#maybe like... shortly before the bee mission ]]

[in1-nutshell]

Hey!

I don't know if you alredy watched the movie by time I send this so just in case spoiler alert.

Can I please request for Transformers One Bee where before he was sent to floor 50 he use to have a spark make/conjux (Buddy) that was miner but since is been so long Buddy worked hard and got promoted to Elite guard with the mission of finding what they did to Bee only for them to be reunited when she was given the task to protect guard Sentinel when he got capture after the attack, also I like the idea that Sentinel did it on purpose to remain Buddy of who was in power since he is that evil and suspected Buddy was about to strike.

Was thinking on going for a more angsty route... but then I saw B-127's face again and couldn't do it. B must have FLUFF!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy being B-127's Conjunx and a Guard

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Romance, Cybertronian reader

TF1

B-127 didn’t have a lot of luck going on in his life.

He knew that but tried his best to think optimistically.

Sure, he has been bouncing from job position to job position, but it was thanks to all that bouncing around that he found the love of his life.

B-127 met Buddy under… less likely circumstances…

B-127 walking around looking at his new work environment. B-127: “Not too bad of a place. Maybe a bit of color and some entertainment, but other than that its—” SHRIEK! BANG! CLANK! He was now on the ground groaning in pain. B-127 looked up to see what exactly happened to him. His vision was a bit blurry when a silhouette appeared in front of him. A pretty face…

B-127: “Primus…” Buddy: “Sweet Solus Prime! I didn’t see you there! Let me help you up!” Buddy takes their servos and helps the disoriented bot up. Buddy: “I am SO Sorry! I know the mining carts go fast but I didn’t it would go that fast! And by the time I saw you the breaks were too slow, and I tried getting you attention—and now I’m rambling again…” Buddy vents before putting on a smile and offering him a handshake. Buddy: “I’m Buddy.” B-127 finds a goofy smile creeping onto his faceplate. B-127: “B-127.” Somewhere in the crowd someone calls out Buddy. Buddy: “I’ll catch up later D! Go ahead with Pax!” Buddy turns back to the yellow mech. Buddy: “Sorry about that, my neighbors wanted to show me something, but I’ll do it later.”

It didn’t take long before the two started going out as a couple after a few months into their jobs.

Things got a bit harder when B-127 was moved to another job position a bit farther from Buddy’s.

But that didn’t stop them.

 No, if anything it made Buddy more determined to spend time with him.

It would be a while of courting each other before they finally decided to perform the Conjunx Endura rites.

Sadly, shortly after that, B-127 went ‘missing’.

Buddy was demanding every supervisor they saw any information on their Conjunx.

No one said anything about his whereabouts.

A new goal was set.

Buddy was to rise above the ranks, higher than any miner could even dream of.

Climb the ranks to become one of Sentinel Prime’s Elite Guard.

It sounded insane, but if anyone knew where their Conjunx was, it would have to be Sentinel.

Buddy nearly gave up several times but the soft hums of their spark, of the bond reminded them why they were fighting for.

It took longer than they would have liked it, especially given that they had no T-cog, but they finally managed to become one of the guard.

Sentinel looking over at his newest member of the Guard. Sentinel: “So, you’re the little bot who’s been making all the commotion within my guard.” Sentinel walks around them. Buddy stiffens as he walks and as Arachnid watches silently. Buddy: “My only wish is to serve and protect you Sentinel Prime, sir.” Sentinel stops in front of them, then smiles. Sentinel: “I like you. How about you become one of my personal guard bots? You’ll be by my side almost all the time and you get a room near my quarters.” Buddy’s optics widen a bit but manages to keep their composure. Buddy: “It would be a great honor Sentinel Prime, sir.” Sentinel: “Stop calling me sir and you start your new job tomorrow?” The Prime offers them his servo to shake. Buddy smiles and shakes it. Buddy: “I’m looking forward to it.”

Buddy gained a position even better than what they had hoped for.

B-127 was going to be found even sooner!

…except it didn’t.

Sentinel was a busy bot and always wanted to drag Buddy with him everywhere.

So much so, Sentinel had gotten Buddy some wax and new Guard paintjob.

It felt… wrong.

They didn’t know how to explain it, but the paint, new blasters, and mask felt wrong.

Something was wrong.

Whenever Sentinel wasn’t dragging them around Iacon, he had them guard special levels in the Archieve’s.

Buddy thought for sure that they would find something about B-127’s location there.

Buddy looks at the data chips and slugs in their servos. Buddy: “One of them has to have it…” Suddenly a large frame turned the corner and shown a bright light in their face. Buddy: “ACK! Darkwing its me!” The guard turned off his flashlight and scoffed. Darkwing: “What are you doing here? Sentinel got tired of you?” Buddy: “I’m just doing some research Sentinel asked me to do.” Darkwing scoffed before leaving. Darkwing: “Miners…” Buddy scoffed once he was out of earshot. Buddy: “Miner guards…” Meanwhile… B-127, D-16, Orion Pax and Elita-One walking on the surface. B-127: “My Conjunx would love it up here!” D-16: “B, you don’t need to start talking about your ‘Conjunx’ again.” B-127: “Hey! They’re real!” Orion and Elita: “Sure…”

Nothing.

Buddy felt as if they were going on a wild chase all over Iacon looking for their Conjunx.

…But anything was worth it in the end, for him it was.

It would be a couple of days later that Buddy would receive a message for all guard bots to report to Sentinel.

Buddy was not expecting for cuffed mech’s to enter the room.

Many they recognized from B-127’s rants on the High Guard.

They nearly broke character when they saw a bot that looked suspiciously like B-127 and an old berthmate D-16.

They could not believe what they were hearing when Sentinel started talking about executing them all and for the trade he was doing with the Quintessons.

Buddy is gripping their staff tighter with all Sentinel was confessing. Behind their mask was a scowl and a look of betrayal. Their world came crashing down when they heard the yellow bot speak. B-127: “That is not the truth!” Sentinel got up in B-127’s face and presses his sword against his face. Sentinel: “The truth is what I say!” SHINK! Buddy pulled out their staffs point. Sentinel: “Ah, yes. Do me a favor and terminate the one with the mouth.” Buddy just walked over to the pair before ramming the blunt end into one of Sentinel’s joint, catching him over guard and pushing him back. The High Guard, D-16 and B-127 looked in shock. Buddy stands in front of B-127. Buddy: “You not only have lied to all of us, but you just threatened my Conjunx’s life. And no one, and I mean, NO ONE does that on MY watch!” B-127 stares in disbelief as Buddy takes off their mask and throws it to the ground. B-127 and D-16: “Buddy!?” He turns to D-16. B-127: “I told you I wasn’t making them up!” D-16: “Now is not the time…”

Buddy tries their best to stay in between Sentinel and D-16 once they saw the Prime going to the standing miner.

The Prime easily grabbed them, bent their staff and servo in the process and casted them aside like scrap.

B-127 tried to get up, but Arachnid quickly restrained him.

D-16 looked downright murderous.

Buddy didn’t get up until they saw the engraving Sentinel gave to D-16.

They grabbed their broken staff and tried to stab the Prime.

Sentinel once again grabbed them with one servo while the other held his sword…

Sentinel: “Any last words miner?” Buddy glanced at a panic B-127 and a disbelief D-16. They looked back at the Prime and spat in his face. Buddy: “Rust in the Pits Sentinel.” HONK! HONK! Buddy: “Is that Pax?!”

The train had crashed into the wall throwing Sentinel and Buddy back.

B-127 quickly ran to Buddy’s side and pulled them out of the wreck with D-16 and Orion.

Buddy finally regained their conscious and hugged B-127 tightly.

He only hugged tighter.

Soon blaster fire was exchanged.

B-127 pulled Buddy close and covered them with his now larger frame.

The pair did not want to let go of each other, but Pax needed him.

Buddy just told him to go while they had D-16’s back.

D-16 and Buddy fighting Sentinel. Buddy: “When did you guys get big! And transform!?” D-16 blasting away: “Are you seriously asking that right now?!” Buddy ducking bast a stray blast. Buddy: “Absolutely!” D-16: “Long story short, Dead Prime gave us some T-cog’s, which we had but HE stole them!” Buddy scowls at Sentinel managing to kick him in the chin. Buddy: “You sick son of a—” D-16: “When were you going to tell us you were Conjunxed!?” Buddy: “I told you already!” D-16: “But why B!” Buddy: “He makes me laugh!” Buddy and D-16 look at each other then at Sentinel by the balcony. D-16: “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Buddy: “This is some grade A Pax stunts. Absolutely!”

The three of them stumbled out of the building and into the center arena.

It almost looked like some sort of stage now looking back.

Despite the size difference, Buddy and D-16 fought together like a well-oiled machine.

They both wanted Sentinel to suffer.

All they had worked for was ultimately for nothing.

Everything they worked for was to support this tyrant and his selfish ways.

No more…

No more!

Buddy stopped fighting for a minute when Orion pushed D-16 canon out of the way.

They didn’t know what was happening.

Then Orion was hit.

Buddy and D-16 both dove in grabbed the same servo. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Buddy: “Orion!” Orion: “Buddy?” D-16: “Why… why did you…?” Buddy remembered the sickening chill that went down their backstruts when they saw D-16’s optics go red. Buddy: “D?” D-16: “I’m done saving you.” D-16 let his grip go of Orion’s servo. Buddy quickly reached with their other servo to Orion’s. Buddy: “Orion hang on! D! D! What are you—” They felt a large servo grabbing their back and yanking them so hard that their grip loosened on Pax’s servos, sending him plummeting to the darkness bellow. Buddy looks at D-16 with tear filled optics. Buddy: “What did you do?!” Last thing they remembered was a fist heading way too fast to their face and screaming before everything went black.

When Buddy woke back up, they were in some sort of medbay.

The doctor gave them a curt nod and called in the visitors.

Buddy vented in relief when they saw Orion, now Optimus Prime, Elita-One and B-127, the last one racing towards them.

He placed their helm on his as he took a shaky vent and held their servo.

For once, he had nothing to say.

B-127 nearly lost the love of his life today and was not keen repeating the feeling again.

Never again.

[catleha]

  ‹  YEARS HAD LOST THEIR MEANING / TIME BUT A WORD; matters had become unbearable / solitude searched for one reason only. Those eager to keep secrets were deemed disposable, aye ... mayhap one could consider herself simply as detestable too [birds of a feather, aye, recall the mysteries you keep]. HYPOCRITE: a woman ever unwilling to delve into personal matters / to confront what lurked deep within; regret, worry, pure loathe. -- mayhap ‘twas for the better; to never return back to where they hailed from. Call it a new start, a chance to make amends. -- FOOL: a woman prone to recoil, falling back into treacherous habits / again consumed by an all too familiar ache.

     ❛  dread me all you like. ❜  ‘blast from the past’: lo, there a man. A companion once considered a friend / a brother / a hand held in turbulent times [recall all the things you STOLE / guilt, guilt, guilt!]. -- never would she admit it / how much heart had ached upon self-induced separation [to be torn apart again & again & again] his features had become a blur, sharp jaw & dark yet trusting eyes lost midst bouts of aether. Aye, remember, remember: how you have laid awake in the Rising Stones at night / painting petite pictures in your mind [never forget, she begs, never forget]. Say, does it matter now? Ghost in a shell, ever eager to prolong the inevitable.  ❛ 'tis quite immature to run from conflict akin to a child afraid of their mother’s scolding. -- you came here on your own accords thus I reckoned you would at least have the decency to be candid. ❜ 

     Cue a pause, scorched glance cast elsewhere. His aether was but dim / fluctuating all too unsteadily / winding under the weight of gruff introversion. How it plagued him so: hardened again, by loss & guilt as intensely felt as her very own pulse. && yet it was not pity one yielded to, alas, but rage. -- features twist, blind eyes narrowed in a disdainful glare; unyielding in her displeasure, arms folded in a manner that left no room for doubt. -- aye, speak of verities & ‘how-to-be-heartfelt’ as if own lies & idle excuses had not been just as dire.  ❛  'twould seem I was mistaken. ❜ @hisburden​, because we love to suffer.

[multifandomfanfiction]

Getting Married Today

TITLE: Getting Married Today PAIRING: Jack/Elizabeth RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Nearly two years after Jack and Elizabeth met, they're getting married.

[A/N - Requested by @samdallas.]

“There, all done,” Ginger said, putting the finishing touches on Elizabeth’s makeup.

“Thank you for helping me get ready, Ginger.” It’s not like Elizabeth had a mother to help her with things like this.

“Jess! Don’t put that in your mouth! It’s not food!” Elizabeth pulled the plastic flower petal out of her one-year-old daughter’s mouth. Elizabeth sighed. Maybe it was a bad idea to have her be the flower girl. Maybe she should have just asked one of Champ’s many granddaughters to do it.

There was a knock at the door and Eggsy entered.

“Bethy…wow.”

Elizabeth looked beautiful in her elegant, but simple wedding dress.

It was made of silky material that hugged her chest, but then flared out into a princess skirt. The sleeves were lace, along with her veil.

“It’s not too much, is it?” Elizabeth asked. She had wanted Eggsy and Harry to be there when she picked it out, along with Champ and Ginger, but Eggsy was on a mission at the time and Harry was attending to important Kingsman business.

Ginger made sure to get good pictures to send to them later.

Since retiring from Statesman shortly after Jessie’s birth, he had become a stay-at-home dad. He was currently working on fixing up a small ranch he bought using his pension and they were planning on moving into it as soon as they returned from their honeymoon.

“Whiskey’s gonna fall over when he sees you.”

Elizabeth blushed. “You think so?”

“Luv, you could wearing a paper bag and the man would still think you were ‘the most gorgeous creature I ever laid eyes on’".

Elizabeth laughed. “Your Southern accent is improving.”

Eggsy handed Elizabeth her bouquet as Harry entered the room.

“Elizabeth, you look beautiful.” He walked over to her and pulled out a sapphire teardrop necklace.

Elizabeth gasped. “Harry, it’s beautiful.”

He clasped it around her neck and said, “Now you have your something blue.”

Elizabeth never put much stock in traditions, but being in America (and Kentucky) Jack wanted the wedding to be as traditional as possible. Elizabeth had teased him and called him old-fashioned due to his age. Elizabeth had never envisioned herself getting married, so she went along with whatever Jack wanted.

For her borrowed item, Ginger lent her a tennis bracelet given to her by her mother.

For her old item, Jack had given her a pair of his grandmother’s earrings and for her new item, Eggsy had bought her a pair of cowboy boots that she wore under her wedding dress.

The wedding march started up and Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“You ready Bethy? Still time to run,” Eggsy told her.

“I’m ready.”

Eggsy picked Jessie and her little basket up.

Elizabeth looped her arm around Harry’s and he set his hand on top of hers.

Eggsy walked down the aisle holding Jessie and throwing the flower petals on the floor.

Everyone smiled and cooed.

Then it came time for Elizabeth to walk down the aisle.

“Would you laugh at me if I said this is more terrifying than Kingsman training?” Elizabeth asked Harry.

Harry kissed her temple. “Courage, Lizzy-Bee. Ready when you are, love.”

Elizabeth looked at Jack standing there, Tequila by his side. Elizabeth hadn’t chosen a maid of honor, preferring to leave that position open in honor of Roxie. Before she knew it, Elizabeth had reached the altar.

“Who gives this woman away to be married?” the pastor asked.

“I do,” Harry said. Harry kissed her cheek and placed her hands in Jack’s.

Elizabeth listened to the pastor drone on and on. She’d never been very religious, so she could care less about what he was saying.

They came to the vow section and like everything else, they were traditional.

“I, Jack Daniels, take you Elizabeth Tate, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

“I, Elizabeth Tate, take you Jack Daniels, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.”

Jack flipped Elizabeth’s veil and cupped her face before kissing her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels!”

Everyone started cheering and clapping as Jack and Elizabeth kissed again.

Taglist: @pedrostories

[hopelikethemoon]

all ours (Javier x Reader)

Title: all ours  Rating: PG-13 Length: 3.2K Warnings: Angst, pregnancy stuff (braxton hix), and fluff. Notes: Set in the maybe today, maybe forever universe, shortly before Josie is born.   Taglist: @grapemama​  @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex​​ @ham4arrow​​ @hiscyarika​ @plexflexico​ @readsalot73​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​

Javier was snoring beside you, not frustratingly loud snoring, but rather the sort of snoring that just made you envious that he could sleep. And peacefully. You missed sleep.  You missed a lot of things that came with not being pregnant. You missed being able to sleep on your side, you missed beer, you missed seeing your feet, you missed wearing clothes that weren’t made like sacks, and you even missed sex. Despite the occasional passing desire, you had been far too miserable the past month to summon the energy to enjoy anything related to sex. 

You missed a lot of things that came with not being pregnant. You missed being able to sleep on your side, you missed beer, you missed seeing your feet, you missed wearing clothes that weren’t made like sacks, and you even missed sex. Despite the occasional passing desire, you had been far too miserable the past month to summon the energy to enjoy anything related to sex. 

You winced as the baby’s foot once again found your bladder. You readjusted and sighed heavily as you tried to find a position that didn’t put pressure on your back. Everything hurt. All the time. 

You rubbed your hand over your swollen belly, trying to soothe the baby back to sleep. You just needed an hour of sleep. One hour and you could function like a human tomorrow. 

Javier stirred beside you, his foot brushed against yours as he stretched out before he rolled over to face you. “Why are you still awake?”

 “Your baby is rambunctious tonight.” You complained, bunching your pillow up under your head as you settled. “If you can’t sleep, the sofa isn't terrible.”

 Javier arched a brow at you, “I’m not sleeping on the sofa.” He grumbled, shaking his head slowly as he reached out to rest his palm on your stomach, running his fingers over your skin. “You need to settle down little girl, your mommy is trying to sleep.”

Javier threw back his covers and moved to lay down beside your stomach. He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand still resting against your belly right where the baby was kicking. “Does it hurt?” 

 You pursed your lips and shrugged. “It’s uncomfortable, mostly.” You reached down and lazily played with his hair. “You should go back to sleep, Javi. You’ve got the meeting at the embassy tomorrow.”

 “I’m fine.” Javier promised you as he pressed a kiss to your stomach, before his gaze lifted to yours. “Did you put the cocoa butter back in the bathroom?” 

 “Yeah.” You stifled an exhausted yawn as Javier climbed out of the bed. “What are you doing?”

 He walked around to your side of the bed, his expression still soft and warm from the sleep he was pulled from. “Just relax, baby.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. “I’ve got you.”

 Javier returned a few minutes later with the tub of cocoa butter you used on your stretch marks. He turned his bedside lamp on, the room now lit in soft golden hues as he joined you in bed again. 

“Javi.”

“Let me do this for you.” 

Javier shot you a look as he unscrewed the cocoa butter container, sitting the lid aside on the bedside table. He sat the tub down on the comforter as he leaned over to push your tank top out of his way. He ran his fingers over your rounded stomach, with an adoration in his eyes that made your heart flutter. 

You grabbed another pillow and stuffed it behind you, propping yourself up enough to watch him. He dipped two fingers into the butter, scooping up a decent amount and smearing it into his other palm. He dabbed up a little, smearing it over the curve of your stomach. The cocoa butter was cool at the first touch, enough so that a little shiver of delight went through you. But Javier’s touch warmed the chill away, sensing a different type of contentment through you. 

“Do you like that?” He questioned, a grin tugging at his lips as he met your heated gaze. 

“Yeah.” You whispered with a weary smile as your lashes fluttered.  You sank back into your pillows and let yourself get lost in the sensation. 

 “You need sleep too,” Javier whispered as he leaned down to press a kiss to your stomach. 

His hands curled around the sides of your stomach, fingertips drawing tiny patterns into your skin as he applied the cocoa butter. It was the most entrancing sensation, soothing away the stress and tension that you’d carried with you all week. 

His touch didn’t just comfort you — the baby seemed to calm beneath his hands, her swift kicks transforming into the faint flutters of movement. 

You relaxed, letting your eyes slip closed as you focused on the shapes he drew with the butter. They reminded you of the ones he always drew against your thigh. “This is better than sex,” You muttered as you gave into the pull of sleep. 

  ——

  It was unfair how good Javier Peña looked in a suit. Especially when he was just this side of being pissed off after a meeting with the Embassy. They were riding his ass about overspending this quarter, which wasn’t a surprise considering how the mission had been going. The Cali Cartel weren’t as easy to crack down on. 

You had the perfect vantage point from your desk, looking straight through into the glass wall of the conference room where Javier sat getting his ass handed to him. 

But you couldn’t keep staring at him, not without Chris or Daniel getting suspicious. You loaded a new piece of paper into the typewriter, before you got up from your desk to retrieve a file from one of the banker boxes that sat on Javier’s desk. 

You took a step and grimaced, a faint cramp playing across the front of your stomach. You hesitated, rubbing your stomach cautiously. “Shit.” You breathed out. 

You ignored the sensation, reaching for the box and pulling the lid off. 

The pain returned, more severe this time. It felt like a rubberband drawn across your stomach, followed by a short contraction. 

No. No. No. 

Your eyes flickered towards the conference room, hoping to catch Javier’s attention, but he was fuming over something that had been said to him. 

Focused on your breathing, you returned to your desk to snatch up your purse. “I’ll be back.” You offered in response Chris' curious look, before you headed straight for the elevator. 

Contractions.  

You were having contractions and Javier was trapped in a pointless meeting. 

By the time you got down to your car your hands were trembling, your keys shaking between your fingers as you tried to unlock your car. It took you three tries before you slotted the key into the lock. 

You hadn’t felt the sensation again since you started walking. The twinge of pain that had come with the strange cramp was still there, but not nearly as insistent as it first was. 

You drew in a shaky breath as you settled into the driver’s seat, starting up the car to turn the radio on low. You weren’t going to go to the hospital just yet. If they were contractions, they were far enough apart that you didn’t need to rush. 

There wasn’t even a plan. 

You had meant to discuss it with Javier, but it just hadn’t happened yet. 

What would happen when the baby was born?

Would you just drive yourself to the hospital?

Handle everything alone?

Would Javier sit at work and pretend he didn’t care? 

With each passing day, things seemed bleaker. You were impressed is it was that you’d managed to be with Javier for nearly half a year. The years of being his partner seemed like training for spending days-in and days-out with him. Your personalities clashed frequently, too similar in your rationale to let it fester for long. 

Your entire relationship was nothing more than stolen moments, late night conversations, and a deep seated need to make it work. Together. It isn’t easy. The path forward is a difficult one. 

Would it always be like that?

You inhaled sharply as another burst of tension shot across the front of your stomach, a faint flutter of a contraction making you grit your teeth. 

Not now. Please not now. 

You startled at the sound of someone tapping at your car window, pulled out of your focused breathing. 

It’s Javi. 

You cranked the window down, shutting off the radio. “What are you doing out here?”

He tapped the bottom of a pack of cigarettes in the palm of his hand. “Smoke break.” Javier said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. 

“Oh.”

Javier pulled  a cigarette out of the pack, clenching it between his lips as he tucks them back into his breast pocket. “Chris said you left abruptly.” He glanced around the parking lot warily, pulling his aviators down to peer in the window at you. “You good?”

You swallowed thickly and turned your gaze out the windshield. “I thought I was having contractions.”

“Shit.” He clicked the lighter off, not bothering to light his cigarette. “I’m taking my fifteen in your car, unlock it.”

Javier tucked his aviators into the front of his shirt, walking around the front of your car to slide into your passenger seat. “Javi, it’s fine. Go back inside.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Javier spit out as he turned to face you. “What’s wrong?”

“I told you, I thought I was having contractions… I’m fine.” You ran your hand over your stomach, breathing in shakily. “It was just a twinge of pain. It’s fine.”

His eyes flickered around the parking lot cautiously, before he reached over and stroked your stomach. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m fine.” Against better judgment, you rested your hand over his. It was risky, considering you were sitting in the middle of the parking lot in broad daylight. “It’s going to be okay, Javi.”

“Scared the shit out of me.” Javier remarked as his fingers spread out over your stomach. “I looked up during the meeting and saw you were gone.” 

“I could’ve been in the bathroom.”

“Chris made some smartass comment about you leaving the office.” Javier slid his hand out from under yours so he could wrap his fingers around it. 

“You can’t do this here, Javi.” You warned, twisting your hand out of his grasp. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

Javier reeled his hand back in like you had struck him and the look on his face stings. “So, what? You just want me to head back inside and pretend that you’re not potentially going into labor?” He scoffed and stuck the cigarette back in his mouth, clamping his lips down around it as he stared out the window. “Unbelievable.” 

“I’m not going into labor.” You retorted. “These things happen.” You rubbed at your eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine, I promise you. If something happens, I’ll page you.”

“Partners are allowed to give a shit.” He snapped. “No one is going to be suspicious of me taking a smoke break in your car. No one gives a fuck if I care about you giving birth. We’re fucking friends.”

“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled. “I don’t want to lose my job, Javi. I’m already on thin ice because I’m pregnant, I don’t need our secret to ruin my entire career.” 

Javier’s jaw clenched tightly as he glared out the windshield, “This is bullshit.” He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, forcing the one he’d pulled out back into the carton. “No one batted a goddamn eye when we hung out before. You, me, Steve… knocking back drinks after work. Now I so much as look in your direction and you’re convinced our cover’s been blown.” 

“Javier.” You snapped, rubbing your hand over your face as you tried to keep your ire under control. “Do you have any idea how fucking stressful this is for me? I walk into work every morning expecting to get handed the pink slip. I am trying to keep the focus off of me.” 

He dragged his fingers through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I hate this.” 

“Me too.” You bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him. “It’s not the ideal situation, but it’s the best we can do. If I get fired, immigration will terminate my visa and I’ll have to go back to the states.” Hesitantly you reached across the center console and took his hand into yours. Even if someone walked by, you figured they wouldn’t be able to see where your hand was. “And I don’t think either of us want that.” 

Javier shook his head slowly. “No.” He squeezed your hand tightly, interlacing his fingers with yours. He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, his eyes still focused straight ahead. “Can I come over tonight?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.” You retorted, trying to make light of the tension between you. 

His lips twitched into a faint smile and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes, “I”m sorry.”

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand.

“No, baby. I was a jackass.” Javier rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. “This situation is fucking bullshit.” He turned to look out the window beside him. “But you’ve got it worse. Shit, you got all of three hours of sleep last night.” 

You chuckled softly, “ I was only anticipating one hour.” You tensed as you spotted a pair of agents walking through the parking lot. You quickly released your hold on Javier’s hand, playing with the radio. 

“I should probably head back inside,” Javier said reluctantly, raking his fingers through his hair. “You’re sure you’re okay?” 

You nodded and assured him, “I haven’t felt the cramping again. I think I’m going to go rest.” You ran your hand over your stomach, smiling when you felt the faint press of the baby’s hand or foot. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

Javier reached over and rested his palm against your belly, “I’ll see you both at home.” He told you with a serious tone, before he pushed the car door open and headed back into the office. 

Home. 

Your brows furrowed as you considered the word. 

You couldn’t remember hearing him refer to your apartment as home before. Sure, he spent more nights in your bed, than he did his own. When he picked up groceries, they usually ended up in your refrigerator, except for the beer that went back to his. Hell, he even kept a suit alongside his spare clothes in your hall closet. 

He had all but moved into your apartment. 

For someone who had been so nervous about whether Javier could settle down, you’d somehow overlooked the fact that he had. A year ago you wouldn’t have believed that Javi was the type of guy who would stay up to rub cocoa butter over your skin. Or the type of guy to just… move in. You had been convinced that you knew him well. Somehow you’d missed that all of the bravado, the charm, the long list of one night fucks were just a mask. 

Javier had fallen into this pattern of domesticity with surprising ease. 

You knew it wasn’t easy for him either. He couldn’t truly savor the experience of becoming a father. He had to swallow his pride when Chris made snide comments while theorizing who the father was. He had to look at a photo of your sonogram, rather than sit beside you in the room. You knew he wanted more. You could see it in the way his gaze got distant when you discussed your appointments or the way he’d find a reason to touch you throughout the workday. 

He wanted to be a father, to be a lover, to be a partner, to be more than a cog in the DEA’s wheel. 

  ——

  “Javi, do you think you could drive me to my appointment on Monday?” You questioned as you reclined back on the sofa, watching Javier as he tried to put the baby’s crib together. The pieces were scattered across the floor, with seemingly far too many pieces for one solitary crib. He kept swearing under his breath and glaring at the instructions. 

“Yeah.” Javier glanced up at you. “It should only take about an hour, right?” 

You nodded, “And there’s no reason for you to stay in the car.”

His jaw tensed as he exhaled through his nose. “You want me to go in with you?” 

“I would.” 

“Baby—” 

“I want you to come in with me.” You said firmly, giving him no room to argue with you. “I know how badly you want to see the sonogram.” 

Javier pushed his fingers through his hair, dragging his hand down over the back of his neck as he sat back on his ass. He propped a leg up, resting his elbow against his knee as he stared at you. “I’ve got that print out stuck to my bathroom mirror.” 

You smiled adoringly at him, “Of course you do.” Carefully you sat up, tucking a pillow behind your back. “I was thinking about yesterday,” You started and you caught the way his expression faltered. “I’m aware that this—” You gestured between the two of you, “Has been one sided.” 

He scratched at his jaw and shrugged, though his eyes flickered towards the ground. “You’re the one doing all the work.” Javier’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he kept his gaze low. “I’m not trying to push this.” 

“Javi, I’ve kept you at an arm’s length and it’s okay for you to be pissed about it.” 

“I’m not pissed.” He ground out, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna pretend I sat around thinking about having kids someday.” Javier ran his tongue over his teeth and sighed. “Because I didn’t. But I always thought I’d have one twice as hard to handle as I was for my pops.” He grabbed onto the edge of the coffee table as he pulled himself up off the floor. 

You patted the sofa beside you, your other hand resting against the curve of your stomach. You kept your eyes fixed to his face, brows furrowed together as you studied his expression. “It’ll get easier once she’s born.” You promised and you hoped that was true. 

“Will it?” He sighed as he sank down onto the sofa beside you, propping one foot up on the coffee table in front of him. 

“I want you here.” You reached out and took his hand into yours. “Despite the fact that you hog the covers, I’ve gotten used to you sleeping in my bed.” 

Javier huffed a short laugh. “I have too.” 

“I wish it could be different,” You said quietly. “I know you want more.” 

“I don’t want more.” Javier flexed his jaw. “I just want something. Anything.” 

You lifted his hand to your lips, kissing each knuckle. “I know.” You whispered as he leaned close and brushed his lips against your temple. “That’s why I want you there on Monday. It’s my last sonogram before we get into the homestretch. You belong there with me.” 

Javier’s shoulders relaxed, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me, it’s just the truth.” You reached out to cup his cheek, drawing him close so you could kiss him. “I know at work this baby’s just mine, but it’s yours too.” 

“It’s ours.” Javi corrected you. “She’s all ours.” 

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Finally (Aldo Raine x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @redroseedits

*Trigger warning: PTSD/nightmares briefly *** Reader is like a mother figure to the younger basterds, if this makes you uncomfortable please don't read!!!

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @marlenemarauders @what-the--curtains @taikawho

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

_________ The year was 1944. It was only November, but the worst of winter was beginning to show its fangs. You were marching through the snow in a forest, somewhere in France that you were convinced hadn't been touched since the last war. Well...almost untouched. Familiar markings and scorches on the trees supported your theory. You looked up at the blindingly grey sky as snow began to fall. "Move."  You ordered quietly, picking up the pace, and your three companions followed suit. You walked alongside three young basterds. The youngest,  in fact. You looked around you, wondering just how in hell you got there. You were a simple school teacher, not too long ago, back in 1939... Frankly, when the basterds heard that, they wondered how you got there, too. The answer is simple.

You were a teacher, but you knew far more than you'd let on. You were practically a strategic genius, you were formidable in a few useful languages, and you had one hell of a character. You were shortly contacted by the MI6, and sent abroad. Years passed and the yanks finally made their debut. One thing led to another, and you ended up being acknowledged as a basterd by the MI6, by the OSS, and most importantly, by the basterds themselves. This was an extremely important mission, and your lieutenant had trusted you to lead it. Donny, Wicki, and Hugo outranked you (by a technicality) but, you were one hell of a strategist. And being British, you'd been in the war long before the basterds had. You knew quite a bit. So when the basterds were forced to split up into separate missions, Aldo trusted you with the ones that needed most trusting: Omar, Smitty, and Hirschberg. You stopped in your tracks, and the boys followed suit. "Well, we're here." You sighed, catching your icy breath, hands at your hips, as you stood in a particularly spacious part of the woods. "Where?" Hirschberg looked around, eyeing every tree suspiciously. You could hear Smitty's teeth chattering, and you glanced at him with a sigh. You told him to steal that coat when he had a chance, but noooo. You tossed yours at him. "What? Y/n, no." "It won't be long." You crouched down, and started brushing snow to the side. Omar looked around at the others with a raised and confused eyebrow. He then crouched by you, "Uh...Y/n? Did ya lose something?" Hirschberg muttered as he crossed his arms, clenching his teeth so you wouldn't know he was absolutely freezing.... (you knew) "Yeah, Y/n's mind." "Very amusing, Gerold." You scoffed, though you did smirk a little. "It might h-help if we knew w-what w-we're l-looking for..." Smitty chattered on, pale as a sheet of paper, though you shook your head.  "Just a minute, lads..." Just as Hirschberg began to grumble, they all heard a loud, hollow thump. "There it is!" You beamed as you hurriedly brushed aside more snow, soon revealing a hidden door. You soon found the iron handle, and pulled it open with all your strength, revealing what was practically an underground cabin. "Come on, boys." You took a lighter from your coat, and lit a lamp that was at the entrance, and made your way down the steps, into the cabin. They soon followed, and shut the latch. It was one room, roughly fifteen by fifteen feet, dimly lit by this single lamp. "Blankets in the corner there, and enough food and water in that chest there to last us about three weeks, though we won't be needing it all, and-" "Weeks?" You nodded, "Well, it should pass in a week." "What'll pass?" You sighed, as you slumped down in the corner, taking the near frozen boots off your numb, sore feet. Of course! You were so forgetful of what you did and didn't tell them. You'd read it in the paper in the last town you passed, and...forgot they didn't read French... "Blizzard's passin' through here, boys. Can't have you lot runnin' around the woods like madmen. Wouldn't make it, and we don't have any reliable contacts past this point. We'd have to turn back....and...we've collected far too many scalps for Aldo to do that any time soon. This is our safest bet." Omar nodded, "Huh...Aldo made a damn good call." "Oh I don't know, I'm sure Donny, or Wicki could have found some place safe." Smitty shook his head, laughing a little. You turned and saw a blanket already draped over his hair. Loose snowflakes beginning to melt away in his hair, though his nose stayed a little red. "Donny? He's from Boston, he'd swear this was just a dusting, and push us through." You chuckled, politely lying "Oh I'm sure he wouldn't..." (he definitely would) "You set this up?" Hirschberg asked, as he began to rummage through the supplies, grinning as he spotted a chocolate bar at the bottom of the treasure chest. "Back in '39, when you three were in diapers." "H-" Smitty's indignance was interrupted by a soft sneeze. He looked at you again, "Hey!" "Bless you," you chuckled, "Fine. What? You were in secondary school at most." Hirschberg asked, "Secondary school?" Omar nodded, as he set down his water, "Tommies call high school secondary school." Hirschberg chuckled, "Huh...I was in high school then. Freshman or sophomore, can't remember." "Right, well while you three were kissing cheerleaders, I built this." Omar laughed, "You think Smitty was hanging around with the cheerleaders?" Smitty turned red....or....maybe it was still just the cold... You sighed, "Oh don't be so cruel. He's a sweet boy." He smiled, and if he was red this time, it was because of what you said. "Anyway, I didn't spend as much time here as I would have liked. I was sent off to Austria, then Bucharest and Budapest, and back again," You sighed remembering the exhaustion, "Then back to Munich, wandered around Frankfurt, then back to France for quite some time. Stayed longer than I thought, now that I have a team." You smiled a little, though you looked around, inspecting the details of the hideout, finding them all intact, you remarked, "Didn't think it would hold up so long, but, it looks like no ones found it since." You sighed, and found a blanket for yourself, sitting in a corner. In that week or so that you'd spend there, you'd learn so much about those three young basterds... You were all silent for a while, till you noticed something about Omar. Well, to be fair, you'd noticed it just around the time you met the basterds, though you never quite had the chance to inquire about it. He was fidgeting around with his hands, his fingers interlacing over and over, restlessly. You'd seen that before. Once, when you were a teacher, you had a student. Maybe not the best in math, but the things he could create with a  pen were enough to amaze anyone with so much as a second to spare. "Are you cold, Omar?" He noticed you looking at his hands. He seemed a little embarrassed, "No, no..." He shook his head with a slightly distant, almost nostalgic smile, "I just got nothin' else to do." You nodded. Once your student had nothing to do, he'd fidget just like that till he had  a pen, pencil, even a crayon in his hand. You got up, and rummaged around in a bin you'd hidden away. You brought out a  stack of papers and a few good pens. Not too long ago, that had been your stash for passing on messages to the MI6 and resistances. "Help yourself, love." You smiled kindly, and his heart almost leapt as he smiled a smile you hadn't seen in a long tie. "Thank you!" "Don't mention it." You sat back in your corner. It wasn't long before you noticed Smitty and Hirschberg cheekily smirking and glancing at each other. "Oh, for fuck's sake." You rolled your eyes, and sighed "What is it?" "So what's goin' on between you and Aldo?" Hirschberg smirked a little as he fiddled with his pocketknife, though he looked up at you with a smirk. You shook your head, and sputtered, though you struggled to find an answer. "Oh..I...Don't...nothing! Nothing at all!" You crossed your arms, but Smitty smirked, "Really? He seemed real nice right before we left." "He asked a favor of me! That was all... Just being polite..." "Yeah what favor?" Hirschberg smirked and you rolled your eyes. "Babysit you lot, that's what." Smitty chuckled, "We saw how you said goodbye." "Did you have your glasses on?" You smirked a little and he shook his head, "No..." "Then you didn't see much, did you?" "Oh! Come on!" Smitty crossed his arms, and you laughed a little, "Go on, it's late. Off to bed!" "It's not like we're going anywhere any time soon!" Hirschberg huffed as he pouted a little. "Oh what is this? Sleepover girl talk? Off you go." Smitty muttered, "It's kind of like a sleepover." You chuckled though you threw your blanket over your face, hiding your amusement, and the sly smile revealing the truth about you and Aldo. Still, it wasn't long before Omar dimmed the light. You were sure he'd go through that stack of paper before morning. The chattering died away little by little, and you closed your eyes. Still, your heart was heavy as you thought about your three charges. Yes, you were 99.9% sure you would get them safe and sound back to Aldo, as you'd promised...but you wondered about the faces you'd left behind. All those kids, with wonder in their little faces, bright and curious eyes, timid smiles, and rebellious laughs. Your heart shattered, knowing they must be terrified at that moment, some far from home and hidden in the country side, some probably hungry, others cold. You always wanted to travel, but not when the world was in ruins... Not like this. Now you were here, with these soldier boys who were just that...hardly more than boys. They may be basterds, but you swore you could see the same fear in their eyes...

"Y/n?" You were almost startled, but you turned over, "Yeah, Omar?" The light was dim, and sure enough a stack of papers of mile high was sitting by the basterd. "What are you gonna do after the war?" "What do you mean? About me and Aldo?" "So there is something between you and Aldo." He grinned, and you confounded yourself, eventually sighing in defeat, "Maybe..." "I won't say anything." He promised with a quiet smile, and you smiled gratefully. "I mean...after everything. I mean, are you going back to MI6, or England at all? Are you and Aldo going to..." You sat up, resting your back and head against the wall, you shrugged, "Who's to say..."  You wondered after all you'd seen why you should make plans, considering the odds of you coming home were particularly low.

Then again, you'd thought about it, just as any other soldier had. "I suppose after it's all said and done, I've had my fair share of adventure." You smiled a little, "More than enough, I reckon." You looked at the basterd whose only other life experience was high school...and that barely counted. "I suppose an office job in intelligence could suffice. The pay is good...but..." You shook your head, "I'd love to be back in a classroom. All those bright eyes looking straight into the future I could only hope to see. That's where I'd love to be. In England, or...anywhere,"  you glanced away as you added that, not too sure what would really happen with you and Aldo after all this. You'd wondered about it with him before, but never really got an answer. "You're not scared?" "Scared? Well...I'm scared over many things, as any soldier is." He shook his head, "Scared of going home, I mean..." "Well, I'm sure adjusting is no easy task after all we've seen. But-" "No...I mean..." You looked at him, not quite sure what he was getting at. He sighed, and let go of the pen you'd given him. "If I go, my parents are going to make me go to college." "And you don't want that?" You knew it wasn't for everyone, but you wondered why he seemed so upset by it. "My parents want me to be a doctor, like my brother. And my dad....and his dad....and his...and I just..." He sighed, "I love being a basterd. You know I do." "Oh, I know," you smiled kindly, and he went on, "But once I get home, I'd rather not see blood if I don't have to." His voice grew soft, and you saw a pained glimmer in his eyes, "I don't want any more lives depending on me." Your heart broke in that moment. Just before you joined the team, Aldo let Omar, Michael, Andy, and Simon on a mission on their own, and Omar was the only one to make it back. "Hell, I didn't even like the idea then. I quit high school, Y/n. I enlisted, even though I was too young and I got away with it..." You knew, you'd done the math. "I guess I'm more afraid of not being what they want me to be than I am of...this," He gestured to everything around him. You nodded, as you moved to sit by him. "I'm sure they'll be proud of you, and all you've done here." "Wars don't last forever, Y/n." "I hope not," You chuckled, but he didn't. You were quiet for a moment, then rested your hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure they'll come around, no matter what you choose to do." "They'd never want me to be an artist." You reached for one of the loose pages lying around, and saw a beautiful sketch of the basterds. "I would." He smiled at you as if he'd never smiled before, and a tear streamed down his cheek. He hugged you, and...Omar was a hugger. "Thanks Y/n." "Off to bed, now. Don't worry about those things now, boy." You weren't sure how much time had gone, but the winds were starting to pick up outside. The blizzard was only beginning. You spent the next day playing card games, and charades and jokes. Once you were all tired out, you sent them off to sleep. You were just beginning to fall asleep, when you heard something so soft you almost confused it with the wind, or the dreamlike voices of sirens calling you to sleep. "Y/n!" "Fuck's sake!" You whispered in annoyance, "What is it, Utivich?" "I've been thinkin'..." "About?" Usually he was a bit of a sarcastic little shit. Lovable, but a bit cynical. Still, he had this sparkle in his eyes and a hopeful smile. That's not what you heard in his whisper. He sounded worried, maybe a little distressed. "Well...I have a friend...and I...I mean he...has this-" "Oh for fuck's sake Smitty." You rubbed your eyes, then sat up. "Fine. I have been thinking about it a lot...Since Aldo said...you know..." "Since he said it won't be long now..." You nodded, recalling that comment. You thought you were the only one that paid any mind...then again, it was awfully naive of you to think that. If a soldier heard his lieutenant saying it wouldn't be long before the end of the war, that soldier wouldn't forget it. "There's this girl, ok?" "Right." "And...we were....a thing." "Ok." "And well... I don't know if I want to marry her." "Did you ask her to marry you?" "Well no, but...She's been waiting for me to ask that." "You left home when you were 17, Smitty. You're what, like nineteen now?" "Yeah..." "Well no one'd blame you." "But everyone else is talking about marrying, or at least asking someone to marry them and-" You sighed, "Smitty, do you love this girl?" "Yes." "Good. Then remember this, and listen closely. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you're ready to marry them." "But...everyone else's talking about getting married, or at least thinking about it!" He pouted a little, crossing his arms in exasperation. "Well..." You sighed, "You're young. No doubt, you've changed a little since you've last seen this girl. And...I'm sure she's changed too. Wars tend to have that effect, you know." He nodded, "She took a job in a munition factory before I left... Never thought she'd do something like that. I always saw her as like, I don't know, a doctor, or an engineer. Something big. But she took that job and said it was to help me." "See, even a little change like that... Now, maybe she's not ready to marry. After all, eighteen, nineteen is a bit young." He smiled a little, and you chuckled, "I'm sure you can hold off on it for a year or two, and she'd understand, right?" "Right."

"Right. Good." You crossed your arms, and you sighed, "Now, when you go home, you take that girl out to a dance, a park, go to the pictures because you'll have all the time in the world then. But don't you go running off to the courthouse because all those Donny's and Ald...I mean....Wicki's in the world are. You're young, you hardly know anything other than algebra and being a basterd. Grow up a little, get your feet back on the ground, find a job you like, and if you're ready, marry her." Smitty chuckled, and you shrugged, "And if fate has it that you're not ready, or she's not, or things have just changed too much, well, I'm sure there's a fair amount of girls that'd love a cheeky little basterd like you." He murmured with a soft smile, "I wish I had a mom like you..." Smitty almost stopped breathing, not intending to say that out loud. He looked at you with wide eyes, horrified at himself, "Sorry, I just, I-" His mother had passed away when he was young. He once (half drunkenly) commented that he was starting to forget her and didn't want to. "Wh...Oh, come here." You hugged him, and that was the closest Smitty had ever been to crying while at war. "And I shall like an invitation to that wedding." You smiled kindly as you let go. "Only if I get one to yours." He teased you, knowing all about you and Aldo. "Oh, hush now. Go on, a sleepless basterd's a useless basterd." "Uh huh, sure thing." He rolled his eyes with a sly grin as he headed to his corner. A night or two passed, and though you'd been convinced that the blizzard would let up soon, it didn't. The wind had picked up, howling like a pack of hungry wolves in the middle of the night. You woke up, though you were a heavy sleeper. You recognized Omar's snore, and...if Smitty was asleep he was dead to the world. You'd noticed throughout those days that when the wind got too loud, Hirschberg seemed more alert than usual. Before he was a basterd, he was just some kid stationed somewhere in Italy. One night, bombers flew overhead. Hirschberg was one of the few who stepped up, and rescued countless men, in spite of his age and lack of experience. One of those men was Aldo Raine, who was still a warrant officer then. Hirschberg wasn't the same after that night. He was soft-spoken, quite polite before then. But that night, he shouted down orders, pushed people around to save them. That night he became the basterd everyone knew now. Months later, he was the first basterd recruited by Lieutenant Aldo Raine. But since then,  when he heard planes in the distance, he seemed as alert as he did now. Any loud, rumbling sound put him on edge. "oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit." You heard him begin to mumble in his sleep, sounding distressed as he began to thrash around. It wasn't the first time. You learned from Aldo that Hirschberg saw and heard the planes before him, and got up mumbling "oh shit" over and over, before anyone noticed. "Gerold! Gerold, it's only the wind!" You rushed to his side, just as he woke up in a cold sweat. He shot up, looking around as if he could see the planes.

Hirschberg generally tended to be distant when it came to you. He always had a guard up in general. All that seemed to fade away now. Seeing you by the warm dim light was a stark contrast to what he'd seen in his darkest night mare.   "It's only the wind, love, just the wind!" He focused back on you, nodding slowly, catching his breath.

Suddenly that shield that he kept between him and the world seemed to collapse. His eyes softened, he wrapped his arms around you, and buried his face into your shoulder. You said nothing. Frankly, you didn't know what to say. You'd never seen him actually wake up from one of the nightmares. And you certainly weren't the one he talked to when things went rough. But there he was.

You were quiet for a while, then Omar suddenly piped up. "Y/n?" You muttered under your breath, "Oh for the love of..." You saw Utivich peeking through his blanket, and Omar starting to sit up. "What is it?" Smitty and Omar looked at each other, then nodded, as if silently agreeing on something. "Will you tell us a story?" "Fuck's sake, I'm English, not Mary bloody Poppins." "Please." You turned, and saw Hirschberg, with a slight, weary smile, and tired eyes. You sighed, and saw the eagerness in their sleepy eyes. You were a damn good spy before you were a basterd, and they loved hearing about it. "Alright." You sighed,  though you smiled a little as you recounted, "So there I was. Standin' in the alps there, and I seen a convoy and thought, 'right...they're not supposed to be here any more than I am.' So I go down the bloody steeps, and what do I find?" "Nazis?" "Soviets? Oh! Rebels?" Hirschberg rolled his eyes, "Let Y/n tell the story, damn it." You chuckled, "Thank you, Gerold." You looked around, and went on with the story, "I see, what any spy would've been thrilled to see-" One by one, they all started to drift back off to sleep.

You didn't sleep until you were sure he was. The winds had died back down by then, hardly a whisper in the night. These were the basterds. They had their entire lives ahead of them, the world at their feet, and their heads in the clouds. If it were up to you, you'd never let anyone young as them anywhere near the war... But war went where it pleased, seeping into sleeping villages, busting into busy streets in summer nights, across oceans, and beyond the boundaries of humanity. You couldn't stop these things, but you'd do everything you could to make sure those basterds made it home. Even if it killed you. **** "Goddamn Kraut almost killed you!" Aldo was furious, and had already chewed out Smitty, Omar, and Hirschberg over it. "But, he didn't." You chuckled, handing over a scalp with your right hand, while your left arm bled profusely. He sighed, tossing the scalp aside, and taking your wounded arm in his hands. "You mustn't be so hard on them, darling." He sighed a little, and shook his head, "You're too damn nice, Y/n." He started to pour alcohol over the gunshot wound, trying to disinfect it. "They're boys, Aldo. I don't know why they're all the way out here. They're not even twenty years old. They can't even vote in your country, and here they are almost dying for it." "Damn good basterds." "I didn't say they weren't. I said they were boys." "You were trying to protect them, Y/n. This is war." "And what if I was? They've got mothers, fathers, weddings  waiting for them. I haven't." "I was waiting." His voice was softer than you'd ever heard before. You looked up at him, and he shook his head. After a few moments, he was grinning a little, and remarked "Weddings, huh?" "Fucking hell." You gritted your teeth and shut your eyes as he pulled the bullet out. "Yeah, weddings." "Smitty been worrying about that girl, Abigail, again?" He wrapped gauze around your arm, and sat by you with a soft sigh. "I think I've finally set the record straight." He offered you a bottle, and as you took a sip, he chuckled, "You got a soft spot for em. Good heart." "Not always," you winked, and his arms wrapped around you carefully, trying not to hurt your arm. You rested your head in his chest, "What are you thinking, leftenant?" He smiled a little, remembering the day he learned (the hard way) that was the way some brits pronounced lieutenant. He shook his head, looking off into the distance, and hummed something. "Come off it, what's the matter?" He sighed, glancing at you. He couldn't lie to you. "If something happens...." "Something as in Donny hiding Hugo's knives and it goes too far....again....or something as in-" "I lost Andy, Simon, and Michael before you were here." "You had no control over that." Aldo shook his head, "You don't understand. You weren't there." "I'm here now." "If I lose em boys too..." "You won't." You seemed so certain about it, it struck him. "Y/n." "We won't." You promised him as you rested your hand over his. "I don't want you to get too...to love em so much... Cause if somethin' happens it'll hurt to have to say goodbye." "Nothing's going to happen. And, once this bloody war ends, we'll have to say goodbye anyway. Besides....you love me." "That's different." "Is it?" You mused with a sigh, and he chuckled, "Well, for one thing...if we talked about a wedding, everyone would say 'finally'. " "You don't like to talk about those things anyway." You shifted a little. You'd both been serious...as serious as a relationship could be in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a group of basterds, in the middle of a war. Once you so much as mentioned anything about 'after the war,' he seemed to change the subject. "I love you." "Hadn't noticed," you smirked a little, though he finally meant to say something. "I want to, Y/n...But if something happens to me, then what?" "Then Birmingham's waiting for me." "I don't want to promise to marry you...and then leave you widowed before we're even wed." You smiled a little, "I'd have to say yes first, wouldn't I?" A moment of hope knocked Aldo down for a moment, "Would you?" "Wouldn't you like to know." You smirked a little, though you knew the answer to it already. He drew a breath, shook his head, and hesitated for a moment, "War's a goddamn heartbreaker, Y/n." "And that's a shame, Aldo, really. But we don't get to choose which hearts it breaks. Not always anyway. We don't get to know how it ends. Who makes it in the end. But whoever does live gets to live according to their whims. Now, I suggest you get used to idea of getting back to your Smoky bloody Mountains, hunting or bootlegging or what have you, and I..." You looked at him, wondering what you would do if you made it. "I guess what I want to say is, you oughta make up your mind." "So you're givin' me an ultimatum, that it?" He smirked a little, thinking you loved him too much for that kind of thing. "Let me finish." You'd love to teach again... You'd seen your fair share of the world, and lived all the adventure to last you a lifetime and then some... "Y/n." But those stupid blue eyes, that scar, and that smirk had you second guessing your own ultimatum. He was about to play your game....but with his own rules. In fact... No rules. "Hold on," "Y/n." "What?!" He chuckled a little, but he meant each and every one of the following words: "Will you marry me?" "W-what?" Your voice grew softer. "Will you...marry me?" He got on one knee, though he didn't have a ring (yet). He had his heart to give, and that was all you really wanted. Before you could even answer, you heard "FINALLY!" You laughed, though Aldo grumbled. The sudden, though not unexpected, interruption was followed by a loud thrash and then a panicked, "FUCK A DUCK. DID I MISS IT?" ...followed by some hushing. Maybe it wasn't ideal...but it was all you ever wanted. "Yes." Aldo slowly got up, taking your hands in his. You looked into his eyes, both of you smiling, unable to believe he'd finally gotten around to it. As the basterds cheered and circled around, Aldo felt reassured for the first time in years. Somehow, the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew it would be alright. Everything would be alright. There would be no more lost basterds. No more planes overheard. No more bootlegging in Maynardville, Tennessee....at least, not as much. In that moment, somehow, you both seemed to understand things wouldn't be the same. Maynardville and Birmingham wouldn't be the same. Not after the war. But, so long as you were together, it didn't matter to either of you.

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

In which I chronicle my Legacy of Kain journey and bridge it with your boy Adam Warlock! (Part 5 of many, and MASSIVE, I MEAN, HUMOUNGOUS SPOILERS for Soul Reaver 2 and the 1970’s Warlock)

Awwwwwwwww yeah we are going there, these compositions are most definitely on purpose.

This is where I realize that my true purpose in this world is to draw and talk about obscure or forgotten works of fiction, and I embrace this destiny. 

Ladies and gents, laughing times are over (not really though), sh*t gets very real again.

I guess it’s a bit late for this but if you have even the slightest interest in checking any of these properties out, do yourself a favor and go experience them first hand. If you just want to see me lose my mind and don’t really care about spoilers then please, proceed.

You know, when I started this little crossover of sorts, I was just having a laugh you know? It was just a cute little thing, I’ll write this one post and maybe I’ll get enough material for a second one and that’s it. THIS IS THE SEVENTH POST (even though it says Part 5). 

Never, and I do mean never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here one day, talking about having your past and your time-travelling-future selves meet and clash, of seeing your sanctimonious attitude and overall the worst about yourself personified and given free reign to go on bloodthirsty crusades showing off how much of a hypocrite you’ve bee- but wait, I am getting a bit ahead of myself. 

I’ll get there I promise, let’s go back a bit.

Where we last left off, we managed to travel back to an even more distant past than we’ve been before. To the time of the great Vampire Purge, so that Raziel can meet this infamous ancient vampire who knows all the lore and might have the answers we seek on what exactly is causing the corruption of our world.

As we step out into this era of History we notice the fields covered with the Sarafan Order banners, and the impaled corpses and chopped-off heads of vampires. No different no doubt from the kindness vampires showed mankind later when they gained the upper hand during Kain’s 1.000 year old reign. Raziel seems a bit distraught by the sight since he assumed the Sarafan to be virtuous and heroic:

“For all the butchery of Moebius’s crusade, this massacre was somehow more chilling. The killing fields of the Sarafan betrayed a kind of orderly ruthlessness, the cold-blooded righteousness of the true believer.”

“Here at last in the flesh, I beheld my former brothers-in-arms, the warrior-priests of the Sarafan order; their lives devoted solely to the annihilation of the vampire plague. And while I confess I felt a twinge of longing, a pang of grief for what I had believed was my lost virtue, I regarded them now with none of the reverence I formally felt. For I had seen the human face of the vampires, and now I beheld the monstrousness of these men.”

While on the topic of genocidal holy wars, my boy Adam here had a bit of a run with a similar pious little group that goes by the name of Universal Church of Truth, who were going about doing a bit of cleaning throughout the galaxy:

Things don’t go so well:

Interestingly enough, I’ve learned of a deleted cutscene for Soul Reaver 2 that plays out very similarly to Adam’s first encounter with this “holy” order. There was this minor female vampire character that was being hunted down and would be executed by vampire hunters right in front of Raziel.

This scene was probably removed because they knew that almost 20 years later there would be some asshole on the internet trying to compare their games to obscure marvel comics of the 70’s.

But yeah bummer for Adam here, we’re a couple of pages in and he’s already failed to save someone. However, through the power of the Soul Gem, he’s able to retain her soul for a brief moment, letting us know more about these holy inquisitors:

Some of these methods don’t seem that far off from the Sarafan, especially on the twisting of good intentions part, but on a galactic scale:

Aye, a great bunch o’ fellas all around, if you submit and “fit in”:

Damn.

Hush Adam, I’ll get back to your predicament give me a moment. I just want the good people at home to keep both this church and the Magus, the god they worship in mind for later.

Now, back to the game. In the Sarafan Stronghold during the first hour of gameplay, Raziel made comments on the vampire he’s currently seeking while looking at some stained glass depictions:

“So this was the legendary Janos Audron - reputed to have been the most ancient and diabolical vampire to have ever existed. According to folklore, he lived high in the cliffs of Nosgoth’s northern mountains, and preyed mercilessly on the defenseless villagers below. His reign of terror ended when the Sarafan finally hunted him down and tore his throbbing heart from his still-living body. (…) But I wondered - could Janos Audron truly have been as monstrous as depicted here? Or was this merely artistic licence by the Sarafan, who sought to lionize themselves by demonizing their darkest enemy?

Keep these stained glass images in mind, they’ll also be important shortly. Neetheless to say, the hype was very real to meet this Janos Audron.

And as I kept hearing about this gentleman, I thought: “I really love this cast of pricks, where everyone speaks in half truths and is hiding something and has some hidden agenda, but you know, I kind of wish there was some slim ray of hope, of goodness and honor, just some good old plain chivalry and honesty. Maybe this Janos lad won’t be as bad as he was depicted back in the Sarafan Stronghold.” 

It took us a while but we’re finally make it to his retreat.

I really love the entire segment, the hopelessness and feeling of dread while making your way through this place, probably my favourite puzzle area of the game.  I also really love the music and architecture here.

When we do make it to the top, BOY OH BOY were my prayers answered!

Lo and behold, enter Raziel’s new daddy/mentor figure, my man JANOS AUDRON! Proabably the one decent and kind creature I’ve seen yet in these games (if you don’t count helpless human npcs who are just trying to live their lives but are caught in all these wars, slaughter and destruction).

FINALLY an understanding, moderate, compassionate man in the midst of all the lies and deception. I love him! Oh and he has what seems to be a Romanian accent. Maybe a nod to the granddaddy of all vampires: Dracula? I think his design is cool as well, so that helps.

Before we go into huge lore dumps and while on the topic of having a brief father/mentor figure for your protagonist when he’s utterly lost, alone and confused, I thought I’d bridge it with Adam’s own once foster parent, the High Evolutionary:

From the few minutes you get to know these dads they’re very different characters with different backstories and motivations. Janos is this sad lonely old man, the last of the ancient vampires and one who has been keeping himself alive solely for his sense of duty. 

While the High Evolutionary was once a man called Herbert Wyndham who performed an experiment that evolved him into a godlike being. This experience proved to be such an assault on his senses and perceptions that he chose to encase himself in this armour. Like the name suggests he is obsessed with genetic manipulation and tampering of various kinds, it is his life’s ambition. 

Despite his somewhat villainous appearance, he’s never portrayed as such from what little I’ve read, he’s just…a bit creepy. Like, he takes Adam in and is super stoked about adopting him, but he also values him not so much as a person per se as you and me would, but more as one would value an impressivly carved piece of work:

I don’t know, maybe it’s his metal face that doesn’t emote much; his sometimes questionable morality; maybe it’s the fact that Adam was 5 years old at this point, a baby boy, and this pink armoured deity is super hyped about him; there’s something a bit unsettling about this guy. Have some more dubious quotes I’ve stumbled upon:

All in all, I think he did care about him, in his own strange way:

Anyway, what’s important is that these adoptive dads serve a somewhat similar purpose, and that is to push/urge our ”“”“"heroes”“”“” (I say with many quotation marks) into a more benevolant role: to guide them in their messianic mission and save a corrupted world. Basically there to provide a chance for them to be good boys. Up until now their track record leaves much to be desired, and they’ve been quite lost on what they’re supposed to be and do.

Raziel:

“So it’s all true, then - what Kain and Vorador have told me - I really am some kind of unholy vampire messiah…”

Janos:

“Unholy? -no. Messiah… perhaps.”

Raziel:

“I don’t like that word - it smells of martyrdom.”

Janos:

“Raziel, your role in this world’s destiny is more crucial - and more benevolent - than you’ve allowed yourself to believe. Your journey will not be easy - dark powers are allied against you.”

Oh and both dads give their sons their toys (Soul Reaver and Soul Gem):

Back to the meeting with Janos, we finally learn tons of things, both new and others that have been hinted at throughout, namely:

Janos has been living a life of a recluse, alone, on top of the Aerie;

Janos knows of Raziel (some old legend I think) and has been waiting for him to hand him over the Soul Reaver, saying it is the key to save Nosgoth;

The Pillars of Nosgoth were erected by the ancient vampires and they were the rightful guardians. Janos was called to be th 10th guardian, the Keeper of the Reaver;

Over time this ancient race started to die out, with their history slowly being forgotten;

Humanity prospered and since the Pillars choose their guardians from birth and vampires were no longer born, humans were called to be their guardians but were “wholly ignorant of their true purpose.”

The Circle of human guardians is led to believe (by whom we do not yet know) that vampires are a cancer in the world. Janos warns that “with their vampire purge, the members of the Circle have assaulted the very architects of the Pillars they are sworn to protect (…) With every vampire they kill, the humans are slitting their own throats.”

Janos being a cool level-headed guy here when Raziel says he must hate mankind for all the suffering they’ve brought to him:

“They fear what they don’t understand; and they despise what they fear. But no - I do not hate them.”

I find it funny how Raziel asks if humanity should be forgiven for trying to exterminate the vampire kind and doesn’t realize that: one, he himself was exterminating vampires just a couple of moments ago back in SR1; and two, how he is just like how Janos describes humanity to be:

“They don’t understand what they’re doing. They are simply unenlightened… and vulnerable to manipulation.”

Again, this last line, completely unlike a certain blue shambling corpse I know. Not like him AT ALL.

Then, as they head inside, we learn something odd as Janos presents Raziel with the Reaver. You see, the two times Raziel has been close to the Soul Reaver still in its physical form, reality started to bend and distort (I show it off in this previous post). 

When we met Kain and decided not to kill him, he explained that when: “two incarnations of the blade meet in time and space, a paradox is  created, a temporal distortion powerful enough to derail history”

This distortion, or sense of displacement however, is nowhere to be found now when Janos presents the blade to him. Raziel feels nothing and says that “this nothingness is somehow worse…” and to get it away from him.

We learn the Reaver was forged by the same ancient vampire race that erected the Pillars (which we’ve seen hinted at when we explored the land and came accross all sorts of old murals).

But now THIS is when the game first impales me through the heart.

Me and Janos are interrupted by the Sarafan warriors who arrive carrying Moebius’ Staff (which disables vampires to the point of being barely able to move at all).

And of course! OF COURSE! Of course the moment my boy Raziel finds a truly positive influence in his life to guide and enlinghten him, and that was willing to put himself in danger in order to save him… he is axed! HEART RIPPED FROM HIS CHEST!

And by whom you ask? Who would do such a deed and kill my last ray of hope?

WHY, ME! 

TWICE!

“Me” because I was the one to open an entrance to Janos’ up until then impenetrable retreat, and literally me: human Raziel of the Sarafan that lived during this time period and was head inquisitor!

A bit different from what was depicted back at the Sarafan Stronghold, we found several centuries later (putting the same image here again so you don’t have to scroll up to compare, am I swell or what?):

The Sarafan escape with Janos’ heart and the Reaver, while wraith Raziel has a final moment with Janos. 

This part destroys me:

Raziel:

“Forgive me; I’m sorry… I failed you.”

Janos: (gently)

“No, Raziel. Perhaps this was my true purpose - simply to save your life this once.”

Raziel: (distraught)

“While I have taken yours…”

That last bit is probably my favourite line-read in the entire series so far (which is the most impossible thing to choose since there are so many great ones). But I think it’s the overwhelming sadness in Raziel’s voice that makes it memorable, you’ve never seen him feel like this for another creature.

Breaks my stone hardened heart every time I listen to it. And here’s why I think it’s an effective emotional scene, even though we only get a few minutes with Janos before he is murdered - it is because of contrast. Up until now everyone you meet is some degree of a bad or manipulative person, and you don’t really have a true friend or someone to confide in, there’s no one that really brings out the best in Raziel and it sucks because there is potential there.  So when you introduce the apparently only decent and noble person in this god forsaken land and you’re so used to by now suspect and mistrust everyone, it is impactful because he was truth and honesty in a sea of deception and moral relativism. He was my light in the midst of the fog and the one who saw good in me. And right when you’re finally relaxing and getting confortable the game pulls the rug from under you.

Now, while on the topic of having your past and future meet, there was a little something about the meeting between Adam and the Universal Church of Truth that I’ve been saving up until now. If you remember, Adam was interrogating the young woman who was killed by the inquisitors about the church and the god they worship. When suddenly:

Good news is, Adam must’ve taken a left turn somewhere and ended up on the set for “Monty Python’s Life of Brian”, where he learned some latin:

This helped him quickly figure out the Magus’ identity:

Learn your dead tongues kids, you never know when it might come in handy when meeting your time travelling, thousands of years old future-self:

So as you can se, we have a similar self-discovery journey going on but reversed in a way. In Raziel’s case you play as his future self, who time travels back in time, meets his past self and sees what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. In Adam’s case you follow his present self, who meets the Magus (his future self), who has travelled back in time 5.000 years, in which time he has built his empire. Meeting and confronting said empire/future self, leads Adam to see what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. You see, both Adam and Raziel have always been their own worst enemy (their own shortcomings and character flaws). So it would be only natural that we get embodiments of the worst in them: Raziel, the human Sarafan Warrior and the Magus, their past and future selves respectively.

Oof, this was a long one, and I’ve reach the character limit. In the next post I’ll elaborate more on their characters and different selves; and we go through the roller-coaster of emotions that is the endgame for both these stories.

Look foward to me losing my mind even further while I go into time travelling, paradox shenanigans… oh, and look foward to happier times with COSMIC SUICIDE! See you in the near future.

[bot-imagines]

What if Jack, Miko, and Raf could fuse with the Autobots?

It comes as a shock to everyone when it’s revealed that humans can actually fuse with Cybertronians. After much deliberation, Ratchet concludes that it has to do with Unicron being the center of the planet and, in a way, responsible for the creation of humanity. Therefore, humans are compatible with Cybertronian physiology in the loosest terms possible.

Team Prime is at a bit of a loss on how to feel. On the one hand, they’ve seen fusion a few times - mostly with Mack - and they’ve gathered that it’s usually a pleasant experience. It’s apparently the sort of thing that you can’t ever really truly describe; you have to experience it to understand it.

On the other hand, there’s a bit of a disposition concerning how well fusion between a technological and organic being would work. It’s not like they have any examples of any kind to go off of for reference. Ratchet advises against it, mostly because they really have no idea what would happen. Optimus hesitantly agrees. There isn’t an all-out ban, per-say, but there is a sort of silent agreement to avoid the subject of fusion concerning them around the children. Smokescreen, Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus are pulled over to the side to have the logistics of it all explained to them.

Miko really wants to try it, mostly because she wants to be a huge, ass-kicking robot, but also because it’s one of the few things about being human she wants to experience firsthand with her friends. 

Jack is curious, but he’s a lot more subtle about it than Miko. He’s only fused with Miko a few times, and one time with both Miko and Rafael, so he doesn’t have a ton of experience. He’s of the mind that if he fuses with one of the bots, he’ll be there to help them through the experience. 

Raf definitely wants to try fusion again, but he also wants to have more research done before anything happens. He’s also most likely to not really say anything unless someone outright asks him. He doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, especially since not a lot of kids his age fuse very often.

The first two to fuse are, oddly enough, Jack and Arcee. They had just gotten back from a mission and had been celebrating. Arcee, still revved up, had offered to go for a ride, and Jack had agreed. Only Arcee took Jack’s hand before she began to transform, and before she had the chance, they were both glowing bright and phasing into each other.

They stayed like that for all of maybe a minute before splitting apart. Arcee is crying, and Jack’s doing his best to console her. The others try to talk to Arcee about it later, but she doesn’t want to discuss it at all.

It’s not until much later that they learn that she wasn’t upset about fusion, but overwhelmed with the feelings that it created in her. It’s the calmest she’s felt since Cliffjumper offlined. It was just so much.

Miko and Bulkhead were next. They were jamming out to Slash Monkey in the base when Miko tripped over her amp cord. Bulkhead caught her just in time, and the next thing they knew, they had fused. It’s a lot for them, and for the other bots. Bulkhead takes to fusion like a champ, and the others are much more intrigued now.

When Rafael and Bumblebee fuse for the first time, it’s during a car chase with a group of Vehicons. Bee had been driving down the highway on the way to their favorite spot to race Raf’s model car when he’d noticed they were being tailed. They’d tried to lose them before pulling off. Bee had tried to get Raf to hide, but Raf had been feeling rather brave, and refused to leave.

He’d taken one of Bee’s digits in his hand and told him they were in this together. 

By the time the Vehicons showed up, the Autobot signal was distorted in a strange way, and the being they found was definitely NOT the Autobot scout.

Optimus is having a heart-to-heart with Jack shortly after the Orion Pax incident when Jack threw his arms around Optimus’ servo in a desperate embrace. No one was there to witness their fusion, but they stayed like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the feeling that fusion allows two people to feel. They haven’t spoken about it to the others - not out of shame, but out of unspoken respect. Their fusion just felt like one of those things that they didn’t need to explain to others.

Ratchet first experience with fusion is the only one that doesn’t come as a surprise to him. It’s also not with any of the children. It’s with June Darby.

Ever since Rafael’s exposure to dark energon, June has been coming to the base to have weekly discussions with Ratchet about human biology and physiology. It’s during one of these visits that Ratchet gather the courage to ask about fusion. He explains how almost all of his teammates have done it already, and apart from his own curiosity, he feels a genuine sense of responsibility for their safety. He wants to understand fusion so he can properly help when he is needed. 

June does her best to explain the logistics of fusion to him, as well as retelling her own personal experiences with fusion. She can tell Ratchet is getting frustrated due to lack of understanding, so she outright offers to fuse with him.

Once he gets past all his blustering and stalling, Ratchet agrees.

Needless to say, he and June become much closer friends afterwards.

All in all, fusion is a very emotional, personal thing for them all. Each relationship they have effects how they feel, appear, and behave. 

But they wouldn’t trade it for the world.

-

(I might do longer drabbles later for the fusions of everyone, but I might just link it to an Ao3 post to save y’all the scrolling.)

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Hey, uh, do you take request for any epilogue stuff or just Henry suffering? Because if the former, well, we never got to see Old Sport apologizing to the lost souls, and since now that's his job... could we get that? Sorry to bother ^^' - (copied by me, original from AO3)

(Every kind of request is welcome! That is something I meant to write anyways, but I’m still really scared of it- it’s something very important, that HAS to sit just right. I doubt I will manage, but hey, at least it’s out of my mind after this one. OH AND I JUST REALIZED YOU’RE RIGHT ABOUT THE “we never saw”- FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE FINALE I knew I forgot SOMETHING, I thought I had it all written down, but I DIDN’T. Urgh, no point in crying over spilled milk I guess, but have my apologies, I know that you especially were looking forward to it ;n; Now I’m lowkey stuck between a rock and a hard place- either I make this into a proper epilogue thing, in which technically shouldn’t be able to apologize- or I go back and make this as a fix-it/rewrite scene from within the action. I think I’ll try to make it an epilogue and bullshit my way into Old Sport being able to apologize. Bear with me)

Forgiveness isn’t something you can work towards as a single person. It wasn’t like they hadn’t known that when they made their way to the first few restaurants, but it still always left a little crack behind in their optimism. Of course, there was nothing they could do about it. Freeing souls was actually a terribly ungrateful job, something that surprised Dave. Sure, Old Sport had warned him beforehand, but still. It stung. Not that Dave wasn’t on some level aware that he’s the one everyone’s anger was targeted at- for good reason, he had created this scenario in the first place- but a selfish part of him despised the kids for not playing along right away. Henry had told him back in the day that he needed to get a grip on his desire for instant satisfaction- and he was right. As much as Dave hated to think about it, he was right. There were things he easily lost patience with. Hell, he had pressured Old Sport far, far more than he should have. A sudden surge of stubbornness settled into his chest. It was FINE, it worked great with Old Sport. He didn’t do anything wrong. He DIDN’T. He’d do it again! … … that wasn’t the right attitude for a man on the road of redemption, but he couldn’t really help it yet. Deep down he hoped the attitude change would come with habit. There was no way he could get around to it on his own. Old Sport was… doing okay, all things considered. Being almost ripped out of your own body, because you resembled your worst enemy more than your former self was pretty- terrifying. So nowadays, he was… quiet. A little car chase always managed to rip him out of his thoughtful moments, returning the grin to the place it rightfully belonged, covering most of the Orange Guy’s face- but it was only moments, minutes, not long enough, not nearly long enough to satisfy him. Or at least calm him. Old Sport knew that too. When he glanced over at his friend- his partner, his lover, all these words that almost seemed to make no sense, they felt like weren’t supposed to be applied to HIM, him the soulless guy shambling from place to place- When he glanced at Dave, he saw the tension radiating off him like a swarm of bees. Even in his smile, it was clear, he wasn’t outright happy, he was- Like a bow, tightly strung, ready to escalate. There was nowhere left where he truly could let out his chaotic desires, as each Freddy’s they walked into was another mission that had to be done perfectly, like clockwork. Cheesy words, little theatrics, the same patterns over and over and over and over and over- It was what had driven Old Sport over the edge the first time. It wouldn’t happen again though. Maybe they should go to Vegas. However, he didn’t really want to let Dave loose anymore. Not now that their actions felt so… intertwined. Whatever Dave did, he felt responsible for, thus he tried to keep him in check. And now… … now he almost felt scared of Dave, from time to time. Now that he was trying to take the lead. It- wasn’t right. No, no. Fear, fear implied HE was the one afraid. This was different. Worry. He was worried for Dave and he worried for the world around him. But that was the price he paid for being moral and wanting things to work out for everyone. It felt a bit dirty, just picking up a morality, not due to experience and inner passion for these things, instead only because morals came as a set. Really, he still wasn’t a whole person. … at least he was working on it. “What’s wrong with ya, Sportsy?” Dave stretched his neck out towards him, drawing a smile out of the Orange Guy. Somehow seeing Dave becoming all- noodly- always brightened his day. “Nothing! Nothing. I was just thinking about the next place… apparently the Freddy’s burned down, but the animatronics are still in the area?” “Is that what the bear told ya?” “Yes. Which means setting up the party and getting them to stumble over it will be more dangerous than usually… we’ll have to lure them there. We miggt have to walk through the town while wearing the suit!” “Sounds like fun!” Slightly Old Sport smiled. This was something Dave still was great at. “… if you say so. You’re the only one who thinks of waltzing around in sweaty suits, while potentially being chased by dog as ‘fun’.” “Yeah, right- I’m just the only one of us who can admit it! That’s ‘cause ya can’t admit to your feelings, Sportsy! It took ya YEARS, DECADES to finally give into your BURNING DESIRE FOR ME-“ “Sh-shut up! Don’t be weird!” His cheeks were reddening as Dave laughed. This was the one way his constantly building up tension melted away. If he didn’t think for a few moments, the world seemed okay. “Welp, either way-“ The Purple Guy continued, pulling the car to the side. “- we’re at the destination. This is the burned down place. Wait- doesn’t burnin’ them usually free ‘em anyways? Ya know. If all stops have to come out?” “True. There are only two souls around, the one inside of Freddy and the one inside of Chica. The rest was freed by the fire.” “So, we’re dealin’ with two REALLY nasty bastard kids?” “You shouldn’t say that. That aside: yes, you’re right on the money.” “Urgh, those are the worst. Can’t we just break them and burn the pieces?” “No.” “I knew you’d say that Old Sport. Yet I’m STILL disappointed.” He sighed, as he parked to the side. Getting suited up as soon as they could, they looked around the forest area, the lights of the town far in the back, but still very much visible. No taking roads, yards were fine, forest first though. “… alright, this will take time.” Old Sport looked over the wrecks. “Good we have plenty of things to set up a little party anyways. Dave?” “Yessir?” “You go out and try to find them while I set up. We can’t really afford wasting too much time, especially if they might be genuinely vengeful.” “Splittin’ up? First mistake in the horror genre, tsk, tsk-“ “Sure, because either of us is at such a risk of ACTUALLY DYING. EVER.” He waved his hand at him. “At least stake the place out. So we know which places are easier to cross while seeking. And how much we roughly have to look over.” “Fiiiiiiine.” Clearly not pleased, but accepting of his role, Dave walked past him- Just to abruptly and grab Old Sport by the mask, pulling him close into a pretend-kiss, which was somehow even more flustering than an actual kiss. “DAVE!” “C’mon, somehow I gotta motivate myself, right?” Happy as can be, he nuzzled his snout against Old Sport’s, before letting go and skipping away. “Be back soon! Don’t cut any cake without me!” When he was gone, Old Sport slowly sighed. “He… won’t hurt anyone.” The suit echoed. ‘He won’t. As long as you won’t.’ Old Sport winced at the familiar voice- it was soft, caring, and so, so sad. “Fredbear-“ ‘The birthday, Old Sport. Birthday first.’ Nodding to himself, defeated, he pulled out the tools from within the car. Candles, banners, lights, plates and hats, a music player… … they were prepared to create a party out of nothing, out of a charred place of dirt, if they had to. Thankfully the walls were at least still mostly preserved. Ashes to ashes. Places like this reminded him of… “… I never apologized, Fredbear.” ‘That is true.’ “They were gone. I knew what Mike did, I just- couldn’t- I couldn’t face the Toys anymore. I didn’t even know their names. Mike knew their names, right?” ‘He did.’ “I can’t ask Mike. I can’t ask him for the names.” The words stumbled out of him. Fredbear tended to join him every time that they were setting up, not in his true form right away, but as a presence within the suit Old Sport had to wear. It was reassuring in some regard- But at the same time, the memories he brought Old Sport were suffocating. ‘You could.’ Old Sport wanted to scream, his busy hands still setting up, regardless of the conversation. “Yes. Yes I could. And I could kill Dave. And I could jump from a high building to try out to fly. And I could adopt twenty cats. And I could hijack a train. And I could- what is there I couldn’t do!? But I don’t want to, because I’m not dumb, I KNOW it’s wrong, I know it’s terrible, I know-“ Shortly he paused to take a breath. “There’s so much I could be, and nothing that I am, but I WANT to be something now. So I can’t.” For a moment it was silent, Fredbear not saying the many things he could have. Yet somehow, it felt as though he could still hear them. Spiteful whispers, stuck in the suit, banished from this place, but remaining as echoes. Nothing ever truly disappeared. He had stained the suit, and the suit had been stained by the one wearing it before him. Blood remained with any object, no matter how well you cleansed it. “… I need to apologize to them.” ‘So you can forget?’ His mind knew that Fredbear would never say something like this with spite, but it still cut him deep. “… so I can… know I did something right.” ‘We never can right our wrongs.’ “Since when did you become so cynical!?” ‘It is not cynical. There just are wrongs we cannot turn back the time on. Well- perhaps the dog could have, he never wanted to however. I have blood on my paws from making you, trusting a creature that never was a human… and I have damned a man to hell. And not even when I should have, only when it was too late.’ Finally, this managed to shut Old Sport up for good. Don’t look so hurt, other people have problems too. Except he didn’t have any problems. No, he was fine. It didn’t keep him awake at night. It didn’t bother him. Just the knowledge that there was something on his checklist to reach a goal he set himself, something that he would never be able to cross off, it irked him. Petty. A hint of sadness took ahold of him. “… how old are you, Fredbear? Or- were you, when you-“ ‘I lived many lives, those that joined me. Many more than I wanted to count. I feel so old, I cannot remember. And everyone I carry with me is so different too.’ “Alright then.” They were busy enough anyhow, trying to make the place look like new, like a place to feel happy at, to play and not to think about anything- Making it up. Celebrating the birthday they never had. Making a lie into a truth, a lure into a genuine gesture. Follow me. Old Sport did it once- now he played the part of Henry in the freeing missions. It was important to follow the old pattern, to overwrite it. Who would be doing the luring? Who would be cutting the cake? What games would they play? Fredbear kept quiet about it until they knew exactly where to go and all other preparations had been done. One thing at a time, he always said. “Fredbear?” Old Sport quietly asked. ‘Yes?’ “… can I- can I apologize to you? In their place I mean. Apologize to you like I would to them- just so- I have it out. And if you think it’s any good, then maybe you can tell them what I said.” ‘… it’s alright. We can do that.’ Understanding warmth- yet it didn’t feel like it was meant for him. He couldn’t accept it. At least this was something he was looking forward to- now he only had to figure out the right words to say. Lost in thought, he didn’t even realize how fast the time passed, until- “OLD SPORT!” Yelping the Orange Guy jumped, thankfully not triggering any springlocks. “DAVE! God- don’t- DO that!” Sheepishly the Purple Guy in the bunny suit tilted his head. “Sorry! Sorry Sportsy, really am, but I have- good news and bad news.” “Bad news?” “Ain’t nothing ya can do here.” Instantly turning more serious, Dave shook his head. “These are mine and mine alone. I guess I was really… passionate about the whole shutting down Freddy’s stuff. I lured them on my own. You can’t even be nearby.” His voice was so different. So much smoother, more clinical. It was nice and yet it wasn’t. Old Sport nodded. “… good news?” Perking up, back to his usual self, he pointed into the woods. “I know where they are! And I know how to lure ‘em, seein’ as they fuckin’ hate each other!” “… so two lost souls hate each other and you see that as a win?” “Yeah! It’ll be great! I can tell ‘em to meet here to fight and then- oh.” He scratched his fake ear. “… actually, now that ya say it, it might be a bit more of a hassle.” His expression turned pleading. “Spoooortsyyyyyy…? Ya always have such good ideas, so…?” “Depends on why they hate each other. Why are they fighting?” The pressure was on! “Uhm. How about you do actually send them here to fight, for one last time. Tell them that you’ll solve the fight once and for all. I think it will be the truth.” “Great!” “But Dave- remember- they might be fighting about who is at fault for their death. You… sure you want to get between that?” “Eh. It’s fine. If they’re upset about that, then it’ll be even easier to get them to calm down. Ain’t nobody’s fault they died but mine!” A hint of envy stung through Old Sport’s chest. “… you… really don’t mind, do you?” “Nah. It’s fine.” Curiously Dave looked at him. “They’ll give me a good beatin’, then they’ll be on their merry way. I dealt with worse pain before!” “That’s… not what I meant.” He said to much, and turning away didn’t help- Within a second, Dave’s hands were on him, as he pulled his orange lover closer, petting over the back of his head, a gesture he could feel even through the layer of metal and fur. “… did Fredbear bully you again? You should take the suit off.” “He never bullied me.” “He’s telling you stuff that upsets you! Over and over again!” Upset Dave scoffed. “Sounds like mistreatment to me! I’m telling you, if he gets too much, we’ll just get rid of him. We’ll figure the saving souls stuff out ourselves!” “I KNOW you would get rid of him.” That was exactly why he didn’t talk about it. “See? You know you can count on me!” For a moment Old Sport remained tense- then he slowly melted into the hug, trying to relax. “… I’m- Fredbear really didn’t do anything. I’m taking the suit off in a bit, when I’m sure he has nothing more to say- but it’s not the problem anyways.” He sighed, to himself. “You shrug it off so easily. I want to do it too. Or- I would want to, if I weren’t-“ It was hard to put it into words with Dave, who never really saw the world how he did. Once more he attempted. “If I’d do the thing I’d do, I would become worse for it. Worse and worse. I would do more bad things. So I’m- worried about messing up. I worry that if I start shrugging it off, I’ll never care in the first place.” It was obvious Dave frowned, even with the mask. “… I- don’t get it. Gotta be honest with you, Sportsy. Why do you think if you don’t make yourself feel a certain way, you’ll feel the exact opposite way? You’re yourself and do what you think feels right. Why would one bad thing lead to another? Unless you wanted to do all these bad things anyways? You don’t have to pretend with me.” “I… guess. But we made a deal. We’re freeing them. What happens after that…” Stumbling over his words Old Sport tried to gather himself. “I want to be someone. Someone better than who I am.” “… but if you want to be someone you deem good, it means you by yourself think that person is good. You, for yourself, have decided you like these traits. So if you want to be someone, then only because you can recognize what’s in them from something that’s within you.” “Dave, you’re scaring me when you’re this serious.” The big, moon-like eyes inside of the suit slimmed down to match a cheeky grin. “Ya can say that Old Sport, and I can dumb myself down for ya! Stop worryin’, dunce, leave all of that to me. I’ll be able to reel ya in if ya ever go off the rails!” Raising an eyebrow, the Orange Guy looked at him. “… you kill people for fun and profit.” “Yeah, but that ain’t a BIG deal, right? I can let ya stay home while I do it.” Playfully Dave responded, before turning away. “You need to have some more faith in me Old Sport… and for now, nothin’ of this matters! Let’s free some souls! Or rather, let ME free some souls, while ya have a nice evening. Watch some stars! Is everything ready for the party?” “All is set up!” “Fantastic, that’s why I love ya, Old Sport!” Instantly flustered, the Old Sport made a movement at him. “Quit saying that at EVERY opportunity!” “What?! Why?! I just say it when it’s true! Like when you laugh, when you make breakfast, when you burn breakfast, when you talk to me on the road, when you-“ “DAVE. EYES ON THE PRICE.” “You’re the only price I-“ “D A V E.” “Fine, fine, be the killjoy. That’s why I lov-“ “GET GOING. THE NIGHT ISN’T FOREVER.” “Sure, sure!” Waving at him and still laughing, Dave made his way down the hill, leaving the bear-suited guy inside of the ruin that was covered in glitter and lights. He had taken off the suit. Stargazing for now. Music came from the ruins of the old Freddy’s, music and light, glimpses of another world. It radiated outside in waves, catching up even the place where he and Fredbear sat. Soon enough he would change his form, leaving to join the two spirits. At least so far there wasn’t any screaming or crying, or fighting- it means whatever Dave had said to them or done with them worked out. Old Sport wished he could have joined them. Maybe he wouldn’t be caught up in all these thoughts still. “… Fredbear? Do you think what Dave said was right?” It was silent for a moment. Then the bear suit shifted a little, seeming more energized in presence of the party. ‘… no. But he is not entirely wrong either. Being good does not come naturally… and neither does being bad.’ Once more, quiet. The stars seemed a little bit closer than usually. “Fredbear. I want… I think I can say my apology now.” Wind breezed through the trees around them, sounding like whisper. Maybe mocking him? But all of a sudden, he felt a deep calm. Maybe mocking. Maybe expecting. No matter what, he would say what he needed to. ‘Go ahead.’ There was no soul to reach into, but his heart was still beating, still working, still doing its jobs. The heart could be wrong and harmful and petty. Perhaps even evil. It was better than nothing however, it was the one thing he had in contrast to Henry. “I… wanted to apologize.” He started. His voice quiet. “… and it won’t be a good apology, because what I want to apologize for isn’t something that… you CAN apologize for. I’ve been trying to find the right words for a while now, but there aren’t any. At least though, I can offer you a why. Why I did what I did. Something so wrong and cruel. I… did it, because it didn’t feel real. And that is abhorrent, I know exactly why, because now it is real, what I did was real, IS real, what I did to five real kids, who had their own lives, that I just TOOK away. It’s not fair, I shouldn’t have been able to do that. It’s insane to think that I could have done so, that the universe let me do it. God, I wish I could do something to make it up for you. That I somehow could replace everything I took. Yet, I can’t. I can’t even ask you what I could offer you. I’d let you borrow my body, wear me like a skinsuit, I’d bring you things that remind you of better times, more peaceful times, something that makes all the hurt go away for a few moments. This apology is one of the few things I can do for you, something I wanted to do for you for a while. I wanted to be there for the party. But I know I shouldn’t have, so I didn’t. … carried around these words and feelings with me for a while. I hope that wherever you are- knowing that I’m paying for what I did, every day a little. There’s justice in this world, even if it looks weird and doesn’t come around right away.” For a moment he paused, staring at the shining stars, that didn’t seem to care. “… I wish… I wish you all have forgotten me already. That would be right. Yes, I hope wherever you are, you don’t even remember the day. I hope you’re having fun and that you are free, that everything is just right, that I’m a nobody now and will stay that way forever- that you only remember those who were kind to you and made your life better. I hope you’re happy and I’m inconsequential. And I will keep paying and giving my best. So that you leave in your wake only good things.” His head hurt. This hasn’t been a good apology- but it was all out there now. He said what felt right to say. He said the things that he wished that they knew, deep down, even if he wasn’t the one saying it to them. Next to him, the real Fredbear stood up, shaking his golden fur, before putting one of his paws onto Old Sport’s shoulder. “THE PARTY NEEDS ME NOW. I WILL GET GOING.” “… yeah. Thank you Fredbear. Bring the kids somewhere nice, will you?” “I WILL.” With that the bear trotted off- Leaving Old Sport to gaze at the stars. At some point, someone sat down beside him. Then someone else. Then another one joined in. And a last. They didn’t forgive him. This was not something you could forgive. But they sat with him until the dawn broke, sun touching the grass, coloring it orange.

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 42 (epilogue)

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse.

NEW WARNING - fictional police brutality. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Masterlist on my profile!

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer @silver-stormy . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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Three years later.

After the Icebox rescue, Piotr had taken another leave of absence from the X-Men until he was sure Rhonda could take care of herself. The Rasputins argued for months about whether he should rejoin at all, knowing all too keenly the possibility of being snatched up by the DMC. They had settled on a reluctant compromise that he would alternate a month of active duty with a month off.

Rhonda never rejoined the X-Men, and never again tagged along with Piotr on a mission, no matter how Wade tried to bait her. She did, however, hammer into every single active duty member about being careful and made them promise that if they ran into DMC, to either kill them or run. Scott and some of the other members shook their heads and whispered about Rhonda being paranoid, but Piotr, Ororo, Ellie, Yukio, Hank, and Kurt knew better, and they frequently drilled simulations of fighting the DMC. Just in case.

When Piotr eventually resumed active duty, Rhonda was so anxious that she would be nauseous until he came home. Though she had been resistant to getting into therapy at first, she’d found an unexpected friend in Michelle. When they got past their tension and awkwardness of seeing each other as “the other woman,” Michelle made a lot of helpful suggestions. Rhonda started seeing someone Michelle had highly recommended - a therapist who was also a mutant and specialized in helping other mutants. They worked together well, and over time Rhonda worked past her trauma to a life she cherished.

--

A dance class sprang up at the Xavier School. It wasn’t quite ballet or modern dance, but it encouraged students to seek out multiple forms of dance and see how they can fit together. Rhonda studied and gained certification to teach aerial silks and started teaching a handful of students in an additional silks class. Yukio was her first silks student, and she became a skilled aerialist in her own right.

Rhonda found she enjoyed making choreography and videos to her favorite songs. She got her prison tattoos completely covered with a floral pattern that matched the zhostovo tray from her in-laws, just like the way Piotr had painted on her a few times. It was a lengthy process, but once her cover-up sleeve was done, Rhonda started posting videos under the pseudonym Zhostovo. When her following had built enough that people in the comments were begging for lessons, she realized she had outgrown the single room in the Xavier house.

A short drive away, Piotr and Rhonda found a great spot to build a larger studio. There was enough space to teach good sized classes and with the equipment put away, it converted to a beautiful soundstage for recording videos. Friends frequently visited and collaborated - Cable moved the camera or Rhonda herself for dreamlike effects, Russell had developed incredibly fine control with his abilities and was sometimes asked to help with some pyrotechnics. Piotr, Ellie, Yukio, and Wade found themselves in front of the camera a few times when Rhonda asked them to feature or perform a duet with her. Yukio was by far her favorite silks collaborator - it helped that they had similar electric abilities and made that part of their choreography as well.

Piotr lent his talents to paint gorgeous backdrops for some of the videos, and painted murals around the exterior of the studio, which eventually came to be called the Rasputin Performing Arts Center.

--

The court case against the DMC was messy, to say the least. Including Rhonda, there had been nine mutants who had been proven to be kidnapped and thrown into the Icebox with none of their rights honored - no phone call, no lawyer, nothing. For most of the Icebox Nine, as the media had called them, there weren’t even records of them in the Department of Mutant Control’s databases. The DMC itself dodged and weaved around accusations, using the lack of official record to try to discredit the prosecution, declaring it a ridiculous conspiracy theory.

Public perception was mired in reconciling the facts that there were many dangerous criminal mutants imprisoned in the Icebox, and also many who had been detained illegally - the true number of which was impossible to determine if they weren’t even on record. Never mind guessing how many had died over the years before they could be rescued. People didn’t want to believe both things were possible and true, and it gave Rhonda and Piotr a sick feeling their case would ultimately go nowhere, no matter how determined their attorney was.

Rumor had it that the DMC had closed the Icebox and had built a new prison in an undisclosed location. Professor Charles Xavier enlisted hackers to once again find whatever plans they could, but came up dry.

--

The Zhostovo YouTube channel grew quickly. Zhostovo herself was known for incredibly expressive choreography. At first, her videos were uncut wide shots of her rolling some floorwork across her studio space, or wrapped in silks in the air with her hair dyed to match, or sometimes moving through thin air, suspended by nothing the camera could see. She started with performing to songs from the early 2000s, before branching out to more recent hits. Her videos became more complex, with multiple camera angles, close ups, and special effects that at first viewers assumed were digital, until she published a video revealing that she was a mutant, and introduced the other mutants who helped make her videos by adding fire, fog, glowing sparks, and numerous other effects. In a matter of months, maybe a year, people started saying they preferred her videos over the musicians’ official, record label-produced videos.

Zhostovo’s performances for “Work Song” and “Someone New” by Hozier were what skyrocketed her channel’s popularity. There was a bone-chilling soulfulness she poured into those that resonated with many Hozier fans. Zhostovo made a few TV appearances, always flanked by her husband, whose steel form towered over everyone else, and at least one other mutant from the group she had introduced in her videos. She wasn’t young, but her hair was always dyed bright colors, and she had flower petals tattooed on one cheek, matching the folk painting style of the sleeve on her right arm. She was also an outspoken mutant rights activist, and made it clear that she wanted to show the world - humans and mutants alike - that extraordinary abilities can be used for fun and art and self-expression. She emphasized that most mutants were not the violent monsters conservative news stations made them out to be, and that believing them would cost lives every day.

--

On an early spring day, when things were green but there was still a little chill in the air if the sun wasn't out, Rhonda and Piotr were having a picnic on her grave, a special date they did a few times a year. The plot had been converted into a little garden, with just enough of a clear spot in the middle to fit two people having lunch. The granite headstone still stood with the erroneous year of death chipped away, but it was surrounded with rosemary and wildflowers. The season’s first bees bobbed along, looking for the most open flowers, and Rhonda’s grave was easily the brightest and most lively spot in the private cemetery. 

Rhonda’s smile tugged at the flower petal tattoos that covered the old prison tear drops. She gently waved a bee away from her sandwich before taking a bite. Piotr plucked a little sprig of rosemary and added the leaves to his sandwich before starting in on it. 

“You’re quiet today,” Piotr observed. “You seem like you’re in a good mood, but quiet.” He sipped some of the white wine they had packed. He had armored down, and was now able to hold it for hours at a time. He'd kept his beard - it was thick, neatly trimmed, and had just gotten its first touches of grey.

Her eyes crinkled more as she smiled around her bite of food. When she swallowed, she took a deep breath. “I got an email this morning,” she began. “I didn’t wanna say anything about it until I was sure it was real, you know?”

Piotr regarded his wife carefully, playful suspicion growing. “Sladkaya, an email from who?”

The cemetery was quiet, but she looked around anyway, as if checking for an unwelcome eavesdropper. The wildflowers and herbs rustled in the breeze. She grinned so big Piotr was sure he could count all her teeth. Her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath, “Hozier wants to collaborate on a music video. A real one, not the copyright infringement videos I do.”

Piotr almost dropped his sandwich before he remembered it was in his hand. He set it down and reached for her. Rhonda jumped to her feet and hugged his head to her stomach, both laughing. “That’s wonderful news!” His fingers pressed into her thighs. “Amazing! Is it for a new song? Or one already out?”

She was bouncing with excitement and squealing for a solid minute or two before she sat down again, still fidgeting and twisting with excitement. “I think a new one! His people sent over a contract and an NDA I have to sign before I can hear the song he wants to work on. Do you think Matthew would look it over? I know he’s not an entertainment lawyer, but a contract’s a contract, right?”

“We can ask,” he agreed as they toasted their plastic wine glasses. He watched her eyes sparkle with tears of excitement, the way her curls bounced as she laughed, dyed dark green to match the foliage in her tattoo. The lush blooms and leaves that filled her arm still had a raised texture of the Xs they covered if you looked closely, but the black spaces and gold scrollwork were striking any time she moved. “Is this what you wanted when we were young?” he asked.

“When I thought I was gonna go to Julliard and join a dance troupe?” She thought for a long minute, then shook her head. “It’s better.”

They shared beaming smiles, Piotr’s eyes brimming with tears for his wife's joy, when a fat little bumble bee landed on one of the flowers on Rhonda’s arm. “Oh!” he exclaimed softly. “Hold still, Sladkaya.”

He pulled out the camera he always brought along for these picnics, and captured the moment of Rhonda's surprise, noticing the bee on her tattoo, as she delicately held her wine glass with her four fingered right hand, her gravestone behind her, sunlight playing on her forest green curls.

[steebrogurz]

Brother

Summary: Steve goes to visit Bucky

warnings: so much angst, character death (past)

word count: 1028

a/n: here is a sequel to All I Want it was inspired by Brother by Kodaline. thank you so much for reading

Masterlist

The crisp morning air bit at Steve's ears and blew through his hair as he sped down the highway in silence. You were still asleep when he left and after she had spent the night crying he figured he still had at least a few hours before she woke up, and this was something he needed to do alone. 

He needed to say goodbye to his best friend, his brother.

Fifteen minutes later he had parked his motorcycle and started up the forest path to the small clearing where you and Steve both stood a month ago holding each other for support. It wasn't a difficult walk nor a long one, but every step he took towards that beautiful and terrible place was pure agony. His heart wanted nothing more than to turn around if only to preserve what little was left unbroken but he kept going, he had to or the grief would consume him.

When Steve reached the small clearing he stopped just at the edge of the trees, his heart hammered in his chest and he struggled to breathe over the lump that had formed in his throat. The sunlight filtered through the trees above, illuminating the clearing in a soft glow and for the first time since he set out on this mission Steve wasn't sure if he could go through with it. This was Bucky's favourite place and he brought Steve here every once in a while when they needed to get away from the city and their responsibilities for a few hours. It used to bring him peace but ever since he spread Bucky's ashes among the wildflowers and ferns it only brought him pain. 

Unable to bring himself to step beyond the trees, Steve sank to his knees feeling his heart break all over again. He was no stranger to this feeling of loss especially when it came to Bucky but it never got any easier. So he sat there at the edge of the clearing and cried until the tears ran dry and he was finally able to speak. 

“Hey Buck,” he sniffled wiping his face on his sleeve. “Do you remember when we were kids chasing each other through the streets? Getting into fights- okay I was getting into fights but you were always there to back me up.” He paused. “You were always there for me. Even after I became Captain America I was still just Steve to you. And when we were in the trenches I could always count on you to be there beside me." 

Steve looked out into the clearing and watched the bees buzz from flower to flower a flash of red caught his attention at the other side of the clearing but nothing came. "Y/N's been staying with me and I'm trying to be strong for her, to be that shoulder for her to cry on but it's hard. I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. She misses you… I miss you-" his words were choked off by another sob and he buried his face in his hands. 

"I should've- I should've been there for you. Maybe if I had paid more attention I could've done more to help you. I never said this enough when you were alive but I love you. You're my brother and we've been forced down different paths before but we always seemed to find our way back to each other. And I have to believe that we'll find each other after all this, just one more time..." Steve's words seemed to float on the breeze as he spoke. And when he couldn't anymore, he closed his eyes and sat in silence just listening to the breeze as it whispered through the leaves around him. 

He took in a deep breath almost finding peace in this place again when a bird song sounded next to him. He opened his eyes and looked over to see a cardinal sitting on a low branch watching him. For some unknown reason the sight of the vibrant red bird brought a smile to his face, and he felt a sense of comfort as he watched it jump from branch to branch. Suddenly, his phone rang pulling him out of his thoughts he looked down at the screen to see a picture of you and Bucky smiling a him.

“Hey Y/N, sorry I just went for a drive, I’ll be back in about 20 minutes.” He hung up shortly after and looked around expecting to see that the cardinal had flown away but it was still there, watching him. 

Steve took one last deep steadying breath before he stood, “goodbye Buck.” A few more tears fell as he left the clearing feeling as if he'd left a part himself back there but he kept walking. 

-------

Steve found you curled up in the armchair wrapped in the fluffiest blanket he owned when he walked through the door. You took one look at him and knew exactly where he had been. 

"You went to see him," your eyes tearing up as you spoke.

Steve only nodded, leaning against the door frame for support when you suddenly stood and walked into the kitchen without a word. When Steve walked in after you he found you standing in front of the coffee maker gripping the counter so hard you hands were shaking.

"Y/N..." Steve reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, and as soon as you felt his touch you turned and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist. Your body didn't shake like the last time he held you but neither of you could help the tears that fell for the hundredth time. They stood like this, holding onto each other for support when he heard the same bird song from the clearing.

Steve looked up to see the same cardinal sitting on the window ledge and that sense of peace from before washed over him again. He suddenly knew what that cardinal was trying to tell him, they would be okay. Bucky was still with them, watching over them, and waiting to see them again. 

a/n: thank you so much for reading!! please reblog and comment to let me know what you think :) 

tags: @oliviawestbay​

[steeltoss]

Pre Naruto — Naruto Headcanons. Ages 9-15.

I have nothing better to do while my phone is dying.

Age 9

We're starting here since I'm working on something already. Okay so the day her whole clan was obliborated and sent straight to Jesus, Hokkaido was taken from Konoha under the Third's order. From there, she went to an orphanage in Amegakure.

The orphanage wasn't too bad, but Hokkaido couldn't help missing Konohagakure. She wanted to leave the orphange and debated running away.

However, she didn't get to run away as a couple who never had children together spotted this lonely dark haired girl and wanted to adopt her. This led to confusion. Someone genuinely wanted to adopt her, a broken child?

They did adopt her. But she was quiet, confused even.

The lady was one of the most beautiful ladies she had ever seen, complete with Auburn hair and deep green eyes and a pallor complexion. Her new mother's name was Emi Suzuki of the Hidden Rain.

The man was strong, and he looked very mean, but he wasn't. Hokkaido just didn't know that yet. He had short, messy Sandy blonde hair and cocoa colored eyes. This was Shindou Suzuki, a very strong Shinobi of the Hidden Rain.

Upon going to her new home, things were very different. This family was patient with her learning and never pushed her too much, they had accepted her as if she really were their own child. But she didn't want to call them mom or dad because she only ever had one mom and one dad.

Hokkaido was given a nice room with a twin sized bed and a desk for schoolwork, Emi enjoyed buying her stuffed animals, her favorite was her stuffed panda that somehow made her think of Shisui. She slept with it every single night.

Entering the academy, she made two friends that she held close to her heart.

Aito Fugikame, a small and dark haired girl with violet eyes who reminded her of Hinata Hyūga from Konoha, maybe that's why she enjoyed her company so much.

Eiji Yamada, a brunette make who seemed a little idiotic but super friendly and was outcasted for being such a loveable idiot. This was in ways, her Naruto of Amegakure.

She began to adjust to her new life, the pain seemingly subsiding as she always came home to a hot meal and was called Yua, (and it literally means binding love and affection) by Emi.

Things were starting to go great, and for once after the massacre, Hokkaido Uchiha was smiling as she came home. But she missed her brother, Sasuke. She wondered how he was doing in Konoha.

Age 10

Having a good birthday, she blew the candles out on her cake before hiding her face in her hands. She was crying but didn't know why. Sure, she was happy, but how long would it last without her only other blood relative?

The trio [Hokkaido, Aito and Eiji] often roamed the village together and practiced their skills together, she finally perfected her Fireball Jutsu.

That's when people began looking at her all weird, she was an outsider, and they knew just how strong the Uchiha clan was.

Aito's mother wouldn't let her visit nor talk to Hokkaido anymore. This was the downfall.

Hokkaido shut herself off, she barely exited her room unless it was to eat or go to school.

Age 11

Emi had conceived her first daughter this year and she seemed rather focused upon the new baby that was due to arrive in July. Hokkaido was conflicted on how to feel, she was once her foster parents primary focus, and it seemed they had less and less time for her now. She never brought it up. She was still grateful she was given a family.

In July, Emi gave birth to a healthy little girl named Ichika. Hokkaido wanted eagerly on the front steps of their house, but was only met with a sullen faced Shindou and a baby in his arms. Emi was no where around.

Later that evening, Shindou had explained that Emi had passed on, and that Hokkaido was now rightfully the woman of the house.

Even though Emi wasn't her biological mother, Hokkaido was broken again. She had lost two mother's in her life. This was the very first time she cried over someone who wasn't related to her in any way.

But Ichika reminded her so much of Emi. She had beautiful Auburn hair and a buttoned nose, just like Emi. And Hokkaido would constantly talk to the growing child about how amazing their mother was.

At the time, she hadn't even realized she reffered to Emi as her own mother. She just knew she missed her more than anything.

Age 12

Celebrating Ichika's first birthday wasn't how she ever imagined it to be. Emi wasn't there to see her daughter grow up, she hadn't even gotten to see Hokkaido graduate from the Academy and become a genin.

Hokkaido was put in a squad with Aito and Eiji, but things were still tense with herself and Aito. Hokkaido never knew how to process her emotions. She used to go to Itachi or Shisui for things like that. But Shisui had died a year before the massacre.

This year also happens to be the year Hokkaido got her menstrual cycle. She went into a panic, thinking she was dying and bleeding out. After all, she really didn't have a grown female figure to turn to about this.

She was embarassed to even tell Shindou, but he was very calming and understanding. He explained she was becoming a woman and even gave her the birds and bees talk. She was disgusted.

Sasuke is now ten, and she wonders how he's doing. She debated on writing him a letter, but out of nervousness, she doesn't.

Age 13

Hokkaido spent a lot of her time doing activities as she was now co sidered am elder sibling by Ichika. Ichika was walking and talking and every day passing, looked more like Emi.

Hokkaido began training for her chunin exams, which, were coming up very shortly. She spent many hours training with her squad a day and had often had to be retrieved by Shindou.

Shindou often scolded her for overworking herself as he forced her to drink plenty of water and eat her greens. He was only looking out for his eldest after all.

Upon the day of the exams, Hokkaido finds out all three of her squad had to sign up. And they had. They are now officially beginning their journey as chunin.

The first exam, she nearly crapped a brick. The written test was hard and she knew nothing. But she still tried her hardest, hearing and seeing others being disqualified for cheating. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Afterwards, when she found out the objective was to cheat without being caught, she literally facepalms herself because she hadn't even thought of cheating. And then that damned question was asked.

Back at the exam, the proctor states that the candidates are free to choose whether or not they want to try and solve the tenth question. If they opt out, the entire team will fail. If they choose to answer the question but get it wrong, they will be barred from taking the Chūnin Exams forever.

Hokkaido's heart hit her guts. She was afraid of never becoming a chunin. But she pressed forward, only to find out the tenth question was already asked. The question was to test their determination and bravery.

Since I'm a lazy bastard and ive worked on this almost all damn day, I'm moving forward.

During the one on one fights, Hokkaido was matched against Kabuto Yakushi. [you know. Cuz this mf kept taking the exams cuz he a spying little-]

She lost.

She lost.

She didn't become a chunin on her first try, but congratulated Aito and Eiji upon becoming Chunin.

Age 14

Sasuke was finally old enough to take his own chunin exams and they were being hosted in Konohagakure! Hokkaido was estatic, she was finally going home to Konohagakure, even if it was just for the exams.

The exams started the same, and she passes. She couldn't help but keep glancing toward her brother however, a tugging on her heart. He hadn't even looked her way.

She wondered if he forgot her. He hadnt.

After the written exams, they prepared for the second part. Hokkaido was paired with two Amegakure genin.

However, a red haired sand ninja with a foul attitude caught her eye. Gaara.

Another skip, I'm half dead.

Anyway,, she became a chunin because of the circumstances and after the fight with Gaara and Naruto, Hokkaido goes home back to Amegakure.

Sasuke had changed so much, her little brother was growing up.

Age 15

Hokkaido had been caring for Ichika and tried being a great big sister to the four year old who somehow ended up looking up to her like she had to Itachi. It left her heart hurting a little.

Still, she would sometimes think back to that red haired boy.

She often ignored it because she didn't want to even tell Shindou about a possible boy she liked, let alone one that was so damn destructive.

Things were going well, and she was being sent on a mission to Konohagakure soon. This mission, however, required her to move away for six months. She would be aiding the Fifth Hokage, Tsunade.

She wondered why she was chosen for such a thing...

Okay. That's rushed but there. Heres her OG Naruto Headcanons. Shippuden comes next. Feedback is much appreciated. Nah this isn't proofread either.

[darksaiyangoku]

Bloodlines AU: Apex Cosplays

Joethefriendlyponybro: I've got another skit for y'all. And this time, it's a skit based off of DarkSaiyan's cosplay stories but set in my next gen RWBY AU. Let's see what I can share what strange stuff me and DarkSaiyan came up with, shall we?

[Vale City Comic-Con, the Belladonna-Wukong family's planned vacation spot for quite some time was just down the street. At a nearby bus stop stood Sun and his and Blake's daughter, Alexandria. Alex for short.

Sun wore a mustard-yellow jumpsuit along with brown gloves and tinted orange goggles. His hair was scruffier than usual to reflect his cosplay getup as Mirage from Apex Legends.

To his side sat Alex wearing a mostly black but also purple getup, her long and scruffy black hair wrapped up in a ponytail as Wraith from the same game.]

Sun: Whoo!!!! Haven’t been in cosplay gear in such a long time. I feel like I’m back at school again, hehe.

Alex: *removes eye contacts, revealing green eyes* Dad, when was the last time you dressed up?

Sun: Let’s see.......I think it was back when Team CFVY were visiting Vacuo. We all decided to cosplay as the MCU heroes. *chuckling* I called dibs on Star Lord. Neptune was piiiiiissed!

Alex: *jumps on top of bus stop* I think Elsa wanted to go as Sif this year. But, with tending to her folks' restaurant, I guess she had to work on filling out orders for con-goers.

Sun: Well, at least Ren and Nora are making some great cash with their kids this year. *muttering* Blake isn’t taking this as well as I thought she would...

Alex: Is mom taking it that bad? Sorry, cat ears. Couldn't help but pick it up.

Sun: Not really. She just hasn’t been in cosplay in long time. It’s kinda strange for her to be back in the den of the nerds. That.... and she’s getting looks from some thirsty boys.

Alex: You're both running Menagerie's own combat school. Not to mention ensuing Faunus relations across Remnant- -Wait. Who's ogling my mom? Who do I have to cast a hex on to remind them she's a married woman?

Sun: *points* That guy on the right at the bench on the end of the street.

[She turned to see a man thirsting over a photo of Blake on her Scroll. Alex immediately went into pack mode, shouting at the creep.]

Alex: *glares at creep, eyes glowing turquoise* HEY SHITHEAD! My mom is taken, so why don't you back off before I twist you into a pretzel, fondue you and feed you to an Ursa?! *bares teeth, resembling fangs*

Perv: *looks up* Oh my- -! *runs away*

Sun: *nods head* That’s my girl!

Alex: *grins at Sun, eyes no longer glowing* I aim to please! *looks around* Where is mom, anyway?

Sun: *smiling* Getting a smoothie. I might join her later. You're still meeting up with Rhiannon, right?

Alex: Yeah. Rhiannon and I are supposed to meet up at that smoothie joint. I wonder what's taking both of them so long?

Sun: Probably got sidetracked. You know what Remnant’s like.

[Before they continue, Alex gets ambushed from behind in a surprise embrace by a red-haired, ponytailed girl with green eyes and a blue tunic.]

Rhiannon: Sneak hug!

Alex: MREOW!

Sun: WOAH!!!! Rhiannon, hi!

Rhiannon: *sets Alex down, cackling* What's good, Mr. Wukong?

[Blake shortly followed. Dressed in black military-style gear as she noticed her daughter's friend being as sneaky as ever. She was panting as if she were out of breath and holding a drink.]

Alex: *stands down, blinking* Rhi? I thought you picked a costume.

Blake: *panting* Finally...got...that...smoothie.

Alex: *looks up* Uh, what was the hold up?

Blake: The thirsty boys, honey. They can be a handful.

Rhiannon: Mrs. B tried jogging in her Bangalore costume as well. Guess that thick padding got to her, first.

Blake: In my defense, I didn’t think it would be that heavy. I've definitely jogged in padding before.

Alex: Never said you didn't. So me and Rhi are headed to the park. Dad told me a bit about your cosplay funk. *lowers ears* Something wrong?

Blake: I haven’t done this in a while. I feel kinda rusty. But... *blushing* I needed a break from all the stress so we could be with you and Rhiannon. *looks down sadly*

Alex: *puts hand on Blake's shoulder* Mom, you look fine. That's why we dressed up for this con, right?

Rhiannon: *folds arms* She's got you there, Mrs. B. Not like I went for it. I just wanted to hang with you guys.

Blake: *smiles* True. You’re all right, I gotta loosen up.

Alex: *points up* I request as your daughter and aspiring Huntress to enjoy yourself since there's a lot on our plate once the school year starts back up again. Besides, *phases out torso, arms and lower legs* I can look the part as Wraith with my Semblance.

Blake: *laughs* Okay, I surrender!

Alex: *phases back in* Also, I'll be sure to smoke any thirsty boy who gives you bedroom eyes.

Rhiannon: I can tie 'em up with one of my rope bolts if it'll help.

Blake: I'll handle them myself, girls. But thank you.

Alex: Whatever you say, mom. *hugs Blake* And thanks for paying for this trip.

[Blake smiled, embracing her daughter back.]

Blake: Oh, honey. You deserve a treat for your hard work.

Sun: Did it have to come from my bank account though?

Alex: *releases Blake* Oh. Uh...Rhi?

Rhiannon: I 'unno. Some major bounty or escort mission he undertook? *checks Scroll* Come on, Alex. Let's get our photoshoot done.

Sun: Have fun, pumpkin. Try not to cloak in public.

Alex: Sure, dad. *walks off to the park with Rhiannon*

Sun: So, what mission was it last? The- -The one where I would split my paycheck with you to pay for this con trip?

Blake: I think it was the mission where I teamed up with the Red Flowers to stop a horde of Creeps.

Sun: *puts finger up to chin* Or, was it the trawler escort at Sockeye Junction? You know how pirates get around fishing villages.

Blake: Or maybe it was the one where Yang almost set a town on fire to kill some Arachnoids?

Sun: That's still a dumb name for spider Grimm. I don't know how Professort Port outvoted Oobleck on that but- -Nevermind. *half hugs Blake, wrapping tail around her waste and holding her like a dancer, barely spilling the smoothie* That's a good look for you, bee tee dubs. *grins*

Blake: *giggles* Sun, stop it! We’re in public.

Sun: 20 years of marriage. I think I've earned the chance to do stuff like this with you.

Blake: Gods. You’re so mischievous. *wraps her arms behind Sun’s neck* And that’s why I love you.

Sun: *picks up smoothie with tail* Love you too, babe. Shall I give you some sugar?

Blake: *pulls him in* Do it, honey.

[Sun pulled Blake in for a kiss. They practically glowed like bioluminescent mushrooms as their auras glowed with their embrace. They let go upon hearing a sloshy splat hit the pavement.]

Sun: *notices spilled smoothie* Uh, whoops.

Blake: Oh no! *teary-eyed* Damn you gravity!

Sun: Uh...I think there are milkshakes at the local Beetroot's we can get instead. Plus, their new salmon burger looks pretty good. *pulls out debit card* And I got membership there! Huah! *tosses debit card into smoothie pile* ...Man, how did the shopkeep do it back then?!

Blake: ...I like salmon.

Sun: See? Win-win! And I'll pay for the milkshakes.

Blake: *small smile* I’d like that.

Sun: Good husband powers no jutsu! *roundhouse kicks, tripping and landing ass-first into the smoothie pile, crushing cup* Ah, crap. These jeans were a rental.

Blake: *laughing* I guess now we’re even!

Sun: Yay. Anyway, onto the burgers! *wraps arm and tail around Blake* I'll let you wear my cosplay goggles for sex tonight~! *winks*

Blake: *purring* Mmm, I like sound of that.

BLATANT TRANSITION THING

Joethefriendlyponybro: Well, that was certainly something. Hopefully your viewers enjoy it as much as I enjoyed doing this skit with you. This was fun, thanks.

DarkSaiyanGoku: Don’t mention it bro, always happy to help out. I might do more of these RPs more often with anyone else, if they ask.

[axelsagewrites]

Raphael Santiago*Attractive

Ship(s): Raphael X Shadowhunter!Reader

Request: nope

Warnings: Insecurities, self doubt

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

(Y/D/N) = your dog's name

(Y/F/D) = your favourite drink

Being a shadowhunter had serious perks and downfalls. I have above human abilities, cool, I put my life on the line daily, not so cool, shadowhunters are naturally prettier, awesome, but I'm not one of the shadowhunters, not so awesome.

I'd grown up not thinking about appearances. My family was too busy teaching me to be a shadowhunters and good person than to brush my hair and what colours matched my eyes. I was always clean and when the formal occasion arose, I was able to clean up and look smart. But what I noticed as I grew up was, I wasn't pretty.

My parents had been transferred to the New York Institute when I was young, and my family followed them. They were then requested in Idris when I was 15 and I decided to stay in New York. My family was hesitant but Maryse and Robert said they'd look after me. My parents didn't trust this since they were always away at clave meetings and barely spent time with their own kids since they learned how to use a microwave. What convinced them was Alec telling them 'we'll look after (Y/N). We're a team'.

The team he referred to was Alec, Jace, Isabelle, and me. With Alec being a couple of years older plus the other two of my parents relented. I was beyond happy to stay with my friends and not break up the dream team.

But I was 15, so was Isabelle, Jace was 16 and Alec had just turned 17. We were teenagers who were all beginning to notice other people's beauty. Or as Jace called in as a dorky 16-year-old 'rocking bods. Everyone else developed, grew, shrunk, changed, cleaned up, and started buying their own clothes.

I tried to look good. I went shopping with Isabelle, Alec told us all how to shave since his parents weren't around to teach the girls or boys, and Jace helped me work out. Eventually, I stopped caring. All the guys flocked to Isabelle, and all the girls ran and stumbled over each other to Jace and Alec despite having no chance with the later. It's not even that I didn't pick up crushes, it's just no one had any.

Isabelle said I didn't know what I was missing out on when I said I'd given up on love oh so dramatically at 17. I was glad I didn't know since then I wasn't missing it. I was 17 and had never been kissed and I told myself I was okay with that.

Later on, Clary came along, along with the whole valentine crisis, and thank my lucky stars she wasn't a girl to talk about crushes and soppy romances. Simon, of course, flocked to Isabelle like a bee to honey and Jace had a similar effect on Clary. Alec met Magnus and I adopted a dog. Seemed reasonable.

During the drama with Valentine, no one really cared about other people's love lives, begin to concern with the increased risk of death, but then suddenly Valentine was dead, and Sebastian was gone. Everything went back to normal. I was 19 and alone. It was lonely.

When we went out to clubs and bars, they all had someone beside them, and I was 7th wheeling. Hanging out with everyone made me feel like a creepy uncle who'd never settled down. Then the questions started.

"(Y/N) have you met the transfer from England? Quite the catch," Isabelle asked as we sat around Magnus' apartment. Alec had invited us over for drinks and Magnus pretended not to enjoy our company. Simon shot Isabelle a funny look and she rolled her eyes.

I almost copied her. "Yeah, I suppose. They seem like a good shadowhunter I guess," I avoided the question. My dog, who I had decided to bring with me so I could walk him after, tensed up.

"Yeah," Alec walked in from the kitchen, sitting on the armrest of my chair. "Not bad looking either,"

Magnus hummed, "Seconded,"

"I guess,"

"Maybe you should ask him out," Jace said.

I sighed, "Maybe you should mind your business," the room fell quiet, "Not only did Jaden say they had a girlfriend back home," Isabelle slumped back in their chair, "but maybe I don't want to date some random transfer,"

"(Y/N) ..." Magnus started but hesitated for a minute. He and Alec shared a look before he continued, "I hate to ask but what's your sexuality? Gay, straight, freewheeling bisexual, ace?" he listed a few and I felt my face grow hot, "Just so we know how to help you get...experience. If you want any that is,"

"Unbelievable," I muttered "Really? is it so unbelievable to you that I don't want your help? Maybe I want to find someone on my own and not force it?" At this point (Y/D/N) jumped out my lap and I followed shortly, putting their leash on them.

"Where are you going?" Isabelle asked but she didn't stand to stop me.

I looked over the room where 3 happy couples sat, "Somewhere where I don't need a partner to be accepted," And with that, I stormed out.

I kept my storming pace up until I reached the bottom of the stairs. No one was following me. I sighed and looked at (Y/D/N) who, if they were a person I reckon would've been shrugging. I felt alone.

My footsteps were slow and happened without me thinking. I opened the door and started walking the streets, unsure of what to do. Was I happy being alone? Would I be happy with someone else? Id not even had my first kiss yet. Thoughts seemed to dance around my mind, inviting more to join in.

It was getting dark, so I quickly put on a night vision rune. I had a seraph blade on me, so I wasn't worried. I didn't care much either.

The streets were busier than I would have liked, and I kept bumping into people whenever I passed a club or bar. This time when someone bumped into me, I felt a cold shiver go down my arm. I turned to see who it was, but he was already staring back at me. "Raphael?" I said unsure if it was him or whether I was about to embarrass myself in front of a random vampire.

"Yeah. (Y/N) right?" he asked, moving to let people passed. I nodded, "On a mission?" he asked.

"Nope just out."

"With a dog? At 10 at night?"

I looked down at (Y/D/N) and sighed, "Yeah I guess,"

The grumbles of those trying to get passed us must've caught his attention, "Why don't we move to the side," he said, already guiding me out of the crowd.

We stood, a few paces away from the bar's door where people had swarmed, and my hand gripped the leash. "So...how've you been?" this was awkward. We'd met during the war but never really spoke. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't attractive, but my mind always went back to the fact I wasn't.

"Not bad. Valentines gone so..." the normally smooth and somewhat cocky vampire seemed subdued. "I'd offer to catch up over a drink, but you've got..." he pointed down my dog who sat by my feet just staring at him.

"(Y/D/N)" I told him, "Yeah maybe not the best time for a walk,"

Raphael hummed, "I'm not that into dogs. Too wolf-like,"

Was that a thing? Were vampires that against werewolves that it went to dogs too? "I suppose but (Y/D/N) isn't even a little wolfly,"

"Like their owner? I do remember you being catty when we first met,"

"Well, you had just kidnapped a mundane,"

"What can I say? Desperate times," he smirked, and the corners of my lips tugged up.

I'd opened my mouth before thinking, "We could always buy a drink and sit outside?" I waited for the rejection that had followed every time id hinted at something with other people.

This time his smirk seemed to twist into a smile, "I think there is a corner shop down there if you don't mind the walk,"

Before I knew it, I was sitting with Raphael in an empty park at midnight drinking out of a cheap bottle of (Y/F/D). around 1 I got a call which I ignored till another two followed, "You should probably answer that,"

"I know," I said through a smile I hadn't been able to drop since it started, "Hello?" I said into the phone. Isabelle proceeds to freak out on me how I wasn't back at the institute and I had ignored her texts and that I had to get back soon.

I hung up and Raphael gave me a small smile "Hometime?" he asked.

"Yup" I sighed, tossing my empty bottle into the bin.

Raphael stood up and extended a hand to me. I accepted his help, though I obviously didn't need it, and we began walking to the institute though he didn't drop my hand. I didn't mind either.

We still talked as we walked and when I saw the top towers of the institute come into sight, I felt disappointed. "We should do this again sometime," Raphael stopped. I noticed how it was just before institute grounds.

I wanted to smile but held off, "Really?"

Raphael let out a laugh and I felt myself dying inside. He quickly stopped his laughter, "Sorry it's just...I'd love to do this again. Really. you're quite...entrancing,"

"Really?" I asked, looking down at the ground. I knew I was blushing, another downside of being a shadowhunter.

"Yeah. Really," When I looked up, he was smiling. I'd never felt more contempt. We exchanged numbers and set up a time. "It's a date then," Raphael grinned. "Night (Y/N), (Y/D/N)," he crouched down to pet them. "Looks like dogs have grown on me," he said before leaving.

I stood there as he walked back down the path. He stopped at the pavement and turned back to wave. I lifted my hand as a mini-wave as (Y/D/N) barked. As I turned to walk back in, I thought about what he'd said. It's a date then. A date.

"Where have you been?!" Isabelle screeched when I walked in. I didn't care. A date.

[crossroadsimagine]

Naruto Scenario? Kiba feeling distraught because he thinks the love of his life doesn't love him anymore ?

It was early in the morning and a fairly nice day so far the weather was nearly perfect, not to hot not to cold and plenty of clouds in the sky. Kiba was sitting outside with Akamaru on the outskirts of the village, inside the forest a little ways where it was quiet and no one else around.

It was unusual that Kiba woke up before you, in fact he often slept in much later than you. At least that’s how it had been since the two of you had starting dating and since you’ve moved in together. You had gotten quite use to waking him up in the morning after you got up and got ready for the day.

But the last few days hadn’t been like that, you’d wake up and he’d already be gone. You couldn’t understand what was going on and you kept trying to talk to him but it almost felt like he was avoiding you. Every time he did come home he seemed to be in a rush to go somewhere else, or he would have an excuse why he couldn’t talk at the moment. 

It left you confused but you just figured he was being kept busy with missions, and didn’t want to push him too much. You were being kept quite busy too so you didn’t really have much time to be around him either, so you just figured you were reading to much into things.

However you knew that today was your day off and Kiba was also suppose to have the day off and when you woke up he was already gone. You had gotten up and showered and got ready for the day but was disappointed he still was no where to be found, you had thought maybe he went out on a walk and would be back shortly.

You were hoping that the two of you could spend the day together, and really catch up on some things but you figured you would continue to wait until he came home, assuming he couldn’t possibly stay out all day.

Meanwhile Kiba really was avoiding you the last few days, you had been quite busy lately. Though he wasn’t avoiding you because you were busy but because you had been going on missions lately with a guy he didn’t know. And being as Kiba gets jealous painfully easy he was beginning to question who this guy was, and with you being busy it was easy for him to start feeling a bit lonely and neglected.

What he didn’t realize was the fact that you were asked to go on missions with this new guy, because he was newer and inexperienced a way to show him the ropes. Kiba only saw this guy as someone who was a threat to the relationship, and this made him question whether or not you still loved him.

Perhaps you were having doubts about the relationship and in his mind this made sense as to why you were going on missions with this guy, and why you hadn’t mentioned him. Thinking maybe you were developing feelings for this guy and keeping it secret from him.

These thoughts and question he had was tormenting him, because while he wanted to know if any of thoughts were true he was afraid of the answers. It made it painful for him to make eye contact with you and he was afraid of starting a conversation with you, fearing any conversation could end with you breaking up with him.

This led him to simply avoid you for the time being not knowing how to deal with the situation. Every time he was away from you he would get annoyed and want to confront you and just get everything out in the open, but then every time when he got in front of you he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would freeze up as soon as he met your gaze and avoid the confrontation again and again.

You sat in the living room and by now a few hours had past since you woke up this morning, you couldn’t believe Kiba was still out on a day off. And now you couldn’t help but sense that something was wrong, which made your mind wander with the possibilities of what could be going on.

Where was he? what was he doing? you knew he wasn’t on a mission so your mind filled with negative possibilities, normally Kiba was rather clingy and attentive even overbearing at times.

You couldn’t take it anymore and realized you had to find him and get to the bottom of things, hurrying out the door you began checking the places the two of you often hung out or any place Kiba frequented. Feeling as if you ran all over the village you felt like he was no where to be found, you began wandering around the outskirts of the village knowing that Kiba would often go out for walks or hiking throughout the forests around and near the village.

Suddenly you spotted him through the trees and hurried making a bee line straight for him, the sound of you rustling through the forest caught Akamaru’s attention and he perked up and sat up looking in your direction. This caught Kiba’s eye but you were already too close to him for him to go any where without it blatantly looking like he ran off.

You were so happy to have found him that you weren’t watching your footing and caught your foot in some brush. You tripped clumsily and fell right towards him, though he was close enough that he reached out and caught you in his arms as you fell. This made your landing soft and you both ended up on your knees in the grass facing each other.

“A-are you okay?” he stuttered seemingly surprised and flustered by your sudden appearance.

But you weren’t really concerned about yourself at the moment,

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine!” you answered quickly and before he could say another word,

“Where have you been all morning?” you asked sounding a little worried which you were more worried about what his answer would be.

He didn’t seem ready for your question at all and he immediately looked away breaking eye contact, you felt your heart sink in his reaction really made you wonder now.

“What is it? what’s going on?” you questioned only growing more worried about what was really going on with him these last few days.

“I know something’s going on, you’ve been acting strangely all week.” you pointed out as you moved side to side a bit trying to make him look you in the eye. 

“If something’s wrong you can tell me.” you tried to assure him and you grabbed his forearms trying to be comforting.

He suddenly turned to look right at you and he seemed to have a bit of an annoyed look on his face,

“You’ve been acting weird too!” he snapped raising his voice slightly as he looked direction into your eyes.

“I have not.” you dismissed quickly and doubtfully,

“If you’d be home for more than five minutes you’d know that.” you complained.

He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that and went quiet for a few seconds, he sighed and looked down

“What am I to you?” he asked in a plain tone but you almost felt like he was accussing you of something.

“What do you mean?” you said confused, not really following where he was going with this.

“If you don’t love me I’d rather you just tell me!” Kiba huffed as he began to pull his arms back away from you, but you gripped his arms tighter.

“What are you talking about!?” you objected now raising your voice.

“Have you lost your mind?” you questioned feeling like his accusations were coming out of nowhere.

“Of course I love you!” you assured,

“What in the world would make you doubt that?” you asked genuinely confused and curious where he was getting this idea.

“Well, whose that guy you’ve been hanging out with then?” he questioned seemingly growing more annoyed.

“What guy?” you said perplexed over everything coming out of his mouth.

“The one you’ve been going on missions with all week!” he snapped,

“Oooh” you managed to say because all of a sudden things were suddenly beginning to make sense. You were well aware that Kiba was the jealous type and had a feeling that Kiba has gotten the completely wrong impression.

“OoOoh Yeah! THAT guy” Kiba said mockingly,

“You have the wrong idea.” you interrupted him before he could say anything else.

“There’s nothing going on with me and that guy.” you began to explain but got cut off,

“Well, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with him.” Kiba snapped again.

“Look! he’s just new! I was asked to go on a few missions with him, just to show him a few things thats it.” you objected,

“I won’t even be going on any more missions with him, it was only for a few days.” you explained.

Kiba gave you a suspicious look and was quiet. “I’m in love with you, no one else.” you tried to reassure him.

“Wait, is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?” you questioned, and his expression changed to surprise and you knew you were right.

“Why didn’t you just ask me instead of hiding from me?” you asked tilting you head in a confused manner. He was quiet for a few moments before looking away from you,

“Cause I was afraid of what your answer was gonna be.” he admitted in a low voice, and you could see him blushing slightly.

“You should of just come to me.” you said sympathetically,

“We have to work these things out together, and this was just a misunderstanding that could of been cleared up days ago.” you assured.

You scooted closer to him “I love you.”

you said lovingly as you placed your hands lightly on his cheeks and kissed him gently. He hesistated for a moment,

“I love you too.” he said as he placed his hands on your waist, and you put your hands on his shoulders and he helped you back up to your feet.

[obrennon]

Basic Information

Full Name: Lance Grayson O'Brennon

Name: Lance 

Alias / Nickname: Irishman, Wolf.

Age: Looks 37 | Actually 700

Date of Birth: February 24th

Species: Werewolf

Hometown: Wexford, Ireland (Southern Ireland)

Current Location: Thorn Haven

Nationality: Irish

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Pansexual & Polyamorous

Religion: Agnostic

Occupation: Fighter | Bodyguard

Living Arrangements: Where ever Lance does stay he usually has minimal things, enough to make it seem lived in but nothing that would hold any personal touches to it.

Language(s) Spoken: Gaelic, English, Russian, some Italian& Latin, enough French.

Accent: Lance has a thick Irish accent which only gets thicker the more he's either drunk or angry, but he doesn’t try to hide, however, if absolutely necessary and or if he’s feeling like it, Lance can do a rather decent American accent (&& it’s not southern!)

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Cam Gigandet

Hair Color: Dirty Blonde

Eye Color: Blue 

Height: 6'2

Weight: 155

Build: toned, athletic, muscular

Tattoos: TBD

Piercings: N/A

Clothing Style: earthy & blue colors,  basic and plain style. Jeans, t'shirt and hoodies/jackets. Unless a uniform is needed (i.e. job or fancy event).

Usual Expression: tries to maintain a friendly & welcoming expression, 

Distinguishing Characteristics: has a bite scar on his neck & some medium, claw like scars on his back. a small birthmark on his bottom lip, a small white line. various scars all over his torso, old bullet & knife wounds from before he was a wolf.

Health

Physical Ailments: none anymore

Neurological Conditions: N/A

Allergies: bee stings. which are no longer an issue

Sleeping Habits: Lance finds sleep when he can, but it is very infrequent and only for at least an hour or two. 

Eating Habits: he loves food, always has, Lance can eat at any given moment. 

Exercise Habits: Lance doesn’t need a lot to keep himself in shape, he loves to walk & run, but can also be found boxing & or fighting. 

Emotional Stability: Lance has always been an emotional and passionate person, he gets invested far too quickly & has a problem with trying to be a protector for those who cannot protect themselves. 

Sociability: Lance can be a social butterfly, all smiles & jokes

Body Temperature: Lance has a higher temperature from humans, it’s rather noticeable & sometimes it can be thought he is ill as it is far warmer than any normal temperature.

Addictions: alcohol, fighting

Drug Use: only in an effort to subdue the pain & ache within him, drowning out his demons & the memories that haunt him. but it’s nothing regular & certainly not his choice of self-medication.

Alcohol Use: what day is it? Lance could go for a shot or a few beers, that’s for sure.

Personality

Label: The Warrior / The Challenger

Positive Traits: compassionate, reliable, protective, sincere, passionate, romantic

Negative Traits: self-destructive, aggressive, hot-headed, needy, 

Goals/Desires: other than wasting away to nothing? getting into a good fight is probably his other goal, maybe making a name for himself in The Pit.

Fears: Lance has always been afraid of losing people & yet it is something that happens to him constantly, 

Hobbies: drinking, fighting, billiards, going to concerts / music, enjoys dancing w/ pretty people, karaoke if the urge hits him.

Habits: Lance runs his hand through his hair when he’s anxious or nervous or gets himself into an awkward situation, he also taps chews at his cheek when something is bothering him. 

Favorites

Weather: rain, Lance has always loved the rain. he’s also particularly fond of snow

Color: black & blue

Music: celtic, rock, some hip-hop

Movies: action, thrillers, murder / mystery

Sport: rugby

Beverage: beer, whisky, scotch, coffee.

Food: see food, literally any food will do, are you gonna eat that? no? okay, Lance will.

Animal: wolf

Family

Father: Sheamus O’Brennon (deceased) 

Mother: Caoimhe O’Brennon (deceased)

Sibling(s): Younger sister, Joan O’Brennon (deceased)

Children: none

Family’s Financial Status: poor

Biography

(trigger warnings for suicide (mentioned), sexual, verbal & physical abuse, alcoholism, death, murder, fatal illness)

Lance was very much a mama’s boy growing up, the earliest memory that Lance has of his mother was that she used to sing and read to him, folklore and songs of Ireland; before his sister was born Caoimhe used to take her son to her family's beach house in Wexford where Lance was actually born. His more fond memories of his childhood were spent at that beach house and even after his mother got sick shortly after his little sister was born they continued to go to the beach and it was something he cherished. When his mother became worse and the fights that she had protected her son from got worse, Lance found himself stepping between his father and his mother to stop the blows he would give her.

Distraught his mother made him promise to protect his little sister, no matter what, and even if anything happened to her, only shortly after that Lance’s mother died. The children were devastated and thus was the end of their happy days on the beach. Joan was Lance’s world after his mother died and he did everything to protect her, from fighting bullies in school to keeping his father preoccupied with beating him instead of Joan. They were very close and spent as much time together as possible, she was the one person in his life that truly understood what he did and why he did it; even though she didn’t like that their father beat Lance, Joan understood, even as a young child, that all her older brother was doing was protecting her to the best of his abilities.

One of the things that Lance fondly remembers about his sister is how she used to make little trinkets and jewelry out of the things she found on the street or around the house, thus why he has a pendent of hers that she made for him. It wasn’t until a fifteen year old Lance came home from school to find his father assaulting his sister did he actually fail at keeping her safe.That day still haunts the Irishman, the memories still as fresh as if they had just happened yesterday. The relationship Lance held with his father was little to nothing, he hated the man for not only what he had done to his mother but especially for what he found the man doing to his sister that day. Inevitably it ended badly for Lance and even worse for his father; the blood of the drunkard will never be a regret the Irishman holds, taking that bastard's life was the most assured thing he ever could have done.

The events that followed the incident were not the best either. Traumatized by the whole thing to begin with the siblings were separated and there was no way Lance could have gotten to Joan sooner. But when he did his absolute worst nightmare had come true, unable to handle the pain of what her father did and losing her brother a young Joan took her own life, leaving Lance on his own. When Lance was nineteen he joined the military and never looked back, he excelled through the ranks of the military quicker than anyone had ever thought and soon he was chosen for a special task force.

Still he worked harder than anyone else in the program and soon he was being sent on his own operations only a few years into his training, with experience came the bigger missions and soon he was a deadly assassin. Then everything changed when a great war began and Lance was sent into the forces against others just like him. However, that wasn’t all that changed during the war, there, in the dead of night the Irishman met a creature that was unlike anything he had ever known to be real, the great wolf attacked Lance. As if it wasn’t difficult enough for the man to live with his haunted memories he was destined to live with his mistakes as a creature of the night, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

When Lance woke up on the battlefield he wasn’t sure what had happened, if everything that had happened was a dream or not, but the blood that stained his clothes and the pain that was throbbing in his head made it more of a reality. The eerie silence of the field surrounding him, the bodies that still were laying where they had fallen was almost too much for his confused mind to process. But he got up and dragged himself back to his troop, what was left of it anyways.

His wounds were nursed and bandaged and eventually healed quicker than what was expected. The attack of a crazed creature was long from his mind by the full moon, of course, that did not last long as the change took over his body and when he woke from that nightmare there were more horrors than he had seen in all his days in this horrendous war. His squadron, his comrades in arms, his family was dead and from the amount of blood that coated his body, Lance had no doubt he was the horror that had caused this tragedy. He had no other choice but to go AWOL. Lance had become the monster of legends, of myths and stories.

The Irishman shipped himself off to the Americas, doing so with great difficulty due to his monthly changes and his want to keep from harming people, but it didn’t always work out to despite his best efforts. People were hurt along the way, many more were killed as he tried to teach himself how to harness the beast within him, this was not something so easily attained. This monster was not as easily conquered as learning to use a weapon or to fight was, his new situation was something he’d never be able to accomplish what he wanted and that was to keep from hurting more people.

There was a point where he wanted to die, wanted to stop the pain he was causing by his inability to control anything. In the cusp of complete despair, however, there was hope. An older beast, one who had been turned many decades before him and was soon to find their own place of peace found Lance, it was not of his doing but he clung to the hope he was given. It was as if his mother, the kindest soul he had ever known, was reaching out to him in the form of another to bring him solidarity and control. It took a long while, the two traveled together all over the States before they found a spot deep in the woods of Colorado, where no one but the wild animals would be hunted by the beast until the young one was able to focus his mind.

Old age soon took the other wolf and with him a part of Lance, but not before he had been taught key skills that would help Lance on his journey through the outside world, not only with the politics that were always in play, but also with how people would handle him with the knowledge that he was a beast which caused disaster if not controlled. When he felt the moment was right, Lance ventured out of the woods, very much the image of a mountain man in the early 1930′s just in time to get a leg in some kind of society, keeping to himself before the next war began.

So it continued like this, he would join the military under whatever alias he came up with before going MIA or being pronounced dead and would find himself back in the Americas, it was safer there– for his memories, anyways, it was away from the place he called home. Decades passed and Lance finally found the world had eased on its blood-lust for war, but of course that couldn’t last long. There were some supernaturals that lived among the humans, even married them, an effort to keep the peace between their kinds. In his distrust and doubt, Lance kept to himself, keeping everything to himself, running into trouble whenever his memories needed drowning and he got a few drinks in him.

Eventually he found work in the bodyguard and security detail business, a family of witches, they understood his needs and it was a comfort to have an employer that could excuse Lance once a month for the full moon. He was assigned to his employers daughter, meant to protect and keep her out of trouble, something he had to shape up in his own life, but he was diligent and in his protection the Irishman fell for the beautiful blonde witch he was protecting. That was until his protection wasn’t enough and he wasn’t there to save her, the scene Lance found made him believe she was dead, still, without a body he couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t stop the wolf from mourning and trekking across the land to the worst place to be, which was good enough a place for him to drown his sorrows and try to rid himself of her. Something he found to be impossible, even as he joined the ruffians within Thorn Haven.

[timeinabottle]

Joyce & Hopper meet-cute in Melvald’s over the holidays, Will & Jonathan make an appearance. Life in sleepy Hawkins before the upside-down. 

Read on AO3 {x}  Mixtape on spotify {x}

If The Fates Allow

Christmas, 1982

It was quarter to seven on December 21st, and Joyce Byers was finally coming up on the tail end of her shift at Melvald’s General Store. She was all alone, sitting at the checkout counter, chin in her hands, mindlessly flipping through the latest issue of Cosmopolitan and listening to Brenda Lee’s holiday hits on the tape deck. Nearly an hour had passed now without a single customer and the minutes were crawling by.

Busy little bee that she was, Joyce had already swept, restocked the shelves, dusted the displays at the front of the store and replaced a few worn snowflakes hanging in the windows. She even remembered to water the poinsettias. All she had left to do now was cash out, and she was gone. Her fuddy-duddy of a boss wouldn’t normally approve of such things, but Joyce decided to close out her cash register early anyway. Donald would just have to understand.

Tonight was special after-all: the Hawkins Middle School Christmas pageant began at seven-thirty sharp, and she would need to lock up the store within the next twenty minutes to get there on time. The sixth-grade students were putting on a production of A Christmas Carol, Will was playing Tiny Tim, and she couldn’t be more thrilled. She was so proud, in fact, that she had bragged non-stop all day to anyone who’d listen.

Her youngest had devoted the past two weeks to rehearsing with his brother and friends in her living room, while she sat cross-legged on the floor, reading their stage directions aloud. She knew that script word for word by that point and while he might not have the most lines like Mike or the funniest ones like Lucas and Dustin, Will’s lines were the most important of the whole play, in her opinion. She was more than excited to see her baby’s debut performance.

Jonathan had called the store shortly after six to say he was running late and might not make it to the store in time to pick up the finishing touches for Will’s costume before he needed to get his brother back to the school. Joyce still had the pageboy cap (she had finished sewing it on her lunch break that afternoon) and a crutch borrowed from the pharmacy down the street, so she absolutely, positively could. Not. Be. Late.

She was nearly done tallying up her receipts with two minutes to close when she heard the bell on the door chime behind her. Of course a customer would walk in as she was closing up tonight, the only night of the year she had somewhere important to be.

“Oh come on,” she muttered under her breath, looking up in time to see her inconsiderate shopper breeze by. The familiar face glanced her way and gave a slight nod, acknowledging her unapologetic stare. He looked like a man on a mission brushing the fresh snowflakes off his corduroy jacket with that perpetually annoyed expression on his face.

It was always a strange sight to see Hopper out of uniform.

That night, he was wearing a festive plaid flannel and jeans. His dirty blonde hair was mussed, missing it’s sheriff’s hat, and day-old whiskers shadowed his cheeks. He passed the disheveled look off like it was intentional — even though she knew that he had likely just rolled out of bed from patrol the night before and didn’t give a hoot what he looked like. That just made it all the more sexier in her opinion and she scolded herself for thinking that way. She couldn’t help herself, though. He was aging into the perfect blend of Harrison Ford and Jack Nicholson: A bit rough around the edges, handsome as hell, and cocky… like he knew it.

Her heart was creeping its way into her throat as she watched him head to the back of the store. You don’t like him like that anymore, she reminded herself sternly (even though she knew deep down it was a lie).

Bee-lining to where Donald kept the liquor, he snuck another glance back at Joyce before turning down the aisle and disappearing from view. She pretended not to notice and promptly checked her reflection in the dark windows, thanking her good sense that morning to put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup for the pageant tonight. Smoothing her new bangs in vain, she took out the cherry chapstick from her vest pocket, popping some color on her lips. Joyce was nonchalant but mentally preparing for the worst.

An unsavory exchange at the supermarket on Labor Day that year had left a sour taste in her mouth and she vividly recalled swearing to herself on the drive home that if she never saw Jim Hopper again, it would be too soon. She regretted every word she said by the time the groceries were put away and meant to apologize when she saw him again, but in spite of their small hometown, they managed to avoid each other for the rest of autumn. Joyce really couldn’t be too surprised to see him now; they were well overdue for a run-in, and it was quickly becoming apparent he was meant to play the Ghost of Christmas Past in this twisted little production of her life.

But maybe (emphasis on maybe) enough time had passed now, and Hopper wouldn’t be on the defensive with her this time. He could see for himself that she was doing good and she could let him know that she took his words of advice, got her life back on track. She could finally, properly thank him. They could both say their sorry’s and move on.

Sure, it wasn’t the greatest timing, and she had maybe less than ten minutes to follow through on this little burst of spontaneity, but she could work with what she was given and was grateful for the opportunity at a fresh start. This could be her new year’s resolution for ’83, and it was something she could get started on right now.

She had unplugged the Christmas lights in the window, turned the radio and overhead lights off and moved the open sign to ‘closed’ by the time he reappeared.

Out of all the stores in all the towns, in all of Indiana…

This had to be fates giving her the nudge she needed to make amends. Or maybe she had just listened to one too many sappy Christmas songs that day, and they rotted her brain. A hundred ways to say hello ran through her head, but any notion she had about where the conversation would take them went out the window the second he opened his mouth.

“Am I keeping you?” he called out across the darkened store, leisurely taking his time walking back, making it clear he didn’t give a shit either way… slower than molasses in January.

Despite the actual answer and her simmering annoyance at his choice of greeting, she shook her head 'no’ and peered at the contents he carried up to the checkout with wide eyes.

“You okay there?”

Hopper scowled at the question, shifting the weight in his arms. She raised an eyebrow at him, pushing for an answer.

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” he finally muttered, looming over her on the other side of the counter now, but Joyce didn’t back down.

She looked pointedly at him. His arms were full; a 40 of Jim Beam and Stoli were both tucked into the crook of one arm, with a box of wine wedged under the other. He expertly balanced three six packs and a stack of styrofoam cups on top of two flats of beer.

“‘Lot of booze for one person. Even you.“

She meant for her comment to come off as light-hearted teasing, but it fell flat. Rolling his eyes at her concern, Hopper dropped the beer on the counter with a thud, stacking the other items around unceremoniously. One of the bottles rolled towards the edge of the counter, and Joyce thankfully caught it before it could fall, placing it gently down next to his other items.

She didn’t mean to pry, but as long as she had known him, Hopper was possibly the most stubborn man she had ever met. If he were suffering, he’d die before he’d let on, and that worried Joyce more than she cared to admit. Over the last few Christmases, she had watched him from afar, a silent witness to his inner struggles dealing with the holiday season. She could only imagine how he felt, especially since she could barely cope herself after her own divorce. But to lose your only child too? She couldn’t bear the thought.

Even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms, and even if he drove her up the wall when they did see each other, he was still (kind of) her friend. She felt compelled to ask, if only for her peace of mind.

"It’s not all for me, Joyce. It’s the PD Christmas potluck tonight,” his irritation peaked, and he waved the sleeve of cups at her with a wry look on his face, like it should have been obvious.

“Oh, well my mistake then,“ she snapped her mouth shut, feeling stupid she didn’t think of that first and even more so for assuming. Joyce grabbed the cups from Hopper and found the price tag, focusing on the task to take her mind off the fact she could sense his eyes watching her every move.

"Gimme a pack of camels too,” he sniffed. Two twenties were flicked at her across the counter, like he was leaving cash on the nightstand. Like he didn’t even know her at all.

Joyce’s blood started to boil.

“Say please,” she snapped, glaring at him. It wasn’t what Hopper said; it was how he said it.

He locked eyes with Joyce, not budging, and now it was her turn to roll her eyes. It didn’t take long before she gave in and grabbed his pack of smokes from the drawer under the counter, adding them to the total, punching the price in with a tepid fury. So much for peace on earth and goodwill to men. Not only was he making her late, but he was ruining her mood now too.

Her cheeks smoldered, but Joyce held her tongue, fighting the burning desire to tell him off. A small part of her recalled that this is what always happened between them: she’d go out of her way to initiate the conversation, trying her best to be pleasant, if not a bit friendly (sometimes even a bit flirty). Hop would instantly go on the defense with an ignorant remark or two. She would retort to start the fight, and then they were off to the races. Both would walk away smarting, leaving all the words they shouldn’t have said hanging in the air for all of Hawkins to see. Everyone in town knew that Joyce and Hopper were on the outs and had been for a long while.

But after all the damn self-help books she had read that year, it finally clicked: They didn’t have to ride on this merry-go-round of hurt feelings anymore. She knew she could break the cycle if she really wanted to. Truth be told, she missed his companionship, and if there was one thing Joyce was in need of right now, it was a friend… maybe even something more. It drove her batty how much she wanted to console him as a friend, throttle him like a nemesis and rip his clothes off all at the same damn time.

Clearing her throat, she spoke up again, refusing to give in to his silent treatment, “Got any plans for the holidays?”

He grunted in response, making her venture a guess that was a “no,” or “none of your business,” — possibly both.

Joyce carried on, fidgeting with the box of wine. She looked for the price, instead of at him, “Well, the boys and I are planning a big breakfast on Christmas morning, um, since I work Christmas Eve. You should stop by. I mean, if you don’t have anything else going on…“ She side-eyed his reaction and set the wine aside.

Hopper’s eyes narrowed. His mouth drew tight at her words as if he was considering it for a split second, before he declined with a curt, "No, thank you.” Didn’t even bother with an excuse.

The outright dismissal took her back by surprise before she quickly recovered with a half-shrug, half-smile.

“Oh okay, maybe next year,” she said, just hoping she didn’t look as defeated as she felt.

With a sober nod, Hopper let his attention fall to the items on the counter between them. He passed them off to Joyce without another word as she rang them up, one by one. With each button pressed, the silence between them grew more and more awkward. Joyce expected some pushback from Hopper, but this was really taking the cake. Here she was, putting herself out there, doing her best to extend an olive branch during the holiday season, and he was still holding a grudge. Un-be-lievable.

She wasn’t about to give up, though. She wanted to make it clear to him that this little game they continued to play year after year had gone on long enough. They were both adults now, and it was time to put their differences aside. Forgive and forget.

Joyce would melt Hopper’s little Grinch heart, even if it killed her.

She gave him his receipt and change, slowing down to let the tips of her fingers pause over the palm of his hand. Joyce lingered for a slow, taciturn moment until she finally caught his eye, her thumb brushing over his. Hopper’s steely demeanor softened at her touch, if only for a brief moment in time, and there it was: a fleeting glimpse of the man she once knew.

Her voice was quiet when she spoke again, "Merry Christmas, Hop.”

His acknowledgment was barely there, but unmistakable. He gave a subtle squeeze back before pocketing the change.

To an outsider, it would have looked like nothing more than a momentary pause between acquaintances or perfect strangers, but to them, it was a spark of hope on the longest night of the year.

“Merry Christmas, Joy,” the words tumbled from his mouth like he didn’t want to say it, but she could tell he meant it nevertheless. And just as quickly as the moment fell over them, it passed.  

Without another word, he opened the pack of Camels and lit up, ignoring the ‘No-Smoking’ sign taped to the wall behind Joyce. She didn’t bother to say anything, watching, amused as a puff of smoke enveloped him in the dark of the store, like a magician making his grand exit. Loading up his arms, he took one last glance to make sure he got everything and was on his way. Her heart was heavy to watch him go, but what could she do? Chase after him? Beg him to talk it out? Force him to be her friend again? It was going to have to be on his terms if anything, and it was clear to her now that he wasn’t ready to make nice.

The door swung open before Hop could reach it, and Will ran into Melvald’s only to stop short, practically colliding head first into the beer.

“Chief,” Jonathan nodded politely.

“Hi uh, M-mister Hopper,” Will smiled up at the tall man he recognized as his mom’s old friend before running over to her counter to grab his hat from her outstretched hand.  

"Hi baby,” Joyce beamed at her youngest, admiring his costume. “You look great! Very Dickens!”

Will proudly donned the pageboy hat for his mother’s approval and grabbed the crutch. “Thank you! Love you! See you at school,” he called to Joyce over his shoulder, running back to where Jonathan was offering his assistance to Hopper.

“Need a hand with that, sir?” The teen didn’t bother to wait for a response from the police chief, shifting his camera bag upon his shoulder, and grabbing the bottles off the top of the stack, while Will held the door for them.

Hopper could only watch it happen; he was bombarded by the trio of Byers’ and completely caught off guard. He looked down at the two smiling boys in front of him before looking back at Joyce, who was glowing at the sight of her polite, little men.

“Fine,” he huffed. “Take these, too.”

Jonathan grabbed the six-packs without hesitation from under Hopper’s arm and started for the door while Joyce stifled a giggle, drawing the attention of all three.

“So I’ll uh, meet you boys at the school in twenty,” she told her sons before turning to Hop. “Nice to see you,” she smiled, her heart fluttering just the tiniest bit when it was returned.

It might not have been a complete reconciliation like Joyce had hoped for, but she would accept it for what it was; a Christmas armistice in their war. With it came a renewed sense of hope that 1983 could be a fresh start for the both of them.

The boys led Hopper to his marked Chevy parked out in front of the store. The snow was finally tapering off as the temperature started to drop, the tiny flakes sparkling in the soft glow of Hawkin’s street lamps wrapped up in pretty red bows. The street was empty and quiet, the fresh snowfall making it seem like they were the only ones left in town.

"You in a play or something, Tiny Tim?” Hopper called out to the younger Byers boy, who was running ahead outside the store.

“Yeah!” Will turned back to him at the truck and raised the crutch in the air as Hopper approached. “How’d you know?”

“Just a guess… Your mom’s real proud, I can tell,” Hopper smirked at the kid, despite himself. “Y’know, she used to star in all the school plays when she was your age, too.” He glanced behind the Byers boys to the storefront, where he could see Joyce locking the door behind them. The urge to go back and talk to her was pulling at him now, but he stayed firmly in place.

Jonathan opened the trunk and started to load up the back of the Blazer while the Chief was distracted, exchanging a look with his little brother. Turning back to Hopper, Jonathan grabbed the last of the load from the older man and his attention.

“We have an extra ticket, you know.”

“Oh?” Hopper mumbled, Jonathan’s words breaking him from his daze. Firing the styrofoam cups in behind the booze, he slammed the trunk hatch and took a long drag off the cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth. He glanced back, but she was gone.

“It was supposed to be for my dad but… he’s not coming,” Will was looking glum, poking holes in the fluffy snow with the end of Tiny Tim’s crutch.

Rage prickled the inside of Hopper’s chest as he took in the sad sight. He instantly wished he knocked Lonnie’s teeth in a lot sooner than he did.

“You should come,” Jonathan perked up, offering Lonnie’s ticket to the other man. “She won’t mind.”

Hopper highly doubted Joyce would agree with that statement. But then again, after her little grab at attention in Melvald’s just now… maybe the kid was right.

“Yeah! You should come,” Will perked up, echoing his brother with a sly look. It was suddenly very apparent the angle was to make him Joyce’s date for the night.

Nope, sorry boys, not happening. Maybe in another life.

“Ah thanks, I’d really like to,” he lied, fishing for the keys in his pocket and a quick excuse. “But I have to get this stuff back to the police department. People are waiting on me, important police business, y’know?” he dropped the last of his smoke to the ground and stamped it out.

“Merry Christmas boys, and thanks for the help.”

He gave the Byers boys a small salute as he climbed into the truck, frantic to get out of there and away from the barrage of emotions his little errand brought with it. The Chevy’s engine roared as it turned over in the cold, making the boys take a step back onto the curb. He didn’t mean to be a jerk, but he was walking a fine line here; he had boundaries to maintain.

Through the fogged up windows, he watched them share a look of disappointment and turn to go.

Hopper’s blackened, frozen heart tapped on his chest to remind him it was still there and he heaved a sighed. Rolling his window down, he called out to Will & Jonathan, “Hey, how about a raincheck for next year?”

"Sure,” Will brightened up instantly.

Hopper choked back his smirk, “Break a leg tonight, kid.”

Jonathan chuckled, and Will waved the crutch again with a laugh, “Thanks!”

There — that could be his good deed for the Byers family this holiday season. Even if he couldn’t keep the raincheck next year, the gesture was enough. While Hopper let his diesel warm up, he watched the boys climb into Lonnie’s beat-up, old Ford.

They were good kids. It was clear Joyce had done her absolute best in raising them on her own over the last three years, even if it was only to spite the asshole who fathered them. Hop was sure Sara and Joyce’s youngest would have made great friends, too. A twinge of sorrow hit him at the realization they never even got the chance to meet.

The brothers waved to him once more as they pulled out of the parking stall, leaving just him and Joyce, the only cars parked on Main Street. Deciding it was a good a time as any to chain smoke, he lit up again and idled, getting lost in his thoughts.

Why did he have to stop there instead of the gas station or grocery store? Sure, Melvald’s was the closest store to the police station, but if he really wanted to, he could have gone out of his way to avoid her altogether. Hopper would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t stop in to check up on her, to test the waters. He figured if he was feeling lonely, she was probably lonely too…

Turns out, he wasn’t ready. Seeing Joyce only brought the bad feelings bubbling up to the surface, making him feel worse. Now he had all these unfettered emotions to deal with, and lord knows, it would take weeks to get them back in their bottle.

With nearly twenty years of history between them, they had been through so much. Forgive and forget was easier said than done at this point. There were some words you couldn’t take back, and some things you just couldn’t forgive, and it would take a lot more than some simple pleasantries or a soft touch to make him change his mind and start rebuilding all the bridges Joyce Byers burned.

The cigarette had burned down when the chime of the bells jostled him out of his thoughts, his eyes darting to the rearview. Joyce was locking the deadbolt and hadn’t yet noticed that he was still there. He stubbed the butt out in the ashtray, watching closely as she turned around and saw his truck still parked in front of her store. There was no hiding from her now.

She paused, blinking once, twice. The corner of her lips curled.

Hopper’s eyes flicked to the passenger side mirror to watch as she began walking towards her car, head down, stifling a satisfied smirk in her purse.

Watching Joyce struggle to find her keys through the frost-bitten truck windows was a strange mix of bitter and sweet for Hopper. It was a familiar sight, almost comforting, like shaking up a snowglobe and watching it settle. A shimmer of frost and foggy breath swirled around her head like a halo, and he swore she glowed like a goddamn angel under the lamplight. He fought the impulse to roll down the window and say something, anything, knowing full well a she-devil still lurked underneath that pretty little exterior.

Danger, Will Robinson. Time to tread lightly, think logically and not let his festering feelings get the better of him.

She threw him one last look over the roof of the Pinto to let him know she saw him watching her, before climbing in and starting her car. It was the same look that she always shot him right before ripping him to shreds: exasperated, like she was tired of his shit. Hopper had grown to hate that look, yet it still wound him up all the same. She was teasing him now.

He shook his head, shaming her for playing games.

Joyce shook her head back and flipped him the bird.

Hop narrowed his eyes at her. Very mature.

She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out, hesitating before finally waving goodbye. Hopper chuckled to himself as Joyce put the car in reverse, a serene sense of nostalgia settling over him then.

She must have felt it too. Glancing back to him one more time, a tiny smile played about her lips.

He nodded a simple farewell, and she returned it before driving off towards the school, retreating into the dark and silent night. Once she disappeared around the corner, he started to make his way back to the party at the station, turning the radio on to distract himself.

Hopper wasn’t quite ready to let Joyce back in just yet. Even if they could go back to being friends… Did he really think he could be open with her? Allow himself to be vulnerable? Not when it still felt like everything he ever loved had been taken away from him too soon (including her, more than once).

He’d see how the new year panned out, but he wasn’t sure if he could ever shake this feeling it might never be the same again.

But, dammit if he didn’t miss her anyway.