#p: can we just continue investigating...

[pockyfr0g]

funny doodle

[mggslover]

How the Unsub Stole Christmas ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 2

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: crime, angst, smut (18+), fluff, found family Content warnings: graphic cm case descriptions!!, mentions of shitty childhood, reader getting in some unsub trouble, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Word count: 9k 🫣 i swear it reads really fast A/n: read part 1 first! writing this story genuinely brought me so much joy, and i hope you will experience the same while reading this. this will be my last fic for the year 2024, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support, i can't wait to see what the new year will bring for this blog. don't forget to interact with this post if you've enjoyed! 🎄🤍 dividers by @issysh3ll

It shouldn’t have surprised you that you’d be called out for another case. Still, the disappointment lingered thick in the air.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Garcia murmured softly, her tone sad. JJ wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a side hug. “Don’t worry,” she reassured gently. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Penelope seemed satisfied enough with that answer, but then spoke up again. “I don’t want to stay here on my own. It’s spooky knowing someone got murdered just miles away.”

“You can come with us to the station. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Y/L/N, you’ll head to the crime scene. A deputy will be waiting for you there.” Hotch instructed. 

You exhaled softly and gave a brief nod. Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes filled with that quiet empathy you’d come to recognize over the years.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

“Thanks,” you replied, your words equally soft. “You too.”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the crime scene. The neighborhood was so small it hardly felt like one—just a handful of houses scattered across large, snow-dusted plots of land. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, as if nothing could ever disturb the calm. The street was adorned with Christmas lights and festive decorations. The only thing slightly out of place was a crack in the bench beside one of the houses. Otherwise, the neighborhood looked like it had stepped right out of a holiday card.

As you stepped out of the car, you noticed the few neighbors who hadn’t yet been driven inside by the cold. They stood in clusters in front of their homes, bundled up in scarves and coats, watching the scene unfold with cautious curiosity.

You looked over at Prentiss. “We should start doing some interviews—maybe send a few of them over to the station.”

She nodded, her expression focused. “Got it.” Without another word, she made her way toward them.

You followed Rossi and Derek toward the red wooden house, where the Deputy awaited by the front door. He looked young—probably around your age. 

Rossi introduced you to Deputy Wilson. Wilson gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry it’s just me. Almost the whole department is unavailable because of the holidays.”

“Convenient timing for a murder,” you mused.

“The scene’s been left as it was when we found it,” Wilson continued. “The back door’s been forced open, and you can see boot prints in the snow leading to the backyard.”

Morgan immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get a shot of those prints for Garcia,” he said, already heading toward the backyard.

Wilson looked at you and Rossi. “You want to take a look inside?”

You paused before heading in, shaking the snow from your boots and making sure not to use the doormat—the one engraved with the names of the family members. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful, to dirty the only thing that might be left of them. 

You took in a sharp breath as you entered the house. Your gaze was first taken by the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, decorated in red and gold. But then you noticed the bloody mess underneath it. Four bodies—two adults and two children—lay scattered on the floor, broken Christmas ornaments surrounding them, as though the killer had dropped them carelessly after his violent act. The mother and father were draped over each other, their throats slit cleanly. The teenage daughter, too, had her throat cut, but her body was twisted in a way that didn’t seem accidental. The small boy—no older than ten—was slumped between them, his face frozen in an expression of terror, a look that would haunt you for days.

The scene before you was a sickening parody of a perfect Christmas. Each of the bodies wore a smile, painted over their lips in blood. It was a mockery of joy, an image of happiness forced onto the dead.

You felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat and turned away, needing a moment to breathe. It was then that you noticed the walls, once filled with family photos, now smeared with blood. Shattered frames lay scattered on the floor, as if the killer had intentionally destroyed everything that was dear to them. 

Rossi spoke first. “The unsub who stole Christmas,” he mused, his tone almost playful despite the grim reality.

You gave a sharp exhale, a brief scoff escaping your lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You put on your gloves and picked up a shattered picture frame from the floor. You handed it to Rossi without a word. He took it, studying it for a moment before speaking again. “One thing’s for sure—this wasn’t just a murder. This is deeply personal.”

You nodded, scanning the room. The starkness of the crime scene was still sinking in, but your mind was already running through the facts. “The execution was meticulous,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the room, “but the aftermath... messy. The unsub rushed out of here—didn’t even bother closing the back door behind him, and those footprints? Almost like he didn’t care at all about leaving evidence. We might even get lucky and find DNA on the bodies.”

Rossi considered it. “It could be that he was in a hurry. In a small neighborhood like this, people will notice anything out of the ordinary. He probably knew he had to move fast.”

You hummed in return. “It still doesn’t add up. You can’t plan a murder with this much detail and then completely overlook how to cover your tracks afterward.”

You took another slow turn around the room, examining the details. Every piece seemed to add to the strange puzzle, but none of it fit together. As you passed the fireplace, something caught your eye: a piece of paper tucked into one of the stockings. You reached for it carefully, your fingers brushing the corner stained with blood.

You unfolded it with precision, revealing the scrawled words in black ink. The sentence was short and written in Latin, a language you hadn’t encountered in years. You stared at it, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Latin, would you?” You asked Rossi, half-joking, though the seriousness in your voice remained.

Rossi looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and dry humor. “Does it look like I know Latin?”

You smiled, already pulling your phone out of your pocket and speed dialing Spencer. As the phone rang, you turned your attention back to the paper, the blood spatter still making your stomach turn.

“Hey,” you breathed out as he picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft with concern, your single syllable being enough for him to decipher how you feel.

You glanced over your shoulder at the murdered family, swallowing hard before turning away. “I will be,” you responded. Once that fucker is behind bars.

You straightened, pushing the thoughts away, and focused on the task at hand. “I’ve just found a piece of paper at the crime scene. It’s a text written in Latin. I figured it’d be quicker to ask you than wait for Garcia to look it up.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment. “Good call. What does it say?”

You glanced at the paper again, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Spencer spoke, his voice calm but precise. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse. ‘Now they know you’re not perfect.’” His perfect Latin pronunciation made you wince at how poorly you’d read it.

“What’s that supposed to mean? A taunt?”

Spencer’s voice was thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying to prove something. It’s definitely personal.”

You exchanged a look with Rossi, who was standing nearby, holding the broken picture frame. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been thinking. Whoever this unsub is, he knows the Reynolds family intimately.”

“Garcia’s already digging into the family’s background,” Spencer replied without missing a beat, already a step ahead.

“Good,” you muttered, relief washing over you for a moment. “How are things going over there?”

“JJ’s been trying to reach family, but they don’t live nearby,” Spencer answered. “A snowstorm hit. I’ve been tracking the meteorological data, and the chances of them making it are close to zero.” 

You nodded, a dull ache settling in your chest. “Well, I’m going to keep looking around here. The bodies will be picked up soon to go to the lab, and then I’ll be heading over to the station.”

“Alright,” Spencer replied, his tone warmer now. “I’ll see you there. Be careful.”

“Always am,” you said, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it.

The words on the note kept drifting through your mind. Maybe it was the sentiment that came with Christmas—or maybe it was the fact that, up until now, you were having a perfect holiday, something you never thought you’d get to experience—that made the scene remind you of your childhood. How everything looked so joyous from the outside, especially during the holidays. But if you looked closely, you’d see the cracks. The ornaments on the tree, hastily glued together, their edges jagged and uneven. The hole in the wall, cleverly concealed behind your stocking. 

You were probably overthinking it. After all, it wasn’t the family that was broken like yours was—it was the unsub who had shattered their picture-perfect life.

Rossi’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, kid?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the past and into the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

You and Rossi walked into the secluded room the Sheriff had arranged for the team, exchanging your findings with Morgan and Prentiss along the way. You’d made a quick stop at a Chinese takeaway to grab food for everyone, knowing the team needed fuel for the long hours ahead.

The rest of the team was already seated around the table, and Reid was in the middle of showing Hotch something on the map of the neighborhood.

“Oh, you guys are the best!” Penelope sighed, her voice full of appreciation as she caught sight of the plastic bags you were carrying.

“We couldn’t leave you to go hungry,” Emily responded with a grin.

You took a seat closest to where Spencer was standing, and he naturally slid into the chair beside you. You reached into the bag and pulled out the only plastic fork, knowing he’d struggle with chopsticks. He flashed you a grateful, closed-lip smile as he took it from you.

Once everyone had filled their plates, the conversation turned back to the case.

“Garcia dug up some useful info,” JJ began. “Stephen Reynolds owned a construction company that’s on the verge of going bankrupt. It’s possible the unsub was an employee who got fired—or was cut loose because the company couldn’t afford him anymore.”

“It seems like the whole family was targeted,” you added, leaning forward. “The note was left in one of the children’s stockings. It doesn’t feel like the murder was just directed at Stephen.”

“That’s why we need to find out more about the Reynolds family outside of their neighborhood,” Hotch said. “The employees at the construction company could have insight. It’s clear the neighbors aren’t going to give us much.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical look on his face. “Did they really not give you anything? The neighbors, I mean.”

Prentiss shook her head. “Nothing useful. They kept insisting that the Reynolds’s were a perfect family. They even seemed offended when I pressed for more.”

“That doesn’t sit right. The note specifically mentioned how the Reynolds’s are not perfect.” Rossi replied. 

“I gotta give it to them, though,” Garcia chimed in. “The Reynolds’s are model citizens. The parents were both heavily involved in charity, and the kids have won multiple prizes in spelling bees and other competitions.”

“Has anything bad ever happened in that neighborhood?” Morgan asked, clearly skeptical about the idea of perfection.

Penelope clicked away on her laptop. “Well, there was a fire in one of the houses about ten years ago, because of damaged Christmas lights.” She made a sad face as she continued searching. “Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree once… didn’t make it.”

“What happened to the family in the house?” Spencer asked.

Penelope’s fingers paused over the keys. “Uh, let me see… The Eriksens died from smoke inhalation. Oh… this is sad. They left a child, Christopher Eriksen. He was put into foster care when he was just eight.”

“Did the Reynolds’s live there when that happened?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, they did. Actually, they organized a fundraiser to build a bench with the parents’ names engraved on it, in their memory.”

You felt your pulse quicken at the mention of the bench. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t trust your mind right now—not with everything still scattered from the case, and the ghosts of your past tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, but you decided to ignore it, keeping your focus on Hotch as he spoke up. 

“It’s best if we head back to the cabin to rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, and the station’s closing tonight so everyone can spend time with their families.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the relief of getting some rest evident on their faces. But as the team began gathering their things, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You hated the idea of putting the case on hold, even if it was just for the night. The face of that little boy kept haunting your thoughts, his wide eyes silently pleading for answers, for peace. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Spencer’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, his warm hold holding you in place. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

The entire car ride had been silent. Spencer’s gaze would occasionally flicker over to you in the backseat, but you kept your eyes fixated on the road, watching the scenery blur past.

The silence stretched on as you said your goodnights to the rest of the team and walked toward your shared room with Spencer. As you both got ready for bed, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Now, lying in the king-sized bed, you both stared up at the ceiling, the quiet stillness between you thick with unspoken words.

“When are we finally going to talk about what’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, careful but insistent.

You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, your words coming out a little too quickly.

“There’s obviously something wrong,” he pressed gently. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” you answered honestly. Usually, Spencer never had to push. There was something about him—something warm and patient—that made it easy to open up, to share your thoughts without fear of judgment. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just the case. It felt personal, something you couldn’t fully explain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, thinking aloud. “It’s just… something’s off. And I don’t know if it’s just me.”

“What do you feel?”

You hesitated. “It sounds stupid,” you muttered, brushing it off.

“Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.” His words were soft and sincere, making your chest tighten with warmth. You turned your head to face him, noticing the proximity.

“You thought it was stupid that I shower at 115 degrees,” you said with a playful smile.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the tension easing just a little. “I don’t think it’s stupid that you like it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I just think it’s stupid that you’d risk hurting yourself over it.”

His eyes warmly looked at you. One hand rested underneath his pillow as he lay on his side. You turned toward him, mirroring his position.

"I’m really struggling with this case," you softly admitted, trying to keep eye contact, though your gaze flickered down, betraying the weight of your words.

“Was it hard seeing the crime scene?”

"Yeah," you choked out, your throat tight. You blinked quickly to try to stop the tears that threatened to spill. “It was... it was horrible.”

His hand reached out to gently rub your bare arm under the blanket. "It’s completely normal to feel affected by what you saw," he began, his voice steady but laced with the kind of empathy that only someone like him could offer. "Witnessing something as violent and horrific as the bodies of two children—it’s traumatic. It’s a lot for the brain to process, especially when it involves young victims. According to studies in neuropsychology, traumatic experiences, particularly those involving children, can cause the brain to release a surge of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. It’s not strange that it leads to emotional responses, like anxiety and flashbacks.”

“I’ve been experiencing flashbacks,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You met his gaze, looking for reassurance, and he gave you the space to speak, waiting patiently. “It actually started earlier today, when we arrived at the cabin. I’ve never experienced a Christmas like this, you know, the kind that feels warm and joyful. I- I don’t know if I’m making connections that aren’t there, but the feeling I had in that house was the same feeling I used to get when I was growing up.”

He tilted his head. "What feeling?"

“...Jealousy.”

His eyebrows knitted. “Jealousy?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, gathering your thoughts. “You could feel so much rage in there. Everything that made the home feel homey—that warmth, that love—was completely shattered. The way the unsub positioned the family members under the Christmas tree, the way the note was tucked into the stocking… There’s a reason for it. Christmas represents this idealized view of perfection. I don’t think the message was to prove that the company going bankrupt is some sort of imperfection in the family’s picture-perfect life. No, it feels like the unsub was jealous of their happiness. Of the fact that they had a family who seemed perfect—something he never had. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin their happiness. He could never have it, so he shattered the illusion of perfection entirely.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing your words. “So you think the Reynolds’s were targeted as surrogates?”

“I guess so. But you don’t just stumble across a neighborhood as desolate as theirs.” you responded.

“It could still be one of the employees of the construction company. If Stephen bragged about his perfect family to the wrong person, it could have triggered something.”

You hummed in agreement, but Spencer could see there was more on your mind. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

“As I got older, I learned that blaming others wasn’t going to make me feel any better about my situation. It’s like the unsub hasn’t realized that yet. The way he executed this crime—it’s almost like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so meticulous in setting everything up, and then once he got what he wanted, he just… walked away. There was no care for the aftermath, no consideration of what would happen afterward.”

“Do you think the unsub could still be a child?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Your mind clicked, and for the first time, the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. “How old was the kid when he was put into foster care?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Eight. Why?” Spencer's confusion was evident.

“It’s been ten years since that house caught fire. That would make him eighteen now, and—"

Spencer’s eyes widened as realization struck. “And that he just got out of foster care.”

"Exactly," you said, rolling out of bed and storming downstairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Spencer called after you, quickly grabbing his cardigan from the chair in the corner of the room before hurrying to catch up.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to wake anyone.” You instructed, feeling Spencer’s presence behind you as you moved toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he hissed in a whisper as you opened Garcia’s laptop on the table. You didn’t respond, your fingers already flying over the keys as you settled into a chair.

Spencer huffed, knowing full well there was no stopping you once your mind was set. He hovered behind you, draping the cardigan over your shoulders. “I’m not covering for you if Garcia finds out,” he warned, glancing over your shoulder at the screen.

“That’s fine. I know exactly what to say to win her over,” you said nonchalantly, clicking away. In your mind, the image of Spencer in the shower was still vivid—a story you could easily use to distract Penelope if it came to that.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you found the file. “Here it is,” you muttered, eyes scanning the information on Christopher Eriksen. You clicked to open it fully, Spencer already reading ahead of you.

“They found bruises all over his body when he was put into foster care,” he read aloud, his voice tense as the words sank in.

You leaned forward, your breath catching. “This is it,” you murmured. “His parents— they must’ve bought into that ‘perfect family’ image of the neighborhood, but behind closed doors, they were hiding this. Can you imagine what it must’ve been like for him? Everyone thinking his parents were saints, while they were hurting him? All the while, they’re the ones who get a memorial bench, their lives celebrated while they tortured him.”

“It was on Christmas that he was put into foster care. Now, it’s the first Christmas since he’s been out. It makes sense to go back to the place where it all started,” Spencer concluded.

“I need to go there,” you said urgently, slamming the laptop shut.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Spencer asked, bewildered. He immediately followed you as you rushed to the door, still in your pajamas. “You’re not seriously planning on going out like that?”

“It’s just a quick peek. I need to see if I was right about the bench,” you said, almost to yourself, already focused on the task ahead. You didn’t even glance behind you as you pulled on your shoes and yanked open the front door, wrapping Spencer’s cardigan tighter around yourself to ward off the cold.

In moments like these, Spencer knew exactly who had trained you. You were unmistakably like Gideon—determined, single-minded, and often impulsive once your mind was set. And that, in turn, always left Spencer in a state of mild panic.

“You can’t drive at night,” he said, his voice rising with concern as he followed you into the snow-covered yard. “You have nyctalopia!”

You didn’t stop, your focus unwavering. “You should take night-blindness seriously, it takes forever for your pupils to dilate, and by that time, you’ve already missed the stop sign or, I don’t know, hit a pothole or something. Your contrast sensitivity goes down, so objects blend into the background, and—did I mention the glare from headlights? Because that’s a huge problem, and it makes it worse! You’re already having trouble seeing, and now the glare from every car that passes is just blinding you. It's like trying to navigate in a fog, but it’s just light fog, which—okay, that’s a really bad analogy, but you get the point!”

His words fell into the background as you continued walking, your mind fully occupied with proving your theory. The case had been driving you mad. If you could just confirm that the bench was broken—that Christopher was the one who’d done it in a moment of anger—everything would click. The case would be solved. You’d give the Reynolds family peace. And, selfishly, you’d give yourself peace.

“Please,” Spencer begged, now standing in front of the car door, blocking your path. “If you’re going, at least let me drive.”

His comment made you halt in front of the car. “You hate driving,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather be uncomfortable for a few minutes than risk something happening to you,” he admitted.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for how much he cared, how he believed your theory and was willing to go along with you. 

You reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture he rarely tolerated from anyone, but you’d learned over the years that Spencer appreciated it when it came from you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thanks, Spence,” your words were simple but your voice was full of appreciation.

He swallowed, his eyes softening as he nodded. “We’ll just take a quick look, right?”

“I swear,” you promised. “Just a quick look.”

He sighed, still clearly uneasy but unwilling to argue. You handed him the car keys and moved to the passenger side, sliding into the seat. 

—————

Spencer slowed the car as you neared the familiar area, the headlights casting long shadows over the snowy driveway.

"Let’s stop the car here," you suggested. The thought crossed your mind just in time—it would be very inappropriate to drive into a quiet neighborhood with an unknown car at this hour, especially after a murder had taken place.

You and Spencer stepped out of the car, the cold biting at your skin as you walked side by side. You stayed close to him, partly to keep warm, partly to follow his tracks through the snow, the dark pressing in around you. The Christmas lights that had lit up the neighborhood earlier were now off, leaving everything shrouded in an eerie quiet.

You made your way to the bench. Your hand skimmed over the smooth wood, lingering on the top right corner where you felt a distinct break—something sharp and jagged where a piece had clearly been broken off. You exhaled in relief. You were right.

Spencer’s hand shot out to gently grab your wrist, his fingers warm against the cold night air. "Careful," he warned. "You don’t want splinters. Stay here, I’ll grab a flashlight from the car."

You nodded, watching as his footsteps faded into the distance, his figure disappearing into the darkness.

You scanned the area. Everything was silent, beside the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet. Your eyes were drawn to a dim light flickering from inside the rebuilt house where the Eriksens used to live, just past the bench. Before you could second-guess yourself, your feet were already moving toward the light.

You crept closer to the window, standing on your toes to peak inside. The house was barely furnished, still very much in the process of being worked on before it could be sold. You pressed your hands against the cold glass, forming makeshift goggles with your fingers, your face just inches away from the window as you tried to get a better look.

A sudden pressure on your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you could react, an arm tightened around your waist, yanking you away from the glass. For a brief moment you thought Spencer was playing some kind of prank, trying to startle you—but the movement was so fast and forceful, you knew Spencer would never grab you that aggressively.

Your gasp caught in your throat, immediately silenced as a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Panic surged, but your body went stiff when the sharp edge of a knife pressed to your throat. You didn’t need any further confirmation that this was the unsub.

"I don’t know who you are," the voice rasped, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. "But you shouldn’t have shown up here."

You could feel his rage, his plan ruined by your unexpected presence. Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, but you remained frozen, knowing that one wrong move could end it all.

“I didn’t plan on killing anyone innocent, but you’ve put yourself in this situation,” he spat, his grip tightening on the knife.

In that fleeting moment, you made a decision. Taking a leap of faith, you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. The sudden bite startled him, and by sheer luck, he loosened his grip on the weapon.

“Christopher!” You shouted, the name ringing out with urgency.

It was enough to catch him off guard. In that instant, you turned, quickly positioning yourself with a better angle. He was taller than you—still, just a boy, consumed by something far beyond his control. His pain was evident, lurking beneath the fury in his eyes. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Who are you?” His voice was strained, the words gripping with suspicion and confusion.

“I’m here to help you,” you said sincerely, keeping your voice steady.

“No, you’re not,” he denied.

“I swear I am. I know what happened to you. I know what your parents did to you.”

Without warning, he shoved you hard against the house. Your head slammed into the window, a sharp pain exploding in your skull. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed.

“I do, Christopher. I do!” The words came from a place of desperation, your breath ragged. “I understand. I know how much this eats at you, how alone you feel because you’re the only one who knows the truth. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. The truth will come out. People will know what your parents did, what really happened here. You’ll get what you want, the world will see that they’re not perfect.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something soft, vulnerable. 

“They all knew what happened!” He said in anger, pointing at the houses surrounding you. “They all knew and no one said anything!” He shook his head, “I’ll never get what I want. It’s too late for that.” he muttered bitterly.

Despite his words, you felt a flicker of hope. He was talking. He was listening. That had to count for something.

“It’s not too late, Christopher,” you firmly spoke. “I thought the same thing once. But family… family isn’t just the people you’re born to. You can build your own, one that will love you despite everything. I’ve got that family now.”

He swallowed hard, his face momentarily flickering with doubt. “I wish I could believe you,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

And then, in a flash, his arm shot out. Instinctively, you braced yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched on, a flood of memories flashed before your eyes, a cruel reminder of everything you had to lose.

But then, a loud thud echoed in the night. Christopher crumpled to the ground, his body going limp. You whipped your head up, heart in throat, and saw Spencer standing behind him, the butt of his gun covered in blood, the impact of the blow knocking Christopher out cold. 

A shaky breath escaped you, half a sob, half a gasp of relief. You stumbled toward Spencer, your legs nearly giving out as you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his chest, voice cracking. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

He shushed, brushing a hand through your hair as he held you close. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured soothingly. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the team and the police arrived. Spencer had called Hotch the second you’d calmed down enough, and by the time they got there, Christopher was still passed out. The officers dragged him into the back of their car, while JJ and Prentiss took it upon themselves to reassure the neighbors that they had someone in custody.

You knew exactly what was coming when Hotch finally made his way over to you and Spencer, but your head was pounding too much to care.

Hotch scanned the two of you with a sharp, disapproving look. “Really? You went to catch an unsub in your pajamas?”

“The whole ‘catching the unsub’ thing wasn’t exactly part of the plan,” you muttered, wincing slightly as the headache flared.

Hotch exhaled sharply, then turned to Spencer, his gaze a little more pointed. “I could’ve expected this from her, but I expected better from you, Reid.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, knowing there was no defense. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hotch gave a sigh in response, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m too tired to deal with the two of you right now. I expect to see both of you in my office in the morning.”

“Actually, I checked all the rooms in the cabin, and there’s no office. Which is surprising, considering—”

“Spence,” you interrupted him with a nudge of your elbow.

He shot you a tight-lipped look, turning back to Hotch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————

The second you closed the car door behind you and buckled your seatbelt, you passed out. You’d always slept best during car rides, and especially now, with your mind much quieter now that Christopher Eriksen wasn’t your problem anymore.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you were still sound asleep. Derek told Spencer to wake you, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he carefully made his way to your side of the car, unbuckling your seatbelt. He lifted you into his arms, trying not to huff too loudly as he carried you through the thick snow. He made his way up the stairs quickly, hoping Penelope wouldn’t notice the wet tracks from his boots inside the house—he couldn’t take them off while holding you.

He was glad you were in your pajamas as he gently laid you on the bed. He walked over to the closet, grabbing some extra blankets and draping them over you, hoping it would help you regain some warmth.

Then, he crawled into bed beside you. Closer than he would’ve dared if you were awake, not quite touching, but close enough to share body heat. His gaze lingered on you, watching how peaceful you looked. The night had been a lot to handle, but he knew he’d do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

The bright light reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes, the movement only making your headache worse. You huffed and carefully opened your eyes, being met with the sight of Spencer. His hair was a curly mess, and a small, warm smile painted his face.

“Hey, how’s your head?” he asked softly.

The events of last night rushed back to you, and you groaned again. “So, all of that really happened?”

“It did,” Spencer confirmed.

“I really hoped I just got drunk on too much Glühwein,” you sighed, wincing at the thought.

“You can still do that tonight,” he teased.

“No,” you muttered in disgust. “I need to recover from this first.”

You glanced over at him again, seeing the concern still shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation last night,” you said quietly. “Everything about it was just... stupid.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going, who knows who else he could’ve hurt,” Spencer pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” You thought about it for a second, the weight lifting slightly. “Still, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“I’m glad I went with you,” Spencer said, his voice softening. “If I hadn’t... I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened to you. I would never forgive myself if I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

You gave a heavy sigh, turning your gaze to the ceiling. “That’s why it’s probably best we stay friends,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Despite Emily’s pep talk, this was proof that it wouldn’t be wise to start something serious with Spencer.

“Friends instead of what?” Spencer asked, his voice higher, as if eager to hear the answer.

“Instead of us dating,” you said, almost offhandedly, not realizing you were speaking aloud about something you’d never discussed before, even though the topic would come up eventually.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide, hope flickering in them as he looked at you. “You would date me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze too, catching up with the fact that you had said that out loud. Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately turned your gaze to the ceiling, not daring to look at his expression.

“Uh—hypothetically,” you stammered, scrambling to cover your tracks.

“You would hypothetically date me?”

You swallowed, still too flustered to look at him. “Yes. If... you would, I mean. If you wanted that, too...?”

Spencer was silent for a beat, his gaze never leaving you. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head.

He slowly moved closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You flinched back instinctively, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his expression apologetic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your heart beating faster.

“You said you’d want to date me,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

“Yes, but—” you stopped yourself as the realization hit that he was planning to kiss you. “Oh.”

Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned in a little, but this time it was him who pulled back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Kissing you.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, his tongue darting over his lips. “Okay.”

You smiled softly, then closed the distance, your lips gently pressing to his.

Spencer hummed in satisfaction, both of you staying like that for a moment, neither of you wanting to pull away. You were the first to break the kiss, catching your breath. If it were up to Spencer, he’d keep his lips on yours forever.

Your eyes fluttered open, faces still inches apart. Spencer cupped your face and pulled you back in, placing several soft pecks on your lips before he leaned on his arm, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to mirror his movements, but a sharp pain shot through your skull. “Ouch,” you hissed, pulling back.

“Just lay down, let me take care of you,” Spencer assured, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. You slowly lower yourself onto your back, the soft sheets crinkling beneath you, and Spencer moves above you, the blankets still covering both of you.

His lips found yours again. He kept them slightly parted, giving you the chance to slide your tongue against his. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, lips moving in sync.

The kisses become more heated, each one a little deeper than the last. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, the other hand resting on your side, his touch sending little sparks of warmth wherever it brushed.

You could feel the heat between you growing. “I’m so warm…” you mumbled against his lips. 

His eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was rough as his fingers lightly trailed over the buttons of your pyjama shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”

You nodded, and he slowly started undoing each button with purposeful care. His gaze flickering between your eyes and the exposed skin. He let out a moan when your shirt finally fell open, his eyes taking you in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe, before pressing his lips to yours again. 

You responded eagerly, your hands fumbling between your bodies to undo his shirt in the same way. You slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting your hands run over the muscles of his back, feeling the heat of his skin. 

He gently pressed his body weight down on you, and you shuddered at the feeling of your nipples pressing against his bare chest.

His lips delicately kissed your face, until he reached your ear. He nipped at your lobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You answered in a soft moan, your body arching into him. He didn’t need to ask again; he could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was.

His lips slid lower, kissing and sucking on your neck, while his hand slid down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, and then he teasingly dipped lower.

“God, Spence,” you softly moaned as he placed a wet kiss on your lower stomach. “That feels so good.”

His hand, which has been resting on your breast, trails down until it reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“More, please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips instinctively. His fingers slide around the band as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

He lowers himself onto his stomach on the mattress. With a tender touch, he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’ve lost yourself in his gaze—those warm brown eyes looking up at you, his pink lips swollen from his kisses…

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond, nodding.

You moaned as his mouth made contact with your inner thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. He took his time, kissing his way to the sensitive spot where you needed him most.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need.

The anticipation was unbearable as his hot breath tickled you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer. Slowly, his tongue flicked over your pussy, and you gasped, your body trembling at the touch.

He moaned in response, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, his tongue swirling in soft, teasing motions that had your hips lifting off the bed in search of more. 

“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, before repeating the motion, licking you again and again, while he grinded himself against the matress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, your body quivering as he continued. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his finger moving up and down your pussy until it entered you gently, then slowly adding another, the stretch an overwhelming pleasure. 

You gasped his name, your body writhing beneath him as the pressure built with every move. “Spencer… please, don’t stop…” you begged, voice thick with need.

His fingers curled inside you, pressing just the right spot as his tongue continued swirling around you. Your legs started trembling as you reached the edge.

“I’m—“ you gasped, but the words dissolved into a string of moans as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaking as you came undone, clenching around his fingers, your hips bucking against his mouth. 

Spencer didn’t stop, though. He kept going at a gentle pace, letting you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. Then, he slowly pulled away, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of wonder. 

“Was that good?” he asked softly, licking his lips. 

You laughed breathlessly as you nodded, your chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Come here,” you whispered seductively, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, which only added to your arousal.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with desire, his forehead pressed to yours. “I need you. I need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, moving your hand down his body, feeling the hardness of him against your palm. He helped you pull his pants down, and you stroked him gently, feeling him twitch in your hand before guiding him toward your entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent.

You could feel every inch of him, every movement as his cock repeatedly hit those places inside that made your head spin. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mixing with his ragged breaths.

“You’re so warm,” Spencer whimpered. “So perfect for me.” 

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as you urged him on, your body moving with his. His pace quickened, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate cries that escaped you. 

“Spencer… I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Me too,” he moaned, his hips slamming into yours. “Let me come with you. Please, let me come with you.”

You nodded, your body trembling. “Now, Spencer…” you begged in a breathless plea.

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he gave one last deep thrust, and then, with a loud, guttural moan, he came inside you. You followed a moment later, your body clenching around him as you fell apart. 

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths, the sound of two bodies, tangled in a quiet, shared moment of bliss. Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“That was… perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

You smiled softly as you placed your head on his chest, fingers lazily tracing his stomach. “Yeah,” you said in a breath, your heart full of him. “It really was.”

You let out a soft groan as Spencer stood up, and you instinctively reached for his hand, pulling him back toward you. “Don’t go yet,” you pouted.

Spencer smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, wrapping a blanket around his waist before walking to the corner of the room. He rummaged through his bag, his back turned to you for a moment as you blatantly checked him out.

“I miss you,” you murmured, leaning back into the pillows.

He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not even five feet away from you.”

You shrugged, your voice a little teasing. “Still feels like you're miles away.”

With a smile, he walked back toward you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hands behind his back. “Which hand?” he playfully asked.

“Left,” you replied without hesitation.

He swiftly shifted the small box he’d been holding from his right hand to his left, then grinned, revealing the gift. “Here you go.”

You blinked in surprise. “That was your present?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder as you recognized the familiar wrapping Garcia had handed you the day before.

Spencer nodded, watching you closely. “Yeah. Open it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the gift, your heart racing with excitement. Beneath the paper was a velvet black jewelry box. You glanced up at Spencer, your eyes searching his for affirmation. He gave a soft nod, accompanied by an encouraging smile.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you opened the box—inside was the most stunning heart-shaped locket you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you breathed out, feeling a mixture of awe and disbelief. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

A shy smile tugged at Spencer’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “It used to be my mom’s,” he explained. “She doesn’t wear jewelry much anymore, but she wanted me to keep it... to give it to someone special one day.”

Your heart melted at the thought, and you looked at him with newfound tenderness, the weight of his gesture sinking in. 

“She was happy when I told her I wanted to give it to you,” he added.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Your mom knows about me?”

Spencer nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I tell her pretty much everything. She likes hearing about you most.”

“Why?” You curiously asked.

Spencer's smile deepened, and he looked down at his lap for a moment, as though gathering courage. When he looked up at you again, his eyes were full of love.

“Because you make me happy.”

After your intimate moment with Spencer, the inevitable conversation with Hotch had to happen. Just before the talk, Hotch received a call from the lab confirming the DNA found on the Reynolds matched Christopher Eriksen’s—meaning the bittersweet news of Christopher going to prison.

“I still don’t get how the two smartest people on the team act like half a brain when they’re together,” Hotch had said with a half-smile, glancing at you and Spencer. “But… you did good work.”

—————

Later that morning, Emily spotted you, her eyes immediately drawn to the locket around your neck. “Fancy,” she commented, her smirk growing as she cocked an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you absently played with the necklace, a soft smile on your lips. “It’s Spencer’s. He gave it to me.”

Emily’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, and you could see the proud glint in her eyes. “You two are something else.”

—————

Throughout the day you and Spencer did your own thing, trying to act casual in front of the team—yet every time his hand brushed your back or he leaned in for a quick kiss in the empty hallway, your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as he played chess with Rossi, your eyes catching his in those fleeting moments.

You felt Spencer’s presence behind you like a familiar warmth as you stood in the kitchen. He slipped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a romantic?” you mused, running your fingers through his hair, the feeling of him against you enough to make your heart race.

His lips hummed against your skin. “It’s your fault,” he stated, his voice thick with affection. “You drive me crazy.”

You tugged him up the stairs to your shared room, pushing him playfully onto the bed. You stood between his legs as you began to slowly peel away your clothes, revealing the red laced lingerie set Derek had gifted you during Secret Santa.

“Never thought I’d be thanking Derek for gifting you this,” Spencer mused, his hands sliding up and down your legs, a smirk displayed on his lips.

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your thumb, the heat between you growing. “What do you think of checking out the hot tub?” you purred.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking down to his lap. You rolled your eyes as you responded in a sigh, “You can choose the temperature.”

Before you could say another word, he scooped you up, lifting you over his shoulder with a playful slap to your ass. You yelped, giggling as he carried you off toward the bathroom.

—————

The cabin was large, but unfortunately not big enough to avoid Garcia, so you knew what was coming when you heard the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hallway floor. She was heading straight toward you, her finger pointing accusingly at you.

“I slept with Spencer.” you hurriedly spilled out before she could say something.

She stopped in her tracks. Her face went through a thousand different expressions in the blink of an eye—confusion, disbelief, excitement—before she finally let out a high-pitched squeal. “You... you slept with Spencer?”

“Twice,” you giddily answered, the smile creeping across your face before you could stop it.

Garcia’s expression finally broke into a huge grin, and without missing a beat, she grabbed your hands and started bouncing on the spot. “Derek is gonna lose his mind!”

You barely had time to protest before she was already up the stairs.

As the end of the day drew near, the group gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, cocoa mugs in hand, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces. 

“Are you sure your phone is on silent?” Garcia asked Hotch, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I’m sure, Garcia,” Hotch replied with a small smile.

She was satisfied, her focus shifting to Rossi. “The honor is yours. You may present the last Secret Santa gift.”

Rossi cleared his throat, glancing around awkwardly. “Now, this might sound like a cheap excuse for forgetting to buy a present…” Laughter rippled through the group, and Garcia shot him an offended look. “But... I think I can speak for all of us when I say the best gift is us being together in this beautiful location.”

He turned to Hotch, his voice genuine. “Aaron, you’ve built a good team here. A good family. You should be proud.”

Hotch’s smile softened, his eyes briefly glancing over the group, the weight of the moment settling on him. “I am. Thank you, David.”

And for the first time, you didn’t question whether you deserved a place in this loving, dysfunctional family—you knew you belonged.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Claim the Heritage

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Wife

Warning: casual dominance, marital quarrels, tension, vulnerability, explicit smut, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, body worship, brat taming, self destructive tendencies

Word Count: 4364

6 of 6

Coriolanus Snow has a knack of pushing himself too far.

He expects too much from himself and does everything in his power to meet those expectations.

As a student and a starting politician, he has done great things, contributing fresh insights to Panem.  And now that he is the President, he has the power to do things with his own hands.  No longer having to need the approval of people of higher status, not when he’s the President, nobody has power greater than his.

You worry that he might be forgetting his other responsibilities.

He is after all, not just Mister President but also your husband.

You see him often in the corridors and you exchange nothing more than sultry glances.  It was fun the first time you have done it but you are left wanting now.

At night, the two of you come home late, too tired to get some action going.

You have needs that long to be fulfilled.

And your unfed desires manifested in your temper.

The men in the room are discussing the recent power outage that paralyzed Panem for a day.  A malfunction caused by severe water temperatures in the hydroelectric dam in District 5 caused a cascading error in the system.  The Capitol and a portion of District 1 and 2 were able to continue their operation due to generators but the other Districts suffered from it.  And the one day pause of labor caused a slight drop to Panem’s stock charts.

All eight of your husband’s subordinates are trying to raise their opinions about the matter, how they will conduct another investigation as they are quite convinced it was human error, and how they will punish the one responsible for it too.

Their voices are starting to irritate you, making you tap your foot under the desk.  Coriolanus seems to be ignoring them as he reads through the report.  How he can manage to focus, you have absolutely no idea.

You try to regain your composure by taking a sip of water but it does not help, not one bit.  Deep intakes of breath also seem to be not working.

Coriolanus is still reading the report, his back against his chair as one of his hands toy with his pen.  His fingers are looking rather breathtaking today.

You look away before anyone could notice your desperation.

“Frankly, you are all arguing about matters that have been resolved already.”  He murmurs and you are thankful for it as the room quiets down.

“What do you mean sir?”

You bite your cheek to stop yourself from berating the man.  But Coriolanus can see that arch in your brow any day.  You are pissed.

“You have something to say, wife?”  He smiles knowingly at you and you look at him sharply but his smile only widens more.

“Well, all of you are being foolish!”  You finally burst.  Coriolanus leans back in his chair as if he is watching a rather interesting show.  “There is a report given, and a very good one at that.  Do you all have poor reading comprehension that you cannot understand that this is not a human error!”

The room falls silent as the men stare at you with their cheeks pinking in embarrassment.

Coriolanus clears his throat and leans closer to his desk.  “I believe what the Missus wants to say is that we must be coming up with solutions to prevent this from happening again rather than point fingers.”

You glare at him again but Coriolanus is not looking at you but the men who are nodding in agreement.  You hear a chorus of apologies from the men and you can’t help your bottom lip from jutting out in irritation.

“We can strengthen the system.  A collaboration with District 3, perhaps?”  A man says nervously, eyes flitting to you for approval but you don’t acknowledge him.

The other men raise their support.  They have to stay in your good graces.  All eight of them are dispensable.  If you talk to your husband to eliminate them, there will be nothing they can do.

They are proud men, but they too are necessary associates, albeit shortsighted at times.

You lean on your chair and swivel it so you are partially facing your husband.  “Another source of power.”

He nods at you to continue.

“A solar plant.”  You say.  “It is a good back up.”

Coriolanus rubs his chin and considers it for a moment.  “Indeed.  May I ask you to write a proposal, my love?”

“Of course.”  You say and you begin tidying up your stuff.  Coriolanus picks it up and addresses the men in general.

“I appreciate your…enthusiasm in helping our great nation.  Good day, gentlemen.”

They all file out of the room, thanking the President and you.  They all seem to sweat when you dismiss them with nothing but a brief nod.

Coriolanus leaves his chair and he eyes the pout in your lips. 

“Have a great day.”  You say as you stand.

“Leaving so soon?”  He raises a brow.

You stop in your tracks to look at him weirdly.  “You asked me to write a proposal?”

He hums at this and presses a chaste kiss on your lips.  “I will be seeing you at lunch, then.”  He guides you to the door and you both exit the meeting room to go to your separate offices.

His behavior is really really starting to irk you.

You are lying if you were not hoping that he would stop you and at least help out with the tension in your body.

But you guess not, he is a busy guy after all.

Coriolanus buries himself more and more with work.

You worry that he might be close to self-destruction.

The crops in District 9 suffered from a locust infestation and it kept him up very late for a few weeks.

You started to miss him very much.  Try as you might to stay awake in your room, it is not until nearly sunrise when he joins you.

It hurts and you hate yourself for being selfish.

One morning as you share your breakfast, you notice that he is barely touching his food as he reads the report about the red tide poisoning in District 4.

“Corio, eat.”  You say before your lips wrap around a strawberry.

He only hums in response as he flips to the next page of the report.

You glance at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, his skin looking dehydrated, and it is evidenced by the cracks in his lips.

“You will die before you turn thirty if you keep that up.”  You say lowly before you suck on your finger absentmindedly, your eyes now scanning your bowl for the next strawberry you’ll eat.

This caught his attention.

“What did you just say?”  There was a challenge in his voice and you hesitate for a moment, heart wanting to submit and apologize but the Swansworth blood courses through your veins and you fear you will shame the strong women before you if you fold so easily.

You look at him dead in the eye.  “You will die before you turn thirty if you keep that up.”  You smile at him sweetly.  “Was that clear enough for you, or do I have to repeat myself again?”

His jaw tightens, his eyes sharp.  He does not take mentions of his death lightly.  Had you been anyone else, you would have your tongue cut off and live as an Avox.

“You really are your father’s daughter.”  He sighs, trying his best to hide the amused smile you put on his face.

You wanted to retort but your words die in your tongue.  Coriolanus glances up at you when you don’t speak.  Usually, you would have bitten another comment at him.  But you were only looking at your strawberries sadly, finger tracing the bowl that held them.

The sound of paper crinkling had you looking up.  He folded the report away, he had the necessary information he needed anyway.  Coriolanus knows you are watching him and he scoops a mouthful of truffle scrambled eggs.  You gave him the sweetest smile he had seen on your face for weeks, and it was motivation enough for him to eat the breakfast that was served to him.  Yet, he still finishes first.

You pout unknowingly when he wipes his lips with the napkin and walks over to kiss your forehead.

“I will be seeing you later for your report.”

“See you.”  You reply with less enthusiasm.

He watches how sadness swam in your eyes and he leans closer to peck your lips and he is off.

You did not have much energy for work afterwards.

The meeting was at 10 in the morning and you arrived in the meeting room at 10:02.  Coriolanus was not pleased.

He did not back you up when the other men in the room asked questions about your presentation.  It was their job to pick apart your proposal and you only show them how flawless it is.  They are finally satisfied with it after a while, your throat burning from how many questions they asked.

You are infuriated with your husband.  You feel like he is throwing you to the wolves.  Not that you can’t tame the said wolves but it made your blood boil.

“I have decided to call this solar plant, Coriolanus 9.”  You attempt a smile and they actually bite.  “In honor of our President, and us.”  You purposefully let yourself blend in with the men in this proposal.  You need to boost their morale from time to time.

All eight of them murmur their agreement, smiles wide as they feel honored just by being included in the project.

After a few more questions from them, your husband finally adjourns the meeting.

His lack of support was not appreciated and you are determined to get out of this stuffy meeting room.

“Gentlemen, that would be all.”  

What about you?

Your lips part in protest but Coriolanus raises a finger at you, making you close your mouth as you narrow your eyes at him.

After the men filed out, you got up briskly, your chair wheeling back in a great speed.

“Careful.”

“Oh, so you’re talking now?”  You snap, your hand placed on your hip.

Coriolanus only leans on his chair as he looks you in the eye, his chin tilted upwards.

“I am…”  he pauses as he scratches his chin.  “upset with you.”

You scoff.  “You are upset with me? I am upset with you!”  You point at him harshly.  “You were the one who asked me to make a proposal and present it afterwards!  But what did you do?  You did not support me or give me assurance!”

“I was confident in your proposal.”  Coriolanus stands up calmly, his hands in his pockets, his thumb jutting out.

You give him one final glare and you huff, turning your nose up as you look away.  “I am done talking to you today.”

Coriolanus grips your arm before you can walk away.

His hand is warmer than usual and you frown.

“Do you need me to put you in your place?”  

The threatening growl in his voice washed away all the fight in you.

You bite your lip nervously, the entire bottom lip disappearing behind a row of teeth.  You shake your head and you tear up from how pathetic you have become for this man.

He smooths your hair and places a warm kiss against your temple.  “Be good.”  He murmurs.

You watch him collect his things and he throws you one final warning glance and he exits the meeting room.  Your hands grip the hardwood table to steady yourself.

How dare he!

You are his wife, not some District whore that needs to be reprimanded, you will not allow such disrespect again!

Coriolanus is not surprised to see you miss lunch.  His assistant tells him that you are having luncheon with Mrs. Plinth.  And that…you canceled all your plans for the day.  And the rest of the week.

He taps a finger on his desk and wonders if he pushed you too far earlier. 

Coriolanus glances at your photo in his desk.  Your smile was brighter then.  

A slight pounding in his head makes him grimace and he groans.

There were two more bills he needed to get through before he could relax.  Coriolanus inhales sharply, forcing his eyes to read through the files.

It was night time when he came home.  He missed dinner again.

Coriolanus had an unsettling feeling in his stomach when he entered your home.  It was dark and cold.

There was enough security outside but no signs of life inside.

Your servants usually retire after dinner and come back only in the mornings to serve you your breakfast.

But where are you?

Coriolanus doubles his steps to check your bedroom, you are not there.

His heart starts pounding, cold sweat dripping from his temple as he runs around his mansion in his tight suit.  He wanted to ask the peacekeepers stationed outside if you are even in your mansion when he catches a glimpse of your sheer robe in your sunroom.  He steps closer and sees you there, asleep in your plush chair, curled up around a book.

For a moment, he just stares at you, calming himself down.  No one has taken you and you did not leave.  Coriolanus seats himself to the identical chair across you and just looks at the rise and fall of your chest.

You must have fallen asleep as you were having your afternoon read.  It appears you might have missed dinner, as none of the lights are on.  The servants must have left it off so as to not disturb your sleep.

The night deepens and he just sits there, still convincing himself that you are still with him.

Coriolanus believes he will be there until morning comes but fate has other plans and your book slips from your hold, the hardcover making a loud slamming noise against the otherwise silent evening.

You jolt awake from the noise and when you reach for it, you catch a glimpse of him and you jolt for the second time.

“Heavens!”  You clutch your chest tightly, your eyes glaring accusingly at him.  “Do not scare me like that!”

He laughs hollowly.

“Apologies.”  He mutters.

You lean back in your chair, holding your book in your lap.

“Have you eaten your dinner?”  You ask just to break the silence.

“Not yet and neither did you.”  He uncuffs his sleeves and loosens his tie.

You purse your lips.  “I had tea and cakes this afternoon.”

“When did tea and cakes pass as dinner?”  He drapes his waistcoat on the armrest together with his tie.

You choose not to answer as you have a feeling the question was rhetorical.

Coriolanus rests his arms on his thighs and clasps his hands as the silence lengthens.  Moonlight was emitting a pale glow, it reflected on your faces and everything else was still.

“My father casts a very large shadow.”  He tells you.

You nod.  You both have that in common.  But you do not want to tell him as his case was different.  You are aware of his struggle while growing up, the things he has done that could have tarnished his name, and now, he has become the President, a leader of Panem, and the footsteps that his father left for him to follow might be too large for him.

“I wanted to do everything right.  To do things how he would have done it.  Maybe even more.”

You play with the edges of your book as you listen, afraid that if you’ll talk, his walls will come building itself up again.

“He was not the best father.  Nor husband.”  He chuckles bitterly.  “I was sure, I would be just like him too.”

You bite your lip as you will yourself not to cry in front of him.

“But I enjoy your company, wife.”  Coriolanus tells you truthfully.  “I love you.”  He confesses, making your chest tighten.  “I do not wish for this marriage to fail.”

You cannot help how a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Come here.”  He commands and you throw yourself to him, sobbing to his chest.  “I am terribly sorry for being a lousy husband.”

Your tears soak his dress shirt as Coriolanus peppers kisses on your head.

“Been neglecting my wife, how awful of me.”  His hand grips on your bum possessively.  “When she should have been worshiped day by day.”  His tone changes ever so slightly into something you hear only inside your bedroom walls.

You do not protest when he lays you on the chaise lounge.  Your sobs turn to sniffles when Coriolanus parts your thighs and bunches your dress until it shows your abdomen.

“Corio.”  You whisper his name like a prayer and he mumbles yours against your skin.  You watch as he plants his lips on your scar.  A scar that you got from taking a bullet for him.

It was not the last time you whispered his name in the dead of the night.

“Your petals always have the sweetest nectar.”  He groans and you feel yourself shy away, hips hiking up and away from him but his arms tighten their hold around your thighs and he looks at you from there, his eyes giving you a silent warning.

“S-sorry-ah!”  You gasp as his tongue darts out to lick the juices off your slit.  His tongue pokes at your pearl and you break eye contact with him when he wraps his lips on your tiny nub.

Coriolanus looks at you with his eyes now lazy but his tongue, the opposite!

He kisses you and in an act of total impulsiveness, starts tracing his name on your clit.  Coriolanus Snow was owning you in every way possible.

He had you reduced to your most carnal self.  Your hands were on his platinum hair, gripping them tightly in your hold, selfishly pulling him in.  Your thighs are resting on his broad shoulders.  And your cunt, it was making a mess on your chaise lounge and on your husband’s face.

Coriolanus groans as he parts your lips so he could kiss your opening.  His thick finger, that you have been craving, sliding on your juices before he plunges it knuckle-deep.  It might have been a mistake on his part given your sensitivity after having to be forced to join him in his self-induced celibacy.  Your lewd mewl brought rouge to his cheeks.

You bring your hands to your mouth to hush yourself and Coriolanus took that as a challenge.  He sits up, sitting on his ankles to press your thigh to your chest as his finger prods at you from the inside.

You are writhing underneath him.  Telling him how good he is making you feel.  Oh, and he reveled in it.  Every sound that comes from your lips, it fueled his desire more and more.

A second finger was added and you shriek from the stretch, it has been a while, he needs to be more gentle!  But Coriolanus cannot help himself when you look so pretty.  Your cheeks wet with tears, eyelashes clumping up, as your hands formed tiny fists.  Any form of his self control has disappeared when you are gushing and pulsating around his fingers.

He knows you’re nearly there, so close!

You pant, closing your eyes as his fingers massaged your walls, coaxing you to climb higher and higher and-

“Coriolanus!”  You yell furiously when he pulls his fingers out.

Your husband grins at you as he wipes his face from your slick.

“I seem to recall that someone was not a very good girl this morning?”  His hands trailed at your hips and you almost tear up from frustration.

He was supposed to be making it up to you!  He had no reason to bring up the events this morning.

In an act of defiance, you huff and you reach your own sex to flick at your clit.  Your fingers are more delicate, making you gasp at the gentle pleasure.

Coriolanus grins as he watches you play with yourself.  Enjoying how you grow more and more frustrated as you cannot give yourself the same pleasure.  You shriek angrily as you pull your fingers away, you slam your tiny feet on the chaise and Coriolanus laughs. 

“Are you done being a brat?”

You are too stubborn to answer but you do not stop him when he maneuvers you until you are on your stomach, you groan softly in discomfort when he pulls your hips so your cunt is presented to him beautifully.

His fingers are prodding your entrance again and you mewl when he pops his tip in.   Coriolanus stays there for a moment as his hands, rough from his time as a peacekeeper, grips on your waist firmly.

“There’ll be no stopping, alright?”  He reminds you.  “We’re done when I say we’re done.”

You lift your head from the plush of the chaise lounge and you give him a nod. 

“Put your head back down, my love.”

You do as he tells you and you brace yourself.

Coriolanus enters you with a sharp thrust, and your whimper is muffled by the cushions.  Your husband thrusts at a steady speed, his eyes watching the impact ripple on your body.

Your breath hitches with every kiss his tip makes on your cervix.  Every slap of his hips against you makes the crudest sound, sending a jolt of arousal through you.  President Snow is a man of the most refined of tastes, the pinnacle of order.  But when he beds you, he is just as raw, just as unrestrained.

“Don’t know why I deprived myself of your wet cunt for so long.”  And his mouth spewing the most vulgar of things.

He uses his weight to push you further in the mattress so he can fuck you deeper.  Your cunt spasms and you moan shakily, almost sobbing.

“Chase it, my love.”  He groans deeply.

And you unravel, lewd sobs spilling from your polished tongue as your back arches, cunt creaming around his cock.

Coriolanus watches you sob, your shoulders shaking as his thrusts do not relent.  His eyes flicker to where your bodies meet, your warm juices are dripping on his taut sack.

“Corio…Corio please!  I don’t think I can anymore….”

“Hm?”  He reaches to grab your chin.  “Thought I told you that we’re only done when I say so?”

You look at him with tears sliding down your cheeks.  You can’t even focus on him, body shuddering when your tummy feels another tight coil.

Coriolanus inhales sharply when he feels the familiar pulsation of your warm softness.

His tip twitches as it bumps your plump cervix.  And when you call his name with your broken voice as you cum, he shoots his seed in you.

“Hah…hah.”  

He is panting from on top of you, his hand placed against your bottom to keep himself up.

Coriolanus gently pulls himself out, watching the gossamer webbing of your arousal on his cock.  He smacks your bum and you tighten your cunt to keep his seed from spilling.  He scoots closer so he is holding you, your back against his chest as your legs tangled together.

The two of you gaze at the moon from the enormous windows of your sunroom.  It was calm again.  Nothing but your heartbeats and the gentle breathing lulling each of you closer to sleep.

“Corio.”  You call his name softly.

He hums in response as he pulls you closer, just needing to feel you against him.

“The people of Panem are not your fucking masters.”

His brows meet and he glances at you, wondering where all of this is coming from.

“They cannot have you always cleaning up their mess like you are some District servant.”

He shifts you so you are facing him now.  His stern brows meet to let you know you are on thin ice.

“You govern your people.  You don’t coddle them.  Let the District officials do their job.  They must learn to solve their own problems and the Capitol Bureaucrats must see to it that they are doing it in ways that align with your judgment.  And you lead them from the top.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

You yawn like the adorable thing you are.  “So Snow lands on top.”

He clicks his tongue smoothly.  “You are only attracted to power.”

“My love.”  You say rather darkly.  “You are power.”

Coriolanus falls silent, contemplating your words, letting himself process it.

He sighs as he looks at you in endearing defeat.  “You just want a vacation, don’t you?”

You fight back a smile as you smack his chest.

“I am being serious, Coriolanus Snow.”

He pulls you closer, teeth glinting as he snickers.  “I understand that, Y/N Snow.”

“Y/N Swansworth-Snow.”  You remind him and he laughs.

“Of course, of course.”

You lean your head on his chest and your cheek soaks his warmth.

“You know, you are not your father, Corio.”

He winces.  “I know…I’m just-”

“You are better.”

That sinks deep in him.

He now understands why there was something in you that pulled him in.  No one in Panem, or in this world, could understand his soul in its most naked form.  You are his stability.  Someone whom he cannot scare away when he is darkest.

Because it seems like you might be exactly just like him.  Just as cruel, just as evil, with no regards to anyone but each other.

And he is fine with that, even if the world is burned to ash around you.

“My love for you is catastrophic.”  Coriolanus murmurs against your skin and you smile as you close your eyes.

You run your finger on his chest.  “And my love for you is all-consuming.”

Coriolanus and you are obsessive, ablazed with reckless passion, villainous in nature, but it is easy to justify when you are both equally drunk with dangerous devotion.

The people of Panem be damned.  

The odds will forever be in your favor.

Hunt for Glory

[felassan]

Edge – The Future of Interactive Entertainment magazine, issue #401 (October 2024 issue) – Dragon Age: The Veilguard story

The rest of this post is under a cut for length.

Update: this issue of this magazine is now available to buy from UK retailers today. it can be purchased online at [this link]. [Tweet from Edge Online] also, Kala found that a digital version of the magazine can be read at [this link].

This post is a word-for-word transcription of the full article on DA:TV in this issue of this magazine. DA:TV is the cover story of this issue. When transcribing, I tried to preserve as much of the formatting from the magazine as possible. Edge talked to BioWare devs for the creation of this article, so the article contains new quotes from the devs. the article is written by Jeremy Peel. There were no new screenshots or images from the game in the article. I also think that it contains a few lil bits of information that are new, like the bits on companions' availability and stumbling across the companions out and about on their own in the world e.g. finding Neve investigating an abduction case in Docktown.

tysm to @simpforsolas and their friend for kindly telling me about the article!!

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[image source]

Article introduction segment:

"[anecdote about Edge] We were reminded of this minuscule episode in Edge's history during the creation of this issue's cover story, in which we discuss the inspiration behind Dragon Age: The Veilguard with its creators at BioWare. Notably, director John Epler remembers the studio experimenting with a number of approaches during the early phase of development before eventually locking in to what the game was supposed to be all along, above all else: 'a single-player, story-focused RPG'. As you'd expect from BioWare, though, that was really just a starting point, as we discovered on p54." BioWare draws back the Veil and ushers us into a new Dragon Age

"BEHIND THE CURTAIN BioWare's first true RPG in age age is as streamlined and pacey as a dragon in flight. By Jeremy Peel Game Dragon Age: The Veilguard Developer BioWare Publisher EA Format PC, PS5, Xbox Series Origin Canada Release Autumn

The Dragon Age universe wasn't born from a big bang or the palm of an ancient god. Instead, it was created to solve a problem. BioWare was tired of battling Hasbro during the making of Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights, and wanted a Dungeons & Dragons-like setting of its own. A small team was instructed to invent a new fantasy world in which the studio could continue its groundbreaking work in the field of western RPGs, free of constraints.

Well, almost free. BioWare's leaders mandated that the makers of this new world stick to Eurocentric fantasy, and include a fireball spell - since studio co-founder Ray Muzyka had a weakness for offensive magic.

Beyond that, BioWare’s storytellers were empowered to infuse Dragon Age with their own voices and influences, leaning away from D&D’s alignment chart and towards a moral grayness that left fans of A Song Of Ice And Fire feeling warm and cozy.

In the two decades since, the world of Thedas – rather infamously and amusingly, a shortening of ‘the Dragon Age setting’ that stuck – has taken on a distinct flavor. It’s something director John Epler believes is rooted in characters.

“There’s definitely some standard fantasy stuff in Dragon Age, but everything in the world, every force, is because of someone,” he says. “The idea is that every group and faction needs to be represented by a person – someone you can relate to. Big political forces are fine as background, but they don’t provide you with those interesting story moments.”

Dragon Age: The Veilguard bears out that philosophy. The long-awaited sequel was first announced with the subtitle Dreadwolf, in reference to its antagonist, Solas – an ancient elf who once stripped his people of immortality as punishment for betraying one of their own. In doing so, Solas created the Veil, the thin barrier through which wizards pull spirits and demons invade the waking world. In other words, many of Dragon Age’s defining features, from its downtrodden elves to the uneasy relationship between mages and a fearful church, can be traced right back to one character’s decision.

“The world exists as it does because of Solas,” Epler says. “He shaped the world because of the kind of character he was. That’s, to me, what makes Dragon Age so interesting. Everything can tie back to a person who to some degree thought they were doing the right thing.”

Perhaps BioWare’s greatest achievement in slowburn character development, Solas is a former companion, an unexploded bomb who sat in the starting party of Dragon Age: Inquisition, introverted and useful enough to get by without suspicion. Yet by the time credits rolled around on the Trespasser DLC, players were left in no doubt as to the threat he presented.

Determined to reverse the damage he once caused, the Dreadwolf intends to pull down the Veil, destroying Thedas as we know it in the process. The next Dragon Age game was always intended to be his story.

“We set that up at the end of Trespasser,” Epler says. “There was no world where we were ever going to say, ‘And now let’s go to something completely different.’ We wanted to pay off that promise.”

Yet almost everything else about the fourth Dragon Age appears to have been in flux at one time. In 2019, reporter Jason Schreier revealed that an early version, starring a group of spies pulling off heists in the Tevinter Imperium, had been cancelled two years prior. Most of its staff were apparently moved onto BioWare’s struggling Anthem, while a tiny team rebooted Dragon Age from scratch. That new game was said to experiment with live-service components.

“We tried a bunch of different ideas early on,” Epler says. “But the form The Veilguard has taken is, in a lot of ways, the form that we were always pushing towards. We were just trying different ways to get there. There was that moment where we really settled on, ‘This is a singleplayer, story-focused RPG – and that’s all it needs to be’”.

Epler imagines a block of marble, from which BioWare was attempting to carve an elephant – a character- and story-driven game. “We were chipping away, and sometimes it looked more like an elephant and sometimes it didn’t”, he says. “And then we eventually realized: ‘Just make an elephant’. When we got to that, it almost just took shape by itself.”

2014’s Dragon Age: Inquisition was an open-world game commonly criticized for a slow-paced starting area which distracted players from the thrust of the plot. The Veilguard, in contrast, is mission-based, constructed with tighter, bespoke environments designed around its main story and cast. “We wanted to build a crafted, curated experience for the player,” Epler says. “Pacing is important to us, and making sure that the story stays front and center.”

Epler is very proud of Inquisition, the game on which he graduated from cinematic designer to a lead role (for its DLC). “But one of the things that we ran into on that project was an absentee antagonist,” he says. “Corypheus showed up and then disappeared. You spent ten hours in the Hinterland doing sidequests, and there wasn’t that sense of urgency.”

This time, The Veilguard team wants you to constantly feel the sword of Damocles dangling above your head as you play – a sense that the end of the world is coming if you don’t act. “There’s still exploration – there’s still the ability to go into some of these larger spaces and go off the beaten path to do sidequests,” Epler says. “But there’s always something in the story propelling you and the action forward, and allowing you to make decisions with these characters where the stakes feel a lot more immediate and present. And also, honestly, more real.”

No sooner have you finished character creation than Dragon Age: The Veilguard thrusts you into a choice. As your protagonist, Rook, steps into focus on the doorstep of the seediest bar in town, you decide whether to threaten the owner for information or make a deal. Brawl or no, you’ll walk out minutes later with a lead: the location of a private investigator named Neve Gallus, who can help you track down Solas.

You proceed into Minrathous, the largest city in Thedas and capital of the Tevinter Imperium – a region only alluded to in other Dragon Age games. It’s a place built on the backs of slaves and great mages, resulting in tiered palaces and floating spires – a kind of architecture unimaginable to those in the southern nations.

“When your Dragon Age: Inquisition companion Dorian joins you in Orlais, in one of the biggest cities in Thedas, he mentions that it’s quaint and cute compared to Minrathous,” Corinne Busche, game director on The Veilguard, says. “That one bit of dialogue was our guiding principle on how to realize this city. It is sprawling. It is lived-in. Sometimes it’s grimy, sometimes it’s bougie. But it is expansive.”

Immediately, you can see the impact of BioWare’s decision to tighten its focus. Around every other corner in Minrathous is an exquisitely framed view, a level of spectacle you would never see in Inquisition, where resources were spread much more thinly. “When you know that you’re gonna be heading down a canyon or into this plaza where the buildings open up, you have those perfect spots to put a nice big temple of Andraste or a mage tower,” art director Matthew Rhodes says. “You get those opportunities to really hit that hard.”

BioWare’s intention is to make strong visual statements that deliver on decades of worldbuilding. “People who have a history with Dragon Age have thought about what Minrathous might be like,” Rhodes says. “We can never compete with their imagination, but we can aim for it like we’re shooting for the Moon.”

The people of Tevinter use magic as it if were electricity, as evidenced by the glowing sigils that adorn the dark buildings – street signs evoking Osaka’s riverfront or the LA of Blade Runner. They’re just one of the tricks BioWare’s art team uses to invite you to stop and take in the scene. “A lot of what you start to notice when you’re the artist who���s been working on these big, beautiful vistas and neat murals on the walls is how few players look up,” Rhodes says. “We design props and architecture that help lead the eyes.”

For the really dedicated shoegazers, BioWare has invested in ray-traced reflections, so that the neon signage can be appreciated in the puddles. There are also metal grates through which you can see the storm drains below. “The idea behind that is purely just to remind the player often of how stacked the city is,” Rhodes says. “Wherever you’re standing, there’s guaranteed to be more below you and above you.”

One of BioWare’s core creative principles for The Veilguard is to create a world that’s actually worth saving – somewhere you can imagine wanting to stick around in, once the crises of the main quest are over. To that end, the team has looked to ground its outlandish environments with elements of mundanity.

“A guy’s normal everyday life walking down the streets of this city is more spectacular than what the queen of Orlais is seeing, at least in terms of sheer scale," Rhodes says. “One of the things we’ve tried to strike a balance with is that this is actually still a place where people have to go to the market and buy bread, raise their kids, and try to make it. It’s a grand and magical city, but how do you get your horses from one place to the next? Where do you load the barrels for the tavern? It’s really fun to think of those things simultaneously.”

Normal life in Minrathous is not yours to behold for long, however. Within a couple of minutes of your arrival, the very air is ripped open like cheap drapes, and flaming demons clatter through the merchant carts that line the city streets. A terrible magical ritual, through which Solas intends to stitch together a new reality, has begun.

“We wanted the prologue to feel like the finale of any other game we’ve done,” Busche explains. “Where it puts you right into this media-res attack on a city and gets you really invested in the action and the story right away. When I think back to Inquisition, how the sky was literally tearing open – the impact of this ritual really makes that look like a minor inconvenience.”

Our hero is confronted by a Pride demon, imposing and armored as in previous games, yet accented by exposed, bright lines that seem to burst from its ribcage. “They are a creature of raw negative emotion,” Busche says. “So we wanted to actually incorporate that into their visual design with this glowing nervous system.”

When a pack of smaller demons blocks Rook’s route to the plaza where Neve was last seen, battle breaks out, and The Veilguard’s greatest divergence from previous Dragon Age games becomes apparent. Our rogue protagonist flits between targets up close and evades individual sword swings with precision. In the chaos, he swaps back and forth between blades and a bow. He blends light and heavy attacks, and takes advantage of any gap in the melee to charge up even bigger blows.

“Responsiveness was our first-and-foremost goal with this baseline layer of the combat system,” Busche says. Unless you’re activating a high-risk, high-reward ability such as a charged attack, any action can be animation-cancelled, allowing you to abort a sword swing and dive away if an enemy lunges too close. “We very much wanted you to feel like you exist in this space, as you’re going through these really crafted, hand-touched worlds,” Busche says. “That you’re on the ground in control of every action, every block, every dodge.” Anyone who’s ever bounced off a Soulslike needn’t worry: The Veilguard’s highly customizable difficulty settings enable you to loosen up parry windows if they prove too demanding.

Gone is the overhead tactical camera which, for some players, was a crucial point of connection between Dragon Age and the Baldur’s Gate games that came before, tapping into a lineage of thoughtful, tabletop-inspired combat. Epler points out that the camera’s prior inclusion had an enormous impact on where the game’s battles took place. “We actually had a mandate on Inquisition, which was, ‘Don’t fight inside,’” he says. “The amount of extra work on getting that tactical camera to work in a lot of those internal environments, it was very challenging.”

Gone, too, is the ability to steer your comrades directly. “On the experiential side, we wanted you to feel like you are Rook – you’re in this world, you’re really focused on your actions,” Busche says. “We very much wanted the companions to feel like they, as fully realized characters, are in control of their own actions. They make their own decisions. You, as the leader of this crew, can influence and direct and command them, but they are their own people.”

It's an idea with merit, albeit one that could be read as spin. “It’s not lost on me,” Busche says. “I will admit that, on paper, if you just read that you have no ability to control your companions, it might feel like something was taken away. But in our testing and validating with players, what we find is they’re more engaged than ever.”

There may be a couple of reasons for that. One is that Dragon Age’s newly dynamic action leaves little room for seconds spent swapping between perspectives. “This is a much higher actions-per-minute game,” Busche says. “It is more technically demanding on the player. So when we tried allowing you full control of your companions as well, what we’ve found is it wasn’t actually adding to the experience. In fact, in some ways it was detrimental, given the demanding nature of just controlling your own character.”

Then there’s The Veilguard’s own tactical layer, as described by BioWare. Though the fighting might be faster and lower, like a mana-fuelled sports scar, the studio is keen to stress that the pause button remains as important to the action as ever. This is, according to Busche, where the RPG depth shines through, as you evaluate the targets you’re facing and take their buffs into account: “Matching elemental types against weaknesses and resistances is a big key to success in this game.”

You pick between rogue, warrior and mage – each role later splitting again into deeper specialisms – and draw from a class-specific resource during fights. A rogue relies on Momentum, which is built up by avoiding damage and being highly aggressive, whereas a warrior is rewarded for blocking, parrying, and mitigating damage.

Those resources are then used on the ability wheel, which pauses the game and allows you to consider your options. The bottom quadrant of the wheel belongs to your character, and is where three primary abilities will be housed. “Rook will also have access to runes, which function as an ability, and a special ultimate ability,” Busche says. “So you’re bringing five distinct abilities with you into combat.”

The sections to the left and right of the wheel, meanwhile, are dedicated to your companions. Busche points to Lace Harding, the returning rogue from Inquisition, who is currently frozen mid-jump. “She is her own realized individual in this game. She’s got her own behaviors: how she prioritizes targets, whether she gets up close and draws aggro or stays farther back at range. But you’ll be able to direct her in combat by activating her abilities from the wheel.”

These abilities are complemented by positional options at the top of the wheel, where you can instruct your companions to focus their efforts on specific targets, either together or individually. Doing so will activate the various buffs, debuffs and damage enhancements inherent in their weapons and gear. “So,” Busche explains, “as you progress through the first two hours of the game, this full ability wheel is completely populated with a variety of options and different tactics that you can then string together.”

BioWare has leaned into combos. You might tell one companion to unleash a gravity-well effect that gathers enemies together, then have another slow time. Finally, you could drop an AOE attack on your clustered and slowed opponents, dealing maximum damage. The interface will let you know when an opportunity to blend two companion abilities emerges – moments BioWare has dubbed ‘combo detonations’.

“I like to think about this strategic layer to combat as a huddle,” Busche says, “where you’re figuring out how you want to handle the situation, based on the information you have on the encounter, and how you and your companions synergize together.”

Deeper into the game, as encounters get more challenging, Epler says we’ll be spending a lot of time making “very specific and very focused tactical decisions”. The proof will be in eating the Fereldan fluffy mackerel pudding, of course, but Busche insists this shift to fast action isn’t a simplification. “What really makes the combat system and indeed the extension into the progression system work is that pause-and-play tactical element that we know our players expect.”

The autonomy of The Veilguard’s companions doesn’t end with combat. BioWare’s data shows that in previous games players tended to stick with the same two or three beloved comrades during a playthrough. This time, however, you’ll be forced to mix your squad up at regular intervals.

“We do expect that players will have favorites they typically want to adventure with,” Busche says, “but sometimes certain companions will be mandatory.” Others may not always be available – part of the studio’s effort to convince with three-dimensional characters. “They do have a life outside of Rook, the main character,” Busche says.

"They'll fall in love with people in this world. They’ve had past experiences they’ll share with you if you allow them in and get close to them.”

Being separated from your companions, rather than collecting them all in a kind of stasis at camp, allows you to stumble across them unexpectedly. Busche describes an instance in which, while exploring the Docktown section of Minrathous, you might bump into Neve as she investigates an abduction case. “If I go and interact with her, I can actually stop what I’m doing, pick up her arc and adventure with her throughout her part of the story,” Busche says. “What’s interesting is that all of the companion arcs do ultimately tie back to the themes of the main critical path, but they also have their own unique challenges and villains, and take place over the course of many different intimate moments.”

Some parts of a companion’s quest arc involve combat, while others don’t. Some are made up of large and meaningful missions – as lavish and involved as those along the critical path. “While they are optional, I would be hesitant to call them side content in this game,” Busche says. If you choose not to engage with some of these companion-centered events, they’ll resolve on their own. “And it might have interesting implications.”

The Veilguard promises plenty of change, then, even as it picks up the threads of fan-favorite characters and deepens them, honoring the decades of worldbuilding that came before it. This is perhaps the enduring and alluring paradox of Dragon Age: a beloved series which has never had a direct and immediate sequel, nor a recurring protagonist. Instead, it’s been reinvented with each new entry.

“It’s a mixed blessing to some degree,” Epler says. “The upside is always that it gives us more room to experiment and to try new things. There are parts of the series that are common to every game: it’s always an RPG, it’s always about characters, and we always want to have that strategic tactical combat where you’re forced to make challenging decisions. But at the end of the day, I think what makes Dragon Age Dragon Age is that each one feels a little bit different.”"

Q&A Matthew Rhodes Art director

Q. Early BioWare RPGs were literary, with the emotions and detail mostly happening in dialogue boxes. How have you seen the studio's approach to visual storytelling evolve? A. This has been my entire career. When I first showed up at BioWare, it was at the tail end of Jade Empire, and then I was working on Dragon Age: Origins and early Mass Effect. The games had taken that next step out of sprites and 2D models, and it was like: 'How do we say more? How do we communicate more clearly?' During those early days, a lot of games depended on words to fix everything for you. As long as your character was talking bombastically, you could lend them everything that they needed. But as time went on it also became a visual medium, and it's been this long journey of trying to establish art's seat at the table. I've worked with some great writers over the years, and art is also an essential part of the storytelling. From Dragon Age: Inquisition on, I've been trying to stress with my teams that we are a story department.

Q. Is part of that also letting writers know that your storytelling assistance is available, to help them show rather than tell? A. On The Veilguard, that principle has been operating the best I've seen it. Where you would need a paragraph of dialogue in one of those exposition moments where a character just talks to you, we could sell that with a broken statue or a skeleton overgrown with vines. We've had more opportunities to do that on The Veilguard than most of the projects I've ever worked on combined.

To a hammer, every problem looks like a nail, and so in every department, writing will try to solve it with more words, and art will try to solve it with more art. I've bumped up against moments where it's like, 'As much as we could keep hammering on this design, I think this is actually an audio solution.' And then you take it to audio, and you don't get that overcooked feeling where each team is just trying to solve it in their silo. It's a really creatively charged kind of environment.

[main body of article ends here]

Additional from throughout the article --

Image caption: “Spotlights shine down from the city guards’ base as they pursue you through the streets of Minrathous.”

Image caption: “While most of your companions can be sorted into comfortingly familiar RPG classes, The Veilguard introduces two new varieties: a Veil Jumper and a private investigator.”"

Image caption [on this Solas ritual concept art specifically]: “The name previously given to the game – Dreadwolf – was a direct reference to Solas. Your former companion, now on his own destructive mission, still features, despite the name change.”

Text in a side box:

"RATIONAL ANTHEM The hard lesson BioWare drew from Anthem was to play to its strengths. “We’re a studio that has always been built around digging deep on storytelling and roleplaying,” Epler says. “I’m proud of a lot of things on Anthem – I was on that project for a year and a half. But at the end of the day we were building a game focused on something we were not necessarily as proficient at. For me and for the team, the biggest lesson was to know what you’re good at and then double down on it. Don’t spread yourselves too thin. Don’t try to do a bunch of different things you don’t have the expertise to do. A lot of the people on this team came here to build a story-focused, singleplayer RPG."

Image caption: “In combat you no longer control your companions directly – this is a faster-paced form of fighting – but you are able to direct them in combat, and can even blend their abilities in ‘combo detonations’.”

Image caption: “You’ll be exploring new regions across Tevinter and beyond – Rivain is a certainty, and that’s only accessible via Antiva travelling overland.”

Image caption: “There are three specializations per character class; on the way to unlocking them you’ll acquire a range of abilities.”

Text in a side box:

"MEET YOUR MAKER “Full disclosure: Dragon Age has traditionally not done skin tones well, especially for people of color,” Busche says. “We wanted to do a make-good here.” In The Veilguard’s character creator, you can adjust the amount of melanin that comes through in the skin, as well as test various lighting scenarios to ensure your protagonist looks exactly as you intend in cutscenes. “Speaking of our first creative principle – be who you want to be – we really feel these are the kinds of features that unlock that for our players,” Busche says. “We want everyone to be able to see themselves in this game.” For the first time in the series, your body type is fully customizable too, with animations, armor and even romantic scenes reflecting your choices."

Image caption: “Your companions are a mix of old and new – Lace Harding is a familiar face. Veil Jumper Bellara is new, with a new occupation, while Davrin is a new face with a familiar profession – he’s a Warden.”

Image caption: "Arlathan Forest is home to the ruined city of the elves, now a place of wild magic, Veil Jumpers and (allegedly) spirits".

Image caption: "Bellara is driven by a desire to learn more about the elves, rediscovering the shattered history and magic of her people."

[source: Edge – The Future of Interactive Entertainment magazine, issue #401 (October 2024 issue) - it can be purchased online at [this link].]

[seirindono]

TMS - Author's note (Arc 1)

Today I'm stepping up to talk about TMS for a while. It's going to be a lot of blah blah, no TLDR, so hang in there or save it for later if you're brave enough, haha (¯▿¯)

So, another chapter of TMS draws to a close, with the difference that this time it's a whole saga that's coming to an end! That's a big relief for me, given that we recently celebrated the comic's 4th anniversary! That's almost the entire duration of my college life, and that's both an impressive and terrifying achievement lol.

The comic is divided into 3 arcs, each separated by an interlude. The first runs from part 1 to 8, with 201 pages total (wow!). In it, you are introduced to Mel, a young skeleton with a rather unclear past, who accidentally arrives in a a foreign timeline, along with other well known skeletons. Nowadays it's just an isekai haha. Throughout the arc, she proves to be a cautious Monster, quiet and somewhat withdrawn compared to the other skeletons we come across, notably Rus, Blue and Axe, who each got their own sequences.

Still, Mel in the last few scenes is starting to show more initiative, and the interlude will make this even more obvious, but we can expect her to open up a lot more during the next Arc, about her past, motives, goals and thoughts.

I could go on at length about what's in store for us in the interlude, but given that it's due for release sometime in 2024, I'm going to talk about the general story line instead. Although we follow Mel who is foreign to what's going on in this universe prior to her arrival, the other characters and events suggest that strange phenomena are taking place in Ebott, leading many people to become embroiled in a highly unusual affair. Crossing timelines, earthquakes, mysterious apparitions in the forest, something is afoot and the situation seems to be at a turning point when Mellow gets here.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with the situation and what to do next. Some are serious and pragmatic, like Black, others optimistic, like Blue, and others, like Papyrus, find themselves completely backed into a corner, forced to do their best to fix whatever needs to be.

A special case, however, is Axe, whom Mel meets in the forest as she investigates Mt. Ebott. The two have diametrically opposed views of their current condition. One wants to return to her world by any means necessary, regardless of the advantages of a peaceful world. The other, not so much. Both refuse to talk about their past and ignore the other's circumstances, but a sense of familiarity drives them to try to convince the other to stay or go. These are two stark positions to reconcile, and while we can expect Blue and the other skeletons to have their own views on the subject too, Mel and Axe are strangely "committed" in this interraction and resort to violence, spurred on by a unknown substance that causes Axe to momentarily lose control.

Mel is wounded, Axe unconscious, and the status quo disrupted. Other consequences follow this confrontation, and several questions are raised: Can Blue really help Mel when Axe accuses him of having already given up on going home himself? What is this mysterious entity Axe came across a few days earlier? The vibrations? What was that substance that made him go berserk? And what made him stop? Can we trust Mel and what she tells us? And many others.

Because as I'm sure many of you have come to realize, Mel has proven to be a rather unreliable narrator (or at least character since you don't follow her actual POV). Blatantly lying or omitting facts to others and readers alike, it's hard to know her next move and whether she's genuinely forgotten important infos (for it's well established at this stage that she has hazy memories and that they continue to deteriorate. The same applies to her health).

In the same way, each part of TMS so far has raised more questions than it has answered, but I can confidently say that the road is paved for Arc 2 to answer and put in perspective most of them, ahah.

Ah, this is also the moment when I can announce that ALL skeletons will be featured in the Interlude. Should be. Hopefully.

I'd also like to point out a few narrative changes for Act 2! The central characters, in particular. Original cast characters such as Undyne, Metatton and a veiled character will be more formally introduced, but we'll also meet up with characters we've already bumped into, but in a much more concrete way, such as Frisk and Alphys. I can't wait for you to get to know them! You can also expect more pov changes, more elipses and so on. Things are moving fast.

But that begs the question. When is it due? As said before, the first Arc lasted 4 years and I'm entering my last (and most crucial) year of college. I still don't know if I'll have time to get much of it done in 2025, but on the other hand, I'd like to strike while the iron's hot lest TMS be discontinued after a 1-year hiatus and my entry into the working world. Student loan, life and all. There are still plenty of things I'd like to bring to this project, and I now have the skills to actually carry them out, but on the other hand, the time involved has also increased exponentially.

Tbh with you, as an animation student, it's been one of my dreams since 2020 to do one of TMS's sequences in animatic or full anim, or even a trailer for the comic! But as a solo team, it's just unreasonable and I know it. But the parasite ----. Don't get me wrong, I could, but it would take me months and it's just not realistic when 80% of my time has to go into professionnal work that goes into my portefolio or adult stuff. I can't affort to invest time in solo-ing it or to recruit and lead a team over one side project of mine ( ´ ▿ ` ) So we'll most likely stick to classic pages.

But the same goes for collabs, community events, side stories, asks, edits, dubs, testing other platforms, regular animatics. Love all of that. Really. But I never have the time to because, man, I'd love to actually finish TMS someday ahah. It all comes back to the age-old problem of “lots of ideas, little time”, and it's so frustrating but, it's a choice I have to stick to, so bear with me as I vent my frustration. Just for tonight (´ ∀ `, *)

So, yes. Act 2. Next year? Probably? It's a long interlude, so you'll get smth in the meantime, but it's likely to decide the future of TMS and whether Act 2 sees the light of day as I imagine it or if...well, something else replaces it.

bringing back this doodle cuz it seems fiting lol

Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for your engagement with Part 8!

I don't know how other comic artists experience it, but for me it's a very isolated work, and as much as I love working alone, I enjoy the interaction with readers most of all.

Seeing people losing their mind over a serious scene, or chuckling at a dumb gag, or just simping over the characters and art. It's just great, and very rewarding. Likewise, I have a blast answering questions about the TMS universe, reading tags and receiving memes, witnessing people go increasingly mad with messages full of indecipherable screams and hearts. Makes me giggle and kick my feet everytime and I can't wait to drop the next lore bomb or funny scene bwahahah

And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a special word of thanks to the legions of rebloggers who make it their business to spread the word about TMS. You sweet, lovely, candy scented folks. And to my dear mutuals - with whom I interact objectively so little - who have no idea how a single message or note from them drives me bonkers. Thanks for dropping by. And of course to my super Patreons who support me despite the sparse updates, but to whom I'm more than grateful. Love you all.

Sounds like a farewell message. It's not lol. Just making sure they get the love they deserve.

The post is getting long and I'm kind of done pretending I know how to write organized notes so to wrap things up, here's an exhaustive list of what I'd like to get done this year and/or discuss in more detail another day. •Make a new masterpost (for Act 2) •Analyze/Comment certain sequences from Act 1 to clarify or give context •Redraw and rewrite part 1 and 2 •Make more bonus content again *ahahahahahaha*

•Re open or close the Discord (partially abandoned and it's all on me, but I'm still mulling it over).

•Finish the Interlude and enjoy and nice hiatus

And that's about it? Congratulation for reading this and making it this far! You were there!

Be well, and see you next time.

Seirin-

First part | Prev | Next (INTERLUDE)

Ko-fi | Patreon | Comic | Commissions  | To support the comic

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Itchio Beta Update January 30th 2025

You can now get a much more polished version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on itch.io! Payment is optional, but greatly appreciated!

I’m proud of this update despite it not really being quite as extensive as I would’ve liked it to be considering the three months in between the last big public update and now, but as if my some act of God, nearly every single member of our team had some kind of personal life issue (moving, illness, etc.) across all of November and December, which really slowed down our progress on Eureka. We were back full steam ahead in January, and that allowed us to at least push one really big improvement through in time for this update: The mystery-writing guide.

It was important to me to release a big public update this month because January 2025 is when we stated on the Kickstarter that Eureka would be releasing. Well, underestimation and unexpected complications have meant that the game isn’t finished yet as of January 2025, but this big update that you can download and play is us making up for that at least partially, it shows our fans that even though we haven’t met our deadline, we haven’t been slacking off, and we do have a lot to show for it.

In addition to new art, new traits, and rules clarifications, the Eureka rulebook now sports an in-depth mystery writing guide. This comes just in time for those of you participating in our mystery module game jam. (Sign-ups are open now, submissions are open from March to April of 2025.)

In addition to a rulebook update, we have released two previously patron-exclusive Eureka mystery modules, “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game.” You can find them at this link here. Payment is optional but highly appreciated!

Patreon updates will continue monthly as we work steadily on the project.

Oh and one more thing before we get to the full changelog. As many of you know, we run a “TTRPG Book Club” where the club votes on games to play and then splits off into groups to play them (it’s very schedule-flexible), and discusses them as we go. Well, at the time of writing this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is currently in the lead, which means we are very likely to be playing that next. Join the book club during the sign-up period in the next couple of weeks if you want to play Eureka and discuss it with the developers!

Here’s the full changelog!

Copy-editing Progress: Thoroughly copy-edited up to p. 302. Half-ass copy-edited up to p. 322.

We also released Eureka adventure modules “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game” into free beta on itch.io. Scroll up to find the link and a game jam!

WHOLE BOOK

CHAPTER 1 

Better clarified Unconsciousness. 

Better clarified the penalty negation of Grievous Wounds, gave guidelines for what aid may negate what Grievous Wounds, and made it so that these aids can stack to a penalty negation of up to 4.

Edited and simplified the travel time math when using Ticks.

Worsened penalty for using Medicine on oneself from -1 to -2.

Added some quick fix patches to the Assistance Roll section to make it more clear when Assistance Rolls should and should not be allowed. May end up completely rewriting some parts of this section in the near future to make it so that the divide is less based on Investigative vs Non-Investigative, but instead provide clearer stipulations. One potential issue is we really have to be careful not to write the rules so that every character assisting with every Investigative Roll is the optimal strategy, because that would make the game less fun. 

CHAPTER 2

New Traits: The Truth Comes Out, Poser

Buffed Believer Trait

Nerfed I’m Okay, You’re Okay Trait

Un-Nerfed I’m Okay, You’re Okay Trait

Made vampires and characters with the Arithmomaniac Trait immune to the “Click” Woo Roll effect

Added Crutches to Item List

More art has been added

Buffed Elementary! Trait

Buffed The Ascot Trait 

Buffed The Other Trait 

Buffed Poser Trait

Added Nobody’s Fool Trait 

Added That’s No Way to Feel Trait

Made some clarifications on Tiers of Fear

Made it so there is a flat PM penalty for investigators that are living out of their vehicles. 

Added RVs/campers/trailers to Homes

Lowered the PM of vans and SUVs

Moved Police from Optional to Mandatory on Tiers of Fear

CHAPTER 3

Added a Compromise Armor attack that is also a Movement and can only be done starting from a Grab

More art has been added

CHAPTER 7

Added “How to Write a Mystery” section, a big step-by-step guide on how to write your very own Eureka mystery module. 

Added “Starting an Adventure with Disaster” section

Added more guidelines for Eureka’s tone, setting, and lore.

CHAPTER 8 

Made it so fairies have to make a reflexes roll to be able to spirit away people with extremely brief contact. 

Better clarified some other things about Spiriting Away and “voluntary” skin-to-skin contact.

Added that a Potion of Healing can also cure non-chronic disease. 

Added that more potions than just the curse potions can be made curative by adding an extra Table 3 ingredient, and that curative potions can be bought with WP just like other potions. 

Clarified that gorgons can’t eat rocks.

Clarified that advanced curses can override each other.

Changed Monsters Eating Monsters section to Monsters vs Monsters and made it a more generalized section about all kinds of edge cases that might come up when monsters interact with each other. The section is kind of disorganized right now but will be cleaned up in copy-editing. 

Clarified that all wolfmen have a human form as one of their three forms.

Redid the hunting tables and added the tables for the Bar/Nightclub, Gay Bar/Nightclub, and Gaming/Hobby Store. They are not fully complete but they are at least functional at this time. 

Vampires now have a chance to start partially phasing through objects when they are at 0 Composure.

Changed the standard Stealth bonus vampires have at max Composure from +3 to +2.

Adjusted the mechanics for how to permanently “kill” a vampire. 

More art has been added

Buffed Learning by Example TFB Ability 

Clarified fairies taking voices 

Clarified the animal options for the Curse of Transformation

[leggerefiore]

cw: 18+ content, afab reader, breeding kink, talk of pregnancy, Volo being himself

pairing: Volo/Reader

Minors DNI

You groaned as you were pushed against the sheets of the futon. Pleasure coursed through your veins like a liquid electricity. Everything felt like far too distant from you while also being all-consuming. Your thighs were wrapped around the waist of the merchant as he drilled into you. His expression was intense – Grey eyes entirely focused on you as his long hair hung down almost like a veil. His bun had come undone somewhere in the mess.

Why had he come here? You had not expected to see him ever again after the situation on Mount Coronet. In fact, you had been quite sure that he despised you, yet here he was fucking you senseless. A cry left your throat, but his hand came to silence you – Not wanting anyone to hear and come investigate. You weakly tried to pull away his hand, but his strength was something else. Your walls clamped down on him as his dick hit your cervix. He grinned down at you maliciously. The pounding of your heart in your chest was maddening. He brought his other hand to rest on your lower abdomen – right above a certain organ. You swallowed.

“… You have taken everything from me,” his voice was low and ominous – a hint of strain was present. “You wanted to make up, right? You begged me not to go. Well, I have a way you can make it up to me, chosen one.” The pleasure mixed strangely with the apprehensive terror in your veins. “I don't want the blood of the ancient people of Sinnoh to end.” His thrusts felt so meaningful now, and his hand massaged your womb. You swallowed dryly despite the drool escaping out the corner of your mouth. “You'll help me, right? Didn't you want to help me?” Every rut of his hip into you made drew more and more pleasure out of you. Your hands grasped onto his arm. His hand was still over your mouth.

A chuckle left him as you tightened around him even more at these words. Part of you wanted to deny his claims, but… But you could not deny what you felt for the blond. Despite everything… Despite the manipulation and even attack on your life – You loved Volo. You wanted Volo. Having a family with him… You managed finally to get his hand off your mouth.

“P-please, Volo!” you begged. His eyes narrowed. Apparently, he wanted to hear more than a simple plea. His thrusts slowed, and you shook your head. You were so close. “G-give me a baby,” the words felt strange leaving your lips – you really should just hate him. “I-I'll help continue your bloodline!” Suddenly, his hips slammed against your own harshly. His hand took your wrists and pinned them above your head as he fucked into you harshly. The hand previously massaging you came to rub your clit with some expert knowledge – driving you further to the edge. A tight coil spun into something painful before finally snapping. You came with a loud cry.

Yet, Volo's cruelty apparently knew no bounds as he kept his harsh pace to fuck you through your orgasm. Writhing under him, your toes curled painfully. He watched your reactions with a malicious intent, clearly enjoying overstimulating you. Your cries and moans were nothing but a precious song to him. Yet, he was still a human. Volo found himself hitting you with one final thrust before cumming deep inside of you, cock head pressed flush to your womb. The warmth inside of you made your body shake.

He laid atop you for a moment. Both of you a pile of limbs and panting breaths. Your freed arms came to wrap around his neck, holding him tightly. Despite everything – You really loved him. Genuinely. It was painful. Whenever he finally regained himself, you half expected him to raise up and leave you to never show his face again.

Yet, that was not what followed. With him still buried inside you, you felt his cock begin to harden again. Grey eyes stared down at you intensely.

“… We have to make certain, no?” His hands came to hold your hips. You swallowed. It seemed your night would be long and exhausting.

Volo had no intention of leaving you.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's trailer...

SPECIAL EDITION: REACTION + ANALYSIS

[spoilers below cut]

REACTION

I just came out of a midterm exam and omg chat... i'm terrified. i'm not ok. but GOLLY I NEED TO KNOW

it may be a trailer, I don't mind it tho I'll take it! it's more nourishment for my lil theorist brain (and lowkey need a nap lol). alright,

3... 2... 1... LET'S-A GO

(the following is my live reaction:)

oh no.... team, don't do this to me...

no.... *head in hands* they were so happy like this man....

alright who wants to go commit war crimes with me

karen.....

OH, is this immediately after the last episode?

GO KAREN GO

SHE GOT MOVES

the fact that she's able to keep up with Mr. WPNZ arm, that's impressive

OHOHOH IT'S THE TEASER, IT'S THAT ONE

oh god I almost fell out of my chair

ARE WE GETTING THE SHADOW REVEAL? ARE WE? FOR THE LOVE OF SPAGHETTI GODS, PLEASE

augh he really took a bunch of pictures 😨 sorry but wpnz is just a creep i can't

that damn walkie-talkie.....

...y'know that's mr wpnz, right? oh ik, but I can still hate this inanimate object

even more pictures.... please shadow reveal

you can just SEE the desperation in her face

OH SHIT WE GOT EYES

...wtf is he wearing on his head? lmao

lowkey he gives me eel vibes y'know?

OH MY GOD KAREN

ARE YOU OK?! YOU JUST GOT HIT BY A CAR, EVEN THE DRIVER'S CONCERNED!

everyone's getting hurt in this arc, first 4 and now her (more reason for her to not face WPNZ alone)

She built different to walk it off and continue on, geez (girl we're still getting you to go see a doctor)

it remind me of that one scene from SpyXFamily, ifykyk

don't think you can have these flashing images and not expect me to go frame-by-frame, team. I'll get into it afterward, but first-watch is a first-watch

This trailer format reminds me so much of the WOTFI trailer (the running, barging through the door, facing the antagonist, etc.)

IS IT TIME?

....pizza? *flashbacks* (what? I'll get into it, promise)

don't cut if off there. please don't.

....okay. ik it's supposed to be headgear and we expect to have a face reveal, but. for a split second. i thought the headgear was his head.

I KNOW I KNOW. don't come at me. I was gonna be like "did karen date literally a gun?!" yeah yeah ik

remember chat *points at sign*:

in all fairness, i did have to do a 3-hour midterm before this. my 2 brain cells? gone

anyway, face reveal?

*points at screen* OHOHOHOH

fuck i'm falling off of my chair again

WE GOT A FACE

is this like the third confirmation that he's the dad? i mean, what else can you say to debunk that?

IS IT TIME?

YES WE GOT A FACE (he seriously wouldn't have fit in that picture)

his design is actually pretty cool, it's giving a mix of Sunset Paradise and Gaslight District style. Honestly, it's unique to the show and I'm all for it! No one, and I mean no one, expected this design. Bravo, Team. you got us good

(he has a punchable face 😊)

DON'T END IT THERE

oh, "Silence of the Cats" ok Team, you really want me to investigate huh

NEXT WEEK?! OH MAN

I'm letting the Team cook with this movie bc holy shit, but man. Put me in a coma, let me time travel to that day bc i NEED this movie now

anyway, can we give a round of applause to the Team for this trailer? This has been phenomenal 👏👏👏

ANALYSIS

THE TRAILER

Theorist Ink has entered the chat, and it's time to take this frame by frame. Now, to get it out of the way, the teasers and trailers do not correlate to the canon (and potential) plot directly. I'm aware that it's not, but I do analyze them regardless only bc they still provide information. Not point to point but something and, as I always said, something is better than nothing. Are we good? Good, then let's get to it:

The composition of this trailer is absolutely brilliant, props to the Team honestly. Take, for example, the juxtaposition between these two scenes:

Look at the first one. It's warm and cozy with such warm colors, the placement of the chairs and dinnerware arranged to feel tender. The table was neatly set, and plenty of home-cooked food for Karen and her kids. Speaking of the family, look how they are placed. Karen may be the head of the household but her kids are just as important at the table, even her chair is within her kids.

Then there's the second one. It's cold and eerie with a single light shining down on the table. Solitary. Notice how all that is on the table is pizza. No water, no napkins, no appetizers. Not even a pizza box! Just a single slice on their plate. Which is crazy bc if you recall in the last episode, Mr. WPNZ complained to Karen that he was "slaving away making dinner", and this so-called dinner was pizza. Hell, I won't be surprised if he just ordered that pizza to be delivered. Notice again the arrangement of the characters. The chairs for the kids being pushed to opposite sides (see how Cory has to share the space with Zach now), while WPNZ specifically has his space as the head of the table. He is the one who wants to take charge, being above his kids. He is the one in control of the family, removing Karen as head of household. That is what he believes.

While one showed a true loving family, the other was essentially an illusion of what WPNZ wants to gain from all of this, through manipulation. He thinks he can come in, bribe the kids to enjoy his company, and enter the family like it was nothing. Remember, to the kids, he is a mere stranger they met days ago, and to Karen, he was the last person she wanted to be near her kids. But, oh boy, he thinks he "deserves" it and wants to be "part of the family".

It's up to you how much you want to believe in his word. From my personal perspective, his past feelings mutated into an obsession for Karen, and he stalked her family just so he could be a part of it, never taking any accountability for what he's done. And he's aware, don't get it twisted. He planned this fully knowing how this was going to affect Karen, just enough that motherly desperation would cloud her judgment and accept any deal to save her kids. (That's what I think, don't hold me for this).

Now, you may be probably wondering why I was like "....pizza" in my reaction. To the regulars here, you probably remember when I answered an ask about how I would think Karen's confrontation:

[X]

Y'know it was a hypothetical silly writing prompt, way before the shadow teaser mind you. And first off, I stand by it being seen as a hostage situation in Karen's eyes. We don't know how the kids truly are or how much they know, but I'm sure Karen would prioritize getting them out of there.

Second, I suspect that Mr. WPNZ was exaggerating about him making dinner so I wrote:

WPNZ offered her a seat, dinner already set on the table. So, she took the seat closest to him on his left, using herself as a barrier between her and the kids. She looked at the plate, spaghetti. So, this was apparently the so-called dinner he was "slaving himself away". Pfft, pathetic, pasta was the easiest dish to make. She almost wanted to laugh. [literally a couple of paragraphs later] And, lo and behold, Mario invites himself in with such a jolly mood. While everyone was so confused by his presence, his attention immediately turned towards the spaghetti, obviously. He immediately vacuumed all the spaghetti with a satisfied gulp. The kids giggled at it, after all it was their Uncle Mario. Well, that just happened, and it may be the opening Karen needed. She grabbed Mario by the hand and excused themselves with a promise of reheated leftover pizza. (Like I said, this was before the shadow teaser so I had Mario go help Karen. 3 would've stayed behind in this old version btw.)

I was like ".......did the Team find this somehow?" lmao. But nah fr, it got me by the pizza alone.

Speaking of Karen, let's talk about her potential role in the movie. Ofc, as the main star and mom, she's going to push herself past her limits just for her kids. We've seen how she maneuvered in the trees, how she literally got hit by a car. But nothing's going to stop her, that motherly adrenaline kicking in. Probably, the only thing that could get her off guard would be Mr. WPNZ, seeing how his presence alone made her freeze.

Even her kids are looking at her confused as to why she looks like she's seen a ghost. And maybe it's bc it might be. You can't exactly blame her. Look at the photo with Karen and WPNZ from the corkboard:

It seems like it was taken after she was recruited by Hitman Inc, based on the leather jacket she wore when she got recruited, lack of dirt and emotional weariness from living in the streets, and from WPNZ's "greeting" from the last episode.

She was trained to be an assassin in exchange for security. She got to work and got close to WPNZ. Perhaps there was a time when there were genuine feelings, that they had a mutual connection being under the corporation's watch. But clearly, things completely went downhill for Karen to leave the corporation and WPNZ entirely. Enough to know who WPNZ really is. And now, he's back out of nowhere and "persuading" her to let him join. Big red flag there. Karen is certainly a capable mom, but after a whole day worrying about her kids and having to face her psycho ex, I don't think she should go through this alone. Not when he has everything in his favor.

Oh boy, Mr. WPNZ... where do I even begin with this guy?

I guess we can talk about his design. First off, ngl he's literally a military tank. I mean, are you gonna tell me that I'm wrong? But no really, like I said, props to the Team for making a unique. To me, at least, he gives me fish vibes based on his smooth face and jacket zipper design. (watch me be so wrong tho) You can just look at the minecraft skin version and say "yeah i can see it".

And yet, it's so ridiculous and I love it.

So, when can we curbstomp him? Seriously like, I went back to the flashing images frame by frame. They're just the frames used within the same trailer; nothing really stands out. But I did want to talk about these 2:

We already know WPNZ has been spying on Karen and her kids. You know that, I know that. But the fact that he took pictures of them with the rest of the Crew. He knows about the Crew. Granted, I'm sure he's only after the family but he knows that Karen has a relationship with the Crew and he may use this info to his advantage. Perhaps as a threat for her to comply with whatever deal he has in mind.

Now, for the obvious question, how is this going to end? Assuming from what the Team wrote before, Karen is sure to turn the tables around against WPNZ. But is there anything we could expect from the movie?

SILENCE OF THE LAMBS CATS

The choices the Team makes are intentional, if you haven't learned that from me already. For example, the typewriter font used for the end cards implies that the corporation may be subtly involved (backstory-wise) bc the Team could've chosen any font for the end there.

What is peculiar is the movie title itself, and it may be our biggest clue. The Team has been VERY particular in titling their movies, I'm still not over how brilliant the "Western Spaghetti" title was. It was clearly taken from "Silence of the Lambs", and there has to be a reason why they chose it.

For those who aren't familiar, the story's about a serial killer and psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter. We follow FBI cadet Clarice Starling working on catching a serial killer who's been abducting women, but in order to crack it, she would need to think like a killer. So she seeks out Lecter for advice. The story touches on going against the norm:

Starling working in a male-dominated occupation. Not in a "I need to prove myself as an equal to my coworkers", but rather adapting to the work environment and using it to her advantage. She already is capable and incredibly intelligent; there's no need to prove anything to anyone. Then, it was revealed she had a traumatic past, when life was simpler.

Lecter isn't the typical psychotic serial killer. He is cunning and well-educated, so much so that he surpasses the evaluations in the psych prison. He can be seen as charming and respectful, which might confuse characters and the viewer about how sincere he really is.

By the end, Starling was able to do better than her co-workers did and find the true killer, shooting him dead. Meanwhile, Lecter used his skills to break out of custody by faking his identity, and merging himself into society like a shadow so he could go take revenge on the people who wronged him.

(Ofc I don't want to go too deep into this for spoilers and content warnings but this is the overall gist for the horror piece. If I got anything wrong, please do correct me.)

This psychological horror piece really fits with the arc we were given, with both established and possible points.

Karen, a former assassin (in a typically male-dominating job), is capable of handling situations herself through brains and broad. However, she's running away from a terrible past and having to confront it so she can live in peace.

WPNZ used his cunning and charm to sway the kids on his side and planned everything from the get-go for Karen to "fall for the trap". Though he's not on the same level as Lecter by his "reckless and chaotic" nature, he's always several steps ahead.

Karen may have to keep up with someone to aid her in taking down WPNZ. Yes, she's capable but WPNZ has all the advantages at the moment, especially with the kids being in the situation. So, what else can she do but think like a villain? *cough cough*

By the end of the movie, it's possible that WPNZ may not go to prison. He could escape from custody or someone he knows picks him up after retreating. With the corporation being an underlying factor for the arc, they might pick him up and be like "what are you doing during your work hours? stealing our resources?"

FINAL THOUGHTS

For now, those are my thoughts. A bit disappointed that we never got to see the shadow reveal but I'm still excited for the movie AAAAAAA

As mentioned in a previous post, I might do another bingo card for the movie like I did for WOTFI 2024 (Mario, do the thing again)

AY there we go. If you guys are interested, I might make one for the movie. That's all from me, I'll see you next time and remember: numbers go first!

anyway how's it going, Team....

...oh. ig that changed too.

[taylorsburner]

Good Mornin'

✧Summary✧ Billy wakes up early to take care of your baby boy and prepares a sweet surprise for his wife for a cozy morning in bed.

a/n: this is my first Billy fic so I hope y’all like it. it's just something cute and fluffy🫶🏾

Unlike most mornings where you were the first to wake up (if your little Theo hadn’t beaten you to it), Billy was the early riser this time around. However, unlike other times he’d woken up earlier than usual, his early rising this morning had no obligations for him to be anywhere but home with his family.Upon waking up, Billy was immediately met with the soft babbling of Theo in his bassinet on your side of bed. He slowly inches out of his side of the bed, making sure to not disturb you. Your husband rounds the bed to get the baby, dressing himself in his discarded clothes from the night before on the way over.

“Good mornin’ little guy.” Billy whispers with a wide smile, reaching down to pick Theo up out of the bassinet. “Did you sleep well?” He continues on, quietly bouncing back and forth with the baby.

“Since it’s just you and me, how about we do something nice for mama huh?” Billy whispers down to Theo, his eyes immediately turning up to his father at the mention of you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles. Billy reaches down to pull the covers further up your body before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Billy had the thought of making a nice breakfast in bed for you and had enlisted the help of Theo. First on their agenda was to pick out to a couple of flowers for a little sprucing. He let Theo grab whatever his eyes landed on (and plucked a couple with less crumpled petals) and headed back inside to get started on cooking.

With Theo on his hip your husband singlehandedly, quite literally, cooked a miniature breakfast spread for you. He made a little something for the baby, feeding him as he cooked to tie him over until you fed him.

❃❃❃❃

When you woke up you were a bit more refreshed than usual, appreciating the extra time you got to sleep. However, you were a bit confused to find Billy’s side of the bed empty and the bassinet next to you was empty as well. You were pleasantly welcomed though, by the smell of food coming from the kitchen.

You pull back the covers and smooth out your nightgown, leaving the bedroom and making your way to the kitchen to investigate. And as you approach the entryway, your eyes fall on your husband towering over the kitchen counter cooking with Theo on his hip. You couldn’t help but to melt at the sight.

Without making a sound you step into the kitchen behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“Good morning” You mumble against him, your words vibrating through his shirt.

“Good mornin’ honey.” Billy replies through a smile.

“Can’t go dissapearin’ on be like that.” You playfully scold. “I don’t like waking up by myself”

“I know, but I got a little somethin’ for ya. Supposed to be a-“ Before Billy could finish his sentence, Theo cuts him off, wanting to get your attention. “Seems like someone wants to talk to ya.” He chuckles motioning to the little boy clinging to him.

“Good morning my beautiful boy.” You coo, softly pulling the little boy from his father’s hip, immediately leaving kisses all over his chubby cheeks.

“I thought I was your beautiful boy.” Your husband pouts, exaggerating the puppy dog eyes and pouted lip.

“You are, he’s just a bit cuter.” You reason, lightly tickling the baby’s pudgy tummy, causing an immediate stream of giggles that absolutely melt both you and Billy.

“I guess you got me there darlin’.” He concedes, beaming down at you and Theo. “How ‘bout you two go back to bed so that I can still try and surprise you.”

“Yes daddy” You whisper just for him to hear as you reach up to peck his lips before heading back to your shared bedroom.

“What am I gonna do with you” Billy chuckles to himself, finishing up the remainder of your breakfast that was sizzling in the pan. ….. Not long after you and Theo get all snuggled up and cozy underneath the warm covers, Billy is making his way back into the bedroom. He carefully walks down the hall and into the room tightly holding a tray with the food he’d made for you and a jar containing the small bouquet of wildflowers he and Theo picked earlier in the morning.

“Now what were you and daddy up to while I was asleep?” You happy whisper down to your son who was beaming at the reappearance of his father.

“We figured we’d take care of you the way you always take care of us darlin’” Billy says, gently placing the tray down on the bed in front of you and pressing a kiss to your forehead before rounding the bed to get back in with you.

“You two are the sweetest boys in the world” You gush.

“Well you’re an even sweeter mama.” Billy lovingly counters, leaning in to plant a proper kiss to your lips.

“I love you.” You contently sigh against his lips

“And I love you more doll.” Billy replies, leaving your with one more kiss before settling back into his spot next to you. “Now eat up darlin’, don’t want you eatin’ a cold breakfast.” Your husband instructs, removing Theo from your arms to free up your hands to eat.

Unlike most mornings where you were the first to wake up (if your little Theo hadn’t beaten you to it), Billy was the early riser this time around. However, unlike other times he’d woken up earlier than usual, his early rising this morning had no obligations for him to be anywhere but home with his family.

Upon waking up, Billy was immediately met with the soft babbling of Theo in his bassinet on your side of bed. He slowly inches out of his side of the bed, making sure to not disturb you. Your husband rounds the bed to get the baby, dressing himself in his discarded clothes from the night before on the way over.

“Good mornin’ little guy.” Billy whispers with a wide smile, reaching down to pick Theo up out of the bassinet. “Did you sleep well?” He continues on, quietly bouncing back and forth with the baby.

“Since it’s just you and me, how about we do something nice for mama huh?” Billy whispers down to Theo, his eyes immediately turning up to his father at the mention of you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles. Billy reaches down to pull the covers further up your body before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Billy had the thought of making a nice breakfast in bed for you and had enlisted the help of Theo. First on their agenda was to pick out to a couple of flowers for a little sprucing. He let Theo grab whatever his eyes landed on (and plucked a couple with less crumpled petals) and headed back inside to get started on cooking.

With Theo on his hip your husband singlehandedly, quite literally, cooked a miniature breakfast spread for you. He made a little something for the baby, feeding him as he cooked to tie him over until you fed him.

❃❃❃❃

When you woke up you were a bit more refreshed than usual, appreciating the extra time you got to sleep. However, you were a bit confused to find Billy’s side of the bed empty and the bassinet next to you was empty as well. You were pleasantly welcomed though, by the smell of food coming from the kitchen.

You pull back the covers and smooth out your nightgown,  leaving the bedroom and making your way to the kitchen to investigate. And as you approach the entryway, your eyes fall on your husband towering over the kitchen counter cooking with Theo on his hip. You couldn’t help but to melt at the sight.

Without making a sound you step into the kitchen behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“Good morning” You mumble against him, your words vibrating through his shirt.

“Good mornin’ honey.” Billy replies through a smile.

“Can’t go dissapearin’ on be like that.” You playfully scold. “I don’t like waking up by myself”

“I know, but I got a little somethin’ for ya. Supposed to be a-“ Before Billy could finish his sentence, Theo cuts him off, wanting to get your attention. “Seems like someone wants to talk to ya.” He chuckles motioning to the little boy clinging to him.

���Good morning my beautiful boy.” You coo, softly pulling the little boy from his father’s hip, immediately leaving kisses all over his chubby cheeks.

“I thought I was your beautiful boy.” Your husband pouts, exaggerating the puppy dog eyes and pouted lip.

“You are, he’s just a bit cuter.” You reason, lightly tickling the baby’s pudgy tummy, causing an immediate stream of giggles that absolutely melt both you and Billy.

“I guess you got me there darlin’.” He concedes, beaming down at you and Theo. “How ‘bout you two go back to bed so that I can still try and surprise you.”

“Yes daddy” You whisper just for him to hear as you reach up to peck his lips before heading back to your shared bedroom.

“What am I gonna do with you” Billy chuckles to himself, finishing up the remainder of your breakfast that was sizzling in the pan.

❃❃❃❃

Not long after you and Theo get all snuggled up and cozy underneath the warm covers, Billy is making his way back into the bedroom. He carefully walks down the hall and into the room tightly holding a tray with the food he’d made for you and a jar containing the small bouquet of wildflowers he and Theo picked earlier in the morning.

“Now what were you and daddy up to while I was asleep?” You happy whisper down to your son who was beaming at the reappearance of his father.

“We figured we’d take care of you the way you always take care of us darlin’” Billy says, gently placing the tray down on the bed in front of you and pressing a kiss to your forehead before rounding the bed to get back in with you. 

“You two are the sweetest boys in the world” You gush.

“Well you’re an even sweeter mama.” Billy lovingly counters, leaning in to plant a proper kiss to your lips. 

“I love you.” You contently sigh against his lips

“And I love you more doll.” Billy replies, leaving your with one more kiss before settling back into his spot next to you. “Now eat up darlin’, don’t want you eatin’ a cold breakfast.” Your husband instructs, removing Theo from your arms to free up your hands to eat.

The three of you end up spending the rest of your morning in bed, too wrapped up in each other to even bother doing anything else.

Request new stuff here♡

[glitter-stained]

Hear me out because I have a vision:

Barbara- centric hacker movie. (Barbara-centric, not Birds of Prey for this one.) Like not a dc adaptation, a hacker movie that's an AU. Fair warning: I understand nothing about how hacking works.

Barbara is a thirty-five years old bisexual overqualified librarian. Every time someone asks her why she works in a library and if she's never bored she replies she likes the quiet and the books, but we see, on her work computer, that she's always reading like one science article one philosophy book and news article etc at the same time to stay stimulated; she also has several degrees and on screen we see notes of her working on p=np because it'd be funny. On a date, we see her hint that she likes that the library is calm because she gets excitement from her nightlife.

The nightlife in question: Her hacker name is of course Oracle. At first, she learnt how to code because she was bored, and then she got invested in the secrets she could unravel, but her real entry into cyber activity happened after she hunted down the identity of the man responsible for the stray bullet that paralyzed her during a shootout and framed him for tax evasion. This isn't like, the heart of the story or anything, just a little flashback to explain her motivation and how hacking helped her regain her self-confidence and grow around it. That part was cut in the final version of the movie because it was very very long but Barbara's actress and those who have seen the director's cut agree it's an important context for her characterization.

The movie is about her uncovering a fucked up ploy by the government to cover up an industrial catastrophe that's already killed hundreds, and continuing to poison people because they're burying the proof so that the industry can carry on for profit. It becomes even more complicated when she finds out not only is this a corrupted government officials issue, but the cia is involved because of the potential interest of whatever chemical is being produced in this factory as a weapon, so it's one woman against the giants of this world.

Thankfully, Barbara isn't truly alone in everything. She has or builds close relationships through the movie, such as:

-Dinah: her old highschool friend with whom she had lost contact, but Dinah doesn't know that at first: she's down on her luck (lost all her money+ scum boyfriend after scum boyfriend, etc.) and Oracle calls her and offers a sketchy job. (She cuts into the funds of some billionaire to do this, highjacking the dumb algorithm he made for tax evasion.) She calls Barbara her conscience and Jiminy (her own conscience is perfectly efficient and still she says that). Barbara is always calling her on an old kind of phone because she doesn't like technology. Barbara calls her "My hands, my eyes, my heart". Around the last third to fourth of the movie, at the start of the build-up to climax, we have the famous "Barbara...call me Barbara moment", except after that the scene continues and they fuck, like you don't see everything but it's not fade to black either, Dinah's mouth on her neck, hands untying clothes, fingers trailing across the other's skin drenched in water from the pool, the classic cliche fingers intertwining, dramatic music, and then we can fade to black.

-Dick: a 25 years old bartender with an inability to keep the same job for more than a couple of months who is haunted by the death of his parents in a circus accident when he was a kid. They start to date because she's investigating his parents' involvement in her case (they were killed to stifle down whistleblowing), I don't want them to kiss in the movie just they're clearly starting dating and then he wakes up alone in her bed and thanks to some adequate plot excuse Dick finds the file about his parents and falls to his knees. I want a scene where he's kneeling at her feet, devastated (idk if crying or not, director's choice) and she's trailing her fingers in his hair and asks him if he wants to help her get him his revenge and he looks at her with so much grief and devotion and says he'll do anything. After that moment they don't really break-up (esp since they weren't officially together) but their relationship has shifted, there's a form of affection/care/devotion but it's less romantic than the cute dating from the beginning (but no less weirder or intense). The music for them is not when she brings him back to her apartment but when he's kneeling at her lap because that's where the climax is.

> I'm not sure who more to include but I'm considering versions of Cassandra Cain, Helena Bertellini or Selina Kyle. Keep in mind that these are civilians in a hacker movie, more than having meta abilities or insane hero skills they need to be smart, brave, motivated af with a bone to pick, trusting in Oracle and generally normal people (though a reasonable measure of Selina's b&e skills certainly wouldn't hurt.)

> They find help in allies amidst doctors/scientists trying to study the apparent epidemic (but the research is being pushed down), maybe Talia al Ghul and Barry Allen?

> In any case I want Barbara to be badass and flawed in a way that's like kinda a bit morally grey, but it's not in a "everyone's a bit of a villain here"; there's a scene in the movie where Oracle is blackmailing a corrupt guy into double-crossing the cia for her and he's like 'you think you're so much better than me" and Oracle is like "oh, it's terribly easy to be better than you, I don't even have to be good."

Anyway the scandal is released and there are protests and justice stuff and they win. I'm not sure how the story ends for Barbara, maybe the last shot is her at the library working on her equations as if nothing had happened but with a tiny floating little smile, maybe she disappears mysteriously from everyone's life leaving a shadow and they're all wondering what she's up to now and why she left (leaving ground for a potential sequel that might never live up to the original) Dick is reflecting about how she changed his life forever and the last shot is Dinah thinking about the way she's missing the part of her soul that was whispering in her ears, etc.

The movie gets released in the theatres etc for a little less than one week before it's cancelled and forbidden forever because of some concerning similarities between the plot and some existent factories that somehow made it to the big screen without anyone noticing, however the movie is already circulating, it's all over the internet, grainy footage from the theatre, leaked bits from the director's cut (not the final cut remember), alleged snippets from the original script appearing on forums, etc. It's too late.

Idk, just- Barbara centric hacker movie. "Any similarities to real life circumstances is purely accidental" type of stuff.

[longwuzhere]

My Adventures with Superman Season 2 Easter Eggs

Welcome back everyone! Here we are season 2 of My Adventures with Superman! What a fantastic first two episodes and as usual they're full of fun Easter eggs which I will point out and explain to those who aren't familiar so you can be in the know with the comics book readers! My Easter eggs lists for season 1 is here if you haven't seen it!

My season 2 episode 1 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 3 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My season 2 episode 4 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 5 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 6 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 7 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My season 2 episode 8 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 9 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 10 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

Spoilers if you haven't seen it

I might be reading too much into it but maybe this is a subtle reference to the Adventures with Superman comic title or it could just be a complimentary episode title to My Adventures with Superman. Who knows.

The episode starts with Waller waking up getting ready for her day (shout out to Waller's daily affirmations btw) and she goes down to meet Sam Lane, Lois's father who I talked about here.

Nice call back to Season 1 Episode 3 when Lois and Clark break into Stryker's Island again and entering into Siobhan McDougal's cell again but this time going under the island's jail to Task Force X secret operations. I talked about Siobhan McDougal aka Silver Banshee and Stryker's Island here.

Later on we see Clark and Lois infiltrating the Task Force X hideout and Clark uses his X-Ray vision but can't seem to see through the walls here. If you know your Superman lore, these walls are made of lead.

Jerry Seigel and Joe Shuster, Superman's creators, first introduced X-Ray vision to Superman in Action Comics #11 (1939) where Clark is investigating some shady dealing involving oil and the death of someone involved in this deal. It wasn't until later in Action Comics #69 nice (1944) [W: Jerry Seigel, P&I: Ed Dobrotka] that we see there is a limit to Clark's X-Ray vision.

Superman rescues Lois from the Prankster and his henchmen after surveying the area with his X-Ray vision and seeing that one of the buildings is made of lead and can't see inside it and he goes in to save her.

Later as Sam, Lois and Superman escape the compound Waller sics one of her soldiers after them, a green skull-faced, radioactive soldier aka Atomic Skull.

MAwS Waller calls Atomic Skull as Agent Martin, so we can assume this is a reference to Joseph Martin, the second Atomic Skull who first appeared in Adventures of Superman #383 (1991) [W: Jerry Ordway, P: Jim Fern, I: Doug Hazelwood, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Albert DeGuzman]. In the comics Joseph Martin was a student. Later in Action Comics #670 (1991) Joseph, at a S.T.A.R. Labs for a check up, gets struck by a grounding cable and that triggers his Metagenes as the building collapsed. He was able to escape but stumbles back to his apartment and begins to lose his hair. Trying to figure out what is wrong Joseph gets jumped by some muggers and Joseph murders them and walks into the theater that is playing an Atomic Skull movie (yes in the post-Crisis on Infinite Earths continuity Atomic Skull is a movie character). Superman investigating the muggers murder discovers Joseph Martin at the movies and sees that he has changed and takes up the name the Atomic Skull as seen below in Action Comics #670 (1991) [W: Roger Stern, P: Bob McLeod, I: Denis Rodier, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Bill Oakley].

The original Atomic Skull, Albert Michaels, first appeared in Superman #303 (1976) as a piece-of-shit but smart AF scientist for S.T.A.R. Labs. Twenty issues later in Superman #323 (1978) [Cover art by Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez] , Albert Michaels dons the Atomic Skull costume after siding with SKULL and is given a radium implant in his brain that would grant him the ability to harness bioelectricity from his cranium and convert it to energy to shoot out from his visor.

Back at the Daily Planet, Jimmy is called out by Perry for not giving him a video and we see that the Flamebird team is composed of the Newkid Legion and Steve Lombard. I talked more about them here and here.

We get one Wilhelm scream as as Task Force X soldier gets carried back into the dark hallway by Parasite/Ivo who I talked more about here.

And finally after stopping Parasite from attack Waller, Lex Luthor shows up finally giving his name to Waller striking up a new partnership.

Lex Luthor first appeared in Action Comics #23 (1940) [W: Jerry Seigel, P: Joe Shuster, I: Paul Cassidy] where he was exploiting European countries in WWII. This iteration of Lex goes by Alexei Luthor. Still smart like his other Lex Luthor counterparts with a knack for machinery technology. He apparently dies in his debut issue.

In Action Comics #125 (1948) [P&I: Al Plastino] we see the debut of silver age Lex Luthor . In the comic Alexis Luthor here, uses his scientific genius to manipulate a hermit who's making prediction come true. This Lex Luthor has beef with Superboy back when he and Clark were kids. He swore revenge on Superboy for ruining his research after a fire broke out at his laboratory causing his hair to fall out thanks to the chemical fumes. This iteration of Lex is the one who creates the famous warsuit that Lex Luthor is usually depicted in.

Post-Crisis on Infinite Earths Lex Luthor makes his first appearance in Swamp Thing #52 (1986) [W: Alan Moore, P: Rick Veitch, I: Alfredo Alcala, C: Tatjana Wood, L: John Costanza]. This version of Lex is the scientist and business man that pop culture knows and he goes by Alexander Luthor. His origins is rewritten so that instead of Lex being from Smallville and having met Superboy back then, he meets Superman in Metropolis where he created Lexcorp and almost everyone is under his employ whether they know it or not (see the Man of Steel miniseries from 1986). In that miniseries, he also has the red hair and eventually he goes bald. This version of Lex was also a former President of the United States.

Post-New52/DC Rebirth, because of some comic book shenanigans and retcons, some of Lex's origins pre-New 52 blends in this this current continuity now where Lex Luthor joined the Justice League as shown on the cover of Justice League #30 (2014) [Cover art by Ivan Reis, Joe Prado, and Rod Reis], was Superman when New 52 Superman died as shown in the variant cover of Action Comics #967 (2017) [Cover art by Gary Frank and Brad Simpson], and started the Legion of Doom seen on the cover of Justice League #5 (2018) [Cover art by Doug Mahnke, Jaime Mendoza, and Wil Quintana].

And with that episode 2 is done! Come back next week for episode 3's references and Easter eggs! My Easter eggs lists for season 1 is here if you haven't seen it!

My season 2 episode 1 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 3 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My season 2 episode 4 Easter eggs and refereces in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 5 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 6 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 7 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My season 2 episode 8 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 9 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 10 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part Eight

Summary: After escaping death together, both of them finally just want to feel alive. With each other. | Word Count: 5.6k~ | Warnings: SMUT (finally), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), escaped death sex, angst, mentions of death

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

There was only panic. The acrid taste of foreboding death on his tongue.

Billy could feel his chest caving in with despair, as if someone had plunged their fist into it, grabbed his heart in their icy fingers and torn it from between his ribs. Fingernails sunk into the hot, bloody flesh.

The image blurred at the edges, her face focussed in the centre. It was so bright and hot before. Why was it suddenly so cold and dark?

Billy fought against the police officers, clawing and belting her name from the depths of his throat in a state of desperation.

“It's always been us. It always will be.”

He had never seen someone look so petrified. Her hand stretched out, reaching for him, a soundless utterance of his name left her lips before her body was shrouded in flames and smoke. 

Peeling away at her gorgeous face.

He felt the hellish heat of the fire engulfing his car, and felt nothing but a hollow emptiness, of self-loathing, when her screams from inside became swiftly quieter.

And Billy woke as he had done for the last two nights, drenched in sweat, gripping the bedsheets for some semblance of control and wide, blue eyes flitting about the room in panic.

He'd dreamt of many scenarios that could have played out that day. All of which ended with one inescapable ending, that she always perished in them.

He didn't sleep at all that first night, opting to spend it at his Mum and Dad's. Unable to face the unbearable and stark loneliness of his flat until his mind was more stable and not muddled by the threat of death.

He can still feel it. Deep in his bones.

The primal fear that gripped him. 

But every now and then, like a warm, tender embrace. The memories of her would come just as easily. How she held his face. How her lips had pressed against his in relief. Her eyes, stark against the stillness of that twilight evening, as she was ushered away into her own ambulance.

It was a comfort for him to remember just why he was here. Alive.

All because of her.

He hadn't seen her since that day.

Val had offered at the first opportunity to have her over, just in case, like Billy, she didn't want to be alone on the evening her very life could have been forfeit.

But before she could even propose the idea, when she'd picked Billy up from the police station after submitting their statements, she was already gone. But the shadows of what happened to them both lingered in the bold letters of the local newspapers.

9th July. Bomb Defused in Targeted Attack on Anti-Fascist Activists Yesterday evening, a man and a woman narrowly escaped a deadly terror attack targeted at anti-fascist activists. The assailants had planted a bomb in the victims' car, intending to cause catastrophic harm. Police presence surrounding Farringdon Tube Station has been increased in response to the attack.  Thanks to the swift response of the Metropolitan Police bomb squad team, the explosive device was successfully defused before it could detonate, averting what could have been a devastating loss of life. The heroic efforts of law enforcement officers ensured the safe extraction of the individuals from the scene, who were promptly transported to a nearby hospital for evaluation and treatment. As investigations into the incident continue, authorities are urging members of the public to remain vigilant and report any suspicious activity to law enforcement agencies. The MET police have confirmed the arrest of an individual in connection with the targeted attack. The suspect, whose identity has not yet been disclosed, was apprehended following intensive investigations into the incident.

As he sat up in bed then, throwing the sheets off his middle and twisting to plant his feet on the cool floor, he wondered if she was suffering as he was.

The ache of her absence gnawed at him, a hollow emptiness that seemed to grow with each passing day. He wondered where she had gone, if she was safe. The uncertainty weighed heavily on his mind, casting a shadow over his every thought and action.

He rose to face the new day, with dwindling purpose, but couldn't sit idly by while she was out there, lost and alone. He had to find her, to offer her the same comfort and support that she had once given him.

There was not one spot in his childhood home Billy felt safe from the concerned gaze of his parents, and sometimes when she bothered to come around, his sister. To be fair to Lana, everytime she saw him, she threw her arms around his neck and choked out something he couldn't strain to hear.

But the tug at his heart told him it was mostly out of guilt. 

With unwashed hair, he stared at the kettle as it boiled, waiting for the button to click off in what became a monotonous task to just have something to do. The rumble of the water wormed its way into his brain.

The hum of the engine.

The beep of the timer as it counted down.

“Billy, look at me-”

“Billy.”

His mum's concerned voice rang through like a bell, tugging him to the surface. And he blinked a few times before looking at her, his mum's eyebrows furrowed together, her phone held in one hand, outstretched to him.

“Mum, I don't want to talk to Beck-”

“It's Libby, duck.”

With his phone dusted across Cranstead Fields, he felt like somewhat of a child, that everyone who wanted to speak to him, had to come through his mum first.

Since the incident, and he wasn't sure how Becky found out, but she'd been ringing his Mum non-stop, asking for him. To talk to him. But what would she even say? Some half-arsed attempt at sympathy?

Billy nodded a thank you, and bought the phone to his ear, sighing with relief when his mum gave him privacy.

“Hiya Libs, listen, right now's not a good ti-”

“Billy! Sorry, but I can't get hold of her. S-she’s gone off somewhere and-”

“Woah woah, calm down, what's going on?”

“She's turned her phone off and I don't know where she is! Her fucking dad turned up at her flat-”

He dropped the teaspoon then, completely focussed. Something akin to a cold wave sweeping over him. A flurry of memories came, of conversations had in Cranstead Fields on their walks home from school.

“I don't really know him,” she'd said, “if I saw him in the street, I wouldn't recognise him.”

“Her Dad? What the fuck-Libs, slow down and explain.”

“You know her better than anyone, Billy…can you please just make sure she's okay…”

Billy's mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. He made a quick promise to Libby that he'd do something, his determination fueling his actions. If he knew her, she'd be panicking at the mere sight of her estranged father showing up at her flat. He imagined her fears, her worries about what he could possibly want after all these years of abandonment.

Perhaps her father had his own family now, another life that didn't include her. Or maybe he had heard about the events at Cranstead and was offering some feeble attempt at support. Whatever the reason, Billy knew he had to act fast.

Brushing past his mum, he pulled on his jacket and headed out into the rain-soaked streets, the calls of his dad fading into the distance. With each step, his determination grew stronger, fueled by his love for her and his unwavering promise to always be there for her.

He had always said he would do anything for her, and now, with the rain pouring down around him and the stifling heat of summer weighing heavily on his shoulders, he knew he had to keep that promise. "I have to get to her. I have to get to her," he repeated to himself, each word a mantra driving him forward through the storm.

He already let her slip away from him once.

It wasn’t going to happen again.

16th September. 

The date on Billy's phone screen seemed to mock him, the reminder underneath serving as a painful reminder of what could have been. The day she would leave for university. He had set the reminder himself, filled with visions of helping her with her bags, hands intertwined until the last possible moment before the train doors closed.

But those hopeful expectations had been shattered, crushed by his own foolishness. The memory of her hurt expression on their last day of college stabbed at his heart, a constant ache he couldn't shake.

He had realised his mistake too late, watching helplessly as she walked away from him. His friends had been rightfully annoyed at him for ruining the excitement of their next life stage. She was only following her dreams, trying to live her life to the fullest.

The only person who was tolerable to be around, was Harry.

He was at least easy to talk to about idle shit. Playing whatever shitty first person shooter he had in his arsenal of XBOX games. In between games, Billy checked his phone, but found no text lining his screen, blowing smoke between his lips out Harry’s bedroom window. Even in those moments of distraction, Billy couldn't shake the nagging feeling of regret.

“Have you told her you love her yet?” Harry asked, button smashing and catching his lip between his teeth in concentration.

Billy furrowed his brow, “Who? Becky?”

It was rare Harry paused a game if he didn’t have to. But his reaction was immediate, his expression filled with disappointment. It was then Billy felt the hot whips of panic and embarrassment at the back of his neck. Harry scoffed and turned back to his game, tight with some form of resentment.

He thought about fobbing off Harry, weaving through the tight alleyways of the local estate, running as fast as his long legs would carry him, to make it to the train station before she left him forever. 

But when he checked his phone, the reminder was gone, and he felt the hole where she had occupied space inside him, cold. 

Every corner of her home held the memory of her mother's voice.

“Where the fuck have you been all night? Ungrateful cow!”

“You're just like your bloody father! Useless!”

And one of her more colourful insults.

“You're about as useful as tits on a bull.”

It would almost be funny. Almost.

Her former home was caked with dust, formed thick in the weeks her mum had been in rehab. There were still dirty mugs in the sink, and an inch of milk in the fridge. But it smelled as it always had, musty and oppressive.

Her hair was frizzy from walking in the rain, and when she'd tripped past the pile of letters at the front door, it felt like she was a ghost in her own home.

One she never thought she'd set foot in again.

But she had to get away from him. 

Just turning up, after years of pretending she didn't exist, without so much of a ‘sorry, I never bothered to give a shit about you’.

No. 

So she ran. Socks and shoes completely sodden from running. That day at Cranstead Fields felt like a lifetime ago and not at the same time. The humid, blazing days had given way finally to raging thunder. Rumbling aggressively.

Her old bedroom didn't offer much of a haven. 

As she entered her old bedroom, seeking solace in the familiarity of its walls, she couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over her. This was no longer her sanctuary, but a prison of her own making, a reminder of the pain and suffering she had endured at the hands of those who were supposed to love her.

Any sunlight that filtered through the thick cloud started to fade, sat on her childhood bed that felt too small now.

And she jumped when she heard the front door open, as if expecting the shriek of her mother, the slam of doors, the rise of an open hand-

“Hey..” 

Billy's voice tore her away. He looked comical stood in the doorway, nearly filling all available space. His eyebrows furrowed beautifully, with little drips falling from the darkened sandy locks of hair over his eyes.

She'd not seen him since Cranstead.

And she felt her heart squeeze at the sight of him now. Looking just as worried we the day she first met him. 

His clothes were soaked through, jeans a dark blue at the thigh where he'd been running through the rain. And if she hadn't felt so hollow, like her legs would break if she leapt forwards, she would have hugged him. And not let go.

Eventually finding her own voice was difficult.

“Mum's dead, Billy.”

Billy's lips parted, his expression unreadable as he processed her words. There was a sadness in his eyes, but also a sense of resignation, as if he had been expecting this news all along.

For a moment, he simply stood there, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air between them. And then, without a word, Billy crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she let out a shaky breath.

Billy exhaled, warm against her shoulder as he held her, “I'm sorry, baby,” he whispered. His words only made her arms tighten around him. He was her only anchor. Had always been.

11th July. Woman found deceased in local canal. A woman's body was discovered in the waters of the local canal early morning, 9th July. Sources close to the investigation suggest that the woman may have been under the influence of alcohol at the time of her untimely demise. According to preliminary reports from law enforcement officials, the woman, whose identity remains unknown at this time, had checked herself out of a rehabilitation facility mere hours before her tragic accident occurred. It is believed that she may have been attempting to navigate the area on foot when she accidentally fell into the canal. In the wake of this tragic event, local authorities are urging members of the public to exercise caution when venturing near bodies of water, particularly in the aftermath of heavy rainfall. The family of the deceased have chosen not to comment and request privacy during this difficult time.

Billy sat with her for a while, rubbing her back tenderly as she leaned into him, and both watched the river of rain slide down the road outside, the concrete shimmering.

“I've never been up here,” Billy commented, earning a mirthless laugh from her.

“You're not missing much, trust me.”

His hand found its way around her waist, and he pressed his lips to her hair, a silent gesture of comfort. “Is that what your Dad came over to tell you? About your mum?” he inquired gently.

She nodded simply. 

Billy felt her tension, her inner turmoil palpable in the air around them. “I can’t do it,” she whispered, her voice strained with emotion. “Pretending nothing’s wrong…”

He shook his head, his heart aching for her. “Nobody’s asking you to,” he assured her.

“Yeah, but that's not what people want, is it? Stiff upper lip. Move on,” she lamented, her bitterness seeping into her words. "I just... I don't know how to feel," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's like... I should be sad, but all I feel is... relief.”

Billy's brows furrowed in concern, but he didn't interrupt her. He knew she needed to voice her thoughts, to untangle the complex web of emotions swirling inside her. He understands that feeling. That you should be sad, but you're not as sad as you think you ought to be.

"It's not like I wanted her to die," she continued, her tone tinged with bitterness. "But...now she's gone, and I don't know what to do with all this... emptiness.”

Billy squeezed her gently, offering silent support. "You don't have to figure it all out right now," he reassured her. "Just take it one step at a time."

She leaned into him, grateful for his steady presence. "I just... I don't want to see him. My Dad." She confessed, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Shows up out of nowhere, expecting me to... what? Forgive him? Act like nothing ever happened?"

Billy's jaw tightened with anger, but he kept his tone calm. "You don't owe him anything," he said firmly. "You're allowed to set boundaries, to protect yourself from anyone who brings you pain."

I should know, he thinks.

She nodded. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice stronger now. "I'm not sure he's someone I want to figure things out with.”

Billy felt a pang of sadness at her words, the weight of her pain heavy on his heart. “Only you get it,” she added softly, her voice filled with longing. “Sometimes I think it’s only you who does.”

He smiled against her hair, his laughter a bittersweet melody in the quiet room. “Lucky you,” he teased, earning a breathy laugh from her that felt half-hearted, but a laugh nonetheless.

In the quiet intimacy of the room, he found himself lost in the warmth of her presence, grateful for the silent understanding that passed between them. They had weathered storms together before, and he knew they would weather this one too. He brushed a gentle kiss against her temple, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke.

After a beat, Billy squeezed her waist affectionately, “Come on, let’s get you back to mine. Get you dried up, yeah?”

It was clear the moment she walked through the door that his parents had been round to tidy up at some point after Cranstead.

The floor was visible. His kitchen, mostly spotless. And all the clothes had been put away. A stark contrast to how it appeared when she and Billy had been here last. It was night and day, compared to the chaos that had consumed their lives before everything unravelled.

On the walk home, Billy had confessed that Becky had texted him - probably feeling in some way, that he owed her an explanation about his ex. Not that she needed one.

When she asked if he texted back, he'd said no, reasoning that he had no desire to see or even speak to her again after the behaviour she'd exhibited when they had been together. Yet, there was no trace of jealousy within her. She knew, deep down, that she had Billy all to herself now, without any looming threats of loss.

By the time they'd made it back to his, the sun was starting to set over the rooftops, casting a rainbow through the shimmering rain that continued to fall. The walk back to his flat had drenched them once again, but neither felt the hurry to rush about and get dry.

“How's Lana?” She asked, watching from the kitchen doorway as Billy poured boiling water into two mugs.

He raised his eyebrows as if the question caught him off guard, “uh, yeah fine really…just being her usual bossy self mostly.”

Her throat tightened as she observed the movement of his hands, an unexpected pang of desire igniting within her. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the dormant feelings that had long been suppressed. In the quiet of the kitchen, she found herself drawn to him, her gaze lingering on his features as if memorising every contour. The air crackled with unspoken words, the weight of their shared history hanging between them.

“Good.” she added quietly, suddenly finding herself needing to do something with her hands. 

With his sodden jacket now hanging over the door, her gaze lingered on the sight of his bare skin, his barely sun-kissed arms at his side. The memory of their kiss, passionate and electrifying, flooded her mind, sending a shiver down her spine.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her. She couldn't afford to lose herself in him, not now, not like this, not after the trauma of what had happened. She had to maintain control, to resist the pull of her desires and stop acting like a lovesick little teenager.

As Billy turned to face her, his pupils widened with longing, and she felt her resolve weaken. In that moment, the palpable chemistry between them was undeniable, sparking like electricity in the air, pulling them together with an irresistible force.

Suddenly, she became acutely aware of her appearance to him. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, the scent of rain clinging to her hair, a tangible reminder of the storm they had walked through together.

But despite her dishevelled state, there was something in Billy's gaze that made her heart race. It was a hunger, a desire that mirrored her own, igniting a fire within her that she struggled to contain. Yet, there was something else there, something deeper, a glimmer of disbelief mingled with relief as if he couldn't quite believe she was standing here, alive and whole, in front of him. It added a layer of complexity to the intensity of their connection, amplifying the magnetic pull that drew them closer together.

And then, without a word, Billy stepped forward, closing the distance between them in one decisive move. His hands cupped her cheeks tenderly, his touch both gentle and possessive as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

It was a bold move, one that took her by surprise, but there was a sense of determination in Billy's actions that spoke volumes. For too long, he had taken a back seat in his own life, allowing others to dictate his choices and define his path. 

But this, kissing her, was a decision he could make, a choice born out of his own desires and needs.

It was only when they parted and Billy pressed his tacky forehead to hers that he spoke, “I'm so fucking sorry…”

Between soft inhales, her voice came out weakened, “what for?”

She couldn't tell if the breath he let out was more of a choked sob rather than speaking. “For being such a twat before you left for uni, for fucking putting you in danger - I could never live with myself if you-”

Her head turned, capturing his lips once more to silence the words that had barely come out. She couldn't allow him to think like that, the what ifs. They were here. Alive.

Driven by an undeniable longing, they stumbled backward, their bodies moving in sync as they navigated the path to Billy's bedroom. His hands slid down to clamp around her waist, guiding her with a sense of purpose as they moved with a newfound urgency, barely giving space for breath as he surrendered himself to her.

Billy tasted faintly of cigarettes, and while her fingers slid up the nape of his neck, twisting themselves in his dark, blonde hair, she found herself thinking that there was nothing more addictive at this moment than kissing Billy Washington.

And wanted to kick herself for waiting so long to do it.

Lost in the heat of the moment, she found herself craving more of Billy's touch, a hunger that consumed her from the inside out. His hands roamed her body with a feverish intensity, tracing every curve and contour as if committing them to memory.

“So beautiful…” 

Her knees went a little weak, and thank god that she didn't have to stand in front of him much longer. The back of her knees met the bedframe and as she stumbled with her back on the worn mattress, Billy was quick to follow, his knee parting her legs with quiet intensity.

There was no need for words, the depth of this bond had been communicated long ago.

If she paid too much attention to the way his large hands pawed at her breasts and slipped beneath the hem of her shirt to glide along her skin, her mind would spin. It felt so natural, chest to chest, tangled in bliss they had ignored for too long.

She tugged at his shirt, the burning desire building so quickly inside her, there was no way of stopping. He propped himself up slightly to grab his shirt at his back and pulled it off himself in one smooth movement, forgotten to the floor in an instant.

His lips trailed down her neck, collarbone, savouring every bit, before continuing south, softly kissing the skin that had become exposed at her torso as she assisted in guiding her jeans off her legs, struggling at the way the fabric clung to her skin from the rain.

“Fucking hell…” Billy whispered, her hips in his bruising grip, his lips brushing against the inside of her bare thighs. She felt his tongue tease that crease where her leg met her hip and the heat that rose to her face from it. 

“Billy, oh-” her eyes slipped completely shut, stomach doing backflips when he laid an open-mouthed kiss to her centre, teasing the growing wetness with his tongue as if he couldn't wait to taste. Even through the thin fabric of her underwear, with his sheer determination to bury himself as far between her legs as possible, his nose brushed against her little bundle of nerves, stroking a long burning fire that brewed within her.

She could do nothing but thread her fingers through his hair, hips gently grinding on his face to search for that delicious friction she craved so much. Billy didn't mind the gentle tug on his roots, and simply slid down the underwear that was in his way and flattened his tongue with vigour against her, a broad stripe from her folds to focus his unwavering attention to her bud, if only to watch the way her thighs trembled in response.

The coil wound tight in her gut, and when she chanced a glance to see Billy's bright blue eyes looking back at her from between her legs, groaning, she nearly lost it entirely. The pleasant sting of his grip on her thighs where Billy was holding them apart, could not even be described.

Her fingers curled tighter, breath hot in her chest the feeling began to flood into her limbs, subconsciously grinding against his face as she rode out the high that shook her.

“-fuck! Billy-” is all she was able to whisper through hurried breaths, feeling that Billy was not about to falter until he had taken as much from her as he wanted, lapping up anything she gave him with a final flick of his tongue against her bud.

He laid one last kiss to the inside of her thigh before struggling to his feet with his fingers prying the buttons his jeans apart with difficulty. Merely watching him, she felt the dull buzz through her body still, and the rapid beating of her heart against her ribs.

Neither said a thing, too focussed on seeing each other like this for the first novel time. Her eyes followed the trail of dark blonde hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his black boxers before they came off as well. 

She'd never given much thought to how he looked without his clothes on, that would mean opening a door she'd long locked away. But once she saw him as she did now, chest moving with barely-contained desire, his large palm running up and down his shaft that stood tight against his abdomen - she felt herself clench around nothing. And suddenly, his body was all she was able to think about as she pressed her thighs together.

As quickly as she closed her legs, Billy was forcing them open again, and her cheeks went all hot as he knelt before her on the bed, his eyes zero’d in on what lay between her supple thighs. 

His hands drifted over her hips to her waist appreciatively, before taking his length in his hand and running the fat head of his cock over her glistening centre, “God, you're so fucking good-”

She was oversensitive, barely recovered from her first orgasm of the evening, and the sensation had her mouth go dry, but more so the lewd sound of her wetness. 

Billy looked as if he didn't know what to do with himself when she pushed him back slightly with a hand on his chest, a puzzled look replaced quickly by intrigue as she manoeuvred her way on top of him, with boyish blue eyes staring up at her where she now straddled him.

She'd never felt so daring in her life. Removing her shirt purely on instinct, and the bra quickly joining it, she couldn't help but tease herself on Billy's length, glazing him with her wetness, if not but for the way that line between his eyebrows furrowed together and his hips twitched with need, jutting up to meet her.

His fingers bruised her skin, “stop-” he groaned loudly, feeling as if he were embarrassingly close but still without the sensation of being inside her.

Her hand trailed down his chest, over his stomach, “I love you-” she took him and slowly sank onto him, the stretch stealing the air from her lungs for a brief moment, expelled in a choked moan. “Love you…”

For a moment, she stayed there, savouring his tortured expression before she moved herself on him, the soft sound of her buttocks against his thighs accompanied with Billy's hurried pants were like music.

“Fuck - don't stop-”

And as if she would, when he spoke to her like that. His eyes cracked open and locked on the way her breasts moved, his hands around her waist guiding her pace on him. When he looked at her so reverently, like a longing gaze, combined with the way his curved length teased her g-spot when she ground on him in this position, she was powerless to stop that growing peak rousing up inside her.

Billy groaned aloud, feeling her tighten and greedily suck him further inside her, “Oh my god-”

“Billy-” she'd be embarrassed if she could see herself, all drunk on sex with Billy like this. He leaned up, thrusting up into her at a faster and needier pace, while his lips took her right nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing it slightly.

She whined, her hand finding its way into his hair, meeting his hips halfway. With Billy guiding the speed instead it felt exciting, with each thrust the air felt knocked from her chest, amplified as Billy let her nipple fall from his mouth and trail up to her neck.

“I love you-” he murmured, one hand drifting up her spine to her nape, gently but insistently pulling at her hair to crush her lips to his.

She wanted to sob with joy. How long had she wanted to hear that? To feel loved? And now she was being loved by none other than Billy Washington. And she held onto him tight, not wanting to let go, and instead let out a sob of pure pleasure as his thrusts became deeper and more insistent the closer he was edging to his own end.

It was quickly driving her to her own.

“Please, Billy-”

She squeaked when he was the one this time to pull her by her waist and rut into her aggressively. His breath was hurried and hot against her neck, but he felt he could barely suck in air at all, putting all his energy into fucking her until she could scarcely think of anything else.

“always…” he breathed out loud, as if he had not realised. He echoed her words spoken in haste, in fear, just a few days before when she held his face and reassured him.

Beneath her hands, his shoulders tensed, and she could tell he was close. And when Billy's hand stole between them, his thumb gathering her wetness where he was still pounding into her, he began tight circles against her bud, propelling her over the edge with another choked cry of his name.

White hot pleasure bathed Billy as he held her tightly, too tightly, but she didn't protest, and he trembled as he felt himself come deep inside her, her walls too quivering around him, seeking to greedily tease as much from him as she could.

With chests pressed together, she held him close, sucking in air as Billy was doing. Her fingers loosened in his hair, the desperate hold turning more so to a gentle embrace, with Billy's length tucked inside her and softening rapidly.

In the aftermath, with the room hot with sex, Billy pulled away from her neck only to flutter his gorgeous blonde eyelashes up at her, blue eyes peeking from beneath them, and his lips curling up into a boyish smile. He remained inside her, and wanted to for as long as he could. Where she sank in his arms, he tightened his.

The thin layer of sweat on their skin made them both shiver slightly, and she could find no words for him, only the ones she had uttered in a state of unadulterated bliss moments before.

“I love you…”

And Billy echoed the ones he had too spoken. This time with no quiver to his voice. “Always.”

The soft glow of morning crept through the curtains, casting warm hues across the room. She had been awake for some time, watching as Billy slept soundly beside her, his tousled hair a golden halo against the pillow. With each gentle rise and fall of his chest, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, soothing the lingering echoes of the night before. She shivered at the rush of air on her bare arms, pulling the bedsheets to her chest, but also felt the warmth around her heart, like a balm for her soul.

When her phone buzzed, having been silenced since she escaped her flat yesterday afternoon, she smiled at the message from Libs.

She bit back a smile, and replied with a sneaky photo of Billy, slept on his front, but revealing nothing more than his boyishly charming sleeping face.

With her heart feeling whole, mind clear, and that dull ache in her chest somewhat healed, her eyes glanced up at him, appreciating him, she thought.

Yes, finally.

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[sketchehm]

I like to think the bitten vampire that finds Dream in the cave is Techno :3

He was just...passing by really. Kinda.

Bit more of world building was going on in my head and I have it where bitten vampires do go investigate cases of rogues. While there are hunters that are usually called if a town suspects a rogue vampire, a lot of seemingly normal towns have bitten vampires(humans being none the wiser) and would rather not risk an encounter with hunters...So they try to take care of it on their own...(as much as humans claim that killing vampires are a mercy and bittens look down upon that stance...unfortunately, the same kind of thinking goes through bitten when it comes to rogues...)

Maybe Skeppy sent Techno a letter about the weird rogue vampire they had recently. The townsfolk spreading rumors there must be a vampire who bit the brat who went rogue. He doesn't really think the kid who was turned would've been an unbitten since they were a rich asshole...so he's thinking the town may be right on this one. The rogue is dead though. Found mangled at the edge of the forest and he heard that it was maybe a wolf who got to the thing...

Unfortunately, nor he or Bad were able to check the body for a bite or for a scent. The townsfolk pretty quickly cremated the body as soon as it was found....aaaaand....Bad miiiight have found a runaway fledgling that he took in and it's really taking both of them to settle him in....so they really can't go investigating themselves.....

Be a pal and check it out pleaseeee!!! You aren't that far from us!! And end of springtime is so nice here!!! I know you wanna get out of the meetings Phil is always dragging you to!!

Just...to make sure there isn't some scent out in the forest!! It could be a one off thing, of course, but you can use the vacation!!! Thanks!!!! :P

Sigh.

And well, alright. The forest IS nice during this time of year...right before it gets too hot with the changing season, taking in the breeze.

He can tell there's two humans hunting around here. Normal. Better to avoid them. But. There's something....else?

Strange.

It's not...a rogue? The scent of madness isn't there....not really, maybe a note of it? It's definitely a vampire though, the scent of death is clear enough...but its so...young?

Fuck. Is it a fledgling? (No, no. Stop screaming baby in my head!!)

Maybe Skeppy is right and there's just some whacko who was here and causing some trouble..Ughhh

So he continues deeper into the forest. Back of his mind wondering how long has this fledgling been abandoned(can't be too long since its here in the forest and not causing terror in the town)...why there is no other lingering sent of a Sire....why is this scent so... strange? (A fledgling shouldn't have madness coming from them, that's an unbitten Only scent...)

And before Techno makes his way to the cave, Dream already is panicking. His instinct going crazy for the past few minutes and he doesn't know Why. The last time this happened was over a couple weeks ago already and Sapnap and George were in trouble but...but this is Different...he can't...he can't /move/. Frozen in fear. Something Dangerous is approaching. He thought when that rogue appeared it was bad but this is a /complete/ other level of threat....He needs! He needs his George and Sapnap...! He NEEDS his Sires!!

And once Techno finds the cave and makes his way to the entrance. Blood red slit pupil eyes(Dream: terrifying D:!!!) meeting widened green eyes, pupils pinpricks out of fear(Techno: hm. cute.)

......

"Hullo."

......

Oh. Oh great, it's scampering away further into the cave...well...at least it isnt attacking him, but...this isn't going to be an easy rescue, is it...

Techno's own instinct immediately falling in love with this fledgling!! And Techno is like. No, we can't take care of a baby right now. No, we can't bring it to our own nest. /No/, we cannot be this guy's new Sire. Sighhh... (but it can be ours!!! Look!!! Yes, yes he can see the fledgling too and it's very adorable...but this fledgling is going to be more work than is probably worth...)

It's just, in his own thoughts it's like "Phil will kill me if I leave this baby alone, it's basically half starved too :/" pfft

And Techno is not....good with handleing fledglings, ain't his thing, that's Phil's thing. And the poor guy can't even chirp or vocalize yet and is barely able to hiss at him, oh my god did it even have a single drop of its sire's blood?? This poor guy that's gotta be rough bro :/!

Dream hitting the back of the cave and cowering, making himself as small as he can (instincts trying to show how vulnerable he is, hes just a baby, vampire cant be mean to me stop stop go away im just baby!!), his instincts are going haywire. He feels so panicked and he thinks he's going to hyperventilate and oh god oh fuck he needs his Sires, where are they!? He's in danger!!! Theres... an actual vampire here, like!! a REAL one!!!....oh god oh Fuck!! Dream can't even bring himself to speak and tell the guy to go away, it feels like his throat is closing up but also trying to make noises he cant even comprehend...there's supposed to be no danger in the cave(nest), it's all wrong wrong wrong!!! He hates it he HATES it!

So Techno is not. The most gentle with Dream. Though tbf. He's grabbing Dream's wrist to pull him up but this fledgling is NOT cooperating. (Tbf Dream's legs are like jello and he can't even stand up himself..) It is....really struggling! For a half starved new fledgling! Surprisingly not still droopy from the recent transformation ...odd...must be a survival instinct thing....? He doesn't know, he rarely does rescues himself.

"Bruh. Calm down I'll get you blood, hold still." Dream...doesn't know what that means!! Blood is from his Sires only!! and this vampire is NOT his Sire!!!

Dream's baby instincts are just screaming in his head to run away run away runawayrunaway RUN AWAY!! (A little late for that dumb voice!!!)

Techno will release one of his wrists (Dream thought he was a large man but he's nothing compared to this vampire, he could've crushed Dream's wrists. He can hurt Dream! He needs to let go of Dream's other wrist, let go let go let GO!!!) and will instead grabbed his...cheeks?

"Alright, alright. Yes you're fussy, ok ok... Let's calm ya down. Just givin you a little alright? Just a little. So don't be greedy, I'm not gonna be your Sire, kay? That's gonna be my friend Phil, he's good with babies like you."

.....What the FUCK is this guy talking about??? Dream taking his free hand and trying to pull of this guy's giant hand off his face, what is he doing??

"Alright, let's see. I'm sure it's around here..." What weird vampire torture is this?? He's just squishy around his cheeks and jaw an- Ah?

"Ah! There ya go. Got a feeling yer gonna be difficult drinking too, hah."

Dream can't. Close his mouth?? There's a slight pressure that this guy is pressing on with his hand and he can't close his mouth??? Dream actually....can't move at all...? ?????

(His inner baby voice /is/ screeching like crazy)

Then the big scary vampire will let go of Dream's other wrist...? Both hands are free...? But he's just...sitting there limp?? HELP???

Dream does start. Tearing up at basically being the equivalent of vampire scuffed lmao..He doesn't know what's happening, he's terrified beyond belief, this...vampire saying and doing weird stuff to him...>:'(!!! It's been very difficult ok!!

"Geez...please not the waterworks, hold on. I know you probably miss your Sire (HE DOES!! WHERE ARE THEY???) but this will make ya feel better..just.. just give me second-"

And Techno needs his OWN instincts to calm down. Cause like...he's starting to realize the appeal of having a fledgling with them screaming at him of how cute it is and how amazing having a fledgling in the nest would be and to be more gentle, stop making the baby cry >:(!!! (No wonder Phil can't resist the urge for these...)

Techno will take his free hand, bring it to his mouth, and with his own fangs, slice his wrist. Blood starting to leak out.

Dream. Has never smelled anything so amazing before....all the blood from the animals George and Sapnap bring never really smelled like anything, even lacking the metallic tinge it used to have. This. this is is nothing like that. He suddenly feels very /very/ hungry.

Techno staring and seeing it's eyes dilate, pupils no longer pinprick, but large round saucers. Feeling the fledgling lose the tension it had and going limp in his hand.

Techno grins. Pleased. Satisfied. Him and his instincts in agreeance for once. Seeing the fledgling finally relax for Techno. (Conjuring images in his mind of this fledgling in his nest, holding it tight and close. It rubbing up into his chest seeking protection and love...)

Maybe bringing this one home wouldn't be so bad....would be a better excuse to get out of all those meetings.....hmmm.

Techno finally bringing his wrist to the fledglings mouth and let's his blood drip in. He really only needs to let it drink a small amount for it to completely calm down. This fledgling should be asleep really, and hopefully his blood can have it doze off long enough for him to return home with it. (To the nest!! Where it's safe for the baby!!)

But. Giving it a little more than necessary wouldn't be...so bad. Just enough so he can bond with it....so he can make sure its...content......yep!

Dream. Has never tasted anything so delicious before. He can't describe the taste. Just something inherently in his mind saying /Yes. This is good. More more more./

But Dream let's it pool in his mouth. He wont swallow(as much as his instincts have changed their mind and insist to consume it, swallow it greedily and to keep drinking more and more..) because he's good. He knows he needs to wait....

Techno realizing the damn thing isn't swallowing. Still being difficult. Well, Techno is always up for a good challenge. His fledgling will be a little fighter, and he can feel himself preening at the prospect of raising someone to be like him now...(ok, he gets it Phil, he really does...damn bastard isnt going to let this down...)

Techno let's go of it's face, and it immediately clinging to the arm that's feeding blood into it's mouth. Strange. The fledgling Does want his blood (good good ours only ours) but isn't swallowing it...

"Whats wrong, hm? Drink as much as you want, until your full," Techno resting his free hand on top of the mop of curls. Tangled and dirty (he can take such good care of it when they get home, it just needs to drink), but still managing to scratch it's head, eyes turning droopy, but still gripping tight onto his arm.

Dream's instincts whining that this vampire is so mean to him >:'( His Sires never taunted him like that, never makes him wait this long. His Sires are so much nicer and less scary!! (Are his Sires blood this good? Will they let him feed from them?)

"Go on, you ca-"

"Dream?"

Oh right. THIS is why he doesn't want a fledgling. All his instincts hyperfocused on the baby and not even realizing the two humans(humans!! Not even another vampire!) from before just waltzing up to this cave. How EMBARRASSING.

Techno will turn his head and look at the two humans, he can tell they're scared, doesn't even need to smell it. But he does and oddly. This fledgling's scent is all over them too...

That's George! His Sires are back :D! But. Oh right. This vampire is still here. Thats...that's bad..? His head is so cloudy and heavy. The blood still in his mouth and he's being good he's being good. He's not swallowing! Just like they taught him!! Oh but he's being bad right now he can't go scent them!! Oh no, oh no!! (Dream is Not really liking how this baby voice is in front of the steering wheel right now!)

"Let him go."

Great. Like this is fantastic! Both humans already aiming their bows at him. Which really is nothing but...there's like a baby here?? And well...he eyes the dead rabbits they have hanging from their belts. He can already tell it's meant for the fledgling, not for themselves. Oh, he gets it.

"Fellas fellas! Surely we can come to an understandin. I know you don't want your friend getting hurt and I don't want it getting hurt, so like. Mutual agreement there, yea?"

"What are you doing to him?"

They still didn't put the bows down. Annoying.

Sapnap sounds mad...is he mad at him? Dream hopes not. But he can't go see them, he's feeding and he doesn't want to waste cause that's bad too!! But he missed them so much!!

Techno can sense the fledgling becoming restless. If only it would swallow his blood this would be SO much easier.

"Alright. I know you guys just wanna help your friend. Real sorry he got bit and all that. But like, I'm just gonna take it off your hands now, yea? Would hate to have to hurt you two considering I can tell it likes you two as well."

They aren't making a move. Tense.

"Dream, come here." Oh, Dream. That's a nice name.

"Your friend is kinda busy, unfortunately. Being really difficult actually. You guys have any idea what that's about?"

Okay. Maybe he shouldn't be dragging this conversation. If the fledgling doesn't swallow he can always try and feed it again once they've made it back home. He'll have fresh blood in him after this anyways. He hates for his fledgling having to watch him drain it's friends but. They'll have plenty of time to get over it.

"You're feeding him blood?" "Can you help us?"

....

"Heh?"

Now they're lowering their weapons.....Heh???? Where'd the fear go? What's happening?? They're just walking up to him, what's happening, what are they doing?? There's no malicious intent....maybe some hesitation? But nothing that's triggering his instincts to kill these humans. This is weird. This is Weird!

"Whats wrong with him?" "Are you helping him?"

"Uhh....."

They're both just on either side of him and looking at the fledgling. What is this. He's never met humans so casual with him before. Even when he's pretending to be a human(Phil says he's Awkward.)

"Whats wrong Dreamie?"

The fledgling whines.

Oh. "It's not swallowing."

"Dream, swallow."

The relief that floods through Dream at finally being able to drink. And he gulps and gulps. And it's delicious and he loves it and he just wants to drink it forever. Until. Until..

"HEH?"

"Sorry, we taught him that so in case he goes all crazy he won't just be sucking everyone's blood, ya know?"

Techno is staring at the human on his right. He's got brown hair and is petting the fledgling's hair. They. These humans trained this fledgling like a dog. Huh. He's heard stories of humans able to control vampires as weapons but....this is clearly not that...?

Though Techno isn't able to ponder any further as he can already feel the bond forming now with the blood connecting them. Despite these...bizarre humans, he's still bringing this fledgling home (maybe he needs to bring these two humans as well....no. NO. NOT 3 FLEDGLINGS SHUT IT.)

Fledgling? Fledgling?

Who? Confused. Who?

You. Fledgling. Young. Thirsty. Full?

Who?

You.

Who?

"How much does he have to drink?"

Techno startled from the forming bond. This is. strange. Usually this is an Intimate. Thing. Feeding a fledgling. His own instincts still on the whack and just cooing at the baby, so happy it's finally drinking from him. (Stop suggesting to turn the other two humans. He is Not doing that.)

"Uhh...Just enough to form a bond....?"

"Whats that?"

This is too much for Techno. Why is he explaining this to humans. Why are they so nonchalant???

"Ya know. Usually humans are screaming and running away from me."

"Yea, but you're helping Dream. Right? And we've never seen another vampire act like...Dream before. He usually knows when something is bad anyways. And he looks pretty relaxed right now."

....he wishes Phil was here right now.

"Right...I'm gonna- you know what. Once it's done you we can all have a little Q&A session."

"Alright." They both say. They're. Strange.

Full?

No. More more. Hungry. Good.

Enjoy Sire's blood?

Who?

Sire. Your Sire.

No.

Yes.

No!

Techno sends authority through the bond, his fledgling still fighting. But instead of submission....he feels panic coming through the bond now. Too much panic. That's not-

Dream rips himself off Techno's wrist. He's gasping and whining. Holding his head and yanking at his hair.

"Dream? What's wrong?!" The two humans are trying to comfort the fledgling. But it just keeps whining.

Then. Suddenly the bond is just. Cut.

Dream vomits.

So like.

That kinda was getting away from me pfft. Anyways Techno gets covered in blood and bile oops. Very gross. Very upsetting. It's George and Sapnap yelling and being grossed out. Dream, in true baby fashion, is crying. (He does hate he gets like that)

Anyways once they get settled again (Techno is waiting for his top to dry out in the sun, the three of them are NOT ogling)(Techno is wondering how he got himself in this situation), it's the four of them sitting in this dingy lil cave and snf talking about Dream to Techno. (Techno witnessing Dream scenting the two. Oh. Oh no. This fledgling thinks those two are his Sires..his own instincts ramping back up in anger and want and-.)

Dream's instincts radically quieted down now that snf are back and he's happily drinking from his rabbits (he much rather the bland tasting blood than whatever Techno's blood was doing to his head. He didn't like it!!)

Snf eventually going "oh yea no he wasn't bitten he just died and became like this. Lmao."

Techno. Mind boggled. That's not. Normal.

It's a lot of exposition, a lore drop if you will, explaining to snf the difference between bitten and unbitten.(kinda) How unbittens are more like vampires with rabies and he's never seen one before who is....like Dream. Snf trying to explain their town has a lot of old vampire knowledge and were just following the stuff they heard growing up. Along with doing their own research and going through some dusty old books. Which really consistent of warnings on how not to turn into a vampire and that a lot of blood is needed to keep them satiated. But they never really knew vampires are usually sensible. They thought Dream was unique in that aspect. (which he kinda is in this time period, for an unbitten)

Tbf. Bitten vampires themselves don't really have a lot of unbitten knowledge, they know some legends like how they came to be because of unbittens but believe it was purely chance that it happened. They know unbittens are usually caused by people who had it rough in life ("oh...so Not cause Dream was a troublemaker." "Bruh how does that make any sense" "how does your reasoning make any sense either" "...can't argue with that."), and that unbittens usually have a bit of clarity for a couple days before going mad and even trying to prevent it is fruitless, at least to their knowledge (not that bitten have tried very hard to help unbitten, mostly cause they never really have the chance to)

"We call it a madness scent. That's how we can tell which vampires are going rogue from lack of blood or because they're an unbitten. We can always help a vampire recover after giving them some blood. Unless it's an unbitten. There's no coming back after that from what we know, they need a constant supply of blood, as you guys know, but I only need to drink every so often and not that much either as we get older. I have no idea what my blood could do to Dream honestly. Probably why he threw it up."

They all look at Dream. He releases his rabbit and starts to explain himself that the blood actually tasted really good! But he didn't like the voice in his head, his body just vomited out of reaction to get it to stop.

"You didn't like the bond?"

"I. Didn't mind it at first? But..." He can still feel the echos of Techno trying to establish himself as his Sire, he feels queasy..."I didn't like it after."

Hm. Odd. Techno doesn't exactly have the best fledgling knowledge either, just what his instincts say (which are currently whining that their fledgling rejected them!! They have to try again!!!)

Oh well...This all does lead to a very weird Human and "Acutal" Vampire friendship between him and snf. Which snf are totally chill with (more fascinated that not all vampires are just blood thirsty monsters) and Techno. Has human friends who knows he's a vampire too, so he guesses this isn't new....it's just....

"So. This is gonna be awkward. But I'm still have to take Dream with me."

"HUH?"

The three of them wildly confused and Dream almost choking on his rabbit blood. Sure, now snf were given the base knowledge of what a fledgling needs to grow up healthy but...they've been fine as it is!

"Bruh. You won't be able to satisfy him forever, he's still an unbitten. You guys give him barely anything everyday (hey!), what happens when winter comes and there's no more game hm? Also going by fledgling standards, he's not getting any vampire blood, a stunted fledgling is gonna lead to all sorts of issues too."

"We'll figure it out."

George is insistent, Sapnap is fidgety.

"Could we come along if you really do have to take him?"

Techno can feel the start of a headache with his instincts chanting '3 fledglings!! 3 fledglings!!'

"Sure. Fine." (Yayayayay!!! ....Shut UP.)

"No!!"

The 3 of them staring at Dream. He looks like. He's about about to cry again...

Sapnap and George already crowding around Dream(Techno prickles at how close they are to his fledgling) and asking him what's wrong, why can't they go? He'd be healthy and these are friendly vampires to us, it'll be fine, they can help take care of you. We can finally move on for a better life yea?

It's not helping. Dream trying really hard not to cry. He really is. Sapnap and George are right!! This is the best opportunity theyve ever gotten!! But his instincts are so overwhelmed now!!! They want him to leave the cave(nest)!! He can't leave!! He just can't!! (Just a baby, baby can't leave nest. Left nest too many times already, it's bad and dangerous and can't leave!!)

"Well if Dream doesn't want to leave, you can't take him."

George says it so matter-of-factly. Like Techno doesn't have the power to just rip the fledgling away from them and force himself as Dream's new Sire. It wouldn't be hard forcing the fledgling to not throw the blood back up, to keep it inside until it's all absorbed. Forcing the bond. (His instincts say Yes yes. Anything to bring the baby home. Make it ours. Make the fledgling ours.)

But Techno will look at Dream's watery green eyes one more time...

He sighs. There's no helping it. If he were able to re-Sire Dream earlier this wouldn't be an issue but Dream is apparently freaked out by bonds (Techno suspects its cause he imprinted on humans instead of a vampire). And he wouldn't want to make his fledgling so stressed out, he wants Dream to come to him. And Dream will. Techno just...needs to do a little more research (and make his nest big enough to fit three fledglings for no reason at all).

"Fine. But I'm going to return to make sure you three aren't all dead. I need to ask a friend about all of," he motions to them, "this thing you guys have going on. An unbitten fledgling with two human sires. I sound ridiculous just sayin it out loud."

Techno is coming back :0!! Dream's instincts aren't too displeased by that! (Actually hoping he might stay forever now that this is a nice vampire. Be part of the coven!! Forever with George and Sapnap :D!!)

"I can't believe I'm leaving this fledgling homeless..." Phil is gonna kill him....

"HEY >:0!"

Before Techno leaves Dream does end up scenting him too. Which. Makes it very hard to actually leave. But this cave is dingy and he needs more info from Phil (without Phil actually coming here too or they're gonna be fighting who gets to keep the baby) He leaves as the sun is just starting to set and Dream does ask if maybe Techno can stay :(!!! (He knows his Sires will be leaving soon too....he doesn't wanna be alone...) (Techno knows if he stays the night he Won't be leaving ever, instincts Will root him here too) Techno declines. He'll be back before mid summer surely.

George and Sapnap. Aren't very pleased seeing Dream rub up against Techno. That's their new thing Dream does to them Only. Sure Techno says that's actually vampire behavior and not Dream suddenly being very cuddly. Were they vampires there would be fighting happening right now. They're just mildly affected by Dream's baby aura lmao It'll get worse as time passes :)

There is a lot snf don't end up asking Techno cause they are focused on this topic of bitten and unbitten and some sparse fledgling care knowledge(which snf cant really provide unfortunately). Techno also isn't a fountain of information here either, written knowledge is for humans cause they forget and die and need to tell their descendants whatever they gotta. Vampires can just. Remember. And live basically forever. There is common knowledge amongst all vampires(typically) but a lot of it is just word of mouth, sharing knowledge with each other. But vampires aren't really the traveling bunch either. Leaving the nest is probably the only time a vampire will travel to find their own place to set up a home, but even most vampires don't do that. The years that a fledgling is supposed to be in a nest is when they're learning everything from their Sires too. Very key developmental period yes yes

Techno does know more than the average since he does go traveling town to town to help out, but it isn't much help to Dream's situation. It's also strange to be delving this knowledge to humans, kind of taboo. Don't want that info getting to hunters.....(not foreshadowing)

Anyways the friendly encounter snf have with Techno will 100% make them believe all bitten vampires are cool. This will lead to future issues :).

I think that's it for now? There's a few things I wanted to expand on more since its really vague and this is all a pretty summarized interaction but meh another time lmao

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 5/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Notes below!

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

Ever since his redemption (a perplexing event he still couldn't fathom), Sir Pentious had never left Emily's side at all. Well, more like he wasn't allowed to leave the young Seraph's side at all. That tall lady, Sera, proved to be stricter than dear Vagatha.

Confined to a single floor among Heaven's bright buildings, he shared quarters with the Seraphs. Sera had instructed him to remain there until she could resolve the issue at hand.

He has no idea what the other means by that. Wasn't his redemption already the resolution they needed?

The snake demon- nope, angel now- felt an urge to consult Emily about it, as she reminded him greatly of Charlie. Yet, he never got the opportunity, when one day he was abruptly awoken and whisked away before he could even really wake up.

Sir Pentious: Emily, dear, where exactly are we going?

Emily: Last time, Sera said she had a meeting with the Heavenly Virtues, so I told her to tell them about you being a redeemed soul from Hell.

Sir Pentious: And who, pray tell, are thesssssse.. Virtuesssssss?

Emily: The Archangels of Heaven. They're the highest authority here just under the Lord.

Sir Pentious: Miss Charlie didn't mention any Archangels during her trial.

Emily: They weren't there. They put all their trust in Sera to handle those kinds of matters but... After the last extermination, there was no hiding Sera can do anymore. And when she was called for that meeting, I begged her to tell them about you.

Sir Pentious: I will guess that she hasssssn't?

Emily: She didn't! I can't believe her. She came back and she's refusing to see me or even go back to tell them! So, I'm making an executive decision to tell them myself.

Sir Pentious: Do I really have to be there?

Emily: Of course! You're living- uhh- dead? proof that a soul can be redeemed! Now come on!

Sir Pentious: Are you ssssssure we're allowed here, dear?

Emily had been noticeably fidgety—a trait Sir Pentious recognized all too well. From past experience, he understood that such behavior either means discomfort, fear, or guilt. He isn't sure what she's thinking right now.

Emily: Um- yep!

Sir Pentious: Then why are we sneaking in?

The angel's expression confirmed his suspicions. Right on the money.

Emily: Well- I- just follow me!

Emily continued to open random doors while dragging Sir Pentious along, seemingly determined to find a specific room among them. Despite their covert mission, they managed to evade any detection so far. Yet, the newly redeemed soul couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone in the building.

Emily: One of these rooms has to belong to one of them.

As Emily expressed her determination, a fleeting glimpse of familiar red and white caught Sir Pentious' attention.

He instinctively turned his head towards the direction, only to find the hallway empty. There's a nagging sensation compelling him to investigate further.

Emily intervened, grabbing his arm before he could even move away.

Emily: Sir Pentious! What are you doing?

Sir Pentious: I think I sssssaw ssssssomething, deary.

Emily's sudden burst of excitement propelled them both towards the direction where Sir Pentious claimed to have seen the figure vanished.

Emily: Do you think it's an Archangel? I hope so. We might get in trouble if it's anyone other than them. Then again, I've never been in this building before and I'm not really allowed but I'm technically acting Seraphim right now so-

Her words trailed off into rambling, but Sir Pentious paid her no mind, his focus is entirely on tracking the elusive figure. However, they couldn't catch up as they lost it amidst the labyrinth of corridors.

Sir Pentious: Hmmm. Perhaps it was no one-

The building suddenly shook so hard causing them to fall on the floor. It stopped just as quickly as it happened.

Emily: What was that?!

Sir Pentious: Emily, doesssss Heaven get earthquakessssss?

Emily: I don't even know what those are!

As Sir Pentious and Emily cautiously approached the door from which the sound of bickering emanated, they exchanged a knowing glance. With silent agreement, they inched closer, their curiosity piqued by the faint golden glow seeping through a suspiciously well-placed crack on the door just perfect for their eyes.

Sir Pentious chose to say nothing about it.

Peeking through the cracks, they find themselves shocked at who was at the other side of the door.

Michael: You don't understand! I- it was such a hard decision! It was the best option! I'm Heaven's protector and- Lucifer: You were my protector too!

Emily: Archangel Michael?! / Sir Pentious: His Majesty?!

Emily: His- wait. What do you mean?

Sir Pentious: That'ssssss His Majessssty, Lucifer!

Gasping a little too loudly, Emily's hands flew to cover her mouth.

A part of her wants to go back to the Archangel's words. Where did she hear that before?

Emily: Charlie's dad?? As in the King of-

Michael: -on their knees in front of people other than our Lord. It took so many meetings for them to relent. That's why you and Lilith spent a long time held in the Garden. Lucifer: Shut up. Michael: So, I'm really sorry that we let you down. Lucifer: Shut up, Michael! Michael: But if I had the chance to go back, I would do it all over again.

As Emily listened to the heated exchange between the Archangels, a pang of empathy tugged at her heart. She couldn't help but wonder if someone could truly utter such hurtful words even in the midst of apologies. She doesn't blame Charlie's dad one bit if she were in his shoes. If Sera hurt her like that...

Ah. But Sera did hurt her. She lied to her.

Amidst the confusing emotions swirling within her, Emily's acute senses picked up something else from within the room—voices that didn't belong to the two arguing Archangels. The threads are-

Lucifer: You should've killed me when you had the chance. And now you think you can beat me at my own game?

Wait a second. Where had she heard about golden thread before? What did Sera say? That every soul's destiny, human or not, was already determined by the-

Emily: Oh no. No no no no! Sir Pentious we have to get out here before they see us!

Sir Pentious: Young miss, the Archangel you need is beyond that door plus His Majesty! We can relay the news faster to Charlie this way!

There's manic laughter now but Emily is far too panicked think of it.

Lucifer: Divine move? Divine move? You think you have any moves at all?!

She's pulling him with all her might but the winner is stubborn.

Emily: This room- We aren't allowed here! We're not even allowed to see it! Sera said this is the room of The F-

Lucifer: Maybe then, Heaven could've killed that weak, naive angel. But me? ME?! Ì̶̢̤̉'̵͙͕͑M̷̱͋̀ ̵̬͌T̴̥͠͝H̸̫́̑E̶̳̠̐̎ ̴̠̣̎̐D̷̼̕E̵̢̳͆V̶̳̩̉̋Ì̶̬L̴̥̗̾ ̴̮͝F̸̝̓̀Ų̸̠͗̑C̵͚͗K̷̺̚̚I̵̠̋̕Ň̸͎͈G̵̘̔ ̵̤͛I̸̩͐N̷̥̰̋C̸͓̒̍A̴̙̓R̵͍͛N̴̤͎͠A̵͇̟̓Ṯ̴̯͊Ḙ̴͑̇,̴̰͆̑ ̵̤́ͅÝ̴̙̫̈́O̵͚͐͒U̵̙͂ ̷̱̆͜͝Ċ̸͍̌Á̷̰́N̸͉̈'̶͇̎͂T̵̠̒ ̶͖́K̶̛̲̮̆I̸͎̘͐̃L̴̟̙̔̿L̴̜̾͊ ̶̱̥̌M̵̳̕E̵͈̯͋́!

For the 2nd time that day, they fell as the ground shook with the screams inside.

They scrambled to their feet just in time to witness a terrifying sight—the manifestation of Lucifer's wrath in all its terrifying glory.

Emily's blood ran cold as she saw the scene unfolding before her, mind struggling to comprehend the Devil. The air crackled with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine, and her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Michael: Lucifer—what? Why do you look like that? What did you-

She refuses to believe this is Charlie's dad.

Emily: T-t-that's the K-king of Hell?

She doesn't know why she expected Sir Pentious to be smug or even be proud that this scary being was his former King. But he wasn't. In fact, he looks just as afraid as she is.

Sir Pentious: No. It isssss not.

Lucifer: Don't worry, Mika. I won't die that easily because I'll be there to watch Heaven fall.

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

Even after the King of Hell departed and the Archangel Michael fell silent, Sir Pentious and Emily remained rooted to the spot, hesitant to leave yet also unwilling to enter the room. The lingering tension in the air held them in its grip.

It was the former sinner who spoke up first.

Sir Pentious: Thissss isss our chance, Emily.

Emily: Sir Pentious, maybe we should find another person we could talk to.

Sir Pentious: Come now, little missy. We've already missed His Majesty, and we barely could find a single soul in this building! An Archangel is right there and we must seize this opportunity!

Emily: Shhhhhh! If Sir Michael hears us even near this room, I don't know how I'll tell this to Sera.

Sir Pentious: Do not shush me, young lady! I'll have you know I-

The sudden swing of the door startled both Sir Pentious and Emily, freezing them in place like deer caught in headlights. Before them stood the champion of Heaven, the head of the Archangels, the protector of her home, wearing an expression that Emily could only describe as surprised—though she was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown to really be sure.

Emily: Archangel Michael! We-uh- we can explain!

Sir Pentious: Your Heavenly Grace!

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

short my ass, aldjlakla the day had been busy so sorry for the late upload!

I had help from chatgpt again to avoid any redundant words cos I am no English native haha

[yesbutmakeitgay]

I'd Circle 'Round The World And Keep Coming Back To You

GIF by marvelladiesdaily

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 8

Reunions, Bittersweet.

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling <3

Word count: 1k

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

Carol enters her ship after another successful mission wanting for nothing more than to relax and rest while reaching her next destination, that is, until she senses someone else’s presence in her space home.

She walks slowly, pointing one of her lit up fists in a general forward direction, "I know you’re in here, who are you? Who sent you?" she warns the intruder.

A human silhouette appears in her line of vision, it’s arms up in surrender. She continues to walk towards it so she can make out the person’s face.

"It’s me," you announce, hoping that’s enough to deter her threatening state.

"Oh, hey," she greets you with surprise and quickly puts her fist down.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" Carol asks in genuine confusion.

"I got stranded a few days ago," you explain nervously, "I saw your ship and I just…I hope you don’t mind."

"No, of course not, are you okay?"

"I think so."

She isn't so sure about your answer, but decides not to press you, "Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"That would be great, thank you."

She makes her way to the ship's control panel, "Where to?"

"Um, home?" you hesitate.

Carol pauses her movements and turns to you, "And, where is that now?"

"I’m not sure," you whisper back.

The Captain thinks for a moment, "I have a couple of missions left out here and then I'm going to Earth to visit a friend, why don't you come with me?"

"Alright."

Carol whips up a quick dinner, and you sit at the table together, "You have a nice home here, Danvers, a lot livelier than I remember," you comment, looking around the ship.

A reminiscing smile grows on her face, "Yeah, it's been a while."

"What's with all the drawings of yourself?" you ask, pointing to the cartoonish versions of Captain Marvel on the fridge.

She chuckles, "Kamala made those."

"Kamala? Is that a partner?" you wonder, trying to sound casual.

"Teammate, friend!" It comes out more aggressively than she intends.

You hum in understanding, "Still riding the Yan train, then?"

"He's just a friend, you know that," she protests, faking annoyance.

Your features turn more serious, "You and I used to be friends too."

"We're still friends," she frowns, "aren't we?" There’s a trace of sadness in her voice.

You answer with another question, "How often do you see your friends, Captain?"

Carol is taken aback by it, "Not as often as I'd like," she stutters.

"And how often do you make out with them?"

The ship is quiet for a moment.

"You've made your point." Carol accepts her defeat getting up to clear the table as you follow to help her, "I hate to be that guy, but you should take a shower," she suggests when you’re done cleaning up.

"What? You don’t like my 'I’ve been stranded on a strange planet for four days' smell?" you joke.

"Nope," she responds, accentuating the 'p,' "you can borrow some clothes if you want."

"Way ahead of you, Captain," you yell back as you walk to the bathroom.   

When you come out, Carol notices that you're hurt, "Come here," she instructs.

"What?" You walk toward her on the couch, a little puzzled.

"Sit," you do as you're told, "why are you limping?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't lie to me," she gently takes your leg and brings it over her lap, "you sprained your ankle," she states as a fact.

"It's nothing," you try to downplay it.

"It's huge, stop being stubborn." She gets up to gather some supplies and when she returns she wraps your ankle up and gives you an ice pack, "There are more in the freezer when this one melts."

"Thanks," is all you can say.

Carol goes to her bedroom, and you insist on sleeping on the couch rather than sharing a bed with her.

The Captain wakes up in the middle of the night and sees light coming through the bottom of her door. She comes out to investigate and finds you wide awake, looking out the window.

"Can't sleep?" Carol’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"I could never get used to the feeling of the spaceship," you reply, still looking to the outside.

"You should try flying alone," she quips as she sits beside you and looks at what's mesmerizing you so much.

You grab a small picture that’s tucked in the window frame, "Where’s this?" you whisper.

"That's New Asgard."

"Where Valkyrie lives?" Carol hums in response, "We used to visit her a lot."

"I remember."

"Do you still visit her?" you ask, out of simple curiosity.

There is a sense of woe in her words, "When I can."

"Remember that time we got to ride on her Pegasus?"

"Oh, yeah!" A smile grows on Carol's face.

"You told me you loved me for the first time that day."

She scoots closer to you, and you lay your head on her shoulder, the ship is so quiet you can hear each other's breathing.

"Do you ever think of me?" Her voice is barely audible.

"Don’t ask me that."

"Do you?" she insists.

You pause for a beat, "I didn’t get stranded," Carol looks at you confused, "I heard you were stopping by, so I went to see you."

Her brows furrow, "Why?"

"Because I miss you, because nothing’s been the same since I lost you."

"But we were friends, we’re still friends!" she objects in an oblivious tone.

"That’s just something people say," you respond with a bittersweet smile, "the universe needs Captain Marvel, I just wanted Carol."

"That’s not fair."

"I was tired of fighting with the universe for your attention," you chuckle sadly, "that sounds so selfish of me. This is your job, it’s your life and you love doing it. That’s what makes the great Captain Marvel." You finally look at her.

"So, what now? Will you come find me again in two years?"

"Maybe I can stay a little longer," you hope, almost as if asking for permission.

"I would like that, I love you, I always will."

I love this one so much.

@wolf79

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 18)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut, Torture

Words: 2,566

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

In the dimly lit labyrinth of the laboratory, the brilliant minds congregated in solitude, their shadows dancing along the walls as they delved deep into the secrets of science. The atmosphere was thick with tension and secrecy, as each scientist knew that their work held the key to unleashing the destructive power of the atom.

As you sat there, lost in thought, trying to comprehend the magnitude of our endeavours, you felt a sudden chill run down your spine that day, feeling as though something was not right.

Little did you know that the universe was aligning against you, and you were soon to be caught up in a sinister web of deceit and betrayal.

Without warning, armed guards burst into the laboratory, their faces grim and unforgiving. Their commander, Officer Pash, followed closely behind them, his eyes burning with intensity. With a coldness that froze your very core, he commanded your arrest without ever revealing his intentions. Before you could say anything, you were whisked away, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty.

"Excuse me. This hasn't been cleared with Dr Oppenheimer, has it? She can't just leave, we have work to do," a fellow scientist argued, being the only one who was at the laboratory with you this morning while the others, from adjacent facilities, watched on as you struggled against the handcuffs that had been placed on you. 

"Don't worry sir, Dr. Oppenheimer knows about this," the officer reassured calmly. "He approved the arrest," he continued on, and the scientist hesitated for a moment before looking over to where you and the officer were.

In that brief instant, a silent communication passed between you two as you shook your head. 

"He doesn't know. He wouldn't have agreed to have me arrested like this," you told your colleague who gave you a nod of understanding.

A mixture of sorrow and confusion played out across his face as he saw your handcuffed wrists, understanding that you were no longer free to continue working together. You turned back to look at him once more, offering a subtle nod and a faint smile, begging him, without words, to see Robert. 

***

"Can you tell me what this is about?" you asked calmly as Officer Pash led you through the labyrinthine corridors, past numerous other scientists, some recognising you but most likely unaware of the situation unfolding around them.

"Shut up and keep walking. You will find out soon enough,"

Pash replied curtly, making sure to keep his voice low so as not to attract unwanted attention. His firm grip on your arm ensured that you remained close by as you walked through the dimly lit corridors all the way to a vehicle where a bag was placed over your head. The sense of unease continued to grow inside you, filling your chest with an overwhelming heaviness.

The journey took far longer than you anticipated, taking a long drive followed by a walk through several mazes of concrete hallways and sterile rooms filled with equipment, all eerily devoid of life save for the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows upon the walls.

Each step you took brought you closer to the unknown destination while dread continued to build within your chest, threatening to break loose and consume you entirely. Your heart raced, palms sweating as your body seemed to be alive with anxiety. The constant pounding of your heart thumped in your ears, drowning out even the sound of Officer Pash's heavy boots.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Robert, thinking that there would have been no way that he agreed to this, knowing that you were pregnant with his child. 

You knew he cared deeply for you, yet still, he never said a word about any impending arrests or investigations. Was this Officer Pash lying? Had someone else informed him of your relationship with Robert and manipulated the situation? 

Your head swam with these questions as the bag was removed from your head, and you found yourself in a cold, brightly lit room filled with rows of filing cabinets. The harsh fluorescent lighting cast harsh shadows on the walls, making it feel as if you were trapped in a nightmare.

Your mind raced with possibilities, attempting to piece together the reason for your abduction. You wondered how Robert would react when he discovered you missing. Would he think you had abandoned him? Or would he suspect foul play and search for you relentlessly?

Just as you began to lose hope and despair, Officer Pash re-entered the room, closing the door behind him. He approached you silently, his shadow stretching across the floor like a dark tendril. His presence made your skin crawl.

His cold gaze bore into yours, seemingly capable of seeing straight through your soul. A wave of terror coursed through your veins, causing your heart to race wildly in your chest. Officer Pash approached you slowly, methodically, moving with calculated precision. The space between you felt almost tangible, an invisible barrier that both repelled and drew you toward him simultaneously. Your breath caught in your throat, your hands trembling with fear and anticipation. His proximity alone made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and utterly defenceless against whatever intentions he may hold.

His presence was suffocating, engulfing you in a darkness that threatened to devour your very essence. Your legs quivered beneath you, your body trembling with fear and anticipation as Officer Pash moved ever closer.

"Someone has leaked information to the Soviets," he stated coldly, his eyes boring into yours. 

"If you are suggesting that I have ties with the communists, then you are mistaken. I am loyal to the project and the development of the gadget," you answered, desperately trying to maintain your composure despite the mounting fear and panic inside you.

Officer Pash raised an eyebrow, a sceptical glint in his eye.

"Then why did I find these documents hidden beneath your bed?" he asked, and you bit your lip, uncertain how to respond.

"I didn't put these there. I don't even have access to these files,"

you argued, your voice wavering slightly under the weight of your fear.

"But someone had to have taken them from Dr Oppenheimer's office and hid them there," Officer Pash countered, his tone unwavering. "And you were the last person seen with Dr. Oppenheimer before these went missing."

You felt your heart sink in your chest, knowing that the evidence against you appeared to be mounting.

"Dr Oppenheimer and I...," you began to say, your thoughts racing as you tried to come up with a plausible explanation. The air in the room became thick with the weight of your fear, your breath catching in your throat as you fought to regain control of your emotions.

"Dr Oppenheimer and you?" Officer Pash queried, unaware of your affair.

"Well, I... I don't know how those documents got there," you stammered, unable to meet Officer Pash's unwavering gaze. "It must be some sort of setup," you added, hoping to convince him of your innocence.

"Someone is trying to sabotage the project by framing me as a spy," you pointed out, but the Officer simply laughed.

"Frame you, out of all people at Los Alamos?"

Officer Pash scoffed, his scepticism evident in his tone. "This isn't some small operation you're involved in here. It's a top-secret government project, and you've somehow managed to get entangled in a dangerous game of espionage. Why is that?" he asked before leaning over the desk and reaching for your throat, pressing down tightly. 

You let out a muffled cry as your world started to spin, everything going black for a split second. When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself bound to a chair, facing Officer Pash, who stood before you with a look of triumph etched on his face. 

"Since you won't cough up the information I am after voluntarily, we will have to implement some measures to aid your compliance moving forward," he declared with a cruel grin. 

"I prefer doing these things the Russian way," he then announced as the room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on you with crushing force. Your heart raced, adrenaline flooding your system, leaving you feeling lightheaded and weak.

You tried to focus on your breathing, to stay present and alert amidst the rapidly escalating tension. As Officer Pash paced around the room, you could hear the sound of his boots echoing against the hard surface, creating an ominous rhythm that underscored the growing sense of danger surrounding you. His every movement seemed calculated, each step sending a shiver down your spine.

As the tension reached its peak, the silence between you grew almost deafening. Sweat dripped down your forehead, causing you to wipe it away with a trembling hand.

Your heart hammered in your chest, fear coursing through your veins. Officer Pash circled you, his eyes holding a calculating gleam. You could sense the power he held over you, a power that you could not match in this darkened room. Despite your attempt to remain composed, your voice shook with anxiety as you spoke. "Why would anyone want to frame me as a spy? I don't understand!" you cried and, without breaking his stride, Officer Pash chuckled darkly.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you are all innocent after what your father has been arrested for?" he stopped pacing, fixing you with a piercing gaze. "You see, I have no idea how you got clearance for a project like this in the first place," he paused, allowing the silence to fill the room.

As you struggled to maintain your composure, Officer Pash stepped towards you once more, his footfalls echoing against the hard floor, intensifying the feeling of being trapped in this darkened room. With each step, your heart raced faster, your breath became shallow. His eyes held a sinister glint, one that sent a shiver down your spine. He circled you, the intensity of his gaze causing your own to widen in fear.

"Let me tell you something," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "We will get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Whether it takes hours, days, weeks…or even months."

The thought of spending endless days and nights in this dim, chilling room, subjected to Officer Pash's relentless interrogation, sent a fresh wave of terror surging through your veins.

"No, please!" you begged for mercy as Officer Pash brought another fabric bag and placed it over your head. 

You gasped in fear, struggling to breathe as the sensation of suffocation consumed you, your heart racing with terror. 

Pain exploded in your body as his strong hands bound your wrists tightly to the arms of the chair, restricting your movements and adding to your helplessness. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, but the reality of your situation sank in: you were trapped, completely at his mercy.

You fought back tears, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart hammered wildly in your chest. "I can help you find the truth," you pleaded weakly, your voice hoarse from fear before. Suddenly, your head was being pulled back and cold water was poured over the sack covering your nose and mouth.

The shock of the unexpected sensation sent a jolt through your entire body, making you gasp for air. You felt like you were drowning. 

He kept pouring water until you were soaking wet, yet still unable to breathe properly.

Your lungs burned with the struggle for air, and you felt your limbs tremble with exhaustion. In the midst of this torment, Officer Pash's words seeped into your consciousness like poison: "Don't worry. We'll figure out the truth together."

As you writhed helplessly in your bonds, a new wave of fear washed over you: not just for your safety but also for the secrets you carried within.

"Please," you gasped against the water bag, "please, stop!" 

"I am...pregnant...please," you begged, your voice hoarse from fear and fatigue.  

Officer Pash hesitated for a moment, seemingly struck by the revelation. "Interesting," he said, raising an eyebrow. 

The room fell into a heavy silence as Officer Pash considered his next move. Finally, he removed the water bag from your head, the sudden release of pressure causing you to gasp for air.

"But irrelevant to me," he then said before pulling your head up again.

"Now, think about your child. You don't want to lose your child, do you?" Officer Pash challenged, his eyes boring into yours after he removed the wet bag from your head. 

"What would you do if I told you that your child's future depended on your cooperation?" he then asked and you felt your stomach twist with fear, your heart pounding in your chest. "Anything," you replied, your voice cracking with emotion.

Officer Pash smiled, a cruel, taunting smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Good," he murmured, stepping closer to you.

"Then take some time to reflect and, tomorrow, we will continue this little conversation. If you talk and give me some names, then I will ensure that you receive sufficient food and water, ensuring the survival of you both," 

Officer Pash suggested calmly, a coldness behind his eyes. 

You swallowed hard, nodding your agreement while thinking furiously. This man had already threatened you physically and emotionally, and now your unborn child's life was at stake. "Alright," you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He left you alone in the room, the darkness wrapping around you like a shroud. Your eyes adjusted to the faint light filtering through the windows, casting eerie shadows across the barren walls.

Tag List Insert

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