep sip, filling her lungs with the much needed carbon dioxide. John chuckles in disbelief, his amber eyes staring at the now empty scanner, before he turns his head towards her.

“Did you see that, General?” He asks, his raspy voice clearly displaying disapproval. Y/N’s stare onto the scanner is hard and filled with distaste. She removes the mask from her face and her cropped ears fold back slightly before speaking in a serious tone.

“Damn right I saw.”

After attending some important matters, Ardmore heads towards her office to review a few reports and then finish work for the day. After all, eclipse has fallen long ago and everyone has already wrapped up their shifts. But being the RDA’s Expeditionary Force Commander, she cannot rest so easily like the rest of the people on base, as the future of humanity is ultimately upon her shoulders. These thoughts roam her mind as she walks through the now dead and quiet corridors, her footsteps echoing through the hallways. After a few seconds, she arrives in front of her office door, pressing her keycard to the scanner on the right side. The door slides open and she takes a step inside before her senses heighten alarmingly as her eyes fall on the large blue figure in her office. Instinctively, her hand flies to her handgun but a further look at the Na’vi and she sighs, releasing her grip on the firearm.

“For fucks sake, L/N.”

Y/N gives her a grin, sat on one of the couches in Ardmore’s office with her legs one over the other on top of the coffee table in front of the piece of furniture.

“Apologies for my unannounced presence, General.” She replies, fidgeting with a combat knife as she continues sitting comfortably on the couch. Ardmore frowns at her once before stepping into the office, the door sliding closed behind her. She walks to her desk and takes off the holster along with the gun, placing it on top of the surface before turning away.

“Not only did you not attend to my side when I asked you to today, but you also made yourself comfortable in my office without my permission, after the work day nonetheless. Care to explain yourself?” She asks coldly, walking to the coffee machine in the corner of her office and turning it on.

“Ah, apologies, I plead guilty for the second charge. Not for the first one though.” Y/N says with a chuckle, running her elegant blue fingers over the black blade. “Coffee at night, General? I thought you were the healthy type.”

Ardmore huffs once in amusement, grabbing a standard-issue RDA coffee mug from a cupboard nearby and putting it under the coffee dispenser.

“When the fate of humanity is on your shoulders, you’ve thrown health out the window a long time ago.” She replies, turning around to lean against the table that the coffee machine and a few other assortments are on, and facing Y/N. Ardmore crosses her arms over her chest as the machine starts buzzing.

“So, why are you here?” She presses. Y/N’s eyes fall on her before she lowers her feet from the coffee table and sits up on the couch. She tucks the knife into its sheath on her gear and places her elbows on top of her knees, leaning forward.

“I was there today. In the Neurolab. Captain Keller informed me as you requested and I complied. However, as I was about to enter the lab, Colonel Quaritch and his Lieutenant approached the lab as well. I did not want to make my presence known so I stayed out of sight. But I was there. I attempted to catch up to you after but your assistant informed me that you were occupied with some important matters. So I came over here and waited.”

Ardmore raises a brow, looking back at Y/N, expecting something more. Y/N catches on to her expression and sighs, reaching into one of the pockets of her tactical pants to pull out a small metal card with a magnetic strip. She puts it on top of the coffee table like she’s making a peace offering and places her elbow on top of her knee again.

“Yes, I did steal the keycard that unlocks the door to your office from your assistant. But to my defense, I did not know when you’d be returning. Besides, I don’t think he has noticed yet.” Y/N says, giving Ardmore a mischievous smile. Ardmore sighs heavily, turning around to press a button on the coffee machine and with a whirring buzz, it starts dispensing the hot drink into the mug below.

“Get to the point.” She says shortly, the tiredness from the day’s events catching up to her as she reaches for a packet of sugar on the table. Y/N nods slowly and looks away briefly. Her eyes fall on Ardmore’s pistol on top of the desk and she runs her vision over it for a while.

“What do you think of Quaritch’s actions today?” She asks after a brief moment of silence. Ardmore stops her movements for a few seconds, before pouring the contents of the packet into the coffee and grabbing a small spoon from a container next to the sugar packets.

“Are you trying to hint at something?” She responds, not replying to Y/N’s question. Y/N’s ears fold back and she shifts briefly in place.

“Come on, General. I saw your suspicion and disapproval as he shut off the scanner and asked to interrogate the boy himself. You can’t tell me you don’t think that he’s onto something.” Y/N finally presses, watching the back of Ardmore’s head carefully. Ardmore stirs her coffee slowly, grabbing the mug by the handle and turning towards Y/N again. She continues stirring her drink as she looks over at the Recom whose eyes are now flashing in a dangerous glint.

“I know what you’re trying to say. Yes, his actions seemed questionable to me because of the link the boy holds to the original Miles Quaritch. However, I don’t think anything is going on. If the scanner can’t get the information out of the prisoner then the personal approach that Quaritch will be attempting tomorrow might lead us to something.” She replies. Y/N clenches her jaw, swallowing down the saliva in her mouth before trying again.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I think you’re overlooking something that can turn into a problem later on. He’s clearly fond of the kid. He did not turn the scanner off to try and suggest interrogating the boy, he did it to save his life. I know desperation when I see it. A few more minutes in the scanner and the kid’s brain would have been leaking out of his ears. No commanding officer saves a prisoner of war like that just for the purpose of an interrogation. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to risk having an officer in my ranks who has a soft spot for a prisoner who serves our enemy.” Y/N says, looking carefully at Ardmore who has now stopped stirring and is looking back at her with a thoughtful expression. She then inhales deeply and looks away for a brief moment, before raising the mug up to her lips and taking a sip.

“I appreciate your concern, L/N. But for now, I think you’re being a bit too paranoid. However, I will be watching Quaritch more carefully, if that puts your mind at ease. For now, focus on your own team and your missions, and let me do my job and deal with my own personnel.”

Y/N clenches her jaw again, clearly disappointed at the reply she received. She thinks about it but she does not argue. Instead, with a deep sigh, she leans back onto the couch, defeated.

“As you wish, ma’am.” She replies with a bored tone, turning her vision to the handgun on the desk again.

Ardmore walks to her desk and sits down, putting the coffee mug on top of the wood surface. Y/N slowly reaches forward for the pistol, her size allowing her to do so and she takes the firearm into her hands. With a pleased expression, she starts inspecting it while Ardmore turns on her personal datapad to take a look at some reports.

“A .40 caliber United Ballistics Zarkov-33, huh. Not bad, some of my troopers use the Recom version of this too. Powerful firearm. I see why it’s our standard. Though, I’d expect you to have something more personalized, General.” Y/N comments, inspecting the tactical light-laser and rangefinder on top of the muzzle of the gun.

“Yeah? Like this?” Ardmore replies nonchalantly, her eyes still on the datapad as she reaches down and pulls out her high magazine MIL-SPEC 502. Y/N’s eyes sparkle like a kid as she sees the sidearm being put on top of the desk and she puts the Z-33 Pistol next to the keycard on top of the coffee table and immediately reaches for the new gun. She inspects it carefully from the harness system to the grip and the 16 round magazine, muttering a little “damn” under her breath as she admires the weapon with her tail swinging side to side behind her. Ardmore slowly takes another sip of her coffee, before putting the mug down and speaking to her with her eyes still on the report.

“Now please get out of my office.”

Y/N’s ears fold back as she realizes that she’s been playing with a gun like a cat with a yarn ball while occupying her commander’s office.

“Right.” She replies, putting the second gun down on the coffee table as well and standing up.

“Good night, General.” She says in a firm tone, saluting Ardmore respectfully before turning around and heading out. As the door slides closed behind her, Ardmore sighs and takes another sip of her coffee. This is going to be a long night.

“Can you believe this? They’re helpless. Absolutely fuckin’ helpless.” Riley huffs out, raspy voice laced with irritation as he moves with his usual heavy steps and hands clasped behind his back. Y/N stands between him and Scott, the three of them walking through the training fields as soldiers run around under the sun, doing their daily drills. A bit further away, aircrafts take off and land, trains and vehicles move relentlessly, creating a noisy and busy atmosphere around them as Bridgehead city buzzes in activity as always.

“I’ve seen fuckin’ pigs more coordinated than this.”

Scott hums, raising a brow at Riley’s last comment.

“Oh com’ on LT. They jus’ stepped foot hier. Give ‘em a break, will ya?” He replies, looking at Riley who in return turns to stare at him.

“A fuckin’ break?! What do you think we’re doing here, playing nanny? We’re at war for fuck’s sake. Pull your head out of your arse.”

Y/N sighs, as Scott and Riley start going at it once again. Riley has recently been put in charge of training new recruits into enforcing the protection of Bridgehead city, seeing that Y/N and ALPHA have now taken over a good amount of Na’vi land territories, putting Bridgehead into the center of the natives’ attention. And as you might imagine, the man is not happy with his new troops’ level of skills. Not in the slightest bit. He’s been training them relentlessly, to the point that multiple recruits have passed out or thrown their guts up on the training field, for which in both cases they have gotten harsh punishment. Scott has disagreed to this for weeks now, arguing that these are the only soldiers they have available at the moment and if Riley continues like this he’ll kill them in no time, besides, the recruits that arrive on Bridgehead are already trained and what Riley is doing is unnecessary. He persistently repeats that they cannot afford to loose troops, skilled or not, because human capital is sacred on Pandora.

Y/N raises a gloved hand, stopping their argument on the spot, as they both give each other one last glare and fall quiet, turning to look at their commander.

“Riley is correct. We cannot have recruits this undertrained, especially during a time of uprising tensions. I’ll have a chat with General Ardmore about this. It seems that we need to establish new requirements for who can board on Pandora as a trooper.”

And with that both men nod and the argument is wrapped up.

“Hahaha she still pacifies you both. Better start calling her mommy.”

The three of them turn towards Lieutenant Álvarez and Captain Keller who are walking towards them, with John chuckling at Fernando’s comment. Riley scowls and Scott grins as the two higher ranking officers approach with lazy, heavy strides, hands clasped behind their carrier plates.

“I’m not listening to the comments of a man who got shot on his ass by the cartel.” Riley replies which makes Scott burst in laughter.

“Oh I forgot ‘bout tha’.” He says in between laughs as Fernando and John are now standing with them on the training ground. “Ye literally ran around the battlefield with a bullet up yer ass.”

Y/N hides a smile at Scott’s last comment as Riley and John laugh, with Fernando cracking a smile as well. After they all finish laughing he turns his head towards the recruits training some meters away from them. His tail flicks behind him in curiosity and he speaks to Riley without moving his eyes from the soldiers.

“I see you’re still not going easy on them.” He says as he watches the exhausted men and women try to not break down in the middle of the exercises.

“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ embarrassing. These are the people we’re supposed to colonize with. Pathetic.” Riley replies as all five of them are now watching the recruits. A few seconds later one of the men stops running, absolutely exhausted to the point that his body cannot move anymore and he remains behind while the group that is running laps continues. This only feeds into Riley’s irritation and with a booming voice, he yells.

“AY PRIVATE! WHAT THE FUCK?! SO WE JUST STANDING AROUND PLAYING WITH COCKS NOW?!”

His voice booms throughout the training field and multiple recruits flinch at the sound, staring up at the Recom in horror for a brief second before continuing their exercises. The poor recruit, a young man, flinches at the yelling, and stares at Riley in shock and fear.

“MOVE YER FUCKIN’ ARSE! STOP STARING AT ME LIKE YER WAITING FOR ME TO BLOW A DAMN LOAD ON YOUR FACE!” The Recombinant yells again. The terrified recruit gathers all of the strength he has left and scrams away, trying to hide in the line of the group running laps. Riley sighs in frustration, bringing his gloved hand up to rub the flat bridge of his nose as the rest of the Recoms chuckle.

“This looks like fun. I might be the one training them one of these days.” Y/N comments, crossing her arms as she watches the recruits in amusement and Riley scoffs in reply.

“Be my guest, General.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The Recoms turn around to see Sergeant Herrera approaching them, walking with her usual swaying hips and cocky demeanor, tail moving slowly behind her. The rest give her a friendly nod as they see her walk closer and she smiles.

“General. Captain. Lieutenants. Sergeant.” She greets them all accordingly before turning to Y/N.

“General, Sergeant Davis has made another strategic plan for taking over the west forest area above the border, and he wants you to go over it. He’s currently with the science department, in the main labs, consulting them on a few details. When you have the time, your presence would be appreciated.”

Y/N hums, uncrossing her arms and turning to her.

“Thank you, Maria. Well, I’ll see you later then gentlemen. I hope the training goes well, Lieutenant Jones. I’ll speak to Ardmore tomorrow about the whole thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” They reply in unison.

The men nod, saluting her respectfully and without further ado, Y/N turns and walks away, leaving them and Maria alone on the training field. As she moves away, they all turn towards watching the recruits again, with Riley’s irritation back in check.

“NOW DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME FIFTY, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Y/N doesn’t particularly hate the science department. But she doesn’t like them either. They’re just there, existing in the same space as her and her troops, and she pays them no mind. The only person from her team that interacts with them on a regular is Henry Davis. Being the Master Gunnery Sergeant, he is the one responsible for coming up with new strategies, tactics and plans. That includes constantly consulting the science department on Pandora’s flora and fauna, so every possibility in a mission can be accounted for. And up until now, he has done amazing. Not only have his strategies never failed once, but he has managed to learn a vast amount of information about Pandora in an incredibly short time. To say that Y/N is very proud would be an understatement.

This is what she’s thinking as she walks through the corridors to get to the science department building. Her steps are lazy as she is in no rush, taking her time and looking around here and there. She takes a turn to a larger corridor that connects the main labs to the headquarters of the department, a spacious tunnel that also connects other parts of the building to each other. As she sets her eyes on the doors of the labs, something pounces at the corner of her vision. In a flash, Y/N has already drawn out her most powerful handgun, pointing the muzzle at the thing that now looks up at her with its yellow eyes. A viperwolf. Y/N’s senses are now fully alarmed and locked in on the creature that has stopped moving and lowered its body closer to the floor in caution, with its six limbs bent. Creatures like this have attacked her forces before. They are extremely hostile and lethal to humans. So how the fuck did an animal like this get in here? Breathing getting faster, she keeps the gun pointed at it and sensing the danger, the viperwolf clenches its snake like jaw and bares its obsidian teeth at her, growling warningly at the Recom. Y/N pulls back the slide of her gun, ready to shoot the thing dead if it tries anything. The animal growls harder, moving one clawed hand forward, and just as Y/N is about to pull the trigger-

“DON’T SHOOT HIM!”

At the sound of the feminine voice, the viperwolf runs away towards it. Y/N scowls, snapping back towards the voice to try and get a peak of the person who has let this thing loose. Her breath catches right in her throat.

Standing a few feet away from her, is the most beautiful woman that Y/N has ever laid eyes on. Flowing long locks of black hair with a few interlocked braids fall on her shoulders, bringing forth her gorgeous, beautiful face with big amber eyes that look at Y/N carefully. She is dressed in a dark blue and black uniform that Y/N has never seen before, but it has the RDA’s logo. It’s tight fitting to her thin, elegant Na’vi body, the top cropped right above her cleavage, showing a pair of firm collarbones. Her tail moves slowly behind her, still cautious at the possibility that Y/N might shoot the animal which is now hiding behind her long, elegant legs. Are all Na’vi women so breathtaking beautiful? Realizing that she’s ogling, Y/N clears her throat and relaxes her posture, putting the handgun back in its holster.

“Care to explain why you have a wild animal, nevertheless a viperwolf, running around base?” She speaks, regaining her commander voice as her ears fold back and she pins the woman with a stare. The girl’s eyes take in Y/N from head to toe, before they fall on her tail which is moving side to side behind her, betraying her hardened soldier composure. A playful smile falls on her lips and she turns her doe eyes to Y/N’s face.

“He is not a wild animal, ma’am. He is my friend. I raised him since he was a tiny cub. You’re the one who drew her weapon at an unprovoked animal.” She replies, crossing her toned arms over her chest. The woman’s soothing voice prickles goosebumps on Y/N’s skin, soft and tranquil to the ear. But Y/N is a master at hiding emotions. She scowls at the girl, raising a brow disapprovingly as she stares her judgmentally up and down.

“I’m sorry, did you say “friend”? I knew you science department chicks had a few screws loose but I didn’t think it was this bad.” She replies with a condescending tone. But instead of getting offended, the girl chuckles. That catches Y/N off guard briefly, and she looks at her with a questioning expression. The woman turns her eyes to Y/N’s, looking into them through her long lashes with an amused smile and she starts walking towards the General. Y/N can’t help but stare as even her walk is attention catching, so elegant yet humble, her long tail swinging playfully side to side. The viperwolf follows behind her, staying close to her long and toned legs and rubbing its body on her calves. She stops in front of Y/N, careful to not get into her personal space, and brings her right hand forward for a handshake.

“Name’s Toddy. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, General. You have a feared reputation ‘round ‘ere. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She says with a smile, waiting for Y/N to engage in the handshake. Y/N can’t help but notice a faint southern drawl in her way of speaking, and she looks down at her hand, admiring the elegant veins on it for a second, before clasping it with her own. Five fingers. Thankfully not a native.

“Recombinant?” Y/N asks as they shake hands, noticing how her palm is pleasantly warm. Toddy shakes her head.

“Avatar.” She replies as they end the handshake. “Though I wish I could maintain a Na’vi body permanently.”

Y/N chuckles, crossing her arms.

“It’s not a blessing. Trust me. Try sleeping with a tail and a neural whip. Nine times out of ten you’ll crush them with your body or an elbow and you’ll wake up hissing in pain.” She replies and Toddy giggles, her tail moving behind her in delight.

“If I could have this body forever, I’d take my chances. So, what brings you to these parts of base, General? Here for Sergeant Davis I assume?”

Y/N nods once as she lightly shifts in place, with her cropped ears slightly folding back in approval. Toddy notices them and her eyes narrow for a split second, before she gives Y/N a smile.

“Well then, follow me.”

。。。

Toddy brings Y/N to one of the main labs, probably the biggest one. The viperwolf follows behind them, staying close to Toddy and occasionally looking around. The lab is noisy and filled with personnel, people running around with datapads, samples and lab equipment, some of them in white coats some others in corporate attire. Everyone seems to be deep in work, not lifting their heads from what they’re doing and deep in conversations with each other. Y/N turns to Toddy as they both walk amongst them.

“It’s quite busy in here. The scientists who we see in our parts of base aren’t usually this erratic in work. Is everyday like this?” She asks, looking at the woman next to her. Toddy shakes her head.

“Not usually. It’s often quite chill in here, people mind their own research in their labs. But since that prisoner that Colonel Quaritch brought in resisted the DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner yesterday, everyone has been scrambling to figure out a way for it to not happen again. No one has been able to understand what went wrong until now, and that’s a big problem.” She explains, looking back at Y/N. “The scanner is an extremely important tool not only for the department, but for the entire mission. It is the primary way of how we figure out different things about Pandora from the memories of the native’s, avatar’s and our own people, without having to go outside and risk our lives to gain information. If a human boy can fight it then it raises a huge uncertainty if we can use it again in the future.”

Y/N looks away in thought, watching the people around them as they make way for the two larger women and the animal to pass through the human sized facility. She then turns back to Toddy.

“So, what’s your specialization? Some fancy zoology shit?” She asks as she gives the viperwolf a glance at that last sentence and Toddy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Oh? Is the General interested in me?” She says, tilting her head teasingly with a smile and Y/N scoffs, furrowing her brows like a nine year old who has been told that her playground buddy has a crush on her. That makes Toddy chuckle.

“I’m not a scientist. I’m a scout.” She then replies, turning her head to look forward as to not bump into any humans.

“A scout? What’s that? Like the rangers we have in our department?” Y/N asks with a raised brow, moving away a female scientist that nearly walks into her.

“No, not really. Your rangers are responsible for surprise raids on the Na’vi in the forest. My job on the other hand is to go into the wild to gather the samples that the scientists and the medics require for their research or other uses.” Toddy replies, turning her hips slightly to show Y/N the sample storing bag secured on her belt. “I wouldn’t be considered a scientist since I don’t do research, but I am very well informed about the ecosystems of Pandora, as well as all of its species. At least the ones humanity has been able to discover and research up until now.”

Y/N nods once, looking slightly intrigued.

“So I’m assuming you know your way around the forest then.” She says, tilting her head slightly. Toddy grins.

“Like the back of my hand.”

They have now arrived to a spacious lab room where a bunch of specialists in white coats are talking to the large male Recom amongst them, wearing ALPHA’s casual uniform. Y/N watches momentarily as Henry continues to converse with them, before turning to the beautiful woman next to her who has been eyeing Y/N’s pretty face for a few seconds now.

“This is where we part then.”

Toddy smiles, watching Y/N through her lashes with her doe eyes before reaching for a final handshake.

“Maybe I could show you ‘round the forest sometime, General. Without the uniform and the high caliber destructive weapons.” She replies, her long ears slightly raising up as she says the last sentence to Y/N. The General grasps her hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go.

“I’ll think about it, Toddy.”

“Well alright then.”

And with that, Toddy gives Y/N one final beautiful smile before turning around and walking away. Her steps are calm and her posture is relaxed as she walks, taking her time to move her hips to her own rhythm and leisure while her tail moves side to side behind her. The viperwolf follows behind, with the paddled end of its tail wagging behind it. Y/N now notices the collar on its neck, dark blue and black that match its owner’s uniform, the dark colors almost making it blend completely to the black skin of its neck. She shakes her head and turns towards the room where Henry has now noticed his General, before walking inside.

Title explanation:

SSDD - Same Shit, Different Day.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

[spikesbunny]

♥︎ THE GHOST OF YOU ♥︎

+ warnings: mentions of death of a character, wlw relationship

+ ft: ghost!beidou x pirate!fem reader

+ wc: 0.9k

+ for @edgeray's halloween event <3

+ note: this is kinda angsty, but i couldn't help it y'all. dead captain beidou gets to your feelings for reallll.

men dni!!

the sea was silent.

it had felt that way since she died. her hearty laugh was gone, the slaps against your back whenever she got a bit too excited and drunk.

and most importantly, her in general. her chapped lips against yours, her firm hands running across your body, embracing you when the storms were heavy.

she had been your captain, but she was also your love. she was your everything.

and that damn pirate had to kill her.

after that, you had taken your leave from her crew. you couldn't stay, it hurt too much to see the jolly roger the two of you had designed as children. those days had been rough, the two of you working for whatever scraps, but you were happy.

you didn't know how you could even be out on the sea right now. everything about it brought her flooding into your mind, from the smell of the salty sea, so the feeling of sand on your feet when landing on a shore. it all still stung.

you lay in your empty bed on the small ship, tossing and turning endlessly. a small wind had picked up, lanterns banging against wood disturbing that former silence. it helped, just a bit, to take your mind off her. but it would never fully soothe the pain.

a wailing sound soon joined the mix. it sounded like some lost soul, crying out for whoever.

fortunately for you, you didn't believe in ghost stories. davy jones, dead crewmates coming back to find you, it was all pirate bullshit meant to scare away youngins, right?

then why did it sound like your name being wailed? as if you were being summoned.

you open the door from your chambers, stepping out onto the deck. oddly, everything went silent again. you shake your head, thinking you must have had bad booze, or the food had gone bad.

as you turn to walk back to your room, a cold hand touches your shoulder. quickly, you turn around, hand on the holster of your gun.

and there she stood.

your lover, in all her glory. black hair cascading down those broad shoulders, the red satin covering one eye still clinging to her face. the scars, running down her body, decorating her tanned thighs and arms.

"i-it can't be" is all you can whisper, all you can mutter. there's no way its her.

and there it is. that laugh, the one from deep within her belly, the one you'd kill a man for. "i told ya, sweetheart, not even death could take me from you."

you reach out, slowly taking her calloused hand into yours. it was cool, and a shiver traveled down her spine. "h-how is this possible?"

"i told ya! those ghost stories were real." she chuckles again, bringing you closer to her cold, translucent body, hugging you tightly. "why'd ya abandon our ship though?" beidou ask.

"i-i couldn't bare it, my love. you were everywhere, it made me sick, it made me mad... besides, didn't we start out on this very tiny ship?" you ask, letting her cup your cheek.

"we did, didn't we?" beidou admires the ship she stands on with you. "i-i didn't think i'd ever see ya again," she quietly confess, a change in her usually loud and proud demeanor.

"i didn't either." you confess back.

the two of you stand in silence, holding each other dearly, not daring to speak again. finally, you open your mouth, a single question racking your mind:

"can you stay?"

beidou meets your eyes, a somber look creeping across her face. "'m afraid not, my little seal. but i promise to visit from time to time, mkay?"

her promise fills your heart with a tiny bit of hope, knowing that she wasn't gone forever, just not always by your side. "i'm gonna hold ya to that, beidou."

"i know ya will." she whispers, kissing your lips softly. her forehead presses against yours, and you suddenly forget everything: your anger, your hatred, your despise of that man. all that mattered was her, right now, in your arms.

"can ya stay the night?" you whisper, scared of what her answer might be.

"yes, my love, i can. and i will." beidou kisses your lips again, the tender action pulling at your broken heartstrings.

you wish she could stay forever, be by your side all over again. but this would do.

and so, you guide her back to the tiny bed, the one you two shared when you first began your trip as pirates. she holds you close the entire time, letting you tell her about your adventures, stealing a kiss every now and again.

finally, sleep washes over you, as you fall asleep in your lovers arms, your dreams finally sweet again.

but as you wake up, beidou is gone, all but a note that says 'i will return' in her messy handwriting. you hold dearly onto the letter, letting the tears stream down your cheeks.

you know she'll be back, but for now, and when she does, you'll find some way to keep her forever. for now, her little visits would have to suffice.

©2024 roronoaism - please do not repost or translate my works on other media sites ♡

[biblio-smia]

masterlist

800 follower celebration masterlist 1000 follower celebration masterlist

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blood runs thicker than water riley!reader. eventual ethan landry x reader. contains spoilers. growing up the child of a cop was hard. growing up the child of a cop who had been attacked (along with the mother of his child) been attacked by a serial killer four times was even harder. ongoing. [one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.]

something about you gn!reader. no ghostface. spoiler free. broken showers and unbearable heat leads you to a place you never expected. ongoing. [one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.]

scrapes and bruises gn!reader. spiderman!ethan landry. no ghostface. ethan stands you up - again. a confrontation leads to a discovery you can't take back. ongoing. [one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.] [six.]

scream | no specified love interest

in a city of millions [1] [2]

the walking dead | glenn rhee

series

the last thing i need follows the walking dead show. 4.7k + counting... you cut your losses and kept moving. that was the only way you were going to survive. but now, one person threatened to disrupt the rhythm you had; and for the first time in a long time, you were afraid. ongoing. [one.] [two.] [three.] [four.]

blurbs

coming soon...

[unfortunately-obsessed]

I'll love you like a dog (you'll betray me like a man)

A/N: Not proofread. Rushed this before the gym tbh. Hope y'all guys enjoy. AO3 link

"Why do you need to punish yourself this much?"

Most houses and apartments on Earth-42 rest in darkness, so you glance down the street, eyes straining at the neon of rooftops. It's pouring. Miguel didn't had the chance to put up a fight when you are being this cruel.

The pressure is unbearable, his shoulders tense. You watched him send Gwen back her universe despite the probability of her having to confront homelessness there. You watched Miguel try to hurt a kid, and now you're watching as he sets teams to hunt Miles.

"I need to fix this," he tells you, staring and fists clenched. His voice's flat. It's the same answer everytime. You're used to it.

And you know why, of course. It's the reason why every Spider-Man must suffer.

It's the tenderness of grief. Tender like a bruise.

Miguel suffers and weeps. It's sickening to watch how much pain can make you aggressive.

You're more than aware you're a bad person. Never a hero, never sure why you were accepted among them.

(The truth about the multiverse is that they don't know it enough. The canon theory could be right. It could be wrong. They will never know in their lifetime.

It's cruel and merciless and they will never understand it fully.

You're never fast enough to save a person. You are fast enough to watch them die.

Grief comes in waves. Miguel will never see his daughter grow up.)

"Years dedicated to this job," you lament, voice clear through rain, "It all comes down to letting people die."

In another life, we bump on each other at the grocery store. There, we are meant to a happy ending.

Never this one. Here, Miguel looks at you with dread despite all else.

He stiffens further. And you're on his side, he knows it, because you will always be, loyalty outweighting what you know is wrong.

"I don't need your approval," he says. Miguel looks at you strange, eyes fiery red as if glowing with contained rage.

You inch closer to him. Miguel keeps dooming himself. It always going to end up like this.

"I'm just saying," you start, and there's something horrible inside you, "there's no coming back after this."

It's the awareness that you will let Miguel ruin you. Besides that, you would dissect him to know what's happening in his brain, gut him like a fish.

Grief comes in waves. It outweights reason, born from love. Gabriella's laughter is so loud in his head, right now. Not one day passed that he didn't want to take the his heart out of the chest.

You enable the worst in each other. It's true, you had watched him bite off the neck of a person, blood dripping from his fangs. He had watched you punch someone until your own knuckles scratched open.

"I know," Miguel snarls. Life brimming with sorrow. "But you will be on my side."

Jeff Davis has been dead since the beginning. This can go only one way.

Yet, what were Miles supposed to do? Stay still and watch his father die?

And what were you supposed to do? You'd chose Miguel over anybody else. You were never a good person.

Miguel is, though. Despite everything else, he is trying to do what he finds right. Despite the bitterness, the grief.

Somewhere else, I try harder to stop you. Here, I don't try at all. Here, I will meet you halfway.

It rains. It had been raining. The truth is that you are better a weapon than a person. Never letting go of violence like a mother's hand.

"Always," you say.

"And you understand why," he croaks out, solemnly. Taking a shuddering breath.

You purse your lips. "I do."

Loving Miguel had made you worse. "You will regret this," he waves, leaning closer.

You cannot save. You can only try. In another universe, we grew up together. The grief doesn't end but so does the love.

"Maybe." You smile to him, it's not a happy sight. He doesn't falter. "But you can do anything and I won't leave you."

Miguel is making the wrong decision. It's okay, good people also make bad things.

You stand in front of Miguel, and he loves you too. That's why he allows you to be here. "Just don't go where I can't follow."

Everything's sacrificial– you'll make Miguel's massacre holy until there's nothing else to sacrifice.

A/N: If you like what I do, please consider supporting me and buying a coffee!