#muffin man investigations

[schoenpepper]

Teeth (5 Seconds of Summer)

Intro: It's nothing but a modern rendition of Romeo and Juliet to you. But Jade will twist the narrative into Bonnie and Clyde, if it means he'll get his hands on the one he loves.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread it's too long for me to give a fuck, blood, gore-ish, death (minor charac), bad bad things, criminals, Jade and Floyd are warnings of their own, implied shmexy times, 100% inaccurate interpol description but it was that or the Red Room from marvels idk maybe the kingsman, the fish mafia are verrrrry bad people here ok, but reader doesnt care, betrayal

A/N: Did I fall in love with Jade halfway into writing this? Of course not. I fell in love with Jade a whileeeee ago. Anyway, this is the first installment of my Twisted Harmonies series, a bunch of songfics with different characters and plots and universes.

Masterlist

Some days you're the only thing I know

Only thing that's burning when the nights grow cold

Can't look away, can't look away

Beg you to stay, beg you to stay, yeah

Aren't you just a darling little thing?

Jade isn't Azul's right hand man for nothing; he sees through your facade all too easily. A little too naive for the sexy outfit you're wearing and a little too innocent for the foxy persona you've put up. The police force had sent lots of undercover agents before. Unfortunately for them, none had been as interesting as you.

He watches you stumble onto the seat next to him. You order a drink and meet his eyes, giving him a charming smile.

Ah.

He understands now.

You weren't sent as a mistake. You were sent because even your superiors saw an overflowing charisma that you yourself didn't seem to notice. They were likely betting on him being drawn to you (and you having better acting skills). They've underestimated him again.

Jade thinks he's too far gone to be a gentleman now, but he chuckles and offers to pay for your pina colada. You accept with a glint in your pretty eyes, and he congratulates himself for picking up a cute little plaything for the next few months. He hears out the alias you have and listens to your cover story with a close-lipped smile. When he leads the conversation to other places, he takes note of when you perk up and start shaking off the person you were forced to be in order to get closer to him. "You like that movie too? That's awesome! I thought I was the only person who knew what it was."

"It's definitely one of my favorite films, but it's not too popular, hm?"

"Right." You pout and huff so adorably, he might just take you where you're sat. He doesn't think you're supposed to like the things you're saying you like, but he enjoys seeing you mess up, if nothing else. "You know," Jade takes a sip of his martini, "I have a copy of it on DVD, if you'd like to come to my place and watch it. Maybe stay for the night...maybe have breakfast in the morning...?" He sees you light up and you seem to finally remember your mission, pushing down the bubbly and energetic rookie and projecting out an image of this mature and seductive force of nature.

It's just too funny.

He drives you to his small villa at the edge of town and he pops the CD into the DVD player. He wasn't lying when he said he liked the movie, and he enjoys hearing your commentary on it because it brings him new insights about the plot as well as you. After the movie, he takes you to his bedroom (like a gentleman 💙) and even cooks you breakfast in the morning. Muffins and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. A part of his attention is on you as you eat breakfast blearily, but most of it is in the file he has on hand while drinking his morning coffee.

[Name: Y/N L/N]

[Status: Recent graduate of the X police academy, honor student]

[Threat level: Unknown]

Jade picks up his pen, looks on as you burn your tongue on your coffee, and jots down a note.

[Threat level: Unknown (near zero, requires further investigation)]

Sometimes you're a stranger in my bed

Don't know if you love me, or you want me dead

Push me away, push me away

Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay, yeah

The second time you meet up with your target is on a "date". You'd spent hours in front of the mirror just to look your most "seductive", yet Jade barely even bats an eye. He picks you up from the apartment you were assigned in his swanky, expensive, customized Rolls Royce and drives you both to this upscale 3 Michelin star restaurant in the middle of the city. You feel slightly uncomfortable because of all the haughty uppity-ness of the people in the other tables, but Jade's gloved hand is placed on the small of your back as he walks with you to the table he'd reserved. "Sorry, I'm not too used to places like these." You smile awkwardly at Jade.

And berate yourself internally because you're supposed to be mature and experienced and whatever.

"Nonsense dear, we're not here to keep up appearances." Thankfully, he's always a very nice person (if you ignore him being one of the leaders of possibly the biggest organized crime group in the world). He even pulls your chair out for you and everything. "I just wish for you to have an enjoyable time. Now tell me about the types of dishes you like, and perhaps any allergies?"

"Oh, I don't have any allergies. But I like chicken, and mushrooms!" You grin at him happily.

He pauses at your words, which makes you think that maybe you said something wrong, causing you to bow your head and stare at the French squiggles you just can't understand on the menu you're holding.

"I like mushrooms too."

The smile he gives you is all too blinding. You've always known he was rather pretty, but seeing him smile like this makes you aware of his insane face card. Him liking mushrooms wasn't on the file (even the international police force doesn't have much on the Leech brothers' files, much less Ashengrotto's), but you're glad you have something else to talk to him about. 

"I even grow them myself."

Your jaw drops and you have to stop yourself from barreling over the table and onto him as words just start pouring out of your mouth. "Seriously? That's so cool! Where do you grow them? Did you learn by yourself? Can you teach me? Do you think I can grow some too? Oh, wait!" You clear your throat and lean back on your chair. You're blowing your cover again, you just know it. "I mean, that sounds cool. Apologies for rambling."

Jade laughs and waves you off.

"No, I like that you're so passionate. You've been to my home before, perhaps you'd enjoy going back after dinner? I'll show you my terrariums."

"Awesome!"

You'll remember to keep up your disguise later.

Your waiter comes by with recommendations and wine, and your date is too sweet with how he constantly asks for your opinion. When you show any form of hesitance, he easily helps you out whether it be with ordering your entree or asking for another plate. Conversation flows too naturally with the teal-haired man and dinner leads to checking his terrariums, to staying up too late drinking sips of his stash of red wine while he helps you make a terrarium of your own, to passing out on his bed next to him.

When you wake up the next day, you realize you forgot to probe for information.

Oh well.

You can always see Jade next time.

Call me in the morning to apologize

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes

Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

Everyday, you get more and more delectable.

"Whatcha' watchin', Jade?" Floyd leans over his shoulder to peer at the monitor in front of him. On the screen is you, oh lovely, beautiful, adorable you, in a skin tight suit made of a fabric that clings to your every curve so wonderfully. You do a turn to evade your opponent and land a kick on their abdomen. "Eh? Who's this spiky little pufferfish? New toy o' yours?"

"Not a toy." Even Jade is surprised by the words that leave his lips, but it curls into a sickeningly sweet smile as he continues. "They're cute, aren't they? Feisty."

You send the other person to the edge of the ring with a punch.

"What, so you'll keep 'em?"

When your opponent rushes back to you, you do a series of beautiful and swift movements to bring them down on their knees. Admittedly, the smallest part of him is rather jealous by the way you step on the person's chest to keep them down.

"Absolutely. They'll make a cute pet~"

"Hah, you're so weird." Floyd rolls his eyes and stands back up properly. "The Interpol'll notice your cameras soon, y'know they're not that stupid to keep their own training grounds unchecked."

"That's why I'm recording, of course."

"Freak."

"You wound me, truly."

For what he'd said about keeping you as a pet, he gets annoyingly ticked off at the sight of you helping up your comrade slash sparring partner. The way you laugh so unrestrainedly and smile so freely, in ways you refuse to do in front of him—your mission target—made him narrow his eyes and memorize the face of that friend of yours. Perhaps the frustration bubbling in his chest was only because his pet was rather uncooperative at the moment, still stubbornly holding onto the shredded pieces of your shoddy disguise. With that, he has no chance of seeing your many facets in the way you'd present them to a friend, to someone closer; because he dislikes that alias very much.

(He'll pull the Y/N L/N out of you sooner than later.)

"Whatever, just make sure to clean up or Azul's gonna be pissed."

"Of course."

He watches your figure leave the training ground and the camera's range.

Jade is a capable man who enjoys games.

And what game would be more fun than turning a police dog against its owners?

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

"And, open your eyes!"

You fidget with your hands nervously, trying to hide your anxiousness with a proud grin. You glance at the spread you'd poured your time and effort into; a typical red plaid blanket splayed out over the grass under the shade of a large tree, a wicker basket with its contents already laid out on the blanket. Finger sandwiches and little jars of pasta and lemon iced tea and tiny cake slices in glass tupperwares. You look back at Jade who you'd asked to dress more casually today for your (you can't really count anymore at this point) date, wondering if he dislikes your little surprise.

"Um, I know it seems sudden, but I made it all myself." You blush and kneel down on the blanket to grab the utensils. "Because, the button mushrooms you helped me grow, they grew really nice and big so I chopped them up and put them into a bolognese, so I thought maybe you'd like to try my cooking!" You feel so embarrassed because why is Jade still so quiet holy shit, though the shame fades when he tugs you into his arms.

"Jade...?"

"Apologies." He pulls away slightly to kiss your forehead. "I am very touched by the thought. I appreciate your effort, my dear, and I look forward to tasting your cooking."

You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

It had felt like a chore the first few weeks, but touching him, kissing him, loving him is starting to feel good. Natural. Right.

It's not. But it feels right.

"You better, I was up from four a.m., you know?" You let out a grumble when he hums so happily, swaying you in his arms. "So next date, you owe me your cooking too."

"Of course, my dear."

"With no poisonous mushrooms?"

"I don't recall agreeing to that condition."

It's so peaceful when he gives you his commentary on your dishes and gives you advice regarding the iced tea you'd made, and there's such a lovely calmness when you take a nap with him after eating, curled up into each other under the shade, your head on his chest and his legs around your own. Everything else fades away when he helps you pack up your jars and tupperwares into your wicker basket and drives you home.

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles with a close-eyed smile.

"Goodbye, my dear. Think of me always."

You close the door in his face so he doesn't see the blush on yours.

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

There's filth in the room, he can feel it with every pair of eyes that is shamelessly drinking in the sight of you. A polite curve to the lips, arm wrapped securely around you, he walks into the gala with the feeling of his favorite handgun digging into his thigh. He expects the night to go flawlessly; Azul would never throw an event that would end up in shambles, and your little organization is far too wary of this party being a trap to actually make a move. It doesn't change the bitter taste lingering in the back of his throat when these greasy middle-aged folks that Azul coined as "business partners" stared at you with their tongues lolling out like mutts sniffing a new treat.

Say, would his boss mind if he committed a little bit of homicide?

"Jade?"

Ah, but you look so sweet, looking up at him nervously. You must recognize the ugly faces, yes? Each and every one in the interconnected web of hell that Azul ruled over. "Don't worry darling, they're all friendly." Jade smiles, a genuine one, sweeping a glance over the crowd. "I'll make sure of it for you."

You seem comforted enough by his words, yet you still slink away into his side.

(Don't you know he's one of the most dangerous people here?)

"Azul, Floyd, this is my darling." He feels you freeze up when he introduces you to his brother and friend boss. His fingers run up and down your back in a soothing motion as he watches gears turn in the two's heads. "My love, this is Azul Ashengrotto. He's my superior of sorts. And this is Floyd, my twin brother."

The word 'love' has their eyes widen for just a split second.

Azul reaches out a hand to shake yours. "My, it's a pleasure to meet you. Jade has told us a lot about you." You smile nervously and shake his hand. Before his brother can full on tackle you and likely interrogate you about your relationship status, Jade gently pushes you off to the crowd with a nasty glare behind your back towards the piranhas circling.

"Do socialize for a bit, dear. I have a few things I need to talk about with them." He doesn't mention the bodyguards he'd gestured to keep an eye on you.

"So," Azul crosses his arms, "love, hm?"

Jade lets the polite smile fade from his face as he looks at them, one gloved hand on his chest. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"You said pet!" Floyd huffs, shaking Jade by the arms. "No fair! What's with the secrets, Jaaaaade? You were supposed to tell me everything! When did you get a partner?"

"I wasn't lying, I just started seeing them differently." He consoles his brother with a chuckle.

"And how are you planning to keep it up?"

"Pardon?"

"Yeah, that person's a noobie undercover, right? Ya' can't hold on to some lousy loyal cop." Floyd rolls his eyes. "Don't be silly Jade, that loyalty's no good if it ain't yours."

"I'm sure he's already thought of that."

"But he doesn't seem prepared to let 'em go, though? A pet's fine, but if it's somethin' else, it'll be trouble."

Jade smiles again. "Not a pet anymore, no, but it's not that hard to train a lover either, is it?"

"What, you truly think that cop will fall for you enough that they'll throw away their principles and ideals for you?" Azul scoffs. "Without torture?"

"You think they won't?"

Azul and Floyd share a look then shrug in unison.

"I don't think there's a lot you can't do, to be honest."

"I don't care, long as you get those annoying do-gooders outta my face, capiche?"

Some days you're the best thing in my life

Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Then you turn into somebody I don't know

And you push me away, push me away, yeah

It's boring.

God, it's so boring.

If you had known you would be subjecting yourself to petty small talk and the lecherous eyes of sleazy men twice, maybe three times your age, you would've clung on harder to Jade and forced yourself into whatever conversation he'd needed to have with Azul and Floyd. But then again, you don't think you have enough calm to face the Azul Ashengrotto without shaking in your boots (he's rich and evil and super duper powerful!). Floyd you can sort of handle, you do well with violence. Jade you slept with the night you met, so there wasn't all too much about him that still made you nervous. But Azul, that man's smart. You can't deal with wits like that—wits that gave him claws to dig his way out of whatever hellhole he was born in and right to the top of the food chain. He'll blow your cover all too easy.

You shift your champagne to the other hand and nod at your conversation partner.

No you don't get what he's bragging about, and you really don't care. This place is filled to the brim with the very wretches of society, faces you know from the red files you kept at headquarters. They parade around in human skins and even now, not a single person has said anything that even remotely implied ill-gotten wealth or human trafficking or whatever, so you know they're really good at keeping up face.

This one, he's getting a little too handsy.

"I can show you a good time."

You raise your hand to smash the champagne flute into his ugly face (Jade would definitely cover for you).

When did you get so confident?

Two big and bulky men in suits appear out of nowhere—they might be the asshole's bodyguards—but no, they restrain the other man and faster than you can blink, you're alone again with only the echoes of his shouting. You catch Jade's gaze on you from the corner of the room where he's still with Azul and Floyd.

His lips curl up in mischief and he winks.

Looks like your confidence wasn't misplaced, at least.

Call me in the morning to apologize

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes

Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

"Jade, baby, I think we're lost."

"Nonsense, my pearl. I've been here a million times."

"You should've taken the left at the exit!"

"No, this is a shortcut."

"Jade!"

"Yes, my lovely backseat driver?"

He watches from the corner of his eye as you hold onto your seatbelt for dear life. "Where are we going?! It's not in the map. I swear if you actually get us lost—"

"What will you do?"

You pout at him. "Cry."

"Don't be so dramatic my love, I told you, I've been there before." Jade muses, one hand on the wheel and the other gently patting your thigh. He takes another turn and chuckles. "See? Look at the GPS, we're back on track."

When the Range Rover comes to a stop near a familiar campsite (he was not taking the Rolls Royce into the woods, thank you very much), you immediately hop out of your seat and start to fiddle with the items you'd brought with you. He gets out to help you carry the foldable tent and set it up not too far from the car. "Jade, did you buy new sleeping bags? These weren't the ones we used when we went to the lake." He watches on happily as you figure out there's only one, two-person sleeping bag.

"Wow. Are you cutting corners or are you just that clingy?"

"Whatever do you mean, love?" Jade turns to take out the coats he'd brought along, forcing you into one of them as you whined about its puffiness. Unfortunately, he'd rather not have a frozen lover to roast over the bonfire with the marshmallows. He intertwines your hand with his as you walk side by side on the trail, and he talks to you about safety procedures when hiking ("Do try not to separate, dear.") and protocols ("If you see a bear when I'm not around, say your last prayers." "What if you're around?" "I have a gun if it's really aggressive, don't worry about it." "Why do you have a gun, Jade?") and what kind of mushrooms would be safe to pick without gloves ("In general, if it's colorful, best leave it to me.").

He has such a great time hiking with his cute partner, even if you don't notice his camera taking snapshots every few minutes or so.

With a sack full of mushrooms and other flora, the both of you make your way back to the campsite. He starts on a fire while you set up the foldable chairs and prepare the ingredients for whatever would be dinner. He thinks it should be the mushrooms you had just gathered together, you think it should be something actually edible, and he relents if only because you compromise to add some non-poisonous mushrooms into a stew for dinner. The night ends with your intertwined bodies in the sleeping bag, Jade peppering kisses all over your face as you giggle and try to squirm out of your constraints (the sleeping bag and his arms).

"Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, Jade."

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

"I know how to shoot a gun."

—Were the words that spiked your competitiveness with your boyfriend. It wasn't your fault, really, but when that frustratingly pretty face got that smug look that just seemed like it was doubting your abilities, you felt the need to prove yourself. You weren't the brightest bulb in the, ugh, in the string of Christmas lights around the pine tree? But! You prided yourself on your ability to fight. Whether that be with a gun or a knife or just with your bare fists, you'd slammed foes several times bigger and stronger than you to the ground by virtue of pure skill. So to hear Jade questioning one of your rare mastered skills (he would probably argue otherwise) made your blood boil.

So. Shooting range.

You know he's experienced with guns, but you're pretty sure a sniper rifle is new even for him. You help him assemble it and get into proper position.

"My, how scandalous, my darling instructor. In broad daylight too?"

You grimace at his words.

"I'm just trying to get you into the right position!"

"Oh? And what position would be to your preference?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I feel like I've asked you the same question before too—"

"Jade, there are people—"

"—Did you say missionary or—"

"Oh my fucking gods."

"—Perhaps you said you preferred riding?"

You glare harshly at your boyfriend who was giving you the sweetest smile you'd ever seen on his cute face (no doubt to spite you), and you look around frantically in search of other people. Thankfully you're alone. But it doesn't stop you from repeatedly (softly) hitting his shoulder while he laughed at your expressions, sharp teeth showing. You poke a finger to the corner of his lips, which he quickly nibbles on. "What are you, a dog?" He pulls away just to lean back in and kiss your lips.

"Arf~"

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Your phone rings in the dead of night. Jade groans and pats you awake to answer, and you console him with a kiss before looking at the contact.

It says 'That Guy'.

Jade murmurs out a question while you hurriedly leave the bed to put on a robe. "I just need to take this call, baby. I'll be right back." You answer the phone out of earshot, leaning against the railing of the balcony. A familiar voice travels through your phone and right to your heart. It stirs memories and realizations you're not quite ready to face again; the biting chill of the wind feels similar to the worry gnawing at you. "Agent L/N."

"...Reporting, sir."

It's still muscle memory, the response and the subconscious salute. 

(Is it still muscle memory to defend yourself against Jade, the way you were taught to?)

"How is your mission?"

You bite back the urge to say 'What mission?'. Ahhh Y/N L/N you're just so stupid, aren't you? First ever mission, your first big responsibility, your first big chance to be someone worth something. You look back at the bedroom and catch a glimpse of Jade's shadow on the bed. You were supposed to worm out information but gods, you've never even tried. It's like every single time he's with you your brain starts to melt into a hot pink sludge. "I'm working on it, sir." You lie because there's nothing else you can do. Where can you run when Jade finds out you were only using him? Where can you run when the Interpol thinks of you as a dead man because they believe you've betrayed them?

Where can you go when everything comes crashing down?

"It's only to be expected, such a man should be awfully guarded even against his own. Keep up the good work and remember to report back when you find anything."

Hah. Jade was barely ever guarded against you, if at all. You could've tapped his electronics at any time or tracked every car he owns. You just...never did. And the realization forces you to redraw your lines. You know exactly where your loyalty lies, don't you? You end the call and look at the lights in the distance; the city is never asleep. It's bursting with neon signs and traffic lights, but the noise doesn't reach the safe haven that's Jade's little villa. Start to make plans. Rethink it all over. You walk back into the bedroom and further, to the guest room you'd never once used but has way too much of your things in. In a suitcase pocket that's invisible to the naked eye, you pick up a packet of tiny buttons.

You hope Jade won't miss you too much in bed when you make a trip to the garage.

Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

You're looking at me like you don't know who I am

Blood on my shirt, heart in my hand

Still beating

"Happy birthday, Jade!"

"Happy birthday, Floyd."

There's blood in the air, early morning in November. Jade looks up from his newspaper at his brother who was happily dragging a limp body into his pristine living room, sack over its head. "Oh dear, I hope you've called for cleanup. I have a date later today and I would rather not have Y/N turned off the moment I open the front door." He frowns slightly and puts the newspaper down. With careful steps, he approaches the unconscious person and yanks the sack off its face. "Is this your birthday present for me, brother?"

"Yep!"

"Well," Jade smirks, kicking the head awake. "I appreciate the effort."

"Make sure to pay me back, 'kay~?"

"Of course."

The young woman stirs awake, but his eardrums are saved by the duct tape that Floyd had slapped over her mouth. She looked around in a panic and struggled against the ropes binding her wrists and ankles together. "Hello there, Agent Assyra. You're my darling Y/N's favorite sparring partner, aren't you?" Jade whispers softly with a polite smile. A hand gently caresses her hair while she squirms. "I think you'll be good entertainment for me today. Oh, Floyd must have exerted quite a bit of effort bringing you to me, I ought to meet his expectations."

"Damn right." Floyd whines as he collapses on the sofa. "That bitch put up a fucking fight. 'M still sore from her kicking, she just had to do it in stilettos, didn't she?"

"I can imagine. Floyd, pass me the box under the cushion."

Floyd hands him a small box with his favorite set of scalpels inside it. 

"Let's see, it's quite unhygienic to do it in the living room, but I don't plan to let you live too long anyway. I suppose Y/N and I will just have to settle for a hotel room tonight." He hums a merry little tune as he made small incisions in her skin, the blade easily digging through the flesh. "You must have a tracker somewhere in your bloodstream, let's find it, shall we? Oh, I've always wanted to dissect an Interpol agent."

"Why didn't you dissect your Y/N?"

"That's not very funny, Floyd." Jade chuckles. He cuts a line down her arm and watches the blood flow down his rug. "I'll have to remember to buy a new rug. Perhaps Y/N can help me shopping~"

"Bah, you're sooo whipped it's gross."

He makes another line on her leg, gently prodding at the layer of skin and looking for the tracker. "I am a man domesticated."

"Happy birthday—um, Jade...?"

He freezes at the front door being suddenly shoved open with a happy-turned-concerned voice, slowly looking at the person by the door. It's you. In a cute sweater with a big box in your hands, hair sprinkled with snow and eyes wide in horrified shock. "Uh oh." He hears Floyd giggle, and the girl under him moves around more to grab your attention. You look at the girl, then at Jade, then at the cake in your hands. Then at the girl again. "Assyra...?" She nods helplessly. He thinks you might run forward to help your fellow agent (who was clearly on the verge of death from severe bloodloss), but the only thing you do is look at the scalpel in Jade's hand, and back to his eyes. You maintain eye contact while you slowly put down your box and leave as if nothing happened.

"Guess you're single again. Sad."

He ignores his brother's words, running to the box you'd left behind.

Inside is a big cake that he assumes is homemade, half chocolate and half strawberry and whipped cream. It looks decent, and he could feel your efforts in the two-colored icing writing out a message on the top.

'Happy Birthday, Jade! Love you lots :D'

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Another pull of the trigger, another lifeless body falling to a heap on the ground. He looks on expressionlessly as Azul glances at him with a raised eyebrow before continuing to talk to the person whose lackey Jade had just killed.

"As you can see, Jade isn't feeling too patient today, so if you could just—"

He shoots another bullet, just barely grazing the man's ear before it enters the wall.

"Okay! I agree, I agree, forty percent, yes!" The man nods and signs the contract before scampering away with his (useless) guards. "While I do like a good deal, is there any explanation for your trigger happy behavior?" Azul looks at him in confusion. Floyd takes the offending firearm from his hand and pushes him to sit down on the armrest of Azul's big fancy chair.

"The little cop ghosted him, and he ain't too happy 'bout it." Floyd explains as he puts the gun on the table.

"They were supposed to run back." Jade finally speaks, brows furrowing. "The timing was off, it was an accident they weren't supposed to see. Their conditioning was incomplete and if their higher-ups catch a whiff of their feelings for me, they'll rewire my pearl back to being their little hound. They need to be back to me, and fast."

"Sorry, Jade, maybe I shoulda' brought that bitch in another time."

"It's not your fault." He sighs.

"Then? Why haven't you found them yet?"

Jade looks at Azul. "Have I become predictable? Because the men I've sent off, and the camera footage I've been keeping track of—all of them seem completely avoided. It's like they know my move two steps before I do it."

"Perhaps you've truly met your match."

"Or maybe your pearly's trapped at headquarters." Floyd smirks. "Let's go there! Like a field trip, except with guns and bombs."

"Absolutely not."

"Aww, Azul, you're no fun."

Jade leans back against the chair, looking at his phone lockscreen; a picture of the two of you cupping a mushroom with smiles on your faces. He hovers his thumb above your figure. He unlocks the screen to dial your number again. Like the previous one hundred and fifty two times, it only rings endlessly. Frustrated, Jade stands up, pockets his phone, and picks up his gun again. "Don't you have five more people to meet? Get them in." He snaps at Azul, and the man only pushes his glasses up and shrugs. He clicks a button and the door opens. In comes another greasy, balding, middle-aged loser with some eye candy on his arm, trying to look not so desperate.

Jade aims for his forehead.

"Oh dear, Jade's truly in a bad mood right now, Mr. Sanchez. Let's get this over with quickly before his finger slips." Azul drawls with a smirk, pushing the contract forward.

"Sign here, please."

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

"Whoop! On your left, Jaaaaade~"

He clicks his tongue and dodges accordingly, a flying metal bat hurtling through the air. The smoke and gasoline is choking, but the smell of blood could barely even make him flinch at this point. He turns to kick an incoming assailant in the gut, effortlessly catching a handgun thrown his way by his twin. "Jade! Grab the sparklies, okay?" Jade sighs and opens the sack, sweeping the mess of jewelry inside it and sealing it shut. Somehow, Floyd's idea of 'letting loose and forgetting cops that ghost you' was robbing a luxury jewelry store, just the two of them. Sibling bonding time, of sorts. While he normally wouldn't mind, he's been feeling all too ill without your presence.

"Oh pearl, when will you come back to me?"

He sighs listlessly. A shot is fired towards another guard before he goes to pick up a string of pearls and wear it around his neck. Everything just reminds him of you.

"Sirens, haha!"

At Floyd's signal, he lugs the sack over one shoulder and runs with his brother to the armored car they'd yanked from Azul. He hops into the driver's seat while throwing the 'sparklies' onto his brother's lap.

They don't get very far before a barricade of police cars force them to stop.

"That's no fun." Floyd pouts.

"Backup?"

"Nah, it's cool. Let's just spend a while in a jail cell, I wanna see Azul pop a vein, hehe~"

He could almost imagine Azul's reaction to them getting arrested. He shares a look with his twin and they hop out the car in unison, hands in the air and weapons thrown to the ground. His eyes widen when he realizes the person walking towards him with handcuffs was you.

"Jade Leech." You say sternly, tugging at his arms and cuffing his wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."

Someone else takes Floyd in.

You push him to a police car and just before you can walk off, he helplessly whispers to you. Not a cry for help, not a plea, no.

A soft, hopeful, sickly sweet "My love." that makes you stop for one moment. Just one.

Before you continue walking.

He lost the gamble.

And above all else—

He'd lost you.

Teeth

Teeth

Teeth

Never, never, never ever let go

Floyd's in a separate cell.

He's flattered, honestly. His own cell is so heavily guarded, cameras and guards everywhere, it makes him feel very important. But it's quite boring, only a bed, a sink, and a shoddily covered toilet. He thinks the clothes look horrendous, and he's patiently awaiting his dear boss who would never leave him nor his brother rotting in a maximum security prison for the rest of their lives. But hours pass by and he's getting rather antsy. How long would it take Azul to bust him out?

The lights go out.

He sinks into his little cot and looks out the tiny window. It's barely even dark and they expect him to go to sleep, somehow.

Who sleeps at 7 in the—

Boom!

He sits up with a grin. Seems like it wasn't scheduled after all.

There's the sounds of fighting and gunshots and explosions and screaming. It all quietens eventually, leaving him on the edge of his seat for whichever side came out on top. There's footsteps in the hallway. Blue tinted silvery hair and glasses hiding an annoyed glare—it's Azul. Floyd comes barreling in a second later. "Jade. I didn't expect your depression to be so bad you'd let yourself get arrested." His friend boss unlocks the door and he steps out with a stretch.

"My apologies. I must admit I was rather preoccupied with my loss."

"Then congratulations."

They walk down the halls littered with dead bodies and Azul's men making sure the dead bodies stayed dead.

"Pardon?"

"It was quite difficult getting through the bulletproof gate, much less just finding this hellhole. Top secret, off the grid, heavily guarded and everything."

"Well then, I thank you for your efforts."

They step out of the prison and back to the grounds.

"Yes yes, but they weren't all my efforts you know?"

He sees a familiar silhouette.

"This place is Interpol property, after all."

"Jade!" You run towards him and tackle him into a hug. He can barely believe his eyes, but he hugs you back so tight you start gasping for air.

"Why...?"

You smile. "My name's Y/N L/N, I killed that alias! I graduated from X police academy, but just recently, I leaked confidential information from the international police force to one of the biggest crime groups in the world. It was fun!"

"Fun?"

"Yeah, but now I'm wanted and have nowhere else to stay." You tug on his sleeve. "Stranger, you got an extra bedspace? I just escaped from getting killed by my former mentors and I'm all tuckered out."

He carries you in his arms and kisses you hard.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi again! Here's the second Henry Sherlock X Peaky idea I had if you wanted! It would be a Sister Holmes X Tommy Shelby where reader is Tom's secretary and has just stated dating him but hasn't told her family yet because she hasn't seen them in a while. Then maybe one day a girl (badly disguised as a boy) is caught snooping around the betting shop and as Arthur takes her to Tom's office for questioning the reader immediately clocks it as her little sister who a agreed to spy for Sherlock. Then reader finds him and is berating him for putting Enola in danger while Sherlock is mad about her ruining their cover because he's investigating Tom for a case and as their arguing the reader says she knows Tom didn't do it because he was with her at the time (maybe she reveals the hickies) and Sherlock just freezes and goes into big bro mode while the Shelby family is trying to figure out what's going on because for once they didn't commit this crime and they haven't heard about the readers family yet. And yeah! That was the other idea😂 idk which to send in so you can choose which you'd rather do! Feel free to change anything about them too! I just desire some Sherlock x Peaky goodness 😂 ❤️❤️ also I hope those weren't too long I just didn't know how to explain them shortly!

Have a great night/day/time! ❤️❤️ and remember: GO YOU!!

Hey Love,

Hope you enjoy this and thank you for waiting so long! Was away on vacation (realized I didn't post that I was away.) Thanks again for these requests! they were so fun!!!

Warnings: Mention of child trafficking/conflict between family / peaky blinders-related themes

You were tired after being up all night. The conditions were nothing to complain about though. You lay in bed thinking about the chaos that surrounded your boss, and your relationship to him. You knew he wasn’t always a good man. But just like the morning sun streaming through your curtains, your mind was hazy. 

This feeling was not something you had experienced before. Complete ease. You were relaxed when he was around, and you even enjoyed being around his family. The feeling was addictive and considering the family you were born into it wasn't a mystery how you had ended up with such an appetite. 

While the Shelby family could match your folks for chaos, they had a consuming warmth about them that was foreign to you.

You thought long and hard on your way to the betting shop. This emotion could be a result of lovemaking, you knew enough about brain chemistry to know that there was a scientific side to these things. But why were you so happy the rest of the time? Why were you becoming so attached to him and his family? 

You got to the betting shop and were thankful to see tea brewing in the kitchen upstairs. You poured a cup and grabbed a muffin from the counter before settling in at your desk. 

Your mind was finally distracted from trying to sort out your feelings. Relief flooded you as you tied your hair out of the way and dug into the various file folders. You were doing your favorite, well, second favorite thing. Analyzing data for patterns. This particular situation was close to your heart you wanted to find the evidence as quickly as possible. 

You were so consumed with compiling evidence that you didn't even notice that something had kicked up in the betting shop until Arthur had dragged the commotion to the front of your desk. 

He held a girl dressed in boy's clothes by the collar of her shirt. The girl was young with a face that resembled yours a great deal. Your stomach dropped and you weren't sure if you wanted to shout at him to take his hands off of her or die of embarrassment. 

Your own appearance was embarrassing enough, your hair was tied up in a scarf, and your thick-rimmed reading glasses probably only made your eyes look even wider than they were. 

“Enola?!” You hissed. Your whole nervous system kicked into high gear. She could have been killed. Arthur could have killed your baby sister. 

You stood up and Arthur was smart enough to release his grip on her. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She looked up at you with sad eyes, a trick that had been abused many times over the years of broken dolls and colored pencil scribbles on the pages of your books. 

“Arthur?! What on earth-” Polly shouted from upstairs. 

“Eh - Looks like it's being handled,” Arthur called back, giving you a wink. His face told you that he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling. Older sibling to older sibling, he was going to let you handle your sister. Rather than the alternative, which would have been to put her in the cellar till Thomas got back. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“Enola what the fuck.” Your voice was low and she gave up on looking sad. 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and you fought the urge to slap her. She gave you a meaningful look and slowly said “It’s family business” 

Arthur snorted slightly. Polly was coming down the stairs. 

“I called Thomas. Now what is going-” She started but you cut her off. 

“Enola, why are you here, I trust them with family business.” 

“Well, you shouldn't.” She snorted and you hated the arrogance that was radiating off of the girl. This attitude and performance lead you to the conclusion that Sherlock must have sent her. She was always hungry for his approval. 

“What does Sherlock want with them?” You asked firmly. Her eyes widened slightly but she brushed it off. 

“How long have you worked here?” She said giving you a cold look. 

“I’m the one interrogating you.” You reminded her. “Now where is Sherlock? I’ll just ask him myself.” 

Just then as if summoned he came through the doorway with Thomas. Your temper flared up and you gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself. 

“Could have just called me.” You said trying to keep the anger out of your voice. 

“You can’t really be trusted on this one.” He said in his usual unbothered tone. You knew that this mess was clearly for an ongoing case and that because you were employed here you couldn't be involved. But it hurt non the less. 

“Right.” You said narrowing your eyes. “Get it over with. Now.” You demanded, unsure if Arthur took a step closer toward you in an effort to show solidarity or if it was in case you ended up being a threat to the family. 

“Well, I’ve been employed by a family to investigate the Shelby family here. Yesterday it became an active murder investigation..” 

You watched an expression cross Thomas’s face and you wondered if he lied about that part of his life being packed away. You caught a look of confusion on Polly’s face that quickly turned into a stony mask. She didn't know what this was about, but she’d turn on you if it was necessary. 

“What family and when?” You said sharply. You felt Thomas’s cold eyes stay locked on you. 

“Harris, I placed the time of death around 8pm.” He bit back. 

“We were at dinner, I can account for his whereabouts for the whole evening. Before you accuse me of lying, I’ve been looking through all their books and paperwork.” You picked up the papers you had been collecting your findings on. You almost wanted to laugh at your luck, for once you had the upper hand. 

“Your employer didn't take too kindly to us after we refused an offer they made regarding the children at the orphanage.” Sherlock’s face paled slightly. “I’ve got more than enough evidence through the paperwork here to put them away for life. Human trafficking.” 

You both entered a famous Holmes staring contest and he knew that he’d messed up. You weren't expecting him to look so angry though. Sure when you were children he would get mad like this. You hoped he was angry at the horrible crimes being committed but something in your stomach said otherwise. 

You wanted to break and look to Thomas. You suddenly became aware yet again that your hair was messy and you were still wearing your glasses. You normally always took them off when someone was approaching. Your cheeks got slightly pink at the thought of him judging you. 

“The real question is what will we do to bring them down,” Polly said trying to break up the tension. 

“Why this?” Sherlock’s voice cut like a knife as he gestured to the room.  

“We can discuss this later.” He didn't budge and you were grateful that Polly started to pull Enola up the stairs. 

“Come let's get you some tea and a snack,” She said quietly. Polly shot Arthur a look over her shoulder. He gave you a reluctant look but followed her out of the room. 

Thomas stayed against the wall looking as relaxed and bored as he always did when in the company of outsiders. 

“Why them?”Sherlock repeated once he realized Thomas wouldn't be leaving, and you realized it was the same question that had been nagging you all morning. 

“They make me happy. He makes me happy.” You said quickly. 

“They are criminals.” 

“These are hard-working people. You snoop around if you like, but you won't find anything criminal here.” You knew this because you handled the transition of the business yourself. 

“I don't like it.” He said firmly and the emotion he was giving off finally made sense. He wasn't one-upping you, he was trying to protect you. 

“You wouldn't like it if it was anyone else either.” You said with a small smile finally understanding. “I’m sure we can help each other with this?” You gestured to the paperwork. 

“Of course.” He nodded and came to stand next to you. Just like that things fell into their usual flow,  you explaining a pattern and him trying to prove you wrong to help narrow it down. You and him went back and forth at a rapid pace and within a few moments, he was in agreement with you. Just then you heard Enola speak. 

“Did I miss all the good stuff?” She asked Thomas and you looked up, breaking your concentration. He gave her a small smile. Once seeing his friendly nature you went back to pulling the last of the stolen documents you hadn't examined yet. 

“I think they have most of it sorted,” Thomas responded. 

“Damn.” Enola sighed. “Was it cool? I bet it was cool.” 

“Very.” Thomas’s response caught you off guard. 

“Sorry about your shop - and everything.” She said in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

“It’s alright. Feel free to stop by anytime.” You watched Enola’s face light up at his words. While they were legal on paper, you knew this was a dangerous place and probably always would be. Was Sherlock's world any different? As long as the family kept her safe she would be fine you reassured yourself. 

“Thanks.” She held out her hand to him.

“Enola.” 

“Thomas.” 

They chatted and your heart got a little bit softer the more they spoke. 

“This is enough to take to the inspector.” Sherlock finally said officially letting you win in his own way.

Your eyes snapped up and looked to Thomas, he was listening to something Enola was explaining. He gave you a nod before looking back at your little sister. 

“Excellent - erm Thanks.” You said not sure how to proceed with things. “I know they have a rough history. But so do we.” 

“You and Enola are my responsibility. I’ll be around.” He gave you a long look before standing up. He shook hands with Thomas and you walked him and Enola to the front door. You said your goodbyes and watched them hail a cab. 

Once they were on their way you took a few deep breaths before going back into the shop. You took your hair down and tucked your glasses into the pocket of your sweater. 

After another moment you went back inside to apologize. 

You came back in and heard their voices from the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like they were filling John in on what he had missed. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like watching a machine or something.” Thomas said and you weren't sure how you felt about his words. You were a receptionist on paper, you could have done many things with your life. But this job was invisible. No one bothered you, no one compared you to either of your big brothers. It was comfortable. When Thomas asked you to take a look at things you were simply going to give him your findings so he could bring those bastards down. You didn't want credit or publicity. You certainly didn't want him to see you as that nerdy girl with glasses who had so often been belittled. 

“Machine or not, she’s one of them. She’s handled everything! She could take us down any moment - you just can’t-” Polly hissed and you felt her words cut through you like hot knives. 

“I’ll handle it.” Thomas cut her off darkly and you felt like you had been dunked into cold water. 

“Tom - at least hear her out. Not like they treated her nicely. Maybe she’s different?” Arthur said in a pleading tone but there was no response. 

You knocked on the door frame to announce your presence. Sharp eyes landed on you and you took a breath trying to look composed. 

“Walk me home?” You asked Thomas and he looked at you for a long moment as if he was studying something strange in a museum. He gave you a nod and took your arm. 

He didn't say a word the whole way back. You felt his eyes land on you periodically and each time your heart rate sped up. These were last looks and you could feel parts of you start o spin out of control. 

You opened the door to your flat with shaking hands. Once you pushed it open the stuffy air made it even harder to breathe. He shut the door and locked it, the sound making your chest constrict even tighter. You felt like you were being suffocated, but now wasn't the time to show such emotions. 

“Why did you help us?” The question was simple and you were relieved he was going to hear you out, even if he just had the patience for a fraction of the story, it would lessen the burden on your chest significantly. 

“You needed help. You wanted to be better.” It was hard to get your voice up above a whisper. Your mind flashed to all the times you wondered about him and his family and why they would be converting their business over to be completely legal in the first place. They would reach much farther opportunities being shady. What was in it for them? But there was always something shining in Thomas’s eyes that answered your question. Pride. He didn't care about making more money at this point. He cared about his family being respected after a hard life of being dismissed and shit on. 

You remembered the various balls and social events you had been forced into at Mycrofts side. All the men that had tried to take your hand in marriage. All from grand wealthy families that had started much like Thomas had. It was unavoidable. You thought about how your life would have been as a wife instead of a gangster's girlfriend. 

“You could have turned us in any time. Given your bothers the tip-off”

Brothers plural. So he knew Mycroft too. Fuck. 

“Why would I?” You mumbled feeling defeated. “They care about themselves. Well, not Sherlock, he cares in his own way. Enola is just a kid still. Mycroft only cares about himself.”

“He hasn't pressured you for information on us?” 

“We would have to talk for him to do that. As far as he knows I’m a “worthless spinster living within the dregs of society.” You mocked his voice feeling frustrated. If his existence was the thing to fuck this up for you, you would find a way to make him pay for it. 

“Why didn't you tell me about your family?” He was still as cold as you expected him to be but there was a slight toe of hurt in his voice. 

“Well, there's the Holmes family that everyone sees and then the other side. I just - I really like it here. Your family is - more - they like me. They seem to enjoy having me around. It’s not a big competition all the time. And then you -” Your voice cut and tears started to become unavoidable. 

“Well, nothing bad has happened.” he shrugged. “Mycroft certainly doesn't know we're together.” He said with a smile. You wanted to know how he knew that.

“Everything was destroyed anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as you can see no one listens to me anyway.” 

“I do.” He said and pulled you against him into a tight hug. 

_________________

He proposes shortly after.

Mycroft finds out and needs to be taken to the hospital because he thinks he's having a heart attack

Sherlock randomly shows up at Arrow House while You are shopping with Enola. Examining the whole house while Tommy smokes and follows him. Eventually, Sherlock agrees that this is a fine house for you to run. That if Thomas fucks up in any way that Sherlock would kill him and that Sherlock was sure he wouldn't get caught. They shake on it.

They end up working together occasionally. Enola becoming very attached to Esme & Polly. Sherlock eventually becoming fond of the family and occasionally accepting a dinner invitation when he had time.

[buckyalpine]

Ohhhh yay 🥰🥳

So my brain came up with this idea: Bucky is the leader of a werewolf pack (just like twilight haha I'm so sorry) and he gets fond of that one girl where he instantly feels a connection cause the wolves fall in love only once in a lifetime and he knows it's you. So when you get attacked by vamps one night he steps in saving you and bringing you to their camp to take care of you. Then you Kinda feel love at first sight as well and stay by his side ?

I love this but this is going to be a first for me, writing this type of AU so bear with me. Some A/B/O themes to do with the werewolf theme but not exactly an a/b/o fic. Just making up my own damn rules for this AU, so look the other way if something doesn’t make sense. 

18+ cause smut but also lots of fluff, knotting, marking, protective Bucky with platonic protective Steve, Sam and Peter

-

He didn’t mean to watch you so closely but he couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was a part of his instincts to notice the finest details that surrounded him. Every day he saw you, there was something new that captivated him. The way the wind would tousle your hair. The way your nails were painted to match the shades of the fall. Whenever you bought your morning coffee, you bought a second one along with a muffin, handing it to the homeless man that stayed near by the coffee shop. Sometimes you’d spent a good few minutes talking to him before continuing with your day. You’d hold the hand of the elderly woman who was slowly crossing the street, making sure she made it across safely before you went off to wherever you were going. 

You saw beauty in everything. Everyone.

You were beautiful.

Pure.

Bucky shook his head, turning back to the bar, wiping down a few glasses, though still sneaking glances at the window as you walked by. He’d first noticed you months ago, in the summer, blinking when he saw an unfamiliar but pretty face walking down the street, a bundle of sunflowers in your hand. His eyes lingered on you, smiling softly when you handed a little girl a flower before continuing down the street, disappearing around the corner. Bucky knew everyone around the area; after all it was his territory. The east belonged to his pack so he was curious about the sweet stranger he’d never seen before. 

You didn’t seem to pose a threat so he didn’t dive into investigating you. The more often he saw you, the more he’d find to admire. It was late in the afternoon, meaning Bucky would only see you again closer to the end of his shift which would be around midnight. He felt his cheeks heat up when he realized he knew what your routine was. 

Stop being creepy Bucky. 

Hours went by, less than sober customers walking in and out, Sam, Steve and Peter were talking Bucky’s ear off about something he stopped paying attention to 20 minutes ago. 

“...and that’s how I caught Clint in the vents, you should’ve seen his face” 

“Caught in 4k, no cap”

“Why would he be wearing a cap”

“I’m going to move you all to the graveyard shift” Bucky groaned, barely focused on their conversation, mostly because he lost track of whatever Peter was referencing, 15 references ago. He glanced at the clock, only a few more minutes left until he was off. It also meant you would be passing by his bar soon enough. Which is why he frowned when he didn’t see you. For the past few months, Bucky noticed you’d always walk home, something he wasn’t very fond of but it’s not like he could do anything about it. The area was generally safe but it wasn’t perfect, especially at night. 

Bucky shoved the uneasiness he felt to the back of his mind; you had a life outside of the moments he saw you. You could have taken a cab or gone home with a friend. Maybe you look a different route. Maybe you made plans. He thought of 101 reasons as to why he didn’t see you to try convince himself he was worrying over nothing. Bucky grabbed his jacket, heading out into the cool night, the moon softly lighting the empty streets. 

Something felt off. 

The worry he felt when he didn’t see you hadn’t ceased and for some reason the feeling was growing. 

She’s fine.

She’s made it home safe. 

You don’t even know her-

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to a faint sound he heard near a pitch black alleyway. He took two steps towards it, only to hear silence filling the air.

Until he heard it again. 

He knew he heard something, a pained whimper so quiet, he almost thought he imagined it. The hairs on his neck stood up, something not feeling right, bounding towards the source of the sound. His pupils dilated to scan the dark area, eyes growing wide when he saw the sight before him. 

“Quiet!” John hissed, his teeth grazing your cheek. “Such a pretty lookin’ princess” he whispered, his fangs glistening under the moon light, his finger tracing along the column of your neck. “Hold her still” He grumbled while his friend kept their hand firmly over your mouth, their other arm wrapped around your arms and waist. 

“Been watchin’ ya sweet heart” Valentina purred, trailing a sharp nail down your cheek, a sinister smile on her face watching you struggle, “These young ones are hungry” She sat back on a crate, crossing her legs, while the blond grabbed a fist of your hair, craning it back to expose your neck. “Go on, make it quick before one of the mongrels find us” She spat, venom in her voice, feeling a sense of uneasiness roaming the streets they were forbidden to set foot in. 

“Ladies first” John smirked while Sharon hummed, smacking your cheek when as you struggled, trying to break free. “This will be a lot easier if you’d just fucking-

She stopped mid sentence, her eyes darting around her, the sudden scent of pinewoods and cedar evading her senses. A snarl tore through the air, your eyes falling on a white wolf along with three others growling and stalking towards your attackers, the largest white one bounding towards you, pinning John underneath him. Sharon tried to grab you, her nails digging into your skin, only to be torn off by another wolf, dragging her by the ankle. You fell to the floor, gasping when the smallest wolf came to your aid, standing guard in front of you, warning for the others to back off. You couldn’t place what it was but there was something distinct about each wolf, it was almost as if you could see their different personalities. 

“Fuck-”  John tried to throw the large animal off him, heaving at the weight that sunk into his chest.  

“You don’t belong here” The white wolf let out a deep growl, claws piercing into his chest, breaths heavy, fanning on his face, sharp teeth on full display. All you heard was a growl but John seemed to understand what it meant, frantically nodding his head. “Leave now, take the rest with you” He understood the low rumble to be a final warning for them to leave if they wanted to stay alive. 

“Lets go!” Valentina had already jumped to the top of the building, not waiting for the rest, the group running off into the night, leaving you half bleeding and scratched on the ground. John gasped for air, scrambling off the floor as he managed to climb up a fire escape, striding across the rooftops to follow the rest. 

Your heart stopped as the white wolf turned to face you, taking slow calculated steps, as if to show you he meant no harm. He was beautiful with piercing sapphire blue eyes and thick white fur. Your eyes grew wide, your breath catching in your throat as he began to shift, fur disappearing replaced with brunette hair, limbs now muscular arms and legs. There was no longer a wolf before you, a tall handsome stranger standing in its place. It was just you and him in the alleyway; the other three wolves who had protected you had trailed after your attackers to ensure they left the territory. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Who-who are you” You whispered, trembling in the corner as Bucky approached you, his teeth no longer sharp, eyes now a soft shade of blue. He carefully stepped towards you, kneeling on the ground to help you sit up, his touch gentle. “Please don’t hurt me-”

“I won’t hurt you” He smiled softly, resting his hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your mind was still reeling over what you had just seen, your head feeling dizzy from the deep cuts that ran along your arm. The skirt of your dress had ripped, nicks covering your knees from where you fell. 

“But-you-” You stumbled over your words, your heart still rapidly beating out of your chest, “You were just-” 

“Fluffy and walking on four legs?” He gave you a playful smirk, his smile dropping when he noticed your eyelids grow heavy, your body exhausted. “You’re really hurt”

“M’okay” You rasped but you knew you were far from it. The area where you were scratched began to burn and you didn’t understand why. You let out a whimper of pain, clutching onto him as the pain worsened. Bucky’s heart broke, the need to protect you and take care of you overbearing all his other senses. He tucked you against his body, not thinking twice about his decision to bring you back with him. 

“Come with me doll, we’ll take care of you” His voice was soft, soothing, like a warm blanket covering you. You gave him a faint nod, melting into his hold as he lifted you into his arms with ease. Something about him brought you a sense of calm you had never felt before. 

It was the same feeling you felt when you stepped into your home after a long day. The feeling of slipping into a warm bath. The feeling of fresh sheets and a cool pillow. The first sip of hot chocolate on a cold day. Soul soothing. 

You slipped in and out of consciousness, as he carried you through towards the forest that surrounded the area, his scent of pine and something distinctly him bringing you comfort. The soft crunch of twigs crunched beneath his footsteps as he walked down the trail towards a clearing. 

Tall beautiful log cabins surrounded the camp, the area completely hidden from the outside world. Bucky managed to open the door to his cabin while still holding you close, setting you down carefully on the couch before frantically calling Wanda. By the time Wanda was knocking on his door, you were  completely unconscious, bruises starting to form on your skin, your breathing slowed. 

“She was attacked” Bucky stayed by your side while Wanda looked you over, running her hands carefully over your injures. 

“Vampires?” She asked Bucky, flecks of red flashing across her eyes when Bucky nodded. “What are they doing here”

“They’ve been watching her” Bucky swallowed thickly, the sense of dread returning when he thought about what could have happened if he hadn’t found you in time. “They were going to feed...”

“Leave it to them to prey on the most vulnerable” Wanda shook her head in disgust, scanning the shelves for all the medicines she’d made. She grabbed a small vial, squeezing a few droplets out onto your skin, wrapping the scratches with a soft cloth. “She’ll be okay, just needs to rest. They didn’t bite her so she won’t be affected in anyway. Just keep an eye on her throughout the night in case she’s in any pain” 

Bucky nodded, thanking Wanda as she left. You stirred, the oil on your arm starting to sting making you groan in pain. 

“Doll, are you alright? What hurts” Bucky was at your side in an instant, eyes clouded with worry. You clutched onto your arm, curling into a ball, biting your lip waiting for the pain to cease. 

“Just stings, that’s all” You tried to bear the sting, letting out a strained groaned as the pain radiated more. It seemed to come in waves, pulsing through your body. Bucky crouched beside you so he was at eye level with you, his hand gently skimming over your covered scratches. You relaxed for a moment at his touch, your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. 

“It’s the healing oil. It stings more because...” Bucky bit his lip, pausing and choosing his words carefully, “Well, the medicines were made for-for our kind?” He gave you a lopsided smile, “It’s very potent”

“Your kind?” You cocked your head, urging him to continue though there was only so much left to explain after you’d literally seen him shift from wolf to human. 

“Werewolf” He grinned; you could hardly believe moments ago his perfect teeth were razor sharp. 

“Werewolf?” You repeated, still struggling to take in everything that had happened in the past few hours. You’d always felt an intense unexplainable energy in the air since you’d moved to the area but you were not expecting werewolves. Or vampires for that matter. Bucky chuckled at your wide eyes, helping you sit up. 

“Not Jacob from Twilight werewolf” He playfully rolled his eyes while you giggled, “A real werewolf sweetheart” 

“Ah, of course, so more Mason from Wizards of Waverly place” You giggled, half expecting yourself to wake up from whatever strange dream this was. “tell me more”

“Hmm” Bucky thought, not knowing where to start, a part of him worried you’d be scared off, though you didn’t seem to be uncomfortable around him. “We’ve lived here for generations, the territory is ours. We don’t typically reveal ourselves to the outside world. We don’t have to wait for a full moon to change, we can do it any time. We shift according to our places in the pack”

“And what's your place in the pack” 

“Leader” He smiled softly, proud of his pack, the family he loved more than himself. 

“Thank you by the way”, your fingers skimming over a few scratches that were on his hands, previously large paws when he had fought off Walker, “For saving me...” You realized you didn’t know his name.

“Call me Bucky, doll” 

Bucky insisted you sleep in his room though you refused, not wanting to impose. He laid out his softest and warmest blankets and coziest pillows, creating a safe space for you to sleep in. You gasped, looking at the way he’d set everything up, it almost resembled a nest of blankets and pillows. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, giving you some of his clean clothes to sleep in after you showered. You fell asleep instantly, his soft scent all over the bed lulling you into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head touched the pillow. 

Bucky made his way back outside to check on Steve, Sam and Peter, rolling his eyes when he saw they were perfectly fine, the three nursing beers while sitting on the stairs of his cabin. 

“What the hell are you-”

“So this is who you’ve been keeping an eye on” Sam smirked, nudging Bucky’s shoulder while Steve and Peter shared shit eating grins. 

“Shut up Sam”

“See? He didn’t deny it!”

“So what, you’ve been watching me?” Bucky cocked and eyebrow while Sam scoffed. 

“Please. You’re always looking out the window like a love sick puppy” 

Bucky was able to control many things with his body but he couldn’t for the life of him control the blush that spread across his cheeks. 

“I didn’t know alpha’s could blush” Steve cackled while the rest joined, each poking fun at the way his cheeks reddened more. 

“I’m going to sleep, or so help me God-” He shook his head, going back inside and laying on the couch. He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered around his tummy, the sweet sunshine he loved to see everyday was there. 

In his home.

In his bed.

In his clothes.

...

Calm down Bucky.

He made sure to periodically check on you like clock work, not getting a wink of rest through the night, not when you had been hurt. He loved the way you looked, curled up in his bed, sleeping soundly. A flash of anger pulsed through him when his eyes fell on your bandages. Those that hurt you. It’d be a problem for another day but he’d fine a permanent solution to that problem very soon. 

*****

You blinked awake, the delicious scent or fresh berries and pancakes wafting through the air. You felt warmth creep up your cheeks when you found another fresh set of clothes placed by the bed along with a brand new tooth brush and a towel. You mentally scolded yourself for the way your heart tried to skip at his acts of kindness, but you couldn’t help it.

There was something about him. 

You quickly got changed, padding down to the table where stacks of pancakes were piled high along with cut up berries. Bucky grinned when he saw you, his heart fluttering again at the way his Henley hung loosely on you. 

“Good morning doll, how you feeling”

“Better, again thanks to you” You felt giddy over his handsome smile and yet a sense of calm whenever you were near him. You couldn’t understand why you felt so comfortable around his presence. He was a stranger to you yet you felt like you’d found your place. You’d known him for less than 24 hours but there was a connection. Around him, you felt protected. Cared for. Perhaps it was the fact that he was the leader, so naturally he had a very protective nature. That had to be it, it’s not like you were special to him.  

You repeatedly had to remind yourself to stop gazing at him because there was another issue. It’s not like you were blind. Bucky was gorgeous. You loved his scruffy beard and dark hair, what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through his soft-

What- 

You blinked, clearing the rogue thoughts that tried to probe your mind, distracting yourself with breakfast instead. 

“I didn’t know werewolves liked pancakes” You teased, ignoring the way your skin heated up, popping a berry into your mouth.

“I like to eat lots of things, doll” Bucky smirked at the way you moaned, licking off a droplet of the berry juice that stained your lips. Your pretty lips. Soft. Supple. Kissable. Would look even prettier wrapped around his co-

He shook his head, hoping to get his mind out of the gutter, why was he like this. A knock on the door made you jump while Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing a few more plates before making his way to the door. 

“For fucks sake, even on a Saturday” Bucky mumbled to himself, knowing damn well the three idiots he called friends would have smelled him making breakfast from 3 cities away, let alone a few cabins down. You heard the voices of a few men, two large men about the size of Bucky entered the kitchen along with another who looked much younger. 

“Y/n, this is Steve, Sam and Peter”

You instantly recognized the three as the very same ones who had came with Bucky the day you were attacked. All three of them were as sweet to you as Bucky but you couldn't help but find Peter the most adorable, who managed to eat the most out of everyone. They happily raided the kitchen, passing each other glances you couldn't pinpoint, each look making Bucky more flustered.

“You protected me” You smiled at Peter, who blushed, stuffing another pancake into his mouth while Sam shook his head in disgust. 

“It was nothing, we’re just happy you’re safe” Peter preened at your praise, finishing the last of what was on the table. 

“Barnes, Peter ate everything again”

“For fucks sake-” 

Bucky didn’t let you lift a finger the entire morning, serving you everything you wanted and clearing the table away. In fact, he didn’t let you do anything that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. A week. Two weeks. He wanted to make sure you were completely okay before letting you leave. He was there to take care of anything you needed, cleaning and applying the oil to your cuts, redressing the bandages. Getting you fresh clothes. Fluffing out your bed so it’d be warm and cozy.  While you adored the warmth of his bed, you couldn’t help but wish he’d just stay with you instead. He’d introduced you to the rest of his pack, everyone happy to have you around when they saw the way his cheeks would tint pink when you sat beside him.

You’d both spent countless hours each night, talking by the fire place or walking in the moonlight. Each night, he’d make sure you were comfortably tucked in before crashing on the couch, occasionally morphing into his wolf form and curling up by the door just to be extra safe.

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to you. What started as admiring you from afar was now making his heart beat faster. Skin warmer. He knew the feeling was far more intense than just friendship. He felt a bond. Something that pulled him to want you by his side forever.

For you to be his mate.

It was rare for werewolves to find a mate that wasn't a werewolf like himself but here was. In love with you. He never felt a pull like this towards someone else. Everything he felt was 10 times stronger than before, growing more and more with each day he spent with you. 

*****

“I know it’s been a few days but...maybe you should stay a little longer?” Bucky knew there was truthfully no reason for you to stay any longer; the wounds had completely healed and you were perfectly fine.

Still...

"Are you sure?" You bit your lip, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his arms for the night as he stood by the bedside, handing you one of his sweaters.

"Of course, I-I don't want anything to happen to you, so just to be safe" He smiled softly, itching to just crawl into bed with you and snuggle.

“Bucky, you-you don’t have to sleep on the couch” You sat up just as he was about to leave, your heart beating a little faster when he stopped and turned around. "You can sleep here"

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, moving over slightly and lifting the covers up so he could lay beside you. At the start of the night Bucky was as still as a statue, worried you'd find it odd if he got too close, making sure there was distance between you both before he closed his eyes.

Of course, even in his sleep he sought you. You sighed contently at the feeling of his arm wrapping around you waist, pulling you close to his chest, his face burying into your neck, a happy low rumble emitting from his chest at the way you felt in his arms. He nuzzled his face into your skin, keeping you flush against him the entire night, hoping the sun would ride just a little bit later.

Every night, your cuddles became a little more intimate. You'd start off at opposite ends of the bed, only to find yourself tangled in each other each morning. Hands would wander a little more each time with gentle touches and a few extra kisses.

****

"Just come cuddle" You giggled as he scooted over, giving up on trying to sleep at the other side of the bed. Bucky smiled, pulling you to lay on his chest, his hand slipping past your shirt, gently stroking your spine. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, loving the way your skin felt on his lips. He didn't want to stop, continuing to trail kisses down your face, holding you a little tighter, the need to have you completely growing stronger. His eyes locked with yours, nervously leaning down, smiling against your lips as you closed the gap between you both.

His hands carded through your hair, deepening the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips, slipping into your parted mouth. He couldn't help himself, rolling you both over so you were pinned under him, dominating the kiss till you both needed air. Your eyes grew wide feeling his length pressing against your tummy, hips rutting slightly, fighting himself from stuffing you full of him.

"Buckyy" You panted from under him, gripping onto his arms, spreading your legs further for him. The needy whine that fell from your lips made him growl, he could smell how aroused you were, his cock painfully hard in his sweats. "Need you"

“I-I don’t want to hurt you” He whispered, his mind conflicted over wanting you so badly but also worried his hurt you with his strength. He nearly whimpered feeling the warmth of your core pressed against him, your thighs squeezing the sides of his waist.

“You won’t hurt me Bucky” Your eyes were pleading with him, needing this just as much as he did, he only had so much self restraint.

“Let me taste you?” He crawled down, his fingers skimming around the waist band of the boxers he had given you to wear, pulling them down as you nodded. He threw his own shirt off before settling between your legs, spreading your pussy apart, his hunger for you growing at the way you glistened under the dimly lit room. "You smell so sweet, angel"

You felt shy under his intense gaze as he looked up at you while kissing the soft flesh of your thighs. Bucky nearly growled as soon as his tongue flicked across your clit, feeling the way it throbbed each time he licked you. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, alternating between lapping up your arousal and toying with your clit, suckling and kissing you, moaning when he felt your hands tug at his hair.

"Grind on my face sweets" Bucky threw your legs over his shoulders, urging you to push his face down deeper, the greedy side of him wanting to suffocate between you legs. You squeaked when he guided your hand to pull at his roots, a feral look flashing in his eyes when you hesitantly pulled a little harder, his eyes rolling back.

"Just like that baby, I'll use my tongue all over this pretty pussy, just show me how" He groaned as you pushed his head down, your back bowing off the bed feeling his tongue slip inside you, drinking every drop you gave him.

"Bucky, need you-" Your body felt hot, pussy clenching and throbbing, aching for him to fill you. He kissed up your body, throwing the rest of your clothes off before lining himself up with your entrance, his breath fanning over your face.

"Sweetheart, I don't know if I'll be able to control myself" He stroked your forehead, his cock leaking against your pussy. "It's more than just- I can't explain it-

You smashed your lips against his, squeezing your legs around his waist tighter, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Please, I want you, want to feel you Bucky, all over you"

"M'right here angel, you have me" He let out a shuddered breath as he started to press into you, moaning against your neck once he was fully sheathed inside you. He moved slowly, rocking his hips while his nose tracing against the column of your neck, his hands moving to fist the sheets. He could feel them tear under his grip, your tight pussy and sweet scent awakening something primal.

“Doll...” He groaned in your ear, his cock swelling more with each thrust, “Baby, I-

He let out a desperate growl, his hands balled into fists, his corded back muscles tensed, holding back from pounding you into the mattress. You could feel his cock grow harder, stretching you more, the swollen tip rubbing against your sweet spot making you gush around him.

“What is it” You whispered, your thumb caressing his scruffy cheek, your soft touch only making it more difficult for him to hold back.

“Fuck baby” It almost hurt him, desperately wanting you to be all his, his tongue licking and nipping your neck, biting his lip to keep from sinking his teeth in. “Want you to be mine”

“I'm yours Bucky” You carded your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp, making him growl, the soft color of his eyes now an intense sapphire blue and glowing. Bucky gently nipped your neck, holding back how badly he wanted to claim you, mark you, the smooth canines of his teeth growing sharper the more you moaned for him.

"Y-you don't understand sweets, I want-I want you forever"

"You have me Bucky" You clenching around him, your moans broken as the band in your belly tightned more. Bucky grinded his hips down, desperate to be as deep inside you as possibly, the coiled hair at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, warmth spreading through your body. "I'm-I'm gonna-

"Cum for me angel, I need it, need it baby, cum for me please" He moaned with you, his hand flying to the headboard, the wood splintering and cracking under his grip. He started to chase his own high, speeding his thrust's up, his balls slapping your ass grunts growing deeper.

"M'gonna cum baby" He could hard speak, too consumed and overwhelmed by the way he felt inside you, his cock swelling and throbbing, spurts of precum already soaking your pussy.

"Cum Bucky!"

"You're mine" He panted, his forehead resting on yours, "Say it sweets, say you'll always be mine?"

"M'yours" You nodded, kissing his nose, your hands cupping his face, "All yours Bucky, make me yours"

"Oh FUCKK" Bucky moaned against your neck, his teeth grazing your soft skin, biting just enough to to mark you without hurting you, gently licking the area after while he continued to moan and whine, his orgasm unending. "All mine"

You both laid tangled in the sheets, going for a few more rounds until the sun came up. You shivered at the feeling of his hands trace over your skin, your whole body sensitive from how many times he had you cum all over his cock. His hands. His face. There was a feeling of security surrounding you as you laid on his chest, the faint mark on your neck tingling.

“Will you be my mate?” Bucky whispered shyly, blushing more at your giggle while you sat up slightly, your nose bumping against his.

"Even if I'm not a werewolf? " You teased while Bucky playfully rolled his eyes, nipping you again.

“Of course, how else will I protect you bunny” He let out a growl, cocking his eyebrow while you squealed, finding yourself flipped under him again. "You'll stay with me sweetheart?"

"Even if I can't change into a giant a fluffy puppy like you under a full moon?"

"Yes"

"Even if I can't hear Sam sneaking into the house for breakfast from 3 houses down"

"We'll work on that"

"Do I always have to rub your belly and feed you my peanut butter treats when you turn into a pouty little werewolf, pretending to be a big scary leader to everyone else"

"Yes and now that you know that secret, you have to stay" Bucky grinned, his hopeful eyes shining brighter when you cupping his face, kissing him deeply.

"I already told you, I'm all yours"

****

Imagine the utter joy the rest of the pack get from how soft Bucky is for you. They're so used to seeing him unmoving and broody but now theres flowers around his cabin and the blush is just part of his face now. Steve and Sam help move some of your things over to Bucky's, more than happy to have you around because now there's even more food for them to eat.

Nothing turns you on more than when he goes into protective mode. His eyes glow. His muscles tense. The growl that rumbles from deep in his chest makes your thighs squeeze together. He keeps you by his side, always touching you, his hands lingering on your waist, toying with your hair or playing with your fingers.

It's not often he fully transforms but when he does, its because someone got too close to you.

You can't help but giggle when you see him transform into his werewolf form because he's beautiful and scary, teeth barred out, claws flexed out, but only you know how adorably cuddly he is when he's just alone with you. He nudges his head against your hand, whining for you to give him attention, he's three times your size but his tail swishes about like a playfully puppy.

Theres no doubt you're the best thing thats ever happened to him.

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @perdidosbucky-yyo  @clqrosmgc  

[udretlnea]

The Divine City, Interlude Quest: Dormiens Factorem. Part 2

Previous page \ Next page \ Prologue

(Words: 1.3k)

(Disclaimer: This work is non-canon to the plotline of the Divine City by yuriisclumsy)

There was only a few hours before the morning rush and Lyla was already entertaining ideas of murdering the first person to bump into her. One part of herself chastised her for being melodramatic, but the other didn’t care because she was just hungry.

Damn you Cecilia for making me skip breakfast! She thought, only to backpedal almost immediately. Okay, actually scratch that. Cecilia didn’t make me read light novels past midnight. That one’s on me.

(Lyla recalled practically jumping out of bed and throwing the barest minimum of “adventuring clothes” on her before fast-walking out of the dorm. Her stomach started panging in protest when she was halfway through one of the commerce districts.)

She bit her lip in consternation. Suddenly the idea of fainting while walking seemed like a tangible thing. Lyla scoffed when she saw a cafe some meters in front of her.

Hm. A quick stop for a muffin wouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t take long. She thought to herself. Convinced, Lyla stepped inside where she exited three minutes later biting a cranberry muffin. 

The rest of the walk was a blur to her, but she could confidently say that that was the best muffin she ever had.

Finally she arrived at the cafe by Timeless Treasures, and to her surprise Cecilia was standing there holding two muffins. She was wearing a brown cloak with the hood on, but some of her hair was hanging out. The blonde was staring to her left, as if she could see something Lyla couldn’t.

Aw man, I get to eat two muffins? Thank you Ceci for being so generous! “Good morning!” Lyla grinned happily.

Cecilia’s head snapped to her direction almost as fast as a whip. Was she that hyperfixated? “Ah! Good - good morning! This one’s for you.”

Lyla swiped the muffin out of Cecilia’s left hand and bit into it. Hm. Blueberry. And it’s still warm, nice!

The pair enjoyed their muffins in silence. After swallowing the last bites, Cecilia cleared her throat. “Okay. Down to business. I promised to explain and that’s what I’ll do right now.”

“Yesterday when I went here to pick up a gift, I saw a commoner walk out of Timeless Treasures and walk-” Cecilia jabbed a thumb to her left. “All the way to the defunct service tunnel. What I WANT to know is why? Why risk being caught by the Upholders and being thrown in jail for a gift? Why do all of that for a gift?”

Lyla listened with rapt attention. I suppose that does warrant some curiosity, but aren't you overthinking it?

“Anyway, I followed him back to a defunct service tunnel and that’s where the story ends. WHat I want to use your favor for, is for you to accompany me as I go outside so that we can find him. Together. And then I’ll ask him all my questions like ‘why was he here,’ and such.”

Wait, what. Did I hear that right? Lyla shook her head and finally spoke up. “Hold. You want…me to join you, to go out of the city, find this one particular commoner out of the dozens in the farmlands, just so you can sate your curiosity?”

Cecilia’s eyes darted everywhere before she gazed into Lyla’s eyes. “Yes.”

“I - okay, uh, could I ask why specifically you want to do this? It just sounds strange coming from you. And you don’t gotta share it if you’re not comfortable!”

Cecilia bit her lip, now looking almost…contrite? “Yesterday while I was doing errands in the commerce district I overheard a shout. When I went to investigate I saw someone getting bullied.”

Ugh. Classism. “Dastards,” muttered Lyla.

“I…I wanted to help them badly. So I went, but then I - I stopped.” Lyla grit her teeth. “I walked away like a coward. I didn’t stop until I ended up here and - and when I saw that commoner boy I thought how dangerous it was for him to sneak here. Then I told myself I couldn’t let this one go and then I followed him back to that tunnel. And that’s all she wrote.”

Lyla swallowed. A part of her felt disappointed at Cecilia, but she couldn’t blame her. The bluenette wasn’t exactly a paragon of justice herself. Still, what Cecilia told her…she concluded it was a selfish thing (there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that).

“You just want to make yourself feel better.” Lyla said flatly. 

Cecilia cringed, but didn’t answer. Lyla hummed, pretending to think when she opened her mouth again.

 “Alright. I’ll join ya-” Cecilia brightened up. “-But if we don’t find him when the clock strikes 6 I’m calling it a day, with or without you. Got it?”

The blonde nodded. “Mhmm!”

“Alright, you lead the way.”

They got there in under five minutes; it was exactly as Cecilia found it. Lyla peeked inside and observed how old it looked.

“So once we DO find him, what then?” Lyla asked.

“I already told you: Ask him why and get him to stop sneaking in here for his own safety.”

“Uh-huh. Just out of curiosity, what’s our plan in case we get mugged?”

“Since we can’t use our magic without revealing ourselves, I bought this the other day.” Cecilia reached into her coat and pulled out a knife. 

Lyla’s jaw dropped. “Huh!? What - when did you get that?”

“Some time before I went to you yesterday afternoon. I got it cheap too!” Cecilia sounded almost proud at that.

“Do you even know how to wield a knife?”

To Lyla’s surprise and horror, Cecilia nodded. “Emery taught me a few tricks last night.”

Emery? “Who’s that?”

“My head maid. She’s cool like that.”

Lyla wasn’t sure what Cecilia meant by that, but she felt anxious about Cecilia’s amateur knife skills. “So…just so we’re on the same page: In case we get mugged by Treasure Hoarders, our only defense will be a knife?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ceci, this is a terrible plan.”

“Nu-uh!”

“Yu-hu – no, you know what? I’m not wasting any more time with this. The sooner we’re done, the better,” spoke Lyla. She flourished her hands toward the tunnel. “After you, my dear~ Ladies first!”

Cecilia snorted, but strode forward into the darkened tunnel with Lyla following suit.

The tunnel was cold and only somewhat dark thanks to the light at both ends. Except when they got to the end of it, they found it covered by loose boards (clearly someone did that on purpose). 

When they remove all five of them, Lyla looks forward and finds her breath immediately stolen.

In front of them is a giant wooden bridge connecting the island city to the coast, and beyond that are acres of green and light brown. The sky was clear which allowed them to just observe how vast the other part of the city was. It was a fact that the farmers were responsible for a percentage of the city’s food, but it didn’t occur to Lyla how much they had to grow until now.

She looked to her left to tell Cecilia, only for something else to catch her eye. 

It was a ship of Liyuean design sailing just underneath one of the bridges. Its sails fluttered majestically in the wind and it may have been a trick of the light, but Lyla swore it was glowing in the morning sun.

All of this was…beautiful.

Two kids from the city, getting a taste of the outside world…on any other occasion I’d say this is romantic, Lyla thought pensively. She shook herself out of this brief moment of clarity and opened her mouth. “So…where do we go from here? Did you happen to see where he went?”

“...Nope,” came Cecilia’s reply.

“Eh?” Lyla looked to the blonde to remark, but her friend already began to move toward the bridge. She grunted and muttered sarcastically about going into a new place with no guide was totally not dangerous at all, before jogging to catch up.

///////////////////

Taglist: @yuriisclumsy

Map of the Divine City's outer section, photo used from source:

(art by yuriisclumsy)

A/n: This chapter was planned to be longer but it had to get cut in half due to time. 

So: they're classmates. Yes, we know that, but how CLOSE are they as friends? I had to show that in their dialogue and Lyla’s thoughts. I hope I executed that just right.

Additionally, those banners foreshadow that they're stepping outside the city's comforts into a more natural, less-known area for their little adventure. Man vs. Nature...mm. (On that note, a comparison to Fontaine and the Divine City can be made there in terms of architecture: both are cities constructed on an elevated source of land, generally use boats to travel to other nations, and...something about Celestia I'm not sure yet. Oh well.)

Up next: Hey, what's this odd black little cube and why’s there this purple mist around?

Please leave any comments, questions, or critiques. Anything! I can take it! Also, if ya find any mistakes, please let me know. <3

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - 18

Hello all,

I have a surprise for you with chapter 18. It has some fluff and Maya has a really great day.

MASTERLIST

The following morning Aelin went to work with the biggest smile on her face. The previous night with Rowan had felt like a massive milestone in their evolving relationship. Nothing had happened yet, although her body screamed for him. The constant ache for him was driving her insane but she knew Rowan was not fully ready yet and even if their kisses had definitely passed the PG stage, Aelin was going to wait for him. They had been apart five years, surely she could tell her hormones to wait a bit longer.

When she walked into the shop Aelin found a cheery Lysandra preparing the bookstore for opening. 

“Look at you all happy, miss engaged woman.”

Lysandra walked towards her waving a book “and look at your big smile, were you naughty with Rowan last night? Did you have hot steamy sex with him?”

Aelin paused “No, we had our date in his office. He had to stay behind to deal with the aftermath of the fire at the waterfront.”

Silence. 

“I read the news.”

“Yeah, he lost three firefighters and there is a whole massive investigation because the captain messed up.”

Lysandra gave her a hug “How is he?”

“He has Maya for the day and he is taking her to his old firehouse. I think he needs it.”

“Elide said that Lorcan was in a bad mood too.”

As if summoned, Elide arrived a few minutes later and she had the same strained expression that Aelin had. 

“Good morning to you too, El.”

The woman dumped the bag on the floor “Good shitty morning to all of you.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Can we have a nice day in the shop and have fun?”

Lysandra hugged them both “we need an event.”

Aelin nodded “I agree, it’s after the holidays and we all need cheering up.”

“Good then, let’s open up and start planning.”

*

Rowan was in his pickup truck with Maya happily chatting at the back.

She had asked him to see a firehouse and on her last day of winter school holidays he had promised to take her with him. He had to visit station 15 anyway for reports from the day before and it was also a good excuse to have Maya with him for the morning.

“Dad can I sit on the truck?”

Rowan chuckled “we can ask the guys at the station to let you climb on.”

“Yes!”

They arrived ten minutes later and Rowan parked against the wall just outside the apron in a place not in the way of the vehicles. He freed Maya and hand in hand they walked in.

As they walked in the apparatus floor he watched her expression morph in amazement when she noticed engine and truck parked up.

“Dada they are big.” Her voice dreamy.

“Morning chief.” Asterin’s voice, the resident paramedic, reached them “Hi Maya, remember me?” asked the woman as she kneeled.

“Yes you helped me and mama after the fire.”

Rowan chuckled. Ach well, at least it wasn’t a total negative memory.

As if alerted by the voices, the rest of the firehouse filed in and Rowan turned towards the group of people and lifted Maya in his arms while the girl waved happily. 

“Station 15, this morning we will have a guest of honour. My daughter Maya goes back to school tomorrow but she asked to visit a real firehouse so she is tagging along.”

Brullo stepped up and went to him “Good morning muffin, do you remember me?”

“Yes.” Rowan happily passed his daughter to the man while he took it as an opportunity to talk to Lorcan“How are you holding up?”

“Besides the fact that I am pissed? That Perrington’s irresponsibility lead to three of us dying? And the man still thinks he was right.” The dark-haired man growled “He punched me when I told him he had fucked up. He benched Borte when she challenged him. I tried to take over before you arrived on the scene but he claimed that his unit had arrived before us so it was his scene.” His hand carded in his long hair “he sent people in without a plan, without knowing where the active fire was, how many people. He just sent them in randomly.”

“I know, Lorcan. I have a pile of reports on my desk and I will have the investigation launched as soon as I can. He will likely be fired from the TFD.”

Lorcan exhaled “The bastard should not have been a firefighter in the first place, you remember him at the academy, right?”

Rowan growled “He was a joke. And the old chief promoting him to captain was a bigger joke.”

The two men remained in silence and Rowan took the opportunity to watch his daughter being passed on from firefighter to the other and having the time of her life.

He looked at his daughter having fun with Fenrys “She is having fun.”

“Elide and I are trying.” Confessed Lorcan almost embarrassed. 

Rowan turned at his friend “look at you. Elide really did a job on you.”

Fenrys had taken Maya for her official tour with Brullo and Ansel and Maya had been fascinated at seeing a woman firefighter. 

“Do you want to see the truck?”

“Yes!”

Fenrys placed her on his shoulder and they walked around the vehicle, opened all the compartment and showed her all the tools. Brullo then opened the driver’s doors “wanna sit on it?”

The girl smiled and he climbed on the vehicle while Fenrys passed her to him.

She sat happily behind the wheel and pretended to drive “Dada look, I am driving.”

Rowan joined them and took a picture of his daughter, then grabbed a bunker jacket that was hanging on the door and placed on her shoulders, looking gigantic on her.

Soon after Ansel stole the little girl and carried her to the engine “Engine is more fun.” Added the woman while climbing with the little girl on top of the vehicle and sitting on all the hoses. 

Ansel placed a plastic helmet on the girl’s head and then passed her the nozzle of a hose and together they pretended to fight a fire “Dad look, I am a firefighter!”

Rowan looked up and saw Maya on top of the engine laughing happily with Ansel. He had no doubts that the two would get along well.

Rowan filled his phone with his daughter’s pictures until Asterin came to claim the girl “My turn,” said Asterin, taking the girl’s hand “want to see the ambulance?”

“Yes!”

Asterin took Maya to her vehicle and opened the back “I am a paramedic, and in the ambulance we treat people.”

“Like you did with mama and me at the fire.”

“Yes, we look after people.”

“I want to be a pamamedic.”

Asterin laughed “I am sure your dad will be happy to hear it.”

However the morning fun got cut short when dispatch alarm went off and they all had to scramble.

Rowan quickly ran to Asterin and picked up Maya and as they stepped aside he explained her what was happening and Maya waved them goodbye.

“Dada that was so cool.”

“It was.”

“I want to be a pamamedic, dad.”

Rowan smiled “Do you?”

“Yes, I want to help people.”

He lifted Maya high up and then kissed her on her cheeks “That is a beautiful idea, my love.”

Rowan collected the reports from Lorcan’s office and then took Maya back to Aelin.

At the shop he found Aelin and the other two ladies busy with customers “Looks like mum is really busy today.”

Maya wiggled free from her dad and ran to the children’s section. Lysandra intercepted the girl and Elide walked to him.

“Having a busy day?”

“Yes, it’s good and we are planning an event too.”

“That is brilliant.”

Elide smiled “Did she have fun at the firehouse?”

“She had a blast and now she wants to be a paramedic.”

“That is great.”

He nodded “yes, I was terrified that she might want to be a firefighter,” he paused “not that I would stop her from doing something she loves but I am relieved. Being a paramedic is at least safer.”

Elide brushed her hand on his arm “I know. Lorcan’s job terrifies me. Yesterday I was watching the news and…” a ragged breath left her lungs “until he answered his phone I felt as if I was suffocating.”

Rowan pulled the woman to his side to offer comfort “Lorcan was amazing last night. He got punched to stop a man who almost risked his entire company.”

“I am proud of him.”

Aelin reached them a moment later “Morning,” Rowan stooped and gave her a gentle kiss “Maya had a great morning.”

“I heard, she was telling Lys that she wants to be a paramedic now.”

Rowan smiled “Yes, Asterin gave her a tour of the ambulance and she loved it.”

In that instant Rowan’s radio became alive “I need to go.”

Aelin kissed him “stay safe, please.”

He waved at Maya and Lysandra and rushed out of the shop.

“So nothing happened last night, eh?”

She smiled “I think we are getting there.”

“You might be the next couple who gets married.”

Aelin smiled “Not yet, El. For now I am taking him not being mad at me anymore. For now I am happy that he allows me in his life and lets me love him back.” A sigh “we are being given a second chance and I am not rushing him.”

“You seem so much happier, though. And Maya…” they both turned to the little girl “she is thriving.”

Aelin nodded. She had been right to fear how Maya would react at having a dad. It could have gone either way and apart from a moment during which she suffered because her and Rowan kept fighting, now she was happy again.

“So? How’s the baby making business going?” She changed the subject quickly.

Elide laughed “Oh it has its perks.”

“Oh I can totally imagine how cumbersome must be to have nightly sex with your hot husband.”

“I had no idea how hard it actually was to try and have a kid. The tracking and  planning and all.”

Aelin chuckled “Sometimes all you need to do is to forget the condom and just go for it.”

She remembered the night that lead to Maya’s conception. She and Rowan had gone out to dinner and then a classical concert. She had worn a dress that had been driving Rowan insane the whole night. They had barely kept their cool in the car, and as soon they had crossed the threshold of their flat it had been crazy passion. 

“Is that the Whitethorn-Galathynius way?”

“All I am saying, less planning and just have fun?”

Elide nodded “we can surely try.”

“Good.”

They joined Lysandra and Maya and Aelin and her daughter decided to revamp the fantasy section.

*

Rowan drove back to his work and prepared himself for another day of reports and to work on the investigation. On his floor he entered his office hall and saw Lyria sitting at her desk. 

“Morning, Chief.” Her tone cold. She passed him a few folders “you had a few phone calls, I noted down the names.”

“Thank you.”

“So, is the wife coming to disrupt your work today?”

Rowan’s head turned abruptly “excuse me?”

“Chief, she bursts in your office unannounced and never with an appointment. This is a workplace and she has no respect.”

“Aelin can come and visit whenever she wants unless I am in a meeting. She is…” he paused “She is allowed in and I do not want to hear any other complaints.”

“Fine, chief.” His secretary almost growled and slammed some documents on the desk “fine. Be happy with your perfect wife and perfect daughter.”

He stepped closer “Lyria, my personal life is none of your business. We are colleagues. If I ever gave you any indication of anything else, I am sorry, but I am in love with another woman.” He took another step closer “You are a great secretary and I am grateful for all your help, but colleagues is all we are.”

The woman nodded “It’s okay, chief,” a pause “I am sorry how I reacted, I had no place for being jealous.”

“It’s fine, as long as we are clear on this.”

“Copy that, chief.”

He nodded and disappeared in his office where a pile of reports was awaiting him. He dumped the other one he got from Lorcan and started to work on the fire of the previous day. He had also organise the funeral for the three firefighters. It was one of the worst aspects of his job. In his long career he had seen far too many firefighters die in the line of duty but nothing hurt as much as seeing three of them be killed because of incompetence. It was not fair. Any of them knew of the risks when signed up for the job. But not for this. Not that meaningless waste of life. He knew station three was a problem, he had been working on it since day two on the job. The previous chief had ignored all the complaints that had come from the lieutenant because she was a woman. One who had proved herself to be a fantastic firefighter. Perrington had so many complaints against him that he should have been dismissed a very long time ago and not put in a position of harming people. Appointing Borte as captain was one of the first things he was going to do as soon as he had filed all of his reports. Borte was a respected firefighter and had the support of the team.

The TFD needed change and it was his job to push for it.

To make sure that no one else would die because of negligence.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[koco-coko]

Heedlessness (The Curse of Rumpelstilkskin) | OC backstory fic

Word count: 1326

A/N: Sasa uses primarily they/them pronouns btw! They're agender (and also neurodivergent but shh thats a secret) Yeah this a complete rewrite/revamp of sasa's backstory bc after reading elberts route i didnt like the oc i made to ship with him so

Pairing: Elbert/Sasa (OC) (Pre-Relationship)

CW: violence, death

The first person Sasa killed was a man drenched in blue and white. It’s hard to forget that sight: expensive layers and tailored suit dyed red after a fatal gunshot wound, point-blank. Father had lured the man into a dark basement, he even tied the man up for Sasa.

He gently took Sasa’s hands, showed them how to aim the shot, but Sasa pulled the trigger. Father smiled gently. Sasa knew they weren’t the only one who Father smiled for, and they knew that they weren’t the only one who called him Father.

Sasa didn’t know how many other children there were, though. There could be a hundred, maybe fifty or so. Maybe only ten. Sasa was never allowed to interact with the others often. When they did, the others wore hoods and cloaks, and like them, they barely ever spoke. All their cabins were separate, all movements were scheduled and timed so that they’d never interact. Nobody knew Sasa existed, and nobody should’ve. 

Sasa killed quite a few, actually. Nobles, councilmen, once a member of the parliament, and thousands of reporters and police officers. Sasa never knew who gave them these assignments, but by the time they could question these jobs, Sasa already learned how to disattach. Father was always proud. Sasa specifically remembered a day where Father allowed them to dress up, where Father was disguised as a butler and Sasa was dressed in fancy new clothes, shiny and white with vests and buttons (such foreign concepts to a mercenary who hid in shadows and rags). They walked up to a bakery and got muffins. Father smiled and grinned at them, calling them ‘little master’ and petting their hair. It was the only time Sasa got to pretend that Father truly loved them, but Sasa had a sneaking suspicion that he had done this to the others. His kindness was far too scripted, far too perfect and lovely to be true.

On the job, they worked professionally. As if they barely knew each other. The older Sasa became, the more Father let them fend for themself. Partly because of how quickly Sasa climbed the ranks. No matter how bloody the scene, how compromised the situation, nobody ever remembered Sasa’s face, name, appearance. It was as if they never existed. 

Father would overlook the police investigations, and every time, he always heard: “Who attacked you?” “I–... I can’t remember! It was… um, they… she? No, no… he?...” “What did they look like?” “Well, they… were… um…” Father never questioned where this ability came from, but they never talked about it. Both knew something was different about Sasa, yet neither were allowed to acknowledge it. “If our employer found out about this…” Father whispered. Sasa never brought this ability of theirs up ever again.

Every job was fine, every mission was done… Sasa never questioned it. Poor or rich, noble or commoner, it didn’t matter. It never mattered. Sasa was a weapon, a gun for hire, and this is what those did. A gun, a knife, a sword, didn’t matter. It killed either way. Sasa killed either way.

But one night… One night, it was a familiar story. An auction, they believed. Mansion, shiny candles, glittering dresses on the women. Sasa knew the story. Sasa climbed onto the rooftop, crawling across the arches until they found a foothold near a sunroof. The chandelier sparkled in their eyes as they watched the rich drink and laugh… Sasa couldn’t find themself in the crowd. They weren’t a pretty lady in fancy gowns, they weren’t a gentleman in a fine suit… They were simply Sasa. Finally, their eyes landed on the target.

A man drenched in blue and white. It’s hard to forget that sight: expensive layers and tailored suit. The hilt of a sword at his waist. His hair was pale, and even paler was his complexion. Surrounded by gawking crowds… A deep sorrow in his eyes. Sasa's fingertips felt cold against the glass. 

In all that they’d maimed and slaughtered, they never found someone so sad. Scared. Pained. All the others were happy and spirited, driven and confident. Of course, that changed when they had knives to their throats, but nevertheless… It affected Sasa.

They remembered a time where they were hurt, scared, and pained. Two adults who vaguely resembled Sasa dead in the other room. Sasa hidden in a closet, coated in their blood. Their thighs burned from how far they had to run and hide. Father opened the creaky, wooden closet and carefully examined Sasa, before taking them to that small cabin where they learned to hunt and kill.

The last person Sasa killed was themself. They lied to their father about a job well done, and Father smiled gently. Sasa wasn’t sure how they did it, but just before he left to visit another one of his hitman-children, Sasa approached him at the door.

“You won’t remember after tonight,” Sasa said. 

Father nodded. “I had a feeling. Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure,” Sasa sighed, grabbing their hood and buttoning it on their collarbone. “I’d like to try painting.”

“I have a friend,” Father interrupted. “Well, friend of a friend. Tell him I sent you. He may be able to find an apprenticeship for you.”

“Is that all?” Sasa asked, staring into their Father’s eyes one last time.

Father smiled gently. “Yes. That’s all.”

Sasa left the same night, and despite their fears, nobody came to chase them. In fact, nobody seemed to know of Sasa. Sometimes, Sasa believed she had seen their father in the streets, but it was hard to tell when nobody’s eyes lit with recognition. All Sasa could be was a shadow in the crowd.

They were able to find that friend of a friend, thankfully. It wasn’t anything like their relationship with Father, their mentor being far too cold and unfeeling for that, but Sasa didn’t mind. Besides, once Sasa felt they had learned what they had to, they simply up and left. The next day, their teacher remembered nothing of an apprentice named Sasa, and even the name Sasa didn’t sound familiar.

They began painting on the streets, simply trying to hone their craft, but soon enough they had gathered fans. Some even wanted to be patrons, but Sasa declined. The former assassin was far too reclusive and socially awkward to manage the thought of having supporters, and they’d rather keep to themself. Sasa had always been unnamed in the face of the masses, and it was much more comfortable for them then the spotlight.

The days went on like this, spanning years even, until a butler in a suit and gloves approached them, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Behind him, a sorrowful young noble with the blondest hair and bluest eyes Sasa had ever seen. The noble wandered around aimlessly, or would’ve, if not for the butler taking his arm like a parent would a reckless toddler. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Sasa Smirnov, would you?” he asked in that foreign language. Thankfully, Sasa had gained a much better grasp of it over the years.

Sasa looked the pair up and down, tilting their heads in confusion. A pair knowing their name? That was unheard of! In fact, it was quite jarring to know that that was how their name was pronouced. “Azt hiszem, igen. Sasha vagyok.” It was an automatic response that only got an unamused look from the butler and curiosity from the nobleman. Sasa coughed. They hadn’t spoken in quite a while, and when they did, it was in their native tongue. Even with Father, they spoke in a heavy accent. They repeated in such a thick accent that it hardly made a difference. “I think… yes. I am Sasa.”

Finally, the blonde nobleman spoke. “I’ve… I’ve heard you’re a wonderful painter.”

Sasa’s eyes widened. For the first time in a long, long while, someone recognized them… and they recognized him in return.

[girlwithwolftatoo]

If you’re still accepting requests (I’m sorry if you’re not, you can totally ignore this):

Hw would the moon boys react with a reader whose love language is cooking and baking? Like, on a random day, their partner just starts making them all sorts of dishes and pastries for them to take to work, leaving little love notes with it.

Ihate cooking/baking, but the moment I’m in love I suddenly become a three Michelin star chef. 😂

*Undusts herself and looks around* Oh my gods, sorry about the HUGE delay! But here it is, I had a sudden idea while investigating about Hannukah (I hope I wrote it right) so... Marc Spector:

*Marc has some issues with the linking between food + love, we know why (coughcoughchapterfivefromseriescough). When you make him breakfast or he takes care of a meal for you, he perceives it as a simple couple task.

*So, why are you suddenly preparing such special dishes? If it happens you're not from the Jewish community, you begin to make traditional sweets or even whole meals, and you always seem expectating when practically dragging Marc to the table so he can "point" your cooking skills.

*It takes Marc some time to understand the reason behind your extra effort, and once he does... well, he's ready to swear to the whole Ennead he'll love and devote his life to yours until the end of this universe.

*He's not very picky with food, remember he was a marine and later a mercenary. To his eyes, whatever you do looks like a three-course banquet, and it overwhelms him in a special way.

*Marc is more into normal meals than comfort food, but will never say no when you ask him to try a just baked cupcakes or a natural fruit parfait. It's sweet, he thinks, but never sweeter than you.

Steven Grant:

*This man NEEDS someone to fill his stomach, like, ASAP. And I don't mean it because he's a vegan, but because we know he tends to forget to feed himself properly, like... almost every other esencial self-care tasks.

*The first time you prepare the breakfast for him, he disolves himself in compliments and kind words to you. Of course, he'll try to be fair and make meals for you too, so it's pretty usual that, when he invites you to stay in his place, he spends like three hours watching a tutorial to make a very fancy pasta and other things (specially if you're omnivore).

*One day, you show up to his work with a cute lunch that resembles a lot the kawaii meals you can see in the internet. Another day, you bring cookies you baked. And another day, you ask him if he's interested in some banana bread (and he better says yes because you've already cooked it).

*You could ask Steven to munch on a shoe and he'll do it happily. He loves everything you cook and bake for him and eats it like if it was the last meal on Earth. He looks almost like a little boy, his eyes reflect all the good feelings he has when you feed him.

*Of course he has his favourites, perhaps some specific cookies or, if it's summertime and you're up to, a sorbet flavor, but he's always up to experiment with whatever you have in mind.

Jake Lockley:

*Jake has an oposite vision about food than Marc. For him, if someone takes their time to cook or bake something, without being paid for that, it means they love the person they're cooking for with all their heart.

*So, try to picture what runs through his mind the first time you invite him to eat something you prepared in your apartment. He'll finish with the whole portions if you allow him.

*You know he's the most eccentric of the Moon boys, even more than Steven, so baking desserts is the right way to keep yourself into his heart (but, honestly, even if you handed him a bowl of cereal with fruit he'd still follow you like a loyal dog). Donuts and muffins are his favorites, and you don't have problems in spending some extra money to get the tools and ingredients for some decorations like whipping cream and royal ice.

*And ohh if this man doesn't love the cute messages you put along with his brand new box of bread. A little secret: he keeps all the notes you include in his meals, sticking them together with tape so they don't break and he can keep them like other people do with photos in their wallets.

*He's not affraid to ask you for certain things, if you tell him you want to try another thing (a cake, per example), he'll offer all of his support. And, in the case you fail a recipe, he'll be there to hug you and remind you that, for him, you're the best person in the world and you make him happy with or without food.

[sansundertale14x1]

This is absolutely disgusting.

Please do not click the keep reading button if you are in a little headspace- Kiddos, this is a big person deal :(

and before I get explainin, PROSHIPPERS LEAVE. Door's on the left, LEAVE.

It's not very often I'm physically repulsed to media. I mean, everybody says "That makes me want to puke" sometimes as an exaggeration, Even I do. And, I'd never think that I'd actually have the PHYSICAL response without joking.

Today, I posted a video on YouTube talking about the Object Show ships I hate, as I've seen many other people do the same. The opinions expressed in the video, I stand behind strongly. Most ships in the video which I dislike are Proships. (EX: Steve Cobs x MePhone4) I dislike them for this purpose, as shipping abusive relationships, family, and minors x adults is disgusting.

I then scroll through shorts for a while, proud for posting today instead of putting it off to tomorrow. And, I come across a Bluey edit. I smile, because I find Bluey a very fun show, despite it being 'childish'.

I notice something is off. The audio is speaking of how someone doesn't know of a sexual relationship. (I can't find the song, and I will edit this if I find it) I find this peculiar, as Bluey is made for children. And, this isn't even the last of it. The edit is directly implying that Bingo (a 4 year old CHILD) and Uncle Rad (Speculated to be a 38-40 year old MAN) are having a sexual relationship.

THIS IS FUCKING GROSS. NOT ONLY BECAUSE THAT IS SEXUALIZING OF A MINOR, BUT BECAUSE THEY ARE IN THE SAME FAMILY.

To assure this wasn't some disgusting shit post, I went onto the channel to investigate.

LOW AND BEHOLD, THERE'S MORE OF THIS GROSS SHIT.

Edits shipping Bluey and Socks (COUSINS, BOTH MINORS), Muffin and Stripe (DAUGHTER AND FATHER) and Muffin and Socks (SISTERS!!!!)

ALL OF THESE VIDEOS MADE ME PHYSICALLY PUKE.

Under most of these videos, the comments are turned off, or there are none. But the videos WITH comments...MAKE ME FEAR FOR THIS FUCKING GENERATION.

They state things such as: "You're so brave for this!" "So real! <3" and "I love this ship!"

IT MAKES ME GAG THAT THIS MANY PEOPLE THINK ITS OKAY TO SHIP FAMILY- AND EVEN MINORS WITH MINORS, OR MINORS WITH ADULTS.

IF YOU ARE READING THIS AND STILL DON'T THINK ANYTHING IS WRONG WITH THIS, THEN UNFOLLOW ME.

I also decided to not hide this fucking weirdo's identity. I'm exposing them for the disgusting shit that they have done.

This is their @ on YouTube: CharCharluv

PLEASE HELP ME CONVINCE THEM THIS SHIT IS WRONG.

and, IT DOES HURT PEOPLE.

I watch Bluey in a little headspace, yet, I can not fully regress- Also known as a Semi-regressor. Therefore, big thoughts are always sort of there. THIS EDIT IS ALWAYS GOING TO SIT IN THE BACK OF MY BRAIN WHERE I TRY TO COPE.

AND if you STILL need convincing that Proshipping isn't okay, please watch this video from Drama Kween, as she explains how this shit is gross.

Sure, it doesn't speak on the Bluey fandom, but still explains that this is NOT OKAY.

I hope my fellow Anti-Proshippers have a wonderful day, and that Proshippers think about how their actions affect actual people.

[johnathansimsaskblog]

What’s the most obviously fake statement you’ve ever gotten?

Greetings, thank you for your question.

Unfortunately, working at The Magnus Institute means that plenty of the statements we receive are lacking in evidence, and even more so in viable witnesses. We have our fair share of people recounting their drugs trips or people struggling with their mental health, whom we are able to redirect to the appropriate resources, counselling, and health care as necessary.

We also, however, have plenty of people who would happily sacrifice the academic integrity of this institution for a dumb joke or foolish prank. Due to this, I have to trawl through countless tall tales of nonsense to come across even one statement that has the slightest ring of truth to it. We have had several cases of people recounting the plots of movies as their "statements", Night at the Museum and Shrek 2 being some of the stand outs in my memory. I believe some of my assistants have taken to framing particularly ridiculous statements in the break room.

For me, I believe the most memorable was a man who brought in his dog, Mr Muffins, who supposedly could tell the future. The twist was that due to being a dog, he could not communicate such things in any way other than barks or wagging his tail. After Mr Muffins squatted and released his bowels upon my desk, his owner suggested I look for answers in the excrement. I declined, and the man was escorted from the premises.

I must affirm however, that whilst we do deal with a large number of false statements, we do also deal with true ones. It is vital for the investigation of such things to be taken seriously and with the utmost integrity. I ask that you only visit the institute should you have a real statement to give, or genuine research in the paranormal to partake in.

Thank you for your question.

- Jonathan Sims

[astra-galaxie]

“Mister Bontemps, you're back! And you've brought a friend! Would you like more gingerbread? Or a muffin?” - Ivy Noel

Biographical information

Full Name: Ivy Noel

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Status: Alive

Age: 16 (season 4)

Birth: 1874

Race: Human

Nationality: French-American

Origin: Concordia, USA

Residence: Concordia, USA

Past profession(s): Cookie Seller

Affiliation(s): Le Levain Roma Bakery

Profile

Height: 5’1” Age: 16 (season 4) Weight: 125lbs Eyes: green Blood: A-

While working in the bakery, Ivy keeps her brown hair pinned up into a bun and sometimes wears a scarf or hat to protect her hair. She wears a white barker’s shirt underneath a red apron and black trousers. Lastly, the dark teal scarf from her first appearance is wrapped around her neck.

As per her suspect appearance in Ring In The New Death, it is known that Ivy eats panettone.

Synopsis

Ivy is a baker and cookie seller for the famous Italian bakery Le Levain Roma. She briefly appears in Rowdy Rick's murder investigation when Argo and Issac question her about who bought gingerbread from her.

Later, on New Year's Eve, Ivy returned as a suspect in the murder of Romulus Fabbri after clues led Isaac and Maddie to her workplace. During her first interrogation, Ivy claimed not to know anything about the murder or Romulus but was shocked to hear the man was dead. She told the detectives that he had visited the bakery, and she served him cannolis with him leaving her a tip in return. She explained that he was charming and had promised to visit the bakery again, but unknown to Isaac and Maddie, Ivy was omitting some information from her statement.

Further into the investigation, Isaac and Maddie discover Ivy’s necklace in one of their crime scenes. When they questioned her about how it could have gotten there, Ivy admitted that Romulus had ripped the necklace off her neck and taken it after she refused to refund him. Ivy swore she hadn’t killed Romulus and planned to beg him to return the necklace after her shift. Luckily, it was proven that Ivy didn’t kill Romulus after the actual killer was arrested.

Ivy appeared one more time during that case’s additional investigation. When Maddie, Charlie and Jason visited the bakery, she fulfilled their request for some bomboloni. She gave them to the group for free as thanks for everything they had done and New Haven. Ivy invited them to come back and visit any time, and she would ensure treats would always be waiting for them!

Story Information

First appeared: A Murder Carol

Trivia

She is a canon character from Mysteries of The Past. She’s the cookie seller the player and Isaac met during A Murder Carol

I considered naming her Holly as I wanted a Christmas-themed name, but I associate that name with Holly Hopper, so I went with Ivy, from the song The Holly and The Ivy instead

Her surname, Noel, means Christmas in French

She loves cookies. Her favourite kinds are chocolate chip and gingerbread

Likewise, she always smells like freshly baked cookies

Gallery

This is Ivy’s canon appearance in the game.

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad) Murders of The Past (Ao3/Wattpad)

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Changing Channels

Welcome to “‘Supernatural is filmed before a live studio audience’: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s5e8: Changing Channels.

Sam comes home to the boys’ bright, sunny apartment to find that Dean has been shirking his research in favor of entertaining a bikini-clad lady. Oh, and there’s a laugh track. What? Rewind. A few days earlier, the boys are investigating the death of a man with anger-management problems who seems to have been killed by the Incredible Hulk. Sam suspects the Trickster, and suggests trying to convince him to help them stop the apocalypse. When they go to an abandoned warehouse thinking they have a lead on where the Trickster will be, they get zapped into a hospital where everyone thinks they are doctors, doctors who seem to be caught up in a great deal of personal drama. The boys are stuck on TV, making their way through a number of shows, including Doctor Sexy, Dean’s “guilty pleasure” medical drama. They catch the Trickster, and he tells them to “play their roles” before disappearing. With the help of Cas, they figure out the Trickster must actually be an angel, trap him in holy fire, and make him explain himself. He’s Gabriel, and he insists Sam and Dean must play their roles in the apocalypse and that the boys mirror the conflict in Heaven, with Dean the faithful son (Michael) and Sam the rebellious one, who chaffed under his father’s rules (Lucifer). Dean rejects all this, but they are both shaken.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Mace:

I LOVE THIS EPISODE

Lor:

ME TOO IT'S SO GOOD

Mace:

YASYASYAS

Mace:

You know what the Latin is for a sword’s sheath, Dean? Because that’s pretty much what you are to Michael, right?

Lor:

LOLOL

Lor:

I love that they drop you in with no idea what's going on

Mace:

YES

Mace:

these silly eps are where we really actually see how amazing these two are as actors, I think

Lor:

YES YES YES I was just thinking that

Mace:

omg the theme song!

Lor:

omg the son of a bitch

Mace:

YES

Lor:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA YES

Lor:

and the montage behind it

Mace:

how much stupid fun must they have had making this

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

AND THEY’RE IN OHIO

Lor:

YES

Lor:

OMG Dean your face

Mace:

YES

Lor:

YOU WERE NOT CHANNEL SURFING DEAN YOU WERE WATCHING YOUR DOCTOR CRUSH

Mace:

poor Dean. Sammy’s scorn won’t let him admit that

smacks Sammy upside

Lor:

right? don't kick him when he's a confused muffin, Sammy

Mace:

brothers. yeesh.

Lor:

LOL!

Lor:

Banner or Norton? I LOVE HIM

Mace:

BANNER OR NORTON

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

Dean, bud, that doesn’t even make sense

Lor:

lololol

Lor:

"you might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry" LOL

Mace:

I was talking to the fly in the kitchen this morning and told him, “Stay right there, bud, until I get the swatter” and then I felt bad calling him “bud” before killing him. I have issues, I think.

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

they are both looking particularly lovely this ep

Mace:

they really really are

Lor:

oh Dean. you're gonna ally with so many worser dudes than Gabe, honey

Mace:

right?!

Lor:

mmmm scanners. sounds like childhood

Mace:

…what?

Lor:

my dad. it was one of his hobbies. he listened to them for funsies. to the best of my knowledge, he was not using the info to hunt the supernatural

Mace:

Ah. interesting.

Lor:

OMG Sam's face after she slaps him the second time

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"that's your theory?" well, he's right, Deano

Mace:

HA

Lor:

"I dunno. it is compelling" LOL

Lor:

OMG Dean's reaction to Dr. Sexy versus all the others

Lor:

HON.

Mace:

OMG Dean’s “doctor"

Lor:

YAAAAS

Mace:

YESYESYES

Mace:

he is so crushed out

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

"yeah, you're not a fan" lol Sammy

Mace:

oooh he slammed him up against the wall...

Lor:

HE REALLY REALLY DID

Lor:

omg I love him

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“my own little idiot box” and who, exactly is the idiot here, Gabe? So. Many. Choices.

Lor:

"you two muttonheads broke the world" LOL

Lor:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

omg his eyebrow waggle

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

the soundtrack omg

Lor:

"it's real, it's real"

Mace:

omg DEAN

Mace:

SAM’S FACE

Lor:

OH SO HE CAN GET SHOT IN THE BACK AND FUCKING SAM CAN SAVE HIM BUT A LITTLE REBAR IS THE END?!

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA

Mace:

HE SAID STAT

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

omg the game show coming for Sam

right?

Mace:

omg their FACES

Lor:

OMG the FACES

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOL

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

CAS!

Mace:

YES

Mace:

PRETTY BOY ANGELS

Lor:

"mister trickster does not like pretty boy angels"

Mace:

i mean, he’s not wrong

Lor:

YES

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

he is very pretty

Lor:

he really is

Lor:

OMG Dean's face when he hits the button

Mace:

YES

Lor:

SOMEONE CAST HIM IN A COMEDY RIGHT NOW

Mace:

RIGHT?! BOTH OF THEM

Lor:

YES

Mace:

HAHAHAHA THE COMMERCIAL

Lor:

YES

Lor:

omg the side effects

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“slightly lessen the spread” HAHAHAHA

Lor:

YES

Mace:

“how is that funny?!”

Lor:

"how was that funny?" LOLOL talking to the laugh track

Lor:

YES

Mace:

YES

Mace:

oooh Cas with his little cuts

Mace:

HOT

Lor:

YESYESYES

Lor:

oooo now Dean is getting pushed up against a wall

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

OMG I FORGOT ABOUT THE CSI ONE

Mace:

ME TOO

Mace:

omg they look SO GOOD

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

WOULD WATCH

Mace:

“no talent douchebags"

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

"calm down?! I am wearing SUNGLASSES at night"

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Lor:

OMG THE WALK DED

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

I’m gonna need Sammy to keep that bright blue shirt

Mace:

OMG SAMMY

Lor:

YES

Lor:

I'm gonna need Dean to keep those sunglasses

Mace:

YES

Lor:

Dean, baby, the decor is the same. Pay attention

Mace:

right?

Lor:

THE MUSIC

Mace:

YES

Mace:

I LOVED KIT as a kid

Lor:

YES!

Lor:

the leaves shot

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“should I honk?"

Mace:

AHAHAHA

Mace:

“eat me”

Lor:

"should I honk?" HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOLOL

Lor:

"nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs" I LOVE HIM. he could just say "put Sam back" but no, because it's Dean

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

"we pulled it out of Sam's ass"

Mace:

SNORK

Lor:

SAMMY

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"they call me Gabriel"

Lor:

aw, Gabe. I love the little jerk

Mace:

AGREED

Lor:

"you sorry sons a bitches"

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"you were born to this boys" "as it is in heaven, so it must be on earth" I LOVE IT IT'S SO DUMB BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH IT MAKES ME ALL BOUNCY

Mace:

It’s really nice and parallelly

Lor:

yep

Mace:

chosen ones and cycles so good

Lor:

YES

Lor:

oooo nice upside down shot in the water

Lor:

"first of all, you can bring Cas back" pets him

Mace:

YES

Mace:

Gabe has really nice eyes

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

Oh Dean. Kettle much?

Lor:

yeeeeah

Lor:

he was hot when he busted the fire alarm though, so

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"I wish I was back on a tv show"

Mace:

oooof

Lor:

RIGHT?

[gopped]

so… remember when I said I wanted to create the most 2015 out of character most cringe fanfic about durgetash and I had that pole asking if I should actually write it (as well as some actual serious durgetash which I will.) well…. I did it. Any bad use of grammar/ spelling are 100% on purpose, this is not a serious fic aka please don’t think this is how I actually write.

enjoy 984 words of pure torture.

Hey my name is The Dark Urge but everyone calls me Durge for short. I’m really poggers and epic because I was born from the blood of Bhaal, yeah Bhaals my dad, suck on that posers. I have ivory-white scales and eyes the color of blood being splashed on the deepest of rubies. And I’m a storm sorcerer, studying to do magic is for losers! Plus I have this super cool slayer form that literally makes me so badass. As the true spawn of Bhaal you could say I have it all, I have a whole cult at my beck and call, all the different corpses I can eat… but there’s one thing I don’t have yet. There’s this one guy….. The chosen of Bane, we made like this pact thing that says I can’t harm him but it never said I couldn’t fuck him. And by the gods I will. I want him to be my shmoopie snuggluffagus cutie pookie patootie pudding muffin, but my dad is like a total buzz kill so I have to apologize for even thinking about putting a ring on that. Anyways his names Enver Gortash but he prefers for me to call him Enver because we’re close like that and I’m special and all that fun stuff. Plus I’m so much better that the depressed pile of dust and bones we also have to work with, ugh he’s such a boomer.

So here I am walking into Moonrise Towers so we can start discussing our super foolproof evil plans for how to take over the world. My super platform docs stomp against the stone steps to enter the tower, I glare at a few of the various subjects of other cults, idk which ones though, all I know is they’re not as cool as I am. Their probably posers and preps for all I know. But again, I don’t care. I make my grand entrance into the throne like room, doves flying behind me as light shines behind me, I’m just that important to like the world and stuff. I whip off my super cool angular anime sunglasses and I look around the room I see my pookie schmookie goth fantasy man boo-boo bear sugar goober standing off to the side and I see the old decaying grandpa corpse sitting on the big chair at the end of the room. Ugh, he’s the worst, and not even in a fun way, he won’t shut up about how his daughter doesn’t want to talk to him anymore and how he’s literally only here because of her, like how boring can a backstory get? He begins to speak. “Ah how nice of you to finally join us, you’re over an hour late.” He grumbles out, I swear theres like a moth living where his brain should be doesn’t he know that you have to be fashionably late? “Umm yeah.” I say, “that’s the point, what kind of nerd actually shows up on time.” I say rolling my perfect blood red eyes, making sure I show my sharp teeth as I scoff at him for extra effect. “Whatever, let’s just start the meeting already.” The reanimated corpse groans out, bones cracking as he repositions himself in his high chair. I cross my arms over my chest because I’m mysterious and awesome as the guy begins to speak, I don’t pay attention my sister is probably around here somewhere I’ll just ask her for the spark notes version. Gods I want to kill someone. Like I don’t have to, but I’m bored and it’s something I enjoy doing. Then I notice something in the corner of the room, while the old man goes on and on I go and investigate, the something I noticed was a cultist, not one of mine of course, they knew better. Upon further inspection, they don’t even seem to be a cultist, their robes look homemade with no reference to what they’re even supposed to be wearing. And they seem to be snooping around too, ugh it’s probably some Harper spy or something. Well, might as well get my kill count up while I’m here I guess… I approach them and before they could even begin to utter an excuse I shove my dagger in their mouth, dragging it against the roof of their mouth and tongue and pushing it down their throat. I watch with glee as the fear in their eyes gets worse as they start to choke on their own blood. I wiggle my blade, making the gashes in their mouth wider as I do so. I could stop there, but where’s the fun in that? I pull my dagger out to watch them cough and sputter out their own blood, uselessly clawing at their throat. Ugh, what a poser, I bet that even before I did that they wouldn’t be able to name 3 MCR songs.. I shove the spy onto the ground as they look up at me almost pleading with their eyes. Ugh it’s disgusting. So I take my dagger and I begin to hit them, it’s at this point I notice that the boring guy stopped speaking and the room was silent except for the occasional blood gurgle. I pull out the persons intestines and that’s when Gorts and my eyes meet across the room. It’s like so romantic like I swear someone casted like stop time or something… him and his pepsi dark eyes… I tuck some of the blood around my tympanum, gods he’s like so hot. Like the hottest I’ve seen in my 40 years of dreadful existence. Then he walks over to me and my heart goes doki doki he knees beside me on the other side of the now corpse and we start making out. No lips no tongue, all teeth. And then we took control of the netherbrain and got married.

The end.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

i am willing to sit through whatever criticism or opinions you have on shining, its adaptation or King in general, please, Muffin!

... I earned this, didn't I?

That's a lot of topics so I think I'll just talk about The Shining.

Personally, I like Kubrick's film adaptation better.

Some Background

King infamously initially despised Stanley Kubrick's film adaptation of The Shining. He really didn't pay too much attention to film adaptations of his work before that point (even the really shitty ones) but hated The Shining. (To this day, while he's calmed down, he still doesn't really like it all that much.)

This was, in part, because it's an extremely loose adaptation. It takes the setting, the premise, characters with the same name but the characters only share the same name.

In King's version, Jack is a good man, albeit with a predilection towards alcoholism, who is driven irrevocably mad by the hotel and has this tragic descent into becoming the hotel's pawn. Wendy has a much stronger personality, is less dependent on Jack who never saw Jack's madness coming (because it wasn't). Then we have the ending changing where Hallorann, Danny, and Wendy all escape and survive and the boiler explodes because Jack has been too busy going insane to remember his basic duties.

In Kubrick's version, Jack is a man very fragilely gripping sanity when he enters the hotel, who is enabled and driven on by the hotel and descends back into alcoholism and domestic abuse. Wendy is a mild-mannered woman who at first starts as an apologist for her husband, and then has to somehow find the will to fight back against him when he loses his mind. Then, of course, we have the ending where Hallorann dies and Jack freezes to death in the outdoor hedge maze.

Add into this that Jack is an SI for King himself (who struggled with alcoholism that has informed a lot of his books), and Jack starting out as this thinly veiled horrendous madman versus being an every man who is driven beyond the bend by the hotel, and you basically get something that isn't King's novel.

It's an adaptation that didn't actually care about adapting the core values of The Shining. Just the setting and the premise.

And I'm alright with that.

Why Kubrick Over King?

The Shining is one of the most visually stunning films to ever be made. It is infamous for a reason and has lasted so many decades in popular imagination for that same reason. Even though it was despised at the time it made an impression.

Everyone remembers the tricycle, the blood elevator, the lady in the bath, the hedge maze, the typewriter, "Here's Johnny", the bathroom, the barman, and pretty much every damn scene in this movie.

Beyond that though, I enjoy the ending more as we don't get what, to me, felt like a bit of deus ex machina as the boiler explodes right at that moment. I enjoy that Wendy is someone you can easily picture as being trapped in this abusive relationship, why she's stayed in it for so long, and truly feeling her terror when it goes over the edge. I enjoy that we don't get as much of the investigation by Jack into the hotel as, frankly for me, that just ate up time and wasn't that interesting.

I enjoy that we don't see much of Danny's imaginary friend "Tony" or "Redrum" for that matter. We see enough to get the idea, but not enough to make it repetitive (as it gets a uh little repetitive in the book).

I also just really like Nichelson as an actor, especially when he's allowed to go full scary or crazy. The man does an excellent job of being fucking terrifying.

This isn't to say the novel is bad, and I am colored by having seen the film first, but if you're making me choose a more memorable iconic version I'd pick the film.

Why Muffin Mentioned It Last Time

The reason I nearly ranted here, was that I was about to launch into a whole rant that what people remember most about The Shining is not the novel but the film. They remember the scenes from the film, and part of this isn't the writing, it's the cinematography and the directing by Kubrick.

So, the idea of "what scenes would be most remembered in the Twilight horror novel" translated in my brain to "You mean the film adaptation, who's directing? Are they actually adapting the novel or doing whatever the fuck they want?" And then I realized I wasn't actually answering anon's question and no one wanted to hear me gushing over The Shining.

[tobiasdrake]

Okay. I have my capitalist-whomping stick and a pumpkin spice muffin manufactured by the culinary engines of capitalism. I am ready to throw down in what is literally an intellectual thunderdome.

Yeah, it is surprising that Makoto's end-goal for entering the Mystery Labyrinth is more or less just "cool battleground for our fight".

Problem is, I don't know how he's planning on getting out. The only known way to leave the Labyrinth is when Yuma solves the mystery and reaps the culprit's soul. A visitor tagging along only leaves if they're with Yuma when he does that.

Shinigami has mentioned a second way but warned repeatedly that it comes at a terrible price. Maybe you have to, like, sacrifice Yuma? Which Makoto would be fine with.

His plan is to assume the role of L after killing L, so that he can control the Kira investigation and ensure the truth is never found.

I don't disagree. That's why you should be putting your resources into helping them, rather than simply preserving them.

Like, c'mon, man. I don't trust the UG either. Those assholes want to make immortal super-soldiers out of homunculi. You did a good thing by breaking the city free from their control. I agree that if the truth about Kanai Ward were exposed to the world, you'd lose that bargaining chip.

The only thing protecting this city from exploitation and genocide is blackmail. Once that trigger's fired, it loses those protections. I get that.

How about, instead of stabbing each other, we all put down our swords and talk through ways to manage safe, ethical research into homunculus physiology using Amaterasu resources? Can we do that? Everyone?

Vivia's finally getting through to Yuma. But. Like.

I'm not one for centrism. Often times, the centrist position is simply a refusal to engage with either side of the argument.

But. Like.

There has to be a middle ground between

1 - Let's expose the truth to the world and then let UG do whatever it wants to the homunculi of Kanai Ward! 2 - Let's keep the homunculi forever imprisoned within a cage of rain, gradually dying out over decades until all that's left is the barren husk of a city and a well-populated zombie enclosure.

I don't want to fight Makoto over this. But I don't think his autocratic leadership is enough.

I mean. He's not wrong on that front. The Mystery Labyrinth is a truly awful justice system. We've been wantonly murdering people left and right, something I've never shied away from criticizing our methodology for.

But. Like.

Your morality isn't defined by what you're against. It's defined by what you're for. This is not a tug-of-war. Yuma's flaws do not make Makoto good by default. "Everybody sucks here" is a valid outcome.

If exposed externally? This city will become ripe for exploitation by UG, who would want to take control of any effort to stabilize the defective homunculi for their own immortal soldier programs. If they aren't slaughtered outright.

But that's no reason not to expose the truth internally. Kanai Ward's an isolated city-state with no contact with the outside world so there's little fear of information leaking out. And once people know, they can work together to help solve the problem. After an adjustment period of outrage and panic, of course.

Which is why they should have a voice in it. Makoto is not their voice. He's as much an outsider as Yuma. He's just the outsider who's decided he knows what's best for them.

You can push through this, Yuma. You can--

Nope, there we go. Guess we're jumping, then.

Oh hey, a Labyrinth portal. In the Labyrinth. Will we have to solve the Mystery Within a Mystery of Why Makoto's Full of Shit?

Let's see, I drew....

That's an okay hand. I'll play Margulaw first because he's good for filtering and accelerating mana....

Don't fall for the false dichotomy, Yuma. Makoto says there are only two outcomes here: Ultimate doom for Kanai Ward or keeping things as is. He would ask you to choose between them. But you don't have to play his game.

Who says those are the only options? Him? He came here to stab you. Why are we letting him define the rules?

One of whom is currently roaming the Restricted Area as a feral and the other four are "dead" with conspicuously pink homunculus bloodstains.

Makoto and Yuma have the same manners of thinking and reacting to stress. I wonder why that might be.

To be fair, that's for good reason. You're a monster who kills people.

Nice to finally get a flashback of Number One's pact with Shinigami.

Shinigami was Number One's answer to Yomi's silencing methods. Makoto and Number One weren't in cahoots. They were simply both playing long games against Yomi.

Knowing that it was Yuma who said all of this makes it hit... about the same, really.

But Number One's philosophy may be more complicated than it appears. I note that he keeps qualifying the exposing of the truth. He wants a perfect solution, not just a solution. He wants to expose the truth to make everyone happy, not just to expose the truth. By that logic, if the truth didn't help everyone then it wasn't a good enough truth, right?

Of course, he also quoted this bit again.

So, y'know, maybe he still sucks and I'm giving him too much credit. There is no "perfect solution" for Kanai Ward without empathy for the people living in the city. The WDO creed is Logic Bro propaganda.

I like Shinigami's addendum here. Everybody has their own morality; Their own interpretation of the facts. But you need to first lay out the facts before you can decide how you want to interpret them.

The acquisition of knowledge is never, in itself, wrong. One must acquire knowledge before they can decide what to do with it.

However, this does fall flat given that Shinigami's superpower is committing spirit-murder of the killer regardless of whether they were in the right or not. Historically, Shinigami has never empowered Yuma to figure out for himself whether the truth is correct. Once the truth becomes known, Shinigami always forces his hand to do one and only one thing with it. Her powers decide what we do with the information, not Yuma.

The metaphysics aren't meshing well with the message she's trying to deliver here.

[bilightningwhumper]

Shadow of a Sheild (Old Version)

~plans to rewrite/modify~

Chapter Two

<<Back . Masterlist . Next>> (The "next" on Ao3 is a note letting folks know this is to be re-written)

Summary:

Steve struggles to move on before creating a new normal

Notes:

Sort of beta read, for the first half, not the second. Not all happy with it, but first chapters and I have never gotten along well. Hope it was worth the wait anyway. It won't be till chapter 4 or 5 till I get to the already written stuff that I've had a better time writing.

Ao3 link

    After the phone call with Tony, Steve threw himself into any project he could: helping with world relief efforts to recover from the second snap; building the new compound; working out in the gym of the Tower. Anything but thinking about his pup.

     Tony had returned to mostly living at the cabin, while Clint returned to his farm. Both still came to visit. Steve’s heart lurched every time they interacted with their pups. Even seeing Tony with Peter hurt. So he tended to avoid them.

     Without his knowledge, Tony had reached out to Peggy’s remaining family, who Steve had met briefly at her funeral. As it turns out, Peggy had left him some things regarding Jamie. However, they’d been instructed not to send them until he’d learned about her existence.

     He’d touched none of it since it had arrived, instead shoving it back into his closet under some winter clothing and blankets. It wasn’t much. Just an old locked storage chest with Jamie’s name carved on the lid's front side above the latch. A small letter envelope, aged yellow with time, had some weight to it, also for Jamie. Addressed to him were a newer, thick file-sized envelope and a small cardboard box wrapped in paper and twine. All of it gathering dust. He wasn’t brave enough to investigate any of it. What was the point?

     Bucky had grown the sickest of his moping everywhere, even if he didn’t say it aloud. Since Sam had taken the shield, Bucky had gone on missions with him. Partly to work on team building and to give Steve some space. He’d gotten more and more like the old friend he’d known before the Winter Soldier. Especially since Sam had learned how shitty his government-mandated therapist was and found him a better one. (They’d both been pushing Steve to get his own, which he’d also avoided.) So his best friend took matters into his own hands like he always did, gently but firmly healing his aching heart: the omega started passive-aggressively courting him. 

     Steve melted when he woke up to warm muffins waiting on the counter of their Tower kitchen. They shared a floor in the Tower, just the two of them. But Steve hadn’t worked up the nerve to court Bucky himself yet. The longer he did nothing, new surprises slowly appeared. Clean laundry showed up in a basket outside his door, with a note saying to take care of himself. Painting and drawing supplies somehow ended up on the kitchen table, another note accompanying it with the message that the apartment was too bare.

      Steve made sure to return the efforts after that. A friendly competition started. He still couldn’t move on, forget the secrets in his closet. But it was growing easier to smile, easier to breathe. 

     When Bucky’s heat rolled around, it synced up with his rut. Apprehensive, Steve had wanted to hold off spending the time together. Hormones and feelings had weakened that resolve fast. They took as many precautions as possible but were officially mated by the end of their cycles. With any luck, unplanned pups wouldn’t happen. Still, with Bucky purring in his arms, Steve was more content than he had been in months, even years.

—

     “On your left,” Steve said as he passed Sam for the second time, the other man grumbling under his breath as he did.

     They’d taken up their morning routine again as everything settled down again. A new normal with old habits. Bucky declined to join them because “6am is too early.”

     Before he started on a third lap around Central Park, Steve stopped at one of the drinking fountains. He didn’t need to take a break, but it was nice to take in the scenery once in a while, as well as staying hydrated.

     On days like these, he wished he’d brought one of his smaller drawing pads. The morning sun coming over the city and through the park’s trees was beautiful. He must’ve stood there, just admiring the view, for longer than he thought, as he heard Sam apologizing to someone behind him.

     Turning to see the commotion, he saw a young girl in headphones and sunglasses looking sheepish and gesturing her hands in apology as Sam stood back to let her aside. She took off in a jog down another running path as Sam came over to Steve.

     “Didn’t see her coming in the crossway,” Sam explained. “One second there was no one, the next she was in front of me. At least we didn’t hit each other, but it was a close call.”

     Steve tilted his head, as the girl didn’t seem to have been running that fast when she left. But looking around in the direction she’d gone, there was no one in sight.

     “It’s a little early for teens to be out anyway, isn’t it?” To be fair, Steve had little to go on except for Peter and Harley, Tony’s new-er ward, for the habits of the younger generation.

     Sam just shrugged. “Come on, or I’ll beat you in this lap,” he said before taking off down the path again.

     He laughed, easily passing the man again after giving Sam a 10-minute head start.

     Something lingered in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t figure out what, so he just brushed it off and kept running.

—

     Once they (aka Sam) had had enough running, they stopped by a cafe Peter and Tony recommended in the city. It was a quiet place. A little darker than most places, the colors more brown and black than modern designs, and the lights softer as well. But the employees were friendly and the environment was cozy. They ended up taking a seat at a table by the windows, Sam chatting about his family while Steve listened.

     The bell at the door jangled as more people came into the cafe. Steve glanced over in that direction out of habit. Then he did a double-take, though unsure why.

     It was just a few teenagers around Peter’s age, and he was sure he’d seen them before, even though it was his first time at the cafe. They were probably regulars since the boy of the group seemed to know the staff personally. He was chatting with the baristas as the two girls with him stood not too far behind. One of them was the girl Sam had almost run into at the park, brown hair still in a tight braid and no evidence she’d really been running at all. None of them stayed long enough to look at the menu or make an order, but after the boy clearly paid for something, they left the counter towards the back of the cafe.

     Steve caught their scents as they passed their table, mostly jumbled and nothing of note. Except…

     One scent stood out among the others. Incredibly faint, as if the person was on scent blockers or suppressants, which could be likely. He and Bucky had realized with their enhanced senses, they could still smell someone’s scent, regardless of any suppressive measures, as could Peter. As much as they tried to be polite and ignore the scents for others’ privacy, Steve couldn’t help but try and breathe it in more.

     Whoever it was, he’d smelt it before. It always had a familiarity, just never something he could place.

     Out of the three teens, he guessed it could be the brunette. She reminded him of someone. Then again, the familiarity could be a coincidence…

     Steve frowned slightly, looking down at his coffee in thought. He’d actually been seeing that girl a lot lately, though he’d never gotten a good look at her face. Across the street when going on a date with Bucky. On more than one run with Sam, he’d seen her in the park with her two friends. Accidentally bumping into each other on the subway. The more he thought about it, the odder it was.

     Sam’s foot hitting his under the table made him look up.

     “You okay, man?”

     He nodded, though it didn’t seem to convince Sam. “Just something bugging me. It’s probably nothing.”

     “Uh, huh,” Sam gave him a look.

     “I’ll tell you about it later,” he promised, glancing back at the trio again. The girl seemed to be looking at him, but he wasn’t sure because of her glasses. Then she gave him an almost imperceptible nod before turning back to her friends.

     Unnerved, Steve didn’t tell Sam any more, insisting on waiting to talk at the tower. After leaving and getting back to the tower, however, Sam and some of the others were sent off on another mission by Fury. Some days he wished he hadn’t retired, but it was nice to get the apartment to himself.

     That is until he saw an envelope on the counter with his name on it. Opening it, he found a letter and a thumb drive inside. Curious, he unfolded the letter before sitting down in shock.

      Hey, Dad

Notes:

Sorry not sorry for a cliffhanger, lol. I'll probably edit this again later, so I'll make a note when I do. Chapter One I think I'll leave as is (unless I already messed with it again, lol). Any further edits will be for continuity errors the more the fic goes on. Also, check out the collection for this series. I'm making some one-shots for things that may be sneak peeks to come or end up "deleted scenes" that I couldn't fit in the main fic but are still cannon to it.

[kadavernagh]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Bread Cemetery PARTIES: Regan and Jonas SUMMARY: After a heated online debate about the trustworthiness of everything bagels, and Jonas's reassurance in the quality of the ones at his bakery, Regan comes to see for herself. Seems like the perfect time for a possessed bagel.

Regan was willing to chalk this strange talk about dead parakeets up to the hysteria that always seemed to be sweeping the town. But this “Bread Cemetery” seemed worth investigating. Something about people going there to look for ghosts, or… well, she could hardly make sense of what the young man was saying. But it had “cemetery” in the name. At least there was that. And as much as Regan preferred to stay out of local shops – out of sight, really – the thought of a plain bagel was not to be denied. Entering the bakery, nothing really looked out of the ordinary – the place had a rustic feel to it, and there was someone behind the register who looked like they were standing on a stool. For whatever reason, a chill jumped between her vertebrae. Cold, maybe. “Hello?” Regan asked, as if she didn’t already have his attention. “I’m looking to purchase one plain bagel. I’ve heard they’re praise-worthy.” She peered into the display case, admiring the more ornate pastries. “Something sweet, too, perhaps.”

Jonas had been up on a stool in order to reach the top display rack on the counter. It was filled with muffins of different types from blueberry to chocolate chip to corn bread. He smiled as he noticed a customer come in, stepping down from the stool to get a better look at her lips. “A plain bagel and something sweet.” He stood with a hand on his hip, the other was tapping his chin as he thought. “How about a slice of coffee cake?” His hands moved while he spoke and there was a sign on the display case explaining that one of the employees was deaf and might not hear you when you come in. He was glad he had been facing the stranger when she walked in, Lil wasn’t here and if the woman had taken a bad attitude with him for not immediately paying attention he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. 

 He couldn’t help but blame Jacob for it. No matter what he did to try and appease his father the man always managed to find something to yell at him about. Jonas found that even after being away from the man for so long he still froze whenever someone started yelling at him. However this woman seemed nice and he quickly tugged a plain bagel from the back of the row, sipping it into a paper bag, “Um despite its name coffee cake can go well with tea. If you prefer that in the morning.” He paused beside the coffee cake to wait and see if it was to the woman’s liking. He didn’t seem to notice the soft rustling coming from where he was just standing. 

It had been alarming for Regan to learn that her sweet tooth was a characteristic shared by most of the others. Every occasion in Saol Eile was marked with the sweetest of pastries and coffee that was more parts sugar than anything else. And despite knowing the importance of nutrition, the importance of excellent oral hygiene, she just couldn’t help herself at times. A coffee cake sounded pleasant enough, and it only seemed fair to purchase something after occupying someone’s time.

But there was something unusual about how the boy spoke, and when Regan saw how he was gesturing and read the sign on the counter, the pieces clicked together. Could he hear her at all? Or did he need to lip read? The extra attention and scrutiny paid to her face was a little uncomfortable, but Regan made sure she faced his direction when she spoke. “You must be Jonas. We discussed bagels online; I am Dr. Kavanagh. The coffee cake and the plain bagel will be all for now, I think. Th–” The thanks died on her tongue. The others practically removed thank yous from their vocabulary, but now, back in the real world, the temptation to express courtesy returned to her. “I appreciate it. It smells… pleasant in here.”

“That’s because of me. I smell incredible. Come sniff me.” 

A voice came from inside of the display case, and Regan jumped. She didn’t see anyone in there, down there, wherever. Had Jonas somehow thrown his voice? “Was that you? I’m not going to come sniff you.” She wrinkled her nose. Why was he so strange?

“I’m glad you think so we have a fresh batch of bread-” Jonas was cut off by a strange voice coming from down the counter. His eyes widened a little when he noticed a bagel pressed against the display glass, a faint blue glow was coming off of it as it spoke. It seemed to be rolling towards them, seeds falling off the top as it slid against the glass. Jonas flicked his eyes back over to Regan as he noticed her lips moving, “You heard that too? It was not me asking you to sniff me. Why would I do that?” The young man seemed a little more caught up with the fact Regan would think him such a person, now worried about how weird he must come off to the stranger for her to assume he would ask her to do such a thing.  

He knew his voice probably sounded a little weird but that wasn’t something he could help, really why would he ask such a thing? He seemed to deflate his whole mood going downhill as he casually bagged the coffee cake slice in its own paper bag. If this woman got upset over the flavors of an everything bagel he doubted she would want her plain bagel to taste like the topping on the coffee cake. He was only brought out of his despair when he remembered the Everything Bagel making its way towards them. Jonas set Regan’s order on the counter and went to reach for the bag of salt on his hip only to find it wasn’t there.  

“What do you mean, did I hear that?” Regan asked, brow furrowed in confusion. “And I don’t know why you would ask me to sniff you. That’s your business, not mine. Well, I suppose it is mine now. It’s really a strange request to ask of your patrons.” She didn’t like the annoyance edging into her voice, not one bit. She clenched her nails into her palm, a sharp bite of a reminder to bridle her irritation. This was not a situation where it would be permissible. Simply interact with the human and don’t forget its place. A gnat can do little to a lion. But a flea…

“You’re not gonna sniff me? Not even one whiff? I could be your everything.”

“Once more, I’m not going to sniff you,” Regan said firmly, with less expressiveness than before, “though it does smell like fresh bread in here.” Jonas was right about that. And, Regan noticed, he seemed to be staring at the bagels in the display shelves. “Is this about our bagel disagreement? Because I stand by what I said.” She pulled out her wallet, eyeing the pleasantly crinkly paper bags with her food in them. “It’s best to start your day off with something predictable.” But Jonas wasn’t done, it seemed. “Did you bleach all the color out of your face when you did your hair?” And how did he speak while not even perceptibly opening his mouth? Her frown deepened, and she froze with the cash in her hand. “My hair and face are not your concern. If I were you, I would be more concerned with how ephemeral your life is. Gone in the blink of an eye.” It was a threat with no teeth, not truly intended to evoke fear, but it was the truth stated plainly.

“I am sorry but I am not the one asking you.” Jonas gestured towards the bagel behind the glass, “I uh well I know this will sound weird but there is a ghost in the bagel. If um you don’t mind waiting for a second I can get some salt to make it leave.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to do a seance in front of Regan or talk to a pervert of a bagel that was making him look like one as well. His voice was still a little down as he spoke knowing this was probably going to make him seem more strange but it was hard to deny that the bagel which was moving on its own was weird. The only problem now was that Blue was resting in his shadow at the moment and if he went into the backroom to get salt she would have to come out. He wasn’t sure how a woman who was yelling at him for something an everything bagel was spouting out would handle a dog behind the counter. Sure Blue did not shed but Regan didn’t know that. 

“Please stop asking her to sniff you, it is very inap-” Jonas was cut off by the insult the bagel threw out at Regan. Was the bagel trying to neg her since she ignored its first advances? He sighed when Regan threw out a threat towards him, he could understand the anger the bagel was incredibly rude he was just wishing it wasn’t being directed at him. 

“A ghost in the bagel. That’s the oldest excuse in the book.” …Right? Regan didn’t have a lot of experience with this type of harassment. She predominantly dealt with angry next of kin who spat in her face or voiced their denial straight at her, and none of them gave excuses about ghost bagels. The others, though, loved to talk about ghosts. As if they were real. And while in Saol Eile, Regan had seen a few things she couldn’t explain, which she could only chalk up to her brain not being quite right since the trauma she endured. Referring to those inexplicable apparitions as ghosts was not a concession she was willing to make.

Finally, she looked down at the everything bagel, and waggled at her, shaking off some of its seasoning. How was it – were strings attached? Just what was Jonas doing here? “I don’t think giving the bagel more seasoning is going to accomplish anything,” she said, tired, “How about you simply take my money?” Regan pushed the dollar bills on the counter and grabbed her bag of food, crinkling it between her fingers. So maybe she was a little tense. “I’m full of onions, and you know what they do? They make people cry.” The bagel gave a harder waggle and seemed to be floating upward, out of the display. Regan’s grip on the bag tightened. “Jonas, this is not funny. I’m leaving your store a bad review.”

Was it? Jonas had never heard that excuse before until right now and it really wasn’t so much of an excuse as just the truth. Sure he was used to people calling him a fraud and denying that ghosts exist, but never when one was actively working in front of them. Regan was working on a level of doubt that was surprising even him at this point. He was stressed, and when Regan mentioned leaving a bad review he could feel his eyes start to water. An embarrassing trait he didn’t like to admit was how easily he cried when stress built up. A side effect of having lived with his father that he never was able to shake. 

“The salt will um it will - “ He could feel his cheeks getting wet and lifted his sleeve to dab at his eyes. Gosh this was embarrassing. “It will dispel the ghost.” His voice wavered as he tried to explain. He started to sniffle and was doing his best not to break down in front of the woman. Blue finally sensing something was wrong, pulled herself from slumber and out of his shadow to see just why Jonas was crying. “I swear I am not doing that.” Blue tilted her head at her boy, his voice sounded more off than normal and she licked his cheek. It was easy for the massive dog to reach. He reached out one hand to pet his best friend, hoping her form was enough to break line of sight with Regan so he could try to stop the tears falling from his eyes. Blue looked around to fully access the situation, noticing the bagel now hovering above the counter and the woman standing behind it clutching some paper bags. Her ears went flat as she stared at the stranger trying to figure out if it was her or the bagel that had upset Jonas so much. 

The wet twinkle in Jonas’s eyes disgusted Regan. Such display of emotion was beneath her, but, she remembered, Jonas was something else. Or rather, she was. Regan kept herself from recoiling and simply turned her chin up. She could only hear it getting worse. The clogged sniffle of a nose and wavering of his voice made that tiny pit form somewhere deep inside of her, and she slowly faced Jonas. Indeed, he had shiny trails of tears beneath his eyes. Gross. She’d take flaccid, post-mortem eyeballs instead, any day. “It’s just a stupid prank.” Regan offered, firmly, only realizing as she said it that it was an attempt to make Jonas feel better. No. To appease. She could reframe it to herself, justify it. 

Even through Jonas’s tears, and even as he seemed distracted by his own feet, he managed to do that weird voice again. And spoke about himself in 3rd person. “He cries alllll the time. A total crybaby. Lady, do you know how many times a day he has to dry off the floors in this place? He could salt all of the pastries with his tears!” The bump bump against the case happened again, and when Regan looked, the everything bagel was pushing against the glass. She froze. Gave Jonas a hard look. A really hard look. For a moment, she swore she saw a dog next to him – a huge, dark beast with pointy ears that tenderly pushed its muzzle right against Jonas’s side. Unhygienic, and she wasn’t sure how she missed it, but it was clear there was no way he was physically manipulating the bagel. 

Regan’s eyes flashed toward the bagel again, and now she could see what wasn’t apparent before; it was surrounded by some kind of swirling miasma. Was it… rotting? Was that the issue? Was it growing some kind of hallucinogenic mold? The bagel seemed to go as still as she was when she looked straight at it. Regan blinked. The aura of filth was gone. “You – you need to clean better in here. That’s the problem.” “I told you, he cleans constantly. It’s all the tears. And do you know what’s even worse than a dog peeing urine? A dog peeing–” “Stop.” Regan hissed, more frustrated than she typically allowed herself, but not enough to be swept away by the fleeting emotion. “That bagel,” she pointed, “has an entire ecosystem of mold and bacteria and who-knows-what-else growing on it. It’s probably hiding in the seasoning. That’s why they can’t be trusted. Personally, I would throw it out and not sell everything bagels in the future.” She paused, her eyes drifting to the empty spot by Jonas’s side, where a dog had been moments before. “And your dog was too close to the food, in my opinion.” With a shallow sigh, she made eye contact with Jonas, trying to feign some of the kindness she knew once lived within her during moments like this. But she had barely seen a single tear in years. Even next of kin rarely got more than a watery smile from her. “There’s no reason to cry. One moldy bagel – I’m sure it happens to all bakeries. Maybe it’s utterly unremarkable. As long as it’s removed and precautions are taken.” 

Jonas couldn’t see what Regan was saying due to the fact he was looking at his feet though he could hear the bagel just fine and despite himself could feel his cheek flushing even more. He pressed his sleeved hands against his eyes in an attempt to get the waterworks to stop but his tear ducts just wouldn’t comply. “I am sorry I do not mean to cry. Things have been stressful lately.” He had no idea if the words coming out were intelligible against the wavering he could feel happening. He tried his best to see through the watery mess to see what new excuse Regan had for the bagel’s rude words. 

He wasn’t sure if it was worth trying to correct her anymore, the woman was clearly one to stay in denial. If Jonas had been in a better mental state he probably would have just smiled and seen her out but with the recent people following him, his family missing, Lil getting too busy to really hang out and having to run two family businesses he was in no state to just simply let things go. “There is no mold, I keep the bakery very clean.” He wasn’t sure what could be worse than a dog peeing urine but he was glad Regan cut the bagel off. “I am sorry the bagel is being weird with you here. Please do not write a bad review.” He doubted every bakery had a haunted bagel slandering them and making weird advances towards their customers. He also realized just how pathetic he was sounding at this moment. 

Blue finally decided enough was enough, she shoved her head into the case taking hold of the bagel before jumping over the counter and shoving it in the woman’s pocket. Seeing the bagel was secure, she grabbed at Regan’s sleeve and doing her best to lead the woman out of her bakery. Jonas didn’t bother trying to stop the big dog, just wanting this awful encounter to be over. 

Galen, more crying. Why couldn’t they all just contain themselves like any respectable banshee? Because they weren’t banshees. Regan sighed. “You don’t need to apologize for crying. You’re only human.” She could barely understand what else he was saying, and it wasn’t because of his deafness, but the tearful gargling in his voice. Something about the bagel being weird, an apology, and did she mishear him saying the place was very clean? It obviously wasn’t. Regan tore her purchase away from the counter and decided it was past time to leave. All of this over a bagel. 

“Oh boohoo–” The voice came from the display again, and it was just as quickly silenced in the muzzle of the same huge, black dog from before. It leapt over the counter, big as a bear but graceful as a deer, and before Regan could protest she had the dog’s gross wet nose in the pocket of her sweater, and its teeth around her sleeve. “Get your dog off of me!” She hiss through gritted teeth, knowing that one misplaced emotion, one syllable too harsh, and the dog could end up splattered against the bakery walls. “Now. Get it off. It shouldn’t even be h–”

But she was already outside, pushed to the stairs, with the door slammed unceremoniously behind her. By a dog of all things. And from inside of her pocket, there was a gravely, bagel-y voice.

“That furball took a bite out of me.”