#i love metal but as someone who hopes for more than “eh not my problem” on human rights issues in an artist's own front yard it's not ideal

[smolsleepyfox]

I think the most insane thing about metal as a genre is that it's held up to be this counterculture of people who don't fit in, of going against the mainstream (as was the idea back in the day).

And then you go in and it's just edgy straight men who don't even know their outfit is heavily influenced by gay fetish wear.

It's gotten way better over the past 10 years and depends on the subgenre ofc - there's a lot of cool queer folks too, but man.

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

(Tickle) Fight Club; Chapter 2

Panda’s Notes: I just love this AU. >w< I hope you guys are having fun with it too.

[Ao3] || [Cookies Found: 0] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

[1] || [2]

Warning: This is also almost 10k words. Everyone gets at least a little bit wrecked. >w<

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The Rec Center out on the edge of Queens was always just a little quieter on weekday mornings. The after-school clubs were, well, after school, and most of the noisy people popped up after their work shifts.

Now who did that leave?

Well, so far, it looked like mostly seniors. There were yoga classes, a quilting club, maybe three different book clubs meeting at the same time, swim class; probably a few others.

Sweet old retirees were only about 80%. So, what comes after that?

College kids and freeload—freelancers.

Miles blinked at the middle-aged receptionist that he’d been attempting to make small talk with while waiting for the others. That was an…intriguing Freudian slip. He made a show of putting his jacket back on to cover his Princeton shirt, and the receptionist huffed and glanced back at his papers.

The door suddenly opened, and Miles recognized the voices making up the loud chatter.

“Ugh, speaking of…” The man murmured, and Miles wasn’t sure if he wanted him to notice the side-eye he was giving or not.

Ganke, Margo, and Hobie approached the counter, and Margo was not nearly as shy about glaring at the older man. Miles nearly flinched out of his skin as Hobie dragged a finger up his spine, and the cutting look in his eyes went dull when Hobie winked and smirked.

“Morning, Charles.” Ganke said with a casual grin. “Can we get 230, please?”

Charles huffed, reaching under the desk. There was a clatter of metal, and Ganke reached to pull the clipboard on the counter toward himself. He quickly signed something and politely thanked the receptionist as he took the key, ignoring the way they were shooed away from the desk. Miles crossed his arms, about to step back when:

“I don’t see why you hang around folks like that, Brown.” The man grumbled.

Hobie chuckled, shrugging without taking his hands out of his pockets. “Someone’s gotta keep them outta trouble, yeah? Cheers, mate.”

Miles did a full double-take before following the group to the hall. “You’re the one he likes?”

“Call me a paleontologist, eh? The way I work dinosaurs.” He snorted, and Margo punched his arm with a laugh. “Just a bit of my glamour though, innit, love?”

Miles might have been watching his hands more than listening to his words. He was wearing several rings and bracelets on the hand he kept gesturing with, and Miles kept staring until one of his fingers tapped his nose as they got to the elevator.

“Yeah, we’re not entirely sure what his problem with us is.” Ganke sighed, resting his hands in his pockets.

“We’re not?” Pavitr chimed in, looking up from his phone. “I remember something about ‘Obnoxious Flamboyant Queers’—”

Gwen stifled a laugh, and Ganke winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, thank you, Pavi…”

Pavitr shrugged, sneaking himself next to Miles as they all crowded into the elevator. “He told me that before he knew I was with them.” He chuckled, and Miles subtly tried to peek at what he was scrolling through. “Don’t mind him, though, Fish. He’s just an old gossip, likes to run his mouth without watching it.”

“We show up in costume one time…” Ganke huffed, leading them through the hallways to the same meeting room from days before. Everyone spread out for a moment, tossing their bags and jackets under the side table or onto the sofa against the back wall. Miles was careful to squeeze his backpack up against the side of the sofa, and Hobie set a fabric guitar case decked out in patches and colorful binding in the corner.

“Ain’t you a sight today, too, Freckles~” He murmured with a faint whistle, brushing freshly painted nails across Miles’ cheek as he walked back to the others. Miles rested his hand on his face; his cheek was warm.

Those marks on Hobie’s face seemed familiar; if his brain could shut up, maybe he could place it.

“Alright, Miles, step on up!” He flinched a little as Margo called him, turning to find them gathered around the big office chair that had been at the desk in the other corner. He grinned nervously, fidgeting with his hands as he took hesitant steps toward them.

“C’mon, cutie~” Margo called again, gently taking his hand as he got close and setting him into the chair. “All you, Tiger.”

Ganke stepped forward, clapping his hands together as he began. “Okay, Miles, let’s get the boring stuff out of the way; as team lead, I get to welcome you officially to our little chaos factory.”

Miles snickered, shifting the chair a bit with his foot. “They put you in charge, huh? Chaos factory might not cut it.”

“Well, I call it ‘Acting Manager’. Our little ‘Founder’ isn’t here, and I can’t trust Hobie with anything ‘bureaucratic’, so…” He rolled his eyes with a little grin as Hobie stuck his tongue out. “Anyway, yeah, things to keep in mind: The bottom line is respect. We respect space; we respect boundaries. Even if you join, you never have to do anything you don’t want to do. Everyone has their role, even outside of the ring. Safe words are the law; if you intentionally disrespect someone’s safe word, we are legally obligated to cave your head in. This room is where we usually meet for big projects, but generally, we just hang out wherever we like, a lot of planning gets done on the Discord and such. You’ll probably see this room a lot to start, since you’re new, but we know all the best places; trust me. Oh, big thing, should have said this: we do run a social media thing; sometimes we post little sessions we do. Nothing gets posted without the consent of everyone in the video; we’ll pull down anything if someone gets uncomfortable after the fact; and if it comes to it, we will delete stuff from the drives and any copies that might be floating around. Everything we can from our end.”

Miles focused on the explanation; it felt like hearing someone read out terms and conditions, but this was the first time he really knew it was important. The others looked serious, only occasionally glancing at Miles while Ganke spoke. It was a little weird, considering how he’d met them all.

A smile crossed Ganke’s face, and he chuckled. “You always look so nervous when you focus. At ease, soldier.” He teased, patting Miles’ shoulder as he walked around the chair. “Now, Miles, I like to think I know you by now, so I think you’re a good fit for the club. You know everyone here has a good impression of you. Naturally, you get final say. You wanna hang with us?”

They all seemed to light up a bit as he glanced at them. They weren’t good at hiding it, either.

He laughed softly, sitting up straighter. “Of course I want to hang out with you guys; I thought we established that much.”

Ganke clapped his hands sharply, grinning excitedly as he stepped back. “Well, alright! That’s the contract done, which means you get to enter the Gauntlet of Death~!” He reached suddenly, fluttering his fingers against Miles’ shoulder.

Miles giggled brightly, playfully shoving his hands away. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’re going to go around the group, draw straws maybe, and everyone introduces themselves. Ice breakers and initiation.”

“What exactly is the ‘death’ part?”

“You know what the ‘death’ part is, don’t be cute.” Ganke pulled the arm of the chair, turning him slowly as he spoke. Whoever’s turn it is: they get…two minutes?”

The others nodded excitedly, and a nervous smile crept onto Miles’ face.

“They’ll do an ice-breaker; you’ll get to see their style, and then, they have to show you a clip from our files. Basically, like, we tease you, but you get to see us vulnerable too.”

“Really, now?” Hobie leaned onto the back of the chair, and there was a collective eyeroll through the whole room. “Ain’t exactly easy to find one of you lot getting the better of me.”

“I have at least twenty results that say otherwise, but alright.” Gwen taunted, flinching with a squeak when Hobie glared at her.

“Anyway—” Margo spoke up, gently elbowing Hobie in the side. “How are we going to take turns? I can look for the straws again.”

Hobie leaned suddenly over the chair, one of his hands poking Miles’ cheek. “How ya feel about spinning, love?”

“Yes.” He said immediately, overlapped by Ganke’s “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, Tiger~” Hobie teased, rocking the chair slightly. “He said he wants to.”

“Miles would say yes to jumping out of a plane. We are not playing Spin the Bottle with my friend’s brain.”

“You guys play Spin the Bottle together?”

Ganke rolled his eyes, and Miles didn’t miss the blush on his face or the others snickering. “Not anymore.”

Hobie ruffled his hair to get his attention. “Because I always win.”

The smirk on his face did not help Miles’ flailing thoughts. “I-I… Wait, how do you win at—?”

Ganke had grabbed the arm of the chair, pulling hard to spin the chair as Hobie jumped back. “Step up!”

There was an excited sort of shock throughout the group before someone stepped forward and grabbed the arms of the chair. Miles flinched with a laugh as Pavitr leaned close to him.

“Uh, hey! So, I’m Pavitr Prabhakar.” He said confidently, steadying the chair before resting his hands on his chest. “I do most of the moderating on the socials, take most of the photos, and I design the costumes. Speaking of, we need to design you a costume.”

Miles nodded, and he was about to say something when Pavitr’s hands suddenly moved to his shoulders. His nails dragged slowly along Miles’ arms, and he fell into soft giggles as he curled away from him.

“That works on you, huh?” Pavitr grinned brightly. “And how about here?” He shifted to scribbles on Miles’ elbows and giggled as he snickered and crossed his arms.

It couldn’t have been an entire minute when Pavitr stopped, but he aimed some quick pokes up Miles’ sides before he pulled away and fished in his pocket for his cell phone. “Okay, it’s kind of goofy, so no judging me, but the numbers are pretty good, so I think you’ll like it.”

He set the phone in Miles’ hands, casually resting his elbow on his shoulder and leaning on him.

The clip started with Gwen, actually. She held her phone camera up to a wall mirror and waved. Hobie walked briskly behind her, putting up two fingers behind her head before ruffling her hair. Both of them laughed, and when Gwen turned, the camera got a clearer view of a small box held under her arm before it cut to a different room. Gwen had angled her camera somewhere up above a table, and she sat across from Pavitr, who was drawing something on a tablet. After a few seconds, she shifted her arms, pulling the box up from her lap and pushing it subtly toward the middle of the table.

Miles blinked, almost pausing the video. Where had he seen that box before? The video was clear enough that he could see the unique little paint details. He just couldn't remember what they were from…

Pavitr glanced up as she moved, watching her open the box and pull out a little key. The key fit into a little painted-on lock, and a mechanism was wound until it let out a few uncomfortable clicks. When the key was released, the box started to play a jingly version of “Pop Goes the Weasel”, and Pavitr smiled as he watched something the camera couldn’t see for a few seconds before going back to his drawing. Gwen leaned on one hand, watching him with a smirk. “All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel…” She sang casually, earning a little chuckle as Pavitr seemed to struggle with drawing something. The camera caught her leg shifting to give him a light kick on the sole of his shoe. “Pop goes the weasel~” Pavitr’s eyes had moved to her as he smiled playfully, but he was quick to return his gaze to his tablet. Coincidentally, this was when Hobie started sneaking slowly into frame behind Pavitr’s chair. He made a shushing motion to her and the camera, and she bit her lip, covering her mouth. “A penny for an artist’s brush; a penny for an easel—” She managed to keep her voice even through stifled snickers, and Pavitr murmured the lyrics with her as he tried to focus. “That’s the way the money goes; Pop—!” Suddenly, chaos. Hobie had lunged close, grabbing Pavitr’s hips right on cue, and Pavitr shrieked, nearly flinging his tablet as he fell into loud laughter from the kneading fingers on his waist. Hobie and Gwen laughed brightly, and she reached to close the music box and grab his tablet before it slipped off of the table.

“Okay, that was kind of hilarious.” Miles smirked slightly as the video ended and Pavitr leaned to take his phone back.

“You think so, huh?” He chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “It’s actually a teaser for a longer video—” Pavitr couldn’t help giggling at the curious spark that lit up Miles’ eyes, and he poked him teasingly on the nose. “—but you won’t earn that one so easily, Fish.”

Before Miles could tease him back, Pavitr had grabbed the arm of the chair and spun it again, much more gently, but still. Within a few seconds, the chair was grabbed by one arm, and Gwen seemed to flinch when his eyes met with hers. She smiled a bit shyly, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“I’m Gwen Stacy, and actually, the guys kind of stole me from the Theater Club you saw the other day. I play drums, and I write and choreograph the very rare scripted scenes we do. Not to mention trading favors with the Theater Club when we need them.”

Miles grinned up at her, leaning on one hand. “So, you’re an actor, huh? I could see that.”

She chuckled, but she shook her head. “A dancer, mostly. Plus, I do a lot of stunt practice.”

Miles bit his lip on a smirk. He might have been blushing. “So, you joined Fight Club to get into a new character?”

Gwen sneered despite the blush coloring her cheeks. “No, I joined Fight Club to wreck lees like you.” She moved quickly, her fingers scribbling across his stomach and squeezing at his hips. He flailed to grab at her wrists, loud giggles taking over his voice before he could protest.

Ganke leaned in suddenly, catching Miles’ leg halfway through an involuntary kick. “Whoa, okay!” He laughed. “Probably should have mentioned, but he kicks like a horse, so you guys might want t—”

“That’s not true!” Miles tried to argue, a squeak jumping out at another pinch on his hip.

“Uh, the bruise on my ribs from high school would like to object to that!” Ganke snuck a poke at Miles’ side as the others laughed with them.

“Wanna hold him for me real quick?” Gwen asked with a giggle, shifting to the side of the chair.

“Of course!” Ganke smirked and grabbed Miles’ ankles, pulling him down into the chair while Gwen lunged to blow a raspberry against his stomach. He giggled loudly and flailed, held up by Gwen keeping the chair in place.

“Y’know, you are tougher than you look, Fish.” She taunted, helping him back into the chair and punctuating the tease with a poke at Miles’ bellybutton as Ganke stepped back. “Pavi hit the roof when we got to my turn.”

She smirked over her shoulder, only to flinch slightly and giggle at the false step Pavitr gave her in return.

“Yeah, you’re a little too jumpy for me to be scared of you, Ghost.” Miles taunted back, reaching out and playfully beckoning her closer. She glanced subtly over Miles’ head before grinning brightly and sitting on his lap as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Miles tried—and failed—to ignore the heat rushing to his face as she showed him the video.

This video had started with Hobie kneeling on the floor, a pillow resting against his lap that Gwen was leaning on. She fiddled nervously with the sleeves and hood of her sweatshirt, her smile growing brighter when Hobie’s hand moved to pet her hair. Both of them looked up—Hobie smirking as Gwen shrunk with a squeaking giggle—and Ganke walked into frame and got down onto his knees, boxing them around Gwen’s thighs and setting his weight on her legs. He grinned playfully, quickly sneaking a poke on her already bare stomach before holding his hands up for her to see. “Hands.” He said simply, chuckling as she giggled softly. “What’s funny? Are you nervous already?” She glanced at the wall, but she nodded, pressing her own hands to her face. “Because…We’re going to tickle you~?” Ganke rested his hands on her stomach, and her hands didn’t hide how red her cheeks and ears ran. “I think we can assume that’s a yes.” He teased, poking at the back of her left hand. Hobie had glanced subtly at the camera, smirking just a little as he moved his right hand down to scratch lightly at her lower back. She squeaked and tried to squirm, giggling softly and grabbing at her hood again. “Wait, what are you laughing about?” Ganke asked, lifting his hands away from her. “I’m literally not even touching you.” Gwen suddenly flinched, giggling harder and arcing slightly away from the scribbling fingers on her back. “Dude, seriously!” Ganke stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “We haven’t even started yet! Hobie, what gives here?” “Oi, you’re asking me?!” Hobie lifted his hands away, placing one dramatically against his chest. In the same moment, Ganke’s hands dropped, fingers scribbling wildly across Gwen’s stomach and sides, and both of them sneered as she squealed. “My hands are right here, bruv; I have no idea what you’re on about.” “Well, it’s not me!” Ganke insisted again over her loud giggles, and his hands were immediately replaced by Hobie’s sneaking up into her armpits. He snickered and smirked as she laughed and tried to twist out of his hands. “Your girlfriend’s a goober, man.” “Guess I can’t argue much with that, eh?” Hobie pulled her back to her original position between them, and he clawed another squeal out of her before pulling his hands back. “What do you think, then, love? Ready to start?” Gwen glared up at him, and all three of them burst into giggles right after.

“You are actually the cutest thing.” Miles teased, poking at her side. “And I get the worst cute aggression.”

She pressed her palm to his face, giggling brightly as she fled from his hold and pulled the chair into a slow spin. Miles caught the playful smirk on Hobie’s face as she snuggled into his side, and he tried not to let his gaze linger on them too obviously. This was quickly made easier by the chair arm getting yanked to one side.

His best friend and gracious host smirked at him tauntingly. “Hey, I’m Ganke Lee, and this is Jackass.” Ganke leaned on one hand, gripping the back of the chair and looming over Miles. “Nah, but seriously, I am often your lovely host, depending on the event. I built and programmed our little website where the videos get posted, and a few other little…projects you might get to see sooner or later.”

He winked playfully, and he offered his hand to Miles with a little flourish. “Madam~?”

Miles barely contained a laugh, setting his hand in Ganke’s palm. “Aw, sir, aren’t you taken~?” He teased, giggling at the pout Ganke gave him in return.

“You think you’re so cute.” He accentuated the drawn-out sound by turning Miles’ hand and dragging his nails gingerly down the inside of his wrist. Miles flinched a bit, glancing up at Ganke as he struggled to keep a straight face. “But you still make that goofy face when I—” His grip locked around Miles’ hand, and he drew spiraling shapes into his palm.

“G—W-Wait!” He shoved at Ganke’s arm with his free hand, curling his fingers as he broke into stuttering sort of giggles and squeaks.

“Hm… Seven Silver Satchels…” Ganke hooked his thumb around two of Miles’ fingers, drawing them apart and scratching between them; he sighed, completely unfazed at the squeal and grip on his arm. “I can never remember those little stories. Ooh, except Bee Sting! I remember you loved that one before! Dammit, how did that go…?”

Miles started to laugh, trying to shove him again. He was definitely not in the market to relive much more beyond Ganke’s iron grip on his wrist. “Fuck you; you’d better not!”

“Swear Jar, 5 seconds!” Margo called out, with Pavitr half overlapping her.

Ganke suddenly released his hand, and Miles burst into louder laughter as he kneaded along his hips. “This is what happens when you run your mouth around here, Princess~ And don’t you forget who runs things, either.” He smirked, patting Miles’ shoulders as he grabbed his phone. He dragged the chair in a circle as he searched for a video, shaking his head as he chuckled and turned the phone to Miles.

The video started with Ganke looking just a bit antsy, a nervous smile pulling his lips as Pavitr stepped into the camera’s view and sat with him on the sofa. He lifted his hand expectantly, and Ganke hesitated just a little before offering his own hand. Pavitr took hold of his wrist, moving closer to Ganke as he pulled his arm out mostly straight. “Okay, so. I’m going to tell you a story.” Pavitr said simply, glancing back at Ganke’s nervous face. “Okay…” He said warily, shrinking back just a little bit. “Right, so… It’s about this guy. He’s kind of this grouchy and greedy treasure hunter type. Actually, he might just be a dragon, instead of a person. Anyway, he lives up in this, like, cave house—” As he mentioned the cave, Pavitr’s free hand moved up and scratched two fingers gently on the side of Ganke’s neck, earning a sharp flinch. “—and one day, a genie or something comes out of one of his hoard piles and tells him about this big treasure hidden somewhere along a long, narrow path.” He smiled as he watched gears turning in Ganke’s eyes, poking his cheek as he started again. “The dragon goes out and quickly finds a path nearby. At the very start, there’s this little tunnel leading into a big open cave. The walls inside are all covered with stones, and the floor has soft grass and fascinating little plants and mushrooms poking out. The cave has a spring in the middle, and when the light comes in just right, all of the stones sparkle, and the mushrooms glow. The dragon didn’t really care about all that though. He knew the stones weren’t worth much, and all of the plants might as well be common weeds. But still, he searches for a spot and starts digging.” Pavitr’s hand suddenly shoved under Ganke’s arm, fingers scribbling as he held onto his wrist and smirked at his laughter. “The impatient dragon huffs and leaves the cave, continuing down the path—” Pavitr dragged one finger along his arm, drawing circles along the inside of his elbow. “—Until he comes across this burrow in the ground. He tries to dig into it…” Ganke tried to pull back, giggling loudly as Pavitr’s nails ran wild in that spot.

Miles was a bit shocked at how strong Pavitr seemed to be; he knew for a fact that Ganke could pull pretty hard under pressure.

“And this family of rabbits pops up to yell at him. When he mentions the treasure, they all seem to smile before hopping off and calling him to follow.” Pavitr’s fingers finally walked down to Ganke’s wrist, and Ganke’s cheeks ran red as he watched him warily. He tapped along the tips of Ganke’s fingers as he spoke. “The family led him to a spot where the path branches out, and each rabbit taunted him with an offer of a different treasure. The dragon got so angry that he tore into the ground as he roared to the sky!” Pavitr scratched and scribbled at the center of his palm, grinning toothily as Ganke burst into cackles and shoved against his shoulder. He giggled a bit himself, cringing at the light slaps his captive flailed against his arm. “Yeah, I don’t actually remember how that story ends.” Pavitr shrugged, smirking toward the camera until Ganke’s free hand suddenly grabbed at his hip.

Miles hummed faintly, biting his lip on a smirk. Ganke’s hands…He’d actually forgotten about that. “And you have the nerve to think I’m cute, Mr. Lee~” He taunted.

Ganke smirked right back. “That isn’t what I said, Princess. I think you’re a little brat.” He pulled his phone away, closing the video on his and Pavitr’s laughter and ruffling Miles’ hair as he stepped back.

Miles laughed softly, watching as Pavitr playfully nudged Ganke’s side and Gwen whispered something to him. That’s three down, out of—

The chair was whipped around by one side, putting him face to face with Hobie and Margo. Both seemed to study him for a moment, playful grins taunting him.

“What do you reckon, lovely?” Hobie teased.

“I reckon I’ll lead.” She chuckled, and Hobie pat Miles’ head before disappearing behind the chair. “I’m Margo Kess, cutie. I partner with Ganke a lot; with our teammates out of the game, we do the hosting, more often than not. He says he does most of the programming, but I’m not slacking in that department. I mainly handle server maintenance, though.”

Miles grinned as he watched her. “How’s that been going? I know he can get all competitive when he meets someone good with tech.”

Margo glanced at Ganke, and a slight sneer crossed her face. “Oh, we moved past that already~ Now—” She snapped her fingers sharply, and all of a sudden, Hobie’s hands reached from behind the chair, snatching Miles’ wrists and pulling them over his head.

“Wait-wait-wait!” He squeaked, bursting into cackles when her hands shoved under his arms. She quickly stepped around to the side of the chair, managing to avoid the kicks that started almost immediately.

“Ooh, I know I’ve said it already, but you are just adorable!” Margo curled her fingers, scratching more earnestly with her nails and grinning as he shrieked. “It’s really that bad, huh? I was wondering during the match; you can’t even talk~! You’re such a teasy thing too; I hope you know that the snarkiest lers are always the squeakiest lees.” She leaned close, her voice just barely tingling along Miles’ neck and ear. “Every little trick you use is a little hint at one of your weaknesses. Like so…”

She let her fingers slow to drawn out spirals leading to the centers before circling back. Miles keened in the chair, trying to pull his arms down as he fell into giggly squeals. Margo chuckled, giving him a few final scribbles before pulling her hands away and thumbing stray tears off of his face. Hobie let his wrists go, and he wrapped his arms tight around himself as he caught his breath between giggles.

“There you go.” She pat his shoulder, and he cringed slightly as her fingers brushed too close to his neck. She smirked as she lifted her hands innocently. “Did we learn anything?”

“I…” Miles let out a soft laugh, hesitating to relax. “I bet I learned your weakness.”

She nodded with a smirk “Heh, you’re going to fit in great here. Hobie?”

Hobie chuckled, pressing something on Margo’s phone before handing it off. Margo rolled her eyes, shooting a sharp glare at Hobie before leaning on the chair to show Miles the clip.

The video started with Ganke waving to an apparently hidden camera with Margo working on a laptop nearby. “Margo, can you do me a favor real quick?” He grinned as she looked up. “I left our schedule book up in the meeting room. Should just be on the round table.” She nodded as she removed her headphones. “230, right?” “Yeah, go left from the elevator. But the east staircase is closest to it.” As she waved casually and walked out the door, Ganke grinned toothily before jogging to the camera. There was a familiar clicking sound—a phone keyboard—before the video cut to the meeting room. Hobie was leaning on one of the bookshelves, tuning a sticker-covered guitar with one hand while he looked at his phone in the other. The door opened out of frame, and Hobie glanced up as Margo walked into the room. “Hey, man.” She called to him, approaching the table where the camera was set up. “Sorry, you busy?” “Just some practice.” He shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You after me?” “No, Ganke said he needs the schedule book? It’s not on the table.” “Oh, damn. I moved that. ‘S up here.” He tapped the decorated spine of one of the binders with one finger before starting to play a few notes on his guitar. Margo set her hands on her hips for a second, chuckling as she shook her head and approached the shelf. She didn’t seem to notice Hobie smirking when she reached for the book. When her hands lifted over her head, Hobie suddenly scribbled his fingers under her arm, and his eyes lit up as she shrieked and laughed. She quickly shoved him backwards, watching him warily until he reached back to unclip his guitar strap. There was a frame of panic in her eyes when he set the guitar down and chased her off, both of them laughing outside of the frame. The video quickly cut to another scene, with Ganke setting up a camera while Margo shouted and Hobie laughed behind him. “Hobie Brown, you lanky prick!” Ganke stepped aside to reveal Hobie standing mostly rigid with one arm over his head. In his hand was a black headband with glittery purple cat ears that perfectly matched the biker jacket that Margo suddenly took off to lunge at him more properly. “Oi, come on now, I thought cats could jump!” Hobie taunted, managing to hold her back with his free hand. Hobie let her get closer, just barely lowering his arm as she reached up. He glanced slightly over her head, and Ganke stepped forward quietly. Just as it seemed like she might grab her headband, Ganke quickly slipped his hands under her arms; she yanked her arms down, nearly falling over as she squealed and laughed loudly. The video turned into a compilation of small clips. All of them ending in Margo getting tricked into being poked or outright attacked. Pretty much all Ganke and Hobie though, the only one with Pavitr ended with him as the one getting chased. There was one final clip at the end: apparently Ganke had asked Margo to grab the schedule book from the meeting room again. Margo had approached the shelves while looking at her phone, but as she noticed Hobie standing there, she paused. He smirked at her, motioning to the book with questioning eyes. She chuckled and sighed, shaking her head. “Nah, he doesn’t need it that bad.” Hobie burst into surprised laughter, pulling her into a hug against his side.

Miles let a few snickers slip out, having barely contained himself from laughing at most of the clips.

“She still falls for that, y’know.” Hobie noted, his fingers playing gently at the edge of Miles’ ear.

“The hell I do!” Margo huffed, giving Hobie that familiar side-eye.

“’Course you do. We just have to be more creative.” Miles barely noticed Hobie’s hand moving behind her shoulder until Margo’s hood was yanked off of her head. She was about to scold him when Ganke suddenly poked her as she was putting it back on.

“I am going to kill both of you.” She said, somehow sounding firm through her giggles.

“I noticed that Gwen didn’t have any little scenes in there.” Miles finally interjected without letting any laughter slip through.

Margo laughed softly, glancing over her shoulder, and Gwen blushed brightly as she looked away. “Oh, honey, Penguin knows not to play with me. Right, Tickle Button~?”

Gwen smiled shyly, hiding her face with her hood and squeaking nervously as Margo approached her.

The room was suddenly quieter: four sets of eyes suddenly focused on something above Miles’ head. He glanced up with a slight smile, finding Hobie leaning casually on the back of the chair as if he were simply waiting for something. He looked back down at Miles and let a smug grin spread across his face.

“Oh? Down to me then, is it?” His bracelets clinked together as his hands dropped to Miles’ shoulders. “Now, I’d hope you haven’t forgotten me already, love, but I’m Hobie Brown. If you hang around our little sites and junk, I make most of the music. With Gwenny, of course, when I need quality drums. Claw likes to waffle about and all, but he is right; I’m one of the three founders of this little thing.” He leaned close, and Miles squeaked as he whispered into his ear. “He’s right about the paperwork too, sweet; I honestly can’t stand that shit.”

Hobie stepped back, dragging his fingers under Miles’ chin while he nudged the chair with his hip. “I liked the way you put it the other day, actually. I am the final boss. ‘S my character when we do that kind of thing. Well, it used to be; the story’s somewhere else now, but we do what we want around here, y’know?”

“You guys have a whole story?” Miles asked with a bit of a chuckle, as if he weren’t struggling to keep from staring.

“Ain’t Shakespeare or anything, but I do think Gwen’s holding out on us sometimes.” Hobie leaned over him, pulling the side of his chin when his gaze wandered toward Gwen again. “If you survive this, we’ll fill you in on it. See whose side you fall on.”

Miles blushed, smiling excitedly as he ran his fingers along Hobie’s bracelets. “You all seem so keen on killing me. You’re making me think I’m the real boss now.”

The light caught on browns and greens in Hobie’s shocked eyes, and the others snickered around whispered comments. Hobie chuckled, loosely taking Miles’ hand and letting one of his bracelets slip over his hand. He passed it over Miles’ fingers with his thumb, tapping the gold band before poking his nose.

“Then I’ll give you a li’l fight, Freckles.” As Hobie looked up, Pavitr tossed him what Miles quickly recognized as the strap from Hobie’s guitar case. Or a spare one, at least. He made a single loop through the buckle, and before Miles could think of a snarky question, Hobie had snatched both of his legs. He quickly realized that the strap was just a scare tactic—not that it didn’t work, of course; the shock that ran through him when it cinched around his shins was something else—but he still found himself flailing when Hobie’s arm hooked his ankles while his free hand pried at the heels of his sneakers. He wasn’t entirely sure who suddenly pushed against the chair to keep him from slipping onto the floor, but the room felt charged with excitement. The others talked over each other before trying to shush themselves.

Hobie chuckled as he glanced back for a moment. “Let’s see what we’re working with, eh?” Miles hadn’t even heard his first shoe hit the floor before Hobie was scribbling his fingers across the mostly black sole on his sock. Miles gripped at the arms of the chair, quickly falling into loud laughter. “Oho, he’s such a ticklebug, isn’t he? Not a safe spot on this one.”

Miles squealed and flailed for a second, his hands clutching at his sleeves. “D-Don’t tease—No!” He tried to struggle, finding Ganke and Margo at his sides to keep him from falling again.

There was a sudden pause. The others gasped softly as Hobie went quiet for a moment. He chuckled again. “Ah, there he is~ Little feckin’ hypocrite.” The other shoe dropped; Hobie’s nails dug right under Miles’ toes, and Hobie sneered as he shrieked. “You can talk all day long, but you can’t take it~? So if I just… Tickle tickle tickle~?”

“Hobie!” Miles nearly whined, and Hobie laughed just a bit tauntingly.

“Oh, and he’s so cute! You’re lucky this is just the test run, love; I know some games that would kill you~!” He scratched purposefully at some of the small sunflowers printed along Miles’ socks before prodding his toes again and smirking as he giggled. “Ooh, I bet you shriek at piggies too, you little punk.”

He tapped his fingers casually on Miles’ heels, glancing over his shoulder again. “What are we thinkin’, lads?”

Miles panted softly and rested his arms over his face, smile stuck on his lips as he listened to the others conspiring.

“Just one more?” Gwen’s voice. Miles felt something tap on his knee and down his leg.

“Once more, eh? I—” Hobie suddenly laughed. “See, this is why you have my heart, Gwenny.”

Miles pulled his arms down, only for Ganke to loosely grip his wrists. He almost started to say something when another shriek ripped from his mouth. Ganke just barely managed to keep him from flailing, hugging him tight as he cackled and writhed. Gwen had looped the tail of the strap between her hands, holding his ankles mostly in place while Hobie’s nails scratched under his toes and the hairbrush in his other hand scrubbed relentlessly over both soles.

“Okay, okay!” Miles laughed, trying to struggle. “Stop it; I can’t—!”

Hobie chuckled tauntingly, tapping Miles’ foot with the back of the brush as he stood up. He took a gentle hold on Miles’ chin, smirking as he looked into his eyes. “Poor, poor Fish~” He pulled his hand away, patting his head before turning to walk. “He’s a keeper, alright, Claw.”

The room got quiet again. Gwen slipped the strap off of Miles’ legs, and Ganke softly rubbed his shoulders as he caught his breath. Both of them watched Hobie expectantly, but they also knew better than to be quiet.

“Uh, Hobie?” Gwen tried first.

“Mhm?” Hobie smirked back at her, resting his hands on his hips.

“Dude, seriously?” Ganke crossed his arms, pouting a bit.

“What? I don’t know what you’re upset about~” Hobie shrugged and took the guitar strap from Gwen, casually shouldering past her to put it away.

“Ugh. This guy…”

“Oh! I got one for him.” Gwen said, quickly pulling her phone from her pocket again.

“No, you fucking don’t.” Hobie snatched Gwen off of the floor, ignoring her surprised squeal and handing Ganke his own phone. “Twistin’ my arm all the damn time.” He stuck his tongue out, playfully shoving Ganke’s shoulder.

“We wouldn’t have to if you weren’t a menace.” Ganke taunted back, poking Hobie’s side. “Swear Jar, by the way. Five seconds.”

Miles heard Hobie laugh before a playful argument broke out, but frankly, he was still kind of winded. He smiled slightly as Ganke leaned on the chair with him and showed him the clip Hobie had apparently chosen.

The final video was marked as another teaser. Hobie and Ganke sat at a table across from each other with a microphone between them. Hobie’s face suddenly changed as he looked over Ganke’s shoulder where the camera couldn’t see; he pouted slightly, and Ganke smirked, lifting the tablet in front of him. “So, Spider-Punk~” He began with a playful smirk. “Our one and only Hobie. Finally got you to sit for a Q and A, huh?” He was speaking deliberately slow, and he rested his chin on one hand. Hobie glared at him with a slight grin of his own, about to speak when his voice caught on a stifled noise. “J-Just get on with it…” Ganke’s grin widened, and he set the tablet down to just watch him. “Aw, but why? We have so much time. The audience has been dying to get to know you; tell us about yourself.” Hobie flinched, stifling a giggle against the side of his hand. “I—That’s what the damn questions are for, isn’t it?” Ganke tsked softly and shook his head, poking something on the tablet screen. “Well, that’s not very nice.” “Wait, no—!” Hobie cracked, giggles escaping behind half a snort. “I’m sorry, okay?” “Ooh, that’s special!” Ganke glanced over at the camera. “He usually doesn’t apologize that fast.” The look in Hobie’s eyes could probably cut glass if he wasn’t struggling to shut himself up. Ganke chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned back and scrolled through the tablet. “Let’s call it a good sign for what’s to come. I hope you all are as excited as I am. You certainly didn’t waste time filling up the question box for this one. We have about…fifteen that we’re going to try to get through; and we’ll see if Hobie can take the heat~” He spared a glance at Hobie, giving a knowing smirk to the camera before pressing something. While Ganke had been talking, Hobie had let his head sink into his arms on the table, stifled laughter shaking his shoulders while one hand gripped at his sleeve. The microphone managed to pick up some giggly whining—most notably: “Gwendy, c’mon…”—before he suddenly shrieked after the button was pressed. “You little—!” Hobie’s voice broke into near-cackles, and Ganke snickered as the table shook. “Okay, okay; let’s do this for real.” Ganke called teasingly, knocking twice on the table and reaching to pat Hobie’s head while he panted and groaned. “…fucking hate you both.” Hobie huffed out, and the video faded to an end card as Ganke laughed.

Ganke huffed and rolled his eyes hard. “Ugh, he would pick the one where we can’t even see what’s happening. We’ll have to weasel it out of him later.”

Miles laughed softly, nudging Ganke’s arm. “You’re still playing Hot Seat? Without me?! Dude, come on!”

“Somethin’ you know about, Sunflower?” Hobie called playfully, as if he didn’t have Gwen upside down over his shoulder.

Miles scoffed, reaching one hand to lace his fingers with Gwen’s while she giggled. “We raised money for the yearbook playing Hot Seat. Twice! I just had Calculus with people from Mathletes and Debate Club; they’re still claiming the other’s team cheated.”

Ganke snickered. “Seriously? Oh my gosh, it was Skye and Gina, wasn’t it?”

“Yes! Which is wild because I’m pretty sure they’re also dating now.”

“Then maybe Skye can help her with her math problems so she wins the next one.”

They laughed, but then Ganke’s eyes lit up as he grabbed Miles’ shoulders. “Miles! You survived the gauntlet!”

Miles paused and smirked a bit, pulling his hand back. “Um, obviously? It takes a bit more than that to kill me.”

“Like thirty more seconds?” Margo suggested, fluttering her nails against his neck.

The others laughed just a bit teasingly when he squealed.

A new conversation had started up about where they’d be taking Miles for lunch. And by conversation, one means competition. Miles, being more or less part of the reward, wasn’t playing, and Gwen apparently didn’t care much about what they got. Though it was just as likely that she didn’t feel like getting jumped right after being held upside down for five minutes straight.

“So~ Ghost.” Miles began casually, rolling the chair over to where Gwen sat perched on the couch arm while the others fought and laughed over Mario Kart tracks.

She looked up from the stuffed penguin she was fidgeting with, smiling softly at him. “So, Fish.”

Okay, he definitely needed a new nickname now. “I think I’ve received some context clues suggesting that you have a boyfriend.”

She chuckled, resting her chin on the penguin’s head. “I might~ He tends to prefer ‘partner’ though.”

His gaze might have wandered to where Hobie sat trying to sneak tickles on Pavitr’s side. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“What about you? Anyone waiting for you?”

“Not beside some hamsters. And I’m not even their favorite.”

“Aw, you poor thing~!” She poked his nose playfully. “You seem a little too cute not to be hooked already.”

“Well, y’know, if you’re up for fishing.” He smiled as she stifled a giggle.

“What exactly are you asking me?”

Miles cringed, drumming his fingers on the chair arm. “I—Well… You can say no if it bothers you; it’s not like it’d be the first time. But, um…What would be your boundary for a relationship? Like, between us?”

Her eyes widened just a bit, but she grinned and chuckled. “That’s actually really forward; I appreciate you being up front.” She said gently, softly nudging his face with her penguin. “Well~ I wouldn’t say I’m entirely off the market. But I’m a package deal kinda thing right now. If you really want to go for me, you have to take him too.” She smirked playfully, resting her chin on her hand.

“I cannot begin to explain to you how little that bothers me.” Miles barely managed to keep a straight face, and she laughed, shaking her head.

“What are you losers chattin’ about?” Hobie appeared suddenly, and Miles flinched as his breath passed his neck.

“Stop doing that!” He giggled, bringing his hands up to his neck and immediately squeaking at a poke on his side.

“I’ll stop doin’ it when you stop laughing.” Hobie pulled the chair aside just enough to slip his arm around Gwen. “Well?”

“Miles wants to hang with us.” Gwen leaned against Hobie’s side, “The two of us, I mean.”

Hobie seemed shocked for a second—Miles had a feeling he should pretend not to notice—and a smug grin spread across his face. “Aw, Sunflower… You know how I feel about cute lees.” He practically purred, running his fingers under Miles’ chin.

Miles chuckled softly, taking hold of his hand. He started to say something when—

“Yes!” Margo shouted, jumping up and laughing triumphantly. “That’s what you get for starting stuff, Pavi!”

Pavitr flailed as she tried to ruffle his hair, and he and Ganke let her boast for a moment while they put the Switch away.

“Alright, alright; where are we heading?” Ganke smirked as Margo finally turned to him.

“Remember that diner? The one by Midtown High?”

He gasped. “Dude! You should have said that earlier! Miles, you’ll love this place. Everyone pack up!”

The group quickly grabbed all of their things, shifting all the furniture they had moved back into place before locking the room. It wasn’t until they had returned the key and got to Ganke’s van that Miles noticed anyone missing.

“Wait, where are Hobie and Pavitr?” He asked while the others were trying to decide how to Tetris his backpack in with the rest of their things in the trunk.

“Oh, they won’t be long.” Gwen had a knowing grin on her face as she looked down at him, returning her focus to holding Hobie’s guitar case in place while Margo closed the trunk. Sure enough, just as Ganke was starting the car, Pavitr came running up to the side and opened the door.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, scrambling into the middle row with Miles and Gwen and buckling his seatbelt.

“Pav, chill; they weren’t going to leave us.” As Hobie climbed into the van, Miles couldn’t help staring. Each of those marks that he’d seen on Hobie’s face now held a shiny silver piercing of some kind. Both of his eyebrows, both of his ears, his nose, and his lip. He closed the door and let himself sprawl out on the back row, stretching for a moment as he finally glanced at Miles staring.

“Hobie, seatbelt.” Ganke called back, slowly pulling the car out of the parking space.

Hobie smirked slightly, rolling his eyes as he stuck his tongue out. The silver stud there just barely caught the light from the windows before Hobie leaned back to buckle himself in behind Gwen. She reached up to lightly pinch Miles’ cheek, redirecting his staring to her.

“Heh. Freckles.” She teased, patting his shoulder before pulling her phone from her pocket.

Miles grinned to himself, relaxing into the seat. It was going to be a good summer.

[thispabulum-blog]

Welcome Back, Kotter

Been a while, eh?

I'm pretty much settled in at my new job and I just had my first first date in a long time, so let's chat.

Cuddlebug and I are still doing well! We've done a lot of work on problem-solving and conflict resolution, and I'm getting used to being in a relationship where people communicate and things can change whenever they're not working optimally. Witchcraft, I say! I don't want to go into a whole post of "Look how cute my boyfriend is", but I definitely could.

Item 9 is good. He went silent for a while, but it turns out there was some Big Family Drama going on in his world, so he's been busy sorting all that out. He's supposed to be coming over tomorrow to hang out with me and Cuddlebug, and we're very much looking forward to that.

(Cuddlebug and I recently finished watching Yuri on Ice, so that's what we've got for gifs today)

Aquaman has disappeared. The last time we spoke, over the summer, he was going through what was probably a mental health crisis. Unsurprisingly, tbh, what with his level of burnout. I don't know if he just spiraled, or if he went back to his abusive ex, or what the situation is. I hope he's doing okay.

Baymax reappeared this past spring, and then disappeared almost as quickly. Supposedly him and his ex broke up, he's now poly and pansexual, he fooled around with my boyfriend, told us he loved us, and then within weeks I was blocked on everything and his fiancee is being passive-aggressive on social media. Oh well. Good luck with the marriage, bro.

Dr. Strangelove...I might have to go into all of that some other time. He exists, but things are increasingly weird.

Anyway, I said something about a date?

As I've spoken about before, I don't super like Hinge, as far as dating apps go. I feel like the focus on "prompts" and only being able to have a few on your profile really limits what kind of insights you get about a person, and it doesn't seem to have calibrated at all to what I'm interested in. They say the best way to get it to know what you want is to swipe, so I do that a lot when I'm bored.

That being said, I did see a guy pop up recently that made me do a double-take, so I started chatting with him. His name is gonna be Ladybird for our purposes.

Let's get real, though. After this whole situation last summer, I've been really reluctant to get back into dating with any kind of enthusiasm. I already have a lot of social anxiety and all, but that absolutely set me back.

Cuddlebug and I had that date with Chex Mix last year, which, while not a disaster, was not a great experience. And then I had two dates some other time with a really cute person, and then they just kinda flaked on me. But both of those situations were more looking for someone who could hang with us as a couple - partly because I think I was still apprehensive, and partly because I feel bad when Cuddlebug doesn't get any male attention.

The problem is that I'm not only attracted to submissive bisexual guys that I could take in a fight. And ever since Space Kitten moved away, I haven't spent any time with someone physically imposing.

So this one is just for me.

Ladybird's profile started with a song lyric and invited you to finish it. I wasn't familiar, but he was cute and I needed an opener so I cheated and Googled it. The lyrics were nice and sounded like something I would be into, so I listened to it and uhhh...it's some genre of metal. I could not understand a single word they said, even though I was looking at the lyrics at the time. I guess we won't be listening to music together, then.

He's only a year younger than me, does the same kind of work that I used to do, has two really cute little dogs, and his own apartment. He doesn't have or want kids, doesn't smoke. He loves Taco Bell as much as I do, and offered to make me French toast with jam and Nutella. He also looks a bit like Adam Driver (but don't tell Cuddlebug that; it's a sore spot). He talked about looking for someone to hang out with and watch movies, eat food, fool around...all of my favorite things!

His sense of humor is kind of dry and aggressive, but he makes it a point to clarify that he's joking whenever he says something that might be taken the wrong way.

Alright well that just makes him sound like Schrodinger's Douchebag, so let's see if I can find an example...

Okay so I checked and it's mostly dirty stuff, so I'll paraphrase:

Me: "I might be interested in that, but it would take some working up to."

Ladybird: "Oh really? I expect [very intense and specific thing]."

Ladybird: "All jokes aside, I do care a lot about you and what you're feeling. Ignoring boundaries is fucked up, in my opinion."

We were doing a lot of messaging back and forth, and last weekend we even talked on the phone for a bit (which I never do, just because I hate talking on the phone so much), so we decided to do a low-key first date at an all-night pancake place after I got off work one day this past week (since I get out of work late).

Y'all, having a boyfriend makes dating new guys SO MUCH easier!

Cuddlebug picked me up from work, drove me to the restaurant, got a table for himself and ate dinner, and then sat in the car watching youtube on his phone until I was ready to go. Truly the best boyfriend. He also gave me a pocket knife.

When we got outside we even did some kissing, which was very nice! I haven't kissed a Tall Guy in a while; the dynamics of it are so weird.

The date went really well! We were both very tired - I had just gotten out of work, and it was likely past his normal bedtime, so we spent most of the time comparing notes on shitty job stuff and dealing with customers and terrible managers. He did a lot of bad accents, spoke a little Spanish at me, and didn't do anything that made me uncomfortable. It was a little awkward at times but nothing terrible. Honestly the most awkward thing was that three different servers came by our table to talk to me about how much they liked my hair. I told him "This is what it's like going out with me; you'll have to get used to it." He paid for dinner, which I wasn't counting on.

Side note: I had also started messaging a different guy around the same time, and I got them a little confused, so I showed up expecting Ladybird to be 5'9" and he is in fact 6'2". I went to put my arms around his shoulders in a Cute Girl Hug move, but it was significantly higher than I thought it would be and it made it a little weird. For me, at least (being 5'3"). He seemed fine about it.

He tastes super familiar but I couldn't place it. He had things going on this weekend, so we're planning on me going over to his house next Saturday. I'm excited!

I'll talk to you guys next weekend, or maybe sooner if I have more than 5 minutes of free time during the week.

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [4]

(GIF credit: @teamfreewill-imagine)

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 6,107

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you. (Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.)

Chapter Summary: You offer yourself as bait for a shapeshifter hunt. Things do not go as planned.

Warnings: canon level violence, language, idiots in love, mutual pining, huffy!sam, protective!sam, slight angst?, slow burn, fluff

A/N: i am SO sorry for the wait (story of my life) but to make up for it, look, 6k words! (yeah i’m sorry about that too, i don’t know what happened there.) written for @tvdspngirl314‘s birthday writing event with the prompt “You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone?” which is bolded in the fic. this also fills a square for @spnfluffbingo​!

Square Filled: Rescue Mission

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The fourth time was all you. Dean barely had to lift a finger. The result, however, was far more traumatic than he had planned and rather emphatically revealed the magnitude of his brother’s feelings toward you.

Much like the previous attempts, there was a case: a shapeshifter going after women who conveniently happened to fit your description. The strategy was obvious, and you’d leaped at the opportunity to both make yourself useful and hopefully take the place of what would have otherwise been the next innocent civilian victim. But of course, Sam resisted at first.

“No. Absolutely not! We don’t know enough about this guy for you to just jump into his waiting arms, Y/N!” The fervent indignation in his tone and body language was palpable. Sam was rarely one to raise his voice or sport much of a temper at all really, but lately these heated outbursts seemed to be occurring more frequently, and frankly you were getting sick of it. The false hope they momentarily granted you through the notion that perhaps he cared about you as more than a friend was one thing. What’s more, the way his voice lowered half an octave combined with the sight of his flared nostrils, puffed chest, and straining jaw always seemed to have a sideways effect on you, in that it was impossible to keep your attention on his words alone. But boy did you try.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.  

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?” 

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

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TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

[peakywitch]

Tommy X reader with Prompt no.24 please❤️❤️❤️

Charlie, Mommy and Daddy - Tommy Shelby

Hi beautiful! sorry for keeping you waiting, life is crazy. 

words: 3.5k WOW

warnings: usual, bad language, mentions of dead people and war, angst and fights. 

PART TWO COMING SOON DUE TO THE AMOUNT OF LOVE GOT!!

masterlist

prompt: 24 “Pack your shit and leave. Get the fuck out of my sight!”

As the last days of October approached, Y/N already knew that Tommy's birthday was near. He had never revealed the date, so a few years ago Y/N started celebrating it one of the many days that were after the twentieth. First, it was the 21st, the next year the 22nd, and so on.

He always smiled at the vanilla and chocolate cake that she baked especially for him.

"Did I guess right?" she always asked, with a tired smile, her hair with a little flour and Charlie in her arms.

"Flavor? Yes. The date? Maybe." He answered, with a mischievous and funny smile.

That October 25, 1925, was like any other. While Tommy was in Watery Lane dealing with legal problems, Y/N and Charlie were trying to finish baking a cake.

"Why do we cook?" Charlie asked, as he walked and stumbled through the kitchen.

"Because today... might be daddy's birthday, Charlie." Y/N smiled, as she finished transferring the yellow mixture to a baking dish.

"How many years is daddy turning?" The woman could hear the question even over the creaking noise of the oven door opening.

"Five hundred." Y/N joked, leaving the tray in the oven and closing the door.

Charlie exploded into euphoric laughter.

After a few minutes, the boy asked a question:

“Is mummy going to congratulate daddy for his birthday? Is she coming back?”

The question left his lips so careless, he never understood. But what could someone expect from a four-year-old? But, although he didn´t understand the subject, Tommy actually never told him. “She went away.” He said whenever Charlie asked. He also never answered the “when is she coming back” question.

 “I think you should ask that to your father, Charles.” She answered slightly, he then bolted out into the garden to kick off wilted autumn leaves and on the ground.

While cleaning everything they used to cook, Y/N doubted that Thomas’s birthday was today, but she was sure he was turning 35. The age difference tormented them a bit, but for only seven years. Although in the past it had been the subject of discussion and disagreements, both were clear that one knew more than the other about certain things. Y/N didn't understand anything about politics or horses, and Tommy had no idea how he should act in situations of extreme emotional sensitivity. But they tried, Y/N tried to pet the horses and Tommy wiped her tears with a white handkerchief that had her name embroidered on it but was always in his pocket.

The half-hour of baking went by quickly, Y/N could only think about whether or not today was Tommy's birthday, she was hoping she could find out.

“Is this how it will be? Will I come to my house and watch you cook while my son plays outside?" asked a smile at the door.

The voice took her by surprise, forcing the girl to drop a spoon mixing chocolate. It fell to the floor, staining the white marble brown. It could have been worse, Tommy thought seeing the mess he caused in an instant, it could have been blood.

"Tommy!" she smiled, then hugged him tightly. "Happy possible birthday, possible birthday boy." She said in his ear, as she stroked his nape with her flour-stained hand.

He thanked her and kissed her forehead.

"So… I guessed right?" she laughed, Tommy could only keep his smile on his face, looking into her eyes “Oh come on. Tell me yes once, or at least tell me that I did well one of these last times. "

"Maybe." He said softly, after clearing his throat. He pulled away from her, leaned against the wall, and stroked his lip with a cigarette that he pulled from a metal box once his back was against the wall.

"I'll put salt in your coffee." She laughed as she cleaned up the mess.

"I don't drink coffee, Y/N." he smoked.

"Then... I'll move all the whiskey bottles around for you and hide them." She backed off, rinsing off the dropped spoon.

"I have them locked up and you know it." He reminded her.

Both looks smiled.

…

When the clock struck midnight, Charlie had been asleep for four hours. Tommy and Y/N had been talking about life in his office. Thomas had a glass of Irish in his hand and Y/N had a cup of tea.

The fire was loud, but the photo of Grace kept in Thomas's left desk drawer screamed in Y/N's mind. Charlie's questions echoed too, and that made the poor woman bite her lip with fervor.

"Y/N" Tommy clarified his voice "would you be so kind as to explain to me that you are so stressed out?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Charlie should know."

Without warning or a proper introduction, Y/N spat out what was so killing her. Although she told her husband a lot, she did not tell him about those times he murmured her name in his dreams. Neither of her constant demand to be like her. Because she felt like he was never going to love her the way he loved Grace. She wasn't asking him to love her more than Charlie, she would never ask that. But she felt like she could never fill Grace's place.

"The what?" he asked, lighting a cigarette and settling into the single chair.

“About Grace, Tom. Don't play games with me." She replied, setting the cup of tea on the small glass table that was holding the bottle of whiskey.

"I already told him, a month ago." He said as if nothing.

Tommy had that talent. He spoke of love, death, and war as if they were as simple as numbers. Two plus two is four, you love, you die and people kill. There was never a sugar coating with others. But with Grace's death, it was never like that. Maybe it never would be, but he had to be an adult and explain the truth to his child in a simple way.

“You told him she's gone, he thinks he's in America, Tommy. I think you should…” she continued, insisting softly in her voice.

"Are you telling me how to raise my son, Y/N?" he asked, after taking the cigarette from his lips and pointing at her.

Y/N didn't speak, but pressed her lips tighter, trying not to blurt out a mention about all those times Charlie called her Mom when he was really tired.

She looked at the gold band on her ring finger, her chest sank. She swallowed hard, forgetting how to breathe and starting to breathe rapidly.

"Because if there's one of the two of us who can give a talk about parenting…" Tommy started, stubbing out his cigarette as he tossed it into the fire. "It's me."

"It's me." Y/N laughed, mimicking him. The comments, the stories, the complaints, and the sadness would not be tolerated anymore. "You never..." she began, trying to be as cordial as possible, it was late.

"Here we fuckin' go," Tommy complained, blinking slowly but not moving. He remained static, imposingly static.

“Yes, here we fuckin’ go, you bloody idiot. I know Charlie more than you do; I saw him more than you in these last four years. " Y/N got up from the comfortable sofa, starting to walk through her husband's private office. "Besides…!" the words hurt when leaving, everything she wanted to talk to him and never could, was coming out in the worst way, between screams and tears “Besides, I don't know what the hell to say when he asks me if I'm his mother! Because...!" the words suddenly stopped, they just didn't come out anymore.

Tommy was staring at her frowning; anger ran through his body.

“If you know him better than I do, why don't you tell him in a way that doesn't hurt, eh? Tell him about your bloody God and the angels, why don't you bring her flowers with him too?!"

The questions shot out of him after he jumped up like a bullet from his chair.

"Take him and tell him, tell him the story because I can't! Because I don't want to be the one to tell him that Grace is dead and that she won't be back!” she screamed back at him.

Both faces were transformed, Tommy had never looked so helpless and Y/N at first couldn't understand why Tommy couldn't do it until she had an epiphany.

"Oh my god..." Y/N whispered, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her nose was turning red "You still... you still love her."

Thomas's face remained the same as before, did not change with the passing of seconds.

Everything was starting to make sense.

She suspected it, but now she was sure that that woman was still in his heart. She denied every thought and sent it to the back of her mind, ignoring the pain and anger. But she didn't realize it, until today.

“That's why you don't want to have any more children…” she whispered “You are not afraid to die and leave your children alone, Shelby. You don't want anything that isn't hers…” The realization broke her heart, her tears had a life of their own, they all went at different rates falling down her face “My God, what an idiot I was! At what point did I think you loved me!?" she screamed.

Then nothing.

There was only silence. On both sides. One could only hear the fire, like a few minutes ago.

"Why are you with me?" she asked, her heart ready to break again “Do I have her eyes? Do I have the same perfume?" she began to question, as she tapped him lightly on the shoulders and tried to keep her gaze on his blue eyes.

"Do I have her hands? Or what the fuck is it? I kiss just like her, huh? What the hell of her do you see in me?" she asked even more hysterical, her heart wouldn't stop beating and breaking every second, with every word.

Then, with only a few words everything went to hell:

“Mommy? Why are you hitting Daddy?”

Both adults looked at the little boy, standing on the door on his sleeping clothes. His hair was messy and had the cutest sleepy face ever. It melted Y/N’s heart, but Tommy didn’t care about no one else.

“I’ll be up in a minute, Charlie, go to bed.” She murmured while getting closer to the kid “Everything is fine, don’t worry…” she kissed his forehead and he disappeared, so she closed the door.

Y/N turned around and saw Tommy making a phone call, balancing the tube between his ear and shoulder while he served more Irish on his glass.

“Yes, yes please…okay, right now. Carnaby Street, the second house on your left. Yes… thank you.” He hung up and drank more.

“Tommy…” Y/N mumbled while trying to get closer to him.

He ignored her, walking towards a bookshelf across the room. He opened a book while being watched over by his wife.

“Please, I’m sorry. I…” she was about to burst down into tears, she was feeling helpless.

Tommy took a couple of papers from inside the book and left them on the black desk.

“Twenty pounds. Grab ‘em, pack your shit, and go.” He coldly commanded.

“Wha…what?”

Suddenly there was no more air in the room, it was also getting tinnier and tinnier. Her feelings were strangling her soul, she would fall defenseless on the floor at any given time.

“We need to be alone.” He said, and there it was again. He was being artistically careless as always.

“I don’t need to be away from you, I want to be with you and…”

“A car will be here in ten minutes, pack your things.”

He lit a cigar and sat on his black chair, then proceeded to do some paperwork.

“Tommy…” she cried softly, he was breaking her heart into a million pieces. “You are breaking my heart, please…”

“Nine minutes.” He muttered, without even looking at her.

How could he not care about here? The question was on her mind when she left him alone in his office, the doubt and the pain only grew bigger and bigger as she walked up the stairs to their room.

She opened the door, and everything came back to her.

The feelings she had ten years ago, seeing him date other women while she waited patiently for him to notice her, comforting him all those long nights after the war where he would just cry silently, him exchanging her arms for Grace’s and replacing her in every aspect with the Irish woman… Every single moment washed over her. Like an abnormal gigantic wave, it shook her. She suddenly became lost, she forgot where her dresses were, where her shoes were, and where the man she always loved was. But most importantly, she wondered if there ever was any love in him for her.

“Mommy?” a soft voice asked, and she came back to reality.

There, in the massive bed, was a little body wearing white pyjamas, hugging a stuffed bunny.

He looked sad and tired, just as she did.

“Hey” she susurrated while getting closer to him. She sited on the bed by his side and hugged him. “Charlie…” she whispered while caressing his hair “I have to leave, but we’ll see each other, alright?” Y/N tried to contain her tears, but they were being obedient to her heart.

“No!” he cried, hugging her as tightly as he could “Don’t leave me!”

The little boy was a mess, he was hugging her desperately while crying. She wrapped her arms around him, and another wave washed over her, but this time it was guilt and sorrow.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie…” she started to repeat his name quickly, trying to get the kid to look at her “Charlie…look…look at me, Charlie.”

His blue eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were trembling, there was no way Y/N would leave the kid alone here. Charlie was her son, either Tommy liked it or not.

“Grab your coat, you are coming with me. We are going a few days with Auntie Esme, okay?” she cleaned his tears with her thumb and the little kid did the same with hers.

“Don’t cry, mommy.” She smiled with an expression of sadness, then kissed his forehead.

“Don’t forget Mr. Whiskers, he has to come with us so he doesn’t feel lonely without you.”

“Okay…” he whispered and then left.

She started to pack everything she could, which in five minutes it means: two blouses, one pair of pants, a few undergarments, and three dresses. She also took a few things for Charlie. Everything was in the brown leather handbag that had her initials.

“I’m ready.” Said Charlie, while appearing on the doorway with Mr. Whiskers on his left hand and his book Y/N read for him every night.

“Alright, are you ready to have a fun week with your cousins?” she asked while closing her bag, trying to cheer the little boy.

“Yes!” he said, with a smile.

She took her bag and walked to the door, she was now by his side. She saw the room one last time, she knew that was the last time she would leave it with it being “their” room. Because she knew this was the end, it was now Tommy’s room, as it always was.

Tommy’s room. Tommy’s house. Tommy’s kitchen. Everything belonged to him, even she did.

“There’s a car waiting for you, Ms. Shelby.” Said Frances, with a polite smile.

“Thank you, Frances…” she said, and turned around, closing the door. “Let’s go, Charlie.”

She lifted the kid and left him on her hip, while he gripped into her trying not to fall.

“We are going to Auntie Esme’s, we will have lots of fun and…”

She said a lot of things trying to cheer him up, but she was trying to convince herself she wouldn’t cry more that one night for that man.

She walked down the stairs lost in the sorrow, trying to hold everything in place. The kid, the bag, the feelings. She tried to get to the door before Thomas acknowledgement, but he was there, looking at her as if she was just a stranger. But Y/N knew that look on his face. That’s the way he looked at Sabini, that was the way he looked at Kimber before he shot him dead. He was looking at her as if she was his enemy, one who he had to erase.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going with Charlie, eh?” he asked, abruptly and aggressively.

“He´s coming with me.” She said, trying to sound secure and big.

“He’s staying here, this is his house.” He fired back “And I’m his father.”

“But I’m his home.” She fought, Charlie’s face was buried on her neck, he was so confused. “And you are never there for him at night when he cries, neither in the morning when he wants to have breakfast. You are only there to punish him, or to tell him to fuck off because you are working. And he needs time and someone, not a shit tone of money and a massive castle.”

“He’s not your son.”

“Yes, I am.” He cried on her ear, wetting her neck. “You are my mommy.” He kept on crying, he was nervous and scared. He was never in their fights.

“Move countries, I don’t give a fuck anymore. Get the fuck out of my sight, Y/N. Both of you.” He sounded like a mad dog, but at the same time like a lost one. He began to walk away, but froze when he heard:

“Goodbye, Mr. Shelby.”

He couldn’t move, he stood right there. Y/N shut the door slightly and walked straight into the car. She saluted the chauffer and gave him John and Esme’s address.

Ten minutes into the drive, Charlie began to miss Tommy.

“We will have fun, okay? We will play with their dogs, and we will eat freshly picked eggs. We can also go to the lake and do picnics with auntie Esme, how does that sound?” he nodded.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: open

@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6

@fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby 

@stydia-4-ever

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series); consensual sex (one night stand, dirty bathroom sex)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Here’s another taste of Andy as I wrestle with Omerta.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You didn’t expect to spend your morning in the maternity ward. A last minute appointment just before your closing shift at the cafe. You had your uniform in your bag and a granola bar burning a hole in your stomach.

You also didn’t expect to feel this… overwhelmed. Stepping out of the doctor’s office, you fell into one of the pleather chairs in the waiting room. You just needed to breathe. Needed to keep that bunch of oats from coming up.

You went over everything Dr. Xui had told you. First, the three trimesters and upon prompting, an in-depth discussion of abortive measures. You’d thought you were ready for the latter but that had turn to a torturous uncertainty. 

It would be easier in the long run but it was also terrifying. Yes, it was a mistake but you weren’t sure if you could just erase this one so easily. Not without leaving a mark.

So she sent you away with a card for an agency which could help place the child, if that was what you decided on. You bent the card between your fingers and felt the raised font on its face. You weren’t ready for a child. Old enough, sure, probably more than, but this wasn’t the life to bring another into.

You stood and swallowed the acid in your throat. You smiled at the receptionist as you passed and went to the elevator. You hit the button and thought back to that night. 

He’d bought you a drink, a second, then a third. You danced, not well, and then…

The doors opened and shook you from your reverie. You stepped inside and turned as the metal slid back into place with a ding. You slid the card in the front pocket of your bag and hugged the worn leather against you. 

You’d called the agency before work, or on your break. You only had enough time to get there and get changed. The doors opened again and two passengers left. You sensed movement as more got on and a body sidled closer to yours.

“Hey,” The voice sank deep into your chest like a knife. “Ah, this might be out on a limb, but you remember me?”

You glanced over. It was him. You sucked your bottom lip under your teeth and blinked. You shook your head and steadied yourself as you looked past the woman in front of you to the columns of buttons.

“Shit,” You muttered.

“That sounds like a yes,” He chuckled. “Look, I don’t wanna make this awkward. Just… you visiting someone?”

“Hmm?” You turned to him again, stunned.

“A new niece or nephew?” He wondered. “You, uh, got on at the maternity floor so I…”

“Oh… no,” You said dumbly. “No, I just had…” You looked up as the L flashed above. Great. “An appointment.” The doors opened smoothly. “Look, I gotta run. I got work in an hour and barely that to get across town.”

“Wait,” He followed you out. “Wait, you had an appointment?”

You rushed towards the revolving doors at the front of the hospital. You pushed through and he hit the heavy plastic as he barely squeezed in before he was crushed. You came out the other side and clamoured down the three steps to even ground.

“Hey, hey,” He grabbed your elbow and turned you back. 

You looked around at the people around you. No one seemed to notice your distress or that this man was holding onto you.

“I can’t talk,” You tried to pull away.

“There someone else? A boyfriend? You just planning?” He asked. “Just tell me it’s not--” His brows lifted and his mouth hung open.

You gulped and let out a shaky breath. You looked over your shoulder as the hissing city bus approached.

“Shoot, that’s my ride,” You wriggled free of him and darted into the parking lot. 

A car honked at you as your bag bounced against your hip and you waved at the bus as it came to the stop. You were out of breath when you reached it and the driver gave you an impatient look. The door unfolded behind you as you flashed your pass and made your way past the front seats.

As the bus pulled away, you saw him as he came to a stop beside the domed shelter. His hands went to his hips as he watched you shuttled off and you clung to a bar as you steadied yourself. 

You had the worst fucking timing.

🌙

When you got to work, you offered to take over the midday bake for Colin. He took the till and you kept in the back. Your head was spinning from all that had come to light in the last few days. Pregnancy, appointments, that man. You couldn’t even think his name. He was still a stranger to you.

You were left for the last two hours to close. Traffic slowed then and you didn’t mind the lull. You cleaned out the machines and slowly shut them down as customers trickled out. Fifteen minutes until you could lock up and started mopping.

The door rang as you cleared a table of square plates and coffee-tinged mugs. 

You called over your shoulder. “Just a moment, please.” 

You finished up and turned with your tray of dishes. It bobbled in your grasp and you struggled to keep hold of it as the man stood expectantly facing you. He caught the edge and saved a spoon from falling.

“Here, let me help,” He wrestled you for the tray and you let go, afraid that it would all go flying. “You shouldn’t be carrying so much.”

Andy Barber turned and walked to the counter and set the tray on the end where drinks were placed for waiting customers. You went around the other side to the till.

“Our espresso machine in off for the night but I still have medium roast.” You offered.

He approached slowly and rested a hand on the glass display for the desserts. He leaned on it, his other hand on his hip as he looked at you. Sober and staunch.

“I’m not here for coffee,” He said.

You looked around the empty cafe.

“So I can cash out? We’re about to close.”

“You can’t just not talk to me,” He said. “You have to tell me if that’s my baby.”

You cleared your throat and opened your till with a loud clang. You took out the drawer and closed it. You turned and began to balance your cash.

“How did you even find me?” You asked.

The small door swung as he stepped around the counter and came to stand beside you.

“I have friends at city hall and down at the station,” He said. “I did check the diner first and they told me you had a second job.”

“Well, I’m working,” You filled out the cash sheet and placed it on the drawer. “I gotta go put this in the safe.”

He was quiet as you went to the back and into the small office that hid the safe. You shoved the drawer inside for the opener and closed it. You returned to the front as Andy fingered the metal logo on the latte machine.

“You gonna tell me?” He said. “Is it mine? Is there someone else?”

“Not anyone who could be the father,” You sighed. “Look, I’m not keeping it.”

“What?” He breathed. “You’re--”

“I haven’t decided. I was talking about my options and I think I prefer adoption over the alternative.”

“Adoption? Don’t I get a say in my child’s life?”

“I don’t know you. You don’t know me. This is easier.” You began to wipe down the counter.

“It’s not.” He said. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a child.”

“Andy,” You said his name and it felt strange on your tongue. “That’s why. I know about your family. About your wife.” You glanced down at the ring on his finger. “It was one night. It’s not the rest of our lives.”

“I don’t want you to get rid of it,” He pulled his hand from the counter and tucked it in his pocket. “And you can’t without my say.”

“Maybe you can adopt it? You, and when your wife wakes up…”

“She’s not going to wake up,” He said softly. 

“Then you can--”

“I don’t need to adopt my child,” He sneered. “I’m a lawyer. I know my rights, do you?”

Your throat constricted and you wrung the rag in your hands.

“I have to activate the security system. You need to leave. We’re closed.” You said.

“You can’t run from me. Or our baby.” He frowned. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I’m on the clock. I have work to do.” 

“So, when can we talk?” His voice was brittle, though whether it was out of anger or desperation, you couldn’t tell.

“I don’t have a lot of time, okay? I work two jobs. I don’t have days off. Do you understand why that might be a problem here.” You gestured to your stomach, hidden beneath your apron. Not very noticeable yet, but it would be soon enough.

“Which is why we need to talk,” He stated. “Tomorrow?”

“I open at the diner and I close here. Again.” You said. 

“The next day?” He asked.

“Fine. I finish work at five. Diner.” You took the dishes from the tray and dumped them into the sink. 

“I’ll drive you home then,” He said.

“Alright.” You accepted as you turned away from the sink. “I’ll show you out.”

🌙

It was the day. You hadn’t stopped thinking of it, dreading it, since that night in the cafe. It felt like the walls were falling down, like your entire being was folding in on itself.

You were almost done work. Estelle let you cash out your tips as she made her rounds with the evening servers. As you looked up, she was pouring coffee for a man at a table for two. You hadn’t seen him come in. You gathered up your tips and untied your apron.

You folded it up in your bag, it needed a wash, and unclipped your name tag as you approached the table.

“How long have you been here?” You asked. Andy stirred cream into his coffee as he glanced up at you.

“Ten minutes,” He waved to the other chair. “Food any good here?”

“Eh, this isn’t really high dining,” You stayed standing. “Coffee’s burnt.”

He took a gulp and nodded. “It is.”

“You said you’d drive me home,” You crossed your arms. “And I’m not very hungry.”

“We can go somewhere else,” He offered as he stood and flipped a few bills onto the table.

“I have food at home.” You insisted. 

“Alright,” He shrugged and gestured you along. 

He followed you and reached past you to open the door. He came up beside you on the sidewalk and directed you along to his car. He opened that door two and you reluctantly climbed in. He closed it and rounded the car to the driver’s side. He settled in and slid his phone into the holder clipped to the vent. 

“Address?” He asked. You told him and he typed it in. 

He sat back and turned the engine.

It was silent as he pulled out. You didn’t know what to say and you expected he had a lot to say. Maybe he didn’t know how.

“I could sign away my parental rights,” You said quietly. “I was reading about it online. If you want the kid…”

“You don’t want it? At all?” He gripped the wheel. “Have you even thought about it? Or did you just refuse to. Do you believe all these excuses you spit out?”

“You don’t understand--”

“What is it? Two jobs? Too expensive?” He scoffed. “You know, legally I’d have to provide support. And you’d get maternity leave.”

“A whole four weeks,” You shook your head. “There’s a lot more than just that, okay?”

“How old are you?” He asked sharply. “You look more than old enough to handle it.”

You recoiled at the accusation. You weren’t quite his age but you were still young enough to wait a little longer.

“Don’t act like you know me or my life, Mister District Attorney,” You spat. 

“Assistant--”

“It doesn’t matter.” You huffed. “I don’t understand what you want from me. I offered to give you the child, to sign over my rights. I have offered my body, to carry your child to term, because of your rights.”

“I’m trying to help you.” He said. “Maybe you should start helping yourself.”

“Help myself? I was doing just that until you came along.” 

He was quiet. His GPS led him onto your street and he pulled up in front of your parents’ driveway.

“Don’t you think about that night? Was it so bad?” He shifted into park.

“I can barely remember that night,” You grasped the door handle. “If it wasn’t for this baby, I’d happily forget it completely.”

He looked at you, his thick brows drew together and he stretched his arm between your seats.

“Really?” He asked. You shrugged and looked out the window to your parents’ house. “I never stopped thinking about it. Or you.”

“You don’t know me. We were drunk. Stupid.” You said.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” He countered.

“Well, I was.” You opened the door an inch and he grabbed your arm.

“I had a family. Fourteen years. And now they’re just gone.” He clung to you and you let the door close. “But this could be a new start. Something I’d never thought I’d get.”

“Andy, I’m sorry. About your family, about not telling you, but this isn’t a family situation. This is fucked up.” You wriggled against his grip. “We fucked beside a toilet. That’s hardly romance. This isn’t fate, this is just stupidity.”

He squeezed and you gasped at his sheer strength. His face darkened and you pressed yourself to the door.

“I won’t have another child taken from me and I won’t have another fractured family.” He snarled. 

“No…”

“You try to give this kid away and I will keep you in court until it’s here. If you can even afford the retainer fee. This isn’t your child, it’s ours.” He pulled you away from the door, his nose almost touched yours as he leaned into you. “I can give you everything or I can take everything from you.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself?”

“It was one night!” You hissed.

“And this,” His other hand touched your stomach. “That’s the rest of our lives.”

“Let me go.” You struggled against him.

“So what? So you can go and flush it out?”

“I just want to go home, Andy,” You trembled. “Please, I already told you I’m having the baby but I just can’t… keep it.”

“You will keep it,” He grabbed your other arm and jolted you. “You understand me.”

“Andy--”

He let go of you and sat back. He hit the locks before you could open the door. He looked past you and you followed his gaze to your father as he lifted the garage door.

“That your dad?” He asked.

You nodded.

“You live with your parents?”

Another nod.

“They know?”

“Not yet.” You answered grimly.

“And if they did?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, should I come in and tell them the good news or--”

“Or what?”

“Or are you going to be a good mother and call the doctor to schedule your next check-up?”

You looked to your lap. You shoved your hand into your bag and pulled out your phone. You unlocked it and hit nine then one and he slapped it out of your hand.

“I told you, I got friends down there, everywhere in this town.” He growled. “And I will make sure everyone knows what you did and what you do from here.”

“I’m just a waitress--”

“At a locally owned diner that can’t afford a bad reputation,” He said. “I know Saul. He had a lawsuit about a year back against a former employee. Small time but he won. You might remember. He’s not the type of guy who likes to lose money. Business over people.”

“You can’t--”

“Look, I don’t want to, I really don’t. What I want is to drive you to your appointments, get everything we need for the baby, and keep you comfortable. That doesn’t sound so terrible to me.” 

He dropped his arm and unlocked the doors. 

“Speaking of, you should go get some rest. Take some time to think. I’ll see you tomorrow when you’ve decided.” He slung his hand over the wheel. 

“Decided?” You uttered.

“How you wanna do this;” He smiled at his reflection in the rear view, “The easy way or the hard way.”

[polarisbibliotheque]

DMC OC Week - Day 3: Past

OC + DMC Universe

Summary: “After 10 years, Dante goes back to the city of Remény, a place where he left much more than dead demons and thankful humans. He’d finally meet her again.”

Content: Honestly, everything you’d find in a DMC game. But with more existential crisis and exploration of repressed feelings (it’s a wild ride).

Age rating: +16

Word Count: 3.3k

“So… What’s your name, lady?”

On that grim day, when all hope was lost and Diana thought death was certain, that man in a red coat jumped in to help her defend her own life. She deemed it as good as gone, but that man stood by her side when no one else did.

And not only that – when Diana was sure she would get mortally hit, he stood in front of the blade, a scythe piercing through his chest. She screamed in horror as blood gushed from the wound, pooling around her feet and sprinkling on her hands and face. He couldn’t die, not for her. If the only person who decided to help her had to give their life for Diana, she would choose to die – he definitely was too good to go in such a terrible manner.

But he simply took the scythe off his chest and kept on going. As shocked as she was, Diana still managed to get the bloody scythe from the floor and fight. It was heavy and clunky, but she’d do whatever she needed to survive.

When all demons were gone, that man turned around to speak to her for the first time.

“Diana. And yours?”

“Most people call me Dante.” As he answered, Diana could only raise one eyebrow. ‘Most people’? How many other names did he have? “Those people who left you behind, you know them?”

“Hmmm.” Her reply was nothing more than an annoyed hum and it would remain like that. Diana checked her wound to assess how bad it was, but her heart ached more than any physical pain she felt.

What happened that day was only the last drop of water to overflow the cup of hurt emotions Diana had inside. For too long she had dealt with being mistreated by everyone around her – but she didn’t expect to be left to die like that.

Dante kept watching her for a while… She reminded him of someone.

“You think they’ll open those doors now to let you in?” He had to find out what to do next. Dante needed to get the job done, but now she was under his protection. He wouldn’t leave Diana behind, but he couldn’t move on killing demons relentlessly with a hurt human by his side. He needed to get her to safety.

And Diana just stared back at him.

“Perhaps if we ask nicely.” Her statement dripped sarcasm, making him laugh briefly. It wasn’t a laugh of enjoyment, but one that recognized how humans could sometimes be worse than demons. And it also recognized some mannerisms from a company he missed so much in his life.

“What about your family? Do you have someone around?”

“I told them to leave during the first wave. We weren’t together when the demons attacked, and I didn’t want them to die because of me.”

Diana barely looked at Dante, but he felt a pull in his heart with her words. He knew exactly what she meant – Dante himself would get the people he loved to safety first during emergencies and if he died, so be it. At least they were safe.

Especially if it was his family. If he still had one.

“The sun’s about to set, we better find a safe place to spend the night.” He looked at the skies, the color changing to a darker tone. At night, the city would be swarming with demons that lurked in the shadows – and those things would smell Diana’s fresh blood like sharks.

“Don’t worry about me, you have a job to do. I can go on my own.” Diana took the scythe from the floor again, testing the weight on her leg. It hurt more than she expected, and it didn’t stop bleeding.

But she learnt to be alone. It had been a very long time since she couldn’t trust anyone, and that day sealed her belief that she could depend on herself and herself only. Although Dante saved her, Diana also thought the world of the people who left her to die. The people she forgave so much so she wouldn’t be alone – but she was. Left to die. Left to survive.

Dante furrowed his brows. Vergil. Diana had some of his mannerisms: the way she was cold and distant, sarcastic and stoic. A lone survivor – instead of keeping it light-hearted like the Crimson Slayer, she had the cold, polite aura of the Dark Slayer.

Dante couldn’t leave her there to die.

“Well, you’re not going very far with that leg of yours.” He pointed out, making her stare at him. “C’mon. I’d prefer to continue our chat in a place where those demons won’t turn you into their Happy Meal time.”

A faint smile appeared on Diana’s lips, even though she didn’t want to. That alone made Dante a little more content about himself – he knew Vergil was hard to crack, but Dante had his ways to deal with his brother. Perhaps he could do the same with her.

When someone was so used to harshness, a little kindness could go a long way.

*

The mirrored walls were covered in blood. Chairs and tables were tossed around, broken, blocking the way. The floor had drag marks everywhere, covered in crystals of broken glass, bottles and cups. There were no bodies left – and if there were, they wouldn’t want to see them.

A pub wasn’t the most obvious choice for a safe place to spend the night, but it had only two entrances: Dante and Diana blocked the back door with chairs and tables, making sure no demon could enter. They left the front door unblocked, though – if they needed to escape, that was the route.

Dante knew a handful of demons who could teleport through the barricade, so an escape route was a must.

Diana sat by one of the last chairs on the bar, the scythe resting by her side, close enough to be grabbed in an emergency. Dante stood by one of the blood sprinkled windows right at the other side of the pub, checking if the streets were safe.

But he also checked on her. Diana’s wound was worse than he initially thought, and Dante was suspecting there was some sort of poison that wasn’t allowing her to heal. It kept bleeding and that was a huge problem – not only because it could attract demons, but it was unsafe for a human to bleed so much.

“Hey, Diana. Let me take a look at that.” He decided to approach her, which seemed to startle her. Diana was too lost in thoughts to remember she was there with someone else.

“It’s ok. I’m fine.” She answered briefly, but shied away from him as soon as Dante was close enough to touch her.

That annoying tug on his heart stroke again. What the hell did people do to her to make that woman so avoidant?

He understood Vergil – he really did. Neither Dante or his brother had an easy life and even though Vergil did some stupid ass things in pursuit of power, Dante knew where it came from. He knew why Vergil was so avoidant and so closed up, deeming his feelings as a weakness – Dante could never really judge him.

Yes, Vergil was a pain in the ass to deal with, but he could understand wanting to become full demon and leave all his humanity behind. For his brother to get like that, though, it took a lot. Dante’s heart always got hurt seeing another human with those traits, because it usually stemmed from a great pain.

He had always been the soft-hearted twin.

“Ei, I know a thing or two about first aid.” He sat on what was left of the seat by her side, leaning most of his weight on the bar. Dante didn’t want her to get even more uncomfortable – reaching out was a matter of patience. “But I do know a lot more on demonic wounds. Scythe through the chest, remember?”

Diana let a little smile color her lips, making Dante smile back – a little proud on breaking through that thick coat of ice, even if it was just a little bit.

“That thing isn’t healing, right? We’ll have to patch it up somehow until we find someone who can properly take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.” Diana’s response was almost automatic – she even stopped talking as soon as she noticed the words coming out of her mouth. Luckily, Dante brushed it off and didn’t tease her as she expected he would do.

“Oh, I know that. You faced head on a bunch of demons with a metal stick as a weapon.” It was a compliment, and she wasn’t expecting that. Dante took Diana completely by surprise and disarmed her so easily. She didn’t even know what to do with herself. “Say what. I’m gonna find whatever bottle's left on this joint and pour us a drink. Whenever you get uncomfortable, we stop to have a sip and chat. How do you feel about that?”

Diana still shied away when Dante leaned a little towards her but he took her answer as a good omen.

“If you can find a surviving drink in this place, fine.”

*

“You have to be quite strong to be able to take a stab through your heart and keep on going.” Diana barely moved as Dante saw what he could do on her thigh.

It was way worse than he was used to see in humans. Diana mentioned a Monk at the Cathedral who could help, but he didn’t want to break the news that it was probably going to take a lot more work than just patching her up. There was something more at work there – Dante couldn’t make out if it was a poison, a jinx, a hex, or whatever else those demons had in their bodies. He just knew she was at a great risk.

But Dante also didn’t want to admit that to himself. He decided to stay in denial and tell himself “everything is gonna be alright”. He probably was being too overdramatic, too much of a doomsday person. Or at least that’s what he wanted to think.

He wasn’t going to lose her. He wasn’t able to save his brother and bring Vergil back to a normal, functioning life where he didn’t have to know only suffering and harshness – but he could do that to Diana. He could save her. He had to.

“Eh, it’s part of the job.” Dante brushed it off, already used to it. He lost count of how many times he was impaled by blades.

Dante immediately stopped what he was doing, though, when Diana took her glass from the table to take a sip of whisky. He leaned back, taking his own broken glass between his long fingers covered by black leather gloves.

“Everything ok?”

“Hmmm.” She just nodded back, taking another sip of alcohol. Dante waited, knowing she’d say something else. At least that’s how it was with Vergil. “I’m not used to that much… Touching.”

“It’s ok. You’re doing fine.” Dante’s lips searched for the part of the glass that wasn’t broken for another sip of whisky, looking aloof to allow Diana to smile briefly. She tended to smile when he wasn’t looking, even if it was a shadow of a proper smile. “We have the whole night.”

And in those sky-blue eyes, she found nothing but honesty. Dante wasn’t human, Diana knew that. But his heart was an open book in his eyes – there was something in there. A kind of pure honesty mixed with loneliness. A longing for kindness in return.

Dante waited patiently until Diana said it was ok for him to work on her wound again. He had a few first aid things resting on the bar that could help – the most he could find on that hopeless place. She didn’t touch her glass for quite a while.

“Scythe through the chest, just like the song…” She muttered to herself, drawing his attention. “Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame…”

“Darlin’, you give love a bad name.”

As soon as Dante sang back to her, Diana smiled. The very first honest smile that lit up her face, making Dante smile back. They were making progress.

*

“You seem to know my brother well even though you spent years apart.”

Vergil walked gracefully by Diana’s side. Enveloped by the darkness of the night, both moved silently like specters, making almost no noise. They didn’t want to draw the attention of demons during a rescue mission – they could investigate further when people were safe and the whole crew got back together.

“Dante did help me when I had no one else. He isn’t that easy to forget.”

“That you are right.” Vergil’s tone was annoyed, making her smile. “His foolishness is remarkable.”

Diana didn’t want to laugh out loud, but she did – making Vergil raise an eyebrow towards her. He wasn’t used to people laughing of the things he said… Well. People other than his brother. Dante seemed to be the only one who thought Vergil’s dry humor was funny. Having another person outside his family be so… Welcoming to him was surely different.

“It is, but it always puts a smile on our faces, right?” Diana agreed with a sigh, contemplating the bright moon high in the velvet blue sky. “He can always make me smile.”

Vergil wasn’t expecting that remark – but she was right. In all his foolishness, Dante made him smile even when Vergil didn’t want to. The Dark Slayer lost count of how many times they ended up laughing when Dante started to follow him around during an argument to “hug it out” while Vergil literally ran away around the shop’s table.

It was very angry laughing between both, but it always worked like a charm to make them less angry and stop screaming at each other.

“Hmmm.” And Diana furrowed her brows when she noticed Vergil had the same mania she had to hum while thinking. She wondered if Dante also noticed that years ago. “You’re also right about that.”

“Does he follow you around for a hug when you’re avoiding all human contact as well…?”

“…And you keep pushing him away, but that idiot is worse than a hungry koala?” Vergil completed her question, making Diana start laughing immediately.

And even though he didn’t want to, Vergil ended up laughing as well.

[pyraffin-drgo]

All Heavy interactions in Poker Night at the Inventory.

For you to interpret however you wish.

Video Version

(They have [bootleg movies] in your country?) "I like movies, yes." (Yeah, like what? [Lists movies]?) "No. My favorite are The Dirty Dozen and the first twenty minutes of Rocky four."

(We can talk Tetris?) "Hmmph. Tetris is baby game." (Tetris Attack keeps it hood!) "Why does everybody think I love this Tetris? It is just stacking!"

"[To Strongbad] Tiny Heavy." (What is it?) "Do you get the nightmares?" (I get the jibblie nightmares. [Describes silly nightmare, shivers].) "I am talking about the visions of endless suffering. Dead doctors everywhere. Spy can not be found. (No, but that sounds like the Jibblies.) "I do not like these 'jibblies.'"

"Strong and bad. How is boxing career?" (These. Are. My. HANDS!) "I was boxer, once. In school. We have to either box or learn to herd goats." Silence, looking concerned. "I am not good with goats..." (Too much information, man.) "At first, I do not like punching other boys... But then I learn to love it." Punches his palm menacingly.

(Find any rare drops lately?) "I do not understand." (When you get a kill, you get a present?) "When I get kill, I get honor of team." Smile drops. "Sometimes... I also get nightmares. A man does not go home to his wife and children." (So, no loot?) "Oh! You mean hat! Yes, I love hats! Sometimes, I get these. They are the best."

(Hey, Heavy. You know any hot Russian spies?) "I hate spies." (But you gotta have the inside line on some deadly minxes.) "You want hot spy?" (Am I not wrestle man?) "I have friend who gets you a hot spy. (Get em on the two-way, man!) "His name is Pyro." (Tycho, to Strongbad: The spy is hot because it is on fire.) (Oh...)

"[To Tycho] What do you do with life?" (Me?) "Yes. What is possible with tiny, frail body?" (I occupy myself with simulations... of various kinds.) "What is these?" (Struggles to explain.) (Strongbad: He lives in his parent's basement.)

(So, is there a Mrs. Weapons Guy?) "No. Sasha is my only love." (Sasha kills people, I presume?) "No." (Oh?) "WE kill people."

"[To Strongbad] Maybe you and I box?" (I can't risk my beautiful face, it's the franchise.) "We spar. For fun." (I don't think so.)

"Strong and bad. You wrestle? With mask?" (No, I'm a wrestle man, not those hack wrestle-LERS.) "Not like Iron Sheik?" (No, Iron Stake is a LER.) Heavy nods. "Hmm. This is too bad."

(So how long you been with those Team Fortress fellas?) "I do not understand." (The game's been on Steam for like 3 years. I imagine there was some audition process?) "Ohhh! Yes, I understand! I kill many men VERY quickly." (Excuse me?) "I kill record number of soldiers, and I am commissioned to join RED team."

(Mr. Weapons. I am in the market for a new firearm. [Specifications].) "Hmm, for you I do not recommend minigun then. You know, there is this fast baby man that annoys me greatly with shotgun." (Oh! Oh! What are the available options? I'll spring for leather!) "Da, this is good for you. I suggest Force-A-Nature." (I'll tell them [shop owner] Heavy Weapons Guy sent me.) "It is no need. I know guy."

"I will make hat from you, little bunny." No reply from anyone. A reference for the player to the Max hat in TF2.

"You look familiar, bunny." (How closely do you follow the Manhattan Crime Blotter?) Also a reference to the hat, Tycho then takes over conversation.

(If I need someone snuffed out, what's your going rate?) "Five hundred thousand U.S. dollars." (Steep.) "Cash." (You can do it discreetly?) "Sasha... not so discreet." (That's fine.)

(How did you guys hear of the inventory?) "My engineering friend brought me one night."

(This reminds me of the time Artie Flopshark rigged an entire poker tournament to pay off his loan shark.) "I know of this. This is respectable profession in motherland." Conversation is stolen by Tycho.

(This reminds me of [story]!) "I am reminded of time Engineer kill my entire team." (Damn Heavy, that's... heavy. Sorry to hear that.) "I search entire base for him. He tries to kill me with turret and mini turret, but I crush his toys like they are made of paper." (Sounds like crappy toys.) "Then I find him. Hiding by teleporter. I take his gun away from him. He tries to hit me with wrench! Hahohoh! So I take wrench away from him. I take his wrench and shove it down his throat, all the way down to the handle." (Christ!) Heavy laughs. "Then I rip off all his fingers one by one!" He talks while laughing. "Lets see you build toys now!" He breaks out in laughter. "There's blood- everywhere! And- he's crying!" More laughter. "I think he cries out for mother, but- but-" Crumples over laughing. "The wrench is stuck in his throat! And it sounds like-" Makes choking motions and noises then laughs. "Is this not the funniest thing??" (Horrified looks) (Head shakes slowly.) (That's some bleeped up bleep, man!)

(How about you, Heavy weapons? I'm guessing you're a vodka guy?) "Peach Bellini. But bubbles can give me headache."

(Mr. Weapons, how do you like your line of work?) "It is good. There are many benefits." (Oh! Like a free pass to snuff out bad guys or a waffle bar?) "Both. And full dental."

(I wonder if this dump is haunted.) (I hope so! Roughing up who can't die is fun!) "...I do not like ghosts..." (It's okay, Mr. Weapons. I have [extensive experience]. I can handle a few ghosts.) "...You will take care of ghosts for me?" (You bet cha!) Heavy nods at him. "I like you, tiny rabbit."

[Story including a union] "I am union. RED local six fifteen." (You guys unionized?) "Eh. It was necessity for group medical."

"Tycho. This sweater, is special equipment?" (No, standard issue.) "You have no class specific head gear?" (Got a motorcycle helmet that protects from 100% of UV rays.) "This sounds beneficial."

(Why do you keep calling me 'Tiny Heavy'?) "You are Heavy. Tiny. No? You are RED team. You have killing gloves of boxing. You earn these for being great killer! You should try out for RED team." (Hmm. Guess I could join your team of ruthless killers and lame hat wearers and watch you get grenaded by 8 year olds.) "You will take many bullets before dying I think."

(Hey, Heavy. I just finished [Russian fantasy book]. Ever read it?) "No." (Oh. What's your favorite book?) "I prefer war." (Ah, War and Peace. Tasteful.) "No. Just war." (Art of War?) "Nyet." Silence. "I like 'Tsar Hunger' by Leonid Andreyev. You know this?" (...No.) "Is classic."

"You have hands like young girl." (I keep them shits moist.) "...So you are more of sneaky, stabbing type?" (In an extreme circumstance, I guess.) Heavy looks at him suspiciously. "I keep my eyes on you." (No, no no- I wasn't implying that-) Heavy looking at him angierly. (Shit.)

(Ever listen to music while you work?) "Yes! I just buy new walkman." (What gets you in the killing mood? Icelandic death metal?) "I just get Huey Lewis tape. Keeps spirits up on battle field."

"[To Tycho] You have woman?" (Not with me) "She is pretty?" (Yeah, cute, glasses, red hair.) "She has the red hair??" (No, Heavy! She is not on the other team! Don't have to kill her!) "No. But I love the red hair!" (Well, you can't have her, either.) Re-used image of Heavy looking at him angrily. (Well, maybe we can work something out.)

(Hey, Heavyman. You think you can 'take care' of the King of Town for me?) "I can assassinate king, yes. It is expensive, though." (By take care of I meant sneak in and shave off half his mustache.) "I am not best at sneaking." (Confront him in a dark alley then?) "This is better. That way blood wash away in rain."

(You have any interest in moonlighting?) "WHAT? I am not moonlighter!" (Just a little work on the side with Sam and me beating up goons!) "Oh. I can not do this." (C'mon it's fun and free!) "No, I am sure it is." (Then what's the problem?) "I have non compete." (Ah, yeah. Lawyers.)

(All these aces reminds me of [weird dream]. You have any weird dreams, Mr. Weapons?) "I sometimes dream that I am killed. There is blood everywhere. (Tycho gives him a weird look) But then I wake up and I realize this is ridiculous! Nobody can kill Heavy weapons guy! (Riiiight...)

"[To his chips] This is good Solider. This one is good Doktor. You are demolition man."

"Saaaandvich, sandvich, I love you sandvich!" (Would you like someone to order you some food?)

"Blue man." (Tycho.) "Tycho. What college do you go to? You are educated, no?" (Actually, no.) "No?" (I studied at Gygax Polyhedral if you catch my drift.) "I do not. This is good school?" (Uh. The best.) "I went to Soviet College of Mines, Farms, and Science. I have PhD in Russian literature." (Do you.. use that in your work?) "More than you think."

"Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war?" (Those discount three-pack green helmets.) "To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type." (My favorite enemy? Like asking me to choose between my children!) Heavy laughs. "You crack me up, little bunny!"

(Hey, Hefty Bag, you ever play video games?) "Just one." (Oh yeah?) "It is called-" (Tycho: WoW?) "Nyet. That is not popular. It is called 'Where's an Egg'." (Strongbad: I love Where's an Egg!) "Where's an Egg is as big as Tetris in homeland."

(Concerning your firearm, whay caliber we talking?) "Big." (What, we talking 300 Weatherby Mag here?) "Bigger." (50 cal, whereabouts?) "Bigger than 50 caliber. They are hand made custom tool cartridges with classified diameter." (Why's that?) "So enemy canmot use ammunition. But Sasha can chew through theirs." (Diabolical!) "I think so." Nods.

(Alright, big pretend killer man. Tell me the most awesome story you have with plenty of senseless violence!) Heavy thinks. "When I was boy, I was at camp, being trained in many ways of combat." (Assassination camp for kids! This is gonna be good!) "There was sparrow sitting on fence. Snow falls quietly around me. Without notice, another boy jumps from behind tree and kills sparrow with throwing knife. The boy runs away." (And then??) "I pick up sparrow, and hear his last breath before digging him tiny grave..." (Tycho crying) (Max silent) (That's not even a little bit funny, man.) Heavy shakes his head solemnly. "No..." Sits back. "It's not."

(So, what do you do for fun?) "Clean Sasha. Use Sasha... Clean Sasha again." (Proper maintience is crucial.) "I also collect old coins." (A fellow numismatist!) "Which I melt down to make custom bullets." (Of course.)

"I am hungry for sandvich." (Then order a sandvich, man.) "Oh, I can not have sandvich! I become unstoppable killing machine!" (Yeah, maybe order a water.) "Is best."

"You wear blue sweater." (All the time.) "What are you?" (Haven't we went over this?) "You are not Scout. Maybe very tricky blue Spy? Maybe... new class?" (I can use a keyboard to sabotage your entire team, steal your intelligence, and have your sister delivered to my doorstep in one afternoon. Yes, I'm a new class.) Heavy, shocked, "This is true??"

(Hey, Heavyman, what's your living situ-aysh?) "I live in RED barraks. Is nice. There is foos table." (How about taking a room in the house of Strong?) "There is vacancy?" (First you'll have to dump the current person in your room.) "This is enemy?" (He won't put up much of a fight.)

Hope you enjoyed, spent most of the day copying all these down. The non-Heavy lines are paraphrased for shortness. Heavy's are full, how they are in game.

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 108

Peter whirled to face the speaker. The girl, Angel, stood on the side of the building, wind rustling through the feathers on her wings as she looked at him with curiosity. “How?” he asked, first question to run through his head.

She shrugged. “I have super hearing,” she explained, “and I’m always—attuned? Is that the right word?—to the sound of your voice. And Wade’s voice,” she added.

“Ah.” Peter fidgeted. He both wanted to ask for her help and scream at her to go home. She was way too young for this hero business—but then, he had been too. “Did you figure out what laid eggs in the sewers?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Nah. They’re just going to hatch. I don’t think they’re a threat—well, not to anything other than sewer rats.”

Peter shuddered. He knew way too much about the city’s sewer rats. “Have you seen Wade?” he asked.

“Not today,” Angel answered breezily. She tilted her head to the side, watching him through narrowed eyes. “Why?”

Peter explained what his aunt had done. “And now I need to find him,” he said.

Angel nodded. “This is going to sound strange,” she said cautiously, “but why do you need to find him so badly? He thinks you went out for eggs, right?”

“Right,” said Peter thoughtfully.

“Right.” Angel’s wings flipped lazily for a moment as she considered. She looked back at Peter. “What’s the nearest store that sells both eggs and poblano peppers?” she asked.

Peter blinked. “What?” he asked.

“Wade’s favorite food is Mexican,” Angel explained. Peter nodded; he knew that. “Poblano peppers are one of the most commonly used ingredients in Mexican food. I don’t think he even sees stores that don’t sell them.”

That made a lot of sense, actually. He didn’t want to think too hard about why Angel knew that, but it made sense. “Timon’s,” he said firmly before swinging away. He heard the thundering of wings behind him as she shot through the air following him.

Timon was a second-generation immigrant whose family had, quite literally, built the store from scratch—using debris from buildings around the area because aliens invading New Amsterdam was not a new phenomenon. The store was small. The store was sturdily built. And Timon had contacts that got him the freshest everything and everybody loved his store.

Timon also knew Peter. Back when he was a kid, every time he went into the store the man would give him a cookie filled with pineapple. When Peter became Spiderman, he’d stopped several huge pieces of debris from falling on the cherished store. He liked to think the man would understand what Peter was about to ask him, but he wasn’t sure.

Peter ducked into the small store and the bell above the door rang to announce his presence. “Coming!” Timon’s heavily accented voice called. (The man could speak with the same accent any New Amsterdamer could, but chose to cultivate the accent.)

“Hey, Timon!” Peter said nervously, not sure of the reaction he was going to get.

Timon’s dark face lit up. “Spiderman!” he said, all traces of his foreign accent gone. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

Wow. That was—a surprisingly positive reaction. Encouraged Peter said, “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Huge, red, swords on his back?”

“Deadpool!” Timon said, just as excitedly. “Oh, he saved my baby girl last week!”

“Is she all right?” asked Peter, worried.

“Eh, nothing that won’t heal,” Timon said dismissively. “Much better than it could have been. He stopped by earlier—is your friend sick?” Not noticing the shock on Peter’s face (thank goodness for the mask) he continued, “He collapsed and someone had to help him on his way.”

Before Peter could say anything, Angel spoke up. “Do you have cameras?” she asked. “Could we see? If we know who helped him, we’ll know where to look.”

“Of course, of course,” Timon said. “Come with me!” he led them to the office in the back of the little store that the security equipment hooked up.

As Timon was pulling up the video Peter realized that Angel had never said that Wade wasn’t being helped. She’d never said that he was the kind of person who simply didn’t collapse. She’d left Timon with the impression that that they were looking for him because he was ill.

Angel, Peter was coming to realize, was scary.

Peter put his thoughts aside as he watched Wade bend down by a hunched figure on the sidewalk. Watched as something happened to Wade and he began to collapse. Watched as suspiciously familiar multi-jointed metal arms sprang from the figure’s back to wrap up Wade and carry him like a small child.

No. It couldn't be.

But it was. He’d recognize those arms anywhere; he’d helped Dr. Octavius with the algorithms to make them work. And they’d been used to kidnap his boyfriend.

“Thanks, Timon,” Angel said. “We know where to go now.”

“Ah, no problem,” Timon said. “We gotta stick together, eh? I hope your buddy feels better soon.”

“He will,” Angel promised as she gently guided a stunned Peter out of the store.

Dr. Octavius had kidnapped Wade. That meant that Oscorp wanted him for—something. Peter wasn’t aware of any projects the company was working on that would require kidnapping Deadpool. Then again, Peter wasn’t privy to all aspects of the company; there were several bits that were under the direct supervision of Norman. Which meant—kidnapping Wade was a Norman level decision.

He was going to have to hack into the company’s system and find out why. He didn’t want to; he was terrified of what would happen if Norman figured out he did it; but he had to know why and where Wade was taken. He pulled out his phone and made a quick call.

“How can I help you, Mr. Parker?”

As usual, the AI’s voice made Peter grin. “Hey, you remember how you said that you were still looking for a way into the Oscorp mainframe? There’s about to be a breach.”

A moment of silence on the other end of the call. “Mr. Parker, I do not want you to commit a crime for this,” JARVIS told him firmly.

“They took Wade,” Peter said flatly.

Another moment of silence.

“Sir has several new, untraceable rockets in his arsenal. Would you like me to bomb them to the ground?”

Angel’s face turned bright red and she collapsed to the ground, shaking. Peter had the odd idea she was trying not to interrupt his call. “I, uh, don’t actually think there’s a need for that,” Peter hedged.

“Not to worry, Mr. Parker,” JARVIS drawled cheerfully. “I will endeavor to ensure there are no warm bodies in the building first.” Click.

Angel burst out laughing, tears streaming down her face. “I love him!” she squeaked.

Peter gave a weak smile. “Are you busy?” he asked. “Can you help?”

“Hmm. Well, the street children are holed up in their safe place deciding their future and the army gathering under the streets won’t be ready to try and take over New Amsterdam for at least two more days—so, yeah. I can help.”

Peter stared at her for a moment. “Shouldn’t you be trying to do something about that army?” he asked, curiously.

“You would think, but no. Trust me,” Angel said completely serious, “the best way to minimize loss of life here is to let the army commit itself and then chop off the head. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“Of course,” Peter echoed weakly. He’d have to assume she knew what she was talking about; he needed to rescue Wade. “Let’s go,” he said.

[blooddrop-palace]

DMC-OC-Week Day 4

(No images this time. I ran out!)

Seraphina Valkyrie

Something she likes:

“There’s so much I couldn’t believe I missed during my twenty-something years being lost in Hell. It’s strange to think that during that time, Vergil was also suffering in a similar way… often not himself, broken, desperate, and searching. Since coming back, I’ve had so much worry on my mind. On the first opportunity back in Fortuna where I could afford a little peace, I didn’t know how I was going to go forward with either Nero or Vergil. But then Kyrie, blessed little Kyrie who was barely a year old last I had seen her, made her mother’s tiramisu recipe for us all. 

“It was one of my favorite desserts back when her parents invited me over for dinner. And I had shared some of this dessert with Vergil once before. To know that Nero also has a fondness for it, especially since it’s from Kyrie, makes me feel that everything is going to be okay. We will have more shared experiences to bridge off of this. Maybe I wouldn’t have to choose between Nero’s comfort or Vergil’s feelings. Maybe I’ll be able to have them both in my life, and bring them closer, too. We won’t make the most fairytale of families, and that’s okay. I simply wish to give them the love that they deserve.”

Something she dislikes:

“There’s no one singular way to describe this dislike of mine… but perhaps it’s simple to say that I loathe injustice. The problem with justice, however, is that it can often be a personal view. 

“But I’ve suffered injustice. Nero has suffered similar injustice. Vergil, too, has suffered injustice. Would I be able to flay Sanctus alive, or to also go up against Mundus, I would not hesitate. People who will make others suffer just to make themselves feel better or bigger are a blight upon mankind. I have no sympathy for the fool that scorns love and promotes pain. And I am not above spilling the blood of villains.”

Kassandra King

Something she likes: 

“It’s a bit cheap for me to say this, since this is somewhat of a family trait ingrained into our bloodline, but I like children. We all eventually become parental. 

“That said, it’s one of the reasons why there are usually a lot of children in this family. We thrive as a family and as our own little community. And children are an absolute blessing, even when they are at their worst. To care for them and teach them how to become their own individual person is something that satisfies the Hive blood within us, because family is everything.”

Something she dislikes:

“This might sound odd from someone like me, who knows how to seduce and works at a strip club for fun… but when it comes down to more than that, I don’t do well with the whole ‘no strings attached’ thing. 

“I feel guilty every time. I guess I just… crave a meaningful connection.”

Arabella

Something she likes:

“Oh, I’ve always liked peace and quiet… but I don’t think that’s the question here. I suppose I could count seafood as something I like. Does it provide much sustenance for a devil like me? Not as much as blood and red orbs. But seafood and the way humans might prepare it is not something we have in Hell. Fortuna being an island city was a good thing for me, even centuries after Sparda had left. I would mingle among the populace like a wraith, working part time here and there to earn the money just to enjoy human food and even check out what new establishments are built over time. The simple joys were like lovely little dreams… and devils seldom dream for enjoyment.”

Something she dislikes:

“The greatest dislike I have is when others take from me without my permission. I am, after all, very territorial and possessive. I can tolerate the human concept of borrowing, but in the end I am still a devil. Still, there is much I have learnt from humans. I can tolerate a little trespassing here and there while I’m in the human world. I would rather my children be able to live happily here, than to struggle for their survival in the Underworld.”

Snow

Something she likes:

“Oh there are a lot of things I like! Alfredo pasta, stuffed crust pizza, peach cobblers with French vanilla ice cream… okay, those are all pretty boring answers. Here’s something I really like and I’m really good at: music rhythm games. DDR, Band Hero, or any other number of music arcade games? I will high score and perfect-combo all of them! My name is on top of the charts for all of the local arcades, and yes, I’m proud of myself. Devil Hunter’s gotta have some fun, after all!”

Something she dislikes:

“Look. When I first brought this up, a number of people found this amusing and laughable… specifically the people from the, uh, Devil May Cry side of things. 

“But olives suck, okay? And you know what I don’t understand? How is olive oil so amazing, but olives suck so hard? Olive oil is this lovely soft but fragrant taste but the stupid olive itself has a flavor that stings my senses!

“I think dad has the right idea. Olives can go to hell.”

Noel

Something she likes:

“Something I like? Uh…I like pasta, I guess?

“I should give more specific or in-depth examples? I don’t know… I try not to want too much. I guess I like fruits. Strawberries are good. I mean… okay so I guess I like sweets?

“This is tough. I don’t think too much about what I like. If I think too much about what makes me feel good right now, all that comes to mind is the… the rush from fighting demons. 

“And I don’t like that. I don’t want to relish it. It feels… wrong.”

Something she dislikes:

“I don’t want to be alone. Don’t like not belonging. I guess that’s about it. There’s too much that I could really dig in about, but I have so little left that I can’t be worrying about what I dislike. I need to grasp what I do like and never let go. That’s what I need to do.”

Anthony and Caesar:

Something Tony likes: 

“Eh? Sure. Plenty. I like pizza. But who doesn’t like pizza? I like rock and punk and metal and grunge. Nothing wrong with that, right? Alright I like to jam, too. I like to wrestle with dad… could add Uncle V to the list, too. Caesar doesn’t like to do a lot of fighting and stuff, but I hope he’ll like the idea of maybe us two challenging Dad and Uncle V to a fight at some point. I also like video games. Caesar also studies all that fancy programming stuff so I get to playtest. It’s pretty great.”

Something Caesar likes: 

“You’d be surprised to know that I’m only lukewarm about books. Literature isn’t really my thing. Technology is a more fascinating avenue for me. There’s a lot of potential and a lot to look forward to in the future for the advancement of technology. I do a bit of hacking work but it’s not really my main thing. Still, if I don’t keep an eye on the security around the house, we’d have problems other than demons in our house. What, fighting? I don’t hate it. But I guess the difference between me and my older twin is that he’s the sporty one and I’m the more academic one. Don’t treat me like a pushover, though. I’m far from it. If Tony needs me at his back, I’m there, and I’m no slouch.”

Something Tony dislikes:

“Fuck olives. And also fuck any demon critter that is too fast for my axe. But I guess that’s why I deal with the heavyweights and Caesar can deal with the critters.”

Something Caesar dislikes:

“I tend to dislike…lack of effort. What I mean is… if something is preventable, why not make sure to take care of it? Inefficiency just takes away from the long run. Hefty things with too much excess weighing it down… both literally and metaphorically, I’m not fond of it. But I suppose that’s why I handle the details and the intricate problems, and I can always trust Tony to handle the clunkier things.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

PLAY SMART

Che “Taza” Romero x Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: Another crazy idea. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @arveeee ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Adjusting the green shirt to your chest, you go out of the clubhouse followed by Creeper drinking a coffee on a cardboard cup. You’re walking faster with your gaze on the front, directly to the car scrapping. It supposed that you should start in one hour, but if you arrive earlier, you can also leave earlier. You don’t want to see Taza after what happened last day, when his ex-wife came to the workshop because her car was having problems with the engine. She talked you as if you were a servant, or something like that, so you couldn't shut up and spoke to her in a sarcastic tone that she didn't like. Of course, she told Taza. At first, you didn’t care, until you saw how they said goodbye, with so much love and affection. Gilly told you that they have been married for almost fifteen years and that she was back to town indefinitely. It was like a shoot straight to your heart.

You aren’t nothing, but for the last months there has been a flirt environment installed between both, always pulling and loosening. But with his ex-wife in Santo Padre and by the way she had of touching him constantly, you know that what you wanted so bad it’s not going to happen. So you’re trying to not match with him. And that hurts. The only thing you can do it’s work and go home. No Mayans parties, no more nights at the clubhouse and no more rides back home on Taza’s bike. You can’t fight with a woman who knows him since ever and who was married with him for too many years. You didn’t know that something like that could happen, he didn’t talk you about her and it seems like it was a surprise for him too.

“Dammit, mama, you look like shet’”. Angel’s confused voice pushes you back to reality, making you shake your head for an instant.

“I didn’t sleep last night”. You shrug your shoulders and arms.

Messed bump, eye bags, no makeup and the shoelaces untied. You sigh after having a look of yourself, leaning down to tie them. The sun seems to disappear, raising your gaze surprised till you find your boss’ eyes, crossing his arms over his chest covered by leather. You swallow quietly, licking your inner lip before continuing with your task. 

“Everything ok?” You ask playing fool, hiding your nervous voice for a while.

“I don’ know, everything ok?”

“Yea’, I just… start earlier ‘cause I need to go to Santa Madre”.

“Sure. Why you didn’t come to the ranch last night?”

“Last night? What hap— Oh! Oh!”

Taza raises both eyebrows, while you still playing the innocent one palming your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot the Mayan dinner...” Clicking your tongue, you snort heavy.

“Let me tell you something, (Y/N)”. Facing you with hardly two inches between both, he leans above your ear provoking you some chills. “Soy un perro muy viejo, para que un cachorro me intente engañar”. (I'm a very old dog, and a puppy can't lie to me”.

“I forgot it”. You insist. “I was tired and I fell asleep on the sofa”.

“Look at your face”. The man says without changing his position. “Not everything is what it seems”.

“Ok, boss. I get it”. 

Taza doesn't say anything else, hitting his shoulder against yours to pass you away. Rubbing it you turn to the oldest rolling your eyes. Creeper and Angel are staring at you, trying to understand what is happening, but you don't wanna talk about it. Work and go home, that's all you want. The Reyes, putting an arm on your shoulders, shake his head disappointed 'cause he's starting to know what's going on having all the clues on the table.

Going upstairs to the office, you hug Chuckie as soon as you see him, asking for the hours signature quadrant. Your turn is already finished and completed and you also have the afternoon free, so you could rest the time you didn't last night thinking about the things that it's not going to happen, driving you crazy. Leaving the car scrapping' shirt in your hanger, you grab the helmet next to your bag, ready to leave. 

And she's there again. You can see her from the top of the stairs, hugging your boss and kissing his cheek as you used to do it. You're going downstairs slow, concentrated on not looking like you're jealous. Yes, you two were nothing, but you feel some kind of things that you would like not to feel right now. Taking off your phone of the pocket, you dissemble when he catches you looking at them, walking towards your motorbike to put the helmet on. 

“Wait a second”. You hear some meters away, while your sitting on your bike. “Eh, (Y/N)!”

You want to make that you didn't listen his call, but it would be too evident, so Taza waits for you to reversing and stop again. 

“I'm sorry for the hit”.

“Yeah, it was rude”.

“Are you hurry?”

“Yeah, a little”.

“When will you back at home, ah?”

“I don't kn... Why it feels like I'm talking to my father?”

“Because you're so fuckin' annoyin'”.

“Great, thanks. Another bullshit, Taza?”

“You know what? Fuck off”.

“Yeah, pretty one”. Rolling your eyes, containing the tears in them, you turn the engine to run away from the front yard.

Bishop texted you about four pm to tell you that Yuma and Stockton charters were coming to Santo Padre by night, so they're having a party and he needs you along with EZ to attend the bar. That's precisely what you were avoiding to do, be at the clubhouse more time than necessary. But guessing that you should work just for two or three hours accompanied doesn't seems a big trouble to deal with. So you're in.

Driving you car, 'cause it's gonna be easy to come back home after the party, you reach the car scrapping parking there so your Camaro will be safe in case that anyone decided to start a friendly fight. They usually do, for no reason. Last time, your motorbike suffered the consequences, even if they took care of the fixed. Walking betwixt a lot of crap mountains, your steps go straight to the green main door with mayans symbols finding the crowded yard. Stockton are already there, mixed with the Santo Padre' ones. EZ whistles you, claiming for your attention with that charming smile he always have on his face. You greet the guys raising your chin for a second, whilst going close to the prospect.

“Take the Jose Cuervo in the warehouse, I'm on my way for beers”.

“Okay”. You nod then, turning to the right and guiding your legs to the huge metallic structure by a side of the clubhouse. 

Grabbing the trolley at the entrance, you walk towards the end of the warehouse to leave it there, so you can place five boxes on it. Bishop calls to the door, even if it's opened asking you for come in without words. He walks in, closing it and resting his body against a shelving.

“You ok, kid?”

“Yea', just a bad night, prez”. You nod showing a soft and fleeting smile, presing the low rod of the trolley leaning to you and putting im by the two wheels.

“You didn' came to the dinner”.

“I'm sorry, I forgot it”.

“Did you?”

Leaving a sigh on air, you don't know what to say, pursing your lips as you place your gaze in nowhere.

“I saw you… kinda arguing with Taza this morning. Twice”.

“I—”.

“You know you can talk to me, rai'?” He sounds serious, crossing his arms.

“I just… made some illusions. The kind that fuck you down, when you realize that they're… just that. Illusions”.

“I know what you're talkin'bout. Play smart, kid. You're not stupid”.

Might be the best advice someone could give you, and you know you should. But sometimes, you can't simply do it. After leaving you there, you continue your walk to the clubhouse, going upstairs carefully with the tequila boxes. Opening the door with a push of your back, EZ notices you ready to help you. When everything is placed, the prospect offers you a shirt with the Mayans logo to change it for yours. Like somekind of uniform.

Once you're wearing it, you walk outside to receive the Yuma charter, hugging Canche as soon as he sees you.

“What's up, chamaca?”

“Not much, just another party working, not enjoying”.

“When you finish, make a place fo' me in your busy schedule. I need some help with my bike”. He says placing a hand on your shoulders, so you can follow him to his men to greet them too.

“Sure! I'll let you know when I'm done”.

A car coming calls your attention, turning under Canche's grip, to find the owner.

“What the hell…? Isn't that Taza's ex-wife?”

“Yep”.

“What she doin'ere?” The president asks you confused.

“Don' know. Ask her ex-husband”. You answer with a singing voice and both eyebrows raised.

“That bitch fucked him up”.

“Did she…?”

“Yea', I heard something 'bout a one-night-stand with a Vato. Oscar told us”.

“But they seems so close”.

“Taza is a good man, you know him”.

“Yea'...”

Pursing your lips at the man, you shrugs before start with your tasks of serve beers and tequila shot for everyone there, with EZ help. You can't help but thinking about that woman who came from nowhere with some kind of clear intentions, and now you're understanding was what Bishop trying to tell you. “Play smart”. So you will. Grabbing the coldest beers and putting them on a tray, you carry them to the first picnic table outside, where the main members of your charter are sitting. Leaving there, one for each one, you sit close to the Padrino who puts an arm around your waist.

“You look good in that shirt, kid”. He says proud, having a look from top to down. Since you started to work there, he has been the most gentle man on earth with you and it's something to be thankful for. “How's your week goin'? Didn' see you last night”.

“Tired week, need to rest, padrino”.

“You look like. Are they treating you good, or taking advantage that you're so helpful, ah?”

“To be that ‘helpful’ you have to show some respect first”. You hear that irritating feminine voice behind your back, before she appears in front of your eyes with a hand on Taza's left shoulder.

“Take off that Vato's dick of your mouth, before talking about my kid”. Padrino's voice is calm and peaceful, surprising you about it, and creating an uncomfortable silence on the table. 

You're fucking done. Done in a good mood, 'cause well, no one piss off padrino's kid. Palming his back, you get up of your seat to grab the tray and go back to work, as soon as Oscar claims your attention to ask for some beers. At least, now you know what happened, even if you're trying to figure what's she doing here. Not for you, but for Taza. Because she doesn't deserve someone like him, not after what she did. Double disloyalty. And that's screwing you more than you thought.

Even if it's something that it's in your head all the time, you make sure that doesn't influence in your work, letting it for later. And when you're already finished with it, leaving EZ with the rest, you go straight to Canche. As soon as you're done with him too, you can be close to Taza to make it up to him because of your paranoia. And so you do, sharing the same table with a beer in your hand. You don't know why his ex-wife continue there, but you don't care. Not anymore. Sitting in front of him, again by padrino's side and Bishop at the other, you try to get in the conversation. Easy task 'cause they're talking about a travel coming soon, and they need your help to check the motorcycles before leaving.

“Okay, I can do it tomorrow evening. Just leave me the keys at the office”. You say then supporting both forearms on the table, nodding for a while. “So, gas, oil and pressure… Yeah, it's fast to do'et”.

“Can you check my bike's direction? I think it's a little bit turned to the left”. Taza says then, and you know that's only a excuse to talk with you. Like, right now.

“Is it?” You hesitate, raising an eyebrow before having a sip of your drink, getting up of your bench.

“Yea', and the brake is a little hard. I think EZ squeezed too much”. He's getting up too, letting go the uncomfortable grip of his ex-wife.

“Okay, let's see”.

He walks next to you, offering you the keys so you can turn on his bike. Pressing softly the gas, to do the same with the brake. It's not. But seems like he wants to leave the yard, at least, for some minutes.

“I have the tools in my car”. You say then, turning of the engine to push the handlebar so you can make it moves. 

Going down the alley, with the Vicepresidente behind your back smoking a cigar, you reach the Camaro. You don't have any tools on it, but you really want to hear what he wants to tell you. So you simply leave the motorbike parked, next to your car, and resting your body sitting on it giving him the keys.

“She asked me to stay at the ranch”. He says then, keeping them inside one of his pockets. Sounds like you should reply something, but you'll not. It's his house, not yours. “I don' know what she doin'ere. But I don' even care”.

“Good for you, Taza”. You shrug with pursed lips.

“Let's be clear, kid. We're nothing”.

“Okay, I'm done with this bullshit”. You laugh loud getting up from his bike, and shaking your hands, trying to hide the bitterness and looking for the control remote of your car.

“Listen, listen”. Catching you by your left wrist, he stops your moves.

“It's fuckin' okay, Taza. You don' have to give me any explanation. I'm not your... fuckin' wife, nor your fuckin' girl. I get it. But let me tell you something. It's fucking grievous seeing a woman how fucked you up with a fuckin' Vato, trying to get back what she lost. And you, let her doin'et. You deserve good things, and you should love and respect yourself a little more”.

“Well, than'ya' for your kindly words. But I'm not letting her doin' nothen'. And I also talk her 'bout you”.

“Seems like she doesn' give a f— You did what?” Narrowing your eyes and letting you go, you cross your arms on the chest.

“We're nothing, but I would like to be something”. He clarifies you. “I asked her to leave and just came to pay what we fixed in her car. She stayed for a beer”.

“Yes, close of his ex-husband”.

“Focus on the fact I wan'to be with you, and not with her. Think about'e”.

Taza leaves you there, alone, carrying his bike when seems like you don't know what to reply at this words. Sitting on the hood of your car and lighting a cigar between your lips, you have a long smoke that rips your throat and also your tongue. You're somewhat jealous, you can't help but trying to see the point of playing smart to mark somekind of territory without looking like he's a piece of meat. But with that kind of women, it's all you can do. 

Putting well your shirt on, after throwing away the cigar, you walk towards the front yard with hands in your pockets. Some ideas are dancing in your head, trying to choose the best way to deal with it. But when you see her, sitting again by his side, and trying to hug him… Good lord, you can't help but losing your modals and your gentle mood. 

“Che, take me home”. You just say, stopping in front of the crew.

“Haven't you a car, ah?” She asks raising her chin somewhat proudly, grabbing the Vice's arm between hers.

“Haven't you a Vato's dick to suck, instead of annoying everyone around you?”

God, those words come from the depths of your soul. Making the guys chuckle as she gets up full of rage.

“Watch your mouth, niña. You don' know who I am”. Pointing your chest with a finger once and again.

“Yea', looks like I don' give a shit that I don' even know your name”. You face her, not afraid. “Southern border is close, come back to your hole, whore. You don' have anything to do here”.

“Did you ju—”.

“Shit, yes, I did”. You roll your eyes, being fast enough to avoid the slap straight to your face.

El padrino takes you back, as Bishop and Angel go to her before she can try it again.

“You heard her, go back to southern border”. Taza says placing himself between both, turning then to hold your forearm and leave the front yard.

You don't say anything into your way to his motorbike, putting on the helmet as he turns it on. Grabbing his waist with your hands, he runs out of the clubhouse. You know he's mad. You can feel the tension on his body, driving the road he knows by heart to your house, taking his time as he looks like he's thoughtful.

When he stations the bike in front of your house, so you can jump off of it, you keep his gaze.

“'You gonna leave?” You ask him a little bit nervous, taking off the helmet to supporting it against your abdomen.

“'Don' know. What you want?”

Hesitating for a second, you take a step closer placing a hand on his nape, to press your lips on his. It's the first time you two kiss, after some weeks wanting it. He pulls you away, thinking that you screwed it up, until you see him getting up to leave behind his back the motorbike. Cupping your cheeks on his huge hands, Taza kisses you again. Tangling your fingers in the flannel shirt to push him closer, your lips move alone on his. It's better than you could imagine, tasting the tequila in his saliva and beer in yours. A perfect mix. 

“So, are you gonna stay?” You almost beg between short and dearly kisses, finding yourself walking to your house, giving your back at it.

“Fuck, yes, baby”. He nods lifting you up, so you can surround his body with your legs.

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 31: Impeccable Timing

Previous chapters // Montserrat's masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing:  Rafael Barba x OFC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @averyhotchner [If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Once again, Montserrat and Rafael find themselves in the situation that has almost become a 'tale as old time' and this may be the last time Montserrat puts herself out there again. It's all in the timing.

Montserrat sat on a metal table with her brother on the opposite side. She felt terrible for bringing the bad news, even more bad news than what he already had. "I'm so sorry, Gael. I promise we're trying to figure it out-"

Gael reached for one of his sister's hands and gave her a small smile, the best he could do right now. "I know you are trying. You don't need to remind me. The bail money is excessively high. I don't want you or anyone else to waste it on me."

"We just need $5,000 more. I know we can raise it I just...I haven't figured out a way to do it," Montserrat shook her head. And it wasn't like she wasn't trying. For the past two days she'd been going over her own finances along with her father's and even Casey's but between the three there wasn't any more money they could gather. Each of them had already put up a substantial amount, including Damian's own offer...and it still wasn't enough.

"Montserrat, when's the last time you slept?" Gael's question confused Montserrat since it wasn't pertinent (in her opinion) to the situation.

"I-I don't know," shrugged the detective. "Who cares."

"I care," Gael said, and sharply too. "Because you're spreading yourself too thin. What about your job? Have you gone back already?"

"I'm on an indefinite leave," Montserrat said casually.

"Montserrat-"

"-I'm just meeting with Calhoun to know your situation and I'm working to get some more evidence with Damian, alright? I can sleep when you're out of jail and free of any accusations."

"Montserrat," Gael gripped Montserrat's hand, urging her to stop and listen to him even if it was for just a moment, "I really appreciate everything you're doing for me. I know you hate Calhoun-"

"-eh, it's more of a frenemy thing," Montserrat cut in but Gael went on before she could discard everything else he wanted to say.

"But you're paying her big bucks to solve my case. And then you're taking care of my girls and God knows that's not an easy job."

"Yeah, I never knew putting a four year old to sleep involved...so many things," Montserrat wanted to yawn just thinking about all the tricks she had to pull so Ivana would fall asleep. "But it's okay, because you're my brother and I know these accusations are false."

"Are they?"

Montserrat blinked at her brother. Why was he looking so serious?

"I've seen the pictures, okay? I know everything that happened and...I can't help wonder...what if it is my fault those people got hurt?"

"Shh!" Montserrat quickly went. This was a tactic she would normally love if she hated the perp but this was her brother and he was innocent. "Shut up! Anything you say here can be used against you!"

"I'm only thinking-"

"-no!" she snapped. "You know for a fact you did everything by the book. You did all the evaluations, followed every code. You know that."

"So then why did people get hurt?"

Montserrat shifted in her seat. It pained her to know that they still didn't have an answer. It was an outright mystery why that building collapsed. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out. In the meantime, just stay put and...be a bit patient with me. I'm gonna get that money to get you out of here."

"Thanks," Gael sighed. "Before you go...can I ask how my girls are doing?"

Montserrat smiled. "Ivana is fine. The thing about being 4 is that she is in an endless blissful bubble. She thinks you're just away."

"Thank you...and Juliana?" Gael shared a meaningful look with his sister. Teenagehood was already hell; he was sure he was only making it worse for his daughter right now.

"She's….uh...taking it hard," Montserrat swallowed hard. It was a bit of an understatement but she wasn't going to worry her brother more than he already was. "But we're handling it - I'm handling it."

"Handling a teenager is not an easy job and Juliana already has a temper…"

"She's going to be fine," Montserrat assured him despite not knowing it herself. "I'm going to make sure of it."

"Thank you," Gael gripped her hand again. "Really...thank you."

"What's family for?" Montserrat's smile would only last until her brother was taken away. Because as soon as she left, she handled yet another call from Juliana's school. She made a quick trip to the school and walked straight into the school's main office. She informed the first secretary she saw that she was there for Juliana and was immediately directed to her niece sitting outside the principal's office.

"Are you frikin kidding me?" she hissed at Juliana as she hurried up to the teenage ginger. "It's only noon!"

Juliana sat with her legs tightly closed and her arms crossed just as tightly against her chest. She looked like a four year old who'd gotten a scold...and she just might get one.

"What happened?" Montserrat bent down in front of her niece, letting go of the anger for a minute in hopes of getting the story from Juliana before she got it from the principal.

"I just did what I had to," Juliana curtly answered.

Montserrat tilted her head, then. "What did you do?" her voice sharpened.

Juliana did not answer.

The principal's door opened up to reveal a short, brunette woman dressed in a formal gray dress. Montserrat had come to know the woman in the past week as Principal Jannae Cams. "Miss Novak?"

"Yeah," Montserrat straightened on her feet. "Here I am...again…"

Cams turned away and led Montserrat into the office. Montserrat closed the door and inwardly sighed. She prepared herself for whatever Juliana pulled now.

"You should know, first and foremost, that we do not tolerate any type of violence in this school," Cams took her seat and left Montserrat to figure it out and take her own seat. "Which is why Juliana is suspended for the next three days."

"What?" Montserrat blinked. "What did she do?"

"Got into a fight with another of our students. Juliana was seen by at least three other students when she threw the first punch."

"My niece would never hurt anyone," Montserrat tried to say but Cams already had the story prepared and so cut her off.

"She broke the other student's nose. And when we asked Juliana about it, she admitted it. Juliana initiated the fight. She's suspended."

"I don't...I…" Montserrat drew in a deep breath to calm herself down before she too initiated a fight. "I have no idea what happened but I know for a fact that Juliana would never act like this unless she was provoked. What did the other student have to say about this?"

"That she was punched," Cams said, overly sarcastic which only fueled Montserrat's own anger. "In the nose. The family's pretty upset, as you can imagine."

"Well, I'd like to talk to this student and know what happened."

"Miss Novak, I understand that your family is currently undergoing some...problems, and I think it's affecting Juliana negatively. Perhaps you should take these 3 days of suspension as a way to talk to Juliana or, at the very least, get her some help."

Montserrat may have wanted to throw her own punch, but that wasn't like her either. She closed her eyes for a second to take another breath in. "Juliana's father, my brother, is being falsely accused so...yeah, it might be affecting Juliana but do you know what? She never fought before and even now...I know she wouldn't ever hurt someone so I'd really like to know what that other student had to say."

"I'm sorry, but that would be up to the parents."

Montserrat pushed herself up from her seat. "Fine," she practically spat before leaving the office. She grabbed Juliana by the arm on her way out of the main office, ignoring the teenager's cries to be let go until they were in the school hallway.

Classes were still in session which gave them the perfect chance to talk freely.

"I want to know what the hell happened that would lead to you breaking someone's nose!" she demanded from Juliana. "And don't you dare huff at me. What happened?"

"I already told Principal Cams that I punched Eleanor's nose!"

"Yeah, got that, what I want to know is why!?"

"Because she kept talking about my Dad like he was some criminal! She said he was a murderer and that he should rot in jail so you know what? I punched in her nose," Juliana folded her arms again, "And if I hadn't been pulled off her I would've gladly punched her again."

"Oh God Juliana," Montserrat pinched the bridge of her nose. Yeah, she should've seen this coming. "She was riling you up-"

"-of course she was! I'm not stupid!"

"No, but you were stupid enough to fall for it," Montserrat couldn't help but snap. "And now you've been suspended for 3 days. What the hell am I going to do? I just told your Dad I had things under control-"

"-you saw Dad?" Juliana's eyes widened. Her entire face lit up. "Can I see him!?"

"No! Because you're grounded!"

"What?" Juliana snorted. "You can't ground me. You're not my Mom."

"But I am your aunt and your current guardian so guess what? Grounded. And be grateful that I'm not mentioning this to your father. He's worried sick about you and Ivana."

"Well I'm worried too, but I can't do anything about it can I?" Juliana turned away, nearly letting her hair whip Montserrat's face. "I can't even see him!"

Montserrat had to pray that Juliana would see some light and be patient, otherwise there would be another type of hell coming for them.

~ 0 ~

As soon as Montserrat had gotten Juliana back home, the teenager locked herself in Montserrat's bedroom. She and Ivana had been staying there while Montserrat took the couch. But even then, Montserrat couldn't dwell too much in the suspension because she had to meet up with Damian about the bail money. Once more, they went through each other's finances, Casey's and Montserrat's father but they were still coming up short.

"Woah, what happened to my kitchen?" Kara's voice pulled the two from work to see her and Sonny walking into the apartment.

"We're just trying to figure it out again," Montserrat groaned and crumpled up an old bank statement in her hand.

"You guys are still short?" Sonny came over to see the handful of papers around Montserrat's immediate area.

"Yeah, the same 5 grand and no matter how we look at things...it doesn't add up."

"I told you guys I could put up 2 grand," Kara offered but Montserrat shook her head. "No. You need that for your salon's expenses."

"You're putting up your entire life saving's, girl," Kara countered but Montserrat still wouldn't give in.

"I'm sure, with a couple more days, we can figure it out," Damian said.

"I don't want Gael to spend another day in there," Montserrat sighed. "There's enough problems already and if I can get Gael out...that would really be nice. I just picked up Juliana because she's been suspended for 3 days."

"What happened?" frowned Sonny. The girl seemed like such a sweetheart.

"She punched a girl and broke her nose."

"Ha," Kara smirked. "Been there, done that."

"Yeah," Damian scowled at her and brought a finger to his nose as if it were still broken. "Watch out, Sonny."

The detective in question threw a concerned look at Kara.

"Juliana's getting picked on because of what's going on with Gael," Montserrat brought them back to the story. "So if I can get him out then at least he can be here to help them because obviously I'm not doing a good job."

"Hey, you're doing what you can," Damian got up from his chair and moved to Montserrat's side.

"Dad has Ivana right now because I couldn't pick her up on time from school," Montserrat brought her hands to her face. "I'm crashing here."

Damian gently pulled her hands from her face and squeezed them in his. "You're doing good. Why don't you get some rest? I can take things from here."

"Are you kidding? I can't go to sleep right now-"

But Damian pulled her right up, bringing them just a bit too close that had Sonny eyeing them. "I can take it for a couple hours. Get some rest."

"Yeah, he's right," Kara stepped forwards. "Take my room and if Juliana comes out we'll make sure she doesn't get into more trouble."

"I...I guess…" Montserrat gave the two siblings a soft smile. "Thanks. Really." She gave each a hug though it seemed to linger a bit more with Damian.

Once more, Sonny noticed it and had to hide his frown.

But before Montserrat would leave, she turned to her partner. "I've been meaning to ask, how's Nick?"

"He's good," Sonny answered her with a small smile. "The charges got dropped, actually. And, Olivia's acting commander again."

"What? What happened to Declan?"

"Some undercover mission, I don't know. But Liv's back in charge. And we're all waiting for you to come back."

"Believe me, I really want nothing but this nightmare to end too," Montserrat gave him a quick hug before leaving for a nap.

Kara waited to speak until Montserrat closed the door to her room. "Okay, now that it's just us...how bad is it?"

Damian threw a weary look at the papers left on the table. "We've gone through it dozens of times and...we are just out of money. Not to mention the fact Montserrat's solely paying Calhoun. She can't put up her entire savings for this."

"So what can we do?"

"Any of you guys got 5 grand just lying around?"

"I wish," Kara sighed. "My 2 grand still stands."

"You need that, though," Sonny reminded her. He'd love to help out but he was stuck with bills as well. Plus, he had a feeling Montserrat wouldn't he accepting his money anytime soon.

"We'll come up with something," Damian insisted. "But for right now I'm gonna head back to work. I know I told Montserrat that I would stay here and focus on the bail money but I think I would be a little bit more useful if I tried to find more evidence to help the case. Bail money becomes useless if the defendant is no longer a defendant but a convict."

"Yeah," Sonny nodded. He had mixed feelings about the guy but at least he knew Damian's heart was in the right place. "I need to head back to work too," he told Kara.

"Thanks for having lunch with me," Kara gave him a hug and a kiss before sending him off. Of course no one told her that she would be left to pick up all the papers from her kitchen table and floor.

~0~

"So she's not coming back anytime soon, then?" Olivia was disappointed, yet understood, to hear Sonny's relay of Montserrat's situation.

The detective stood in the middle of the bullpen's desks. He'd come in a few minutes before they were to discuss a new case potentially going to trial. They were only waiting for Rafael to get there.

"Nah, she's got way too much on her plate," Sonny said. "Juliana just got suspended for 3 days."

"What she do?" Amanda asked, looking just as surprised as Sonny had when he initially heard the news.

"Broke another student's nose."

"Teenagers," Fin said as of that was a reasonable explanation for anything.

"Those faces worry me," Rafael said as he came in. "Did the case go south already?"

"Everything's still intact," Olivia eased his worries. "We were only talking about Montserrat's troubles."

"Right," Rafael did a poor job looking casual. Truth was he hadn't heard from Montserrat in days and he didn't have the courage to call her. If she hadn't reached out to any of them, it was because she was too busy. He just had to learn how to control himself. "How...is she doing?"

Olivia gestured to Sonny since he had all the information. The detective shook his head. "Not so good. Way too many problems for one person to handle."

"Is no one helping her?" there was a sharp tone to Rafael's words that Sonny, and pretty much everyone else noticed.

"Well, yeah, but...it's a lot. Right now Montserrat's just focused on that bail money."

"She still hasn't collected it?"

"$5000 short."

"Oh…" Rafael let a moment of silence pass by before he moved the group onto business, but it didn't mean he'd forget what Sonny told him. And much less that it would stop bothering him.

When he was to leave, he managed to pull Sonny aside while everyone went onto their assigned tasks.

"Exactly how much does Montserrat need?" he asked very quietly once they were out in the hallway.

"About $5000 but listen, councilor, I know where you're getting at and believe me I've thought of doing the same thing," Sonny admitted in the same hushed tone Rafael used. "But I think we both know Montserrat would kill us if we tried giving her the money. Kara already tried doing the same and she got the same answer."

"That's insane. She needs help and we can give it to her." But even as Rafael said it, he knew there was no way Montserrat would take his money. She was too proud. Plus, if roles were reversed he wouldn't take money from her either.

But the thing was…

He didn't care.

He needed to help her and he had the means.

So he'd take the chance and be smart about it.

~0~

"Kara, I'm going out," Juliana was adamant despite having the blonde woman standing in front of the apartment door.

"No, you're not. Your aunt said you were grounded!"

"And I said that I wasn't!"

Kara blinked. She couldn't get how the hell Juliana turned into some temper-tantrum teenager - well, she had an idea but it still wasn't cool. "Your aunt is resting and you really need to let her. She has been spreading herself thin just to make sure you and your sister are okay."

"Well I'm not okay!" Juliana snapped. "Because my Dad isn't here! He's being accused of murder, haven't you heard?"

With a sigh, Kara leaned away from the door and walked up to the girl. "And your aunt is working so hard to prove he's innocent. Now you have to do your part and be a good listener."

Juliana scoffed and practically pushed past Kara to get to the door. Kara called for her to stop but of course Juliana never even looked back. She only slammed the door shut behind her. With a groan, Kara hurried to the door and opened it, only to bump into Rafael instead.

"I'm curious, do you or Montserrat ever just say a normal 'hello'?" he rubbed his nose with a common frown on his face.

"Sorry," Kara rubbed her own face. "You didn't happen to catch Juliana out there, did you?"

"Yeah, she looked mad as hell."

"She is." Kara sighed and let her hand drop to her side. "What are you doing here, anyways? If you came for Montserrat, good luck. She's finally getting some sleep and I doubt she'll be waking up anytime soon."

"I actually came to speak with you," Rafael admitted, reasonably surprising her since they hardly crossed words.

"Me? What for?"

"About Montserrat. Are you sure she's asleep?"

Kara nodded and motioned him to come in. "She hasn't slept in days. Trust me. She didn't wake up with Juliana's screams, so...we're good."

"Good," Rafael drew in a breath, letting Kara notice that he was nervous. That was novelty.

"What's going on?" she finally asked.

Rafael decided to just come out with it. He always blurted things out anyways. "Sonny told me that Montserrat was having trouble collecting the last of the bail money for Gael."

Kara sighed. "Yeah. She's going crazy."

"Alright, well...I want to help her with it. But I also know that…"

"Montserrat's too damn proud to take money from any of us?" Kara smiled sarcastically. "Yeah. I know her oh-so-well. And because I know her that well, I know that she won't take any money from you." Especially you, she thought.

"I know," sighed Rafael. He thought about it long and hard all day until he came up with an idea that could would work. "Which is why I'm giving you the money."

"Me!?" Kara blinked with wide eyes.

"Yeah, because she'll take the money if she thinks it's coming from you."

"No, that won't work," Kara shook her head. "I tried giving her 2 grand and she rejected it."

"Because she thought it was money that usually goes into your business. So just tell her that it's from somewhere else."

"I don't know…" Kara didn't feel right lying to Montserrat, but she also knew that maybe she'd be the only one who could actually get Montserrat to accept money from him.

Rafael reached for something inside his coat's pocket and pulled out an envelope. "It's the 5 grand."

"You walked the streets with 5 grand in your pocket!?" Kara exclaimed.

Rafael rolled his eyes. "Focus please. Take the money and make Montserrat use it."

"But she'll think it's from me and...that won't be right."

"That's the point. She'll never take money from me and I really want to help her, so…" Rafael motioned Kara to take the envelope.

Kara studied his face and realized, very quickly, that there was a desperate urge to help. She could identify with that because if Sonny was in dire need of money, she would want to help him by any means possible...and she would do whatever it took to help him. For that, she accepted the envelope. "I'll make sure she takes it," she promised for his concern.

There was an instant relief in Rafael's face. "Thank you. Really."

"You're welcome," Kara went to leave the envelope on the coffee table. She wanted to hand it to Montserrat first thing when the latter woke up.

"Thanks," Rafael headed for the door since he'd finished business, but at the last moment he turned back. "How...is she? For real?"

Kara could appreciate his attempt to be casual and discreet, but his feelings were visible from a mile away no matter what he did. "She's….she could be better. Her brother's being falsely accused of murder, so...you can understand that...it's difficult."

Rafael nodded silently.

"But I know that your help will definitely do her some good," Kara added in hopes of helping him as well.

"Wish I could do more," he blurted.

"You could," Kara wasn't afraid, like most people, to say things how they were. "But that's all up to you."

Rafael pointed at her as if he was going to say something, but in the end he opened the door and left.

"Nobody escapes Kara Mackie," Kara proudly said.

~ 0 ~

It was evening when Montserrat finally woke up, but even when she did she still felt rather tired. She emerged from Kara's bedroom to a quiet apartment. Kara was busy watching television but quickly paused the screen when she saw Montserrat.

"Hey!" she swallowed down the last of her popcorn before sitting up.

"Ivana isn't here, is she?" Montserrat assumed first. A four year old would never be this quiet.

"Uh, no. Your dad's keeping her tonight."

"And Juliana?"

Kara bit her lower lip. Yeah, she'd been debating how to go about that part. "Umm...she's...sort of...out…"

"Out?" Montserrat picked her phone from her back pocket and saw the time. "It's seven o'clock. Wait, she's not supposed to be out! She's grounded."

"Yeah that...sort of didn't take," Kara apologized with a small smile before bursting into a fit of rambles. "I'm so sorry! I tried to stop her but I really forgot what it's like being a teenager! She didn't listen - she was so mad!"

"Kara, it's alright," Montserrat sighed and sat down next to her. "I know Juliana's sort of...in a funk right now."

"But don't worry, I got your friend - Claire Wilson? She's with Juliana and she's keeping me updated in case they get into trouble."

"Well thanks," Montserrat leaned back against the couch. "But it still leaves so many other problems." She rubbed her hands over her face and groaned. Maybe she should just go back to sleep.

"Listen," Kara grabbed the remote control again and shut the television off, "I was...doing some digging through my own finances and…"

"Oh, Kara, no…" Montserrat presumed where her friend was headed. She watched Kara reach for an envelope on the table.

"I got the money, Montse," Kara put on her best smile, a hopeful one at that. "All $5000 of it. It's right here." She held the envelope to Montserrat but, as expected, Montserrat wouldn't take it.

"I can't do that. Where'd you even get the money from, you didn't have it before."

"I, uh, dug for it," shrugged Kara. She pushed the envelope to Montserrat's chest, but the ginger shook her head.

"Absolutely not. I can't take it."

"Oh!" Kara groaned. "And why not? You took it from Damian-"

"-because he's Gael's friend! You're my best friend and I know that you need this money!"

"Trust me, I really don't," Kara waved the envelope in front of Montserrat's face. "What I need is for you to take it."

"I can't do it, I'm sorry."

"Montserrat, stop being stupid. You need it - Gael needs it!"

"Gael needs me to figure it out," snapped Montserrat. "He doesn't need me taking money from other people."

"I'm not 'people', I'm family. And you know what? It's not even the reason you should take the money. You should take it because…" Kara licked her lips nervously, "...because the person who came up with this money really wants to help you." Her voice softened when she added, "He really does."

Of course that earned Kara a puzzled look from Montserrat. "What?" the ginger asked.

Kara sighed. "He's going to kill me," she concluded in a whisper, but she figured if she was killed because she tried helping her best friend it would be a worthy death.

"What the hell?" Montserrat wearily said as she dreaded what Kara was up to.

Kara drew in a deep breath as she shifted to face Montserrat. "Okay, so, that money...I'm not supposed to say, but...it's not mine."

"What, did you steal it?"

"No, Sonny would kill me, first of all. Someone gave me that money-"

"-Kara, please tell me that's not dirty money."

"Oh my God, would you just let me talk!?"

Montserrat pursed her lips together then motioned Kara to go on. "Look, I'm telling you this because I think it's only fair that you recognize the intent. I didn't come up with the money - hell, it's not even my money. Rafael stopped by this afternoon."

"...don't tell me," Montserrat narrowed her eyes on Kara, almost making the latter gulp on the spot.

"He wanted to give you the money himself but he knew you wouldn't take it-"

"-damn right I wouldn't!" Montserrat practically threw the envelope to Kara's face. "How could you accept that money!?"

"Uh, because you need it? And because Rafael was pretty insistent that you take it."

"Rule number 1 when it comes to Rafael: never listen to him!"

"I can see where most of your problems come from."

"It's not funny, Kara!" Montserrat was furious. She jumped from her seat and turned to glare at Kara. "I would never take money from him. So I'm going to give that back to him right now!"

"No you are not!" Kara hugged the envelope to her chest.

"Yes, I am!"

"Give me one good reason why you shouldn't take the money?"

"Because...because…" Montserrat shifted on her feet, the frustration getting to her as she came up with no good answer.

"Aha," Kara tilted her head. "See? You should take the money and use it to get Gael out of that hellhole."

"But I can't!" Montserrat threw her hands in the air. "It doesn't feel right!"

Kara shook her head. "Montserrat, quit being so proud and just accept the help." She patted the open spot next to her and called it a win when Montserrat actually sat down again. "Don't be stupid and please don't be proud. Rafael came with the most honest intentions and he specifically asked me not to say anything. He didn't want you to know that the money was from him."

"Well you sure screwed that up, huh?" Montserrat gently jabbed Kara on her side.

"Yeeeeah. Please keep me safe, he scares me a bit."

Montserrat laughed. "Oh c'mon."

"No, I'm serious! He's nice and all but he's scary," Kara's face only made Montserrat laugh harder. "I don't know how you do it."

"Cos he's not scary," Montserrat sobered slowly despite hearing Kara's continuous accusations of the opposite.

"Alright, so...will you take the money?"

Montserrat looked down at the envelope between them, looking unsure. "I don't...I don't know. I feel like I should just return it."

"Montse, I know I tease you and all but, being serious...he really did look worried and he was just doing what he thought was best. And he asked about you - how you were doing? C'mon," Kara now bumped shoulders with Montserrat. "Don't tell me it doesn't make your heart beat just an itty-bitty-" Kara raised her hand with an index finger just above her thumb to show the amount, "-tiny bit faster?"

Montserrat shook her head but said nothing. She wasn't going to give Kara any reason to actually tease again. "I'm over it. I'm over him. I said that a long time ago-"

"Regardless, before you take that money back...just think about it for a bit. Maybe just...consider it." Kara gave Montserrat a quick side-hug before getting up to leave.

Montserrat brought a hand to her curls as she once again looked down at the envelope. It was so stupid. There laid the solution to one of her problems and she was being too proud to take it. "Goddammit," she sighed and got up from the couch.

~ 0 ~

"Sonny?"

The last thing the detective in question thought he'd see in the D.A's building was his partner who was meant to be taking a leave from SVU. Sonny turned back in the hallway to see Montserrat coming into the building in a rush. She was bundled up in a beige-colored coat.

"Montserrat what are you doing here?" Sonny checked his watch for the time and raised his eyebrows when he realized it was a bit late for her. "It's ten o'clock."

Montserrat shrugged but her pursed lips and a gaze that couldn't seem to look him in the eyes indicated something else was at play. "I just...needed to talk to someone."

"Casey?" Sonny jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"No, well, no…" Montserrat sighed. She would have to be a little more truthful. "I need to speak with Rafael. Is that where you were headed?"

"Yeah, uh, Liv's got me on a case and…" Sonny got the feeling she wasn't really paying attention to him. Her eyes kept flickering in the direction of Rafael's office. "Montse? Are you okay?"

Montserrat licked her lips and exhaled. "Look, Sonny, can you just give me like...5 minutes with Rafael? And then you can go in and talk about your case."

"O...kay…" Sonny looked her over and noticed she was a bit shifty. "Are you sure you're okay? Did something happen? Is there anything I can do to help you-"

Montserrat raised a hand to stop him talking. "Just give me those 5 minutes I'm asking for and we're good."

"Al-alright, go ahead," Sonny stepped aside and gestured for her to go. She gave him a grateful smile and went on her way.

In his office, Rafael was doing what he normally did each night. On one side he had the usual stack of papers and on the other side, he had the trusty glass of alcohol. He heard a noise - footsteps - outside but before he even thought of looking up, they spoke up.

"You paid my brother's bail money."

Rafael shut his eyes as if hoping this was just a hallucination. Maybe he'd finally had too much to drink. But when he opened his eyes and looked up, he saw Montserrat by the door. "Dammit," he muttered. He put his pen down and stood up. "I honestly thought Kara might manage to keep it a secret," he admitted as he moved around the desk. He had to make a compelling argument now before she killed him. Luckily, this was what he did for a living. "I know you're mad but I know you needed the money. And before you throw it at my face-"

Montserrat rolled her eyes and strode up to hug him, surprising the hell out of him. He was frozen in his spot, arms to his sides as he debated if this was real or not. Montserrat couldn't care less how he reacted or how she should react. She'd thought long and hard about what she'd say or do when she saw him and this was the only thing she felt was right. So, that's why she wrapped her arms around his neck and let that need finally be quenched.

"I'm...very confused here." It pained Rafael to admit it but he just couldn't understand why she was hugging him and not screaming at him.

Montserrat pulled away but never let go of him. "I can't be mad at you. Not when you gave away $5000 from your own pocket."

"...so you're keeping the money?"

"Well, I did think about giving it back to you but...I need to swallow my pride and use it to get Gael out. But I am going to pay you back, every last cent."

Rafael rolled his eyes at her. "Don't worry about that-"

"-but I am because it's the only way I'll truly feel okay with this."

There was no way he was going to get through to her but he didn't want to argue with her. He gave in with a nod and it definitely got a smile from her.

"Thank you so much," she said and hugged him again.

This time, he hugged her back. He held her tight as if she were going to disappear in the next second. He never really noticed how easily she seemed to fit between his arms; like she belonged right there with him.

Every time, he thought. Every time he had Montserrat that close to him he remembered how much he needed her with him. All those previous thoughts that they couldn't be that close were dismissed, forgotten, pushed away. He couldn't be that careless, not when it came to her.

Montserrat pulled away only slightly. She seemed more nervous than before, her eyes even seemed like they were struggling to look up at him. "Hey, um...I know what you said before...I know that we agreed…" she couldn't find the right words to express her feelings, no matter how much she tried. Screw it.

She kissed him. And there went his caution...again. His arms instinctively tightened around her waist, keeping her firmly pressed against him. She had the sweetest lips - even though they often threw some insults at him - and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her forever.

But he needed to remember what he was trying to do for her. He was only able to regain some type of control when he pulled away. "Montse, we can't," he whispered, but the mere fact he'd said a nickname he hardly every used was proof enough that he wasn't entirely convinced with his words. Because he really wasn't.

"Please don't say that again," she begged. She had her eyes closed and maybe it was for the better. She could feel his nose nuzzling her cheek. "I told myself before deciding to come here that I was over you and everything, but...I'm not. I'm really, really not. And I dare say that you aren't either...right?"

Rafael drew away to look in her shiny brown eyes. He tilted his head slightly, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I never said that I was."

~ 0 ~

Out in the hallway, Sonny stayed behind just like Montserrat had asked him to. He was checking his phone for an update from Liv when he heard footsteps nearing him. He looked up to see a familiar woman coming. It took two seconds flat to recognize Yelina.

Oh crap. For some reason, Sonny didn't want to let her in...or at the very least, he thought she shouldn't go into Rafael's office until Montserrat gave him the 'ok'.

"H-hi!" he practically jumped in front of Yelina without a clue of what he was going to say or do.

"Hello?" she gave him an odd, yet reasonable, look. "Do I know you?"

"Um...I'm...a friend…" Sonny said, pretty much making it up as he went along.

"Not my friend," Yelina was quick to say. "And I'm sorry but I have somewhere I need to get to." She tried moving around but Sonny quickly followed in suit to block her way.

"I'm sorry ma'am but Mr. Barba's a bit busy right now!"

Yelina tilted her head at him. "How do you know I'm here to see Rafael?"

You didn't think this through, Sonny inwardly sighed.

~ 0 ~

"It's hard, Montserrat but it's the truth. It's better if we don't do anything. I'm not good," Rafael wanted to sound as convincing as possible but he wasn't doing it right. He could've started by letting Montserrat go but his arms seemed to be on another plan.

"You say all these things like you're no good for me or that I may crash down because of you but guess what?" Montserrat's eyes became even more tearful, some of them threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. "I'm not with you and I'm still crashing. There's no one to help me pick up the pieces."

Rafael's heart broke at her frail voice. She wasn't falling apart, but she certainly wasn't in her best state.

~ 0 ~

"Ah, so you were one of the detectives who helped put my husband on trial," Yelina's face went sour as she finally recognized Sonny. "That's nice, but...I need to go see my friend."

Once more, Sonny took the same step with her. He held his hands up just as she was becoming irritated with him. "I'm really sorry but he's with someone important right now."

Yelina raised an eyebrow at him. She had a sharp look that gave Sonny chills. "Business?" she asked.

"Uuh…not...really." Truth was that Sonny wasn't sure what was the nature of Montserrat's visit but whatever the answer was, he was sure it wouldn't please Yelina.

"Well, business or not Rafael has some explaining to do," Yelina straightened up, expression more fierce than ever. "Thinks he can blow me off without repercussions? I don't think so." She moved around Sonny and threatened him with a glare not to try getting in her way.

"Dammit," the detective muttered with a hand on his forehead. He quickly pulled out his phone but he wasn't sure who to text: Montserrat or Rafael?

~ 0 ~

"Montserrat, I'm only trying to do what's best for you," Rafael insisted but she humorlessly laughed.

"Do I look okay to you? I'm not. And I thought, that maybe - just maybe - we could finally work something out," Montserrat let go of him but she stayed as close to him as they were when they hugged. "I'm tired of pretending, tired of denying things...aren't you?"

Rafael would love to say 'yes' but that would go against the point he was trying to make. "I do care for you. It's just…"

Montserrat gently put her hands on both sides of his face. "No more long speeches, just tell me the truth."

"Truth?"

"The truth about why you don't want to be with me. Because all these speeches just sound...like speeches. Like something you rehearse for your job. I'm not a jury you have to convince. I just want you to be honest here."

"You want honesty? Fine," Rafael sighed. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't keep lying to himself and much less Montserrat. The truth was right in the fact that she made him lose control with just one kiss. He had his thoughts organized when it came to this subject. He had plans to keep himself away from Montserrat but then she comes right in and makes those thoughts and ideas disappear. There was no point in trying to build plans when it didn't matter in the end. He would just have to face it, face her. She got him.

"Not business," they heard from the doorway. Yelina looked a bit...fascinated by what she saw. "Definitely not."

Montserrat withdrew her hands. The expression on her face indicated an expectancy of answers because Yelina's presence made zero sense to her.

"Well, I can assume this is why you rudely left lunch early on Monday."

"Monday…?" Montserrat repeated just before it hit her. "Gael's arraignment." She laid eyes on Rafael again with a growing anger. "You were late." He was supposed to be on time, to be there with her when Gael was taken out for arraignment...and he'd almost missed it. Because he was having lunch with her.

"Yes, but I…" He really didn't have a good explanation for that one since Yelina basically beat him to it. But she said it all wrong and now he was screwed.

Montserrat exhaled as the weight of regret began hitting her. She stepped away from him. "I get it now."

"I don't think you do," Rafael said, sounding almost afraid of the conclusion she'd come to. He tried reaching for her arm but she yanked it away.

"There's the truth," she spat.

"It's not that, I swear-" he made the mistake of attempting to touch her again.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed and pushed his hands away from her. The humorless laugh that came next did not bode well. "And here I thought…" she laughed again then shook her head. "Forget it. I get it now. So sorry-" she gestured to both Rafael and Yelina, "-I got in the way. You won't have to worry about me again."

"Montserrat," Rafael called but she was storming out before he could even finish her name. There he went again screwing things up.

~ 0 ~

Sonny caught Montserrat coming out into the hallway a sprint, almost running really. "Montse! Hey!" he barely caught her arm but even then she wrestled to get free from his hands. "Montserrat, it's me!"

"I know! Let me go!"

Sonny only did so because he didn't want her yelling in the middle of the hallway. "Montserrat, what's happened?" She was in tears and he could only assume why. "Hey," his voice softened, "It's because of that woman, huh? I'm sorry. I tried to stop her-"

Montserrat laughed through her tears. "Sonny, you are the least person at fault here. This whole thing is just a mess - it was a mess from the start and you know what? I am so tired of it."

"Montse…"

"And I know that I've said this many times before but this time I really mean it: I hate—" Montserrat's voice truly snapped while she pointed at nothing in particular, "—Rafael so much. I wish I never met him."

"Montserrat, I don't think you mean it—"

"Try me, Dominick!" she frantically snapped. Her hands reached behind her neck and in two seconds she had taken off the ballerina necklace Rafael gave her and chucked it at Sonny. With such speed she used, he scrambled to catch it before it would hit his face. "I mean it with every fiber of my being. I hate him!" she turned away and left in a storm.

Sonny sighed deeply. He felt like he should at least drive her home or make sure she got home safely in whatever she came in...but he wasn't stupid to believe that she would let him or anyone else near her right now. So, that just left the other side of the party.

~ 0 ~

"So I guess now I know why you cut lunch short," Yelina made it in three steps before Rafael ordered her to leave.

"You and I are done," he spat and pointed at the open door.

"I didn't do this," Yelina said what she assumed he was thinking. "You did. You always had a tendency to know better and it always backfired."

"Get out!" he shouted at her. "I don't understand what the hell you wanted from me since the beginning! And frankly, if I was even a little bit curious now I'm not! Because you just cost me the one good thing I had in my life!"

"It didn't look like that to me," Yelina cautiously approached the desk Rafael was retreating behind. "She was already upset before I walked in. I was just the tip of the iceberg."

Rafael rubbed his face in exasperation then slammed them down on the desk. "What—" his voice had sharpened, "—do you want from me? Just tell me so you can finally leave me the hell alone. What is it? Money? A hand in Alex's trial? A job? Just tell me!"

But to his mighty frustration, Yelina said nothing. She only tilted her head and studied him. His darkened expression, his narrowed eyes, his heavy breathing. He was outright furious, perhaps the most furious she'd ever seen him...and she'd known him for a very long time. "Oh my God, that detective's responsible for this?" she pointed him up and down. "That tiny thing has got you...so wrapped around her finger."

Rafael gripped the edges of his desk because otherwise, he might have actually thrown her out of the office.

With a sigh, Yelina leaned forwards on the desk but the mere action made him straighten away from the desk. "Truthfully, I don't want anything. I didn't mean to cause you harm. In fact...up until last week, I had no intention of seeing you. I thought I had made a fool out of myself plenty the last time we saw each other. I certainly had no intention of causing this...problem with that woman. She seemed nice the last time I met her. Not quite your taste but that's beside the point."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The truth is, Rafael, you need to watch your back...as does that detective." Yelina looked around as if someone were going to eavesdrop on them. "Someone paid me good money to come see you. Don't ask me who, because I don't know. I just got a request with the promise of a decent amount that could help me and my girls get the hell out of this city."

"What do you...what do you mean? Are you joking?"

"No," Yelina shook her head. "Why else do you think I had no answer when you asked me what I wanted from you? I mean, yes, it was nice to see you but...I had no face to ask anything from you. Someone wanted me to come and see you, make sure to cause some problems with you and Detective Novak."

Rafael wanted to call her a liar, but if there was something about her was that she was no liar. And she didn't appear to be one right now. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because...I was not a good person to you, during the investigation and before...I blamed you for many things when the truth was I had a fair share of the fault. You and I...we didn't work. We just didn't. I wanted more. But I gambled and lost with Alex and now I have no right to take that chance away from you nor Detective Novak. I'm really sorry. And if you want, I could try to talk with her—"

"You will stay away from her," Rafael warned, leaving no room for arguments. "I don't want you near Montserrat, do you understand? If everything you just said is true—"

"It is—"

"Then you need to leave. Leave me alone, leave Montserrat alone and just go. I don't want to see you again."

"That's fair," Yelina nodded her head. "But I am taking the money because I need it. My girls need it."

"Sure," Rafael couldn't care less. He didn't wish her any harm but he certainly didn't care what happened in her life.

"Goodbye Rafael. Take care," she said then turned to leave. Only a few seconds after she was gone, Rafael received a visit from Sonny.

"Goddammit," he muttered. What more could this night throw him?

"Yeah, I know, not a place I expected to be," Sonny sighed. "I just came for the warrants you promised Liv. I didn't expect to be right at the center of all...this…"

"I will send them, get out," Rafael returned to his seat.

"Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything. I have a lot of work to do so please get out." And maybe a lot of drinking too. Who knew.

Sonny drew in a deep breath, mumbling an 'oh boy' before he started off with what could either be his death sentence or the solution to Rafael's problems. "Listen, I'm not speaking to you as a co-worker, I am going to speak to you as a friend because right now you need one. What the hell are you doing, Rafael?"

Rafael could honestly say that he had no idea. "It wasn't like I planned it," he said as a means of defense.

"No, because that would be incredibly stupid," Sonny's flat tone wasn't appreciated in the least. "Can I just ask, in all seriousness...why?" Rafael gave him a confused look. "Help me understand because as much as we both hate it, the reality is I know everything. Literally. Why make all this trouble if you actually do like Montserrat? I don't get it."

Well it was bad enough Sonny knew everything, but now Rafael would have to explain himself? Again? He rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing this, Carisi. You can go."

"No," the detective flatly refused. "Because each time you screw up more than the last time and you should know that this time...you royally screwed up. Montserrat despises you."

"I didn't plan this - I actually had a very different plan in mind...but Yelina cut me off. She has terrible timing. And now Montserrat hates me."

"Yeah she does."

Rafael paused to glare at Sonny. "Aren't you supposed to be helping here or did I misread the conversation?"

Sonny rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. Truth is, if Kara told me she hated me I'd lose my mind. I need her just as I'm sure you need Montserrat."

"Let's not go confusing things." This time, Rafael's arguments wouldn't win against the detective.

"I'm not. Because it's not a question of 'want' anymore, you have a 'need'."

"What?"

Sonny took a seat down as he began to explain. "Look, I don't 'want' to see Kara. I need to see Kara. Every day. I don't want to spend time with her, I need to. It's a need that I can't push away because...because I love Kara. The 'want' fades away fairly quick but the 'need'...that doesn't go away. That's what you have with Montserrat now. You need her."

Rafael didn't like that Sonny actually thought he knew what he wanted - needed. It was ridiculous...wasn't it? She makes you throw your plans away, he reminded himself. You have no control when she's around.

Sonny watched the internal struggle for a few minutes before he took pity and further explained. "You remember those times where you asked me to find Montserrat? Because you wanted to see her? Well, you didn't want to see her. You needed to see her. You needed to make sure she was okay. And right now, do you want to see Montserrat? Or do you need to go and make sure she's alright?"

Well, the answer was evident, wasn't it?

"And listen, I wasn't going to say anything because it's, well, childish but...you should know that you're not the only one who has eyes on Montserrat."

Now that piece of information was surprising. Rafael tilted his head, for a second almost accusing Sonny.

"Don't get any ideas, councilor. I meant someone else. Uh, Damian." Sonny knew that alone was shocking but it did feel good to finally tell someone the secret that'd been gnawing at his mind.

"What?" frowned Rafael. "He wouldn't—"

"-oh but he would. You know that Kate Spade watch Montserrat proudly wears? Damian got it for her. He knows that's her favorite store. He likes her and if you continue to act like this, you're going to push her straight to him. Is that what you want? Is it really what you want?"

"Well of course not," Rafael found himself blurting. He shifted in his seat after realizing how fast that'd come out. "I already told you that I did plan on telling her. I was seconds away when Yelina made her...presence known."

"Well that's good," Sonny nodded. "Because we have a lot of work to do here." He reached for something in his pocket then put it down on the desk, revealing the ballerina necklace Montserrat had practically thrown at him. "If there's one thing I've figured out about women is that you can't outsmart them. But maybe two of us can and we can get you five minutes with her. Your fast mouth might just save you."

Rafael smiles for the first time. "With any luck."

[an-absolute-travesty]

Royal Screw-Ups

It’s time, the final chapter is here 

*Sobbing*

I won’t get too sappy on you guys here, since I got pretty sappy at the end of thing on Wattpad

But yeah. Thanks if you’ve been reading this long. I have more plans for this world (i have some plans for a few oneshots) but for this moment, we are closing out this story

If you’re looking for the rest of the story, it can be found on my wattpad @ohwowhatethis, under the tags “kotlc fic” and “keefex” on my blog, or under the cut on my pinned post

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed, just for this story or as a whole): @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percabetn @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e

Chapter 8:

Word count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, cassi-ass being an ass, destruction, fire, chaos, etc.

Three months of planning later, servants scurried around the property in preparation for the ceremony the next day. A glass dome had been built in the center of the property to house it.

Tam and Linh had arrived soon after they had their first meeting, luckily Tam and Fitz weren’t as lovey-dovey in real life as they were in their letters. However, Marella and Linh very much made up for it. The moment they met the guard and the princess had a connection, the sweet talk was almost too much to bear.  

In fact, all of them had grown quite close over the past months. Who knew low-level treason could bring people together so. 

Of course, not nearly as close as he’d like with a certain person, but closer for sure. Every week they met back up at the library to work out bumps in their plan, clean up the absurd amount of paper Keefe used in drawing out his first plan, or just sit and talk. Today would be their last before the big day. 

Keefe watched over Dex’s shoulder as he made his final tinkers on the device he had been working on.  

“How’s it looking Techmaster?”

“Eh, having more metal makes everything easier but...it’s one use only, so I can’t test it. We just have to hope for the best.”

“Well, I have faith in you. Your genius brain could make anything.”

Dex rolled his eyes. Keefe wanted to subtly touch him to see if his blatant flirting had been noticed, but it felt wrong to. He had been stuck in the dark for the last 3 months. 

Everyone else ran their lines around the room. Everyone besides Sophie who, as typical of her, looked half way sick in the corner. 

Keefe sat down next to her on the floor.

“Alright, what’s up Foster, have you acquired a stomach bug?” 

She giggled. “No...it’s just…” She sighed. “It feels wrong, y’know? I mean...I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“You’re really doing the opposite of hurting people though, I mean you’re making them happy.”

“Not happy, hysterical. Yeah it can be happy, but not in the way we’re doing it. Trust me, it’s not fun to watch.”

Keefe thought for a moment.

“Hey...your parents have that griffin, right?”

~*~

The sound of a wedding march echoed through the castle lawn as Sophie was led down the isle by her father. Keefe guessed she looked quite lovely in her dress, Biana, who stood as her maid of honor, was looking at her more like a husband would than him. He stood frozen at the alter, Fitz beside him as his best man and everyone else interspersed within the crowd for optimal dramatic effect. 

Sophie reached him at long last. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t look sickly this time. Her face steeled with determination gave him confidence. 

The guy marrying them together was one of Cassius’ officials. Keefe didn’t bother to remember most names anymore, but this one was a...Moland? Noland? Something like that. 

Everyone winced in unison as the man started talking, Keefe’s ears began to ring a bit at the volume.

“Lords and Ladies, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of our young Prince Keefe Sencen and the lovely Miss Sophie Foster-Ruewen.”

Keefe only realized he was fidgeting when Fitz subtly reached out and held his hand down from where it had been tapping on his leg.

“We are honored to be joined by so many friends and family. The Goom and Bride are overjoyed you all could be here to participate in this most important occasion.

“There are few greater joys in life than finding someone we truly connect with. Creatives have many names for this, a spark, clicking, but let us say today what it truly is: love.”

Keefe looked out into the crowd, he caught the eye of Dex. The redhead’s brow was crinkled and his cheeks flushed slightly. He pat the pocket of his coat in confirmation. 

“Love is what these two young souls have found in each other. In love, our truest selves are revealed. We open ourselves up and break down our walls. The veil we present to the public is lifted so we can be loved for who we are, not who we pretend to be.”

Keefe struggled to not roll his eyes. He took a final look around the room, each person nodding as he met eyes with them.

“Over these months, our Bride and Groom have developed a strong bond. This bond will only get stronger throughout the course of their marriage. Let us revel in the joy and love displayed in front of us today. May we treasure these memories as Prince Keefe and Miss Sophie get set to begin their new life together.”

Keefe took a deep breath, knowing the next words out of his mouth.

“If anyone has cause to object the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

3, 2, 1…

“I object!” 

0.

Stina first. “This marriage was meant to be mine! She’s just a dirty commoner!”

“How dare you!” Fitz cut in before anyone else could. “I object because I love her! Sophie is meant to be with me. Maruca has admitted her love to Keefe, let her marry him!”

Biana gasped dramatically. “Maruca you snake! You knew I loved him.”

“You only loved his title!” She screamed, standing up to match the rest. “And Fitz, if you’re so concerned with what Stina has to say about Sophie, you should hear what Wylie has to say.”

Fitz walked in Wylie’s direction and he stood. “Why you little-”

Just then, Keefe heard it. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

BOOM.

An explosion burst a small part of the glass dome’s ceiling. Sophie let out an ear-splitting whistle and the griffin flew straight through the hole as the glass fell. Screams erupted through the room as the animal landed on chairs and destroyed the alter. 

The screams only got louder as the room was lit up as bright as the sun before swiftly being plunged into darkness. Those involved in the plan used the opportunity to gather themselves at the exit. With the exception of Biana and Marella who, if all went as planned, stood prepared by the very flammable reception tables. 

The darkness lifted and people quickly ran out, some of the more stuck up nobles guided by guards. Once everyone was out safely, Keefe watched as a red glow started and grew. Marella wasn’t visible, but anyone paying attention could see the two sets of footprints forming in the grass.

People ran farther from the dome swiftly filling with fire. It spread quickly, but before it could reach the outside, Linh yelled. 

“Everyone back up!”

She pulled water from a nearby pond, making a large wave that, while it put out the fires, crushed the dome in its entirety. 

~*~

Two hours later, the guests sat huddled in the ballroom of the castle, many wrapped in blankets and eating soup the kitchen served to recover from what they had been through. Through the window, Keefe saw the Ruewen parents attempting to calm their griffin after taking a long time to wrangle it. 

They were good at keeping secrets, they brought the animal here in the first place. 

Just as he started crossing the room to go talk to Dex, he felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder.

Cassius looked at him with a glare that could kill ten men. He wordlessly guided Keefe in the direction of his office and the prince obliged. 

When Keefe walked in the door, it was messier than he had ever seen it. Even his father himself was disheveled, his typically slick-backed hair uncharacteristically sloppy and his tunic smudged with soot. He sat down at his desk and heaved a sigh.  

“Do you know why I brought you in here?” 

“Because my wedding was destroyed?”

“Because we are going to plan a new one. I need you to collect everyone who had objections to get this idiotic drama cleared for the records. I’ve sent for Councillor Bronte, he can officiate you. You will have a wedding today, whether you get the ceremony or not.”

“One problem with that, Biana and Marella haven’t been found.”

Technically the truth. They were to hide in the Queen’s Gardens until further notice, but the Guard Force didn’t know that. 

Cassius was silent for a moment, his face hidden in his hands.

Then he started convulsing.

No, not convulsing.

Laughing.

“Of course!” He got up from his chair in one movement. “Of course they haven’t been found! Why am I even surprised anymore.” He threw his hands in the air. “Nothing ever goes right!” He spoke through his teeth as he pushed everything off of his desk.

“MY MARRIAGE” He cleared a bookshelf with one arm, dumping the junk to the ground. 

“MY LEADERSHIP!” He knocked over his chair.

“MY SON!” He grabbed the painting from the wall and threw it down. 

“ALL DISAPPOINTMENTS!” He pushed over his desk, it landed with a loud crash.

“And now this too? Nothing ever goes right! No matter how hard I try! No matter how much work I put in! Everything ends in failure!”

“It’s a good thing this was my wedding and not yours then.”

The door behind them opened without a knock. 

“King Cassius, is this a bad time?” Bronte looked at the office with contempt. 

“No, now works.”

Despite not being formally invited in, Bronte sat down on the overturned desk and pulled out a folder of paperwork. 

“So...we’re trying to do an emergency wedding, yes?”

Cassius nodded.

“And from my understanding, there were 1,2...4 objections that haven’t been cleared?”

Cassius nodded again.

“Then I’m afraid I can’t perform a wedding. Legally or morally considering the fact that fate itself seems against this union. It is traditional, when a wedding goes so badly, to accept that something in the universe is not accepting of the marriage and call it off.”

“I understand, Councillor. However, I am the goddamned king and you will do as I say!

Bronte was unfazed.

“Actually sir, with only a month until the coronation you have resigned some of your duties, as is customary. You don’t have full control over the law at the moment, you signed a contract.”

He pulled said contract out of his pocket, displaying the signature, before putting it back in.

“Prince Keefe and you now have split control, as you had when you had a spouse. You both must agree if you are to override a law.”

Cassius hid his face once again.

“Go. Get out of my sight.”

Keefe turned to leave but his father grabbed him.

“Just Bronte.”

The man shrugged and closed the door behind him.

“Keefe...do you know why I was so eager to get you in as king?”

Keefe said nothing. That was one thing he couldn’t figure out himself. 

“I am a shitty, shitty, king. I was never made to rule. Your mother? Yes. Yes she was. Me? No. Not at all. I thought I could do this job, I thought it would be cushy, I thought I’d have all the power in the kingdom as well as riches upon riches without having to work. I was wrong.

“I wanted to train you to do this better than I ever could. I wanted to make sure you were going to be prepared.”

“No.” Keefe’s eyes started to water in anger. “You wanted to train me up to take your job as soon as possible. You didn’t want the responsibility so you decided to hand it off to your child. It’s just like...it’s just like Mom. You were the judge and the jury but you were too much of a coward to be the executioner or even a mourner. You hand off all your problems for someone else to deal with. You’re a fucking coward and nothing else.”

“I cared Keefe!-”

“NO YOU DIDN’T.” Tears streamed down his face. “You never cared about me, you never cared about Mom, you never cared for anything or anybody but yourself. 

“I don’t love Sophie and I never will, but you tried to make me marry her because you loved the idea of the strong son with a quiet woman. That shows how much you care.”

“It was what I thought was best.”

“WELL YOU WERE WRONG.”

Keefe walked out and slammed the door. 

~*~

Keefe went to his room and sobbed. He rarely indulged himself in crying but today was one of the days he let himself. It was maybe an hour later, when he was out of tears and just laid staring up at his ceiling, that he heard a knock on the door.

When he opened it, no one stood there. Just a small note in scratchy handwriting. 

“Meet us at the library, midnight”

~*~

Keefe carefully sneaked through the castle halls, only the candle he held lit his way. He slowly cracked open the library door.

“SURPRISE!”

Suddenly a whole group of people attacked him in a hug, rainbow lights filled the normally dull room. 

“W-what is all this?”

“It’s a surprise party silly!” For the first time since he’d seen her, Sophie looked truly happy. “We don’t have to get married! And we got out of it without any serious injuries.”

Fitz pulled him over to a table. “C’mon, Bi stole some leftover cake no one ate from the kitchens.”

He looked around for Dex hoping to see his beaming smile and instead saw him sitting solemnly in the corner. He didn’t look Keefe’s way. 

“Hey Fee, are you okay?” Apparently Fitz just now noticed his still puffy face.

“Yeah um...just my dad being a jerk again. Don’t worry about it.”

Fitz shrugged it off, he knew about jerky dads.

Or he used to, anyway. That bastard Alden ran away a long time ago. 

Keefe tried to partake in the festivities but he found it hard. He was going to be king in a month, and hopefully a good one at that. Just about anything was better than Cassius. He should be celebrating right now. But...there was still something bothering him. 

It was approaching the wee hours of the morning as people slowly trickled out. Wylie had long since dropped the rainbow lights. They had been celebrating for hours, Dex was silent nearly the whole time. 

“Alright.” Fitz said through a yawn. “I’m tapping out. Night Fee. Last one standing has to clean everything up.”

Keefe nodded. When he finally left the room and they were all alone, he approached Dex. Still silent in the corner.

“Okay, what’s going on Techmaster? You seem down.”

“No it’s just...it’s hard to explain.”

“Take your time, if you’d like.” Keefe sat down criss cross in front of him.

His lips went pouty in a way that made Keefe realize he was staring at his lips.

“You’ll think I’m weird. And clingy. And jealous. Honestly I shouldn’t even be saying any of this right now but I make bad decisions at 3 A.M. I guess.”

“Hey, you can tell me anything.” Keefe started to reach his hand out to Dex before remembering he shouldn’t read his emotions. Dex grabbed it before he could pull away. A lot of sadness and hurt there. He quickly stopped reading, though their hands stayed locked. 

“It’s just...there’s this person. This guy. And...and I thought maybe he liked me but now I think he has a boyfriend. I’m not sure though.”

Keefe’s heart dropped. “Well...boyfriend status can be changed.”

Dex chuckled. “I don’t know, they have nicknames for each other and everything.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Looks serious.”

It was silent for a moment, then Dex spoke.

“Look...don’t worry about it, alright? It’s really no big deal. I’ll get over it, I guess.”

“Maybe he likes you back.”

“I highly doubt it. I’m...I’m not good enough for him. I’m just a servant. He deserves someone better.”

“Why does being a servant mean you’re bad? I’ve met some nobles that are real assholes. You’re way better than all of those fuckers.”

Dex laughed again, wow Keefe could listen to that forever. 

Dex sighed. “You know what? Screw it.”

He seemed to steel himself before saying his next sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. 

“Are you dating Fitz?”

“What?” Keefe laughed awkwardly. “No, no, no. He’s just a friend.”

“Oh. Then...who were you talking about at the gardens? I- I thought it was Fitz and you guys got together and-”

“No, goodness no. Fitz is great and all but...well he’s just not my type. And he’s been dating Tam for a while now.”

“Oh I uh...I didn’t notice.” Dex’s face flushed furiously. “Who were you talking about then?”

Keefe met his eyes. “Depends, who were you talking about?”

He didn’t answer but his silence spoke more than any words could.

Keefe scooted closer and cupped Dex’s face in his hand. He looked into the boys periwinkle eyes.

“Dex, can I kiss you?”

“Please?”

And they did.

When Keefe heard descriptions of kissing the same gender, they always said that it felt wrong somehow. But this...this only felt right. Like he had been waiting his whole life for the moment when he met the gardener boy’s cracked lips. They weren’t soft, and the kiss was a bit awkward, but it just felt...correct. Keefe chased the kiss slightly when they finally had to pull away. 

A shy smile spread across Dex’s face.

Keefe leaned back in.

~*~

Keefe walked out onto the newly-built stage in front of the castle and looked upon his people. His ceremonial robe was itchy and too large for him.

Cassius was no where to be seen. He had just...run away. The day of the wedding was the day he broke. The kingdom had been sovereignless for the last month, coronations couldn't be rushed. 

Typically the previous king would place the crown upon the head of the new ruler. Because Cassius seemed to run away in the night with nothing more than a clump of riches, Keefe got to choose who would crown him. 

“Friends and subjects of the Kingdom of Eternalia,” Oralie started. “Today, we crown a new ruler. A ruler to put the people first. A ruler who will not sleep until every one of his people is fed. A ruler to unite us.”

Keefe never realized how long winded Oralie was. Looking into the crowd, he spotted Sophie. She wore a sour expression.

Sophie never was a fan of Oralie, she wouldn’t tell him why. 

“Prince Keefe has shown a care for his people deeper than any king before him.”

She could say that again. Keefe found Dex in the crowd, absolutely beaming.

“In the time I have had the honor of teaching him in my lessons, he has shown a willingness to learn. An ability to adapt. And a knowledge of the system as well as its successes and failures deeper than anyone else his age.

And yes, it is truly a shame that a king must be crowned this young, but I have no doubt that in time he will do right by our great kingdom.”

Oralie walked over to him, her pink flowy dress trailing behind her. She picked up the ceremonial crown off the pillow that a servant was holding.

“Prince Keefe of Eternalia, do you promise to uphold the law and do what is right for your people to the best of you abilities?”

“I do.”

“And do you promise to preserve the honor of our nation?”

“I do.”

A loud voice came from the crowd.

“AND DO YOU PROMISE TO NOT LET CASSI-ASS BACK INTO THE THRONE ROOM?” Keefe could tell it was Marella, but no one else had to know that.

He cracked a smile. “I do.”

Oralie chuckled too.

“In that case, Keefe Sencen of Eternalia, with this crown I deem you King of Eternalia. May you have a long and peaceful reign.”

The heavy crown was placed upon his head. The crowd cheered and chanted, his friends yelled the loudest. Keefe saw as Fitz lifted Biana on his shoulders, they all hugged and screamed excitedly. 

Who he noticed most of all was Dex. His bright smile in that moment was worth everything he’d been through. 

Maybe he had found someone he didn’t mind being with.

~*~

Like most days, it was a somewhat quiet day at the castle. 

Keefe looked up from his painting to study the gardens, once called the Queen’s Gardens, but that was ages ago. The wall that once surrounded the beautiful landscape was knocked down a very long time ago. 

Keefe smiled as he spotted Dex tending to some ivy that had grown on one of the ancient statues. Even being a king couldn’t keep his husband from assisting the gardeners. 

Tomorrow, some old friends were visiting. That in itself wasn’t particularly special, as they visited at least twice a year (usually more), but tomorrow was special because it was the anniversary of the Great Wedding Destruction as historians had come to call it. 

How many years had it been? 300? 400? One tends to forget. 

After 50 years or so, they admitted to planning the whole event. By then, Keefe had already convened with the councillors to pass same gender marriage and gotten married to Dex. The law couldn’t exactly do much, it had been a while and no one was injured so any fear of being charged with treason was history.

A few minutes later, Dex trudged into Keefe’s art studio. 

“Hey lovey, do you know where I put the high-power garden clippers?”

“I hope in your lab, but you might want to check the kitchens.”

“Why would they be in the kitchens?”

“Heard some buzzing coming from there and last time I saw the nieces they had frosting all over their faces.”

Chaos ran in the Dizznee family. 

Dex sighed as they heard a loud bang followed by an “Oops.” from downstairs. 

“Gosh if Rex doesn’t pick up his children soon...I won’t do anything but I’ll be sour about it.”

Keefe chuckled. “You might want to go check on them, wouldn’t want them to break your invention. If they haven’t already.”

Dex hummed noncommittally. “Whatcha drawing?”  

“Just a boring landscape...that happens to include a dragon.”

Dex leaned over the easel. “It’s a very pretty boring landscape that happens to include a dragon.”

“Thank you very much, dearest.” Keefe leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Now you may want to actually check on the girls. I don’t think Elwin can heal severed fingers.”

“Yeah, okay.”

As he walked from the room that used to be Cassius’ office he yelled, “Emily! Leah! Please don’t be killing each other-”

Keefe just smiled. He did that a lot nowadays. 

He hoped these days would last forever.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Alright, Period Cramps just set in and Im looking for songs anyway so Im gonna be listening to every RWBY Song (V1-V7) in chronological order and rank them, starting with the worst. Lets go!

Caffeine: Thank god the team with the Nazi-based leader has the shittiest song so far.

Celebrate: Why tf is this here

Shine: Ehhhh. I dont really know why but the vibes were all off, somehow. The fact that really dislike Jaune (and as an extension, Arkos) doesn't help either.

Forever Fall: This song was 5 minutes long and it felt like 20

Brand New Day: I barely even registered that

Fear: not the worst

Lets Get Real: Either Im too tired or the songs are getting worse

War: Im ranking this one higher because it wasnt over 4 minutes

Bmblb: All the love songs are so generic

Dream Come True: Im listening to all these songs in the form of Lyric Videos and the art used in this one made me think 'Oh, a Jaune Song... Great. Well, maybe we'll get Jaune pining after Phyrrah now! Yknow, to balance it out. A cute lil song of him pining for a nice girl might me like him a bit more!' and guess what. It wasnt that. It was another Arkos Song from Phyrrahs perspective. AND this one had unnecessary Girl-Hate towards Weiss! For no reason! The only reason its above Shine is because they atleast got the vibes right this time.

Not Fall In Love With You: I think Im just not a big fan of the love songs.

Boop: It was pretty cute but nothing to write home about

Until The End: slow piano

Touch The Sky: Its not that bad, its just that Im tired and this song is too goddamn long

This Time (From Shadows II): A just fine song for a shitty arc

I Burn: I liked fine, until they started rapping.

Like Morning Follows Night: I thought this was gonna be one of the better love songs, then he started rapping.

Smile: All this does is make me question how Ilia was in the wrong even more. Sounded alright though.

The Triumph: Eh, pretty unremarkable opening for an unremarkable volume

This Will Be The Day: A very promising start! There's honestly not much to say here

From Shadows: It was fine. I liked the overall sound but the lyrics and the singing are just a bit too edgy for me.

Bad Luck Charm: Someone in the comments under the lyrics video said "looks like someone found his middleschool poetry" and honestly, yeah.

I May Fall: Hey, yknow how the FoB was apparently meant to happen in Volume 1? Yeah. Overall, I thought it was pretty alright. (You can probably already tell that Im not too big of a fan of the louder, more energetic songs so far.....

Trust Love: This is by no means a problem I have with only this song, but I hate how theyre all like "oh this isnt some FaIrYtAlE kid, this is real n dark n shit" as if RWBY isnt the least dark and least subversive story Ive seen in recent time

Rising: Alright but unremarkable

Miracle: Another alright but unremarkable one. At this point I feel like listening to these songs is frying my brain

Ignite: I was just gonna say its an alright Yang Song but that rap...

Big Metal Shoe: I can appreciate some fairy tale references

Gold: The chorus got a bit repetitive but I thought it was pretty cute

Home: Another cute lil family song! This one was kinda long though

Lionized: I really appreciate the vibe of this song

All Our Days: Adorable! I didnt really expect a Taiyang Song but this was pretty nice

Sacrifice: Not really much go say about this one, I thought it was fine

Neon: I feel like I just got aggressively flexed on in the nicest, yet most condescending way possible

Lusus Naturae: Very edgy, but in a way that I can appreciate more

Red Like Roses I: I really like the sound of this one! I kinda wish we had more lyrics, but this was the song used in the Red Trailer so Im assuming it was made to compliment the action more than anything. At the start and end there was this series of notes, that Im assuming is gonna be the Leitmotiv? Either way, Im curious how theyll use it

All Things Must Die: I feel like this song is definitely at its best during the slower bits

Lets Just Live: First of all, I cant believe they live-laugh-loved us. They kept mentioning like, stories and how 'this isnt your TYPICAL fairytale', I could practically feel the writers being like "Huh, huuuuuuuh? Arent we CLEVER? Yes we are, yes we are!" But other than it was mostly fine. A bit long, maybe.

Armed And Ready: Pretty alright Yang Song, I felt like it was just a bit too long

It's My Turn: Not much to say, I thought it was a fine Weiss Song

Nevermore: I think its good

Wings: I really enjoyed this song! Caseys voice is lovely and I think its a very good Blake Song

Indomitable: I liked this one, but I feel like its mainly because the line "the spirit is indomitable" reminds of Flame from VRAINS

When It Falls: This song is trying very hard to convince you that RWBY is Dark Now. And given that Im pretty sure this is V3s opening, I guess it fits. Oh well, it still sounded pretty nice.

One Thing: A real slappin song thats going straight to my YGO-playlist as well

All That Matters: Very neat song about Yang's conflicting feelings on Blake's return. Shame theyre literally not conveyed at all in the show.

Die: Very agressive title, but okay. I also enjoyed this one, who wouldve guessed. I love this whole vibe of Desperate Heroism In A World In Ruin, yknow? Its there in Time To Say Goodbye and Red Like Roses II (two of my favourite songs so far) too. Though it is quite dissapointing that the show never really matched it.

Hero: I dont get how people can look at this and go "yeah, Ironwood was clearly always a tyrant who never even remotely cared for others". Also Caleb Hyles my beloved

Time To Say Goodbye: Another very nice song! I also think the foreshadowing in the third verse (yknow the slow one) was quite well done. The only real issue is, that the plot point its foreshadowing is stupid as hell

The Path To Isolation: Why is Weiss a better character in her songs?

Divide: This song is trying very hard to convince you that RWBY is Dark Now pt 2. It is a banger though, so its fine.

Mirror Mirror: Funfact: This was technically the first RWBY-Thing Ive ever consumed! A Youtuber named Strawbelly made a german cover of this song (and the songs from the other trailers, I believe) and it was one of my favourites for a while. Ive also already listened to some of Weiss' other songs and I remember enjoying them too. I can definitely already tell that I prefer Caseys voice in the slower songs, so I really hope this keeps up

This Life Is Mine: Yoooooooooo, Caseys voice was amazing in this one(especially at the very start)! This is one of the Weiss Songs I listened to before I even watched RWBY and what can I say, I loved it back then and I love it now

I'm The One: Oh, this was absolutely lovely. For the first few seconds I thought I wouldnt like this one, but its a banger! I love the lyrics too, theyre very clever I think

Red Like Roses II: DUDE, I adored this! I did not expect there to be lyrics for Summer at all and I was so pleasently surprised! Sandra's voice was lovely, and I really hope I'll get to hear her again. But on a slightly more negative note, I feel like this is really where the whole 'RWBYs Songs Characterize The Protagonists In A More Compelling Way Than The Show Does'-Problem starts.

I originally wanted to write some kind of conclusion but Im tired and wanna read angst fics. Have a good night!

[silver-wield]

If you don't yet have an analysis of when Cloud saves Tifa from the collapsing staircase, I'd like to hear it!

Sorry this one took awhile, Nonny, I was gonna do it yesterday, but I got super tired and then I was gonna do it earlier but I got pissed off and had to walk away from the internet before I threw my computer through a window.

So, the collapsing staircase aka the cloti hand grab. Bring it!

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be long and awesome! Because I saw things and I have suspicions!

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.

You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Please check my master post to see if I've already covered your question, thanx

Let's mosey!

Recap time!

Let's backtrack a tiny bit first. Cloud's making his way up the pillar, had his bro moment with Biggs – damn you Square – and he's heading up to where Barret is on the top level.

Reno and Rude are in their chopper, throwing shade at Shinra while doing their jobs. I love how idgaf Reno is during this bit. Like, honey, you not even trying.

As Cloud comes into view on the staircase, Reno spots him and it's time for revenge! Nothing personal, bitch!

Ok, nothing very special here. SOLDIER!Cloud taking a look about for whatever resources he has to hand – none – and we've got Reno in the background waiting for him to get in range. (Yall also almost ended up with my gif of Nyx Ulric loool he pretty but Cloud’s prettier)

Reno's impatient. He fusses with the joy stick, drums his fingers, then puts his arms behind his head. The fact he's done this last move suggests he has no doubt he'll be gunning Cloud down sooner or later. We can see Rude keeping his eyes front – you can just catch the direction of his gaze behind the left lens of his sunglasses.

HOLY SHIT! Rude blinked! Like several times in quick succession! (gotta slow the frames down to 0.25 to catch it btw) Now, this could be nothing since Rude is very hard to read and has even smaller micro-expressions than Cloud does, but when someone blinks like that it usually means they recognise the person they're looking at. He's seen Tifa running up the stairs. I don't know why he might recognise her, aside from having a headcanon about it, but I'm telling you, I saw him do several rapid blinks when he caught sight of her, then draw Reno's attention to her. His eyes behind those sunglasses are ever so slightly wider than usual btw. It's really hard to see, but there seems to be a definite look of “I know you” about him.

Reno shooting at her might have been a mistake on Rude’s part. He could have forgotten himself in that moment of recognition and didn't mean to direct Reno to a new target. That would explain why he pulled away from the attack and made up an excuse about his hand slipping.

This makes me excited to find out if Rude knows her and what the deal is with that OG crush. My headcanon? He's a former student of Zangan too and helped get Tifa to Midgar when she was injured. She doesn't remember it since she was at death's door for most of the trip. I saw a bit saying Zangan had to use a lot of healing materia on her and she stayed in the hospital too, so it's reasonable she wouldn't recall Rude. But, we don't know for sure yet, which is why headcanon.

Still exciting though!

Cloud's heard footsteps on the stairwell, so turns to see who it is and you can just catch a glimpse of Tifa appearing through the metal slats. This is the first time Cloud spots her. The camera then pans up to the helicopter again where Reno prepares to shoot Tifa.

I don't wanna say for sure that Rude's jaw clenched here. The lighting is suspect because of the angle it strikes his face. He did something. I noticed something, but it's so utterly subtle I can't tell what. He either clenched his jaw for a brief second or his lips firmed, again for a brief second. It's probably easier to catch if you slow the frames down then don't look at Rude and rely on your peripheral vision to see it. That's how I end up replaying things a million times because I saw something and then have to spend half an hour trying to find it again lol

Reno definitely smirked, I caught that no problem.

So yeah, moving on from Rude's super micro-expressions, before Reno's even finished speaking he's pulling the helicopter away from Tifa. Like, Reno's still saying “bullets” when it happens. That's a very snap decision, especially with how fast Reno talks usually. And the entire time Reno's speaking Rude is looking at Tifa. I mean, he's expressionless – he could give Cloud lessons – but there's also emotion coming from him. I kinda feel a bit sad looking at him in this screen.  

Guess we'll get more Rude backstory in part 2!

Reno bangs his head and I always laugh at that part. Get rekt!

Cloud's all da fuq? since it's so very obvious Reno was lined up to shoot and then suddenly not. But there's no time to think about why because Tifa's still running up the stairs.

Omg I'm so good I even impress myself sometimes! Check either side of the screen. Tifa at one edge and Cloud at the other, already in motion to save her as the first bullets from Reno's miss start destroying the staircase. You could not get closer to the start of this catch!

Tifa's foot is on the second step here. That's not even a second after the last screen. Her sub isn't even fully solid that's how soon she yelled for Cloud. Going by common sense, the staircase is collapsing to her right and she needs to get up another 12 steps? In a couple of seconds? Yeah, she knew that wasn't happening. She needed him. I question how she knew he was there. She couldn't see him from where she was. Maybe she guessed the chopper was shooting at him, but it could've been anyone from Avalanche. She's not looking up the stairs, her eyes are at her feet.

I think she yelled for Cloud because that's who she wanted. Like Aerith said to follow her heart, Tifa's heart cried out for Cloud when she was in danger.

Well, if that isn't a look of surprise right there. She really didn't expect him to be right there at that moment. She was screaming for him, hoping he'd save her and there he was. Her face goes from this tense “I'm about to die” look, to this wide eyed shock that there he is, right in front of her, reaching for her. Right when she needed him most. If he wasn't there she'd have been shot and the last thing she said would've been his name. That's how important it is that she screamed for him there. It wasn't that she knew he was waiting for her. She didn't know he was there at all. She just wanted him to be the one to save her so desperately and he came through.

So I bet a lot of people have looked at this so romantically that he's reaching for her. Hell yeah in a way, but what makes it even better is when you remember you're looking at Cloud through Tifa's eyes. This is how she sees Cloud looking at her in this moment, all heroic and brave and just right there for her. That confident stance, totally out from behind any kind of cover, just waiting and reaching for her. It's funny she never calls him a hero in the game, except as a motivator at the end when he's dangling off a building, because he absolutely is pulling off the hero moment here. She called his name and he appeared to save her. It's exactly how she said during their promise.

He is taking her hand. That's his fingers wrapping around hers, while hers lay open against his palm. She is the passive party in this hold, while Cloud is the active one. She could've mutually grabbed him, but she didn't. This is him saving her. This is not an equal grab. This is Cloud grabbing Tifa. Only after his fingers close over her hand do hers do the same back.

Cloud backs up, dragging Tifa up the last of the stairs to safety, while keeping himself safe as well. There, he spins her around and puts his free hand on her back, while keeping hold of her other hand in his. He doesn't let her go at all during that move. In fact, you can also see that Tifa now has both hands on Cloud. The one he took is still holding his and she's put her other hand on his arm. She was likely very scared during that moment he saved her and she's holding onto him as an anchor to feel safe. Cloud saved her and she feels safe with him.

Cloud's expression is wary and alert, since he's focused on the danger, while Tifa's is scared. Just because she can fight, doesn't make her a fighter.

Cloud lets got of Tifa's hand so he can lean out from behind their safe spot and check on the danger, but he's left his other hand on her back. During this moment, Tifa actually leans back which would increase that contact.

Her face is quite blurred since we're focusing on Cloud in the foreground, but her expression seems to hint at a “thank god I have you” look.

Oh look, the camera refocused. Definitely a “thank god I have you” look, not to mention the tears in her eyes. She was terrified.

Also, that hand is still on her back.

But, she can't be weak in front of Cloud. She wants to prove she's his equal, that she doesn't need a hero. She just wants him. I mean, before he turns to look at her, she's staring at him like he set the stars in the sky for her.

As he takes his hand off her back and pulls out his “what the hell?” line, which is clearly him mad at her for being so reckless and almost dying on him, she gives him a brave smile and puts on her own persona as someone who can totally handle all this chaos. Scared? Tifa? Noooo.

She says “nice catch” all casual like she wasn't petrified and screaming his name less than thirty seconds ago and he is not impressed by this one bit. He's unconvinced Tifa's as blasé about this as she's acting, which is why he continues to challenge her. Which isn’t the first time he’s done it. He doesn’t let her bullshit him.

Basically, she's trying to be brave and support him, but he doesn't want her to put herself in danger because he wants to protect her. They're both trying to prove they're worthy of each other and doing stupid shit in the process.

This is actually a very good moment for them because we know Cloud pretty much does whatever Tifa wants because he wants to make her happy, but this shows he's not above arguing with her or challenging her when she's being reckless and endangering herself. He's not got her on a pedestal. She's not some unobtainable dream woman. She's real to him and he feels comfortable getting mad and showing negative emotions to her. That's why he can call her crazy without worrying it'll sour her opinion of him.

Remember, Tifa is non-confrontational by nature. She doesn't like fighting and will usually agree or let things go for the sake of an easy life. But, she disagrees with Cloud or tells him off several times throughout the game. This shows she's comfortable having confrontations with him. She's not worried about upsetting him and being rejected during a typical interaction. She worries about scaring him away when she’s unsure he’ll stay, but once he’s said he’ll stick around she relaxes and doesn’t seem as worried about him leaving her. It was only when she tried to move their relationship from friendship to more during alone at last that she worried about rejection. 

Tifa accepts Cloud's feelings, even the negative ones and deals with them in a mature way. She doesn't dismiss him or ignore how he feels. She just relates her feelings to his and points out that he's still going up the pillar, so she will too. She wants to stay by his side. Her heart led her to him. If he's going, then so is she. Her expression is earnest here. There's nothing more than what she says. She's not leaving. Nothing can change her mind.

OK WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, RUDE?! DO YOU KNOW TIFA?!

He swallowed! His mouth tensed and he swallowed! Lips pulled down. Behind those sunglasses I caught movement. There's definitely something going on with Rude here and it's something that Reno doesn't know about since he doesn't recognise Tifa and he has no idea why Rude did that.

Ok, one last quick shot of yet more unnecessary touching between Cloud and Tifa. Why is he doing that? Literally to keep her within arm's reach. She said she's not leaving, so he's gonna keep her safe no matter what. To do that, he needs to know exactly how far away from him she is. Also, he wants to touch her lol

Conclusion

Well, there was lots of good stuff hidden in there and I'm even more convinced that Rude knows Tifa after I caught some of his micro-expressions. I'm excited to see if it's true in part 2, but more so the fact that we're gonna get the Turks characters' fleshed out compared to OG. We've already learned that Reno while not giving a fuck, also actually really gives a fuck. I love him. He's such a snarky butt.

But, this was about Cloud and Tifa, not Rude.

Yeah, she literally couldn't see him at any point when she was running up that staircase. She screamed his name because that's who she wanted in that moment to appear and save her. The surprise on her face is genuine. She didn't know he was there. Cloud's in full “I must save Tifa” mode, so it's real!Cloud motivating SOLDIER!Cloud to do what he doesn't think he's capable of. They then have a lover's spat about Tifa being reckless and show the healthy disagreement side to their relationship by not screaming and shouting at each other or being sarcastic – like Cloud is with someone else. While Cloud might not like Tifa going with, he understands her need to. She's also put it in terms that he can understand, but part of him is very unhappy about it, which is why in that last shot we see him with his hand on her arm ready to protect her at a moment's notice. He's not letting her out of sight or arm's reach.

It's some damn good solid relationship building from them during a tense moment.

[cloudsrust-ocs]

Please, please tell me more about your demon oc, I love them and their chaotic energy so much 💚

Aaaa oh my,,, first of all- thank you?? Second- oh geez they are gonna be a mess to talk about;; especially when a lot of the info is bound to either other characters or my own lore- Weeeelp- here goes nothing!

-They are part of a group of 7 “demons” total and they are one of the most fleshed out among that group of ocs of mine. (Note: all of them have either mixed or completely neutral pronouns- in Aidivni’s case they are they/him)

-He is an Envy demon, a category of demon who is allured/especially fixated onto who suffers from that particular vice. -Demons in general cannot lie- only angels can- so Aidivni himself cannot say anything but the truth. This led him to choose.. less diplomatic routes when dealing with mortal preys, not that he isn’t good with words- he just loses his patience and gets bored quite quickly. -Their clothes are an extension of their body. This means that they can move and extend their ribbon like an another set of tiny arms (making them have a total of 6 limbs). This also means that they can manifest any garments on themselves- except metals (The reason they pin their “skin”, they cannot make hard buttons.) -They enjoy elegant yet eccentric styles when it comes to fashion and they often get artsy with the shapes of their clothing.

- His movements are mostly snappy and sudden, he seems to have problems staying in one position for too long- usually either circling around who he is talking with or simply floating/pacing all around the place. -He is TALL- an average human would come up to only under his chest. He is only the third/fourth tallest among the other demons though. -They’re absolutely unable to feel shame and they also have no idea of what personal space is. They are able to feel remorse for certain actions though, but they will not show it.

-They enjoy and are fascinated by pain- in any of its forms (Physical/emotional, inflicting/receiving). It’s a trait I choose to give them following the idea that envy hurts both the person who experiences it and who is around them- but also because of the “I want to feel/have it too- no matter what it is” thought process.

-He may like the look of scars onto his body, but if someone dares to touch his face/mask things are gonna go grim real quick. He always keeps it in pristine conditions. -He loooooves the taste of Soul Flowers (the flower like “scar” tissue the soul creates to mend itself), a delicacy among demons.

-He has two bladed weapons, a pair of huge scissors and a machete. The machete is to... well- “create and opening” for the soul to exit and the scissors are to either harvest Soul Flowers or to severe the bond with the body- so that he can take it (Explaining why and for what they are used would be a whole tangent so I better not start dhsgdh). His nails are also weapon worthy- but he only uses them to mark his targets/preys, it’s like a sort of bond.

-Besides all of their demon shenanigans and behaviours though- they are quite the awkward and chaotic type when they have to act “natural” when out in the mortal world. Stript them of their thirst for pain and the whole souls stuff and they’re quite the goofy jerk kind of lad who just runs their mouth a whole LOT-

-His latest marked target is Gabriele 

(This other mask object head right up here-) But- their relationship slowly became a bit more complicated than that. Don’t want to say too much about that yet though eh oh;;;

-They had a one sided affair with a Pride demon (the second most fleshed out among the demons)- that ended on quite rough terms. (gosh this sounds like me gossiping lmao)

Some more light hearted things... mhh-

-They have an interest in bugs, especially mantids and beetles. They feel connected to them, so much so they sometimes base their wardrobe on their designs.

-Demons aren’t picky when it comes to food and they also don’t distinguish between edible and inedible. What I’m going at is that- food wise- they’d be the type to eat the teabag and throw away the tea.

-If they are worried to hurt someone they do NOT want hurt, they will use their ribbon/tiny arms to hug them instead of their clawed hands.

-The highest form of trust he can show is letting someone touch his face.

Mhhh- think I info dumped enough? Nothing else comes to my mind rn ahah;;

Hope ya still like ‘em even after all this mess dsgshdgs