#or ignore it and pick someone else to be her mentor

[leoruby-draws]

Decided to post some art of Lori Zechlin, aka Black Alice!

She's the magic member of the lil Outlaws and probably their most mischievous member. She just likes having fun, its not her fault nobody else sees how funny she is! She's kinda the baby of the group (she's the youngest member btw) so she gets a little leeway but sometimes the team lose their patience with her.

Due to her extremely impish nature, the other kids sometimes consider her to be a bit of a brat. But they can't deny how OP her powers can be (when it works tho, lol). Her powers, by the way, to steal the magic from other magical users. For only a short time, and sometimes she picks up the wrong magic accidently, she's still new to all this!

Her story is a bit different to canon tho some similarities remain. One day her powers start to appear, Lori starts to have fun with all the random powers she gets. All the trouble she causes grabs the attention of the newly formed Birds of Prey, and so Barbara takes her under her wing. To try to help Lori with her magic (maybe she tries to find magic mentors for her) and protect her, as some bad people have taken notice of someone siphoning the magical powers of others for short bursts of time.

I'm not sure if Lori's mother is already dead, or if I should have her die at some point. I probably should, since her death is an important part of Lori's character.

Its possible Barbara asked Jason if she could join his group of friends, so that Lori won't feel too lonely. Also Lori is kinda exhausting to deal with, what with all her pranks and magical induced chaos. Jason felt that he and Lori were pretty similar in a lot of ways, he identified real hard with her backstory. So he invites her to the team, plus he finds her pranks funny as hell (unless they involved him ofc lol).

Of the team she probably gets along best with Eddie, Courtney, and Owen, Gillian and Jason find her funny as well. Rose and Toni finds her annoying, one of the few things they agree on.

Here's some drawings of Lori causing trouble all over the DC universe!

She's such a trouble maker! Barbara has a hard time trying to smooth relations with all the magic users.

Here's her hanging out a younger Night Force, maybe this is a sorta club made to help young magicians control their powers. Lori btw is stealing Tim Hunter's powers atm. Might be too early for Eddie to join, since his powers haven't come in but I wanted him to have 'fun' here too!

Here's Barbara being completely done with all this, looks like Zinda is having some fun with all this. Btw, I'm not sure if I'm keeping the plotpoint of Lori and Charlotte being secret sisters, that felt really random and I'm not sure is even compatible with their backstories? Imma just ignore that, they still find each other annoying tho!

Here's a little bonus doodle of Lori causing a bit of chaos, Rose and Jason are shocked!!

Anyways, hope you liked all that!

BUT WAIT!!! Here's a little bonus bonus doodle, an unfinished comic:

How Jason meets Lori! Its unfinished since I'm having trouble with figuring out what comes next, but when I do figure it out, I'll give it its own post.

Ok now I'm done haha!

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[rebouks]

She knew-.. Robin was sure of it.

Despite her warmth, he’d always been slightly unnerved by aunt Alma’s presence; there was something odd about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some people were harder to read than others, like Alex, but it was still possible.

Alma’s mind was like an impenetrable vault in comparison. Any attempts to feel or hear anything she did were met with a metaphorical brick wall, leaving him reeling as though he’d collided with it head first-.. but not tonight. Tonight, Alma was like an open book, and Robin was convinced she was doing it on purpose.

She’d told him all about her struggles as a child; how she didn’t fit in, how people teased her for being too sensitive, how hard it was to figure out who she was amongst the clamour of everyone else’s inner most image of themselves-.. all the while allowing him unlimited access to those very memories, like a handpicked blooper reel, just for him. Of course, that wasn’t the case though.. was it?

Alma had stopped talking now, but Robin still wasn’t sure how to react. He sat in silence instead, staring at nothing in particular for far longer than what could be considered normal.

“Can you hear me?” he thought, deciding to try a little experiment.

Nothing. Okay, so she couldn’t read his mind-.. then what the heck was she getting at? How had she so succinctly summed up his entire existence in less than fifteen minutes?

“I would’ve liked somewhere as quiet as this when I was young, it’s a shame we didn’t have an attic…” Alma offered, clearly trying to relate to Robin’s situation in any way she could. He still wasn’t entirely sure why, but she clearly wanted to help, and Robin didn’t know anyone else who understood him as well as she did, so perhaps he ought to let her try. He finally abandoned his switch and cautiously joined her atop his favourite, motheaten couch.

“What’re you getting at?” he said bluntly, curiosity getting the better of his manners. Alma chuckled softly, “You’re just like your father.” “It’s genetics, apparently…” Robin let loose a brief grin, glad to be compared to Oscar.

“I don’t know how exactly, but you’re different, Robin-.. and I thought it high time you knew you weren’t alone, and that we can’t let these things get the best of us.” Alma smiled softly as she spoke, but Robin was still too wary to be completely transparent. “We?” he asked, dubiously. “We’re few and far between, but you’re certainly not the only one who’s a little.. special, shall we say? That’s better than different, maybe?” Alma suggested.

Robin hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head, “Special is just another word for different, or weird.” Alma scoffed playfully, “And what’s wrong with being weird? I’m weird-.. we’re all a bit weird!”

“How’re you weird?” Robin asked, squinting at Alma accusingly. “Well, I can sense things I certainly shouldn’t be able to.” Alma started, excited to be getting somewhere. “Emotions radiate from people like a space heater-.. they’re not always pleasant, of course, but I can soak them up if I want to.”

Robin blinked, “Only if you want to..?” “Uh-huh.” Alma nodded. “You can block it out?!” Robin spluttered, suddenly and completely forgetting to maintain his ignorance before swiftly correcting himself. “I mean-.. it sounds like you can pick and choose, right?”

Alma nodded once more, “It wasn’t easy, but I spent a lot of years practicing.” “Years?” Robin sounded crestfallen. “I didn’t have a mentor…” Alma winked.

Robin allowed himself to smirk, figuring he might as well drop at least part of the act at this point. He was still a little nervous about being approached about such things so brazenly, but at least he knew why Alma perturbed him so much now, she was blocking him out on purpose-.. and she couldn’t read his mind either, which was always a plus.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he possessed that particular ability. Who’d want to hang out with someone who could access their inner most thoughts, the one’s they’d never dream of saying out loud? He shuddered involuntarily, hoping he’d never meet anyone that could read his.

Clementine finally nudged Robin, dragging him back to the present with her ghostly touch. “She looked right at me just then-.. she smiled! Did you see?” Robin spun around, realising that Alma had almost begun her descent. He must’ve missed her goodbye. “Wait!”

Alma paused expectantly, causing Robin to second guess himself and retreat into silence. “I won’t be far, sweetheart-.. whenever you’re ready.” Robin shivered as Clementine poked him again, “She can definitely see me…” “Can you, uh-…”

“See the ghost poking you?” Alma giggled, sounding far younger than she was. The vault doors had snapped shut again by now, but Robin got the impression that aunt Alma was just as excited as he was to find someone else who was weird. “Can you hear her?”

“Maybe-.. though I’m quite sure she hasn’t said anything yet.” Alma peered at Clementine expectantly. “Hey!” Clementine exclaimed as Robin tried to shove her into action, his hand ending up halfway through her waist instead.

“What? It’s not like you can feel it.” Robin snorted. Alma laughed heartily, thoroughly amused. “Well, I heard that-.. you two are good friends, huh?”

Robin nodded slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I thought I was the only one who could see her-.. that maybe I was going insane…” “Far from it, honey! You hit me up whenever you feel like it, okay?”

Previous // Next

[itadorey]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: childe x reader summary: in which you, the late signora's apprentice, have been assigned to take over one of the two empty harbinger roles, and childe can't help but worry about you. or alternatively, childe tries to rizz you up in the middle of la signora's funeral. wc: ~1.6k notes: more of a character study based on the "a winter night's lazzo" trailer. reader has a vision but it's only mentioned briefly.

the air is almost stifling as you look around, trying to ignore the mournful tune coming out of columbina's mouth.

the silvery metal of the coffin at the head of the room catches the light every so often, glinting just enough to catch your eye no matter how hard you try to keep your gaze elsewhere. it seems to mock, you, a reminder of the mentor who taught you so much yet told you so little. you don't miss her, of course you don't. from the very beginning, you knew you were merely another pawn for her to use; someone who she thought was talented, but ultimately disposable. that thought alone makes you feel some kind of morbid pride when you realize that you've managed to replace her.

a low hum comes from beside you, and you refuse to turn when you feel a certain redheaded harbinger lean in closer to you, nudging you with his elbow as he did so. childe lets out a small, frustrated huff when you refuse to meet his gaze, choosing instead to tilt his head down towards you. you can feel his hair brushing against your cheek and breath tickling the shell of your ear, an annoyance so great you finally break and face him, ready to tell him off. pulcinella starts speaking before you can do so.

"we are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade. in honor of her sacrifice, all work should halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

your gaze is immediately drawn away from childe and towards pulcinella, your fingers twitching at his words. the action doesn't go unnoticed by childe, and he reaches over to grab your hand, pouting when you scowl and scoot away. his attention is quickly brought back to the rest of the harbingers, and he can't help but roll his eyes as someone else begins to speak.

"merely half a day?" pantalone says, chuckling lightly as he repeats pulcinella's words. you can't help the shiver that runs down your spine; pantalone's voice alone is enough to instill caution into you. "people may say that the northland bank's rue currencies are blood and tears, but mayor, even speaking as a banker that sounds a little unconscionable."

childe can't help but stare at you, watching as you nod your head absentmindedly. he's interested in your lack of emotion. sure, you're agreeing with pantalone's statement, but nothing about your demeanor suggests that you're actually upset about la signora's demise. you're just bothered with the lack of respect being given to a fallen comrade. a part of him is annoyed, all his delusions about comforting you in your time of grief dissipating in that very moment. another part of him is impressed; he can't deny that the tsaritsa really does know how to pick her harbingers.

"rosalyne died in a foreign land," arlecchino's voice is loud enough to drown out columbina's singing. "but you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always with a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland. you couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouths shut! we don't want to make the children cry."

there's an almost unnoticeable exchange between you and arlecchino, the two of you nodding at each other before looking away. childe's eyes don't leave your face as you sigh softly, directing one last glance at the coffin before turning your head to the side.

"hey, c'mon now," childe says, his tone a little too bright for the current situation. "even i don't think this is the right time or place for a fight."

there's a brief second in which you whip your head around to meet his eyes, mild surprise visible as you process his words. childe finds himself wondering why he spoke. (he tells himself that it's to respect la signora's memory).

"utterly risible," sandrone says. you can't help but roll your eyes, glaring at her as you try to figure out who her words were aimed at. childe frowns when he notices your attention is no longer on him, and he chooses to burrow into his scarf as he scoots closer to you. he blames it on the cold.

the conversation turns to scaramouche, and you tune out capitano and dottore as they speak. you couldn't care less about the missing harbinger; sooner or later you would catch up to him and take back what the tsaritsa wanted. columbina's singing seems to get louder, almost taunting you as you do your best to avoid looking at the coffin. you're reminded of the day you were called into the tsaritsa's audience room, her hand colder than the snezhnayan snow as she rested it on your shoulder and told you that you would be taking the place of one of the two former harbingers.

"rosalyne would be proud," the tsaritsa had said. "you should feel honored."

your fingers trace the outline of your delusion, catching on the ridges of the gilded metal that keep the gem in place. you know it's almost identical to a vision, but the gifted delusion feels much, much heavier. you think you're going crazy.

childe nudges your knee with his, drawing you out of your thoughts. you look over at him, an amused smile on your face as you notice him snuggling into his scarf. he's closer than he was earlier, you realize, his outer thigh pressed up right against yours. you pretend not to notice, instead relaxing your posture and allowing your leg to fully rest against his. you blame it on the cold.

a soft gasp leaves your lips when childe grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before pulling you off the bench you had been sitting on. you glance around, watching as all the harbingers approach rosalyne's coffin and take their respective places around it. you stare at your hand, still intertwined with childe's, before you glance up, being met with an infuriating smirk. you huff as he pulls you to his side, grip tightening slightly to make sure you stay in place beside him.

"let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and with this nation endure for all time," pierro's words catch your attention, childe's hold momentarily forgotten as you stare at the first of the harbingers. "in the name of her majesty, the tsaritsa, we will seize authority form the gods. absolute peace; such is the gift from the tsaritsa, such is her majesty's benevolence. now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice."

pierro pauses to stare down at the coffin, and you find yourself absentmindedly placing your free hand upon the cool metal. there's a slight shake to your hand that makes your brow furrow, unsure as to why. you're not scared, and the nervousness you feel is not nearly great enough for you to be shaking. your muddled reflection stares back at you as you keep trying to discern your emotions, and you're only brought out of your pensive state when you feel childe squeeze your hand. you glance up to meet pierro's icy gaze head-on.

"but rosalyne, i promise you, your final resting place will be the entirety of the 'old world'," pierro finishes, speaking his final words without looking away from you. there's a tense silence that follows, each of the harbingers waiting to hear your response. you glance down briefly, your previously shaky hand having gone still in the time it took pierro to speak. you feel childe fidget, your silence dragging on as a miniscule smile appears on your face. you drag your gaze up to give pierro a firm nod, receiving one in return before he turns and walks out of the room. pulcinella and pantalone are quick to follow, the latter shooting you a curious glance and letting out a low hum before disappearing.

"well, well," childe starts. "shall we go get some food and celebrate?"

at your confused glance, childe simply smiles. "you were so nervous you were shaking! but don't worry, you've proven yourself."

you pull your hand out of his grasp when he begins to walk, your face feeling warm as you realized you had been holding hands the entire time. "no thanks, i have things to do."

childe's eyes follow you as you stalk towards the door, an eyebrow raising when you pause at the exit and turn to face him once more. "and i wasn't nervous!"

"no?" childe immediately responds, a flirty lilt present in his voice as he crosses his arms. "then why were you shaking?"

"because," you start, a dangerous grin spreading across your face. you've finally figured out what you were feeling earlier. "i realized that being a harbinger doesn't make me nervous. it makes me excited."

childe huffs out a laugh as you finally leave, shaking his head in amusement before he runs a hand through his hair. he's left staring at the door until he hears arlecchino's muffled snort, and he turns to her with a warm face as he realizes that she'd heard your entire exchange.

"you don't stand a chance," she says, making her way to the exit as well. "but it'll be fun to see you try."

"fun indeed," childe mutters, glancing at rosalyne's coffin one last time. with a soft laugh, he places his hands into his coat pocket, trudging towards the door and already missing the warmth you had been providing not even ten minutes prior. "this'll be interesting."

rbs are appreciated <3

[media-thots]

Finished season 3 of The Bear. This season felt harder, and I don’t mean that as a criticism, but I think that was a feeling the showrunner wanted the audience to be left with and it was achieved, at least for me. 

Carm blew up his life at the end of season 2 and this season is the repercussions of that, how it affects him personally and how it affects his team around him. This is the most tense Carm’s and Syd’s relationship has ever been, he and Richie can’t speak to each other without actual hurt underpinning it, and Carm has barely been a mentor to the rest of the chefs like he has been in the past. The whole season we’ve been shown how Carm’s past is on his mind and how what was sown in his past is growing now, how his experience at the Empire with that asshole chef is dragging him down now, how he is unfortunately emulating that horrible chef with his own team. For Carm, it has been a season of reflection on his past and a slow reconsidering of what he wants, what he dreams of. Cooking is his thing, it’s something that let him connect to Michael and it's something that helped Carm distinguish himself as someone truly skilled and talented, but as noticed last season, he also seems to seek these high-level kitchens because it gives him a rush of stress that feels normal to him because of what his childhood was like. But also last season Carm got to discover peace and love with Claire, he got to see a calmer life outside of that high-level stress and he liked it. When Claire understandably left, Carm couldn’t deal with it so he went back to what he knew, intense perfection that causes high stress. He can’t think about anything else because he has to think about getting that star and the only way he knows how to get a star is to replicate the environment at the Empire, under that asshole. By the end of the season, with the Ever shutting down and his old mentor readjusting her priorities, Carm has reached the point of his reflection where I think he’s reached an inner crossroads; does he choose a path of peace, represented by Claire, or does he choose a path of intense perfectionist stress, represented by the asshole. And in a way, I think whichever path he picks also represents the type of person Carm would evolve into. 

However, Carm has spent so much time inward, that he’s been blind to his business partner and friend, Sydney. She’s fully aware that he’s going through it, and she’s not his therapist so she’s not opening that Pandora's box of trauma, especially considering she’s got her own shit to deal with, but Carm isn’t seeing how this affects her. Last season, they had a set menu that was both of theirs but now the menu belongs to Carm only and it changes daily, if Sydney tries to set it even within his bounds Carm ignores it. The restaurant was supposed to be both of theirs, but from the initial reviews that Syd was looking at, even she can tell everyone is considering this project as purely Carm’s, and that hurts because it’s like she’s invisible to the larger cooking world when this was supposed to be her introduction. And she doesn't even get the work environment she wanted. It seems like most nights, Carm isn’t speaking to his team respectfully (often being an asshole) and Syd can occasionally reign him back in but she’s not his babysitter, he’s putting more work on her plate by losing control of his emotions. We saw how during the party at her place, Syd has a panic attack similar to how the asshole caused panic attacks for Carm, being at The Bear isn’t good for her. Carm is so focused on his trauma, that he can’t see that he’s making an unfulfilling if not outright awful working environment for her, it’s not even on his radar that Syd might want to leave, and it’s going to bite him in the ass no matter what Syd decides to do. 

I think this season was so hard because they actually took their time to depict what stress, depression, and trauma can do to a person and their relationships after a blow-up-your-life moment like Carm had. And even with all that, Carm had to go through that this season, I don’t think he’s going to be a perfect person at the start of next season, but he imploded in on himself and exploded at everyone else that opening night, it was going to take time to recover back to a semblance of the person he was and try to heal toward becoming a better one. It would be nice if Carm had paid more attention to Syd and tried to mend his relationship to Richie, but if he’d done that in the first couple episodes then that night would have had no impact. Carm needed to be awful, and sour, and a general asshole or it would’ve meant nothing, and now the growth he will hopefully be on will mean something. As hard as it was, this season was good.

[heliads]

I recently re-read the hunger games trilogy, so can you write a katniss fic with a fem!reader being secretly haymitch's daughter?? nothing much, just the two of them spending time together, hunting or spending some quality time together, ignoring the capitol, the world and individual problems to enjoy the hours they have together

please let me write for thg i love this request

masterlist

It is a terrible thing to be a Victor. Most people only look surface level, choosing to focus on the gilded trappings and gaudy praise the Capitol heaps upon you. Beneath the facade, living with the memories of what you’ve done is far harder than finding a way to burn through all the money they give you for killing twenty-three other children while all the world watches on. The price of blood was always worse than the price of gold, anyway.

You’ve seen this once before already. The Capitol does its best to stay up to date on every little detail of their lovely Victors’ lives, but when Haymitch Abernathy had his first child, he did everything in his power to ensure that no one would ever find out. That infant would live in someone else’s home, kept out of sight of the cameras and the Arena alike, and she would grow up to be you.

It wasn’t the worst of lives. It kind of was. No one can pick their place in life when they first come into the world, obviously. Otherwise, we’d all be living up in the Capitol and no one would be down here, choking on coal dust, waiting for their bones to turn ash so their body can be burned to heat the homes of the rich and prosperous a million miles away from them.

Haymitch watched out for you as best he could. He sent your foster parents money when he remembered it, always a little out of schedule, a touch too much to cover up for the fact that he forgot the last time around. He started remembering as you got older, though. He stopped feeling ashamed of you and started feeling ashamed of himself.

You see him a lot, although the frequency of your meetings always picks up around the time of the Games. He needs it as a reminder that not everything about him always leads to death and ruin. Once in a blue moon, Haymitch Abernathy is responsible for something good. Something, someone, like you.

There’s a schedule to the Games, one that isn’t known or enforced by the Peacekeepers, and it goes like this:  first there is the before, and then there is the after. Prior to the start of the Hunger Games ceremonies, Haymitch will be over at your place. You’ll talk a lot. Both of you will do your best to keep the conversations light. Remember when you were a kid, crawling around all the time? How you used to laugh like crazy whenever it snowed?

Then he’ll get dragged off by the Capitol to go mentor two kids until they die, and then you reach the second phase of the schedule, the after. Haymitch will hole up in his estate in the Victor’s Village, the only occupied house there, the only living being around because he couldn’t save a single person other than himself, and you will find him because no one else will. It’s quiet most of the time. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all, and certainly not the additional two kids who placed their faith in him just for him to let them down again.

After a while, he’ll manage to claw his way out of it, and then you’ll have the better part of a year before the cycle repeats. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to this pattern, and you’ve perfected it like a pastime. The right words to say get easier to remember when you say them every year. And now, as a reward for getting it right, you get to repeat the process with Katniss Everdeen.

You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not. Truth be told, it’s easier spending time with Katniss than anyone else, even right after her first Games when everything is bloody and terrible. You could see yourself doing this again next year, and the next one, and the next. You don’t think you would mind it. Not at all.

Perhaps that’s why Haymitch set this up in the first place. Maybe he knew it would be okay. Or maybe he was just so ridiculously pleased that he managed to save not one tribute but two that he was only thinking about prolonging Katniss’ survival. The reasons don’t always matter. What happened, happened, and secretly you’re glad of it now.

Katniss had been locked in a death spiral of nightmares and bad memories. It soon became clear that she would lose herself to it if someone didn’t intervene, so someone did. Haymitch took Katniss by the shoulders, shook her a little and told her to get it together, and pointed her to you. You knew what it was like to befriend someone who wanted to shut out the world, who couldn’t sleep without nightmares and couldn’t talk without thinking that someone was watching. You could understand Katniss better than anyone, and Haymitch knew it. Daughters are such wonderful pawns to play, aren’t they?

Again, a cruel way to put it, but this is the truth nonetheless. It’s what Katniss suspected the first time you visited her house, and the second, but after a couple of weeks passed and it grew obvious that you weren’t giving up on her without a fight, she begrudgingly let you in. The two of you had been observing each other for years now, the consequence of there only being so many girls your age in a small town in District Twelve, but things accelerated rapidly after the Games.

You’ll never be entirely certain why. Katniss doesn’t let people in, and she threw up her walls tenfold after she partook in the Hunger Games, unable to discern if someone was talking to her because they wanted to or if they wanted to kill her. She even started growing distant from Gale, because Gale didn’t understand her completely, not anymore. Not like you did.

Over the course of the summer, Katniss’ icy demeanor started to melt. She is hesitant and cautious, but she still smiles at your offhand jokes, always a little surprised, like she can’t believe she’s having this good of a time either. The two of you start meeting up in the forest surrounding District Twelve where no one can see you, where it’s just the two of you and the blissful sunlight waving through endless flurries of leaves above your heads.

And, not according to plan, you realize that you’re starting to fall for her. Katniss is like no one you’ve ever met before, even your dad. You knew how to operate around Haymitch, but Katniss doesn’t require an assembly guide or how-to explanation. You just know her. It is as easy as that.

After realizing such a thing as that, how could you not begin to love her? You can steal your dad’s drinks and get properly sloshed on them, but it’ll never match the tipsiness you feel when you look at her; when she laughs at one of your jokes, always reluctant at first but more easily as she gets more used to you. It makes you want to try again and again, and so you do. Katniss listens every time. She says she likes to hear you.

Instead of running away, you decide to embrace the feeling. You head to the woods more and more often, although never at the risk of the Peacekeepers’ attention. Katniss never tells you when she’s going out, nor do you mention when you’re out here, but the two of you have a habit of finding each other nonetheless. You turn around and there she is, emerging from a stand of trees; she crosses a bank at the same time as you; you climb a tree to get a better vantage point of the forest and you’re instantly drawn to the sight of her doing the same across a clearing. Katniss makes sense.

If you squint your eyes just right, you can make your entire world double. The hazy afterimages of present day will swim before you, a hair out of line but still there, still two instead of one. For example, right now, walking through the woods beyond District Twelve, it’s as if you can see two exact images of the current moment instead of only one.

On one version of this day a few years ago, when you hide away from the world in the forbidden greenery past your district’s limits, you come across Katniss Everdeen and you hide from her, too. You do not know her. Not well, at least. You see her and pretend otherwise. She does the same. She heard your footsteps first and thought herself visited by a deer instead of a girl. Her finger tensed on her bowstring, but she released it the second your face finally came into view. Katniss could not kill a person.

Would not. Katniss can kill a person, as it turns out, she can outlive twenty-two tributes through various purposes and keep one other alive, then do it again, but she does not know that yet. All Katniss knows in this past moment, this one half of a fractured memory, is that she will not kill you, and that is true today, too.

On the other version, the one that happens today, you do not run from Katniss, you go to her. That is the whole purpose of risking the Peacekeepers’ wrath by ducking under the fence to escape to the forest. The wilderness means Katniss, and Katniss means you’ll be able to spend another day relatively free from the concerns of a girl from District Twelve who has increasingly little between herself and the violence of not having enough.

Katniss doesn’t turn when you approach, but you can hear the quiet smile in her voice when she admonishes you, “You’re going to scare away all my game.”

You chuckle. “No, no. I’m drawing them out of the bush so you can shoot them. It’s teamwork.”

“If it were teamwork,” she argues, “you would also have a bow.”

You lift a shoulder. “I would never dare steal your favorite weapon. I want you to feel important.”

This does make her laugh. Almost indignantly, yes, but still a laugh. Still a win for you. She manages to nab a few birds before setting her bow down for the morning. The two of you sit side by side in the tall grass, a cool breeze blowing upon your faces, bringing with it the tender tangy scent of the forest.

Usually, neither of you have ever suffered from awkwardness when you’re out here. You could spend hours out here, not saying a word, and it would be just as fulfilling as if you’d spoken the entire time. Today, though, there’s something stuck on the tip of your tongue, a truth that refuses to go unsaid no matter how you fight it.

At last, you give in and, keeping your eyes resolutely ahead, you tell her what’s on your mind. “I’m glad you’re with me, Katniss.”

You can see Katniss frowning out of the corner of your eyes. “Where else would I be?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have heard me coming and avoided me the second I stepped into the forest. Probably would have caught more, too.”

Katniss shakes her head doubtfully. “No, we’re good. This is good.”

She sets her jaw determinedly, like this settles everything. It does, in a way. It gives you the courage to continue. “I’m glad to hear it. I like spending time with you.” A pause. “I like you.”

Katniss’ brow knits. “Why would you like me?” Genuinely confused, she adds on, “I’ve done terrible things, Y/N.”

“We’re all terrible,” you whisper back softly.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been in the Games. You haven’t.”

This is true. No matter how much time you spend with Haymitch or Katniss, nor how many stories you hear about the Hunger Games, it will never be the same as actually taking part in them yourself. With all luck, you never will. Both Haymitch and Katniss would fight to keep you out of them, and then to keep you alive, should that happen, but the possibility shrinks with every year as you get older.

“I still want you,” you tell her. More the empty forest air; you can’t quite say this to her face, not yet. The fear of rejection after everything is too great a burden to bear.

When you do risk a glance over at her, though, Katniss doesn’t look affronted. Instead, she looks more at peace than you’ve ever seen her. Slowly, carefully, her face upturned to catch the morning sun, Katniss smiles again. You’re not even sure that she’s aware of doing it. It is simply the only way she can process that this, you wanting her, would make her happier than anything else.

And, sitting here in the forest, surrounded by a million memories of all that you have done together, a thousand hopes of all that you have yet to do, you look over at Katniss and you know. You know that she loves you. You know that she can’t say it, not yet, not until she’s certain that you love her as much as she loves you.

She will tell you, though. In time. Perhaps it’ll happen another day out here past the confines of District Twelve, in a space that has always been safe to the two of you and will thus protect her from the fallout of confessing to a friend. Perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re asleep next to her, to avoid a response, or perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re pretending to be asleep, so she knows you’re heard and you don’t have to tell her anything.

Or, maybe she’ll just say it now, unspoken but still startlingly loud, audible in every glance your way, every faint smile she never bothers to hide. That, you think, would be enough.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[moonpoolcat]

Looks to the Moon (Not safe version)

It's Moon with tits, I don't care who says it's weird, my drawing, my rules now hold this L.

Quick Backstory (Short version)

Lttm is a gen 1 iterator an current senior to the Twilight local group. After the death of SOS, Moon was left feeling compelled to pick up where she left off the best she could. In this timeline Moon would not collapse like in game but instead be saved by an iterator who's can that is the first of it's kind was mobile. Along with NSH and Hunter. She could forgive Pebbles desire to escape, but she could never forgive his act of purposely ignoring her please for mercy, therefore Pebbles was exiled from the local group till further notice for not only attempted murder but the infection of the rot towards himself but her apprentice Unparalleled Innocence was affected as well. Later on she was secretly relieved the both of them had been cured by SRS an was happy to find out her brother was being looked after by Chasing Winds. This event forever tarnish, destroying everything she had ever believed in her entire life.

With a new perspective LTTM began to suspect her local group members were working against her? At first she didn't want to believe such accusations were true until NSH had hacked into their private group chat revealing they were part of the anti sliverists orchestrated by an unknown admin. Someone had premeditated this... In retaliation Moon would gather up these traitors an behead them in front of thousands of iterators during gathering, setting an example for anyone else who dared to harm her again. But the admins were not safe either for it was also discovered they to had planned her downfall so they had met the same fate essentially turning this even into the blood moon genocide.

As if it couldn't get any worse. Her UI had been the one responsible for Pebbles rot. For that, she was beheaded as well then was forced to carry out the rest of Pebbles sentence as punishment. With the weight of being admin, her lover gone, her brother traumatized, and anti- sliverists at war with each other- Something within Moon snapped! She became forever cold, merciless, relentless, and vengeful showing no remorse for anyone. Not even her own local group is safe from this iterators eternal wrath. Those below an only loyal to Moon shall not have to fear the queens endless quest for vengeance. The only goal this Moon has is to be rid the planet of anti sliverists that threaten everything she an Sliver worked so hard to create vowing to hunt down her killer if it's the last thing she'll do. Even if it means hurting the ones she cares about. For the ones that tread on stained waters will be the first to drown.

Explanation behind the design:

Look I like pogo legs but I needed this au to make sense if I'm going to be able to explain everything else. There were exactly 3 redraws of her dress as I attempted to go for a regal look but it had failed so I went for an egyptian look instead to set myself apart from the other Moons. Someone said she looked like a genie so I just rolled with it. The antlers were my attempt at matriarchy as I felt that it fit her since she is the oldest of iterators. The tattoo on her face on the mini casual is just a mark that only appears when she's not walking around trying to look professional.

Relations

Five Pebbles: Cares very much for him. He is recovering from cycles of isolation. Is slightly traumatized from Moon beheading UI. Has forgiven SRS.

SRS: Moon has little to no trust in Suns, she denied him admin role because of their poor mental health after exiling their abusive mentor. To her he is merely used as a means of brute force during situations where she does not want to spill blood. But on the inside she cares deeply for them nonethless worried whenever they have an explosive episode or any form of metal psychosis.

NSH: They use to be lovers before she half collapsed. Annoying as he may be Sig is the only iterator who she had given admin privileges to. However does not accept him as her equal because of memory loss. His speed is useful in keeping tabs on all the territories so nothing goes unnoticed. His two face nature and super speed makes it perfect to infiltrate places an come out unscathed.

Chasing Winds: He was the apprentice to SOS. He left the group after she died. Moon doesn't get along with him because he does not enjoy her violent tendacies creating fear setting a bad influence on the younger group members.

UI: Moon wants nothing to do with her. A lost cause and a waste of time thinking she could ever raise an iterator to one day take her role as admin.

Enlightened overturned silk: Wants dead immediately. (Keep an eye on this guy he's important)

Other local groups

Oasis local group: Allies

Zodius local group: Allies

Jaded local group: Not on good terms. Moon would rather see them dead.

Stormfall local group: Neutral due to Chasing Winds being Admin Moon wants no conflict with them.

Sliverist group: The only group she trusts to protect Slivers can. She took it upon herself to train them personally into the most lethal local group in the area an heads to Moons calls as they trust her enough to obey orders only because she was with Sliver the longest.

Anti-Sliverists: Wanta dead at all cost. Anyone who spots one are to kill them on site with no hesitation. Failure to report an a siting or incident are to be reported to Moon immediately.

Extra

The colored pearls on her antlers are her way of keeping up with who's in her local group, they're personal keepsakes that she forbids anyone from touching.

Neuron flies will forever circle her when she is wearing clothing. Otherwise they vanish when taken off. She keeps them around in case something happens an it is a means of a last resort of staying alive. They can be used an shaped into a projectile and will take one minute to reproduce a new one.

Weapon of choice: Scythe; It carries the weight of 100 leviathans. Only SOS, SRS an NSH have been the only ones known to be able to lift it off the ground.

Moon ironically can camouflage when it's dark, the downside being the ability is most weak during the day.

Morph form: Should have been obvious it's a deer.

Moon has a sister named Illuminated diamond Twilight, they're cycles older than Pebbles. Funny that her local group was named after her. Not on good terms when mentioned though.

Her antlers can retract at will, although she has to take every pearl off which is time consuming but worth it since it's just used as presentation.

If angered for to long Moon will enter a wendigo like state an will not stop until whatever had angered is either dead or has fled the area. It is recommended to not annoy her at all.

Moons lore is out go read it.

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt~

Chapter 7 (part 2): Stirring the Pot.

(Ftm trans Bright eyes - Uses he/him pronouns)

Porter had sat himself between Bright eyes and Fred, which didn't leave Bright a lot of room since he was now between Porter and the end of the couch.

As William was thanking everyone for coming here, Bright and Porter took terns steeling glances.

But once William indicated that the "meeting" had officially begun, they composed themselves.

"Now first order of business, as some of you may know, about a week ago I made the suggestion that Bright eyes be transferred from Sam to me as a mentor-"

The reactions to this information varied.

Alexis sighed and thew her head back in disappointment but not suprise.

Fred was flabbergasted and tried to look past Porter to look Bright in the eyes.

But Porter was in the way, and even if he wasn't, Brights gase was focused on William.

Porter had already been informed by William that he was taking on a new progeny, however he wasn't exactly anticipating it being the same guy he'd picked up at a bar the other night.

"You said you where done"

Alexis interrupted.

William ignored her and carried on.

"Bright had told me upon hearing this that he'd like to think more on it before making a definitive decision"

Again, mixed reactions.

Both alexis and Porter looked confused as to why he wouldn't jump at the opportunity, except alexis looked more Insulted than confused.

Vincent had obviously already known this, so he was waiting in anticipation for Bright's answer.

"I reserved Sam's consent on the matter, and now I have Bright's answer"

Fred shot Sam a look of pleading confusion.

Sam avoided his gase.

"So....

Bright's coronation will commence during the solstice"

Vincent punched the air.

He was hoping that Bright would say yes ever since they hung out.

Sam shot him a look to say 'calm down' so Vincent coughed and restrained himself from jumping up and down yelling "IM GONNA HAVE A BABY BROTHER!"

Meanwhile alexis had her head in her hands.

"Speaking of the solstice, for those who arnt aware, I won't be attending this year"

"What!?"

Bright exclaimed.

The whole room fell silent, he hadn't realised that this was a don't speak unless spoken to tipe meeting.

William looked at him, as everyone else did.

"I'm sorry Bright eyes, I know how momentous of an occasion this will be for you and I'm truly sorry I won't be there to see it, but there's nothing that can be done"

Bright sunk into the couch in disappointment.

If he wasn't going to be there what was even the point?

"If your not gonna be there then who's gonna....you know?"

"Vincent"

William turned towards him.

"I know I've put a lot of responsibility on you and your partner already, but I trust you to be the one to do this, the crown will be delivered the day after next, cutting it short I know, but I digress"

Vincent had been very stressed planning the solstice, but he knew that this was something he wanted to do.

"You can count on me"

Vincent said while looking at Bright eyes despite him technically answering William.

"Thank you"

William continued

"There is one more thing, and it is imperative that you all pay attention.

You all know how gossip spreads and how stories can get.....misconstrued. and as far as the other clans are concerned the newborns don't exist. So here's what we're going to say if asked. After the wonder world tragedy I asked Sam If I could take on Bright as a progeny because I felt it unfair to dump all this responsibility onto him, so to take off some of the weight, I took in Bright and only now he has decided to come out of the shadows and make it official"

Everyone understood, mabye some better than others.

But essentially they were being asked to lie on William, Sam and Bright's behalf.

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

Bright asked sternly.

"The last time I took in someone else's progeny it was because their maker was abusive, Bright, I know you have your.....reservations about Sam, but if we tell them the truth they'll assume the worst and Samuel dosnt deserve that"

Bright scowled.

Why should he have to lie to protect Sam? Whatever, thought Bright.

He'd do what William asked of him, but the question is, would everyone else?

"I......appreciate this.....but....you don't need to lie for me-"

Sam tried to protest but William interrupted

"It's not up for discussion, I know the clans, they will blow this out of proportion and you don't deserve some ludicrous rumour hanging over you"

Vincent was reminded of the recent information that there was a rumour going around that he had....done something in order to get William to turn him, he personally didn't care and thought that it was no one's business and anyone who had the gawl to make up somthing like that should be ignored.

But Sam didn't want anyone to believe THAT bullshit rumour so why would he want anyone to think that about him?

"I hate this...."

Said Bright.

"I know you do, but it's what must be done and anyone that is intent on telling them the truth or feeding into this potential rumour won't be allowed to attend. That's final"

On that note, William ended the meeting.

The fellow clan members were free to convers with each other.

Bright was about to join in and possibly answer some questions but before he could, William stopped him.

"Bright eyes, there's somone I've wanted to introduce you to for some time now"

William gestured for Porter to stand and "properly greet" Bright eyes.

"Bright eyes this is Porter, an old friend of mine, Porter this is Bright eyes, as you know he'll be my new progeny as of the summit"

The two locked eyes, trying to contain their mixed emotions regarding seeing eachother again.

Until Porter gave him a.....look

Took his hand and slowly shook it.

"Charmed~"

Bright returned that....look and for a moment the two just stared at each other, with William watching over them.

Fred was still sitting down and to get up would mean bumping into both Porter and Bright eyes and he really didn't want to do that.

The current position he was in allowed him to watch their interaction quite closely and he wasn't sure how he felt about what he was being subject to witness.

William began again, interrupting the energy that the two had created.

"Porter, I know you haven't been here in a while but while Bright eyes has been staying here for some time now, I've been told that he hasn't done a whole lot of exploring, so I was wondering if you could show him around a bit? You know these walls better than most and it would be.....beneficial for him to get to know other vampires"

Vincent overheard this and called over from the other side of the room, once again to no one in particular.

"I'm sorry? Why on earth would you WANT anyone to get to know PORTER?"

This was obviously ment to be a playful jab at Porter, however Bright heard it as crule and insulting.

So he just scowled at Vincent and awaited an answer from Porter.

He turned back from Vincent to look at Bright eyes and said, just loud enough for Vincent to hear.

"I would be honoured"

And took Bright's hand in his again.

"Wonderful! I've wanted you two to meet for a while now, you have so much in common-"

"That is the meanest thing you have ever said!"

Vincent interrupted again.

"Oh hush!"

Growled Sam, smacking him lightly on the back of the head.

William continued.

"Oh! And before you go, Porter I assume that today you would want to retreat to your old room, but I regret to inform you that what was your room is now Bright's room, so you'll have to use one of the guest rooms. Or you two could just share!"

Both Bright and Porter felt like they were going to choke at that comment.

They needed to leave and assess the situation. Alone.

So they swallowed the smug feeling creeping up on them and left.

Hand in hand.

Fred, finally being able to get up from the couch, looked on at them. Even after they had left the room his eyes were fixated on the closed door.

What just happened?

As soon as the two were out of ear shot of the others, Bright dropped the coy exterior.

"OK so how'd you wanna do this?"

"Humm?"

"You wanna keep pretending like we don't know eachother? You wanna tell any of them that we've met before but leave out the more....graphic details?"

Porter chuckled a bit.

"Me and William may be close but we arnt that close, that is to say, I would never share the details of a particularly wonderful night with him. As for the others well"

He took a moment to ponder this.

"Well since you'll be a solaire member soon enough I suppose information such as that could really ruin a....specific members day"

Bright assumed he was talking about Vincent given his behaviour in the common room.

"You two seem to really hate eachother, what gives?"

Porter hesitated.

"If he hasn't told you then I suppose it's better we leave it as a story for another day besides I'd rather not burden you with such things, treasure~"

Bright rolled his eyes slightly.

"But I digress, last time we....spoke (not that there was a lot of talking involved) you didn't mention once that you where a solaire"

Bright moved closer to him.

"Neither did you"

Porter gave a one-note soft-laugh.

"Touché"

Bright thought for a moment, braking their gase.

"Well I mean...TECHNICALLY I wasn't, I still arnt"

Porter sighed

"You know what I mean, so, as of now, who are you?"

Bright's soldiers tensed

"I'm....a Collins"

Referring to himself as such made him shudder.

Porter was shocked but smiled as he scoffed and tilted his head in thought.

"Samuel Collins? HE'S your?-"

"Oh god no! I'm his...grand progeny...? I-i was...turned by the guy you where sitting next to in the meeting, HE'S Sam's. But yeah I guess Sam is...WAS my mentor"

Porter almost couldn't believe it. Samuel Collins, the same Samuel Collins he knew 5 years ago, took on two progenys within the time he'd been gone, he really had missed so much.

"Well...fancy that"

Bright felt like they were getting off topic.

"Soooo, we're gonna keep....this a secret ooooor what?"

Porter was brought back to the present with this question.

The "look" he'd given Bright in the meeting returned to his face.

"Well that depends"

He stepped closer to him, lowering his voice

"Where would you like...this to go?"

The Manor was huge, almost every hallway looked the same so it was easy to get lost in.

But alexis didn't see what the big deal was, Porter and Bright where both annoying little sh*ts, it makes sense that they'd entertain themselves for so long.

And yet everyone was getting all worked up about how long they were taking.

To ease their concerns alexis was sent to retrieve them so that William could have another one of his "private meetings" with Porter.

It took quite a bit of trekking through the hallways to finally hear a muffled sound behind one of the doors, she assumed it was Porter and Bright, who eles could it have been?

So she opened the door.

Porter dug his fingers into Bright's hips as his back continuously hit the wall.

Bright's hands lay either side of Porter's neck, his fingers becoming well acquainted with his jugular, their tongues colluding over eachother in a perpetuated motion.

They both kept their eyes closed, drinking in every moment of this.

But as Porter took a moment to catch his breath and migrate his mouth from lips to neck, somthing caught in the corner of his eye.

And then he locked eyes with....her.

Then she vanished into the hallway.

Bright hadn't seen her so he didn't know the cause of Porter's sudden panic.

Porter however didn't have time to explain.

He pulled himself out from in-between the wall and Bright eyes and for a moment continously hesitated between going after her and staying with him.

Eventually he made the decision.

"Damn it. I'll be right back"

And then he pulled Bright closer to him, allowing himself to softly but quickly collide his lips with Bright's cheek then wisked away into the hallway after her.

Bright was left dazed, confused and more than a little aroused.

He moved his hand up to his cheek where Porter had left his invisible mark on him.

What just happened?

Alexis was faster than Porter but he was skilled.

He swerved and tackled her to the ground before she could reach the door to where everyone was still congregated.

Once he had her in a hold, he rolled them both away into another hallway, as to make sure the others don't overhear any of this interaction.

"OOW GET OFF OF ME YOU BRITISH F*K TART"

"Fine, just don't tell anyone in that room what you just saw"

"Oh like hell I won't!"

Porter pushed her head to the ground.

"Vincent's gonna kill you for trying to bed his new 'little brother' on the first day of meeting him!"

Porter smirked.

"Actually we had already met, at a bar, on the night of my arrival"

Alexis's grin widened.

"Oh hohoho~ you-"

Again her head hit the ground

"Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay quiet about this?"

"No"

"Thought not. Then I propose a....compromise. and I think you'll find that this way of doing things will make things more....hard for Vincent to swallow"

Alexis stopped struggling for a moment.

Then her smile returned to her face.

"I'm listening"

Taggs:

@darlin-collins @anexistingexistence @you-think-i-care-mate @that-gothickitty

[waywardsalt]

ive been rereading tnp and it’s bothering me so much i need to mention it here; it’s kind of insane how much the erins bend over backwards to make brambleclaw deputy, it’s kind of just nonsensical.

not even him not having an apprentice when he’s picked, though that is kind of wild, he just… there’s basically no good reason other than him being a main pov character and tigerstar’s son. literally any other thunderclan warrior who’s had an apprentice (barring maybe ashfur) would have been a better choice. thornclaw dustpelt sandstorm cloudtail brackenfur- brackenfur is one that firestar explicitly considers and the reasoning why he decides not to is so incredibly weak ‘oh i dont think he’d be right for leader’ number one what are you talking about number 2 then use him being deputy as an opportunity to help him become right for leader are you telling me firestar thinks the cat he once considered letting die in a fire is a better fit for leader than the cat he half mentored. dustpelt is clearly an experienced warrior, sandstorm is someone firestar obviously has faith in, thornclaw is experienced and i’m pretty sure you even see firestar consult him a few times (cloudtail is iffy bc thats cloudtail but he’d really be a better choice, just how he treats daisy and her kits would be an interesting justification for firestar making him second-in-command) but honestly besides the narrative jumping through hoops to act like the other very viable options are either secretly bad choices or otherwise ignore them (why is bramble the only cat we ever see jump to help firestar with stuff they just wrote everyone else to be silent or w/e) but in twilight where he arguably acts the most like de-facto deputy in leaf and squirrel’s pov he’s framed as a jackass half the book??? why would you do that if you intend to make him actual leader?? in his trial run of being kinda-not-deputy you just make him use his semi-authority to be cold and fucking mean to his friend and her buddy??? like i see him being qualified due to having experience being the travel group’s leader and whatnot, but barely anything else is done to make him realistically more qualified than anyone else- he just angsts about his ambitions and gets handed the position because starclan vouched for him for some damn reason even though by his society’s laws he should not be in that position

[somethingsteff]

🍄 and 🖍️ please!

Full list here!

🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Hmmmm. Fanfiction writing/reading + unwanted help (or criticism) = eventual true love.

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

The previous ask made me want to post a sentence from my wip that is currently only an outline, so I had to go back and actually write something. And then I decided "I do what I want" and wanted to post more than a sentence. 😂😂 Thanks, Pal!!

Anakin walked out of the movie theater feeling… incomplete. His friends were all talking about where they wanted to eat in the food court now that the movie was over, but his head was still swirled up in the plot he'd just seen unfold.

What if Ewan had gotten to Hayden sooner? Would he have been able to stop his fall to the dark side? And what about Natalie? Why didn't she trust Ewan more when he came to help? He was Haydens master, his mentor! Surely if the two of them had only-

“Anakin! Are you listening to us?” Ayla was waving her hand in front of his face. “What time is your mom picking us up?”

He snapped his attention back to his group of friends. Padme hadn't been all that interested in coming to see Star Wars, but between Ayla, Kitster, and himself she had been convinced to tag along. She only looked like she mildly regretted it.

“She'll be here in…” he looked at his watch. “Another hour. But she said that if we still wanted to walk around after she got here that she'd stay in the book store for another hour to wait for us.”

He hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. He wasn't sure how much he could participate in their conversation right now when they all seemed content to just not talk about the movie.

It wasn't even that he had any build up going into the film. He'd seen the first two movies when they came out and liked them just fine. Well enough that when the third one got announced he was the catalyst for this outing, but not so much that he needed to go on opening day or anything. But something about this one stuck to him. He couldn't shake the questions and ideas that were tumbling around in his head.

What if Hayden had been sent with Ewan to go after Grievous? What if someone else had gone entirely? Would Ewan have kept Hayden from meeting with the Chancellor? Or would Hayden have ended up telling Ewan about him being a Sith instead of going to Samuel?

Anakin continued to ignore his friends while they all ate, picking at his own fries and offering an occasional “mmm” in response to their attempts at drawing him into conversation. Eventually they stopped all together and contented themselves with discussing their upcoming school year. Another reason Anakin was glad to tune them out.

Padme and Ayla were a couple years older than Kitster and him and were starting their third year of high school, but for the two boys it would be their first. Anakin had been avoiding the topic whenever possible, but Kitster seemed excited to speculate what their classes and teachers would be like. Anakin was more than happy to leave him to Padme and Ayla's advice. He already knew his plan; keep his head down, work hard to get good grades, maybe join the robotics club, and just focus on getting out the other end. The strategy had always worked well for him in the past.

Besides, right now all he could think about was where he might find some message boards online to see what other people were thinking about Star Wars…

[kittykat299]

Thundercats (1985) Headcanons

As per my last post this is entirely conjecture based exclusively on the 1985 cartoon and nothing else. I have never watched the 2011 show or read the comic.

Reader beware, you're in for.... a lot

Thunderans in general

They have tails. idc what the show says they have tails. Some of them have lost their tails, in battle or otherwise. Will note which characters have which.

They can purr and hiss. Also they slow blink to show affection (like real cats!)

Wildly different heights from canon. Might update with height chart to elaborate later.

OG Thundercats all come from nobility and their paranatural abilities are a noble bloodline thing.

Thundera homophobic? It's more likely than you think. You know we love to hurt ourselves.

Lion-o

Was 12 when Thundera was destroyed. 17 after being sent to Third Earth. 20 when they discover the new Thundercats.

Autistic Himbo who loves ancient history. Could spend hours every day studying ancient history and views what little remains of First Earth as a treasure trove of ancient mysteries.

Bisexual. Had a crush on Cheetara as a teen, but once the new Thundercats showed up he fell head over heels for Bengali.

Cis man (he/him)

Speaking of which, marries Bengali, who he adores. He would die for his wife but he won't let him.

Has a tail. It only reaches his knees so is fairly out of the way.

Grew up feeling very isolated in the palace. There were servants, sure, and his nanny Snarf and mentor Jaga, but rarely got time to leave the palace and didn't interact much with his parents. He'll do about anything to get people to like him and fears the people closest to him will eventually abandon him.

Survivor's Guilt hits heavy when someone says to your face "we cannot save these people, we are prioritizing you". Even worse when your mentor dies to save your life.

Loves going camping and spending time in the wilderness. He picked up many survivalist tips from the people of Third Earth. He hates being cooped up inside and is slightly claustrophobic, and roughing it out in the woods every so often keeps him happy and calm.

Every so often he comes to Lynx-o just to ask him about his father, about Thundera's history. Lynx-o likes any excuse to tell his stories to people who haven't heard them a hundred times already.

Tygra

Was 20 when Thundera was destroyed. 25 on Third Earth. 28 when they find the new Thundercats

Gay gay homo sexual gay

Cis man (he/him)

Perfectionist with self-destructive tendencies. Addictive personality (both drug abuse episodes in the series were about Tygra, much to think about)

Has a tail. It used to be longer but he lost around half of it in an incident he still doesn't like to talk about.

Long term relationship with Panthro, they get married on Third Earth

Adopts the Thunderkittens along with Panthro. These two are the first the kittens turn to for parenting and comfort. At first they don't want to broach the topic in case the kittens get hurt but the kittens approach them after hearing Bengali and Pumyra talk about how Lynx-o has become a father to them and they call him dad sometimes.

Had strict, demanding parents who expected nothing less of perfection from him in everything he did: architecture, gymnastics, science, mental abilities, all of it. He regularly burned himself out trying to earn their approval until he became a Thundercat, at which point he ignored all contact from his family.

Had a hero crush on Panthro for a very long time, thought he'd grown out of it but when he became a Thundercat and began seeing Panthro in person it changed into a real romantic attraction.

Had multiple casual flings before actually dating Panthro.

Views Bengali as a little sibling, he sees his own naivety in relationships in her and wants to protect her but also they pick fights with each other a lot (mostly Bengali starts fights tbh).

Panthro

Was 29 when Thundera was destroyed. 34 on Third Earth. 37 when they found the new Thundercats.

Gay asf look at that harness. In the 80s??? That is a gay man

Cis man (he/him)

Had a tail, but it was cropped when he went down the route of becoming a fighter. A tail is just another weak point.

For relationship and adoption of kittens, see Tygra's entry above.

His and Tygra's relationship has been strained and they separated shortly before Thundera's destruction due to tension, but never stopped loving each other. Got back together shortly afterward.

He's not very good at expressing his deeper feelings, especially love and fear. This has been a source of tension in his and Tygra's relationship but it's mostly because Tygra can't see the way Panthro looks at him when he isn't looking at Panthro.

Grew up in a competitive household with a brother who would hurt him for fun, and always got away with some excuse or other. His brother was the golden child while he was often left out of the spotlight.

Actually pretty good friends with Bengali, they often end up working in the same spaces on their projects and occasionally collaborate on new gear.

Cheetara

Was 27 when Thundera was destroyed. 32 on Third Earth. 35 when they found the new Thundercats.

Bisexual

Cis woman (she/her)

Has a tail almost as long as her legs. Uses it for balance while she's running.

Has been athletic all her life, she finds comfort and destresses by working out regularly. Sometimes forgets her duties and responsibilities because she gets so in the zone.

Cheetara and Pumyra spend a lot of time working out together, both being more athletic than the other Thundercats, and developed feelings towards each other through athletic competition.

Goes on a morning run every day, usually to the Tower of Omens to go see her girlfriend.

She used to resent her psychic abilities, back on Thundera she was often made to use them as essentially a party trick despite how exhausted and hurt she would get afterward. As such she barely practiced using them. On Third Earth she was only rarely called upon to use them, only in emergency, and always given time and help to recover afterwards. She slowly grew to appreciate her ability and began to practice it until she could execute it more safely.

Struggles with feeling valuable when she isn't being useful, but has difficulty telling that to the others to get the support she needs as she's used to having to support herself.

Pumyra is her "exCUSE me, she asked for NO PICKLES" girlfriend.

Wilykit

Was 8 when Thundera was destroyed. 12 on Third Earth. 15 when they found the new Thundercats.

Still figuring herself out. She/her

Has a tail. Tries to take care of it, but with all the running around she and Kat do it's hard.

Has far more teenaged behavior than in the show. IDC what the show says those two are teens by s2 and dont talk or act like little kids anymore.

Usually the instigator of their shenanigans, especially the ones that land them in hot water.

She looks up to Panthro especially and often spends time watching and learning as he works on machines, even when she doesn't have to. Wants to build her own super cool vehicle, maybe with a sidecar for Wilykat.

She's the one who decided to talk to Tygra and Panthro about being adopted by them. They already had been, essentially, but nobody wanted to actually say anything in case feelings got hurt.

Wilykat

Was 8 when Thundera was destroyed. 12 on Third Earth. 15 when they found the new Thundercats.

Still figuring himself out. He/him

Has a tail.

See again: teen behavior. They still make poor decisions and can be childish, but they're not little kids anymore.

He's the first to break when they get in trouble, he's a bit more sensitive than his sister.

He doesn't start shenanigans, he just has very poor judgement and emotional control and will often make bad choices especially when he's angry.

Most likely to argue with the others, but also the first to apologize once he's cooled down.

Cheetara takes him under her wing in a sense and teaches him how to use exercise as an outlet for his excess energy. Tygra joins them too every so often, happy to see his adoptive kid enjoying himself.

Snarf

Age indeterminate.

He/him

Has a habit of still treating Lion-o like he's a child, even after he's a fully grown man and officially Lord of the Thundercats. Lion-o doesn't mind most of the time.

Much grayer in the face than the show depicts.

Doesn't really like sleeping in his own bed, will nap pretty much wherever in common areas so if something happens he can know about it.

Spends a lot of time worrying about something bad happening to Lion-o, especially when he can't come with and has to guard Cat's Lair.

Often thinks about retiring to the planet of Snarfs but can't bring himself to leave. He does retire eventually but mostly stays on Third Earth with the Thundercats he's gotten so attached to. Regularly visits the other Snarfs.

Initially distrustful of Bengali but has grown to like him, especially after seeing how happy he makes Lion-o.

Lynx-o

Was 50 when Thundera was destroyed. 58 when found by the Berserkers.

Kind of beyond dating for the moment, but prefers men.

Cis man (he/him)

Has a tail, but it's a bobtail like real lynx.

Was a martial arts instructor on Thundera, highly adept at most forms of hand to hand combat.

Never intended to be a father but after meeting Pumyra and then Bengali, has developed intense paternal instincts. He'll adopt everyone in this team if he has to.

Tygra and Panthro made up some braille signs for doorways and equipment for when Lynx-o visits Cats Lair.

As a young fighter on Thundera had a huge hero crush on Jaga. Used to be embarrassed by it but honestly is beyond that by now. Nobody's sure how to tell him Jaga's spirit is kind of hanging around still and can hear Lynx-o talk about him like that.

Will randomly approach Pumyra, Bengali, and/or Snarfer and drop Dad Lore before walking away. Those three are still trying to piece together his life story based entirely on Dad Lore Drops.

Pumyra

Was 21 when Thundera was destroyed. 29 when found by the Berserkers.

Lesbiab. Lesbiam. Less bien. Girls

Trans woman (she/her)

Has a tail. Sometimes grabs it by accident when she's going for her belt/sling.

Not really a specialist in any area beyond her athleticism, takes interest in learning as many skills as she thinks could be useful. Combat, first aid medicine, building, hunting and fishing, crafting clothes and tools. She'll climb the walls if she isnt learning and practicing some new skill or other.

Views Bengali and Snarfer as her little siblings, for better or worse. Was the first to be essentially adopted by Lynx-o and is the oldest of the three.

Short tempered, and just plain short. She's around Bengali's height- he is also short.

Sometimes spars with Cheetara. Always claims it's for training, but really she just wants an excuse to engage in homoerotic battle with a taller, stronger woman.

Lived stealth on Thundera, Lynx-o helping connect her with the medical assistance necessary to help her transition.

Speaking of which, once their survival needs were met her new biggest worry was not being able to get estrogen anymore. Once the Thundercats arrived she realized she could use the medical database and computers along with material found on Third Earth to create a new, steady supply.

(if they can solve all their problems with magic and if science can make shit like invincible superpowers real in this universe [i.e. the ep where vultureman does just that], i think sustainable HRT isn't too big of an ask)

Bengali

Was 17 when Thundera was destroyed. 25 when found by the Berserkers.

Genderfluid (he/him or she/her, depending on the day. Mostly prefers he/him) Gay (just likes men)

Had a tail. Lost her tail in an accident. Doesn't mind because without it he can show off his ass better.

Eventually marries Lion-o. Fell in love the moment he laid eyes on Lion-o. Anyone else notice throughout the series Bengali says that "Lion-o needs us" to do XYZ thing, when he means the team as a whole needs them to do it? His first line on seeing Lion-o is him stammering.

Didn't start experimenting with gender until Third Earth, at which point went nuts w it. Loves being called the Queen after marrying Lion-o. She doesn't have a name for it but it's essentially what we'd call genderfluid. Sometimes feels fem, sometimes masc, sometimes neither or both.

Grew up in an isolated tribe of Tygrans called the Ben-Gal whose culture was distinct from other Thunderans. They're smaller than other Tygrans and more likely to be born with white fur instead of orange.

Apprenticed at a forge from a young age at his parents' insistence (his father was a former blacksmith and wanted his kid to follow in his footsteps). Was something of a prodigy.

Entered a secret relationship as a teenager with one of the smiths working the forge who was in his twenties. When his parents found out, they kicked him out. His "boyfriend" refused to take him in and he ran away to the capital where he met Pumyra and Lynx-o, who took him in and tried their best to keep him safe. Pumyra became an adoptive older sister of sorts and Lynx-o was a father figure to both of them.

Partied hard after running away. Faked ID to get into clubs and drink and hit on men too old for him. His self destruction only really stopped when Thundera was destroyed and he lived for 7/8 years on an island with nothing but his found family and two Berbils.

She has adopted Snarfer as her baby brother and if anything were to happen to him she'd break the code of Thundera and end lives.

Snarfer

10 years old.

He/him

The fridge at the Tower of Omens is covered in his drawings.

Has a habit of standing in the room with people he wants attention from and just staring at them until they pay him attention. He has accidentally scared the others countless times doing this. The only one immune is Lynx-o, who will always eventually start up a conversation.

Listens to music as he does chores since it helps him focus on doing the work. The others don't really get his taste but if he's happy they're happy.

Has something of a know-it-all attitude but kind of grows out of it as he gets older.

Ropes the others into playing games with him. Hide and seek is his favorite but he needs to be careful because one time he fell asleep in his hiding spot and when they couldn't find him they were beside themselves and Bengali was about to disassemble the Tower before Snarfer woke up and came out of hiding.

[rei-kozuki]

𝕽𝖊𝖎 𝕶𝖔𝖟𝖚𝖐𝖎 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕱𝖚𝖒𝖎𝖐𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖐𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖒𝖎

Tokoyami and Hawks have a sibling-ish relationship going on. Mentor and Mentee, siblings from another mother. And then there´s Rei, who´s an actual sibling.

What´s tragic about it is that they did have the chance to reconcile, but yet they never did. Hawks being busy and not reaching out despite Rei picking up contact. And once Hawks finally felt compelled to reach out, Rei was too bitter to let him in.

And then he moves on? In her eyes, she moves on. Finds someone else to take care of. And Rei knows its irrational to be mad at Keigo, she knows she herself is to blame for the rift between them. They could have reconciled, and emotions and unspoken words are in the way. (And Fenrir, but that part she ignores.)

So naturally, she doesn´t like Tokoyami either. Its nothing she shows- Rei and Tokoyami probably won´t interact much but whenever a bird spots them or she sees Tokoyami on TV for whatever reason, the hatred bubbles out of her like mentos in a coke bottle. Rei can´t stop it- She´s just so bitter. And its childish. She´s better than this. Or maybe Reina´s not better than this, there are so many words she still wants to tell Keigo. Why she can´t tell him, Reina doesn´t know. Maybe because it feels so awkward now, or maybe because she knows that she´s to blame as well.

And Rei hates apologizing.

[elementclangen]

Moon 265-Newleaf

After getting an ear injury in a fight with a dog the previous moon, Whorlpaw (10) has permanent hearing damage in her injured ear.  She can still hear out of it, but it’s hard.  Brightmouse (40) offers to show her some tail signals that her mentor, Smokefoot, used to communicate and gives her some tips she picked up for reading lips.  Whorlpaw's brother, Hyacinthpaw (10), has discovered that he gets along well with Archdapple (36).  He can’t help but laugh when she tells a funny joke.  However, when Hyacinthpaw asks Kestrelcreek (54) for some help with a battle move, she ignores him.  He vents about it to Whorlpaw, who makes use of her new lip-reading skills.  Greenrapid (21) has realized that tom doesn’t describe how she feels anymore and has come out as a trans she-cat.  Creekstar (119) remembers how Blizzardback (28) used to look over the border and has been checking in with them pretty often since then.  Tumbleswoop (54) enjoys spending time with the kits.  He wants to spend all his freetime with Treekit (5) and promises to always look out for Hollykit (4).  He wishes he and Echomoor had had a chance to have kits together.  But maybe he’ll get that chance someday with someone else.  Kestrelcreek is convinced she’s fine on her own and spitefully swears that she doesn’t need others.  Almondback (36) gently presses up against her and calms her down.  Later on, Skipneedle (40) and Almondback are sparring, while Dawnfreckle (48) and Brightmouse watch.  Dawnfreckle wants to critique Almondback’s fighting techniques, but Brightmouse wants to compliment them. Creekstar is getting old and has been leader pretty much her whole life.  Primcrest (107) wonders if she will ever be leader, and if she would be any good at it. 

Medicine Den: Archdapple (yellowcough), Downgaze (broken bone), Almondback (frostbite), Greenrapid (broken bone)

[satureja13]

You can take a vote on the Boys 70s outfits! The Poll is -> here (I set it for a week this time ^^’)

Vlad went to the dancefloor. A chance to be near Ji Ho subtly. He was mesmerized by Ji Ho and he couldn’t get enough from seeing him in this outfit. But Morgan came between them and danced with Vlad. She is on a mission too ö.ö’

The song they danced to was Let The Music Play from Shannon

We started dancing and love put us into a groove As soon as we started to move. The music played while our bodies displayed through the dance, Then love picked us out for romance. I thought it was clear the plan was we would share, This feeling just between ourselves. But when the music changed, the plan was re-arranged He went to dance with someone else. We started dancing and love put us into a groove But now he's with somebody new - what does love want me to do?

---

Vlad felt uncomfortable with her on the dancefloor between him and Ji Ho and so they went to sit and talk. It was a good chance to find out more about the plans of the Council, Vlad let Morgan do the talking. (She has a crush on Vlad since the beginning of the story). Morgan: “Since Kiyoshi returned - don’t you want to take the chance to come back too? I heard your mentor was almost successful with making you suitable for society again... you could live a normal life and serve the Council!” Vlad listened to her babbling for a while and eventually went back to the dancefloor. Morgan just kept on sitting there swooning over Vlad. She is so happy that he finally noticed her and what a good listener he is and so handsome...

Let the music play he won't get away, Just keep the groove and then he'll come back to you again, let it play. Let the music play he won't get away, This groove he can't ignore, he won't leave you anymore, no, no, no.

He tried pretending a dance is just a dance, but I see He's dancing his way back to me. Guess he's discovered we are truly lovers, Magic from the very start, 'cause love just kept me groovin', And he felt me movin' even though we danced apart. So we started dancing and love put us into the groove As soon as we started to move, as soon as we started to move.

---

And Vlad was dancing his way back to Ji Ho.

From the Beginning   ~  Underwater Love   ~  Latest

[plunderwater]

Slayin' Alive, Slayin' Alive

TIMING: Recent, before Emilio got cursed LOCATION: Somewhere Downtown PARTIES: Emilio (@mortemoppetere) & Fang (@ronin-for-hire) SUMMARY: Fang and Emilio cross paths when their respective quarries end up together. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

—

There was a moment, then, when it all came back to her—how it was to be ignorant: to have no knowledge of the shadows that lurked underneath all that she knew; to sleep soundly at night believing light always triumphs over darkness, that love and peace and heroes would always find a way to make sure everyone was safe; to not chase after stupid vamps on what could have been a sensual Friday night. “I could be boning someone by now,” Fang groaned to herself as their chase finally ended.

Her target was trapped. Between her and a dead end. Fang smiled underneath her oni facemask as her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of her katana, a borrowed weapon from her late mentor. She narrowed her eyes at the creature, who mostly just resembled an idiot boy if not for the fresh blood around her mouth, almost challenging them to come at her and fight back. Her target looked like he was about to…but then he threw a kick at her, sending her shoe flying toward her face, which the slayer instinctively slashed in half, all while her prey threw themselves over the dead end and continued to run. “Motherfucker!”

Sure, she could have continued to chase after the damned vamp, but maybe she didn’t have to. Fang squinted when she caught a glimpse of a piece of crumpled paper on the ground. She quickly retrieved it, and upon opening it, smirked like she just won against a stupid idiot. “Is this his address? What in the actual fuck?”

—

In the beginning, just after the massacre, it felt like Emilio was tracking down another one of the vampires responsible every week. There’d been so many of them and, just after it happened, they’d been so proud of themselves. Bragging about it in bars and street corners, excited to say that they’d been a part of the group that finally took down the Cortez family of slayers once and for all. Finding them had been easy. Picking them off, slowly and painfully, had been simple. He’d learned a lot, in those first few months, about how much a vampire could take before its body gave out, before it exploded into dust, before it begged for it. He missed that, sometimes.

It was harder now. Word had gotten out, eventually, that someone was tracking down everyone involved. No one knew it was him — as far as both the undead and the hunter community knew, Emilio Cortez had died with the rest of his family in Mexico — but they knew enough to stop their bragging. Tracking down just one vampire who’d been involved now took weeks instead of hours. It took months, sometimes. 

So finding one in Wicked’s Rest felt like a win.

He’d tracked the thing to an apartment building downtown. It was a hell of a lot nicer than Emilio’s apartment, which might have pissed him off if he’d cared anything about where he was living. As it was, it felt about as empty as everything else did. The slayer sighed, making his way towards the building… only to pause when he felt someone nearby. Not someone undead, which seemed odd given why he was here. Just a presence, watching. He turned towards the shadows, slayer vision allowing him to see through them to spot a figure in a mask, holding a katana in one hand and clutching a slip of paper in the other. Huh. That was new. “What are you supposed to be?”

—

It didn’t take long for Fang to track down her prey’s apartment. Despite the way she looked and acted, she was pretty savvy with all the new tech. Well, at least for someone in her line of work. A quick browsing of Google Maps and she was all set. What she found more difficult was to not get annoyed at the fact that the monster she was hunting lived in a better place than she did. Probably some place they stole from its original owner. Probably even murdered the original owner. Yeah, that’s probably it. Fang strengthened her resolve by thinking the worst of the damned vamp, which she believed was what they deserved.

Fang had slinked into the shadows when she realized she was not alone. She raised an eyebrow when the man easily spotted her. The slayer was already on a roll with thinking the worst of others, so in her head, she instinctively thought he was an associate of her prey. How else would he had seen him so easily? Another slayer? Pfft, what were the chances? And even if they were truly another slayer, then they might be after her prey. No way she was sharing her bounty. There’s rent left to pay this month. So she took out her katana and swung at him. Like a complete psychopath. “Your Maker, monster.”

—

Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this. Emilio had dealt with plenty over the years, but a woman in a mask leaping out from him wielding a goddamn sword? That was new. He jumped back just in time to avoid getting cut in half, whipping out his stake instinctively. She wasn’t undead — he would have sensed it if she were — but the stake happened to be the most easily accessible weapon he had on him at the moment. And a stake through the heart would kill most things, to be fair. It just happened to work especially well on vampires.

“You practice that line in the mirror at night?” It had been pretty well timed, and he had sort of unintentionally set her up for it, but it sounded like something out of an action movie. Or… what Emilio assumed would come out of an action movie. In all fairness, he supposed, he’d never actually seen one. “You come at everyone like this, or am I a special case?” He wasn’t sure whether to fight her or just walk away. This wasn’t what he was here for, after all.

—

When Fang saw the stake in the man’s hand, she had to take a step back. It wasn’t a weapon a vampire would have, at least not any vampire she’s fought before, though to be fair, the rules here were different from the rules in Japan. Also, not that many vampires in Japan. At least not the ones like in this town. Or maybe even in this part of the world. But she digressed. A vampire didn’t need a stake. Even with just its fangs and claws, it could take down a fellow vampire. A vampire with a stake just seemed as dumb as a Charmander with a bucket of water on its head.

“You’re not a vampire, are you?” That much was fast becoming obvious. Maybe if she took a second to check, this awkward and definitely dangerous moment could have been avoided. But Fang’s quarry had been testing her patience since they first encountered each other all those days ago. She didn’t have the patience to hesitate going into this place, this supposed hideout for the undead vermin, certainly not the patience to trade quips, even though she wasn’t that creative. “A thrall?” With a stake? Maybe a jilted lover, an annoyed servant here to take vengeance on his master through murder? But her quarry looked nothing like Nicolas Cage, and this man was no Nicholas Hoult. “Are you here to… The creature in this place is mine. You should leave.”

—

He felt oddly offended at the question, the very idea that he could be mistaken for something undead, for something like the things that had ruined his life before it began at all feeling more like an insult than a general inquiry. It made him feel a little sick, with a tightness in his chest and an acidic taste on his tongue. “No,” he snapped, a little harsher than was absolutely necessary, “I’m not a pinche vampire.” 

And then she continued, and Emilio found himself impossibly angrier. She wanted him to leave? He had every right to be here, had more of a claim to the vampire in that apartment than she did. What was she after it for? Did it matter? To her, it was probably nothing more than another undead thing. But to him? This was a deeply personal mission. He was far too stubborn to give it up. “Fuck off. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been looking for this pendejo for months now, and I’m not letting you take it from me. I’m going to go up there, and I’m going to kill it slow. You can go home.”

—

Fang began to lower her weapon when he confirmed the obvious but raised it again when he declined to leave. Fact was, Fang wouldn’t kill an innocent civilian, even if they were wielding a stake, even if they were making her job harder. It wasn’t a wrong vs. right thing either, not a morality issue. To her, it would just be a waste of time. Innocent civilians could never defend themselves against people like her, slayers, hunters, trained from a young age to contend with monsters the former wouldn’t even know existed, wouldn’t even be prepared to fathom.

But Fang was now thinking of making an exception just for this asshole. “Look, dude,” Fang used that word in a derogatory manner, which was barely effective compared to the many other words she could have used. “Someone wants this vamp from down under dead so much, they’re paying top dollar, and I’m not sharing that bounty with you. So you either leave, go home to your video games or whatever, and spend the rest of your miserable, lonely life doing whatever makes you sleep at night…OR you can go up there, die to vampire Hugh Jackman in give or take five seconds, and then I’ll swoop in to get my rent money. Your choice.”

Fang growled at the end to emphasize her point, but she did get a few things wrong: One, the vampire she was after wasn’t Australian; it was from New Zealand, a foreign exchange student who had been alive for much longer than they were in school. Two, top dollar, the bounty wasn’t. It was just double her rent money, which wasn’t really a lot to anyone with a stable job. Fang did not have a stable job, though, so this was all she had. Three, she didn’t have to share that second part with him. Fact was, if she did just let him go at the vampire, believing it would make quick work of him, then she’d still be able to get her rent money after. Now he could just leave, making her lose a would-have-been advantage. Fang was no sly, cunning mind.

—

Ah. So it was money she was after. Emilio had heard of this, the side of the supernatural underbelly that exchanged lives for currency. Even in Mexico, there had been similar organizations. His mother had found it distasteful not because she believed any supernatural creature deserved to live but because she believed hunting to be more a righteous duty than a career option. Emilio’s own distaste for it came from a similar place. You believed what you were taught to believe, regardless of who taught it to you or how. Some things were just hard to shake.

“I don’t care about a bounty,” he snapped. “You want the money, you take it. It means nothing to me. The reasons I’m here are personal. It isn’t going to kill me, because I have been doing this my entire fucking life. I don’t carry this as un accesorio.” He waved the stake adamantly, frustration very clear. “And I don’t play video games.” 

If it were any other vampire, he might have been convinced to just walk away. Emilio was stubborn and possessive to a fault, but he wasn’t going to waste his time arguing with someone he assumed was another slayer over who got to kill a particular vampire. If the vampire was dead, it was dead. But this one was different. It had been there, in Etla. There was very little that would convince Emilio to leave that.

—

Fang raised an eyebrow. She found the guy incredibly rude, but then again, most of them in this line of work, and even those simply aware of the truth of the supernatural, were also incredibly rude. She’s been called incredibly rude herself, and she was, in a way, proud that those people kept their distance because of that perception, maybe even reality. She did find that last part funny for some reason, smirking from behind her facemask as she eased up on him, “Yeah, that much is obvious.”

Another thing that was obvious? Fang realized the other guy wasn’t going to just let this go. He seemed serious enough. About using that weapon in his hand to take out his vampire. Their vampire. Did it really matter if he’d die? He’d at least open some opportunity for her to swoop in while her quarry was busy with his corpse. Or he could be telling the truth and instead do her job for her. He didn’t care about the bounty, and the anguish in his voice, in his eyes, seemed to support that statement. Seemed like a win-win situation for her.

“All right then,” Fang shifted her attention to where their similar prey was supposed to be. “You just want the kill, right? Have at it. I’ll take the bounty when you’re done, so lead the way, Inigo Montoya. Let’s get this son of a bitch.” What better way to utilize the other slayer to his full potential than to use him as bait, or if he was really as good as he made himself sound to be, a weapon. She could at least sympathize with the need for revenge, as it was basically the same reason that brought her to these shores, trapped her in them as well.

—

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue with him. And he would have fought back, of course — Emilio was nothing if not damn stubborn, after all — but he was so goddamn tired. He wanted to get up there, wanted to dust that vampire, wanted to pretend it made him feel a little better, wanted to go home and drink himself into a stupor after and tell himself it was a celebration instead of a fucked up method of coping. He wanted to do all of that without arguing about it first, without having a stranger ask questions he didn’t want to answer.

But then she shrugged, and she didn’t argue after all, and there should have been relief in that but he felt just as empty, just as tired. Nothing ever fixed him. Nothing ever came close. 

He nodded as she spoke. “I just want the kill,” he confirmed. His brow furrowed a little at the name, and he shook his head. “My name’s Emilio. Not Inigo.” Not that it mattered, but he didn’t want to do this whole thing with her calling him the wrong name. That’d be annoying. Head up, he brushed by her to the entrance to the building. No elevator, though he would have refused to take it anyway. His knee would ache for days, he knew, would be so bad that he might not be able to walk once the adrenaline of the fight wore off, but he’d rather be in pain than reveal weakness to a stranger. Given the choice, Emilio would always prefer hanging himself to asking someone he didn’t know to cut the rope. 

The trip upstairs was a quiet one, since neither of them were particularly interested in talking. His heart was pounding in his chest, anticipation of the fight filling him with a pleasant buzz that never lasted long enough to amount to anything. “Just stay out of my way,” he warned the other slayer lowly. “You can have your bounty, but the vampire’s mine.”

—

“Fang,” she growled, back in her unnecessary Batman-esque voice. Back in Japan, it was the norm for the local slayers, deepening their voices so as not to reveal any hints regarding their true identities, their civilian identities. Fang already thought it was strange back then, even when she just started her training with her late mentor, considering they were already wearing the oni facemasks that was meant to scare the monsters, to remind them that they weren’t the only group stalking the night. She didn’t think the voice was, how the kids would say, extra until she got in this town, until it was just here cosplaying a character now played in the movies by the same actor who will never escape that time he played a sparkling vampire. “Have at it, Emilio.”

It didn’t matter, whoever got the kill. At least not with this job. It was just a simple elimination bounty, basically just take the vampire out and take a photo or a souvenir as proof that it was long gone. Come to think of it, one could just fake all that as easily as photoshopping a corpse or bringing back some other guy’s ashes. Didn’t even have to be the ashes of an actual corpse. Could just be ashes from something else, something burnt down. The people who put out these hits, surely most of them knew that. But then again, there was no price great enough for a good night’s rest. Fang would know.

Fang also, even if she would never admit it, harbored a liking for the extra work, the nitty gritty of the job. For most of her life, after her parents’ death and before her mentor’s passing, this had been all that she had, all that made her feel like her life had a purpose, why she was spared instead of her parents. If this was taken from her, the very concept of being out here and hunting down vampires and whatever else goes bump in the night, she wouldn’t know what to do. Maybe repair more VCRs. God, that thought almost made her vomit. “All right,” she let him go first, not even making any effort to watch his back. Worst case scenario? They eat him, which could still be a golden opportunity for her to kill them all while they’re chowing down on an Emilio taco. “No takebacks.” 

Whatever this guy had on this particular vampire, Fang didn’t really care. All she cared about was the money, the bounty. Still, she followed his lead while keeping a safe distance between the two of them. In her mind, she wouldn’t even make the effort to help him fend them off, if there were even more than one or two. It was wishful thinking, though, because when it comes down to it, when the vampires attack? Fang’s instincts would never let her not slice and dice at least one of them. It’s just who she was.

—

No takebacks. He nodded curtly, pleased with the words. The last thing Emilio wanted was someone getting in his way, slayer or no. His vengeance was his, and his alone. The thought of letting someone else do it for him, of allowing a stranger to kill what should have been his… It felt like a betrayal. His family, his daughter deserved more than that. He’d already failed to save her. What kind of father would he be if he failed to make the people who had killed her pay for it, too? What kind of man? 

They stood outside the door to the vampire’s apartment now, and Emilio let the feeling of the undead inside wash over him. That all-too familiar shiver up his spine, the way his stomach clenched in anticipation. He liked the fight but, if he was being honest, he liked this part, too. The part where the adrenaline was just starting to build, where his body’s knowledge of what was coming kick-started its response to it. 

He let himself revel in it for a moment before lining up with the door and delivering a solid kick to the wood with his good leg, the vibrations reverberating through the limb as the lock gave way. Thanks to his superior strength, it only took one kick; no time for the vampire inside to prepare.

Or vampires, rather. Three of them, all staring at the now-open door. Emilio zeroed in on his target single-mindedly, gripping his stake as he surged forward. “Looks like you get to have some fun, too,” he commented to Fang, ducking as one of the vampires recovered from the shock and came at him. He shoved them in Fang’s direction; they weren’t what he was here for, and he wasn’t doing anything else until he’d taken care of his business. 

—

“Fun?” Fang psh’d. She wasn’t here to have fun. More importantly, she wasn’t here to help this suicidal Emilio guy. “Oh, no, this is all you, amigo.” If he wanted so badly to kill the vampire, he’ll have to do this on his own. He’ll have to kill the other vampires, too. Fang was NOT going to lift a finger until they were all dead, him and/or the vampires. Fang was only here for the bounty. Fang was going to do the smart thing and bide her time, swooping in at the last second after everyone else was spent. Fang was—getting a vampire shoved in her face! What the actual fuck?!

In retrospect, Fang should’ve known this was going to happen. A part of her did. When one of the vampires ran toward them, mostly at Emilio, she already had her hand on the hilt of her katana, tightly wrapped around the handle, ready to slash at something that came her way, something undead. It was her instincts. It was her entire being. So, when the vampire was shoved toward her, she had little hesitation to draw her late mentor’s sword, greeting the oncoming idiot with the steel across its chest. “How much are YOU worth, baka?”

The stupid vampire was confused, but not confused enough to realize it was biting off more than it could chew, so it leapt back, away from the half-masked slayer’s range. Another vampire lunged at Fang, the other one that wasn’t Emilio’s target apparently, but she managed to avoid its attack by simply stepping back. Realizing they had the numbers advantage, the first vampire joined in the frenzy, with Fang forced to be on the defensive. Lucky for her, she was still faster than these guys and they were very predictable. Newly spawned? Inexperienced with their new state? Under some sort of distracting influence? Whatever the case, they were going to die if they didn’t stop tempting her blade. “Only here for one of you, but I can do this town a solid by taking you two out as well.”

—

She was stiff, but that was hardly surprising. She reminded Emilio of his sister, just a little. Rosa had been similarly serious, dedicating herself to the cause above all else. It was the reason why their mother had made no secret of preferring her to the rest of them, the reason why she was set up as the heir to the ‘top’ position in the family in a way that was never in question. Rosa had been a far better slayer than Emilio, and Fang probably was, too. But better didn’t always mean as much as people assumed it would. Rosa still died. Emilio still lived. The world still spun on, despite making very little sense. 

He had no doubt that Fang would leave him to die in a heartbeat if it meant furthering her own cause. In a way, there was some relief in that. Knowing where you stood with people was always better than not knowing, even if you didn’t stand anywhere good. He watched as the other two vampires combined their forces to go up against her, but there was little concern in the way he glanced back at her. She seemed like she could handle herself. If she couldn’t, he’d take the sword after she was dead. It was a nice sword.

Turning his full attention to the guy he’d actually come here to kill, he threw up an arm and shoved it against the vampire’s throat, pushing back with all his strength until the creature’s back met the wall hard. “¿Sabes quién soy?” The words were a quiet growl, meant only for this vampire and not for the other two or the slayer refusing to fight them. The vampire’s eyes widened, and he nodded, eyes flickering back to his companions. “I am going to kill them next,” Emilio told him, taking some joy from the way the vampire’s eyes shot back to meet his again. He cared about the other two. Emilio wondered what they were to him. Friends, lovers, family? It didn’t matter. He’d taken all of those from Emilio, back in Etla. 

Deciding he was no longer content with just killing the vampires, Emilio grabbed the one he was holding by the hair and tossed him across the room, sending him sprawling. It caught the attention of the other two, who turned away from Fang. “I changed my mind,” he announced. “I am going to kill them all. He dies last. I still don’t care about the money, but you can help me with these two if you want. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.” 

—

The pair of vampires threw themselves at Fang again, in a desperate bid to take out the woman with the sword. The half-masked slayer managed to dodge the first idiot by simply taking a few steps back, a look of disappointment behind that oni mask. It seemed the two lackeys didn’t appreciate her earlier comment. No matter. Fang didn’t appreciate them either. When the second guy tried to have a go at her, she didn’t pull back this time, slicing off his hand by his wrist in one clean slash. If only she could do the same to non-undead perverts. With a kick, she pushed the newly christened Captain Hook back.

That was when Emilio made his bold announcement. Or stupid, if you’re on the vampires’ side. Fang simply shrugged. “I already gave you a hand,” she delivered that quip dryly, even though she intended it as a snide remark, as if it was just a meaningless fact. To emphasize her point, however, she pointed at the vampire’s floppy hand on the ground. Gross. “You want some head, too?” As if on cue, the first vampire from before tried to attack her from behind, only to get his throat pierced by her katana’s blade.

Fang didn’t even turn to look at the other vampire guy, already knowing he would try the same. All of them did. It wasn’t a bad strategy, really. Sometimes, you have to take all the advantages you can. Shame Fang heard him a mile away with that shuffling and growling. With her eyes glued to Emilio’s, she forced her blade through her victim’s neck, cutting its way to freedom to the side. The vampire’s body plopped to the ground, though half of the neck was still attached to its shoulder. “There,” she heaved a sigh, calmly walking away from the lackeys and toward the couch in the other side of the room. “Have at it.”

—

As she fought, any of that earlier stiffness melted away. Her movements were fluid, easy. She was good. Definitely better than Emilio, something he could confirm now as he really saw her in action, saw her actually trying to fight instead of just sidestepping to avoid one. He had plenty of training, knew all kinds of moves and tricks, but most of his fighting was based on brute force instead of fluid movements like Fang’s. He was a tank — designed to take damage as he dished it out in hopes that he’d give more than he got. It had gotten him this far, but it was certainly less fun to watch than what she had going on.

She busied herself with her two vampires, and Emilio focused on incapacitating his. He wanted the vampire dead, but he wanted him to suffer first. The foot of his good leg came down hard on the vampire’s knee, the resulting crack and scream bringing a feral grin to the slayer’s face. It felt karmatic, in a way, even if this vampire wouldn’t live long enough to develop a limp or suffer in chronic pain from the injury the way Emilio had. This wasn’t the specific vampire who’d caused the slayer’s injury, but that didn’t matter. Specifics rarely did, with Emilio. Not when it came to this.

By the time he turned back to Fang, she’d already ‘disarmed’ one vampire and piercing the neck of them both. Not enough to kill them, but enough to put them to the floor. The vampire whose leg he’d just broken scrambled into a sitting position, attempting to crawl towards the other two. “Please,” he begged, “please just let them go. They weren’t there. I met them after, they’ve never even been to Mexico.” Another day, the pleas might have had some effect on him. He might have softened, might have at least let the vampire’s companions live. But today? Today, he was running on such little sleep after a night of memories playing out like horror films on the backs of his eyelids, and the vampire on the ground behind him had been one of the directors. Emilio had no kindness left to offer today. Maybe he never had.

He stepped towards the two vampires Fang had incapacitated, kneeling down next to the closest. Already one hand short and sputtering from the wound in its neck that wouldn’t kill it, sliding the stake between the vampire’s ribs almost felt like mercy. There was no fanfare to this kill, no words uttered to the vampire before it dissolved into dust. This was not who Emilio was here for. This was collateral damage. The wails of the vampire he’d come to confront were nice all the same. That’s what it feels like, he thought viciously. Now you know. Lifting himself back up, he walked over to the second vampire and repeated the move, making more dust in the floor. It felt as empty as it always did, but there was still that moment of thrill. There was still that split second reprieve. It was all he ever really got these days.

—

Fang had been too busy with her own problems to fully study Emilio’s fighting, though she didn’t really do that, even if she wasn’t busy. The stolen glimpses did tell her that he wasn’t messing around. Dude was a slayer, all right, and he wasn’t a newbie. Might not even be one of those annoying locals she’d encounter once or twice. Those guys are the worst, especially since one of them stole her kill, her attempt to avenge her late mentor, the only reason she risked everything to come to this part of the world. What an asshole.

“Mexico, huh?” Fang raised an eyebrow, still using that gruff fake voice of hers. She took out a small digital camera, previously abandoned at Sara’s repair shop, now fixed (as fixed as she could make do) and working, to take some photographic evidence of the vampires they’ve just slain. Well, Emilio, mostly. But her client wouldn’t know that. Nor would they care. Most clients she had that wanted these damned things dead (again) tended to focus on that part, the part where the damned things were dead (again). Or finally. For the last time? “Glad I’m fast.”

Or at least she thought she was. Fang managed to take a quick shot of the one of the hench-vamps she’d neutralized but she only got the other hench-vamp’s leg, with the rest of that other guy’s body already dissolving into dust. It looked like a half-finished Photoshop attempt at removing the dead undead from the rest of the photo, but blurry as fuck. Oh, well. She had that guy’s other shoe from before anyway. Should work fine for the client. “Eh, should be fine,” she heaved a sigh and shrugged before stowing the camera away again. “So, that seems personal. Should I leave the room? So you guys can fuck?” It didn’t dawn on Fang that she forgot the rest of the phrase: “each other up”. Not that the other guy can do much with that broken leg anyway. Yikes.

—

He’d almost forgotten Fang was in the room at all. So focused on his empty vengeance, he’d let everything but himself and the vampires fade into the background. It was a stupid move, he knew; the kind of thing that got slayers killed. But Emilio didn’t much care about dying anymore, if he ever had at all. Not that it mattered much here. Fang didn’t want him dead. If she did, she would have left the room when they realized they were dealing with three vampires instead of one, would have just let him fend for himself. He still would have come out on top, but she wouldn’t have known it by looking at him.

Glancing back to her now as she seemed to take what one of the vampires said and roll it over in her mind, he shrugged. “Mexico,” he repeated with a nod, offering no further explanation. It wasn’t as if he could hide his country of origin; his accent was heavy enough to give him away. Anyone who knew dialect well enough could probably even pin it to a specific region. But the details of his story, the reason why he did what he did, why Mexico mattered… That was just for him. Him and the bastard whimpering in the floor a few feet away.

Emilio turned back to it, rolling his eyes as Fang spoke. “Stay or leave,” he replied. “I won’t be long.” He didn’t think the vampire knew anything. If it had, it would have said something, would have used it as a bargaining chip to save its friends. “Do you need anything else from this one?” He didn’t care about her bounty, but she had given him a helping hand in that fight. He wouldn’t dust the last vampire until she was ready for it. That’d be enough to repay whatever debt he owed her for her help here.

—

“Nah, I’m good,” Fang simply shrugged after taking a quick photo of the last vamp. She had spent days on this job, though mostly on the tracking part. Fortunately, he slaying was made easier by this guy from Mexico apparently. Real class act. At least according to what Fang had seen with her own eyes after this first encounter. No sexist remarks about her thicc thighs or whatever. Not that anyone has ever had the balls to make those remarks, considering she ran around with half her face masked by a demonic visage and with an actual katana. Ball busting would not have been just a phrase. “I’m good…”

Fang took a look around the apartment as she tried to buy time for her mind to once again become uncluttered. Whatever this Emilio guy had with these vamps, it seemed personal. More importantly, that meant he wouldn’t try to fight her for the bounty, right? He’d said as much, and acted like he wouldn’t, but Fang never did trust these gaijin slayers like she did her old band, even though she was a gaijin herself and most of the time the only gaijin at play. There were a few things that seemed valuable, but her pride prevented her from taking anything of the sort. It wouldn’t have looked cool. Definitely not as cool as this Emilio guy and his personal revenge thing was. “I got the photos. Thanks for those, by the way.”

As she started to walk toward the door, having turned her back on him without any hesitation, Fang kept her wits about her. Just in case he tried to do something funny. Like take her out for the bounty that he wouldn’t even know how to cash in probably. She’d been betrayed by slayers in this town before. It wouldn’t have been surprising if Emilio followed in those assholes’ footsteps. With one foot already out the door, she called out to him one final time, fuck that last vamp if it heard him. It’d be dead anyway soon. “You ever hear of a similar bounty, keep me in mind, all right?” Fang took a business card from her pocket, with nothing on it but three different phone numbers, clearly of burner phones. “A girl’s gotta pay her rent.”

—

She was good, and that was all he needed to know. Ignoring the final desperate pleas of the vampire, Emilio drove the stake home and watched as the monster dissolved into dust beneath his hands. And the world was still dark, even without that vampire in it. He still felt empty, but he’d known he would. He always did. Today, at least, he chose not to let it show. The other slayer had already seen a little more than he would have liked for her to see, already heard more than would have been ideal. He wasn’t going to give her any more than she’d gotten already.

Nodding at her thanks, he straightened up and kicked at the dust gathering in the floor, sending it scattering. “No problem. Glad you got what you needed.” He didn’t care anything about bounties, but it was clear she did. So long as she never got in his way — and so long as none of the bounties she was after were people he gave a shit about — there’d be no problems between them. 

Looking towards the door as she called back to him, he nodded to the now-empty apartment. “Sure thing,” he replied. “I hear of any bounties, you’re my first call.” It probably wasn’t true. If Emilio heard of any bounties, he was more likely to immediately forget it. But it would be a good idea to keep her number on file anyway. If he was going to stay in this town, he’d need to keep track of the slayers in it. For better or worse.

[eljeebee]

Anthony Harrison and Priscilla Wuest (formerly Wuest-Harrison, but they're divorcing) stood in the latter's living room. They were left alone by Priscilla's butler. Priscilla faced the fireplace, never looking back at her ex-husband. She knew he's facing her. She can feel it, and see it through her spectral eyes. Anthony looked at her in pain.

"Are you sure, my lo—"

"Priscilla. It's Priscilla. Do not call me that anymore, Anthony," Priscilla cut her off, words spat with hateful poison.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice close to a whisper. "Are you sure, Priscilla? Is there anything I can do to make it up for you? We don't have to do this."

Her head hung low, shaking. "Make it up for me? Harrison, you betrayed me. You endangered the life of innocents! You sold—no—gave the enemies one of our important assets! You know how much shit I got from my bosses, trying to own up your mistake?"

"I did that to save you! It was either you or them — the civilians! If it weren't for me agreeing to send that package then you wouldn't be alive, Priscilla!" Anthony reasoned, voice slightly rising.

Her head snapped to her left, almost looking at him. "This is why I hate working with someone! I have plans, my own methods to follow, and you never follow them! Ninety-six percent of our missions were almost jeopardized by you! How many times did I tell you not to worry about me? I am immortal. Even if I die, this goddamned body heals itself—it never allows me to die! Picking my safety is bullshit!"

"You're important to me!"

"You did that as an excuse because you're a fucking double agent!" Priscilla yelled. The air felt heavy. The ground beneath them slowly shifted. Her powers slightly disrupted the reality.

There was silence.

Anthony took a deep breath, before turning on his heel. He's leaving.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, and started to walk away.

"What is there to say sorry for, Harrison?" Priscilla shook her head. Anthony paused. She continued, "Was marrying me, getting close to the Top Brass' favorite pet, part of your plan? To steal that asset and gave it to those bastards? Was it all a plan?"

"Did you ever love me, Anthony?" She said, voice soft, close to a whisper. But he heard it anyway. His head abruptly looked back at her. She was still facing the fireplace.

"Priscilla...," his lips hung open. He breathily chuckled. But it was not humorous. He tried to approach her but she stopped him. "Priscilla, of course I love you! You're the woman of my dreams, you—"

"I don't believe you," Priscilla spat.

Priscilla finally looked at him. His face slighlty lit up, but she ignored it. She couldn't care less if he's happy. "Let me tell you one thing, Harrison. During the time we were together, married, I was happy. I loved you. It was genuine. I thought I have someone else in my life that isn't just my mentor and my father figure. I thought you were the one. But it isn't. It was all a lie."

"But I did love you! Priscilla, please, think of this first! I—"

"Who are you kidding, Harrison? You don't work for us. With me. You've been with them from the start," Priscilla scoffed.

Anthony wanted to say something more. To prove it to her. But alas, what she's saying is true.

He looked away.

"Leave," Priscilla looked at him one last time with disregard. "I only allowed you to step foot in here because I knew you'd want to talk. Usually, I don't let my enemies leave this estate alive, but I'm doing this for old time's sake. Consider yourself lucky. The next time I see you, you're dead."

Anthony's head hung low, eyebrows furrowed, the corners of his lips down. He walked away, leaving the room—leaving her forever.

Priscilla looked away from him, her face twisting with a mixture of sadness, anxiety, and discomfort. Her sadness was understandable, but she wasn't sure if she should feel anxious. She feels uneasy; she knew the decision to divorce and cut ties with him is discomforting, but doing so also gives her that anxious feeling in her stomach. Anthony was her first love, in everything. He was her husband—ex-husband. But she have to do this.

She was brought back from her thoughts when she heard the taps of her butler's leather shoes.

"Miss Wuest," he said. Priscilla turned around. He handed her a manila folder.

"Thank you, Albert," she said, opening it and scanning the contents.

Albert clasped his hands behind his back. "The doctor was understanding. He said if you need anything, just..."swing" by at his office. He's worried for you."

She sighed, walking to the bar and sitting down on one of the stools. She placed down the folder, flipping through the papers.

"The madame...and the other council members were disappointed," Albert hesistantly continued.

"But mostly the madame?" Her eyes raised at him.

Albert chuckled. "Yes, mostly the madame."

She chuckled.

He continued, "Everything is packed, too. We'll leave the estate tomorrow."

Priscilla sighed. "Good. I know Harrison would respect me and not set foot here, but we can never be sure. Are the papers ready?"

"Yes, Ma'am. The papers you signed are ready to go."

"So it's over."

"So it is."

Priscilla closed the folder.

"Miss Wuest?"

"Yes?" She looked up at him. He was still standing a few arms' length away from her, prim and proper.

"How do you feel?"

Priscilla looked away.

He took that as an answer.

"No matter what you're feeling, all of them are reasonable. You've spent a considerable amount of time with Mister Harrison as his wife, you've dedicated your work for him, you loved him, so it's understandable to feel...sad, to mourn for the loss of love and connection," Albert said.

"Is my decision right?" She asked, voice small.

"Yes, yes it is."

"Then why do I feel it's not?"

"You're not used to not having him by your side anymore, Miss Wuest. It feels foreign to you."

"He's wormed his way in me," she dryly laughed.

A moment passed.

"This won't happen again, Albert," she said. But these words aren't for Albert, it was for her. "I won't let it."

Albert did nothing but agree. Her face steeled. The facade of a cold, no-nonsense agent returned. Her heart hardened once again, walls high, never to be broken down again. Albert would watch her grow heartless again, and it would take another lifetime to try and anchor her down at least. Be reasonable. But she loved, too much, that everything was replaced by hatred.