#i love partners in crime and killing machines who get to be soft with each other. i love the idea of love possibly undooming the narrative

[yanlei-a]

my toxic trait is i read everything y'all write and i eat it up and i love your ships like even though i probably wouldn't care about them if not for y'all writing i'd read your yelling about them gladly and i'd read 10 page essays about them but then whenever i have brainrot about my own ships i just think i'll be annoying yelling about them 💁‍♂️

[astaroth1357]

Long Distance Longing with the Brothers

Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, implied starvation

Intro:

The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...

Lucifer

Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?

Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.

And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work. 

He wanted a… "vacation."

Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.

Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…

His first vacation was sure to be paradise. 

Mammon 

Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…

Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.

Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?

It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.

Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?

He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.

He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.

The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….

But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...

Leviathan 

He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…

Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.

Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…

For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...

After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…

The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.

When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.

To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...

In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.

Satan 

Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.

Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…

But like that would stop him.

He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.

He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.

Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.

But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?

Asmodeus 

If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.

He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!

This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...

When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…

The world is full of surprises, ain't it?

No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.

Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...

Beelzebub

Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...

So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.

It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.

A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.

Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...

Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.

His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.

Belphegor 

Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.

Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.

It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...

There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged… 

Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?

With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.

There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...

[sokkisky]

~please bunny come back to me~

Want to make a request?: https://forms.gle/NyZgUcqkCPzHRvVn6

Ghost School RP Discord: https://discord.gg/5mschvebTn

Rating: SFW (Angst to Fluff) 

Pairing: Tamaki Amajiki x Pro Hero Y/N 

Warnings: Serious injury, arguing (tense words) 

A/N: Hi you beautiful milky buds! How are you doing? I’m so grateful to have each and every single one of you. I have been getting so many questions lately and here requests are ALWAYS open. I do post DAILY. Just to clear some things up. 

If you have a million ideas you want me to write, create a million requests I really don’t mind. Not to mention if you want a request for another anime, go for it! If I don’t write for that anime I will tell you. You’ll have the most luck with these to name a few 

~MHA/BNHA 

~Fairy Tail 

~Haikyu! 

~Blue Exorcist

To name a few. If you want to ask about another feel free to ask me! Today’s request reads like this. 

Hi! Its me @megustaitachi again lol. I LOVED the request I asked you a few days ago, you wrote it SO SOFT AHH PRECIOUS😭💓. I want to ask you a question, if you don't mind I'll be here making request of my favs characters hehe, is there's a name we can call you? Obviously if you feel comfortable, I would like to know, thanks! *Now the real request* Can I request an scenario or a series*if u want* when Pro Hero Tamaki and his Pro Hero s/o have a fight and the next day y/n have a fight with a villain and they fell like in coma and Tamaki is sad because they didn't apologize for the fight but then y/n wakes up and they apologized and end up cuddling. <3 *yes, I love angst that ends in cuddles ⊂(・﹏・⊂)* Thanks! <3

<3 I said it last time and I'll say it again, I LOVE YOUR WORK KWHWOW💓🙌🏼

Thank you, thank you so much for this request! It’s so angsty ah my poor bby tama. Also you can call me Sokki! Sok, Milky, are a few of my nicknames too so I don’t mind if you call me those either. 

I’m thinking I might make part two of this but I am not sure either. If you want one tell me though!

I love love love LOVE you guys and please please remember to take care of yourselves, be kind to yourself and treat yo self! You are worth it all, don’t ever forget how special and important you are! Now I don’t want to keep you waiting for too long, I hope this meets your expectations. Enjoy!

Part Two 

“You shouldn’t have done that!” 

You sat on the couch, your head in your hands as Tamaki frantically paced in front of you. You knew he was just upset, just worried, but there was no way you could’ve predicted the villain’s next move. You didn’t know that moving to the spot that you did would put you in danger. 

“Tamaki I know I messed up! Let it go!” you finally shouted back. Your head rising from your hands. Tamaki stopped pacing and turned to look at you. 

“Let it go?” he asked, his voice rising. “You nearly got yourself killed, like you were trying to hurt yourself.” he said, his voice shaky. He hated arguing with you. He hated it so much. He wanted to sit down and cuddle you, forget this ever happened but you could’ve gotten hurt! 

“Oh I wanted to get hurt?” you said back in frustration, becoming a bit outraged. Tamaki nodded as both of your phones rang. You answered with a frustrated sigh. 

Another villain was on the loose and they needed the two of you. 

Being a pro hero dating a pro hero was hard, but being a pro hero fighting your pro hero significant other and then having to fight with them is different. You sighed, turning to Tamaki heading towards the door. He followed behind you. 

“Are you gonna hurt yourself again this time?” he asked, annoyed slightly. You ran out in front of him, Tamaki following behind as you ran to the crime scene. “Watch out I just might, then you won’t have such an incompetent partner huh Tama?” you said sarcastically. Tamaki sighed. 

“Wouldn’t that be nice” he murmured to himself. You almost stopped running and he could feel the regret sink in about what he said. You turned to him, opening your mouth to say something, but you ended up just shaking your head and continuing to run to the crime scene.

~~~

All you hear was Tamaki shouting out to you, “Bunny watch out!” as you shielded an innocent bystander before you were engulfed in a ball of blue flame, the fire exploded into a terrible blue explosion. 

Your world went dark and you felt like you were in a void. You could feel rustling beneath you, you saved someone’s life, but at what cost? You fell back, feeling your back hit the paved road. Your eyes couldn’t open, they were closed. Your mouth, your lungs, gasping for air as you felt yourself slip. You heard voices, 

‘Bunny! Bunny!’ 

You could faintly feel something on your shoulders. But then it all faded, diminishing into darkness. 

~~~

Tamaki wandered the streets a bouquet of roses in his hand. Today was supposed to be your anniversary together. He walked, the rain beginning to lightly dribble down, his tears falling down his cheeks. He missed you, dearly, and he couldn’t get those horrible things he said to you out of his head.

2 months passed by now and Tamaki was doing mediocre hero work. Every day he’d look at your costume and hold it close to him, crying alone in your lonely apartment. The apartment the two of you shared. 

He wanted everything of yourself. He kept it around the house, sometimes he’d go through your clothes, trying to see if any scent of you still lingered behind. He'd eat your favorite snacks and watch the shows and movies you’d like. Your apartment walls were covered in pictures of you, your Pro Hero merch was everywhere. Anyone would think he’d be a crazed super fan but he was just in pain. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and apologize over and over again. 

But he couldn’t. 

His alarm went off on his phone and he quickly grabbed his jacket and threw on his shoes, rushing out of the apartment.

~~~

“Welcome back Tamaki.” the brown haired lady said. She clicked her fingers along her keyboard as she sat behind the desk of the hospital. “You know the way, and you’re here just on time. Visiting hours have started so go on ahead.” she said, giving him a small smile. 

Tamaki nodded and made his way through the hospital to the ICU. 

He made his way to your room, opening the door. You were hooked up to dozens of machines and monitors, many lines moving into your arms and chest. Tamaki was here every day he could be, but it didn’t get any easier. He realized he forgot the roses at home but it didn’t matter much. He pulled up a seat, sitting beside you like he normally did. 

He rubbed your forehead and cheeks gently, tears rolling down his eyes. He felt the emotions bubble in him all over again and his head plopped down on your chest, his hands beside his head. He sobbed uncontrollably. His body shook as the blankets muffled his cries. The room had been changed for you, what with all of the plush blankets, soft pillows, plushies, and clothes he brought here for you. He brought you a switch even though you couldn’t play it. He bought a mini fridge and snack basket so he could fill them when you woke up. 

But you weren’t waking up. 

The pain in him was almost unbearable. His muffled apologies filled the otherwise quiet room. He couldn’t help it, not able to ever hold it in when he was next to you. 

But then he stopped. 

He could only feel it slightly but he sat up, his eyes going wide as he stared right into yours. He was frozen in place, was he dreaming? Your beautiful eyes were staring back at him. Tamaki remembered what the doctors told him what would’ve happened when you woke up. You’d be confused, not sure who he was or what was going on. Tamaki quickly rushed up and hit the button requesting a doctor. He sat back next to you holding your hand. 

Your finger moved again. 

You were back to him, and he wouldn’t let you go again. 

To be continued...

[heyheydidjaknow]

Hiya! I have a request for an x reader songfic. Snap out of it by the Arctic monkeys gives me so many 2012 Donnie vibes. Maybe one where the reader is in love with Donnie but he likes April and the reader wants Donnie to, you know, "snap out of it" and notice that maybe April isn't the best person towards him. It can end in unrequited love or with a happy ending, that's for you to decide but I just really want to see this concept. Thanks! :>

(feel free to ignore this request if you want 👁️👁️)

Oh, I’m not about to turn away a chance to be pushed out into foreign territory. I admittedly hadn’t known what a songfic was until wikipedia and @kunimikat saved my ass, so this was fun-- and a bit scary-- to write. I hope you like it, even if it might not have been exactly what you were expecting.

April was your friend. She had been for a while, now, since she had moved to NYC. The two of you had come even closer after her kidnapping and initiation into the “Hamato Clusterfuck” as you had affectionately called it at first—you had wisely made a conscious effort to only get involved with them as far as you could throw them, sticking solidly to offering emotional support and half-decent food. At the beginning, you had, on multiple occasions, even begged her to stay out of it, trying to reason with her that getting herself killed by a psychotic armored man with an axe to grind for the crime of hanging out with four teenage shut-ins was an incredibly bad idea. When your logical arguments fell on deaf ears—her owing them apparently being her ball and chain—you had designated yourself as her supervisor to make sure she did not do something overly impulsive. She was reckless, overly trusting, immature, but you loved her like a sister. You balanced each other out.

One of the benefits of knowing someone for so long is that you learn things about them that they do not know about themselves. In April’s case, it had been that she was terrible at making up her mind

 What's been happenin' in your world?

You had borne witness to the love triangle transpiring between Donatello Hamato, Casey Jones and her for the better part of a year now. You were relieved that the two boys had backed off each other’s throats somewhat over the period, but it was as infuriating as it was fascinating to watch them fight over her like a chew toy. Of course, April had her preference between the two, favoring the hockey player mainly for his general normalcy, which was a decision you could approve of, but she had hesitated until recently to make that obvious to the other point because, in her words, “The last thing I want is to deal with is all of that awkwardness.” You could hardly blame her for her hesitation, but you thought it almost cruel not to make her feelings apparent to her lovestruck puppy.

 What have you been up to?

Donnie was the most tolerable of the five, the most normal in your opinion. He was an infatuated, insecure teenage boy with more an affinity towards machines and, best of all, seemed concerned for your friend, all things that you could get on board with. In your opinion, overbearingness is preferable to negligence in this case, and you were just happy that someone physically capable had her back. As such, when you were stuck at the lair for hours waiting for her lessons with Splinter to be over—you were her ride—you found yourself spending the most time around him, and as time went on, you started going out of your way to do so.

Seeing as April and Casey were your only other friends, it was natural you would get romantically attached. They—a couple by high school standards—approved of your crush, and all you told your guardian(s) was that they were smart, fit, and financially responsible, so they asked few questions.

You knew, logically, this was not a competition and that April had little interest in him.

But something about the way he gazed at her made you burn green with envy.

 I heard that you fell in love, or near enough.

His eyes were just so… wistfully longing. He watched as the redhead and her boyfriend played against Michelangelo and Raphael in a game of charades. His expression was just so soft, lips pursing and popping silently as he grieved from his seat in his lab.

It had been a downhill spiral on your end from there, and as your own attachment grew for him, his own depression worsened. Your eyes drifted from your friend as you tried to make him see that, no, the world was not ending because his first crush did not like him back. You would make subtle comments about how happy his brothers were, how happy she and Casey were together, how smart he was and how many people would die for a kind, loving, smart guy to come around and sweep them off their feet. This, again, fell on deaf ears; he would always comment on how, if he were such a catch, April would not have chosen Casey, like It is his fault for her having more of a taste in cocky, fun-loving guys than intelligent ones. Half of it was probably your lack of experience in subtlety, but no matter what you would try to say, whenever romance came up in conversation, his words turned sharp and bitter.

On that day, you just cracked.

 I gotta tell you the truth.

You walked over to the lab door, closing it in a single fluid motion. ‘I’m better at being blunt, anyways.’

He blinked; his trance was interrupted by the small slam.

“She’s not into you.”

“Huh?”

You crossed the room and placed your hand on the desk, expression stern and stone cold. “April,” you repeat. “She’s not interested.”

He did not meet your gaze. “You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually.” You leaned down to look him in the eye. “You aren’t her type. You’re supposed to be smart.” You placed the other on the back of his chair, arms cagging him in, almost. “ She has a boyfriend,” you continued, softer. “You know that, right?”

“I do.” He tapped the side of his thumb against the table absently, throat tight. “But what else do you suppose I do? Submit to the fact that I’ll be alone forever?” He looked up at you. “I know this may be hard for you to believe,” he continued, easily slipping out from under your arms, “but I don’t exactly have a ton of options. She’s the only person who’s ever looked at me like that; how am I supposed to move on from the only person who’s ever even given me a chance?”

 I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby.

 You rolled your eyes, turning to watch him as he crossed to the other side of the room. “That is some blatant bullshit,” you glared curtly.

“Is it, though?” His back was to you as he crouched down in front of his centrifuge, fiddling with it. “As someone who’s never—”

“So help me, if you go off about me not understanding being rejected and feeling like they’d die alone, I’ll rip your tongue out.” You stood back up properly.

“What would you know about it?” He followed suit, eyes locking on yours. “You have other people to choose from.”

“And you don’t?” You crossed your arms, smiling incredulously. “How do we differ, exactly?”

“Besides the obvious?”

You scoffed. “You’ve seen your brothers. Never stopped them.”

“And I’m happy for them, that they’re so charismatic as to be able to find partners so easily.” You could taste the bitterness in his words. “But I’m not them, in case you didn’t notice. That girl out there?” He pointed to the door. “She’s the first and only person in the universe who’s ever given me a second glance.”

“So you’re just fucking blind, now?” You heard your voice rise without your input.

“What’re you talking about?” His voice grew with yours.

“You’re lovesick,” you spat. “Snap out of it.”

 Snap out of it.

You ran your fingers through your hair. “Or maybe you’re just dense.” You felt a laugh rise in your throat. “I mean,” you gestured, “clearly picking up on verbal subtext isn’t your forte.”

You gave him five seconds. “What,” you continued, rubbing your face with your hands, “Are you—” You stopped. “You are, aren’t you?”

Nothing.

You took a slow breath, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. “Let me put it in simple, plain English for you.”

 I get the feelin' I left it too late, but baby—

 “As her friend? You’re a fucking creep.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Following her the way you did—wait your turn—” A finger interrupted his defense. “Following her the way you did? Objectively creepy. Staring at her all the time? Also fucking creepy.” You felt your nails dig into your skin. “Any person would call it as it is.”

He opened his mouth again to argue. You did not interrupt him this time, but he did not argue, the silence falling like a weighted blanket over the two of you.

“As your friend,” you continued, voice lowered, “as someone who cares about you, I know April, and she can’t give you what you want. It’s not her; she needs to be free, and I love her, but you’re looking for something that’s just not there.” Your voice was certain. “You’re looking for someone to spend your life with. I’m right, aren’t I?”

 Snap out of it.

 He was still for a moment, looking off into the ether. He nodded, face melancholy.

You walked over, resting a hand on his shoulder tentatively. “I’m not saying it’s stupid of you to not be over her. Again, I love her to bits, so I see the appeal.” You broke eye contact, trying to articulate exactly what you meant. “But I’m worried,” you explained slowly, “you’re only hung up on her because you’re scared of being alone. That’s not fair to her or yourself.”

“Do you know that?”

“No,” you admitted easily, “but you and I are the same way, and trust me, I’ve been around the heartbreak block.” You smiled, trying to relieve the tension.

That earned a chuckle. A small one, but a chuckle none the less.

You reached up, cupping his cheek in your hand. “There are seven billion people on this planet. Any one of them—myself included—would be lucky to have a life with you.”

 If that watch don’t continue to swing—

 A pause.

“Do you honestly believe that?”

You nodded, your thumb running along the line of his eye socket. “I do.”

 —or the fat lady fancies havin' a sing—

 You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his cheek gently.

 —I'll be here, waitin' ever so patiently—

 “Y/N!” You pulled back as you heard April calling your name. “We need a moderator!”

You started back towards the door, waving gently. “I wish you good tidings, Donatello.” You smiled quietly, serenity itself standing in the doorway. “May whoever is fortunate enough to call you their own bring you happiness. You deserve it.” You slipped out of his lab, running over to break them up.

Donatello rested his fingers on where your mouth had lit his skin. He felt a bittersweet smile fade onto his face.

—for you to snap out of it.

And that was when it began.

List of Works

[carllisle]

The Second Mrs Cullano 

As we all know, Esme Platt is not Carlisle Cullano’s first wife, nor is she his second - she is actually his third. But she is the love of his life, the reason for his breathing, and so when he marries for the second time, it’s clear that wives are nothing to soulmates. 

Esme Platt enjoys the wedding of Carlisle Cullano and the Second Mrs Cullano. 

Dedicated to my literal partner in this crime, @notquitetwilight, and to our collective projection onto cringe New Jersey mob show stereotypes. Special shoutout to @stregoni-benefici and @carlislesscarf.

Esme felt a soft kiss on her shoulder and smiled. Sun was pouring through the open windows of her bedroom and there was a soft breeze that lifted her hair. He was still here. He shouldn’t have been. 

“Good morning,” he whispered against her skin. “You smell so good.” 

Esme rolled onto her stomach and curled around her pillow with her smile broadening. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“You kicking me out?” 

“No. But I’ve got things to do, too, you know?” 

Carlisle lay next to her and stroked her caramel hair, his face close to hers on her pillow. She cracked open an eye and watched him watch her. “Can I stay with you?” he whispered. 

She shook her head. “Not for long. For breakfast, though, if you make it.”

“I don’t wanna leave this bed.” 

“You’re gonna have to at some point, baby. You’ve got responsibilities today.” 

“Tell me to stay, Esme. Tell me not to do it.” He ran a strong hand over her neck and gently wrapped it around her throat, fingers tilting her jaw to the side. 

She laughed quietly, sleep making her mind hazy. “No. I want you to have a wife and a family. You’ve always wanted that, but I haven’t. I still want to be me for a while yet.” 

“You wouldn’t stop being you just for being my wife.” 

Esme took the hand around her throat and brought it up to kiss. Carlisle closed her eyes at the touch of her lips. “We’ve talked about this, for years. Decades. I can be your person, but I can’t be your wife. I won’t be anyone’s wife again.” 

“I’m not anyone. Please, Esme. Marry me.” 

She stretched her arms up and laughed. “Not today!” But she rolled over and wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, loving him as best she could in the soft sunrise. 

After, they followed their usual routine of showering together and dressing. Since their days of teenage love they enjoyed the quiet of domesticity. Outside the walls of their homes wars raged on their streets but in her old house, in his sprawling estates, it was just them, and today was no different. He zipped her skirt and she buttoned his shirt and they walked arm in arm down the street for coffee and bagels. They took a booth at the back of the cafe, although it didn’t matter if anyone saw them - they had never been a secret. Besides, they both kept guns strapped to them and knives hidden in their jackets and coats. 

Esme leaned back in her chair, blowing steam off the top of her coffee. “You’re sure about this one?” 

Carlisle regarded her over his phone and considered the question. “Yeah. It’s gotta be someone, why not her?” 

“It doesn’t have to be someone,” she reminded him gently. “You could go it alone. Well, as alone as you will ever be. You’ve always got me.” 

“Yeah. But I want someone. I want a wife. And the wife I want doesn’t want me, so I gotta choose the next best thing. Besides, you know her family’s reputation, that’s nothing to turn my nose up at.” 

“Ever the pragmatist.” 

He gave her one of the smiles he saved just for her. “Aw, you hurt me, Es. I do like her. She’s got spirit, and she’s smart as hell. She likes the high life and she wants kids sooner rather than later, and… and she makes me laugh. She makes me feel wanted.” 

“I think most of the east coast wants you,” Esme said quietly, avoiding his gaze. It wasn’t that she was jealous - how could she be, when he made her feel so adored all the time? - but it irritated her that this woman was able to give him what he wanted, and she couldn’t. One marriage to the wrong man had ruined the institution for her and now not even Carlisle could heal that wound. Yes, her first husband had died violently at her hand for his transgression, but that wasn’t the point. The transgression had occured in the first place. That was frightening. 

“Don’t be angry, darling. You know it’s still you.” Carlisle reached over the table and stroked her hand and Esme felt safe again. She held his gaze and nodded slightly. “It’ll always be you. You’re mine, before anyone and everyone else.” 

She smiled, her mood improved. He had always been happy to declare his feelings with her, and even now, on the morning of his wedding to another woman, in a nondescript coffee shop, he made her feel like the most adored woman. On the middle finger of her right hand she still wore the first expensive ring he had ever bought her, and it cost as much as her parents’ house. It was a gaudy thing, a thick diamond set on a band of smaller cut gems that they had chosen together the day after she killed Charles. It was Carlisle’s promise to her - that no matter who else came along, no matter what the world threw at them, they would love each other before anyone and anything else. He wore a similar ring she bought him on his little finger of his right hand. They never took their rings off. His first wife had hated it - understandably - but she had got her share in the divorce when Carlisle had refused to forsake Esme. She looked down at the ring and it sparkled. She’d had it cleaned for the wedding today especially. 

“Are you sure me coming today is a good idea?” she asked after a long moment. 

He squeezed the hand he held. “Yeah. I need you there.”

“She’ll be mad.” 

“She’s always got something to be mad about. Besides, she knows the deal and you’re non-negotiable.”

“I don’t want to upset anyone on their wedding day, Carlisle.” 

He shifted his chair around the table and leaned closer to her. “What about me? You wanna upset me on my wedding day?” 

She bit her lip and grinned. “I never want to upset you.”

“Then be a good girl. Come for me.” He rested his hand on her thigh under the table and Esme glanced around the cafe. No one paid them any mind. “Look at me.”

She met her lover’s piercing gaze and bit her lip. 

“You gonna come for me?” 

She nodded and gasped quietly when he rewarded her with a kiss. Esme could taste the coffee on Carlisle’s lips. He wanted her, he needed her, and she would never let him down. 

Esme’s cousin begrudgingly helped her get ready for the wedding. She said it was indecent for the mistress to turn up, let alone in a red silk dress barely held together by strands of diamonds across the back, but Esme smugly told her the groom had bought it for her especially, and who was she to refuse him? As a precaution she strapped her Colt Python to her thigh - it was an old machine, temperamental, but it made her feel powerful and she had a more reliable weapon in her clutch, as well as blades hidden in her shoes - and touched up her hair. Curls pinned to her head, diamonds dripping from her ears, and Carlisle’s dress draped across her, Esme felt more sensual than ever. When she sat in the pew at the wedding mass and thought of how the groom had sighed between her thighs mere hours before, she felt holy. She sat with his cousins a few rows back and even when the blushing bride strutted down the aisle, he couldn’t keep his eyes from Esme for long. 

They were lucky to be able to have a Roman Catholic service as everyone knew that Carlisle’s first marriage had been valid, but enough money had been slipped to the dioceses to push through an annulment, and so in the eyes of the Church this was his first marriage. There was some humour in that. The familiar words were spoken, hymns and prayers recited, and after what felt like a lifetime, and no time at all, Carlisle was walking down the aisle with the new Mrs Cullano on his arm. Sadness twinged at Esme’s stomach. That could have been me. It should have been. He’s mine. 

The reception was tolerable, enjoyable in its tackiness and extravagance. Everything was white and puffy and the hundreds of guests stuffed into the grand ballroom of the coastal hotel were drunk within the first course. It was how a Jersey wedding should have been, though, and Esme appreciated it for what it was. By the time the first dance came, she was lightly buzzed and enjoying catching up with the biggest names in east coast crime, many of whom were old family friends. Business people and politicians, state senators and property moguls joined them too, tying together the legitimate and illegitimate powers that kept the region affluent and fun, and most didn’t know where the legality ended and illegality started. By the time Esme snorted a line of cocaine from the chest of a mayor’s daughter she didn’t much care and the pair fell about laughing in the bathroom. As if called by the sound of Esme’s happiness, the moment was cut short by the sound of the bride herself outside. 

“Lisa, can you fucking help me? This dress is a fucking nightmare, you gotta hold it up, okay?” 

“You better go,” Esme advised the girl, no older than twenty-two by the looks of it, “before you meet Bridezilla up close and personal.” 

The girl giggled and darted from the bathroom just as the bride scrambled her way through the door. The dress she had chosen was appropriately enormous, tight on top and blooming into an extravagant ball gown from the waist down, and Esme wasn’t surprised that she needed three bridesmaids to help her through the door. 

“God, I’m dying to sit down properly-” she moaned over her shoulder before her eyes fell on Esme. Esme patted around her nose, watching her own pretty reflection in the mirror. “Oh. I didn’t know you were here.” 

“I responded to your invitation,” Esme replied mildly. “Lovely dress.” She turned her attention to her lipstick and dotted a fresh coat on, pointedly ignoring the bride. 

The second Mrs Cullano turned back to her bridesmaids and then looked at Esme, dithering between the two. There was a long pause before she turned to her entourage. “Stay outside. Make sure no one comes in, alright?” The bridesmaids made noises of agreement and the door swung shut, and then it was just Esme and Carlisle’s new wife. 

After Mrs Cullano said nothing, Esme broke the silence. “You’ve organised a wonderful day. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Mrs Cullano’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not happy you’re here.” 

“Oh?” 

“I know why you’re here.” 

“To see one of my dearest friends marry the woman he loves, of course.”

“Don’t play cute.” 

Esme smiled sweetly. “You think I’m cute?” 

“Cut the shit.” 

She sighed and looked at the bride. “What’s on your mind, Mrs Cullano?” 

“It’s real tacky you’re here, you know?”

“He wants me here. I came because he asked me to be here. I wouldn’t be here without an invitation.” 

“I didn’t invite you.” 

Esme pulled her invitation from her clutch and handed it to her. “Yes, you did.” 

The bride threw it aside, angry. “Give up! I won! He doesn’t want you!” 

Esme smiled at her sadly. There was nothing to say that could bring the bride any comfort. The truth was, Carlisle did want her. He wanted her more than anyone and anything, but that didn’t matter to this woman. This woman knew she had just pledged her life to a man who couldn’t love her completely. She was angry for it. “He’s my friend,” was all she could say. 

“Get new friends.” 

“I won’t stand in the way of your happiness, Mrs Cullano, or his. Above anything else, I love him and I want him to have the most wonderful life. I can’t give him the life he wants, but you can. Why would I jeopardize that?” 

It was the wrong thing to say in hindsight. Esme knew that the moment the bride launched at her with murder in her eyes. Her clawing fingers reached out and she managed to get in one good scratch before Esme had her arms locked behind her and ready to pop from their joints. “Easy,” she whispered against Mrs Cullano’s ear. The acrylics on her fingers made her face sting, but the skin hadn’t been broken. “Calm down. Like you said, you won, you’re his wife. Don’t fight me for anything more, because you will lose, do you understand me?” 

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano gasped. 

Esme tightened her grip and the bride hissed. “Yes. Raise a hand to me again and Carlisle’s love for you will not save you. You want to see who he will really choose if it comes down to it? Because I do not have my doubts. Do you?” 

Just as the bride’s whines rose in volume along with her pain, Esme let her go. She gripped under her elbow and held her upright to stop her from falling. “You got in a good scratch, I’ll give you that. But work on your attack and maybe you’ll take out an eye next time, alright? You’ll need protection if you’re going to love him.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano asked again. 

There was no kindness left in Esme’s eyes. “Yes.” 

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. The new bride broke first. Esme sniffed and checked her reflection before stalking out of the bathroom, not a hair out of place. She pulled on the diamond strap of her dress and was close to the ballroom door when Carlisle stepped out. His smile was so bright when he saw her and he reached for her hands. When he noticed the scratches across her face his forehead creased. 

“What happened?” he asked, tender fingers touching the marks. Across the corridor there was a set of glass doors open to the terrace, and it was dark out there. There were a few wedding guests milling around but quick steps had the pair hidden in the gloom. Overhead, stars popped across the inky sky. With her arm in Carlisle’s, they found their way down garden paths and to the beach. No one saw them. 

“Your wife doesn’t like me,” Esme told him, smiling. His face was barely visible in the darkness but his bright hair caught the light of the stars. Their walk eventually slowed as their shoes crunched on the sand. 

“She did this?” 

Esme nodded. “It’s alright, she deserved to get in a good swipe. It won’t happen again, though.” 

“No, it won’t,” Carlisle replied angrily. “Who does she think she is?” 

“The new Mrs Cullano, protecting the honour of her marriage,” Esme pointed out with a light laugh. “I’d do the same. I don’t mind, really. I understand her anger.” 

“Esme,” he said, his voice softening. “How can I love someone who hurt you?” 

“You’re the only one who can hurt me, Carlisle.” She wound an arm around the back of his shoulders and closed her eyes when he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I’ll never hurt you.” 

“I know.” And he never had. Not with a hand, not with a word. No one had ever loved anyone like Carlisle loved Esme, and she knew it. “You’re so good to me. What did I do to deserve you?” 

Carlisle rested one hand at the small of her back and ran the fingers of his other hand up her spine. “Thank you for wearing this dress. You look beautiful.” 

She smiled in the night. “Thank you for choosing it for me.” 

“Gotta let the whole world see how wonderful my girl is.” 

“Call me that again.” 

“My girl?” 

She hummed and began gently swaying, moving him to dance with her to the sound of the ocean. “You’re my person, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know. And you’re my person. Always have been. Always will be.” 

Carlisle’s soft kiss touched Esme’s cheek and she sighed in bliss. “I love you, Carlisle.”

“I love you, too, Esme. More than anything. Always.”

[honeyandroseswrites]

someone give me a 1x1 ship based off of mr and mrs smith/baby driver. lovers that are also partners in crime. career criminals or hired assassins who are always on the run, but they’re so in love that it’s gross, and no one ever questions anything. possible thread ideas include 

dying each other’s hair in a shitty motel bathroom 

muse a cleaning up muse b after a particularly nasty heist/fight/interaction with a rival (hurt/comfort!!)

using fake ids to get into luxury hotels and to scam their casinos/rig their slot machines 

road tripping to a different state in a beat up car 

muse b just spoiling muse a every chance they get, just because they can for new clothes, shoes, jewelry

also: pet names all day every day (except when they’re mad at each other)

play fighting/boxing each other that turns into a little bit more? yes please 

muse a jokingly saying they should get married for real after posing as a wealthy married couple to avoid suspicion in an airport/museum/etc and muse b pulling out a ring and proposing to them right then and there bc they’ve had the ring in their pocket the whole time

rare soft moments during the odd hours of 3am between flights to another country/city where it’s the only time they truly can have open conversations about their future

the ‘you could have been killed, what were you thinking? i can’t live without you!” fights that turn into just them  making out against a wall (oops)

the list literally could go on forever, but tl;dr, if you’re interested in this plot, i’ll send you all my memes/love, so like or send me a message!!

[dweetwise]

random thought, but what if the party had been in the entity's realm? i dunno, seeing el just yeet palettes at killers would be a sight though kjdshkjs

i did this whole speech about how i can’t deal with kid characters in dbd so have some of the adult cast instead! i’m sorry it’s not what you wanted but i hope it’s ok <3 also let’s imagine them joining separately or this won’t make much sense. spoilers for st season 3!

Stranger Things characters as dbd survivors

Jonathan

So many tears from both sides when he reunites with Nancy. She's heartbroken that he's stuck here now too, but is also really happy to be with him.

Jonathan doesn't care about being trapped for potentially eternity. He’d literally do anything to be with her, and he would have come voluntarily.

Leans his forehead against a crying Nancy’s, smiles and murmurs “What’s one more shared trauma?” while Nancy chokes out a laugh through her tears.

They're disgustingly adorable at camp, constantly sharing soft looks and smiles and inside jokes.

Nancy will need lots of reassuring that Jonathan’s mom and brother will be okay without him, and that her own family is coping.

With Jonathan around, Nancy starts coming out of her shell more. She gets a lot of her fire back, determined to find a way out and rebel against the Entity.

Jonathan and Steve quickly become friends, as they were on good terms even before, but Jonathan is so grateful Steve has been there for Nancy. Steve is just glad to have a familiar face and is super happy for them.

Would probably bond with Jake because they're both pretty damn weird. Also Claudette and Adam, being the more quiet types, and Zarina for the photography.

Robin

Fucking screaming when her and Steve see each other at the campfire. “Dingus! Where the fuck have you been!?”

When she's given the ‘welcome to the fog’ talk by Dwight, her smile fades. “You're kidding,” she says, eyes wide, before turning to Steve. “Please tell me he's kidding.” “Sorry,” Steve cringes.

Is surprisingly quick to embrace the situation, following Steve’s lead in dealing with the situation with humor. Steve gets even more dorky and hyper than before, happy to have his partner in crime back.

Imagine Steve and Robin, full scoops outfits, bullying the shit out of killers.

She vibes with Nea and Feng who totally teach her all their toxic little tricks. She also finally gets to properly know Nancy, and they become fast friends as they have a lot in common and Nancy loves hearing about what happened in Hawkins after they were taken.

A lot of the other survivors mistake Robin and Steve for a couple, right up until Robin gets visibly flustered by a bear hug from Kate. She secretly also ends up crushing hard on Claudette, but doesn’t tell a soul, not even Steve.

That doesn’t stop her from bugging Steve about whether he has a crush and to let her wingwoman for him.

Once starts talking to Anna in Russian and nearly gets adopted and starved to death, but is luckily saved by Bill forcefully pushing her out through the exit

When she gets overwhelmed by the death and violence, Steve sneaks her away and lets her cry on his shoulder. Other times she tells stories of Dustin and the other kids, who looked for Steve and Nancy every day for months, and pets his hair while he quietly sobs into his Scoops hat.

Joyce

Steve and Nancy couldn’t be more confused upon seeing Joyce. “Mrs. Byers? What are you doing here?”

She's worried about her boys but quickly pulls herself together. Reassures Nancy that Jonathan is safe and free from Hawkins drama, though he’s never been able to get over Nancy after her disappearance.

“What about the kids? Are they okay?” mama bear Steve butts in. He smiles brightly every time she tells him stories about the kids’ adventures he’s missed.

She's a resourceful lady and does quite well in the trials. Hates most killers but is still furious with Demo for kidnapping her boy. Even David looks a little intimidated by her unbridled rage when she’s up against the killer, slamming pallets on its head and chasing it down when it tries to whimper away.

Will scold Legion like a disappointed mother. “What are you doing, boy? Is this what your parents would have wanted?” Joey actually pauses mid-frenzy, knife raised, before lowering the weapon and shuffling his feet in shame. “Sorry, ma'am.”

She's a good addition to the survivor camp, as they’ve never had a literal mom figure before. Laurie especially really looks up to her, and Meg loves her no-nonsense attitude. Joyce looks after the younger survivors and is on pretty good terms with everyone.

Well. With the exception of Ace. Upon first meeting him, she slaps him when he goes in for a cheesy kiss on her hand. “I was just told I’m stuck in an endless cycle of murder and violence—do you really think that's appropriate?” she scolds while Ace just grins.

Out of everyone, she’s the most determined to find a way out, inspiring a lot of the others with new hope.

Hopper

He's very confused and angry about the realm, even after Steve and Nancy explain everything. At this point he’s seen so much weirdness he’s just done with all the paranormal bullshit.

Just wants to go back to El and feels like her and the kids and the entire goddamn town of Hawkins need him.

Sucks in trials at first. “So let me get this straight... I have to repair machines and run circles around a piece of wood while a murdered is after me?” “Pretty much, yeah,” Steve shrugs. “Right, not happening. My gun has to be around here somewhere!”

Instant bros with Tapp because good cop and… good cop? Tapp is able to get through his thick skull with strategic advice, and they’re both very much about protecting the other survivors.

Fits in well with the rest of the Old Man Squad (TM) as well, even though Ash keeps trying to one-up his stories, Bill refuses to share his cigarettes, Felix constantly talks about weird future stuff, and Ace always teases him about his shit poker face.

He’s instantly very protective of Steve and Nancy and easily adopts Cheryl, Nea, Quentin, Laurie, Feng, Meg—the list goes on.

Billy

He did slightly redeem himself just before his death, but is still hesitant to join the group, thinking Steve and Nancy hate him after all the shit he put them and their friends through.

Nancy is wary but Steve is quick to forgive and forget. “Just don’t kick my ass or, y’know, try to kill us again, yeah?” Steve laughs a little shakily and, knowing Steve had more beef with him than her, Nancy follows his lead and eventually comes around.

Has a lot of banter with David, and nobody can really tell if they're best bros, hate each other's guts or have the hots for one another. The Entity gives him a shirtless skin too and they can usually be seen obnoxiously flaunting their abs together.

A lot of the others make fun of his hair and pretty boy look. Luckily he can take it in stride, dishing out just as much cheeky comments about Feng’s neon hair and some of Ace’s more questionable outfits.

Tries to hit on Jane because he's a thirsty fuck but gets a very patronizing “Talk to me in a decade, honey,” for his efforts.

Eventually opens up to Nancy that it's not fair for her and Steve to be stuck here, as they didn't do anything wrong. He thinks he deserves the punishment, and is surprised the Entity didn’t make him a killer after what he did.

He’s still a cocky little shit, though much more genuine than before—dying probably has that effect on you.

*cries* i’m so happy i got to write jancy i love them so much ;w; also i would 110% ship joyce and ace but i doubt anyone is surprised

[hailbop1701]

Down The Rabbit Hole

John Kennex/OC

KennexWhump!

Hello, my loves! I have another request here from @zecklein! I really, really hope I did good and that you like it. This actually my first whump fic so it took me a while.

The city abuzz with activity despite the late hour. The sound of a persistent ringing broke the peace in the previously quiet apartment. A soft groan blindly reached over to grab the offending object off of the coffee table. “Speak and it better be good,” came an irritated female voice. “Sorry detective, we have another scene for you,”  a voice said softly over the line. Another groan and the woman slowly moved off the couch, “Thanks Lewis, gimme the address and I’ll be right over.” she whispered tiredly. A soft chuckle echoed from the phone, “fall asleep on the couch again Thea?” 

Thea scowled, “no,” she lied and winced at the crick in her neck and the shooting pain in her shoulder. Lewis paused hesitating, “the killer crossed districts,” he said as Thea sniffed at her laundry hunting for something clean. She froze holding a pair of jeans halfway to her nose, “You’re shitting me. He’s back, he’s been dormant for months! Same M.O. the same?” she asked. Lewis sighed, “Yes, and don’t get too crazy on this,” he scolded. Thea scowled putting her phone on speaker, “When am I not crazy?” she asked, pulling on the pair of jeans. She could practically see Lewis rolling his eyes, “How about all the damn time. Not a lot of people can work with you,” he said patiently. 

Thea grabs a shirt that hung over the railing to the stairs that lead up to her bedroom, “I got nothin’” she said, pulling it over her head quickly. A huffed laugh made her smile, “I sent you the address and Max is waiting for you downstairs with coffee,” Lewis chuckled. “Oh Lewis if you weren’t gay I’d think you were being sweet on me,”  she purred before hanging up. Pulling on her boots and shrugging on her cheap faux leather jacket Thea grabbed her bag and was out the door. She was ten feet from her door when she remembered she forgot her gun, “Oh it’s gonna be that kind of day,” she muttered, turning on her heels to go back. 

A solid fifteen minutes and ten flights later; “the damn elevator is broken, really?” Thea was grumpily stalking over to her waiting MX. “Good morning detective,” he said in his usual monotone, Thea huffed and took the coffee he held out to her. “Not really Max,” she quipped back, getting into the driver's seat. Max tilted his head and moved to the passenger side after closing her door, “You’re blood pressure is unusually high, are you alright detective?” Max asked, looking at her like an over-talkative X-Ray machine. Thea wrinkled her nose and shifted in her seat, “I’m just tired Max, and maybe the fact that the killer I’ve been working so hard to catch has decided to meander over to a different district after taking a six-month-long cat nap!” she growled not taking her eyes off the road. Max was quiet for a moment as if he were thinking of the right words to say, “I pulled up the file on the detective you are working with,” he said with a blink of his eyes. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel Thea let out a breath; she picked up her coffee and took a long sip, “Okay, give it to me,”

Max looked ahead, “Detective John Kennex, 41 years of age. He has a successful career and he is single-” he said but stopped when Thea waved her hand, “What are you-stop. No, don’t even think about it,” she said whining. Max looked over at his human pointedly, “You are increasing in age detective Redding. It would serve to be in your best interest to procreate at-'' Thea screeched cutting off the android again, “No Max, you need to stop doing this shit! God, you’re worse than my mother!” she yelled. The MX closed his mouth and kept silent, the silence made Thea relax a little. “I can’t believe I got the MX who might have a personality, I blame the lightning that hit you last year,” she muttered, picking up her coffee again. 

Max opened his mouth but closed it again with an audible click. After sitting in traffic a moment too long Thea turned on the siren and proceeded to drive up onto the sidewalk. Finishing her coffee in one long swig, she rolled down her window and tossed it in a garbage can as it passed by. Max turned his head to stare at her for a long moment, face void of emotion but Thea knew the look he was giving her anyway. It read, ‘really?’ 

“Don’t you fucking judge me, mister let me set you up with a murder victim’s husband,” Thea said pointing a finger. Max looked away again, “We are coming up on our destination,” he warned as Thea turned into a relatively abandoned parking lot. “Really? damn, I didn’t know that,” she said putting the vehicle into park. Thea got out of the car and strode over to where numerous CSI milling around with their arms crossed. She moved through the holographic police tape and nodded at the officer who had waved her on; knowing Max was right there she held out a hand for some gloves and they promptly appeared. Pulling them on Thea stopped by one of the two bodies, squatting down she checked the neck first. “No ligatures,” she whispered with a sigh. 

“See John, I told you that you made a wrong turn.” a smooth voice echoed from behind Max. “I was just taking a detour!” another voice shot back. Thea rolled her eyes and held out her hand again, a penlight was dropped into it. She gently pulled open the dead woman’s mouth to peer inside, “Nothing obstructing the airway, and…” Thea turned the victims head to check behind the left ear, “the killer’s signature. Just perfect the asshole got brave and hunted outside his comfort zone,” she muttered. Standing up Thea turned around to see two men bickering close by, one android and one detective who was kinda cute. In a grumpy, ruffled kind of way. Thea cleared her throat looking at the two with raised eyebrows, “Murder in your own district and I beat you to the scene?” she joked testing the waters. The cute one opened his mouth to retort but was elbowed by the DRN in the ribs. 

Max scrunched his eyebrows together, “But detective Redding you drove fifteen miles over the speed limit and then cut traffic by driving on the sidewalk,” he said matter of factly. A snort of laughter from Kennex made her eye twitch. Pinching the bridge of her nose and looking at the ground Thea pointed to the car, “begone you oversized lightning rod, you’ve lost crime scene privileges.” she said flatly. The MX hesitated before striding over to the car and getting into the passenger seat. Looking up again she saw that Kennex’s android had a hand covering his mouth to keep from laughing. Kennex laughed openly, not caring what so ever, “he’s such a handful,” Thea muttered with an eye roll. She held out her hand, “Detective Thea Redding. Sorry that this guy came into your neck of the woods, he’s been dormant for six months and I guess he wanted a change of scenery,” she said with a wince. The other detective took Thea’s hand; his engulfing hers, “John Kennex and that disco ball is Dorian. This is the twelfth body?” he asked letting go.

Thea huffed, “Yeah, he officially turned into a serial killer at body three and four. Married couple. What’s strange about the killings though is that they die of asphyxiation but they aren’t strangled and they didn’t choke on anything, and the tox screens come back normal. We’ve been working on going through each victim's histories hoping to find a connection between them but so far nothing besides the obvious,” she said nodding towards the wedding rings on each victim's left hands. She turned the dead woman to the side again and showed them the small carving behind the woman’s left ear. A heart.  

“A heart?” Kennex asked, looking at Thea questioningly and she nodded lips in a thin line. The sun had come up by now and people who were walking by were starting to linger. Thea looked into the crowd with narrowed green eyes, “He’s meticulous but he seems random, I know for a fact that he’s not. I managed to narrow him down to a specific area then he disappeared, and now he’s outside his hunting grounds.” she ranted in frustration stepping aside letting the M.E. get to the body. “Maybe you were getting too close, were there any close calls?” Kennex asked almost reassuringly. Thea bit her lip and nodded, “Yeah the Pier. I managed to track him back to one of his dens. He managed to get there first and torched it. I saw him, sort of. Too much smoke and the flames were too big. I ran after him anyway and got shot in the shoulder for my trouble,” she said glaring at the growing crowd behind the police barrier. Dorian winced, “I’m guessing that’s when he disappeared?” he asked and Thea nodded and patted her pockets when her phone rang, she pulled it out of her back pocket and walked away to a quiet corner. 

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Kennex looked at the crowd that gathered outside the police line, “Dorian do a scan, see if anything pops up.” he said quietly the android nodded and quickly recorded and scanned the crowd, names popping and saved for later. “What do you think?” Dorian asked looking over at him. John shrugged, “ I’m not sure yet. I do know she’s close to this one, it’s personal for her now-” 

“No, not the case! I was talking about detective Redding herself!” Dorian interrupted smiling. John looked at his partner with a raised eyebrow, “What about her?” he asked, quickly turning his eye to the crime scene. Dorian’s lips twitched into a smirk, “I saw how you looked at her. And your heart rate increased when you shook her hand, not to mention your tes-” John whipped his head around and clapped a hand over Dorain’s mouth. “Don’t you even dare. Plus you promised to never do that again!” he hissed. Dorian held up his hands in surrender. John took his hand off Dorian’s mouth as Thea walked back to them pushing her phone into her back pocket, “I got word from my tech guy. On the last body, there was a cell phone, it didn’t belong to the VIC and it had some crazy encryption and obviously, it has taken them months to get into it. The thing is, it unlocked by itself,” she said shoving her hands into her jacket pockets with a deep frown on her face. John cleared his throat after he realized he was staring too long, “what did they find?” he asked, crossing his arms, “a single voicemail. They said they sent it to your precinct.” Thea said with a sigh. A CSI walked up to her side and handed over some evidence bags, “thanks,” she whispered, taking them and tech nodded before rushing off. 

“Do you mind if I get a ride with you? I want Max to take these back to-'' Thea stopped when she saw John and Dorian’s faces, “You named your MX?” John asked with a surprised laugh and Thea nodded almost sheepishly. “Yeah, it sort of just happened, and then it stuck. He was struck by lightning and became like a Jewish mother,” she said grimacing. John opened his mouth to say something smart but he just couldn’t come up with anything, “Wow,” he muttered running a hand through his hair. “We’ll wait in the car detective,” Dorian said kindly. Thea smiled at him before jogging over to her police-issued vehicle.  John shook his head, “how do you do that?” he asked the android who had just shrugged, “I don’t know man, but you should consider asking her out,” he said opening a door to the backseat of the car. “Stop that, what is it with you and my love life?” John asked, glaring at Dorian in the rearview mirror. The passenger side door suddenly opened making John jump ever so slightly, “Okay let’s go!” Thea said buckling. As John pulled out from the scene Thea bit her lip, “can we stop and get coffee?” she asked and John huffed amused. “Woman after my own heart,” he said heading for the closest shop. He didn’t notice the light pink of a blush spread over Thea’s cheeks. But Dorian did, he smiled and began to scheme. 

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“- and then boom! He was struck by lightning!” Thea said gesturing wildly with her hands. John wheezed from laughing so hard while Dorian had a huge grin on his face, eyes dancing with amusement. “I don’t believe you. That is too perfect to happen in real life?” Kennex said with a shake of his head. Thea held a mock offended hand to her heart, “Why detective Kennex are you calling a lady a liar?” she asked with a mock southern belle accent. Kennex smirked and had the perfect retort when he was cut off by a voice over the main screen, “You’re no lady Redding! I’ve seen you drink alcoholics under the table,”  Thea flipped off the screen but with a smile, “Fuck off Toby, and that guy deserved getting hustled in pool. He was an idiot. God that night...I’m never drinking tequila again.”  she said with an eye roll and a grimace. The man on the screen tilted his head back and laughed before becoming serious again.  

 They walked into the bullpen, Thea’s eyes darting everywhere taking stock of the differences. A lean frazzled-looking man stood there holding onto a tablet bouncing on the balls of his feet. As soon as the trio was in range, the guy held out a hand for Thea to shake. “Hello, detective Redding! I heard from your techs Lewis and obviously Toby they had sent every report and bit of information you gathered on the killer, and I must say you’re very thorough,” he said it all without letting go of her. John sighed, “Rudy,” he said and the tech quickly let go and backed up. “Sorry, I’m Rudy,” he said nervously. Thea gave him a kind smile, “it’s nice to meet you Rudy. What do you have for me?” she asked sweetly. Rudy stuttered for a second before hitting a button on the tablet wordlessly, the disguised voice made Thea tense. She looked up at Toby but his image was gone. 

“Hello detective Redding, how’s the investigation coming along? I’m sure an intelligent woman like yourself can figure it all out in time; before the next two bodies drop. Bodies eleven and twelve,” the killer clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner, “I disappointed detective, you’ve missed me again, though I do have to give it to you. You almost had me, that one sunny afternoon. The pier is such a big place, so easy to get lost. I had to cross district lines ahead of schedule. It took me some time I grant you, rabbit holes can be deep. How’s the shoulder?” the voice chuckled darkly adding in the last like an afterthought and Thea’s arm automatically jolted in pain at the memory. She hissed as the voice continued, “Detective Kennex I welcome you to the fold and I wish you luck; I feel like you’re going to need it.” he chuckled and then silence. “I feel like that was a threat,” Kennex mused unconcerned. 

Thea was silent staring off into space biting her thumbnail, the room around her was busy bustling with people but the small bubble around her was silent. A silence that was almost deafening. Someone brought her out of her thoughts by gently placing a hand on her arm. Looking up she saw Dorian looking down at her with slight concern in his eyes. “I’m okay, I’m just-” she trailed off and pulled the tablet from Rudy’s hands. She scrolled through the written transcript of the voicemail. “He said that he had to move districts ahead of schedule,” she said and tapped at the screen in her hands. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the pictures and profiles of each victim to the big screen. Thea looked at Kennex, “What do you see?” she asked expectantly. John looked at the crime scene photos, eyes darting back and forth. “Married couples,” he frowned, and then his eyes widened a fraction. “They’re successful, a bit snobbish, “ he said touching the screen bringing up their social media accounts. “Arrogant is the word you’re looking for.” Thea pointed out. Dorian stepped forward-looking at the giant screen in front of them, “Do you have a map of the body drops?” he asked and Thea wordlessly brought up the map she and Lewis had made. The map of the district appeared and each crime scene location popped up one by one.  They formed a large circle that covered several miles, “That’s how we narrowed it down to the pier,” she said with a sigh. Thea quickly expanded the map so it showed delta and the new crime scene. “He’s found a new den,” she scowled, running a hand through her hair so the brown waves were pushed back.  Kennex appeared on her other side looking at the map intently,  Thea mentally tried to connect the dots.

“Rudy do you know when the voice message was left?” Redding asked, turning toward the man. Rudy looked like a deer caught in some headlights for a minute before consulting his phone. “Uh, six this morning,” he said looking up. Thea sighed expecting the answer, “He was watching us,” she muttered irritated. “Dorian, did anyone in the crowd today look odd to you?” Kennex asked leaning against what Thea assumed was his desk. Dorian stared into space for a moment and tilted his head to the side, “I have an adult gender unknown with a hood covering their face. Their body language is relaxed and he’s staring in detective Redding’s direction.” he said, turning his full attention back to Kennex and Redding. John seemed stone-faced as he eyed the big screen in front of the room, while Thea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I have an idea but neither of you will like it,” she said biting her lip. Dorian and John looked at each other almost nervously. 

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“You’re right, I hate this plan,” John deadpanned over the secure comm. Thea chuckled and walked the dark street holding a warm cardboard cup of coffee to keep the cold away. Snow slowly trickled down from the blackened sky, “He’s going to go after one of us, trackers and teams are in place. It’ll be fine. I hope,” she said discreetly. Kennex snorted over the line, “when this is done you and I are going to have a talk about what’s fine,” he said a slight smile in his voice. “I look forward to it,” Thea chuckled and took a sip of her hot drink. “You two are just adorable, I think SWAT has an ongoing bet on when you go on your first date,” Dorian teased over the line. Kennex cursed the DRN out, while Thea blushed and cleared her throat. John abruptly cut out, his harsh insults stopping. “Aw come on John, I’m just teasing,” Dorian said with a light chuckle, the laughs of the SWAT team could also be heard. Thea smirked but it melted away when the man didn’t answer, “John?” Thea questioned voice even. No reply. “Is there a visual on Kennex?” she asked, stopping at the mouth of an alley. There was a long pause, “No visual,” 

“Fuck!” Thea shouted, dropping her coffee she started to run toward Kennex’s last known position. Thea stopped in the middle of the abandoned street panting; Dorian ran up to her with SWAT on his ass. “How in the hell did someone get past us?” he asked looking up and down the street. “He’s a hacker and a good one. We were compromised,” Thea growled angrily. Mostly at herself. A shrill ringing broke the tense silence. Gritting her teeth Thea pulled out her phone, “Hello?” ground out. A dark chuckle over the line made her freeze. She looked up at Dorian with wide eyes; his face immediately lit up hoping to trace the call. “Nice try detective but you can’t trace me, tell the DRN better luck next time,” the disguised voice hissed. Dorian shook his head at Thea and she scowled, “Where is he?” she growled out.

 “Oh, I assure detective Kennex is quite safe, waiting for you in fact. Come alone and you both will be free,”  the voice purred over the line. Thea met Dorian’s eyes; he set his jaw and shook his head. “No tracker, no android,” they whispered, making Dorian shake his head again. “Fine,” she said and the android in front of her huffed, tossing up his hands. “Good detective, now walk.” the killer growled. Thea looked at Dorian apologetically and stalked down the street phone attached to her ear. “What do I call you anyway, I can’t just keep saying ‘the guy’ in my head,” she inquired, trying to keep the conversation going. The voice snorted “Call me Hatty,” the voice-Hatty said in amusement. Thea paused midstep, “So you’re a woman,” she muttered. Hatty laughed openly and dropped the voice changer. “Very good detective! I almost lost hope in your abilities! Turn right at the corner and keep going until the end,” she instructed proudly. Thea did as she was told, “Hatty short for Harriet?” she asked matter of factly. Hatty hummed undoubtedly smirking “Can I asked why you killed them?” she asked bitterly, “they deserved it, detective. They had no souls, they only thought of themselves and cheated to get what they wanted. They didn’t work hard as I did! But you’d never understand, all you have to do is bat your pretty eyes to get what you want! I’m the main character now!” Harriet shrieked, losing her cool.  A male voice shouted something in the background and then a resounding crack echoed over the line, “Hatty, what did you do! You said you wouldn’t hurt him!” Thea hissed angrily into her phone. The woman huffed a sigh, “Relax, he’s fine. Just a little reminder on who’s in charge,’ she said mildly annoyed. Thea gripped her phone tighter and came to a stop at a series of abandoned buildings close to the wall, “straight ahead and down the stairs detective, see you soon.” Hatty chuckled and Thea heard nothing but the dial tone. 

Taking a deep breath Thea opened the front door of the old apartment building. Dust covered every surface making the woman wrinkle her nose; using her phone as a flashlight Thea eased forward toward the labeled basement stairs. Nudging the door open with her foot Thea looked down into the darkness, “Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” she whispered. After hitting the hard cement at the bottom Thea looked down each long hall on either side of her. One was pitch black, while the other had a light at the end, “I’ll take the less creepy hall for two hundred Alex,” she whispered to the dust mites. Thea moved quickly and quietly until she came to a wide-open room, which was filled with books and a desk housing monitors, and a jammer. “There go the trackers,” she grumbled under her breath. On the monitors were dozens of pictures of her; at home, at work, at her favorite coffee shop. On the desk sat an old copy of “Alice’s adventures: Through the Looking Glass” she tapped the book with her knuckle curiously before turning to the rest of the room. That’s when she saw him, “John!” she ran over and knelt down by the bloody unconscious man. Placing two fingers on his neck Thea sighed in relief, shoulders slumping relaxing ever so slightly. “Welcome to your repentance detective,” a feminine voice hissed, and then there was nothing. 

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Thea groaned when someone shook her shoulder, “Hey Redding. Thea wake up.” someone whispered to her gently. Her eyes fluttered open only to meet soft green ones staring right back at her, “Hey there,” she whispered slowly lifting her head from Kennex’s lap. “You okay?” he asked and Thea waved her hand with a grimace, “I’m just peachy,” she slurred squinting at the brightness of the room. “Concussions are fun,” she muttered, swallowing hard. They both got to their feet and gazed around the room. Mirrors, all they could see was themselves reflecting endlessly. The room dimmed, and the harsh light from before was gone. The sound of a vacuum made them freeze and it became hard to breathe; Thea looked over at John who had clamped his mouth shut to save his air. ‘This is how she does it then,’ she thought dryly holding her breath as well. The floor glowed in a red hue revealing words on the floor. The world tilted and began to grow grey around the edges. Thea couldn’t hold it anymore and choked falling to her knees; Kennex was beside her hoping to do something. Thea pointed at the inscription on the floor but he didn’t seem to understand it. She fell to her side gasping for air that wouldn’t come, she stared at the words mindlessly. She couldn’t process what it said, Thea felt a hand cup her cheek. Kennex turned her head so she was looking up at him; he was fading fast. He brushed the hair out of her face and took one last breath; and then he slowly gave it to her. Their lips connected and air filled her lungs. Thea gasped and snapped her mouth shut to hold the air in. She watched as Kennex fell to the floor twitching, eyes wide. 

Thea rolled over eyeing the quote again, ‘ She who saves a single soul, saves the universe.’ it read. She pushed to her feet and staggered over to the mirrored wall; she put her hands on the cold, smooth surface hoping to find something; anything. Her vision was starting to blacken again, she was running out of time. Placing her forehead against the mirror Thea pushed her mind. She thought back, ‘A heart. A heart meaning what?  Hatty. An angry little girl...who loves Alice in Wonderland.’ she thought, “Rabbit holes are deep.” 

Thea pounded a fist on the mirror in front of her in frustration, everything was fading. ‘Alice in Wonderland what did it teach you? Six impossible things, high caterpillars, off with their heads...and nothing is what it seems.’ she spun around to take in the room again. Her infinite reflection seemed to mock her, ‘not as it seems,’ she chanted to herself as she staggered to the center of the room where John lay unconscious. Narrowing her eyes Thea looked at the floor, it was so smooth and inviting. She let her knees buckle so her eye was level with the ground below her. ‘No, not the ground. Tinted glass.’  she thought dimly. The exit was below them; down the rabbit hole. Thea with the last of her strength picked up her foot and slammed it down on the glass below her. It cracked. She opened her mouth in a silent gasp and brought her foot down again. The crack grew in size so it spiderwebbed beneath her and John. The strength left her as quickly as it came, she slumped to the side over John’s torso eyes giving in to the spreading darkness. 

As Thea closed her eyes she failed to notice the glass cracking and spiderwebbing to each corner of the room, or better yet the modified shipping container that they were housed in. The sound of shattering glass filled the empty space; a large empty parking garage and the two detectives fell six feet to the ground. Twenty long seconds passed before Thea took a gasping breath. She rolled to her side and coughed harshly, she yelped and winced at the glass biting into her. “K-Kennex.” she gasped out seeing his prone form. He wasn’t moving his chest was rising and falling as it should; Thea pulled herself to her knees and crawled painfully towards him. Thea bent over John and listened for a heartbeat when she found none she laced her hands together and began chest compressions. Counting thirty compressions Thea pinched the man’s nose and tilted his head back, she puffed two breaths into him. Nothing. She counted thirty more and did two more breaths. Nothing. Thirty more compressions and the tear were falling down her cheeks. Taking another big breath Thea breathed two more into him. Kennex gasped into her mouth making Thea quickly straighten. A hysterical laugh bubbled past her lips and she fell painfully backward onto the glass-covered floor. “You’re okay, you were only dead for a minute or two,” she said reaching an arm over to pat his chest lightly.“That’s comforting,” he wheezed taking her hand and holding it.

 “I’m never reading The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland again,” Thea muttered as she gingerly got to her feet. She winced when she saw that they were covered in little shards of tinted glass. She braced herself and pulled John to his feet, “Oh I’m going to feel this tomorrow,” he gasped clutching onto his newly broken ribs. “Sorry about that,” Thea said guiltily and John waved it off. “You saved my ass, and all you should be concerned about is what type of drink you’re gonna have when I buy it for you,” he said casually as they wandered down a pitch-black hall. “Are you asking me out Kennex?” Thea asked teasingly and John huffed trying to hold in a laugh. “It’s possible Ms, Redding. It depends, is that a yes?” he asked tilting his head down towards her. Thea smiled softly, “I’ll give you an answer when we catch the killer detective Kennex,” she said coyly. John sighed and nodded and then groaned when they reached the basement stairs. 

It took them ten minutes to reach the street and another five to get far enough away from the jammer to make a call. Thea turned on her phone and was greeted with a functional but heavily cracked screen, she looked over at John who was leaning heavily against the brick wall of an old storefront. Thea tapped at her phone and frowned, “The lights are on but no one's home,” she said holding up the useless device. Kennex groaned tossing his own phone aside, “If we keep walking I’m sure we’ll find Dorian. He probably has everyone looking for us,” he said shoving off the wall. Thea nodded and took some of Johns’s weight as they walked. As soon as they had a view of the main road they were engulfed by light and swarmed by people. Cops and EMS alike. Dorian darted forward and pulled both detectives in for a hug, “Ah come on Dorian, enough!” Kennex whined. The android laughed and scanned each of you, “Hospital, now.” he ordered waving a few EMTs over with their stretcher. “What about-” Thea asked but Dorian cut her off, “We found Harriet Chase running from the area, she had John’s badge and an old book. She was being interrogated for your location but she wouldn’t speak a word except for Alice in Wonderland quotes,” he said gently pushing Thea onto a waiting stretcher. The EMTs strapped her in careful of the glass embedded in her skin, she looked over at John who was already watching her. Thea raised an eyebrow making Kennex grin, “How about that drink, detective?” he asked as he was being lifted into an ambulance. Thea grinned back, “You’re on Kennex, I’ll even kick your ass in pool!” she called out before the doors slammed shut. 

Thea chuckled as she was placed inside her respective ambulance and was shocked to see a stoic MX sitting there back ramrod straight. “Max?” she questioned and the android looked down at her, lip twitching. His version of a smile, “Hello detective,” he greeted before falling silent. Shaking her head Thea smiled, “I have a date,” she said in a whisper. The MX looked at her emotionless to others but to her, the twitches in his face said differently, it said ‘about damn time,’

If this is well-liked I'm willing do another Chapter where Hatty and Thea meet face to face and the date!

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[lokiandbuckyaremine]

All The Broken Pieces

Prompt: “Can you do a fic where the reader practically holds the team together and she does little things that no one notices and she kinda is exhausted and falls a bit apart in the end. It's not necessarily that you do it, but if you have time and if you do it can you tag me? :)) Thank you so much, I love your writing” ~ Requested by @just-some-imagines

Pairing: Reader x Bucky, Reader x Avengers

Warnings: Some “fighting”, language, Bucky being adorable as usual

Note: Hey everyone! Sorry I have not been on here in A LONG TIME! Hope everyone is safe in these crazy times, but just know I miss and love you all.

The knife felt heavy in your knuckles, as you stared at the dead agent in front of you. The lifeless man on the ground was a product of rage, hatred, and exhaustion. This has been your 4th mission in the past week, and you could feel the exhaustion envelope you. “Fall back, y/n”, you heard in your earpiece. Toning the voice out, you continuously stared at the man who laid dead on the ground. Glancing up, you noticed 15 others just like him.....lifeless.

Dropping the knife, you fought back a tear, and jogged away from your crime scene. “Y/N? Do you copy?” Snapping back to reality, you answered lowly, “I copy, Sam. I’m headed to the jet.” As you almost hit the jet, another presence joined you. “What happened back there, Doll?” It was Bucky. The one person who seemed to understand your internal battles. The one who called you “doll”, as if it were natural to him. “Nothing,” you muttered. He grabbed your arm and looked at you sternly. Ripping your arm away, you stared him down. “I said nothing, Barnes. Let it go”. You stomped up the ramp to the jet, and huffed down in your seat. You were no longer fighting back the tears, as they fell off of your face. And that was when you made one of the toughest decisions of your life....

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“Hey, Wilson! Breakfast!”, you shouted flipping another egg in the pan. Heavy footsteps were heard in the distance, as some of the team started filing in and sitting down. “Oh yes! It’s omelet day! Someone pass the hash browns”. A very thrilled Steve kissed your cheek and smacked his hands in excitement. There was no romance between the two of you, but when it came to having a best friend that you could trust no matter what, it was Steve Rogers. 

Grabbing a plate, you ran into a hard surface and quickly realized who it was. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to run into you.” Your eyes met a very tired, yet gorgeous pair of clear blue eyes. You half smiled, “It’s ok, Buck. Just glad you said something.” You and Bucky haven’t spoken in months, ever since you announced your resignation from The Avengers. You had your reasons, but nonetheless they were your family and you weren’t going to leave them. 

Someone spitting brought your attention away from the hunky man in front of you. “Ugh, these do not taste like the home fries my mom used to make.” Frowning, you grabbed a fork and pointed it at Tony. “You know one of these days, Stark, you’re going to thank me for making you breakfast. In fact, one of these days you ALL are going to thank me.” Loud murmurs spread across the table and Steve finally cleared his throat. “Y/N, I think I speak for all of us that we really do appreciate your cooking.” Wanda giggled. “Uh, no offense. But Banner can make better pancakes than her.” More criticisms flowed out of the mouths of your friends, and this started to bother you. Clanging your glass, and holding back frustration. “Well fine. If you all obviously don’t appreciate me getting up early to put food in your stomach, then you can all make your own goddam breakfast.”

Storming off, you heard the team continuously argue over one another. You felt as though no matter how hard you tried to make everyone happy and keep everyone together, it backfired. The amounts of times you helped Tony and Steve through fights, or the amount of times you pumped up Wanda for feeling like she had nothing to offer to the team, or the countless times you helped Bruce in the lab....you received nothing in return. Sure you’d never expect anything, but you were starting to feel burnt out. 

The next morning rolled around, and you were up early once again. Today was training day for the boys, and by boys you meant Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Every Friday was training day, which means that the gym would be occupied for hours. You got into the routine of setting up each corner based on what each guy would be working on. For Sam, he was working on target practice as well as being quicker with reaction time. For Bucky, he was the weight and treadmill master. And then there was Steve that stuck with his classic punching bag. As you were finishing setting Sam’s target machine, you heard the chuckles and footsteps heading your way. 

Turning around, you were greeted by three grinning men. “Well if it isn’t my favorite girl scouts,” you teased. Steve ran over and picked you up, swinging you around. “Girl scouts, huh? Can a girl scout lift you, Speedy?” You were in a laughing mess, as he put you down and started to gently spar with you. He was your buddy, and you could always count on him to make you smile. But you couldn’t help but notice a lonely Bucky in the corner, watching the two of you sadly. “I’ll be right back, Rogers. You better be saving that energy for Peggy”, you winked.

Giggling, you walked over to Bucky and placed a hand on his shoulder. It tensed and you put your hands up in surrender. “Hey, it’s ok. Just me.” His build soften, and he continued to set up his weights. “What do you want, y/n?” You scoffed and helped set up squat bar. “What? I don’t get called ‘doll’ anymore, all of a sudden?” You glared at him and continued to raise the height of the bar. He stopped you and grabbed your hand. “Would you stop?! I got it. Why do you always feel to help out around here? We can handle ourselves, Y/N!!!” 

In total shock and tears, you slammed the bar down and stormed out of the gym. Where did this come from? You and Bucky ALWAYS had a spark, but lately you’ve felt so disconnected. Too many thoughts were stirring through your head, and you found yourself sobbing on the balcony of your room. Screaming out into the world, you cried harder and slumped down into the lifeless hammock behind you. Why would he do this? Why couldn’t anyone appreciate your help or love? Why, why, why....

The turn of a doorknob diverted your attention to the sweaty, yet handsome man standing in the doorway. His face was just as hurt and shocked as yours. Without hesitation, you turned your body to him. “Why? That’s all I wanna know, Buck.” Furrowing his eyebrows, he motioned towards the hammock and you scooched over so he could sit. He sighed and leaned back. “Ever since that night, in Bucharest, when you wouldn’t speak to me, or the team, I knew what you were going to do. I could tell by your eyes that you couldn’t handle it anymore.” He looked at you, and back out into the sky. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked with the glow of the rising sun on his stubbled face. “But that night, I also knew that I was losing my partner. My best friend. My soulmate, really.”

Your eyebrows rose, and your stare met his. “I know that you’re still living here and constantly are doing anything you can to make us happy, but that’s not you, Doll.” You smiled softly at the name he called you. He reached over and brushed away a lone tear that was on your cheek. “You don’t need to make us breakfast or be the problem-solver for us to appreciate you. Believe me, all those years of fighting for us, saving us, saving ME....that is the REAL y/n that I know and fell for. You hold us together, and seeing you stressing out to forcefully make us happy is something not worth losing you over”.

THIS was the Bucky you loved and missed. Hearing him speak, you couldn’t help but flashback to the late nights of the two of you cuddling on the balcony, sharing deep conversations and letting the pain of the missions go away. You smiled up at him reassuringly. “I just want to do good, Buck. I want to BE the right person for everyone. It’s just how I’ve always been. But the constant killing and traveling place to place was eating away at me. Especially since my past destroyed me in the first place. If I’m not perfect, or pleasing anybody, how can anyone ever love me?”

Bucky nudged you with his arm, and then wrapped you tightly with his arm. “Hey! Don’t talk like that. Your smile, your laugh, your warm heart, the way you do things so carefree, the way you are always there when someone needs to talk...that’s worth falling in love with. Not to mention your gorgeous eyes, beautiful hair, smile, and body....you might’ve not gotten the whole team to fall in love with you, but you sure captured my heart. And I will do ANYTHING, to protect you and make sure you’re always appreciated.”

With tears in your eyes, you couldn’t believe that the man you have been in love with for the past 5 years was finally admitting his love. “Well, it’s about damn time you finally told me, Barnes.” With a soft giggle from both of you, Bucky leaned in to seal the special moment with a passionate kiss. Your lips molded together as your tongues danced, and passion enveloped you both. Cupping his face, you pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “Thank you, Bucky. I always thought I could fix all of my broken pieces, but I’ve learned that I don’t have to fight it alone. All I ever wanted was you to be mine, and to have someone who could accept me.” With his signature smirk, Bucky kissed you back. “And you are damn right I’m all yours and you are perfect in my eyes.” 

Capturing another kiss, Bucky pulled apart abruptly. “Oh! And I really want to apologize for being extremely rude to you. I have a terrible way of controlling my frustration. How can I make it up to you?” Smirking, you ran your hand across his chest. “Well you can repay me later tonight, but for now....you owe me some pancakes.” Bucky roared in laughter. “Sorry Doll, no can do. My pancakes are not as good as yours. Dry and chalky, that is.” Laughing, Bucky quickly ran back into your room before you could hound him for his teasing. “You’re gonna pay for that, Barnes!!!!”, you yelled chasing after him.

If perfect meant constant teasing and falling in love over and over with the man of your dreams....you’d take that over pancakes any day. ;)

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A/N: It’s good to be back! Hope you all enjoyed this quick lil story. PLEASE LIKE, REBLOG, and SHARE COMMENTS! Always welcome! As well as requests!!!!

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[yume-x-hanabi]

Family - Chapter 3

Translation of chapter 3 of the short story from the ToX2 scenario book. (See my masterpost for other chapters.)

(Note: this is a very rough translation. I’ll need an editor when I’m done with this story orz)

CW: graphic description of violence

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Chapter 3

Julius untied his bandage and looked at his red-colored left hand. The burn had healed and it didn't hurt anymore, but there still remained scar that caught people's attention, as well as the sensation of his skin being pulled. In the locker room of Spirius Corporation’s Department of Dimensional Affairs, Julius covered his hand with a black leather glove. He closed this fist and opened it. The soft pony leather glove fit perfectly.

After that, he took out his glasses from his jacket's pocket and put them on. He looked at himself in the mirror inside his locker. Those were fake glasses without corrective lenses. They felt weird on his face. They softened the sharpness of his gaze and made him look like a goody two shoes.

But that was fine. After all, he was a god of death masquerading as a human to approach his fellows and consume their lives. He must conceal his true nature. He could not let anyone be scared of him. Anyone.

Julius quietly closed his locker. Time to start working.

In the file a support agent handed him, there was information about a new fractured dimension scanned by the Kudlak.

           Fractured Dimension No.F41A5 Data Transmission

           Depth: 121       Variation: 0.35       Entry Point: Duval

           Teammate: …

Julius closed his eyes and let the light of his mind run through the darkness, searching for the coordinates; the light converged toward a point and made contact. The entry point opened up. The next moment, Julius jumped into the fractured dimension.

In the prime dimension, Duval used to be a port town south-east of Trigleph that throve on fishing. However, the town lost its shine when the world declined, and became a dangerous area where crime flourished. This fractured dimension’s Duval station had a similar rough atmosphere. Dressed in a fine suit uncharacteristic of the area, Julius stood out like a sore thumb and attracted hostile gazes. Cautious of not letting his guard down lest he invited pickpockets, Julius looked for something out of the ordinary.

“Bunch of hyenas,” he spat in his mind.

“Sorry for the wait, partner,” a funny voice called from behind him. His teammate had arrived.

“Who said you could call me partner, Rideaux?”

Without looking back, Julius swiftly sidestepped a shiny shoe aimed his way from behind.

“What?!”

When the ugly shoe missed its mark—Julius’ back—the leg attached to it lost its balance and its owner, Rideaux, fumbled forward.

“Let me show you how you kick someone’s back.” Julius kicked the now defenseless man with all his force.

“Guwah!”

Julius’ colleague, who was only a year older, fell to the ground ungracefully, and got up while coughing painfully.

“Why did you do that?!”

“There was a venomous snake on your back, so I crushed it for you.”

“Then I must… thank you… Oh?” As he was about to return the favor, Rideaux’s fist stopped in midair. “Glasses?” A twisted smile distorted his angry face. “Ha ha ha ha! That’s good, that’s perfect! It suits you so well! Did you take my words to heart, boss?”

“I don’t care what you think, but can you stop calling me that?”

“So, who’s the lucky one you want to hide your evil look from? Did you get a girlfriend or something?”

Julius did not answer.

“Am I right? You need to introduce me to that poor woman later.”

Behind the fake glasses, Julius’ eyes clouded in anger.

“For the sake of your love life and your fake glasses, I’ll forgive you for that kick, boss.”

Julius steeled himself to slap off the hand Rideaux was extending toward his shoulder, but that hand suddenly slammed into him and pushed him aside.

“Wha?!”

A knife embedded itself onto the ground, and a man clad in black jumped after it. An orange-gloved hand grabbed the knife and thrust it at Rideaux in the same movement.

Rideaux parried nonchalantly. “Aren’t you an impatient one, Mr. Nameless Thug?”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear anything from a Spirius agent after you lot sold off our organization, Orange Gear!”

Understanding the situation, Rideaux shrugged. “Ooh, so in this dimension, our company is making deals that incur terrorists’ ire.”

“Don’t you act surprised!”

Julius knew that Rideaux was trying to do something similar in the prime dimension.

“If you two think you can survive this…”

Before the man finished his sentence, Julius’ sword slashed through his stomach. “Be quiet.”

In an instant, the terrorist was rendered unable to fight, and his body hit the ground.

“Always alert, huh.”

Julius swung the sword to shake off the blood from its tip.

“Oh? It wouldn’t be like you not to be alert in this town.” Rideaux smirked.

“I was talking about you. You stole one of my swords when you pushed me.”

Julius retrieved the sword from Rideaux’s hands by force.

“I just thought I should give you a handicap. He’s just a low level thug from a terrorist organization.”

The man was oozing blood from his stomach. On his chest, a pin in the shape of an orange gear glinted.

“Heh, is that badge a sign of the terrorist group?”

“Look at those fools taking pride in being treated as cogs in a machine.”

When Julius bent down to take off the badge, the man sat up and tried to grab him. Wordlessly, Julius took out his blades and stuck them through the man’s throat, finishing him on the ground.

“I collected them as a child… Those shiny things the assemblymen and directors who came into my house had pinned to their suits…”

Watching Julius smile as he played with the badge in his hand, even as his cheek was red with the man’s blood, Rideaux felt that something in his partner had shifted.

“Stop smiling, brat!” someone shouted angrily.

Several hot-blooded men formed a human wall around them, as though they were trying to block their path. They all wore the same badge as the dead man.

“Here come his buddies…” Rideaux started counting them aloud with exaggerated gestures.

Like any good terrorist group worth its name, the Orange Gear did not simply block out the street, but also had members aiming their weapons at them from the nearby buildings’ windows.

“Too bad, I don’t have enough fingers to count them all.”

“Hey you, the one in red with the stupid bob, you better shut your mouth or I’ll kill you!”

“You’ll kill me… Nice.”

Julius’ lips formed a faint smile. “Shall we compete, Rideaux?”

“…Compete?”

“This world is doomed anyway. Let’s see who can gather the most badges. You’re not the type to say no to games, are you?”

“You…”

Rideaux was surprised by Julius’ proposition to make killing a game. At the same time, a shiver ran down his back. The spyrix in his gut stirred. The darkness behind Julius’ glasses…

“Julius, you know… You really do have the most evil eyes.” Rideaux laughed and took out his knives, holding three in each hand.

Julius cut through the mountain of corpses at his feet with his two blades.

The members of the Orange Gear lunged at him with a scream.

Countless badges fell from the sky along with droplets of blood.

[samsbastardzone]

Hey, you know that 35 d&d questions ask meme? I answered all of them.

This is a long ass post. Be warned. It took up seven and a half pages in google docs. Original post here.

1. A favorite character you have played.

Would have to be Zize Fortier, dragonborn gunslinger. Their tag on this blog is #zize and you can find their bio and info on my character page. Love that bastard!! He’s sweet and bratty and a total delight to play (we are such an OP party, y’all).

2. Your favorite character that someone else has played.

UM UM gonna talk about a few here. To be fair to people I play a *lot* of games with, I’m only gonna  talk about one PC per person.

- The bastard trio in my Wildemount game– @toomanyorphans ’s Nakoria, @overplannedbutunnamednpc ‘s Zier (also an NPC in the campaign Zize is in), and @glasyasbutch ‘s Nissy. They all really suck so bad but in SUCH funny ways. They’re varying degrees of self centered and awful, but we trust each other in this campaign, and those 3 players are SO funny in their RP.

- (RIP) Avri in my Wildemount game. They and Bly named each other,,,,  they were parent and child…… VERY sweet. huge goliath with tiny bird in backpack.

- @bekahdoesnershit ‘s Raini. Zize’s BFF, and her tag on that blog is rich. She’s SUCH a bitch but we love her.

- @bhissar ‘s Saela. She is a dream character for me to DM for– very little fleshed out backstory with room to explore, with still-concrete events in it. Consistent character choices and personality, to the point I can sometimes predict what she’ll do. Very cool aesthetically. And overall? EXTREMELY sweet. Baby, baby bird.

3. Your favorite side quest.

Either the one going on right now in amnesia, where we have to collect brain matter from big powerful elementals, or the stop we made at a family of vampires in Acarnya (the one I played Osfyr in).

4. Your current campaign.

There are five of those, with two on hold. 

-Wildemount, aka the Frozen Sick module from Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount (we’re almost done with that, my PC is Bly). 

-Amnesia campaign aka high level campaign: we woke up in hell with no memories! PC is Zize. 

-Hoard of the Dragon Queen module, near the beginning of that, PC is Pointy. 

-Horror campaign, only two sessions so far, but we’re trapped in an alternate dimension carrying out tasks for a creepy dude. PC is Vinny. 

-Kithan, where we’re high level monster hunting guild members searching  out ancient artifacts of the gods (campaign based on the Monster Hunter games), PC is Topaz.

-Silas, party is currently trying to help dragons free themselves and stop a… dude? No spoilers! I DM. On hold because I had too many campaigns going at once.

-Silas v2: extremely vaguely based on the plot of season one of the web series Carmilla. A tweaked version of the first arc the Silas party went through. On hold because it was played in person at school.

5. Favorite NPC.

I don’t really have any NPCs in my campaigns that I’m super attached to, except– Nikeo, a goliath rogue PC in Silas 1, had many adopted children. Three of them– kobolds– sometimes stand on each others’ shoulders, put on a long coat, and help out around their parent’s store. They’ve named themselves Koby.

As for favorite NPCs in campaigns I’ve played, I can think of… a lot. The first is Laurel, a blue dragonborn loner type who followed Osfyr and friends in Acarnya. They were kind of broody and dark, but they really drew me in. They were the first NPC we really talked to– they were sitting on top of the post office laughing at the mob scene of people protesting not getting their mail delivered.

I’d also pick Osfyr’s partners in that campaign– Yelkian, a backstory love interest I came up with, a flamboyant soft sorcerer. Jupiter, politician’s niece, who took pity on Osfyr’s attempts to seduce information out of her and let them succeed on both counts (seduction and information). Xerxes, extra AF rogue with a big loving family, who swept in after a fight on the back of an eagle-wildshaped Brysth (npc druid). 

There’s a blue dragon in the HOTDQ campaign that we don’t know much about. I really enjoyed the way @dungeonsanddraconicqueer played him. He’s just a dude! Lex’s warlock made a Deal with him to leave the town alone. We still don’t know the implications of that. It’s fine, guys.

And then, there’s Stewart the Skin Steward, a servant of False Mystra. Fun dude.  Very cavalier– nigh, enthusiastic!– about the fact that his entire city was made of skin. Something of a skin connoisseur, in fact!

6. Favorite death (monster, player character, NPC, etc).

Saela, hands down. She got breathed on by a dragon, yo. We then had to stop playing for 4-5 months because a player lost access to the Internet. I wrote a vision/speech from her warlock patron, the Raven Queen, the night she died, and basically didn’t touch it until I read it out in game. It involved a confession that the Queen was  tired of being a god, and showing Saela all the lives she’d touched. Then we used Matt Mercer’s rez rules for her. She came back– but it was her choice.

7. Your favorite downtime activity.

Fucking tinkering dude!!! I don’t get to do it enough as Zize and that is entirely my fault. @ morgan, eyes emoji

8. Your favorite fight/encounter.

I LOVE creepy shit. There was a train car with people dancing in it, and party members got enchanted to dance along and eat the food,  and the revelers were clearly in pain, and snuffing out a candle caused a reveler to disappear. Creepy shit!

In Kithan, we had to climb a staircase, and we timed it with produce flame which is a 10 minute duration cantrip, and we were climbing for 50 minutes. We started to see things in the edges of our vision. Then someone realized it was an illusion, and it all vanished. It freaked me out so bad.

In amnesia campaign, at level 19, we were traversing a cave, and our shadows started dripping the same black goop we were there to investigate. We killed one and it took down the max hp of the person whose shadow it was, and then they straight up didn’t have a shadow until they long rested. It really freaked us out, realizing the shadows were actually creatures, but they were like CR 1. Really effective use of a low level monster.

9. Your favorite thing about D&D.

The way it has something for everyone… the way it’s brought me so many friends… the way it’s inspired my OC creation like nothing else.

10. Your favorite enemy and the enemy you hate the most.

I’m not sure if this is asking about NPCs I’ve had as enemies, or any monster in D&D canon? The longest campaign I played in didn’t have long term enemies  per se. I’d say I was frustrated with the cultists that ambushed us last session in HOTDQ,  but I didn’t hate them! I just couldn’t seem to hit or dodge them. As for a favorite… probably False Mystra: the demon lord Orcus who’d taken over  the position, and therefore the duties, of Mystra, the god of arcane magic.  We killed it,  but then whoopso!! Our wizard lost her powers.

11. How often do you play and how often would you ideally like to play?

I play an ideal amount, honestly: four times a week, for about 2.5-3 hours a session. HOTDQ Tuesdays, Kithan and horror campaign switching off Wednesdays, Wildemount Thursdays cause we miss CR, Amnesia Sundays.

12. Your in game inside jokes/memes/catchphrases and where they came from.

Amnesia: Yocheved, the party barbarian/full time fish, has a secret third arm and/or a prosthetic ass. Cylthia, the druid, does arson (but actually). Relentless is a Crown paladin, so she puts her fingers in her ears when we do crime/lie. She also has a rod of lordly might that, immediately post amnesia, she made into a 32 foot climbing pole. Yocheved eats pounds and pounds of raw fish for every meal.

Wildemount: just the shenanigans and sabotaging each other that the Bastard Trio get into. Example: Nissy was tasked with buying Zier a cloak for cold weather and purposely got him an  ugly one. Zier then prestidigitated it to be a nicer color.

13. Introduce your current party.

Oh boy, I have 6 of those. Here goes. Keep in mind many of these characters are played and games are DMed by my friends who have OC blogs of their own: Raini and Ayen are bekahdoesnerdshit, Ezra, Nissy, and Roona are glasyasbutch, Horror DM, Lent, Eve, and Nakoria are toomanyorphans, Wildemount DM, Saela, Daecyne, and Cylthia are bhissar, HOTDQ DM is dungeonsanddraconicqueer, and Amnesia DM, Zier, Nyxi, and Sarril are overplannedbutunnamednpc. Not an OC blog, but Yocheved, Avri, Arbor, Thraf, Nikeo, and Whisper are mickgoesabsolutelyhamforbarbie.

Amnesia (Zize): Lent, tiefling paladin, former crownsguard who “fell” (became an oathbreaker), then un-fell when we lost our memories. Cylthia, tiefling/elf druid who can shift between tiefling and elf forms and loves setting things on fire. Yocheved, 14 foot tall nereid (fishfolk) barbarian with a dry sense of humor, is the party parent. And Raini, aasimar wizard, sass machine and Zize’s bff.

HOTDQ. My PC is Pointy. Ezra, quiet human paladin. Theata, moon elf rogue. Freya, sweet (human?) light cleric who sometimes misreads situations. Eve, 13 year old (!!) human warlock who kinda sucks, but like, she’s 13. Nyxi, motherly gnome bard who Is going to adopt Pointy. 

Wildemount (Bly): Alene, human barbarian. Quiet and with somewhat of a parent instinct. Some sort of Mysterious Backstory. Delta, aasimar rogue, similarly shady backstory? Unclear. Sticks with Alene. Nissy, drow rune knight, sucks. Zier, drow sorcerer, also sucks. Nakoria, dragonborn warlock, ALSO sucks. (Those three make up the Bastard Trio.) Avri (F for them), goliath bard and Avri’s guardian, died last session by falling on a floor full of knives. 

Horror campaign (Vinny): Roona, halfling bard, very impulsive, eats exclusively with her spoon that says ASS, and chills in Vinny’s fanny pack. Ayen, elven teenage warlock with a dark backstory. Sarril, Ayen’s not-dad, half elf beast barbarian who got it from his wife. Arbor, dryad  monk, who wears an all white plague doctor outfit at all times.

Silas v1 (DM), Original party before 1 left and 1 died: Hacka (RIP), human luchador-styled drunken monk. Nikeo (left), goliath rogue with so many adopted children. Inferno, fire genasi paladin/phoenix sorcerer with anger and impulse control issues. Saela, babiest aarakocra warlock of the Raven Queen. Hacka’s player now plays Voda, a stoic water genasi tempest cleric who cast Raise Dead successfully on Saela. Nikeo’s player now plays Whisper, a tabaxi astral soul monk.

Kithan (Topaz): Thraf, monsterborn (universe-compliant dragonborn) barbarian. Very social, very outgoing, very stupid, and very traumatized. Fucks majorly. Daecyne, sweet tiefling druid and Topaz’s good friend. Viosa, aasimar homebrew class I forget the name of, uses her small stature and allure to her advantage. Damur, half-orc eldritch knight, the party’s only braincell.

14. Introduce any other parties you have played in or DM-ed.

Acarnya. My PC was Osfyr. Soraphine, traumatized halfling bard. Azalea, human fighter. Durzuell, haughty high elf sorcerer. James, nerdy half elf wizard. Drago, erratic Russian dragonborn monk. Kairon, slightly edgy ranger/paladin (but we love him). 

Nordenheim. My PC was Cap. I will admit: we only played 2 or 3 sessions, so I don’t really remember  most of the other party members except Rory, a fire genasi ranger who almost burned to death.

Silas v2 (hopefully will continue; I DMed): Kysseris IV. Half-elf paladin, uptight. Tower 1-6, warforged wizard who crawled out of the desert and is looking for info on how he was made. Mae “Pock”, gnome rogue, very small and  sweet. Josh, human trickery cleric, kind of an asshole, but in a way that’s funny and hasn’t bled over into IRL annoying.

[school] West Marches campaign (Ner): by the nature of West Marches, there was never a consistent party, but a few stood out to me. Red Foot, a hyperactive kobold sorcerer who’s level 8 against all West Marches odds. Lyra, Great Old One warlock of Tzee’Mhor, an abomination goat that a party I was in accidentally created. Fildo Baggins, divination wizard who can only affect allies whose toenail clippings he has in his vial.

15. Do you have snacks during game times?

Hell yeah babey!!! I mostly play digitally, especially during COVID, and I need something to munch after DMing for a while. Shit’s exhausting.

16. Do you play online or in person? Which do you prefer?

Welp! Online mostly, since everyone I want to play with has the audacity to live far away, and now exclusively online because of COVID.

17. What are some house rules that your group has?

Our Amnesia party is so rich that we just don’t keep track of money. In Kithan, a lot of rules that make characters less powerful are just… abolished (like the bonus action spell rule). (The DM likes super OP characters so she can throw SUPER OP monsters at us.  My character has a necklace that gives 5 additional uses of channel divinity.)

18. Does your party keep any pets?

Nope. No opportunities for them. Zize’s party has a little water snake on the druid’s arm but I doubt that will last very long.

19. Do you or your party have any dice superstitions?

Absolutely. Cursed dice get j a i l.

20. How did you get into D&D? How long have you been playing?

Acarnya got me into d&d, it was my first campaign, and it was happening at the place I lived. I’ve been playing almost 2 years. (Critical Role inspired me to DM)

21. Have you ever regretted something your character has done?

Not sent a fucking letter to say goodbye to their boyfriend before the world-fate-deciding bullshit that was gonna happen and possibly destroy shit. It was fine in the end though!

22. What color was your first dragon?

Red. Man, that guy sucked, he almost killed Osfyr. We were investigating a monastery secretly run by dragons disguised as humans.

23. Do you use premade modules or original campaigns?

Original campaigns. I’ve never run a module before! I’m not opposed, but most of my campaigns came from ideas  that I had. I’ve never been short on ideas for a game.

24. How much planning/preparation do you do for a game?

As a player, I just open my character sheet and get out dice. As a DM, I try and think about what material I want to get through this session, and write some narration and/or stat things out if I feel like it.

For DMs

25. What have your players done that you never could have planned for?

A lot of times, Inferno has rushed into battle from what I’d built as a stealth mission, and gotten her ass and sometimes the party’s asses kicked. I should really have learned by now.

26. What was your favorite scene to write and show your characters?

Definitely Saela’s resurrection ritual and vision.

27. Do you allow homebrew content?

Yes! I’ll check it first,  but I’m all for expanding the boundaries. I homebrew items and monsters all the time, why shouldn’t my payers get to homebrew their shit?

28. How often do you use NPCs in a party?

Too often in my first arc. I had like 7 NPCs running around at all times (they were Carmilla characters). Super not recommended. I have 0 right now.

29. Do you prefer RP heavy sessions or combat sessions?

I’m still finding my groove with RP as a DM. I like encouraging my players to RP amongst themselves. I consider myself fairly good at combat on both sides of the equation, DM and player, so that’s always fun to me, especially when my players enjoy it too.

30. Are your players diplomatic or murder hobos?

I have one actively reforming murder hobo player, the rest are diplomatic. (The character, Inferno, is having a great growth arc. I’m super proud.)

For Players

31. What is your favorite class? Favorite race?

I fucking love genasi as a concept. Favorite class would have to be rogue or cleric, but gunslinger’s up there too.

32. What role do you like to play the most? (Tank/healer/etc?)

I  honestly don't have the patience to not play DPS. I love doing lots of damage. Healing is satisfying, support is satisfying, but there’s a reason I picked rogue twice and tempest cleric over other domains.

33. How do you write your backstory, or do you even write a backstory?

Sometimes the backstory is part of the character concept– especially for Pointy, because I had the name first, then went hmm why would she have this name. Almost always, though, more backstory gets written during the campaign when I have an idea. Sometimes a character will act in a way I don’t expect, and it’s fun thinking of a justification to fill backstory gaps.

34. Do you tend to pick weapons/spells for being useful or for flavor?

Mostly  usefulness honestly. I’ll make choices among several for flavor, but I’m a big proponent of using mechanics to build character. What I mean is, think about Magnus in TAZ Balance– his protection fighting style contributed a lot to the way Travis played him as a protective person. I love that shit.

35. How much roleplay do you like to do?

I like to do a lot, but unfortunately my  energy is pretty down lately so I haven’t been doing as much.

[dracocean]

La La Lost You (Draco Malfoy Fic) - Ch. 1

❝ 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞. ❞  | Wattpad Link

Word Count: 3, 357

Summary: To be honest, Renee and Draco's relationship is as complicated as it is. Besides her brother and him being destined rivals, Draco discovered that he had a soft side for Renee - even though he hates to admit it. It all started last year when they had an argument in Potions class and it just so happened it ended with them making out in the third floor girl's bathroom. Did they like each other? That they were unsure. Did they still continue hooking up? Definitely.

Chapter 1

"Have it your way," she said before disapparating to Merlin knows where.

Lily Renee Potter has always been a cunning and sneaky girl. Much to a lot of people's surprise, she's quite the opposite of her infamous twin, Harry Potter - yes that Harry Potter. A lot of people aren't really aware that she exists since Voldemort attempted to kill Harry first which obviously backfired, pegging Harry as the boy who lived or whatnot. All Renee knew was that if she was the first target of that unforgivable curse, then she would probably not live to experience the joys of partying.

Always out and about, Renee never feared the Dursley's petty rules of staying indoors. She would always sneak out in the middle of the night to wander around bustling London. Compared to her brother, Renee enjoys the company of Muggles. Acquainted with the social media trend, Renee has quite an audience who enjoys her food reviews and fashion sense. Oddly enough, she's glad that she lives behind her brother's shadow because she gets to enjoy the joys of the non-wizarding world.

Walking through the lively Soho district, she enters a pub filled with plenty of people. She moves past several drunk guys until finally reaching one of her friends, Zoe. Oddly enough, she's the only one she could trust despite her being a Muggle. They used to be good friends back in Muggle primary school and ever since then, they were partners in crime when it comes to sneaking around with their fake IDs. Zoe was fully aware of Renee's roots which took a lot of convincing growing up, but she eventually learned to see her best friend for who she is.

"Hey!" Zoe screamed amidst the loud audio. "You chopped off your hair!"

Renee's hands instinctively went to her short bob, touching the strands that now rested on the level of her throat. Just like any other girl, the spontaneous decision eventually crept into her mind as she dyed half of it blonde. Now she was left with black hair from her roots, and a bright platinum blonde color trailing her strands towards the end.

"Yeah," she replies. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret it tomorrow though."

"Nonsense!" Zoe says. "You look a hundred times better!"

"Lies!" she says jokingly as she takes a sip of her drink. The music was blaring as usual but she really wasn't in the mood to party tonight. She just wanted a time out from everything, especially since she was going back to Hogwarts tomorrow. She can't help but think about what Harry said about the possibility of Voldemort coming back stronger. With so much attention from the school, the Ministry, and even their friends, it's hard to miss the impending doom they were about to face. As much as she doesn't like thinking about it, the thought of losing her brother crept up every once in a while - especially after the conversation they had earlier.

It didn't take long for Zoe to realize her glum expression as she said, "is something bothering you?"

"It's nothing, Harry and I got into a fight," she replied.

"Oh bummer. What happened?" she asked as she took another swig of her beer.

"Just something stupid," Renee lied, not bothering to explain how Harry didn't want her to go to Hogwarts this year. Did he really think she would allow him to face that noseless prick alone? Did he think she couldn't handle it? And did he really think he could get away with it because he's the chosen one?

Renee chugs down her bottle empty as she tries to forget about it. Although she loves her best friend, she utterly hates the pitiful expression she has whenever they would talk about these things - especially since these problems were way beyond her.

Renee didn't have that many friends - may it be in Hogwarts or in England. Sure, she has several connections from brands, but never a close circle wherein she could confide to. Bottling up her emotions was fairly normal for her as she was the Slytherin counterpart of her brother.

"Hey I'm gonna go get some air," she says before disappearing into the large crowd. She makes her way to the building's rooftop and sits down on the ledge. Ever since she became a regular in this pub, the rooftop eventually became one of her favorite places to stay since nobody usually goes up there. Whenever she needed time to think or just space out, it was definitely her go to.

She sat at the far end corner, just behind the entrance - the usual. The lights on the roof evaded her position, making her blend in with the darkness. Her feet dangled about 10 feet into the air as she closed her eyes.

If only it could just stay like this forever, she thought. She looks at the beautiful London skyline, taking in the view she knew she would miss when she goes back to Hogwarts. Obviously the castle is legendary and magical as it is, although a small part of her wishes she wasn't part of that world - the world that brought so much trauma to her brother, the world that demanded so much from them, and the world that made them lose their parents. It was all just too much to handle for seventeen year old Renee.

   She hears a loud thud in the rooftop door as she instinctively takes out her wand. She hides the weapon behind her as she carefully watches the boy who unwelcomingly distrubed her solace. Without warning, the boy kicks the plastic chair in front of him. He was muttering curses as he let out his frustration on the low grade polymer chair.

   Well this is awkward, she thought. He probably doesn't know he's not alone.

   "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." he says. Still kicking the poor plastic as if it wasn't lifeless to begin with, Renee looks at him curiously as it reaches the other side of the roof. His anger didn't seem to cease as the chair retained its ergonomically practical design.

   Renee didn't judge him though, life could be a bitch sometimes and it just so happens that this guy had a way of expressing his sorrows unlike her. She found herself almost jealous of him for it though - almost.

Now he's holding the chair up with his arms and much to her dismay, it landed near her. The sound of the immortal low grade polymer crashing to the cement being the only thing that stood between her and the boy.

   "Well, fuck." she mutters under her breath.

   "Who are you?" the boy asks in an accusing tone, neglecting his dreadful opponent made of plastic. He steps into the light, his bright blonde hair giving his features a glow.

   Renee squints as she covers her mouth in shock. "No way! What are you doing here?" She stands up and walks towards the boy who looked just as shocked as her.

   "Potter?" he hisses. "What are you doing here?!"

   "I'm surprised to see you too Malfoy," Renee rolls her eyes as she relaxes her grip on her wand. She looks at the boy in awe, remembering how it's been two months since they last saw each other. She softens at the though of him, the only boy she's ever grown to like. Unlike her brother, Draco Malfoy surprisingly didn't really bother her that much - well at least not anymore. Of course he was a rude little git to most people in Hogwarts, but Renee and Draco had a special connection - one that involved lust and cravings.

   "I didn't know a pure-blood like you would bother exploring this horrendous Muggle rooftop," she says sarcastically. "Now tell me what in the world did this chair do to you?"

   He rolled his eyes as he took out a cigarette from his pocket. With a blank expression, Renee looks at him from head to toe. He obviously looked like he'd seen better days judging from his disheveled blonde hair, his loose dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, and the dark circles under his eyes. As much as Renee was in shock of his state and how the hell he obtained cigarettes, she was tired enough as it is to bother. Draco looks out to the horizon, both his elbows resting on the ledge beside Renee, as she found herself mimicking his actions.

It was quiet - a surprisingly comfortable silence which she was thankful for. Both of them stayed like that as Draco inhaled the tobacco in his system, releasing a puff of smoke into the air. He passes the cigar to her, without even looking her way. She takes it from him, and with a deep breath, does the same.

"I despise your brother, you know that right?" Draco says bitterly, still looking straight ahead.

"You don't say," she snorts, taking in another swig of the silent killing machine. "If it makes you feel better, he doesn't really like you too."

This time, he laughs. Renee looks at him, seeing the wrinkles at the bottom of his smile and the way he nonchalantly brushes off his hair. If Harry would have been here, there would be no doubt he would protectively drag her away from his sworn enemy. Instead here she was, observing the small details her proximal view of him had to offer.

Draco shifts as he catches her looking at him. With a smirk he says, "like what you see?"

"Not really, you just look hideous," which turned out to be both a lie and a truth. To be honest, Renee and Draco's relationship is as complicated as it is. Besides her brother and him being destined rivals, Draco discovered that he had a soft side for Renee - even though he hates to admit it. It all started last year when they had an argument in Potions class and it just so happened it ended with them making out in the third floor girl's bathroom. Did they like each other? That they were unsure. Did they still continue hooking up? Definitely.

This caused him to shoot her an annoyed glare which she reciprocated with a laugh. "You're slowly killing yourself, you know," she says.

Draco's face grew pale as he looked at her with a shocked expression. He wasn't sure what she meant by it but somehow, he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Renee notices his tense expression, wondering why he took it so seriously. She motions to the cigarette between his fingers, "those are deadly."

Just like that, his shoulders managed to relax as if he'd been holding his breath underwater. Everything about the night felt weird on so many levels.

He drops the stick on to the pavement, stepping on it to put out the small fire. He paces toward the far end of the roof, and to her surprise, takes the low grade polymer chair and sets it in front of her.

"Sit."

Normally she wouldn't do what he says, but again, the night was weird. She sat on the chair as Draco sat on the ledge of the roof, but instead of looking at the horizon, he was facing her. The moonlight gives his exhausted features a bit of glow as he looks at her with his intense gaze. He opens his mouth to say something but decides to keep it to himself. He was acting very strange right now, especially since Renee was used to seeing the confident and dignified Draco Malfoy walking along the hallways of Hogwarts like he owns the place. But right now, all she could see was a boy drowning in his thoughts, unsure about where the night would lead him.

"So are we just going to act like this isn't awkward at all?" Renee breaks the silence as she looks at Draco, his mouth forming a small smirk.

"I don't think we're close enough to share our family issues with each other," he spats. "Not that you would know, your parents are dead."

She knew she had every right to be offended, but his insults were getting rather unoriginal. "At least I'm not the one beating up a chair. Clearly someone has more problems."

Renee stands up, heading towards the door. Having a peaceful moment with Draco Malfoy was obviously too good to be true. As much as she disliked reuniting with some random strangers downstairs, she thought it would be better than wasting her time with this evil little cockroach.

"Hey where are you going?" he calls out to her. Seeing how she wasn't looking back, he disapparated in front of the door, holding it down before she could open it.

"I'm sorry." he says in a low tone, almost like a whisper. "Stay?"

Renee heaves out a sigh as she makes her way back into the chair. She sees the regretful look on Draco's face as he scratches the back of his head. The awkward atmosphere was clearly enough to make both of them uneasy.

"I escaped from a party at the Manor," Draco says silently. "I didn't like being surrounded by.."

He looks to his side and then to Renee as he lets out a huge sigh, "my family's friends."

Renee wasn't stupid enough to not know that the Malfoys were associated to Death Eaters, it was basically a common fact. She could see his bothered expression as he looked at his shoes. Although Draco and Renee weren't the best of friends, she had a grasp of his personality based on their encounters. Contrary to hasty generalizations, Slytherins do have feelings - they just don't show it to most people. What annoyed Renee was how the other houses easily judge them for their desire for success when in reality, a lot of work is poured into it. Being cunning and resourceful might take a part of it but the constant effort to be better than themselves is a trait that tends to be misunderstood. Same goes with emotions - not every Slytherin manifests hate, they have vulnerable sides as well.

If there was anything she felt towards Draco other than the understandable annoyance, it would be sympathy. Behind his dignified family name, he looks rather burdened with it - even though he doesn't admit it.

"I don't judge," she says as she looks at the stars above them. He swallowed the lump on his throat as it occurred to him that she knows, she knows. "And I don't blame you either."

Draco looks at her intently. His eyes locked into hers as they trailed down to her lips. She prayed that the darkness would hide the blush creeping on her cheeks. She hated how he had this effect on her - it prevents her from thinking of any witty comebacks.

A smirk was plastered on Draco's face as he got on his feet. He grabbed the other unharmed low grade polymer chair as he set it beside her. Renee looks at him, feeling rather hot than when she came into the rooftop just a while ago. She crosses her arms, pulling her coat closer to her body.

"I miss having sex with you," Draco blurted out.

This caused Renee to cough - really loud. That was the last thing she expected him to say, especially after such a sensitive topic. Too many nights caught up in each other's skin eventually lead to him saying it so casually. As much as she hates to admit it, Renee knew that deep down that there was more to her attachment to Draco. A small part of her regrets how she easily allows herself to be consumed by him yet still continues to ignore the thought as much as she can.

Renee remembered the first time they did it when Draco made it clear he didn't want any strings attached in their whole ordeal. She wasn't sure why she agreed when it was obvious that being really close to him made her heart flutter. Perhaps it was safe to say that she had a bit of hope he would eventually learn to like her, but it's been going on for months yet the nicest thing he's ever said to her was to not get caught whenever she sneaks out his dorm. Of course she feels pathetic - but she's here, with him and she forgets about her feelings for a while.

"Sorry, I don't really have sex with people I just meet on some random rooftop," she teases. Draco's cheeky grin appeared and it took every fiber Renee had to prevent her from crashing her lips into his.

"How far would you go then?" he asks, resting his hand on her knee. Renee could feel chills in her entire body as he moved his thumb back and forth. Draco notices her off-guard expression as he trails his hands up to her waist, holding the hem of her shirt.

"Is this too far?" he suggested cockily.

"Not even close," she managed to breathe out.

Draco took this as a sign to move his hands up higher, gently massaging her breast. The cold London air sending her goosebumps as Draco bit his lip, obviously amused at his own doing. Renee closes her eyes in approval as a small moan escapes her lips. This was the last thing she ever imagined doing tonight.

Her body squirms under his touch as she shifts herself closer to him. She bites her lip as his other hand squeezes her bum. She felt too much, all at once. Initially, she really didn't mind the two months of vacation but this night made her remember all the things she had been missing out.

She looks at him. She sees the boy that fills her thoughts, body and cravings. She sees the boy that hides behind his confident aura to compensate for the love he never had. She sees the boy who could never give her half of what she feels for him.

Out of nowhere, the door to the roof swings open as a drunk man stumbles outside. Both Draco and Renee instinctively fixed themselves, hoping they didn't look too obvious. She could see Draco's cocky grin from her peripheral view and she just really wanted to punch him at that moment. Much to their relief, the man fainted even before saying something to them. Draco stands up as he straightens the creases of his pants, looking at a flustered Renee.

"Well that's enough fun for tonight," Draco winks at her. "I should really head back to the Manor before they find out I'm gone."

Renee rolls her eyes as she says, "of course they would know by now. You were taking much of your time."

"See you tomorrow, angel." He smirked before disapparating back to his home.

To say that Renee was disappointed of herself was an understatement. She doesn't know why she even bothers, she was breaking the first rule in casual hookups. It wasn't good for both of them, especially given her brother's relationship with him. She knew that getting involved with Draco this year would make things more complicated. Then it occurred to her - the excitement and pain all at once as she thought of the boy with bright blonde hair.

Just on cue, Renee's phone beeped. She looked at the sender as she tried to hide the smile forming on her lips. 'Your hair suits you.'

She knew she was definitely going to regret this, but all she could think about was that all her demons had his smile. It was in the form of Draco Malfoy.

[jaqaryafics]

Partners in Crime - Jaqarya One Shot

Summary: Arya left Harrenhal with Jaqen. After years of training, they're the most lethal duo in Westeros. Arya's list is growing shorter as the time passes...

Notes: My first request, requested by @redismycolourposts : Jaqen and Arya on a mission together, please?

Sorry it look me this long, please let me know what you think! c:

"Are we going to kill Cersei?" Arya struggled to keep up with Jaqen's pace as they were walking through the streets of King's Landing, headed to the Red Keep. Jaqen promised her she could offer the names one by one, and so far, he had kept his promise. Of course, he had his own list to complete, but for her, he tracked down and killed Ilyn Payne and Meryn Trant, with Arya by his side. She insisted that she would be the one to deliver the last, life ending blow to Ilyn Payne, and Jaqen couldn't have denied her that pleasure. He didn't worry about her skills, she was a perfect little killing machine. During the years spent together, a man and a girl were each other's only friends. Sometimes, more than friends. On missions they almost always posed as husband and wife, they always shared a bed and when sleeping under the stars, they kept each other warm by spooning. The exact term on their relationship was unspoken, but the kisses said more than any words could.

"No. It's too soon. But there's someone, close to the Queen, killing him will make it easier to kill the Queen and his name is on a girl's list." Jaqen looked at her and smiled.

"The Mountain." Arya whispered.

"Ser Gregor Clegane is a personal Queensguard to Cersei. He never leaves her side." Jaqen smirked, knowing that making it sound impossible will make Arya more excited.

"It will take more than one life then." Arya's reaction was exactly what he expected, snarky, determined, with a hint of a smile. "A man will take those lives on his own?" She added

"A man hoped a girl would help him."

___________________

Death came creeping to the Red Keep during the night.

Cersei Lannister, safely asleep in her chambers, didn't hear a thing.

First was her handmaiden, a little bird who often whispered in the Queen's ears. It often cost innocent people their lives. But Iriana got her silver and Cersei got her information and that business was prospering. The tall, caramel haired handmaiden was putting away her dresses, until Arya Stark drove a sword through her neck.

Iriana's body laid somewhere in the dungeons, while her face served as Arya's disguise. Not everyone could walk around close to the Queen's chambers.

A Queensguard, whose name they'll never know, was second. The only thing Arya heard in the quiet castle at night, beside her own heartbeat, was a sound of a neck snapping and faint clinging of armour when the man fell down on the ground.

The Mountain stood in front of the door to the Queen's chambers, completely covering it with his large armoured frame. He was the third.

The plan was for Arya to casually walk past him and drop a piece of jewellery to catch his attention. It all had to take place quickly and quietly, so the Queen wouldn't hear anything and wake up.

Of course she wanted to abandon the whole plan, cut Clegane's throat and go straight for Cersei. She imagined killing her in every way she knew. It would be so easy and so satisfying... she could just go for it right now and make it look like the Queen ate a bad clam for dinner...

But she couldn't disobey

A girl will obey, she promised.

Arya let out a sigh out of Iriana's mouth and started walking across the hallway. She brushed her fingertips along the cold, bare stone walls as she came closer to the only door in this wall, the one in the middle of the hallway, protected by Gregor Clegane in gold armour.

Her heavy golden brooch was pinned loosely to her emerald green simple gown. Just one brush of her arm against it and it would fall.

Just as she passed the door, she tucked a strand of Iriana's caramel hair behind her ear and gave gravity the reign over her brooch in the process. The soft thud the and faint sound of fine golden details cracking, of course, caught The Mountain's attention. He sure wondered how did such an expensive piece of jewellery get into a handmaiden's posession. He sure wondered if she stole it... Queen Cersei liked to wear expensive golden accessories, she could have taken it from her chambers...

Arya turned around. Just as she expected, he approached her slowly and menacingly. Even though he was covered in armour, she could see his eyes clearly. They disgusted her even more now, they looked monstrous, disfigured. The disgust was mutual. It was obvious he saw her as a threat. He slowly picked up the broken brooch from the floor and interrogated her about it with just his glance.

They were both quiet for a while.

Then she started running.

The Mountain started chasing her, but of course she was faster and swifter than him, even in Iriana's body that was taller than what Arya was used to. She mouthed Jaqen's instructions as she followed them.

Left turn

Left turn

Right turn by the mounted deer head

Left into the dead end

He was a few seconds behind her, which gave her enough time to take off Iriana's face and greet him with her trademark smile.

"You shouldn't be alive." She said.

The Clegane frantically looked around, wondering where did the Stark girl come from and where did the handmaiden go.

"Looking for this one?" Arya held Iriana's face up.

"Don't worry," she grinned, "I'll be wearing yours too, soon. I hope you enjoyed your extra time on this Earth, because I'm about to send you to the worst of the seven hells and I assure you there will be nothing to enjoy."

The plan was different from what happened. Arya wasn't supposed to reveal her face and she wasn't supposed to say anything. But she did and she drew Needle, which was something Jaqen explicitly told her not to do. Where was he anyways? They were supposed to meet here.

The Mountain growled and kicked her down. Arya gasped and was about to charge at him when he kneeled down to her and grabbed her right arm, leaving her unable to use her sword. With her left arm, she reached for anything on the floor that would help her. She was lucky to find a piece of stone that had broken off the wall. Quickly, she grabbed it and hit him in the head with it, as hard as she could. That caused him to loosen his grasp on her arm a little, enough for her to free herself. But what to do next? She was in a dead end, both literally and figuratively.

"What's going on here?" Another queensguard had walked into the scene.

I'm so fucked. Arya thought, Where's Jaqen? Is he okay?

The Mountain grabbed her by her arm again and threw her on the floor again, in the directon of the second queensguard.

"Arya of House Stark." He looked at Arya and then back at The Mountain. "I'll take her to the cells, she'll be meeting our Queen in the morning.

The Clegane wasn't pleased with his co-worker's decision. He picked Arya up and took a step forward, obviously he wanted to lock her up himself.

"So I take it that the Queen's chambers are unprotected?" The queensguard stopped him. "Do you really think this little girl came here by herself?" He hissed at The Mountain. "I'll take her." He reached his hand towards Arya. The Mountain huffed, let go of her, making her fall down again and started walking away.

The queensguard put a hand on Gregor Clegane's shoulder, making him turn around. "One more thing." He looked into his disfigured eyes for the last time, before striking as fast as lightning, diving a knife deep into one of them.

The Mountain didn't make a sound. The queensguard slowly put him down, to prevent the loud sound of armour hitting the stone floor.

Arya breathed in deeply. She watched the man remove his helmet and reveal red hair with a thick white streak hidden underneath.

"A girl disobeyed." Jaqen said as he offered her his hand to help her stand up.

Arya's face turned red. She took his hand and stood up.

"A man wasn't here, what was a girl supposed to do?"

"A man was watching, curious to see what a girl would do if a plan goes wrong."

"You're a pain in the arse sometimes, do you know that?" Arya rolled her eyes.

Jaqen smirked. "Yet a girl stays."

"Oh get over yourself." She laughed, "Let's get rid of this." Her head nodded in the direction of the dead Clegane's body.

______________________

Sneaking out of the castle was even easier than sneaking in. Arya couldn't wait to finally close her eyes and call it a day. Because this was a hell of a day.

Soon they were in the woods outside King's Landing. Jaqen wasn't wearing the armour anymore, he was dressed as a regular commoner. Arya left Iriana's gown in the castle and wore her regular clothes. Even though she dressed as a boy, she could no longer be mistaken for one.

"When are we finally going to sleep?" She sighed.

"When we reach another town, lovely girl."

"No." She stopped and sat down on the grass.

Jaqen stopped and turned around to face her. "A girl can stay and join me in the morning if she wishes. But she'll be cold."

"Carry me then." She crossed her arms, "I'm tired."

"A girl lacks manners." He smiled.

"Please." She looked at him with the best puppy eyes she could pull off.

Jaqen rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine". He picked her up, bride style and kept walking. It's a miracle he didn't trip on anything, since he didn't look where he was going, at all. As he carried her in his arms, all he could look at was how she closed her eyes, snuggled her head up against his chest and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Mind where you're going, I'm not going to make your fall any softer." She opened her eyes and looked into his. Of course she knew he was staring at her.

Jaqen smirked gently and started looking at what's in front of him. As he felt and heard her breath becoming deeper and more regular, he also grew tired. Suddenly he stopped.

"Oh hells." He sighed and gently put Arya down on a patch of moss. It wasn't a particularly warm night. Jaqen thought of making a fire, but it could draw attention.

Besides, they didn't need fire.

He laid beside her on the soft moss and admired her sleeping face. He gently stroked her hair and forehead, before wrapping his arms around her. Sleeping Arya pressed her head to his chest, which made him smile. She was so dangerous, but she looked so peaceful and so cute when she was asleep.

He never wanted that moment to end.

[crowsent]

did a text post bc the formatting is easier. also because so i won’t bombard you ( @yalltookmyurlideas ) with words

i basically created my son ethel when i was late middle school. almost summer. i was watching this one anime, servamp, and there was a character with a really interesting design of blonde hair with black streaks (his name was hyde) so my middleschool self i went “neat! i want an oc like that!” so i designed ethel based on that one anime character with weird hair. and that was his only defining trait for a while: weird hair

originally, ethel had white hair and genetically inherited black streaks (again bc i was in middleschool) and i created the first drawing of ethel (first pic i sent) when i was a freshman in highschool and the whiteness of the rest of his hair compared to the streaks is very visible.

at that point, my backstory for him was essentially “pale, loner, likes shakespeare, wears hoodie, highschooler” his shirt is just a really creepy smiley face bc i really wanted to turn up the emoness of his design. pretty sure he had a girlfriend or a partner whose name was like. carmen. or camillia. or something that starts with a c. she dies and serves as fuel for him to be angsty bc again. middle school

then i became a junior and looked at his initial design and went. “what if i make it darker?” bc i hit peak emo phase when i was a highschool freshman and was one step away from wearing mcr outfits every day to school. you know the one. that one jacket.

2nd and 3rd pictures i sent were the darker and gritter versions of ethel. hence the darker hair (you can barely see the dark streaks in the third photo) and edginess amped up to 11. his hair was like a chestnut brown at that point and the black streaks were less visible. he remained without a background for the most part but i added “girlfriend was killed, wants revenge” to his bio because i guess i wanted him to be even edgier? and he kind of becomes a hermit who hates society at the end of his character arc. just a grumpy nihilist with depression bc at the time i did not know how to handle my own mental health and it manifested as that.

i didn’t fully create a backstory for ethel until i reached my senior year. then i went fucking ham and changed his entire character. he went from “name is ethel, pale, loner, likes shakespeare, wears hoodie, highschooler, lost a girlfriend, wants revenge, really edgy” to Ethel Ash

so basically. ethel lost both parents when he was young and was put in foster care, bouncing from home to home without really having a place to belong. he didn’t feel wanted by anyone, didn’t have support from any adults in his life, started trouble just to get some goddamn attention bc he felt invisible and it only led to people labeling him as dumb and a problem. bc of the lack of support in his life, he fell in with the wrong people when he was in highschool. fights. petty theft. vandalism. that kind of stuff. sent to juvie a few times because he got caught. at this point, his hair was just plain brown and he doesn’t dye it until much later.

then he graduated highschool, but only barely. he’s pretty smart, interested in philosophy, strategy, math, and classical literary works (shakespeare which is p much the only part of his original backstory that survived) but his teachers essentially labeled him a problem child and gave him next to no attention. so he p much accepted society’s label that he’ll always be no-good and kind of ran with it.

he got involved in organised crime after he graduated and by organised crime i meant the mob. he became involved with the mob in california (where he lived) and bc he’s smart and well-versed in like strategy and math, he kind of picked up being an informant. like. he became that one guy people in the mob turned to for info. doesnt particularly like being involved in the shady deals that go down, but if he’s being an informant, he’s needed. and if he’s needed, he has somewhere to belong.

so he overworks himself. sleeps little, eats less, and essentially becomes a machine who haunts the local coffee shop typing on a laptop that’s protected from everything under the sun. he wears a hoodie over his creepy smiley face shirt which he just nicked from some random dpt store to keep himself from being seen by the security cameras and is essentially a fucking internet gremlin with next to no face-to-face human interaction.

but of course, this (coupled with vices like drinking and smoking) takes a toll on him and his body finally gives out and he collapses in an alleyway. not passed out, but definitely delirious from lack of sleep and food. which, considering his criminal background, would fuck him over if he got seen by some random person and reported to the police. or worse, sentence him to death if he got spotted by someone from a rival gang who would love to get rid of someone dangerous like him.

instead, he got found by c. i will call her camilla in this instance bc i genuinely don’t remember her name even though she got a big reboot to her character as well. ethel’s like. 20-21 at this point. camilla is 22 and is in a prestigious college taking a double major in english and food management. she’s not particularly rich, but is upper middle class with a single mother living in new york who fully supports her in what she wants to do and regularly calls her to make sure that she’s safe. and camilla, spotting this dude who looks like death incarnate, stops and makes sure he’s okay and ethel keeps telling her not to call the cops or call an ambulance.

and camilla, also very smart but has enough chaotic dumbass energy to sink a ship, takes ethel to her apartment where he devolves into a high fever and she helps him through it.

he gets better and is just ????? towards camilla because she’s nice to him even though he did nothing for her. he leaves her apartment as soon as he can, but they end up running into each other again at the fucking coffee shop bc im a sucker for cliche and they kind of clicked.

they bond over shakespeare together because camilla’s an english major and ethel’s a fucking nerd for shakespeare. he doesn’t tell her what kind of work he does, but she figures it out anyway because she’s not an idiot. there are bruises on ethel’s body and his eyes always dart around the room, looking for an exit. she lets him know that she knows, and she lets him know that it’s not his fault that the world let him down, that he felt that he didn’t belong.

and ethel kind of breaks after that? like. he very reluctantly works as an informant in gangs bc he’s chasing the high of being needed and wanted and this random college girl just up and tells him that it’s not his fault that he’s never felt warmth in his goddamn life?

she doesn’t try to change him bc she’s in college and she has essays to fucking worry about and ethel never even does anything like dox some innocent soul so while she’s kind of uncomfortable with ethel’s job she’s not like majorly concerned about it. its a rule that they never talk about ethel’s job when they hang out bc ethel doesn’t like talking about what he does and who he associated with because of the issues of his childhood and she really doesn’t want to think about the fact that there are a lot of bad people her best friend associates with bc he feels like he has no choice so it’s kind of silence on that topic.

but ethel kind of changes himself. he wants to change. bc hey. it’s not too late. he hasn’t done something like murder so if he quits and turns himself in, he can get like a few years at most and come out and live a better honest life. and like. camilla’s floored and flattered that her friend would do this because she inspired him to do better? and she’s like “all my life, i wanted to start my own cafe and when you get out, ill hire you. how’s that sound” and they’re like. both soft and ethel is fully fucking prepared to go to the police and out literally every single motherfucker he worked with and turn over a new leaf.

but then someone catches wind of what he plans to do.

and fucking murders camilla.

bc they thought that camilla was forcing ethel to change for her and the logic is that “if the person telling him to quit and betray us is dead, then he wont go through with it” but it completely fucking backfires.

and ethel goes fucking ballistic.

instead of just going to the police like a normal person and confessing everything like the names of the people he works with and letting the police deal with them. he just straight up drops off the grid. and fucking mails the goddamn police things like full names, addresses, safehouses, etc. he straight up obliterates the gang he works with by systematically doxxing them to the fucking police one by one, ruining all of their operations, and hunting them down one by one.

this is the point where he dyes his hair black, but only streaks of it to remind himself of camilla. camilla had planned on streaking her hair hair red bc it goes well with her black hair and ethel streaked his hair black to remind himself of her. he doesn’t turn himself yet in bc he doesn’t plan on doing that until he literally finds all of the men and women he’s worked with in the past and leads them to their arrest and it’s an ongoing thing because his former colleagues went into hiding so he’s having some difficulties.

but he still plans on turning himself in once he’s done. and once he gets out, he plans on starting that cafe. and he’s going to fill it with bookshelves of classical literature. and he’s going to keep living his goddamn life.

and i wrote most of his backstory in math class because i genuinely could not give a shit about math. and that’s ethel. my son. my child. my baby. i love talking about him. he’s precious and i adore every inch of him.

[deviationdivine]

Hopelessly, Lay Your Head (RK800-60|Request!)

TLDR: Planning a future doesn’t always happen the way we want...

Word Count: 2,763

TW: Fluff into full Angst, Suggestive Themes, Character Death, Grief (I think I’m in need of sunshine and roses honestly)

A/N: Prompts:  42. “Stop being so cute.” & 67. “You’re bleeding all over my carpet.” | Ahh don’t feel bad! I want to get requests. I’m happy to do them! And thank you for the love! It motivates my writing! This one took a turn I wasn’t expecting. Oops.

Bathing blue, soft and bright is a bloom across flush skin. Shimmering calmly beneath fingertips leans him closer into your body. Fueling his passion even after it ends nothing prevents his choice of tangling incessant, fervently with the human figure he worships as an idol.

Even if it’s impossible to call you a trophy made for idolization still he will do it. If you like he’ll sink down to knees, throw hands up with the goofy grin he’s naturally adopted and tease you effortlessly. 

Right now he follows the protocol of getting back at you for being so perfect. Digging fingers into your sides jostles the slow kisses both of you are pecking to each other’s faces. 

A laugh spills out which puts a smirk across his busy lips skimming along shoulder now that you wrench sideways to make him stop. There is one thing this android does not do and it’s give up a mission! 

Your squirming culminates in kicking a leg from underneath covers. Rustling them all over it’s a fitting sight after making a mess of once perfectly made bedding. 

“I swear if you don’t stop…!” 

“Is that a challenge?” RK800-60′s voice purrs beside your ear. “I am highly advanced you know. My precision is deadly.” 

Is that supposed to be scary? You can’t help snorting. Also those choices of words really get things going. To think this android boy of yours is ready for another round. Sometimes he’s the cutest thing on the planet and others…he’s an insatiable beast. 

“Tell me something I don’t know already.” Whispering up into his ear this time floods LED deep scarlet. An outward sign your teasing breath is turning his gears. 

Who needs an external feedback component with his entire body tensing against you. It’s felt easily in this cuddling connection that glues you together. 

Might seem cliché but after making love you do enjoy a good cuddle. He shares this idea. Anything to have contact between the two of you he craves. It’s everything you want. Of course it means he is happy someone attaches their whole self to him without caring who or what he may be.

To you he is the man you love. That’s enough. It’s also something he savors because doubts can be unhealthy. 

Rubbing a nose against his produces a beaming smile because of how cheesy it feels. Well, no one says it’s bad. It does make him pull you flush into his perfectly smooth, freckle dusted skin. Those same tiny beauties dotting a chiseled cheekbone call your lips home. 

“Stop being so cute.” 

His smile grows sly and needy. “Stop being so delicious.” 

Tip of his tongue flicks in a shuddering taste against rapid pulse. Drawing sharp breath out stipulates a new mission to accomplish. Very obvious in how he continues to drag a sensual line up beneath your jaw. Biting your lip is the best course of action. 

Oh. Oh, he needs to stop. 

“Better than sampling thirium at crime scenes.” 

You shove his shoulder. What a stupid thing! “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” he challenges in a low husk. 

“What do I get if I win?” Testing your android lover with a gleam in the eye adds to this first week sleeping continuously in the same place together. Why else are things so ridiculously scintillating? 

The android cocks his head. Indicator flickers as he weighs options. “I will paint the living room by myself.”

Paint by himself? Oh he’s good. “Hmm. Are you sure? I was thinking we could go for something a bit more romantic. Not so much domestic.”

“I can cover myself in pale blue paint for your eye pleasure. Completely naked.”

The wink following his smoky words chills you down to the bone. Talk about a very, very good chill. “Were you made this obscene or is that just something you picked up being deviant?”

“If I tell you, my love, I may have to kill you.”  He pauses to kiss your lips delicately and absorb this happiness in his system. You are the sun warming a cold machine. Something you disagree with. You say he is equally warm despite his manufactured state. 

You smile threading fingers into his coffee hair. Extremely messy with extra styled curls falling over forehead is probably a favorite sight. Just the reason is nice. 

“I love that you’re here,” you confess in a loving whisper. 

Everything flutters in his chest. Rapidly thrumming is his synthetic heart all for you and your love for him. “I love to be with you. As a permanent guest.” 

Guest? It might be a bit more than that! “We live together now.”

A correct reminder he indulges. He never thought this because he still doubts at times. With you he can rest easy. With you he is complete. “That is why I offered to paint by myself.”

“Well, maybe I want to get messy with you. Did you ever think of that?” This boy just went from offering to complete a remodeling task of your apartment and skipping his promise of getting said paint all over. A nice excuse to use the shower together you think at any rate. Good that they allow those types of renovations here.

“There is only one thing I think of,” the android is coy. Leaning close, holding you to him, it is his way to tell you to sleep. 

Stasis is a blessing only beside you because it makes him feel more human. It also combats strange images. Even now as he lies silently, allowing you to snuggle for sleep, the flicker of LED gives away internal processing. 

“…60.”

He peers at you expecting to see your eyes on him. However you did not move. 

The android reaches carefully to switch off lamp. Snuffing everything including strange feedback settles into quiet. Soft breath is his soundtrack. He listens closely able to feel fulfilled as talk of the future has been constant between you two. He wants this. More than anything he wants to be the one to hold you forever.

Sometimes he wonders if you will ever want to elope with an android. If it is ever possible for his kind to do so; his gaze shifts to ceiling in the dark that now cascades over your nestling bodies. 

Artificial light is gone but still he sees dramatically efficient including the remaining flush of your skin. 

“…failed your mission.”

Sixty’s head turns sharply. Searching for a source unsettles the android. There is nothing. He ignores it less he disturbs your needed slumber. 

Attempting to fall into stasis only opens up a channel. A sharp spasm shudders through his body. Red flashes ominously under control of disembodied connection. Even as he falls into sleep mode the virus is already spreading.

“RK800-60…you failed. I will take you back.”

Do androids make the ideal partner? 

Are humans just not that into humans anymore? How to date in the 21st century!

Virtual Cyber Technology! For the bedroom!

Cringe worthy articles swipe beneath fingers. Glancing down at tablet magazine left sitting with various other junk mail deliveries you notice this is one of those trashy editions. 

Does someone know your boyfriend is android? A clean roll of the eyes will be your best response. People can’t mind their business. 

Carrying several bags from a store run it’s more so for the apartment itself than your personal needs. This is what shared living gets a person into even if aforementioned partner is a smexy android. 

You smirk putting key into lock to sweep the door open. Expecting to be alone for a while today doesn’t make you stop thinking of him. He seemed... you’re not sure. He was quieter than usual this morning.

Actually, it is probably only - 

Your steps freeze. At first it doesn’t register finding color smearing across floor. Might have been paint for all you knew but following it over to a particular android, hunched over, grasping at his arm sinks down the pit of your stomach. 

“Sixty?” Wait. What is he doing home? He’s supposed to be on a long case unless something happened while at work. 

His head shoots up. Wild eyes rove onto you forcing him completely in an uneven swivel. 

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet,” you whisper unprepared. Everything in your hands spills, virtual magazine landing in an additional audio thud to the pounding of your heart. It’s the first time it registers how much blue stains the surface, leaking from his arm which is split open on its underside. 

“You’re bleeding! Thirium! What...?” 

The android’s indicator burns. Sensory perception is muffled at best. He is glitching, internally syncing in and out of conscious clarity. Your voice is static. Are you even real?

Am I stuck in the mind palace? How? Are you a figment? 

“Destroy yourself,” a dark whisper commands entwining itself in the circuits of his brain. “You failed your mission. You are obsolete.”

No. Clasping to his head does not rid it. The voice is back. It orders him. He-he did this to himself. Nothing held him from damaging his arm because his will shatters. 

Amanda...get out! 

“Sixty!” 

Grabbing at his jacket is first instinct because he’s unstable. Swaying off balance, physically convulsing, eyes flicking in an expeditious pattern; the android is malfunctioning. 

What happened to him?! Did he-? No he wouldn’t! 

“Sixty? It’s me. Please. It’s OK! It’s...” Attempting to hold onto him only stains your shirt in thirium. You can’t stop him. If he was human it would be like a seizure. 

Letting go as he stumbles away, he is frantic to push you out of reach. Unable to control his actions he is afraid. He will never hurt you! 

“Connor! Something’s wrong with Sixty!” 

Your voice becomes distant to him engaging a call over phone. Connor. His predecessor... 

^87%

Level of Stress

“Hurry! Connor, please, I need you to help me with him!” 

^94%

Level of Stress

RK800-60 collapses.

“No, no!” Oh God! His stress levels! 

The clasp of your fingers draws his final surge of consciousness. “My love! I-I am...sorry.” 

Pleading your forgiveness as his system overheats he cannot speak proper. What’s left of his humanity crackles in a dangerous taste of metallic resonance. It overtakes his warm dulcet turning it into a cold dissonance unworthy of your ears. 

Please. Please, don’t let me sound this way. Not like this! 

“Y/N,” he strains in static disconnection. “I...”

^100%

Level of Stress

His eyes glaze over upon your face and it is a small mercy to see something he loves as the harsh virus of the master program punishes his deviancy. External feedback stops no longer looping in amber and red.

The circle dims until nothing but a void of gray. Cold slate bereaves him of life. 

“Sixty!” 

Tugging at his shirt didn’t move him because he is-

A flood of anguish rips everything asunder and hits so hard you can’t breathe. Just as everything was going so well, living together for the first time, planning on so many things and he’s lying upon your floor stained in thirium no longer smiling. At you the way he looks so sweet even if he spoke of how he started so different. 

There never is anything different. Your heart belongs to him. 

Tears flood the pain crippling your body. Pressing to his chest is the only choice because nothing can keep you upright. You completely crash. 

No longer hearing a thrum of regulator against ear tears apart every dream you two plan to share; a human and android wishing to live each moment as long as it’s together. 

Together. Two parts to make one whole but the other is gone. You are alone.

Holding onto him doesn’t wake him from stasis nor does it invoke his quick action to thread arms around you. There is no abrupt scoop to pull you flush against him. 

All you can do is hopelessly lay your head. Hopelessly and you do...crumbling.

“Everything will be all right, Y/N.”

Comforting words wash over your still form. Curling up on couch in a lonely ball settles yourself physically but emotionally there’s nothing. An empty abyss swallows to drag what’s left of a heart into a tunnel. It’s dark. There is no light.

Connor frowns reading more than a vital scan to discern current stress. It is written or rather non-existent in your expression. A blank canvas forms usually where you held so much life. He often found the smiles quite cheerful whenever gracing your face. 

Of course he imagines that is how his successor saw you every day. RK800-60 saw more than Connor may personally know as it is a private intimacy. Perhaps he sees in another light even if it’s not the same. 

“If you require anything, I am capable of...”

“Please, Connor.” Begging him not to concern himself is partly a reason for distancing. Just look at him. He’s identical. Of course he came first but what does that matter? A mirror image of the man you loved and lost. 

Yes, he was a man. It hardly means anything being an android. He was your sweet Sixty. 

Tears brim your puffy eyes. Lost track of how many times you cried in the last week. Thinking of why almost breaks your strength for today. 

Connor did explain. His theory is frightening because he converted Sixty. That means your RK800 never found this backdoor or whatever it is. 

Who cares? There’s no explanation! Nothing will ever explain why he’s gone! 

Keeping attention elsewhere is best. Of course you’re grateful. Connor understands. No one else does. It’s just too much. Looking him in the face only makes you want Sixty to be here. Every waking moment since the unthinkable took him away.

“I apologize,” the detective sincerely accepts. How you feel is justified. “I know my likeness must hurt. If you would like me to leave...” 

Hesitation filters his suggestion. He watches for a sign but your gaze remains averted. In a way it appears you wish to ignore him but for reasons he understands. Yet the closer he analyzes it’s clear a picture frame holds your heart. 

Clearly it’s a representation of this human life Sixty chose. Similar to Connor, who lives one himself but unlike the other RK800 unit he found an emergency exit. Simple conversion from him was not enough. 

Connor feels guilty. He can’t help but put some blame on himself. There is also another reason.

He says nothing further. He will not hurt you with his presence. Connor rises from the chair that put physical distance between the two of you since his arrival. 

Watching him move across living space for door amplifies the tempo of a broken heart. It reminds you of the last time Sixty left. Before coming home and finding him here, commanded by some unseen virus in his code. All you want is to think of him before. His infectious smile. The way he held your hand, brushing his nose against human skin. 

He always liked to inhale your scent. Whether it was natural or a soft cleanse of ivory soap the fascination of human skin against synthetic made him giddy. Never would people think a fierce android who could snap someone in half in a blink could be so lovable.

“Connor.” Finally it breaks and you speak up. Little did you realize how scratchy your voice sounds. 

The android stills. His shoulders appear stiffer. Almost afraid to turn around and meet your call it seems strange. 

Maybe it’s not so strange. Maybe... 

You exhale. Regretting your behavior there isn’t anyone else to turn to during this nightmare. “I don’t want to be alone.”

His chocolate gaze softens before facing you. The request is not lost on him. You do not need to ask. 

Joining beside leaves Connor on a proper mission to make you feel somewhat better. However he understands grieving is a long process. It varies person to person. Depression may be a high probability and he knows this dealing with Hank. While the lieutenant is better these days, the android does not want to see you fall. 

No, he-he will hold you up. If you want him to he will. For his ‘brother’ he will take care, to be your shoulder and soothe whatever aches attack your heart. He will watch over, keep you safe, and try to lessen this burden. 

Connor cannot replace but he will do anything to heal the shattering pain in your soul because of one reason.

Just as RK800-60, identical in more than construction, he loves you too...

Tag: @elydith

[thegreenfairy13]

Mr. Van Dahl’s Double Life - Part 8

Jim and Oz have been secretly married for years, fooling all of Gotham. One day Jim decides to come out of the closet. Oswald isn’t thrilled and Jim suffers the consequences. Read it on Ao3. 

Jim isn’t quite sure whether he should continue glaring furiously at his husband, strangle him, or wrap him into his arms while telling him everything is going to be alright.

At last, he settles for anger. It’s anyway his most common reaction to literally everything since coming to Gotham. He’s angry at his job, at the criminals, at his colleagues, at the politicians, at his ex-fiancées, and in a more general sense: at the entire world.

“How the hell could you keep that from me?!” the detective explodes, already knowing the answer. It might have something to do with his reaction.

“I,” Oswald licks his lips nervously while getting up into a sitting position. Having an argument is never pleasant. Having an argument while lying on your back with your belly bared is even less favorable.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d approve,” the gangster answers honestly.

“Damn right you are,” Jim growls in response. “You and your God complex. First, you think you are entitled to control all the crime in Gotham by handing out licenses and now you are the lord of life and death as well.”

“Oh, stop it with the licenses,” the mobster sighs, exasperated. “You love them and they got me re-elected as mayor.”

That’s quite true but that doesn’t mean he’s going to cave in. As Oswald insists on keeping up pretenses, he’s forced to arrest gangsters with a license. Well, at least those who don’t play by the Penguin’s rules. Ironically, Gotham became a better place by establishing a system of maximum corruption.

“You still have a God complex,” Jim huffs while folding his arms across his chest.

“So you actually would have preferred for Nygma to kill me?” Oswald inquires, fixing his husband with a severe stare.

“I would have preferred you being honest with me,” the cop snaps back. Getting up, Jim snatches his clothes from the floor and walks to the bathroom. He really needs a moment to himself else this will only become a screaming match neither of them is willing to lose.

Standing under the spray, Jim tries to pin down what exactly he is upset about. It’s not like he’s ungrateful not to be dead. That’s not the issue. The part in which he’s practically immortal - well, Jim can’t quite wrap his head around that just yet.

Also, he isn’t mad about Ozzie still being alive. Quite the contrary. Even imagining his husband, this snarky, cheeky, violent, bigheaded creature, not breathing anymore, takes the breath from his lungs.

The underlying problem with him and Oswald was and always is the same: their lack of trust. The kingpin of Gotham doesn’t let him in on his plans, hardly ever discusses his vision for the city with Jim, or even admits openly being with him.

Maybe it’s because Jim is still, at his core, a just man. He considers most of the Penguin’s methods excessive. Not only once did he try stopping his husband from completing his revenge or committing murder - often much to Oswald’s dismay. And admitted, letting some of their enemies walk away would often turn out to be a bad decision in the future.

Like this whole Nygma debacle. When finding out about Ed’s machinations considering the Red Hood Gang Ozzie wanted to deal with him in his own fashion. Jim convinced him to let the mentally ill man walk away and what happened? Right, his husband got shot in the guts.

Oswald loves Jim’s ethics but at the same time, he mistrusts him for being who he is. Yet by now, he should understand how the Penguin always would be the exception to any of Jim’s rules.

He should trust him by now. Loving someone or feeling the urge to protect your partner isn’t enough. Jim needs his psycho murder birdie to trust him but instead, he keeps enormous secrets from him.

Inconsiderately, he talked about divorce when all he wants is a functioning relationship and not this train-wreck. Of course, it’s his fault too. He never called Ozzie out on how he treated their marriage, never told him he would always find a way to ignore his violent outbursts. Jim always thought his actions would speak for themselves.

Turns out, the crime-lord doesn’t even trust him enough to tell him about the precautions he took in case one of them would die. It’s disheartening, to say the least.

Jim almost expects Oswald to be gone when returning from his shower. Yet the mobster is still there, lying naked under the covers, waiting for Jim to come back.  

Sometimes Jim wonders how their life would have turned out if they had stayed at odds. Would the city be as quiet as it is? Would they both have found another love? Would they even be alive or would they have at one point gunned each other down? Would he have arrested Oswald one day and put him behind bars for good? Could he?

He doesn’t want to think about it, honestly. The city blossoms under the Penguin’s reign and the price for that had only been for Jim to sacrifice a chunk of his morality while gaining this. It’s not a bad deal, everything considered.

“What else are you keeping from me?” Jim demands to know, tilting his chin slightly.

Oswald’s eyes are closed, he isn’t even looking at Jim. “Too much,” he admits with a heavy sigh, breaking Jim’s heart a bit further.

But here goes nothing. If he wants to save their marriage, he needs to press Oswald for answers or they truly might end up being enemies again. Not that he can even imagine how going up against his husband would turn out. The city would probably suffer considerably with the balance they had established gone.

“Why?” he asks, keeping his voice soft. Jim can be gentle when he wants. He’s anyway sick of being this rough, tough soldier.

Rolling onto the side, Oswald finally faces Jim. He shrugs. “I always loved you for being what you are. That idealistic, naive young man who came to Gotham to clean it up. I guess I only ever wanted to protect you.”

The detective can’t help but snort. That’s just so Oswald. He has a habit of ruining what he cares about the most. When it comes to what he loves, he’s seemingly unable to make good decisions.

“I haven’t been this young boy in a very long time. Maybe you just like the memory of who I was on the day we met,” Jim suggests.

“Maybe,” Oswald admits with a sad smile.

“I married you,” the cop reminds him. “Knowing full well you are a murderous, cunning, little weasel. I loved you anyway,” he adds when Oswald’s mouth hardens. “I thought that would be proof enough for you to trust me.”

“I never wanted you to be anyone else than who you had been,” the criminal tells Jim. “Who you are,” he corrects himself.

“Yeah, but you always wanted you to be my exception, right?” the cop urges. “And tell you what, you are. So stop keeping secrets, stop protecting me from truths you think I can’t handle.”

Oswald stays silent.

“I know who you are,” Jim carries on. “We never talk about it, but I have a very good idea about what you do. And I turn a blind eye to it. Constantly. I’m not a that bad cop I wouldn’t know about most of your machinations. I thought you would trust me by now.”

“If you knew everything you’d get a divorce and throw me into Blackgate,” Oswald replies, seemingly nonchalant. The way he tenses gives him away though. He’s anything but relaxed.

“Maybe for once you should try me,” Jim suggests. “You married me too,” he whispers.

“I remember,” he answers dryly. He’s driving Jim insane with his attitude. It’s the reason he fell for him. “Would you have ever considered immortality if I hadn’t made this decision for both of us?” Oswald asks.

“No,” Jim answers honestly. “But I guess I would have moved heaven, earth, and hell to bring you back from the dead if our roles had been reversed.”

Oswald’s pupils widen in surprise at this revelation. “What?” Jim snaps. “Did you ever doubt I love you? I might be not alright with what you do and how you do it but I’d die for you. I live for you. I get beaten up by Zsasz every week to keep up appearances.”

The cop snorts. “I tried telling you the entire week. I want us to be together. But I can’t trust you if you go behind my back. And you don’t trust me enough to be open with me.”

The mobster on the bed nods. “Jim, I’m a murderer who runs a criminal empire. And you are a cop who is alright with that because I brought stability to this city that is so very precious to the both of us. But what I do, is exactly what you swore to stop when coming here.”

“And you think I’m not aware of that?”

“I still wait for the day you are not only aware but truly realize that,” Oswald whispers back. “That will be the day our relationship ends,” he continues, unaware of the tears streaming down his face. “It might not be today - or tomorrow. But the day will come. And when this day comes, you will be grateful our marriage had been kept a secret.”

Jim’s mouth drops open. He knew Oswald had been trying to protect him by keeping their marriage a secret. Now, he has to learn he’s thinking years ahead. He’s not only protecting him from their enemies - with decidedly questionable methods, but also from himself. If they should really go separate ways, his integrity would still be intact. The very integrity Jim is dead set on destroying.

The anger slowly drains from him. Maybe they do have a true chance after all that mess.

Clearing his throat, Jim walks over to the man he agreed to spend his life with. A life that is going to be a pretty long one now.

“Oz, look at me,” he demands, gently tilting the criminal’s chin up. “I am very aware. But I, we, can’t continue like that. I am not ashamed of us being together. I might not like everything you do but I accept it. You are my exception to all of my rules and I think it’s not me who’s got a problem with realizations but you.”

Oswald’s awe-stricken expression speaks volumes. The gangster’s eyes fill with tears as he wraps his bony arms around Jim’s middle. Head pillowed in Jim’s lap, they stay like that for a while as the cop keeps rubbing circles up and down his husband’s spine.

It’s not ideal, it’s not alright, but they have all of eternity to sort their problems out and Jim is willing to roll with it.

“Can we leave the basement now, please ?” he grumbles when Oswald finally relaxes entirely under his touch.

Between the tears, he hears a muffled laugh. “Of course, darling.”

Jim sighs in relief. Talking about his feelings has never been his forte and he truly hopes such a lengthy conversation won’t be necessary for the next fifty years or more.