#like they have holes in their knowledge of eachother and they are staring at a giant hole

[decadentrot]

Summertime Record Aftermath ch1 pt 5

Prequel Animatic, Index

Current Chapter: Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5

UPDATES BIWEEKLY (so next time 2nd)

Anya talks about Loid and Yor and I"ll leave it to yall to figure out whether Nightfall actually believes Anya knows something is up. Also woo actually moving more of the plot along with Anya having a new mission.

~Also if this was like actually a manga and stuff, this would be the end of chapter 1 (or mission 1 as they label it in sxf) because guess what we have reached 35 pages in 5 parts woo 🎉I might just make a separate index post cause i have a feeling this is getting too long

[kill-the-hand-of-shakespeare]

“We’re just two slow dancers.

Last ones out.”

—

The bookshop was a mess of scattered books and toppled furniture. Pages fell from the upstairs landing and flittered to the floor seemingly in slow motion. It was eerily quiet.

The last place on earth.

It will end, as it started, in a garden. And not the garden of Eden- where god had begun it. No. The last place on earth; that was now fire and molten lava, was the bookshop- a garden of knowledge. And Crowley stared at it from his place on the floor, defeated.

He had done everything. He had tried to stop the second coming with everything he had, but it was all futile. He was half of a whole, always had been. His other half, who had abandoned him, was across the room staring at the mess he’d made.

The demon could see the gears turning in the angel’s mind. See the way his fingers shook where they were pressed against his lips; how his head turned and gaze flicked quickly around the space, mimicking an animal of prey. How he stumbled about and muttered under his breath, unsteady in every sense of the word. He watched an exhale leave him like Azira had been punched in the gut when he looked to where Nina’s shop had once been, and instead was met with the vision of flames and hot liquid from middle earth.

Crowley could see the cracks forming on porcelain skin, and refused to watch him break. The Angel didn’t deserve an audience.

He took a long swig from the bottle of red in his hand- it tasted shit, but got the job done on numbing the hole that was growing in his chest from his emotional turmoil.

He let his head fall back and hit the wall, press into it like his back was doing, and pulled his knees up closer to his chest.

Closing his eyes tight, he listened to the Archangel shuffle around the bookshop and whisper to himself. He couldn’t make it out, but it was something along the lines of ‘What have I done? She wouldn’t want this... this... this wasn’t the plan... this... this isn’t what was supposed to happen.’

Crowley kept his eyes closed. The shuffles grew closer, and soon enough he felt a vibration through the wall as Aziraphale fell against it and slid down to the ground heavily.

They were quiet. Crowley swallowed hard. He could feel Aziraphale holding his breath, and that only meant one thing.

He didn’t flinch when he Angel let out a quiet sob.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked to the Angel on his right, seeing his face turned away from Crowley. The Angel needed to be close- maybe for comfort, but was too embarrassed to look at his once friend- maybe even lover. He couldn’t let Crowley see the hot tears fall down his pain-twisted face.

Crowley sighed through his nose and set the bottle down on his left, before he reached up slowly and took off his glasses, setting them beside the bottle. He looked at Aziraphale for a moment and he took in a breath, clearing his throat. He smelt the smoke seeping into the bookshop. Tasted it.

“Aziraphale, look at me.” He said, his voice hoarse from yelling pleads to cease the chaos as the world went to ruins. The Angel shook his head and let a quiet wail leave him, hands bunched tight in his lap.

“Angel...” the word made Aziraphale almost gag, Crowley could see the lurch of his chest and stomach.

“Angel, please look at me...” Crowley asked again, and the begging tone in his voice wasn’t his choice- his body did it on its own. The pain in Aziraphale’s cries made his heart pang with guilt. Aziraphale wiped his face and turned to look at Crowley, even if it was useless- the tears kept flowing, quick and hot.

They stared at eachother for a moment, Aziraphale frantically searching Crowley’s eyes for something - anything to make this better.

“I-I’m so sorry, Crowley. I didn’t... I didn’t think... This is all my fault.” He said, looking away from Crowley to look at the bookshop, to the shadows of flames dancing on the yellow walls. Yellow he had once found cheery. Yellow like eyes of his most loved person. Yellow of home. “I did this...” he croaked, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “This is my doing...” he sobbed.

Crowley tongued his cheek and nodded slowly, looking around. He couldn’t deny it, he wouldn’t try. His hurt was too loud in his ears now- roaring like the flames licking at the bookshop doors. He chewed at his lip and jutted his chin, letting his gaze work back to Aziraphale. He looked so small. So scared. He too, was defeated. No one won a war when there was no prize, no reason truly to fight... Aziraphale knew that just as well as Crowley. And the demon’s hurt couldn’t form hatred, or anger. It would be so much easier if it did. But nothing ever came easy.

“Angel, my Angel, look at me...” he asked again, and when he held pale blue gaze, he just reached up and gently cupped the angels cheek, wiping away tears with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry, Crowley.” Aziraphale whispered again, stuttering in a breath. Crowley only nodded, and gave a sad smile.

“I forgive you.”

—

OOUF! Just a little piece from my mind after looking at @drunkenmantis works tonight. Goodnight! 🤗😈

[thalwhore]

Intermission

A little Tally fic to get down my thoughts on their turbulent dynamic. Set in a universe where Eira (oc) is the Dragonborn and Sulba (oc) is one of her followers. As always Taliesin belongs to @dynamite124 (go install his mod if you're on pc 🔫 he's so fun and worth it)

.

"You know, the only reason you're alive right now is because of Eira." The Redguard snarks, eyes focused on the opposite end of the room- anywhere but at him.

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that fact. If not for her I'd have probably bled out back then." Taliesin replies, still dutifully bandaging his comrades wound. "It's a miracle really, that she even stumbled across me. I can't say I'm not grateful."

Sulba growls. "Not what I meant."

"What do you mean then?"

"That I'd have killed you by now if it weren't for her."

Taliesin can't help but bark a laugh. "Oh dear, something tells me you're in no position to fight at the moment. We barely got you here, I sincerely doubt you'd have held up against a single bandit."

"I could kill you in your sleep."

"But you won't."

The Redguard looks annoyed, scowling at Taliesin before returning to glaring a hole into the wall opposite her.

With a sigh, her Altmer companion snips the remainder of the bandage, securing it to her arm before packing the supplies away. "I'd recommend against magic until she comes back with a potion for you, believe me- its not pleasant to fight with."

"You're not pleasant to fight with."

"Will you please stop acting like a petulant child!" Taliesin snaps, rising to his feet. "I understand that you have issues with the Thalmor, but that's no reason for you to be so hostile to me when I've very clearly left them!"

He turns away from her, packing the medical supplies away in one of the parks Eira had given them. Ear twitching as Sulba mutters something under her breath.

"If you're going to shit-talk me, at least have the guts to say it to my face."

"I asked why I should believe you."

It gives the Altmer pause, securing the straps in silence. "Honestly? You shouldn't. We're trained in subterfuge, anyone who knows anything about the Thalmor is right to be wary."

He expected Sulba to be happy with the statement, to look at him with a shit-eating grin that says 'I got you'. But she doesn't. Instead she's staring down at her shaking palms.

"What, have I upset you?"

"Your existence upsets me."

"You- Oh not again! We're talking in absolute circles! If you're going to hate me for having the audacity to exist, at least be creative about it. Or better yet- tell me why."

"You really want to know? You want to live with that knowledge?"

"I assure you, it can't be worse than anything I learned or saw during the war. Whatever the Thalmor put you through, I probably had to participate in enacting in thricefold."

She hesitates a moment, holding one hand in the other. "Thalmor killed my parents."

Taliesin scoffs. "Hardly a unique tale of woe these days, there must be more than that."

"And I watched."

"...Now we're getting somewhere. Go on, what horrors have been burned into your memory to make you hate me?" He asks, rather flippant about the whole thing.

It receives a brief scowl from Sulba, but that expression is quickly overtaken with grief. "I...I was only eight. You already know this, but Hammerfell has always opposed Dominion rule, thanks in large part to its people. My parents were such people." She starts.

Taliesin winces. "Yes, I also know Thalmor actions there can't exactly be described as legal, even in wartime."

She nods. "My parents saw the colours of the uniform, had me hide in a crawlspace built into the home in case of such a thing. They..." there's hesitation, a shaky inhale of breath to steady her nerves. "They were both burned. A flame spell, no matter what they did they couldn't put eachother out- try as they may. And the Thalmor soldiers...they just watched, seemed to enjoy it, even."

She hiccups a sob, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle it. "The fire spread but they didn't leave- I thought I was going to burn to death with the home. By the time they left i- I was choking on the smoke, I barely managed to get out before the building collapsed on top of me."

Sulba takes a moment to steady herself, Taliesin sitting patiently all the while.

"I passed out after it, some researchers found me near the still smoldering ashes- took me with them to Skyrim. They figured I'd be safer with them here."

It's then that Taliesin finally speaks up. "I'm...I'm sorry. I know that won't mean anything to you, but I truly am. Nobody should have to suffer that, least of all a child."

She looks blankly at the robes he's still wearing. "Even just the sight of those gives me nightmares, I can still smell the smoke now, the burning flesh. Its very distinct, you know? No other scent like it."

In the morning he'd wear robes more typical of a Skyrim mage, in blue and white, a far cry from that of the Thalmor colours.

She'd nod a silent thanks, and their previous discussion remained between them alone while her general anger at his presence seemed to lessen.

A shaky bridge formed, but a bridge nonetheless.

[whiskingskin]

I don't have much knowledge about transgender topics other than being transgender myself for the past 11 years.. but it seems pretty obvious to me than in a cisgender society, 'man'>'woman'. Duh, right? Stick with me.

But that includes transgender people. If you're aspiring to be a man, or masculine, you will receive lashback from transphobic communities. No doubt in that. BUT, since you are transitioning into something desireable- a MAN, then the backlash you face also includes a begrudging respect. At least you picked yourself up and made yourself better, right? At least you aren't a woman anymore. At least now you can force yourself into spaces you may not have fit before- if only by nature of being The Man in the room. Your opinion gains a little validity, now, because you are a man, and while men can be stupid, the most stupid man is better than the smartest woman. You become comfortable in this. You ask your coworker if she would mind dropping this off for you, just really quick, it wont take her long. The country, the world, runs on the mindset that Men Came First, and always will. This feels good. It is addicting to be looked at first when the room asks a question. It feels amazing when you can walk through the gym, headphones in, knowing you're just Some Guy now, and you can workout in peace, without constant stares. Things are difficult, but the grass is greener, right?

So. you transition to a more fem appearance, or to a woman. You will receive backlash from every community. The girls who adored you as their 'token gay friend' will despise that you want to be them- that your presence will no longer bring safety, but more violence, from The Men. You are no longer their fun, safe Man. You are now a weird an off-putting Girl. Despite popular belief, women are not raised to be sweet. They, we, are raised to claw our way to the top. To be the prettiest, the smartest, to be the responsible one, to rip your sails and patch her own. They will smell your fear, and belittle you, because doesnt everybody know This Is What Its Like to Be A Woman? It doesnt occur to them that our society hates women more than it loves anything else. She knows, deep in her bones, but she doesn't want to be Too Political. There are infinite ways a woman can be Too Much. There are very few a woman can be Enough, as she is. They hate eachother, in little ways they never voice but in a whisper to her mirror at night. Your friend shows you a good primer and foundation. She insists you need it. The desires of Men fill countless candy colored tubes in her makeup bag. She insists she does it for herself. You wonder about Pore Size, when before, the miniscule holes in your skin weren't even a concept that had to be thought about, much less adressed. Now, you cleanse and tighten every morning, because they won't yell at you, if you dont, but their eyes will flicker and twinkle at the difference between, and she'll ask if you slept badly, if you are feeling okay. You ask your friend to join you to the gym, for the first time, because the stares towards your new leggings make your skin crawl. You just want to train, and you keep an ear bud out, because you learned the first time that His footsteps on the floor are not enough warning for what He will do. In the most liberal spaces, you will face discrimination for 'choosing' to become a Woman, becoming what is viewed as little more than livestock. Why would you choose this? Clearly something is wrong with you.

[vaguelyregrettable]

Hotel Husbands

I need a break.

Despondent and weak. We walked out of the foyer and into the fields. Well trodden, and unihabitable for any plant life. Ground zero, day after day after day.

The fear of god lives in every boot print left on these scarred lands. The memories of animals stamped out like dying embers. Clovers, dandelions, thistle, any such thing could have grown. Should have grown.

Thats when I hear them, the raucous laughter of young men. And with that, a wave of sorrow overcame me. My senses grayed, rained upon til utterly drowned. A sadness so sinister I could not pull myself from it long enough to even respond.

"You doing okay over there?"

Gods above, no. No! You fool, I am lost in this pit of sadness. Compassion absorbs my very soul. While you stumble around cocksure and ignorant, I gaze upon the burning library of Alexandria. You who has no concept of knowledge, history, of meaning itself.

But who would I be to explain the minutiae of such things to you. I would simply be another proselytizing asshole. To convince you to care would be such a grand offense.

"Hey dude, uh... you doing alright?"

The voice drew near. A worry filled it, softening the machismo a bit for an opening of emotional connection to be made.

"Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought."

Your face soured, the most honest either of us had been in a while. I studied the mans face, not quite sure if he could even be classified as such. His features so young, gentle and delicate. He was pristine, a marble statue standing in the warzone.

"Who are you?"

His blue eyes dropped to the ground. A shyness unexpected, a weakness undeserved. This thing of beauty in front of me. My heart shuddered. I was lost. You stared at me with contempt. Or perhaps jealousy. An anger, deserved.

"Call me Joshua."

"What brought you here, Joshua?"

"My father's holed up here, trying to escape my mom."

We share a chuckle, a quaint notion. At least one would hope.

"Hear he's been doing war reenactment with the others in their spare time. Aside from all the poker and drinking."

What a solitary life. For men to seek the company of themselves, rarely eachother. A consensual confinement, accepted by those who don't understand consent. A contract signed in a blood not their own.

"What brought you here, stranger?"

The only road we found led us here.

"Carried by the wind, I guess you could say."

"We don't get a whole lot of strangers around here. Pretty inhospitable place to be. No real community for miles out any way you go."

Not much of a community here either.

"This was supposed to help them, the therapists all said they'd branch out. They'd forge bonds. But my dad seems even more insular these days than ever before."

It's an epidemic, male loneliness.

It's supposed to be temporary. Til he gets his memories back. This was supposed to help all of them, remember themselves."

What's there to remember?

Your callousness and his heartfelt honesty. I felt pulled apart by the emotions of both.

"What is this place?"

Gotta be some sort of mental institution, right?

"It's a getaway. A hotel with a specific clientele."

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Trouble Bonus Scene - Part 6: A Bonus Bonus Scene

Jaskier was teased relentlessly for weeks after the curse wore off. There were more than a few 'Hey, F**k --d*mn it-- I mean Lambert!'s heard, and eventually, Jaskier just started using it as one of Lambert's nicknames, much to Lambert's irrtation.

Jaskier wasn't the only one trying to control automatic reactions. Geralt kept catching himself hovering over Jaskier.

He also had to constantly stop himself from trying to pick him up and carry him anytime he saw Jaskier stand up to go anywhere.

And perhaps the most embarrassing of all: he did That Thing.

You know, That Thing parents do to check if their child is wet. Yeah. THAT THING. He just reached down and grabbed. Geralt and Jaskier had just stood there, staring at each other, frozen in shock. Jaskier's eyes had glanced down, then back up, then he looked Geralt in the eye and said "Can you not?" . The whole time Geralt's brain was just going "I'd like to LeEeEeeeeEeEeEEeEAaAaaaavVEeeEEEeEEEEE!"

It was a small mercy that they were in the lab at the time so the only one who witnessed the violation was Yennefer, who couldn't stop cackling.

Yennefer kept catching herself either trying to spoonfeed Jaskier, or wipe his face while he was eating. And there might have been a few times she said something like "Here, lamb, let Ma help you." or "Go find your Da and tell him to...". And she kept trying to make a nest of furs and blankets on his bed when he was ready to turn in.

Geralt's brothers mercilessly teased each other whenever one of them started using baby talk with Jaskier. Eskel just owned it. If he was going to do it, he was going to have fun with it. He called Jaskier 'Baby Bird' on purpose.

Of course they all used eachother's 'Baby Jaskier' names. Coen and Aiden had the most normal sounding names. 'Cone' and 'Den' were relative tame compared to 'F**k'. And Eskel had immediately accepted the knowledge that his 'Esol' was going to end up as 'A**hole'

It was down right humiliating when somenone told Jaskier 'no' and he'd feel tears start gathering in his eyes. And then he would automatically look at Geralt. And Geralt would look at those puppy eyes and have to stop himself and just 'Hm!'.

Meanwhile Lambert was having to cover his face and growl "Don't f***ing look at me!" otherwise he was up and getting/doing what Jaskeir wanted.

And it was super awkward when Jaskier called Geralt and Yennefer 'Da' and 'Ma'. It was so embarrassing! Especially if he did it infront of the other Witchers. He wanted to just crawl into whatever crack in the wall he was closest to and hide. He was sure he could manage it. He just had to suck it in and think skinny thoughts.

He thought Vesemir was going f***ing physically ascend to the next plane of existence every time he accidentally called him 'Pa'.

And don't you dare even mention the whine that would creep into his voice when he started getting tired.

Yennefer was asking her 'lamb' if he was tired

Geralt was picking him up under the arms and trying to put him over his shoulder.

There was an uncomfortable pause as Jaskier danlged from Geralt's hands while everyone processed what was happening. No eye contact was made. Jaskier was set back down, and everyone went about their business in awkward silence.

He also had to deal with the incredibly embarrassing urge to randomly suck his thumb, especially when he was upset, or sleepy. Thank all the gods he'd been able to keep that reaction under control! He couldn't imagine the chaos it would have caused if anyone had witnessed it.

Jaskier managed to always get to his room before he started getting really sleepy. That way he could avoid any potential embarrassment. And if Yennefer and Geralt had just so happened to be tucking him in when he'd rolled onto his side and started sucking his thumb as he fell asleep, well, they never said a word about it to him.

And don't get him started on how Yennefer kept using "Hey, I wiped your a** for you!" whenever she was trying to get him to do something for her.

Jaskier *embarrassed wail* StOp f***iNg rEmiNdiNg mE, YEnNeFeR!"

Lambert perhaps made the most fatal public slip up of the entire winter. They had all been sitting in front of the fireplace, having just finished eating. Jaskier was changing his shirt after something he'd said had made Eskel spit his ale all over him.

He'd gotten the shirt on, but not buttoned yet, and made a sassy comment at Yennefer. She'd thrown a cushion at him, knocking him over backwards. Lambert had looked at him and before he could stop himself, he had leaned down and blown a raspberry on Jaskier's stomach.

It was over. That was it. Painful awkward silence blanketed the Great Hall.

"If you wanted to blow me, you could have just asked." Jaskier said with one of his quiet, playful little chuckles.

Lambert cringed. Ah f**k, he'd already made a dirty joke about it!

The Hall erupted in laughter.

Now it was even worse. Time to go hang the old medallion on the tree, find the nearest window, and yeet himself into the afterlife. There would be no coming back from this. No. There was zero hope of ever living this down.

Aiden came to his rescue. He'd given Eskel a look and suddenly he was pinning the Bard to the floor and Eskel was blasting a raspberry on his stomach. Yennefer had ugly laughed as the Witchers had lined up to take a turn, ignoring Jaskier's indignant protests.

But inspite of the jokes and the laughing, Jaskier could sense that all of it bothered Yennefer. Oh, she would talk to him, smile, and laugh as if everything was normal, but there was something in her eyes.

He first noticed it when he asked her if she would use her magic to resize the little shirts and trousers she'd bought. He'd liked the colors and the embroidery, and he wanted to wear them. She'd made light hearted comments as she handed him the resized clothing, and gone on her way, but later, when she'd seen him wearing the shirt with the birds on it and the peacock blue trousers...

She'd looked at him for a long moment, with an odd look in her eye, before telling him it looked good on him, and then turning and walking away. He hadn't seen her for the rest of the afternoon.

He was very careful to not say a word when Yennefer accidentally called him 'lamb', or 'sweetling', or when she caught herself trying to wipe his face while they were eating. While she never said it, he felt like there was some kind of anger or resentment there.

He'd vaguely explained that the fairy had twisted a wish he'd made, but he'd refused to tell them what the wish had been. He knew Yennefer would have made good on her threat to thrash his ar*e.

"Is Yennefer mad at me?" he'd asked Geralt one evening as they sat in the Great Hall.

"Hmm."

"That was a very noncommital 'hmm', Geralt. "

"Hm."

"I know you know something. She talks to me, but I just feel like she's upset with me for getting that curse put on me. I said I was sorry..."

"Hmm."

"You aren't going to make this easy, are you?"

"Hmmm."

"Fine. I'll go talk to her..."

He found the sorceress in the lab, puttering around, not really doing much of anything. Jaskier started off with a general apology, for all the trouble he'd caused. Yennefer had snapped at him.

"We thought you were going to be stuck like that forever! I had no idea what to do, or where to start looking for a way to break that blasted curse! What the h*ll did you do to get yourself cursed like that?"

"It...it wasn't a curse, per say..." Jaskier swallowed and mumbled something about wishing to be loved and adored by all, and that the fairy had twisted the wish.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was?"

Jaskier couldn't help but feel mildly vexed and a bit offended. "Well, d*mn, Yennefer, " He said in a slightly snarky tone, "I'm sorry you had to play Mommy and take care of a baby-!"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he felt his blood turn icy when he saw her physically flinch.

He reeled, ears ringing when Yennefer abruptly slapped him hard across the face. "You selfish b**tard!" she sobbed. Jaskier braced himself, making no effort to stop her as she slapped him again, "How could you do that to me?" she was suddenly burying her head into his chest.

Jaskier felt heartsick. That was the one subject he'd worked so hard to avoid bringing up in any way. It was off limits for banter, and he'd sworn to himself that he'd never use it to hurt her.

And he'd just broken that vow.

Watching her fall apart in his arms , he realized how hard it must have been for her. Realized she was grieving for what she'd given up, found briefly, and now felt as if she'd been robbed of once again.

"F**k! Yen...I..." Jaskier folded her into his arms, and said in a soft voice, "Yen, I never wanted to hurt you, and I'm sorry for what i said. D*mn my mouth! I'm sorry I forced that h*ll upon you..."

Yennefer clung to him, shaking as she continued to cry out her hurt and frustration. Jaskier rested his cheek on her hair, tucking her tighter against him. "Ah, Mother of-! I'm such an ar*ehole! I'm so sorry, dear heart! I know it must have been so painful for you. You didn't have to do it, love. You could have just told those idiots to take me and s*d off, but you didn't. You-you took me into your arms when i reached for you, even though you knew how much it was going to hurt.

Yen...I'm glad it was you and Geralt that took care of me. When I was with you, I felt...loved...

Yennefer pulled back a little to wipe her eyes, thinking about how Jaskier never really said much about his childhood, never really talked about his parents. He might not be the only Viscount in line to inherit the Lettenhove name if they didn't seem to care that he was traipsing around the countryside as a Bard.

Maybe that was why he was always falling in love with every pretty lady he came across. Maybe he was subconsiously looking for the love he'd never gotten as a child. That was it. That was the twist to the wish. He'd wished for love, and gotten it, just not in the way he'd expected.

"Thank you, Yen... Thank you for taking care of me. I-I was happy...when I was with you and Geralt, and those other morons. I don't think I've ever felt so loved and cared for in my entire life."

"You were a sweet little thing, and you were obscenely adorable, I'll admit it." Yennefer said with a small smile. "But you were a right pain in the a**, too! Everytime I took you to the market with me, it took hours because of all the women lining up to fawn over you!"

Jaskier chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of Yennefer's head. "If there is anything I can do to make things easier for you, Yen, please tell me." he said, cupping her cheek and brushing a tear away with his thumb. "Anything at all. I..I've been having trouble sleeping without someone with me... I remember Geralt putting me on his chest and purring so I could sleep...and I remember you cuddling me. I know you must be having similar problems..."

"Its funny how quickly you get used to small comforts." Yennefer admitted.

"If it helps, I could put on a daiper and-!"

Yennefer swatted his chest with a quiet laugh. Her eyes softened and she reached up and brushed her fingertips tenderly over the red marks on his cheek where she'd slapped him.

The redness disappeared, along with the lingering pain. It was a silent apology for hitting him.

Jaskier smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple before taking her hand and pressing his lips to her palm. All was forgiven. He put his arm around her and lead her out to the Great Hall.

[thegryffindorprincess]

Unforgettable//Draco Malfoy x Reader (SMUT)

A/N: Hi Lovelies! Working through my requests and stuff one at a time and love this one! Draco’s a little OOC, but it’s saucy and smutty and that’s all you Draco whores are here for, also including some platonic hermione x reader, enjoy x

Set: Golden Trio Era

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: smut, drinking, swearing, choking

“It’s not good enough for me, since I’ve been with you” 

“One fire whiskey on ice for you my love.” Draco grinned, passing Astoria the plastic cup from the table he’d just filled with her favourite drink, producing the ice from the tip of his wand. She giggled and settled into his side, letting his arm fall around her shoulders lazily. He would’ve like to say the way they stood, pressed together felt right, but it didn’t. Her bones didn’t quite slot into his properly and he stood a little awkwardly under her touch. Never the less, Draco placed a kiss to her forehead and observed the scene. Slytherin always held the best parties, that was common knowledge, especially for celebrations like OWLs. The room was decorated in silver, the streamers and balloons glistening in the pale light that always glowed from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Every student from the fifth and fourth year was attending, not wanting to miss out on a chance to celebrate properly before school and life became much more serious. As Draco and Astoria took their seats on one of the emerald green sofa’s, students began to dance, Blaise tapping his wand to the speaker positioned above the fire place, letting muggle music boom around the room. He attempted to shake off the longing looks coming from some other girls in the room, Pansy attempting to catch his gaze from the dance floor, Sally-Ann twirling her fingers in her hair at the drinks table and Tracy who was trying hard, too hard, to make eye contact with him from the sofa opposite. Draco simply kept his eyes pinned to the entrance way to the common room, as a distraction. Astoria was pining over him at his side, drawing his eyes away from the door to pull him into a kiss. As she did so, he heard the door open and most of the chat that had been filling the room stop suddenly. He glanced up to see Y/N, Hermione, Harry and Ron enter the common room, laughing amungst themselves. Everyone began to whisper or discuss in hushed voices how incredible Y/N Y/L/N looked tonight, as the four of them stepped in confidently, smiling at each other at their impression. 

“Wow.” Tracy Davis exclaimed spinning back round in her seat to face Draco and his gang who were all looking over at her, “she looks incredible.” Draco simply hummed through his lips, face blank. He watched closely as the golden foursome walked over to the drinks table, pouring their chosen beverage into plastic cups, Hermione making the ice swirl into intricate patterns in their drinks. The chat soon returned to normal, giggles errupting from corners of the room every few minutes. Draco sat with his hands pressed together, finger tips resting on his chin, watching Y/N’s every move. You see, the reason all of this was pissing him off, causing his face to knit into a scowl was because it had only been two months since they’d stopped seeing eachother, Y/N spinning him some bullshit about how she needed to focus on the golden trio and not him. And well, nobody rejects Draco Malfoy. He’d tried in the beginning to win her back, leaving her expensive gifts outside her door, persuading some first year minions to send her letters on his behalf, all of which she’d rejected. Then it turned nasty. Draco ended up fucking half of the girls in slytherin, attempting to make her come and talk to him, even if it turned into an argument. But she didn’t, she simply scoffed when Goyle would shout about loud Draco and Pansy’s sex was in their dorm room, roll at eyes at the hickeys adorning Sally-Ann’s neck and laugh with Hermione about his persuit of Tracy. What pissed him off the most though was how completely unbothered Y/N was acting, as if they’d never even spoken before. 

“Draco what’re you staring at?” Astoria asked, Draco suddenly becoming aware that his eyes were burning holes in Y/N, his gaze unbreaking. 

“Nothing.” He responded blankly. “Nothing important at all.”

XXX

Y/N held Hermione’s hands in hers as they danced on the floor together, being some of the only students who recognised the muggle songs that were playing. She loved when Hermione got drunk, her usual up-tight personality disappearing revealing a very care free one instead. Y/N herself could feel the alcohol rushing to her head as she twirled her best friend round in a circle below her, Hermione bursting into a fit of giggles when their hands became twisted and got stuck in an awkward position. 

“I am going to go to the toilet.” Hermione suddenly announced, unlinking her arms from Y/N’s and staggering away towards the stairs.

“Hang on a minute,” Y/N said, following her giggling, “I’ll accompany you.” Hermione nodded quickly, holding Y/N’s hand as they climbed the marble staircase up towards the girls toilets. 

“Such a good friend to me.” Hermione slurred as Y/N opened the toilet door for her, promising to hold it closed from outside for her. She laughed at Hermione’s drunk clinginess, listening to her babbling’s from the hallway. Just as she got comfortable a hand holding the door firmly shut, she heard footsteps coming in her direction.

“Sorry, the toilets occupied, you might have to wait.” She called out. To her slight shock, Draco appeared at the top of the stair case, gaze magnetic, jaw clenched. “Oh.” Y/N murmmered, awkwardly looking down towards her feet, the music from the common room still pounding the walls of the hallway. 

“That’s not a very polite way to greet me Y/L/N” Draco smirked, watching how Y/N still crumbled a little under his stare. “Problem?”

“Not at all, just wondering what you want with me.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, unbothered. He stepped closer.

“Just wanted a chat.” She swallowed as he moved increasingly closer, his cologne already making her throat close. 

“Thought you were a bit busy for a chat.” Y/N grimaced, moving closer to the wall and further from him. “You know, you look a bit busy chatting with Astoria,” She sent him a warning look “and Pansy and Tracy and Sally-Ann.” Draco chuckled at her feisty tone. 

“Jealous?” He teased, twirling his family ring around on his finger, looking darkly at her through his eyelashes. 

“Hardly.” She scoffed. But he could tell she was lying from the way she couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Well you might be pleased to know,” Draco began closing the gap between them with a few large strides, one of his pale hands coming up to stroke her cheek, “It’s not good enough for me, since I’ve been with you.” Just as Y/N went to respond, Hermione ermerged from the bathroom. She awkwardly glanced at the situation, mouth opening and closing like a fish before walking back wards towards the stairs. 

“I-I’m gonna go,” She stammered, turning and running down the staircase, “I think I heard Ron calling for me.” Both Draco and Y/N watched her leave, Y/N cursing her best friend for not taking her with her. 

“Where were we?” Draco began again, his hand returning to her cheek. “Oh yes,” He moved his head closer towards hers, her breath getting caught in her throat, “and it’s not going to work for you either, this stupid arrangement.” Y/N scoffed again, this time rolling her eyes.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” This time, Draco’s hand trailed it’s way from her cheek to her throat, squeezing just gently enough that she began to squirm. 

“Because nobody can equal me.” Then he closed the gap, his lips pushing against hers, causing her to moan slightly as his teeth bit on her bottom lip. “No more games princess,” he cooed, “tell me what you want.” Y/N grabbed onto his back needily, moving closer to his ear so that she could whisper in it. 

“Just fuck me Malfoy, you know it’s what we both need.” He growled then, attacking her neck with his mouth, carrying her on his front down the hallway to his dorm room, opening the door effortlessly with his free hand. He barged into the room, striding straight to his bed, laying her down roughly, so that her legs were dangling off of the edge and she was on her back. Draco growled again when her dress rode up just high enough so that her panties poked out underneath, his dick hardening with every new inch of flesh he got to see. 

“Fuck.”  He breathed out, watching how she squirmed every time his finger tip touched a new part of her body. He took off her dress, discarding it carelessly to the floor, unbothered about where it went. Then, he hooked his fingers in her thong and yanked it down, watching how she gasped when the cold air from the room hit her. He grinned as he stroked her slit with his fingers, making her let out a string of profantities and his name. “God, say my name again princess.” He hissed as he inserted a finger inside of her, pumping it in and out roughly.

“Draco!” Y/N exclaimed, eyes squished closed as he inserted a second finger into her pussy, She moaned loudly as he sped up, his other hand coming up to her clit, rubbing it in a way that made her hands shoot to his hair, pulling at it. “Don’t stop,” She cooed, making eye contact with him finally, “please don’t let it stop.” He grinned at her pleading but complied, continuing his movements until her shaking legs gave way, her cum wetting his fingers. He pulled them out after her climax before placing them into his mouth, sucking them clean. 

“Sweeter than honey.” He announced, standing up and pulling her so that he was above her. She simply whined as he undid his belt swiftly, pulling out his cock, letting it spring free. “God,” He whispered as he lined himself up with her entrance, “nobody takes this cock like you do.” Draco pushed himself in, making her hiss with pleasure as she took him. He began to thrust into her, the slight curve of his dick hitting the spot inside of her that made her writhe in pure pleasure. “None of those stupid little whores take this cock as good as you princess.” He muttered into her ear as one of his hands came up to snake around her throat, his mouth peppering kisses on her forehead. “Whose my best girl?”

“Me!” Y/N moaned out, feeling his dick reach places that nobody else could, no matter how hard they tried. “I’m yours Draco, I’m yours.” He grunted out at her words, never so pleased to hear the phrase. He continued to hit her G spot over and over again causing her legs to start shaking again. “Dray I’m gonna-”

“I know, I know, let it princess.” He cooed at her gently, moving a strand of hair out of her face as it contorted into an “O” shape. Her legs began to vigorously shake then and Draco could feel her walls tightening around him. “Oh shit, I love you Dray, I love you.” She cried as he felt her cum. He growled into her ear at her tightness, letting his thrusts become sloppy inside of her. 

“I love you too.” He moaned into her ear as she felt his cum release inside of her all at once, causing him to collapse on top of her in exhaustion. Y/N sighed happily as he moved off of her to fall at her side. “Can’t believe you spent two months ignoring me just to tell me you love me.” He smirked, fake gasping when she began swatting his arm. 

“You said it back after fucking half of slytherin.” Y/N replied defensively, melting into his arms as Draco pulled the covers over them, snaking his arms around her waist, pulling her into him, kissing her neck gently. 

“Yes but nobody compares to you Y/N, never will.” Draco whispered gently, feeling any tension in Y/N’s body melt underneath him. “You are absolutely unforgettable.” 

[shlutnutt]

Smutty Kai request!

The reader is an alternative girl so like piercings, tattoos and fishnets…the whole nine yards.

She decides to pay a visit to Kai after seeing him at a rally, she’s been on the edge of death multiple times and is in no way afraid of dying. He tries to manipulate her in true Kai fashion but it doesn’t seem to work, he’s more drawn to her than she is to him. She is not afraid of Kai in any way no matter how he threatens her, it turns her on more than anything. He ends up shoving a gun in her face only for her to suck it off.

Rebel

w: dom reader x dom kai, smut, marijuana usage, gun kink, slapping, choking, language usage, etc

requested by: @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul

The man continued to speak, you finding it incredibly difficult to make up the words that fell out of his lips from the thick joint you smoked earlier and the loudness of the crowd. "have a nice day." happened to be the last few set of words you were able to acknowledge, him passing you a tiny white card with a wide sympathetic smile before practically disappearing passed the huge tinted exit doors that resided in the back of the rally. Losing no time you went out of your way to read the card handed to you, it having printed out the stranger's name and address (Kai Anderson, 555 Apple st) accompanied by a bold quote stating "join me. let's take over the world"

You quickly followed your way out to him immediately after reading the card, in attempt of asking him a couple of questions. Just for Kai to be nowhere to be found, as you stood there only being surrounded by empty cars parked neatly in the parking lot.

"shit." you mumbled to yourself, before speeding off in your own car directly to the printed address, sliding the fact that going to an unknown address to meet up with unknown man was practically considered a death trap, but you of course, didn't mind it not one bit.

Soon arriving at your destination you come up against a group of middle aged men guarding the door with rifles in hand and noticeable pistols in their pants.

"hands up slut!"

"and what the fuck are you cosplaying as?"

"probably some shitty pornogaphic emo anime bitch"

"what the hell is up with you whores tgese days?"

"hey nice cheerleader skirt!"

All of their unwanted chattering drove you over the edge, as one of them dropped their weapon, ran over to you and pushed you against a nearby wall, beginning to check if you were armed yourself to clarify your entry.

"hey man check her army combat boots she might have some shit in there." another yelled out, the guy rapidly ordering you to take off your dr. marten's platforms, soon realizing you were good to go.

"what's all this bullshit for? is the president waiting for me in there?" you rhetorically questioned, causing the man infront of you to slap the right side of your face with as much force as he possibly had in him, you instantly slapping him back notwithstanding the fact that there were approximately six other armed men infront of you.

He was quick to pick up the rifle and aiming it right at your throat.

"lower the guns." you heard a familiar voice order, the men all rapidly lowering their guns at their feet in sync, all accepting the demand, replying with a firm "yes, divine ruler."

"what in the.. fuck" you once again mumbled to yourself, as you looked up at the man you've desperately been wanting to meet, him signiling you in.

He was like a king walking around in his kingdom, the black zip-up hoodie he wore slightly toning the firmness of his form accompanied by the black sweats that sagged on him just a bit, and of course the blue half up-half down that suited him delightfully. Although completely lost in his strangely unique beauty, there was nothing that could've easily taken away the curiosity that you felt from the whole scenery. From the random card, his sudden disappearance, the guards (and the fact you were technically harassed by them), to the colored pieces of tape on his fingers, and the overwhelming feeling of being there in general.

"you know its kinda dangerous driving high, right?" kai interrupted your overthinking, him filling up a glass of water and handing it to you, pointing over at a large leather black couch that stood behind you, you taking your time to take a seat. "don't you think your storm troopers are dangerous too? why do they call you 'divine ruler'? and why were they so heavily armed?". He only chuckled to your referral towards his men, heading over to take a seat beside you.

He was noticeably confident, like he owned the world and had everyone bow down to his presence. Well, but of course not everyone, not you at least. You weren't the type to submit to absolutely anyone, as you damn well knew that the idea of bowing to someone was such a pure act of disrespect to yourself, you unwilling of allowing anyone to feel superior over you being a present mental note.

Kai though, feeling like the king himself had such so many sociopathic traits written all over his face, he seemed cold, eyes full of darkness and evil, not one sign of emotion in them, not happy, not sad, not angry, nothing, there was absolutely nothing, like a robot attempting on mimicking its way out to identify as a human.

"you're not drinking the water I gave you." you heard him voice beside you, applying a slight pressure ontop of your netted thigh, you quickly meeting your gaze with his emotionless ones.

"im not really thirsty." you returned a reply, staring blankly into his eyes, just for him to break the eye contact, heading his eyes onto his right lap.

"it was to cool off your high a bit, im not interested in your thirstiness." Kai replied coldly, returning his gaze from yours back to his lap, repeatedly.

You only observed how he allowed all of his weight to sink into the couch, accommodating one of his hands behind his head whilst the other reached in between your thighs to grab the glass of water you've declined. Sipping on it quickly, you watched how a few drops dripped down from his mouth leading on to his chin and finally onto himself.

"Food shouldn't be declined, y/n." you felt anderson suddenly interrupt your thirsty gaze on him, his knowledge on your name making your eyes widen. "how the fuck do you know my name?" you quickly respond to his statement, eyeing how he playfully fidgeted with his locs, purposely ignoring you. "I said how the fuck do you know my name!?" you yelled out this time, producing his playful fidgeting to be replaced by an angry frown.

"who the fuck are you yelling at, little shit!?" he raised his voice back at you, getting up from his comfortable stance to eye you down better.

Mimicking his position now, you got up and stood infront of him, the platform of your martin's reaching up to his height, you two eyeing eachother a few inches away from each others' faces now, his infuriated, and yours stonely calm.

"Im not afraid of you, Kai Anderson."

"You should get to know me, i'll give you a reason to be."

"I doubt it."

"Oh yeah?"

Anderson only smirked to your rebelliousness and unzipped his zip-up all the way down, demonstrating the pistol he had digged deep into his pants, apart from his fitted body. Your eyes only traveled down his form, the gun in his pants, the band of his calvin clein's, and his v-line, all being your favorite combination on a man.

"Was that supposed to scare me?" you allowed your rebelliousness drive him over the edge, as he now choked slammed you onto the couch you stood infront of, pulling out the gun he had digged in his pants, aiming it fiercely onto your face.

You only giggled to his triggered self, causing him to choke you harder now, you feeling your breathing intensify with every breath you took.

"why-y are you bei-ng s-uch an ash-hole?" you stumbled in between your words, the smile not for once leaving your face, as you looked up at the man who hated nothing more than a woman feeling superior, knowing her worth and not taking bullshit from anyone. You now tried fighting back just for Kai to apply more pressure, pressing the gun closer to your face, him breathingly holding the gun and your neck down.

"don't make me fucking kill you, y/n!" he shouted, pushing the gun closer and closer onto your face, as you eyed the gun and him repeatedly, deciding to part your lips, pushing your head closer to the weapon, allowing it to enter your mouth, for you to now deepthroat it fully.

Feeling his hand loosen around your neck you couldn't help but to dampen yourself from the feeling of his bulge growing ontop of you along with his bottom lip slipped in between his teeth, whispering

"i need to know what it feels like to be inside you.."

tags// @divineruler @copy-of-a-cheeto @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood @crssjjh @myriadofcranes @mossybank @the-hotel-cortez

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas : Fair Folk

Also on AO3! 

TL;DR: 

Iida, Uraraka, Bakugo, Kirishima and Midoriya taken away by quirk traffickers, convinced they are a family of specialized quirk users. Turns out, the truth is a little bit more complicated than that: they're fairies. With Midoriya the only one able to get free is up to him to find help. Who better than the hero All Might, a man so famous among the giants that even the fae know of him?

The Folk are born with weak but variable magic, able to learn almost any class of spell but without any great talent in any area. Sometime between the ages of 4 and 15 (they age at the same rate as humans but live a touch longer) their magic specializes into an area they have a calling for. The strength of this specialization is varied, with some Folk being totally unable to use magic outside their niche and others with only a reduced aptitude for anything unrelated to their field. There has never been a case of one of the Folk not specialising.

Kirishima: Gem Creation and Rock Manipulation - gem creation is just an aspect as he can alter the way the molecular bonds in rocks are formed

Bakugo: Fire - with a particular aptitude for explosions

Iida: Wind – his control isn’t particularly powerful but hes very good at using currents of wind to propel himself to incredibly impressive speeds

Uraraka: Flight - very rare aptitude. Not only can she give wing’s their enchantments, she can make other things float. Very useful for moving heavy things.

Izuku: Nothing.

Culture (brief):

They hide from the ‘Giants’ - humans - and see them as dangerous and strange, particularly as they terraform massive areas, stripping them of their natural magic.

Settlements are found in forests, abandoned places and parks, hidden from sight with a mix of magic and clever design. Children shouldn’t leave the safety of the settlement without an adult at any time.

Wings are not actually something they are born with - instead, they are fashioned from other things and bound to their magic. If they run out - spend too long away from a source of magic + burn through their own ability to create it - they fall away and that member of the Folk can no longer fly, at least until they find more magic. It’s traditional to use leaves for a baby’s first set of wings. Wing makers are valued and rare with skillfully made sets of wings being traded from settlement to settlement in exchange for other goods. They can be made from anything really, and are mostly made from a mix of natural materials and things scavenged from Giants.

Our Folk:

Uraraka is a fledgling wing maker - too young to have an actual shop, she makes wings for her friends. She’s very good at what she does: most wings are form over function but she takes care to make sure they are just as practical as they are pretty. Iida’s are made of spider’s silk - light and strong, good for reaching high speeds. Kirishima’s have beetle wing cases to protect them from dislodged rocks. Bakugo’s are fire-resistant, Midoriya’s are balanced so they’ll be practical no matter his specialization.

Kirishima wants to help people! He uses his magic to build houses and walls and often visits other settlements to help with their protections.

Iida wants to be a guard like his older brother - guards protect the settlement from animals that might want to eat them, natural disasters and help hide them from Giants. As the five of them are currently the only children in the settlement, hes assigned himself big brother.

Bakugo has 0 idea what he wants to be, but he’s skilled in just about everything he tries so it’s not a big issue for him.

Midoriya wants to research giants and magic and try and discover all it’s forms. Folk can only specialize in types of magic they know about, so he wants to know everything that can be done to help other Folk struggling like himself. Despite the fact he doesn’t have a specialization yet, his magic isn’t half bad and the number of forms he knows is staggering. He mightn’t be particularly good at anything, but he can do everything. He’s also a big fan of heroes, even if his knowledge of them is limited to torn scraps of newspaper and thrown-away toys.

Inko passed away when Izuku was 10 (he’s now 13) and he’s lived with the Bakugos ever since. Izuku and Katsuki have a pretty brotherly relationship and give eachother shit all the time.

Plot:

kids get kidnapped by quirk traffickers who think they are just a little group of specialized quirk users. Izuku is the only one who can get free (courtesy of teleportation magic, letting him blink through the bars of their cage). Lost, hurt and so far from home, he has nowhere to go. All Might ends up saving him from a crow. Izuku - recognising the hero - asks for help. Thus begins the journey of them trying to find the quirk traffickers and All Might accidentally acquiring a tiny magic son.

The first thing All Might does when he finds Izuku (after like, saving him and making sure hes ok) is has a quick crisis bc holy shit hes so small and so sweet and fuck he’s so t i n y. Then he panic calls Nighteye, a man who he has not spoken a word to in 3 years.

dude just nighteye being like "all might why are you so focused on this one group" and all might, the worst liar to have ever existed, a miracle that he made this far, responds with "oh you know just reasons not like i have a tiny son-boy who is totally not some sort of fairy like creature hahahahahahahah" and nighteye just fucking stares at All Might while he tries to process this nonsense.

All Might can lie but no to people he knows lmao, one look at Nighteye and the man just crumbles. Izuku, who was literally just hiding in All Might’s backpack, pops out to say hi! Both Nighteye and Izuku have to take a moment because Izuku forgot just how tall Giants are and Nighteye is trying to process ‘four inch tall flying boy’. He has to sit down.

Izuku, the helpful soul he is, summons a nice, cool breeze for him because he looked pale, then Nighteye has another quiet freak out because this definitely isnt a quirk.

Nezu gets involved in the hunt for the quirk traffickers and quickly realises something is Up with All Might hunting down this random group so single-mindedly. He gets Aizawa to take a look into it. Aizawa runs into Izuku who, upon seeing a Giant he thinks is going to try to kidnap him again, throws dirt in his eyes and bolts. Aizawa is Displeased.

Yeah! All Might fills him in and he’s super embarrassed and ends up leaving a tiny ‘I’m sorry!’ note on his bedside table.

Ignoring all the stuff that happens in the middle, after the Fair Folk are saved and like, find their settlement and let everyone know they aren’t dead, the five of them actually join UA! 50% because their time with the quirk traffickers was scary and they want to save people from that, 50% because Izuku is so enthralled with Giants and their world he’d be heartbroken if they never got to return.

Under the cover of them being siblings with variations of the same quirk, they do all end up in 1A and become heroes in their own right. While they are getting caught up to speed on normal school stuff they missed, Izuku kinda ends up with 3 whole dads including Nighteye, same with the other kids to be honest. They like to hide in Aizawa’s scarf.

Some random things:

Izuku, the smallest of the bunch, is not quite 4 inches tall.

The group of them sneak out together to collect things - Izuku’s favourite thing is a tiny but detailed golden fox charm he found near a shrine.

Uraraka’s room is covered in half-finished wings and designs.

Bakugo secretly wishes his specialization wasn’t so destructive - he accidentally burnt a hole in Izuku’s second set of wings.

Iida secretly loves racing the birds nearby. Hes not meant to because they can be very dangerous, but by now they are used to him and look forward to when he shows up.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Hi I'm a huge fan of your writing! I was wondering if you still take requests. If you do, could yo do #24 with Bruno? It's fine if you aren't taking requests.

Awww thank you, I really appreciate that ☺️

Anyway here you go

Selfish

(yandere Bruno Bucciallati X female reader)

"Bucciallati, I'm starting to get worried about (Y/n), she promised she was going to help me with my maths today" Narancia said as he twirled a fork in his hand.

"Maybe she's still resting up, I wouldn't blame her after all those horrific injuries" Bruno replied calmly.

"But she never backs down from a promise, no matter how big or small" Narancia sighed as he slumped down.

"Narancia give her a break you saw her how she was in the hospital" Abbaccio sighed before pouring a cup of tea.

"I'm sure that she'll come another day" Bruno said.

After many years interrogating Bruno had learnt how to spot a liar like a apple among oranges but with such knowledge also taught him a trick or two. The key to a good lie was to be vaige and indirect and also bend the truth. With such skills he could fool a polygraph test.

"I'm sorry about the short notice but I must go" Bruno said as he stood up from his chair.

"Bruno if this is about Marcus Calliope I can sort it out" Fugo said as he stood up.

"No that won't be necessary, I'm not after him right now... This is more personal" he said as he left.

✳️✳️✳️

You screamed as you woke up as last night's memories ran vividly through your mind. Memories of you fighting back against someone's grasp before they covered your mouth and nose with a cloth covered in what you could only assume was chloroform.

You breath hitched at the unfamiliar surroundings and despite having the most homely atmosphere you couldn't help but feel afraid seeing the small slits of light that shine through the the tiny windows that were too high to see through, you were probably in a basement.

"(Y/n)!" you heard Bruno's voice call out and you instantly jumped out of the bed and ran towards his voice which lead you to the staircase thatarms before sobbing into his chest. You were so glad he had came so quickly to save you.

"I'm so sorry about scarring you last night, I swear it was in your best interest" he said as he held you tight. You instantly pushed him away as he said that.

"Wait... What are you saying?" You asked him as you slowly backed away from him.

"This is where you'll be living from now" he said I a bright tone "I soundproofed the walls as everything, isn't that romantic" he gushed lightly as he approached you with open arms.

"Why... Bruno why are you doing this?" You stuttered as you bumped into the wall.

"(Y/n) that man hurt you and I realised that your just not safe, so I made this extension to my house to keep you safe" he explained.

"Bruno you're being ridiculous! I can fight! I have a stand!" you argued.

"But amore if it happened to you once the who knows how many more times it could happen" he said.

"Amore..." You muttered, he never called you that before.

"Just stay here with me, you'll never have to worry about anything ever again" he said.

"No... No... This is so wrong Bruno! What your doing is holding me captive! Whether your intentions are good or not doesn't matter... Doing this isn't right!" You exclaimed. Attacking him was possible but you couldn't bring yourself to do it, he had been like the brother you never had and ever since you both were kids you had both been there for eachother. Even during those painful times you both had been inseparable.

"Bruno I don't want to hurt you... You've been such a good friend through all of these years... But your giving me very little choice" you said as you summoned your stand, Raspberry Beret.

"If you really don't want to hurt me then put your stand away before I have to render you incapable of using it" he said as he summoned Sticky fingers and within a second your stand disbursed.

"Good... I knew you would never really hurt me" Bruno smiled as he hugged you.

"I know your afraid right now but it's all for your benefit" he said as he kissed you.

This all felt so wrong to you,  you felt to close to him for this. You never wanted to overstep the boundaries that such a deep and long term friendship had built but here you were, with him kissing you. You felt a shiver go down your spine as you felt his tongue trace over your lips causing you to push him away.

"No Bruno! This is all too much!" You nearly screamed. It was over for this plutonic relationship... He wanted you as a romantic partner.

"But amore-"

"Please... Please just leave me be..." You began to sob as curled up into a ball. It was all just confusing... It was like he was a different person. The real Bruno would never have done this.

"(Y/n)-"

"Don't talk to me you fake! The real Bruno would never have done this!" You screamed, and with those words his heart broke apart. His breath hitched as he felt such sudden emptiness, like you had just torn his heart out of his chest and all that remained was the hole that it use to occupy. His face went pale as he walked up the stairs and disappeared.

You stood up and wiped your tears but more just flowed. You walked up the staircase and cracked open the door slightly. You had a chance of escape, or so it seemed until you opened it fully to reveal the doorway was all bricked up.

You bashed your fists against it before heading down stairs and looking at the the only downstairs door which led to a bathroom. There was no escape...

✳️✳️✳️

Bruno sat in a chair staring at the roof. It wouldn't be hard to assume that he was dead but he wasn't or at least on the outside.

[thecurseoflife]

CHAPTER 12 : Back Home

The headache was terrible. They couldn't move or talk without the pain spiking up. The slighest noise would overwhelm their eardrums, that it was the buzz of an insect or the vibration of their voices. Once she was able to grab her guitare without the pain exploding in her head, Camalia casted the melody of heal, and to her big surprise, it actually worked. She has always thought it only healed external wounds, but it looked like she had been wrong. With the headache gone, they resumed their progress towards Varian's home.

It was silent. Well, the nature was blooming all around them, taking in the sunlight with delighted whispers and the wind messing around in the leaves and the grass, but the two travelers were silent. Their feet were stomping on the grass, for sure, but no words were exchanged, no smiles, no looks, nothing. To Camalia, it was a big step back. She felt like the bonding moment they had was wiped by the alcohol, and that she had to do everything all over again.

The music mage wouldn't dare to start talking, her eyes shimmering with frustration and stress, as she was grasping strongly at her guitare strap, so tense it felt like she could break the air with one look. No, she wouldn't dare speaking up, when she didn't know if her only friend was still angry at her. She wouldn't chat when his words were still deeply carved in her mind, those harsh and hurtful words that spoke an horrible truth. She wished she couldn't hear, she couldn't think, she couldn't hope for something better. But she could.

"The only reason you're here right now is because I need you in order to free my dad. There's nothing else."

Camalia clutched her eyes shut, hoping to make the words go away. But it sounded way to much like what a certain snake could have whispered in her ear not so long ago. The only reason she was still alive back then was because they needed her in order to free themselves. There was nothing else. She felt guilty of comparing two abusing snakes with her friend, but... she couldn't help it.

She felt hopeless and empty, like all the joy of the world had been sucked in that insatiable black hole she had in her. And like everytime, she fought it. She fought the need to stop, to stop everything, to lie there in the grass and let time flow over her like a river. She fought the desire to lay there and watch days, weeks, years go by without moving, without doing anything but staring blankly in the distance. From an exterior point of view, nothing could betray the internal fight Camalia was having inside of her. After all, she became very good at hiding it, like everything else.

Suddenly, Varian stopped. He crouched down behind a bush and signed Camalia to do the same. She obeyed, without really understanding what was going on until he pointed at somewhere over the leaves. She looked, and there was the path they should have taken to get to Old Corona. It was full of guards, ambushed there and there, unoticable from the path, but easy to spot from where they were. The music mage took a quick glance at the boy, thinking he made a great move of going in the forest instead of following the path. After all, he always made great moves. Well, most of the time.

Still without a word, he crawled away from the bush and the guards. At that point, the silence was so oppressing Camalia wanted to get up and scream to him so he would finally talk to her, or just stay there forever, not moving. She wanted to do two opposites at the same time so badly it was almost tearing her apart.

But she didn't do either. As quietly as Varian, she followed him, supporting his decision, what he wanted to do, like a friend would do. Well, what she thought a good friend would do. To be honest she wasn't really grasping the concept of friendship yet. What was labelled as "good to do when you're friends" ? What was "absolute no-no" ? She was stepping in that unknown territory again, hoping that this time she wouldn't mess up. Camalia relayed on her instinct and on what she thought she should do. On what she thought friendship was.

Once he judged they were far enough, the alchemist got back up and sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

-They were probably there to ambush us. Which means that there will probably going to be guards around Old Corona, and maybe even around my house. If that's the case, we'll have to be very discreet. Although, I did hope we would be faster, heh. A bit idealistic.

Camalia silently nodded. Varian looked like he expected an answer, almost begging to have one. When he realised his friend seemed to have no intention of responding or even making eye contact with him, he pouted slightly, terribly disappointed that she still wouldn't talk to him. He understood she was mad, she could be, he had been absolutely awful with her. Not that she didn't deserve it, but... he went too far. He didn't go at lenghts like building automatons and threatning her to death, but verbally speaking, he did. He should have never said those things to her considering what she'd been through, what she is going through.

But with what happened at the Snuggly Duckling, he thought that maybe they were friends again, and that they would actually act normally around eachothers, and not coldly and strategically. And then that morning, it was awkward again, and he thought that she would talk to him, engage the conversation like she had always done, but she didn't. So he waited. He waited for hours, until it became obvious she was mad at him. Just the way she was clinging on her guitare strap, it was telling it all. After the weird alcohol moment, she must have taken time to actually think about all that he said, the way he acted, and she knew it was unfair, so unfair. That he should have never acted like this if he was her friend. If he cared. If he could actually bring the mess he was together and try to make her feel better. But he didn't, he couldn't, all he could think about was the burning treason and his dad trapped in amber, desperatly reaching out for the letter. All he could think about was the cold hard floor he slept on, the loneliness, the wasted times on useless books, the lies, all those overwhelming lies and fear. It was all he could think about.

But he should have thought about her.

He should have thought about that person that pulled him out of the darkness, with this bright smile no one could fake. He should have thought of all the moments she was real, she was true, and when put together, there were so many. So long. So shiny, warm and comfortable. The laughters and smiles radiating through them were real. Those small, enormous moments where everything was actually fine. Beside them, all the dark thoughts, the scary, the angry, the lost moments seemed like a black dot of sadness in a vast bright universe.

He should have thought about her, but he didn't. And he regretted it.

-Camalia, I-

He had never been the best at expressing his feelings. Then again, she arrived in a moment in his life when everything was upside down and splattered around. It was hard for him to build back a strong friendship after being decieved once. It was hard to talk about all those thoughts and feelings that were so overwhelming you could drown in them. Those feelings and thoughts you were never used to. It's hard to speak, to express, to forgive and to be forgiven, it's hard to be yourself when so much is pushing you to be someone you're not. It's hard, yes. It's hard and he had never been the best at expressing his feelings. But really, who is ?

-I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... said all those things I said, most of them I didn't even think. N-not the part where we were drunk, I uh... I do think those. I do think that... Well what I mean is that I shouldn't have said the things I said before that. The... all the cold and-and violent words I said. I am really, really sorry, Camalia.

The music mage was shocked. She just stared blankly at him, as if she was waiting for him to apologize and go back on what he said. But Varian didn't. He was just looking at her expectedly, even if he was getting more and more uncomfortable under her stare. She shook her head, trying to put her thoughts together.

-Wait, you're not... you're not mad at me ?

-What ? No, of course not, I-I thought you were mad at ME.

An angel passed and Varian snickered before they both laughed it off. They were so relieved that after all, they weren't alone in this. Camalia smiled at the alchemist and reached out.

-Friends ?

He grinned back, and shook her hand.

-Friends.

After this was finally cleared up -more or less-, the rest of the trip to Old Corona was strewn with jokes and questions that the other hopefully couldn't answer. Their hearts were warm and happy, still keeping a terrible part of darkness that neither of them was thinking about at the time. They were delighted and playful, but careful.

After the encounter with the ambush, they tried to keep away from the path as much as possible, and to be very quiet around it. And they were right to do so, they saw a lot of guards then and there, peacefully waiting for them to show up. It became clear that entering Varian's house would be more complicated than anticipated.

But they didn't worry too much about that. They knew they could figure it out.

It took them the whole day. When they finally got there, even with regular stops and a lunchtime thanks to Camalia theorical knowledge of the woods, they were exhausted. Their legs hurted, their back was sore and they just wanted to lie on a bed and sleep for a week. The fact that is was night wasn't helping their yawns. But it was helping their cover. Thanks to the dim light of the crescent moon, they were impossible to notice behind the bushes.

Varian crouched quickly, followed by Camalia. He signed her to be silent, and she nodded. The alchemist moved the leaves to reveal his house. Everything was exactly like he left it, and it shook him a little. He froze, feeling fear, anger and despair rise up in his throat. The faint light of the amber through one of the window wasn't really helping.

Seeing her friend tense up and his eyes widen, Camalia took the initiative.

-Uh. I thought your house would be bigger. She whispered.

The comment sucessfully snatched him from his contemplation and he looked at her in disbelief.

-What do you mean bigger ?! It's the biggest house of the entire village ! My dad is the chief of Old Corona !

-Yeah, well, I did live in a castle for most of my life. I kind of expected something... bigger.

Varian rolled his eyes and bowed slightly.

-My apologies, your highness, I thought my humble and very small home would be enough for your luxury tastes.

Camalia huffed and tapped his head, out of pure annoyance. He scoffed and without him realising it, the fear, anger and despair were being swallowed back in that dark part of his heart, even when he glanced back at his house. He went as far as having an amused smile, seeing how enormous it was, after all.

-So, began the music mage again, what do we do now ?

Varian analyzed the place, seemingly empty of any body and soul. He frowned, not buying it for one second. His gaze trailed over the edge of the forest, circling the village until the cliff took over. They should be able to get a better angle and see if there actually was no one hiding.

-We are facing the same way as the path. If someone is there, we won't be able to see them from here. I think we should go around, using the forest.

Camalia agreed silently and the alchemist carefully placed the leaves back to their original place. Once they were far enough, the friends glanced again at the village. Of course, it was filled with guards. One was hiding under the bridge, another peeping between two of the giant rocks, a big guard was using a house as a cover... They were everywhere. But lucky for them, all the guards were focused on the path. And no one bothered to look behind.

After all, maybe they were dangerous, but they were just kids.

Varian felt a wave of confidence rush over him, and he smirked. He suddenly got up and was about to leave the forest to head in his home when Camalia grabbed his sleeve and quickly sat him back down.

-H-hey ! What was that for ?!

The music mage slapped a hand on his mouth, effectively making him stop talking. She pointed at a dark spot behind his house. He examined the shadow for a couple minute, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he saw a faint movement, and the shine of an armor in the moonlight. He mentally cursed at himself. If Varian had try to just walk over to his house, the guard would have immediatly reacted and they were captured. Once again, he had been reckless. Idiot.

The girl patted his shoulder, trying to reassure him. Camalia murmured that she was about to follow him head first, and she only saw the guard out of pure luck. He had nothing to blame himself for. He had a weak smile, still feeling a bit angry at himself. She continued, whispering that she checked the other hiding spots that could have put them in danger, but the guard behind the house was really the only threat. Varian gave her a thumb up, and even if it was mean to be serious and some kind of a "good job" message, it just seemed really silly at the moment and she couldn't help but snicker, muffling the sound into her shirt.

They walked, safe in the shadows of the forest, to place themselves behind the guard. As the angle change, the hope of being able to simply walk past the guard and enter the house vanished. He was resting on the back door, the only way in without being spotted.

-Cam, do you have a melody that...that make people sleep or something ?

-Well, I have the melody that doesn't need a guitare. It's called "rock on head". I'm pretty sure it should work. Plus, he doesn't have his helmet on.

The boy's head spun to look at his friend, his face a mix of shock and "are you serious ?". Camalia just shrugged it off and bleped as an answer. Which wasn't really helpful. Varian glanced back at the guard, his helmet on the floor, and his tired face. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncertain. If they knocked him unconscious and placed him correctly, maybe everyone would think he simply fell asleep, including him. Maybe it could work after all.

His friend was patiently waiting beside him, scanning the shadows, looking for a guard that nailed hide and seek. Varian chew his bottom lip as the last doubt left his mind and he slowly exited the forest, toward the guard that was still looking over the wall to the path. The blue-strip boy was half-way there when he realised he was completely exposed. There was nowhere to hide, and if he ran out of luck and the guard turned his head, they were doomed. The thought stopped him brutaly, cold sweat running down his spine. He panicked, seeing he couldn't move, paralyzed by fear and apprehension.

He was startled by the feel of a soothing hand landing on his back. He turned his head to see that Camalia was beside him. Her presence reassured him, telling him, screaming at him in the lightless night that he wasn't alone. Camalia was entirely focused on the guard, while Varian took some deep breaths, calming down.

They started progressing again, the girl's hand not leaving his back. Both their heartrates where thumping in their ears, as loud as drums, so loud they feared it might betray them. Finally they were right there, beside the guard. The adrealine was pulsing in their veins, and yet, they took the time to detail the guard with wide eyes, unable to move or speak, strucked by the moment.

He was a giant. His shoulders could contain four times his head, and it was a miracle his tiny, yet muscular legs could held his own weight. He had a defined jaw line and blue eyes as sharp as a knife. He had the charisma and the looks, his blonde hair falling on his shoulders like a waterfall, before being reunited at the end by a red string clashing with the blue night, as if it was defying it. He had a scar running all the way from his mouth to the base of his neck, thin and yet visible.

The two friends don't know how long they stayed there, staring at the stranger, the moment frozen in time. Camalia moved first, shaking her head and breaking the spell. Varian appeared to wake up from a dream and they glanced at eachothers. They looked around and the music mage finally pointed at a rock. It was big, but light enough. Without thinking, the boy reached out for it, and quickly knocked the guard out.

His large body fell heavily on the ground, and Varian hold his breath, realising too late his mistake. The rock dropped from his hands as he was watching with horror the man descend in what will inevitably end in a large noise. It was a matter of seconds. He braced himself, ready to hear the mix of metal clashing and a big thud. He waited, clinging his teeth. And waited. A faint noise was coming from his left, and he warily opened his eyes.

The man was floating centimeter above the ground, along with the stone. They were both supported by some kind of... green fog. He turned to Camalia that was playing as quietly as possible, concentration all over her face.

She ligthly landed them, finshing the melody and tension leaving her body. She exhaled the air she accidentally contained, and slid on the ground, relief spreading it's comforting hand in her mind. Varian also took the time to relax after the intense seconds they had just lived. He was spooked by a sudden thumb up that was thrown in his face, followed by a big smile. He giggled quietly, mostly due to his nerves having been through some rough times in the last few minutes, and pushed Camalia's hand away from his face.

The girl started positionning the giant to look like he fell asleep, without her friend having to suggest it. Varian turned to the door and his throat tighten. At the very least, he would be greeted by the haunting image of his dad trapped in amber. At worst... Well, he didn't really know what would be worst, but never tempt the universe to play some tricks on you, so he assumed there could be worse. He approached his hand to the doorknob, trembling against his will. Camalia was done with the man, and she placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

-Are you ok ?

She said it so low that he barely heard it. He gulped, feeling like his arm had the weight of the world. He didn't want to see that again. He wanted to enter, and to see his dad standing there, ready to hug him so tight he couldn't breath anymore. But the glim of the amber radiating through the door was saying otherwise. For a second, he was tempted to say he was fine. To pretend he wasn't mortified, to act like he wasn't about to pass out. For a tiny moment, he was tempted to lie. But...

-No, but... I-I can't go back. Not... not now.

Camalia closed her eyes for a second. She wished she could say it was okay, but it wasn't. She wished she could say she would free him for sure, but she couldn't. She couldn't lie again.

-Well, whatever happens, I'm here.

That she could say for certain. Varian looked at her, worry painted on his face. He managed a slight smile, and after taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

He was greeted by the too familiar sight of his dad, reaching desesperatly at that note he was dying to read. Almost mechanically, Varian stepped inside, incapable of looking away from his father, like it was the first time, or maybe the last, he'd saw him. He walked over to the amber, shaken yet used to that vision.

Camalia didn't move from where she stood. She couldn't. After all of what she heard from Varian, all of what he said, she should have been prepared. But she wasn't. She didn't know that man, that adult man, but his face, convulsing in pain, that last reach to liberty and life, his pose, his look, everything, it didn't leave her unfazed. How could it ? Camalia had always been empathetic, and the fact that the sky instead of a castle was above her head didn't change anything. More than just for Varian, she wanted to help this man. She wanted to help with every bit of her soul, to free him, and see relief flood his face instead of pain. She wanted to use all the magic she'd got, all the sparkle of life she had to help, until she collapse.

Holding tight on her strap, she walked over to the amber, brushing the matter with her fingertip. It was beautiful, like a death trap. It was offering a dim light to make you fall asleep before taking your life away. It was transparent so you could see all that it took from you. It was an exquisite, raffined and gorgeous way to die. But it was all it was.

Fortunately for the two teenagers, the curtains were all closed, and as long as they didn't light something up, they should be unoticeable. Plus, because of Varian's crazy experimenting, the walls were soundproofs, making it easier for Camalia to work.

After the door was closed, the alchemist turned an hesitant face to his friend.

-So... ? Do you... Do you think maybe you could...Do something ?

-I... don't know. Admitted the mage. But I will try. I'll try my best.

She didn't promise, even if she wanted to. Camalia stood before the marvelous, shining pain, her guitare ready, and so was she. She started with the melody of heal, the counterpart to the melody of hurt, probably the one that had that best chance to work. She sang along, to make it more efficient. The green fog hit the amber and... nothing happened.

Far from giving up, she changed and played another melody. And again, the amber remained smooth and imperturbable.

Camalia played, played and played, her eyes tired of shining so much, her fingers bleeding for playing so much, her voice hoarsing from singing so much, her legs trembling from standing so long. But she didn't give up. She played, and played, the notes filling the room, her ear and heart. She wanted to spin, to give herself to the melody and feel nothing but the soft green fog as she danced like nothing mattered. But everytime she saw the face of the man and she kept her focus. She played, oh, did she play. Hours passed by, without a minute to rest. She played through her pain and her tiredness, she played, and played, because she had to help, she had to help, she had to do something, something to help, help Varian, help his dad, help her, help someone, like she wished she had been helped. She played when all she saw was a blur. Who needs to see to cast spells ? She played when her legs gave up and she dropped on the ground. Who needs to stand to play music ? She played when the green fog was so thin it was almost invisible. Who needs magic when doing magic ? She played when she couldn't hold the guitare anymore. Who needs a guitare after all ?

After hours of non-stop sounds, melodies and songs, the house fell into a weird silence. Like it wasn't supposed to be. Camalia was on the verge of consciousness, lying on the ground, facing her friend. Varian had slid on the ground a long time ago, when he understood it wasn't going to work. His face was relaxed, like everything was fine, but the two neverending streams of tears running down his cheeks told a different story. At some point, Ruddiger had woken up from some sort of nap he was having when the two friends arrived, and without neither of them noticing, Camalia too focused and Varian too shocked, he had made his way across the room and was now resting under the alchemist's hand, in an attempt to confort him. The girl was about to pass out, having used all her magic on that stupid glowing rock, but she wasn't allowed to.

She told Varian she'd be there, whatever happens.

With the last of her strenght, leaving her guitare there, she crawled over to him. He was only one or two meters away, but when she finally got there, she was breathless. She layed down against him, feeling the darkness overflow everything, only able to mumble two words before everything turned black.

-'m sorry...

Varian didn't answer, didn't say anything, even if he did heard it, as clear and loud as if she screamed it in his ear. He had been holding on the thought that he could free his dad thanks to her, but now that hope was gone, and he needed to accept the fact that his father would never be freed. But how ? How was he supposed to accept that ? So he was just staring, his mind blank, the tears being the only thing still showing that he was there, and he was hurt. He wanted to escape so bad. To escape everything, to stop hurting, to just go. He wanted to be far, far away from here, and if weren't for the two anchors by his side right now, he would have been.

But they were there. Both of them. They were there when he was at his worst. They didn't leave, they didn't abandonned him, they didn't left him behind. They were there and so was he. He kept staring, his mind still blank and his heart still aching, like nothing changed. But he moved. He lifted his hand and landed it softly on Ruddiger. With his other hand, he took Camalia's. Suddenly the mask broke and he cried, he shrieked, he mourned. He sobbed, and every tears that escaped his eyes he tighten his grip on Camalia's hand, not enough to hurt her, and he mindlessly played with Ruddiger fur. Every tear broke him a little more but his anchors were there.

No, it wasn't fine. It hasn't been fine in a long time, and he was tired to pretend otherwise. It wasn't fine, but maybe it will be, with work and acceptance, he could be fine again, he could make the world bright and colorful again. But as for now...

It wasn't fine.

First / Previous / NEXT WHAT’S THIS ?

[inanimate-insanity-headcanons]

The fanficnfdshidsh

   Nickel goes to the Perilous Forest often.

    He usually sneaks out of the hotel, but in the, extremely, off chance he slips up and someone else catches him, just bluntly announces it to that person that hes going to be in the forest. No one knows what nickel does in there. Nor why he goes.

   When people talk about nickel the topic always comes up.

   Trophy and Cherries have started to make rumors and jokes about how Nickel is secretly a nymph or a fae. Or, for shits and giggles, a fairy. Just some sort of nature spirit or creature that fakes being human and the Perilous forest is secretly his home in general.

   Some, secretly, thoroughly believe it due to evidence.

   The evidence being whenever the forest is brought up, Nickel starts acting  bit weird and talks about it like its a nostalgic place to him, like a safe haven, almost like its his home. And his seemingly abnormal knowledge about animals, as well as how to heal them, and plants, and the fact that all animals seemingly like and understand him.

   Paper, one of the people who believes it, claims that he once saw Nickel cup his hands around a wilting flower, and after he removed them, the plant was magically back to its prevoiusly healthy self.

   Even with that belief to give an idea, no one really knows. Well, Baseball probably knows, but hes still in the show, not with the rest of the eliminated contestants.

   Speaking of people in the show, Turns out they wonder what he does too. Whenever they catch him sneaking into the forest, of course.

   Some contestants sometimes talk about the topic when they spot Nickel. Baseball, as it turns out he doesnt really know, is one of them. And he wanted to figure it out.

   Following Nickel into the forest seems like the best idea. It might be a difficult task, due to how tall and rather…hefty…he is, Baseball might be too loud to be sneaky enough to follow Him un detected, but it also might be easier than what he expects, due to being in the forest before with Nickel and knowing he way around, sort of.

   After seeing Nickel start his own trek towards the forest, Baseball observed him carefully, planning on how he will make it to the forest, how he will keep track of where Nickel is, and how he wont get lost going back to where the show takes place.

   The first parts may be difficult.

   After solidifying his plan, he starts his walk to catch up to his best friend.   Untill he is interrupted by a familiar voice asking “where are you going?”.

   Baseball turns around to see Knife, and, due to himself being such a towering man, having to partially look down to properly see Knifes face.

   They havent talked to eachother in quite some time.   Knife hasn’t gotten a good look at Baseballs face in a while, but now that he is he can see how downcast he is.

   The poor guys eyes looked a bit dull, and their original bright and lively ruby color seems a bit faded in hue. He looks paler also, and just looks depressed overall. Baseball has, extremely slowly, been getting better since Testtube started comforting him, but Nickels elimination seems to have taken a permanent toll on him.

   Yet, the look in his eyes seems almost happy.

   “I was going to see what Nickel does whenever he goes into the forest” Baseball responds.

   Knifes expression seemed to change, almost soften slightly, before hardening back to his usual “tough guy” composure.

    Soon furrowing his eyebrows, more than normal, he the asks “Why?”

   “well.. I want to figure out if the rumors are actually true, i’m sure you’ve heard them” Baseball answers, Before turning about and starting to make his careful walk to catch up to Nickel unnoticed.

   Yes, the rumors.

   As it turns out, the in-game contestants also have started the same rumors as the eliminatees have. They where started by lightbulb for the same reasons, minus the acting weird. Sort of. Around them, when he was still in the show, Nickel seem to get happier around the forest. Everyone noticed it.

   Nobody had any experiences like Paper, but some contestants with a keen eye seem to have noticed that the grass under and around Nickel seems greener and the flowers seem brighter.

   Knife only let out a small “oh, huh” before he silently watched Baseball turn and continue following his own best friend. He was tempted to stop the latter, but even he is curious to see what Nickel does in there.

   Baseball has only entered the forest with him a couple of times, and they only go to set locations, and nothing was out of the ordinary with Nickel other than some sweet times like when small, cute insects, like butterflies, landed on Nickels hand once he held it out.

   While walking, Baseball pulls out a small box from his jackets pocket, opening it to see the small collection he has aquired over time.

   Different types of flowers that seem to never wilt, colorful rocks, and shiny objects make up most of its contents. Just a small bunch of little trinkets he was given by Nickel that where either found in the forest or were already owned.   Nickel had always liked to collect things like those, all because they peaked his interest, or, as Baseball soon found out as he got to know him, Nickel thought they would make Baseball happy.

   And they did.

   Anyway, Baseball soon snapped back to reality and made his way to the edge of the forest, somehow before he lost sight of Nickel. This is when He had to be careful, as if he was to make any noise, Nickel would be alerted.

   Stopping only when Nickel stopped to pick up randoms items he finds or when an animal interacts with him.

   Making haste, he followed Nickel. Until Nickel took a turn and dissapeared once Baseball turned that same corner.

   “Damnit” he muttered. He lost him. He turned and pondered if he should give up and exit the forest.

   Baseball decided against it and turned back around, restarting he quick pace as he navigated through the forest. Stopping himself from calling Nickels name, as that would do the opposite of what he wants.

   Baseball know this was probably hopeless, he is never in the forest and Nickel probably knows it like its as simple as remembering his own name. And the forest is huge, there is basiclly no way that this will turn out good for him.   Baseball just decides to travel to the places hes most familiar with in the forest.   Then Baseball found him.

   He found Nickel sitting on a rock with his back to Baseball, seeming absorbed into whatever hes was doing.

   But…   Nickel looks, quite, different.

   His shiny, shoulder length, grey hair has flowers sporatically tangled inside of it. one side is tucked behind his ears, which is now pointed, like an elf. he was wearing a short sleeved shirt with holes in the back for a set of pretty fairy wings that looked to be a combination of butterfly and dragonfly wings, only a couple of inches longer than his torso, almost limply resting parallel to his back. He has his usual oversized jacket wrapped around his waist.

   He was also wearing shorts. His exposed arms and legs had leafy, flowery vines growing and wrapping around the limbs. the plants getting denser the closer to Nickels hands and feet, almost seeming to be attached to his body. They stopped at his mid thigh and bicep.

   There are many animals around him too.

   A couple of butterflies circle nickel, fluttering around him and some even crawing on him. Birds flutter arould him, some even givig him things like flowers. There was also a fox there, yapping to Nickel in response to whatever he said. Sometimes talking to the birds and butterflies also, the birds tweeting back a response.

   He looked gorgeous.

   He unknowingly took a few steps closer, wanted to get a better look at Nickel, and talk to him.

   Baseball accidentally lets out a quiet, yet awestruck “whoa”, as he stared at Nickel, admiring him.

   Nickel immediately stops what hes doing and spins around, standing in the process, and stares up at Baseball, who seemed anxious that he has been spotted.

   Nickel is wearing his cute, round, black, thin rimmed glasses that complimented his features nicely. His light green eyes seemingly unnaturally bright, Though, they seemed to show only fear.

   “ah…uh-” Nickel starts, showing his sharp teeth as he talked, taking a small step backwards. “hi..”.

   Baseball perked up as soon as Nickel spoke. “..hello” He smiles, stepping forward a couple of steps before stopping when Nickel backed up more. He looks more anxious. Baseballs smile drops.

  The fox is getting defensive. Yet, as soon as Nickel raised a hand towards it, it seems to calm down slightly.

   “dont run, please” Baseball softly begs, raising his arms so they are partally bend infront of his chest, before takeing a couple of gentle steps forward.   Nickel stays in place for the few steps, still having that fearful look in his eye.   Baseball smiles again and hurriedly walks towards Nickel, falling to his knees and engulfing him in a tight hug. He stays careful as to not hurt Nickel and avoid wrapping his arms around his wings as to not crush them.

   “i missed you so much!” Baseball gushes, pulling Nickel into his lap subconsciously.

   Nickel is stunned slightly, he didnt expect Baseball to react this way. Most people called him a monster. After realizing what is happening, he wrapped his arms as tightly around Baseball as he could. His wings fluttered slightly.

   “I missed you too” Nickel said happily, his wings fluttering more.   Soon enough, the pulled away from eachother, Nickel sliding off of Baseballs lap.   “how did you find me?” Nickel questioned, looking up to Baseball.

   “ah-” Baseball scratches the back of his neck, “i…followed you into the forest, lost you, then found you here” He looks at Nickel nervously.

   Nickel stares at baseball for a second before stating snarkily “you really wanted to see me, huh”.   Baseball only responds with a soft “yea”.   Baseball then blurts “can you fly?” partially startling Nickel. He looks at Nickel, who has scooted backwards at the sudden question, his glasses tilted slightly, he stares at Nickel for a answer while feeling guilty for scaring him again.   “Yea, i can fly-” Nickel grins, correcting his glasses “want me to show you?” Nickel scoots back to where he was sitting before. Baseball nods quickly.

   Standing up, Nickel backs away from the other before fluttering his wings. Hopping into the air softly, his wings emit a soft, fast flapping noise as he hovers in the air, holding him up with ease.

   “whoa..” Baseball said, thoroughly amazed, before standing up and asking “can you fly to my height?”.

   Nickel wings flutter faster as he glides up so hes face to face with Baseball. The latter smiles and places a hand on Nickels cheek before taking it off as the smaller floated downwards until his feet touched the ground.

   They both sit back down chatting casually.

   “Hey-” Baseball starts, unsure if he sould ask, “what exactly Are you?” he questions, looking down at Nickel. Nickel looks up to him a bit confused.   “I mean– I know your some sort of forest creature, and maybe a fairy, because of the wings, but you have vines growing on you and-” Baseball stutters trying to explain the question.

  “Im a draey” Nickel interrupts, chuckling softly due to how nervous baseball got.   Baseball stares at Nickel, confused. Hes heard of many mystical creatures, but he has never heard of a ‘draey’ before.

   “a..  a what?” Baseball stammers. Nickel lets out an understanding sigh, draeys are very rare, as most of the time fairy and dyrad kids are either fairys or dryads like their parents.

   “a draey, its a cross between a fairy and a dryad, they are really uncommon” Nickel explains.

   Baseball hums an “oh” before looking up at the sky, then at his watch. “we should probably leave. We’ve been here for a while” He cautions, standing up  and waiting for Nickel to get up also.

   Nickel looks at the sky as well and stands. The two start walking towards the edge of the forest together. As they walk, though, the flowers in Nickels hair start to wilt and fall off, ans the vines on his arms and legs regress, like someones reversing a video of the vines plant growing.

   “hey, how are you going to…oh” Baseball starts, once he looks at Nickel, he sees that the latter looks completely normal, and his hair is covering both his ears now and be put his jacket on.

   “I can get rid of the nymph parts of my body, but i have to cover up my ears and wings though” Nickel states, his sharp teeth showing sometimes, while pulling back his hair to reveal he still has his pointed ears, then lets it fall down like before. He then loosens his jacket so it reveals his wings, which where, now, not even half way down his back.

   While Nickel fixes his jacket, Baseball muses “i dont think we should be seen walking together. we might get in trouble”. They can see the edge of the forest now. all of the other contestants are just shapeless lobs of color laying on the ground.

   “eh, i dont think anyone will see us. everyone is probably asleep” Nickel shrugs. Baseball hums in response. They stop at the edge where the forest stops and where inanimate insanity is starts.

   Nickel turns to baseball “You think we can get away with talking to eachother again?”. Baseball looks down to Nickel and smiles.

   “Im sure we can, at night time, though-” Baseball smirks, but it soon turns to a frown"-I guess we have to part ways".

   Nickel only mumbles “i guess” and gives a soft goodbye, walking back to the hotel. Baseball stares at him leaving before sighing and going back to the other contestants.

   Now Baseball knows if the “rumors” are true, but, he will most likely be the only other one to know.

[lovemesomerafael]

Destroying the Planet to Save It    Chapter 3:  One for All, and All that Shit

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Read it on AO3

Bruce Banner had gathered as much data as possible about the latest event, and had done as much with it as he could with the equipment he’d brought to Washington D.C.  He needed to get back to his lab in New York and get to work.  He tried to sleep, but found himself staring at the sunrise from the window of another Stark jet, rolling ideas through his head and trying to plan his next steps. Trying not to think about Catherine Mulready.  

He hadn’t wanted to call her.  Hadn’t wanted to barge back into her life when he’d promised her he wouldn’t.  But he’d had no choice.  She was one of maybe four people on the planet with the knowledge and ability to help him, and the other three were scattered across the globe. Of course, he wasn’t in love with the other three, which was a significant complicating factor.  

She’d taken his call. Just picked up the phone with a casual, “Hello, Bruce,” like the last time they’d seen each other they hadn’t both been crying.  And when he’d asked her how she was, she’d actually answered, rather than simply shutting him down with the “fine,” he deserved.  Like she was happy and it was no big thing that he’d called.  Which is what he wanted; he’d told her to get over him and be happy, it was just…  He didn’t know that her actually doing that would hurt quite this much.  It was one thing to miss her, like he did every damn day. It was another to know that she didn’t miss him.  That she’d moved on.  Just like he’d told her to.

 Clint Barton wasn’t sleeping, either.  He was looking down at Natasha, the only person on the plane who was sleeping. Her head rested in his lap, her beautiful, shiny red hair spilling down his thigh to pool on the cushion next to him. As soon as they’d boarded the jet, they’d just gravitated together, settling on the sofa near the center, as if they’d had reserved seats.  It had always been like that for them, from the very beginning.  As he stroked her smooth, sleek hair, Clint thought about the day they met, and the almost instant sensation he’d had that they’d always known each other.  And now, they really had known each other for a lifetime.  He could no longer remember, couldn’t even imagine anymore, what it would be like without Natasha Romanoff in his life.  

And in his heart.  

It had been many years since they’d met, since that day when he’d first seen her and knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been wrong.  Yes, Natasha was lethal and yes, she was working for the enemy.  But she was nothing like they’d believed.  Clint had seen immediately who she was.  What she was.  And instead of killing her, as he’d been sent to do, he’d brought S.H.I.E.L.D. one of the very best agents it ever had.  

It hadn’t been a choice. He’d tried to explain it a thousand times, and each time he’d failed to find the words that would explain how he’d simply known that’s where she belonged.  This woman, this beautiful, tortured, devastatingly lonely woman, was a hero.   And he’d seen it as soon as he’d looked into her eyes.  

He huffed a quiet laugh at that.  Part of the reason it was hard to explain how he’d known in that moment that Natasha Romanoff was a good woman was that she’d been covered in someone else’s blood at the time.  And then she’d cursed him and fought him and led him on a four-day chase through three countries.  It had taken most of that time for him to realize that, all the while, she was doing just enough to escape but never really hurting him.  

And then he’d caught her. Or maybe she caught him.  He’d followed her to Tallinn and thought he’d lost her, entirely convinced she’d found a way to cross the Gulf into Finland. He’d been devastated.  Clint didn’t give a rat’s ass about explaining to his superiors at S.H.I.E.L.D. that she’d escaped.  They knew how good she was, and they’d expected that.  What he cared about was her.  So he’d holed up in a ratty old dockside inn for the night, nursing his wounds and a bottle of black-market vodka.  He’d been standing, wearing nothing but jeans and looking out the dirty window at the poor fucks trudging around in the thick slush on the street, when she’d just… been there.  

He’d heard a scrape behind him and turned to see Natasha, no longer bloody, but showing definite signs of having been on the run, sitting at the tiny table in his room and drinking straight from his bottle of vodka.  She’d given him a smug little salute with the bottle, stood up, and offered it to him. He took it from her, swigged a mouthful, and then moved to stand face to face with her, leaning his arm behind her to set the bottle back on the table.  Neither of them was surprised that she didn’t move away, but slid one hand around his neck and the other down his bare chest to the button of his jeans.

They’d stayed there, in that damp, dingy little inn, for three days, sleeping for a couple hours at a time between rounds of hard, messy, athletic sex.  They barely spoke.  They asked each other no questions and shared no information beyond moans and cries and instructions.  And when it was over, Clint had simply stated that he was taking Natasha to the U.S. with him, and she had not objected.

*****

Stark Tower was not your usual skyscraper, in pretty much any way.  Tony had no trouble at all housing a planeload of surprise guests, one of whom was the President of the United States.  A lot of things bugged Tony, but housing important people wasn’t one of them.  That was what Friday and his staff were for.  Besides, he had other things on his mind.  He was anxious for Bruce to arrive so they could start comparing notes and, until then, he just planned to lock himself in his lab and work with the data he had so far.  The rest of the team could take care of the guests.  Even the damn President.  Well, Presidents.

Tony almost made it.  He was that close to getting into his lab and away from everyone, especially the newly-bearded, tank-like asshole who was even now getting off the other elevator.  Fuck.  It was still dark, way too early in the damn morning for this.  

“I thought we should talk,” Steve said, wearing his patented Wholesome and Earnest© expression.

“No, we really shouldn’t.”

“Tony-“

“You should get back in the elevator - I designed them so they go both up and down, I’m clever like that – and you and your pet assassin should deal with our guests. Isn’t that what you do?  Aren’t you, like, the Jawline of Democracy, or the Shoulders of Freedom or something?  Babysitting the President seems right up your alley.  I have work to do.”

“Damn you, Tony, we have a deal.  I expect you to hold up your end.”

“Yeah, you know what, Not Chuck Norris?  I am holding up my end.  You might have noticed me last night, right next to you the whole damn time, getting the President out of there, hauling him here on my plane, to my secure building.  That was me, holding up my end.  I’m all about keeping the Avengers together.  One for all, and all that shit.  But here’s the thing.  A little of you?  That goes a long, long fucking way, and I’ve had about as much Captain America as I can stomach right now.  Someone tries to take over the world?  Call me. I’m in.  But until that happens, I seriously need you to fuck off.”

Tony turned on his heel and slammed his palm down on the sensor that would open the doors for only him.

“So that’s it?  This is as good as it’s gonna get?  We just coexist and you avoid me and –“

Tony wheeled around and stormed up to Steve until they were chest to chest, with Tony’s livid expression mere inches from Steve’s stubbornly set jaw.  “Yeah.  Yeah, it is. Because we were a team, and we were something, y’know?  We did some amazing shit together.  I thought that meant something, that we’d built something.  And then you turned around and took a blowtorch to the whole damn thing like it had all been some cute little hobby for you and you were on to the next thing.”

“I had no choice,” Steve hissed.  “It was Bucky.”

“Yeah, no, I get that. I read the files, I know what they did to him.  I had a lot of time to think while you were in Wakanda, and me and him?  We’re good.  But me and you?  No.  And I don’t see that changing.”

“How do you expect us to be a team if we don’t work together?  Train together?  Trust eachother?”

“Yeah.  I know.  That’s what you cost us.”  Tony turned around and went into his lab.  “See you around, Cap,” he sneered as he punched the button to shut the sliding door between them.  

*****

Craig Thomas had volunteered to take the first shift in the President’s suite, along with another two Secret Service officers.  Joss Emerson had agreed to relieve Agent Thomas at seven, and she was just fumbling her way to consciousness and beginning to form the hazy thought of caffeine when she heard a quick, solid knock on the door of the room she’d been assigned.  Frowning, she rolled off the edge of the shockingly comfortable bed and to her feet.

She’d groaned as she crossed the room, but it was nothing to the groan she let out when she looked through the peephole into the hallway.  Glancing down with a whimper at the nightgown she wore, she opened the door a crack and poked her head around it.  

Bucky stood there, slight confusion clouding his blue eyes, despite the amused quirk of an eyebrow. “Are you…  Everything OK?”

“I’m good. Thanks.  I just, um…  I just woke up.”

“I see that,” he grinned, indicating her sleep-scrambled hair.  “I brought you coffee.”  He held up a very large paper cup with a lid, from which came a scent almost as seductive as he was.  

Joss reached out a hand, but didn’t open the door any wider.  “Oh, man.  You are officially my new best friend.”

As he handed the cup to her, Bucky stepped closer and tried to look past her into the room.  His expression was a little more serious now. “You sure you’re OK?  I wanted to talk to you about something.  If you’re…  You don’t have company in there, do you?”

“No!  For Pete’s sake, we’ve been here, what?  Six hours?  And you think I…”

“Well, President Lattimore does seem to really like you.”

“That’s not even remotely funny.”

“It will be, once you get a little caffeine in you.  C’mon, let me in.  I wanna get your take on something.”

“Give me a chance to put some clothes on, will ya’?  I thought you were from the ‘40’s, aren’t you supposed to be embarrassed that I’m not dressed?”

Bucky grinned, enjoying Joss’s discomfort.  “I’m a quick study.  Anyway, you have clothes on, I can see your sleeve.  What’s the problem?”

“It’s…  I just…”  She looked down at herself again.  “I can’t. Come back later.”

“Joss.  What’s going on?”  Suddenly, he was serious.  He put his right hand on the door, ready to push it open unless she gave him a very good reason not to.

“Damn it,” she sighed, stepping back and opening the door so he could enter.  

Bucky stepped in, looked her from head to toe, and instantly had to fight not to laugh, although he didn’t fight very fucking hard, if you asked Joss.  

The nightgown she wore was basically a black, long-sleeved, V-necked T-shirt that came to mid-thigh, which wouldn’t have been a problem except for the left arm.  The gray left arm with black stripes of various thicknesses at random intervals and a large red star on the shoulder.  

“I hate Tony Stark,” she spat, hunching her shoulders and looking everywhere but at Bucky.

“I don’t.  I get royalties from those.  And they’re selling like crazy.”  Bucky’s eyes danced as he affected a way-too-innocent expression.

“You laugh, and your reign as my new best friend will come to a bloody end.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, why are you wearing it?”

“Stark got some store to deliver clothes for us to wear today, but he said this was all he could do as far as sleepwear.  If the damned President isn’t wearing one of these, I am going to have some very unpleasant things to say about this place on Yelp.”

He chuckled.  “Well, it looks good on you, if that makes you feel any better.  May I?” He indicated the sofa that sat across the room, under a wall of windows with an extraordinary view of Manhattan. It really was a stupendously luxurious room, especially when Bucky Barnes was standing in it.  Joss looked down at her coffee.  It was tempting as hell, but if he was standing there, that meant she was still dreaming, and this was one REM cycle she really did not want to interrupt.

*****

On five hours’ sleep, Anita Herrera looked as if she’d stepped out of the pages of one of those glossy magazines they put a blocker in front of at the grocery store so little kids won’t see cleavage.  Sam Wilson, not so much.  He was standing in the large communal kitchen that served this floor of luxury hotel-like rooms and suites, finishing his second cup of coffee and beginning to wonder if cup number one was ever going to kick in.  The grainy dryness of his red, swollen eyes could not be attractive, and he almost wished Agent Herrera wasn’t here right now to see it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw her pick the carafe out of the huge, stainless steel, state-of-the-art  coffee maker that looked like it belonged in the cockpit of a Space Shuttle.  She carried it, practically gliding across the floor, until she was standing next to where he leaned against the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.  She lifted it in question and, when he held out his cup, refilled it, smiling. Suddenly, Sam was wide awake.  

“Short night,” she commented.

“Yeah.  I guess Banner and the others have landed now.  They should be here soon, and maybe we’ll get some answers.”

“About that.  I’ve been thinking.  We need to get back into Arias’s… bunker?  Lair?  Hideout? Whatever he calls it.”

“What do you have in mind, Agent Herrera?”  Sam lifted an interested eyebrow.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not calling you ‘Mr. Wilson.’  So my name is Anita.”  The cheeky smile and flip of her hair just about dropped Sam where he stood.  “And for another, I’m thinking you and I should go on a date.”

Sam’s mind skipped like a dirty CD.  “Uh…”

“How are you at breaking and entering?” Anita asked as she crossed the floor again to replace the coffee carafe.  

“Breaking and entering. You’re not seriously thinking we can sneak into that… underground fortress?”

“We need to get in there. You got a better idea?”

“That’s asking a lot on three hours of sleep.  But let me think about it.”

“You do that,” she said over her shoulder, opening the huge refrigerator and beginning to take stock of the very full shelves.  “In the meantime, Stark said to make ourselves at home, so I’m going to make breakfast.  You’re going to help.”

“What makes you think so?”

“I was a Navy Warrant Officer.  I outrank you.”

“Shit.”

*****

Breakfast was a noisy, chaotic affair made bearable by the fragile, temporary camaraderie among those who had been unexpectedly and unwillingly been brought together in New York. Sam and Anita had been busy, and everyone had been lured into the common room by the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.  Even both Presidents were there, although President Burke spent much of the time on the secure phone Tony had put at his disposal.  

Tony Stark was nowhere to be found, since Bruce Banner had now arrived and the two were holed up in Bruce’s lab on one of the top floors.  Which left Steve playing host, which wasn’t his strong suit.  As it turned out, however, it was Sharon’s, and she came to his rescue quickly, smoothly, and without question. So smoothly, in fact, that no one noticed.  No one except Steve.

There were heaping serving bowls of scrambled eggs with peppers and onions, spiced with a Cuban flair, that everyone devoured, along with seemingly endless platters of bacon, toast, and fruit.  Anita had found a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne, with which even the President spiked his orange juice.  Sitting around the huge table, groups of strangers became almost friendly, with Sharon gently guiding conversations and smoothing over occasional quiet spells and rough spots.

Air Force One was on its way, now that the weather was clear in D.C. and no further energy spikes had been detected there.  Since they hadn’t recurred in any of the places they’d appeared so far, there was no reason to suppose Washington would be any different.  President Burke was expected to be back in the White House by afternoon.

President Lattimore, however, lived in Mobile, and wasn’t happy that he wouldn’t be on that flight. Instead, Bucky had arranged to fly him back home in a Quinjet, with his Secret Service detail and Joss Emerson. That’s what he’d wanted to talk over with her earlier, and she was still having occasional retroactive blushes about being caught out wearing an officially licensed Avengerswear™ Winter Soldier nightgown.  

Everett Burke was known to be a big eater, and to have a sincere appreciation for good food. Fortunately for him, he liked to exercise as much as he liked to eat, and had a reputation among the Secret Service for being extremely competitive when they had to accompany him on his runs. He managed to retain much of his SEAL-era conditioning despite now having a desk job that required him to attend banquets and dinners almost nightly.  He managed to put down the phone for long enough to tuck into an enormous plate of breakfast, engaging a hollow-eyed Clint and entirely refreshed Natasha in a series of questions about last night’s phenomenon.

“Dr. Banner is convinced that the energy he’s detecting is responsible for the destructive events that follow, and he’s hopeful that he’ll be able to learn about the connection from the storm in Washington last night.  He was able to gather an overwhelming amount of data on it, more than we have on any of the other events.  He has a world-renowned meteorological scientist coming in today to consult, and we should have some answers soon,” Natasha said, her face a bland mask of competent calm that only Clint could see through.  He could tell that she was, in fact, highly amused to find herself across the breakfast table from the leader of the free world, given her former occupation.  

For his part, Clint was just sleep-deprived enough to find the whole situation hilarious.  The Secret Service agents around the table and surrounding the President seemed much more concerned about an as-yet theoretical threat than the fact that their principal was, at this moment, having mimosas with the Winter Soldier and the Black Widow.  He was sorely tempted to ask Bucky and Natasha to list the number of ways they could kill him – hell, everybody in the room – using just what was currently within arms’ reach.  Yeah, he should probably excuse himself and take a nap before he found himself answering uncomfortable questions in a soundproofed room somewhere beneath the Pentagon.  

Sharon stepped in.  “Director Coulson and Captain Rogers have asked me to be your liaison to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, Sir.  It’ll be my job to make sure that you know everything we know.”

“I appreciate that, Agent Carter,” the President replied, almost retaining his placid mask of imperturbable authority without letting the twinge of disappointment show.  “I’m used to working with Captain Rogers, but you’re much prettier.”

Half the room grinned, while the other half consciously restrained themselves from facepalming. How many times in his political career had Everett Burke gotten himself in trouble over inappropriate remarks like that?  Sharon’s face showed nothing of her annoyance, or her gratitude that there were no reporters in the room.  

“Sir, you don’t want me,” Steve said with a self-deprecating smile that belied his irritation on Sharon’s behalf.  “You need something punched, I’m your guy.  Science and tech, that’s Sharon.”

She gave him the slightest nod of approval, while promising herself that, if she ever got the chance, she would thank him in a much more personal way for that.  

*****

The lobby of Stark Tower was much like Tony Stark himself: blatantly luxurious, faintly ridiculous, easy but dangerous to underestimate.  Bruce knew there were a plethora of defensive systems that would make even approaching this level of the tower a suicide mission at a word from Tony.  He looked around, trying to spot all the cameras, lasers, remotely-operated panels, and other fixtures that weren’t what they appeared to be.  Tony liked to say that the strange sculpture in the middle of the fountain was actually a robot drone that could be controlled from several places only Tony and Friday knew, but he was never sure whether to believe that.

Bruce was exhausted, frightened, annoyed, frustrated, and anxious as he paced the area in front of the massive, ultra-modern reception desk, chewing on a thumbnail and, had he known it, muttering to himself.  He paid no attention to the many people who steered extra-wide of him.  In fact, he paid no attention to any of the passersby and tourists who thronged the lobby, having no idea that the strange, rumpled man scowling at the floor was, in fact, one of the Avengers they were there hoping to glimpse.

Preoccupied as he was, he knew the moment she appeared outside the tall, glass doors, squinting up at the landing platform jutting out into the morning sunshine and squaring her shoulders before she nodded to a young man in a suit who held the door open for her, and stepped inside.  He stood, not breathing, just letting her happen to him all over again.  Her jet-black hair was short now, rather than the long, straight fall it had been when he’d last seen her in London. Although he knew intellectually that it was an intentional style, his body thought the shaggy, spiky layers made her look like she’d just gotten out of bed, which he really didn’t need right this minute.  Her suit was stylish and professional, but it fit her like a glove, reminding him of her body, which he really fucking didn’t need right then.  

She saw him almost as soon as she entered the lobby.  Did her steps falter a little?  He thought so, but then, he wanted to think so.  What he knew for sure was that she was smiling warmly when she came to stand in front of him.  She took off her Ray-Bans and he was immediately struck anew by those piercing green eyes.  

“Hello, Bruce,” she said. Was it a little hesitant?  A little tight?

“Catherine.  Thank you so much for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said in the Estuary accent he still heard in his most private fantasies. “I’m dying to get a look at what you’ve got.”

“I can’t wait to show you,” he grinned shyly.  “Let’s go.”

Bruce waved her toward a bank of elevators down a hallway that was guarded on both sides by imposing men whose firearms were intentionally not well-concealed under the jackets of their dark suits.  They nodded to him as he passed, having been briefed that he would be bringing a guest up to the Research floors.  They weren’t worried that she might be armed or carrying anything they might not want on the upper floors of the tower.  The elevator would silently scan her and invisibly detect any of several hundred dangerous organic and explosive materials.  There was even radiation detection.  If any of those scans showed a problem, the elevator would descend to the lobby and lock down until the doors opened on a fully suited Ironman.  Tony took no chances with security.

They were alone on the elevator.  It seemed quiet after the bustle of the lobby, especially because the thick, soft wool carpet and brocade wall panels absorbed sound, and the mechanism itself was all but silent.  

Bruce was staring.  He knew he was.  But he couldn’t help it any more than he could help the awed tone of voice in which he nearly whispered, “You look good, Catherine.  I like your hair like that.”

She smiled self-consciously and seemed to be forcing herself to meet his eyes.  “You look good, too,” she said softly.  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.  You’ve been through a lot these last years.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled mirthlessly.  “You could say that.  It’s not every day you get to battle an alien invasion.”  

“Speaking of that,” she said, now clearly avoiding his eyes.  “I, uh…  I know that you were responsible for destroying the ones that attacked my building. I don’t know if that was for me, but… I appreciated it. You may be a superhero, but I am decidedly not.  I was scared shitless.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bruce grinned, and she met his eyes again.  “Don’t tell anyone.”

For a second, they just stood, grinning softly at one another.  

“Are you really OK?” She finally asked, no pretense now. “I can’t stop caring just because you tell me to.”

“I’m as OK as I always am,” he muttered.  

“That’s a shitty answer.”

“Yeah, well…”  

She sighed.  

“Have you ever met Tony Stark?”  Bruce asked, fooling neither of them with his change of subject.

“Never.  I’m afraid I’m going to be a little starstruck.”

“If you tell him I said this, I’ll deny it, but I’m a little starstruck myself.  His mind is…  not like other people’s.”

“So I understand. Anything I should beware of?”

Bruce barked a genuine laugh with a smile that, although he couldn’t know it, rocked Catherine back on her heels.  “Pretty much anything having to do with him.  We’re just lucky this particular crisis will have us working with a lot more theory than mechanical engineering.  That’s the part where there’s usually explosions and inadvertent time travel, things like that.”

“What’ve I bloody gotten myself into?”  She mumbled, loud enough that he knew it was intended to be a joke.

When the doors opened, they found themselves in a room that comprised most of this floor of the building, so spartan white that the morning sunlight streaming in made it seem uncomfortably bright.   The scattered work stations throughout were almost bare except for sparse bits of… some kind of electronic hardware whose purpose wasn’t immediately apparent to anyone who hadn’t seen it in action.  Walking toward them through the sun-drenched room was Tony Stark, barefoot and wearing jeans that looked ancient, with a black T-shirt featuring a white decal of an old-school floppy disc.  

“Dr. Mulready!  You have to be Dr. Mulready,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh!  You’re English!  Cool.  Bruce didn’t tell me that, just that you used to bone and then he dumped you. Something about being an enormous green douchebag.  So. Let’s get started, we got a lot to show you.”  

Entirely oblivious of the effect of his words, Tony turned around to the closest white-topped table, a long, curved expanse with only a few of those electronic-looking odds and ends scattered atop it.  Until he flung his arms wide and, so unexpectedly that Catherine jumped and let out an embarrassing yelp, a glowing screen appeared in mid-air.  

“Banner’s gonna bore you with a bunch of squiggles on a graph, but I know you’re a tornado expert, so I’m going to show you the really cool stuff.  Starting with this.”  He did something with a flick of his wrist and the screen was filled with video of the previous day’s tornado over Washington D.C.

They watched in silence for several minutes, Catherine’s entire attention laser-focused as the storm raged and the funnel wreaked devastation on the ground.  “Anti-cyclonic rotation,” she murmured.  “That’s interesting.”

“Why?”  Bruce asked, watching her as she watched the screen, crinkling her nose and tilting her head to the left in a way that instantly flooded Bruce with nostalgia.

“The Coriolis effect. Less than five percent of tornadoes rotate clockwise in this hemisphere. Doesn’t mean anything on its own, it’s just rare.”

They watched for a few more minutes before Catherine stiffened and said, “Wait.  What was that?”

“What was what?”  Tony asked.

“Go back.  Play the last ten seconds again.”

He did and they watched as a jagged lightning bolt shot across the sky.  It was cool, but Tony wasn’t sure that it was particularly interesting. He looked curiously at Catherine.

“Can you slow it down?”

“I can do anything. How slow do you want it?”

“Frame by frame, if you can. Starting just before the lightning strike.”

He did, advancing the video and watching her as he did.  

“There!”  She cried, pointing to the screen.  “That.”

Tony and Bruce looked at each other.  “OK, I’ll play,” Tony said.  “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

Catherine stepped up to the screen and pointed to the leading edge of the lightning bolt where it appeared to actually strike the side of the tornado.  “See that?  How the lightning looks like it’s poking a hole in the funnel?”

“Yeah…”  Bruce answered tentatively.

“Now.  Next frame.”

In the next frame, there appeared to be an actual divot forming in the wall of the funnel.  

“Next,” Catherine said, scowling.

In the next frame, the divot had grown and was clearly a bend in the wall of the tornado, making the funnel look like it was moving away from the lightning.

“Next.”

The effect became more pronounced in the next frame, and the next.  The lightning strike lasted only a few frames beyond that, but it was clear, now that they had slowed it down, that the lightning had actually “dented” the funnel of the tornado, and caused it to bend away from the strike.

“OK.  We see it now.  So what?” Tony asked impatiently.

“So that can’t happen. Lightning isn’t powerful enough to affect a tornado, and the power surge doesn’t last long enough, even if it was. Whatever we’re looking at, it’s either not a tornado, or it’s not lightning.  Or both.”  

*****

When breakfast was over, Steve and Sharon were left alone in the ravaged common room amid the greasy, jumbled remains.  

“Do you suppose we’re supposed to clean this up?”  She asked, looking daunted at the possibility.

“Of course not. Tony’s got people for that,” Steve answered, with a look that told Sharon he disapproved of something about what he’d just said.

“What?”

Steve looked over at her, trying to cover his look with a smile.  “Nothing.  We don’t have to clean this up.”

“Did something happen between you and Tony?”

Steve blew out a breath in disgust.  “Tony happened.  I thought we were gonna try to get past this.  I believed him that we’d put aside our anger and were going to try to figure things out for the good of the team.”

“But that isn’t true?”

“Doesn’t look like it. He told me to stay away from him unless someone’s trying to take over the world.  In so many words.”

Sharon put a hand on his arm.  “I’m sorry. I know you really want things back the way they used to be.”

“It’s not about what I want.  It’s about what the world needs.  If the Avengers hadn’t been here, who would have stopped the Chitauri?  The military?  They were about to nuke the city!  If it wasn’t for us, working together, New York would be gone now and maybe the Chitauri would be in control of Earth anyway.”

Steve stood up and began pacing the room, pent-up frustration and energy with no outlet urging him to action.  

“I’ve gotta find a way to get through to him.  We have to work together.  We don’t have a choice.”

“Steve,” Sharon began tentatively.

“What?”  He stopped pacing to look at her.

“What have you and Tony… said to eachother about what happened?  About the Accords, and about The Raft, and Berlin?”

“Plenty.  There’s a bloody bunker in Siberia that will show you, we had quite the conversation about that.”

Sharon stood then, walking over to where Steve stood in front of the wall of windows.  She reached out hesitantly, laying her hands lightly on his chest, and was pleased to see him take a step toward her and rest a warm, heavy hand on each side of her waist.  “That’s what I was afraid of.  You haven’t talked about it at all.”

“We did, Sharon.  I called him, and we met in Washington. You know that, you were there.  We agreed that the Avengers is too important to end.”

“And that’s the only time you’ve sat down and talked about this?”

“Well…  yeah.  What else is there to say?”

Sharon basically banged her head against Steve’s chest in disgust.  “Men.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that, for a really smart guy, you’re a damn fool.  That’s what it means.  You need to talk to him, Steve.  You need to talk, and you need to keep talking until you each understand what made the other take the position they did.  And you need to apologize to each other.”

“Apologize?  What the fuck for?  He’s got us answering to a committee, for fuck’s sake!”

“Yes, and he believes that’s the right thing.  He believes that.  Do you really think Tony Stark, of all people, would willingly submit to anyone’s authority if he didn’t truly believe it was necessary?  And do you know why he thought it was necessary? Did you even ask?”

“I know why.  Of course I asked, we argued about it for hours…”

“You argued.  You both talked at each other – shouted, actually – and neither one heard a word the other said.”

“Whose side are you on, Sharon?”  Steve yelled, letting go of her.

“Yours,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as she could.  “Always yours.  You have to know that.”

He frowned and turned toward the window, his face working as he thought through what she’d said.

“Steve.”  

After a moment, he turned back to her.  She stepped to him again, this time wrapping her arms around his waist.  His arms naturally encircled her, and she found herself pressed against his chest, looking up into his bright blue eyes. “Do you remember when we first met? How we first met?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was on your side, there for you, even before you knew who I was.  I stood with you when Hydra infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.  I stood with you when you refused to sign the Accords, and when you went to Bucharest to try to keep Bucky from being captured.  I kept you both from facing criminal charges, and I’ve worked like hell to help him get through all the other fallout of what Hydra made him do.  Right?”

“Right,” Steve admitted softly, holding her a little closer.

“And then, when you were ready to try to approach Tony again, who made that happen?”

“You did.”

“Yeah.  I did.  So please tell me that you know I’m as loyal to you as anyone could be.  You do know that, right?”

He looked into her eyes for a long, long moment.  “I do know that, Sharon.  I do. And I’ve been selfish as hell when it comes to you.”

Sharon rolled her eyes, lowering her forehead to rest against him and shaking her head.  “I’m in love with a fucking moron,” she muttered to his chest.  Then, looking up at him again, she said, “We’ll come back to that.  Right now, I just need you to try to hear me about this.”

But Steve wasn’t hearing anything.  He was blinking at her, his face an absolute mask of surprise.  

“What?”  Sharon demanded sharply.

“You…  You said…”

“I said you need to listen to me.”

“You said you’re in love with me.”

“I said I’m in love with a moron, and that we’d come back to that.  Focus!”

Steve smiled weakly, still looking at her with wonderment, as though he’d never seen her before but found her fascinating.  It was definitely about time he looked at her like that, but right now she was trying to make a crucially important point that could have repercussions for the whole world.

“You said it yourself. You and Tony need to make up.  You need to find a way to start working your way back to trusting one another.  You both fucked up.  Huge.”

“I didn’t-“

“You left him to deal with the Accords by himself.  You turned half the team against him.  And then you beat the shit out of him and threw your shield away like it was nothing.”

“I could have killed him. I didn’t.”

“No, you just left him for dead.”

Steve broke away angrily and turned back toward the window.  “I think you and I might have different definitions of the word loyalty, Sharon.”

Undeterred, Sharon just closed the distance again.  “Loyalty doesn’t mean saying what you want to hear.  Loyalty means saying what you need to hear.  And you need to hear Tony’s side of the story, which is what I just told you.  Do you really think you’re blameless in all this?”

Steve scoffed furiously, but didn’t answer.  

“Just think about it,” Sharon said, giving his arm a squeeze.  “I’m going to go check on Tony and Bruce.”

She walked slowly across the large room, wondering whether she’d just ruined any chance she might have had with the man she loved.  The man she’d just, entirely without her knowledge or consent, told she loved him.  She hoped he would stop her, or say something to let her know he understood that she was trying to help him, and Tony, and the Avengers.

He didn’t.

[norollah7-blog]

Squeeze

One Thousand Eight Hundred and Fifty Three.

My eyes opened, I let out a deep sigh, the sounds of screeching to my side, the portal was closing as it always does, how had I gotten myself into this mess? Was I to be trapped here for all time? Will I eventually be driven to the point of insanity as those in Suramar were?..

No point in wondering on this subject, we knew what we had to do, I looked over to the undead, Ithandru I used to call him, there was no point in using names anymore however, our minds were linked as if we were the same person, every action I made he knew before I would do it and was able to act accordingly, we nodded to eachother and made our way towards the walled city, we stood by it for a portion of time before a catapult had eventually broken down a hole in the side of it, allowing us to enter.

There was little point in trying anymore, we had exhausted roughly every different variation of attack, we had recruited an entire block of citizens to help us, we had negotiated with the undead, we had been risen as ghouls and attacked that way, there was no variable that allowed us to get to the necromancer with adequate mana to be able to face him ourselves, no amount of training could matter, our brains might remember, but our muscles forget.

But something had felt different this time.. As if the air was brighter, almost like there was just a glimpse of light as the scourge were raiding the city.. But this was never here before, no matter pondering it, we had to make our way back to the center of the block and begin fighting before the guards were all slaughtered, there were always so few scourge here, it seemed they had cared more for the throne and center of the city rather than the outskirts, which is just where we had to be.

Interesting, there were more guards this time around, they seemed more invigorated than usual, but the ghouls were still fighting the last two remaining down at the bottom of the staircase, they were able to take care of them, we had to take care of the two knights which were going to flank us in thirty four seconds, I looked to Ithandru and nodded to him again, my magic did not fare well against them, we had found that the best thing I was able to manage against them with was simple a conjured blade and shield.

I looked to the two pieces of equipment the guards held and imprinted them into my memory, and began forming icy figures of their very armor, sword, and shields, I hunkered down behind the one building as I prepared to strike, with Ithandru being the bait as he was casting a fireball.

Ozevmwvi

The first knight rounded the corner and stared at Ithandru for a moment, letting out a low growl as he let out a ghastly scream, clomp clomp, clomp clomp, clomp clomp, the second knight began making his way to us with his horse, we had little time to deal with the first knight.

Bropvm

I raised my arm to the knight, a good offense is a good defense, took that a bit too literally as the armor I was wearing splintered into thousands of icy shards, sharper than the tip of a dagger, they pierced the knights

Confusvw

Armor, he looked back to me as what was basically thousands of thorns were entrenched in him, it was more to distract than it was to actually hurt, Ithandru had finished casting Famrlrar Pyroblast and launched it to the knight’s leg, tripping him over onto his knee.

So.. confused, what is happening? I have not felt this since I entered and lost it, how is it back? Have I finally lost my mind? I could smell it.. The perfume, it wasn’t close but I could smell it from a mile away, I could picture the purple strands of hair and th--

This was merely to buy us time as the one on the unholy horse had rounded the corner, wielding a broadsword with eyes of ice, a glowing blue that you could feel staring at your soul, I always seemed to have a better chance against him, presumably due to--

She can’t be here... this can’t be her, she doesn’t feel like this, she didn’t feel like this, how would she be here? Why would anyone come looking for us? How did anyon--

My limited training against the knights of stormwind, in case there was ever a problem that arose that required me to have the knowledge to fight one equipped with a steed.

The mounted knight charged at me, and the one standing on the ground wielding a greatsword launched what I can only describe as a screaming skull of undeath at Ithandru, I squeezed onto my blade as I prepared to block the first broadsword strike, it always hurts, my arm becomes sore after this, but there is no way to dodge this attack that allows me to be in the correct position. It slowly began hitting me, the link that we had once shared, but how..? I can’t continue thinking about this, limited time. I blocked the attack from the broadsword and was sent flying to the ground, the steed was now above me, he seemed to point his sword at me and prepare to stab, I rolled underneath the stomach of the skeletal horse, quickly stabbing my sword through the ribcage and into the knight’s leg, lodging it stuck between two ribs, disallowing him to yank himself off, I then conjured another sword as I pushed myself up and away from the knight, looking over to Ithandru, holding his own, happily the greatsword was quite dodgeable, and fireballs quick.

I slinged my right arm to the side as I quickly conjured another blade, this one a bit sharper than the other, though this would also mean the slightest bit more... shatterable, I squeezed to the handle tightly, losing grip could mean the end of it.

Purple strands of hair had rounded the corner, I could hear her voice, her voice... her, she was here, how was she here, she can’t be here, not trapped with us, no, no, this isn’t possible, it’s been years, how could she be here now, why is she here now, light I can’t have her in trouble, I could see her face, it was in the distance, I had to focus on the knight for now but I was too distracted by simply her existence, a highly noticeable strike by the broadsword i had missed, it had cut deep into my back, no major parts of my internals were struck but it was pain surging through me, how could I have missed the attack, four one thousands variations I have known of it and dodged it...

No matter, I turned around after being struck and stumbling forwards, raising my shield to block a second strike, the knight could tell that i had been distracted momentarily though unsure what from, he took the opportunity to have his horse charge through me again, attempting to topple me to the ground which it nearly had though not quite...

He had not stopped going in that direction, he was running from the fight, where was he goi--

Oh goddess, he was charging to her, where was she, was she safe, did she see him, please, no

All I could hear before I had rounded the corner was a yelp, and maniacal laughter, followed by the sound of hooves upon stone, moving away... away.... Further away.

I turned the corner

Crimson pooled at the streets, purple strands of hair were cut, a deep gash across the stomach, I could barely feel my own legs, I could barely hear myself think or the words I was yelling as I ran to the near lifeless body, it was her, it was her oh goddess how was it her, I cradled her in my arms and the world continued feeling further away from me, I had lost all feeling in my body by this point, all that I could feel was the shivering body I held in my arms, I rocked back and forth, I tried to seal it with ice but there was nothing I could do, the wound was too deep, the bleeding was internal as much as it was external, not even a healer would help this, her perfume, she still wore it... but the smell of iron was now weighing heavily over it.

I held you in my arms yet again as you fell lifeless, was this my own personal hell I wondered, was this how the cycle would end, was I finally free after you had finally found your way to me and died?

I wondered all of this as the knight had slain Ithandru and slowly made his way towards me, I could barely hear his footsteps or the cries from my friend, all of it was white noise, I stared into her eyes as she gripped my arm and fell limp, her eyes I could stare at for hours.. I could barely feel as the knight put his blade in front of me and slowly dragged it across... all I could do was squeeze her tightly.

One Thousand Eight Hundred and Fifty Four.

My eyes opened, I let out a deep sigh, the sounds of screeching to my side, the portal was closing as it always does, I looked over to the undead, Ithandru, I knew what I had to do.

[hypermanga]

Beauty to the beast

3rd person POV

The Pit was emptier than what was usual, only  a few initiates that went here and there, if it wasn’t for a tattoo, it was to buy some clothes.

But there was a particular girl, (Y/N), who wasn’t interested in any of this, in fact, she could be seen in a corner, snuggled in her big black jacket and her hair in a neat ponytail, holding a book.

2nd person POV

“You should do other things apart from reading” huffing while crouching down your best friend back in Abnegation, Andrea, tried to take you out from your trance"But it’s the best part!“ You answered back, the same answer as always.

“That forsaken book…How many times will you have to read it before you grow tired of it?”

“Dunno”

“You’re such an unusual person (Y/N), that’s why I love you” She snatched the book from your hands, a gasp escaping from your lips “Ah,ah,ah…Not before you come with me to get a tattoo”

Sighing, you made your way with her to the tattoo parlor, Tori waving us as the neon lights danced creating curious patterns “So…What’re you getting?” Looking at her arleady tattoed wrists, you crossed your arms “I’m getting a…"She tapped her chin, spinning around to finally stop in what seemed like a tribal design.

After she disappeared behind the curtain, you retrieved your book, slumping down in a sofa.

“If it isn’t the Dauntless bookworm…The same as always I suppose” Your eyes widened at that voice. Eric, the one and only Dauntless leader.

“Yes and, as per usual, I was in the best part” You didn’t lift your eyes from the book, feeling Eric’s mocking gaze and matching smirk burning holes in your skull.

Eric was the only one who always started a conversation about you and your book. It made your day, even if he mocked your attitude sometimes.

“You know (Y/N), i’ve always been interested, which book is it?” “I’m sure you don’t know it” In fact, I don’t know if you have any knowledge in literature, you thought, but bit your tongue in fear those words would come out “I’ll be deciding that, initiate” You closed your book, putting it in your bag “It’s Romeo and Juliet. There, happy?”

Then, the unexpected happened. Eric laughed. A ghost of a smile appeared in your features, but was replaced by a frown as he spoke up.

 "Of course it had to be that one” “What? Any problem?” “The stereotypical one for a girl” “Oh! And Mr. I-know-about-literature-so-don’t-contradict-me wouldn’t happen to know which books are not the stereotypical ones?”

Crap, you had sassied beyond your limits the man that could kick you out of Dauntless even if you were ranking the first ones in the Initiation, which wasn’t even the case.

Well, at least I lived…

“Come” You opened your eyes, looking directly at his blue orbs “God, do I even have to carry you there?” “Carry me where?” “Shut up and follow me”

You did as you were told, waving goodbye to Tori who had gone out a moment to drink some water.

As you made your way to an unknown place, you started to make possible scenarios ‘He could make me clean the dishes in the dining hall…Nevermind we passed it’ ‘He might make me run a hundred million laps in the gym…Nope’

A hundred hypothesis later, you realised where you were “The leaders dorms?” “A quick one, aren’t you?”

He took a key from his pocket, and opened the door of his bedroom, you assumed , and entered to a dark room.

“Watch out where you step” You stopped dead in tracks and waited for him to open the light. Wise decision really, you would have stumbled with…Wait, books?

You picked the first one you saw, which had a nice red cover. Turning it over, you read the title “So…King Arthur’s tales huh? It has love Eric, aren’t you a softie?” He just rolled his eyes and took the book.

You were surprised by how many books he had, and of all genres, from horror to comedy, going to philosophical and romance “I thought Dauntless people didn’t read?” “I’m not originally from here, I was an Erudite” “That’s why you’re such a smartass sometimes” You whispered to yourself “ I heard you initiate” You cursed under your breath, making Eric smirk “Don’t tell anyone you’ve been here, or you’ll be Factionless in a matter of seconds. Got it?”

Nodding nerviously, you went to exit the room when Eric’s voice called you “We should repeat this kind of stuff…I’m a little bit oxidated with the reading culture because of the Leader thing”

You smiled to yourself and bid him goodbye, before going to the Pit to finish your good old book.

Every afternoon after dinner, you met at his room and spent time reading and commenting chapters. Sometimes, you read eachother’s parts of a book which you really liked, enjoying the times. It became like a tradition for both.

Eric didn’t know how to feel about it, he tried to erase from his memory your smiley face, the voices you put when you read a part from one of your books or how you blowed the hair out of your face which prevented you from reading.

It was too much for him, for he didn’t know how to cope with this emotions.

As he sat in a reunion, Max sat beside him, smirking at how distressed the Leader was “You look somewhat distressed” “…” “You seem troubled for something” “…” “Is the beast in love with the beauty?” “Oh, just shut up Max” How did he know about it? “I saw you the other day how you talked at the doorway of your room about a book”

Eric got red instantly, for his friend had hit the bullseye “Normally, I’d ban this kind of things, but she makes you less grumpier than usual, so I’ll help you” “I don’t need anyone’s help” He muttered, clenching his fists.

After the meeting, he got to his room, thinking how he could confess to you in a creative way, for you weren’t a normal kind of girl.

He spent the evening thinking about it, until he stumbled your book, Romeo and Juliet “I’m gonna look like a brat…But, if she likes me back, then so be it”.

You skipped contently to Eric’s room, ready for a new reading session. As you knocked on the door, you found it was already open , and Eric was sitting at the end of his bed, tapping his fingers over a book cover.

“Oh, of course I forgot it here!” You laughed and went to get it back, only to be stopped by Eric “This is the most dumbass thing I’ll ever do…” You arched your brow at that statement “But if I don’t say it now, I might never have the guts again”

“What are you say…”

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss”

There was an awkward silence, your faces heating and turning bright red “God, now you think I’m such a weirdo”. You rose up from your seat and started the next dialogue

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss”

You smiled, looking down at your boots .

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” Eric stood in front of you, as if he wanted to hold your hands.

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer” Intertwining your fingers, you stared at his blue orbs.

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair” As he finished the part, he leaned down and connected your lips with his in a tender kiss. Closing your eyes, you rested your palms on his chest and enjoyed the kiss.

As you parted, you smiled “Shakespeare?” “C'mon, you have to say it was genious” Eric smirked, crossing his arms in a cocky manner "And you said it was girl’s book huh?“ You mimicked his pose and smirk.

“For you, I can make an exception”

MASTERLIST

~~~~~~

@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @beltz2016 @readsalot73 @kenzieam @captstefanbrandt @sserpente @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure

[taylorinthe20s]

blog post five: book review on How to Do Nothing by Jenny Odell

1. What is your favorite quote from the book and why do you find it meaningful?

“Let's not forget that, in a time of increasing climate-related events, those who help you will likely not be your Twitter followers; they will be your neighbors.”

This quote is meaningful within my own life because as a fellow Gen-Z, my entire existence seems to be validated by my social media presence - which is ridiculous to say out loud, or rather - type. I am so much more than the amount of followers, likes, or comments I receive online. It is true that the ones who will help and support us most are the ones that we truly value in real life, in person.

2. Why do you think this book, released by indie publishing house Melville Press, has become an unexpected bestseller in Corona Times?

In a time where we were meant to “do nothing” during the pandemic, I think many turned to this book for answers. Being stuck in one's home every single day can be a lonely and crucial self-reflection period, and this particular book has an immense amount of knowledge on how to change your perspective of where you see yourself in this world. The New York Times described it as “A Manifesto for Opting Out of an Internet-Dominated World” and it is just that - how to detach yourself from your life online and becoming closer to the natural world around us. During Corona times, that is what was needed since we were seemingly forced to only have a presence online, rather than living a life in person.

3. How does the attention economy benefit from our social media activity and media streaming consumption?

The real question is, how does it not? That is what it is built on - activity and consumption. During my time in quarantine I watched the documentary The Social Dilemma and was horrified, and again after reading this novel, I had to come to the scary terms that the attention economy benefits from our endless screen time. Apps such as Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter are primarily active agents in the attention economy before being communication platforms. This is due to the aesthetics, selfie culture, and business purposes where focus is now primarily on attention rather than communication.

4. How does this book relate to the topic of celebrity culture?

People's obsession with celebrities is heavily related to the attention economy and how this is seen through social media. Their digital presence receives thousands of likes, retweets, and self-comparison from “normal folks” who live life unseen from the constant public eye. Celebrities are the opposite of “doing nothing” as they are consistently photographed and are forced to have an online presence, even being in pages of gossip magazines shopping in grocery stores with the headline, “Celebrities - They’re Just Like Us!” - but they’re not. It is almost seemingly impossible for them to “do nothing” since they rely on their socials and standing, because they need the attention for their occupation.

5. Do you take digital detox breaks? If yes, describe them. Have they been more challenging during the quarantine era? Why?

Yes I do take digital detox breaks, because I really have to. Due to my mental health struggles, and my Gen-Z obsession with social media, I become too dependent on refreshing my feed or comparing myself to those who have a perfectly curated page to the point where it becomes mentally and physically draining. During these breaks I typically delete apps off my phone such as Instagram and Facebook, and try to stay off my phone as much as I can to focus on being present and giving time to things that feed my soul, rather than harm it. I have even started having my mom (since I am currently living at home during the pandemic) place my phone in another room at night so that I am not constantly staring at a screen or “refreshing” for no reason. Digital detox breaks have become more difficult within the quarantine era because as I stated earlier, this time has forced us to have an online presence more than ever as we have been unable to enjoy eachothers company in person. We do everything online, and now when you are off social media, you feel even more FOMO because it is the only thing we are seemingly able to see of each other's lives.

6. Do you sleep with your phone or computer? Are you aware of impacts on your sleep cycles and relaxation caused by overnight proximity?

I sleep with my phone right next to me on my bedside table pretty much every night, but my computer and desktop are on my desk across the room. I am aware of the very negative effects this has on your sleep, and am guilty of not putting in place the proper measures to help my sleep and relaxation - which I so desperately need. As I said within my last response, I have been trying to keep, and charge, my phone in another room other than my bedroom at night so that my screen time does not impact my sleep cycle. I have noticed that this has been very helpful, and I wake up feeling much more rested than I do when it is right next to me. What’s funny is that even though I know this can help, my anxiety always kicks in and I feel the “need” to have it next to me just in case - of course feeding into the very negative rabbit hole of FOMO.

7. What is the role of nature in Odell's book, in particular the role of birds? (P.S. Did you know that birdwatching has become a HUGE pastime in the Covid era with a Snow Owl becoming a celebrity in NYC's Central Park?

Observing birds requires you to do nothing - it is the opposite of looking something up online. You can’t look for birds - you can’t have it identify itself to you. All you can really do is walk and wait until you hear something and then stand motionless trying to figure out what type of bird it is or how it sounds. In Jenny’s experience, time stops during this activity. It allowed her to pay more attention to the environment around her - to actually hear birds sing and notice this. These retreats affect the way we see everyday life when we do come back to it.

(I also did not know that birdwatching had become a huge pastime in the COVID era, but it does warm my heart to hear so. I have always found myself noticing birds in my surrounding environment when others don’t, so to read this within the book was comforting to me.)

8. Experiment: Leave your phone at home for one hour to take a walk in your neighborhood. Write down your observations when you return and draw a map of your path. What did you observe?  Take a photo of your map to include in your book review. Did the experience provide any revelations? Were you anxious, relieved, inspired? Did you notice anything you'd never seen before?

The beginning of my walk made me feel a bit anxious as for some reason, I rely on my phone for safety and as a woman, always feel the need to be on high alert. Luckily, my neighborhood is reliable and safe, so once the small fear subsided, I found myself appreciating the environment around me as I had not done since I was a kid. I walked from my house to a local park, where dogs were running around, people were playing cornhole, and two musicians were putting on a free concert for those who wanted to stop. I listened to the many sounds nature provides us constantly, and noticed myself being grateful for the fresh air that we so rarely get to breathe in due to masks (I am now vaccinated!). I even became a bit emotional because it was a great reminder of how beautiful the space I live in is, and how happy the outside can be - I really felt like my kid self again which has been rare. I noticed how the environment within my neighborhood still felt the same as when I was younger - the freshness, the greenery, the familiarity.

9. What does Odell mean by 'doing nothing?' Are we capable of doing nothing?

Odell states, “I want to be clear that I’m not actually encouraging anyone to stop doing things completely. In fact, I think that “doing nothing”—in the sense of refusing productivity and stopping to listen—entails an active process of listening that seeks out the effects of racial, environmental, and economic injustice and brings about real change. I consider “doing nothing” both as a kind of deprogramming device and as sustenance for those feeling too disassembled to act meaningfully. On this level, the practice of doing nothing has several tools to offer us when it comes to resisting the attention economy.” I sure hope that we are capable of doing nothing, but it has become a notion that is difficult for myself to believe in fully as I see the damage social media has done to those around me. Now, more than ever, we have a responsibility to help change our world for the better - to help it heal. We need to engage in active listening, placing less importance of an online presence into being more present in general.