#its been charged 13% and as soon as he gave it to me it went . 12 . 11.

[lokiinmediasideblog]

Not to go there. But marvel can't shoe white ppl crunched in a cube but are able to show a black guy getting spaghettified and blood and guts going everywhere. (I know its jonathan majors and hes a dixk but still)

I definitely see your point, but I feel like the cube would be more messy and gorier than the spaghettification and time-slipping PG or PG-13 horror we've been shown. At least in my imagination... Take solace I imagine those white people going through worse. And well, I will go on tangents thanks to this ask.

NGL, I've been trying to not get attached to Jonathan Majors's characters because the recent news I've seen regarding the DV case, leads me to believe he's using Depp tactics (I keep seeing claims that the alleged victim accused him and pressed charges when in fact she wanted the charges dropped (from texts)). And most of the claims that clear him from wrong-doing were put out by HIS LAWYER and the claims have been contested, and there's allegedly other victims, and that video were he breaks up a fight seems like an obvious PR stunt. And I don't want to dedicate this blog to that case because I tired out following the 2022 Depp v. Heard case and lost what little faith I had in the judicial system.

S2 was filmed before the allegations. Despite the case, I still got sad Victor Timely got taken so soon, and I was like, they actually gave him and Ravonna nuance! Because the optics of a Black men ruining a white woman's life and the white woman having justification to kill him did rub me the wrong way in S1.

In S2, I was like, it seemed like it was fixing that by giving him nuance and making him endearing and showing that's he's different (another use of an allegory and how variants being seen as the same person can apply to a wide umbrella of marginalized communities and the worst being assumed of some variant archetypes). And the line from Miss Minutes when she "died" saying "You will never be him." Would have more impact. So HE BETTER COME BACK FOR PLOT REASONS. Then again they'll probably all come back somehow. Hopefully.

And while Ravonna is evil for cubing people lol (I just think she's neat), in the context of the show, she's not particularly or unusually evil, because we got Dox (Who puts Thanos to shame), FUCKING MISS MINUTES, Mobius (and the way he treated Loki in S1 and we can assume variants as well), Loki himself, and while Sylvie was justified, she did incinerate a bunch of TVA agents. I was worried they'd make two Black characters the most evil mustache-twirling villains with no depth, but Ravonna just reminds me a lot of Thor 1 Loki.

Anyway, there has lately been a weird trend of casting Black people as villains, usually of the authoritarian kind instead of the usual queer-coding. And I am wary of it.

My main complaint of S1 was Dox and the timeline pruners taking a stand against Ravonna. Like bitch, you're worse than fucking Thanos! I'd have liked it better if they'd all joined to show how corrupt the TVA is.

I feel like I went in a tangent. I just have a lot of critical thoughts about this show even if I like it.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 3-4

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Jessamine Lochlin was a slim, elegant woman that seemed as given to nonsense as an Elizabethan spinster. It was a terribly deceptive look, because as soon as someone at the door told her Parker was there she came charging through the main atrium and squeaked in delight to see the thief. "Iggy!"

"Jess!"

They greeted each other like delighted teenagers, much to the bemusement of Nate and Sophie. Parker introduced her as curator to the Sokolov collection, on loan from the Tetryakov Gallery and on its way to the MET, where Lochlin was actually based.

Sophie stepped forward when Parker turned to her and Nate, a nearly imperceptible Russian accent coloring her voice, her tone warm, her posture shifting to project an aura of calm, implacable serenity. "Ekaterina Yegorov, critic, collector. Independent curator, and absolutely delighted to see Sokolov's works finally seeing the international adoration they deserve."

"Right?" Sophie had readily struck true, and Lochlin puffed up in delight, Minnesota suddenly speaking loudly in her brogue. She was obviously willing and able to gush over a favorite topic, so Nate stepped in. "Nathan Ford. Former insurance, currently independent security."

"Oh, do you work with Iggy?" Lochlin's handshake was warm and solid, and she seemed not at all put off.

"Casual acquaintances," Nate assured her. Parker made friends outside their work so rarely that the rest of the team readily went out on a ledge just to make sure she kept the few she did make; the mastermind was no exception. "But when we heard there was a Sokolov collection on display, we might have imposed on her," he added conspiratorially.

Lochlin laughed. "Iggy's the reason it's here," she admitted to them in the same tone. "Without her contributions to our security systems, I'm not sure either the MET or the Tetryakov Gallery would have agreed to it." She escorted them through the gracious spaces and murmuring crowds along the rooms and galleries, chatting away with both Parker and Sophie. Nate, used as he was to ceding the spotlight, saw no problem with it. It gave him an excellent chance to take the measure of Jessamine Lochlin, not just as curator but as a potential asset.

And, maybe, as Parker's friend. Surely he could be excused being a little bit protective of his people?

Which was very much what Sophie was doing, except she was coming to actually like Lochlin. The young woman was exactly who she said she was, exactly what she presented herself to be. Young, certainly, but sure of her knowledge, devoted to it. If her interests had run to different goals, she would have had the ruthless devotion to become a fine politician. As it was, all her focus was on her charge and what it took to keep it safe, while also making it available to the viewing public.

Sophie also didn't miss the way Lochlin's spine went to a rigid steel bar as they passed by the broad doorway leading to the Dutch gallery. To the curator those empty frames weren't a slap to the face, but a punch to the gut she'd not been able to counter. Yet.

A room on the topmost floor had been set aside for the nine pieces the Tetryakov Gallery had been willing to part with. They were, for the most part, large pieces, portraits of young women and boys. One painting of Sokolov's wife had place of pride and a hushed crowd of admirers, perhaps to the chagrin of the many young nobles and royals depicted elsewhere. But then, the artist's love shone through his craft on that piece as it did none of the others.

Sophie left Lochlin and Nate bemoaning the misery that was insuring and securing traveling collections. Or, for that matter, prying a loan from any other gallery and museum, the better to spread its beauty. She and Parker roamed, with some measure of discretion, to one of the largest and less watched pieces.

"I thought Sokolov mostly did portraits," Sophie murmured.

"It is a portrait," Parker protested quietly. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, but -" Sophie looked up at the piece. It had been recently restored, at least partially, its colors vibrant. "Look around, Parker. Sokolov was a technical painter. Very skilled, but his real strength was his mind. He knew he was good at one thing and did wonders with it. Most of his portraits don't engage the whole subject like this. There's a reason Tetryakov never loans out his group portraits, they're too rare to risk. I'm astonished they were willing to part with even this."

"They had a good reason," Parker replied, looking only a little smug. There was, indeed, nothing the Tetryakov would not do to have two of their treasures restored to them so they could remove the replicas they'd been discreetly replaced with to save face. And Parker really did like Jess.

Before them, a woman sat in severe opulence for the artist. She was older, her hair an elegant silver bun pinned with delicate silver combs. She was stern, her features sharp and deeply Slavic, her eyes fiery in a way most painters would have never been able to convey. She wore a gown fitting for the nobility of Solokov's time, dark and rich green velvet with russet and gold accents. The embroidery on it had been painted with such exquisite attention to the detail of it that it seemed entirely possible, if Sophie were to reach out and touch it, she would be able to feel every singular stitch. Ironically for someone of such obvious wealth and importance, chickens danced on the hem of the woman's skirt, and peasant boots peeked under it. One hand, gloved in exquisite black lace, rested on her lap; the other held a gnarled cane, wood made dark and smooth with use.

She was also not alone. Behind her, standing, one hand on her shoulder, was a younger man, much too young to be a husband and far too old to be a son. He had the same sharp features, though in him they sharpened to make him look vulturine, nearly predatory. His black hair was tied back severely, rather than the artful curls most people preferred to showcase when they were being painted; his moustache and beard were nothing but angles. His cravat was so white it seemed to shine, in sharp contrast with the ferocious black of the rest of his clothing. Astonishingly, for a portrait, the thinnest smirk curled up one side of his mouth. His eyes were so green they seemed not real, the visceral tint of them matched only by the elegant brooch he wore, half-hidden under the lapels of his jacket.

"Charming," Nate murmured just over her shoulder. "Do you think he ran out of every other color but green?"

She scoffed. "It's so unlike his other work, don't you think?"

"I'm not much for Russian portraitists," he admitted. "Where did Parker go?"

"I think she and Jessamine are planning their next heist." When he glowered mildly at her she persisted. "No, really, apparently that's how it works, they plan a heist and then beat it. I'm not sure even I could break into this place any longer."

"Sophie, you could break into anywhere you liked, as long as someone told you you shouldn't."

"Aw, flatterer." She bumped affectionately into him. "Is this her, then?"

Nate stepped back and focused solely on the painting. Aside the obvious technique of it, and the elegance of a master of his craft, it was a portrait like any other. "It's as close as we're gonna get until Hardison gets a full composite," he admitted, picking up his phone and taking a quick snapshot while Sophie covered him.

"Well, if you're done breaking the law, this is still a fine collection of Sokolov art and I want a look," she declared primly and meandered off.

"Alright." He sent the picture off to Hardison and stared at the painting, his mind whirling. Who are you?, he asked the woman in the picture. Was she behind the attacks? A target of them? Her presence at fourteen sites put her well past the point of being an innocent bystander, but that still left the how, the why, the who. So many questions, so many variables. Even beyond the measure of any case they'd ever taken, this one promised to be a headache and a half, and for no discernible win. Even getting Fedorov in his pocket might not be payout enough.

So he stared at the picture, and let his thoughts run away in fractals, as they always did, asking questions he didn't even have words for just yet.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A familiar voice said by his side. "Pyotr Sokolov was a master."

"Mister Fedorov. You're late."

The Russian smiled. He wore a cashmere turtleneck and a contrasting jacket, casual slacks and what looked suspiciously like very fancy steel-toed boots. "I have been meaning to make time for the Sokolov collection, but I am a busy man, mister Ford." They both stared at her. "She doesn't quite look right," Fedorov mused.

"I wouldn't know, we didn't get a full composite," Nate admitted.

To his surprise, the Russian's grin widened. "Ah. How many screens have you lost?"

"One." Nate considered Fedorov's words. "So far. You?"

"Two full rigs, three more screens." Vanya admitted readily. "But then, I am also a very stubborn man." His humor faded. "I do not make the… accusation I made yesterday lightly, mister Ford."

"I don't believe in that sort of thing."

"I was raised in what is still a very empty, very wild forest in my homeland. I believe in much most people dismiss as fantasy."

"You grew up in Vladivostok."

Fedorov looked amused. "No, I moved to Vladivostok and made sure to make it look as if I'd lived there all my life. The problem with converted electronic documents is that you must convert from something, and paper is a very… pliable medium."

"Still don't think you should be confessing crimes to me."

"Mm, perhaps not," the Russian admitted, turning his attention back to the portrait. "But it still looks wrong."

Nate, having taken the opportunity to truly focus on the painting, had to agree. Much like Vanya, he couldn't put his finger on it, though. Was it the proportions? The colors? Maybe the restoration process wasn't finished? Was it - ?

"He got the nose wrong."

Both men turned. On Nate's other side was a stately, elegant woman, severe and stern. She wore an exquisite black dress stitched with black embroidered and accented with tiny pearls. The buttons of her jacket were silver, in the shape of tiny bones. Her hair was the palest silver, exquisitely done up in a fanciful bun secured with a black comb.

She had spoken in Russian, and continued doing so. "He was painting from memory, as most portraitists do. So, you know. He only got the nose wrong."

Nate stared at the woman.

The woman stared at a portrait for which she could have readily been the model if not because, unlike the painting, she had no sharp, longish nose. Her nose was quite normal. She even wore a touch of make-up, which the woman in the painting had completely eschewed. Her eyes were wintry, an icier blue than even Fedorov's. "I rather like the touch of the chickens," she declared.

"Isn't it just wonderful?" Sophie chose that moment to return, Ekaterina Yegorov's soft Russian burr firmly back in place. "It looks like you could reach out and feel how soft the stitching is." She let the words linger for a moment. "Painted like a man who never had to wear one of those dresses in summer."

Every eye turned to her, but it was the older woman who spoke first. "Spoken like a woman who has," she said in accented English. "Who are you, lovely child? What do you do here?"

"Ekaterina Yegorov, art critic, collector and independent curator."

"Goodness, that sounds exhausting," the older woman declared tartly. "Three jobs and all of them involve you trying to get a man to listen to the expertise you have and he does not. How strong a spine you must have."

Unbidden and unexpected, Sophie felt a frisson of pride go up Ekaterina's spine at the praise.

"She looks upset," Parker, behind Nate's other shoulder, declared stoutly.

"That's just the portrait," Nate corrected her. "They always strive for a neutral expression."

"But she doesn't look neutral, she looks upset," Parker persisted.

"Why would she be upset?" Sophie asked, trying to be rational.

"Because she's stuck with an asshole," Fedorov stepped neatly into the conversation.

All four of them turned to look at him. He shrugged blithely and gestured at the painting. "Look at him. The smirk, the posture. Everything about the man screams 'asshole'. If I had to sit and keep my peace waiting for that to stab me in the back, I'd be upset too."

The older woman burst out laughing. It was brief, and it barely made a sound among the hushed conversations, but it was real all the same. She promptly covered her mouth. "Oh, the cheek of you," she chided Vanya in Russian.

"I was born with a mouth," he replied cheerfully. "It seems a shame not to use it."

Nate opened his mouth. A moment earlier he'd had not enough questions about the case; suddenly he had too many, and was having trouble choosing one. The woman's presence seem too provident, too perfect. He wanted to ask who she was; he wanted to know what she knew about the painting; he wanted to know why she was there.

He turned.

Just past the doorway the man in the painting, down to the stitched black embroidery on his long coat and the hawkish nose, was just strolling out of sight.

The mastermind blinked.

Heavy shutters suddenly slammed shut over the two windows and the doorway with a terribly final sound, trapping a little under two dozen people in the room with nine of Pyotr Sokolov's portraits. Gas began to pour into the room, and a faint scent began to fill the air.

People screamed, as they're wont to do when the unexpected slams into their lives.

Someone began to cough.

"What is that?" Fedorov demanded.

"The fire suppression system?" Sophie sounded very dubious.

"You don't sound certain."

"I'm not."

"She's not," Nate confirmed.

"It's not," Parker declared, looking around frantically for escape routes she neither needed nor had.

"What is it, then, if not the fire system?" the Russian demanded.

"It is the fire suppression system," Nate explained hastily. Several people were banging on the shutter that had come down over the open doorway. "But argonite is odorless. This smells like, like…"

Several more people were coughing.

"Flowers," Parker all but snarled.

"Perfume," Sophie was keeping close. The gas kept piling up.

"Fernflower," the older woman choked out and began to cough sharply.

"Why hasn't the alarm gone off?" Vanya demanded, rushing over to hold up the older woman when the wracking cough folded her in half.

"Because there's no fire," Nate replied.

"Which is a problem," Sophie added, on the woman's other side.

"Yup. Parker, pick me a lock."

"I can try, but I might set off an alarm -"

Sophie, shoving Ekaterina aside for a moment, leaned close enough to whisper, "Sweetie, that'd be a really good thing right now."

"Oh. Right. Because we're not actually stealing anything." Parker lunged at one of the shuttered windows.

"Why not the door?" Fedorov protested mildly.

"Because there's two more shutters behind that one, this one only has one more," Parker replied didactically, ripping open a discreet panel that had looked, until that moment, like nothing so much as a few light switches. She looked up expectantly, and growled when nothing but the hiss of gas and scattered coughing filled the pause. She began to jab her lockpicks, having gotten them out of god-only-knew-where, into the circuit panel she'd revealed.

Sophie was moving through the crowd, getting people to climb up on the benches, away from the quickly pooling clouds of gas. The Russian bodily picked up the older woman and set her on one of the benches. She let out a startled little wheeze but didn't complain. "You said this is an argonite system, Ford. They are not dangerous to humans."

"Normally, yes," Nate agreed, dialing on his phone. "Very safe. When there's a fire to put out. I'm betting the system's not currently detecting the oxygen content of the room, either, so it's going to keep going until there's either no argon in the tank -"

"- or no oxygen in the room," Sophie finished for him.

"We're in one of your accidents, Fedorov." Someone finally picked up his call. "Hardison."

"Nate, got your picture, what's up?"

"We're trapped in a room in the Gardner Museum with a broken argonite supression system," the mastermind told the hacker calmly.

"What?!" Back at the loft, at that tone, Eliot's head came up like a hound scenting blood.

"Never mind that," Nate gestured impatiently. "Can you lock down the rest of the building?"

"Uh…"

"Fast. I think the man who did this is still in here."

Hardison sprinted for his console, throwing his phone on the work desk. Eliot picked it up and put it on speakerphone. "Nate."

"Eliot, call emergency services. A few people here are having trouble breathing already."

"Are you good?"

The mastermind didn't even hesitate. "Oh, yes, we're fine. I'll be even better if you catch that man in here with us." As if on cue, an alarm began to shrill, high and piercing, and Parked looked confusedly victorious. Whatever she'd done didn't stop the gas, though. One of the shutters on the nearest window rolled back up with a snap, revealing a steel grate and the Venetian-style window beyond it. "Parker, did you and Lochlin get around to updating the windows yet?"

"No," she replied. Immediately guessing what he meant, she threw herself to one side.

"Fedorov."

The Russian didn't hesitate. His gun was in his hand in a single, smooth motion, and he fired at each pane of glass amidst screams. The reinforced glass cracked under the first impact, and most of the panes shattered under the second. He finished what was left with a third shot until the gun clicked on empty. Gas poured out and blessedly fresh air poured in. Parker slid back to the control panel and got back to work.

A second, bellowing alarm kicked off somewhere beyond the shuttered door. "Place is locked down," Hardison told Nate. "I hope it was fast enough."

"So do I. Do you have eyes on the place?"

Hardison was staring as every screen on the wall came to life, several providing multiple feeds. "Live feeds everyw-"

"No! No, not live! Record everything, not live, Hardison, not -" Nate heard something explode tinily on the other end of the line. "Hardison?!"

Two heads peeked up from behind cover at the screen that had just lost most of its upper right corner, the rest of it flickering madly. "We're fine," the hacker replied numbly. "Um."

Nate sighed.

The second shutter rolled up. Parker hefted herself up on the windowsill and kicked at the frame until there was a section clear of glass that she could grip to try and force the window open. She fought the damn thing up an inch, then another.

"In the name of expedience," Fedorov stalked up to her, shrugging off his jacket, "may I assist?"

Parker made room for him. He folded over his jacket to give them both a larger area of leverage. They pushed at the heavy frame as hard as they could.

There was a word echoing in Nate's mind, and he couldn't dislodge it. He couldn't see his question past it. He couldn't hear anything under the whispering weight of it.

Fernflower.

Sophie was talking to him, her voice distant and blurred. The alarms were a tangle of strangling vines around his mind. The phone demanded his attention. People were screaming. People were coughing. People were dying, and he…

He…

"Child."

Profound silence followed the one word. The world went perfectly still. Nate realized he'd forgotten at some point to breathe, and his chest hurt, but he couldn't make himself work the muscles for that one, tiny exercise in staying alive.

The old woman was before him. She looked ashen, her skin threaded with a sickly, poisonous green. But still she reached out a hand and so very gently brushed his chest. "Child," her voice was kind, "be calm."

The window relented at last with an almighty crash and a third, older alarm joined the other two.

Nate felt a rush of soothing cold wash over him. The alarms got shoved aside as the inconsequential noise they were. The coughing people would get help; Eliot probably had half the emergency services in the Boston Metro area coming, and it being the Isabella Gardner in distress would likely summon the other half. All they had to do was survive the runaway suppression system for the next few minutes.

"Nate?" Sophie clung to him as if she were afraid he would fall down. Mainly because for a moment there the mastermind had looked like he was about to fall down.

"Ford!" Fedorov called out.

"Nate, there's no fire escape!" Parker shouted over the mingled roar of the alarms.

"What?" He and Sophie rushed to the window, only to discover it was true: the familiar steel structure was missing altogether.

Nate turned. "Then we go up. Parker, you first. Then me. Fedorov, you hand us the people. Sophie will keep them calm for you."

Before Vanya could say anything Parker had slithered out and her feet were disappearing over the not-too-distant rim of the roof. "I do believe you are confessing crimes to me, Ford," he pointed out mildly, watching the thief vanish with impossible grace.

"Allegedly," Nate replied without missing a beat, following Parker up, who was fuming somewhat.

"Getting out from up here's going to be even harder, you know," she pointed out distractedly.

"Not stealing anything, Parker," he reminded her, kneeling by the edge and calling out. "We're set!"

Vanya and Sophie escorted the older Russian woman to the window. She was gasping desperately for breath. "Grandmother," he told her respectfully, "I'm afraid I have to get very handsy with you."

"Oh, that's alright," she patted his arm lightly, and managed a strangled little smile. "I have not been manhandled by a handsome young man in a very long time. It will be thrilling."

The enforcer had to grin back at that, before he bodily picked her up and hauled her out of the window, lifting her where Nate and Parker could take her outstretched hands.

"How's that, breathing better?" the mastermind asked her as they helped her step onto the roof.

"Yes, thank you."

"Yup. Don't go anywhere," he told her casually as he reached out for the next person. He had so many questions for the woman he didn't even know where to begin.

"Child, it is a rooftop," she laughed around another bout of coughing. "Where would I go?"

One by one they brought everyone out of the room. Before they'd got a handful of people out the police already had the museum surrounded. By the time half the visitors were out, someone had discovered the access to and from the roof had been welded shut. By the time everyone was out and the fault in the broken suppression system was finally fought into compliance, fire engines had been maneuvered closer and ladders were being extended.

And the old Russian woman was nowhere to be found.

Eliot brought the car around and waited just past the crush of the gawking mob, trying not to hover like an overprotective dragon. His people simply sauntered away until one of them was intercepted.

"Ford," Fedorov said quietly.

"Fedorov."

"Do I have more than your attention now?"

Nate was seething inwardly at losing the woman, apparently into thin air, and having the unknown man in black slip through their grip, likely by mere seconds. He kept it hidden with his usual ease. "That was some nice shooting."

The Russian enforcer smiled thinly. "I wear body armor. I expect everyone else to do the same. When they do not I am pleasantly surprised. When they do it still does not matter."

Nate nodded; that did explain how the man had punched through most of the window panes. "Is it going to be worth it, stealing the police reports for this?"

Vanya paused. "I will send you the ones that matter," he offered.

Nate nodded. "Fedorov," he called out when the Russian walked away. "Do you know what the woman said about the gas, in there? What it smelled like?"

"She said it smelled like fernflower."

"I don't know that flower, do you?"

Fedorov looked faintly amused. "You are wearing it, Ford."

Nate looked down, startled; he was not in the habit of wearing a pocket square, let alone flowers. He pressed a hand over the bright crimson spray of tiny blooms tucked in his jacket pocket and watched the Russian walk away, trading casual greetings with the cops.

"Nate?" Sophie came up to him, having belatedly realized they'd left him behind.

"Sophie, do you still have that friend at the London Botanical Gardens?" Nate plucked the flowering stem out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingertips.

"Percy? Yes, he's a sweetheart. Keeps asking me to be a peer on his mycology paper."

"Do you think he could look something up for you if you overnight it?"

FOUR

"Fernflower's not real."

Nate considered these words, delivered with careful solemnity by Sophie, while staring blankly at the box of Indian take-out in front of him. Eventually, he gestured lightly. "I held those flowers, Sophie."

"I know."

"You held those flowers, when we packed them up for shipping."

"I know, Nate."

"They were real."

"They absolutely were."

Nate exhaled sharply. It wasn't often the team saw such a gesture of frustration from their mastermind, but at every turn something kept popping up that insisted on derailing the carefully logical pathways of his mind. "So what you're saying is -"

"What I'm saying is that Percy can't identify them. Nate, the London Botanical Garden can't identify this flower! The entirety of his staff is up in arms. They've sent inquiries to Cairo and Beijing. Beijing, Nate! He hasn't talked to Xi Jian since the orchid debacle!"

Nate had a strong feeling that he didn't want to know what the orchid debacle was.

"It's a plant," Hardison protested.

"No, it's not just a plant," Parker argued. "It's a magic flower, obviously."

Nate didn't have the energy to try and deal with that.

"Yes, ok, but" Hardison wasn't about to hit that particular trap, "it's a plant. It can't be hard to figure it out, yeah? We map people's DNA these days at the corner store, it's easy."

"Anything but," Eliot countered placidly, setting an empty container aside. "Plants are the most flexible organism on this planet when it comes to DNA. We can only pass it down, parent to kid - plants can do it sideways."

"Sideways," Hardison stared at him.

"Yup.They steal it. See something a neighboring plant can do and snag it for their own."

"Plants steal?" Parker looked deeply intrigued.

"Yup." He grinned a little when the team stared at him. "Dated a botanist once. Kinky woman. My point is, it's very easy to create a hybrid, and from there create a mutant, a whole new species. The hard part's always been making it do what you want it to do, like the potato, instead of having it do whatever."

"Well, my point is, Percy's never seen it before, he's never even seen anything remotely like it." Sophie groaned, putting her curry down a little more forcefully than she meant. "Ugh, he's never going to leave me alone now, he'll think I did it on purpose. Send him a brand new plant that he can put his name on."

"Yeah, where a botanist's concerned you might as well have sent him a marriage proposal," Eliot teased her, got a napkin thrown at his chest. He grinned wickedly at her, but quickly grew serious. "Mechanical fault again," he declared, clicking his remote to activate one of the screens on the wall. "On paper the insurance company's claiming the valves overheated and locked into an open position. I snuck in, took a look at it." It hadn't been hard to join the slews of people going in to do clean-up, once Hardison had counterfeited the clearances for him. What he'd found had left the hitter grinding his teeth in both confusion and offense; while not a Boston native, Eliot understood the value, both artistic and emotional, of a place like the Gardner Museum. It had been bad enough to have his team caught in the crossfire of whatever mess the Russians had in their hands; that the perpetrator hadn't cared about the art on the line was getting to be just as upsetting, to say the least.

"Those things were melted." He'd taken pictures of the entire fire suppression system. "That whole system had nickel-copper heat exchanges. I've seen nuclear plants more likely to have a meltdown. And…"

"And?" Sophie prompted him when he hesitated.

Eliot stared down at the table, seeing nothing. He was, he felt, as reasonable as a man in his position, having lived the sort of life he'd lived, could be. He knew he was profoundly fortunate to have found a family, dysfunctional as it might be, that had his back, no questions asked. He knew he would go to the wall for any of them without hesitation.

But in the basement of the Isabella Gardner Museum the hitter had found a place where he didn't know if he dared ask them to follow. "I found this down there," he admitted at last, his voice carefully neutral. He clicked the remote until he came to a specific photo.

Everyone stopped eating.

"Is that a handprint?" Sophie asked, stunned.

"Yeah."

"On the outflow valve?" Hardison demanded.

"Yeah."

They stared at the very clear print on the metal. It looked as if someone had gripped it and squeezed, and like warm wax, it had been reshaped.

"There's no wriggle," Sophie murmured.

"Or blur," Nate added, just as thoughtful.

It was Eliot who explained for the other two. "When you grab something hot, your first instinct is to jerk your hand away, right? Hot metal, metal that's gone so hot it's soft, won't let you do that. It clings, it tries to hold onto you."

"So when they did that," Hardison tipped his head at the screen, "they should have messed up the print."

"Right."

"But they didn't."

"Did they just… leave their hand there?" Even Parker looked vaguely aghast.

"Sure looks like it." Eliot flicked the photo away; the vague sense of disorienting confusion he'd felt when he'd first seen the print was returning.

"Wait!" Nate suddenly focused sharply. "Wait, go back. Go back to the tanks."

Eliot obeyed. "Why, what's wrong? I'm not familiar with argonite systems, they're too new to be common, but nothing looked out of place."

"Nothing's out of place," Nate replied thoughtfully as he stood up, restless. "I'm not looking at the tanks, I'm looking at the valves." He'd been looking for reasonable discrepancies, and for a moment he'd been almost delighted to find one, until the numbers had made sense. "Argonite systems are simple. Blend argon with something, nitrogen in this case, smother the fire without smothering the people. Now, argon, nitrogen, both, something else, if you replace all the oxygen in a room with it, you kill both the people and the fire, right?"

"Right," Eliot agreed.

"So why tamper with both the valves when just the one would do? There's no reason to fiddle with the nitrogen, but someone did." He pointed at the screen. "They shut it off. Completely." He stared at the picture. "That's not the original tank, either."

Eliot stared thoughtfully at the picture. "That's a new tank," he suddenly declared. "One of the guys on site was fiddling with his toolbox when I went by. Bet you anything the insurance people told him to replace it on the sly."

"So where's the old tank? Did you take pictures of the tanks in storage?"

"He didn't, I did." Hardison was already putting them up on the screen.

"It seemed safer that way. Place was hot as hell, someone was going to start asking questions if they caught me going around to too many places."

Nate nodded. The pictures were stills from a security camera, showing shelves, boxes, cylinders -

"Nate," Sophie murmured.

"I see it." On a lower shelf was a small silver cylinder, much tinier than all its siblings. It had none of the typical cautionary symbols or identifiers; instead it was covered in writing that not one of them could recognize. Nate picked up his remote and enlarged the picture, focused on that spot.

A small number on the bottom of the screen began to inch up, and the screen let out a quiet little beep, no louder than a microwave. Hardison lunged forward, snatched the remote out of Nate's hand and turned off the screen altogether, leaving the mastermind blinking. "No! Nuh-uh. You're not blowing up another one of my screens!"

"I wasn't gonna -!"

"I am a man of science, Nate. You know that, everyone knows that, right? And that," Hardison pointed at the black screen, "is how it's begun every time. We focus on something, someone, and the tech actually cannot keep up. Two screens, Nate!"

"Fedorov blew up three," Sophie murmured.

"What?!"

"And two rigs."

"WHAT?!"

"It can't be just because of a picture -"

"I don't care what it is," Hardison declared impatiently. "I care what it's doing, and that would be overclocking my systems until they literally explode. My systems, Nate. Hacking into the Pentagon didn't overclock them. Hacking into the Interpol databases didn't overclock them."

"You hacked Interpol?" Eliot looked pleasantly surprised at this news.

"Incidental!" the hacker exclaimed. "I don't believe…!" He took a deep breath and spoke in a less irritated tone. "Nate, I don't believe in hinky stuff. You know that. I believe in what's real, what's here. I know something's doing this to my gear. I don't know what it is, yet. I just know it's there. Until I figure out what it is, and how to bypass it, this is what I can do."

Nate stared at the hacker, who looked levelly back at him.

"Why can't it just be magic?" Parker asked sedately.

"Magic's just science that no one's explained yet, Parker," Hardison replied gently. "That's the problem. You can't fight a rocket with a rock. I need to know what it is, I need to understand what it is, before I can work around it."

The team watched her take in those words and then nod thoughtfully.

Nate rubbed at his face. "Magic." The word was loaded with all the scorn a rational man could load upon it.

"Nate, do you have a problem with the concept or with the fact none of us is a, a…. a 'magic' specialist?" Sophie asked with utmost calm.

"Both," he admitted, then glanced at Hardison. "Though a paradigm shift helps a little with the first."

Hardison shrugged. "Hey, man. Big old monolith was just a computer."

"I've been involved in too much weird stuff," Eliot said carefully, "not to accept that there's things going on on this rock that I can't explain. Doesn't mean there isn't an explanation, just that I don't know it yet."

Sophie gestured elegantly. "I do magic on a daily basis," she said mildly. "I've been accused of that a few times, every time I'm done with a mark. That aside, wouldn't it be nice, wouldn't it be fun, to know there's a little bit of something wild and dangerous and unique in the world, like magic?"

"It would help," Nate burst out with tight control, "if we didn't keep calling it that."

"But it's Baba Yaga!" Parker protested. "That's magic, isn't it?"

"It's - Parker, why are you so hung up on this Baba Yaga thing?"

She blinked at him. "Who wouldn't be? A grandma that gives you gifts and prizes for being clever and tricky and mischievous? Who eats bad guys? That sounds like an awesome grandma."

Nate didn't sputter, but it was a close thing. Sophie and Eliot grinned.

"Parker, she eats people," Hardison protested.

Parker was polishing up her food. "There's people who deserve to get eaten," she shot back pragmatically.

Nate put his hands out. "Are we taking the job?"

The room went silent.

"They came after us, Nate." Eliot's voice was frighteningly even. "I do not like it when people come after us, even if it's by accident."

"They came after my museum," Parker muttered.

"I am dying to know how they keep blowing up my screens," Hardison admitted.

Nate looked at Sophie, who nodded minutely. He drew in a deep breath.

Magic's just science that no one's explained yet.

"Ok. We can't leap ahead, so we're going back. Eliot, Parker, we need that cylinder. Hardison, see if hard copy explodes, too. Print out the info, we'll just have to slog through it the old-fashioned way. Sophie." He ground his teeth minutely before sighing in defeat. "Do you know any 'magic' specialists?"

"No," she admitted readily. "But I know of one. He's even for hire." When Nate scoffed, her tone sharpened. "Nate, if you want the help, you're going to have to respect that the man's probably a professional in his field, just like we are. I don't know if he's the real thing, but he might be all we've got."

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Call him up."

"I can't, I don't know the man, I just know of him, and I don't feel comfortable chatting about Baba Yaga with a stranger over the phone."

"What, do you want to go talk to him in person?"

"Yes!" She gestured pointedly at the black screen.

Nate drew in a vast breath, held it, hissed it out. "Fine. Where is he?"

"Chicago."

"Alright. Let's go hire us a wizard."

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

9th June >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Genesis 3:9-15 'I was afraid because I was naked, and I hid'.

The Lord God called to the man after he had eaten of the tree. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden;’ he replied ‘I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.’ ‘Who told you that you were naked?’ he asked ‘Have you been eating of the tree I forbade you to eat?’ The man replied, ‘It was the woman you put with me; she gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What is this you have done?’ The woman replied, ‘The serpent tempted me and I ate.’ Then the Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this,

‘Be accursed beyond all cattle, all wild beasts. You shall crawl on your belly and eat dust every day of your life. I will make you enemies of each other: you and the woman, your offspring and her offspring. It will crush your head and you will strike its heel.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 129(130)

R/ With the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord, Lord, hear my voice! O let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleading.

R/ With the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption.

If you, O Lord, should mark our guilt, Lord, who would survive? But with you is found forgiveness: for this we revere you.

R/ With the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption.

My soul is waiting for the Lord. I count on his word. My soul is longing for the Lord more than watchman for daybreak. (Let the watchman count on daybreak and Israel on the Lord.)

R/ With the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption.

Because with the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption, Israel indeed he will redeem from all its iniquity.

R/ With the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption.

Second Reading 2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1 We are being trained to carry the weight of eternal glory.

As we have the same spirit of faith that is mentioned in scripture – I believed, and therefore I spoke – we too believe and therefore we too speak, knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus to life will raise us with Jesus in our turn, and put us by his side and you with us. You see, all this is for your benefit, so that the more grace is multiplied among people, the more thanksgiving there will be, to the glory of God. That is why there is no weakening on our part, and instead, though this outer man of ours may be falling into decay, the inner man is renewed day by day. Yes, the troubles which are soon over, though they weigh little, train us for the carrying of a weight of eternal glory which is out of all proportion to them. And so we have no eyes for things that are visible, but only for things that are invisible; for visible things last only for a time, and the invisible things are eternal. For we know that when the tent that we live in on earth is folded up, there is a house built by God for us, an everlasting home not made by human hands, in the heavens.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation John 14:23

Alleluia, alleluia! If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him. Alleluia!

Or: John 12:31,32

Alleluia, alleluia! Now the prince of this world is to be overthrown, says the Lord. And when I am lifted up from the earth, I shall draw all men to myself. Alleluia!

Gospel Mark 3:20-35 A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand.

Jesus went home with his disciples, and such a crowd collected that they could not even have a meal. When his relatives heard of this, they set out to take charge of him, convinced he was out of his mind. The scribes who had come down from Jerusalem were saying, ‘Beelzebul is in him’ and, ‘It is through the prince of devils that he casts devils out.’ So he called them to him and spoke to them in parables, ‘How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot last. And if a household is divided against itself, that household can never stand. Now if Satan has rebelled against himself and is divided, he cannot stand either – it is the end of him. But no one can make his way into a strong man’s house and burgle his property unless he has tied up the strong man first. Only then can he burgle his house. ‘I tell you solemnly, all men’s sins will be forgiven, and all their blasphemies; but let anyone blaspheme against the Holy Spirit and he will never have forgiveness: he is guilty of an eternal sin.’ This was because they were saying, ‘An unclean spirit is in him.’ His mother and brothers now arrived and, standing outside, sent in a message asking for him. A crowd was sitting round him at the time the message was passed to him, ‘Your mother and brothers and sisters are outside asking for you.’ He replied, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking round at those sitting in a circle about him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. Anyone who does the will of God, that person is my brother and sister and mother.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[psychic-refugee]

A few new developments…Shitshow 1 might be in some legit deep shit if she released those photos.

I have posted previously that the accusers may not ever see a suit from him because they literally aren’t worth it.

For the CSAM, I was really hands off because I hadn’t seen the photos, I didn’t see the original tweet spreading them, and didn’t have any of the facts. Perhaps it was my naivety, but I had assumed two things. 1) these images had been made as a “gift” to a girlfriend of his. 13 is really young IMO, but I was like, ok that’s the world we live in these days, and I didn’t actually know how old he was in the photos. 2) I thought the first instance of the pics being shared online or the police made aware was recently.

In general, I thought how it went was PHW gave these pics to a GF. The GF maybe shared with someone as a “OMG, look what PHW gave me, should I send him mine?” So, someone in that friend group more or less kept the pics because…??? Pics go from friend to friend bc kids are dumb and have no real sense of consequences yet, then they somehow made their way to Shitshow 1. My assumption was that an actual friend had leaked those pics, hopefully without malice, and Shitshow for her own reasons didn’t want to bust them out. So, she made up the “chatroom” excuse.

I am of the belief the reddit post was her, and so maybe she had also secretly posted on the other website hoping someone would recognize him and point it out for her.

I was of the opinion that PHW wouldn’t waste his time because he’d have to press charges and then go through the whole ordeal of verifying/giving testimony of when those pics were taken and who he shared them with. If he pressed charges, then it’s his and the Crown’s burden to prove that the pics are indeed CSAM.

The pics were already taken down off the one website and I thought more or less scrubbed from Twitter piecemeal as soon as the images were reported. I didn’t think he would get restitution, again the accusers are broke. He makes more acting and networking, so perhaps he hoped he could just wash his hands of this once the circus ran its course.

Even if police want to press charges, it’s hard to get a conviction if the victim in question won’t cooperate.

Now we have new facts.

I’ve seen posts where his mother (whom I would call a reliable fact witness) says neither was the case. The reality was that he was victimized, and the police had been involved several years ago.

Why would this matter? It matters because the police already have on record PHW’s age and victimization. These photos are probably in a CSAM database and have been since he was 13 (late 2014ish). PHW isn’t needed to establish anything and may not even need to attend court at all. The court will already know these images are for sure CSAM.

There are also special task forces continuously tracking down known CSAM, so the police might have been on Shitshow’s trail from the get go. As soon as they’re alerted that a known CSAM has surfaced, they get a warrant to monitor your shit to track it down and see if you have more. See generally Josh Duggar case.

Because of the nature of CSAM and how nothing can truly go away on the internet, the courts aren’t going to make the victims show up every time they bust someone with the shared material. Unfortunately, some CSAM is very well known and “popular.” They have the facts and can proceed without the victims.  

If he doesn’t have one already, then at most PHW would give a Victim Impact Statement via letter and the judge will read it out loud and take it into consideration when sentencing. Given the absolute shitshow Accuser 1 made of the whole ordeal and how bad she looks, I have high doubts the judge will be lenient to her.

We also have to question how Shitshow got her hands on these if he had only given them to someone who had catfished him.

I think we can agree the whole “chatroom” excuse is bullshit.

I think some really shady shit has gone down, like maybe someone gossiped about his victimization and then someone might have gone to the dark web to find them kind of shady shit.

We’re talking about photos that are ~8 years old with limited people who would have had them or even known about them.

Shitshow 1 made up the origin of those pics for a reason.

Chica Shitshow…you have some explaining to do.

I say this with utmost seriousness, sincerity, and the deepest belief that everyone deserves to be rigorously and genuinely defended in court…you need a lawyer.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Josiah rules

1 Josiah was 8 years old when he became king, and he ruled for thirty-one years in Jerusalem. 2 He did what was right in the Lord’s eyes and walked in the ways of his ancestor David, not deviating from it even a bit to the right or left. 3 In the eighth year of his rule, while he was just a boy, he began to seek the God of his ancestor David, and in the twelfth year he began purifying Judah and Jerusalem of the shrines, the sacred poles, idols, and images. 4 Under his supervision, the altars for the Baals were torn down, and the incense altars that were above them were smashed. He broke up the sacred poles, idols, and images, grinding them to dust and scattering them over the graves of those who had sacrificed to them. 5 He burned the bones of the priests on their altars, purifying Judah and Jerusalem. 6 In the cities of Manasseh, Ephraim, and Simeon, all the way up to Naphtali, he removed their temples, 7 tore down the altars and sacred poles, ground the idols to dust, and smashed all the incense altars throughout the land of Israel. Then Josiah returned to Jerusalem.

Josiah repairs the temple

8 In the eighteenth year of his rule, after he had purified the land and the temple, Josiah sent Azaliah’s son Shaphan, Maaseiah the mayor of the city, and Joahaz’s son Joah the secretary to repair the Lord his God’s temple. 9 When they came to the high priest Hilkiah, they delivered the money that had been collected in God’s temple by the levitical gatekeepers from Manasseh, Ephraim, and the rest of Israel, as well as from Judah, Benjamin, and the residents of Jerusalem. 10 They handed it over to the supervisors in charge of the Lord’s temple, who in turn paid it to those working on, repairing, and restoring the Lord’s temple. 11 They then gave it to the carpenters and the builders to pay for quarried stone and lumber for rafters and beams in the buildings the kings of Judah had neglected. 12 The men worked conscientiously under the supervision of Jahath and Obadiah, who were Levites descended from Merari, and Zechariah and Meshullam from the Kohathites. The Levites, all of whom were accomplished musicians, 13 were also in charge of the laborers and all the workers, no matter what their jobs, while some of the Levites served as scribes, officials, and guards.

The Instruction scroll

14 While they were bringing out the money that had been brought into the Lord’s temple, Hilkiah the priest found the Instruction scroll that the Lord had given through Moses. 15 Hilkiah told the secretary Shaphan, “I have found the Instruction scroll in the Lord’s temple.”

Then Hilkiah turned the scroll over to Shaphan, 16 who brought it to the king with this report: “Your servants are doing everything you’ve asked them to do. 17 They have released the money that was found in the Lord’s temple and have handed it over to the supervisors and the workers.” 18 Then the secretary Shaphan told the king, “The priest Hilkiah has given me a scroll,” and he read it out loud before the king.

19 As soon as the king heard what the Instruction scroll said, he ripped his clothes. 20 The king ordered Hilkiah, Shaphan’s son Ahikam, Micah’s son Abdon, the secretary Shaphan, and the royal officer Asaiah as follows: 21 “Go and ask the Lord on my behalf, and on behalf of those who still remain in Israel and Judah, concerning the contents of this scroll that has been found. The Lord must be furious with us because our ancestors failed to obey the Lord’s word and do everything written in this scroll.”

22 So Hilkiah and the royal officials went to the prophetess Huldah. She was married to Shallum, Tokhath’s son and Hasrah’s grandson, who was in charge of the wardrobe. She lived in Jerusalem in the second district. When they spoke to her, 23 she replied, “This is what the Lord, Israel’s God, says: Tell this to the man who sent you to me: 24 This is what the Lord says: I am about to bring disaster on this place and its citizens—all the curses written in the scroll that they have read to Judah’s king. 25 My anger burns against this place, never to be quenched, because they’ve deserted me and have burned incense to other gods, angering me by everything they have done. 26 But also say this to the king of Judah, who sent you to question the Lord: This is what the Lord, Israel’s God, says about the message you’ve just heard: 27 Because your heart was broken and you submitted before the Lord when you heard what he said against this place and its citizens, and because you ripped your clothes and cried before me, I have listened to you, declares the Lord. 28 I will gather you to your ancestors, and you will go to your grave in peace. You won’t experience the disaster I am about to bring on this place and its citizens.”

When they reported Huldah’s words to the king, 29 the king sent a message and gathered together all the elders of Judah and Jerusalem. 30 Then the king went up to the Lord’s temple, together with all the people of Judah and all the citizens of Jerusalem, the priests and the Levites, and all the people, young and old alike. There the king read out loud all the words of the covenant scroll that had been found in the Lord’s temple. 31 The king stood in his place and made a covenant with the Lord that he would follow the Lord by keeping his commandments, his instructions, and his regulations with all his heart and all his being, in order to fulfill the words of the covenant that were written in this scroll. 32 Then he made everyone found in Jerusalem and Benjamin join in a similar promise. The citizens of Jerusalem lived according to the covenant made with God, the God of their ancestors. 33 Josiah got rid of all the detestable idols from all the regions that belonged to the Israelites, and he made everyone who lived in Israel serve the Lord their God. As long as Josiah lived, they didn’t turn away from following the Lord God of their ancestors. — 2 Chronicles 34 | Common English Bible (CEB) Common English Bible Copyright © 2011 by Common English Bible. Cross References: Genesis 46:11; Exodus 10:3; Exodus 32:20; Exodus 34:13; Leviticus 26:30; Deuteronomy 13:4; Deuteronomy 28:3; Deuteronomy 28:15; 1 Samuel 13:20; 1 Kings 13:2; 2 Kings 7:10; 2 Kings 18:18; 2 Kings 22:1-2; 2 Kings 22:12; 2 Kings 22:14; 2 Kings 22:18; 2 Kings 23:1; 2 Chronicles 29:2; 2 Chronicles 29:8; 2 Chronicles 30:10; 2 Chronicles 33:4; Nehemiah 8:1; Psalm 18:21; Isaiah 39:8; Jeremiah 22:9; Jeremiah 25:3; Jeremiah 36:21

[lordgodjehovahsway]

1 Kings 21: Naboth Refuses To Sell Ahab The Vineyard God Gave His Ancestors

1 Some time later there was an incident involving a vineyard belonging to Naboth the Jezreelite. The vineyard was in Jezreel, close to the palace of Ahab king of Samaria. 

2 Ahab said to Naboth, “Let me have your vineyard to use for a vegetable garden, since it is close to my palace. In exchange I will give you a better vineyard or, if you prefer, I will pay you whatever it is worth.”

3 But Naboth replied, “The Lord forbid that I should give you the inheritance of my ancestors.”

4 So Ahab went home, sullen and angry because Naboth the Jezreelite had said, “I will not give you the inheritance of my ancestors.” He lay on his bed sulking and refused to eat.

5 His wife Jezebel came in and asked him, “Why are you so sullen? Why won’t you eat?”

6 He answered her, “Because I said to Naboth the Jezreelite, ‘Sell me your vineyard; or if you prefer, I will give you another vineyard in its place.’ But he said, ‘I will not give you my vineyard.’”

7 Jezebel his wife said, “Is this how you act as king over Israel? Get up and eat! Cheer up. I’ll get you the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite.”

8 So she wrote letters in Ahab’s name, placed his seal on them, and sent them to the elders and nobles who lived in Naboth’s city with him. 

9 In those letters she wrote:

“Proclaim a day of fasting and seat Naboth in a prominent place among the people. 

10 But seat two scoundrels opposite him and have them bring charges that he has cursed both God and the king. Then take him out and stone him to death.”

11 So the elders and nobles who lived in Naboth’s city did as Jezebel directed in the letters she had written to them. 

12 They proclaimed a fast and seated Naboth in a prominent place among the people. 

13 Then two scoundrels came and sat opposite him and brought charges against Naboth before the people, saying, “Naboth has cursed both God and the king.” So they took him outside the city and stoned him to death. 

14 Then they sent word to Jezebel: “Naboth has been stoned to death.”

15 As soon as Jezebel heard that Naboth had been stoned to death, she said to Ahab, “Get up and take possession of the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite that he refused to sell you. He is no longer alive, but dead.” 

16 When Ahab heard that Naboth was dead, he got up and went down to take possession of Naboth’s vineyard.

17 Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah the Tishbite: 

18 “Go down to meet Ahab king of Israel, who rules in Samaria. He is now in Naboth’s vineyard, where he has gone to take possession of it. 

19 Say to him, ‘This is what the Lord says: Have you not murdered a man and seized his property?’ Then say to him, ‘This is what the Lord says: In the place where dogs licked up Naboth’s blood, dogs will lick up your blood—yes, yours!’”

20 Ahab said to Elijah, “So you have found me, my enemy!”

“I have found you,” he answered, “because you have sold yourself to do evil in the eyes of the Lord. 

21 He says, ‘I am going to bring disaster on you. I will wipe out your descendants and cut off from Ahab every last male in Israel—slave or free. 

22 I will make your house like that of Jeroboam son of Nebat and that of Baasha son of Ahijah, because you have aroused my anger and have caused Israel to sin.’

23 “And also concerning Jezebel the Lord says: ‘Dogs will devour Jezebel by the wall of Jezreel.’

24 “Dogs will eat those belonging to Ahab who die in the city, and the birds will feed on those who die in the country.”

25 (There was never anyone like Ahab, who sold himself to do evil in the eyes of the Lord, urged on by Jezebel his wife. 

26 He behaved in the vilest manner by going after idols, like the Amorites the Lord drove out before Israel.)

27 When Ahab heard these words, he tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and fasted. He lay in sackcloth and went around meekly.

28 Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah the Tishbite: 

29 “Have you noticed how Ahab has humbled himself before me? Because he has humbled himself, I will not bring this disaster in his day, but I will bring it on his house in the days of his son.”

[innocent-bysitter]

Life is Overwhelming

it feels like I dont know how to stop complaining. I complain about how much I complain. I annoy myself. But this isn't about that. This is about the things I've been complaining about.

How is it that every single time I start getting over some sort of symptom, another one punches me in the face? Maybe I've had this symptom for a while, or maybe it's new, but somehow it's become the focus for the next couple of days. For example; earlier this month I switched medications for mood stabilization, I started by going off my previous one, which, by the way, was working hella good, the only reason I went off it was to stop gaining weight. So I go off it, slowly. I get down to 1 mg (I was on 3 mg) My shitty Intrusive thoughts about shitty bad things start coming back, and soon enough I'm having a breakdown in the living room with my parents like I'm 17 again. I felt like I had moved past that, like I had matured and gotten better. Hmmm, maybe the meds had been working. So I'm off of them and I have a psychiatrist session that day to get a new medication. Like a fucking loser, I get sidetracked sewing (the one time I've actually had the motivation to do this in months btw) and I miss the appointment, it's a good 4 hours before I realize what I've done, but hey! at least I have a cute shirt now! There goes $100 on the missed appointment fee. Cha-Ching! I managed to reschedule the appointment for 4 days later, not realizing I only gave myself 30 minutes to get home from work. Then, on the day of work, I bike in, not thinking that it takes me 47 minutes to get home from work. oops. So lo and behold it's the end of my shift, I get a calendar notification about my appointment, and I realize I haven't even charged my battery, so not only will I be late for my appointment biking home, but my bike will most definitely die on the way. So I ask my managers, somewhat frantically, and manage to secure someone's office for my 15-minute appointment. I get on the call and tell her the issues I've had while being off the meds, which, by the way, are pretty dire. She nods her head and lets me know "Well if you are struggling with any suicidal ideation you should go ahead and call 988" which generally is good advice, but I was kind of hoping for more sympathy or advice or something. That's psychiatrists for you! We've settled on a medication, she calls it in, and I pick it up the next day.

Next Issue: well, I bike home, and there goes my knee.

Lore-Time: For those who know me, you'll know I've had 3 knee surgeries, the first one in 2016 when I was a wee 13 years old. I tore my ACL slipping on wet tile of all things. The second and third in 2018, supposedly playing soccer but I have a feeling it had torn before that. The second one was to clean up the damage from the first one, and then the third to repair the ACL. Since then I've had major knee pain with exercise, shifts in the weather, bending it wrong, standing too long, ect.

I go to the doctor, the same office I went to when I was 13, a different doctor, I wanted someone who wasn't going to call me "Kiddo". He tells me its the cartilage under my kneecap, and he prescribes physical therapy. As I am a creature of habit, I called my physical therapist from the last time I was in physical therapy and I booked an appointment. At my first appointment, she looked at my knee and told me "Your kneecap is in the wrong place, that's what's causing the pain" Great! please fix it! I now have 7 exercises for home and an appointment with her every week. I get told to lay off the biking for a bit. A couple days pass, and I do my exercises. On top of my knee, I'm still struggling mentally.

Next Issue: There's this guy at work, he is flirty, I'm sorta flirty (I feel like I come across as flirty, but I was literally just trying to be his friend), he is sweet, and asks me to the renfaire. I make it clear that I am in general looking for a serious relationship, I've had too many things (problems) with other types of bonds (I catch feelings). He indicates that he understands and continues flirting. Later he tells me that he isn't looking for anything serious, but he likes me and wants to pursue "other things". Me being an impulsive loser who has no respect for myself, I agree. A couple days later, I was approached by another work friend, asking about my love life, I said yeah you are going to have to be more specific, I'm a player (I'm not). We get to talking and they start telling me all these things about our coworker that are kinda shocking and make him seem super sketchy, now I trust this coworker telling me these things because he looks like Ed Sheeran (He is a redhead). But they tell me these things about him trying to look out for me. And so now I'm attempting to ghost him in a polite way. It's stressing me out every time he texts me.

Next Issue: For most of my teenage years to now I've struggled with severe sleep issues. I take two to four hours to fall asleep every night and at least an hour to wake up and get out of bed every morning. I fall asleep in the car, on the train, at work, sitting on the couch, and pretty much everywhere else. I don't hear alarms almost ever, my parents wake me up every morning, and I usually fall back asleep a couple times before I actually listen to them and get up. Not only is this making me late to morning shifts at work, miss appointments, and miss meals, but it's also causing a huge strain on my relationship with my parents, who never thought they'd have to be waking their 20-year-old up with much resistance every morning.

Lore-Time: My parents are awesome, and I appreciate all of what they do, for me, my family, and themselves. They have been with me through all of my mental and physical health troubles and still managed to have time to work full time, raise my annoying but exceedingly cool brother, drive me everywhere because I do not drive, and have a bit of fun here and there.

So finally, after years of struggling with sleep issues, we decided to go to a sleep doctor. He referred me to do a sleep study and my results are perfectly aligned with Narcolepsy type II. YAY!!! part of me is happy to have an answer, the other part of me dreads the word chronic, or when doctors add more medication to my already large pill sorter. And of course, this is one of those things where the primary treatment is medication. But lately, those symptoms feel worse, and the constant need for sleep adds to my depression, where I used to look forward to work, my body chooses sleep to avoid the commute, and the fear of sleeping in and missing work keeps me up. Because maybe I won't miss it if I don't fall asleep. I guess the one thing I don't mind is that I dream almost instantly after I fall asleep, so when I wake up in the mornings and I like a dream, I can fall back asleep and sometimes that dream will continue. The bad part of that is sometimes my brain will ignore whoever is telling me to get up, by prioritizing going back to the good dream.

Next Issue: Not really an issue per se, but I miss my best friend. She is in grad school to become my therapist and she's never not busy and I miss her so much omg. also, she lives an hour and a half away and has no money for gas because she spends all her money on Taylor Swift stuff. I can't even blame her.

I'm sure I have plenty more issues I could share, but that's all for this time. If you read this all the way through: thanks for reading my complaints!

[faaun]

UPDATE ON HOW TODAY WENT W MY CRUSH

[litgwritersroom]

Her Cupid's Bow

👤 Gary - 🎲 Huddle for Warmth -🪐 Friends to Lovers

S2 - Gary/MC - 4700+ words - @mrsbsmooth

Oh deer.

Read on Ao3

“I swear to God, Rennell, if we’re lost, I��ll kill you.”

Gary laughed, shaking his head as their feet crunched on the gravel beneath them. “We’re not lost, we’re somewhere up the back of the deer fields. Just because I don’t know which one doesn’t mean we’re lost. Have a little faith, yeah?”

He shot her his best grin, and Mads rolled her eyes. They had plenty of time before it was dark, and they never really bothered giving Dicky a time that either of them would arrive at his new house. It was how it’d always been; showing up at each other’s houses either unannounced or ‘this afternoon’ or ‘next Saturday.’ It’d been that way since they were 11. 

What was the rush? It was a bright, sunny late afternoon, if not a little on the chilly side, but he regretted bringing his enormous down jacket all the same. He only brought it because Mads would always end up getting cold, and she’d inevitably end up with her feet wrapped up in it while the three of them sat on the couch. 

“Faith, right. Like I had faith when you drove us from Portsmouth to Bath, and we ended up in fucking Wales?”

He scoffed, his mouth hanging open, “There was road works on the M5!”

Mads raised an eyebrow at him. “It happened two years in a row, mate.”

He gave her the finger, and she laughed, pushing him gently into some bushes. 

He kept his balance, sticking his tongue out at her, occupying his mind by walking in comfortable silence beside Mads. 

Plotting. 

He spotted a particularly plush-looking hedge coming up, and bided his time, falling into opposite step with hers. 

And he pushed her into it. Hard.

She screamed as she went almost all the way through it, and he took off in a sprint, roaring with laughter as she freed herself and came bolting after him. 

“I’ll fucking get you, Rennell!”

He was fast, but she was much, much faster, and she had momentum on her side. She took a running leap and kicked his legs out from underneath him, sending him face first into the hedge, leaving a huge dent in it, and making them both tear up with laughter. 

But he had never in 13 years of friendship let Mads beat him.

And now, it was his turn. 

She saw the evil glint in his eyes, and took off, vaulting a fence as she screamed loudly over her shoulder. He almost caught her, but she shrugged him off as she bolted across the open field, looping the back of a giant oak tree. But as she rounded the next hedge, she suddenly stopped. 

“Ha, you fuckin’--” 

But he froze. 

They were face to face with a herd of deer, alert and alarmed, dozens of eyes ready to bolt in the opposite direction. 

And not ten feet in front of Mads, an extremely angry looking stag.

Gary shuffled closer to her, and she squeaked in fear. He didn’t blame her. This stag looked fucking mad. And it was far, far bigger than either of them. 

Gary stayed as still as he could, and slowly tugged Mads behind him, putting his body between her and the stag. She shuffled in, inch by inch, pressing herself into his back, making herself as small as possible. 

The stag took a step toward them, and Gary’s instincts took over. He raised his hands in the air, screaming at the stag, making as much noise as possible as he tried to scare it away. But instead of backing off, it lowered its head, and charged. 

Gary grabbed Mads’ arm, pulling her toward the only possible shelter anywhere nearby - the tree. 

He pushed her up into the lowest branch, and jumped up, but the stag’s antler caught his jacket. He heard a rip, but ignored it, clambouring up after Mads as she climbed higher into the tree. 

As soon as they were high enough, they paused, sitting on a branch halfway up, both shaking like the leaves that surrounded them.

“What the fuck?” Mads gasped. “Why did you SCREAM at it!?”

“It was coming at us!” he spluttered.

“So you screamed at it? It’s a fucking deer, not a tiger!”

“Oh yeah? You seemed pretty willing to let me be your human shield?”

She glared at him, but he didn’t care. He was raging too strongly on adrenaline and her audacity to give a shit about hurting her feelings. His heart was pounding in his chest, his hands scratched from how fast he’d scrambled up the tree. 

“And you’re fucking welcome, for that, by the way,” he spat. 

They sat in silence, not as comfortable this time, panting heavily. 

“Did it get you?” she asked, quietly. “I thought I heard something rip.”

He glanced down, and saw his pocket completely shredded. But other than his ripped jacket, he was fine. They were both fine.

They waited there for a few minutes, before Mads glanced down. 

“Why isn’t it leaving?” she asked. 

“How should I know? What am I, the fuckin’ deer whisper?” he seethed. 

Mads furrowed her brow. “Nah, I think you made that pretty clear already.”

Gary glared at her, annoyed at the fact that it kind of made him want to laugh. Until Mads did an exact imitation of his scream, and he fucking lost it. He roared with laughter, and Mads cracked up so hard he had to hold her steady on their branch. 

Gary glanced down at the stag, and found it madly pacing around the base of the tree, even more infuriated by a second instance of the noise. 

“Fuck, we’ve seriously pissed it off,” he laughed. 

“You’ve seriously pissed it off. It didn’t attack me!”

“You’re the one that hopped the fence!” he laughed. 

“You were chasing me!”

“You spear kicked me!”

“You pushed me in a hedge!” she gasped

He pointed at her. “You pushed me first!”

Mads crossed her arms, sulking, and pouting at him. “Yeah, but you deserved it.”

“And you deserve to be stuck up a tree while a stag tries to kill you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m calling Dicky. Give me your phone.”

“Use yours?”

“I left it at home. Give it.”

He reached into his pocket, and his hand went straight through it. He glanced to the bottom of the tree, and spotted his wallet, phone, and keys in a heap on the ground.

“Fuck.”

Mads groaned. “Fuck. So we can’t even call Dicky for help? We just have to what… wait it out? It’s going to be dark soon!”

Gary shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll get bored soon.”

The stag did not, in fact, get bored soon. 

They had absolutely no fucking idea how long it’d been, but the sun was well and truly down, and judging by his grumbling stomach, it was almost teatime. 

“I’m fucking starving,” he groaned. 

“And I’m fucking freezing.” 

He glanced at her, and opened his arms, and she shuffled closer to him, leaning in for a cuddle like she had a thousand times before. 

It was almost their default position. Most people thought they were dating, which usually prompted a look of disgust, and coordinated vomit sounds from both of them, and an eyeroll from Dicky. Jokes about bickering like an old married couple were a daily occurrence, just like their hangout sessions. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone a day without speaking to Mads. In fact, she was the main reason he couldn’t keep a girlfriend. 

Every girl who met her was suspicious of her, but he had absolutely no idea why. They threw around words like stunning, and the hottest girl I’ve ever seen, and holy shit, who is that? 

And he guessed he got that. Her makeup and hair were always flawless, and her outfits were always amazing. She always put in effort when they were going out, almost like she was showing off. She was the ultimate wingwoman.

But unlike the girls he dated, he always thought of Mads the way she was now; zero makeup, hair thrown up in a bun, in her favourite fleece-lined leggings and the too-big jacket she’d stolen from him years earlier. A part of him would always see her as a gangly pre-teen, just like he’d been once. Acne-covered, awkward, and way, way too into science fiction. She’d changed a lot, that was for sure. But so had he. 

Ever since he’d started in the gym, he’d gone from local loser to absolute fuckboy; the girls forming an orderly queue to try their luck at locking him down. 

But then, he’d introduce them to Mads.  

They’d throw around accusations, starting fights about her ‘flirting’ with him. He really did have a knack for attracting the crazy jealous types. And every time a girl started shit with him over it, he sided with Mads. 

He always sided with Mads.

“Oh, god, you’re always so fucking warm,” she chuckled, as she shuffled into his arms. She never wrapped her arms around him, though, she always liked to be held. To have his arms wrapped completely around her, her shoulders squished into his chest, her head resting just below his collarbone. It was just comfy to stand like that.

It was just their thing that they did.

It pissed off the guys she brought round, too. He’d gotten in a tiff with the last one who’d tried telling Mads not to talk to him. She hadn’t listened, of course. 

She always sided with Gary. 

“Every single time, you’re surprised,” he laughed. “I thought you knew how hot I was.”

“Ew, gag, vomit,” Mads laughed, as she snuggled in closer. “I wish this deer would fuck off, though. If we miss teatime, I’ll rage.”

They would, in fact, be missing teatime. 

Gary had tried a few times to climb down the tree and fetch his phone, but to no avail. In fact, the most recent time had resulted in the stag getting so close that it stepped on his phone, seemingly snapping it mostly in half. 

They were absolutely, positively, stuck.

And just when it couldn’t get any worse, Mads started shivering. 

“Is it just me, or is it way colder than normal tonight?” he asked. 

Mads said nothing. She had that look on her face, and he knew it well. She was worried about something, and the something wasn’t small, so he knew better than to ignore that look.

“Mads… what is it?”

“This is bad, Rennell. We could be in actual danger out here.”

“Uh, yeah, did you not see me almost get disembowled by a –”

Her eyes begged him to be serious, and he sighed. 

“Fine, you’re right. I know you meant the cold. And it can’t even be 8pm yet.”

She nodded. “We’ve both got boots on, and we’re dry up here, but I feel like we should zip our jackets together. At least it’ll give us a little bit more insulation.”

“How?”

“Body warmth.”

He nodded, unzipping his jacket, and she unzipped hers. They zipped her left side into his right, and vice versa, and he immediately felt the warmth from her body radiating into the space between him

She tried shuffling back into him for another cuddle, but her arms had nowhere to go. They wrestled with their positions for a while, before she finally just gave up, and pulled her arms inside their jacket cocoon. 

He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around her, as she snuggled against him.

A beautiful, soft fragrance floated from her hair, and he closed his eyes, smiling at it. Mads’ hair always smelled nice, but this smelled a little different. 

“Did you change your shampoo?” he asked, and she laughed into his chest. 

“Fuck off, you did not notice that.”

“You want hugs all the time, Mads. I can’t help it you’re short and your hair gets in my face.”

Another age went by, and what felt like another bloody five degrees, and his fingers were starting to hurt. 

“My fingers are going numb,” he shivered. 

“Pull them inside here, it’s much warmer.”

She reached down and held the branch while he struggled with his jacket, cursing how much effort he’d put into his biceps that made them so impossible to pull out of sleeves. He eventually got them inside, and Mads recoiled as they touched her. 

“Rennell, they’re like ice!” she gasped, immediately sitting back, and shoving them under her arms. 

“What are you doing?” he laughed, but god, it felt good. 

“Armpits are warmer than most parts of the body. I’m already pretty warm. This’ll warm you up faster.”

But having her sit back so far had created a gap around their middles, and air was quickly flowing in. 

She sighed as he pointed it out. 

“Okay. Well, the other option is this.”

She shuffled forward a little, and lifted her legs over his, sliding herself into his lap and straddling him. 

Mads pursed her lips, and took his hands, sliding them in between both of their thighs.

He hesitated for a second, but sighed. “I’d make a joke about you trying to crack on to me, but it actually is really warm.”

She nodded, and slipped her arms upward slightly, pulling his chest directly to hers. 

Gary froze. 

Not literally, but figuratively, as he felt Mads’ tits pressing into his chest. They were… substantially bigger than he’d ever noticed. And they felt unbelievable. Warm, soft, just the perfect amount of perky and squishy… his fuckin’ favourite. He closed his eyes, willing, begging, pleading with his body to not take notice. 

But the combination of her tits against him, his hands under her thighs, and her sitting on his lap… there was no fighting it. 

He scrunched up his face, and groaned, cursing with embarrassment as he felt it.

And Mads felt it too. 

“Oh my god, Rennell, are you fucking hard?”

He cringed. “I can’t help it!”

“You can help it! Stop… stop it!”

“I am a red-blooded, heterosexual man, Mads. You’re sitting in my lap with your tits pressed against me and my hands between your legs. I would’ve thought you’d be offended if I wasn’t hard.”

Gary chanced a glance at her, waiting for the joking response, but what he found made his eyes widen. 

“Madeline, are you fucking blushing?”

“No!” she gasped. “No, I’m not fucking blushing. Don’t be daft. I don’t blush.”

“You are!” He teased, “Awww, I made you blush, how cute.”

“Shut up. My face is just cold.”

“Come here, then.” He chuckled, pulling her back into his chest. Her tits pressed against him, but she seemed far less awkward about it. She laughed, and snuggled into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. They fell back into a silence, and his body calmed a little, but she took a deep breath.

“Thanks, by the way. For, um, pulling me behind you. You didn’t have to.”

He cleared his throat, and felt his own cheeks warming a little. “Well, yeah. Chivalry and all that. Nan would’ve killed me if I let something happen to you.”

Mads laughed. “Yeah, she’d disembowl you herself.”

They both sighed.

The silence felt awkward now, and his mouth started to panic on its own, desperate to fill the silence with something. Anything.

“Besides,” he grumbled. “I didn’t want you to…”

“What?”

“I dunno, get hurt?”

Mads leaned back, studying his face. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not? I care about you, I don’t want you to get trampled by a stag. You’re meant to die with me, drowning in a beer flood.”

Mads beamed at him, shaking her head.

Another awkward silence, and she chuckled. “Ew, you care about me.”

“Oi, don’t laugh, I’m allowed to have feelings.”

“Oh you have feelings for me now, do you?”

Gary laughed. “Feelings about you, not feelings for you.”

“Awww, shame,” she laughed, snuggling her head into his shoulder. He held her close, his hands around her properly now that they were warm, hugging her tightly. With anyone else, this would’ve been uncomfortable. 

But nothing was uncomfortable with Mads.

Well, one thing was uncomfortable. 

Her head was turned in to his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder, and every time she breathed, her exhale hit him in a sensitive spot right on the back of his neck. 

Every inhale filled with anticipation, as the exhale hit him again and again. Each time, it sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. That, combined with her tits in his chest, had him hard as the trunk of the tree they were leaning against. And yeah, it was quite uncomfortable. 

Gary dropped his head slightly, trying to avoid her breath, but the only thing he could do was turn his head into her neck. But after a minute, he felt her arching her back slightly, as she shuffled a little closer. 

“Are you doing that on purpose?” she whispered. 

“Doing what?”

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Tell me!” he laughed. “What?”

“Just… stop breathing on my neck. Okay?”

The realisation hit him in a wave. “Oh God,” he laughed. “Was it turning you on?”

She punched him as hard as she could given how close their bodies were, which was pretty hard, and he groaned with pain. 

“Shut up!” She groaned. “Just… urgh. Stop it.”

“Why do you think I moved my head? You were doing the same thing to me!”

“No I wasn’t!” She gasped

“Oh yeah, why am I hard then?”

“‘Cause you’d fuck a dead tree stump full of squirrels.”

“None of them around. Try again.”

“Because you want to fuck me, and you always have.”

“Pfffft,” Gary scoffed “I couldn’t fuck you. It’d be weird.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

He hesitated a second, unsure of why the thought of that was so funny to her, or why it hurt his feelings. 

“Why do you care?” he asked, a little annoyed. He didn’t want to tell her, and he was sure she didn’t know. Yeah, he’d thought about her a few dozen times, wondering what it’d be like. But he never acted on it with her, so what was the harm? It wasn’t ruining the friendship for him to picture what Mads would look like wrapped up in his bedsheets. 

She rolled her eyes, looking a little hurt. “Because. I want to know!”

“You want to know what? If I’ve thought about… us? Like you and me?”

“Yeah!”

“Well…,” Gary sighed. But his hesitation said more than any confirmation ever could. She grinned victoriously, and he sighed. “Come on, Mads, you being my mate’s way more important than that. But shit, I won’t lie and say I’ve never pictured it….”

“Yeah, I get you,” she laughed. “I’ve thought about it too.”

She said it so offhandedly that he almost didn’t pick up on it, but it smacked him around like a crane with a broken strap as she snuggled back in to his arms. Gary found himself in contemplative silence as he tried to let it sink in. His heart was absolutely pounding in his chest; stag at their feet be damned, it’d never beat this hard in his life. 

Mads had thought about… it. But the way she’d said the words left him with zero answers on what it was.

Did she mean she’d thought about fucking him? He supposed he had a reputation for being halfway-decent in bed. The mental image of Mads spread out on the bed beneath him sent a pulse of blood rushing south faster than he could stop it. There was no denying it. The girl was fucking hot.

But what if she’d meant… being together together. He was pretty sure he’d never thought about that before. What a terrible idea. They were best mates, and nothing more. Gary & Mads were like fish & chips. Tea and toast. Bed and breakfast. They were a package deal. They did everything together. 

Imagine if he dated Mads, and it went tits-up, and he lost her? He would never forgive himself, and neither would Dicky. Or his Nan. Pretty much the whole of Chatham would disown him if he hurt her, and he did not have a good track record of staying friends with his exes. 

He couldn’t date Mads. 

Could he?

He tried to push it out of his mind, but couldn’t. There was something about it that kept pulling him back. It wasn’t like it’d be different from how they were normally - no one would think twice about them standing around cuddling. He could hug her all he wanted. Kiss her, even. 

The thought of kissing Mads formed a small knot in his stomach.

Oh wow, that was something. 

If they were dating, he could kiss her whenever he wanted. All day, every day. He could wrap her up in his arms, and kiss her, and run his hands through her hair. He could hold her around her waist, and wake up next to her, and hold her hand, and have her smile at him. And he’d introduce her to people, saying ‘this is my girlfriend, Mads.’ His eyes widened as he stared off into the leaves around them, as the words struck him like an arrow, right to the face. Almost as if she could feel things change, she shuffled in closer to him, sighing happily as she pressed her cold nose to the base of his neck. 

It was odd, really, that it would happen here. Up a tree, being stalked by a stag, on a night that felt five times colder than the forecast predicted. 

But he supposed you didn’t really get to choose where you were, the moment you realised you were head over heels for your best friend. 

13 years, 13 years of spending damn near every day with her. And when they weren’t together, they were still together. Calling. Texting. Missing her. Missing being around her. Missing how he never felt like himself when she wasn’t wrapped up in his arms. Their default position. He felt her hand shift, and she pulled back a little, stroking her fingers through the hair on his face as she turned it toward her. 

“What’s on your mind?” she smiled, softly casting her eyes over his face. And he let his fall over hers, too. 

Over the bump on her nose from where she broke it, trying to tackle him. The scar below her chin from when she’d insisted he learn to ride his bike with her on his handlebars. The hairs on one eyebrow that stuck up straight, and always annoyed her. Over the mischievous hazel eyes and glowing skin. The soft brown flecks of freckles across her nose. 

The sharp dip of her cupids bow that he suddenly couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

It would be so easy. 

It would be so easy to love her. 

And right now, it would be so easy to kiss her. 

He rolled his lips together as he stared at hers. Fuck, he wanted to, so badly. But he didn’t even know if that was what she meant. She could’ve been talking about sex. Maybe she’d just been messing around. Maybe she’d…

“Gary?”

And right as he was about to look away, he saw it. There was a light in her eyes that he’d never seen before. Maybe it was just because he’d never spent this long staring into them before, but there was something there. 

Had it always been there? Or had he just not seen it until he’d actually looked?

He didn’t feel her move, but it sudenly seemed like their lips were only centimetres apart. He could feel Mads’ breath on his lips, and he moved so slowly he thought he’d stopped completely. But he hadn’t. 

The corners of their lips met first, so softly it almost tickled. He lifted his hand, cupping her face, and held her steady. 

And he kissed her. 

Her body practically melted into his hands, and even he was a little surprised at how fucking incredible it felt. She fit him like the hoodies they swapped back and forth when they were the same size. She fit him like she fit in to his family dinners.

Thirteen years of friendship. Thirteen years setting the groundwork. Thirteen years of growing, of sanding each others' edges, of bickering and bantering. Thirteen years of shaping and sculpting and fitting.

And not once realising they were already moulded for each other.

Her arms were around his shoulders, exposing their hips to the cold, but he didn’t care. All he could think was her. Her lips, her hair, her legs over his, her waist under his hands, and her tongue flicking his as they wound themselves tighter together.

“Gary,” she whispered. “This is fucking insane, right?”

Her voice was shaky, almost as if she was afraid of the answer. His stomach flipped, and he swallowed, hard.

“No,” he whispered.

He took a deep breath, willing himself to have the courage to say it out loud. He pushed every memory he had with Mads to the back of his mind. Every beautiful, beautiful fucking memory, knowing the next words he said could risk it all if she didn’t feel the same way. “It’s not insane, Mads. Not to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been less confused about anything in my life.”

A small, almost shy smile curled on Mads’ face, and she looked up at him how she always did. Every time he’d made her a cuppa. Every time she’d rub his wrist while they watched TV. 

Every time he brought her toast when she was sad.

“In fact, I think I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

He pulled her back in to him, kissing her harder, and she moaned at his assertiveness. She rolled her hips against his, his jeans frustratingly tight, making him gasp with pain and need at how hard she had him.

“Mads!” he groaned, and she burst out laughing. 

“God, I can’t believe we only just figured this out,” she laughed. “It seems so obvious in hindsight.”

He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. “It does. I should thank Bambi for making it happen.”

“Yeah, he’s just your wingman.”

“D’you reckon he’s still mad at us?” he asked. “I’d kind of like to get you back to mine as soon as possible.” Mads smacked his chest playfully, and he shot her a cheeky grin. “You know I’m joking.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Nah, I’m not,” he agreed. “But seriously, I just want to have you to myself for a bit before everyone finds out and loses their minds.”

She nodded, snuggling back into his arms, kissing his jaw. “That sounds really nice, actually.”

And if at any point Gary believed in fate, it was then, because off in the distance, a small torchlight appeared. 

“Is someone out there?” a voice called, and Gary and Mads locked eyes. 

“Yes! Yes! We’re up in the tree!” Mads called. 

“Careful, mate one of the deer’s gone crazy!”

The farmer shone a light up in their faces as he approached, seemingly without fear. He tutted and laughed at their predicament, calm as anything as the deer nudged and nuzzled at him. Gary looked down in absolute horror as the farmer scritched the big stag between the antlers. “They’re harmless! Promise, they’re my pets. You can come down.”

Gary and Mads unzipped themselves, and climbed down, thanking him profusely as they explained how they happened to end up there.

“I just can’t believe we got held hostage by a deer!” Gary laughed. 

The farmer grinned. “These aren’t just any deer, mate, they’re reindeer. They just get a bit aggro this time of year.”

He shone the torch at some of the reindeer, clearly proud as punch of all of them as he stroked one of the smaller deer under its chin. “That there’s Donner, this lovely lady is Blitzen.”

“What about the big grumpy one?”

“Your new best friend, you mean?” Mads laughed, slipping her hand into his. He smiled, pulling her into his arms. 

Gary could’ve sworn he saw a small smile curl on the old man’s face, as he swung his torch to illuminate the tall stag.

“That’s Cupid.”

[blueberry-sunshines]

Late Night Rendezvous - Keith x Reader One Shot

Summary:

You are a fellow pilot at the Garrison and Keith's only friend, he sneaks you out to show you something during the night...

Word Count: 3.2K

Slight Angst | Sweet, Vulnerable Keith

{This can also be found on my wattpad: @/blueberry_sunshines}

{POV: Yours}

You were sitting criss-cross on top of your small bed in your dorm at the Garrison. The dim yellow glow of the school commissioned lamp lightly lit up the pages of your biology textbook. You were staying up late trying to study. Your roommate offered to stay up with you to help but you told her just to go to sleep. You didn't want her to be all sleep deprived.

Keith Kogane wasn't in all of your classes, but he was in a few. You were both fighter class pilots so your curriculum was quite similar. Everyone always says they're so surprised he's nice to you, and your roommate loves to tease you about it. She says that Keith has a 'soft spot' for you, but Keith just says that you're the only person he can stand.

Besides, you've known each other since you were kids. You both transferred to the Garrison at the same time and were partnered together. At first Keith was really cold towards you, but you always just thought he was shy and it didn't bother you that much. He seemed bored with the simulator and you always found his showing off to be rather funny. After what happened with James, Keith finally opened up to you and after that, you two were rather close. By the end of the year you two definitely started to become real friends...

You guys are 16 years old now and Keith is probably your best friend. There's always been a thin barrier between you two, but you've been ignoring it because you don't want him to push himself further away. You kind of always wished he would open up more. You thought about asking him to help you study tonight, but boys and girls aren't allowed in each other's dorms and you've been trying to make sure he stays out of trouble because you've been worried about him recently. He's been kind of distant lately and much more aggravated. A lot of people had been antsy lately because the Kerberos mission was a few months away. You knew that Keith sees the pilot, Shiro, as an older brother figure. He took Keith under his wing, so maybe that's what he was thinking about all the time when he was out of it. You had talked Shiro many times about Kerberos and he seemed very confident about it, so you never thought to worry about it. You shook your head, trying to refocus on your biology book. You turned around to look at your alarm clock and saw it flash "1:13 AM" in its big, red numbers. Damn, you really needed to wrap this up and get to bed soon...

-Knock Knock-

You had just about jumped from the surprise of someone knocking on your door. You looked over to your roommate's bed to see her definitely asleep. You sprung off your bed knowing exactly who it would be. Shaking your head in half disappointment, you put your hand on the button on the wall and let your door slide open to see none other than Keith Kogane. You felt the accidental smile form on your face the moment your eyes met his. He looked uncharacteristically nervous as he stood there in the hallway all dressed up in his red jacket and boots. You loved seeing him in his outfit because the Garrison uniforms were rather bland. Although, you thought, Keith could probably pull of anything.

"Are you gonna let me in?" Keith whispered to you with a furrow on his face. Your face began to heat up in embarrassment from spacing out.

"Sorry, just tired..." you whispered back, peeking outside the door to see if there was anyone there before grabbing Keith's sleeve and pulling him into your dorm room.

"I didn't think you'd be awake..." he admitted quietly as he walked towards your bed.

     "What's up?" You asked curiously. Normally he tells you he's coming before he does, so you weren't sure what he was doing here.

"Get changed, we're going out." He was sitting on your bed now and had his arm crossed. You looked down at yourself and realized you were still in your old T-shirt, sleep shorts combo. Eh, well this isn't the first time Keith's seen me in my pajamas.

"Keith," you sat back down on your bed, pulling him down with you. "I don't know if we should." You cautioned, "You're always getting in trouble and you can't afford losing your scholarship. You are the best pilot here, you were born for this."

     He frowned at you before speaking, "(Y/N), we're not gonna get caught. Besides, if I get kicked out, they have you left." He bumped into you jokingly.  "Where are we going?" You asked quietly to make sure your roommate doesn't wake up. Keith started standing up then and shook his head, "You'll find out soon." He said shortly, not leaving any room for you to guess what he's planning.

     "Come on," he stood up quickly and held his gloved hands out to you. You placed your hands into his and felt the warmth of his palms. It made your heart jump for a second. He pulled you up off your bed and slightly spun you over towards your big, gray wardrobe.

    "Now get dressed and come with me~" he whispered into your ear and pulled back with a smirk. He let go of your hands then and slipped out towards the door, "And hurry before we get caught!" He whisper-yelled to you as the door slid shut.

     Your heart was beating so fast. Something about Keith always made your adrenaline start pumping. Maybe it's because we're always doing things that could get us in trouble. You thought to yourself.

     Okay maybe more like convinced yourself. You then started changing out of your pajamas and into your regular outside of school outfit to distract yourself from your thoughts. You didn't want to like Keith. You guys are best friends and there's no reason to ruin that just for a silly crush. Once you were changed you made a dash to the door and snuck out next to Keith as quietly as you could. You smiled up at him and he looked down at you kindly before heading down the corridor with you stealthy following after him. You were glad to see him like this, this is the first time he's really seemed happy in the past couple weeks.

     You slipped around past some adults and teachers before making it out of one of the dock's open doors. You and Keith had snuck out of the Garrison many times before but you normally don't go with him every time he goes out. He likes being alone and so do you, so you understand.

Keith was leading you around the side of the building to stay out of cameras' and lookouts' lines of vision you eventually managed to creep around to a corner and ran until you were in the spot where you are completely hidden, there you two found Keith's land speeder. Keith plunked a helmet onto your head and started to get on before you protested.

     "Hey I wanna drive!" You whisper shouted to him hoping he'd let you be in charge of the speeder. Shiro had taught Keith to ride them ever since you've known Keith, you tried to convince him to let you join them when you were younger but he always refused. It wasn't until you were older you realized your boundaries much better. Over the past year, though, you had asked Keith to teach you and he's been trying. You weren't the greatest yet but you were definitely learning.

Keith let out a soft chuckle, "No way, sweetheart." He snipped at you in a playful tone while using a sarcastic nickname that always caused your chest to ache. "Besides, you don't even know where we're going." He fully sat down on the seat now and patted the seat behind him, other hand on the handlebar. You reluctantly obliged and slid on behind him. He turned his head around to look at you and gave you a smirk, "Hold on tight, we're going fast."

     You grinned and nodded then wrapped your arms around his torso and hung on as he revved the speeder and you two went rushing across the desert. Your heart began to race as you pulled yourself closer to Keith, feeling the wind on you as you flew through the air. You began thinking to yourself where Keith may be taking you as you looked around at your surroundings blurring past you. You eventually leaned your cheek against his back as the ride wasn't super short.

"We're almost there!" He yelled back to you, not turning his head back this time. You could hear the smile on his face and it made you smile too. You picked your head back up to start looking around again to see if you knew where you were. As you slowed to a stop, you peeked your head around his shoulder to look in front of you.

"Hey!" You began laughing, "You liar! I so know my way here!" Keith had driven you guys to his old house he used to live in with his dad. You guys have come here many times in the past. Keith comes here all the time and even skips classes to be here. It's a cute little home but it's not very cleaned up inside. Perhaps Keith likes it the way it was left and you can see why. Keith joined in on your laughter.

      "This isn't the place, we're just stopping to pick something up." Your laughter subsided as Keith got off the speeder. "Stay here," he smiled down at you, "I'll be right back." He then pushed down the visor on your helmet just to tease you before he walked off towards the house. You flicked back up the visor and rested your hand on your palm tiredly. You were starting to feel tired again after that adrenaline rush. You yawned as you thought about what on earth Keith could be grabbing. By the time he came back you started to feel more awake when you began having conversation again. Keith had a long case in his arms and he strapped it safely to the back of the speeder. Keith got back on and began driving you two up a long hill a small while away from the old Kogane house.

Once you made it to the peak, you two both got off the speeder and you got to see the beautiful sky line over the dessert mountains. You let out an amazed sigh at the sight. You were pulled out of your awed state when you heard the sounds of Keith doing something behind you. Turning around, you saw Keith setting up a telescope. You looked at him in confusion because you didn't think Keith liked telescopes, especially not after that full semester on telescopes and astral charts two years ago. He looked up at you through his long hair that was sagging in this face from his bent over stance. He didn't really look so amused either which just pushed your confusion even further.

"Come here." He beckoned after he was done setting it up. "Come here and see what you can see, right in the middle of the scope."

You looked at him skeptically before getting down to look into it. In the middle of your view was a small faint blip in the sky. "Dude," you snorted, "what star is this?" You still had no idea what he was having you look at.

"It's a moon. Jupiter's Europa." He said shortly. You stood up from the telescope and saw Keith sitting nonchalantly on the ground now. You walked back and sat down next to him, letting your hands fall behind you to hold yourself up.

"Europa is about 365 million miles away. That's nothing compared to Kerberos." He said, his voice starting to sound a lot more unhappy. "It's over 3.2 billion miles from here. And Shiros actually going!" He shouted with a growl in his voice. There it is, you thought, this is about Kerberos.

You kept quiet. You knew during times like this, it was better to just let Keith talk and you were perfectly fine with that. Looking over at him, you could see him still looking up at the night sky. His eyes were sad, his gaze was lost, yet angry. "I heard him fighting with Adam when I was outside his door a couple hours ago. Adam told Shiro that if he goes to Kerberos, that he won't be here for him when he gets back." His eyes wavered down at the ground between you two now. "And it got me thinking, everyone's been saying this is just a routine mission but, why would Adam be so worried about it?" He looked over to you now, helplessly, you didn't have an answer, and he didn't expect you to have one.

       "I think you should confront Shiro tomorrow and ask him to tell you the truth about it." You offered finally after a small moment of silence. Keith nodded slowly, thinking about your response.

      "Thanks, Y/N." He gave you a small grateful smile before laying down on the ground now, face up to the sky. You followed suit and laid down, suddenly even closer to him than you were before.

      "Anytime, Mullet." You grinned turning your head to face him. You saw him looking at you with a disappointed scowl on his face, causing you to let out a small laugh. Keith let out a sigh as you stopped giggling. You never knew what he was thinking, and the look on his face, you could tell he was thinking deeply about something. "What are you thinking about?" You decided to ask him, thinking there'd be no better time to have real conversations with him than tonight.

Keith looked back at the sky now opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again. Most likely thinking over his words.

"I've been thinking about something else too. I don't know what I would do in Shiro's shoes. I'm impulsive and stupid as hell, and when I want to do something I don't let anything stand in my way, but if someone I really loved tried to stop me from doing it, I don't know if I could, even with the thought of them leaving me for me. And it scares me, Y/N, so many people have left me and I don't know what I'd do if it were my fault you left."

You felt a lump form in your throat from hearing Keith talk about this. This is one of the times in a very long time he has let you in on how he feels about anything. Hearing him openly express your emotions was touching and you felt so honored to be the one he tells them to.

"Y/N?" Your name escaped his lips again, this time asking as if he was longing for you. You turned your head again to look at him. You held your breath when you noticed that your faces were close enough that your noses could be touching if either of you moved any further.

"Yeah?" You asked him suddenly much more quiet now, you cursed yourself for sounding so nervous but you couldn't control your pounding heart at the proximity. You were searching his eyes to see if you could guess what he was thinking, he's never been very touchy and you were oh so close to touching, you started to sit up a bit to give him space, but you were stopped in your tracks when you felt Keith's hand grip onto yours as he sat up too, pulling your hand towards him.

The warm touch so foreign and yet so familiar. An hour ago in your dorm, a month ago while guiding you in the simulator, a year ago when he tried to help you fix your bad hair day, all the way back to age 13 when he handed you back your glitter gel pen in class and you felt the flaming rush in your chest.

"I want you to know," he whispered, holding onto your hand a little tighter now, "no matter what happens, I will never do anything on purpose to make you leave me."

You didn't know what to say, so instead you flung your arms around him and pulled him into a loving hug. You let out a shaky sigh as you felt Keith's body relax into yours. "I know you wouldn't." You were in this weird state of shock having never seen Keith this vulnerable before.

"God I'm so fucking stupid..." you hear his muffled voice growl from your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug then, angry at himself for just simply showing you his emotions. You shook your head quickly and put his hand back into your own.

"No you're not, Keith." You reassured him, "Thank you for telling me this." You said then, hoping to make him feel more secure again.

"Yeah..." he sighed then, "Let's get you back in your dorm, they should be switching look outs soon." He quickly changed the subject. You frowned at him, both for putting back up his wall and for making this night coming to an end. You agreed nonetheless, you were glad Keith was beginning to let you in and you were willing to accept that the boundary was back up. Keith means the world to you, and you'd never let that go.

Keith drove you guys back to his speeders hiding place before helping you sneak back in and back through the halls to your dorm. There wasn't any talking on the way back but it was a comfortable silence. Once you were back at your door, you thanked Keith for the wonderful night and told him to get some sleep before the sun starts to come up. You turned them to your door and were about to open it when,

"Hey, uh, (Y/N)?" He whispered for your attention once again. "You're really important to me." He said shortly but still full of so much love. You pulled him into another hug. "You too, Mullet." You whispered into his ear, "Never forget it... please?"

You felt Keith nod and he gave you a quick squeeze before letting go of the embrace, slowly, his hand sliding down your arm as he began to walk away, once it reached your hand and gave it another quick squeeze before he finally let go and slipped around the corner into the darkness. You let out a large breath you didn't know you were holding once you saw him disappear. God were you in love with him. Even if he's never usually like that during the day, you love every Keith and maybe one day you'll tell him....

__________

Hey!!! Let me know what you thought of this one shot :))) I know Keith was pretty ooc, but I like thinking of him being very sensitive around the ones he loves!

Also this didn't proof read yet because I rlly wanted to get this chapter out to you guys !!!!!

This is my first like official Voltron work so bare with me!

PLEASE PLEASE REQUEST SOMETHING LOL

[andreafmn]

Collision - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,434

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

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

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 1/?

A/N: There’s no Cullen’s in the first chapter, we’ll see them soon though. Also, Esme is in the story but her and Carlisle are not together romantically. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

Going back home felt bizarre for (Y/N). It had been 4 years since she had moved away from the La Push Reservation on a scholarship to a prep boarding school in Seattle. Although students were expected to go back home during summer break, she spent her time in summer taking college classes or attending internships in the area, so going back didn’t fit into her plans.

But she had just graduated from high school and decided that taking a gap year could not hurt. Seeing her family wouldn’t be that bad either.

(Y/N) Uley had not reunited physically with Sam and Allison Uley since she left for school, only calling occasionally but always being to busy for anything else. The mother and son duo had grown accustomed to the short phone calls and vague emails they would receive from their studious family member. The Uley siblings used to be a very close pair, being only a year apart helped their bond. But since (Y/N) had invested all her energy into her high school career, their relationship rapidly dissipated; replaced by untold secrets and life-changing details.

The Uley girl had no idea what was in store when she went back home. She had left when she was 14 and was coming back an 18-year-old with a high school diploma and a bachelor’s degree. (Y/N) had always been an over achiever and applying to the school she had and taking dual enrollment was no surprise to her mother and brother.

The bus ride from Seattle to La Push lasted almost eight hours, so (Y/N) equipped herself with two books, plenty of snacks, and a fully charged iPod to handle the ride. She had gotten the earliest ride available always enjoying the intriguing mystery that 3 am travels brought. Her brown eyes surveyed the curious characters that voyaged alongside her a young woman sat with a sleeping baby in her arms, the dark circles under her eyes signaled the baby was still a newborn getting adapted to a sleep schedule; there was a middle-aged man, his eyes attached to a computer and a briefcase tight to his side; there were two teenagers, backpacks at their feet and shared headphones in between them. They were wearing light blue polo shirt and her school insignia embroidered on the left side of their shirt. She had seen them in passing, two freshmen still energetic and excited for their school life. She looked at them and smiled, remembering being in their shoes four years ago.

Four hours in, (Y/N) had finished one book, and the bus made its first stop in Port Angeles, the place where everyone that traveled with her got off. It wasn’t surprising to see from the top of her book as everyone got off, she didn’t recognize any of them from the reservation so it would have been surprising if any of them had stayed in the bus. For the next four hours, (Y/N) continued to read her second book surrounded by a comforting silence. The sun had risen about an hour ago and a nice warmth was streaming from the bus window and (Y/N) felt herself drift in bliss.

Her eyes fluttered open once again when she felt the bus finally rolling to a stop. She blinked a few times as she adjusted her vision to the bright midday sun and her brain restarted normal functions. The brunette gathered the bag with her travel companions and got up from the chair she had been glued to for eight hours.

“Have a good day,” the driver chimed as (Y/N) was walking down the bus.

“You too, drive safe!” The girl smiled and got her two suitcases out of the side of the bus.

(Y/N) got startled as she felt two arms wrap around her midriff and quickly swung her elbow back.

“Woah, woah, careful with those arms, (Y/N). It’s just me,” the girl turned around, a gleaming grin adorning her face.

“Sam!” She jumped onto the open arms of her older brother, seeing the years that had passed on his tired face.

“Look at you, darling. All grown up,” Allison Uley smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Mom, I’ve missed you.” (Y/N) hugged her mother tightly, noticing the difference in heights of her and her mother. Another thing she noticed was the strain between her mother and her brother. Before she left, they all had a very close relationship but now it felt like so many things had interlaced into their bond. “Let’s go home yeah?”

“I’m, actually I gotta go to my house,” Sam scratched the back of his neck.

“What house?” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I moved out, but I’ll come over for your welcome dinner.”

“Sam, she just came back. Don’t you wanna spend time with your sister?” Allison begged, wanting to have both of her children under the same roof again.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, mom. Leave it.” Sam sighed. “I’ll see you at dinner, (Y/N).”

He kissed the top of his sister’s head and left. He wanted to tell them the whole truth, but he knew he couldn’t. Knowing that information would put them in a level of danger that he didn’t want them to be aware of.

(Y/N) stared at the retreating figure of his brother as he ran down the street, leaving her and their mother.

“What’s up with him?”

“Oh darling, if only I knew.” Allison sighed grabbing one of the suitcases her daughter had brought. “Let’s just head to the house so you can rest.”

“Yeah, let’s.” (Y/N) gave Allison a comforting smile and wheeled the second suitcase towards the truck.

The drive home was as short as she remembered, and the house hadn’t changed a bit. She walked up the steps to the porch and opened the old wooden door; it still made the same creaking sound. The house still smelled of seawater and pine, an odd mix but a comforting scent. (Y/N) regretted all the summers she missed here and all the days she spent away from her family.

She made her way up the stairs and entered the first door to the right. She ran her fingers through the stickers she had pasted on there when she was 13: a wolf, a rainbow, a heart, and a picture of her family. Her name still carved at the highest point of the door and she smiled at the memory of that. She sat atop Sam’s shoulder when she was just 12 years old, a trembling hand holding a pick as she carved as best as she could the name “(Y/N)”.

The doorknob as it was turned let out a squeaky groan and the door needed an extra push to open. The room had not changed at all. The walls were still painted a light green, the light switch still had the pink princess cover, the bedding had the little purple butterflies embroidered on them, and the pillows were all pink and purple. In a corner rested the five boxes (Y/N) had sent to the house from her dorm room.

“It hasn’t changed a bit,” (Y/N) commented as she felt her mother’s presence behind her.

“I didn’t want to change it until you came back,” Allison smiled. “But I’m sure you’d like to give this place a bit of a makeover.”

“Definitely,” she laughed. “I think I’ll go to Port Angeles this weekend, doing some shopping can’t hurt.”

“That’s true.” Allison side hugged her daughter as she laughed. She headed towards the door but stopped when she was called upon by her daughter.

“Hey, mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“By any chance, do you know where Sam’s living?” Allison’s body stiffened but shared the information with her daughter. Maybe she could figure out why he’d just disappeared.

(Y/N) was surprised to hear he was living with a girl she barely knew. She knew of Emily Young through Leah Clearwater, but not much after that. Last thing she had heard Leah and Sam had been dating. She certainly had missed some very important pivotal points in her brother’s life.

The house wasn’t far, so she decided to walk there. Upon arrival she could feel the warm and inviting aura that the quaint house emanated. The blue door called to her as she knocked on it. It finally opened and revealed her brother.

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my big brother. Is that such a crime?” She laughed.

“No, of course. Come in,” he smiled begrudgingly. “I don’t have much time so we gotta make this quick.”

“Wow, feeling the love there,” she chuckled passing through the doorframe.

“There’s just some things that I have to do before dinner tonight.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I just wanted to ask if you could help me on the weekend with my room. I’m bringing it four years into the present, gotta make sure it looks like an 18-year-old sleeps there.”

“Yeah, I’ll come over Sunday afternoon and help you then. Anything else you need?”

“Well, not exactly, but it wouldn’t help to catch up. You know make up for four years of chit chat conversations and get me up to date with at the happenings in your life.”

“There’s not much to say other than I moved out and I’m engaged.” He said nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?! You’re engaged and failed to mention that to me?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, (Y/N).”

“Yes, it is, Sam! You’re getting married and this is the first I’m ever hearing of this or the fact that you moved out or the fact that you’re engaged to your ex-girlfriend’s cousin. I think it is a big deal.”

“Okay, yeah. Kind of a long story on that one.”

“Enough time to tell it to me?” Sam hesitated. He could hear Emily’s truck approaching and two male voices coming back from patrol. He needed to get (Y/N) out of the house before they got here.

“Maybe another time. I’ll call you on Sunday, yeah?” Sam asked as he nudged his sister out of his house.

“I guess.” (Y/N) mumbled as she was pushed out the front door. “Bye.”

“See ya.” Sam kissed the side of her head and closed the door.

(Y/N) left the house with more questions about her brother that she had begun with but didn’t want to press on. There was no use if he wasn’t going to talk, so she walked back home.

Her mother had gone out, possibly grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner, giving (Y/N) time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. She walked up the stairs and into her room, plopping down on the bed not caring how she landed. All she wanted was to close her eyes and rest.

By six in the afternoon her eyes fluttered open once again. She could smell the dinner her mother had been cooking. The room had darkened as the sun was going down and thankfully her mother had turned on a lamp for (Y/N) to have some vision. The girl got up from bed and grabbed some clothes from her suitcase to take a quick shower before dinner. She stripped all her clothes off and let the water wash away all the hours of the day. As soon as the water started turning cold, she shut it off and got out.

For a second, (Y/N) stopped and stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. She barely recognized the girl staring back. The bags under her eyes were deeper than the last time she had seen herself in this specific mirror, her cheekbones were more defined than before, her skin paler than usual since she hadn’t really seen the sun in a while.

It didn’t take her long to change into some new clothes and head downstairs, where she saw her mother on the phone. Disappointment evident in her eyes.

“Sam, it’s your sister… please… ok, fine. Just don’t flake on her on Sunday,” Allison sighed, turning off her phone and slamming it on the counter.

“Everything okay, mom?”

“Oh, yeah, darling. Your brother won’t be able to join us, but Billy and Jacob, and the Clearwaters are on their way, and I also invited Charlie and Bella Swan. I hope you don’t mind that they join in.”

“No, I don’t mind. What about Paul?”

“You know I’ve never liked that boy, honey.” (Y/N) stared at her mother. Refusing to continue the conversation until Allison answered the question. “I did invite him, but he couldn’t come.”

“I love seeing you make an effort,” (Y/N) laughed and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll set the table.”

“Thank you, darling.”

(Y/N) grabbed the 10 plates needed for the night and the respective cutlery. She still remembered how her mother liked the table arranged and set it as such. She set the vase filled with fresh flowers in the middle of the table, leaving space on the sides for the dinner platters. The arrival of the guests was soon after. (Y/N) had grown alongside Jacob and Leah, and on the summers, she would spend her times with the Swan girl. Once Seth was born, he became very close with the Uley girl.

“My oh my, (Y/N), how you’ve grown.” Billy Black grabbed Uley’s hand and smiled up at her, with the warmness that summer brought.

“Indeed, I have, and you haven’t aged a day in four years. What’s your secret?”

“It’s in the genes,” he laughed alongside the young girl. She’d always been a charmer, he thought “You remember my boy, Jacob, right?”

“How could I ever forget? Hey, Jake!”

“How you’ve been, (Y/N)?” Jacob approached his friend and wrapped her in a hug. “Been an awful long time.”

“Four years, that’s not much,” she smiled. “Come in.”

The father and son duo entered the house, and next came the Clearwaters. Harry, Sue, and Seth. No Leah. They had always been close to the Uleys, a bit of divide coming after the rupture between the eldest offspring of each family.

“Oh, wow, where has the time gone?” Sue commented, greeting the girl with a tight hug.

“4 years really do go by quick, don’t they?”

“They sure do, Harry.” (Y/N) smiled, motioning the couple in.

Finally, Seth walked in and engulfed (Y/N) in a tight hug. The girl was 5 years his elder, but he considered her one of his best friends. Seth and Paul were the only two people (Y/N) kept in close contact other than her family. For some time, Paul and (Y/N) had drifted apart but Seth always sent his monthly excited letters, updating her on what he had been up to.

“I missed you, (Y/N)!” Little Seth spoke into a bundle of brunette hair.

“I missed you too, Seth.” She smiled as he walked past her, joining his parents.

The last to enter were Sheriff Swan and Bella. The cop smiled at the girl and gave her a quick hug, commenting on how much she had grown, a low chuckle leaving his throat. Bella entered with hunched shoulders, possibly not wanting to be there but she still smiled at her old friend. Vague memories filled the girls’ heads of summer play dates and days at the beach.

“It’s been quite some time, huh?” Bella muttered.

“It sure has. It’s great to see you again,” (Y/N) smiled. “How have you liked Forks now that you’re back full time. Still hating cold weather?”

“Yeah,” the pale girl chuckled. “But it has its better days.”

The girls joined in a quick giggled before joining the rest of the group at the dinner table. Allison had already set the table and had said her hellos to the group.

The three males had engaged in sports conversations and the teens were all huddled in the kitchen munching on cheese and crackers and engaging in small chit chat.

“So, (Y/N), 18 and already a degree, how does that feel?” Jacob asked, stuffing his mouth with cheese and ham.

“Well, as good as it can be. Don’t know exactly what I’m gonna do now. All I know is that I’m taking a year off and taking a breather for the first time.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I just can’t believe you’d spend all this time going to school, twice as much. I don’t like school at all,” Seth chimed in, picking apart the cheese and filling his mouth.

“So, you spent these past four years studying, including your summers?” Bella added.

“That’s correct,” (Y/N) smiled. “And now I have a degree and nothing to do with it.”

The group chuckled and moved towards the adults as they were being called to dinner. In the center of the table was a big platter of spaghetti and meatballs, (Y/N)’s favorite food, a tray of toasted garlic bread, and a bowl of a colorful mix of spring salad.

(Y/N) always enjoyed her mother’s cooking. Even on her saddest days, Allison’s cooking could warm her heart at any time. She and her mother had a very close relationship, even after four years of distance. Since her father left early in her life, her mother had always tried her hardest to make sure both her children were loved and cared for. And she stayed wondering where she had gone wrong with Sam and hoping (Y/N) didn’t stray away as her eldest had.

The dinner group had all taken their seats at the dinner table and were passing around the various platters, serving themselves their desired portions. Jacob and Seth were overfilling their plates, receiving a laugh from their respective parents. Charlie, Harry, and Billy were filling their plates with more protein than carbohydrates and the moms at the table smiled at the males engulfing the meatballs. (Y/N) looked around the table and smiled. It had been a long time since she had sat down with the important people in her life and was relaxed, even if two of them were missing.

After everyone was served, everything went almost quiet. Some background music could be heard from the living room and the sound of forks hitting plates and mouths chewing filled the environment. Everyone was comfortable with the silence, but there was still one question in everyone’s mind.

“Where’s Sam?” Seth spoke up, voicing everyone’s question. The whole table paused in action and Seth felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Sue softly elbowed her son. “What?”

“It’s okay, Sue,” (Y/N) smiled. “He couldn’t be here, bud.”

“Maybe he was feeling bad, like Leah.” He added earning a burning stare from both his parents.

“Maybe, Seth.”

“I just wanna apologize for our daughter missing this dinner. I know she really wanted to see you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Harry, it’s really no problem. I’m sure I’ll catch up with her soon enough.” (Y/N) smiled trying to ease the tension felt in the room. She could see her mother gripping her fork tightly as she kept her head down. “But I would also like to apologize on behalf of Sam, I know he wanted to be here.”

Everyone simply nodded and went back to their plates. The rest of the evening was enjoyable. No one mentioned the pair that was missing, and (Y/N)’s past four years were questioned in depth. She had an answer for everything except “What are you gonna do now?”

She didn’t know and that’s what she answered. She mentioned she wanted to study medicine, having finished a degree in biology and always loved taking care of other people. Sue was excited, being a nurse herself. But (Y/N) had landed at a standstill in terms of her life and career. A vast portion of her life had been defined as a student and now that this part was over, she didn’t know who she was.  

The dinner festivities were over soon thereafter, leaving Allison and (Y/N) to clean up after the group. The Uley pair put everything away in silence, exhausted from the eventful day. (Y/N) could see as her mother wiped away a few stray tears, sniffling behind her hair. The girl knew better than to bring the topic back up and left her mother with a kiss on the temple and a good night.

Upstairs, (Y/N) prepared herself for bed. The event had drained nay energy still left in her and she plopped down on the bed with a small thud. She had prepared her clothes for the next day, knowing her energy would also be drained but still excited to have this change. Her eyes fluttered close as she heard in the distance her mother’s quiet footsteps on the staircase, darkness overtaking her.

Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E1; Chapter One, The Vanishing of Will Byers - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘖𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.

𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟔𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟑

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒, 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐔.𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘

The night is quiet, as it always has been in this small corner of Indiana, and yet this night is unlike any other. The halls were especially bare, occupied only by the melody of the generator humming as it struggled to pump light throughout the twisted maze of halls. That was, until...

BAM

The steel door rips open, colliding fast and hard with the walls withab fantastic thud. Swallowing all remaining silence along with it, was the cry of alarms that flood the hallway as he runs for his life. The man finds himself at the elevator, furiously slamming his hand against the elevator button hoping just maybe it might make the elevator come faster. As he does so, the man continues to look over his shoulder in a panic.

He knows its after him.

BOOM

He knows its close.

The man is thrilled to hear the soft ding of the elevator signaling it's arrival. Before the doors are even opened all the way the man quickly ducks through and proceeds to frantically hit the UP button inside the elevator.

The doors begin to close.

For a second he believes he just might make it. But that doesn't completely cast away the fear as he can't seem to take his eyes off of the eerie hallway, expecting it's arrival. The man attempts to calm his breathing. His hopes of escaping are growing stronger as things quiet down.

That's when he hears it.

That... Thing.

It takes every remaining ounce of courage for the man to slowly look up, but on some level, he already knows he is done for.

A low growl is heard above him followed by an unusual yet terrifying squeak.

The man's screams were cut off with the shut of the doors as he is yanked up towards the ceiling of the elevator. The man is no more.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

It's quiet. The faint sound of sprinklers outside can be heard as we wait for Mike to continue. We are all on the edge of our seats. It's already hard enough they still can't find proper seating for me since I officially joined the party, so, for now, I'm wedged between my best friend Will and my brother Dustin.

"Something is coming. Something hungry for blood," Mike says, his voice barely above a whisper. "A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness."

Subconsciously we all slowly lean in waiting for whatever happens next.

"It is almost here."

"What is it?" Will asks suddenly, no longer capable of containing his curiosity.

This time it's Dustin who cuts in, "What if it's the Demogorgon?"

I take a deep breath in suspense. Out of the corner of my eye, Will practically throws himself back in his seat.

"Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon." Dustin rambles on.

Lucas speaks up, "It's not the Demogorgon." He sounds very sure of himself which gives me more confidence.

We all jump a little in our seats when Mike slams one of the game pieces down in front of us suddenly as he shouts "An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber!"

I sigh in great relief as Lucas gives a very smug and quite frankly, sassy look to Dustin as he props his elbow on the back of his chair which earns a soft chuckle from me.

"Troglodytes?" Dustin asks in disbelief.

"Told ya," I roll my eyes at Lucas despite the smile that grows on my face.

Everyone shares a good laugh, all of us relieved when my eyes meet Will's and we share a smile and a shake of the head as if silently saying 'I can't believe we were so worried for nothing'.

Simultaneously all of our smiles melt away when Mike starts looking around as he says "Wait a minute. Did you hear that?"

"That...That sound," he says softly.

"Boom... Boom," his voice is getting slightly louder with each 'boom'. We all stare at Mike expectantly, hanging on to his every word.

"BOOM!" Mike is shouting at this point as he slams his hands against the wooden surface making the table as well as all of us jump.

I always get too into these games, I realize. My heart is racing as adrenaline courses through my veins. I look over and it seems when I jumped I grabbed on to the nearest thing next to me which happened to be Will's arm. Sheepishly, I retract my hand and look back at Mike in anticipation.

"That didn't come from the troglodytes. No, that... That came from something else." Mike continues.

We all look around at each other as we wait for Mike.

In an instant, Mike slams down the next figure on the board and exclaims, "The Demogorgon!"

'Yep. We're screwed.'

The silence is replaced with all of our defeated groans. Dustin sighs and says, "We're in deep shit."

Mike suddenly says, "Will, your action!"

"I don't know!" Will sounded desperate.

We're all on edge, but the boys are completely panicking.

"Fireball him!" Lucas shouts.

"I'd have to roll a 13 or higher!"

"Too risky." Dustin cuts in. "Cast a protection spell!"

Lucas turns to Will and says "Don't be a pussy," I roll my eyes. "Fireball him!"

At this point, Lucas and Dustin are just yelling at each other.

"Cast protection."

Our attention is quickly brought back to Mike when he shouts, "The Demogorgon is tired of your silly human bickering! It stomps towards you."

"BOOM!"

"FIREBALL HIM!"

"Another stomp. BOOM."

"Cast. Protection."

"He roars in anger!"

At this point, everyone is yelling over one another; it's utter chaos, and finally I snap.

"Oh, come on, I'M tired of your silly human bickering, just let the boy roll!" It's hard to be heard over all the yelling but, by some miracle,, they manage to hear me and it's quiet for a split second as Will gets a chance to speak.

"And, FIREBALL!" He throws the dice on the table out of excitement and they go flying onto the floor.

"Oh shit!"

We all jump to our feet, scrambling to find the dice in anticipation.

"Where'd it go?" Lucas asks. "Where is it?"

Will almost sounded defensive, "I don't know!"

"Is it a 13?"

"How are we supposed to know if we haven't found the dice yet, Dustin?" I retort.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" Dustin chants as he paces back and forth. I roll my eyes as I continue to search on my hands and knees.

"Mike," It was Mrs. Wheeler.

"Mom we're in the middle of a campaign!" Mike exclaims.

"You mean the end? Fifteen after."

Mike sighs, exasperated and runs up the stairs.

I hear Lucas accuse Will. "Oh, my God! Freaking Idiot!"

"Lucas," I ease. "come on, it's not his fault. We were all caught up in the game. Let's just focus on- OH! Found 'em!"

I jump to my feet, pointing down at the D-20 for my friends to see and not wanting to tamper with the roll. The boys come running over and practically trampled me in the process.

"Shit, it's a seven." We all groan in frustration, especially Will.

"Does a seven count?" Will asked hopefully.

"Did Mike see it?" Lucas counters.

"Well, no."

"Then it doesn't count."

I sigh, beginning to pack up my bags and tidy up my mess knowing it was time to leave. The others do the same.

"Why do we have to leave?" Will asks sadly as we head up the stairs. "It was just getting good,"

"I know," I swing my arm off his shoulder dramatically with a sigh as we head up the basement stairs and for the garage door. "I know. But hey, just think how awesome the next one will be, eh?" I tease trying to get my best friend to smile.

|| 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Y/n has always been so good at cheering people up, I have no idea how he does it.

"Hey, guys. I'm sorry we had to end it so soon." Y/n and I turn around looking at Mike.

"No sweat, Mikey." Y/n shrugs, with a smile.

I love that smile. Suddenly his arm leaves my shoulder, and I frown a little.

I sigh inwardly, I've had such a bad crush on Y/n since he and Dustin moved here in the 4th grade. He has no idea... I hope. I always admired him from afar, that is until he finally convinced Dustin to let him into the party. We were all glad to have him, Dustin can be a little overprotective is all. I'm not sure about Dustin, but as for Mike and Lucas, they know I like him. Those guys can read me like a book, and once they caught on there was no convincing them otherwise.

I'm really lucky to have them as friends. They've never made me feel bad for who I am.

"Hey, Mike? Where is Dustin?" Y/n asks.

That's a good point, I realize. He was right behind us but he hasn't come outside yet.

"I think he went upstairs to give the leftovers to Nancy."

"Oh okay. I'll just wait here then. Uh oh, your plant is dying" Y/n said suddenly, kneeling down by the withering plant by the patio.

"Yeah, that's my mom's tomato plant. That thing is hopeless. She basically gave up on it."

"Well, I might be able to help," he said thoughtfully, beginning to scan the garage. "Where do you keep your gardening- Oh, never mind!"

He quickly runs over to the shelves, retrieving some old packets and ran back over to the plant, kneeling beside it.

You can always tell when he is concentrating; he always does this cute thing where he furrows his brow and chews his lip. My stomach does a little flip when i realize I was staring again and I quickly refocus my attention on my vest zipper. I still manage to see Y/n fiddling with the the packet tonget it open, finally sprinkling the contents into the dirt before mixing it in with his finger. All the while, he mutters words of encouragement towards it. I remember him telling me one day about a study conducted on plants and how it was proved that they respond well to positive feedback, and the memory makes me smile. He was so fascinated by it; it was hard not to be as excited about it as he was when he told us about it.

Y/n stands up, brushing himself off and smiles at Mike and then me.

I kinda froze, not in panic but in awe. He just radiates warmth, and positivity effortlessly.

"What?" He chuckles as he smiles at me.

I shake my head in embarrassment and look away, zipping up my vest and getting on my bike.

Lucas just rolls his eyes at my behavior. He's always telling me to just go for it but it's not that easy. I think he's tired of my bashfulness but still understands why I'm scared.

We all look to the door when we hear it slam. It's Dustin.

"There's something wrong with your sister." He grumbles.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's got a stick up her butt."

"Yeah," Lucas joins in. "It's because she's been dating that douche bag, Steve Harrington."

"Yeah, she's turning into a real jerk."

"She's always been a real jerk!" Mike interrupts.

"Nuh-uh. She used to be cool, like the time she dressed up as an elf for our elder tree campaign." With that, Dustin headed off on his bike, followed by Y/n but not before sending me a smile and thanking Mike.

"It was a seven," I tell him, thinking back on the campaign.

"Huh?"

"The roll, it was a seven. The Demogorgon, it got me."

Mike seems a bit shocked at my truthfulness, but ultimately shrugs it off, nodding. I nod back.

"See you later!" I say as I start peddling away.

I catch up just in time to see Lucas bid his goodbyes.

"Good night, ladies!" He chimes.

"Kiss your mom 'night for me," Dustin calls before looking over at me.

"Race you back to my place? Winner gets a comic?"

Before I can respond Y/n speaks up, "and am I included this time, like at all?"

"Course not," he says nonchalantly. I shake my head, feeling kinda bad for him, but I know it's just sibling banter.

"Well then," he scoffs. "Don't be surprised if your bike tires mysteriously deflate one day, Dustin. There's all kinds of weirdos out here,"

I laugh, and Dustin just ignores him.

"Any comic?" I ask.

"Yeah!" As we are about to start we both look back when we hear Y/n frantically yelling, "Shit! DUSTIN HELP!"

I look back to see him winking at me with a smile on his face. Automatically realizing what he is up to, I booked it.

Fortunately for me, Dustin wasn't so quick. I could hear his frantic cries, "Jesus, Y/n what's wrong-? HEY, WHAT THE HELL?!"

There it is. Although, I was already far ahead.

"DAMMIT Y/N, IF I LOSE YOU OWE ME A COMIC BOOK!"

I can hear Y/n's laughter from here and it makes me smile. As the laughter grows more and more distant, I hear "GO WILL, GO!"

Somehow my smile gets bigger, and my legs go faster.

"Hey! Hey! Get back here! I'm gonna kill you! BOTH of you!"

"I'll take your X-Men 134!" I shout as I pass his house and take the shortcut to my own.

As I slow down my mind starts to wonder; It wanders to the campaign today. It wanders to how Y/n helped me win the race and my new comic book just moments ago. It wanders to Y/n grabbing my arm during the campaign and how I don't think I've ever blushed that hard... My mind wanders to Y/n.

Sometimes I really hate how much I like him. How I can't get him out of my head. He just has always been such a good friend to me and I just don't get how someone can be so nice, and thoughtful and-

My thoughts are cut short when I notice my bike light flickering. I look down at it in confusion. Just then it comes back on. I look back at the road and I see a disturbingly tall, ominous figure staring me down. My heart practically stops in the figure's wake.

My body reacted before my mind could; I yanked my bike right and as I cruise down the ditch, my bike topples over and I'm sent to the muddy ground. It takes me a second to gather my senses as I warily pick myself up and try and get a glimpse of what I just saw. My heart starts racing faster as I hear an alarming and indistinct growling. I'm whimpering at this point but I don't care. I ditch my bike without a second thought and book it as fast as I can in the direction of my house.

I'm sniveling and panting as I make it through the fog that covers the road in front of my house. I make it on to the porch, throw open the door, and slam it shut just as fast. My fingers fumble to secure every single lock on the door and for the first time in my life I wonder why we don't have more. All the while, Chester is barking like crazy.

"Mom?" I'm running through the house looking in every room for any sign of my mom or Jonathan.

"Jonathan? Mom?"

'Crap they must be working. Crap! No No No!'

I run back into the living room and throw the blinds over my head, wincing as it hit the back of my head. But I waste no time in cupping my hands up against the glass to get a better look at the yard to see if I can spot the figure.

My stomach drops what feels like ten stories.

I can see it in the distance right between the sheets that were hung out to dry.

It's just standing there. Menacingly. (a/n: If you understood that reference, and actually thought it was funny let's be friends please 😂)

It starts stomping towards the house.

I gasp and start running for the phone.

I hastily pick the phone up from the mount and my fingers are shaking as I try and dial 911 as fast as possible.

I can hear it ringing. I can hear the click as if someone picked up. I waste no time, "Hello? HELLO?!"

All I can hear over the phone now is static, and then a disturbing, yet familiar screech-like growl. Chester's barking is getting louder and more frequent indicating that It's right outside. I slowly peer around the corner to look at the glass window on the door and I can barely make out the menacing shadowy figuring looming outside the door. I can hear it growling from outside.

Chester's barks quickly turn into whimpers as he backs away towards me.

Then the unthinkable happens.

The chain lock on the inside of the door starts unlocking itself.

'Shit!'

At this point, I realize I'm never going to be able to outrun it so I'm going to have to at least try to defend myself. I remember the gun we keep in the shed out back and make a run for it, not even bothering to hang up the phone. I nearly trip on my own feet as I run for the shed. I make it inside and slam the shed door behind me in the process. I quickly but carefully take the gun off the wall and set it on the shelf as I scramble for the ammo. My fingers are still trembling as I fumble to put the bullets in the magazine.

Once I finally get the magazine in, I pick up the gun and aim it at the shed door waiting. It seems as though I can't even keep the gun steady since my entire body is completely tremoring, even my unsteady breaths.

It has to be close by now.

As if on cue I hear the deep growling that I've already heard twice tonight and for a couple of moments I think it's outside. But then I realize why it sounds so close.

It's in the shed with me.

It's behind me.

The fear is nearing paralyzing, but I still manage to command my body to turn around to get a look at this relentless monster. When I see it I just stand there in utter disbelief, the gun slowly and subconsciously lowering to my side in shock. I'm completely frozen in place as I stare at the beast in front of me. The hanging light bulb above me glows intensively brighter with every passing second. The last thing I see before I'm cloaked in pure white light and an unbearable chill is the monster's long arm reaching out for me.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 3 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Here’s chapter 3!  I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Succession Chapter 3

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: PG-13 for language and possible kidnapping trigger warning (this is a slow burn, but it will get sexy and spicy later on)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter 3

“Stop squirming!” Heisenberg growled as you kicked your legs and bucked your body.  Uttering a curse under his breath, he slung his hammer to the ground, whirled your body to face him, and threw you over his shoulder, picking up the hammer and dragging it in the snow.

You did not know where he was taking you.  It felt as if he had been carrying you for a good fifteen minutes.  The scenery going by was the same as what was at the crash site: nothing but snow and dead trees.  You pushed your hands to his back and tried to look around desperately for another person to call for help.  Unable to find any source of assistance, you did the only thing you could...kick your legs and beat your fists against his back.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” Heisenberg laughed, his grip on your legs tightening.  His voice held such confidence and self-assurance that you wanted to slap the fuck out of him.

You looked down to the ground and noticed that the snow and dirt gave way to cobblestones.  Looking around, you saw that he was walking across a bridge.  To your left were mountains with a cascading waterfall.  The wind caught sprays of mist and you felt the ice cold stinging your face.  

“Home sweet home, pussycat!” Heisenberg bellowed.  You heard the opening of a gate as you tried to turn around to see where he was taking you.  

“Put me down!” you shrieked, swinging your leg forward and kicking him square in the stomach.  A loud oomph rushed from his mouth and he lurched forward, dropping you forcefully on your ass.  Pain shot up your body.  You squirmed and cursed as you grabbed your butt, rubbing the pained area.

“Come on,” Heisenberg said, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, “you can’t just lie on the ground all day!”  

You tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him when you looked up and saw the building before you.  A bleak factory with tall smoke stacks stood like a monstrosity with the snowy mountains in the background.  An array of scrap metal littered the grounds around the building.  Heisenberg pulled you towards a pair of sliding doors in the front.

Despite the fact that you and Heisenberg had yet to reach the building, the doors opened on their own.  The distant sounds of chains and metal could be heard deep inside of the factory and you wondered if there were others working.  Maybe someone would feel sympathy towards you and help you escape or call for help.  He pulled you over the threshold and into his factory.

With a sudden quickness, you jerked away from his grasp and tried to make a break for the doors.  They swiftly shut and trapped you inside.  You looked around wildly as Heisenberg laughed before you, knowing that you were stuck.  Not one to give up so easily, you spotted stairs going down to the lower level and you ran towards them.

“Ugh...I don’t have time for this shit!!” you heard Heisenberg yell behind you, but you were already halfway down the stairs and rushing to get as much distance between you and him as you could.

Your adrenaline was pumping as you turned a corner and ran down a dark hallway.  You couldn’t hear the man behind you, which had you hoping that you were able to hide from him and come out once the coast was clear.

The steel stairs and walkways were a labyrinth as you looked for an open door that led to an empty room.  There had to be someone in this place that you could convince to help you.  Hell, you were so close to becoming three million dollars richer...if they helped you, you could reward them handsomely.  But not before having this psychopath Heisenberg brought up on kidnapping charges.  

“Pussycat…” you heard in a sing-song voice coming around the corner, “...please come out and play…”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you ran down the hallway towards a door.  You opened the door and before you stood a metal walkway suspended in the air.  It went on for several feet before stopping at another closed door.  Slowly shutting the door behind you, you turned and started running across, your hands on the railings.  

Movement along with the sounds of cogs turning and chains rattling brought your attention to your left.  Your feet came to a halt and your eyes widened.  

Were those...bodies?

Lifeless bodies were hanging from a large metal wheel, turning around and around.  More bodies hung suspended from hooks as they moved along on an assembly line...lines that went up and down, right and left.  There had to be hundreds of bodies in this place.

“Jesus Christ!” you murmured, your hands gripping the railing.

“How do you like my army?”

Your head whipped around to find Heisenberg slamming the door shut behind him, slowly making his way towards you.  “Ah, yes...hundreds of men...waiting to become unbeatable, glorious works of art…”

“What the fuck is this place??” you spat at him, walking backwards.

Heisenberg looked at the bodies, his gloved hand sliding across the railing as he walked closer to you.  “You have no idea where you are, darling…” he responded, turning his attention to you, “...this place...well, perhaps death would have been better for you…”

“Stay away from me,” you muttered, turning around and running as fast as you could towards the door on the other side of the walkway.  You could hear the steady stomp of Heisenberg’s boots as he got closer and closer.  Gripping the door handle, you pulled as hard as you could, but the door did not budge.  You cursed and yelled, pulling and turning the handle.

Heisenberg’s arms went around your body and pulled you away from the door.  You kicked and screamed, struggling to get away.

“You are becoming quite a pain in my ass!” Heisenberg bellowed, pulling you back across the walkway, “should I have left you shivering in the snow, fresh meat for the lycans?”

“Let go of me!!” you screamed.  The two of you were back at the first door as he hauled you against his side, grunting as he carried you down a different corridor.  Your fingers tried to grip at his arm, pulling at his trenchcoat.  You swung your arms up towards his head, but he was quick to dodge your limbs.

He came up to a door and kicked it open, slinging your body inside.  You fell to the floor and rolled into the room.  “Sit tight, doll face,” Heisenberg grinned, “I’ll check in on you soon…”  And before you could get to your feet and run towards him, he closed and locked the door.

“Let me out!” you screamed as you banged your fists on the door.  You were met with silence and with a huff, you turned around.  The room wasn’t large.  A cot was against the wall.  There was a stall on the other side with a toilet.  Two metal chairs sat side by side against the wall to your left.  To your right was a metal sink.  You went to the sink and turned on the water.  Upon close inspection, it seemed clear and clean.  Leaning down, you gulped mouthfuls of water.  You didn’t realize until that moment just how thirsty you were.

You stood and gasped for air.  What the fuck is going on, you thought to yourself.  Your plane crashed, you were chased by werewolf-like men and a mutant hunchback, and now you were locked away in a factory by some hammer wielding psychopath.  Would you ever be able to escape?  If anyone located the crash and saw that there were no survivors, would they just suspect that you were one of those dead and not come looking for you?

For the first time since the crash, you allowed the weight of the world to flow over you.  And as you laid down on the cot, you finally allowed yourself to break down into quiet sobs.

*

The sudden opening of the metal door woke you and made you sit up straight on the cot.  Your heartbeat instantly accelerated as you looked and saw Heisenberg standing in the doorway with a tray of food in his hand.

“Rise and shine, darling!” Heisenberg greeted in a jovial tone.  He walked over to the sink and rested the tray across it, turning his attention away from you.  Standing from the cot, you watched as he took the empty glass from the tray and filled it with water from the tap.

Without thinking, you made a break for the open door.  Your focus was on escape and you didn’t notice when Heisenberg’s left hand made a twisting motion, the cot flipping onto its side, and swinging around the room, sliding between you and the door.  You yelped and halted your retreat so as not to run straight into the bed.  Your eyes flew between the cot and Heisenberg, not able to believe what you just saw.

“Don’t you think for one second you can stop running and just sit the fuck down?!” he growled as he turned to face you, “here I am, bringing you food, making sure you are well taken care of, and you can’t rest for two seconds!!”

“How did you do that??” you asked.  Heisenberg shut the door and uprighted the cot, pulling it back to where it was.

“Magic,” he muttered under his breath, “seriously...Y/N, is it?  I’m sure you’re starving.  Just sit and eat something…”  He picked up the tray and placed it on the cot, patting the mattress beside it.  He walked past you towards one of the chairs and sat down.  You moved in time with him, moving closer to the food...but only in order to keep space between the two of you.

The smell of the stew hit your nostrils and your stomach growled loudly.  It did smell nice and you had to admit that you were incredibly hungry.  You begrudgingly moved to the bed, sat down, and brought the tray to your lap.  You picked up the spoon and dug in.

As you ate, your eyes moved from the bowl of stew to Heisenberg and back again.  You watched as he reached into the inner pocket of his trenchcoat, pulled out a cigar, and lit it with a lighter he took from another pocket in the coat.  He puffed on the cigar, leaning his head back and expelling a cloud of smoke up in the air.  The aroma wafted through the room.  

You didn’t say anything, but you always thought the smell of cigar smoke was intoxicating.

Heisenberg rested his arm across the other chair next to him and lifted his leg, putting his foot to rest on the opposite knee.  His eyes never left yours.

As you ate quietly, you took in your captor.  His boots, his clothing, the hat, and the sunglasses.  Gloves covered his hands.  His hair was long, coming to rest at chin level.  His short beard was the same shade as his hair, brown with hints of gray peppered in between.  If he hadn’t kidnapped you from the wreckage of the plane, you might have found him attractive.

Once you finished eating, you placed the tray on the cot next to you and finished your glass of water.

“How was it?” Heisenberg asked, motioning to the tray with his cigar.

“Good…” you mumbled, “...why am I here?  And how did you move this cot??  What the fuck is going on??”

Heisenberg puffed on his cigar again before standing from the chair and walking towards you.  “All will be revealed in due time.”  He took your arm in his free hand and pulled you from the bed and towards the door.

“Now where are we going?!?!” you asked, feelings of fear, dread, and disbelief surging through you once again.

“You have proven you can’t be trusted on your own,” Heisenberg said, “you’re staying in my living quarters with me…”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 19 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Reader and Spencer share the night together following her doctor’s appointment. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, degradation, daddy kink, Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), spitting kink, unprotected sex (creampie), vague mention of subdrop, aftercare included Word Count: 6.2k

MASTERLIST

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There was something about the BAU bullpen that felt like another world. The open layout and the way it could shift from frantic rushing to bored silence in seconds sometimes made me feel like I was the most normal person contained within its walls. It was a rare sight, to see me there, and for good reason. I didn’t like to be there, considering most of my time there had been spent being questioned about homicide.

But it wasn’t like that, not that morning. I’d finished my doctor’s appointment early enough that I could hopefully locate the elusive Dr. Reid before he took off for lunch. And sure enough, just as I excitedly bounced over to his desk, I heard the ever-excited, yet comforting squeak of my boyfriend as he returned with a freshly poured cup of coffee.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he practically yelled through a smile, rushing over to drop the mug on his desk. He couldn’t do it fast enough and barely made it. Once the mug was barely safe on the desk, his arms raced to wrap around me.

I giggled at the enthusiasm, considering it’d only been a couple hours since I saw him. But I was ecstatic to be with him and share the news I’d tucked away to keep safe on the way over. It was too much to bear by myself for long, and I knew he would be happy to help carry the load.

“I finished my appointment early and since I was in the neighborhood, I wanted to come see my boyfriend and give him the good news in person.” I explained. Spencer eyed me cautiously, careful not to get too far ahead of himself. I looked back with what I’d hoped was a cheeky grin, but I had a feeling it just turned into a goofy, toothy grin. Just as Spencer figured it out and his eyebrows shot up, another voice joined us.

“Mia stellina!” Rossi boomed, the bass carrying through the room like it always seemed to. It was the kind of joyful exclamation that demanded your attention, no matter how dark the circumstances surrounding you were. I knew that from personal experience.

I laughed again as he enveloped both me and Spencer in a hug that the latter only kind-of-sort-of cringed away from.

“Reid didn’t tell us that you were coming in today! I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

I snorted at the implication, stepping back to buy back my breathing space. “You’re never a bother, Rossi.” And I meant it, even if he had just interrupted mine and Spencer’s very important conversation. I could table it for a moment, though. There hadn’t been many chances for me to talk to Rossi since the hospital. Although he'd visited less frequently than Derek or Hotch, he'd still come by often enough for me to miss him. He was, by far, the most unique member of the team. People always assumed it would be Penelope, but I stuck with my contention that it’s the quieter ones you have to keep an eye on. Not that Rossi didn’t love to talk, and especially when it granted him the ability to name-drop.

“This is why I like you,” he casually reminded, waving off a slightly offended Spencer on his side. “And I trust that Reid already told you about the plans for next weekend.”

As soon as I turned to look at Spencer, he immediately looked away.

Luckily, Rossi wasn’t obtuse and quickly recognized the display of guilt. “I stand corrected.”

“What plans?” I butted in before either of them could speak. Spencer grimaced at the monotone, as he was fully aware of the level of annoyed it signaled.

“I told him to extend you an invite to the next family dinner, but it seems like he’s selfishly planning on keeping you all to himself.” Rossi’s playful tone was his way of requesting I give Spencer a break, but I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness just yet. After spending months trapped in my bed, I was always looking for an excuse to talk to anyone that wasn’t my roommate. And when it came to the team... I mean, they were like his family. It made sense I wanted their approval, right? Or was I really, honestly just seeking the approval of men like Hotch and Rossi because of my “daddy issues?” And oh, god, I didn’t want to delve into that psychology.

“How rude,” I deadpanned, instead, elbowing Spencer’s side just enough to elicit a pained exhale and an explanation.

“I was going to tell her. I was just waiting until we actually knew when it was going to happen.”

“He’s lying,” I told Rossi, earning a very adamant, denial from Spencer in the process that I brushed off. We both did. The pout that immediately followed was harder to ignore, but I could be strong.

Honestly, it was just funny to see him in this environment. When he was alone with me, he was usually the one in charge, but at work, Spencer was hardly that. It was the only chance I had to tease the ever living shit out of him with little chance of immediate consequences.

“Yeah, he’s lying,” Rossi easily deduced, waving a dismissive hand at Spencer before continuing, “But luckily, you were here. And whenever it happens, I hope that you’ll be there, too. It’s important for you to have a chance to socialize with us outside of the job.”

I smiled, finally looping my arm around Spencer’s to hopefully ease the pain caused by being ignored. Rossi, however, didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength, considering he gave another quick quip. “Hopefully you’ll bring the kid with you,” he teased as he turned away, pointing to the notably older and larger man at my side.

“How am I the kid in this scenario?” Spencer muttered under his breath, the pout still on his face, and still just as cute.

“Will do, Rossi,” I happily chirped.

“Thank you, stellina.” Rossi said with a wink, casually bringing both hands to his lips to blow each of us a kiss.

Once Rossi was fully out of earshot, Spencer sighed in resignation. He had complained before about the fact that the team had immediately felt comfortable with me, contrary to his own experience. But of course, it wasn’t fair to compare. I'd come into their lives piggybacking on their close relationship with him. Spencer didn’t see it that way, though.

“Why do you get a nickname?” he grumbled, dropping his head to the side to rest atop mine.

I didn’t let him rest there long, pushing him back away from me so that I could stand before him again. With my fingers under my chin, I flashed the brightest smile I could while dramatically emphasizing, “Because I’m a little star.”

Spencer looked down at me with a gentle adoration, his hand coming up to brush over my cheek. My face followed after him, desperate for any contact he could offer in the sterile environment. It didn’t really make much sense how touch starved I was; it wasn’t like he hadn’t touched me over the past couple months. Or even that he'd touched me any less-- if anything, it had been more.

But then again, how could I ever get enough? I was certain Spencer would call me spoiled, and in many ways, I was, but I didn’t care. If I could find a way to bottle up the way I felt when he held me, I would. Lord knows there were so many times when I'd needed it and he wasn’t there. I wouldn’t ever admit that to him, though. What would be the point?

He couldn’t always be there. Sometimes he would have to leave. 

Unaware of the dramatic monologue in my head, my boyfriend sighed. His lips pursed again while he watched my eyes soften the longer that he held my face. “You certainly are little,” he concluded. I knew he wanted to say more but feared doing so might lead the conversation down a path less suited for work. Although, what I had planned wasn’t exactly work appropriate, either.

“You know we’re definitely going, right?” I replied, peeking my tongue out from behind my lips.

With a loud groan, he took his hand back like the question had burned him. “Fine,” he conceded before quickly shifting the conversation, “but I’m more interested in what you came here to tell me. How did your appointment go?”

“It went very well. I got wonderful news,” I beamed. There were many idiosyncrasies of Dr. Spencer Reid that I absolutely adored, but one of my favorites happened to be the one where his eyebrows jumped halfway up his forehead, his eyes going wide with a curious glint. Just like they did then.

“Does this news mean you’ll be staying at my place tonight?”

“It can…” As I spoke, I wrapped both of my arms around his arm and pulled him down to whisper in his ear, “unless you want to take a long lunch break and get a head start.”

“Someone’s eager,” he replied with a snort that didn’t sound nearly as promising as I’d hoped.

“Can you blame me?”

Before I could sulk too hard, he poked me on the forehead and chuckled at the resistance I gave to the action. “Lunch, unfortunately, would not give me enough time for what I want to do to you,” he practically purred in a barely-there whisper against my ear. “When I get home, I want to find you on my bed with nothing on. Do you understand me, little girl?”

“Yes.” I had to stop myself from making too much noise, but a pathetic whimper slipped out before I could stop it.

“Good girl,” he whispered with his retreat, “I’ll see you then.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for the hours to pass me by. I couldn’t stay at the BAU for long, recognizing a sudden shift of energy as JJ began rushing them into the office right before I left. At first, I thought it was a case, but Spencer assured me it wasn’t. He promised me that he would be home that night, and that I didn’t need to worry.

But the hours did not fly by; they took their sweet fucking time. I didn’t even bother waiting in the bed for most of them. I honestly spent nearly 8 of them rifling through the shelves in his living room, looking for a book that was both from this century and actually in English.

After I’d rifled through his cupboards and realized that he didn’t have any food, I went to the grocery store and bought food, returned, unloaded the bags, cooked and ate dinner before I came to one simple conclusion:

Spencer Reid was a filthy goddamn liar.

That was my admittedly grumpy thought when I finally crawled into his still empty bed in his even lonelier apartment. His pillow smelled enough like him that I could hug it and pretend that I wasn’t waiting for someone who was probably not going to come back anytime soon. I thought about going home, but I decided being lonely in his bed was better than being alone in my own.

My temper tantrum  kept my face sulkily buried in his pillow, so when my phone started to ring, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t notice much of anything, and before I knew it, I’d drifted off into a world where Spencer could keep his promises because his job didn’t suck.

Of course, even in my sadness my mind drifted to other memories spent there. I’d fallen back into the loop of memories of the last time we were together. I could almost feel his breath against my thighs and his hands raking over my hips. And like it always seemed to, reality and fantasy began to blur. Spencer’s hand on my thigh felt so hot, I was burning beneath it. My whole body tensed, my back arching in the hopes of finding him.

I wasn’t sure which woke me first, the low, gentle chuckle, or the whisper in my ear.

“Maybe I should change your nickname to Aurora.”

I sat up before I even registered the words. Reacting to his voice alone, my arms were already around him and dragging him back down before he could say anything else.

“You’re home!” I shouted, groggy but happy to not be alone. If I’d looked at the clock, I would have seen the hands pointing to the early hours of the next day, but it hardly mattered anymore. All that mattered to me was that he was there, in my arms.

“I guess it’s my fault for not specifying that you should be awake when I got home.”

Answering him with a sloppy, sleepy kiss on the lips, I relished the way he couldn’t stop himself from laughing through it. “I’m awake now,” I answered with a very poorly timed yawn. It luckily didn’t dissuade him, and his hands quickly worked up over my hips and beneath the sheer negligee I’d worn to bed hours earlier. 

“What’s this? I could have sworn my instructions were to not wear anything,” he chastised with a smile.

“I don’t follow instructions. You already knew that,” I mumbled back. It wasn’t until I ran my hands through his hair that I realized that he’d already stripped down to nothing before waking me up.

How considerate.

His curls seemed so much longer than before, and the movements seemed to distract him enough to grant me some mercy. We both knew why I didn’t want to be naked yet. And it really was a ‘yet.’ I truly believed that I’d eventually be able to own my body again, but that point just seemed so far in the future. Spencer didn’t want to push it. Not that night.

“I’ll let it slide this time.” He shared the words with kisses over my jaw and neck, his hands growing hungrier by the second. They skipped straight from my hips to my chest, grabbing hold of my breasts through the thin fabric. He was almost out of breath already when he murmured, “Before we do anything, you have to promise me you’ll stop me if it hurts.”

“I know, Spencer,” I droned, but he kept going.

“I mean it. Any sign of discomfort, you have to tell me.”

“I know!” I shouted with a laugh, struggling to push him away while he continued to cling to me. Finally having managed to do it, I promptly fell back onto the pillow. As I rolled my body over to lay flat, I managed to grab hold well enough that I could pull him over top of me. “Don’t ruin the mood!”

He stopped to admire the sight before him. All I could see, though, was the way he looked at me. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, and I wondered what he saw when he looked at me like that. He looked at me like he loved me so much he wanted to break me. I wished he would.

“How could I ruin anything when you look so fucking perfect laid out in my bed for me?” He growled, his nails dragging over the sensitive skin of my chest.

I couldn’t tell if it was his intention or some kind of Freudian slip, but I was reminded of the day I marred his chest with a necklace-shaped mark in a very similar fashion. The memory made me giggle. “I’m not so innocent.” The understatement of the century.

“Maybe not, but there are still a lot of things I’ve yet to show you.”

I was waiting for the but. I knew it was coming.

“But for now, we’re going to go slow.”

And there it was. I thought to myself how ridiculously unfair it was that having a good boyfriend meant actually being able to rely on them to take care of you. Even armed with the knowledge of my masochistic tendencies, Spencer was too scared to seriously hurt me. Thankfully, though, he wasn’t scared enough to stop him from sliding his hand up my thigh and slipping his finger into my drenched heat.

“The question is how slow?” he teased, recognizing from the rocking of my hips that I was more than prepared to have him then. “How much should I torture you, little girl?”

“Please,” was the only word I could whine at first, but I still saw too much restraint in his eyes. I knew that if I didn’t convince him now, I might be there for hours before he gave me what I wanted. It wasn’t the worst idea, but judging by his already bloodshot eyes, I figured I might as well speed things along.

“Please, daddy,” I whimpered much louder, tilting my hips up to present myself to him. I could feel his erection pressed against me, his palm pressing down as he struggled to decide if he even wanted to keep me in place. I could see that desire to destroy me return to his eye with a vengeance. He knew that I was challenging him, but then again, when did I not?

“Take care of me,” I begged. That was the way I succeeded in breaking Spencer; in turn, he would break me.

He grabbed my legs so quickly and roughly that I was almost dizzy with it. Wrapping them around his own hips, he lined himself up and began dragging the head of his cock over my sex. Low and wildly shaking, Spencer’s words were only barely audible over the sound of the blood rushing in my veins.

“Are you ready?” he asked, like my answer would ever change.

“Yes!” I shouted, nodding like my words wouldn’t be enough.

Spencer had barely waited for the confirmation. Inch by inch, he slowly stretched me open like it was the very first time he touched me. His movements were so precise, so gentle and undoubtedly tender, that I thought I might actually cry.

I had almost forgotten what it felt like when he touched me like that. I would never admit it to him, but with every passing second, I could feel the love rushing back to me. That connection that had felt strained was reinforced and reasserted.

He just felt so fucking good. And apparently, Spencer had similar thoughts in mind.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his head falling forward to knock our foreheads together. There was clearly so much effort going into not hurting me that I just found myself hoping he was still enjoying it. That train of thought made it more difficult when his next question came. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it feels so fucking good,” I sobbed, and it was the truth. My hips, though already growing tired thanks to the months of disuse, struggled to try and take more of him. And even when he was fully inside me, I still cried out to him. “Please, Spencer!”

“Be patient,” he said with a grunt, his hips pulling back just enough for him to slam into me with more force. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

The words made a swarm of butterflies burst through my lower half that already felt so full with him. The statement just sounded so perfectly selfish in a way I’d been dying to feel for months. I wanted him to reap the rewards he’d so obviously earned. I wanted to give them to him, really, but I just couldn’t make it too easy. It wasn’t our style.

“So it’s not about taking care of me anymore, is it?” I pouted, although my lips quickly parted again as Spencer increased his pace in response.

“Are you not satisfied, little girl?” he teased, reaching up with one hand to wrap around my hair, forcing my head back among the pillows while he started to drive into me at a reckless pace. “Do you need me to fuck you harder?”

“Yes!” I yelled, my hands reaching for him, digging into his skin and bringing him closer to me. “I want it. Give it to me.”

Whether he sensed the desperation in my voice or simply couldn’t hold it back any longer, Spencer showed an uncharacteristic level of mercy on me. He barely protested at all before giving into my demands. Holding my head back in that same craned position, he laid sloppy kisses over my throat before whispering, “My little girl gets whatever she wants.”

There were no more words on my mind besides his name, which I recited over and over like a prayer. Each time he filled me, my eyes could barely stay open and my lips were nearly bruised from my constant biting. It was easy to forget that the rest of the world existed— that it was past midnight on a weeknight and everyone in the surrounding apartments would probably fucking hate us.

But Spencer didn’t seem to care either. Well, that’s a misstatement. Spencer definitely cared about my volume, but he didn’t care about other people not being able to hear it. He made that quite clear when he gripped my lower jaw in one hand and pulled it down, forcing my mouth open for him.

He had that look in his eyes again. The one that told me there were entire worlds in his mind that I hadn’t seen. Deeply hidden desires lurking just under the rippling surface. I wondered how far they went and just how much Spencer would hurt me if I could convince him to.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered through clenched teeth, his jaw tensed and eyes still burning. There was a hurricane happening behind those hazel rings, and I wanted him to let it out.

I didn’t know how to ask him to do that; to convince him to break me even while I lay before him already broken and barely keeping it together. I did the only thing I could think to do with his hand still holding my mouth open to him and presented my tongue to him.

Spencer tried to remain composed and stoic as ever, but his body betrayed in him the same way it always did. His eyes. From the second they flickered down to see what I was asking for, his pupils blew out and swallowed the comforting toffee color of his irises.

With an even darker tone, Spencer chuckled, “You’re a filthy, greedy bitch.”

It’s hard to explain how much the words filled every part of my body. The way goosebumps rippled over my skin and an undeniable, almost unbearable heat burned at my face. It only got worse when Spencer finally did as I asked, gathering the saliva in his mouth just to drop it into my own.

The second it hit my tongue, I felt so irrefutably his that I was high with it. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I swallowed between hungry gasps for air. And when it was over, I presented my tongue to him again.

I did so good, sir. Please tell me that I’m good, sir.

There were no words, but Spencer praised me in his actions. He lowered his mouth to mine, his tongue sliding against mine until our mouths were connected in the basest manner. For all the destructive power he held, he kissed me so softly. He still kissed me like he loved me.

Neither of us lasted much longer. Spencer’s hand slid from my jaw to rest on my neck, and a moan tore through my chest. Even though he applied no pressure, the casual reminder of what he could do to me was all that I needed. I lost myself in the bliss of him, my hands tangled in his hair and holding his mouth against mine even when I couldn’t kiss him anymore.

His eyes watched me, still covered in the blackness of his pupils and that animalistic desire to claim me however possible. I watched those eyes the entire time I came, wanting to both grant him the submission he deserved while also selfishly wanting to see the control I had over him, too.

Spencer kept his eyes open as he followed after me, unable to resist the calling of my body, begging him to mark, use, and fill it however he pleased. I watched his eyes roll back ever so slightly, his breath hitching as he pulsed inside me in tandem with my walls that held onto him for dear life.

I was his. I'd known that before, but how easily I’d forgotten. How quickly I’d let some stranger and some lead lay claim to me and make me believe that I could be anything but Spencer’s beautiful little girl.

When all semblance of fight left our bodies, Spencer still managed not to collapse on top of me. Apparently not even me letting him spit in my mouth was enough to convince him I was alright. I wrapped my arms around him and tugged him down on top of me, feeling the comfortable weight of him holding my chest down to more manageable breaths.

That was all there was for a while; our heavy breath breezing over sweat-covered skin as we lay tangled together under the sheets. I soaked in the feeling of slightly uncomfortable bliss, enjoying the way that we didn’t care if it wasn’t perfect because it felt close enough to us.

“I missed this,” Spencer said under his breath. It was a rare showing of selfish honesty— the first time he’d admitted to me that he had been having to hold part of himself back for months. He hadn’t been able to love me like he wanted, either. He might have been worried that I would take it the wrong way, but in reality, I had never felt so relieved to hear it.

“Me too.” I returned, trying to assuage his guilt as much as I could. I knew it wouldn’t do much, but I needed him to understand how grateful I was to share the moment with him.

Then again… They do say that laughter is the best medicine. So with a bit of a giggle, I mumbled, “Not so much the next part, but this one, yeah.”

With a small, sleepy chuckle, Spencer slurred against the pillow, “You’re such a romantic.”

“Says the asshole who doesn’t have to get up,” I reminded him. I struggled to move underneath him as he seemed to drop even more dead weight on top of me.

Like I said: Asshole.

“I wish you didn’t have to get up. I don’t want to let you go yet.”

I rolled my eyes, continuing to push at his stubborn shoulders while huffing back, “It’ll only be a few minutes, Spencer. The bathroom is right there.”

Nuzzling his face into my neck, he mumbled back, “Too long.”

“I can never tell if you’re more of an old man or a big baby.”

“I don’t know, let’s stay here and talk about it for a long time,” he answered with a laugh. I hated the fact that I laughed too, my attempts to shove him off finally ceasing. He pulled his head back, looking at me with all the love in the world.

I wasn’t ready for him to look at me like that. I couldn’t explain why, but the idea of him loving me still felt so terrifying. That fear was compounded by the realization that he might see it.

“Get up, idiot,” I replied to hide that emotion. It also helped to distract me from my own thoughts, and I ended up biting on my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. It didn’t work.

“You’re so mean to me,” Spencer whined as he slowly removed himself with a small grunt.

“Only when you deserve it.”

Normally I would have eagerly gotten up myself, but I realized then just how painful it was to move. Spencer watched me with a massive, overwhelming guilt that formed before I could even think of how to prevent it. I decided it wasn’t worth it to try. It wouldn’t work. I just let him guide my legs off the bed so that I could shakily stand and shuffle off to the bathroom.

The best part about the time alone was being able to pull myself together and massage the angry scar tissue.

It won’t always be like this, I reminded myself, we can be beautiful again without it hurting.

That was the pep talk, anyway. It was the thing that got me back into the room and under the covers. Curling up by his side was like nature’s medicine. All of my muscles relaxed against him... until he turned around and ruined the perfect comfortable position.

Groaning in the least attractive manner, I pouted the entire time we readjusted. But despite my protests, Spencer looked as happy and comfortable as ever. Plopping my head back down on the pillow, I narrowed my eyes at his contemplation.

“What?”

“L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle,” he answered, which really only led to my confused face shifting to confused and incredibly turned on again. But one word in particular sounded familiar, as reminded by Rossi earlier in the day. Or rather, the day before.

“I recognize that last word. What are you saying about me, Dr. Reid?”

“It’s the final line in Divina Commedia by Dante Alighieri.” He was doing that cryptic thing again, having apparently not learned his lesson that I would always beat the answer out of him eventually, one way or another

Through a yawn, I mumbled, “What is that, Dante’s Inferno?”

“Well, Inferno is the first section, but I’m quoting Paradiso, which is the third and final installment of the overall work.” And apparently, he was also doing that thing where he taught me really interesting new things when I definitely did not have the brain capacity to understand or retain the information. We both knew I would have to Google it later, so there was no point in lingering.

“Okay, so what does it mean?”

Spencer paused, his gaze sweeping back and forth across my face like he was searching for the proper translation. Like the real answer he sought was something that could only be seen by his eyes. Eventually, he settled on a simpler and equally romantic response.

“It’s the way he describes the piece of Heaven he saw.”

But that still wasn’t good enough for my constantly curious self. It might have been the brat in me, but it was almost like he was avoiding the direct translation. Like I wasn’t smart enough to come to my own conclusion about it. “I’m going to keep asking until you answer me,” I droned, more reminiscent of a nagging two year old rather than a twenty year old. 

“Spoiled,” he remarked, lightly tapping on my nose before he sighed. “It means ‘the love which moves the sun and the other stars.’”

I thought about the words for a minute. Or rather, I thought about trying to think about the words. Unfortunately, my exhaustion and blissed-out brain got the better of me, and the beautiful words whispered, in English this time, went in one ear and out the other. Spencer was giving me a smug little smile, like he could see my cluelessness written on my face.

“I like the Heaven explanation better,” I sneered, trying not to let him win this one just yet. But it was obvious from the way his smile grew that he’d already won. 

“Yeah, I knew you would. You just had to keep asking.”

Snaking my hand around his waist, I pulled myself flush against him. “I’m a very curious kitten, Dr. Reid,” I purred, gently rubbing our noses together in a very successful attempt to distract him from gloating. 

And in a brief flash of self-awareness, I realized how utterly normal I felt. It wasn’t just average; unlike the domestic moments we’d shared over the recovery, this one felt so... natural. There was nothing foreign about his hand on the small of my back, and the rhythm his fingertips tapped felt like a lullaby I’d heard a million times before.

“I wouldn’t want you any other way,” Spencer whispered, breaking me from the brief aside and back into the present. 

“I’m pretty sure you’d have me in any form.” I didn’t laugh yet, but once Spencer joined in, there was no hope left for me.

“Yeah, probably, but you don’t have to point it out!” he whined.

I watched as the color started to form on his face, first starting with his ears and nose before spreading out across his cheeks. That blush, still visible in the dim light, was still one of the most beautiful things in the world to me. I never tired of it. Paired with his embarrassed giggles mingled with my own, I felt the undeniable and overwhelming emotion that could only be described as ‘love.’

When the laughter finally ceased, it was just the two of us in silence again, although now we were so close together that we might as well have been one person. It felt that way sometimes. Not like one might think— it was not the supposedly romantic but strangely depressing idea that we aren’t whole without another. It was more like knowing that I would never be more myself than I was when I was in his arms.

Comfortable. Safe. At home.

“Spencer?” I spoke before he could fully close his eyes that he somehow kept open for me. 

“What’s up?”

“Thank you.”

That seemed to wake him up, which was not at all my intention. In fact, I'd hoped he wouldn’t respond at all and let the words stand. But he must have heard the hidden message behind it, the fear that all good things must come to an end.

“For what?” he asked. His hand on my back started to make soothing strokes under the negligee, reasserting his presence with me.

I considered answering. I thought about word vomiting all of my fears of inadequacy and broken promises and a future of settling for me. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t ruin the moment with such stupid things. The feelings would pass with enough time, right? I didn’t want to bother him with it. I didn’t even know if the problems were problems at all.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m happy and I love you,” I said, instead.

Spencer still saw that I was hiding something, but we were both too tired to push it. We could always talk about it in the morning if we remembered, which I was hoping we wouldn’t.

“I wish I could help you understand how much I love you,” he murmured, removing his hand from my back to trace my jaw. “I can tell you that I want to marry you and raise a family with you but… I don’t think it’s enough.

My stomach immediately dropped. It fell so hard that I actually flinched from his hand, my face twisting into an even more obvious grimace. If my hope was for Spencer to sleep, I’d made a grave error. He immediately shot up onto his arm, cupping my face and inspecting my eyes for any persisting sign of pain.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed, his eyes bouncing back and forth between my stomach and eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing is wrong!” I squeaked, my hands flying to his shoulders to pull him back down. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Our eyes locked in a challenge; a silent back and forth of wills and pleas. And eventually, Spencer started to lower back on the pillow. He’d let me win this one.

“It is past your bedtime,” he said with only a whisper of defeat in his voice.

“It’s past every normal human being’s bedtime, Spencer,” I said before turning away from him in the hope that it would make that concern in his eyes hurt less. It didn’t.

“And you think I’m the old man,” he joked back, snuggling up behind me and sighing into my neck as his hand rested on my hip. “Goodnight, little girl.”

So soon after he spoke, he was already asleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so simple for me. Even in his sleep, Spencer’s hands found their way to my stomach. His fingers spread over the expanse of skin like the scars didn’t exist at all. Like it was just as perfect a placement for him to hold onto me as it ever was before. Spencer had a tendency to hold me with so much love that I no longer felt capable of containing it.

It was... suffocating. It took my mind back to images of his blood soaked hands in much of the same position. His hands felt foreign again, and I felt even further away. Like Spencer wasn’t actually there, and neither was I. All that he was holding onto was memory instead of me.

He said he loved me, but he didn’t say why. The only answers my mind would consider were things that had already died months ago. Things that his hands and kisses couldn't fix.

I couldn’t ask him why. I was too afraid of the answer.

 —————————————————

| Part 20 |

[tenthgrove]

500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 3850

Warnings: Mild Violence

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

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Pt 8 - Birthday Cash (part 1)

Sunlight shined through your curtains as the sounds of the city outside you started to wake you. Slowly you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. When your eyes came into focus you took a look at the calendar you hung beside your bed. The date of it read October 1st, 2002. Today was your birthday. Shooting up from your bed you ran down the stairs of your home into the living room. Standing there were your two parents.

"Happy birthday!" Your parents exclaim

You looked around the room to see balloons and decorations everywhere. Every year, your parents went all out for your birthday. To both of them, your existence was a miracle and they wanted to show how grateful they were to have you. Even when you were small and they knew you wouldn't remember what they had done for your birthday they still went all out. You were their little princess and all they wanted to do was make your day the best it could be. As you looked around the room you saw decorations from wall to wall. There were streamers and balloons as far as the eye could see. You made your way over to your parents who both gave you a big hug. 

"Alright sweetie you sit tight right here and your father and I will be right back!"

Taking a seat on your living room couch you sit and wait for your parents. When they come back into the room you see your mom carrying a cake and your father carrying a box. Your mom places the cake on the living room table and takes a seat to your left side while your dad sits to your right. The two of them sing happy birthday to you and when you have your wish in mind you blow the candles out in one go.

"What did you wish for?" Your dad asks you

"Honey, you know wishes don't come true if you talk about them." Your mom says

"Oh fine, I won't pry." your dad responds "Anyway I've got one of many gifts for you right here. Do you want to open it?"

"Of course!" You reply excitedly

Your dad places the box in your lap and you gently undo the ribbon tied around it. Opening the box you remove the tissue paper and see the gift inside.

"No way! It's exactly what I wanted!" You exclaim

Inside the box was a replica of the diary for The Princess Diaries. The movie came out a little over a year ago and since then you were obsessed. You wanted the diary from that movie specifically because you loved how it needed a locket that fit it perfectly to open it up. 

"Well, you had been talking about the journal ever since you saw the movie. It took a while but we had it custom made for you. It's practically an exact replica except we had it so yours could fit more pages." Your mom explains

"Do you like it?" Your dad asks

"I LOVE IT!" You reply "But where is the locket?"

"Lift up the diary." You mom says

When you lifted the book up you saw not one but two lockets. 

"Why are there two?" You ask

"Well, we wanted to make sure that if you lost the first one you could have a second one handy." Your dad responds

"Keep the second one in a safe place." Your mom says

"I will!" You reply

You knew exactly where you were going to keep the second locket but for now, you spent some time with your family eating cake for breakfast and taking in all the time that your parents had spent to make your day special. When the three of you finished your cake your dad states,

"Your mom and I have one more surprise for you but we need to go to the bank to get it. Go get ready so we can head out." 

Excitedly you run upstairs and get ready. When you finish you eagerly wait for your parents downstairs. Once all of you have everything you need to go, you head out the door and off to the Capital West Bank.

__________________________

Today was October 1st, 2002 but in the Hargreeves household, this day was just like any other. Reginald Hargreeves cared little for birthdays or the acknowledgment that his children were another year older. Like for past birthdays, he merely congratulated them on not passing yet and went on with his day. Unlike Reginald, Grace was much more sympathetic and caring towards the kids and tried to make sure that they all felt special on their birthday. When the children came down from their rooms for breakfast she made sure that each one of them got their favorite thing to eat. She also wished each individual child Happy Birthday as she handed them their plates. This was the routine that occurred every October 1st since they could remember, but this year it would be a little different because the kids knew that later today they would get to celebrate with you. While they kept quiet when their father was at the table, the minute he left the chattering of excitement amongst the six siblings was unstoppable. Each one of them presented their ideas for what they wanted to do for a fun birthday. Diego suggested,

"We should play pin the tail on the donkey but instead it's balloons and we have to pop them with knives!"

"Diego, you would win that one automatically." Allison comments

"And? I want to be a winner on my birthday." He replies with a wide grin

"Well, I want to have a dance party for our birthday!" Allison says

"Oooh, I can get on board with that." Klaus comments

"I want to duet playing happy birthday with (Y/N)." Vanya comments

"And I think it would be fun if we just sit around and talk," Ben says

"Maybe if we're lucky she'll bring over presents and we'll actually get stuff this year!" Luther adds

"What do you want to do for our birthday, Five?" Vanya asks turning the attention to him

"I bet he wants to kiss (Y/N)." Diego interjects making kissy faces at Five "Mwah mwah mwah oh (Y/N) I love you so much!"

"Shut up." Five says looking away from his siblings, heat rising to his face

"You're not denying it." Luther teases

Luther and Diego start to tease their brother more and Klaus starts to sing,

"Five and (Y/N) sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Fi-"

"Ugh! Leave me alone!" Five says grabbing his breakfast and getting up from the table

Five then flashes away to his room. His siblings were so annoying no matter what day it was. Ever since he had accidentally told them about a month ago that he loved you, they relentlessly teased him about it. Well, Diego, Luther, and Klaus did with Allison chiming in here and there. Ben and Vanya were more so supportive and stayed out of his business, which he appreciated. Nevertheless, it was difficult to deal with their incessant teasing. Yes, he loved you and yes, he's thought about kissing you but he couldn't find the courage to go through with it. You were his best friend, his only friend and he didn't want to lose you because he felt a certain way and you didn't. It was a risk he just wasn't willing to take because he couldn't be sure how you felt for him. Five sat down on his bed and angrily munched on his birthday breakfast hoping that soon enough something would happen to make the day more exciting.

__________________________

When you and your family arrived at the Capital West Bank you took a look around. It was very nice looking with high ceilings and a balcony upstairs that worked its way around the main room. Your father approached the counter and you followed. You ignored the conversation your father and the clerk were having and continued to look around. You saw many different people in the bank, some standing around, some going and then some coming in. As you watched a group of men walk in the door you grew suspicious. In your gut, you felt something shifty about them. Cautiously you watched them out of your peripheral to see what they were up to but to not be obvious about it. A bank teller then steps out from behind the counter and walks you over to a set of stairs directing you and your family up them. Bringing you to a back room the teller uses a key to unlock the door. In the room, you see wall to wall safes. Each one looking just as heavily secured as the next. Your father takes a step towards one of them and entered a passcode. When the safe opens in there is an exact replica of Princess Mia's tiara. Your father gently grabs it from the safe and places it on your head.

"A perfect princess tiara for our perfect birthday princess." Your mom comments

As you relish in the sweet moment with your parents you all hear some commotion from downstairs. Your family and the teller head out of the room and watch from the upstairs balcony as chaos breaks loose downstairs. You can hear the screams of other people in the main lobby as the men who you had a bad feeling about pull out some guns and start threatening people. The banker pulls you and your family back into the back room. Quickly your dad takes the tiara off your head and puts it back in the safe before closing it swiftly. The banker that brought you upstairs calls 911 and details the situation going on, but before he can finish talking to the 911 operator a couple of members of the who were in charge of this robbery shoot him. The criminals, uncaring of what they had just done to an innocent life proceeded to make their way over to you and your parents. Your parents get in front of you to put space between you and the criminals but it is useless because they end up forcing you three down on the ground and put duct tape around your wrists. As you're on the ground you give your mother a pleading look but she shakes her head no. You knew that you could use your powers to get you and your family out of this but your mom didn't want you to in fear of people taking you to do experiments. You let out a sigh as the robbers sit the three of you up. One of them sends the others outside to guard the room before turning to your father to interrogate him.

"Now tell me where this tiara is." The criminal commands

This is not how you expected your birthday to go.

__________________________

For the Hargreeves kids, their birthday was going the same as always, which is to say not much excitement was going on. They all separated and started to do their own things but their activities were interrupted when Reginald yelled,

"Children come down to the parlor immediately!" 

All the children made their way down to the parlor as quickly as they could. Standing in an orderly line from 1 to 7 the children look to their father to hear what he has to say.

"You have been training to use your powers for years and now you have been presented the opportunity to go and demonstrate them to the world. The Capital West Bank is under siege by a group of robbers and the patrons inside have been taken as hostages. There has been a standoff with police for about two and a half hours at this point and I intend for you children to finish it. Get out of your pajamas and get in your uniforms, we leave in 10 minutes sharp."

The children run off to their rooms and rush to get ready for their first-ever mission. This was not quite the excitement they were looking for but nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Within 10 minutes' time, all the children were ready to go. Quickly, they made it to the bank. The six children with powers devised a plan to get inside while Vanya stayed with Mr. Hargreeves looking at the scene from afar. All the kids minus Luther make their way into the bank through side entrances trying to not get caught. As nonchalantly as possible Allison walked towards the main part of the bank. As she did so she saw one of the criminals talking on a walkie talkie.

"Hey get them behind the counter," He said to some other robbers using his gun to gesture "Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't wanna do. SHIT!"

She approaches the man and stands their innocently.

"Hey get back with the others!" The man commands to Allison

"I heard a rumor... Allison replies

"What? What did you say?" The man asks

Allison then leans in towards the man and repeats herself. Putting a hand up to her mouth she says,

"I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot."

Under the command of Allison's power, the man turns to his accomplice and aims the gun at him.

"Hey dude, what the hell?" the other man asks

The man under Allison's power then shoots his friend in the foot before shooting again. The other man falls to the ground and accidentally shoots off rounds from his automatic weapon. The hostages of the bank scream in fear. A crash then comes from the ceiling as a bunch of glass rains down into the bank. Along with the glass is Luther who jumps down into the bank, grabs one of the criminals banging his head against the counter before throwing him out of one of the high windows. Within seconds Diego runs in brandishing his weapons of choice,

"Guns are for sissies, real men throw knives!" He exclaims throwing his knives and redirecting them towards one of the gunmen 

The knives manage to hit the gunman in the shoulder and his heart. After the one gunman got hit by Diego's knives, the man standing next to Allison came out of his trance and ran away from her towards the counter. As the kids and robbers continue to fight chaos continues to ensue throughout the whole building.

__________________________

You and your parents had been in the backroom upstairs for what felt like hours at this point. The man who stood before you kept yelling at your father to tell him where the safe that had your tiara was. Somehow your dad had avoided the question thus far but the criminal was becoming inpatient. The robber was about to speak again when the sound of gunshots rang out from downstairs.

"We're gonna have to move this along. If you're not going to tell me straight up then I'm just going to have to force it out of you!" The robber yells

The robber then grabs you and holds the gun in his hand against your head.

"You should let go of me before something happens." You comment calmly

"Aw, what are you gonna do? Cry?" The man mocks

"You asked for it." You reply

In one swift motion, you phase backward through the man and kick him towards a desk that was in the room. As he falls over it you grab the letter opener and stab the man in the back with it hitting his heart. Undoing your parents' bindings you tell them,

"Stay here."

"But-" Your mom interjects

"STAY HERE" you command them

Within a second's time, you had phased through the door and into the middle of the upstairs hallway. Making yourself visible you use your powers to manifest the tiara in your hand and hold it up.

"Hey!" you yell grabbing the attention of the armed robbers "Looking for this?"

The angry men start to chase you but you turn invisible.

"Where'd she go?" One of them asks

One of the men walks down the hall to see if he can find you. Once the men are on two opposite side of the hall you reappear and taunt,

"If you want this crown you'll have to kill me for it."

The two men turn their guns on you and start to rapidly fire but you use your powers to make them go through you harmlessly and the two men end up killing each other. After you confirm they were incapacitated you hear a voice yell,

"Get back you freaks!"

Looking down from the balcony you see a man standing on top of the bank counter surrounded by Allison, Diego, and Klaus in their academy uniforms. You wonder when they got here but continue watching. the man points his gun at each of them he demands,

"Hey be careful up there buddy," Klaus comments

"Yeah, wouldn't want you to get hurt" Allison chimes

"Get back now!" The criminal demands

Five flashes behind the man so he is sitting criss-cross on the counter.

"Or what?" He asks with a cocky smile

The man turns his attention and gun to Five and starts shooting but Five had flashed away before any bullets could hit him. Flashing behind the man once more he crosses his arms, a serious look on his face. The man on the counter turns to him and starts clicking a stapler at him. Five looks down at the stapler before sarcastically commenting,

"That's one badass stapler."

Immediately after though Five forcefully pushes the man's hand. The stapler hits hard causing a gash in his head and the man to fall off the counter. Your jaw drops and your heart starts to race a little. 

"Damn," you whisper to yourself

Something about him kicking that guys ass was really attractive to you. Forgetting that you were in the middle of fighting one of the robbers grabs you and takes the tiara out of your hand. You phase out of his arms and say,

"Either the crown goes down on the group or you go up in the air."

"You're not getting this back." The man states

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

And with that you make it so this man's molecules are extremely light and hang him upside down in the air over the lobby of the bank. Freaking out he throws the tiara over the balcony and it lands by your feet. Not part of your plan but you are satisfied nonetheless. You continue to leave the man hanging as you watch your friends downstairs. Outside the vault five of the six children stand in a semi-circle around Ben.

"Do I really have to do this?" Ben asks

"C'mon Ben there are more of them in the vault," Luther says

"I didn't sign up for this," Ben says in a resigned tone

Ben enters the vault and begins to take out the men in their one by one. From across the room the man you were holding yells,

"Put me down!"

The five children left outside the vault switch their attention and see a man dangling upside down in the air. Looking slightly above him they can see you standing on the balcony above.

"I said put me down you crazy bitch!" 

"You got it." You reply with a smirk before making the man's molecules extremely dense

The man rapidly falls down towards the floor of the lobby and impales himself on a flagpole. Five looks up at you an admiring smile on his face and awe in his eyes (even if they were hidden behind a mask). He had never seen someone so beautifully kebob a man. 

"Wow." Five said to himself

The hostages in the bank start to run out of the building screaming. You transport yourself downstairs to the middle of the lobby and watch the bloodbath occur behind the translucent glass of the vault. When it stops you see Ben slowly step out from behind the door and he can be heard saying,

"Can we go home now?"

You see the children walk around the counter to make their way over to you. Even behind their masks, you could see the excitement in their faces especially that of Five. The children approach you but as they do you can see one of the men still alive get up and quickly make their way over to your group. Raising their gun up, they point it in their direction. He could've aimed at any one of you but he pointed his gun at Five. Quickly reacting you yell,

"Five watch out!"

You then transport your molecules so that you are between Five and the gunman. The gunman pulls his trigger but you push his arm up so that the shot hits the ceiling. You wrap your hand around his neck and look him in the eyes. Adrenaline rushing through your veins all you could think about was how this man almost killed the boy you loved. You were about to say something when,

*BANG*

Your entire top part of your body was covered in red. The body of the man falls backward and you see that all that was left was the shoulders down. You blink a couple of times coming to the realization of what you just did. Slowly turning to the group of kids Diego exclaims,

"HOLY SHIT (Y/N), YOU BLEW HIS HEAD OFF! THAT'S SO COOL.”

"Uh, thanks." you comment before gesturing to yourself and adding "Hey Ben, looks like we're twins now.”

You see a smile appear on the face of the boy who didn't want to be here in the first place. He didn't say anything but it brought him comfort to know you were in the same boat as him. You watch as Five opens his mouth to say something but before he can you hear someone screaming your name from above you. Turning around you see your parents. You wave to them from the lobby floor.

"Hi, mom! Hi dad!" You say as if nothing was wrong

You and the Hargreeves kids all watch as your parents rush down the stairs to get to you. When your mom gets to you she crouches down looking all over you for injuries.

"Oh my god (Y/N) are you okay? You're all covered in blood!" She cries

"Don't worry mom, it's not my blood!" You say with a positive attitude

Your mom wails in distress at the sight of her baby covered in someone else's blood.

"Honey, I don't think that was the right answer." You dad comments putting a hand on your mom's shoulder

"Oh uh, well then it is-" You start to say

"No don't finish that sentence, that's not it either." Your dad adds

Your dad helps your distressed mom off the floor and places a hand on your back escorting you all to the door. As the three of you walk he says,

"You know what. We're gonna go home and you're gonna get all that blood off you and then your mom and I are going to lay down for the rest of the day while you do whatever makes you happy for your birthday.”

The six children watch as you make your way out the door with your parents but before you exit you turn to smile at them knowing that you would see them later. As soon as you leave the kids rush out to the front steps so that the public can acknowledge them for the first time. This was the most exciting birthday they had had so far but they all knew it would only get better once you came over to celebrate later.

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