#no I never saw that guinea pig again after he was given away it’s dead now even thought it would be barely middle aged

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

why is it always my fucking responsibility to take care of the fucking cats my GOD why did we ever even get cats

[seaweed-brain2-0]

Not only is it Percy Jackson's birthday today, it is also Percabeth's (12th??) Anniversary, so here are some of the best Percabeth moments in PJO and PJO alone. [The light blue is just me being me]

“You drool when you sleep.” (obviously)

“Me, go with you on the… the ‘Thrill Ride of Love’? How embarrassing is that? What if someone saw me?” (It was at this scene when I knew, these two would be my comfort couple in the future)

“I don’t know what my mom will do, I just know I’ll fight next to you.” “Why?” “Because you’re my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?”

Annabeth’s shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls—I told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched me and told me to shut up. (ah, young love)

PERCY CARRYING AROUND ANNABETHS PICTURE IN HIS NOTEBOOK TO REMIND HIMSELF THAT SHE WAS REAL no i’m not taking this one straight from the book, the paragraph is too long.

But whenever Annabeth talked about the time she spent with them, I kind of felt . . . I don’t know. Uncomfortable? No. That’s not the word. The word was jealous. (and it still took him four years to realize he was in love with her??)

She looked good. Really good. I probably would’ve been tongue-tied if I could’ve said anything except ‘reet, reet, reet’.

She tackled me with a hug, then pulled away just as quickly. “I’m glad you’re not a guinea pig.” “Me, too.” I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt. (nine year old me is SCREAMING)

“I’ll get us back to the ship,” I told her. “It’s okay. Just hang on.” Annabeth nodded to let me know she was better now, and then she murmured something I couldn’t hear because of the plugs in my ears. (THE INTIMACY)

The crowd cheered. Annabeth planted a kiss on my cheek. The roaring got a lot louder after that. (THEIR FIRST KISS DFGHJNBGVFDFGH why am I still fangirling over this, I've seen them kiss a billion times-)

“Um, who should I ask?” She punched me in the gut. “Me, Seaweed Brain.” “Oh. Oh, right.” (✨slow dance✨)

[Aphrodite] When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. (I repeat: AND IT STILL TOOK HIM FOUR YEARS TO REALIZE HE WAS IN LOVE WITH HER????)

“You didn’t believe I was dead?” “Never.” (I believe I was dead at this point)

“I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall. And . . . I think I owe you a dance.” She smiled slowly. “All right, Seaweed Brain.” (✨slow dance✨ part two *more screaming*)

“Think positive. Tomorrow you’re off to camp! After orientation you’ve got your date—”

“It’s not a date!” I protested.”It’s just Annabeth, Mom. Jeez!”

“She’s coming all the way from camp to meet you.”

“Well, yeah.”

“You’re going to the movies.”

“Yeah."

“Just the two of you.”

“Mom!”

She held up her hands in surrender, but I could tell she was trying hard not to smile. (this whole scene deserved to be in here and you know it)

“Hey, it’s . . . it’s okay.” I patted her on the back. I was aware of everything in the room . I felt like I could read the tiniest print on any book on the shelves. Annabeth’s hair smelled like lemon soap. Behind me, somebody cleared his throat. It was one of Annabeth’s half-brothers, Malcolm. His face was bright red. I stepped away from Annabeth “We were just looking at maps,” I said stupidly. (imagine falling madly in love with Annabeth Chase and not knowing it until she kisses you, couldn't be me 😐)

Annabeth glared at me like she was going to punch me. And then she did something that surprised me even more. She kissed me. (*screaming intensifies*)

Annabeth and I pretty much skirted around each other. I was glad to be with her, but it also kind of hurt, and it hurt when I wasn’t with her, too. (I've just given up on screaming at Percy for not realizing his feelings sooner 😐🔫)

Annabeth wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m glad you’re not dead, Seaweed Brain.” “Thanks,” I said. “Me too.” (you know what I'm not glad about? Beckendorf's death 😃👍🏽)

We locked eyes. I thought of a different time last summer, under Mount St. Helen's, when Annabeth thought I was going to die and she kissed me. She cleared her throat and looked away. “Prophecy.” “Right. Prophecy.” (ahaha pain)

Malcolm grinned at me. “We’ll wait outside while you finish inspection.” The Athena campers filed out the door while Annabeth cleaned up her bunk. I shuffled uneasily and pretended to go through some more reports. Technically, even on inspection, it was against camp rules for two campers to be . . . like, alone in a cabin. That rule had come up a lot when Silena and Beckendorf started dating. Anyway, for some strange reason I was thinking about this as I watched Annabeth straighten up. (fOr sOmE rEaSoN)

“Hold on, Seaweed Brain.” It was Annabeth’s voice, much clearer now. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.” (*sobs*)

“I’ll go with Percy,” Annabeth said. “Then we’ll join you, or we’ll go wherever we’re needed.” Somebody in the back of the group said, “No detours you two.” (stop saving the world and go make out 🙄)

Before I could lose my courage, I said, “Don’t I get a kiss for luck? It’s kind of a tradition, right?” I figured she would punch me. Instead, she drew her knife and stared at the army marching toward us. “Come back alive, Seaweed Brain. Then we’ll see.” (AND COME BACK ALIVE, HE DID)

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” she muttered. “Your eyebrows get all scrunched together.”

“You are not going to die while I owe you a favor,” I said. “Why did you take that knife?”

“You would’ve done the same for me.” (HOLY F U C K)

I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. But this was Annabeth. If I couldn’t trust her, I couldn’t trust anyone. (goodnight.)

I glanced back. Annabeth was trying not to meet my eyes. Her face was pale. I flashed back to two years ago, when I’d thought she was going to take the pledge to Artemis and become a Hunter. I’d been on the edge of a panic attack, thinking that I’d lose her. Now, she looked pretty much the same way. I thought about the Three Fates, and the way I’d seen my life flash by. I could avoid all that. No aging, no death, no body in the grave. I could be a teenager forever, in top condition, powerful, and immortal, serving my father. I could have power and eternal life. Who could refuse that? Then I looked at Annabeth again. I thought about my friends from camp: Charles Beckendorf, Michael Yew, Silena Beauregard, so many other who were now dead. I thought about Ethan Nakamura and Luke. And I knew what I had to do. “No,” I said. “I’m honored and everything. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just . . . I’ve got a lot of life left to live. I’d hate to peak in my sophomore year.” The gods were glaring at me, but Annabeth had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were shining. And that kind of made up for it. (THIS WHOLE SCENE RUINED MY PERCEPTION OF MEN. THEY ARE, IN FACT, NOT AS PERFECT AS PERCY)

“I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.” When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body. (I'M MELTING)

We held hands right up to the moment they dumped us in the water. Afterward, I had the last laugh. I made an air bubble at the bottom of the lake. Our friends kept waiting for us to come up, but hey—when you’re the son of Poseidon, you don’t have to hurry. And it was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time. (DFGHJHGFDFGHJNHGFDFGHJNBVCFGHJMNBVCFKIJUHYGT I DON'T THINK I WILL EVER RECOVER FROM THIS ITS TOO PERFECT GOODBYE FOREVER)

[naerysthelonesome]

Before I Go

A Jeyna fic no one asked for.

Listened to folklore again and was cursed with feelings. I’m sorry.

Please, picture me in the trees I hit my peak at seven Feet in the swing over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Reyna, Jason had found in the two years he’d known her, did not tell people things about herself. And she sure as hell did not talk about her childhood. So he was surprised and more than a little gratified when she’d decided to tell him about her life in San Juan.

He couldn’t stop thinking of her now, as a happy little girl with untidy braids and a bright smile, strolling the cobbled streets with her big sister. Dancing around in the dappled shadows of the banana trees as the salty breeze blew past.

She’d told him of how she’d tried to catch a Coqui frog once, but had failed spectacularly. She gotten herself scratched up and muddied, and ripped all her clothes. Her older sister, she’d said, could be scary when she was mad, and Hylla had been infuriated at the state of her when she got back from the field. She spoke of that summer like it had been the best one of her life.

He couldn’t begin to make sense of how he felt about Reyna, but knew without a doubt that he liked the idea of spending a summer with her in San Juan. They could walk down the streets and she could point out her favorite cats, and trees, and rocks, and he’d make sure to remember every single one of them. They could spend long days with the old men playing dominoes, sucking on Piraguas without a care in the world.

But he knew these were just dreams, memories of a life long gone. Reyna barely spoke about her home town, let alone made plans to go back. Jason was not nearly dense enough to believe her life back then had been all sunshine and beautiful colours. They were demigods, and all demigods had monsters. Maybe someday, Reyna would tell him about hers.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids make a pattern Love you to the Moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

Jason was nothing more than a ghost now. Barely even a lare, who unlike himself, could be seen and talked to. That was alright. He wasn’t here to be perceived.

He’d tried to visit his friends multiple times over the months since he’d died- to see them one last time, for just a moment of closure- but this was the first time he’d had any success.

Of course the first person he came to see had to be Reyna. He’d missed her more than he knew he could miss a person. He supposed it was because he hadn’t so much as had a proper conversation with his best friend since Juno had so rudely snatched him away. And then it had taken so much time, time he only later realized he didn’t have to waste, for his memories to return fully. All he’d had of her for so long had been a space in his heart where she should have fit. Not a name, or a face, but a feeling. He wished he’d had more time to find his way back to her.

Reyna meant more to him than he had ever told her, and familiar regret came bubbling up like bile in his throat. Wasn’t the afterlife supposed to give him peace? But how could there be peace when there she sat, thick braid hanging loosely over her shoulder, sharpening her silver dagger? She looked so beautiful in the moonlight, her breath fogging up in the cold air seeming to breathe life into his dead soul. He’d never stopped loving her.

He was glad she’d found a home with the Hunters of Artemis. For the first time in a long time, she looked free. And while it meant they wouldn’t meet again anytime soon, he was glad to know she had the chance to live a long, long life. One full of the adventures and love and happiness she deserved. A small, perhaps selfish part of him hoped she wouldn’t forget him along the way.

And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why I think you should come live with me And we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry Or hide in the closet And just like a folk song Our love will be passed on

Wanting to strangle someone that didn’t exist was a strange feeling, but one that was evoked in Jason every time Reyna mentioned her father. Neither of them had had happy childhoods or good parents, it seemed. Well, that was something to bond over.

It hadn’t been easy for Reyna to talk about him, which he understood, especially now that he knew how that story ended. He didn’t blame her one bit for what she’d done, but couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t had to make such a decision at all. The burden it seemed she would always bear was heavy, and she shouldn’t have been made to carry it at all. Not speaking ill of the dead kept getting harder by the second.

Maybe if her story had gotten better after she and Hylla had run away, his nerves wouldn’t be feeling so shot. Circe’s island should have been an escape. With its sandy beaches, and palm trees, and miles of sparkling blue ocean Reyna liked to describe in such detail. But no. All the adults in their lives had to be exploitative bastards. Reyna hadn’t sounded too angry about it though. She’d laughed as she recounted her tales of turning pirates into guinea pigs, coerced into the act as she may have been. Jason couldn’t lie- he saw the allure.

Speaking of pirates- the one’s Reyna had escaped with unfortunately hadn’t been the swashbucklery kind either. They’d been the cut-throat, cruel kind and now Reyna couldn’t stand sea shanties anymore; which was alright with Jason since he couldn’t sing anyway. The only reason the sisters had to escape with them at all had been because two upstart demigods she refused to divulge the names of, decided to blow up the island. Jason couldn’t decide whether he wanted to smack them upside the head for it, or thank them profusely for unwittingly steering Reyna to Camp Jupiter.

He hoped that here, she’d finally found a home and a place to rest. It wasn’t perfect, not even close, but she was making it hers. Reyna was already well on her way to becoming a praetor, and he knew she’d make one of New Rome’s finest.

Please, picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

Jason often wondered how Reyna had thought of him after she’d found out about his history. There hadn’t been much he’d been able to remember about his own childhood. He’d been only two years old when he’d been given to Lupa, and all his memories of a family were little more than a blur. His home had been Camp Jupiter for most of his life, and he truly couldn’t remember another.

When he’d told her all he could remember of how it was to be raised by a wolf, she’d only looked amused. She’d simply looked him up and down and laughed. She had a cute laugh, all snorts and shaking shoulders. He didn’t always understand the things that made her laugh, but laughing with her felt so natural he did it every golden time.

He wondered if she’d had anyone to laugh with when he was taken away. Had she missed him? Every memory he’d had of her had been snatched away, but there were some people with whom you were so completely intertwined, even the Gods couldn’t untangle the strings. Perhaps he couldn’t place a name to what had been missing, but he had remembered her. Even in death, he would remember.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Pack your dolls and a sweater We'll move to India forever Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

What he wouldn’t give to go back and have one last Hot Chocolate with her in the Garden of Bacchus, to speak one more sentence in Spanish (Te amo, Reyna) and hear her snort at his accent, to brush her hair behind her ear once more. He hadn’t told her nearly enough times, how much he’d loved her laugh.

What he wouldn’t give to have one last chance to confess to her how he felt, with Aurum and Argentum there so she knew none of it was a lie.

But there was nothing he could give to turn back time, or build himself a different fate. They could only be together now in stories, and memories, and alternate universes. If there were any kind Gods left, perhaps in an afterlife that wouldn’t come for centuries.

Maybe he should feel sadness or loss, looking at her now for the last time. Mourn the loss of all the happiness they could have had together. He was going to leave again without a way to say goodbye or wish her well or have her look at him, but all he felt was contentment. She sat around a glowing fire, surrounded by her friends and sisters, singing soft campfire songs and telling stories of old. Maybe someday, she’d narrate their story too.

Jason finally found peace in the knowledge that his girl was going to be okay.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Island

Fingel Von Frings took a deep drag of his cigar and exhaled smoke against the glass that allowed him to see into the cryo chamber while the people inside couldn’t see out.

Cassell medical personnel wrapped in thick cloth hazmat suits with protective helmets and visors worked quickly to secure Tom Allman for transport. His thick claws were wrapped in cut proof mittens. HIs arms were twisted tight in a straight jacket. On top of that, thick straps reinforced with kevlar tied his arms together. Finally, a helmet faced with a titanium alloy cage  was fitted over his head.

There was no point in wasting any more serum on this young man. He had passed the point of no return. 

As the Vice Chancellor, he’d only had the responsibility to sign off on his expulsion from Cassell. He didn’t have to be here. But he always made it a point to see off every student who left academy without an official ceremony.

A wheeled metal coffin was rolled in. On the count of three, the medics lifted his body and placed him inside, closing the lid. A pneumatic pump, sealed it with the push of the button and the glass that showed his sleeping face inside was frosted over as liquid nitrogen filled the tubing in the metal casket dropping the temperature inside. At this point, all of his body processes would cease functioning.

Fingel took a deep breath and let it out.

Footsteps approached him. Mr. Baldwin, the head of the executive department came up to him and held out a stack of papers. He stared at it. He was starting to hate those 8 x 10 white sheets as much as he hated doing his classwork.

But after a seconds hesitation, he took it from Baldwin’s hands and started to flip through it. “Runes, in Norton Hall?”

“First I’ve heard of it. Of course, it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard. We scanned the entire place. No sign of any runes.”

“Have it tested for Longwei.” He pulled a pen from his pocket. It gleamed golden, a diamond at its head. He signed his name and handed the papers back to him.

“Yes, sir.”

“How is she?”

“Emotional.”

Fingel turned to him and stared coldly, his hands in his pockets. “What emotions.”

“Sadness, betrayal, distrust...”

“Has she talked to anyone?”

“She refuses all visitors. She believes Tom is dead. I’m fine with that. No one ever comes back from that island.”

“Does she want to leave?” Fingel began to walk out of the medical ward, still puffing on his cigar.

“She hasn’t said that. She hasn’t called her parents either.”

The chill wind from the rotors of a helicopter tossed Fingel’s golden hair about his face. The coffin was wheeled from the high security facility and into the open cargo bay of the helicopter.

“That’s strange. She talks to them every day...”

“Yes, her father has called the main office several times asking to speak with her. No word from her mother though.” Baldwin said this casually.

Of course, Fingel and Carli - otherwise known as Meixiu - talked frequently and Baldwin knew this. She had to be informed of new patients admitted to the island. “Do you want to know her opinion on the situation?”

“I do actually!” Though he was raising his voice to shout above the roar of the helicopter engine, Fingel could still hear the anger in his voice.

The machine lifted off and gained in altitude before swinging its nose to point towards the northwest and speed out of sight.

Once it was quiet enough to speak normally. “I want to know how long she plans to continue this cruel exercise. It would have been much easier to just expel him and put a bullet in his head. Which is what I suggested from the outset! And what I suggested after he went berserk and almost killed her the first time!” “Well, you went against your own orders the first time...” Fingel was quick to correct him.

“Which... I sincerely regret.”

Fingel turned to face him directly. “Why? What gave you hope the first time that has left you now?”

“There was a theory. I’d say it’s more of a myth than a theory. It stemmed from the report of Akira and Kogure Sakurai. Those two unstable Hybrids were part of the Devil Clan and had dangerous bloodlines. Both of them were held in the black jails run by Hydra until they escaped. Kogure, however, never harmed anyone, and Akira, after running on a spree of rape and murder, suddenly stopped.”

“The common denominator of the two was personal attachments. Kogure was attached to Chimei Gen. It was only after she felt that she had lost him that she finally gave in to her blood. And Akira had given in to his blood until he met a girl on the subway, which was actually an undercover agent for Hydra. He switched from killing every woman he met, to trying to protect her.”

“Ah... the power of love and friendship!” Fingel said without any mocking tone.

“Of course, this has been impossible to study. But when I saw how attached Ru’Yi was, I hoped she could act as a restraint for him. I knew this also posed a danger, so I put her under constant surveillance. But... this only served to put her in danger. The result was the same. She’s in the hospital, and he’s her mother’s guinea pig. The results were the same for Akira and Kogure as well.”

Fingel raised his hand and put it on Baldwin’s shoulder without looking at him. “Science has progressed and will progress. Even if he is a guinea pig, it may be one on the road to a solution.”

“We have a solution... Vice Chancellor.” He shrugged off his hand. “She just doesn’t want to accept it.”

Mr. Baldwin left Fingel to make the slow and long walk back to his office in the drifting snow.

The helicopter traversed the continental United States, briefly stopped for fuel in LA and lifted off again over the endless blue ocean of the Pacific. Eventually, the sun set and the pilot only had the instruments to go by. According to the official maps, there was no island on the coordinates. The helicopter was headed for a deadzone. The pilot turned the navigation to auto and stood up, walking back to the cargo bay.

The pilot removed the heavy flight helmet, revealing falling cascade of ebony hair which she shook out and ran her hands through.

Mai Sakatoku then reached into the onflight fridge for a can of beer which she opened and took a sip. “You make for quiet company.” 

She leaned over to see into the window of the coffin. The young man’s eyes were still closed, frozen in place by tears that couldn’t be shed. She lightly tapped the glass with a delicate fingernail. “You and Miss Chu’s daughter, hm?” 

She leaned against the coffin, her mind going back to the countless so called boyfriends of the past. “I suppose it’s fitting. Her father was also a berserker, before he fell head over heels for a certain dragon. And in the end, that was what saved his life.”

“She never got to tell you the story, because she doesn’t know it. In fact, I think it’s just me, my fellow Nanny and Mingfei Lu that know the end of that story.”

“Let’s hope yours ends a bit differently.”

There was no signal out here. So Mai had to content herself with whatever she had already downloaded on her phone, bingewatching her favorite movies and K-dramas. Meanwhile, she kept a close eye on the casket, making sure the temperature was kept cold enough to keep this guy from waking up.

A sudden alarm shook her from her reverie. She stood and went to the cockpit. Another plane, flying low, almost out of radar range but nearly directly below her. “Ah... we have a curious jet?”

She tried to get a picture of it, but it appeared invisible against the dark waves of the ocean. “Cloaking technology?”

Her eyes narrowed. This was no normal inquiry from a nation-state. Few nations could approach this level of high tech on a plane. Hybrids were higher functioning physically. The technology they surrounded themselves with was likewise ahead of human technology. 

That made this jet fair game. She did not change trajectory. Instead, she reached for a large gun on the back of the the plane. She hoisted to her shoulder with a soft grunt and strapped it to herself. She then hooked herself to the interior of the helicopter and opened the door.

The ferocious wind was enough to tear her away from the helicopter and she grit her teeth and let go. She was like an out of control kite, fluttering precariously in the wind. It was like being on the worst carnival ride. Still her powerful muscles braced themselves and forced the sight to her eyes. It wouldn’t do to have any reports getting out about the island.

She aimed directly for the cockpit of the jet. A tiny target to be sure. She took her time fluttering back and forth. Eventually her mind caught the rhythm of the wind, the speed of the aircraft, and linked it to the knowledge of the speed of the missile. She aimed at a spot far ahead and after a few more seconds, she pulled the trigger.

There was a bright flash of light. She blinked and the target had disappeared. She imagined the pilot getting vaporized instantly, the instrumentation getting blown apart. She turned her head to look, there wasn’t so much as a ripple that could remain in the open ocean.

[tomeandflickcorner]

Falcon And Winter Soldier Episode 5- My Thoughts

Oh boy,  this one might be a bit longer than usual.  There’s a lot to go through in this episode. As always, spoilers under the cut.

It immediately picks up after Walker brutally murdered Nico in that crowded square. We see he’s taken off running, and ends up in some deserted warehouse of some kind.  For a moment, you almost think he’s starting to grasp the gravity of what he’s done, but he’s then plagued by memories of his time with Hoskins, which only leads to him further slipping into insanity and convincing himself that he did what was necessary. That’s when Bucky and Sam enter the scene.  They quickly figure out that Walker’s off his rocker.  Particularly when Walker tries to justify his actions by claiming that Nico was the one who killed Hoskins, even though it was clear that Karli was the one who killed him. They do their best to try and help him realize that revenge is not the same as justice, but Walker isn’t willing to listen.  Sam, slipping into councilor mode, attempts to calm him down. Unfortunately, if his words were having any affect on Walker, it all went downhill fast when Sam told Walker to hand the Shield over to them. Because Walker firmly believed the Shield was his rightful property, so he was not about to willingly give it up.  So Bucky and Sam have no choice but to take the Shield back by force.  At one point during this fight, Bucky gets momentarily dazed upon getting thrown into some sort of circuit breaker box, which also seems to briefly cause his vibranium arm to short-circuit.  Of course, Sam can’t really hold his own against a crazed Super Soldier one-on-one for long, and Walker eventually has him pinned to the ground.  He even destroys Sam’s Falcon wings.  But just before Walker could actually kill Sam- yeah, he was actually about to kill Sam there!- Bucky recovers and rejoins the fight.  Together, Sam and Bucky manage to pry the Shield away from Walker’s tight grip.  Though they have to break his arm in the process. But even then, Walker isn’t backing down.  Because he still firmly believes HE is Captain America.  It takes a pretty awesome combo move from Bucky and Sam to take Walker down. Because not even a Super Soldier can withstand getting swung into a jet-packed fueled blow from the Shield.  With Walker defeated, Bucky pretty much places the Shield at Sam’s feet, effectivly giving it to him once again, before walking off without a word.

So, after that pretty epic battle, the episode allows the characters, and the viewing audience, a chance to catch their breaths. Karli and the Flag Smashers have pretty much gone underground, making it impossible for anyone to locate them. Not that the government doesn’t try, as they conduct raids to all the GRC facilities that housed them, and even arrest the people that offered them shelter.  But still, no sign of Karli anywhere.  So Bucky and Sam decide there’s not much more they can do, particularly since they’ve been benched by the government officials.  Even so, Sam still wants to do what he can in seeing this whole thing to the end. So he asks his friend and associate, Joaquín Torres (who we haven’t seen since Episode 2), to keep him posted. Although, Sam also leaves his broken wingsuit with Joaquín. Which is probably a reference to the fact that Joaquín took up the mantle of Falcon after Sam in the comics.

Of course, there’s still the loose end of Zemo.  Bucky manages to track him down in Sokovia, at the memorial that was put up in honor of everyone who died there during the events of Age of Ultron.  Which does make sense, since Zemo’s wife and children were among the casualties.

Now, I gotta pause for a moment to talk about something here.  During the Previously On segment for this episode, we got reminded of a scene from a previous episode, in which Zemo seemed to be trying to shame Sam and Bucky for not ever visiting the memorial themselves.  Maybe it’s me, but that seems kinda unfair.  For starters, Bucky and Sam weren’t even involved during the events of Age Of Ultron.  With Sam, I don’t think he was officially an Avenger at that point.  He was part of the reserve team, if anything.  And Bucky was in Romania, trying to reacquaint himself with his true identity while hiding from both the CIA and what was left of Hydra. Even if that wasn’t the case, when exactly were they supposed to visit the memorial?  As of the events of Civil War, Sam was on the run as a fugitive alongside Steve and Natasha.  And Bucky was in Wakanda, either in cryofreeze or going through mental rehabilitation.  And then they both got dusted at the end of Infinity War, meaning they were erased from existence for the next five years.  So when exactly could they have visited the Sokovia Memorial to pay their respects? Of course, I do get what the episode was trying to say, since the Avengers didn’t really do much in offering Sokovia any sort of relief efforts.  (Though you could also argue that Tony should have been the one to handle that, considering the whole situation with Ultron was his own fault.  And goodness knows he had the monetary means to do something, with him being the billionaire and all. But I guess that’s all semantics.)

Anyway, Zemo tells Bucky that the only way they can hope to stop Karli now is by killing her, but Bucky tells him they’re going to try to do things their own way.  At this point, Bucky aims a gun at Zemo’s head.  But it’s soon revealed that Bucky had previously made sure the gun was already empty when he shows that he’d removed the bullets beforehand. Which I guess was his way of showing Zemo that he was wrong about him.  And that Bucky, despite being an enhanced individual (something that Zemo clearly hates), still chose to spare his life.  At this point, the Dora Milaje show up, with the intention of bringing Zemo to the Raft, that prison we last saw in Civil War.  Before Zemo is escorted off, he tells Bucky he took the liberty of crossing his name out of Bucky’s book, and that he doesn’t blame Bucky for doing what he thought was right.  Wow, how magnanimous of him, right?  Shame he couldn’t have extended this same level of courtesy towards the rest of the Avengers.

Still, I guess this means we’ve seen the last of Zemo.  At least for now.  Eh, good riddance, I say.  I personally hope we never see him again,  While I do sympathize that he lost his family, I still don’t like him in the slightest.  On the other hand, I did like that Ayo indicated that Bucky is at least partially forgiven for helping break Zemo out of jail.  Sure, she does tell him that he should still stay away from Wakanda for the time being, but she is calling him White Wolf again. Which indicates that their friendship wasn’t broken beyond repair.  Before they part ways, however, Bucky tells Ayo that he has one more favor to ask of her.

Here, the episode begins to focus on Sam as he begins to head back home to Louisiana.  But first, he makes a detour back to Baltimore, in order to sit down and really talk with Isaiah. Which enables us to really learn exactly what happened with him in the 1950s.  Turns out, he didn’t get injected with the Super Serum knowingly  He and a few other Black men were essentially used as guinea pigs, in which they were told they were being given tuberculosis shots or something when it was actually an experimental recreation of the Super Serum.  But it seems that, for some reason, the other Black test subjects begin displaying some manner of unfortunate side effects to the Serum, which suggested it wasn’t stabilizing with them.  Only Isaiah was able to successfully transition into a true Super Soldier like Steve Rogers.  So when the other Black test subjects were captured behind enemy lines (because this was the time of the Korean War), the US government were simply planning to drop bombs on the POW camps, in order to prevent word of their little experiment from getting out.  When Isaiah found out what they were planning, he took it upon himself to get those men out of there, in a similar manner to what Steve did in the first Captain America movie.  Except he was rewarded for his bravery by being locked up like a criminal, with the US government conducting experiments on him to try and figure out why the Super Serum worked with him and not the other test subjects.  They even told Isaiah’s wife that he was dead while making sure he never received any of the letters she’s sent him.  In the end, Isaiah only escaped because this nameless nurse took pity on him and helped him escape by essentially faking his death.  This backstory really is sad and tragic, especially when you realize it’s partially based on an actual historical event.  Just try looking up the Tuskegee Experiment sometime.  It’s really messed up.  Anyway, Isaiah finishes his sad story by telling Sam that, regardless of what he might believe, the world hasn’t changed that much.  And that not only will the world never accept a Black man as Captain America, no self-respecting Black man would even attempt to take up the mantle because of how America has always treated men like them.

With that advice still weighing on his mind, Sam returns home to rejoin his sister, Sarah, and his two nephews, AJ and Cass.  So now we’re getting back to the subplot from the first episode, involving the failing family-run fishing business.  It seems Sarah is still thinking it’s time to throw in the towel and simply sell their family’s fishing boat.  The main issue with that is, because it’s all run down and in need of serious repair, nobody would even consider buying it.  Fortunately, Sam has an idea.  Remembering how their parents, who apparently died some time ago, had been long-standing pillars in the community and had often offered aid to their neighbors, Sam makes a few phone calls and gets the whole community to come pitch in and help repair the old fishing boat, thereby repaying the previous kindness of Sam and Sarah’s late parents.  One of the neighbors even comes by with a brand new engine for the fishing boat. But then, just as Sam is wondering how they’re going to manage getting the heavy-looking boat engine off the back of the truck, Bucky appears out of nowhere, using his Super Soldier strength to effortlessly lift the motor up over his shoulders.

Bucky explains his presence away, stating he’s only there to drop off a crate for Sam, which clearly came from the Wakandans.  It’s implied the contents of the crate have something to do with the favor he asked of Ayo.  But then, Bucky ends up sticking around to help Sam fix up the fishing boat.  Cue a boat repairing montage, complete with a song playing over the whole sequence.  Bit bizarre we’re getting something like this in the penultimate episode, but it’s still pretty enjoyable.  Particularly since we get to see Bucky and Sam actually bonding as themselves.  And yes, there does seem to be vague implications that there might eventually be something between Bucky and Sarah.  Although, I don’t know if I necessarily ship it.  At least not yet.  I’d need to see more of them interacting with each other besides just seeing Bucky saying ‘hi’ to her a few times before I make up my mind.  Granted it would be an interesting thing to explore of course.  Particularly since, to my knowledge, it would be the first biracial couple featured in the MCU.  Unless you count Peter Quill and Gamora, of course.  (And that brief thing that was going on between Peggy and Jason Wilkes in the woefully short-lived Agent Carter series.)  At present, though, I think Bucky’s obvious affection towards Sam’s family seems more tied to his own memories of his life before WW2.  When he wakes up the next morning on the couch (because Sam invited him to crash at the house instead of finding a hotel room somewhere), a genuine smile appears on his face when he catches AJ and Cass playing around with the Shield in the living room.  Those of you who have read Bucky’s bio in the MCU wiki might remember that Bucky was the oldest child of four, so seeing AJ and Cass might be reminding him of how he used to play with his younger sisters.  And interestingly enough, Sam’s sister’s name is Sarah.  Which was also the name of Steve Roger’s mother, which is probably making Bucky feel even more nostalgia.  (Side note- Bucky was actually sleeping on the couch.  Which is a step up from where we first saw him in the first episode, where he was sleeping on the cold, hard floor.  This is probably an indication that Bucky is starting to heal.)

Anyway, we then see Bucky helping train Sam in throwing the Shield around.  They even set up an obstacle course of sorts, with mats being tied to a few of the surrounding trees.  They briefly discuss the lingering issue of the Flag Smashers.  There’s still no sign of Karli, but Sam promises to give Bucky a call when he gets a new lead, and Bucky promises that he’ll come back to assist Sam at that time.  However, the main focus of the scene involves Bucky finally apologizing to Sam for giving him a hard time over the Shield in the first place, with him acknowledging how he and Steve didn’t really grasp what it might feel like to a Black man to be given the Shield.  We also get an indication that Steve and Bucky did discuss Steve’s plans of retiring by staying in the past to live a life with Peggy after returning the Infinity Stones ahead of time. It was vaguely suggested in a read-between-the-lines sort of way at the end of Endgame, but it’s nice they confirmed that Steve didn’t just up and decide to do that on the fly.  Bucky then starts opening up to Sam, admitting to him that the reason why he was so angry about the Shield in the first place was that, to him, the Shield felt like his last connection he had to Steve, who was the closest thing he had to a family.  And that feeling has intensified now that Steve is gone.  (Can we please get some clarification on what they mean by ‘gone,’ by the way?  Did Steve actually pass away from old age offscreen?  Up until now, it’s something they’ve only vaguely inferred to.  Like maybe, maybe, maybe.  But if that’s what happened, I wish they’d quit tiptoeing around the issue and just tell us straight out.)  Anyway, it’s really cool that Bucky is talking to Sam about all of this.  It does show that he truly does trust Sam.  Especially more than he does that crappy therapist they forced on him. Just saying, Bucky was still denying to her that he was having nightmares, despite apparently having sessions with her for six months.  But he freely admits to Sam that he is still having nightmares after only a week or so of them working together.  If that doesn’t illustrate how poorly Bucky’s relationship with his government issued therapist was going, I don’t know what does.  

As if getting how big a deal this is, for Bucky to open up to him like this, Sam once again slips into counselor mode.  He tells Bucky that he shouldn’t put so much concern onto what Steve thought of him, because Bucky can’t let what others think of him determine his own self-value. Or something to that effect.  He also advises Bucky to stop taking the easy way out in regards of alleviating his guilt over what he did as the Winter Soldier. Up until now, Bucky was only going after past Hydra agents to bring them to justice in an effort to make himself feel better.  But if Bucky really wants to gain peace of mind, he should instead focus on helping the victims feel better.  Which probably means that Bucky is going to go back and see that old man, Yori, from Episode 1 again and help him find closure by telling him the truth about what happened to his dead son. I admit, I’m really nervous about watching that scene unfold.  Yeah, Yori does deserve the truth, but I’m scared about how he might take it.  It would be understandable if he ends up blaming Bucky, sure.  But at the same time, it’s kinda been rubbing me the wrong way how this show seems to be acting like Bucky is a reformed assassin who has to atone for what he’s done.  No, that was what Natasha was.  Bucky, on the other hand, was the world’s longest serving POW. Someone who was tortured and brainwashed by evil Nazi scientists who stripped him of his free will and autonomy.  (And, if we consider the implications that Episode 3 gave us, we can also add sexual abuse to the list of things Hydra did to him.)  Yeah, it’s only natural Bucky feels bad for what Hydra made him do.  But that just indicates he’s naturally a good man with a good heart.  I’m not exactly a fan of the idea that he should be made to feel like he should atone for anything he did.  Because he was as much of a victim in all of that as the people Hydra sent him after.  Still, if trying to make up for what Hydra forced him to do is what Bucky needs to do in order to forgive himself, then I guess I can support that.  Do what you have to do to find closure for yourself, buddy.

Anyway, after Bucky leaves, Sam and Sarah continue to finish repairs on the fishing boat in preparation for selling it.  But just before Sam is going to paint over the names of their parents, which is printed on the side of the boat, Sarah stops him. It seems she’s changed her mind about selling the boat, considering the boat is part of their family legacy. Which is something that Sam is relieved to hear, as he didn’t want to see the boat getting sold off, either.  The siblings begin having a heart-to-heart, with Sarah telling Sam that, even though she’s always given him a hard time about the matter, she’d never thought he was running away from things whenever he went off to save the world and whatnot.  She also tells him that she knows he’s been dwelling on what Isaiah said to him, but helps Sam make a decision involving the Shield.  While Isaiah had good reasons for believing the way he did, Sam ultimately decides that the pain Isaiah went through would be in vain if nobody continued to fight for the future.  And so, Sam decides that he’s now willing to accept the mantle of Captain America.  Which leads to another montage.  This time of Sam going through a self-training session with the Shied, with his nephews, AJ and Cass, helping out.  The training montage ends with us seeing that Sam has become a pro at throwing and catching the Shield.

Of course, just when you start to think this episode is feeling like the series finale, with everything wrapping up and setting the stage for a future adventure, we get the reminder that there is still one more episode to go.  It seems that Karli has been pushed over the edge after the death of Nico, as well as seeing all the GRC facilities raided and cleared out of refugees.  And she is now out for revenge.  Specifically, she plans to rally up what remains of her followers and attack the GRC headquarters, as they plan to vote on the Patch Act, which would force millions of people to relocate to their home states. To achieve this goal, Karli manage to join forces with Batroc, who had previously appeared at the beginning of Episode 1.  Strangely enough, an earlier scene does suggest Batroc was actually hired to team up with Karli and the Flag Smashers by Sharon Carter, which only further indicates that Sharon is a bit shady.  What exactly is Sharon up to?  Is she a bad guy now?  That would kinda stink, since she is Peggy Carter’s great niece or something.  Talk about besmirching your family name.  

Anyway, right when the Flag Smasher’s attack on GRC headquarters is about to begin, Sam gets a tip off from Joaquín, who had been keeping his ear to the grapevine in terms of the Flag Smasher’s movements. Apparently, the Flag Smashers coordinate their attacks via this coded cellphone signal, which  Joaquín had figured out how to hack into.  And he notifies Sam that the coded cellphone signal is now showing up in New York City.  Sam seems to figure out what the Flag Smashers are about to do when he sees a news report on the TV about the GRC voting on the Patch Act that evening.  Deciding to go and do something about it, he opens up that Wakandan crate Bucky had dropped off.  The episode ends before we can see what exactly was inside the crate, though.  They’re clearly saving that reveal for the final episode.  Although, my boyfriend, who is also my viewing partner for this show, is a bit of an expert on what went on in the Marvel comics.  (He even worked in a comic book/gaming store before we met.)  It seems that, in the comics, Sam Wilson did end up getting a pair of Falcon wings that utilized hologram technology of some kind.  So he’s theorizing that’s what it is.  Still, we have to wait until next Friday to know for sure.  Either way, it looks like this next episode will decide what happens with Karli and the Flag Smashers.  I honestly don’t see how it’s possible to resolve things with Karli peacefully, though.  She seems too far gone at this point.  But I’m sure Sam will still try to talk her down, which only deepens my respect for him.  And who knows?  Maybe Sam will succeed, with Karli going the Coalhouse Walker route- agreeing to stand down in exchange for the promise of a fair trial, which would allow her to state her case.  (Of course, I hope they don’t do things exactly how it went down in Ragtime.  Because in that story, they pretty much promise Coalhouse that he’ll receive a fair trial, but the moment he surrenders himself, the police immediately open fire and shoot him dead.  Which is not even remotely cool.)

Oh, and then there’s still the matter of Walker.  Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.  Because even though Sam and Bucky effectivly took him down AND he received a dishonorable discharge by the US government, he still refuses to believe he did anything wrong.  He’s convinced that he still deserves to be Captain America.  While a small part of me does pity him, he really is displaying what appears to be a fragile White male ego.  He even goes up to Hoskin’s grieving parents and sister and lies to them about how Nico was the one who killed their son, and that they should take comfort in the fact that justice was served.  There’s also a mid-credits scene where we see he’s trying to make his own version of the Shield.  Doubt its made of vibranium, of course.  I Gotta say, I’m seeing a lot of parallels between Walker and Karli right now.  Both of them have convinced themselves that they are 100% in the right, and everything they do is completely justified.  Which naturally makes them both very dangerous. However, I’m mostly concerned by this mysterious woman.  Contessa, or whatever it was she called herself.  She approached Walker after his trial to tell him that he didn’t do anything wrong before giving him what appears to be a blank business card.  (I’m guessing there’s some sort of secret decoded message on this business card that Walker will decipher later on.)  I have no idea who this woman is supposed to be or what her goal is.  I’m guessing she’s someone comic book experts would recognize, but my boyfriend/viewing partner, who is familiar with the comics, didn’t seem to recognize her name, either.  So it’s a big mystery at this point.

Before I wrap up my thoughts for this week’s episode, there is something partially unrelated I should mention.  For those of you who haven’t heard, Sebastian Stan’s latest movie, Monday, recently came out.  And it seems that this movie includes Sebastian and his female co-star in a full-frontal nudity scene.  From what I’ve heard, there have been some select individuals who have seen fit to criticize Sebastian’s appearance in this scene, because he wasn’t in perfect shape or something like that.  If you were one of those select individuals who decided to body shame Sebastian after watching this movie?  Grow up!  Bodies come in all shapes and sizes.  And to expect a male actor to have a completely chiseled physique at all times is extremely unrealistic, particularly when they’re portraying an ordinary person.  The fact that people were acting like this is even more disgusting when you consider the fact that Sebastian Stan apparently already has some body issues.  The fact that he was still willing to film this full-frontal scene despite those issues just illustrates his passion and dedication to his skill as an actor and the message this movie was meant to convey.  He did not deserve to have his body objectified the way it was. Nobody does.  So once again, this is me condemning the behavior of those select ‘fans.’ 

[spookyboywhump]

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Tag List:  @constellationwhump, @what-a-whumpy-world, @faewhump, @inky-whump, @slaintetowhump, @sodapigeon, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood, @insanitywishes   Let me know if I missed you or if you want to be added!

 Okay so. I’m sorry for the lack of whump these couple of parts, but since I have a story going here story stuff is necessary. Not tagging this one as whump either, instead we get a look at what’s up with Wren’s coworkers, and why Zander is in this hell. So, three new characters and some backstory, which I didn’t go too into detail with specifically because I want to write some detailed whumpy stuff for Zander’s early years here. I promise things will pick up next part UwU

***

 Cara stared tiredly at the screen in front of her, eyes focused on the blinking red dot that they had been watching for days now. Someone always had to be watching, in case anything changed, and thus far his location had only changed a few times, always coming back to the same place though.

 The tracker on his phone had died at the first location, they already had people sent to look into that place. From there they figured out he was being kept at the Whitaker estate, none of them even knew people still lived there until now. It would be impossible to get into that place- they’d already checked the security on it- so they focused on the third location. Today marked the third time he’d gone there and back and it was driving her crazy that they didn’t know what was happening. She had tried going there but couldn’t find anything worthwhile, that part of the city was near abandoned so there wasn’t a whole lot to see.

 She wasn’t just watching his location though, the microchip in his arm was giving more information than that. It was a bit of experimental tech, something new from their technology department. Elias had been the perfect guinea pig for it since he was going on this assignment, and he didn’t seem to mind the risks too much. It gave his location like any decent tracker would, but it also monitored his heart rate and other important vitals. They’d been making notes every time his heart rate seemed to jump. They’d made a lot of notes. 

 She’d been worried about him since he volunteered for this mission, they all thought it was a bad idea. Elias wasn’t weak or helpless, but he was more sensitive than other volunteers, he’d be more at risk than the other volunteers. He was adamant about doing it though, insisted he had to “know for himself” what happened. He didn’t go into detail, but she had a feeling it was somehow personal to him. She’d never admit it to him but she had desperately hoped and prayed he wouldn’t be chosen, but ultimately their boss decided it was best. Unlike other volunteers, Elias didn’t have a family at home to worry about, they wouldn’t have to explain anything away if he went missing, and Cara and the others were just supposed to be okay with it.

 Needless to say, they weren’t. In between monitoring him, doing their own jobs, and pleading with their boss to give permission to do something, they’d been worrying themselves sick just thinking about what he was going through. They’d all heard horror stories, it had been a rumor forever now, and it was hard not to get lost thinking about all the horrible possibilities. 

 “Want me to take over?” She jumped when she heard his voice, looking up to see Alec standing beside the desk. “You’ve been here all day, isn’t Lila worried?” He asked. He looked just as tired as she felt but she was ready to take up his offer.

 “She’s probably too busy sleeping to be worried.” She sighed, getting up from her chair and stretching her arms above her head. She couldn’t help but be jealous, thinking of her girlfriend at home getting some well needed sleep. She’d taken over for her early that morning, insisting she get some rest. She’d monitor while Alec looked into the other victims they were finding, and eventually Lila would come back to fill one of their places so the other could rest. They needed more people on this assignment, but everyone else was completely booked with their own assignments, so they’d just have to work on little sleep a lot of coffee. 

 “Anything new?” He asked as he sat down, taking a look at her notes.

 “He went back to the third location earlier this morning, was there for almost an hour. His pulse and blood pressure jumped again, calmed down for a little bit, and went back up again.” She groaned, pushing her hair back with her hands. “It’s killing me! Something horrible is definitely happening and what are we doing here?! Nothing!”

 “We’re doing what we’re told.” He sighed. “Of course, what we’re told is be useless and sit here until shit gets serious, but it’s going to be hard to tell how serious until he’s, you know, bleeding out or something.” 

 “You’re not good at all at being comforting, you know that?” 

 “You’ve told me everyday since he left.” He said, turning to face her. “We don’t need to worry too much, I mean, he’s alive, we’ll know if something happens.”

 “I don’t want to wait until something happens though. I want to at least see him, just get an idea of how he’s doing. Especially if he isn’t doing well, that should give us enough reason to be able to get him out of there!” She was pacing in front of the desk now, Alec watching her tiredly. He glanced towards their boss’ empty office before looking back at her. 

 “Well… we were given very, very specific instructions not to interfere-”

 “I know that!”

 “But,” He continued as if she hadn’t said anything, “Just going to a location isn’t interfering. We’ve already done that. Staying at a location for a prolonged amount of time isn’t interfering, and just getting lucky enough to catch sight of him isn’t interfering. In fact, it would be the best course of action, especially if you just happen to get some sort of proof that his situation is getting worse.” She had stopped pacing while he spoke, taking a moment to consider what he said before a big grin crossed her face.

 They couldn’t get into Whitaker’s place, they knew that much, but there was one other place he kept returning to, one odd and seemingly abandoned place. Three times was too much to be a coincidence, and if they left the moment they knew he was heading there, they absolutely could be there long before he was. They weren’t allowed to interfere, but that didn’t mean they had to stay completely out of the way. 

 ***

 “I… can… can I ask what happened…?” Wren asked hesitantly, watching Zander with wide eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I mean, you can’t just leave it there…”

 “I can and I should.” He sighed heavily. “You don’t want to hear the sob story of Daniel Alexander King.”

 “Daniel? That’s your name…?” He tilted his head slightly, he was so used to calling him Zander that he could hardly picture him as anything else. 

 “It was. Cain changed it, and if you try and call me Daniel around him he’ll probably beat us both. We’re sticking to Zander and Wren, agreed?” He gave him a look, and Wren nodded quickly. It was best they didn’t let his real name slip around Cain anyway. 

 “I do want to hear the story though, actually, I need to hear the story. We know a lot about people volunteering for this, but someone in your situation is entirely different, and there’s no way you’re the only one!” Zander looked hesitant, making a face as he glanced away from him, but finally, he relented. 

 “I’ll give you the short version for now, I don’t know when Cain will get back and once he does I think I’ll be… busy.” He frowned.

 “I… sorry about that… if I’d known he’d be upset I wouldn’t have wanted you to tell me…” He couldn’t help but feel guilty, wondering what terrible punishment Cain would have for him now.

 “Don’t worry about it, he’s always looking for a reason to harass me. It’s not your fault.” He said. Wren watched as he came over and knelt down beside the bed, bending over and pulling something out from underneath.

 “What’s that?” He asked, leaning over to see the small box. 

 “Some of the stuff I’m allowed to keep. Not much but, it’s best to keep it hidden.” He shrugged, taking the top off. There were a few things placed in there, some papers, a couple of photographs, what looked like an earring, and… a couple of teeth? He tried to hide the disgust on his face, looking up at Zander.

 “Why are you keeping teeth in a box under your bed?”

 “Look kid, I don’t get a lot of personal things around here, if my teeth get knocked out of my mouth I’m going to keep them.” He said, looking through some of the papers, old newspaper clippings it looked like, even though by now most people got their news in one of many digital formats. 

 “Okay…” He decided to ignore that, looking at one of the photographs he’d left in the box. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. He could tell it was taken at a high school graduation, but it took him a second to realize the grinning boy in the photo was Zander, standing between what must’ve been his parents. It was almost odd to see him without a scratch or bruise in sight, no leather collar, no signature scowl, his hair was shorter and neater and he looked so happy. 

 “I asked for some pictures once, as a reward, whatever Cain was willing to get me.” He said when he noticed Wren staring at it. “I figured they’d be easy to find, I… I had started to forget their faces.” He frowned. “It had been a while…” 

 “Oh… I’m sorry…” Zander just shrugged, handing him some of the papers and changing the subject.

 “Here’s what everyone else knows of the situation. Cain kept me updated on it for a while, at least, until I was presumed dead. Of course, none of that is important since it’s all lies but it’s part of the story.” He shrugged. Wren quickly scanned the papers, stories about a missing boy who disappeared after his father “killed himself”. How convenient, he thought, scowling at what he saw.

 “So what actually happened? How did you end up here?” He asked. 

 “Cain’s father wanted me out of the way. I don’t know if they thought I knew something or if they didn’t want me asking questions, but he decided the best way to get rid of me was to give me to Cain. If the situation wasn’t so fucked up I’d say it’s funny, the bastard didn’t even know what to do with me at first.” He laughed, but Wren just stared at him. “They tried to “train” me first, but Whitaker got impatient and just gave me to Cain as is.”

 “What did your dad know that warranted all this?” He knew that Charles Whitaker had been a very well known man, and it shouldn’t have surprised him to know he was kind of shady, but he couldn’t imagine all the horrible things that would get someone killed because they uncovered it, and were potentially going to expose it.  

 “It sounds like he knew everything. Cain’s dad owned half the city, and nobody gets that kind of power while doing completely normal ethical things. I know he had a hand in all this business with the dogs, but it sounds like there were other things too. I don’t know for sure because, to prevent this exact scenario, I was never told anything.” He sighed. “I kind of wish I knew more, since it seems I was going to end up like this anyway.”  

 Wren stared at the papers in his hands, news stories about his “disappearance” about his suspected suicide following his father’s, it was all so fake and suspicious that he couldn’t picture anyone actually believing it. 

 “Your dad was killed, you’re here, what about your mom?” He asked. He saw her mentioned a few times in these articles, he couldn’t help but wonder what happened to her in connection to all this.

 “Oh, she got lucky. They weren’t together, hadn’t been for a while, long before he started his investigation. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were keeping an eye on her, but I guess they didn’t see reason to kill her. Instead she gets to just, live her life, thinking I ran away or killed myself, and I… honestly I feel like shit thinking about that, so I’d rather not.” He said, glancing away from Wren. “Cain used to show me the news on tv sometimes, it was hard to watch but… I guess that’s why he was willing to show me. Rub salt in the wounds, you know?”

 He looked back at Zander, studying his face. For once he didn’t look angry, just, tired, defeated even. This man had been here six years, and no matter how strong and defiant he was, he could see that it had thoroughly ruined him. He couldn’t imagine him smiling like the boy in that picture, he was scarred, physically and no doubt mentally. He wondered how he survived six years at all, how he hadn’t gone crazy living like this, how Cain’s abuse hadn’t killed him.

 He had to get him out of there.

[221bshrlocked]

He Who Desires (3)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2533

Warnings: mention of violence. some graphic description of blood? slight flirting. an annoyed Bucky

A/N: The next part will definitely be the last part. I hope yall enjoyed this little extra mini series as much as I did writing it. I’m trying to get back to the other mini series I have so I’m, again, just getting out all the shitty writing so I could reserve the good writing for the other fics/ideas.

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Slowly, your eyes managed to flutter open enough to look at your surroundings, your mind already attempting to process the last thing you remembered before you blacked out.

Club. Bucky. Ryan. 

Fucking Ryan.

“Oh good you’re awake.” You heard someone speak from behind you, heavy steps making their way around until the man himself stood in front of you. Before you could ask anything, a heavy palm sounded across your cheek and you felt pain shoot through your neck from how hard your head fell.

“Tsk tsk tsk, not a word out of you. Wait till the boss herself hears who we have. It’ll be Christmas soon babe, you just gotta wait here.” Ryan massaged the palm of his hand before walking out of the room, leaving you cold and confused with two guards stationed at the door.

Meanwhile, Bucky was already on his way to the warehouse, refusing to wait until Steve and Natasha came to him. Sending them the GPS signal, he raced through the dark freeway up the mountain. If only he hadn’t looked away for that one second. He looked down for the hundredth time and tried to think of anything but them torturing you, most likely because of a stupid mistake he committed. 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute, trying to figure out where you and Bucky went wrong. Surely you didn’t make a mistake and there was no way in hell Bucky did either. Suddenly, the metal doors opened and in walked Ryan along with another woman behind him. 

“I didn’t believe it when they told me. You were always the best of us, never one to make a mistake, never one to miss a detail, not one to be easily distracted. Then again, I guess you can get distracted after all, considering you’re in this mess because of him. If only he kept his hands to himself, this little baby wouldn’t have been visible.” You shivered when the cool edge of the knife touched your shoulder and your blood began to boil. 

“Should’ve known you were behind this.” 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, you should’ve. I thought you’d figured it out by now but this little piggy got dumber with time.” You screamed and threw your head back when you felt the knife dig into your shoulder where your brand used to be. You felt her hands pull on your hair until your neck was bent at an ungodly angle. 

“This could’ve been yours as well. But you just had to go and grow a conscience.” 

“At least one of us grew a brain and saw how fucked up they treated us. Come on Delilah, you couldn’t possibly think it was always going to be sunshine and daisies with them did you?” You growled when she dug the knife deeper into your skin, already feeling numbness take over your entire left side.

“Baby, I could have given you sunshine and daisies. But you chose them over me.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I chose myself over you.” You spat at her face and didn’t give her the benefit of knowing how much pain you were in. You were about to say something when you heard the distant sound of gunshots ring through the warehouse, smiling because you already knew who it was. 

But the relief was taken away instantly when you felt your shoulder dislocated by two hands, screaming and crying when the pain just kept getting worse. Delilah took hold of your chair and dragged you to the wall, telling her men to stand in front of her before holding a knife to your throat. Tears stained your shirt and you slowly started to lose consciousness, snapping towards the metal doors when you heard a loud thud coming after another.

Within seconds, the doors were slammed across the wall, and you smiled when you saw Bucky furiously step through the pile of dead bodies. 

“You better watch your next moves Sergeant or this little piggy is dead meat.” 

“You’re going to wish you thought this through  sweetheart.” Before Bucky finished that sentence, seven shots broke through the surrounding windows, leaving Bucky, Delilah and yourself the only ones alive.

You could feel her hands shaking and you wished you were awake enough to see what transpired next. As soon as she opened her mouth, Bucky didn’t think twice, throwing his knife your way and watching as it hit Delilah’s throat. He was in front of you within seconds, already trying to get your attention so you didn’t faint.

“Y/N, doll, you with me?” Bucky wiped the hair away from you face to take a better look at you, his heart shattering when he saw how faint you looked

“Y-yeah Buck.”

“This is gonna hurt love but I gotta do it to control the bleeding. On three okay?”

“Ahuhaa.” You whispered and watched as he frantically held your shoulder.

“One-” You bite your shirt when he pushed your shoulder back in its place, crying in pain when he wrapped his belt around your entire upper body to stop the bleeding.

“You said on three you asshole,” you said through sobs and Bucky was torn between laughing at your attempt at humor and watching as you cried while he did nothing to help you. Shifting his weight, he picked you up and apologized again when you asked him to slow down. He kept on talking to you and shook you a bit when you took a longer time to respond. But it was so much harder to stay awake and at some point, before you knew it, your head was falling back, and the last thing you heard were Bucky’s desperate attempts to keep you conscious as he ran to the quinjet.

                                                          ~~~~~

Shifting around, you brought your hand to your head and groaned when you felt pain shoot through your back to your upper arm, slowly opening your eyes and looking down to see what was happening.

“Hey, hey doll,” you looked up and saw Bucky standing from his chair, leaning down and cupping your cheek. You smiled up at him and leaned into his metal hand, finding comfort in the cool sensation against your skin. 

“Hi Buck, w-what happened?” Your voice was hoarse and you noticed the way Bucky frowned at your weak state.

“You passed out on me Y/N, nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack when you did. They uhhh, they took you into surgery. Nothing too dangerous, they just needed to make sure the bones were aligned and back in place before stitching your muscles.” Bucky sat near you, making sure you were comfortable before grabbing your hand and kissing it. 

“Doll, I’m sorry but I gotta ask, what happened? D-did they do anything?”

“Besides nearly tearing my shoulder out, no. You came just in time as a matter of fact.” You tried to laugh but Bucky was in no way okay with this.

“Who was she?”

“Oh man, I- before my time at Shield, I was part of this...underground clan for lack of a better word. It wasn’t too different from The Red Room except they had a different approach to training and making sure you were recognized everywhere.” You pointed to your shoulder and saw Bucky’s expression change when he saw the scar. 

“Delilah and I were friends, or I thought we were, until I realized she was the reason I was constantly chosen for the rather intense training sessions, like a guinea pig, to illustrate what was asked of us. She loved those sessions, especially when I was the one being tested. She’s capable of so much more Buck and that’s why I cannot be thankful enough for you coming at that time.” Bucky was attentive to everything you said and hated that you went through something like this but he knew he needed to continue asking, unable to bring Steve in to question you.

“Doll, what was this clan called?” “Buck, I can’t. I just can’t. If you knew what I did, what I was a part of...I- I can’t have you looking away from me.” Tears ran down your cheeks and you looked up when you saw Bucky wiping them away aggressively before making you look at him.

“Baby listen to me. There is nothing on this earth that will make me feel any differently about you. You know what I’ve done and yet you’re here. With me. Just trust me darlin’, please. That’s all I’m asking you to do, trust me.”

“Besa Avlonya, they were originally Romanian but by the time I joined, they were mostly Albanian.” You looked down and saw Bucky sending a quick text to Steve before standing up. Thinking he was leaving, your heart rate elevated and Bucky turned to the EKG machine, immediately sitting down and taking your hand in his.

“I ain’t goin nowhere Y/N alright. I know how much you hate hospitals and I’m gettin’ you outta here. You said you trust me right?” He waited until you nodded before getting up to call the nurse.

Thirty minutes later, you were slowly standing up to get dressed. You were about to raise your arm when Bucky asked you to wait. 

“Doll, let me call a nurse to help you out.”

“No. Just no.” You made sure he knew this wasn’t to be discussed but he continued to ask anyway. 

“Please babe it’s okay, she’ll just-”

“You do it then.” 

Whatever Bucky thought you were going to say, that was definitely not it.

“Y/N I can’t, it’s not-”

“You’ve already seen me in lingerie Barnes you might as well. What’s the difference?” You raised an eyebrow at his obvious distress.

“I ain’t takin’ advantage of you darlin’.”

“You aren’t taking advantage if I don’t mind you seeing me like this.” Your voice didn’t waver when you said it, wanting to make Bucky understand that you meant it. Without exchanging any more words, Bucky slowly walked towards you, asking silently if he could undo your gown and you rolled your eyes at him before turning around. 

Gently, you felt his fingers undoing the back of the gown before it dropped to the floor and you felt him move away to grab your shirt. When he turned around, Bucky’s breath caught in his throat because he didn’t expect you to turn around as well. His jaw clenched and you could tell he was annoyed by your obvious comfort with him, finding it very hard to keep his eyes on your face and not on your bare torso. 

Speaking of hard, he suddenly felt his jeans getting tighter by the second and he had you to thank for that.

“God fucking damn it Y/N.” Bucky whispered before approaching you and shoving your shirt down your neck before taking his time with your arm. Before you could say anything, Bucky was kneeling down and grabbing your leg to put through your jeans, taking his time so you wouldn’t trip or feel anything in your shoulder. When you were fully dressed, Bucky stood in your space, breathing down on you before grabbing your neck and pulling you to his lips. You wound your arm around him, moaning in annoyance when he pushed away almost immediately.

“As much as I want this, I know how quickly things will escalate with you.” Bucky grabbed your things before opening the door for you.

“Maybe I want things to escalate.”

“Don’t fuckin’ tempt me Y/N.”

“Is that a suggestion or an order Sergeant?” As soon as you called him by his rank, you heard the metal plates shift, smiling to yourself because you could tell he was both angry and turned on.

“Fucking hell.” Bucky whispered before walking ahead, leaving you amused and happy at how things turned out.

By the time you got back to the compound, you had managed to get on Bucky’s last nerve. Between briefing and dinner, Bucky was, in every sense of the word, done with your teasing and he left without bothering to say good night. You had spoken to Steve and Natasha and told them what happened at the warehouse, trying to give them any information that could potentially help them in finding out more about the secret clan. When you finished and saw Bucky had already left, you decided to go to Bucky’s room, hoping he wouldn’t turn you away because you teased him a little too much.

Reluctantly standing at his door, you were about to knock when it suddenly opened, revealing a still-angry Bucky.

“What do you want?” Bucky practically growled at you and you realized you may have taken it a bit far. When he saw you standing there, slightly afraid of opening your mouth, he held the door open to let you in. You walked in and looked around, noticing that this was probably the first time you’ve ever seen his place.

“I- ummm, didn’t mean to. No that’s not what I want to say. I’m...god this is stupid, I shouldn’t have come.” You tried to walk towards the door but found Bucky blocking it, watching as he slowly shut it before approaching you.

“What do you want Y/N?” Bucky asked again, this time more patiently than earlier.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” You avoided looking at him, shaking your head when you watched him walk away to his bedroom. He stopped at the end of the hallway before motioning for you.

“Well, aren’t you comin’ doll?” Bucky smiled when he saw your expression shift to a rather giddy one, watching as you skidded towards him before walking in to his room. Taking your shoes and socks off, you looked around and realized you didn’t change into your pajamas.

“Here, take this. “ Bucky handed you one of his shirts and saw you just look at it.

“J-James, I still can’t wear it but I don’t want to ask you because then you’ll think that I’m bothering you again and that’s the last thing I want to do considering what you’ve done for me in the last twenty-four hours but I honest to god can’t put this on by myself and I just-”

“Jesus Christ you talk too much.” Bucky shook his head before throwing his shirt on the bed, kneeling down to take each leg out of your pants before shutting his eyes and helping you out of your shirt. He quickly put his own shirt through your arms before walking to the other end of the room to shut off the lights. 

You sat down and watched his every move, your heart almost skipping a beat when he took his shirt off and laid down on the other side of the mattress.

“I run hot Y/N and I’d rather neither of us wake up sweating.” He heard your little snort and narrowed his eyes at you before whispering something in Russian, motioning for you to lay do so he could cover the two of you.

“Let me know if I hurt you!” Bucky whispered before scooting closer to you and laying his arm across your body.

“Sweet dreams doll.”

“Night James.” 

[spunky-89]

Shipwreacked

A/N: So this is the next part in my titans!jason fic. This technically comes before Broken Ship but oh well, I never was good at posting things in a proper timeline  😂

If you haven’t yet, please take my poll to help me name this series because I’m struggling... https://forms.gle/VG6QcMY3nyGJJcTU6

Read part one and two here

WC: 1700

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

You weren’t thrilled being in San Francisco to hunt down a human assassin, but it was what your father had asked of you, and as much as you wanted to hate him, you wanted to please him. 

You were following the ridiculous feud between the assassin and the child heroes. You flinched when you thought about it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren’t going to run into him while on this quest. Rationalizing it due to the size of the city.

You had gotten a lead on where the assassin would be so you were prepared for him. Deathstroke. The killer of one Aqualad. Apparently, your father took a liking to him and wanted his killer dead.

You realized a few minutes before the broken team that the meet was a distraction from something else. Something with the elder Robin. You had no way to trace them though. So you waited until one of the others noticed and when the alien did, you followed after her. Sticking to rooftops using rainwater or open pipes to make bridges. By the time you got there, you heard something that stopped you cold.

You heard his scream. You saw Him falling to his death. You didn’t have to think twice before busting open a fire hydrant and jetting yourself up to intercept. But some kid jumped and grabbed him first. You used the water to cushion the fall for the unknown boy. You could see Him looking around, trying to spot the source of the water cushion. You stuck to the shadows, frozen in place. You could see his eyes from where you were. They were just as gorgeous as the last time you saw them.

You shook your head as the tears started to gather in your eyes. You moved to walk away when you saw Deathstroke slinking from the building. You moved to intercept him but you felt a searing pain in your shoulder, looking down to see blood spilling from a bullet wound in your chest. You turned around when you heard a second thump. You saw the kid who saved him on the ground with a similar wound to yours. You took a step and reached out to the water before the pain intensified and you let out a scream as you fell to the ground. You heard your name being called just before the black dots overtook your vision. But you knew exactly who it was.

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

You were in and out of consciousness. You could hear voices, sometimes soft and comforting, and other times loud shouts. All you knew was you were in pain, so you welcomed the unconsciousness each time. Until one time, you managed to stay awake just long enough to hear something that gave you hope.

“We need to get her to the beach!”

“Why? Give me a reason and I’ll agree but I’m not letting you take this girl to the beach on a hunch.”

“It’s not a hunch Dick, you gotta trust me.”

Then you were out again. The next time you woke up, you were underwater. You gasped as you felt the saltwater starting to close your wounds a bit. You let yourself sink to the bottom to breathe for a minute. You took in your surroundings. You were definitely on a beach, and if you had to guess, you’d have to say it was the San Francisco Bay. You took in your surroundings and saw legs covered in rolled-up jeans to your right. The face staring down into the water. You could hear yelling, but the face above you stayed focused on you. 

You swam backward and shot up from the water, breathing heavily due to pain and shock.

“What the fuck?!” You exclaimed, staring at the few people on the beach. You quickly recognized them as members of the Titans. Which meant the person in the water with you was Him. Which made sense. He was the only one who would have known that the water would heal you.

“(YN)?” He asked quietly.

“I’m fine, I’m good.” You spoke, clearing your throat, still refusing to even look in his direction. 

“Are you okay?” A tall man with brown hair and light eyes asked you as you started to walk towards the beach.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You said with a tight-lipped smile.

“How the hell are you dry?” A tall muscular man asked before getting elbowed by a petite blonde.

“Of all the questions you could-Sorry about him. Are you sure you’re doing alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, I promise. I’m all good.” 

“That’s bullshit.” You heard him mutter behind you.

You ignored him and proceeded to talk to the kind woman. “Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the nearest... anything?” You asked when you realized you were in the middle of nowhere. 

“Um, we’re about-”

“Why are you in a hurry?” asked the first man, cutting off the nice blonde.

 “Because I was kidnapped and now I’d like to know what direction to go to get back to civilization before all hell breaks loose at my disappearance.”

“We saved your life and that’s all you have to say?” The taller man asked, his voice dripping with distaste. 

“Thank you for saving my life, may I go now?”

“Are you just going to ignore me or are you going to acknowledge the fact that I’m the reason you’re alive.” You heard him say behind you, hearing him wading back to shore. 

“I said thank you, what more do you want? And might I remind you that the only reason my life was in danger was because I decided to save some dumbass who was falling from a building.” You turned to look at him and voice dripping with venom said, “If I’d known it was you I would have just let you fall and save myself the trouble.”

“WHoa! Let’s calm down here.” The blonde lady said, bringing my attention back to her.

“I’m perfectly calm right now, you’d know if I wasn’t. But I am getting annoyed that no one has given me any form of an answer as to where the fuck we are and if I’m getting a ride back to the city or have to find my own way.”

“Look, we’ll drive you back, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” She said as her eyes flicked down to my shoulder. 

You rolled your eyes and said, “Then let's go so I can move on with my life.”

“But seriously how are you dry and bonehead is sopping wet?” The muscular man asked.

“Oh I'm so stealing that name. But I’m surprised the bonehead in question didn’t give you the 411.” 

You all started walking off the beach to where an SUV was parked. As you walked you started taking a quick inventory of her appearance. She was in clothes that weren’t hers, but she was glad to feel the cold metal of her necklace against her collarbone. 

“Nah, said something about respecting a secret that isn’t his.” 

“Wow, didn’t think he had any honor so that’s a shock.”

The rest of the walk and the drive was quiet after that. You had been given the front seat so you weren’t squished in with people you didn’t know/like. You soon noticed that the driver, Dick as he’d introduced himself, was taking you to wherever their little lair was. It was a long and tense ride. When you pulled into a dark underground parking garage you whipped out a dagger and held it up to Dick’s throat. 

“If this is anything but what I think it is I will not hesitate to eliminate any or all of you. Do you understand?” You threatened.

“(Y/N)! Chill out!” he exclaimed.

“It’s okay Jason. Her point is valid.” Dick said calmly. “Just know that you pull another stunt like this and we will get a lot less friendly.” He threatened back.

You nodded and made a show of making your blade disappear in an instant. He raised an eyebrow, showing he was unimpressed. You smirked and exited the car, your Jackson attitude showing full force.

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

“Well your wound is definitely much better, but it’s still nowhere near healed.” A dark-skinned woman, Kori, informed you as she examined your shoulder.

“So I can go?” You asked hopefully.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you stayed here a few days so we can monitor your wound. Samples from your wound could help us save our other patient.” Dick said.

“I’m not playing guinea pig.” You said firmly.

“I’m not saying that. You can leave if you want, but we could use your help on this.” He said walking towards the door. He stopped in the threshold and turned back to you to say; “And I want to know exactly who you are and what the extent of your abilities are.”

You scoffed as he walked out. “Did he really just say that to me?”

The woman laughed and said, “Yes he did. He has the best intentions but,”

“His execution might need some work.”

“Yeah, you’d think with all that charm he’d be better at communicating with people.” She smiled as she shook her head.

“Oh gods you’re sleeping with him aren’t you.” You spoke as the dots connected in your head.

“I don’t think you have much grounds to stand on, cause the way I see things, we have a similar taste in men.”

“We so totally do not!” You defended quickly.

“So you were in a relationship though?”

“Look the past is in the past, leave it there please.”

“So that’s a yes then,” She smirked

“It’s a never was never will be kinda a situation.” You said, venom in your voice.

“You say that, but your first instinct was to catch him as he fell.”

“If I’d known it was him-”

“You’d have let him fall, yeah I heard. But I think you’re full of shit.”

“Look, lady, I’m cooperating cause I don’t feel like starting a war. Nothing more. So if you could please mind your own damn business it would be much appreciated.” You snapped as you stormed out of the room. Preparing yourself for the days to come.

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

Dial-a-priest (2/2)

A man slips his phone number into our favourite Fleabag’s back pocket, but it turns out to be a wrong number, connecting her directly to a priest. Chapter 2 of 2. Click here to read Chapter 1. Also on ao3.

"Is this the part where you ask me what I'm wearing?"

"What are you wearing?"

He looked down at himself. "Pyjamas."

"It's 7PM."

"They're comfy."

One night when he was just settling down with a cup of tea and another book, his phone rang.

"Hi," he said when he picked up.

"Hello, Father," said her voice at the other end of the line. English accent, a bit posh, wryly amused.

"You make voice calls? I thought you were a millennial."

"I'm old school. You're Irish."

"I know."

"I should have known. I was curious."

"Is this the part where you ask me what I'm wearing?"

"What are you wearing?"

He looked down at himself. "Pyjamas."

"It's 7PM."

"They're comfy."

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm wearing?"

"OK, but we're not having phone sex."

"I'm wearing the world's least comfortable cocktail dress and about three rolls of tit tape."

"Do I want to know what tit tape is?"

"Probably not. I went to a bar again."

Interesting. "Why?"

"I don't know. The last time I talked to someone in a bar he clearly thought I was in dire need of the phone number of an Irish Catholic priest."

"What did you say to him?"

"I think I was probably charming. I usually am."

He chuckled. "You're not wrong. Did you have a good time?"

"No. Someone grabbed my arse and I left. Didn't even have a drink."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Usually I would have ended up going home with him. I didn't want that. I think I just wanted to... make a friend?"

"Do you have other friends? Family?"

"Not really. My sister lives in Finland half the time. I haven't talked to her in a long time. Do you have a sister?"

"No. Why haven't you talked to her?"

"She thinks I tried to shag her husband, which is patently ridiculous because her husband is loathsome."

The urge to give priestly advice was too difficult to overcome. "Why don't you try calling her? If it's been a while, she might be glad to hear from you."

"I guess. Do you have a brother?"

"Yes. Why does she think you tried to fuck her husband?"

"Are you close with your brother?"

He laughed. "No. You didn't answer my question."

"Why aren't you close with your brother?"

"Come on."

"I fucked my best friend's boyfriend and then she walked into traffic and that's why she's dead," she said in a rush. He could hear the wince in her voice.

"Fuck."

"So when I told my sister that her husband tried to kiss me on her birthday and he told her that it was the other way around, she chose to believe that slimy bastard instead of me."

He took a long moment to digest this new information before responding. "You're walking around with a lot of pain inside you, aren't you?" he said gently, his heart aching in sympathy.

"Yeah, but..."

"What?"

"I just..."

"What?"

"It's my fault," she said simply. "All of it, I caused it. That's why I'm trying... to be better. I don't want to do that any more."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

She huffed a laugh. "That's why they put rubbers on the end of pencils."

"I like that."

"You can have it for free. My next witticism will be priced on a sliding scale."

"You're funny."

"For the right price."

Unknown number: I texted my sister

Unknown number: we're going to have coffee

"I think I might be going crazy," he said without preamble when she picked up the phone.

"Well, you do have bats in the belfry."

"They're in the attic, and that's a bit of a sore spot at the moment, so fuck off."

"Why do you think you're going crazy?"

"OK so I was on a train."

"Yes?"

"We were delayed at East Croydon and I looked out the window."

"Sane so far, continue."

"There was a fucking fox! In the window! It was looking right at me! Nobody else seemed to notice it but I know I saw it."

"That's not outside the realms of possibility. There are a lot of foxes about."

He shuddered. "Don't remind me. But it was looking right at me. Right in my eyes."

"You're cute, why wouldn't it look at you?"

"We were there for half an hour and it didn't stop staring at me!"

"Why were you at East Croydon for half an hour?"

"Southern Rail."

"Ah, I take it back. Southern Rail? You are completely insane."

"Fuck you." He paused, backtracking a few sentences in the conversation. "Wait, I'm cute?"

"Goodnight, Father."

"Uh, goodnight then, I guess."

"Don't let the foxes bite."

"You don't need to tell me twice."

After a few weeks of this, he was ready to admit that theirs was the closest friendship he had.

She knew that he was really grateful for Pam's help but that he also found her annoying nearly all the time. She knew about his parents, and his brother, and his weird cousin who kept sending him conspiracy theories on Facebook. She knew about the puns he made in the parish newsletter, and she knew where he hid the G&Ts.

He knew about her dead best friend, and her family, and the way her guinea pig was kind of a jerk sometimes. He knew that she tended to call late at night or just after the lunch rush was over. He even looked up her café online (there weren't that many guinea pig-themed cafés in the world, it turned out) and it was only a few streets away.

Which was a total fucking disaster.

He was a priest, for fuck's sake. He'd made a vow to love only God and to love God's people as a father, and most certainly not to pin beautiful, witty, acerbic women to the nearest flat surface and kiss them until he can't breathe.

It was imperative that they never meet in person. He was careful not to tell her which church was his, never to mention local shops and restaurants. He very conscientiously avoided going within a mile of the café.

There was no way they were ever going to meet, and he'd nearly convinced himself that it was a good thing.

The priest was leafing through the hymnals to see which ones needed to be replaced and trying very hard not to think about his problems, when he noticed one of the Youthie Band loitering in the doorway.

"Hi Jake," he called. "Are you alright?"

"I forgot my bassoon," he said in a mournful tone. "My aunt is bringing it."

Strange kid, but probably harmless. "Oh, fun. How are your bassoon lessons going?"

Jake trained his attention on someone over the priest's shoulder, ignoring the question entirely.

"Where's Claire?" he asked plaintively.

"Hi, Jake," said a woman's voice, strangely familiar. "She didn't want to come with me because she thinks you're creepy."

"What?"

"I'm joking, she's at work."

The priest turned around to greet the new arrival (and possibly to stand up for Jake, although his creepiness was undeniable and probably deserved to be addressed), and his heart just about stopped. Standing before him was the physical manifestation of his ungodly desires made flesh, walking around as though his world wasn't about to explode.

"Here's your clarinet," she said, handing Jake the case.

"It's a bassoon," he protested.

"It's a birth control device."

"You must be Jake's aunt," said the priest, regaining the ability to speak.

"Step-aunt," she corrected, turning to him. She gave a little start when she made eye contact but other than that managed to maintain her composure. "Hello, Father," she said with a smirk, holding out her hand.

He shook it, noticing distantly that her slender hand had a firm grip. "So Claire's your sister?" he managed, drinking in the sight of her, even more lovely in reality, a walking temptation.

A complicated series of emotions flashed across her face, all of which he could actually decipher given all of their long conversations about her family situation - and isn't that weird? Being able to completely read someone when you're meeting them in person for the first time?

"Yeah, Claire's my sister."

Jake made a little squeaking sound on hearing the word "Claire", making the priest remember that he was still standing there.

"Do you have a rehearsal to get to, Jake?" he prompted gently.

Jake nodded and walked away without a word.

"OK, good talk," said the priest to Jake's retreating back. He turned back to her, suddenly nervous. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Uh, welcome to my church. Do you like tea?"

In answer, she gave him an incredulous look and made a bee-line for the third pew from the back of the church, bending over to retrieve the cache of G&Ts that he'd mentioned in passing the other day.

"I'd think we need something stronger than tea given the situation, don't you?" she said, throwing one to him.

He fumbled to catch the can and dropped it on the floor inelegantly with a few murmured curses.

"Now I think of it, I remember you mentioning that you were bad at sports," she said with an apologetic grimace.

He picked up the can and opened it gingerly, took a large and restorative swig, then ushered her into a side room for some privacy. They perched on rickety folding chairs opposite each other, and she stared into his eyes, studying him in a way that made him feel uncomfortably exposed.

"So you live ten minutes from my café," she stated flatly. He nodded. "Did you know this the whole time?"

He winced. "I figured it out a few weeks ago. I can't, I'm sorry, I didn't want to intrude," he lied. He had wanted to intrude, in so many ways.

She shrugged, amenably accepting his explanation. "I just assumed you lived in Ireland. I didn't know we still had Catholics here."

"We send a few over every year as a punishment for when you enslaved our whole country."

They laughed together, such an easy connection, and his fingers itched with the urge to grab her and kiss her.

"The photos didn't do you justice," she said, giving him a thorough and obvious once-over. The blood thrummed in his veins as his eyes drifted down her body in return.

He sucked in a breath and tried very hard to keep his cool.

"You're the single most beautiful human being I've ever seen, and the fact that you're in my church right now is ruining my fucking life," he blurted out.

Fuck.

She softened visibly and stood up, draining the rest of her drink. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. We can just talk on the phone." She was watching him with immense gentleness, seeing right through into his very soul. "I like talking to you. It's OK."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I don't want to send you away, I just-" He stood up, rubbing his temples with one hand. "I like talking to you, too," he said softly, looking utterly lost.

She crossed the room and took his face in her hands, bringing their foreheads to rest together. "I'm glad I met you," she whispered, slipping her fingers to card through his hair. He leaned into the touch like a needy cat and let out a shuddering breath.

She pulled away to press a chaste kiss to his forehead, getting ready to leave, and something inside him snapped. He backed her up against the crumbling brick wall, and finally let himself taste the ruby-red lips that had been whispering in his ear for weeks. She made a pleased noise and kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

"Are you sure?" she asked as they broke for air.

"I'm sure," he panted, hiking up her legs to wrap around his waist, and let the life he'd built crash down around them.

[phxse-shifter]

Love Fool [Chapter 2]

Summary: Elaine is accused by many of trying to betray Dr. X because she refused PROJECT-X. Eventually, he began to believe those accusations, forcing her to prove her loyalty. A rewrite of the original story posted on my art blog.

Chapter 2: Elaine heals from PROJECT-X, and assesses her new power, before getting a new mysterious one, courtesy of Sharon and Kaito, but when the effects of the injection do not subside as predicted, they must call on the one person Elaine does not want to see right now.

Word count: 1922

Eventually, morning came. Kaito and Sharon found somewhere Elaine could sleep for the night, and she willed herself to do so for a couple of hours. When she awoke, she made her way to the bathroom and cleaned herself. She did not process her change of appearance until after she was in the middle of her shower and she saw her veins glow red. She nearly fell in shock, but managed to quickly clean herself and come out of the shower carefully. She nearly ran to a floor mirror in the suite and stared at her body in full.

Her veins glowed brilliantly, across her entire body. She wondered if it would stay like this, or if it was just a side effect of the injection. Either way, it looked surreal to her. Somehow, she could feel the power of PROJECT-X seeping through her veins—that’s what it was. This power. What would she get? How would it awaken? Kaito did mention something about a “gift.” Her thoughts were jumbled, but Elaine felt powerful and beautiful, all at the same time.

She noticed her eye then and gasped. From the beautiful onyx to a deep red. Her eyes would be red now. Elaine didn’t know how to feel about that, having loved her eye color, but at least she didn’t grow an extra arm or leg after this. Then, she notices her hair. Despite it being wet, she noticed the length increased slightly, and the bang that covered the right side of her face was shorter. Eventually, she lifted up that hair. For the third time, Elaine cried.

When Elaine first began as a botanist, she was sabotaged by another jealous member in her field that worked in the same facility as her. When she went to her section, where she worked, the sap of a giant hogweed plant was thrown in her face, narrowly avoiding her eye. The right side of Elaine’s face burned tremendously, and while all the disgusting blisters went away and it healed, the damage, in full, never went away.

Not until now.

Elaine scorned what happened to her. She believed it to be an accident, wanted it to be, but she knew it was because of that jealous rival. The years she scorned that face and hid it would mean nothing to her now. Her younger self would marvel before how she looked now. Elaine touched her cheek, just to be sure. She pinched herself, but yes, it was truly gone and she cried louder in happiness.

“I-It’s gone!” She shouted. “It’s gone! It’s gone! It’s gone!”

For once, Elaine would show her face in full. Later on, she would put her bangs back as she grew fond of it, but she would show her face in full, just this once. If there was one good thing she got out of all of this, is the personal justice for something that should have never happened to her. Now all she had to do for even more justice, is to find the ones who started the rumors about her and make themsee just how big of a mistake they made.

She dressed and began her plans.

It didn’t take long. The truth now is that all feared her and there would be no more whispers of her name behind closed doors. They feared speaking of her and being crushed beneath her foot. They did not want to end up like the ones that began the rumors of her faux betrayal in the first place.

Elaine found those people and tortured them within an inch of their life, in front of everyone. She broke all their fingers, their legs, their arms, and cut out—literally—the tongues that spoke such lies. Their screams were enough to alert her husband, who looked at her in shock.

“If you want to know who to blame, then blame my husband,” she said aloud to the crowd that gathered, as well as the pair who spread the rumors. “Had he believed me, and believed in my loyalty to him, you would not be undergoing this pain. I would not have had to change myself. Speak your grievance to him- oh... Wait... You can’t. Haha!”

Dr. X looked at her, and Elaine laughed, turning on her heel.

She visited Kaito and Sharon next, allowing herself in and plopping herself up on the steel examination table. She crossed her leg, grinning.

“You didn’t tell me that the injection got rid of scars, too. Unless that was a side effect?”

“I would imagine that since Dr. X wanted the subject “perfect” that it would do such a thing,” Sharon responds.

“Oh of course,” Elaine rolled her eyes. “Oh well. At least they’re gone now. No more scars.”

“While you’re here, I may as well check your vitals,” Kaito chimes in.

As he does so, Elaine hums. She would have to think of some sort of suitable reward for the two of them later.

“Heard about earlier,” Sharon mentioned. “The culprits?”

“Oh yeah,” Elaine shrugged. “I cut our their tongues and broke all of their bones. They’ll either be killed or given to the both of you for further experiment.”

Sharon chuckled. “I don’t think we’ll have a use for them.”

“That’s fine,” Elaine tells her. “Better off dead anyways.”

As Kaito finishes checking her vitals, he walks over to the same cabinet that held the PROJECT-X vials and unlocks it again, this time taking out an orange glowing vial. Elaine eyed it curiously even as  Kaito brought it over and got the necessary items for the injection.

“Do you remember why I gave you the green injection?”

Elaine remembered something about “the gift”, but Kaito didn’t elaborate, so all she did was nod.

“The green is to amplify the power that the PROJECT-X injection will give you. Some get it, some do not. It goes by your husband’s order,” he explained, rolling up Elaine’s sleeve and placing EMLA creamon her arm.

“I didn’t think he’d mind if we gave you it, so we did,” Sharon adds. “Now this particular injection is something I’ve made myself, of course, with Kaito’s help. “Do you recall that I make most of the dice for the Genius League?”

“I do,” Elaine tells her. “But what does that have to do with this?”

“I created the Crimson Blizzard dice, which was modeled after, of course,  the Blizzard dice which froze over an entire city. Now THAT, I thought was marvelous. Unfortunately, as I wanted it to be pure fire, it’s more or less a blizzard which holds the same scalding touch as fire. Think piles of snow, but red and hot. Lava’s cousin.”

Sharon gently takes Elaine’s arm. There’s a glint in her eyes, a shine on her glasses, and a mischievous aura that both she and Kaito knew oh so well. She was in “the zone.” Sharon was having her moment as head scientist of the Midas Group. To anyone else, it would be unnerving.

“While the dice was banned from tournaments, and Dr. X was… ahaha, royally pissed off considering I burned down an entire city using it for the first time, I secretly expanded on it’s power. Something like that was too good to pass up, and I do not pass up wonderful opportunities.”

She took the vial and syringe away from Kaito, who took a step back as if preparing for something.

“Tell me already,” Elaine orders.

“Expanding on the Crimson Blizzard in secret was no easy feat. So many failed trials, burn marks, quickly hiding the research from Dr. X, you get the idea.. but finally… FINALLY, I perfected it!” Sharon explains. “ I turned a dice into a power that could be embedded into one’s body, giving them limitless possibilities…!”

“Do you understand?” Kaito asks her. “That’s what’s in this vial, and Sharon is more than prepared to administer it to you.”

Elaine sighed. So, more or less, their gift was also at the expense of her being Sharon’s guinea pig. She wanted to pull her arm away, to deny this, but she was curious above all. That would be a different power she wielded. Elaine always used dark arts, curses, and anything else in that category. To wield something like fire could yield endless possibilities for her.

“If this hurts me in any way-“

“Oh please,” Sharon cuts her off. “You have PROJECT-X now. Nothing can harm you.”

Sharon immediately administers the injection with no warning. At first, Elaine does not feel anything, but once again, as if déjà vu, she feels her body aflame, even more intense than the PROJECT- X injection the previous night. She screams, falling from where she was sitting all of this time and is braced by Sharon, who holds her tightly.

“Give it just a few more minutes,” she tells her. “It settles quickly.”

Elaine can feel her blood boiling, literally. She noticed her veins glowing brighter than they were earlier, despite her eyes getting blurry. Despite Sharon telling her that the injection should have settled quickly, her body still felt aflame, and she was sweating tremendously. Even Sharon notices this, and tells Kaito to get one of his cooling robes.

Weakly, Elaine dresses in the robe and she can feel it’s effects for mere seconds before the heat overtakes her again.

“Sharon. Are you certain you went over all abnormalities that could happen with this damned injection?”

“Yes!” She snapped. “Of course I did, or else I wouldn’t have given it, especially to you! Do you think me a fool or what?!”

“There’s one way we can fix this, and you’re not going to like it, Doctor,” Kaito adds.

“What?”

“Your husband is the greatest ice elementalist to ever live, isn’t he?”

The time flies by. Elaine finds herself back in her suite, with her husband, who was able to cool her body with his magic alone. So much so, that Elaine found herself taking up a blanket to wrap around her body. He said nothing to her, but that was fine. She didn’t have anything to say to him, either. When he noticed her reaching for the blanket, he stopped. Elaine got up from the bed, then, and went towards the door, grabbing her shoes.

“You’re leaving?”

“Of course,” Elaine tells him. “I don’t want to be around you. You hurt me. You took the seven years of our marriage and desecrated it because you’d rather believe rumors than the love I had for you. So for now, I don’t want to see your face. I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

“Elaine-“

“I said I don’t want to hear it.”

“I love you-“

Elaine freezes at the door. She turned her head to look at him and she could see sincerity, but her heart still fueled with anger. Why couldn’t he have shown that yesterday? Why couldn’t he have said that instead of yelling at her? Before Elaine can stop herself, tears roll down her cheeks. She hugs herself tightly, and Dr. X gets up to her, and wraps his arms around her.

“Why? Why did you… How could you do this, to me? Don’t you realize that this is cruel, even for you…?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he explained. “I didn’t know what to think.”

Elaine wiggles away from him, and opens the door.

“I can’t forgive you just yet,” she says sternly, through her tears. “I still feel so hurt by you.”

The door shuts behind her.

[daryls-dixon-antoni]

Chapter 11.) Slabtown

I wake up in a plain white room; so much like a hospital, the sound of ticking echoing in my head.

I blink a couple of times, looking around in confusion. My wrist is bandaged up, as though by a doctor and I have an IV drip in my other arm.

I stand up and limp around, when I look down I see that my ankle has been wrapped more professionally as well. I'm definitely in a hospital room, there's a part of me that wonders if everythings just been a dream; like one of those fever dreams.

If I open the door; I'll be back in a world that still makes sense. My husband, sons and daughter will all still be alive. Hell; I bet their on the other side!

I rush over to the door, and try to pull it open to find it ... locked.

It was all real, then.

I start pounding as hard as I can against the door, trying to break it open. That's when I hear what sounds like a police scanner; so I immediately look around my room for any weapons. None. Okay, breathe, uh.... IV! I pull out the IV from my arm, and brace myself for a fight.

When the door clicks unlocked and a woman in a police uniform walks in, her light brown hair tied back into a tight ponytale and a strict 'no nonsense' look on her face, and a balding man with glasses and a beard following right behind her dressed in a doctor's uniform complete with a stethoscope.

I have my hands and feet in the proper boxing positions, but I wait to make my move, watching them closely.

The man has his hands up and addresses me as though I were a wounded animal, "Everything's okay. Okay?"

My eyes move to the Police Lady, instinctively knowing she's the bigger threat. She seems to know she is, and orders, "Put it down," she's gesturing to my IV Needle I still have clasped in one hand. "Drop it right now." I shrug, dropping the needle, but not my fighting stance.

"I'm Dr. Steven Edwards," the doctor dude puts his hands into his pockets as the lady puts her thumbs in her belt. They're trying to get me calm. I relax my stance, letting my hands fall to my sides, but keep my muscles ready for a fight.

"This is Officer Dawn Lerner. How are you feeling?"

"Where am I?" I snap.

"Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta," Dr. Edwards reponds.

"Atlanta? No. No! How the hell'd I get to Atlanta?"

"My officers found you on the side of the road surrounded by rotters."

"Run! Get out!" I blink back the vision of Daryl fighting off all those corpses. I'll never know if he made it. Just like I'll never know if Mason did.

"Your wrist and ankle were both fractured and you sustained a superficial head wound," Dr. Edwards says. "Can you remember your name?"

"My name?"

"Yes, do you know it?" Dawn asks, coldly.

"It's Antionette. Can I go?"

"If we hadn't saved you, you'd be one of them right now. So you owe us."

Dr. Edwards and I walk into a room with beeping monitors and a respirator hooked up to an unconscious man.

"Couple of them out there were on a run about a week ago. They found two boxes of Bisquick and a Merle Haggard tape at a truck stop, and then this gentleman under a bridge. Cardiac arrest and extreme dehydration.

"And I tried to do what I could," he steps forward and after pushing a few buttons, all the machines turn off.

We stab the guy in the head and move the body to a metal gourney.

"Somebody ran out of dolls to dress up."

I close my eyes deeply and then we wheel the dead guy out of the room. Dawn is talking to another police guy with short black hair.

"Hold up," the Dr. says, and he starts speaking with Dawn. I don't pay much attention, just trying to keep my head down so I can get out; find my son, find Daryl, find Sev.

Breaking out seems like one of my best bets, I recognize the type of people these guys are. They keep you in debted to them so you can never leave.

When we start moving again, I ask the Dr. "How many people do you people have?"

"Just enough to keep us going," is his answer. When he realizes I won't be responding he continues, "Some of us started here, some came as patients. Everyone has a job." Some came as patients... meaning they never left.

We toss the man down an elevator shoot.

When I'm retreiving food for the Doctor, a police guy with salt and pepper hair and eyes that bother me for some strange reason says, "You're looking better and better," I stare him down. "We had a lead on some guns, so me and my partner were pretty far out. That's when we saw you, wriggling in the road." I blink, but don't turn away. "You don't remember me, huh?" Silence. "Yeah, one of them rotters was eyeing your thighs when we showed up. But I got there first. Jacked that rotter up. I'm Gorman." I continue to stare. "When someone does you a favor, it's a courtesy to show some appreciation. Unless you want me to write down everything you're taking. Everything costs something, right?" I ignore him and take the tray, and walk away.

As I'm walking down the hall towards the Doctor's room, I hear Dawn barking orders. "We'll find Joan. Until then, you've got laundry duty and I want my uniform."

A boys voice joins in as they both say, "washed separately and pressed." Dawn stops talking, but the boys' voice says, "I know."

"Smart-ass," is Dawn's response.

I walk into the Doctor's room to the sound of real music, and he's sitting with his feet on a desk, flipping throuth a book, he sighs, "I used to feel like I was drowning in research. Now the oceans are dry," he slams the book closed, "and I'm suffocating in boredom. He throws the book across the room.

I stare at him and he points at a painting displayed next to his desk, "That's Junior Kimbrough. Do you like it?"

I glance at it, the imagry is nice. "I guess," I say, shrugging.

I then place his tray on his desk, and he looks at me, "Where's your food?"

"I am not eating anything from here. I can't owe you people anymore than I already do. I need to leave as soon as I can."

"Have you ever tried guinea pig?"

"No, I haven't." I respond.

"I didn't think so." He smiles, and gestures to the place in front of him, "Sit down." I hesitate, looking at him closely. "Dawn doesn't have to know. Come on." He reasures me, so I take a seat and he clears some of his books off his cluttered desk before cutting a peice of the guinea pig and offering me to take a bit off the fork. I grab the fork and try it. It's not half bad.

"Well?"

I shrug, not wanting to speak too much to anyone here. He laughs, "It's good enough for Peru."

He also takes a bite, and I look around his very cluttered room. Honestly, the place is a mess, but it's somehow also homey. The doctor gestures back to the painting, "It's a Caravaggio. I found it on the street outside the High. Like trash." He stands up, "It doesn't have a place anymore. Art isn't about survival. It's about transcendence. Being more than animals. Rising above." I listen to him talk about his art a while longer.

"We got a new one," A new police woman says.

They are pushing in a gourney with a man on top of it. A new male police officer adds, "Found his wallet. His name is Gavin Trevitt."

The woman continues, "Fell from a first floor apartment trying to get away from some."

The man walks past me to whisper in Dawn's ear as Dr. Edwards starts checking the man out, "He's lost a lot of blood and his vitals are dropping. I don't think he's gonna make it."

The male officer addresses Dawn out loud, "We've already given him gas-"

Dawn cuts him off, "I got this. You said you wanted to save people, so save him."

"I don't even know the extent of his injuries," Dr. edwards states, "Look, this one's a loser. You said you didn't want me wasting resources."

"Well, today I want you to try."

Dr. Edwards considers this for a moment before turning to me, "Okay, plug the EKG and the ultrasound into that battery pack, go."

I move and do as he says, and he says, "Good. Good, good, good. Now attach it to the patient."

I do so, and the moniter begins beeping, and as Dr. Edwards starts doing an Ultrasound on the guys chest, the beeping becomes loud and rapid.

"Tension pneumothorax. Punctured lung. Antionette, I need a large hollow needle in that cabinet." He goes to give me a set of keys, but Dawn intercepts them and opens the cabinet, grabbing the hollow needle and handing it to Dr. Edwards who stabs it into the mans chest, clearing his airway, I think? Whatever he's doing, it causes blood to squirt out throuth the needle.

The beeping on the machine slows and Dawn asks, "Is he gonna make it?"

"He fell from a building, Dawn."

"Is he going to make it?"

Dr. Edwards pulls open the mans lower shirt, "You see these bruises? He has internal bleeding, but I need a CAT scan to know how bad. And even if I could determine that, I don't have the tools to save him. I told you, this was a waste of resources."

Dawn turns around and slaps me, breaking open my stitches, and it takes every single ounce of self control not to punch her right back.

I tightly clench my jaw as Dawn says, "Steve, try to grasp the stakes here," she then walks out, slamming the door behind her.

We go to 'my room' to stitch my cheek back up despite my arguments to leave me alone.

When he finishes he says, "Noah left you a new shirt."

"I don't want a new shirt," I mumble, looking at the clean scrub top that matches the one I already have on.

"She likes things neat," Dr. Edwards states, pointing to the blood stain on my shirt.

"Shouldn't have slapped me. There wouldn't be any blood on my shirt if she hadn't."

He sighs, "I'll wait for you outside."

I change shirts, finding a lollipop inside of my new one. I stash it under my pillow before leaving the room to see two police people struggling with a woman who most definitely does not want to be here. She's wearing the same blue scrubs I'm in.

"Dawn needs you, now," the male officer states, so we rush in after them all.

"She's lucky we found her. Whatever you were thinking, it wasn't worth it. Okay, you have two choices. Either we cut off your arm or you do."

"Screw you and your little bitch!-"

"Smart-ass whore," Gorman states, moving towards the woman, but Dawn pushes him back, "Gorman, get out of here!"

Dr. Edwards approaches the woman, only to get kicked by her, Dawn holds her down as Dr. Edwards says, "It's anesthetic. You need it."

"Go to hell," is the woman's response.

"She made her choice," Dawn states. "Do it. Do it."

Dr. Edwards takes something out of his pocket, obviously he is going to use it as a tourniquet.

"No, no, no! I said leave me alone!"

"We're not going to let you die! We are not going to let you turn!"

I start to walk out the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dawn seethes.

"I don't want any part of this."

"Do you want her to die?"

"She wants to die, that's obvious."

"Help us save her."

"Antionette," Dr. Edwards states, "I need you to hold her down. Do it now," He sounds much calmer and kinder.

"Now."

I move forward and help hold down the poor sobbing woman.

"Keep your hands off me! I'm not going back to him!"

"You don't have to," Dawn reassures her.

"You can't control them!"

"I will."

"Antionette, you ready?" The doctor asks me, and I nod, helping hold down the woman who begins to struggle even harder, trying to thrash as she screams. Dr. Edwards saws off her entire lower arm. No remorse, I guess.

I go into the laundry room to get rid of my new set of bloodied uniform per Dawn's request.

"You okay?" A darker skinned boy asks, his hair is cut short and a kind smile is on his face, "I'm Noah. Of the Lollipop Guild."

"Antionette," I greet, shaking his hand. "Thanks for the sucker."

"Figured you could use a pick-me-up after this morning." I hand him my dirty uniform, and he says, "Guess I should have brought the whole jar." He hands me a new uniform saying, "Here, this should fit."

"Do you know why that curly haired woman left?" I ask. "I mean, how long did she really have left before she payed what was due here and got to leave without them dragging her back?"

Noah shakes his head, "I haven't seen it work like that yet."

"What do you mean, how long you been here?"

"I guess about a year. Dad and I were both pretty messed up when they found us. They said that they could only save one. For the longest time, I actually believed them. Now I get it. Dad was bigger, stronger. Would have fought back. Would have been a threat."

I frown, "They let your dad die?"

"And Dawn just looked the other way. See, she's in charge, but just barely. And it's getting worse. It's why I'm out of here when the time is right. I came looking for my uncle. Gotta get back to my mom."

"Where is she at?" I ask, kindly.

"Richmond. Virginia. We had walls. See, they think I'm scrawny. They think I'm weak. But they don't know shit about me. About what I am. About what you are."

"You don't know me. But I need to go find my son, so I understand what you mean."

"You have a son?" I nod. "How old?"

"Just over ten now."

I'm doing some work for Dr. Edwards, currently pouring bleach into a tin bucket, when Dawn walks in behind me.

"Shepherd, you've already pulled a double. I got it from here."

I tense my muscles as she orders away her officer, leaving us alone and without witnesses.

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks."

I hear Dawn approach me and turn to see her holding a tray of food as she says, "I know you didn't have breakfast. Peace treaty?"

"I'll eat when I get out."

Dawn sits on a red container and pats the one next to her. I stay standing and just look at her, "You know, you shouldn't see this as a sentence. I'm giving you food, clothes, protection. When have those things ever been free?"

I look at her, "I know how to hunt for food, I have no problem with messy clothes, and hand me my pocket knife back, and I wouldn't need your protection, either."

"But you did need it." I glare at her, unamused. "Try to look at the good we're doing. Hard as it was, we saved Joan's life. Trevitt's life. We saved your life. I'm keeping all of us going here. That is not a small thing. It's taken a lot to get us here, Antionette. And I believe that what we had before all of this isn't over. And when we're finally rescued, when this nightmare ends, we're gonna need to rebuild."

"You seriously think someone's coming? After all this time, seriously?"

"There's still people like us, Antionette." She snaps, "People trying to keep the world alive, to fix it. Until then, we all have to contribute. To compromise. If we take, we give back. It's only fair. So keep working off what you owe and you'll be out of here in no time. If that's what you want."

"I think I made it clear that's what I'll be doing."

"Well, then you have to eat. Otherwise, you'll get weak. You won't heal, you'll require more treatment, and you won't be able to do your job."

"You could let me go out and hunt. I'll catch and eat my own food."

"We don't leave if it's not a necessity. I know you didn't ask for this. I didn't either." I stare her down, and she gives a hefty sigh, before getting up and walking out.

I was asked to clean the blood from the floor of the now one handed woman's room, I mop the floors whilst quietly singing,

"I'm only human and I bleed when I fall down, I'm only human and I crash and I break down. You're words in my head, knifes in my heart, you build me up then I fall apart, I'm only human..."

"Hmm. That's really nice"

I look at Joann, who is now awake and looking at me, "Do you want me to go get Dr. Edwards?"

"No, please. Not yet."

"I'm sorry I helped them..." I tell her.

"She can control them. But she doesn't because it's easier. Because she's a coward."

"How bad did Gorman hurt you?" I ask, softly.

She shakes her head, "It doesn't matter. I guess it's easy to make a deal with the devil when you're not the one paying the price."

Back in my room I look underneath my pillow to try to find that lollipop Noah had given me.

"Lose something?" Gorman's voice asks from my doorway. He pulls the sucker from his pocket and unwraps it, "This is yours, ain't it?" He puts it in his mouth. "Mmm." He pops it back out of his mouth, "Sour apple. Like the kind Dawn acquired from pediatrics." He steps closer to me, but I hold my ground. "Suppose you could have a taste. See if it rings any bells."

"I don't want it," I say, as calmly as I can.

"Oh, come on, now." He puts the sucker on my lips, "I just want to be sure I'm returning this to its rightful owner." He tries forcing it into my mouth, so I slap him, hard across the face with my casted arm.

He steps back a hand holding his cheek as he looks at me with blood boiling anger behind his devilish eyes.

He takes a threatening step towards me when we both hear Dr. Edwards voice from the door, "Leave her alone."

"The girl should have been mine."

"Nobody's yours, Gorman. Nobody. And if you think you're getting Joan back-"

"Oh, I'm gonna get her back." He turns to face Dr. Edward, and asks, "You think Dawn's gonna stop me?"

"I will."

"You stepping up, Doc?" Gorman takes a step towards Dr. Edwards.

"What happens when you get sick, Gorman? When you get an infection? When you get bit?"

"Hmm. I think there's gonna be somebody. Somebody who ain't you."

Dawn approaches the scene with another police dude, Dawn says, "Gorman." With a warning tone to her voice.

"And maybe somebody in charge who ain't her." He says, putting the sucker back in his mouth as he backs back out of the room, Dawn leaving with him.

I look at Dr. Edwards, "What the hell is his problem?"

"Come on, let me tell you a story."

We go onto the roof, looking out into a broken down Atlanta.

"When everything started, Dawn reported to a guy named Hanson. They had orders to clear the hospital and move everyone to Butler Park. It was close to midnight when we heard the jets, the bombs. The screams. I was on the third floor. Dawn and Hanson's teams were doing a final sweep. And we knew it was bad. Just didn't know how bad till we came up here. The city had fallen. And everyone we evacuated they were just gone. We kept mostly to ourselves at first. Till the food ran out. We started going out on runs, a few of us at a time. We'd see people who needed help. Barely holding on. But we were barely holding on ourselves. Came a time I couldn't look away anymore. I found this kid. Napalm burns on his clothes, his skin. Dawn said we couldn't spare the resources. So we struck a deal. I'd use what I could to heal him and he'd compensate us for those resources through service. Now-"

"You're not at fault for what she's turned this into."

"We lost some people, that's what's at fault. Hanson cracked. He made some calls that got people killed. Dawn took care of things. She took care of him. She saw us past it. Kept us together. Kept us alive."

"How is this living?" I ask, watching him pace.

He chuckles darkly, "We're still breathing. Patients we brought here, they're still breathing. Outside these walls, alone, unprotected, they'd be dead. We'd be dead. We're not the ones who make it. As bad as it gets, it's still better than down there."

"You're wrong. I am one of the one's who will make it. I need to get back to work."

"How about you look in on Mr. Trevitt and call it a day?"

"Alright, I guess."

"He's stable, due for another 75mg of Clozapine. And tomorrow we'll start fresh."

I walk away, and go prepare the Clozapine, crush it to dust, liquify it and then insert it into the man's arm.

"Still at it, huh?" Noah asks, startling me.

"Yeah," I agree, giving a heavy sigh before all the machines start beeping rapidly, and Mr. Trevitt starts seizing, my heart stops, "Fuck!"

Dawn stabs the now dead Mr. Trevitt in the head then rounds on me, "What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything," I reply, coldly.

"He was fine until the two of you were alone with him. Something happened. I want you to tell me."

"It was an accident," Noah starts and I look at him, "Antionette left to get some gauze. I was mopping. I must have unplugged the ventilator somehow. It only stopped for a minute."

"That isn-"

Noah cuts me off, "I got it working again."

"Take him to my office," Dawn orders.

Gorman pulls Noah's arm and drags him out of the room.

Dr. Edwards steps forward, "Dawn, it was an accident." Dawn storms out of the room. "It was an accident," Dr. Edwards repeats.

"Noah lied, Mr. Trivett started seizing. It killed him."

"Seizing? Well, you gave him Clonazepam, right?"

"Clonazepam? You didn't say Conazepam. You'd said Clozapine."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

I hear Noah yell, "Please!" from down the hall and go to rush to his side, to tell Dawn the truth; but Dr. Edwards stops me, "Antionette, we need to deal with Mr. Trevitt while he's still warm."

"You deal with Mr. Trevitt, but I have to stop her!" I snap, as I hear Noah continuing to plead, "Please, stop Please!"

"We can't- you can't stop it."

I pull my bedding up on my bed, wondering how in the hell I ended up here? I'd give almost anything to be back out in the world of the dead then to have to deal with this places weird ass politics. This places crooked people.

Dawn comes in, closing my door behind her. "You really think I didn't know?" I stare at her. "Noah's smart. Probably my best worker. But that story he told about the ventilator? Boy's not much of a liar."

"So you, what? Beat him for the hell of it?"

"I didn't want to. I had to. A good man's mistakes almost ended everything for us, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that happen again. Every sacrifice we make needs to be for the greater good. The second it isn't, the second we lose sight of that, it's all over. The thing is, you're not the greater good. You're not strong enough."

"I'm plenty strong."

"How many people had to risk their lives to save you? In here, you are part of a system. The wards keep my officers happy. The happier my officers are, the harder they work to keep us going. And this hasn't been easy. There have been compromises, but it's working. And after they rescue us, we're gonna help put the world back together. Because we're the ones holding on. That's the good we're doing here. That's the good you're doing here. That's what makes you worth something. But out there you are nothing. Except dead or somebody's burden."

"You're wrong." I say, glaring at her.

"Oh, yeah? Some people just aren't meant for this life, and that's okay."

"I was literally raised for this life. My siblings and I called our childhood home the Zombie Bootcamp. When the world fell to shit, I single handedly kept not only myself alive, but my husband and two boys as well."

"And where are they now?"

I take a step back.

"Like I said, some people aren't meant for this, and as long as they don't take advantage of the ones who are, it's okay." She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

I find Noah and see his eye already blackened and swollen.

"Oh my god," I whisper.

"It's not as bad as it looks. I'm okay. Watch," he flicks his bruise, "Painkillers. It barely even hurts. Dawn needed Trevitt for something. I know that's what that was about. Screwed-up thing is, she's trapped, too."

"We aren't trapped. I'm getting us out of here."

"Basement's the fastest way out. Any noise and we got rotters."

"Easy fix, we stay quiet."

"I can keep an eye on Dawn. She keeps a spare key to the elevator banks somewhere in her office. Think you can find it?"

"Hell yeah, I can."

I wait and watch for Noah's signal, and as soon as I get it I quickly and quietly make my way to Dawn's office.

I first search her filing cabinet; but only find the wallet to Mr. Trivett, my curiousity get's the best of me, and when I look inside, I see that he was a doctor. Things start falling into place in my head.

I move to the desk to see Joann, dead on the floor. Suicide.

I start rummaging through the desk, break open her bottom drawer and take the key right as Gorman opens the door, "Hey there. I hope I'm not interrupting," he closes the office door behind him.

"Dawn asked me to fetch her key for her," I say, holding it up for him to see.

"Did she, now? See, I was just with Dawn and I don't seem to remember that." He steps in front of me, enclosing me between him and the desk, "It's okay. Maybe she doesn't have to know. Maybe there's another solution. You know? A little win-win for both of us." He sniffs my hair and I try to pull away from him, noticing Joann's hand move. She's becoming reanimated. "So how about it, Annie? We gonna work something out here?" I close my eyes and nod; ready for Joann to get up and eat this son of a bitch. "Good girl. Now, Joan, she's not such a team player. Lucky for me you're not being a fighter." His hand goes up my shirt and I immediately bash his head with the jar of suckers, he falls right onto Joann, who in turn immediately attacks Gorman. Good, one less douchebag to deal with. I grab his gun off him and stuff it into my pants before walking towards Noah.

Dawn stops me by saying my name, "Everything okay?"

I nod then say, "Hey, I think Gorman was trying to speak to you, said he'd be in your office."

"Thank you, Antionette." I nod.

Noah and I start rushing towards the elevators, I tie some bedsheets to the edge and Noah asks, "Ready?"

I nod, beginning to tie him in the sheets. "I'll come down after you, alright?"

"Okay."

I gently lower him down and then toss the rest of the towels and bedsheets over, ready to lover myself down. But one of the dead jump out at me from one of the floors and I fall, my landing cushioned by the stinky unanimated dead people that have been thrown down here.

Noah holds the flashlight and I hold my new gun. When Noah is grabbed by one of the reanimated dead, I start shooting them all, every one of them in the head as I continue to push both Noah and myself towards freedom. Once we're out in the daylight, I take off, the dead blocking off our exit; so I go to the side; a hole on the fence allowing us an escape route. I try to keep my pace slow enough that I can help Noah get out, but that's when I get surrounded by the dead. I keep fighting my way to freedom, when someone jumps on me and pins me to the ground, I struggle until I see that Noah has made it to safety and that its one of the living now currently handcuffing me. I completely relax, letting the man pull me painfully up and then back inside.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Does it matter?" We are in Dawn's office with the two dead bodies. "Why do you let this shit happen?" I ask, gesturing to the dead bodies. "Why did it take her comitting suicide for her to be free from him? You knew it was happening, and you didn't do jack shit to stop it."

"So that we make it."

"Why? So your imaginary rescue team can save you? No one is coming! There isn't any magical helicopters coming to rebuild the new world. This is it!"

She doesn't answer me, just takes the broken picture frame to hit me over my head.

I sit in a chair in Dr. Edwards room as he checks my healing process to my forehead. "You're healing quickly. Should be ready to jump back into it in a couple more days." He stands up and says, "Well, that should about do it."

"You told me the wrong medicine to give Dr. Trevitt. Was it because he was also a doctor?"

"Trevitt was an oncologist at St. Ignatius. I knew him. They would have kicked me out. Maybe Gorman, maybe he would have killed me. I didn't have a choice." I shake my head, disappointed in the man who could have been good.

Dr. Edwards continues, "When they arrested Christ, Peter denied being one of his disciples. He didn't have a choice. They would have crucified him, too."

Later that same day, the new person they bring in is Carol! Daryl's best friend. She's alive; which means others did survive the Prison.

[punkpoemprose]

December 3rd- Charmed

Universe: Modern Witch AU

Rating: T (Teen & Up- Kristoff cops a feel)

Length: Words 2164

Previous engagements with this universe here and here aren’t needed to enjoy this fic but are here if you enjoy it or want additional context!

Snow fell to the sidewalk outside of the Arendelle Sister’s Herb and Crystal Shop and through the glass storefront people could be seen rushing along with packages and shopping bags from the variety of small shops that made up the small business sector of the city, or as Anna liked to joke, hipster central. The hustle and bustle outside seemed like it was determined not to enter the shop for the last half hour of its operation for the season. It was a both welcome and bothersome respite from how it had been just shortly before.

Anna sighed as she stirred together a variety of herbs in the mortar and pestle before her. A flick of her wand and it would be doing itself and she could be doing something else, but when it came down to it she had nothing else to do and she couldn’t very well pull her wand out in the front of the shop where anyone could see. She thought that maybe that was why she’d been feeling so drained, it is having been weeks since she’d done something even slightly magical.

She angrily crushed and crunched the contents and lamented the fact that her inability to perform even a single spell or brew anything stronger than a cup of coffee wasn’t ending anytime soon. It was like it was when she was thirteen and her abilities first manifested, her parents, both of old bloodlines, but neither exhibiting any talent had chosen to prevent either of their daughters from performing magic, even the accidental.

“Conceal, don’t feel,” she muttered under her breathe before bashing stone into stone with so much force the energy radiated back up her arm and she was surprised that she hadn’t broken anything.

Elsa had always been better at keeping her powers under wraps. She was the responsible one and certainly the more talented one of the two. Spells that took Anna months to master took Elsa a few hours, and while Anna had never resented her sister for her aptitude, she was slightly jealous that Elsa had better control and never seemed to be as twitchy as Anna was when she couldn’t practice her craft.

Anna didn’t know why she’d agreed to spend the Holidays away from home. When she and Elsa were home together Anna could cast as many spells as she wanted, even if they were wholly unnecessary, but she lived for the moments where she could flick her wand and turn the Christmas lights on or when she could say a few words, expend a little energy and have dinner fix itself. Even the smallest tasks, when spell work was involved, pleased Anna greatly. Magic in the afternoons was her solace year round, and the Holiday season had been one of the few times in any given year that her parents had allowed her to practice at all.

This year however she’d barely done anything even slightly magical since Black Friday. It felt like bucking tradition, but she hadn’t had the time or energy to even pick up her wand when she came home from work most nights let alone cast a spell or brew up a potion. Some online article about the “Best 20 Bespoke Gifts that Won’t Break the Bank” had gone viral and with it and the top seated idea of individualized blended teas and expertly crafted custom perfumes had meant that from the beginning to the end of each day Anna, as the more approachable sister, had been working with customers while Elsa took care of stock and ran the register.

She heard the bell above the door tingle and it took all her strength not to tell whosoever had just entered the shop to beat it using a few choice words.

“I think it’s dead, you don’t have to keep hitting it.”

She smiled and looked towards the source of the voice, glad she hadn’t hollered on reflex.

Kristoff Bjorgman was forever teasing her, and justifiably so given the fact that he had expert knowledge of just how clumsy she could be.

When he crossed the room and pressed his cold nose into the crook of her neck she jumped, and he laughed in return, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

He was cold, she could feel the iciness of his skin and she felt annoyance toward her sister. He was half frozen to death because Elsa had asked him to brave the cold to pick up an order of dried wintergreen berries from the nearby docks and being the pragmatist that he was he’d decided to take the ten-minute walk both ways through the snow with the crate on a dolly instead of his truck to pick them up.

It was only a half mile to the small warehouse on the water that provided their shop with much of their stock and in the summer, Anna was known to take the walk herself. However, in the bitter cold of the city’s winter, particularly with the wind off the water, she couldn’t be paid enough to endure it. It didn’t help that she loathed the cold more than anything being a Summer and Autumn child through and through.

“So what are you making?” he asked as if he couldn’t notice the way he was stealing her heat.

Anna glanced to the contents of the vessel and flushed when she saw it was entirely powdered into a fine dust. She hadn’t been paying much attention to her work and had becoming a bit overzealous in her pounding and grinding in her annoyance. It was hardly the first time it happened and it was unlikely to be the last.

“It was going to be tea for your sister. You mentioned she liked peppermint and because she’s got all those exams coming in the spring I thought a mint blend might be nice… you know, soothing and mint helps promote information retention and…” she shook her head and sighed, “Well I’ll just have to try again tomorrow before we head up to your parents place.”

“Honestly she’d probably find a use for it as is, but if it makes you feel better to remake it I wouldn’t mind staying here after hours.”

She noted the way his tone deepened toward the end of the statement, his tone clearly implying that with Elsa already having left for the evening, he was incredibly interested in staying in the space with her. She almost made a comment about him having dipped into her stash of love potion but was stopped when he slipped his hands up the front of her shirt, resting his hands on the bare skin of her waist.

‘Kristoff!” she squealed, “Your hands are freezing!”

He chuckled at that and pulled them back out from the fabric, looking at her sheepishly as she stalked away from him and toward the door of the shop.

Anna flipped the sign in the window from Open to Close and twisted the deadbolt on the door before beckoning her boyfriend to follow her to the back of the shop which he did gladly and without the need of any verbal prompting.

She had a brilliant idea. He was behind her as she went into the back and picked up her satchel to rifle through its contents. He was going to take a while to warm up, even if she used… extreme and certainly not safe for work measures to heat him up, and given her recent laments about spending several more days away from home and unable to practice she figured that a warming spell was in order.

He watched as she tugged her journal from the bag and while he knew what it meant in a sense, he never quite knew what she was planning when it came to digging out a rune or spell or potion recipe. He was decidedly not magical in any way and as far as he knew his family wasn’t either. The only reason he knew about Anna’s abilities at all was because she had accidentally dosed him with a love potion the October before and he’d had the good fortune to fall in love with her under its influence to the point where once it had worn off completely he felt no different about her. The way he loved Anna was soft then, understated but powerful, and it had only grown stronger since. He was under her spell, but it wasn’t at all intentional. He was just in love with her, which was why he’d trust her not to kill him enough that he had no intentions to dissuade her from whatever it was she was searching for.

Anna flipped to a page she’d written down a few years prior, studied it for a moment, then turned to Kristoff and reached her hands out towards him. She’d always liked wandless magic best, so she was especially excited to cast the spell she’d remembered. She had a much faster way to shake the cold from him.

“Not that I’m going to say no in either case, nor am I going to ask you what it is that you’re about to do specifically, but is this something you know how to do or am I an experiment?”

She grinned at that. While he was her favorite and only guinea pig, she knew what she was doing, at least sort of.

“I promise this is an easy one. I do it all of the time!” she said omitting the fact she hadn’t attempted it on a person before but used it frequently to warm cooled coffee.

When she extended her hands to him again, he stepped close to her and relaxed when her hands went to his half-frozen ears.

He heard her whisper something, but with her covering his ears he couldn’t quite make out what it was that she had said. It didn’t particularly matter, as he was treated to the beautiful view of her concentrating. She was always cute when she was focused. She got a little crinkle in her nose and a twinkle in her eye. He could feel the warmth of her palms stealing the cold away from his ears, then his cheeks, his fingers and finally his toes. He supposed he should have known that it was what she was up to given how much she loathed the cold.

She went from focused to broadly smiling in less than a minute, looking at him with pride when he returned her grin.

“When we get to my folks’ place tomorrow you should do that again when I come back from finding a tree.”

Anna flushed, “I… Kristoff…”

He smiled and tucked his hands back up her shirt, noticing the blush already present on her cheeks and deciding to make it deeper.

“I’ll probably come back an ice cube, but how’s the song go?” he thought for a moment before slipping his hands up below the band of her bra.

“I’ve got my love to keep me warm” he sang softly, his lips near her ear.

Anna was melting under his touch, as she always did, but she had a feeling that the rush of euphoria she had after warming him was owing both to the way he’d smiled at her and to the relief she felt at finally letting go of a little of the pent-up energy she’d barely expended in over a month. It made her a little dizzy, heating him up took more energy than warming her coffee, but it had felt good to do. She supposed that if she had used her wand to focus her energy, she’d have used a bit less, but it didn’t matter, she’d been so pent up that the release had felt amazing.

“I can’t do it when I’m at your parent’s house,” she said, finding the words as he was busying himself with playing with the band of her sports bra, gently brushing his fingers against her skin as he did so.

“Why not?” he asked, “I keep it a secret for your sake baby, but no one will notice, and I know how you get if you can’t use at least a little magic. Even if they could figure it out, my family is so crazy about you already that they’d just accept it. Your secret would be safe with them too.”

She sighed and smiled at the thought, “You honestly wouldn’t care if they knew you were dating a witch?”

“I couldn’t care less, because I’m not dating ‘a witch’ I’m dating you and you’re pretty great.”

She giggled when he got tired of fiddling with the fabric and his hands slipped up to cup her breasts gently.

“These are pretty great.”

That got her really laughing and before she knew it he was kissing her and her legs were wrapped around his hips with his hands once again on her waist. She liked working late when he was there to keep her entertained.

[wackygoofball]

Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - Captain America AU

Note: After the Iron Man AU Moodboard was surprisingly well-received by you guys (I already thought it would bring the wrath of two fandoms merging upon me LOL), I went down that rabbit hole for more plot bunnies. So I wanted to do one that is more from Brienne’s perspective next, and that sent me down Captain America road. I know I hereby set myself as a Steve/Bucky shipper, even though the canon romances were assigned differently, but it is the relationship most heavily explored and has both at the same age across the different movies. Plus, you gotta give me that much: One blond Character A who is honorbound and brave past the point of sense who shares a significant relationship with Character B with GREAT hair whom A likes to banter with and trusts deeply, and also someone who also loses a limb in the course of the narrative, an arm no less. And no one else sees in Character B what Character A sees in B… the point is… I think JB work well for a Wackyfied version of Steve and Bucky in the Captain America franchise. But… enough of that, LOL. Let’s go down the MCU Rabbit Hole of No Return.

Brienne, formerly known as Captain Westeros, still has a hard time adjusting to the new age she now lives in, and that even though she is a relic from centuries ago, a super soldier who was put into cryostasis and now revived by a secret agency to aid them in defeating the same organization that took everything Brienne ever cared for away from her.

She came to care about the head of the organization, Davos Seaworth, and the young man who was assigned to her assistance, Podrick Payne. Even more so after they were there for her when Brienne had to bid Margaery Tyrell goodbye. She was the one person who lived long enough to see Brienne re-awaken, after Tyrion passed away while she was still asleep, even though Marge was an old lady by the time, a mirror image of her grandmother Olenna. Who could have guessed that Marge would turn out to be a founding member of the organization that now employs Brienne? It broke her heart to attend Margaery’s funeral, as it reminded Brienne of how her time should have been up the same way, long, long time ago. Marge at least lived her life. Pursued her career, helped create something she believed in, married, had children.

And what is there for Brienne other than service? Other than duty? Nothing much.

Back during the old days, Brienne made a choice and it predetermined her path all the way to here and now, and she doesn’t know what to make of all of this as of late. She doesn’t belong to this time, and she is not entirely sure whether she belongs to the agency at large, even though she has great faith in Davos and Pod. However, of that one thing she is certain: Brienne will bring down that organization that took so much away from her, even if it is the last thing on earth she does.

For him.

And so, she finds herself fighting bad guys along the way, back in her old, if updated, Captain Westeros suit alongside her shield which she named Oathkeeper. However, things take a sudden turn when she is up against a new, masked enemy with a metal arm destroying half the city. And to Brienne’s even greater shock, the man can handle catching her shield, something that normally no one can.  

Though that is only the beginning as the man turns out to be someone from her past.

“Jaime?!”

“Who the hell is Jaime?”

The man rushes off before Brienne can do as much as question him, but apparently, it is Jaime, the man she thought died in the mountains on the mission that changed her life forever.

“It was him. I know it. But how did he survive that fall?” Brienne questions once she reports back to the headquarters. “I thought he was dead.”

And she didn’t even get to hold him as he died.

“We have to find out what exactly happened,” Davos tells her. “Though I am afraid the man you knew may no longer be in there. For all it seems, the Faceless Men… changed him, erased everything from his memory to make him do what they want. He is their tool now, a very dangerous tool without mercy.”

“Doesn’t matter. I have to get him out of there,” Brienne insists. “I failed to protect him once, and I won’t repeat that mistake a second time.”

“The agency will demand of you to bring him down, I am afraid.”

“Then I suppose I am out. Sorry, Davos. I owe that man everything. So unless you can convince the officials to let me catch him alive, I will do just that without getting a permit. This is about a war hero, someone who was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for our country, to keep the peace. And if we don’t even try at the very least to get him alive and cure him, I don’t know what this agency is meant to stand for. Or rather, if that is the case, I know that I can’t stand for it. Because that isn’t just.”

With that, Brienne takes off. While she dedicated many years of her life to nothing but service to the government, there is one thing where she finds it has to stop, and that is Jaime Lannister.

Because, if not for him, Brienne doesn’t know where she would have ended up.

He saved her when no one else even so much as looked at her.

It was him, always only him.

Brienne met Jaime in a gym at King’s Landing what is now seventy years ago. She went there after the closing hours to get her head clear when she was yet again refused from active duty at the military. While they were fine offering her an administrative position, they refused to let Brienne enter the warzone like any other male soldier. And then she ran into a commander fallen from grace after Jaime killed Admiral Aerys Targaryen while on active duty. Though to her surprise, she found that the man was not at all what he seemed to be because Jaime was the first one to accept this ugly, mannish woman and understand her wish to serve as he shared just that sentiment.

“I joined even though my father had pulled threads to bypass the draft for me. I told him to fuck himself and enlisted on my own. Well, now I have to live off of the small fortune I have earned myself as a soldier, but the family wealth is gone for me. Though it’s worth it, I guess. The apartment is big enough for one person and I get to do what I want to do. Even if no one wants to see the honor of the act.”

It wasn’t until long that the two developed a deep friendship, though it was soon put to the test when Brienne received the devastating news that her home island Tarth had been bombed, in the process of which it was almost entirely destroyed. And no one, including her father, survived the vicious attack. Thus, she stood there without money, without a place to stay as her father had provided for all of it, and it was Jaime who instantly took her in, helped her arrange the funeral and held her hand as Admiral Selwyn Tarth was given the last honors.

Jaime was the first man who made her feel less lonely in this world, but her wish to join the military only ever gained power as Brienne wanted to avenge her father as well and bring those people to justice who bombed an entire island just for strategic gain. Her wish expanded off-limits when Jaime received the news that he was back in the draft as they could not afford to leave one of the most able men out of service against the odds of his reputation.

“Seems like I get a shot at earning my spot as a war hero after all, wench.”

After a dance that never happened and Jaime’s departure to the North to join the forces there, Brienne found herself soon approached by Jaime’s brother Tyrion, a scientist who also worked for the military, whom Jaime had tasked to “look after her,” though the dwarf had other intentions: He found a loophole that allowed Brienne to join active duty as he worked for the agency at a higher level than those who kept refusing her. For that, all Brienne had to do was to become his “guinea pig” as Tyrion meant to turn the tide in the war with genetically enhanced super soldiers to defeat the underlying threat of the Faceless Men who had successfully moved the chess pieces in such a way that countries went to war. All she had to do was sign a contract with the Special Forces, which is what Brienne did. The fact that the experiment turned her even more mannish and stronger than she was by nature didn’t matter much to her as Brienne was only driven by one idea: To finally get into the warzone and hopefully reunite with Jaime.

When the experimentation phase was over, Brienne was finally granted the privilege to put together a team, and she instantly wanted to enlist Jaime, only to find out that he had been taken by the Faceless Men. The generals gave her little hope that he had survived, but Brienne insisted on going anyway, and thus headed North with the rest of the team to where they suspected the hideout. And indeed, Jaime was alive by the time they got there, though the man was very much shocked to see Brienne after all this time.

“Wench?!”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were... not that tall last time I saw you. And you were a giantess already.”

“I should just leave you here.”

“Nah, you love me too much to leave me behind. Plus, honor compels you and all.”

With Jaime reunited, Brienne thought things were finally going right. She could fight by Jaime’s side and they were taking on the people who had staged the war that had cost them all so very much. It was like a dream, but that dream then turned nightmare when another mission in the North cost her everything all over: Jaime fell off a train, and to his death, which left Brienne completely devastated.

Government shut down the Special Forces team thereafter, deeming it too ineffective to end the Faceless Men, though Brienne didn’t care much about it by the time as the loss of Jaime consumed her.  

Things took a sudden turn in another direction when Brienne was approached by Margaery Tyrell, a young officer at the military who told her upon first meeting that she owed Brienne her career:

“If not for you, there never would have been women on active duty. And while I still like to recruit rather than get my hands on a gun, it is thanks to you that we have the chance to do it ever since, Captain.”

As it turned out, there was a secret effort by some officers, including Margaery, to revive the Special Forces to bring down the Faceless Men after they received some vital information about who were the people behind it, one name most prominent being Red Skull, an ominous figure somehow connected to a businessman named Jaqen H’ghar. Since Brienne had nothing much to lose, she enlisted and was given what Margaery called “an overall outfit upgrade.” And so, with new suit and shield made of Valyrian steel which Brienne named Oathkeeper in Jaime’s honor, they went on the hunt again.

They were very close to finally catching Red Skull as they figured out that he was the same man as Jaqen H’ghar in disguise, but the man was determined to see chaos spread, which is why Red Skull was willing to use remaining wildfire resources hidden underneath King’s Landing to blow up the city to blame the attack on opposite parties to keep the war running. Brienne managed to load the missiles on a jet and fly it into the Narrow Sea, even at the risk of her own life. After all, she had nothing to lose anymore.

She lost everything when Jaime fell to his death.

However, as it turned out, it wasn’t the end for Captain Westeros as Brienne opened her eyes again seventy years later, only to come face to face with the man she thought had died half a year before the decisive day that she crashed into the ocean.

Which means that there is something to lose again, or rather, something to gain again if she acts fast enough and makes sure Jaime doesn’t slip away from her another time, no matter the costs, no matter the sacrifice.

Now known as the Winter Commander, Jaime has become an integral member of the Faceless Men. Brienne has to learn that they did indeed rescue him after the fall, which Jaime barely survived, in order to erase all memory from Jaime’s mind and thus use him as a pawn to continue to spread chaos across the Seven Kingdoms and take out vital political figures to further the interest of the Faceless Men who have since profited from the ongoing wars.

They make their money with the dead after all.

Alone on her quest of catching Jaime alive, Brienne thus has to fight not just the agency she wants to defeat anyway, but also has to deal with the circumstance that she is considered a criminal now in the eyes of her government. However, Brienne won’t let that stop her.

This is not the end of the line for them just yet, she won’t let it be.

And so, Brienne hunts down the Winter Commander and under much, much effort, manages to overpower Jaime and bring him to a safe hideout, as Podrick still aids her in secret, an order Brienne knows comes from Davos, though he would not admit it as he is still running the agency. At first, Brienne fears that there is no way to bring him back, but as she keeps talking to Jaime, the memories seem to resurface at last:

“Jaime, do you remember me?”

“Your dad's name was Selwyn. You broke off the heels of a new pair of shoes one time to chase down a thief and the high heels were in the way.”

While Brienne is overjoyed that Jaime finally comes to remember her and their shared past, they are made painfully aware that even a safe hideout isn’t safe for them. They are both wanted targets, by government and Faceless Men alike, and both are eager to take them out – and have the resources to carry it out.

They have to continuously run away from either agency hunting them down as they try to find a way to ensure that Jaime won’t slip back into the Winter Commander persona. However, that is not the end of the struggle as Jaime remains convinced that he is past the point of being saved. Now that he remembers both the past and what he did while operating as the Winter Commander, he knows that he has done horrid deeds for the Faceless Men to keep the war running he once tried to prevent alongside Brienne. And to make matters worse, he has to realize soon enough that his corruption may well mean that of the woman he cares about so much as well. Because Brienne is an honorable person, past the point of sense at times, and to see her being framed as a villain, as a public enemy, tears Jaime apart even more than does all of this anyway. Which is why he, time and time again, suggests to Brienne to simply turn him over to her agency and let them end it, something that Brienne resolutely refuses.

“But I am dangerous. You have seen it, you have felt it. I am a monster.”

“Not to me. I knocked you into the dust before, remember? I can overpower you to this day, Jaime, nothing has changed about that ever since I took apart the guys who talked behind your back in my presence.”

“The Faceless Men messed with my brain. You can’t defeat that with muscle strength, wench, that’s the whole problem.”

“Then we just have to find a solution. The way we always did, the way we always do.”

While Jaime remains skeptical about the success of the mission, he finds himself joining Brienne on the quest for a solution. Thus, the two team up to find information on the Faceless Men to find those responsible who turned Jaime. If they manage to expose that conspiracy, they may clear his name and thus get means from the government to work on his healing rather than his erasure from the face of the earth.

And the closer they are forced to stand together in the face of the omnipresent danger all around, the two have to discover, or rather rediscover feelings that they have kept hidden for so many years, centuries in fact.

While the two find old feelings burning up even stronger than before, they struggle to dodge the bullets aimed at them from all sides. However, much worse trouble is ahead of them when agents from the Faceless Men are ordered to reset Jaime and turn him back into the submissive Winter Commander as they have the word combination it takes to make Jaime forget all about his life and only remember the mission the Faceless Men assign to him. And it may be that Brienne will lose Jaime another time, unless they find a way to defeat the Faceless Men, stop their schemes for another war they plan on, and make sure Jaime stays Jaime, just Jaime…

Additional Image Sources: Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Captain America: Civil War (2016).

[ezilyamuzed]

Deadly Sins

Summary: After years since your paths had crossed you find yourself face to face with the man who made you want to sin all over again.

Pairings: Dean x reader

Word count: 4841

Warnings: Smut. language, some angst/ fluff. Unprotected sex (wrap it up).

A/N: This is for @waywardbaby and @ain-t-bovvered 666 Follower Challenge, #7deadlysinschallenge. The prompt I chose is in bold: Keeping my mouth shut has been my greatest accomplishment today. I had originally started with picking the deadly sin of pride to base it off of, but then the others quickly integrated themselves. Thank you to @snffbeebee for being my guinea pig.  I apologize for any and all grammar mistakes now. Enjoy!

7 Deadly Sins:

1.       Wrath- Uncontrollable hatred towards others that have wronged you that lead towards the desire for vengeance.

2.       Pride- The preservation of oneself to be God like, disallowing others to reveal their weaknesses.

3.       Lust- Intense longing and desire towards someone in regards to sexual intimacy.

4.       Gluttony- Overconsumption or overindulgence where someone is unable to stop the craving.

5.       Envy- Resentful covetousness of people, things, and situations in which one desires for their own.

6.       Sloth- Absence of self-preservation innate tendencies, will just go along with the world without care towards their future or wellbeing.

7.       Greed- Obtaining something desired, no matter the costs or consequences.

 The world around you was full and vibrant as you sat alone in the corner of a run downed bar. Its worn and weathered appearance did not hinder its popularity being the only one within a 50 mile radius. The typical norm for a small town hidden away in mountain country, where the wildlife easily outnumbered the civilian population. The fact that everyone went on with their lives like there was nothing happening around them amused you. How easily it was to forget that people have been missing from their community. Lives that may have been lost, they were able to so easily ignore or even forget. That wasn’t you though. As soon as the missing person’s reports that increased in numbers rapidly in the last months fell into your hands, you knew there was a job to do and you sure as hell would get it done right.

Playing with the label on your beer bottle while going over tomorrow’s plans the hairs on your neck stood up sending goosebumps down your skin as you felt a presences coming nearer. You looked up to your side, ready to break the bottle over anything if you needed to. That is when you saw him. Your stomach immediately turning sick as your memories hit you. The same deep green eyes staring into yours that crinkled in the corners, letting you know he was carefully looking over you as well. Those perfect pink full lips that had learned every inch of your body, opening slightly as his tongue moved slowly to wet them. Dean Winchester, the demon disguised as an angel was moving towards you. The now fully grown man that had once rolled into your town for a hunt, taking interest in only you the preacher’s daughter. The man you took away your most precious virtue almost 15 years ago, before leaving you alone in the world. Even looking at him now, you could still feel your nerves coming undone. Your momma had always told you to beg for strength anytime you were about to commit a deadly sin, but that man made you want to sin again and again leaving you to beg for forgiveness later.

That had all been so long ago now, and living in sin was the only way you had survived after he left. You had moved on, at least tried to with anyone else you fell into bed with since then. Desperately trying to fill the hole that he had left. You told yourself that if you ever saw him again you would not let yourself fall for his devilish charm. The pride you had built in yourself all these years of being stronger than that was too important to throw away and be left broken once again.

“Hey there sweetheart,” he coyly smiled. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I already have one,” you managed to reply while trying to calm your nerves.

“I see that,” he said while settling himself next to you. “I’m Dean by the way.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as he introduced himself, dawning on you that while you could never forget his face he had clearly forgotten yours. This miracle of information made you thank Jesus that you could escape from grudging up the past with him, laying years of frustration and tears down on the table. This was your chance to leave before it was too late, and you had to take it. Your pride of not succumbing to that devilish charm once more pushing you up.

“And I don’t care,” you replied while throwing money down on the bar before moving yourself to walk away. You could feel his eyes watching you as you left while you were screaming to yourself to just breathe and not turn back. Never turn back to him.

After prepping anything you could possibly need for the hunt into the unknown in your bag you drove off to the coordinates marked on your map. Each disappearance had happened between a 10 mile radius right smack in the middle of nothing but trees and mountains. That was where you were going, in the middle of nowhere, just yourself to face whatever beast hid amongst the shadows.

Hours had past, as you followed the trails through the tall winding trees, wild shrubbery, and discarded dead pieces of it all. The sun that had followed you was now at your back when you came upon the entrance of a cavern. By the looks around it, someone had been there rather recently. You pulled out your pistol and flashlight, while taking a deep breath before your steps moved forward slowly inside. The darkness and quiet surrounded you as you had now moved so far in that the remaining sunlight behind you could no longer be found. Your light only showing you the rocks and stones piled neatly high along the walls to maintain its structure. The only noise that you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears. You reached a space that had three directions to choose from. Left, right, or back where you came from. Suddenly the sound of a stifled cough caught your attention to turn to the left, making the choice up for you. Walking further you carefully listened to hear a sound again. Nothing. You started to reconsider if you had even heard it at all until your followed the winding tunnel, the light of your flashlight hitting another.

“Whoa! Stop right there. Don’t shoot,” yelled a deep voice. You couldn’t see the source clearly as their light shinned into your eyes blinding you.

“Put your light down and step forward or I will,” you yelled back, now aiming in its direction, cocking the hammer back. The light lowered and you were able to focus on what was standing in front of you. Him. He was here standing right there with his hands up and vulnerable. You finger softly on your trigger considered revenge for all those years ago of being tossed to the side like you had been nothing. The wrath of a women scorned growing inside of you as you considered the release from his terror was in your hands pointing directly at his heart. Wrath, sin number 1.

You watched as his eyes and pupils grow, as you stood your ground still aiming at him. A loud growl grew behind you, making you quickly turn around to shoot, but not before the stone foundation came crumbling down pushing you down to your ass, trapping you inside.

You got up desperately from the floor with your light trying to get to the other side of the now wall of stone in front of you. Dean frantically following, trying to push them out of the way with you. As he was able to budge one from its place more from the ceiling came crumbling down towards you. He was able to push you out of the way in time, catching you on your ankle and not your head.

“God Dammit!” you cried as you laid in pain. You could hear his breath becoming heavier as he shinned the light looking to see if there was any way out around him.

“We’re trapped. Son of a bitch trapped us!” His deep voice raising, vibrating off of the stone tomb that now held you both. He flashed his light down to you, seeing you hold your ankle gently, wincing in pain while trying to get yourself up.

“Don’t try to move it,” he commanded.

“We need to get out now, I’m not going to just sit here like a god damn child and die!” you screamed while trying to bring yourself to your feet again. He moved quickly, grabbing your arm and around your waist to help you steady yourself. Shots of electricity in response to his touch ran through you but you shook them off. “Now let’s go.”

“Problem with that sweetheart,” he grumbled while flashing his light to the now barricaded entrance. “That was the only way out.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“Here come on. You should really get off that ankle,” he said while still holding you. He was still holding you carefully as you allowed yourself to sit yourself down, with you back against the wall. “My brother will find us. I’m sure of it.”

Your eyes rolled while remembering his brother, Sam. The little brother that wanted nothing to do with anything monster related, who only wanted to have the normal life he was never given or had a chance at. The kid who would have rather stay tucked away in books then to actually do the damn job right. That was the same kid your life now counted on.

“Yeah, well I won’t hold by breath,” you sarcastically replied.

“You’re that girl from the bar last night. The one who shot me down. What are you doing here anyways?”

“Shoe shopping. What does it look like?” you sneered.

“You a hunter?” he coaxed while setting himself across from you.

“Well look at the genius,” you scoffed, feeling the wrath in you continue to linger. The possibility of shooting him now out of the picture unless you wanted to sit in the dark, alone with a decomposing corpse. Whatever trapped you in here now was going to face your wrath, if you did ever get out.

Sitting in silence you considered all of your options, there was only two. One, keep your pride and ignore the lustful thoughts that lingered in your mind as you watched him sitting in front of you, lost in his own thoughts. Or two, throw it all away and take in the gluttonous desire that still burned inside of you for more of him. Although the second one sounded better, the first one would keep you safe. Keep your pride intact. Pride, sin number 2. Deciding on keeping your mouth shut while you remained trapped, he spoke up, interrupting your thoughts.

“So what’s your name and story sweetheart?”

“I might be stuck with you, but I don’t have to talk to you,” you sneered.

“Fine then I will talk. Like I said before my name is Dean. I’m an Aquarius. I like sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women.”

“I bet you do,” you commented with a low chuckle.

“Oh you know it’s a fun way to pass the time,” he smiled that damn devilish grin on his full lips that appeared by out of the corner of his light. “There’s the touching and feeling all of each other. Hands tracing every inch of her body. The two of us moving together, pressing, pulling, grinding, until you hit that sweet spot where everything just builds and builds until it all just…Boom.”

His words shuddered through your body to your now aching core. You could feel the lust growing inside of you to have it again. Sin number 3, lust. Even if you did give into it, it wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough, because you wanted all of him. Every moment of everyday, until the hole inside of you was satisfied and even after. Gluttony, sin number 4.

The years coursed through you mind as you thought of all of your attempts to find a substitution, while realizing he probably has done the same. Envy ruining through you of all the women who have had the pleasure of his electrifying touch consumed you. Hatred and loathing toward the faceless women in your mind. Envy, sin number 5. Your shuddered as you thought about how it felt again, his touch, a stifled groan escaping your lips while you took a deep breath in. If you didn’t die of starvation in here, your damn pride was going to kill you if he continued any further.

He let a low chuckle to the noise that had escaped your lips. “A fun way to pass the time.”

“In your dreams,” you muttered while shifting in your seat.

“Anyways, looks like we are going to be here a while,” he commented while flashing his light around the room. “So what do we do now?”

“We sit and silence and wait for whatever it is that trapped us to come back.”

“A wendigo,” he remarked. “Might be a while, they like to store up for winter.”

“Great…” you moaned. Just what you needed. It was a damn wendigo who was probably not coming back anytime soon. Anything else would get it all over with, at least giving you a fighting chance. Ugly bastards. The pain in your ankle was now radiating up your leg causing a stifled cry to escape from you.

“Here let me look at it,” he said while getting up to move to you.

“Its fine,” you grunted while he kneeled at your feet.

“It’s not. I can’t have you dying from a something stupid like broken bones and infections,” he replied while pushing your jean leg up.

He pulled out a knife and cut a slit up them to the knee so he could see clearer how far the damage went up. You steadied the flashlight on it to help him in his assessment. His callused hands sent lightning bolts up you as he touched your skin before working slowly to untie your boot. You let out another wince, this time not from the pain but from your nerves catching on fire.

“You okay?” he asked while looking to your face before moving any further. You gave him a nod before he continued now to removing your boot and sock underneath. He held your foot gently in his lap, making your heel set closely next to what you had longed for the last 15 years under his jeans. Your chest now quickly rising and falling as your breathing increased while his hands moved slowly across your skin. The pain from your leg now moving to your core that was slowly dripping as you watched his eyes examining every inch of you in his hands.

“Doesn’t look broken,” he announced while settling his hand carefully on your foot. “I think it’s just a sprain. We should wrap that up.”

You flashed the light over to your bag from his to see. He sat your leg down from his lap cautiously before moving to grab it. While using his own flashlight he rummaged through it to find anything that might work.

“Just dump it,” you groaned impatiently waiting for him to find something that would work that probably laid at the bottom. “It’s not like we have to keep this place all fancy.”

He followed your orders and empty the contents on the ground, using the flash light to guide his hands through. “Knife, lighter fluid, lighter, beef jerky, and a flask of what I am guessing is holy water?”

“At least we won’t die of dehydration,” you laughed while trying to reposition your now numb ass. Your comment made him let out a low chuckle before you spoke again. “What did you pack?”

He emptied his jacket pockets, pulling out a flare gun, lighter, and a large bag of peanut M&M’s. His lack of preparation would have normally made you furious at any other hunter, but with him, it made you chuckle that he was still the same silly boy you had fallen for.

“Well we are definitely prepared for a nice fire, if we had anything to burn and at least we won’t starve for a couple days,” you commented. “Nothing that will help us out of here though.”

Dean looked down at his chest before pulling off his jacket to reveal the two other layers hidden underneath. A signature plaid flannel overlain on a skin tight t-shirt that formed along his rippling muscles. He pulled the flannel off and folded it long ways while moving back to your injury. He slowly lifted your leg and worked to wrap it around to stable it.

“There, that should do it until we can find something better.”

A shiver ran down you as he sat it back down. He moved close to your side, hesitating before wrapping his arm around you to pull you close.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered.

You laughed at his words while shaking your head. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m just cold.”

He moved to pull you closer to warm your body against his, feeling the gluttonous lust inside of you growing as you whispered. “I’m hungry too.”

Letting out a chuckle, he reached for the jerky and M&M’s and sat them in his lap.

“Take your pick,” he said with a little snicker behind his voice.

Shaking your head toward the fact that you had not been talking about food you gave him a sly smirk. You reached over and grabbed the bag of jerky, your fingers brushing against the inside of his jeans accidently during the motion. You quickly tore into the bag, tossing the torn piece off to the side.

“Really just making yourself at home there huh,” he laughed while popping the candy into his mouth.

“Who cares about being messy in here?” you stated while scrunching up your face.

“Well as an occupant of this fine establishment, I do,” he laughed again.

“Guess I am just a bit of a slob,” you rolled your eyes. “Living in hotels and having someone always clean up after you will do that.”

“No home huh?” he mumbled with his mouth full now.

You snickered at the sight of his cheeks bulging with a little bit of chocolate drool running out the corner of his mouth while you shook your head.

“Not anymore. Not for a long time. Now I just sloth around towns, finding strange things to occupy my time.”

“Sounds lonely,” he replied quietly while wiping the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t care,” you commented while turning your face to his.

“You should. Everyone deserves to have someone.”

“Not me. I’m not important. I’m just…here.” Your words tasting like acid on your lips. For so long you just followed through the motions, not giving a damn about yourself or whatever possible future laid ahead. You had been too broken to care anymore, and now you were revealing one of your greatest sins that made everything just disappear. Sloth, sin number 6.

“My brother will come,” he whispered while giving you a squeeze. “I promise.”

“I doubt it. Sam wasn’t exactly the best tracker,” you blurted in a huff. You didn’t even realize you had said it until you could feel him pulling away from you.

“I never said…”

“That Sam is your brother,” you calmly answered. “Yeah, Dean I know. This isn’t our first rodeo.”

His face studied yours in disbelief that he could have missed it. Reaching to your face he traced the bottom of your lips with his thumb, his eyes squinting as he tried to find the answer he was searching for. Nestling your face in his hand, his face grew in amazement and surprise.

“Y/N.”

“You remember,” you whispered, still nuzzling into his palm.

“Why didn’t you...”

“Say anything? Would you have if you were me? It was a million years ago and you just left. I’ve been so angry at you. Honestly given everything that had happened so far keeping my mouth shut…it has been my greatest accomplishment today.”

“Yes I would have,” he calmly replied while moving to lay down next to you. He stared up to the cavern ceiling. “Everything about you, just seemed so…familiar even when I saw you sitting alone at the bar. Something inside me pushed to figure out why until I could find a reason. I wish I would have known sooner.”

“And why is that?”

He titled his head to meet your gaze, reaching to cup your face in his hands again.

“Because I never forgave myself. I left you, scared and alone. I wanted to stay but I…”

“Duty called.”

“The damn pride I had, living up to my father’s expectations instead of living the life that I wanted. Staying behind…with you,” he replied. “I had fallen for you back then. A normal life was the dream of a stupid kid though. I couldn’t bring you into all of this. Y/N, I had to forget you.”

Hearing his voice cracking as he finished his words, your eyes meet his and you could feel them pulling you closer with the words you had waited for long to hear. He had fallen for you too. The lust inside of you now turning quickly into greed. You wanted him, you wanted all of him. Fuck your damn pride or any other consequences. You didn’t even care anymore if it was just for this moment, you had to have him. Sin number 7, greed. You pushed your lips to his, which caught him by surprise. He pulled away and looked into your eyes, seeing the want burning inside of you. He placed his lips back onto yours at first slowly but growing harder as your head moved with the direction of his hands behind your neck. You tongue prodding his mouth open forcefully as you needed to fulfill the gluttonous hunger inside of you. He opened his and response, meeting your tongue with his as the shots of the familiar electricity ran through you.

He must have felt it too because he pulled his now swollen lips away and looked into your eyes while his chest raised and fell with each hard breath. You gave you a questioning look. Either asking if this was what you really wanted or doubting it in himself. Whatever his eyes were asking, you didn’t care. You needed him right now. All of him. You grabbed the back of his head, intertwining you fingers in his soft hair pulling him to now hover over you. His hand reached to grasp your waist, making you moan into his mouth. It slowly worked its way up your shirt, lingering around your stomach until he moved it softly further up to clench your cloth covered breast. Each movement sending shivers further and further down you, your womanhood now completely soaked.

He moved his lips to the bottom of yours shifting down to your chin, jaw line and finally resting along your neck right beneath your ear.

“Dean,” you moaned. “I need you.”

His hands now working harder and faster to push your shirt and bra off to reveal your heaving chest. His tongue now tracing circles as he worked his way down. He lingered above your nipple, allowing his breath to send chills to it before flicking it with his tongue. You moaned again which made him smile before his mouth now hungrily attached itself to you. His fingers rolling your other nipple in unison making your hips shift around. He moved to other to give it attention as you felt his hand grab your ass, giving it a tight squeeze as he pulled you closer to him. You let out a whine of pain, which made him stop in his tracks.

“Gentle there,” you purred as you leaned to his lips again while your hands moved to the bottom of his shirt. You could feel his stiffened muscles underneath you fingertips as you glided his shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly to the side. His hands went back to the buttons on your jeans, fumbling with them as he kept his lips locked with yours. You moved your hands to help him unbuttoning it easily before you reached to his to release him from his denim prison. The lust, the greed, your uncontrollable hunger all pushed your hands to move his jeans down his legs leaving him now hovering above you in his boxer briefs. Pushing himself off of you he shook his legs out and knelled down to you to carefully remove your jeans, cautious of you injured ankle leaving you in your soaked panties. Moving his head down, he placed gentle kisses on you as he made his way up to your inner thigh.

“God you smell amazing,” he whispered as his nose rubbed against the damp cloth. Shivers running down your spine as your felt his rough hands grabbing the sides of your panties, pulling it down in a quick motion. You moaned as you laid in your nakedness, not caring how vulnerable to him you were now. You wanted to scratch the itch that you’ve had for a long time now. You needed more now. You shifted your hips again while spreading your legs as wide as you could without moving your injured one. He watched you underneath him while biting his bottom lip before moving to places his lips softly onto your thigh, nuzzling them around until his lips met your slick folds. His tongue flicking your clit swiftly making you swarm uncontrollably as you felt the wave of pleasure move through you. Crashing his mouth down hard sucking in all your juices with his tongue moving wildly you came completely undone in his mouth.

“Jesus,” you moaned.

“Just me sweetheart,” he whispered as he moved his face back on to yours, your juices shining on his lips in the light. You wrapped your arms around him as you laid your back to the ground, pushing your fingertips into his skin urging him to move closer. His lips met yours again as he moved his hips to yours. Pulling down the waistband of his boxers he sprang out fully at attention as your hand reached to guide him to your core. Shifting forward more you felt his soft tip rub against your folds. The lustful hunger now aching throughout every muscle. He slowly pushed himself in to allow you to adjust to his girth, you shifted your hips again allowing him to push himself fully in until he reached that sweet spot. The emptiness inside of you grew in satisfaction as he moved his hips along with yours in a slow rhythmic motion. Every movement back and forth inside of you sent the electricity waves to bring on another burst of pleasure as his lips stayed with yours. Tasting your juices mixed with chocolate you never wanted to end. You would die happy just staying in this moment, just like this forever. His thrusts became harder and faster as the time escaped your mind, it could have been 10 minutes or 10 hours that you laid underneath him, gripping him tight as the sinful thoughts coursed through your mind. The sweat from his face now falling down on your own you could feel the powerful surge within you ready to burst again while feeling him start to pulsate inside of you. The two of you collectively groaned in unison as the floodgates fell sending you into a blissful pleasure.

“Better then I remembered,” he chuckled while moving to gather up the discarded clothes.

You laughed at his statement. “You didn’t even remember it in the first place.”

“Oh, I could never forgot that noise you make,” he smiled. He went to speak again but you both heard a loud cry from the other side of your barricade yelling for Dean.

“Sam!” He yelled back while quickly grabbing up his clothes and tossing you yours. He yelled for his brother again as the two of you rapidly redressed.

“Dean,” Sam yelled again, only his voice was much closer.

“Sam! The Wendigo is somewhere out there!”

“He’s gone Dean,” Sam yelled back. “Is there any other way out?”

“No we are stuck here Sam. Y/N is here, and she’s hurt.”

There was a long pause as Dean moved closer to listen for his brother again.

“I think I can move some of these so you can get through. Step back.”

Dean moved back to your side helping you gather yourself and belongings back up into your bag. Guiding you to your feet he put your arm around his neck.

“I never thought I would be so happy to hear that voice again,” you laughed.

“Told you he would find us.”

“Yeah, he could have waited a bit longer though,” you smirked. “Now it’s time to go before things can really get started. Duty calling you.”

“I’m not letting go this time. Never again,” he said while titling your face to his with his hand. “Finding you, Y/N, has been my greatest accomplishment today.”

My family: @curly-haired-disaster @snffbeebee @dean-winchesters-bacon @julesthequirky @waywardbaby @ain-t-bovvered @time-travel-bouqet @bobasheebaby @whimsicalrobots @imma-winchester-addict @anotherwaywardsister @missjenniferb @waywardnerd67 @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tromkehra @ladywinchester1967 @mrsnazario1223 @imafictosexual @thewoldiscolorful @myinconnelly1 

[thecloserkin]

fic rec (2/2): I Don’t Hear the Church Bells Chime Anymore Part by Noccalula (Part 1 is here)

They present themselves at the Hydra compound to volunteer as human guinea pigs. This is their last, best shot at taking down Tony Stark and his “imperialist death machine.”

Both of them were iron deficient, running light fevers, and dehydrated to the point that they were immediately given IV fluids. The first few weeks were nothing but antibiotics and lightning rounds of samples and examinations as the medical team worked to ensure that the twins were at least coming to a safe point to begin working on gaining weight and exercising; Pietro could not aptly put into words what it did for his heart to watch the sallowness in Wanda’s skin disappear, her eyes brighten again

almost makes you think their freedom a small price to pay for being restored to to peak health doesn’t it

but that autonomy had been the first thing they were informed that they would be signing over.  Wanda had reached down to lay her hand across her brother’s, which lay across her thigh, and gave it a soft squeeze before she put pen to paper and quite literally signed her life away before handing him the instruments to do the same.

have any of you guys ever signed a cell phone carrier contract? or bought anything online from any merchant at all? or opened any kind of bank or credit card account? nobody actually reads the fine print — maybe you’ve seen the video of the voice actor who was hired to read Amazon Kindle’s TOS front to back and it took him 8 hours — but how much of that autonomy that Pietro and Wanda value so much was illusory? Even if they’ve never had a cell phone? …. Sure, we’re free to sign these one-sided impenetrable legalese contracts or walk away, but how do you function as a person in the modern world without signing them? You don’t have to worry about affording a lawyer to decipher them for you, since most of them include mandatory arbitration clauses to prevent you getting your day in court, or god forbid bringing a class action suit against the corporation. There’s no overt coercion going on but it’s not much of a negotiation when one party is holding all the cards. In the previous chapter Pietro and Wanda observed that they didn’t have a choice, really, and here the “choice” to sign their rights away is a farce of freedom. Capitalism is fucking depressing let’s move on to a lighter subject aka sexytimes:

So many of the things that Pietro was dying to do were still logistically tricky but it didn’t stop him from whispering them to her in the dead of night, his lips against her ear or the back of her neck just like old times as she heaved soft sighs, her back pressed against his chest. If they were covert enough, sex could pass for spooning or cuddling when the nurses passed by, shining muted lights into the room to ensure no one had gone awol. Somehow, the thrill of possibly being caught and the shame of just how forbidden the act was became part of the appeal for Wanda.

This is my jam: Sex that passes for spooning? Yesssss. The thrill of being caught? Hell yes. The taboo heightening the hotness? Sign me the fuck up. Can you imagine how wet she got when he whispered all the things he wanted to do to her? And the herculean struggle to stay quiet, to not tip off the nurses, damn I need a shower.

So Wanda gets her period after five years of being too undernourished to get it and the way it happens is the two of them wake up in a pool of blood which ofc freaks them the fuck out THEN when Pietro starts lifting weights without a shirt on there are all these scratches on his back from Wanda’s nails and the doctor who is no one’s fool decides Wanda needs to go on birth control asap. THEN the experimentation begins in earnest and the they insist on separating the twins afterward — these are Herr Strucker’s instructions. Nobody, no other subjects so far, has survived the second round of treatments.

”Now, most of Mengele’s experiments on twins were utterly worthless,” Von Strucker continued … “Because he was not interested in science - he was interested in torture … But we, doctors, are not interested in torture, no. And we noticed very quickly that there was one thing that Mengele missed, His research suggested that twins were more likely to survive lethal experimentations for longer if they were reunited after a separation.”

This is sO cReEpy — no we are doctors we are not torturers we are doing this for SCIENCE ok. It’s little wonder Strucker didn’t miss a beat when the true nature of the twins’ intimacy came to light: he saw it as something he could use. Their soul-deep bond would give him the leverage to fashion them into the perfect weapons. And spoiler alert, they survive! Pietro zips around super fast! Wanda can read minds now!

Though Pietro posed the more immediate physical threat, everyone was markedly more afraid of Wanda. This was something Pietro was almost visibly proud of.

There is a very specific kind of competency porn where one member of your OTP is just bursting with pride at the other member of your OTP doing something superbly well and this is a prime example of that, this is Pietro Maximoff telling these bitches to fuck off because look at my sister she is a telepathic reality-warping witch. (I just rewatched Firefly and the scene in “Ariel” where Simon breaks character in the middle of a hospital heist to save a random patient’s life and River just looks at him is also a prime example of this trope.)

“Superheroes.” The word felt disgustingly capitalist on Wanda’s tongue.

I am crying haha because this is so true. Isn’t the superhero story par excellence about a human with extra-special abilities accomplishing extraordinary things rather than, say, a bunch of regular schmucks building collective power through solidarity? One of the things I love about this fic is the fact that the people who work for Hydra, from Strucker down to Doctor Bellato and Istvan, are none of them evil people. They commit evil deeds, to be sure, but they are working within a system which greatly constrains their array of choices.

They could run forever – he could run forever, with Wanda in his arms. But he knew there was still a growling, raging thing in the pit of his heart that lived in Wanda’s as well, and that thing would not know satisfaction until it knew justice.

This is a very good, succinct account of what drives the twins. Justice is what propels them forward day by day but it is also, I think, what drives them to be together in the romantic sense, because I am not sure if, in a universe where Sokovia remained at peace, the Maximoffs would turn to each other. I think the shared trauma was a necessary precondition to the incest. Fight me but that’s my reading of their characterization in this particular fic, not applicable generally, and god knows I haven’t read any of the comics.

Wanda and Pietro had carried nothing from the old life but one another and fistfuls of nightmares, scars that would never fade and wounds that would never heal save but for through one another.

There is a whole chapter that is like, just the two of them holing up in a hotel and screwing each other’s brains out. A well-deserved interlude, kids. (Well-deserved for me the reader as well, I hasten to add I thought it was a real treat.) There’s a mural erected by some of their erstwhile comrades from the anarchist commune, titled “Long Live the Maximoffs” because they are now apparently the face of the (failed? stalled?) revolution. You know, every time I read the twins’ internal monologue repeating that old “we came into this world together and we’ll leave it together” aphorism it’s like twisting a knife in my heart. Of course it never occurs to them only one of them will die, and the other will have to learn to live without him.

The ultimate betrayal of Wanda’s heart was that the damned thing continued to beat without him.

And there it is. Not to take anything away from Vision but Pietro was the love of her life, thanks for coming to my ted talk. Thanks for joining me in combing through one of my favorite fics of all time and enumerating all the 987654321 reasons I loved it, and thanks to @noccalula-writes for the gift of this brilliant story.

[confusedunit]

Soldier Enhancement Program: Subjects 76 and 24 [Chapter 1/2]

Jack joins when he's young, straight out of basic training. He knows why they're offering him the chance. He's a mediocre soldier at best and they're a dime a dozen, traul any college campus and they can get someone to replace him. He won't be missed. When they ask him, he signs the paperwork before they even start talking.

He's pretty sure they're happy when he leaves. He knows they can't stand his dead eyes.

-

He fills out all the paperwork they ask him to, once he gets there. Some of then are standard: where was he born, what was his home life like, who is his next of kin. He doesn't expect the ones he gets as they progress: would he feel more comfortable rooming with men, women, or neither? Did he feel safe in his last post? What are the qualities he looks for in a friend?

He gets two pages into a packet that seems to be about current and former relationship history before he finally asks what's going on. Last he checked he joined a secret military experiment, not a psychological one.

They tell him that they need to cover all factors for their project, to determine any concerns. He takes them at face value. He doesn't really care, either way. He signs all the paperwork they give him, and he walks out the door.

-

Those motherfuckers.

He's been in classes for days, and his bunkmate obviously hates him. Why the hell did they put the two of them together?

He knows why on his end, at least. Because Gabriel Reyes is beautiful, one of the most handsome men he's ever had the privilege to meet. He's everything Jack's ever dreamed of.

He just wishes the guy would stop looking at him with so much anger and disgust.

He shakes his head, grabbing a book before heading out of his room. If Gabriel wants to hate him, fine. He'll just avoid him. Might as well keep a senior member of the SEP happy for the day.

He leaves the room before Gabriel wakes, and only returns after he's fallen asleep. He eats when Gabriel isn't there, avoids the hallways the man seems to prefer.

He doesn't expect to last long in the program anyway.

-

He's going to die here.

He knew the program was dangerous, but he never knew how much. But when he was getting his first set of shots, he saw a glimpse of his paperwork. #76, it had said.

But there couldn't be more than 25 soldiers on base. Had that many died? No wonder they were getting people like him. They were desperate.

He doesn't cry out in pain, or writhe in the hospital bed like he hears the others do. He stays still, staring up at the ceiling, letting the pain run through him.

For a moment, he thinks he feels something. But it's been too long for him to recognise the emotion, and it flees before he can try.

-

Gabriel's been nicer. Sort of.

He's been helping Jack recover, at the very least. Making sure he eats. Helping him move around the room.

But the dead look in his eyes is one Jack is intimately familiar with. How many roommates has he had to watch die? To still give him new ones...isn't that cruel?

As soon as Jack is situated and recovering, Gabriel leaves. He understands. They aren't friends. Gabriel's just doing what's required.

Jack gives him his space, again.

-

He writes down everything he feels after the injections. Maybe that will help them not kill any more soldiers.

The eldest group of soldiers, Gabriel among their paltry sum, don't talk to the younger. So the ones that came after them do. And the picture that they paint is a nightmare.

By the time you feel sick, they say, you're already dying. There's nothing the doctors can do, they add, so don't bother going to the medics for help. It's just a waste of supplies.

He doesn't write that part down. He sticks to clinical information only. He figures that's for the best.

-

They have three weeks between sets of shots. They're given two at a time.

After the first two, there were three deaths. After the third and fourth, two more were lost.

Only the new recruits are getting the shots. There's something wrong with the fifth and sixth, rumor says, and they don't want to move further in the shots until the figure out the cause.

Ah, he thinks, now it makes sense. They're testing on more, faster, to try to locate the cause of death so they can preserve their actually skilled soldiers. Of course.

A week after the fourth shot, he feels ill. The pain hasn't receded as much as he expected, and his body feels...wrong.

He writes all of that down, a strange calm flowing over him. Maybe, if he's lucky, what they find from him can save people's lives. Can save Gabriel's life.

That would be worth it, to him.

-

It's three days to the fifth and sixth shots when they finally have a fight. Gabriel won't stop pushing, trying to get Jack to tell him anything about himself.

Jack finally snaps. "Back off!"

"What's your problem?"

"Mine? You're the one who's been being a prick!"

Gabtiel growls. "You're avoiding me!"

"Yeah, because you seem miserable enough without having to deal with the guy you obviously hate!"

"What the fuck are you-"

"Besides, the next set is the one that kills everyone, right? A 99 percent kill rate, isn't it? So what the fuck are you trying to get close to me for?" He feels his blood boiling under his skin, and it doesn't help the ill feeling he's had for weeks now. "Why bother now if I'm just gonna die anyway?"

He snarls. "How can you say that so fucking matter of fact? How can you be resigned to it??"

"Because I didn't expect to survive, Reyes!" He shouts, puncuating his words with a fist against the wall. "I never did! So quit trying to get close, and save yourself the trouble of having to remember a useless guinea pig!"

Gabriel stares at him, a mix of anger and horror on his face.

Jack roughly sits down on his bed, slumping over on his side and looking away. "...Just...just go."

There's quiet for a long while, before heavy footsteps stomp out of the room. The door slams behind them.

He doesn't see Gabriel again until after the shots. He wakes up in pain, crying out as he tries to figure out which way is up. He feels gentle hands on his arms, and hears the soft murmur of Spanish.

He drifts back to sleep.

-

Today is the day.

He can tell. The pain hasn't gotten better, it's just gotten worse. He can barely eat. Five others have already died from this set alone.

Gabriel had looked at him from the door earlier, concern in his eyes. Jack had told him to go eat with his friends. He'd even smiled and told him he was fine, slumping once the man had left.

He feels that's the kindest thing he could have done. He doesn't need to watch Jack die. He's suffered enough.

He writes until it hurts too much to do so, panic finally rising. He's going to die. He's going to die, in pain and alone, and there's nothing that he can do.

He throws himself off the bed, barely containing a scream as he hits the ground. He crawls desperately to the bathroom. He's too hot, and as soon as he collapses on the tile floor he cries out in relief. But the feeling quickly fades, the tile warming under his skin.

He doesn't know how long he lies there, body losing feeling. He can't move. He can't talk. He can barely even breathe. He slowly blinks away tears, hoping that he'll at least pass out before his body suffocates him.

The door to their shared space slams open. "Jack!"

Shit. Why is he back? If he's so concerned...someone else must have died. Goddamnit.

He hears footsteps rush into their shared bedroom, before a keening noise echoes from it. "Jack!!"

He must have found the book, Jack decides. At least that will help...

"Jack, please- fuck- please, where are you?"

He wishes he could respond. He's afraid.

The footsteps leading into the room startle him, but he can't flinch.

"Jack!" Gabriel collapses next to him. "Please, please please-" He lets out a breath when he feels Jack's pulse. "Dios mio, Jack, can you hear me?"

He abrubtly realizes that Gabriel's never called him 'Jack' before.

"Jack- okay, fuck, he mentioned this- blink twice if you can hear me."

A pause.

"Thank fuck- Can you move? Blink three times for no."

A pause.

"Okay, I'm going to pick you up- I know, it's going to hurt, but you're dying Jack. I have to take you to the doctor for them to help you." He quickly, but as gently as possible, picks him up. "I know- hang on, okay? I need you to hang on."

A pause.

"...Jack?"

-

Jack wakes up in the med bay, screaming.

Hands hold him down, and he hears a soft voice speaking to him. He quiets, slowly opening his eyes.

Gabriel looks back at him, breathing rough. "Jack. You back?"

"Gabriel." His voice cracks, and he flinches. "Where..."

"Medbay. Fuck, Jack...you almost didn't make it."

He feels like he's made of mud. "...What?"

"Do you remember where I found you?"

"...Bathroom."

"Right. You were dying. I got you here just in time." He moves his hands down to hold Jack's. "Why didn't you tell me? I read your book, Jack. Why did you hide it?"

"The...recruits after you. They said...once you're sick, it's already...too late." He wheezes. "Said seeing the medics...was a waste of supplies."

"That's what we heard. Fuck...so many people died because they didn't know to get help..." He gently cups Jack's face. "...You're one of three that made it, this round."

His eyes widen. "Everyone else...is dead...?"

"Who you came in with? ...Yeah."

He's quiet, staring off.

"...Get some more rest, okay?"

"You'll come back...?"

"Of course, Jackie. I'll come back."

-

Three days later, Jack's shaking again.

Gabriel climbs into his cot, pulling him into his arms. "Hey, it's okay. They're getting you through it. I know you're cold, but I've got you. Your nerves are rewiring themselves. I went through this too. The fact that you're feeling this is a good sign. I know that's hard to believe, but..."

Jack tries to rest against him. "...did I ever tell you about my family?" His voice is strained.

"...No, Jack." He runs his hands through Jack's hair. "You haven't. What about your family?"

"Mom joined the service at the beginning of the Crisis."

"So, you joined to work alongside her?"

He shakes his head. "She was killed."

"Oh, Jack..."

"Wanted to make up for what was lost. Thought maybe...I could do what she had wanted to."

"What about your father?"

"Helped shelter two scared omnic runaways. Neighbors called him a traitor and set the barn on fire. None of them survived."

"Jack..."

"I...I'm scared, Reyes." His trembling picks up. "...Will I see them again?"

"Jack-" Gabriel holds him close. "You will, I promise you will. But not now. Not yet. You- you can't."

"Reyes..."

"You can't!" His voice cracks, as he presses his face to Jack's hair. "You can't..."

"You don't even know me..." A rough blow, but Jack doesn't mean it to be.

"You wouldn't let me." His voice is quiet.

"I...thought it would be better. For you."

"...What if I wanted to?"

"Huh...?" He looks up, fever clouding his eyes.

"What if I want to get to know you?"

"Reyes...I...I can't..."

"Please try. Please." He takes a shaky breath. "Please..."

Jack stares for a minute longer, before he slowly nods. "...Okay. I...I'll try..."

"Thank you, Jack." Gabriel hugs him close. "Thank you..."

-

Jack yawns, stretching his arms before curling them to his chest again.

The man behind him mumbles softly, draping an arm back over him, hand resting against I'm his own.

He smiles. "Mornin', Gabe."

Gabriel mumbles in response, pulling him close.

It's been a month and a half since Jack almost died. It had been touch and go, and he'd had to be resuscitated several times, but he was here. Alive.

They've talked. About favourite colors (how Jack prefers blue, like the ocean, while Gabriel likes orange because of pumpkins), where they grew up (an even split of Bloomington and South Bend for Jack, Sacramento before his family moved to LA for Gabriel), personal guilty pleasures (Jack's love for fairy tales, and Gabriel's love of theatre)...

They feel safe together. They hear people's whispers, of course. The ones saying that they're moving too fast.

Jack shivers. He almost wasn't fast enough. Sure, they've kissed a lot earlier than others might. And one could argue that just over a month of really getting to know someone isn't long enough to form an intimate connection. But Jack's never felt so safe, so secure, in his life.

Gabriel kisses the back of Jack's neck. "You're thinking too loud."

"Sorry." He rolls over, looking up at him with a small smile.

"Your smile's pretty." He slurs, still on the edge of sleep. "You know where it'd look prettier?"

"Gabe..."

"On mine." He grins.

He chuckles. "You're such a sap."

"You love it." He leans forward, resting his forehead against Jack's.

"I do. And I love you."

"Love you too, Jackie."

As Gabriel finally finishes leaning forward and kisses him, Jack's never felt more alive.