#i predict 3 cold handshakes

[se-dissimuler]

the uso draw dawg i’m about to kill myself

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Emergency Visits (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.5k+

Warning(s): SMUT! Oral (Reader recieving), fingering, penetration, fluff!!! (Cringe warning too)

A/N: HONESTLY, idk why i had the courage to write smut but I did. THE ORIGINAL ONE-SHOT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE SMUT LMFAO also yall know I am a sucker for crossovers SOOO the timelime for TFATWS is off in this because Frank Castle is in here and I wrote most of this before episode 5 <3 

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Zemo need a place to lay low in while in the States and you're their most trusted person they know. What was not predicted was your vigilante friend needing medical help that same night. 

--------------------------------------------

You were a former Avenger. You were highly trained in combat but your purpose was to help any wounded comrade or citizen when you and the team were called in. The fighting days were pretty much over for you after the last battle with Thanos. You still used your medical knowledge to work at the different hospitals in New York City and helped Matt Murdock or Frank Castle with any wounds. Rarely you'd help with some vigilante work, but you rather sit out and keep to a less violent life.

You were mindless watching whatever Netflix suggested to you on a breezy night in your humble apartment in New York. It has been a rather boring few nights for you compared to more hectic ones, given your vigilante friends weren't getting as hurt as usual and didn't need discreet medical care.

Your cellphone ringing next to you snapped your attention away from your binging of a John Mulaney  stand up show (good choice Netflix). You looked at the caller idea and swore your heart fluttered ever so slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was calling.

You had spent many months in Wakanda with him as Shuri worked tirelessly to get rid of Hydras grasp on his mind. Your main focus was learning new information on medicine but you always made sure to visit Bucky. You both got pretty close... Light touches, lingering hugs, and often staring at each other when the other wasn't looking became a commonality. It was obvious feelings of love were blossoming for you, but you weren't fully sure if he felt the same.

After the battle you both stayed in contact, but he decided to reside in D.C. while you laid roots back in the familiarity of New York. You both made sure to visit each when possible, but it had been about a month and a half since you last saw him.

"Hey, Buck." You smiled, answering his call. "It's been a few days, usually you make sure to call every other night. Are you okay?"

"I..." You heard him sigh, making you sit up straight.  "I need a favor, doll."

"Of course, you know I would do practically anything for you."

"That applies to me too right?" You heard Sam in the background, making you chuckle.

"Yes, it does Sam. How are you?"

"I've been better, these past few days have been rough but I'll let Stare-a-tron explain it to you." You heard a wack and an 'ow' come from Sam.

"So..." Bucky started but didn't continue.

"So...?"

"So, have you paid any attention to the news regarding Munich?"

"I have now connected the dots."

"What?"

"You broke a certain terrorist out of jail didn't you, James." You groan. When you saw the news about Zemo you couldn't possibly connect it to Buck and Sam, but with this call and a need of a favor instantly made you realize.

"Technically, (Y/N), he broke himself out."

"Do I need to slap some sense into you? He killed King  T'Chaka. He broke up the Avengers--"

"I know, I know." You heard him sigh. You listened in closer and heard some background traffic noise that sounded like the streets of New York. "Listen, we need a place to lay low for a bit in the States and your the only person I can one-hundred percent trust. I can't tell you more on the phone but please-"

"Yes, yes of course Buck. You guys, well minus Zemo, are welcomed here for whatever reason. Do you need me to text you the address?"

"Nah, we are actually about to enter your apartment building."

"Well hurry up so we can decide on take out." You chuckled and hung up the phone. You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard knocking at your door. Wasting no time you opened the door as fast as you can and practically tackle Bucky into a hug.

He chuckled gently, "I missed you too, doll."

You released him from your hold and grinned as Sam. "Come here Sam, I haven't seen you in a few months." You pulled him into a less dramatic but friendly hug.

"Good to see you too, (Y/N)." Sam and Buck made their way into the apartment leaving you faced to face with Zemo.

"Hello." You greeted, offering a differential handshake.

"Hello, (Y/N). I hope all is well." He accepted the short handshake and gave an equally differential smile before entering your apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode, make yourselves at home here. I have two bedrooms so we better discuss sleeping arrangements-"

"Easy, I call dibs bunking with you while Wings and Zemo stay in your spare room." Bucky interrupted.

"Hold up, why can't you stay with creepy-magee? I'm sure you two would love to stare at each other." Sam argued.

"Because I called dibs, isn't that right Doll?"

"He did call dibs, Sam." You shrugged and laugh at his look of betrayal.

You heard Zemo start to speak but Sam beat him to it, "You don't get an opinion." Zemo simply put his hands up and surrendered while the other two kept arguing about the concept of dibs.

"Anyways I'll order some Chinese food and we can discuss why you three are here over dinner."

--------

Your mind was blown.

Bucky and Sam filled you in on Isaiah, the return of super soldiers, why they needed Zemo, and the issues they had with the New Captain America. You also almost chastised Bucky for missing his mandated therapy session but decided to keep eating your food and let him continue.

"Wow, that is fucking nuts. Super soldiers, huh?" You sigh. As much as you didn't want to, you had a feeling they would need your help with fighting. After all you fought along with the original Captain America, so you picked up ways to fight super soldiers.

"Yeah, after Madripoor we need to lay low. Hopefully no one spotted us." Sam said, starting to pick up his dishes. Everyone seemed to follow suit and you were about to speak again when you heard knocking at your door.

"Hey, can you take these  for me? I'll go answer the door." You slid your stuff towards Buck who looked at you worried.

"Do you want one of us to answer the door with you?"

"Nah I should be fine, it's probably Mrs. Espinoza looking for her sons cat." You waved him off, making your way to the door. You unlock your locks and crack open the door.

There stood Frank fucking Castle, covered in an obscene amount of blood while using  the wall for support.

"Hey..." He greeted with a hoarse voice and a weak attempt of a smile.

"Holy shit, Frank." You said barely above a whisper. "Fuck, can one you guys come here?!" You shouted, opening the door wider while taking one his arms over your shoulder.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bucky looked at you and the blood soaked Punisher with bewilderment.

"I'll explain in a bit! Just help me take him to the couch. Sam go get my medical bag, it's in my closet in the room on the left! Zemo clear everyones stuff from the couch." You barked out orders while you and James carefully led Frank to the couch. When Zemo cleared it off and Sam came running out with your bag, you both laid him down on the couch.

With no hesitation you quickly wash your hands and prepare your equipment.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is happening right now, (Y/N)?" Buck asked.

"I am also wondering why we have a beaten guy on your couch." Sam's face was full of worry.

You sigh and begin removing Franks clothes to look for any life threatening wounds. "This is the Punisher. If you haven't kept up with the more lower level news he is one of the vigilantes."

"That doesn't explain why he is here."

"I... I am friends with him and Daredevil. I patch them up so they can avoid the hospital." You see a bullet wound on his side, it was bad but it was manageable with an exit wound. "One of you hold him up so I can stitch his back."

Bucky immediately joined your side, using his enhanced strength to hold up Frank.

"You gonna introduce me to your friends here, (Y/N)?" Frank rasped. "I gotta know whose cold ass hand is touchin' me."

"I'll introduce you to them later, let me get you stable."

-----

After what felt like hours, you finished dressing a gash on his thigh. You peel of your bloodied gloves and get up from kneeling on the floor. You helped sit Frank up so he can get a good look at whose here.

"Frank, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes. I worked and fought with them as an Avenger." You gesture to the two. You saw him eyeing Buck before giving you a knowing look. You both were friends after all, he knew of your feelings towards Bucky.

"Who's the guy in the pimp coat?" He grunted and gestured towards Zemo, who rolled his eyes.

"Baron Zemo. Escapee prisoner."

"Zemo? As in the guy who bombed the UN? Do you need me to-"

"No Frank, they need him alive." You chuckled.

"Well, it's good to put faces to names. Especially yours, James." Frank spoke, nudging you. "I'll get my spare clothes and rinse off the blood now, something tells me the guest room will be taken." You were going to protest but knew Frank was too stubborn to listen. The four of you watched him make his way to the guest room before closing the door.

"Oh so he knows about us but we don't know about him?" Sam arched a brow at you. Bucky stayed silent, clenching both his fists.

You sigh, "I am sorry for not telling you guys. I didn't keep my involvement with vigilantes away from you both on purpose, I promise."

"Can we trust the Punisher? Will everything be safe with all of us here?"

"You don't have to worry about me talking." Frank came out of the room in new clothes, using a damp towel to wipe his face. "(Y/N)'s stuck her neck out for me countless times. I owe it to her."

"If (Y/N) trusts you then we trust you."

"As much as I want to stay up, I think it is best we get some sleep. Tomorrow we can talk more." You stretch and yawn and everyone seemed to agree. Castle put a pillow on the couch and grabbed a spare blanket you had lying around.

"C'mon man you can have the bed. You look like you got the shit beaten out of you." Sam said.

"Nah it's fine. I'm a light sleeper. I can stay out here in case he," Castle pointed to Zemo, "tries somethin'."

"C'mon Buck, your rooming with me." You smile and grab his non-vibranium hand.

"I don't want to share a room with Zemo." Falcon groaned

"Bucky did call dibs after all."

You said goodnight to Sam, and gave Frank a quick hug goodnight before you and James went into your bedroom, a duffel bag in his hand.

James was feeling jealous. He didn't want to admit it but watching how friendly you were with Frank Castle made his feelings worse.  He could pick up the familiarity between the two of you and how easy you were able to talked to him. Frank was someone in your life Bucky didn't know existed.  How close were you to the Punisher?

Thoughts of you and Frank entered his head but he quickly tried to dismiss them. It made his chest ache just thinking about you and another man. Yeah, Buck was smitten with you. But the feelings of self-doubt and guilt always made it hard for him to confess. With the addition of Frank? Made it almost impossible.

"You can use the bathroom to change while I cahnge out here." Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He nodded silently, clenching his jaw, while entering the bathroom.

Your stare lingered at the door before you quickly put on a different set of comfortable clothes, discarding your previous clothes to the floor. You picked up on his sudden quietness and you hoped he wasnt truly mad at you. With a quiet sigh you slid under the blankets of your bed and waited for Bucky so you could get to bed. You and Bucky have shared the floor and bed before, and you were able to keep it together.

But after everything that has happened, after finally seeing him after almost two months, it made you feel nervous. You weren't sure if it was exhaustion or stress, but your feelings for Bucky suddenly felt overwhelming.

If that wasn't enough, you felt like your face was burning when he stepped out from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers and dogtags.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind. I found sleeping without a shirt easier to deal with nightmares. Helps cool me off."

"No, no. Don't worry at all Buck." You smile but it felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest. He smiled briefly before he turned out the lights, joining you in bed. You both laid on your sides, back facing back. You shut your eyes and try to focus on sleeping, but the image of shirtless, only in boxers James flooded your thoughts.

"Doll?" James voice cut through the silence.

"Y-yes, Buck?"

"Who... Who is Frank  to you?" He asked in a low, dejected tone. Your eyes snap open. What kind of question was that from him?

"What do you mean?" You roll to face him but his back was still towards you.

"Are you and Frank..." He paused, "just ignore it, nevermind."

"Bucky, face me." He didn't  respond. "Please, James." You heard him sigh but he complied, turning to face you. The subtle light from your window made it easier to see his handsome face in the dark. You gulped, trying to muster an ounce of courage to tell him these feelings you've held for him for years.

"Frank and I are strictly friends. Before he became the Punisher he had a wife and two kids who he loved dearly. They-they were killed in front of him. He loved his wife dearly and I don't think he is looking to start dating anytime soon." You sigh and things go silent for a moment.

You rested a hand on his cheek and scooch closer. "James, I... I really enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy your presence. After all that we have been through,  with getting the code words out your head to losing Steve... I want to be by your side no matter what." You felt tears prick your eyes.

"I feel the same way about you doll." James spoke, just above a whisper. "You help ground me and honestly you help keep me sane." His hand found its way above yours that was cupping his cheek. Gently he moved your hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles before moving it over his heart. "I've felt this for a while and I never had much courage to say it before but... I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, James." You smile, a few happy tears managed to escape your eyes.

"C'mere." He helped move you close to him, pulling you into a deep hug. The chill of his vibranium arm caused goosebumps but the warmth of his other arm gave you comfort.

You wrap your arms around his bare torso and snuggled your face into his neck. God he smelt good. With a little courage coursing through you, you gave him a small kiss on the neck before giving him a little love bite, nothing that would bruise.

Bucky chuckled moving a part from you, just enough to get a full look at your face. Without saying anything he leaned in, his eyes hooded, placing his lips on yours. One of his hands found its way to your head while the other rested on your hip. You pushed your body closer to his, while gently dragging your nails across his back.

"Mm Doll." He mumbled against your lips. "I... I want to continue this with you if that's alright with you."

"Yes, Bucky." And in an instant after giving him the word, he maneuvered you onto your back while he hovered on top of you, his dogtags dangling down. He removed them from his body.

"Don't want those hitting your pretty face." He smiled and leaned in to kiss you once again, this time him slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His warm hand rested on your neck before he slowly dragged it down your chest and to the hem of your shirt. He messed with it a little, teasing to go underneath.  You whine a bit and arch your back as he kept messing with it.

"May I?" You simply nod in response. He pushed himself away from you and took the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it. The cold air hitting your now exposed chest made you shiver. "No bra? Naughty." He smirked.

"I'm not the one who came out only his his boxers."

"Touché." He tossed your shirt onto the ground and soaked in the view below him. The perfect lighting leaking through the blinds illuminated everything in just the right way. James licked his lips, "You are gorgeous, doll."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." You smile, which made him smile.

"Let me treat you like a goddess. Let me repay the favor." Without another word James attacked your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking on the area. He continued leaving love marks from your neck down to your chest slowly. The sensation made you moan as tingles went through your body. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to leave hickies on your chest.

Bucky used his non-vibranium hand to cup your right breast, kneading it gently. Maintaining eye contact with you his leans his head down to your free breast before giving your raised nipple a quick lick. The feel made your body shake ever so slightly, making him smirk at the reaction. He did it again, although this time slower before latching on, using his tongue to swipe over the sensitive bump.

"Bucky-" You gasped. You felt heat slowly build in your core, not enough to have you screaming, but enough to feel pleasurable. "That feels so good." He continued giving your tender breasts and nipples attention, slowly building you up.

"Lets get these pajama shorts off." He sat up again, moving himself lower on the bed. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and began slowly removing them while you lifted your legs to help. Discarding them like your shirt, he tosses those articles of clothing to the floor. You were left with just your panties

His hands take your knees and help spread your legs farther a part, soaking in the view of your body spread out. His mouth found its place on your in thigh. He left small kissed, sometimes little bites, and he dragged his mouth closer and closer to your wet pussy. "I want to taste you doll, is that alright?"

"Y-yes Bucky, please." You begged, adjusting your hips ever so slightly. "I want to feel you more."

"As you wish." He smirked. Before he removes your panties he places soft kissed over the fabric covering your pussy. You stifle a moan, as he continued to tease you against the fabric. When he was done, he remove your underwear with ease.

"You are stunning, absolutely stunning." His hand found its way to your slit. He gently  brushed his fingers over your sensitive skin, making your body twitch ever so slightly. "You're so wet for me, already." His tongue slowly and softly dragged around your vagina and clit, the teasing is back on.

"A-Ah!" You quietly moaned, trying to keel your voice down. You moan again when you felt one metal finger enter slowly while his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands reached down to grip his hair as he began to finger and play with your clitoris.

The pleasure had your curling your toes. You had to bite your lip to hold back from moaning loudly. You didn't feel like waking up the others.

Another finger entered as he started to speed up his motions, his tongue and mouth still on your clitoris.

"That feels so good." You said with an airy tone as he continued to work.

"You taste divine." His breath against your sensitive skin made you your thighs clamp around his head. The pleasure was building up and you felt like your were close to cumming.

"J-James, - oh god!" You kept your voice down but the work he is doing to your clit made it hard to stay quiet. "Fuck-"

James give your clit one last lick before sitting, removing his fingers in the process. He then licked his fingers clean as he stared down at your panting body. He could feel his cock wanting to be free from his boxers so he removed them, letting his large erection out. He watched you squirm as you awaited for his touch again.

"Do you want my dick inside you, doll?"

"Ye-yes please." You begged, wiggling your hips for him. "Please!"

"God your so hot." He leaned back over you, placing a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips. Lining himself up to your entrance he looked to you. "Ready?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and slowly slide his cock inside you. You gasp as you feel him stretch you out, tears stinging your eyes. He stopped once he was fully in, letting you have a moment to get adjusted. "I don't know how I'll keep my voice down."

"Bury your face into my neck, I want to hear you moan my name."

You did what he suggested, you wrapped your arms around his torso while he used his vibranium arm to stay stable and his other arm around your head to keep himself close to you. His body was completely on top of yours.

"You can move now."

James slowly moved his hips away, almost entirely removing his cock from you except the tip before thrusting back in. Your moan was successful smothered by his body. He continued thrust himself inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

"O-Oh James- yesyesyes," You mewl. "You feel so good." You heard him let out a husky groan in your ear.

"I love it when you say my name, (Y/N)." He whispered in your ear as he kept his pace. You continue to moan out his name, gripping him tight as his thrust got faster. "Fuck, your so tight."

"Shit- faster!" You begged and he obliged. "You're so good to me Bucky. You-you're perfect." You could feel his thrust starting to gst sloppy as you felt waves of pleasure course through your body.

"Baby you make me crazy." He moaned. You could feel his hand make its way down to your clit, and your body arches against his as he pressed down on the sensitive bud. He practically started pounding your pussy as he moaned in your ear.

"James I'm gonna- I'm so close!" You cry out as the the feeling kept building.

"Do it, cum for me."

It was like everything in your body started shake as the pressure finally snaps in your core. You bury your face into his chest and moan his name as blinding, white hot pleasure filled your being. Your walls tighten around his cock  and you feel him start to tense.

His thrusts became harder before he finally released his thick cum inside of you before collapse onto of you, panting. Both of you were sweaty and breathing hard, but neither of you moved. The feeling of his cock inside you, twitching, was extremely hot.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)." He grinned, making you smiled.

"You're the best damn thing in my life, James."

---------

You woke up naked the next morning, curled up to an equally naked, sleeping Bucky. You smiled, remembering last nights confession and everything after that. You watch him sleep for a moment before deciding to slip out of bed to make everyone breakfast. You throw on the pajamas you wore before hand and quietly leave the room.

You close the door as quietly as and turned around, only to see Frank sitting at the table reading a magazine you had lying around.

"Oh good morning Frank." You smiled and walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. "I'm gonna make some breakfast for everyone."

"Morning, (Y/N)." He grunted. "Sleep well?"

You almost choked on air, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

"Oh you know, the couch is alright but I am a light sleeper remember? I kept hearing weird noises through the night. " Your face felt on fire as you turned to face him. He wore a smug smirk on his face. "Got something on your neck there."

You rush to grab your phone and look in the camera. Low and behold, hickies were left on your neck. "Shit."

Frank snorted, "So you finally got with your crush, huh?"

"Oh shut it you grump."

"I'm just teasing you. You know I'm happy for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Frank."

Frank decided to help you with breakfast, taking on making bacon and sausage while you attended to making pancakes. And sure enough the rest of the people in the apartment came out.

"They're gonna see them. "

"I know, I am bracing myself for Sam's teasing." You sigh. You go and place the plate  pancakes you made on the table while Frank placed the bacon and sausage he made.

"G'morning, doll. I missed ya in the morning." Bucky approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I wanted you to wake up to some breakfast." You grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" You heard Sam. "I gotta get ahold of Tic Tac and Clint they owe- what the hell is on your neck (Y/N), is that what I think it is?" He groaned and sat at the table, everyone taking their spots.

"Hickies are messages on the body that can show ones presence on another-" Zemo spoke but was cut off by Sam.

"I do not want to know, Zemo. Lets just eat."

Breakfast was great. You were surprised Frank got along with the others, though it did take some talking to by Sam to break him out of his shell. You also could have sworn Buck and Frank had a stare down at one point but were both laughing and smiling.

You take hold of Bucks hand that was on the table and give it a light squeeze, smiling at him while he smiled back. Life was pleasant even after these emergency visits.

[bothcreativitybois]

The Mayor’s Sweet Treat Chapter 3

Wordcount: 2955

Ship: Intruality

TWs: Food, horses, dogs, skipping meals, a little bit of past angst, sexual references, swearing 

Taglist: @star-crossed-shipper @crazydemigod666 @idont-freaking-know @someoneiwasnt @seraphiie @the-sympathetic-villain @cute-and-angsty-princess @lonelymuffin 

Remus flung out of the truck and smashed on the bakery door. 

“Wakey wakey!” Remus shouted at the doors. Above him a window opened. Patton smiled down radiantly. The cold night breeze rustled his hair dreamily while Remus’ long locks thrash slightly.

Remus you dumbass! He isn’t used to this!

“You’re an impatient one, Mr Grinch.” Patton joked.

“Actually it’s Mr Manzana.” Remus shouted back. “Are you coming down or not?” Patton giggled and closed the window. A few seconds later he appeared beside the building.

“So where are we going?” Patton asked as Remus walked up to him. Remus laughed.

“The best place in town, which is conveniently also the only place.” Remus joked. Patton followed him down the street to a little restaurant with a yellow sign. Remus opened the door for Patton as they entered the small restaurant. There were a handful of tables set up with only one in use. Remus walked over to greet the small family at the table. Patton followed awkwardly.

“Remus!” A gruff father looking figure shouted and pat Remus on the back. “Good ta see ya.” Also at the table were two small children and an elderly lady.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” The elderly lady chimed in. Remus smiled widely while Patton just sort of shrank behind him.

“Staying out of trouble as much as possible.” Remus chuckled, both the adults laughed.

“Which for you isn’t possible.” The man laughed heartily. Remus smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Clyde, let me introduce you to Patton.” Remus held a hand out as to present Patton. The man looked at him happily.

“Great to meet ya.” Clyde stood up and enveloped Patton’s hand in a strong handshake.

“You too.” Patton said meekly. The large man laughed.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” Clyde joked. “Remus however…” He elbowed Remus who pulled a fake innocent face.

“These darling angels are Taylor and June.” Remus ruffled the hair of the two children who both tried to push his hand away. “And this is Ms Cath. She taught me when I was the kids' sizes.” The elderly lady stood up and hugged Patton. The hug was soothing, it reminded him of his mother. He thought about how long it’s been since he was hugged… a couple months?

“Welcome to our little town, honey.” Ms Cath soothed. “Well let you two get back to it. But if you ever need anything then just stop by the school and see me.” The old lady winked. Remus put a hand on Patton’s back and after a few more words with the family guided Patton to their own table. Patton looked around the restaurant. Not in a nervous way, just the way you do when you enter a new place. The people he’d just met were chatting happily and enjoying their food.  Remus snapped his fingers to get Patton’s attention.

“Hey so the waiter is a friend of mine and he has some unique features. Don’t to stare, it upsets him.” Remus whispered. Patton nodded politely just as the waiter in question showed up.

“So this is the baker I heard about?” The waiter said. Patton looked up to see a little name tag reading ‘Janus’. The man had a large black birthmark and a lazy eye. He figured that’s what Remus meant. 

“I like your hair.” Patton smiled. Janus touched the small bun his dreads were pulled back in. His face was surprised.

“Thanks.” He turned to Remus. “You getting what you always get?” Remus laughed.

“Don’t fix what ain’t broke.” Remus confirmed with a wide smile. “And an extra for my friend here.” Janus nodded and scribbled something down on his notepad.

“Great. I’ll be off work at midnight so if you plan on taking ‘your friend’ home then please be done by then.” Janus said calmly and walked away. Patton blushed but Remus simply laughed. He looked down at Patton, he realised how uncomfortable he looked.

He reached across the table and grabbed Patton’s hand. He noticed a small tattoo on Patton’s wrist he hadn’t seen before, a little frog.

“Sorry, I kinda threw you in the deep end there.” Remus apologised. “Janus was just joking around, he’s really nice albeit a little dry and blunt.” Remus attempted to reassure Patton, it seemed to work as he released the tension in his shoulders a bit and nodded. Remus pulled his hand away.

“Everyone here seems really nice.” Patton said. Remus smiled and looked around. 

“It’s that small town spirit.” Remus replied. “When everyone knows everyone no one is really mean… well except for some of the older families who have weird rivalries but that’s a story for another day.” Remus was so calm, it was weird. Usually he was bouncing off the walls by now but something about Patton was keeping him on the ground.

“Tell me about growing up here?” Patton asked. Remus took a deep breath. There were thousands of stories racing around his head and he needed to find a way to summarise them all.

“It’s chaotic but somehow also predictable.” He eventually answered. “From the outside it’s like a horse rolling around on it’s back. It looks ridiculous but it knows exactly what it’s doing.” Patton was amused by the analogy. He understood that Remus was a country kid but now he was just being cliché. Not to mention Patton knew next to nothing about horses.

“And what does it mean when a horse rolls around?” Patton asked, genuinely curious about the silly behaviour of horses. Remus’ face lit up.

“Most the time it means they got colic and are trying to dislodge whatever got stuck. But if it’s a younger philly they could just be having fun. Colic isn’t serious though, usually it’s solved just by leading it for a walk or a shot of penicillin.” Remus explained. Patton watched how Remus’ eyes sparkled as he talked, he seemed a lot more in his element. “Colic is what keeps the vets round here in business. Pretty much everyone has a horse and the farms all have at least three. I got one still livin’ at my parents place, I’ve been meaning to move her to mine but she’s scared to death of trailers and I don’t have the ti-” Remus was cut off by a groan from Janus who had appeared with two plates.

“Kraken is fine on the farm, they have good use for her.” Janus began. “If we brought her to our place she’d be stuck in a paddock all day and only get ridden every week or so.” Janus placed down the plates with two tall burgers. “Two lamb burgers, one with extra pickle and barbeque sauce.” Janus pulled a face as he announced the last part.

“Thanks.” Patton smiled happily. Janus nodded and walked away. Patton looked over at Remus who was taking pickles off his burger and putting them on a napkin. “Why did you order extra pickles if you aren’t eating them?” Patton was confused. Remus looked up and smiled devilishly. He liked pickles, but always ordered extra for something special.

“You’ll see.” Remus winked as he wrapped up the pickles and put them in his pocket. 

The two men didn’t talk much as they ate. Remus was used to being the kind to devour food quickly while everyone else told him to slow down, so he was surprised when he saw Patton finished his burger first. Patton was just happy to be eating real food again.

“You finished that fast.” Remus said as he took the last bite of his burger. Patton looked up and blushed. Truthfully it was the first thing he’d eaten today, he had skipped breakfast and was too stressed to eat while working. Patton laughed awkwardly. Remus reeled, he meant it as a compliment but was worried Patton didn’t take it that way. “I mean that in a good way, pancake. It’s hard to find people who can keep up with me.” Remus quickly added. Patton giggled. Remus stood to leave but Patton stopped him.

“Wait! We need to pay.” Patton fretted. Remus looked over Patton and winked at Janus, he sighed and waved them away. Patton watched the weird exchange and didn’t notice Remus grab his hand to pull him out of the restaurant. He was tugged out so fast he nearly fell down but he couldn’t help but laugh. Remus pulled him down the dark street as they both cackled.

“Where are we going?” Patton asked through the laughs. Remus looked back and flashed a brilliantly evil smile.

“You wanted a tour, didn’t you?” Remus said as he halted to a stop. Patton nearly ran right into him if it wasn’t for Remus’ outstretched arm. “Here is where we start!” Remus pointed to the building in front of them. A brick building with a clock above the door.

“Mindville Council Hall?” Patton read from the sign next to him. Remus shook his head and shook his pointed hand. Patton followed the line of sight to, “The… clock?” Remus nodded excitedly so fast he looked like he might burst. He reached into his pocket and took out the napkin from the restaurant.

“The clock hasn’t worked in years.” Remus said as he took a pickle from the napkin, he handed the rest to Patton. “This is a way better use for it anyway.” With that Remus hucked the pickle slice into the air towards the clock, it hit the glass cover with a barely audible splat. Remus would come here as a kid and throw all sorts of things, but he found out quickly that pickles were not only the most accessible but also stuck the best. Remus celebrated with a loud cheer and took the pickles from Patton. “Give it a try.” Patton gently took a pickle and looked up at the clock. It was at least ten meters up.

“I’m not sure I can get it…” Patton conceded. Remus took a pickle slice and laughed.

“Who cares?” Remus shouted as he threw another pickle, this one hitting above the first. Patton took a deep breath and pulled back his hand. He closed his hand and threw the pickle as hard as he could. He looked up in time to see it land just short of the clock. He blushed in embarrassment but to his surprise Remus hollered.

“Whooo!” Remus cheered. His whoops were brash and loud, like when the electric mixer hit the edge of the metal bowl. “That’s a great shot!” Patton smiled at the enthusiasm and grabbed another slice. Remus did too and they both threw them together. Remus hit the 4 while Patton’s was just shy of the clock again. Suddenly the lights of the building turned on around them. “On to the next place!” Remus threw the napkin with the rest of the slices and began bolting down the road, Patton stood shocked for a second then followed.

“Aren’t you the mayor?” Patton huffed as they ran. Remus was surprisingly fast and he had trouble keeping up.

“Yes, and?” Remus said, barely breaking a sweat. When they were far enough away Remus slowed down and started pointing out the shops they walked past. “That is the butcher, if you ask nicely they’ll give you bones that aren’t big enough to sell as dog bones. That’s Salamanders Silk, one of the 7 places I’ve gotten a cut that needs stitching which is ironic given it’s a clothes store.” Something told Patton this tour wouldn’t be overly informative of the actual places. “And this is the bakery that makes amazing muffins.” Remus stopped. Patton realised they were in front of his shop. He looked up at the bare walls of the building, it looked abandoned. Every shop in town had nice signs and lovely paint but his just looked sad. 

“How about I give you a tour?” Patton chimed in happily. Remus looked down and nodded excitedly. Patton walked up and unlocked the door. “Welcome to Froggy and Doggy Bakery.” Patton sang happily.

“Finally, I get a name.” Remus joked. Patton sighed and looked up at the empty space where a sign should hang.

“Yeah I need to get on to the sign company again.” He said sadly. Remus took a mental note of Patton’s qualms.

“How’d you get the name? Is doggy your favourite position or something?” Remus asked as he walked in. Patton locked the door behind them and flipped on the lights.

“Actually it’s based on a story my mother told me as a kid.” Patton started. Remus regretted his previous statement. “There was a princess who had two suitors, a prince and a farmer. She asked each to bring her an animal as a gift. The prince brought her a well bred dog with beautiful hair. The farmer brought her a small green frog. She took each pet and announced she would be marrying the farmer. The prince got mad and demanded her to answer why. She said that anyone can go out and buy a dog, but the farmer had spent time catching the frog and cleaning it to present to her. Even though his gift wasn’t the most pretty or conventional, it had the most effort and thought put in it.” Patton smiled as he told the story, Remus was entrapped by his words. He clearly had fond memories of that story and it was reflected in how happily he told it.

“I think that’s my new favourite fairy tale.” Remus said when Patton finished talking. “Is that why you have that tattoo as well?” Remus gestured to Patton’s wrist. He nodded.

“My ex was a tattoo artist and he did it as a birthday gift.” Patton said as he rubbed a thumb over the small frog drawn on his wrist. It took him a moment to realise he had just come out to a man he’d met only earlier today. He looked up expecting some sort of reaction from Remus, but he didn’t care. Remus was just looking around the bakery, closely inspecting a sign on one of the walls. Patton found it refreshing to have someone not have a big reaction.

“Art gallery? What’s this for?” Remus asked. The wall had no art on it, just a few small shelves. Patton walked over to join him.

“Oh my mother had the idea that artists could put up any art they had to sell here for a small fee. That way we could generate more business while helping people.” Patton informed. “That reminds me, is there a homeless shelter I could donate any unsold items to?” Remus was surprised. Patton had never been here and already wanted to help the people. It was admirable.

“Well there aren’t any homeless shelters here because there isn’t a need for them, but there is one in the city as you probably know. It’s an hour drive but they’d probably be very happy with a donation even once a week.” Remus explained. Patton looked back blankly.

“Why would I know that?” Patton asked.

“You lived there before you moved here, didn’t you?” Remus thought it was obvious. The only people who knew about this town were the people living in it and some of the people in surrounding areas.

“No. I lived on the coast.” Patton said. 

That’s in the very least 3 hours away. Remus thought.

“Why’d you move here then?” Remus asked plainly, not knowing that for Patton it was a loaded question. Patton crossed his arms and looked down. Remus noticed. “Oh- uh- you don’t have to answer.” He stammered quickly trying to comfort Patton. He was curious but didn’t want to make Patton uncomfortable.

“Thanks.” Patton whispered. It hurt to think back to the time before he moved. It hurt to remember how he pretended to be happy so much that he even fooled himself. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and smiled at Remus. “How about some dessert?” Patton chirped. He really bounced back quickly. Remus wasn’t sure if Patton was serious or flirting so he just nodded his head. Patton clapped and made a happy noise. He led Remus up the stairs to his apartment and unlocked the door, the whole time Remus becoming more and more confused what this invitation entailed.Patton opened the door and allowed Remus to enter. He entered the small studio apartment with an impressive kitchen. Remus didn’t know how to play this. Did Patton think this was a date? Even so he was so sweet and kind that Remus didn’t pin him as the kind to give it up on the first date. Remus tentatively walked over and sat on the large bed. Patton looked across the room where Remus had taken a seat on his bed. It suddenly hit him how his offer may have sounded. Thoughts crashed against Patton’s mind. He quickly walked over and opened the fridge. Patton pulled out a few small caramel tartlets and brought them over to Remus. “Ta da!” Patton announced.

Oh of course. Remus thought. Of course Patton meant actual dessert. He’s a fucking baker.

Patton once again was alone but this time he was a lot happier. 

“They look great.” Remus said as he admired the lovely caramel tarts with chocolate shavings.

“Take them. As a thank you for tonight.” Patton pressed the plate into Remus’ arms. Remus took the plate and tried one of the tarts. The rich caramel melted in his mouth and blended perfectly with the buttery shortbread crust. “And tell Janus I said thanks too.”

“He’ll love these.” Remus mumbled, shoving another in his mouth. Patton giggled. Remus said his goodbyes and left. 

[violetwolfraven]

Touch x5

No one asked for this but y’all can’t stop me. Basically 3 people who experience the Newsies habits involving physical touch, (and why specific individuals touch each other) 1 who is reintroduced to it, and 1 who completely misreads what it means.

Warnings: Uh... period-typical homophobia/internalized homophobia, referenced physical abuse, PTSD, brief mentions of injuries I guess?

...

x1

Les thought the atmosphere that was created by most or all of the Manhattan Newsies (plus a couple of Brooklyn boys, occasionally) was exciting.

He’d always had friends back in school, but his old buddies weren’t like this. They didn’t randomly jump up against a building to vault off it and do a backflip just to hear the cheers and laughter of their friends. They didn’t check each other over carefully whenever someone was hurt. They didn’t take a second to stop and ask if you were okay if you did anything that indicated you might be sad.

But mostly, Les’s old friends didn’t touch each other as much as his new ones did.

Back in school, it had always been ‘hands to yourself,’ except when they were playing tag or football. But with the Newsies, it was a constant stream of friendly touches. Les was always getting his hair ruffled or his shoulder squeezed or his arm punched in a friendly way and he loved it. He even loved the way one Newsie would take his hat off so another could slap him with theirs if he said something stupid.

Les was well aware that in school, it wasn’t that way because... well, that would be weird. You didn’t just sling your arm around your friend for an entire conversation or jump on their back and cling there until there was a risk of falling over just to surprise them. You just didn’t.

But you did with the Newsies. You didn’t question it. You just did.

Les thought it might be about the way everyone reacted after the strike, when everyone was in pain and those who were in a little less were helping those who were in a little more. Les vaguely remembered Race rubbing his arms to try to calm him down and flicking his nose in a friendly manner before quickly setting his broken wrist with a stick and some stray strips of fabric and telling him not to take it out of the sling until it didn’t hurt anymore, plus a day, just to be safe.

And after he was okay—well, not crying anymore and more okay than a lot of others were—Les noticed how even when all of them were covered in cuts and bruises that would probably just hurt more if touched, the stream of physical contact didn’t end. No, it just got a little more gentle, taking away the fearful adrenaline and helping everyone feel safe.

Kid Blink still leaned against Mush’s knee despite his bruises, sitting in front of the crate the other boy was on. Les knew that the only people around to see in the alley all the Newsies were clumped together in between some dumpsters as they patched each other up enough to move back to the Lodging House were each other, but that didn’t make it any less surprising when Mush stopped stroking Blink’s hair and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

Les knew even most of the other Newsies didn’t touch each other that way, so he guessed maybe ‘best friends’ wasn’t a term that applied well to the pair.

Well, confusing as that may be, Les didn’t see how it could be anything but natural in a group that made each other feel safe even while most of them were hurt.

...

x2

Sarah knew not a lot of girls sold newspapers, and sometimes she asked Davey to go grab her papes to avoid the Delancey brothers’ comments, but she certainly enjoyed this more than her old factory job, and besides, now there was room to make friends.

All of Davey’s new friends were fun, but at first Sarah thought they were a bit handsy, with the way someone was always clapping her on the back or bumping her shoulder or grabbing her hand just to squeeze it before running off to their spot. But then she figured out that they acted like that with everyone, and they always stopped if she asked them to, and it wasn’t just because she was a girl around their age.

It took some getting used to, but Sarah eventually found it just another part of her day. It became routine; block Jack’s hand before he could mess up her hair, let Mike and Ike adjust her form when they teach her some self defense, throw her arm around Jojo to stop girls from flirting with him so he doesn’t get uncomfortable... it was easy. Physical contact was written in everything the Newsies did. It was as essential as breathing.

And then there was Katherine, and Katherine didn’t have as much time to hang around the group, but she’d joined it around the same time Sarah did, and was just as new at all of this.

Katherine’s red hair shined in the sun and her hands were always gentle when she helped a little one patch up a scraped knee and Sarah really wanted to hold her hand but she wasn’t sure if Katherine would be okay with that, with how the reporter often brushed away Jack’s and Romeo’s touches as annoying.

And since Sarah spent practically every day with the Newsies, she knew their gossip better than Katherine could. She knew that several pairs of them were... more than friendly, even being the same gender, and while it wasn’t safe, the group didn’t care. Sarah had no intention of telling anyone that she was attracted to girls, but she was. She understood what they felt but didn’t know if Katherine would even want to be her friend if she knew.

But then one day, Katherine was hanging around the girls’ corner of the Lodging House, where Sniper and Smalls slept and had a couple spare blankets to drape down from the top bunk so the boys couldn’t see them change, and Sarah found out that the reporter didn’t mind at all.

Sniper was leaning upside down over the edge of the bunk, trying to win a bet and shoot a can set up on one of the boy’s beds, when Smalls very suddenly kissed her, making her miss her shot, though Sarah noted that Sniper didn’t seem to mind that much, just content to keep doing what they were doing.

Katherine’s only reaction was to roll her eyes and smile, swatting Smalls with a newspaper and complaining that she’d cheated. And when the short brunette fell backwards next to Sarah sitting on the next bunk over, Sarah was glad that it was acceptable to reach over and squeeze Smalls tightly in her excitement.

...

x3

When Katherine first started hanging out with the Newsies, she’d figured out pretty quick that touch was their love language, and not even in a romantic way, for the most part. Touching each other was how they made sure each other were okay and how they showed their brotherly bond. It was beautiful to Katherine, if very different from how Bill, Darcy, and all the other men she’d grown up with expressed affection.

For the Newsies, it was the most natural thing in the world to celebrate a good headline by grabbing the nearest friend and dancing a messy little do-si-do, or to huddle together on a cold day. Not a one of them bothered with social conventions that men weren’t supposed to show affection, and definitely not by touching each other constantly.

But that was how the Newsies worked, and Katherine couldn’t say she was sorry that they adopted her effortlessly, incorporating her into their existing friendship like she’d always belonged there.

Katherine liked waking up early to meet them at the gates for a bit of hangout time before work started. She liked meeting Davey halfway for a one-armed hug, or dodging Jack and Romeo’s joke-flirting only to let them clasp her shoulder in greeting, or making up a new secret handshake with Race because they both forgot the one they made last time.

Actually, it was through Race that Katherine learned how some of the touches between certain Newsies weren’t just about friendship.

She was meeting him over at Sheepshead, since supposedly he had a scoop on one of the trainers sabotaging other people’s horses, though Katherine was a little skeptical about if he’d actually found anything or was just over-dramatizing things.

She’d turned a corner to the place under the stands where Race usually was when he took a break from selling, only to find not only her good friend Racetrack Higgins, but Spot Conlon, and well... even for the Newsies, being pinned against a wall while someone kissed you senseless wasn’t a platonic gesture.

The two jumped apart the second they saw Katherine, and Race tried to say that it wasn’t what it looked like, but Katherine assured them that she wasn’t going to tell anyone, but wanted to know if the Newsies were okay with that kind of thing; being in a relationship with someone of the same gender.

Race was puzzled, but responded that, yes, the fellas were fine with it, and that various combinations of their group had courted at one point or another, with several pairs currently together. Spot chimed in to report that even a few inter-borough relationships happened, his and Race’s being one of them.

That fact known, Katherine felt absolutely no guilt when Medda put on a special show after hours just for the Newsies as a one-time thing, and Katherine put her arm around Sarah near the beginning of it, the two of them more or less cuddling for the duration of the show. And she definitely wasn’t complaining when a love song came on, and Sarah gently turned her face up so her lips could meet Katherine’s.

Somehow, the fact that Jack had seen and told pretty much everyone didn’t embarrass Katherine too much. Or maybe she just enjoyed the playful camaraderie of her friends coming up to congratulate her with a handshake or a slap on the arm.

...

x4

Crutchie had always known that his friendship with the other Newsies worked differently than a lot of friendships, but he’d never really registered how differently until he was forced to go without it.

In the Refuge, there was no Jack helping him get down a ladder, or Romeo offering a one-armed hug as a good morning, or Finch ruffling his hair when he predicted the weather. Even being new, Crutchie noticed the sore absense of any kind of positive contact between anyone. Even boys who claimed to be friends never touched unless they absolutely had to.

No, contact was limited to Snyder and the guards giving a beating, or someone roughly shoving their way down the hallway because they judged those in front of them too slow, or a hard slap against a limb to try to jostle for more space on the bed or get someone’s foot out of their face.

The only remotely positive interactions Crutchie got were sympathetic grimaces from a boy who saw his bruises, or an only slightly grumpy hand handing him his crutch, but those things were not even close to what he was used to and not nearly enough after years of nearly constant friendly contact from boys he considered his brothers.

Then Crutchie was released, and he got back that contact he’d been hanging onto the memory of, but somehow it wasn’t how he remembered it. He suddenly couldn’t let Race throw an arm around his shoulder to greet him in the morning. He couldn’t accept a double-hug from Mike and Ike when there was a good headline or keep from flinching when Jack tried to make sure he didn’t fall on the way down from the Penthouse.

Crutchie didn’t understand. He’d spent his time in the Refuge missing this and now he could barely take any of it? It didn’t make sense.

When he tried to explain to Jack, the older boy just smiled sadly and nodded in understanding. He said that he’d gone through that when he first got out; not being able to let anyone touch him for a while. Jack still couldn’t handle people touching his left shoulder unexpectedly, but they all had little triggers like that. Random touches or tones of voice paired with specific words that couldn’t be used. Crutchie just didn’t understand why he seemed to be triggered by practically everything.

But Jack said to give it time. To let this get better with time and just try to be patient with himself.

And slowly, with help from the other Newsies, all of whom were willing to do whatever they had to do to help as best they could, Crutchie did get better.

Maybe not all of his scars could completely heal with time, but Crutchie was getting better. Now, when Davey patted his shoulder before they parted ways selling or Romeo leaned up against him while dramatically describing his latest failed romantic venture, most touch could feel as normal as it had before he’d gotten taken.

...

x5

Davey had noticed the Newsies as very physically connected people even before he’d been one of them. That was to say he’d noticed them playing around, putting each other in headlocks and even one guy casually riding on another’s shoulders from the first morning he’d started selling.

And as much as Davey enjoyed this dynamic once he started getting included in it and got used to someone always touching him, it made it that much more painful, knowing that a certain friend of his touched everyone he cared about like that.

Davey had never fallen in love before, so he kind of missed that he did at first, before realizing that what he was feeling for one of the Newsies was everything he’d read in books that involved love. From thinking about him constantly to getting butterflies whenever he saw his smile, Davey couldn’t deny that he felt something more than simple friendship.

Unfortunately, Jack Kelly happened to be a boy, which made him completely unattainable, even if it made Davey felt like sparks were flying every time he touched him, and he had to remind himself that it didn’t mean a thing.

It didn’t mean anything that Jack practically picked Davey up in his excitement when there was a really good headline and he hugged him and spun around. It didn’t mean anything when he grabbed Davey’s face to check him for injuries after they got out of a fight. It didn’t mean anything when there weren’t any spare chairs in Jacobis and Jack chose Davey’s lap instead of the table.

After all, he’d seen Race hug Spot much tighter when he got excited. Sniper always looked that worried when she checked Smalls over after a fight. Kid Blink sat on Mush’s lap even when there were free seats.

And it wasn’t like Albert didn’t kiss Finch on the cheek some mornings before mock saluting when they went off on separate selling routes, or laugh loudly when the taller boy sometimes pulled him back to whisper something in his ear while keeping one hand on Albert’s waist.

All that was to be expected of Newsie friendships. None of it was weird with them because... well, it just wasn’t. The fact that he loved those friendships so much was why Davey could absolutely not tell anyone that he’d fallen for his best friend. They would never understand. The others would hate him if they found out, not that Davey could blame them. Guys weren’t supposed to love other guys. Davey knew that, so as long as nobody ever found out, those friendly touches and friendships wouldn’t change and Davey would never lose them, right?

Wrong, apparently.

It wasn’t common that the entire group wasn’t together after a day of selling, but when one of those days came, Jack was painting a backdrop for Medda, and the rest of them were hanging out in the Lodging House, Davey personally watching Race beat everyone at poker.

“So, when is Jack getting back?”

It’d been an innocent question. Fair, for a best friend. Davey didn’t think anyone would suspect anything.

Instead, Race turned around to give Davey a smirk, “Why? Only been a few hours since sellin’ time! Missin’ ya boyfriend already?”

“What? My—“ Davey sputtered, “Jack is not my— why would you think—?”

“Please,” Spot said nonchalantly, “As if we all couldn’t see how you’se been crushin’ on him since day one.”

Davey’s breathing sped up as he realized what they were saying. They knew. They all knew.

“Whoa, Davey, are you okay?” Mush’s voice asked, sounding far away.

Davey couldn’t breath. He was going to lose them all. He didn’t have any other friends and now he was going to lose the ones he had. Everything felt like too much, from the press of the bedpost where he was gripping it probably too tight to the others voices, all overlapping and sounding too loud and too far away all at once. Davey sucked in breath as fast as he could but it didn’t seem to be enough. He still couldn’t breath. He couldn’t get enough air.

One voice cut through it all.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong? Davey! Davey, are you okay?”

Davey flinched away from Jack’s touch, and the other boy stopped trying to grab his shoulders, his hands hovering halfway between Davey sitting on the bed and Jack crouching in front of him.

“Davey, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but you need to try to breath, okay? Just take a deep breath with me. In... and out.”

Davey did his best, breathing in and out as Jack instructed, slowly managing to come down from his panic.

Jack looked around accusingly at the fellas, “Alright, who did this? What did alls you’se do?”

“We didn’t do anything!” Spot protested.

“Spot mentioned things ‘bout Davey bein’ queer,” Smalls said.

“Smalls!”

“What? I tells the truth, unlike you!”

Jack looked back at Davey, and found that the other boy wouldn’t look him in the eye. Why would he? Davey certainly didn’t want to look at the boy he loved whilst getting kicked out of the friend group.

“Don’t worry about it,” Davey mumbled, “If it’s okay with you, Les’ll keep selling, but I’m sure I can find other work.”

“What are you...” Jack seemed to realize something, “Dave, can I touch you?”

Davey was surprised he wanted to, but nodded.

Causing even more surprise, Jack didn’t put his hand on Davey���s arm or hand. Instead, he grabbed the taller boy’s chin gently and forced Davey to look at him.

“Dave, what do you see when you look over there?”

Davey looked where Jack was gesturing with the hand that hadn’t moved to Davey’s shoulder. He didn’t understand, but he looked.

Blink was sitting in the poker circle, on Mush’s lap as he leaned back against the other boy’s chest, somehow neither of them having looked at each other’s cards.

Smalls was on a bunk behind them, laying back with her head close to where Sniper was sitting, who was softly smiling as she stroked Smalls’s hair. Smalls was playing, but Sniper wasn’t.

Race had his legs tossed across Spot’s, and he occasionally leaned over to try to get a look at his cards, though the King of Brooklyn always pushed him back with a fond smile.

Finch was playing as a team with Albert as they didn’t have enough cards for everyone, and the latter was between the former’s legs as Finch rested his chin on top of Albert’s hair.

Katherine wasn’t playing poker, but she was perched on a bunk nearby, sitting very close to Sarah, who was looking at Davey like he was stupid for some reason.

Sarah only gave him that look when she was genuinely frustrated with him, and Davey stared his twin down, not sure what she was trying to get at, here as they tried to communicate with just their facial expressions.

“Uh, what’s going on there?” Jack asked.

“It’s a twin thing,” Mike answered.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Ike agreed.

Davey gave up trying to get whatever Sarah was trying to communicate and turned back to Jack.

“What am I looking at?”

Jack made a small noise of disbelief, “You really don’t see it?”

“See what?”

Jack huffed and dragged his hands through his hair, “So, why do you think we wouldn’t want to be friends with you anymore?”

“Because I’m... I like boys,” Davey admitted, “Why would you want to be friends with someone like that? You’re all such close friends, and—“

“You think we’re all friends?” Albert asked, sounding disbelieving.

“Of course you are. Why else would you be—“

“Davey,” Mush cut him off gently, “That’s not... we aren’t...” he made a frustrated noise, “I don’t do this with my friends.”

Davey was fairly certain his brain short-circuited out of surprise as Mush leaned down and full-on kissed Blink on the lips. Sniper wolf-whistled, but other than that, nobody had really any reaction.

As they separated, Blink shrugged with a smile, “He does that with me, though.”

Suddenly, a lot of things made a lot more sense, and Davey wondered how he’d never seen it before. Even Sarah... oh, God, how had he never noticed?

“Yeah, we don’t much care if ya like Jack’s ass,” Spot summed up.

Davey froze. He’d just accepted that the fellas were okay with him liking boys, but that didn’t mean he wanted Jack to know he liked him.

Especially since... especially since even if Jack didn’t care, he’d been with Katherine a while back, and Sarah for a bit afterwards. He liked girls. He wasn’t one of the ones like Davey.

But Jack just stifled a laugh, “You like my ass?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Davey mumbled, “But yeah, I... I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. And it’s okay that you don’t feel the same.”

Davey made a point not to meet Jack’s eyes. He didn’t want to know what the other boy’s expression was, because even if he wasn’t disgusted by Davey liking boys, he might be by Davey liking him specifically, and even if he wasn’t, he might feel guilty for rejecting him, and Davey didn’t want him to hurt like that or at all and—

“Why would you think I don’t feel the same?”

Jack’s words were soft in a way Davey had never heard before, and gentle in a way that he had never expected to have meant for him.

Davey looked up in surprise, meeting Jack’s eyes and finding that his expression was gentle and almost... loving?

“You were with Katherine,” Davey stuttered, “And... and Sarah. You like girls.”

He was finding it very hard to think as Jack ever so slowly leaned closer, laughing lightly.

“And that means I can’t like boys?”

“Well...” Davey’s brain melted as Jack leaned his forehead against his own, the gentle pressure sending fireworks through his mind.

“It just so happens, I like you a lot, too,” Jack said quietly, “And in case you still don’t get it...”

Jack pressed a small kiss to Davey’s lips and Davey felt warmth pass through him in a flash.

“I love you, Davey Jacobs.”

Davey took a shaky breath, not quite believing his ears, but responding anyway.

“And I love you, too, Jack Kelly.”

This time, Davey kissed him first, and he certainly didn’t feel Jack protesting as the shorter boy kissed him back.

It wasn’t until Sniper wolf-whistled that Davey remembered there were other people in the room. He hid his face in Jack’s shoulder as the room full of their friends actually applauded.

“Okay, okay!” Jack called, waving his hands around for emphasis, “You’se can collect ya bets now, but leave me and my boy alone, hear? We’ll be in my Penthouse if anyone needs me.”

As they left the room, several Newsies clapped Davey on the shoulders or ruffled his hair in encouragement, all calling out their congratulations.

Yeah, Davey decided that in a sea of friendly touches and a few more than friendly touches, he was happy.

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Weeks 14 (late) and 15 (on time) Roundup!

Real life came for the Tumblr mod in a beastly kind of way last week, so here’s both roundup weeks packed in together!

A quick reminder, this is the info we need to log your fills on the spreadsheet.  And if we don’t have this info, you can’t get your badges!

Title: Collaborator: Link: AO3 Square Filled: Ship: Rating: Major Tags: Summary: Word Count:

And keep in mind, we’ve got our Discord Party coming up on the 25th!  We’ll do games, a drawing for prize tokens, sprints, brainstorming, etc.  We will also be opening up badge claims AND late signups again!

Title: Having your cake & Bucky too Collaborator: crazycatt71 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - kink: body worship Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content Summary: Bucky bakes Clint a birthday cake. Clint has cake and Bucky too Word Count: 1775

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Title: N/A Collaborator: feignedsobriquet Link: Pillowfort Square Filled: B1 - AU: Dragons Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: art  Summary: fanart for brighteyesillusionist’s Tales of Cerulean Scales

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Title: Aw, Packing, No Collaborator: squadrickchestopher Link: AO3 Square Filled: U5 - comfort clothes Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: “I know.” He walks over. “You know what this means, though.” “Sex on the beach?” “No. Well, maybe.” Bucky takes the envelope from him. “But first, we have to pack. With actual suitcases.” Predictably, Clint’s face falls at those words. “Aw, packing, no.” Word Count: 1570

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Title: Lead Me Into His Dark Land - Chapter 1 Collaborator: Faustess Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - Family of Choice Ship: WinterPepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Inspired by Corpse Bride (2005), Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Cheating, Pre-Poly, Supernatural Elements Summary: Lord James "Bucky" Barnes, master of the Winterbrook estate, has spent his fortune on veteran's homes and on care for his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers. With the assistance of a friend made during his days at war, Natasha Romanov, he's been able to arrange a good marriage with the daughter of a prominent local industrialist. Pepper Potts's step-mother wants nothing more than to rub elbows with the local aristocrats and her father wants Pepper to marry well - for her own sake, rather than that of his wife. He's confident everyone will end up happy as long as everything goes According To Plan. But when it doesn't? It's anyone's guess what'll happen. Word Count: 2786

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Title: I Never Saw You Coming (And I'll Never Be The Same) - Chapter 1 Collaborator: cpt_winniethepooh Link: AO3 Square Filled: C2 - shelter Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, virus and quarantine life Summary: Steve Rogers is small, sickly, yet more fierce and determined than anybody Bucky Barnes, member of the Avengers, has ever met. After their accidental meeting at an animal shelter Bucky knows he'd very much like to keep Steve in his life, even if it comes with constant anxiety about Steve's mental and physical well-being. Or five times Bucky is worried for Steve, and the one time he isn't. Word Count: 5073

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Title: End Of All Days -  Chapter 19: Part XVIII Collaborator: Minka Link: AO3 Square Filled: U2 – Touch Starved Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Graphic violence for other chapters Summary: Captain Steve Rogers had thought his military days were behind him, left in the bloody nightmare that was Saigon. Retired and working as a History Professor, the last thing he expected was to get caught up in a cataclysmic Slavic prophesy foreshadowing the end of the known world. With Cold War tensions running high, Steve finds himself in need of a guide and translator to get him behind the Iron Curtain and into the isolated snowdrifts of Siberia. It’s deep in the heart of Bucharest’s resistance fighters that Steve finds the ideal candidate, but swaying the enigmatic ex-operative known as The Winter Soldier proves to be complicated. Trust is hard-won, especially in the world of espionage, and with a KGB death squad nipping at his heels, the Soldier has countless reasons to stay presumably dead. As the lines between right, wrong and the supernatural begin to blur, Steve is forced to reconsider everything he’s ever believed, right from the sanctity of his own country to the very foundations of creation itself. Word Count: 89,347

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Title: I Never Saw You Coming (And I'll Never Be The Same) - Chapter 2 Collaborator: cpt_winniethepooh Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - warm and fuzzy feelings Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, virus and quarantine life Summary: A short and sweet NSFW chapter. Word Count: 5073

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Title: Lead Me Into His Dark Land - Chapter 2 Collaborator: Faustess Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Tony Stark Ship: WinterPepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Inspired by Corpse Bride (2005), Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Cheating, Pre-Poly, Supernatural Elements Summary: Pepper manages to say her vows perfectly... to the wrong man. We meet Tony, Rhodey tells a story (which Tony interrupts - frequently), and there's a tearful reunion. Just another day in the life of Pepper Potts. And yes, her stays are too tight for that kind of running. Word Count: 3210

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Title: I Never Saw You Coming (And I'll Never Be The Same) - Chapter 3 Collaborator: cpt_winniethepooh Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y1 - rescue mission Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, virus and quarantine life, mentions of off-screen OC character death and trauma Summary: A mission in the background and some teamwork ahead! Word Count: 5073

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Title: Lead Me Into His Dark Land - Chapter 3 Collaborator: Faustess Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y3 - Whiplash Ship: WinterPepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Inspired by Corpse Bride (2005), Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Cheating, Pre-Poly, Supernatural Elements Summary: Pepper returns to say good-bye to James, but Tony misunderstands and reconsiders the wisdom of their marriage. Meanwhile, James raves about the living dead walking the earth and even his best friends are afraid for his welfare... and his marriage prospects. Word Count: 4481

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Title: Crop Tops and Thighs Out Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - frenemies Ship: Sam & Bucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: art embedded, crack and humor Summary: Bucky is struggling with the blurred lines between himself and the Soldier... at least until he sees Sam's new outfit. Word Count: 633

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Title: Calm before the storm Collaborator: Raz Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U5 - Historical Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: An elusive, yet renowned mercenary stops for a break by the fireside between jobs and locations. Being highly skilled with a wolf branded axe has earned him the name Ulfragnarr; terrifying wolf warrior. Aka Bucky Barnes Viking AU

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Title: Happy Not Anniversary Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U4 - Clint Barton Ship: WinterHawk/Reader Rating: Teen Major Tags: light sexual themes Summary: Clint makes Bucky and the reader breakfast for their anniversary, however they all have different ideas of when that day actually is. Word Count:1913

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Title: no more, no less Collaborator: nightwideopen Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Teen Major Tags: implied/referenced past sexual assault/harassment Summary: When Bucky kisses Clint for the first time, he’s surprised, to say the least. Word Count: 1146

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Title: Handshook Collaborator: Menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K3 - Till death do us part Ship: WinterIron Rating: M for fic, G for moodboards Major Tags: Strangers to Husbands Speed Run; Canon-Typical Violence; Happy Ending; in-universe equivalent to public nudity; in-universe equivalent to public sex; (bared hands and hand shaking); Oops we’re married; Accidental Bonding; Sci-Fi AU; Tony Stark Does What He Wants; eventual BAMF everybody Summary: “Get me a handshake, Tony, that’s it. Don’t break anything and please do not turn this into an interspecies war.” -James Rhodes Tony Stark is the first man in the history of the human race to breach the heliosphere keeping humanity from the rest of the universe. Bucky’s people, the Aldori, a technologically advanced, space-faring race, watch him do it. They demand a meeting to establish diplomatic relations and determine whether or not humans will prove to be a threat. Without letting the Aldori know that only Tony’s ship is advanced enough to make the trip, Rhodey is forced to send him as ambassador. Simple enough, until the Aldori learn that humans make first contact by shaking hands. Lewd.

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Title: Putting The Pieces Together Collaborator: steves-on-a-plane Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C4 - Secret Relationship Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: ?  Summary: Reader is Steve’s sibling and they’ve been seeing Bucky in secret for years. Steve is away on a mission, so Bucky and Reader are enjoying alone time together. That is until the Star Spangled Man comes home early… Word Count: 1260

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Title: I Never Saw You Coming (And I'll Never Be The Same) Collaborator: cpt_winniethepooh Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Chapter 4 - what doesn’t kill me makes me mad Chapter 5 - asking for trouble Chapter 6 - showoff Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, coronavirus and quarantine, BLM and protests Summary: Steve Rogers is small, sickly, yet more fierce and determined than anybody Bucky Barnes, member of the Avengers, has ever met. After their accidental meeting at an animal shelter Bucky knows he'd very much like to keep Steve in his life, even if it comes with constant anxiety about Steve's mental and physical well-being.Or five times Bucky is worried for Steve, and the one time he is worried for everyone else but Steve. Word Count: 10,407

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Title: [Podfic] Mirror Collaborator: shadow-ravin Link: AO3 Square Filled: C1 - AU: Canon Divergence Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: Spies & Secret Agents, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Remix, Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes Summary: Podfic of Mirror by saiditallbefore - Natasha travels to Miami to root out intelligence on HYDRA. She finds much more than she bargained for.

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Title: echoes from the breakdown - Chapter 4 Collaborator: hddnone Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - Hand-holding Ship: WinterIronWidow Rating: Mature Major Tags: Graphic Violence, Post CA-CW Canon Divergence Summary: On a mission gone wrong, Bucky breaks down. With Bucky and team signed under the Accords, the fallout of his mistakes could break the team apart all over again. Natasha won't let that happen. Turns out Tony won't let that happen either. Secrets had divided them before, but now maybe a shared secret can pull the three of them together. Word Count: 6392

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Title: Ashes and Blood Collaborator: shadow-ravin Link: AO3 Square Filled: C2 - Ashes   Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: Poetry, Self-Reflection, Self-Hatred, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, podfic included Summary: Bucky reflects on who he is and what he has done. Word Count: 352

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Title: Enemy - Chapter 2 Collaborator: grimeysociety Link: AO3 Square Filled: U1 - Bucky/Darcy Ship: Bucky/Darcy Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Explicit Sexual Content Summary: Friendship with Bucky began like pulling a thorn out of a wolf’s paw. Word Count: 3025

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Title: Friday night and the lights are low - Chapter 1: Bucky/Jane Collaborator: heyboydraws Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - Bucky/Jane Ship: Bucky/Jane Rating: Teen Major Tags: art Summary: Bucky is a vet, recently back home and finally healed from his injury. In an effort to blow off some steam and meet new people, he hits the club every weekend. It turns out that this particular nightclub is also a favorite hangout for some local superheroes. Word Count: 221

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Title: Fire Sale Collaborator: betheflame Link: AO3 Square Filled: U5 - Plot Twist Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: none Summary: Set in Earth 97082 - where Tony tries to sell of his suits and it goes BADLY. Word Count: 1261

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Title: The Witch Hunter Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y3: Identity Porn Ship: WinterWitch Rating: Teen Major Tags: Witches, Church, Heresy Summary: It’s the same old story, every time. Witch appears, idiots try to kill witch. Shit happens. God, Bucky’s tired of it. Word Count: 1724

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Title: Steve, I Feel Pretty Collaborator: Purple_ducky00 Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - Free square Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: concubine AU Summary: As king, it isn't surprising that King Tony has a harem. What shocks them is the time(s) he brings a concubine to court.Or, how Bucky learns to love himself. Word Count: 2203

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Title: Tap That Collaborator: Kalee60 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: Stucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: When Steve is distracted while waiting at a busy crosswalk on the way to an important meeting, he inadvertently meets the man of his dreams - but only after making the most mortifying social gaffe of his life. Red-faced and apologetic he tries to forget the incident. But sometimes when things go wrong - they suddenly turn out spectacularly right. Word Count: 2129

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Title: Sixteen Months Collaborator: squadrickchestopher Link: AO3 Square Filled: U2 - barista Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: graphic descriptions of violence Summary: There is a reason James doesn’t allow his dates to spend the night. Word Count: 3658

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Title: Exile Collaborator: grimeysociety Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - exile Ship: Bucky/Darcy Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Suicide Attempt, Suicide/Self-Harm Themes, Explicit Sexual Content Summary: (n.) the state or a period of forced absence from one's country or home. The state or a period of voluntary absence from one's country or home. A person who is in exile. Bucky's stint in hospital after a suicide attempt. Word Count: 8342

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Title: (Waffle) Iron Man Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: U3 - Upgrade Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: implied domestic abuse (not between main characters), violence, death of a waffle iron Summary: Ana gave Tony a waffle iron when he moved out. Ty Stone appropriated it after their breakup. Tony wants it back. Word Count: 3948

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Title: Listen Before I Go Collaborator: avintagekiss24 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C1 - angst Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Explicit Major Tags: angst, heavy angst, smut, sex, bucky barnes’ trigger words, cock warming if you look close Summary: you and bucky just can’t say what you want to say. Word Count: 6630

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Title: Running In Place Collaborator: the_genderman Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - disability Ship: Bucky & Steve & Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: A brief slice of life as Bucky acclimates to life in the Avengers Compound, his chronic pain, and Tony Stark... being Tony Stark. At least Steve's as reliable as ever. Word Count: 1400

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Title: echoes from the breakdown - Chapter 5 Collaborator: hddnone Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - insomnia Ship: WinterIronWidow Rating: Mature Major Tags: Graphic Violence, Post CA-CW Canon Divergence Summary: On a mission gone wrong, Bucky breaks down. With Bucky and team signed under the Accords, the fallout of his mistakes could break the team apart all over again. Natasha won't let that happen. Turns out Tony won't let that happen either. Secrets had divided them before, but now maybe a shared secret can pull the three of them together. Word Count: 9238

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Title: Things are going great, and they're only getting better Collaborator: heyboydraws Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C5 - Multiple Personalities Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art  Summary: Bucky serves up a variety of looks when he goes undercover.

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Title: Friday night and the lights are low - Chapter 3: Bucky/Scott Collaborator: HeyBoy Link: AO3 Square Filled: ? Ship: Bucky/Scott Rating: Teen Major Tags: art Summary: Bucky is a vet, recently back home and finally healed from his injury. In an effort to blow off some steam and meet new people, he hits the club every weekend. It turns out that this particular nightclub is also a favorite hangout for some local superheroes. Word Count: 605

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Title: Space Cowboys Collaborator: thewaythatwerust Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U4 - NASA Ship: Stucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: gifset Summary: Steve + Bucky in space. What could possibly go wrong? 

[strikecommanding]

Home

a fluffy 3k comm with mccree and a fem reader :3 no smut in this one, but it is still yandere (kidnapping, stockholm syndrome)

also on ao3

---

There was a very thin overlap of McCree’s and Ashe’s ambitions. At first, before the Deadlock Gang really came to fruition, the two of them typically saw eye to eye. Their reasons may have been different, but they worked towards the common goal of seizing wealth and power. McCree would say that the latter was more of Ashe’s thing; she’d already had a taste of wealth as her birthright, but she wasn’t interested in the type of power that came with it. It did nothing for her violent appetites, which was why she left it behind for the life of an outlaw.

In spite of the few similarities that tethered them together, there eventually came a time when the two Deadlock founders no longer meshed. Ashe wanted more infamy, more notoriety. McCree, too, enjoyed the freedom afforded to their gang by the public’s fear, but he didn’t want to make a name for himself in crime. That wasn’t to say he’d been struck by a sudden desire for justice, however. He craved the simpler things, like the ability to stroll around town without having to worry about being shot at by rival gang members or apprehended by the cops. As Deadlock grew, the more shallow its ‘freedom’ became. He’d become a prisoner of his own reputation, the very thing that was supposed to make him free.

So he decided one day that he wanted out. Predictably, Ashe didn’t take too kindly to his abrupt exit, not only because he was a true asset (whether she was willing to admit it or not) but because she couldn’t afford him out there with everything he knew. If there was anything that could get her to rally all the rival gangs in the area together, it was the opportunity to punish betrayal.

She may have had numbers, but she couldn’t find a gunslinger better than him for miles. McCree was quick on his feet and even quicker to the draw. No matter how many goons she sicced on him in a firefight, no matter how big their guns were, he managed to come out on top. But he certainly didn’t get out unscathed.

McCree was certain that Ashe had come at him with killing intent. Whether the fact that he was still alive was an error on her part or his own luck, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had lost enough blood to warrant a hospital visit. He ran from the scene until he had to slow to a walk, and he walked until his bullet-riddled legs finally gave out on him. Then, he crawled.

His eyelids were getting heavy and his tattered hat did nothing to protect him from the brutal sun beating overhead. He didn’t know where he was when his body finally stopped moving forward. The only thing he knew for sure was that the ground beneath him was blazing, yet his body was worryingly cold. As he blearily looked back at the trail of blood he’d left behind, he was sure his time was up.

---

McCree’s eyelids were heavy still, even when he tried to open them. The bright, white view he got glimpses of between blinking was consistent with his belief that he was dead, but inconsistent with where he believed he should have ended up. A man like him had too much blood on his hands to get into heaven.

Soft auditory signals roused him a bit more forcefully into consciousness: the shuffling of feet, low voices speaking to each other, and a steady beeping sound to his left. He could hear a woman’s voice to his right and instinctively turned that way.

When he finally opened his eyes, he thought he had to be in heaven. That was the only explanation for the angel standing before him. Even with your lips twisted into a distasteful frown you were a sight for sore eyes, and just about his entire body was sore.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him quietly, and your flat tone made the question sound more clinical than caring.

He regarded you with a blank stare before turning his attention to his limp body, which was now dressed in a hospital gown rather than his dirty, bloodied clothes. Bandages seemed to be wrapped around him from head to toe, but the one unconcealed part was the Deadlock tattoo on his left forearm. It was futile to try hiding it now since you were likely the nurse who’d cleaned and dressed his wounds, but he sank his arm beneath the thin bed sheets anyway. Looking back at you, he offered, “I’ve had better days.”

You weren’t looking at him, but at his arm underneath his blanket. Your lips were pursed in a tight line before you split them open to say, “I don’t know where you started from, but it seems like you made it far. Crawled on your stomach like an insect with its legs torn off. I found you just short of the parking lot here.”

McCree shifted uncomfortably beneath your piercing gaze before deciding against moving, as it exacerbated his injuries. He chose to lie stiffly in bed and asked, “Well what stopped you from leaving me there?”

You scoffed. “That’d be kind of counterproductive to what I do for a living.”

“But you saw my tattoo. And no doubt you’ve seen my devilishly handsome mug on ‘wanted’ posters all over town,” he pointed out, and he didn’t miss the way you abruptly turned your head away from his arm once he’d called you out. “Even better than leaving me for the buzzards, why didn’t you sicc the real scavengers on me and call the cops? Would’ve netted you a pretty profit.”

“I’ve got enough on my hands. You think I want to do their job too?”

Your sassy answer genuinely surprised McCree to the point that he fell silent. Then, his dry lips cracked open to give an even drier chuckle. He laughed until his chest hurt, which didn’t take long considering the state he was in. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t, sugar.”

He thought he saw some small, indiscernible reaction on your face in response to the little pet name, but you said nothing of it. Instead you got right down to business and said, “Look. My staff and I don’t want trouble and I’m sure you don’t either. You’re alive because of me so how about you repay your debt by getting out of here as soon as you’ve recovered, and never returning to this hospital again?”

McCree considered your proposal in light of his situation. First of all, between his injuries and all the drugs that had been pumped into him as treatment, he probably couldn’t get out of bed even if he wanted to. Then he considered the possibility that Ashe and the others might come looking for him. He may have gotten away but he was as good as dead when they’d last seen him, so he hoped they believed it to be true. Ashe’s fatal flaw was her arrogance and he was sure she would be too cocky to make sure the job was actually finished. Still, he wouldn’t let himself get comfortable. He would leave as soon as he was able to and then skip town. Grinning through the pain, he lifted his battered right arm to offer you a handshake. “Sounds like a deal.”

You stared at him for a brief spell before taking his hand, and he wrapped his fingers around yours to really get a feel for you. He thought your hands would be softer, but it made sense that you would develop calluses and roughness in this line of work. Your hands were hardened from saving lives, and his by taking lives away. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you stood and turned on your heel, apparently ready to leave. But first you paused and glanced at him over your shoulder. “Get some rest.”

McCree waited until you were really leaving to let a wolfish grin slide onto his face. He watched your rear as you went, even repositioning himself through the pain to get a better view, and he wondered how bad it could be to get a little comfortable with you.

---

McCree liked you. He had a feeling you were a real sweetheart underneath all that grit, but he’d be lying if he said that all your rough edges didn’t have a hand in his attraction towards you. He liked his women the same way he liked his liquor: with just a bit of bite, and your jaws were always snapping whenever you were around him.

It was a rocky start. You were a very professional woman who didn’t hesitate to let him know exactly how you felt about his attempts at flirting. When you weren’t busy chewing him out for his inappropriate behavior, you ignored him. You gave him food, clean bandages, everything he needed except the time of day.

But McCree was confident he could wear you down, get you to lower your walls. He had plenty of time, after all; his injuries were extensive enough to keep him in bed for a while, and you took his treatment upon yourself because you didn’t want to trouble the rest of your staff. You were so selfless and doting that he thought he wouldn’t mind having you by his side even once it was time for him to leave. Of course, that was just a pipe dream. And then there was an incident that made him think it wasn’t so impossible, nor was it a bad idea.

At some point well into his stay, McCree had finally managed to worm his way under your skin and make a place for himself in your heart. He liked to think so, at least, based on the fond smiles you started flashing him and the warmth that would sometimes creep onto your face when you looked at him. Genuinely, you seemed to like him.

As soon as he felt well enough to walk around, he was always out of bed looking for you. You couldn’t spend all your time with him, after all, but he wanted to monopolize you. It was on one of these trips that he stumbled upon you in a separate wing of the hospital, talking and laughing with a male colleague who stood far too close to you for comfort. The look of adoration on his face as he watched you speak was something McCree didn’t take too kindly to either. He knew better than to make a scene so soon after just gaining your favor, so he quietly returned to his room without incident.

You interacted with him as you normally did after that, but it wasn’t enough to make McCree forget what he’d seen. No matter how sweet you were when you were with him, he was left thinking about what you were up to when he wasn’t around. He came to the conclusion that the only way to dispel that paranoia was to have you with him, always.

---

Predictably, you weren’t appreciative of being smuggled out of the hospital by an outlaw who was on the bad side of the law and of his own gang. McCree somehow managed to make it across state lines with you in tow, though you certainly hadn’t made it easy. You were adamant that he let you go or take you back to the hospital, but your demands fell on deaf ears. He was determined to make a new life with you, whether you were willing or not.

The Deadlock gang primarily dealt in New Mexico, but they’d had their fair share of dealings in a few bordering states. There was a safehouse he knew of in Texas that was no longer in use, so he figured it was the best place for him to set up shop. That, and he knew no one would be looking for you there.

There would be an adjustment period. He was ready for you to fight him with all your might, but he hoped you would eventually come to see things his way. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t have to lift a finger around the house. McCree intended to provide for you, take care of you; all he wanted in return was your presence next to him.

As it turned out, you weren’t the type of person who enjoyed sitting idly by and being pampered. When McCree returned from his mercenary work, you’d taken to patching up his injuries if ever things got a bit too dicey. It started when he asked you once, and you’d done it after some protests on your part, but then you continued doing it everyday as if it were a matter of course. McCree would tease you about it, ask if you’d finally taken a liking to him again, and you would adamantly reply that it wasn’t in your nature to let an injured man go untreated.

The day was just like any other. McCree went out to collect some bounties, came back a little bit worse for wear. Coming home to find you already waiting for him put a wide grin on his roughed up, slightly bruised face. It had taken some time, but he was glad you were finally past the phase of having to be locked up in your room whenever he went out.

“Honey, I’m home,” he drawled, smiling even more when he saw the corner of your frown tug just the tiniest bit upward. “What have you been up to while I was gone?”

“What is there to do when I’m trapped inside the house all day?” you retorted, vaguely gesturing to the plainly furnished home for emphasis. “When are you going to start letting me go out?”

“When you’ve earned it,” he said easily as he lifted a hand to ruffle the top of your head. You stepped aside resentfully, and without your weight there to support him he ended up stumbling slightly. He tried to play it off coolly but nothing escaped your eagle eyes.

You returned to his side and slung his arm over your shoulders as you guided him to sit at the kitchen table. There, you began fretting over him without even needing to be asked. You removed his hat and set it down before gently peeling his leather jacket off of him, mindful of any wounds he might have been trying to hide from you. “What is it this time? Were you shot at or did they kick your ass freehand?”

“Why’re you so sure I got beat? I came back with money, didn’t I?” McCree complained, a fond smile on his lips as he watched you zip around him like a worker bee. The feeling of your fingers brushing over tender wounds wiped that look off his face immediately, instead making way for a grimace. “All right, they kicked my ass, but I still won. I walked away a richer man.”

“More like stumbled, I’m sure,” you replied, stripping him of his shirt so you could examine the full extent of his injuries. The angry red marks and raised skin were all consistent with the scenario that he’d been cornered and beaten by a number of people. You left him briefly to get some ice as well as the first aid kit you’d demanded he start keeping around the house a few months back. “You sure you didn’t bite off more than you could chew with this one?”

“You won’t be asking me that once I have you chewing on some dinner,” he declared, and he angled himself differently so you could ice all the inflamed areas on his torso. Then, hoping to abandon all the witty sarcasm and shift the conversation towards a softer direction, he said, “I’m sorry you gotta fix me up every day, honey. But I’m your breadwinner, and this kinda work’s all I can do.”

You continued silently icing his bruises before they could develop, and he couldn’t see your reaction since you were standing behind him. Your voice came out neutral when you said, “It’s not like I’m annoyed having to take care of you like this… It’s more like… I’m scared of the day you won’t come back. If you end up getting shot at like when I first saw you, and I’m not there to find you…”

McCree sat there quietly, rolling his cigar between his teeth as he thought carefully about what you said. That could have gone one of two ways. If this conversation had taken place closer to the beginning, back when you were still resentful and defiant about this new life together with him, your only reason for worrying about him would have been your own self-interest. In this new life, he was the only one looking out for you. Back when you were still locked in your room all the time, he was the only one who even knew you were here. His absence would have spelled out all kinds of trouble for you.

But you didn’t seem to be thinking of it that way. Rather, you were speaking out of concern for him and not yourself. If the low, pensive tone of your voice weren’t a dead giveaway, then he got it from the way your fingertips were delicately trembling as they brushed over his shoulder.

Smiling gently to himself, he reached up to grab your hand and steady you. He felt you jump at the sudden contact but he quickly eased you into stillness. Looking over his shoulder with a charming twinkle in his eye, he assured you, “It’s real sweet of you to worry about me, but I promise I ain’t reckless like that. Not anymore, now that I’m living for the both of us.”

He thought he saw your cheeks redden at his remark before you abruptly pushed him away with your hand over his eyes. “Shut up. You’re still too reckless. Try to come home in one piece next time.”

McCree chuckled, holding onto your wrist and kissing the back of your hand when you didn’t immediately pull away. He said nothing of it, but he couldn’t help but notice that you’d called this measly little safehouse a home.

[sweetscentences]

Small Changes: Chapter 4

Can be read on AO3 here. I’m posting this update early because I wanted to get through the halfway point of this fic before life gets too hectic <3

Sengoku brought a stack of heavy medical books to his third meeting with Law. Two of them were impressively sized encyclopedias, while another was titled ‘Medical Oddities of the East and West Blues’, and the last was called ‘Traditional Remedies in Modern Times’. Law snatched them up immediately, ignoring Sengoku’s explanation that they were sitting unread in his study for months. 

Rosinante was certain he just bought them. The last title was the only one he could see appealing to Sengoku, but he hardly had the free time to read a book that size.

The sentiment was sweet.

“You know he can’t be bought, right?” Rosinante asked, lighting a cigarette and his sleeve. Sengoku put the fire out with a few practiced slaps before it could spread.

“I’m not a fool,” Sengoku huffed. His sharp eyes were fixed on Law as he flipped through the books. “I don’t expect his affection. I’m only hoping for tolerance.” 

Tolerance was a realistic goal, in Rosinante’s opinion. 

“You’re halfway there already.” 

Law had stopped looking at Sengoku like he wanted to rip him apart. Or at least he had when Sengoku was out of uniform. Any reminder of Sengoku’s position would snap him back to loathing. 

He hated the Fleet Admiral. He could stomach Rosinante’s father. 

It was a difficult balance for all of them, Rosinante knew. But they were trying. Rosinante for them, and them for Rosinante. It warmed Rosinante’s heart.

“Bringing Vergo down is going to be tricky,” Sengoku said.

Rosinante hummed. Took a deep drag from his cigarette. Pretended he didn’t notice Law stop reading to listen in. He was surprisingly subtle about it. Rosinante wasn’t sure if Sengoku noticed. It made him unreasonably proud. 

“You’ll need my testimony, won’t you?” Rosinante asked. He already knew the answer. It was obvious from the way Sengoku flinched. 

Rosinante nodded. He wouldn’t make Sengoku say it, not when he was so visibly stressed by the thought.

“He’ll try to drag the trial out as long as possible. Maybe implicate me too. Law will need to be under guard the whole time. I don’t want him brought into this.” 

Law tensed- the slightest hitching of his shoulders. Rosinante ignored it and settled on meeting Sengoku’s steely eyes. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette into the floral ashtray Makino set out for him. 

“I won’t let Vergo walk away from this.” 

Rosinante would kill him if he did.

Sengoku nodded. “I know.” 

He understood what Rosinante didn’t say, no matter how much he might deny it. 

Rosinante always tucked away the crueler parts of himself. The parts that reminded him of Doflamingo. He wasn’t as bad as his brother, he knew. But he wasn’t soft either. Not by anyone but Doflamingo’s standards. Sengoku chose not to see it sometimes, the same way that Rosinante did.

But there were reasons Rosinante made a good spy. Reasons he made a good sniper. Reasons he made a good pirate. 

Some awful part of him would always love his brother. 

He never loved Vergo. 

It would be easy to put a bullet between his eyes. 

Too easy, if Law’s life was on the line. 

Rosinante could picture it clearly. Could practically feel the smooth curve of a trigger beneath his finger. He tapped his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray again to distance himself from the thought, from the image.

“He’ll either get the firing squad or Impel Down,” Sengoku said, watching Rosinante carefully.

Impel Down was more likely. Rosinante’s lip curled. He took a long drag from his cigarette. Part of him wanted Vergo to bleed out. Another part of him wanted Vergo to rot slowly in the darkness. 

He supposed both could be arranged. After all, he still had a few contacts in Impel Down- Marine and criminal alike. Life was cheap there. It wouldn’t be too hard to hire an assassin. 

But that could wait.

“What do you think?” Rosinante asked Law. He didn’t startle like he’d been caught eavesdropping, and he didn’t pretend not to know what Rosinante was asking. 

“Impel Down is meant to be hell, right?” Law’s eyes were fixed on Rosinante, bright and cold. Somehow more hateful than they were when he first met Rosinante.

The world shaped Law into something that could be cruel, just like it did Rosinante. 

Just like it did Doflamingo. 

Rosinante nodded. Law’s lips twitched up into a sharp, amused smile. 

“He should rot,” he said simply, and turned his focus back to his book. It was opened to a diagram of a human heart. Law traced it with a careful finger. His shoulders lost some of their tension.

“We’ll push for Impel Down, then,” Rosinante told Sengoku. His cigarette had burnt down to almost nothing. He lit another.

Sengoku watched Rosinante and Law carefully. He agreed with a sigh, and took a sip of his tea. 

“Would an Admiral be enough of a guard?” he asked. 

He got a sense of Law over the past few days. He knew that his relation to Rosinante was the only reason Law would be in the same room as him. He understood that one Marine hovering over Law would be more palatable than twenty. But still…

“Depends on the Admiral.”

If Rosinante had any say in the matter, which he damn well did, Akainu wouldn’t get within a hundred feet of Law. He was an unapologetic and unrivaled bastard. His ideas of justice and righteousness would have Law out for blood in seconds. 

(Sometimes, they did for Rosinante too. He just had a reason to hide it. If he were ten years younger, he might throw that aside and attack Akainu when he had the impulse anyway.) 

“Aokiji owes me a favor,” Sengoku said. “But it’s a simple enough task that he might do it just to avoid the trial.” 

“He hasn’t changed much since becoming an Admiral?” Rosinante hadn’t seen him in a few years, certainly not after his promotion. 

Sengoku huffed an unfriendly laugh. “He has more authority to be lazy now.” 

Rosinante grinned. “Aokiji could work.” 

He was powerful. Easily strong enough to take on Doflamingo or his best. But he also wasn’t likely to bring up the Navy on his own. Unlikely to act like a Marine. Unlikely to be offended by Law’s hate. 

Aokiji could work. 

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Sengoku and Garp left at the end of the week, before dawn. Garp pulled Rosinante into a brief, crushing hug that forced all the air out of his lungs. After releasing Rosinante, Garp offered Law a handshake that was, predictably, refused. Then he started off into the woods to say goodbye to his grandsons. 

Luffy was the only one he brought around Sengoku intentionally. Sabo made two delightfully chaotic appearances, one of which ended with Garp’s pants catching on fire. Ace, on the other hand, was hidden and carefully spoken around. 

It was an impressive act of subtlety, from Garp. Sengoku might not have noticed what, exactly, was happening. Rosinante certainly did. 

He had a few ideas. None of them were good.

There was something eerily familiar about the cut of Ace’s grin. Something about the shape of his face, the ridge of his nose. Something about the fact that, according to Law, Ace thought his father was a demon. 

For all that they had been enemies, Garp and Gold Roger respected each other. Enough that Garp might grant any final wish Roger had. Enough that Garp might even lie to Sengoku, if it meant keeping that wish safe.

It was a messy situation, if that was the case.

“Garp really could handle that better,” Sengoku sighed, speaking Rosinante’s thoughts aloud and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Rosinante raised an eyebrow. Law glared up at Sengoku, but that wasn’t a noteworthy change in his expression. 

Sengoku sighed again. “I’m not going to ask what it is. It’s better if I don’t know.” 

“Plausible deniability,” Rosinante laughed. 

Sengoku’s lips twitched up. His expression softened and he reached up to pull Rosinante into a hug. Rosinante fell into it, resting his head on Sengoku’s and holding him close. 

“I’ll make arrangements immediately,” Sengoku promised, pulling back enough to meet Rosinante’s eyes. “We’ll do this right.” 

“We have to,” Rosinante said, reaching down to ruffle Law’s hat. His nose wrinkled and his lips curled up, but he didn’t slap Rosinante’s hand away when it rested on his head. All bark and minimal bite.

“It was good to meet you,” Sengoku told Law. He didn’t try to hug him or offer him a hand. He knew better, by now. 

Law looked torn between aggression and sincerity. 

“You could be worse.” 

It seemed he settled on both. 

Sengoku smiled. He’d grown used to, and maybe even fond of Law surprisingly quickly. Law had a sharp-edged charm, and Sengoku had a soft spot for children who lost everything but kept on living. Rosinante knew he inherited that from him.

“We won’t be here much longer,” Rosinante told Sengoku. 

Last night he pinned a map of each of the four Blues to a wall in his and Law’s room. The dart Law threw landed where neither of them wanted to go, but they were both too stubborn to throw it again. 

“Where are you headed next?” Sengoku asked. He understood the twitchiness, the unease, that gripped Rosinante in the past days. 

Sitting still too long meant death. 

“North Blue. Swallow Island,” Rosinante said, choking down his fear. Law pulled Rosinante’s hand off his head and squeezed it. Some of the anxiety sitting heavy in Rosinante’s chest uncoiled. Eased. 

Sengoku nodded. Rosinante pretended not to notice the tight, worried pull of his mouth. 

“Hiding under his nose. I’ll run an investigation on the Marines stationed there.” 

They both knew Rosinante would run his own, slightly less legal investigation. Neither of them mentioned it. He knew as well as Garp did there were things Sengoku shouldn’t be told. 

“Be safe,” Sengoku said, his voice rough as he pulled Rosinante down to press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes settled on Law. “Both of you.” 

“We’ll try,” Rosinante said, blinking away the stinging in his eyes.

It was the closest thing to a promise he could make. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rosinante and Law stayed in Foosha another week, until Law was well enough to travel and the need to move was eating Rosinante alive. The mayor and Makino came to see them off, along with Garp’s grandsons. Rosinante was glad for that. It meant he could pull Ace aside as Luffy held everyone else’s attention. 

Everyone but Law, who kept half his focus on Rosinante, and half on Luffy’s story. 

Ace looked at Rosinante suspiciously when he invited him over, but he sat next to Rosinante on the dock without complaint. 

What Rosinante saw of his wild, self-loathing temper reminded him of Law. A younger, less homicidal Law, but the sentiment remained. He didn’t know what it was about caustic, hate-filled children that made his protective instinct flare up so much. 

(He could figure it out easily, if he wanted to. But he really, really, didn’t.)

“My brother is a monster,” Rosinante told him, and Ace’s eyes snapped up to his. “Truly a monster. He killed our father when he was around your age. Shot him and cut off his head. Now he’s the reason Law and I are on the run.” 

His father’s death was one of Rosinante’s earliest memories. One of his most vivid memories. The smell of the gunpowder. The smell of the blood. The sound of the body hitting the ground, still, lifeless-

Rosinante took a sharp breath. 

“Our father was the kindest man I knew.” 

Rosinante wished he was more like his father. As generous, as forgiving as he had been. As gentle as his romanticized memory made him out to be. 

Death had a way of making men into saints. 

“But Doffy still became what he is. I still… I still became what I am.”

Rosinante found violence disturbingly palatable. He accepted it as a part of life when he was far too young. The careful way Sengoku raised him didn’t change that. 

Once, when Rosinante was still a recruit, a ship he was on was attacked by pirates. He and the three other trainees were forced into the battle. Forced to fight and kill for their lives. The other recruits spent the days after sick with grief and guilt. But the only thing that bothered Rosinante was the fact that the ship’s seasoned Marines kept asking if he was alright. He killed four men, and lost no sleep over it. Not even once in the decade since.

Ace’s brows pinched in a frown. “But you’re really nice,” he said. 

Rosinante forced a grin. “Maybe I am. But I am not my father. No one is.” 

Ace ducked his head. Rosinante gently ruffled his hair. It was the same rich black as Law’s but thinner, softer. 

“Everyone deserves the life they’ve been given, and the freedom to make it what they want.” Rosinante waited until Ace met his eyes to go on. “You chose your brothers. I chose my father, chose my son. There’s more to a family, more to a person, than blood.” 

Ace’s head dropped down again as he scrubbed at his eyes. Rosinante didn’t push him, only ruffled his hair again before walking back to Law. 

“What did you say to make him cry?” Law asked, his voice sharp and teasing. Rosinante lightly cuffed the back of his head, and ignored his furious hiss. 

“Thank you for everything,” Rosinante told the mayor and Makino, who watched the whole exchange wearing matching grins. 

“A friend of Garp is a friend of ours,” the mayor said, holding out a hand for Rosinante to shake.

“You’re always welcome here,” Makino promised, stealing a quick hug from Rosinante before offering Law her hand. 

It pulled his attention from where he was watching Sabo and Luffy dogpile onto Ace. 

He took Makino’s hand and shook it carefully. Rosinante couldn’t bite down his grin if he tried. 

After a few more goodbyes, he and Law boarded a ship set for the edge of East Blue. They perched at the rail as the ship drifted out of the harbor, waving to the group at the end of the dock. 

“Say ‘hi’ to Gramps for us!” Luffy cried from his perch on Ace’s shoulders, his arm bending unnaturally as he waved. “Torao! Go fuck yourself!” 

Rosinante choked. He turned to glare down at Law, only to be startled when a loud laugh burst out of him. 

Law doubled over, winding an arm around his stomach. His eyes crinkled so tightly at the corners they almost shut. A smile Rosinante had never seen before stretched across his face. 

The admonishment died on Rosinante’s tongue. Warmth bloomed in his chest. 

A few Northern swears weren’t so bad, really. Not if it meant Law would smile like that. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trip to Swallow Island was long, but bearable. When they crossed into North Blue, Law spent most of his time on the ship’s deck, breathing in the cold air with clear lungs. It was an incredible feeling- the cold in his mouth, his throat, his chest. 

It was biting and so, so familiar. It had been years since Law was able to breathe so clearly. He got used to choking on every breath. Got used to the heavy, burning feeling in his chest that grew every day. 

Breathing without it was difficult to adjust to. He kept waking up and thinking, for a horrible moment, that curing himself was a dream. Standing on the deck, feeling the sting of the frozen air, it helped Law remember that it was real. If he was still sick, he wouldn’t be able to imagine that feeling. 

He didn’t need to explain it to Cora. He was good at understanding that kind of thing. Good at reading Law. 

He took to joining him on the deck, sitting next to Law with his back against the rail. 

The sun was long since set. Law’s dreams the night before were unusually awful. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, so instead he leaned against the rail, his chin propped up by his hands. 

Cora didn’t ask anything, didn’t try to drag Law to bed. Instead he settled next to him, warm by Law’s side, and tipped his head back on the rail to watch the stars. 

They shone so brightly in the Northern sky. 

The familiar feeling of silence brushed across Law. Before he could ask why, Cora spoke. 

“Celestial Dragons come of age when they’re fifteen years old,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble. 

Cora coming from a family of nobles was still something Law struggled to wrap his head around. He wasn’t a coward like Flevance’s royal family was. He didn’t see himself as a god, like Doflamingo did. He was only a man. A good man, maybe, but a man nonetheless. 

A human being, like Law. Fallible, flawed, and wonderful. 

Cold wind rushed across the ship. It filled Law’s nose, his mouth, with the smell and taste of salt water. He breathed deeply, trying to hold onto it, and shuffled closer to Cora. 

“There’s a special celebration. They call it a ‘saint ceremony’. I went to my cousin’s.” 

Cora had a strange look on his face, something between wistful and pained. Law turned and sat down, pressing himself against Cora’s side and letting him wrap an arm around him. Cora was a tactile person. It was no secret that he craved touch. That he wanted to hold and be held. Law would offer him that comfort, when he could. It was the least he could do.

He would never admit that it was a comfort to him too.

“At the ceremony, a star is dedicated to you.” 

Cora pointed up, and Law followed the long line of his arm to a very familiar pair of stars. The star on the right was bold and bright. The left had the same brilliant glow, but was difficult to see when looked at dead on. One had to look to the left of it, to catch it in the corner of their eye to truly see it. 

“My mother said that the star on the right would be for my brother, and the star on the left would be for me.” 

It suited them. Cora was just as bright, as brilliant, as Doflamingo. But he was difficult to pin down. To understand. To see. 

But Law knew the trick to seeing that star. He was learning the tricks to see Cora too.

“We called them the bells, on Flevance,” Law said, resting his head against Cora. “The left one always pointed South East. I’d follow it home from the hospital with my father.” 

It was a fond, fading memory. The long hours looking over his father’s shoulder, watching him work. The way his father would wind his own scarf around Law’s neck before they stepped outside. The two of them walking home through a world of white- snow and buildings blending together, glittering as brightly as the night sky. The warmth of his father’s hand around his, his other hand pointing up to the left bell, laughing and telling him to look, Law, look.

Was his laugh warm, or was it sharp like Law’s?

“I can’t remember his voice,” Law whispered, and Cora pulled him closer. 

His father’s voice, the finer details of his face, they were fading. His mother and Lami’s too. The sounds of their laughs. The little songs Lami sang to herself as she went about her day. The way his parents slow-danced together in the living room, after long nights spent apart. The way they dragged Law and Lami into joining, once they were caught out of bed. The old prayers his mother whispered as she combed through Law and Lami’s hair. How Lami’s hand felt when it curled around Law’s. 

All of it gone. All of it stolen. All of it burnt away.

Last night Law dreamt of them- their faces blank and white, their voices gravelly and garbled. Their hands reaching for Law. Grabbing him, tugging at his clothes. Dragging him forward as a fire started at their feet and grew to swallow them. Grew to swallow Law with them.

Law shuddered. He pressed his face against Cora’s chest and tried to breathe, tried to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. 

The smell of death crept into his nose. Crept into his throat. 

Death and fire, cloying and thick.

The smell of sickness. The smell of burning flesh.

Law choked on it.

He thought he heard a voice, but it was drowned out by the pounding of his heart and the ringing in his ears. His throat was closing up. A hand rubbed slow circles onto Law’s back. Something against him rose and fell slowly. Law forced himself to match his gasping breath to the feeling, digging his nails so sharply into his palms they drew blood. 

The pain was real. The smell wasn’t. 

The only real smells were cold air and stale cigarette smoke. 

Law’s heart slowed. He breathed. 

He was in Cora’s lap, pulled up to lean against Cora’s chest. Some part of Law wanted to rip himself away from Cora, to snarl that he wasn’t a child, that he didn’t need to be coddled, and go hole himself up in some corner of the ship where Cora wouldn’t see him break down. But Cora was warm, and safe, and humming a low, smooth melody. Law’s head was foggy with fear and exhaustion. 

Cora was safe, carefully taking Law’s hands and cleaning the blood from them with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. 

“Think they’ll need stitches, doc?” Cora asked, his fingers gentle as they brushed the cuts. 

Law huffed, the sound more amused than annoyed. “Don’t be stupid.” 

Cora didn’t say anything about the way Law’s voice wavered. Instead he grinned down at Law, bright and silly. Law tucked his head back against Cora’s chest so he wouldn’t see him smile back.

When Cora let go of Law’s hands, he wound them into Cora’s shirt. He didn’t protest, didn’t warn Law against getting blood on his clothes. Didn’t say anything about the way Law’s hands were shaking.

“It’s a good star for you,” Law said, and Cora’s chest rumbled with his hum. 

“When do people come of age on Flevance?” 

Law grounded himself with the sound of Cora’s voice. Deep and calm. Alive and steady.

“Sixteen,” Law told him. “If you weren’t studying medicine you’d pick an apprenticeship. If you were, you’d graduate from the medical school and choose a mentor.” 

Law’s parents fought, teasingly, over which one of them would get Law. They had both known he’d pick his father, if only because surgery caught his interest more than anything else. 

“You started young then, if you’d be done school at sixteen.”

Law nodded, let his eyes fall closed. Let himself relax into the warmth of Cora’s hold. 

“Eight years old.” 

Two years before his world fell apart. 

Law ignored that thought. He focused on the sound of Cora’s heartbeat. A heavy lullaby. 

“We should do something special for your sixteenth birthday, then,” Cora said. 

Law liked that idea. Liked the thought of Cora still being there in two years. 

“Do I get a star?” Law asked, his teasing tone swallowed by a yawn. 

Cora laughed. “If you want one.” 

His heartbeat was a steady sound. Proof that he was alive. Proof that Law saved him. Proof that they both got to live. 

Law remembered something then. The blood in Lami’s hands didn’t circulate properly. They were always cold when she held Law’s.

He drifted off without realizing it. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They settled onto Swallow Island quickly; Rosinante buying a small cottage at the edge of the port town with the money Sengoku gave him. Within two weeks the cottage started to feel like a home. Never more so than when Rosinante and Law sat in front of the fireplace, watching the evening snowfall and carefully figuring out Law’s Devil Fruit. 

It had a strange, unnerving quality to it, but Law was a quick learner. The notebook he was working in was filling up faster than Rosinante expected. 

Rosinante spent the days investigating the island’s Marines. There was only one small base on the island, settled at the heart of the port town. Rosinante hadn’t found anything dangerous yet- only three men with gambling problems and one woman who bought her wife flowers every day. Both habits swallowed an impressive amount of money. 

Law spent the days doing god knew what. Rosinante was fairly sure he was exploring the island. He didn’t stop Law, only made sure he still had the knife Rosinante gave him. 

When Rosinante was seventeen, he found a small collection of parenting books in the back of Sengoku’s study. He flipped through some of them, hoping to find something to tease Sengoku about, only to see careful notes scribbled in the margins of each one. It was too endearing for Rosinante to mock, and he put the books back. Luckily, no one was there to see him shed a few tears over it. He remembered one of the books mentioned allowing your child to have the freedom they needed. He had the feeling Law needed more freedom than most.

Rosinante realized he should have asked what, exactly, Law was getting up to when he brought a polar bear cub home. 

Rosinante was sitting in the front room, drinking tea while reading letters and reports from Sengoku, when Law damn near kicked the front door open. The bear was draped half over his small shoulders, shuffling on its hind feet. 

It took Rosinante a moment to recover from the strange sight. It took him a moment longer to realize that the high-pitched voice apologizing over and over in Grand was the bear and not Law adopting a weird accent. 

Rosinante took another sip of his tea. Not a bear cub, then, but a mink. 

The mink was covered in various scrapes and bruises, red staining its white fur. Law’s knuckles were bloodied. 

Law didn’t acknowledge Rosinante, dragging the mink over to the couch and pushing it down. Then Law disappeared under the couch, reappearing a moment later with a first aid kit. It was one of four scattered around the small cottage. There was so little that Law called his own in the last few years, so Rosinante might have been spoiling him a bit to make up for it. Medical supplies seemed to be Law’s favorite thing to collect. Medical supplies and strange coins. Law was a little magpie when it came to hoarding coins. It was downright cute, even if Law threatened to cut off the tips of Rosinante’s fingers the last time he poked at his collection.

It wasn’t like he was going to follow through on the threat. Even if he did, he would reattach Rosinante’s fingertips before too long. It was a neat trick Law learned with his Devil Fruit. Rosinante hoped he wouldn’t take it any further, but knowing Law he absolutely would.

Law cleaned and neatly wrapped his bloody knuckles with a practiced ease. The mink shot Rosinante worried looks as Law set about treating its wounds. 

Rosinante took another sip of his tea, carefully closing the folder he was flipping through.

Sengoku would send someone to bring Rosinante to the trial soon. Would send Aokiji to protect Law. But Rosinante could think more about that another time.

“Law,” he called. “Did you beat up this poor mink?”

The mink made an anxious noise, attention snapping back and forth from Rosinante to Law as Law tied off a bandage on its arm. 

“I didn’t beat him up,” Law hummed, grabbing one of the mink’s paws to pluck something out of it with a pair of tweezers. 

The emphasis wasn’t lost on Rosinante. He raised an eyebrow. 

The mink whined, pained and sharp, as Law succeeded in pulling out what he was looking for. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he cried, ducking his head down and covering it with his free paw. 

Protecting himself. Hiding. 

“Don’t apologize,” Law snapped. “It would’ve hurt more if I was slow,” he said, bandaging the paw in his hand and ignoring, or not noticing, how the mink flinched away from him. 

“Law, I think you’re scaring him,” Rosinante told him. Law tied off the last bandage and sighed. The second he released the paw, it joined the other in covering the mink’s head. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Law said. His voice didn’t sound particularly soothing, but it was enough to have the mink uncurling some. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Bepo.” 

The mink’s arms dropped from his head. He stared at Law, silent and wide eyed, for so long that Law started scratching at his arm in discomfort. 

“You did say your name was Bepo, right?” Law asked, his cheeks darkening. 

“You remembered?” 

Law looked offended. “Of course I did,” he hissed. This time, Bepo didn’t flinch away from the sharp tone. 

Instead he started blubbering, dragging Law into what was probably an extremely fluffy hug. He rubbed his face against Law’s shoulder as Law squawked, flailed, and tried futilely to escape the hug. After a while he gave up, wrapping one arm around Bepo’s shoulders and awkwardly patting his head with his free hand. 

Rosinante wished he had a camera with him. This was probably the cutest thing he had ever seen. 

Law’s eyes turned to Rosinante, to the grin on his face. His expression sharpened into something venomous. His teeth bared. Rosinante took a sip of his tea to hide his smile, trying not to laugh. Law was scratching Bepo’s ears, seemingly without realizing it. 

After a few minutes, Bepo calmed down enough for Law to slip from his hold. He sat on the couch next to him, and Rosinante joined them, setting his mug on the table. 

“Not that you’re in trouble, but would you mind explaining what happened here?” Rosinante asked, carefully taking Law’s hands to check his bandages. 

They were perfectly wrapped, as Law’s always were, but Rosinante still liked to make sure of it. 

Rosinante worried about Law more than he would ever say, would ever show. Law had no patience for coddling, he would think Rosinante considered him weak. Rosinante knew damn well how strong Law was. That was half the reason he worried as much as he did. Checking Law’s bandages was one of the few ways he indulged that worry. One of the few things Law allowed as well.

“I was coming back from Wolf’s when I found Bepo getting beaten up. I brought him back here because I didn’t have anything to help on hand,” Law said, taking back his hands when Rosinante let them go. 

Rosinante had a few questions. 

No, he had many. So many he wasn’t sure where to start. 

He settled on asking, “who’s Wolf?”

That seemed to be the most important thing to know. 

“Some weird old man who lives up the mountain,” Law shrugged. “He’s been letting me see his experiments.”

Rosinante had more questions. He wound his fingers together and rested his hands in front of his mouth. He took a grounding breath. 

“Law,” he started. “Do you understand why that’s a concerning sentence?” 

Law looked up at him, confusion and irritation warring on his face. Rosinante bit his lip. 

“Not weird like that,” Law hissed, before shrugging. “Besides, he’s old. It’s not like I can’t handle myself.” 

“I am not encouraging you to commit murder.” 

Part of Rosinante couldn’t believe he just said that. Another part of him was surprised he never said that before. Bepo made a worried noise. Law’s glare sharpened. 

“I never said anything about killing him,” he huffed. 

Rosinante didn’t think he had any right to be so offended. Even if he mellowed out considerably, murder was still a perfectly valid concern when it came to Law. Rosinante loved him, but that love didn’t mean he was delusional. 

“Will you take me with you the next time you go to see Wolf? I’d like to meet him,” Rosinante said. Law’s sharp expression softened with understanding. 

“Sure,” he said, quickly killing any sentiment in the moment by stealing Rosinante’s tea. The mug looked like a bowl cradled in Law’s hands. It was endearing enough for Rosinante to forgive the theft. 

He also forgave it because it meant Law might have an appetite that day. His eating habits were unpredictable at best. Some days he was ravenous. Other days he could barely stomach simple broths. Rosinante would take any chance to get something in Law’s stomach, even if that meant giving up a cup of his favorite tea. He could always make another.

“Back to Bepo, then,” Rosinante hummed, offering the mink his most reassuring smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Bepo nodded frantically, wringing his paws. “You too, mister, um-”

“Cora,” Law said, looking up from the tea. “I call him Cora.” 

“Mister Cora, then,” Bepo smiled. At least, Rosinante thought he smiled. His teeth were worryingly sharp.  

“You don’t need to be so formal,” Rosinante promised. “You can just call me Cora, or Rosinante. Any friend of Law’s is a friend of mine.” 

Bepo looked a bit overwhelmed, his black eyes wide and shining. He didn’t seem to know what to do with kindness. It was as heartbreaking as it was surprising. Rosinante wouldn’t have expected Law to have the patience or gentleness for a personality like Bepo’s.

Not that Law was behaving gently by anyone’s standards but his own. 

“You’re a mink, right?” Rosinante asked. “How did you get here? We’re a long way from the New World.” 

Bepo curled in on himself again. “I fell off Zunesha’s leg,” he mumbled. He sounded near tears. His sniffed loudly, his black button nose twitching. “I got lost. It’s mean here. Everyone wants to hurt me.” 

Rosinante’s mouth went dry. Law glared up at him before, shockingly, leaning against Bepo’s side. 

“Why didn’t you fight back?” Law asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’ve got claws. And teeth. It’s not like they were strong.”

He had to be talking about whatever fight he pulled Bepo from. Rosinante hoped whoever was involved hadn’t been killed. Or maimed. Really, Rosinante just hoped they were able to walk away in the end.

Bepo drew his legs up to his chest, tucking his head against them. “Zepo said humans break easily. That I have to be careful if I meet them.” 

Law knocked back the rest of Rosinante’s tea, dropping the mug on the table and glaring at Bepo. It seemed his patience had run out. 

“You don’t have to be careful if someone’s hurting you,” he snarled. “Do you want to die?” 

Bepo uncurled enough to stare at Law. “No,” he whined. “I don’t.”

“Then don’t let yourself be killed. Fight. Back.” Law’s teeth were bared, his chest heaving, his hands curled into fists. “You can’t expect anybody to save you. If you want to live, then fight for it.” 

Rosinante set a hand on Law’s back. He didn’t shrug it off. He uncurled his shaking hands, breathing slowly and carefully. Bepo stared at him, slack jawed, his black eyes shining. 

“Are you alright?” Rosinante asked. After a moment, Law nodded. “You like this bear, don’t you?” 

He waited for Law to nod again before turning to Bepo. There weren’t many people Law liked. If he’d gotten attached to Bepo this quickly… 

“You’re welcome to stay with us, if you have nowhere else to go,” Rosinante offered, meeting Bepo’s wide eyes. “No one will hurt you here.” 

A moment later, Rosinante had a lapful of sobbing polar bear mink. Law shot him a smug look, which was quickly wiped off his face when Rosinante grabbed him and hauled him into the hug. He protested, loudly, but he didn’t try to pull away. 

After all, Bepo was incredibly fluffy.

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Very beautiful your written. Part 3 would be good for Smugglers, showing after marriage. I wonder how Charlie would rule knowing that he will be a father. (How about they are twins)

This is part 3 of the Smugglers series!

I want to write a separate one for their wedding so if you guys want to see that, please let me know! Oh and if you want to see a separate thing for their honeymoon let me know as well. Also, I’m really bad at coming up with titles LOL

C/ O/Cmeans Color of choice bc the whole “favorite color” thing is so eh to me sometimes, lol.

There is some jumping back and forth, but everything in 1996-1997 takes place during the events of The Half-Blood Prince with some flashbacks to the Triwizard Tournament in 1995

Smugglers (Part 1)

Together (Part 2)

Title: Delivery 

Somewhere in England. November 1996.

Charlie Weasley, renowned Dragonologist, doting a husband, and father to be had been married to master curse-breaker, (Y/N) Weasley for almost two years. After their engagement at the 1994 Quidditch World Cup, the pair quickly worked on the arrangements for their wedding which took place on January 5th, 1995 during the holiday break. It was an extravagant affair with guests from all over Europe and a wonderful time to catch up with their school friends before traveling once again.

With best wishes from their friends and relatives, the Newlyweds traveled to Paris for sight-seeing and, of course, to scout for magical creatures. Charlie was ecstatic to see the types of creatures native to France, but the sight of you engulfed by moonlight at the top of the Effiel Tower was the most breathtaking of all. It was rather cold in France and (Y/N) often found herself nestled in Charlie’s arms after a long day of walking, the warthm radiating off his body providing more comfort than the silky hotel sheets. Although they were far from home, they received letters from their families and The Order of the Phoenix.

Professor Trelawney had predicted the return on the Dark Lord and she stated it would be soon. Dumbledore called the Order into business again, preparing for the incoming threat, and repeating how it was absolutely essential Harry Potter did not come in contact with any Death Eaters.

After their lovely trip, the pair returned to The Burrow and began the search for a home they could call their own. Their search, however, did not take up very much of their time. Jacob, (Y/N)’s older brother arrived unexpectedly at the Weasley home, positively beaming at his younger sister when he announced he had found the perfect home for them. Much like Grimmauld Place, the home he proposed was safeguarded from any danger, but a home where a young couple could start a family when they saw fit.

Jacob Selwyn traveled the globe as well, accompanied by Angelica Cole and Felix Rosier. The three met at the wedding reception and hit it off right away, immediately departing to break curses in the United States. Their adventures kept them rather busy so he did not write often, but on the occasions his Great Grey Owl swooped into their home, (Y/N) could not help but tear the envelope apart. His success in another country had granted him a large fortune, one he used to repay his younger sister for all the trouble she went through while at Hogwarts. With this large sum of money, he contracted some Scottish wizards to build a home near the riverside and spared no expense to make sure they were comfortable. Charlie and (Y/N) were over the moon when Jacob mentioned the house and even though they felt bad for receiving such a large gift, Jacob insisted.

“Jacob, seriously,” pleaded (Y/N) for the fourth time that evening, reaching into the velvet sack that kept their savings, “At least take a couple of galleons.” She insisted, holding the golden coins out towards her brother, who kept shoving her hands away.

“I said no, baby-sis,” Jacob chuckled, slidding away from (Y/N) as she attempted to force the coins into his palms, “I’m not taking any of your money so you better just put it away.”

(Y/N) frowned as they stood alone in the Weasley kitchen, “You didn’t have to blow all your money on us! You’ve got your own responsibilities-”

“(Y/N), listen!” Jacob interjected, gripping her shoulders tightly, “I had to do this for you. All those years you spent at Hogwarts... tormented by other students because of what I did,” He began, his voice wavering slightly when his eyes met hers, “It wasn’t fair to you... this is the least I can do...”

(Y/N) bit her lip, she had never heard her brother speak like this to her, but she knew it was something he had bottled up for years, “Jacob, I-”

“Please,” implored Jacob solemnly, “Let me do this for you and Charlie.” A strangled sob slid past her lips as she flung herself into Jacob’s arms, tightly embracing him after many months of not seeing him.

After that, it did not take much convincing for the couple to settle into their home. However, what Jacob described as a “decent” sized place seemed to differ from Charlie and (Y/N)’s perspective. The three of them apparated onto a seemingly empty patch of greenery, the large trees obscuring the well-constructed house from view.

As they stepped through the trees, the large house came into view and (Y/N) felt her jaw drop immediately. It was a two story home with five, well-decorated bedrooms and four bathrooms split between the two floors. The kitchen was made out of the finest white marble, complete with an island and a granite fireplace separating the kitchen from the sitting room. Down the hall from the sitting room stood a home office and a stairwell that led towards a vast basement, filled with shelves containing various magical artifacts (Y/N) had collected as a Curse-Breaker.

“I can’t believe this,” uttered (Y/N) as she unpacked the box of kitchenware with Charlie, “We’re almost done unpacking and the house still seems empty”

Charlie smiled, looking over his shoulder to glance at his wife, “Don’t worry, Darling,” he replied, stepping towards her and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I still have some money left over from the Triwizard Tournament, I can use it to buy anything you need~” He crooned, pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

1995

After settling in, they received an owl from Mr. Weasley, asking them to accompany them to the final task of the Triwizard Tournament along with his wife and Bill. Everyone was aware of Harry Potter’s mysterious entry in the Triwizard Tournament and although there were some people resenting him for it, The Weasleys and (Y/N) supported him all the way through (except for Ron at one point).

“Let’s go, Mrs. Charlie Weasley” Charlie chimed happily, taking a handful of Floo Powder from the designated jar as his wife excitedly stomped down the stairs. He stepped into the granite fireplace, a smile decorating his features when she entered the kitchen, quickly snatching her purse from their countertop.

“Be right there, Mr. Weasley” She announced, looking over the surroundings of their house, making sure she had grabbed everything. Quite some time had passed since they first moved in and she still wasn’t accustomed to the vastness of their home. Taking Charlie’s hand, he smiled and released the Floo powder, yelling out, “Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!”

The fireplace at Grimmauld Place lit up and the couple stepped out, greeted by Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Nymphadora Tonks. Normally, everyone would be frightened at the sight of Sirius, but after some explaining, it became clear that he was not the one who betrayed James Potter.

(Y/N) grinned, hugging her old friend tightly, “I swear, your hair changes every day now” she said and Tonks laughed, giving her shrug

“A change is always enjoyable” Tonks stated and slapped an unsuspecting Charlie on the arm, “You look the same, but I think you have a few more scars than I remember”

Charlie laughed and hugged Tonks, “I like them quite a lot, thank you very much” He admitted jokingly, “Shows I get the job done.”

“You’re ridiculous,” scoffed (Y/N), nudging Charlie’s shoulder as they settled at the dining room table. The five of them had dinner before departing for Hogwarts in order to attend the task on time.

The crowds were cheering, trumpets playing, there were a million banners each in support of one of the four contestants. Cedric Diggory greeted Mr. Weasley with a handshake and he did the same for Charlie and (Y/N) whom he had met earlier during the World Cup.

He politely excused himself and walked down to the area in front of the maze. Harry nervously walked in, waving at the Weasleys and as soon as his friends noticed his appearance, Seamus Finnigan blew an air-horn in support for his friend.

Bill scooted closer to his brother with a grin on his face, “I see the married life is treating ya well” He announced, glancing a the purple mark at the base of his neck, “Might want to hide that sucker next time though”

Charlie blushed, slapping his hand over the mark, “You’re always messing with me” He muttered, shooting his brother a joking glare and Bill wrapped an arm around him

“Cuz you make it so bloody easy” He stated and Charlie huffed, shrugging his arm off.

After an announcement from Dumbledore, the task had begun and the audience anxiously waited for the winner. But after what seemed over an hour, Harry Potter had apparated into the area and originally everyone cheered, including Charlie and (Y/N).

However, (Y/N) noticed something unsettling, Cedric Diggory laying beneath a sobbing Harry Potter, “Charlie,” She called worriedly, grabbing his hand tightly, “This isn’t right”

“He’s back!” Harry cried as they attempted to remove him of Cedric’s body, “He killed Cedric!”

Amos Diggory, who was standing next to Arthur, almost collapsed but managed to push through the crowd, yelling for his son.

“Oh, Merlin” Charlie whispered, pulling (Y/N)’s body close to his, “Bill, he’s back. We have to leave” He announced, but Bill couldn’t believe that someone had just been murdered by the Dark Lord, someone who is supposed to be long gone.

Bill snapped out of it and his instincts kicked in. Bill grabbed all his siblings who attended Hogwarts, Hermione, and anyone else he could begin moving them to the castle, despite some of their protests

“Hey! You just heard Harry!” Bill yelled as he ushered them back, “A boy has just been murdered! Get to your common rooms now!”

Groups of students resented Bill’s actions, not following orders for a man they didn’t even know. Bill grew inpatient as he moved more students towards the castle.

Fred and George noticed how serious their older brother was and began ushering the classmates as well

“Come on! Move it along!” Fred said, helping his friends get to the castle safely.

Quickly saying their goodbyes, Charlie grabbed (Y/N) and disapparated back to their home. Although some of the Order had met up with Dumbledore, Charlie’s first priority was making sure (Y/N) was safe.

Cedric’s murder was the beginning of a long battle.

Somewhere in England. November 1996.

Charlie had gone out to the market for groceries and (Y/N) had stayed back enjoying the early morning sun peeking through the blinds of their shared bedroom.

Everything seemed calm, despite all the troubles they had experienced. Cedric Diggory and Sirius Black had been murdered, Bellatrix Lestrange had escaped from Azkaban, Death Eaters had infiltrated the Ministry, and the Dark Lord was still at large.

But between the battles, tasks, and meetings, (Y/N) and Charlie still found time for themselves and their families. (Y/N)’s moment of tranquility was rudely interrupted by the sudden urge to vomit. Sprinting from her bed to the toilet, she hunched over and began throwing up.

Charlie, as punctual as ever, had arrived with groceries and walked upstairs to wake up his loving wife, but he instantly grew worried when he heard her in the bathroom. Running to her, he held her hair back and soothingly rubbed her back.

(Y/N) immediately knew what this meant, being reminded by the constant jokes from her friends stating she would fall pregnant soon, “Charlie” (Y/N) whispered with worry, “I think I’m pregnant”

Charlie looked at her in disbelief and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her in for a tight hug, “Merlin’s beard, (Y/N)!” He exclaimed, “We’re going to be parents!” He whispered, running his thumb over her cheek, “I’m excited to start a family with you, but these are dark times and we have to be safe, you have to be safe”

(Y/N) smiled and placed her hands on Charlie’s face, pressing a bittersweet kiss against his lips. Times were difficult, but as long as she had him, everything would be alright.

Somewhere in England. April 1997

“(Y/N)! Look what I brought!” Charlie exclaimed running up to his pregnant wife.

(Y/N) laughed as her very excited husband ran up with something that resembled a clock, “Isn’t that your mother’s?” She asked questioningly, but that made him grin even more

“We have one of our own now!” He flipped the clock, showing the two hands with Charlie’s moving picture and her own pointed towards “home”, “and when these two are born, we’ll add them in!”

(Y/N) laughed and pressed a kiss against Charlie’s cheek, “You’re adorable” she whispered and Charlie grabbed her happily

“That isn’t the only thing, my dad helped me make something else” He grinned and began pulling her to the room they decided would be the nursery, “You know how I’ve been off with him?” He asked and she nodded in response

“Well, it’s because we’ve been making these” He announced, opening the room door, showing the two wooden cribs with intricate carvings along the borders. Both cribs contained their family crests and carvings of magical creatures.

“Charlie!” She exclaimed, walking up to them, admiring them and feeling the soft mattress, “These are amazing!”

“I know” He replied smugly, a smirk spreading across his face making (Y/N) hit him playfully, “I’m glad you like them because that’s only a couple of the things I plan on getting”

The next few months were spent by Charlie and (Y/N) designing and painting their nursery walls. Although they weren’t sure their children would be wizards, one could only hope.

One of their nursery walls was fully covered with a scenic painting of Hogwarts castle. Resembling the Great Hall, the ceiling was enchanted to resemble the night sky and could be changed.

They added a light blue carpet to cover the wooden floor and a rocking chair and a beanbag in the corner of the room. Along with a dresser full of new clothing, diapers, the necessary baby caring supplies, and a chest full of non-magical and magical toys.

“Y'know” Tonks started as she rocked in the chair, watching (Y/N) paint, “If it’s a girl, you should name her after me” She grinned, picking up a paintbrush to help her friend.

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replied teasingly and Tonks faked her disbelief.

“Why not? I’m obviously the most responsible and honorable out of us” Tonks stated proudly, but obviously joking.

The two girls laughed as they painted away, “I don’t think Hogwarts would be too fond to have another Nymphadora running about” (Y/N) replied and Tonks gave a thoughtful nod.

“You’re absolutely right,” She stated, “Besides, the original is always better”

Even though they seemed well prepared, Charlie always brought home new items stating they were absolutely essential for their children.

Charlie wanted to make sure everything was taken care of before the arrival of their children.

Number 12 Grimmauld Place. June 30th, 1997.

(Y/N)’s and Charlie’s child, or should they say, children, were due in early July but that didn’t stop her from attending the Order meetings despite Charlie urging her to stay home.

Ben, Penny, and Rowan would make sure she was comfortable when Charlie wasn’t around. Barnaby and Merula set up more magical protection around the couple’s home, making it completely undetectable to enemies. Andre and Tulip cleaned up around the house, the places (Y/N) could reach anymore. Tonks always came around to make sure (Y/N) had a laugh and brought all sorts of snacks and tricks to keep her entertained.

They all had gathered at Grimmauld Place with Tonks, former Hogwarts Professor, Remus Lupin, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, formidable auror, Mad-Eye Moody, and as they all nervously awaited an owl from Hogwarts.

They had received intel from Dumbledore that something would happen at Hogwarts this night, but they were not allowed to come to the school. Dumbledore did not speak another word of this event only reminders that they should only show up in extreme circumstances.

In the early hours of the evening, an owl arrived with a letter. Moody quickly opened it and grimaced at the words, “The Dark Mark has appeared over Hogwarts, Dumbledore is no where to be found, it is believed Professor Snape murdered him.”

The group was overcome with emotion, (Y/N) almost collapsing, but Charlie ushered her to sit down. Molly Weasley began to cry, but Rowan and Penny reassured her everything would be alright. Ben looked like he was about to faint as he was leaning up against the wall.

Tonks hugged Lupin tightly, but was suddenly angered, “We have to go to Hogwarts!” She yelled, her hair turning a deep red.

“Can it, Nymphadora!” Moody shouted, obviously struck by the news of Dumbledore’s death, “We can’t barge in and attack! There are students in the castle!”

“We have to attack!” Tonks yelled, “and I told you to stop calling me Nymphadora!” Remus placed his hands on Tonks’s shoulders, rubbing them up and down.

“Dora” He whispered, “Please, calm down” he urged, “We’ll go to Hogwarts in a moment, but we need a plan.”

Tonks shoved Lupin’s hands of her and crossed her arms, crying out of frustration.

“Tonks,” Penny said smoothly, attempting to calm her down, “We can’t just attack, we need a plan”

“And we’ll have one” Kingsley announced, “Dumbledore knew this would happen, we have to call the rest of the Order, prepare everyone for a battle”

“You can count me out,” Charlie stated, getting up from his seat and helping his wife out, “If I go, (Y/N) will go and I can’t risk anything happening to her or my children”

(Y/N) shook her head, “Charles!” She yelled, “I’ll be fine, the children will be born soon!” She exclaimed, stepping out of Charlie’s grip, “We can’t let them go on their own!” She started, “We have to fight!”

Molly Weasley looked at her son, “Children?” She whispered, “I thought you were having one”

Charlie looked back at his mother and let out a small sigh, “We’re having twins” He replied and Molly Weasley placed a hand over her heart.

“Dear,” Molly started and walked over to (Y/N), “All my precious children are old and capable of fighting, but yours won’t be”

(Y/N) placed a hand on her stomach and Molly smiled sweetly, “They’re going to need you and Charlie’s got a point” Molly pulled her in for a hug, “You have to protect yourself and your children, let us fight this battle”

(Y/N) sighed in defeat, “You’re right, Molly” she whispered and turned to her husband who stood beside her, “Let’s go home” She said and Charlie placed a kiss on the top of her head.

The Order reassured them everything would be fine and there was no need for them to worry, their main priority should be is making sure they’re children are healthy and safe.

Somewhere in England. Early July 1997.

It had been a couple days after Dumbledore’s murder,Charlie's brother, Bill, had been attacked by a werewolf the same night as the attack on Hogwarts. They all worried about the repercussions, but Remus Lupin had been watching over him and guiding him through the recovery. These attacks sparked chaos within the Wizarding World. But, there was about to be chaos in the Weasley home.

“Charles!” (Y/N) cried in pain, “Charlie!” She yelled and heard the thumping coming up the stairs

Charlie burst through the door in a panic and noticed his wife holding her stomach and herself up

“Merlin!” He yelled, grabbing the bag they had prepared and her by the hand, “We can’t apparate! We have to use the Floo powder!”

Charlie scooped his wife and began his descent down the stairs. Setting her down in the fireplace, he grabbed the Floo powder along with her hand, yelling out, “Saint Mungo’s Hospital!”

“My wife’s in labor!” Charlie yelled once they arrived and she was quickly taken into a room. Despite her pains, she couldn’t help but smile at Charlie’s nervousness. As she entered a room, Charlie contacted his family, (Y/N)’s family and a couple of their friends. In no time, the entire Weasley family, Jacob, and the Cursed Vaults group had arrived at the hospital and anxiously waited in the designated area.

Jacob Selwyn paced in the waiting room as the hours passed by, worried for his younger sister’s well being. Arthur stood up and place a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that she would be okay.

After painful hours of labor, the twins were finally born. A girl and a boy, the girl being the firstborn, both healthy.

Weasley genes were rather strong, the girl had Charlie’s beautiful green eyes and they both had red hair on the tops of their heads. The boy, however, had (Y/N)’s (E/C) eyes which she was quite happy about.

Charlie promised not to be the first to cry, but that was a promise he couldn’t keep. Once he saw his baby girl and boy, he was all tears, placing kisses all over his wife’s face and wiping the sweat away with a cloth.

(Y/N) held her son in her arms as Charlie attempted to steady the crying girl. Right at that second, The Weasley family came rushing in, stopping a few feet before Charlie and (Y/N)

“Goodness!” Molly exclaimed, “They’re so beautiful” She cried approaching her grandchildren with a large smile.

“Their names are Sophie Cedrella Weasley and Henry Fabian Weasley” Charlie announced, rocking his baby girl back and forth.

Molly covered her mouth as she began to cry. Her both her brothers Fabian and Gideon had been murdered during the First Wizarding War, “I know he would’ve loved to see his grand-niece and nephew” She smiled sadly.

Fred and George pulled out two little rattlers they had created in their joke shop and handed them to (Y/N) with wide grins

“They’re one of a kind!” George stated proudly

“Yeah! So don’t go breaking them” Fred said to the sleeping boy in (Y/N)’s arms. She gladly accepted the gifts from the twins with a large smile.

Bill grinned as he walked over, holding a box containing a set for the game Gobstones, “My niece and nephew can play like we used to at school” He grinned, setting the box down.

“Hey!” Jacob exclaimed, opening the door to the hospital room. There weren’t supposed to be that many people in one room, but they couldn’t keep waiting.

Jacob rushed to his sister’s side and froze in his tracks, gazing at the two children, “(Y/N), they’re so beautiful” he muttered, looking at the fussing baby girl.

“You know, It’s rude if you don’t let us in” Merula stated, walking in with her hands in her pockets. Behind her followed Rowan, Penny, Tulip, Andre, Barnaby, Andre, and Ben.

Ben noticed the sleeping boy and began shushing them, “He’s sleeping!” He whispered, “It’s rude if you wake him up!”

Andre and Tulip were holding an array of balloons, “We weren’t sure if they were gonna be girls or boys so we got both kinds of balloons, just to be safe” Tulip stated

Andre smiled, tying the balloons to the chair, “Bloody lucky we got both!” He laughed, setting another gift down on the chair, “Just a couple outfits, hope they fit” He grinned.

Penny set a bouquet of roses on the nightstand and Rowan set a stack of children’s book besides Andre’s present.

“We might have gone a little overboard” Penny smiled sheepishly and (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, this is perfect. Thank you” She smiled, tears of happiness streaming down her face.

“Uh, Charlie?” Ben called, walking up to him holding two patches in his hand, “I got these if you wanted to sew them on their clothes or something of that sort” Ben showed Charlie two different Dragon patches.

Charlie practically jumped with excitement, “Those are brilliant, Ben!” He replied. Ben couldn’t help but smile and he set the patches down on top of the books. Barnaby and Merula were holding two mobiles respectively

“They’re enchanted,” Merula stated proudly, “They change color, the dragons and hippogriffs fly around as well, but worry they’re perfectly safe”

Barnaby nodded reassuringly, “We’ve been working on them since you told us, they’re perfected”

“They may be perfect, but I think my gift will top yours” Tonks stated, stepping into the room. Penny was overjoyed to see her since she had not been in the waiting room with them.

Tonk’s hair was a brilliant shade of light purple, playing into (Y/N)’s comment that her hair was a different color every day, “Took me a while to find someone that would make such a tedious piece”

Tonks held a very ornate black box which had a golden Hogwarts crest, “Hope you two like it”

Tonks opened the box and a soft tune started, two figures popped up and began dancing around the box which had been enchanted to look like The Yule Ball they had attended during their years at Hogwarts.

Charlie look at the box in awe, “Is that?” He pointed, “Is that me?!” He gazed at the figurine version of himself, ponytail and everything, wearing the dress robes Andre had fixed up for him days before the ball.

“You’re welcome for that” Andre stated, reminded of the horrid robes Charlie had shown him prior to his modifications.

“And me” (Y/N) said, admiring the two figures dancing away. The (C/ O /C) dress glimmering as it moved, “Tonks, this is incredible”

“I know it isn’t a gift for the kids, but I wanted to do something different” She grinned, walking over to the girl Charlie held, “Isn’t that right, little Nymphadora?” She joked and (Y/N) shook her head

“I know that’s not her name, but it’s still hilarious”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but cry at all the love and support their families and friends were showing them. They were sure their children would grow up surrounded by the best people anyone could ask for.

[wesker20]

Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 5: Let's play Little Voice

It’s like the world is out to get you. Every time, every single time you think you finally got what you wanted, the world decides to rip it out of your hands as some sort of cruel joke. And you are not laughing, but rather beating this bag senseless. You’ll be surprised if Jane cannot knock someone out with one punch after this much punching the poor thing.

But something more is going on. One week has passed and you have yet to receive another call and in that time the Army has grown in size and power. They are currently one of the top gangs. But that’s not the worst of it, oh no. The worst of it is that it is someone from your past, a past you have long decided to forget. But alas it has come back and you are not having it. Just last night you remembered, the memory of how it used to be, how you used to be, how you got your name… the name she gave you.

Alpha, Kappa, Zeta… your original team, your brother and sisters, your family. A family you destroyed by treating them as such. You shouldn’t have, you knew it was wrong, you knew that it could get you and them killed or worst, but you kept going, treating them as your family, challenging the general and the other higher ups. Trevor never really cared, to her as long as you were useful you could behave however you pleased, she even seemed to approve and encourage it. But you knew, you knew you were not supposed to act like that, like a person. It was all your fault.

You throw another punch that hits harder than the rest, and it seems Jane’s body is starting to catch up with you. You take a breather and drink a bottle of water, sitting not far from the boxing training ground of the gym. You rest long enough to hear another person punching another bag not far from yours. There you see a young woman, not very tall, long black hair, and a thin physique. She punches the bag with a lot of rage and frustration, almost like she’s venting, just like you. You also notice a bit of bandage around her back and neck.

“You know that poor bag is not going to last that much longer if you keep that up,” you say to get her attention. She turns around looking for the source of the voice and when she notices no one else but you she turns back to punch.

“Look who’s talking. I arrived while you were still punching that one to hell,” she shoots back. Not complete dismissal but you notice a bit of annoyance in her voice.

“Yeah well you know what they say, do as I say not as I do.”

“Heh, can’t argue with you there.”

You stand up and walk to her, paying close attention to how she moves and punches. She’s decent, but nowhere near as good as some of the other people you have seen here. Her technique is strong but predictable, a good base but nothing you use seriously. Overall, someone who has just began fighting and is still learning.

“Ok, strengthen that stance. Anybody with half a brain cell will take you down faster than you can say shit,” you tell her, wondering why the hell you bother. She turns and looks at you with one eyebrow raised. Yet she doesn’t say anything and does as you say. You were waiting for some back sass but surprise, surprise you did not get it. You walk around and behind the back to hold it in place.

“So, problems in paradise?” you ask, trying to begin conversation.

“Something like that. You?” she says a bit suspicious but no longer annoyed.

“Something like that. A couple of problems have sprung up, making my life hell,” you answer, giving a bit more than she does.

She looks at you, indecision in her eyes. If you had to guess, she’s considering whether to share or not. “I made a stupid mistake, and that got… it hurt someone I cared,” she finally says and goes back to punch the bag.

You empathize with her, against your better judgment. “And now you are punching this poor bag to see if something comes up,” you say with a smile.

“Speaking from experience?” she asks now smiling.

“Oh, incredibly so.”

“Does it ever work?”

“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t,” you answer with a mix of sarcasm and frightening hidden honesty.

“I sometimes think it’s a waste of time. But then…” she doesn’t finish. You decide to finish it for her.

“But then something kicks your ass down and this is the only thing you are left with.” She looks at you with a soft smile and then chuckles.

“I was going to go say shit hits the fan, but sure, that works too.”

“Does it have to do with that bandage on your neck?” you decide to tackle that now.

“What?” she says with almost surprise. “Oh this, no. This was… just me being stupid. I heated the shower a bit too much.”

Your eyes slightly narrow on her. “Ouch, that had to hurt.”

“Like hell,” she whispers and rubs it lightly. You can’t tell what’s on her mind but you see a faint grimace. She finally raises her sight and stretches her hand. “I’m Emily by the way.”

You give yours and shake hands with her. “Jane. You come here often?”

“Actually I used to go somewhere else but, well, let’s just say it had a terrible case of being the center of a fight.”

Yeah, those happen a lot. The media only really reports what happens in the city, or when a famous hero and/or villain is involved. Smaller places get trashed all the time without anybody realizing it. “Who were the participants?” you ask as you two move away from the punching bag.

“Red Doll and some guy named Traxis.”

You ignore the surging feeling of satisfaction growing within you. “Oh, you mean that heroine that was on the news recently?”

She tries to hide it but you notice a small cough. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Never heard of the other guy though,” you mention.

“And you probably won’t. He’s currently living on the prison for boosts at the edge of Los Diablos,” she says standing her chest and chin up and proud.

You chuckle as you begin to dress. “Well that’s one less criminal on the streets. Now she just has to deal with the other ninety nine thousand.”

“Yeah, she does.”

You prepare to go and bid farewell to Emily. “Thanks for the chat. I needed it.”

“You and me both. You’ll come back here?”

“Might as well. It’s not far away from where I live.”

You swallow a chuckle. “Well then. When I come back I’ll see if I teach you a couple of other things.”

“Yes please, I need it.”

You leave the gym, thinking about what just happened. You guess it was about time something went your way. You are about eighty percent sure who she is. Still it’s better to wait out a bit, make sure you are one hundred percent right on this; that you just met and befriended Red Doll.

The Hide out

You arrive just in time to have Rosie bombard you with questions. All of them boiling down to ‘what the hell are you going to about the army.’

“I have no idea,” you finally answer. They stare at you dumbfounded.

“Well then let’s ask the boss. They’ll know what to do,” Nehal says in her ever defiant and impatient manner.

“Mastermind is handling other things. For now we wait,” you say, purposely forgetting to tell them about the caller. You don’t know who from your past is after you, and the last thing you need is your crew finding out about you. You are still not sure if to share it with them.

“What!” both Zaza and Nehal say at the same time.

“The more we leave those fuckers, the more they going to spread and smear their name,” Nehal says with Zaza nodding right behind her.

Rosie steps in in your defense and says “Now settle down. When the boss’s not here, Jane’s the boss. And if she says we wait, we wait.”

“Like hell we are. Nehal’s right, those assholes need to be taken down a peg or two,” Zaza barges in.

“If we just barge in blindly, we’ll lose, just like last time,” Pelayo finally steps in, always calm and collected.

“But we can’t-“ Nehal begins but you shut her up immediately.

“As Pelayo said, we can’t just barge in. For now, we wait.” You eye Nehal as she crosses her arms and looks the other way. You walk towards her and close the distance, standing over her. combining the five foot nine of Jane with the plain five foot of Nehal, you look like a giant next to her, which enhances your point. “Unless you have something to say Nehal?”

She stares at you in defiance at first but in a couple of seconds it changes to fear and submission. “No ma’am.”

You turn away from her and address the rest of the team. “Listen up, I know how angry you all are over what happened, trust me I’m just as pissed off about as you are. But right now, they are a bit too big for us. That said they are getting attention. A lot of attention, that includes some big fishes who hate wild ones like the Army.” They all look at you with interest. You, Jane, smiles. Rosie asks what are you talking about and you oblige. “A certain someone hates trouble makers, and the army is a trouble maker.”

Late afternoon, parking lot

You never expected to have to deal with him. Ok, no, you expected to deal with him eventually. But not like this, not actually asking for help. Asking help from Hollow Ground. You spent all week talking to your contacts, asking if they had heard anything at all about the Army or some new player, but no one knew anything. The Army of Mastermind apparently sprung up from nothing, and no one has heard anything about a new player. Whoever this is, they know how to cover their tracks, which leaves you with nothing because everyone from your past knew how to cover their tracks. So you are left with this, contacting one of Hollow Grounds men to grant you information, for whatever price they might ask.

“Good afternoon Miss,” you hear and turn around to see an old man dressed formally. You wonder if he is supposed to be Hollow Ground’s butler or something similar.

“Jane will do,” you answer him as you two shake hands. Instantly you can tell this guy is a mod, his handshake being pretty strong and cold, like Steel’s.

“Of course Miss Jane. I heard your employer was interested in information from mine.”

“Name your price,” you respond with the softest of smiles, never letting it show what you are thinking.

“That is actually what I wanted to discuss,” he says. You can’t read him.

“Really? Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. You see my employer has certain sensibilities when it comes to new groups. Your employer has yet to prove themselves a problem. This “Army” had proven themselves worse.”

You look at him trying to figure out his game. You get nothing from his face but you can see the suggestion coming a mile away. “So for now, consider this information a gift from my employer to yours.”

Gift? You feel more like it’s a favor. Which means you’ll owe him. Shit. “How kind of your employer. I’ll make sure to pass it on to mine.”

“Indeed. Now to what you came here for.” He hands you over a folder. You open it up and eye it up. “To summarize its contents, someone is after your employer. Someone who knows how to hide and has been working from the shadows for years.”

Your eyes open wide and you look up to him. “Years?” since when? Since your first escape? Or since your second? Have they always been watching you?

“Indeed. They made the Army, though the gang did not named itself that until after your employer’s little… tour to the museum.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. They were planning this, somehow they knew what you were planning. “Is that all?”

“More details are on the files, but that’s the gist of it. You will find several whispers and rumors that not everyone on the underworld have heard. A pleasure doing business with you,” he finishes and puts on a hat as he walks away. He stops and turns to you and says “By the way, if anything were to happen to your employer, know that mine has an open seat for you, Miss Jane.” He tips his hat to you and goes, leaving you alone to ponder about what little you have learned.

You proceed to walk away from the lot, preparing to head home. Watch out, behind you! You instantly duck as you feel the rush of air from something going over you. You roll away and take a stance. Four thugs stand in front of you, all armed with armed, one with a bat, one with a crowbar, one with a chain, and another with a knife. “Hey, pretty face. Sorry we are going to have to beat you up. Nothing personal.”

You wonder if this was Hollow Ground, but somehow you doubt that this is his style. “You are surely welcome to try. Warning though, I’m not afraid of beating up children,” you say with a devilish smile. The four of them rush but you knew they were going to do it, just as you know the one with the bat will strike first and the one with the knife will come second. The one with the chain will try to sneak up behind you to choke you with his chain, and the one with the crowbar will attack you from the side.

You know each and every single one of their moves before they happen, not like how you used to do as Sidestep but more like you have seen it already happen before. They think that they are the dangerous ones, but they are wrong. They are not the danger, you are. You’ll show them exactly how and why you are Mastermind’s second in command, why he would send you all alone without protection.

They try to strike you but they fail, they fail and you retaliate, punching them with the same strength that you used in the morning, while beating up the bag. They stumble back and try to strike you again, but you see them coming, all the time. They are not fighters, or even adults, they are children, small kids compared to you. Time and again they aim and attack and time and again they fail. You soon take the guy’s crowbar and hit him in the head with it. The four retreat for a moment, staring at you with shock and fear.

You stare at them while smiling. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you are already scared. I’m barely even getting started.” You don’t know what this is. This pleasure you are having. You want to see them on the ground, bloodied and beaten, begging for their lives while you stare down at them smiling like only a devil could.

They try to run away but you rush them, swinging your crowbar with deadly precision. Some of them try to hit you again but like before they fail. Only these attacks aren’t meant to kill or hurt, but merely delay. They are attacking out of desperation. Good, that’s what you want. Beat them down, have no mercy, they tried to do the same to you, they are nothing. Idiotic children who have failed to live in this world. Beat them, destroy them. Their attacks are nothing, you can see them before they happen. Like a blur you move and stab one of them with the crowbar, the one with the knife. As he lets go of it, you position yourself to let it fall on your hand.

You are barely even trying at this point, you could just sit back and relax. Yes, relax. Sit back and let me handle this. These thugs are unworthy of fighting you. The knife moves in blurs, cutting bit by bit every single one of them. You, she, could easily cut their necks, let them bleed to death, but where’s the fun in that? No, you want them to suffer.

In a couple of minutes the fight is over, although the fight was over long before it began. You stand over all four of them, covered in cuts and blood. Two of them lay dead, one of them dying, and the last one still has enough strength to beg for his life.

“Please,” he whispers. You quiet him with a soft “Shhh” kneeling beside him.

“Don’t worry. You’ll go to a better place soon,” you begin as you put the blade beside his neck. “oh no wait, no you wouldn’t. There is no after this,” and with that you push the blade right into his neck and watch him as he chokes on his own blood. The other dies before you turn to him. Too bad, you would have enjoyed watching him die too.

But as you prepare to leave, you hear a cell phone. It’s coming from one of the corpses and you search it. Once you find it you answer, already expecting who will be on the other end.

“Whoa hohoho, that was incredible. A lot more brutal than I expected it to be. More brutal than when you fight as Mastermind.” Your eyes narrow at the last thing. Of course they know that too.

“So this was you? Gotta say, I’ve seen better murder attempts.”

“oh please, you wouldn’t have died. I just wanted to render that little doll of yours useless. Guess that’ll teach me.”

You smile. This idiot thinks they have you, but they are wrong, you are not a prey, you are hunter. “Indeed, that’ll teach you. That will teach you what will happen when I find you.” you hear an “oh” on the other end. Your smile grows. “You see this? This is how you will end up, bloodied, beaten. And I will be there to watch as you die. You messed with the Mastermind, time for you to meet the Hunter,” you finish and hang, not giving them a chance to retort. You throw the phone away and leave, taking the knife with you as a memento. You want to play? Let’s play little voice of my consciousness.

[lfthinkerwrites]

A Riddle For a Bat, pt. 13

Title: A Riddle for a Bat

Fandom: Batman

Pairing: Riddlebat

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: Edward comes face to face with Rupert Thorne and begins to play the most dangerous game of all.

Previous Chapters: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12

AO3 Link

"You're sounding a lot better, Eddie. More like your old self. Guess Vreeland dragging you to that society thing yesterday was good for you after all."

Edward smiled as he cradled the phone between his right shoulder and ear. "I suppose it was." In more ways than one. Getting out into the world, even the glitzy high society world, seemed to do wonders for him. Seeing him again played a sizable role in that as well, even if he wasn't sure what to make of that encounter. "I feel alive again, that's for sure. I'm ready to get back to work."

"Good to hear. What about Batdick? You're sure you don't want me and Deirdre to hunt him down and kick his ass for you?"

"Nina dearest, even if you two could find him, you couldn't take him. I did witness him throw a man twice your size across a room. Besides, I'm over it." Well, that may not be completely true, but Edward had spent enough time moping about his office. It was time to begin the investigation again. Thorne had spent the last few weeks consolidating his power. He'd be feeling secure, confident, perhaps overly confident. Perhaps now that he had no rival, he'd finally make a mistake. Edward needed to put thoughts of Batman and what he'd learned about him behind for now. "Enough of that. Have you and Deirdre heard anything?"

"A lot of the old Falcone and Maroni guys joined up with Thorne's crew, at least the grunts did. Other than that, not much. Thorne's always been a tough nut to crack."

Edward leaned back in his office chair and groaned. "Tell me about it." A knock on his door drew his attention. "Nina, there's someone at the door, I have to go. Just keep your eyes and ears open. I'll be by later tonight."

"See you later tonight, Eddie." Edward hung up the cell phone and placed it down on his desk before getting out of his chair. He took a moment to smooth back his hair and adjust his purple vest before he crossed the room to open the door. He'd finally settled back into his morning grooming routine today. He needed to look his best for his clients.

He opened the door and saw an attractive, dark-haired young woman wearing a short red skirt and red suit jacket practically leaning against his doorway. Her almond shaped eyes looked him up and down and her lips upturned in a smirk. "Edward Nigma?" she asked.

"That would be me," Edward answered, trying to ignore how the woman seemed to be devouring him with her eyes. The most awkward part of the job by far. "How can I help you, Ms....?"

"Call me Candace," the woman said, extending her hand out to him. Edward gently took it and gave it a shake before he withdrew his hand.

"Very well Candace," Edward said. "How may I be of assistance to you today?"

"Actually, I'm here on behalf of my boss. He's heard quite a bit about you."

Edward arched an eyebrow. This certainly was unusual. "Does your employer have a name?"

"Rupert Thorne."

Instantly, Edward felt the room drop a few degrees. "Rupert...Thorne?" He had to be dreaming. That was it. There was no way this woman had just come in out of the blue to lead him directly to Rupert Thorne.

"The one and only," Candace smirked.

Edward wet his lip. If Thorne had found out about him and wanted him dead, he wouldn't be sending this woman to do it. It wouldn't hurt to play along. "And just what does the illustrious Rupert Thorne want me to assist him with?"

"You can ask him yourself," Candace gestured to the front door. "I have a car waiting to take you to him. Interested?"

For a long moment, Edward considered this. This would take him straight into Thorne's lair. Kristen would be worried. Nina and Deirdre would call him an idiot. He would be furious. But. But he'd been waiting for this opportunity for five years. When would it ever come again? "Give me just one moment." He walked to his hat rack to put on his flashiest jacket. He also grabbed the cane hung up on the hook next to it. After he put on his bowler hat he flashed Candace what he hoped was his most dazzling smile. "Lead the way."

Edward barely acknowledged Candace on the drive further in Gotham's downtown. He barely took in the sight of the stone building the car had stopped in front of or noticed the plush carpet of the hallway she and two men led him down. He barely heard the light conversation they made over the beating of his own heart. Finally, they stopped in front of a solid oak door. Candace at the front of the group opened it. "We're back, Rupe!" Edward followed Candace and the two men inside and he froze.

There was a man sitting behind a large desk. An older, overweight man with white hair, wearing a black business suit. He looked up when Candace called him and fixed the group with an oily smile. This was the man Edward had spent the last five years of his life working to bring down. This was Rupert Thorne. "Come in, come in!" he beckoned them into his office with a gesture of his palm. Edward wasn't aware that he was stepping forward until he was directly in front of Thorne's desk. Thorne looked up with a glint in his beady black eyes. "Ah, you must be the famous Edward Nigma," Thorne addressed him in a way that was almost charming. He reached his hand out to shake. "Pleased to meet you."

In one second, Edward could reach across the desk and strike Thorne. How often had he lain awake at night, wishing for that? If he'd come armed, he could have delivered a fatal blow to the man before Candace and his guards had time to react. He'd be killed but wouldn't it be worth it to make sure Thorne was put out of this city's misery for good? Edward plastered on a cool smile before he accepted the handshake. "The pleasure's all mine. It's not every day that I get to meet someone as distinguished as yourself." It made Edward almost cringe to be so subservient to the man, but appearances needed to be kept. He rubbed the head of his cane and surreptitiously pressed the record button on the underside of the cane's head. This entire conversation would be recorded. "Now, your very charming assistant said that you requested to meet with me."

Thorne dropped his hand and sat back in his plush red chair. "Yes," he said. "As I've said, I've read quite a lot about you Mr. Nigma. You've made a bit of a name for yourself solving seemingly impossible cases."

Edward made a show of shrugging. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but I am the cleverest men in this city. As well as the best dressed."

Thorne let out a deep laugh. "Well, you're certainly sure of yourself! I like that. To come to the point, I'm in need of your services."

A cold dread settled in Edward's gut. In need of his services...what could that possibly be? "Go on."

Thorne leaned forward then, steepling his fat fingers. "There's one great mystery that no one in this town's ever been able to solve, but I think you can. I'd like you to figure out who the man is behind Batman's mask."

Edward felt as if he was in a daze. Batman. Of all the men and all the things Thorne could ask him for, it had to be Batman. It made sense though. With Falcone and Maroni gone, the only person left to oppose Thorne was Batman. At least, that's what Thorne believed. There was another and he was standing right in front of the gangster's stupid face.

"Mr. Nigma?"

Edward slightly shook his head. "Batman's true identity," he pretended to muse. He rubbed his chin. "I have to admit, that's a question I've pondered myself for some time. To solve that would be quite the challenge."

"So are you interested?"

Edward looked down to study Thorne's expression. He looked right back up, his eyes almost boring into Edward's. He smiled. "Mr. Thorne, I am at your disposal."

Thorne smiled. A cold smile that wouldn't be out of place on a serial killer. In Edward's opinion, Thorne may as well be one. "Excellent! Now, about your fee-"

Edward abruptly raised his hand. "Forget it." He would be dead and buried before he ever accepted Thorne's blood money. The confused expression on Thorne's face however needed to be dealt with. "Beg your pardon, Mr. Thorne, but with something like this, the challenge is its own reward. We can discuss a fee after I deliver Batman's identity to you."

Thorne smiled again and Edward knew he had him. "Mr. Nigma, I think this could be the beginning of a great partnership."

Edward smiled himself. If the fool only knew.

The girls were, as Edward could have predicted, less than thrilled when Edward told them the news that night at Kristen's apartment. Kristen herself sat at her table, picking at the sleeves of her blouse. "Eddie," she said at last. "I'm sorry, but-"

"This is the stupidest damn idea you've ever had," Deirdre piped up from her seat on the couch next to Nina. "What happens if Thorne finds out you were in GCPD?"

"If he didn't figure it out before he had me brought to his office, he's not going to now," Edward said, pacing across Kristen's living room. "Besides, how better to collect evidence against Thorne than from his own mouth? If he trusts me, he may be candid about his actions the last few weeks."

"What about Batman though?" Nina asked. "I get that your pissed at him and I don't blame you, but are you seriously going to go along with trying to figure out who he is?"

"No," he admitted. "But Thorne doesn't need to know that. All I have to do is look busy and he won't have anything to complain about."

"For a few days, maybe," Kristen said. "Eddie, Thorne didn't get to be where he is by being an idiot. He's going to figure out that you're playing him eventually."

"Eventually," Edward said. He wasn't about to deny that Kristen had a point, but he was so close, how could he give up now? "But that's only a problem if I can't get evidence. And I will get evidence."

Kristen shook her head. "Eddie, I really think you should talk to-"

"He's the one that pushed me away, Kristen!" Edward shouted. He saw her flinch and instantly calmed himself down. He sighed. "I'll be alright. I promise."

The three women exchanged an uneasy look.

Tonight was the night, Bruce thought. He drove the Batmobile down Broad and turned onto Main. It was a quiet night on patrol tonight, as it had been for the past two weeks. The relative peace gave Bruce time to think about tonight, about what exactly he would say to Edward when he saw him. He'd apologize, of course. Offer to reform their partnership, if that was what Edward wanted. Bruce swallowed a bit. Tell Edward what he was beginning to feel for him. Everything else was up to Edward.

"Anything interesting going on out there?" Dick's voice rang through the Batmobile's communications.

Bruce leaned forward to press a button. "Nothing so far. Just a mugging and some vandalism."

"Wow. Maybe we should think of retiring. So, have you seen Eddie yet, or?"

Bruce arched an eyebrow. "No, not yet. And since when did you start calling him Eddie?"

Dick laughed. "Well, if we're going to be working together, might as well get comfortable, right? So I'm thinking we could have him be our intel guy. He's still got that informant network that could come in handy."

Bruce hadn't thought that far ahead, but the idea of Edward joining their team was appealing in more ways than one. "I think you're just saying that to get out of intel duty."

"You really are the World's Greatest Detective."

Bruce was about to say something when he caught a glimpse of light in the rearview mirror. He turned around slightly and bit back a curse. The Batsignal was on in the night sky. "I got to go, Dick. I'll check in in a bit." He made a sharp left turn and drove back towards GCPD.

When he arrived on the rooftop of GCPD, Gordon wasn't alone. Standing beside him, clutching her jacket close to her, was Kristen Kringle. Bruce's heart dropped. "What happened?"

Gordon gently put his hand on Kristen's shoulder. "Tell him what you told me."

Kristen took a step forward, her hazel eyes downcast, and said the two words Bruce feared the most. "It's Eddie." She bit her lip. "I think he's in real trouble."

Edward stretched his arms above his head and popped his back with a grunt. He'd just spent the last few hours reviewing the audio he'd taken at Thorne's office and backing it up to his computer. Nothing that directly connected him to the killings of course but it was a start. He'd be meeting Thorne back in his office the next morning at 9 on the dot. Hopefully, he'd slip up then. In the meantime, Edward would have to be careful just how he went about the business with Batman, how to avoid giving away what he knew. He sighed. More than anything, he wished the vigilante was with him now, that they were back to working this case together. He felt the cool wind against his back and he shivered a bit. Then he froze. The window to his fire escape was shut when he came back from Kristen's.

"Edward."

Edward jumped out of his chair and turned around. Batman was there, standing behind his desk. Edward felt almost every emotion competing for dominance in his mind. Elation, at seeing him again. Anger, for being abandoned by him. Confusion, desire...Edward furrowed his brow when he saw how tense the vigilante was, how his fists were clenched. He was angry. "Edward," he spoke again. "Just what in the Hell are you doing?"

Edward almost took a step back before his own ire was roused. Batman was angry at him? That was rich. "I see Kristen got word to you, somehow," he said, crossing his arms. He really should have expected that. "Nice to know that all I had to do to get your attention was to make tangible progress on the case."

"You're throwing yourself in danger, Edward!" Batman shouted at him. He really was angry. "What are you thinking!?"

"I'm thinking that this is the best shot I have at getting evidence against Thorne! O'Reilly's dead and I doubt either of us had any luck connecting him to Thorne!"

"That doesn't mean that you have to take risks like this!" Batman lowered his voice and the timber of it was very familiar to Edward. "Don't you think your life is more important than putting Thorne away?"

He sounded almost stricken and that made Edward's heart beat just a bit faster. He shook his head and stepped forward. "You told me that night when you found out about why I left GCPD that you understood me," he said. He closed the distance between the two of them and impulsively took a gloved hand into his own. "I think now I understand you. You think that you're trying to protect me. I suppose I appreciate the thought, even if the way you go about it is less than ideal. But you're so busy trying to prevent me from getting hurt that you seem to be forgetting that I survived for five years outside of GCPD with nothing but my own wits. You need to respect me as much as protect me."

"Edward-"

Edward held a hand up. "Let me finish. I want to work with you on this, more than anything. You said that you trusted me, and I believe you, but you need to prove it."

There was a long pause before Batman spoke. Soon enough, Batman moved his hands out of Edward's grasp and onto his shoulders. "Three days," he said finally. "I'll give you three days to do this. I'll be by every night to check in with you and at the first hint of any danger, I'm pulling you out. Understand?" Edward nodded. Batman sighed again. "I don't like this."

"It's not strictly speaking what I'd want either," Edward said. "But I can do it."

"I know you can," Batman said again. He dropped his hands and went back towards the open window. "I'll be back tomorrow. Be careful."

Edward nodded. "Thank you."

Batman hesitated as if there was something else he wanted to say, then he left, disappearing into the night.

[fanaticwritings]

His Secret - CHAPTER 5

Sam Winchester x Reader [AU SERIES]

summary: Sam Winchester is the CEO of a branch of the billion dollar company Winchester Corp. The reader is a detective and also the love of his life. They think they live a happy life but there’s trouble in paradise. Y/N finds that her beloved wanders off somewhere at nights, when she sleeps. She obviously grows suspicious. What does he have to hide?

warnings/contents: slight angst, new characters

word count: 2.5k (will i ever have a consistent word count?)

catch up here: chap. 1 | chap. 2 | chap. 3 | chap. 4

A/N: What up, folks? How are you liking the story so far? Also, I have a beta for this series now @paradisaicsam, my heavensent angel!!! Go check her fics out they’re BRILLIANT, like her!!! Love you, doll <33

S A M

The night had settled in dark and absolute as Sam stood by the window, gazing at the road below. Only a car or two honked by, illuminated by the dull glow of a lamp post.

The house was only two stories high but built on high ground, in a lane that branched out from the main street. It was a secluded area, for the lane had a dead end.

A cold breeze swept in, tousling Sam’s hair.

Two arms snaked around his trim waist and he leaned back into her frame, inhaling deeply.

Y/N placed a kiss on his shoulders, undoubtedly standing on her tiptoes.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, as she slid her hands away and stood next to him, following his gaze to the road.

“I don't want you to help me, Y/N,” he confided, sighing.

Y/N had been predictable. She had done exactly what Sam had known she would. And the feeling it gave him wasn't a welcome one. If he agreed to take her help he would be putting her in grave danger too. He didn't know if he could do that.

“There we go again,” Y/N said, in a slightly hurt tone. “We literally just talked about this.”

“I know but it doesn't stop the horrible feeling this is giving me,” he confided, turning to her and grasped her shoulders.

“I'm a detective, Sam. It's what I do for a living. Fight crime and catch the bad guys,” she remarked, punching him playfully. Sam chuckled, in spite of himself.

“Besides, I can't let you do this alone.”

Sam sighed. This was an endless cycle.

“What would I do if something happened to you?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing. Exhaustion shone in his eyes and he was almost slumping but with this new found worry, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.

“And what would I do if something happened to you?” Y/N shot back.

Sam felt his lips curl against his will. There was no winning against her. This fierce woman who would never take no for an answer, who loved so unconditionally that she never knew when to stop giving. Sam knew this and everything that dulled Y/N’s bright interior, he knew of every scar and every blemish. But it had only made him fall harder for her. Now that they were together, he wanted to help her heal and grow, whilst making sure she was happy and safe. Then how could he have the heart to let her into this?

“I could help you with so much, Sam,” Y/N said. “We're better together and you know that.”

Sam’s face grew warm. “That's true. We are.”

“I love you,” she said, standing on her tiptoes and reaching for his forehead. She pressed a chaste kiss and Sam wanted to live in the moment forever. He wanted to forget everything else and just be. With her.

“I love you too,”he said, burying his face into her shoulder and pulling her flush against him, hoping she hadn't seen the hint of tears brimming in his eyes.

***

When Sam woke up the next morning,Y/N was already gone, her side of the bed cold. He could still feel the ghost of her lips on his from when she had kissed him this morning. He smiled, slumping back in bed.

He wished he just could spend the day in bed but he had work to do. As if on cue, his phone set off a shrill ring.

“I was just leaving,” he said into his phone, running a hand over his groggy face and lept out of bed and to the shower.

In fifteen minutes, he was out, dressed in a sharp blue suit and polished black shoes. His chauffeur pulled them out of the parking lot and they bustled down the busy road in the XXW Mary.

Sam liked driving to work on his own but his colleagues and Dean insisted he get a chauffeur who doubled up as his bodyguard. He had resisted but once Y/N had set her foot down, he was left with no choice.

“Bad night?” Harper, his secretary, asked as they both sauntered towards Sam's cabin.

“Not really,” he answered, taking the iPad from Harper’s hand which had his agenda for today.

“Mr. Roman was supposed to be today?” Sam asked, glancing at Harper.

“I sent you a reminder yesterday,” Harper said, glancing at Sam's other hand which held his own phone.

Sam sighed. “I didn't check my phone last night,” he confessed, settling into his fancy office chair.

Harper placed a file on his desk. “That's the graphs from yesterday. Everything else is already on your schedule.”

“Thank you,” he said, nodding at Harper who smiled at him and then left.

Just when Sam opened the file to check on the details, a knock resounded in the room.

“Come in,” he called, shutting the file and placing his hands over it.

A red head popped in, smiling cheerfully at him. “It's done!” she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement and presented him a file.

Sam's eyes grew wide in disbelief. “Already?” he asked, eyebrows arching up further and further, almost disappearing into his hairline as he shuffled through the contents.

Charlie Bradbury, the read head, plopped into the chair in front of him. “I couldn't even sleep last night because I was so excited to show it to you,” she murmured, massaging her head.

Sam chuckled. “This is remarkable, Charlie. Although, I wouldn't have expected anything less from you.”

Charlie beamed at that, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. “Thanks, boss,” she said, making a show of bowing before him. Sam laughed again.

“Please, it’s Sam. Also, will you be okay with presenting this with me to the board tomorrow?” Sam asked, as an afterthought.

Charlie froze at that. “What? M-me? Present this? With you? To the board? OhmygodIampanicking,” she said, speaking fast, eyes wide. Sam could see that her brain was already storming up all sorts of scenarios.

“Charlie, hey, hey. You're easily one of the best people this company has had in a while and you're doing such remarkable stuff for the WT already. I'd love it if you presented this with me,” Sam assured her, leaning over the desk and smiling.

It was true. Charlie was ridiculously smart and absolutely brilliant at what she did. She was an asset to the team. Her work had helped them make better products and boom their sales over the course of just a year. Promotion wasn't far, at the rate with which she was doing work.

“Um, I'm literally shaking right now but sure!” Charlie said, beaming at him and Sam grinned.

Charlie was so fun to be around, he was so glad he had hired her.

“Thanks, Sam,” she said, gratitude dripping in her voice and Sam brushed it off with a smile. “Hey, don’t mention it.”

Minutes ticked into hours as Sam sat peering into the files piled at his desk- statuses, designs, algorithms- all of which he personally looked into. Sam didn't just own the company, he made sure he knew everything the company did to it's last detail. He immersed himself into the work as deeply as he could, and worked almost as much as his employees did. Everyone at the company loved him and were glad to be working with him.

An alert on his phone notified him that he had his meeting with Roman in half an hour.

Sam sighed deeply.

Dick Roman’s company had been a rival of Winchester Tech since the very beginning. The Winchester Corp had been a good match for the Roman Enterprises during John’s time. Dick Roman’s father had been running the business then. The company had been their competitor even after Sam and Dean had taken the wheel but it was slowly on its way to ruin and bankruptcy. Roman Enterprises had the best marketing but the products were their shortfall.

The best way they could be saved was if they partnered up with a tech giant like The Winchester Tech and that was what Sam had to discuss with him, even if he was reluctant to.

Sam ran a lean hand through his hair as he headed out and into his car. The chauffeur promptly drove him to his destination.   

The Enterprise office was a glass building, towering at about twenty feet. The interior was impressive and nothing like Sam had imagined.

“Evening, Mr. Winchester,” Dick Roman welcomed as Sam walked into the cabin. Sam reached over to shake the man’s hand. The handshake was curt and short as Sam returned the greeting with a smile and sat down on the opposite chair. Roman was a relatively short man with sharp, pointed features and a thoroughly unnerving smile.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” Sam said, offering him another polite smile. His cheeks were already starting to hurt.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Dick replied.

They talked about the business and politics for a while, trying to cut the tension in the air around them. They were opponents, after all. It couldn't get better than that. After a while, when a numbing silence ensued, Sam decided to finally get to the point.

"I'd just like to thank you for being so generous in your donations at the charity event this week," Sam said, smiling. “The Wings foundation will forever be grateful.” "It was my pleasure, Mr. Winchester. With your assets, you have to do things like these once in a while. Otherwise people talk. I'm sure you get that," Dick said, casually twirling the round paperweight on his desk. Sam shifted in his seat. Did Roman just try to insinuate the charity had been nothing but a display of their fortune? Sam felt his blood boil. He had never met Roman before and knew that he wasn't the nicest person but this wasn't something he had foreseen. Unpredictability was apparently a thing with the Roman Enterprises. He tried to not look offended and changed the topic. "I know our companies don't look eye to eye, Mr. Roman, but I'd like to propose an offer," Sam said, composing himself. Except for the quirk of an eyebrow, Roman showed no other emotion. He continued to gaze at the paperweight in his hand. "Winchester Corp. would like to buy your company," Sam said, coming straight to the point. Roman looked at him then, face still unreadable. Without so much as even shifting a muscle, he said, “No.”

Now that was something Sam had predicted. “I insist you reconsider, Mr. Roman. It would benefit both our companies.”

Sam tried to refrain from out rightly saying that Roman Enterprises was being crushed by the Corp and that a partnership would was their only savior at this point. Roman would go ballistic.

"You could offer the entire treasury of your company, Mr. Winchester and I would still never sell this company. Least of all, to you," he replied, standing up suddenly. Sam didn't flinch. Roman’s behavior was extremely unprofessional but he let it slide. “With Winchester Tech, your products-" "No," Roman said, cutting him and turned away from Sam. Sam knew that there was no point in arguing further. He stood up. "Then that'll be all, Mr. Roman. Thank you for agreeing to meet me, at any rate." Roman didn't respond, at first. Sam turned to leave, reaching for the door  handle when Roman spoke up, "You underestimate us greatly, Mr. Winchester." Sam looked back just as Roman turned to face him. "We will crush you, and that's a promise," he said, smiling tersely. A chill ran down Sam's spine. There it was again, that predatory smile. He didn't reply, only opened the door and walked right out. Right when the board members had suggested they buy Roman Enterprises, Sam knew it would never happen. Dick wasn't exactly the most co-operative person in town. It didn't help that he had a ego bigger than the Corp itself, either. But this meeting had been something altogether. Roman's rudeness greatly annoyed and confused Sam. They were rivals, that was true but the way Roman had talked to Sam felt like he had something else against him. Sam didn't know what it was. It was possible that Roman was just that competitive. Sam drove shotgun beside his chauffeur, he didn't ever like sitting in the back. There was no concrete reason for it, but the chauffeur, David, knew that it was why Sam was known to be the most humble man in town. Sam asked him to take him straight home, a headache already beginning to get the better of him. Sam glanced out the window, watching the familiar city lights flash by. He texted Y/N asking when she'd be home. He had a bazillion other texts from friends, Dean, the media and what not but he didn't have the energy to deal with them at the moment. He clicked his phone off. He looked out the window again, wincing as his headache flared. Something in the rear view mirror outside, caught his eye. A black car was right behind his own and he recognised it from when he had walked out of Roman's office. He vaguely remembered the license plate but couldn't be sure. It perturbed him.

The sedan made a turn just as Sam's car did. He couldn't quite see the driver and it unnerved him greatly. Sam continued to watch as the car followed them as they weaved through the lanes. Thinking fast, he motioned for the chauffeur to halt the car at a side. Just as the car slowed down to a stop, the trailing car turned left into a lane and disappeared. "Everything okay, sir?” David asked, glancing at Sam. Sam nodded, blinking. What the hell had just happened? They arrived at the house, and Sam was soon up in his room, undressing. No sign of Y/N yet. She hadn't replied either. Sam showered absentmindedly, still thinking about the car. Had someone been following him or was he just overthinking? Why had it left him feeling distressed, then?

He let the cool shower pellets massage his back and shoulders. It relieved some of the physical stress but didn't clear his mind.  

He toweled himself, leaning on the counter and rubbed his head. The headache was agonising. An aspiring would do him little good.

Sam went over the day's events, realising that it had been a downward graph. Talking to Garth would have to be postponed, he noted mentally. He exhaled deeply and walked out of the bathroom, slipping into comfortable trousers and giving the t-shirt a skip.

Before settling into bed, he texted Y/N telling her that he was off to sleep and if she could come spend the night with him instead of her apartment. He glanced over at her side of the bed hoping more than ever that she could be there, with him. 

Sleep overcame him soon enough, exhaustion winning the battle against his racing mind. Outside, as midnight came trailing in, a shadow of a man seeped into the mansion grounds as he stood outside the gates, gazing up the structure. He stood there for awhile, staring, before a shout from the security startled him. He glanced back at the tall building one last time, before turning his back on the approaching guard and vanished around a corner.

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[minerspensionfight]

Speaking on BBC Question Time on 26 March 2020, Richard Horton, the editor-in-chief of the Lancet medical journal, described the government’s response to the coronavirus pandemic as “a national scandal”. A look through the key moments in the crisis explains why.

October 2016: Exercise Cygnus, a three-day training on how to deal with a pandemic, is carried out, involving all major government departments, the NHS and local authorities. “It showed gaping holes in Britain’s Emergency Preparedness, Resilience and Response plan.” A report on the exercise has never been published, with a senior former government source with direct involvement saying the findings were deemed “too terrifying” to be revealed. A senior academic directly involved in Exercise Cygnus and the current pandemic said: “These exercises are supposed to prepare government for something like this – but it appears they were aware of the problem but didn’t do much about it.” (Sunday Telegraph)

14 September 2017: National Risk Register Of Civil Emergencies published by the Cabinet Office. The report notes “there is a high probability of a flu pandemic occurring” with “up to 50% of the UK population experiencing symptoms, potentially leading to between 20,000 and 750,000 fatalities and high levels of absence from work.” (Cabinet Office)

30 July 2018: UK biological security strategy published, addressing the threat of pandemics. It “was not properly implemented, according to a former government chief scientific advisor… Prof Sir Ian Boyd, who advised the environment department for seven years until last August and was involved in writing the strategy, said a lack of resources was to blame.” (Guardian)

2 January 2020: “Chinese authorities have launched an investigation into a mysterious viral pneumonia which has infected dozens of people in the central city of Wuhan.” (BBC News)

Mid-January 2020: “From about mid-January onwards, it was absolutely obvious that this was serious, very serious”, notes John Edmunds, a professor of infectious disease modelling and a key adviser to the government. (Reuters)

21 January 2020: “China’s health ministry has confirmed human-to-human transmission of a mysterious Sars-like virus that has spread across the country and fuelled anxiety about the prospect of a major outbreak as millions begin travelling for lunar new year celebrations.” (Guardian)

23 January 2020: China implements a lockdown in Wuhan province, the centre of the outbreak. All transport into and out of the city is stopped (with no exceptions even for personal and medical emergencies), shops, schools and universities are closed, public transport halted, and private vehicles barred from the roads without special permission. (Guardian)

24 January 2020: A group of Chinese doctors and scientists publish an article in the Lancet medical journal titled ‘Clinical Features of Patients Infected With 2019 Novel Coronavirus in Wuhan, China’ (Lancet). According to Devi Sridhar, chair of global public health at the University of Edinburgh, the study showed “that a third of patients require admission to intensive care, and 29% get so bad that they need ventilation.” (Guardian)

26 January 2020: Nassim Taleb and two colleagues publish a note with the New England Complex Systems Institute urging a robust precautionary response to the outbreak. “Policy- and decision-makers must act swiftly and avoid the fallacy that to have an appropriate respect for uncertainty in the face of possible irreversible catastrophe amounts to ‘paranoia,’ or the converse a belief that nothing can be done”, they conclude. (New England Complex Systems Institute)

Are Uyghur Muslims’ Organs Being Illegally Removed to Save China’s Coronavirus Patients?

CJ Werleman

30 January 2020: The World Health Organisation (WHO) declares coronavirus a “public health emergency of international concern”. (Guardian)

31 January 2020: Professor Joseph Wu, from the School of Public Health at the University of Hong Kong, co-authors an article in the Lancet medical journal about the coronavirus outbreak in China. The authors note “Independent self-sustaining outbreaks in major cities globally could become inevitable because of substantial exportation of presymptomatic cases and in the absence of large-scale public health interventions. Preparedness plans and mitigation interventions should be readied for quick deployment globally” (Lancet). “British officials took part in four meetings where EU projects to bulk-buy medical kit were discussed – the earliest in January, according to official minutes … At this [31 January 2020] meeting, four EU member states said the virus could require increased stocks in Europe of personal protective equipment (PPE) such as gloves, masks and goggles, and the commission said it was ready to help if asked… the UK had decided not to participate in any of four EU procurement schemes to buy medical equipment in response to the coronavirus crisis.” (Guardian)

13 February 2020: Between 13 February and 30 March the UK misses a total of eight conference calls or meetings about coronavirus between EU heads of state or health ministers. (Reuters)

24 February 2020: At a press conference in Beijing the WHO-China Joint Mission on COVID-19 highlights how China “rolled out probably the most ambitious, and I would say, agile and aggressive disease containment effort in history” to fight the spread of coronavirus (WHO). Rupert Read sends a briefing to a senior member of the Government, urging the adoption of the kind of strong precautionary measures laid out in Taleb et al’s 24 January note. The government response to Read is non-committal.

26 February 2020: A memo from the Government’s National Security Communications Team warns that in a worst-case-scenario half a million Britons could die from coronavirus. (Mirror)

Late February 2020: According to a Sunday Times report, at a private event Dominic Cummings, the Prime Minister’s Chief Advisor, outlined the government’s strategy at the time in a way that was summarised by someone present as “herd immunity, protect the economy, and if that means some pensioners die, too bad.” (Guardian)

29 February 2020: First recorded case of local transmission in the UK. (BBC News)

2 March 2020: The SPI-M committee, an official committee set up to model the spread of pandemic flu, publishes a report noting up to four-fifths of the population could be infected and one in a hundred might die – “that was a prediction of over 500,000 deaths in this nation of nearly 70 million” (Reuters). After chairing his first emergency COBRA meeting (the Government’s emergency response committee) on the Coronavirus, Prime Minister Boris Johnson says that the country is “very, very well-prepared”. (Sky News)

3 March 2020: “Prime Minister Boris Johnson said… that Coronavirus would not stop him greeting people with a handshake, adding that he had shaken the hands of everyone at a hospital where infected patients were being treated” (Reuters). During the press conference the Prime Minister said “Our country remains extremely well prepared. We already have a fantastic NHS, fantastic testing systems and fantastic surveillance of the spread of disease.” However, “the upbeat tone of that briefing stood in sharp contrast with the growing unease of many of the government’s scientific advisers behind the scenes. They were already convinced that Britain was on the brink of a disastrous outbreak”. (Reuters)

4 March 2020: “The government has been accused of withholding information about the spread of Coronavirus after a 70% increase in confirmed cases prompted health officials to stop providing daily updates on the location of new infections.” (Guardian)

Herd Immunity – Timeline of a Climb-Down

Stefan Simanowitz

5 March 2020: The Prime Minister floats the idea of “herd immunity” on ITV’s This Morning, saying “one of the theories is, that perhaps you could take it on the chin, take it all in one go and allow the disease, as it were, to move through the population, without taking as many draconian measures” (This Morning). Professor Chris Whitty, the Chief Medical Officer, tells the Commons Health Committee “One of the things which is clear, if you model out the epidemic, is you will get 50% of all the cases over a three-week period and 95% of the cases over a nine-week period, if it follows the trajectory we think it’s likely to.” One scenario could involve a “huge number” of cases “overtopping the ability of the NHS realistically to put everybody in beds”. (Guardian)

7 March 2020: Rupert Read publishes a briefing setting out what a precautionary approach to the outbreak would look like, having sent it to a senior member of the government on 24 February. The briefing urges immediate implementation of measures such as shutting down of most air travel, treating cold and flu symptoms presumptively as Coronavirus symptoms and shutting down places where the old or medically-vulnerable are likely to exposed to the virus. (Rupert Read)

Early-mid March 2020: In the face of government inaction, large numbers of institutions, organisations and individuals across the UK move to cancel or postpone public events, or hold them remotely, including the Six Nations Championship and the Premier League. (Independent)

9 March 2020: A report from the government’s Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies, SAGE, recommends, with no dissension recorded in its summary, that the UK reject a China-style lockdown. (Reuters)

10-13 March 2020: The government allows the Cheltenham Festival to take place, with over 60,000 people attending each day. Since then a number of racegoers have been diagnosed with Coronavirus. (Guardian)

The fateful legacy of the Atlético Madrid-Liverpool football match and the Cheltenham races

John Ashton

10 March 2020: “The government was accused of playing roulette with the public by the editor-in-chief of the Lancet medical journal. Dr Richard Horton called for the ‘urgent implementation of social distancing and closure policies’.” (Guardian)

11 March 2020: WHO declares a Coronavirus pandemic. The government allows the UEFA Champions League football match between Liverpool and Atlético Madrid to go ahead at Anfield stadium in Liverpool. 54,000 people attend the game, including 3,000 fans from Spain. Spain closed its schools on 10 March 2020 (Guardian). NHS England says there are plans to increase Coronavirus testing to 10,000 a day (NHS England). Dr David Halpern, the Head of the Number 10 ‘Nudge Unit’, tells the BBC “There is going to be a point, assuming the epidemic flows and grows as we think it probably will do, where you’ll want to cocoon, you’ll want to protect those at-risk group so that they basically don’t catch the disease and by the time they come out of their cocooning herd immunity has been achieved in the rest of the population” (Guardian). “The [unpublished] modelling from Imperial College that underpinned the government’s belief that the nation could ride out the epidemic by letting the infection sweep through, creating ‘herd immunity’ on the way, was… troubling”, the Guardian’s Science Editor noted. “The model, based on 13-year-old code for a long-feared influenza pandemic, assumed that the demand for intensive care units would be the same for both infections. Data from China soon showed this to be dangerously wrong, but the model was only updated when more data poured out of Italy, where intensive care was swiftly overwhelmed and deaths shot up”. (Guardian)

12 March 2020: Addressing the “question of banning major public events such as sporting fixtures” the Prime Minister says “The scientific advice as we’ve said over the last couple of weeks is that banning such events will have little effect on the spread” (Prime Minister’s Office, 10 Downing Street). The government announces it will “no longer try to ‘track and trace’ everyone suspected of having the virus. Instead, under plans outlined by the Prime Minister and his medical and scientific advisers, testing would be limited to patients in hospital with serious breathing problems” (Guardian). The WHO’s director-general makes his opening remarks at the mission briefing on COVID-19: “We are deeply concerned that some countries are not approaching this threat with the level of political commitment needed to control it. Let me be clear: describing this as a pandemic does not mean that countries should give up. The idea that countries should shift from containment to mitigation is wrong and dangerous” (WHO). The Guardian reports that as of 12 March “almost every country [in Europe] had deployed nationwide or regional school closures”. The UK’s schools remain open. (Guardian)

13 March 2020: “Mass gatherings are to be banned across the UK from next weekend, the government has announced after Boris Johnson’s cautious approach to the coronavirus outbreak was overtaken by care homes, sporting bodies and even the Queen taking matters into their own hands” (Guardian). The government’s chief science adviser, Sir Patrick Vallance, tells BBC Radio 4 Today programme that one of “the key things we need to do” is to “build up some kind of herd immunity so more people are immune to this disease and we reduce the transmission” (Vox). Interviewing Sir Patrick on Sky News about the herd immunity strategy, presenter Stephen Dixon says “even looking at the best case scenario… 0.5-1 percent fatality in something like this, that’s an awful lot of people dying in this country” (Sky News). Professor Graham Medley, who leads the government’s disease modelling team, tells BBC Newsnight “We are going to have to generate what is called herd immunity… and the only way of developing that in the absence of infection is for the majority of the population to become infected” (BBC Newsnight). The WHO’s director general says all possible action should be taken: “Not testing alone. Not contact tracing alone. Not quarantine alone. Not social distancing alone. Do it all” (Guardian). “Anthony Costello, a paediatrician and former World Health Organization director, said that the UK government was out of kilter with other countries in looking to herd immunity as the answer. It could conflict with WHO policy, he said in a series of Twitter posts, which is to contain the virus by tracking and tracing all cases” (Guardian). BBC News reports on a new study of more than 44,000 cases of Covid-19, based on data from the Chinese Centre for Disease Control and Prevention. The study puts “the overall death rate of the Covid-19 virus at 2.3%.” (BBC News)

14 March 2020: WHO spokeswoman, Margaret Harris, questions the UK government’s decision to follow a herd immunity response to the outbreak, telling BBC Radio 4’s Today programme: “We don’t know enough about the science of this virus, it hasn’t been in our population for long enough for us to know what it does in immunological terms” (Guardian). More than 200 scientists sign an open letter to the government urging them to introduce tougher measures to tackle the spread of Covid-19, noting the UK’s current approach will put the NHS under additional stress and “risk many more lives than necessary” (BBC News). Six senior health experts, including Richard Horton, the editor-in-chief of the Lancet, and Devi Shridhar, professor public health at the University of Edinburgh, publish a letter in the Times, noting there is “no clear indication that the UK’s response is being informed by experiences of other countries”. The letter urges the government to share the scientific evidence being used to inform policy, rather than acting on the basis of modelling that is being kept secret (Times). The British Society for Immunology publishes an open letter to the government with “significant questions” about the herd immunity plan: “this strategy only works to reduce serious disease if, when building that immunity, vulnerable individuals are protected from becoming ill, for example through social distancing… we don’t yet know if this novel virus will induce long-term immunity in those affected as other related viruses do not”. (British Society for Immunology)

15 March 2020: “When I first heard about this, I could not believe it… my colleagues here in the US… assumed that reports of the UK policy were satire”, notes William Hanage, a professor of the evolution and epidemiology of infectious disease at Harvard University, writing in the Guardian about the UK government’s herd immunity plan. “The UK should not be trying to create herd immunity, that will take care of itself. Policy should be directed at slowing the outbreak to a (more) manageable rate. What this looks like is strong social distancing… All this and more should have started weeks ago.” (Guardian)

EXCLUSIVE COVID-19 SPECIAL INVESTIGATION: Part One – The Politicised Science that Nudged the Johnson Government to Safeguard the Economy over British Lives

Nafeez Ahmed

Mid-March 2020: A Reuters investigation into the government’s response notes that “Interviews and records published so far suggest that the scientific committees that advised [Prime Minister] Johnson didn’t study, until mid-March, the option of the kind of stringent lockdown adopted early on in China”. (Reuters)

16 March 2020: The Imperial College team advising the government publishes a report that predicts “unconstrained, the virus could kill 510,000 people” and “even the government’s ‘mitigation’ approach could lead to 250,000 deaths and intensive care units being overwhelmed at least eight times over”, Reuters reports. “Imperial’s prediction of over half a million deaths was no different from the report by the government’s own pandemic modelling committee two weeks earlier” (Reuters). The Prime Minister urges the public to avoid all unnecessary contact and travel and to not visit pubs and theatres, “following expert modelling which suggests the approach could cut the estimated Coronavirus death toll from 260,000 to 20,000” (Guardian). The Guardian reports on the government’s partial U-turn: “What changed was new data on the impact of Italy’s out-of-control epidemic on its health service. Basically, it is catastrophic, with 30% of hospitalised patients having to be admitted to intensive care” (Guardian). “We have a simple message for all countries: test, test, test. Test every suspected case” and “if they test positive, isolate them and find out who they have been in close contact with… and test those people too”, says the WHO Director General. (BBC News). “While the UK has carried out about 44,000 tests, South Korea had by Saturday tested more than 248,647 people – one in every 200 citizens – and Italy 86,011, including anyone who might have been exposed to the virus, as well as those with symptoms.” (Guardian)

17 March 2020: As of 17 March the Guardian reports “only the UK and Belarus [in the whole of Europe] had held off implementing full or partial closures” of schools. The UK’s schools remain open (Guardian). An open letter organised by Rupert Read is published in the Daily Mail, co-signed by 26 people including former House of Commons Select Committee Chair Ian Gibson, George Monbiot, Chris Packham and Peter Tatchell, urging the government forthwith to institute quarantining policies, compel most firms to ensure workers work from home, introduce physical distancing policies, roll out mass testing and give sick pay to those on zero hours contracts. (Daily Mail)

18 March 2020: “Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, the WHO’s director general, has again called on every country to adopt its recommended strategy. The only way to slow the pandemic sufficiently to give time for treatments and a vaccine to become available is to test everyone who has symptoms and track and isolate their contacts, he said” (Guardian). “The UK’s best scientists have known since that first report from China that Covid-19 was a lethal illness. Yet they did too little, too late”, Richard Horton, editor-in-chief of the Lancet, writes in the Guardian. “Something has gone badly wrong in the way the UK has handled Covid-19… there was a collective failure among politicians and perhaps even government experts to recognise the signals that Chinese and Italian scientists were sending” (Guardian). The Prime Minister announces the ambition of carrying out 25,000 tests per day. 5,779 tests are carried out on 18 March. (Guardian)

20 March 2020: All schools are closed by the government (Guardian). The Prime Minister announces all cafes, pubs, bars, clubs, restaurants, gyms, leisure centres, nightclubs, theatres and cinemas must close tonight (Guardian). Deputy Chief Medical Officer Jenny Harries says “The country has a perfectly adequate supply of PPE [Personal Protective Equipment]” and that supply pressures had now been “completely resolved”. (Pulse)

23 March 2020: The Prime Minister announces a strict national lockdown, with people ordered to stay at home, except for shopping for basic necessities, one form of exercise a day, medical need, to provide care or travelling to and from work if it is absolutely necessary. (Guardian)

24 March 2020: BBC presenter Victoria Derbyshire speaks to the director of a UK company that makes protective equipment who said they’re exporting all over the world but haven’t had orders from the UK government. “We actually offered our services [to the UK government] when this first happened and unfortunately our services wasn’t taken up, but the rest of the world did take it up”, the director notes. (Stefan Simanowitz)

The Coronavirus Crisis: Mistake Over ‘Herd Immunity’ Has Cost Us Vital Time

Mike Buckley, 17 March 2020

25 March 2020: BBC Newsnight interviews Andrew Raynor, CEO of a ventilator manufacturer. “You got in touch with the government as soon as they put out the call for help a few weeks ago. What happened then?”, asks presenter Emily Maitlis. “Nothing quite honestly”, the CEO replies (Stefan Simanowitz). The Prime Minister states “we are going up from 5,000 to 10,000 tests per day, to 25,000, hopefully very soon up to 250,000 per day.” 6,583 tests are carried out on 25 March 2020. (Guardian)

26 March 2020: Speaking about why the government has eased up on what initially seemed to be a concerted contact tracing and quarantining effort, Deputy Chief Medical Officer Jenny Harries tells reporters “There comes a point in a pandemic where that is not an appropriate intervention”, and that the testing focus would shift to patients and health workers (Financial Times). Responding to the WHO’s “message for all countries: test, test, test”, Harries says “We need to realise the clue for WHO is in its title. It is a world health organisation. And it is addressing all countries across the world with entirely different health infrastructures, and particularly public health infrastructures. We have an extremely well-developed public health system… the point there is they are addressing every country, including low and middle income countries.” (BBC News)

1 April 2020: Speaking from isolation in 11 Downing Street, the Prime Minister says “I want to say a special word about testing, because it is so important, and as I have said for weeks and weeks, this is the way through. This is how we will unlock the Coronavirus puzzle. This is how we will defeat it in the end” (BBC News). Interviewed on ITV News Deputy Chief Medical Officer Jonathan Van Tam says that testing “is a bit of a side issue to be truthful with you” (ITV News). The government confirms that only 2,000 people out of 500,000 frontline NHS England workers had been tested for Coronavirus so far – 0.4 percent. 9,793 tests are carried out on 1 April 2020. (Guardian)

2 April 2020: “Dr Chaand Nagpaul, chair of council at the British Medical Association, said the doctors’ union had heard concerns from physicians in more than 30 hospital trusts about [Personal Protective Equipment] shortages… Reports have been rife of shortages and large variations in the level of PPE available. Pictures of healthcare workers who have created their own makeshift protective equipment out of bin bags and other materials have proved embarrassing for the government and NHS leaders. Staff have also improvised masks out of snorkels, bought kit from hardware stores, and used school science goggles to protect themselves” (Guardian). Admitting the government has made mistakes on testing, Health Secretary Matt Hancock announces the government is aiming to carry out 100,000 Coronavirus tests a day in England by the end of April (BBC News). “It is good to finally hear the explanation from the minister of health about the difficulties in scaling up testing. This is down to a lack of preparedness in advance of a pandemic, which then impacts upon the ability to greatly and rapidly increase a national response”, notes Michael Head, a senior research fellow in global health at University of Southampton. (Guardian)

3 April 2020: “Hospitals could be left without enough medical ventilators at the height of the UK Coronavirus outbreak, with manufacturers struggling to build thousands of new machines in time for the likely mid-April peak in cases.” A source tells the Guardian that it was impossible to “produce into the peak… we should have started doing this weeks ago” (Guardian). In a joint press release from the British Medical Association, Royal College of Nursing (RCN), Unite and UNISON, RCN chief executive and general secretary Dame Donna Kinnair notes “Weeks into this crisis, it is completely unacceptable that nursing staff, wherever they work, have not been provided with PPE. I am hearing from nurses who are treating patients in Covid-19 wards without any protection at all. This cannot continue.” (BMA)

Life on the Covid-19 Frontline: Only the Brave

Mark Conrad

5 April 2020: 13,069 tests are carried out in the UK (excluding Northern Ireland) on 5 April (Department of Health and Social Care). The UK has carried out 195,524 tests, in contrast to at least 918,000 completed a week earlier in Germany. (Reuters)

6 April 2020: “The government has been accused of missing an opportunity after it failed to deploy 5,000 contact tracing experts employed by councils to help limit the spread of Coronavirus. Environmental health workers in local government have wide experience in contact tracing, a process used to prevent infections spreading and routinely carried out in outbreaks such as of norovirus, salmonella or legionnaires’ disease… PHE’s [Pubic Health England] contact tracing response team was boosted to just under 300 staff, deemed adequate for the containment phase of handling the Covid-19 virus up to mid-March… tracing was scaled back when the UK moved to the delay phase of tackling Coronavirus in mid-March… in Germany, thousands of contact tracers are still working – with more being recruited”. (Guardian)

7 April 2020: “Lack of personal protective equipment continues to be a critical issue. It is heartbreaking to hear that some staff have been told to simply ‘hold their breath’ due to lack of masks”, says Dr Samantha Batt-Rawden, president of the Doctors’ Association UK (Guardian). “World-leading disease data analysts have projected that the UK will become the country worst hit by the Coronavirus pandemic in Europe, accounting for more than 40% of total deaths across the continent. The Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation in Seattle predicts 66,000 UK deaths from Covid-19 by August, with a peak of nearly 3,000 a day, based on a steep climb in daily deaths early in the outbreak” (Guardian). “Leaked recordings of a Home Office conference… reveal that the Government has all but given up in its fight against the Coronavirus and is intent on simply finding ‘a method of managing it within the population’. The recordings show Home Office Deputy Science Advisor Rupert Shute stating repeatedly that the Government believes ‘we will all get’ COVID-19 eventually. The call further implied that the Government now considers hundreds of thousands of deaths unavoidable over a long-term period consisting of multiple peaks of the disease.” (Byline Times)

8 April 2020: The UK reaches the highest number of recorded daily deaths from Coronavirus: 938 (Guardian). The government’s published figures are certainly an underestimate, as they exclude those dying at home and in care homes (Times), as well as the likely large increase in indirect deaths (“excess mortality”) resulting from a significant drop in the number of people attending A&E (Independent) and the unavailability of doctors, beds and vital treatment for those suffering from other conditions besides Coronavirus (Guardian). The UK media coverage of the crisis however is dominated by none of this but rather by the Prime Minister’s own hospitalisation. (ITV News)

10 April 2020: The U.K. reaches a new record high, of 980 recorded daily deaths from Coronavirus from those tested and dying in hospitals. This number is higher than any daily maximum recorded in Italy (or any other European country) during the entire pandemic to date, and places the UK’s per capita death rate from Coronavirus as probably the highest in the world (European CDC/Twitter). The BBC news coverage leads with Boris Johnson sitting up in bed and taking short walks, and on the Government’s alleged “Herculean” efforts to secure enough PPE for the NHS frontline staff who are becoming infected with COVID-19 in record numbers (BBC/Twitter).

This timeline will be updated periodically

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[valmos]

Scooby-Doo and Scrappy-Doo (first format) 1-16 and end thoughts. See myself next year.

Episode 1: The Scarab Lives!

Monster: The Blue Scarab

Interests: I never had a problem with Scrappy as a kid, but I didn’t love him either. Going to be interesting to see how my perception has changed. This intro, if you asked me to describe it just two seconds prior, I would be clueless, but a second in and it all came rushing back so fast that I have blunt force trauma. Scooby,  Shaggy, and Scappy eat a mango malt, well Scooby eats Shaggy’s. Velma, Daphne, and Velma are eating banana sundaes. (Scappy’s voice is not the one I remember and it is throwing me off) Romeo Jewelry. A gargoyle is falling on Scappy, cut to commercial.  Scrappy makes a trap. Scooby falls in it, predictably. The Blue Scarab tries to legit murder Scooby, Shaggy, and Scrappy. Shaggy screams out, “Fred! *slightly higher pitch* Velma! *Pterodactyl screech* Daphne!” Scappy looks really weird running all fours... Scooby can draw fairly well, or it was just the means for a gag, hard to tell. 

Episode 2: The Night Ghoul of Wonderworld

Monster: Nightghoul of London

Interests: The gang at a knock off Fantasy Island. Velma’s fantasy is to solve a case with Sherlock Holmes. The place is operated by robots and they are off to Londonworld...so it is also like that Westworld movie, and puts the name of this, Wonderworld into context. they pass through Prehistoricworld (I think they use a shot from the Godzilla cartoon as a close up of a dinosaur), Outlawworld (cough). Velma fangirls when meeting roboHolmes.  Velma wears a deerstalker  (I think that is what the hat is called). Night Goul chases after the three Ss and ends up in the water, only taking plot damage to make it able to hurt humans. Velma solves the case she was here to solve. Scooby splits a robohorse in two. Scooby  and Shaggy eat some fish and fries, Scooby eats most of Shaggy’s, causing Shaggy to eat newspaper. 

Episode 3: Strange Encounters of a Scooby Kind

Monster: Alien 

Interests: Scooby and Shaggy are tired of hiking after five minutes (same), so Scrappy stops and cooks steaks for them.A police chase ruins the steaks. Shaggy mentions Luke Skywalker, Mark Hamill played a voice in ... I forgot even what series it was, but he was a VA on a past Scooby episode. Scrappy traps Velma, Daphne and Fred. Daphne tries to give Scrappy a kiss to forgive him but he runs off to catch an alien. Scrappy volunteers Scooby, Shaggy and himself to be bait.   

Episode 4: The Neon Phantom of the Roller Disco!

Monster: Neon Phantom

Interests: Gang is in Hollywood to see the premier of “Hair Grease Fever”. (That is a mashup) They  get lost and see a rock group called Nightmare. Mystery Machine license plate, AC 712. 

Episode 5: Shiver and Shake, That Demon's a Snake

Monster: Snake Demon

Interests: Snake Demon looks more lizard. The gang is in Haiti. Scappy has an alarm set to wake him up at midnight to get a snack, he is his uncle’s nephew. Scooby and Shaggy make a sandwich, which Scappy eats. (Scooby gets a dose of his own medicine). The gang is in Miami. Scooby and Shaggy are charter members of the ACA, America Cowards Association. They have a handshake. Scrappy make another trap and catches Scooby and Shaggy. Scrappy eats an entire devil’s food cake. Gang is in New Orleans. It so happens a Mardi Gras parade is happen. Velma dresses as a police officer. Snake Demon dressed as a clown, really terrifying unmasking.

Episode 6: The Scary Sky Skeleton

Monster: Sky Skeleton

Interests: The is going to go see Wendy, Daphne’s high school girlfriend, (Probably girl friend, but well Daphne is now bi/pan. You can’t stop me.) Wendy is a stunt pilot.  Scooby laughs at Shaggy’s joke and then says he doesn’t get it, this is a running gag in Pup Named... i think. Scrappy traps Scooby and Shaggy, but actually somewhat helps them. 

Episode 7: The Demon of the Dugout

Monster: Dragon Beast

Interests: Gang is in Japan, to watch international baseball, but they are late... also this was possible the last game of the series... why are they just arriving in Japan? Shaggy and Scooby in a taxi, “At least  we are safe till morning.” Monster on top of  baseball stadium, “You are not safe anywhere” I don’t know which I have a harder time believing... that he heard Shaggy from at least 100 feet up, or that he then swung from the top of the stadium to the roof of the moving taxi without making noise alerting those inside. Scappy makes a trap, Scooby and Shaggy are trapped. 

Episode 8: The Hairy Scare of the Devil Bear

Monster: Demon Bear ... erm  Devil Bear after the opening

Interests: Grand  Canyon vacation. Chuck Hunt... that is a dangerous name.. Shaggy and Scooby take sandwich break, Scrappy eats it. Shaggy has a coward’s handbook. 

Episode 9: Twenty Thousand Screams Under the Sea

Monster: Sea Beast

Interests: Beachwear. Gang is in Mexico. They are here to watch a cliff diving competition. 

Episode 10: I Left My Neck in San Francisco

Monster: Lady Vampire

Interests: The gang is visiting Alcatraz. Daphne isn’t feeling well. Shaggy and Scooby think Daphne might be the monster.Shaggy orders one giant sized pizza heavy on the garlic. Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy eat it. Scrappy makes a trap and catches Scooby and Shaggy. But in trying to free Scooby and Shaggy, he catches her, but then lets her go. Monster wore an old lady disguise over her vampire one.

Episode 11: When You Wish Upon a Star Creature

Monster: Star Creature

Interests: Velma is excited to go to the observatory. (There was a little more, but I accidentally reloaded the tab and I don’t want to watch the episode again)

Episode 12: The Ghoul, the Bat and the Ugly

Monster: Shadow Creature 

Interests: Horror movie reward show, everyone is in costume. Velma has a new voice... even though she will only be around a few more episodes (:(). Scooby thinks Shaggy turned into a werewolf. Scooby and Shaggy try to make a snack, but the monster interrupts. (Gosh this Velma... her VA is just off in the acting and like the mixing is different from everyone else.) Scrappy traps Scooby and Shaggy.

Episode 13: Rocky Mountain Yiiiii!

Monster: Ghost of Jeremiah Pratt

Interests: Winter cloths. Scrappy gets offended being called cute and wants to fight. Scooby laughing, “I don’t get it,” again. “Ghosts don’t knock,” Shaggy says.. despite ghosts having knocked plenty of times, even in this series in episode 7. Normal trap, Scrappy ruins it. 

Episode 14: The Sorcerer's a Menace

Monster: Ghost of the Great...wizard, I can’t make out the name. Ardane? 

Interests: Shaggy gets saltwater taffy, Scooby steals it, Scrappy steals and eats it. Scrappy gets upset at being called cute, again. Normal trap, ruined by Scrappy. (I don’t think the Mystery Machine was in this episode?)

Episode 15: Lock the Door, It's a Minotaur!

Monster: Minotaur

Interests: The gang is in Greece. Scooby and Shaggy bounce on the monster’s lap... Scraopy sets up a trap, he catches a bystander, who he has been harassing a few times this episode. Scooby eats some stuffed grape leaves, and is going to eat Shaggy’s but Scrappy eat them first. Shaggy has an American Cowards Club credit card. I  wonder the American Cowards Association feels about Shaggy being a member to both? Oh a maze. Shaggy and Scooby eat (and steal) olives. No Mystery Machine.

Episode 16: The Ransom of Scooby Chief

Monster: None. Just some kidnappers.

Interests: (Hello 80s!) The gang is in New York city, where Scrappy grew up. (Velma, Daphne, and Fred drops Shaggy and the dogs off at the start of the episode.. is this how they are going to leave Fred and Velma..) A Tony and Carl recognize Scooby-Doo as someone famous, and can’t believe they are two dogs like that. Scrappy secret whistle to one of is puppy pals, Annie, this also alerts Duke. They are also talking dogs. Shoplifting is a CRIME sign. Scooby just walks into the kidnapper’s truck. Shaggy jumps in while chasing the truck. One of the kidnappers calls Hollywood to get ransom for Scooby.. What? Three dogs in a trench coat. “Hand over my Uncle before I hand over my fist!” A puppy saying she will use her feminine wiles... Scrappy trap, foils Shaggy and Scooby’s escape plan for like the fourth time. Pups are captured. (Oh good the rest of the gang does show up for the ending) 

End Thoughts: Despite remembering the intro, I remembered nothing of these episodes. Like I remember the monster design of the Minotaur and the Star Creature and that is it. Scrappy wasn’t that bad, in this at least (I still probably would have preferred it without him). I can see him being annoying, with his arrogance, ignorance, and boundless energy, but like he is a child in a show without character development. And his love and adoration (even when misplaced) for his uncle is sweet. 

I think Scrappy’s biggest flaw is one the has effected the entire gang since their return in 1976, and I know this is going to sound weird, but he lacks depth. Like in Where Are You and (to a lesser extent) New Movies there were small things that expanded on the base of the characters and sell the gangs friendship and built chemistry, even if it was throw away or plot convenience (Like Velma having Shaggy’s cold medicine in the first episode. or Shaggy having a spare pair of Velma’s glasses). It is really something subtle with the writing that has been missing, like it feels like the gang is only together because the plot says they are. And while you can pull on the past for the gang to have some depth, you can’t for Scrappy. 

All that said, it isn’t really required to make the show enjoyable, but it would have helped. Like I am still enjoying myself, even though I felt creativity was a down this season, and Fred, Daphne and Velma felt shoved to the side a lot (soon to be shoved off entirely). 

[engineercity]

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Charging ahead

Charging technology is absolutely crucial to the success of any electric machine. Oliver Johnson talks us through the current state-of-the-art

As the dust settles after the Extinction Rebellion climate change protests brought road traffic in central London to a standstill in April, there has never been more attention on greenhouse gas emissions and their impact on climate change. Adoption of electric vehicles (EVs) will be vital to bringing emissions under control, particularly in the 19 countries around the world that have made a commitment to become carbon neutral by 2050, including the UK, France, Canada, Denmark and Spain.

But one challenge to the widespread adoption of EVs is the need for suitable charging points to remove range anxiety.

Most charging points today are domestic points that supply alternating current (AC) straight from the grid. It needs to be converted to direct current (DC) to charge the battery.

To do this, EVs have an AC-DC converter but because space is limited inside car bodies, these are quite small, so the power capacity is limited to 7-11kW for most cars. If you’ve got a car with an 80kWh battery, such as a Jaguar I-PACE, Audi e-tron or a Tesla, it could take 8-12 hours or more to fully charge the battery.

That’s fine for a domestic setting but we know drivers want much faster charging times at other sites – which is possible with DC chargers. These roadside units house large and powerful AC-DC converters that provide anything from 20–350kW, which can charge a large vehicle battery to 80% of capacity in under 15 minutes.

ABB has developed use cases that determine the most appropriate power rating for any particular site.

At the low end, homeowners are best off with a 3-22kW AC solution that provides a steady charge over 4-16 hours and doesn’t require them to upgrade their incoming supply.

However, for offices and commercial buildings, hotels and hospitality sites, car dealerships and commuter car parks, drivers expect to stay from one to threehours and 20-25kW DC charging power is acceptable.

The next level up is 50kW for 20-90 minute stays for sites such as supermarkets, restaurants and truck stops on the motorway. And the very highest power sites deliver charge in under 20 minutes for drivers at motorway service stations and convenience stops in city centres and the suburbs.   We are already seeing the deployment of DC charging infrastructure on highways. For example, Electrify America is deploying hundreds of high-power charging stations around 17 metropolitan areas in the US, as well as up to 120 miles apart along national highway corridors to overcome the range anxiety of car buyers. In the UK, the Ionity consortium of OEM car manufacturers is doing the same – its first site in Maidstone, Kent went live at the end of May. Others, such as Fastned, have already opened their first UK site.

What about large vehicles?

We’re also seeing deployment of high-power chargers for bus and truck fleets. In many ways, local bus services are the most suitable form of transport for EVs. They have predictable routes and operators can optimise routes and bus specifications with a relatively small battery that requires charging little and often – therefore freeing up space for passengers.

The technique of opportunity charging can provide these small and regular top-up charges throughout the day. As a result, buses do not have to return to the depot for recharging – meaning that 24-hour bus services are possible.

With opportunity charging, buses receive high power charge from an overhead pantograph that descends from a mast at the roadside. When a bus arrives at the stop, its WiFi connects to the charging point and triggers the pantograph to engage. Charging only takes a few minutes then the bus is ready to go back round its route.

Opportunity charging stations are based on exactly the same technology as DC charging points for cars, with the only difference being the automated overhead connector.

There are already many examples around the world. A fully electric and autonomous bus supplied by Volvo is in service at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore. Heavy vehicle chargers deliver 300kW DC power while passengers mount and dismount.

These type of charging masts can serve whole fleets of buses, such as in the Swedish city of Gothenburg, where a new fleet of 30 fully electric buses is set to enter service in October 2019, with power from opportunity charging stations at three stops along their route. In the UK, the market town of Harrogate is already operating three pantograph units in its bus depot to support buses running over long hours on eight routes. Birmingham Airport is due to start installing the same equipment to serve all-electric Volvo shuttle buses to transport passengers and staff to car parks.

However, trucks are also getting in on the act in anticipation of new ultra-low emission zones in major cities. Truck manufacturers are developing electric versions of their trucks and vans to meet demand from operators who want to avoid punitive fees for driving diesel powered vehicles in city centres.

What is inside a DC charger?

The AC/DC power converter is the main electrical component and typically comes in a modular format. These build up to deliver the desired rating.

However, the best approach to creating an EV charging point is to start with a really good processor and fast data connectivity – the ‘brains’ –  and build the power conversion ‘muscle’ around that.

This approach provides a seamless experience for drivers – for example, handling payment data and the electronic ‘handshake’ that happens when you plug a vehicle in. But it also lets the owner and operator of the charging point keep an eye on its performance from a remote control centre. It can give insight into the popularity of different sites, as well as the performance of converter modules, for example by raising alerts to send a technician if a converter module needs to be replaced.   The true test of any technology in the field comes over time. In the case of EV charging points, they will need to withstand extremes of summer heat, winter cold, rain and snow, as well as mechanical wear and tear.

As the main support series to the ABB FIA Formula E Championship, the Jaguar I-Pace eTrophy Championship is a test-bed for the cars and their chargers in the most extreme conditions.

The high-power chargers used for the series contain identical components to the roadside technology, although they are repackaged in an air-freight enclosure so they can follow the series to 10 races around the world. Once in place at a circuit, the chargers must work perfectly, whether in the heat of Saudi Arabia or at the Jaguar Land Rover Ice Academy in Arjeplog in Sweden.

According to Chris Crump, Southern Europe Operations team leader for Jaguar Land Rover: “The ABB chargers at the Ice Academy are one of the most northerly of all DC charging infrastructure across Europe, and it is one of the most remote and coldest installations on the planet. The stations have been designed to perform in extreme conditions, from -35°C to 55°C.”

Where does the future lie?

Car manufacturers are actively developing cars with bigger batteries for longer range, with one example being Porsche’s first fully electric car, the Taycan, which is due to go into production in 2020.

The industry is very much focused on lithium-ion batteries. Although there has been a lot of discussion about other types of battery with higher energy densities, these are the subject of research and development for now. But when they are available, they will inevitably enable vehicle manufacturers to further extend the range of their vehicles – and this will only drive further demand for DC fast charging stations.

Oliver Johnson is development manager for EV charging at ABB

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Source: engineerlive.com