#place and it's sooooo had to wrangle them into one place!!!!!!!!!

[trashlie]

ILY FP 210, 211, 212

WOOOOOOOF I’ve been holding off on writing this post, because I wanted to wait for this whole “episode” to fully come out. Quimchee revealed they were all meant to happen in one episode, but SO MUCH was happening in the episode that it was too long to do as the one. I... kind of wish I hadn’t waited because now there is SO MUCH for me to cover, so I’m going to do my best to keep this organized and coherent.

No lie, these go up there in my top episodes, especially 212. I have a feeling I might have some different feelings than others on this one...? We’ll see, I’m keen to hear how all of you are thinking and feeling about it. To me, these episodes really encapsulate a good 80% of the plot that we’ve been dealing with, and there’s some good reveals in here that have been a LONG time coming. I think everything is set up now for the time skip to come, and especially after all the events that transpired this arc (remember how this all started out so many moons ago with Nol going to the company Christmas party? That feels like it was years ago to what is happening now!) I am BEYOND excited to see what the time skips have in store for us! 

Anyway, before I start spoiling things, let’s get into it!

Well and truly, I love this arc! It’s really capture so much of the story this bigger story has centered on - the relationship between Nol and Kousuke. This isn’t the root of the story, of course, but it’s a significant portion of what we’ve come to read for, I think, and I cannot tell you how much I love seeing the characters verbally acknowledge things they’ve swept under a rug. 

212 felt especially raw to me - Kousuke’s confessions are tragic in the way of too little too late, and the realization that Nol was never against him, that he was always on the same side, that they could have been an incredible team may come to haunt him. That acknowledgement of his that nobody really liked him - no one else but the one person he had demeaned and devalued until he was truly nobody - really hit me like a sucker punch. I truly thought these were truths Kousuke wouldn’t be able to reach until he lost more, like his job or his sense of self, but I guess we can argue that he’s lost a lot of his sense of self; from the moment he punched Nol, it’s clear that he’s dissociating. That also serves to tell us how important this moment is for Kousuke, what it means to him, what Nol means to him.

Now, I’ll be upright honest with you guys, because I think this is where the difference of opinions will come in. I really enjoy stories with this kind of element of hatred and care so intricately interlaced in family or friends. There’s something about this sense of care being overwritten by jealousy so scathing it mutates into resentment and hatred and loathing. The way these two feelings battle out, the way ugly emotions are so strong they come to eclipse any hope for warmth. Idk it’s intriguing to me, it creates a compelling story. 

And in Kousuke’s case, it is! A running theory has been that Kousuke treats Shinae the way he does because he is, subconsciously, treating her how he wishes he’d treated Nol. As the story went on and Kousuke’s ugliness started to come out more and more and his paranoia began to consume him, I think it was probably difficult for many to find credence in this theory - that there was no way Kousuke could have cared about Nol and transferred it to Shinae when he treated Nol how he did but I’m still here for the theory. It’s just that Kousuke’s ugliness was so strong, overwhelming, it eclipsed anything else. 

Now I’m not saying I think Kousuke loves Nol or thinks of him as a brother, but rather I think deep down, he understood they were connected. As a child, Nol was the only person who didn’t treat Kousuke like an object - like a puppet or rich vending machine or influence to be gained. But how could Kousuke allow himself to think so favorably of Nol when he was so deeply rooted in jealousy? 

This is what I find especially intriguing about their dynamic. Something I talk about a lot is that Nol and Kousuke are both the products of abuse - Kousuke is the way he is due to neglect and manipulation, and in turn he took that out on Nol. I’ve seen people say Kousuke doesn’t make sense to them, but he DOES and this episode really drove that home and confirmed a lot of things I’d felt. 

Kousuke’s treatment of Nol all stems from Rand and his affair. Let’s look at it from Kousuke’s perspective. He has a father who is never around, and when he is he’s busy and always puts his career first. He rarely joins them for family time, there’s a rift between him and his wife. All young Kousuke wants is for his father to spend time with him, to be around, to notice him. His mother tells him things - if he’s a good boy Father will pay attention; if he wants his father’s attention he needs to be just like him; if he wants Father to care to notice he must be exactly like him. But his mother also says other thing - that there’s someone else, money is being wired to someone. At school people murmur similar things. 

All he wants is his father’s approval, his father’s pride, his father’s attention, his father’s time. He must not be good enough, yet. He must not matter, yet. He’ll make sure he does, though. He’ll do exactly what his mother says, he’ll buckle down just like she tells him, he’ll make sure to become the perfect son that his father can be proud of. 

So you can understand, then, why the discovery that the murmurs are true, that there’s another family, would shatter him the way it did, why it remains a point of breaking for him even as an adult, why he never really reconciles his father’s affair. How is it that the man who has no time for him or their family, had enough time to create a second family? Why was he so undeserving of his time? Why was he so undeserving of his attention? 

And it rooted deep inside him, right in the core of his foundation. This other boy who describes his father as someone who couldn’t possibly be the same man as his father - a funny man, a kind man. That is not the father Kousuke knows, so why does this other child know him? (Never mind that this child has also never met that version of his father.) It all stems from that: a craving for something he’s never received. 

Kousuke’s whole speech about how there was only one kind, sweet, generous, funny person in his life was the very person he attacked and tore down hit me HARD. His admission of fear, that he ACTUALLY ADMITTED TO BEING SCARED, that he’ll never be good enough for Rand, that nothing he would ever do would make him worthy of his attention actually hurt. This is the kind of thing I’ve been wanting Kousuke to acknowledge and embrace, because it’s the one thing that has been fueling and propelling him. He doesn’t do this job because he’s passionate about it - he does it because he’s still vying for love and attention. He didn’t forsake his childhood because he was above it - he literally sacrificed it for his father. Regardless of what you think about Kousuke now, it has to be acknowledged that he, too, has suffered. And let’s not pretend that Yui truly believed that Kousuke could win Rand’s affection this way - it still feels like it was a game for her, a manipulation to turn him into someone she could use to get her way, a puppet if you will. It’s fucking sad to think that he gave up everything because he was so determined to earn his father’s love, that his love and attention was believed to be so conditional he had to make himself worthy of it. 

“I hate you for making me aware this person exists. And I hate your face being a constant reminder of it.” 

So many times, Kousuke has berated Nol for his playful, joking behavior, for seeming so lax and carefree. I’d always thought it was jealousy that he didn’t have that kind of life, that he wasn’t allowed it - and that probably is still a part of it - but now we know that when Yeonggi laughed and played around, he was a vision of a version of Rand Kousuke had never known, a spitting image of a man Kousuke didn’t even know could exist. 

And as Nol points out, it was all for naught. All of Kousuke’s jealousy and his fear, tearing down Nol so that he could instead get to know that version of Rand. All of it was for naught, because who knows if that man even exists? It seems like only one person ever knew her, and who’s to know if she didn’t make him up. Kousuke has spent his entire life - sacrificed his childhood, accelerated himself through school, forsook any fun or leisure - on a quest for a man who probably doesn’t exist, for something he’ll never achieve. He spent his whole life tearing down someone innocent trying to get to something he’ll never have. 

I really thought it would take for Kousuke to lose it all, to stumble in his career before he’d realize it, but here he is. 

But on the other side of that, we have Nol. Nol, who also lost - and lost more than Kousuke did. Nol who was isolated and alienated, Nol who tried time and time again to reach out and create a connection, and was refused every time. Nol who suffered under Kousuke and Yui’s watch over and over. Nol, who despite it all, still tried to treat Kousuke well, still tried to give him a chance, still tried to reach out to him at his most desperate. 

I think that really illustrates something important: an understanding that there is a reason for Kousuke’s behavior and his paranoia, where it comes from, but that reason doesn’t justify. I can acknowledge both that Kousuke absolutely is the product of his environment and that he has been an asshole about it lol. Idk I can admit that my intrigue in his has grown a LOT. 

These episodes have just tapped into something so deep that I love about this series - that our experiences heavily color our interpersonal relationships, as well as our relationships with our own selves. Nol notes that he, too, suffered, he, too, lost, he has been alone and alienated and despite it all he still tried, and he still attempted to be a good person, in contrast to Kousuke who let his suffering turn him into an asshole. It was kind of a hard-to-read moment, because Nol spoke the truth, and as much as I feel for Kousuke, Nol is right. Because he never attempted to deal with those ugly feelings, because he never chose to face them, because he instead wore them as armor, it became his identity, he became an asshole through those experiences. Had there ever been a moment that he could have met Nol in the middle, that he could have put aside his jealousy, that he could have turned off his Rand blinders, he could have seen what Nol was able to see earlier and more clearly. And isn’t that sad? They could have been a great team, they could have had each others’ back in a world where no one else did, they could have been there for each other, but Kousuke couldn’t cross that line. 

Again, I fully acknowledge that Kousuke is the way he is because of those experiences. I acknowledge that this is the wake up call he needed, that he was forced to finally reckon with the truth. 

But I also worry what will come of Kousuke as a result of Rand’s arrival. Is he going to backpedal? Is this going to short-circuit something and push him to double down, or is it going to free him? 

Kousuke has spent his entire life trying to earn Rand’s favor, to earn his attention. Everything he has done has been an angle to get closer to his father. Like, when you break it all down, that’s the sad, basic truth. He was a child who so desperately wanted his father’s attention that his life became about that. And here comes Rand, showing up when it looks like Kousuke is running away. Rand who never had time for him, Rand who didn’t shower him with warmth and affection. 

Rand who showed up and wailed “My son” in response to Nol. 

That whole scene honestly hurts me. Nol is hurt, Rand is anguished and horrified, and Kousuke? Kousuke finally witnessing his father show a fatherly side - and it wasn’t for him. And not only that but Rand might not even believe that Kousuke was trying to get help, that he attempted to get Nol up but couldn’t. And does it even matter when the truth is that Kousuke DID cause this? I can’t imagine it was his intention - I don’t think his mind went “punch Nol and he’ll fall over the railing” as much as Nol tried to leave and Kousuke reacted on that. But the point still stands: even if it wasn’t his intention, this is still ultimately his fault. Nol goaded him on and played a part, but Kousuke was the hand that acted. 

I fear that this will ruin what little relationship Kousuke has with Rand - and it’s a fear because it means Kousuke could swing in two wholly opposite directions. Does he double-down and return to the side of his mother, the only family member who has made him feel like someone’s child? I don’t think he’s at the point where he can extricate himself from the family, as good as it would be. And I worry that if that’s the case, will he double back down on his treatment and resentment of Nol? For this one moment, he saw that they were equals, that they both had a broken, shitty relationship with Rand. And then Rand showed up, showing that paternal side Kousuke has longed for. 

As much as I WANT Kousuke to hold on to that moment, I don’t know that he can. I think the cracks have formed and I think his fragile reality is crumbling faster, but I fear he’ll retreat back into the “comfort” of the world he knows. 

Here’s the thing about Kousuke: on some level he knows. He knows that Yui isn’t great, he knows that she has done awful things, he knows that Nol did no wrong, he knows that Rand will probably never change. But these are such uncomfortable truths and he has spent his life propped up by a false reality. This was pointed out by AugmentedElle on reddit, but look at the difference in Kousuke’s flashbacks. Look at the memory in 210 vs 212. The flashback in 210 is the strongest, most vibrant memory we’ve yet seen. Ordinarily they’re in some kind of grey scale, or at least muted colors, sometimes with spot color like in Shinae’s. In Nol and Kousuke’s flashbacks thus far, we’ve seen those muted colors or alterations - Nessa’s face appearing scribbled out in Kousuke’s memories, just as in 212. The use of color suggests that the memory in 210 is, quite possibly, fabricated. It starts out with Kousuke dazed, unable to remember what just happened, and Yui comes in and tells him he won’t have to see that boy for a long time. It feels like something happened - that perhaps Kousuke did something (the huffing that parallels his huffing after he punches Nol in the current story) and blocked it out or whited out and Yui came in and gave him an iteration of the story. It’s the strongest memory because it didn’t come from him - because it was filled in and colored in by someone else. The whole time we’ve thought Nol had perhaps been pushed to the bring, that Kousuke instigated a fight and Nol snapped, but maybe it was never Nol. Maybe the whole time Kousuke has associated Nol with danger and violence - because he was wired to think that way. That whatever happened and lead to that moment was so traumatic he doesn’t have the real memory, and instead carries a fabrication. 

And that is essentially the basis of Kousuke’s entire life. Regardless of intent, Yui does manipulate Kousuke. She says things knowing full-well the effect they’ll have. Consider that moment with Nol and Nessa vs Yui in Kousuke’s flashback in 212. He watches Nessa blow raspberries on Nol’s cheek, a warm and silly exchange full of so much love and care - and then he looks up at Yui, who wears her maternal mask, shadows falling eerie over her face. Doesn’t it feel so much like she set this up? Doesn’t it feel like she knew Nessa and Nol would be around? She fills his head with things like “the only way to get your father’s attention is to be just like him” and “we’re not like other families we’re so special” and “isn’t it just so wonderful that rand at least has enough time to eat with us”? That’s not vouching for Rand - that’s passive aggression towards Rand and creating an idea of who Rand is - that Rand unwittingly lives up to. Despite speaking of the affair in front Kousuke, she turns and tells him that “Your father values us too much, he would never do such a thing” - a blatant lie that only plays into that feeling Kousuke wears that he’s been cheated, that there exists a version of his father that has been denied to him. Nessa tells Nol that Rand was a kind, sweet, generous, funny man. Yui tells Kousuke that Rand is anything but funny and he has no time for jokes. Maybe both are true, but Nol’s unintentionally makes a point about how Yui speaks of Kousuke’s father, vs how Yui spoke of Nol’s father. Why would a parent speak ill of the other parent -- if not to make the child see them that way. 

(She also tells him there’s nothing she hates more than people who don’t take things seriously, and well, look at how Kousuke came out.) 

There’s a fragile cognitive dissonance between what Kousuke knows to be true - that is, the reality that has been shaped by his experiences and Yui’s manipulation - vs actual reality, and we’ve seen this a number of times when various events threaten that tentative balance. Kousuke at the club, angry and paranoid, is aware of what people really think of him. Deep down he knows people don’t see him as great, as an honorable gentleman. Deep down he knows he’s a selfish, judgmental asshole, but it doesn’t fit the fabricated reality he believes in, so it only comes out in his paranoia. He knows that Nol is like him, that he didn’t have the love Kousuke coveted, that he tried to get by quietly, but Kousuke’s fear and paranoia still thought of him as the boy who had earned the love that Kousuke couldn’t, and that made him a threat. He knows what kind of person Yui is and has tried to draw boundaries, but he’s still told her things about Nol that she could act on, because he knows what she is capable of. When people or events fracture that reality, he struggles and lashes out, because he needs that reality to keep it together, but it’s crumbling fast. 

Between the phone call with Rand and the moment that Rand shows up on the scene - what is the state of Kousuke’s reality? Is it crumbling? Is he trying to stuff the crumbling rocks back into the foundation? Will he retreat to his mother, the only one who can keep the tint of his rose colored glasses or will he be forced to face reality for what it really is? I wish it would be the latter, but I just don’t know if he’s ready for it yet. I don’t know if he can face that which he’s run from this whole time just yet. 

As for Nol, woooooooof. What a fucking NIGHT. To think - THIS IS HIS GODDAMN BIRTHDAY. On the one hand, I think, maybe this can give him some kind of peace. He’s finally gotten a piece of Kousuke’s mind, he finally knows how Kousuke sees him, what he thinks of him, and what motivated him all these years. Maybe with this knowledge, Nol will be able to walk away in peace. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore. He knows where he stands - and where he’s always stood - and I think he’s made it clear that he’s drawn his line. He is done, he is finished, with all of them. If Kousuke can find his way to the other side of the line, then good for him, but Nol has no intention of trying to bring him over anymore. 

I do think there’s a lot of room for them to reconcile in the future - when Nol’s raw anger has maybe ebbed, when Kousuke has found himself and learned to stand on his own ground, rather than prop himself up by his fabricated reality. But they are far from there. I’ve said before that I had a feeling maybe we’ll see the three main characters reunite in the time skip as adults after having gone separate ways, and that feeling still lingers. Nol has made it clear that he still wants to get away - and frankly I think he needs to. I wish he’d say so much to his friends, I wish he’d tell them where they stand. I feel so bad for Shinae, who went through so much grief and angst and really put herself out there to bring him back, to get her closure - and then when she had it and was ready to let him go, he insisted on staying. For him to turn around and leave like that again, after everything she told him, after the ways she opened up to herself, god that must hurt a lot. I guess on the one hand, she got the closure she wanted but.... it wasn’t even that long ago that Nol was making jabs at Kousuke for abandoning his friends, and there he goes doing it a SECOND time. 

There’s a piece I’d love to give more time and thought to - that maybe all along, on a deep, subconscious level, Kousuke feared Nol leaving and that’s why he’s always acted when Nol was on the leave. If Nol leaves he’ll be truly alone. If Nol goes, there is truly no one left who ever liked him, who ever saw any value in him. This post is already long enough, so I’ll try to spit that out later this week, if I can. I think it’s not a coincidence that Kousuke punched Nol as he was leaving, that he didn’t bring himself to do it when Nol promised he’d leave, just as he let Yui know Nol was planning to leave. Maybe he doesn’t recognize it yet, but I think Kousuke is terrified of being left alone and Nol escaping without him. 

Like I said, more on that later, but it’s an important point that I think ties in really well with this relationship Kousuke has towards Nol. It’s complicated, fucked up, toxic, and messy, and it needs a LOT of untangling by professional help. But I do think these last episodes really set something up for Nol and Kousuke’s future - as much as there is so much resentment and anger between them, there’s a mutual sense of longing, of needing each other to fill a void: for Nol, he sought out a brother in Kousuke, a companion against the adults in their lives; for Kousuke, that knowledge that Nol, too, had suffered that neglect, and was the only person who had ever truly liked him. I think one day when that anger has died, when they’ve made peace and hopefully worked on themselves, when Kousuke has freed himself, I think there’s a chance they will be able to reconcile. Like I said, maybe they’ll never be family to each other; there’s so much damage there, it’s really possible that can never be undone. But I think at some point, at least, they will see themselves on the same side, rather than each other. 

[escapistpainter]

So since batman has flooded my Tumblr, I'm making fics based off of scenarios I've seen. Thanks to @everwalldigan for the idea, I hope I do you justice���🏻

The air of the warehouse was thick and muggy in the late summer evening. The sound of muffled conversations, grunts, and the sound of rope rubbing against metal filled the area. "You really got connections, huh boss?" A gruff voice boomed through the empty building, belonging to a large man with a cocky grin plastered on his lips, a syringe in hand. The man a bit further away responds, albeit, quite unintelligibly. Squatting down in front of the man they had tied to a pole who's looking at them with with a deadpanned, almost annoyed expression. "Y'know, since we got you here, why don't we have some fun, eh bats?" A snarky chuckle rang through the room before he takes the syringe and stabs it into Batman's arm. The man let's out a groan through gritted teeth while it sinks deeper into his flesh before the man before him injects the unknown substance into his body.

"Let's start it simple...are you and red hood connected?" It was a random question for sure, though it would clear some things up. Before he can stop himself, Batman speaks. "Yes." Shit, truth serum, of course it is. He shouldn't be surprised at this, so many others have done this before. It's just a nuisance. The tall man's smirk only grows. "This is gonna be fun. I could get you to reveal yourself, but what fun is that?" He flashes a cocky smirk, "Well, since you have SOOOOO many of these 'sidekicks', who's your favorite bat-vigilante?" The man was just acting childish now and Batman couldn't help but roll his eyes but he still couldn't control his words. "I don't have a favorite. At least not currently."

The man readjusts his position, staring at the hero bound in front of him with a raised brow. "And what does that mean?" "Well, it depends on the circumstances. So if red hood doesn't kill someone this week, he gets placed higher on the list, he steals the batmobile and crashes it, least favorite until he makes up for it. Usually Orphan is in the lead, she doesn't talk back, she finished her duties in a timely manner and sometimes makes me origami cranes that I arrange on a shelf to display." The man looks at him, confused and surprised at his response. "That's a lot more indepth than I thou-" His sentence is cut short by Batman beginning to speak again. "Nightwing gets off pretty easy with just coming over to visit every now and then to have dinner, but those points get lost when he has a sling." The man found it hard to look away or cut him off as he was explaining, only motioning for the others to come closer, as if wanting to show them something.

"Red Robin gets the silent treatment if hacks into the county servers and decides to Rick roll everyone and only starts being spoken to if he helps me wrangle Robin and stop him from strangling Super boy. That gets Robin to need to go on longer patrols and doesn't get to go on missions with me as a punishment but I take that back if he prepares dinner, which he almost never does. I can't do anything to control spoiler, she just does what she does and I can only hope it's not a war crime, the less awful it is, the less she gets punished, though if she decides to spray pepper spray all over the inside of my mask one more time, I'm taking her girlfriend privileges away." *No one knows when but he's now holding a white board to display the charts of his favorites and everyone just assumes he has it just in case? It's Batman, who knows.

A voice blares over his comm system and into his ear. "B, we've tracked your location, we're almost there, do you copy?" Several minutes of silence went by as he shouts again, "B, do you copy?!" And a groan ring out before his comms beeped off. "The signal," Batman continued, "is similar to orphan in the sense, he doesn't get into trouble so he's always very high, but it hurts when he ignores me so I put him just a tad lower for hurting my feelings. And Oracle, well, she's not good, but she's not bad, she kinda just... Exists outside of missions, sometimes she sends me cat videos and I like that so she gets a few points ahead. And if all of my kids suck, then super boy gets the title of favorite, he's so much better than what I have to put up with. But if he runs away and has Superman start riding my ass more than normal, straight to the bottom and either bathound or batcow take that title."

Once he finishes speaking, the room is filled with eery silence while the criminals look at each other like he just gave birth. No one had expected that to be the outcome of the simple question but they're all brought out of their contemplations when a loud crash echoes through the warehouse, causing the men to spring to their feet. "What was that!?" One of the men shouts as the other see a dark figure appear behind him. "Me bitch." As soon as the man turns around, hard knuckles crash against his face and he falls to the ground. It didn't take long for the others to start getting picked off as well until the last guy is collapsed on the floor unconscious.

"You could've taken them down yourself B." Jason remarks, hauling the men into a pile. "They asked a question." Bruce exhales, feeling slightly disappointed in himself for just staying there. "And you know I don't like when you swear, further down you go." "What?! Not fair!"

[rambunctioustoons]

The celestial bot thrumming so intently, convinced anymore strain he'd pop a metal joint. Eyes fixated down to the shaking movements of his palms.

Today had been a terrible day, but nothing out of the ordinary. Fussy kids eating up the time needed for the other kids. Sun stretched out further than his fingertips could reach and wrangle the troublemakers out of harm's way in time. All it takes is one booming shrill of a voice advocating for chaos for all hell to break loose.

Every attempt to heed the storm and aid him met with a snappy strained pleasantry. He's got this, he's made for this! You've only got one fleshy squishy body, don't push it now. Some kid puts a little too much strain on his wrist joint, that's just show biz! And these crazy kids demand an encore!

Every attempt so far in the early evening air to talk to him met with a question about your well being. A comment about that funny thing you were both there to witness but not actually all that funny! How many minutes he had left before Moon would take the reins, and did you really really wanna spend the next half hour talking about how he feels? Silly, feeble, kind friend. He's just fine.

But he's not. Sure if there had been a way to see Moon flickering in those bright vacant eyes, you'd be giving each other the look.

No more chores left to do, none that he'd let you do anyway. Too high strung. Things snatched from your hands as he forcibly twists fate on the limits of his abilities. Trembling himself apart.

Little you could do to evade the inevitable parts & service visit if he kept pushing like this, so you've hatched a plan.

“Laundry-”

“Done and done! Done twice!”

“Folded sheets-”

“Pristine and crisply folded. Would you really need to check that?”

“Books-”

“All put away and alphabetical like they should be!”

You grin. “... Fairy lights?”

“Put away insideee theee closeet-....” Words dragged out in a dwindling song-songy tune, his faceplate whipping around to face you. “-why are you asking that? They're out of season, Friend.”

“I'll put ‘em to good use then!” You chirp, hands placed on your hips. “Closet?”

Sun squints skeptically. “Yes. Closet.” Eyes fixated on you, suspiciously. You ignore this, of course. Waltzing your way over to the Daycare storage closet. Gathering up the supplies in your arms. Awkwardly leaning down in the naptime nook as you pass by, nabbing a book at random. Using your foot to toss a few throw pillows atop of the pile.

Sun squints at you. “Whateeeever it is you think you're doing, just know, it won't. Work!”

“I’m taking a reading break, don't care what you do. ” You chime. An offended gasp piping up behind you. You duck into one of the corners on the ground level of the play structure. Tying the flat sheet to the gridded bars inside the small space. Weaving the corded battery powered lights inside, flicking them on. Flickering flimsy bulbs of light, shimmering a yellow hue on the play structure bars still visible. It wasn't perfect, but. Cozy enough to hopefully lure a creature right into the trap.

All you had to do was wait. Plopping yourself down in the makeshift blanket fort. Carefully cracking open the book, nesting the hardcover against your thighs. Not actually reading the words of course. Too focused on the shuffling outside the play place, jiggly footsteps alluding playing a game of who cracks first, and you intend to win.

Every fiber of your being trying not to beam with a grin, when Sun eventually ducks his head into the space, craned down to observe the hurried fruits of labour.

“There's still a lot to do, y’know.” He says. Tone wobbly, uncertain.

“I know,” You say, turning the page. “And there's even more to do tomorrow.”

“Sooooo,” He drags on, one hand gripping the caged siding. “We should keep going.”

“Sure.” You hum. “Five minutes.”

A disgruntled sound reverberates from your friend. Shoot. He's on to you. All or nothing now. You cheekily pat the remaining space on your legs. Worth a try, but not at all expecting him to take you up on it. A gesture of sincerity of course, glancing up at him. Pulling you into his lap aplenty times in moments of distress, or sorrow. Or to impishly move you aside because whatever you had been doing, was taking much too long.

Difficult as always to follow his eye line. Making a guess his gaze is fixated on your torso. Hands folding to his chest, restlessly squeezing his intertwined palms. Faceplate trained slightly down, you recognize this. A conversation you're not part of, and very little business pondering on. Turning back to the book, rolling your shoulders.

Sun, careful and hesitantly steps into the space with you. Kneeling down in front of you, paying him little mind. He's exhausted sure, but one wrong jeering word from your mouth and he'll scamper right back out away from you. Quiet whirring and rhythmic tapping atop of one bell. Words a blurry haze along the page to read at all, terribly distracted by the striped pants lingering above the peripheral. Sure if he made any sudden movements, you'd equally skitter out of the play structure too.

Sun reaches hesitantly for the book. Index and thumb pinching the pages on either side of the hardcover book. You let him, smiling up at him gently. He never really indulged in much book reading, much more of a collaborative storyteller. Eagerly adopting any silly, outlandish detail a guest would pipe up with during play time.

Pulled from your musing as he closes the book, setting it aside.

Careful movements as he closes the space between the two of you. Contorting himself down with much less graceful ease than you'd ever seen, and flops right in your lap. Faceplate pressed flat against your tummy, gangly arms quick to encircle your torso. Slumping his weight down as he lets out a shaky faux breath. Full heartedly admitting defeat, solidified as he speaks up.

“Today was bad.” Words lightly muffled, for effect of course. His speaker box didn't reside in the mouth rested against you.

“It was.” You affirm gently. Resting your arms along the backs of his shoulders, met with a small twitch underneath you. His arms squeezing you tighter after a good few moments.

“How much longer?” He inquires hesitantly, tilting his head up to see you.

“Lost count.” You tease softly.

His rays twirl once, in place of an eye roll. Plopping his face to rest back against you once more.

“Five more minutes then.”

“Five more it is.”

[ladylooch]

If we doin soft Sunday,

Can we get lucie and Connor back together 🥹

Omg… I never did have them get back together last week. This is an angsty world we have been living in with Lu and Con. I’m so sorry! Let me fix it 🥰

Lucie is shaking as she pulls up her NYU portal to check the grade of her final she was sure she had failed when she walked out of the lecture hall on Wednesday. She exhales hard, thinking about Lio’s words and trying to tell herself it will be okay no matter what. She can retake the class next semester. She clicks into the final grade link, biting her lip hard between her top and bottom row of teeth.

Pass- 89%

OH MY GOD! She thrusts her hands in the air, fist pumping in her empty apartment. She runs around excitedly, leaping over her coffee table to dance on the couch.

“Oh my god, I have to tell Con!!!!” She squeals, rushing to her phone. 

The phone in her hand becomes a wake up call. She can’t call Connor. That’s incredibly unfair to him when she broke up with him two weeks ago. She sets the phone back on her desk, then walks to the kitchen to grab a beer. She pops it open, taking a celebratory sip that feels more sad and pathetic than anything else. She looks at the 9:30am time, then goes to the sink to pour it down the drain.

Why does life feel so gray? 

“Connor.” Her inner monologue begins. “He made sure all these moments felt special.” 

After every big moment, Connor would take her out to one of her favorite restaurants. They would order an obscene amount of food and always dessert. He would hype her up to the waiter, telling them how amazing his girlfriend was.

“She’s so smart. Sooooo pretty too. She goes to NYU. Hey, do you guys have candles you can put on the ice cream? She deserves them."

Lucie smiles at the memory, walking back to her phone. She pulls up messages, sending him a quick text. She can’t stop herself. She wants him to know. Even if he says nothing back, she feels like he shares in this with her.

I passed.

She picks at her finger nails, turning her phone face down to avoid staring at it. His response comes in ten minutes later.

Of course you did. Proud of you, Lu 😘

Those words soothe her heart. And break it all at once. Tears fill Lucie’s eyes as she sends a similar text to Lio. 

That’s great, Lu! Let’s celebrate with  🍣. Like 6?

Sushi with Lio is sure to cheer her up. She doesn’t have to ask where. She knows. There is only one place they ever get sushi. When she arrives there later that night, she scans the restaurant for Lio, but he isn’t there yet. The door opens behind her as she is about to speak to the hostess to ask for a spot for two.

It’s Connor. 

“Uh… Lio had something come up with the team. He is sorry and sent me instead.” Bullshit, but Lucie doesn’t mind the substitute.

Connor and Lucie order half the menu, like always. They settle into nice, polite conversation that has Lucie wanting to pull her hair out by the end. Connor barely touches her, even as she tries to accidentally bump hands and knees where they sit together at the sushi bar. Damn him and his respectfulness. She wants him to run his fingers along the small of her back and play with her thong line through her satin dress. 

As she finishes the last bite of Mochi from their dessert, Lucie feels dread fill her full stomach. Connor pays for the bill even as Lucie tries to wrangle the receipt away from him. 

“You’re a poor college student.”

“My parents are millionaires.” She shrugs, putting her card back into her wallet.

“You’re never going to pay for a meal if I’m sharing the table with you.” She loves that about him. His chivalry. The way he holds the door open for her as they leave the restaurant. How he guides her to the left around a hole in the sidewalk. He steps off the curb, hailing a cab for her. He hands the driver a hundred, way more than the cost of the fair back to her place and the tip. His way of not letting her pay for that either. He turns back to her with the door of the cab open for her. 

“I’m glad Lio had a thing.” Lucie murmurs as she steps off the curb. Her high heels clack the concrete and Connor watches her approach with wanting eyes. “Thank you for tonight. You always make me feel special.”

“You are special, Lu. You deserve all of this.” Lucie closes her eyes in agony, then leans in to give Connor a hug. Her nose ghosts along his jaw as he leans his head down to lean into hers. The hug is more than friends. It’s two lovers who ache for each other through their hollowed out bones.

“Don’t let go yet.” She practically cries when she feels his hands moving. He was gripping her tighter and she doesn’t know how much he is still holding back.

“Luc, you look so beautiful tonight.” He says into her shoulder. “Wanna kiss you so bad.” Lucie pulls away and puts her lips on his. Connor’s hands wind along her lower back, gripping her dress at her hips and crushing her into his body. “Come back to me. Please.” He sighs anxiously as she pulls away. “I’ll fix it. I’ll make everything better. Move in with me and Lio and we will figure out everything else. Please. I will get on my knees and beg if I have to, Luc.”

“I feel so lost without you, Con. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want this anymore. I want you and me.”

“Thank you Jesus.” He moans, shuffling her towards the open cab door. “Hey man, change of plans.” He says then rattles off his and Lio’s address. “Gonna make you mine all over again tonight.” He whispers in her ear, nibbling her ear lobe as his fingers wander up her inner thigh. 

[spookiekewchie]

Prove a Point

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: What happens when Ransom's words aren't taken seriously? He makes sure to prove his point to you, and the poor idiot that you had the nerve to go on a date with.

Read THE INTERN

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: Ransom is bit dark and possessive in this one, kidnapping, potentially dubcon, forced cuckolding, oral (m receiving), drooling, fingering (blink and you miss it), Ransom's filthy mouth, unprotected sex (p in v), use of a knife, threats (not against reader), nicknames (sweetheart, ransom get's called daddy once), sir kink

A/N:  It's DAY FIVE OF KINKTOBER and I really wanted to revisit these two, the idea I had in mind really lent itself to some cuckolding sooooo here we are. This could be considered dark so pay attention to the warnings, and know that you are responsible for your own media consumption. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You’d done what you promised yourself, you’d gone on your date that Ransom had made you miss. You’d had to take a sick day just to avoid the man, but in your mind it was worth it to not only inconvenience him but also do the exact opposite of what you knew he wanted from you. The only problem was that your date wasn’t going as great as you thought it should have been. For one Bryce looked a little too similar to Ransom for you to truly appreciate his good looks, and then there was the background. A rich grandfather, and a ridiculous inheritance that he was set to get when the old man died. God you could have rolled your eyes at how you just had to end up with the one man that not only resembled Ransom but also came from money and had a silver spoon shoved up his ass.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more insufferable a shadow fell over your table. You looked up, and there stood Linda Drysdale with a smirk on her face and looking like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh dear, I stopped by the office today and Ransom told me you’d called out sick. Maybe he was mistaken, because you certainly don’t look sick.” She looked over to Bryce then, a look of recognition on her features and a somewhat sour expression flitting over them. “Bryce.” It was a clipped greeting, and he didn’t seem too pleased to see her either. Whatever beef there was between them though you were determined to stay out of it, so when Linda finally turned on her heel to leave you didn’t question it. You did mentally kick yourself when you saw her fishing her phone out of her purse on her way out the door though.

She was probably going to call Ransom and tattle on you in hopes that he’d fire you. The woman never did like you, something about how much Harlan liked you, and enjoyed your company had her feeling threatened. The woman acted like you were trying to steal her father, you rolled your eyes at the thought and forced yourself to at least try to enjoy the rest of your date with Bryce.

Bryce who looked like a slightly younger, slimmer, and less experienced version of Ransom.

It was going to be a long night, and suddenly you were ready for it to be over.

Two hours later you were standing awkwardly at your car, attempting to bid Bryce a good night when you caught sight of a panel van pulling up, the door sliding open, and two men in all black rushing the pair of you. You didn’t have time to react before someone was hitting Bryce over the head to knock him out before grabbing you up so that they could throw both of you into the back of the van. You put up a fight until they wrangle you and tie your wrists and ankles, then came the blindfold and you had no choice but to sit still and hope that you’d be okay. Selfishly you didn’t care much what happened to Bryce, for all you knew he was the target and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It felt like an hour went by before the van came to stop, and you could hear Bryce groaning softly as he began to stir. You were carried inside of a building, walked up some steps, and sat on something soft, it almost felt like a bed and that gave you another reason to worry, you could hear Bryce nearby and had to assume that he was left in the room with you. Time ticked by slowly, and you tried to keep up with the minutes but fear was gripping you too tightly to focus. “What the fuck is going on?” You questioned to no one in particular.

“I don’t fucking know.” That was Bryce speaking and your head turned in the direction his voice was strongest in. “Hey are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” He questioned, and it sounded like he was struggling with something.

“Of course they didn’t fucking hurt her, you were the only one they were allowed to rough up.” It sounded like someone new had entered the room. Bryce cursed under his breath, suddenly spitting insults as if he knew who was holding the two of you captive. It took you a second, but you realized that you knew this man’s voice and you scoffed, suddenly very confused and very annoyed.

“Ransom?” It couldn’t be, why the hell would he have you and Bryce snatched off the street like that, and why would he...oh wait. “Ransom you untie me right now!” You demanded, and you could hear the huff of his laughter and the shuffle of his steps as he neared you. Something cold and metal slid between your bound wrists and the sound of rope being cut filled your ears before you were able to move your hands. The first thing you did was rip the blindfold away, and then next was to untie your ankles in a rush. “What the fuck is going-” You shut up when he whirled around, a knife in hand and a glare on his pretty face.

“I thought I made it clear that you were mine, and that you weren’t going on any dates with this idiot.”

Your mouth went dry, was he serious? You’d honestly thought he was just talking shit that night in his office, but clearly you had misjudged just how serious Ransom had been. “Excuse me?” You snapped, flinching back when you heard the bitter laughter that rushed out of Ransom. “Ransom you can’t be serious, this is ridiculous. Just...just let us go, and we can all pretend that you didn’t have us kidnapped just so you could go on an ego trip and prove a point.” Even in the face of danger you couldn’t resist snapping at Ransom, and for the briefest of moments you saw amusement flashing in those brilliant blue eyes of his before they darkened.

“You really want to test me right now? I told you that you were mine, and I fucking meant it. You think I won’t slit this prick’s throat right here to show you how serious I am?” Ransom moved to stand close enough to Bryce’s bound form that all it would take was a slash of his wrist and Bryce would be no more. Eyes wide you jumped up from the bed, taking a tentative step towards an angry Ransom who was focused entirely on Bryce who looked a mixture of fearful and pissed off.

“Ransom…” Nothing. “Ransom, please.” Still nothing. You huffed, worry coursing through you that if you didn’t shift the brunets focus soon you’d have to be witness to a murder. Something you really didn’t feel like dealing with. Swallowing your pride you tried again, this time with a different name. “Hugh.”

That got his attention, Ransom’s head whipping towards you with a curious interest shining in his eyes. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be testing you right now.” He narrowed his eyes as you spoke, letting you step in close enough that he could smell the scent of your perfume clinging to your skin. “And I shouldn’t have gone on that date with him.” You conceded, watching as Ransom took a step away from Bryce and put himself more in your space.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was a waste of time, I realized that fifteen minutes in. All night long I was just sitting there comparing him to you, and thinking how I should have left the second I laid eyes on him. I was never going to fuck him, I already knew he’d just disappoint me.” You admitted, ignoring your own frustration at the fact that it was true and not something you had ever intended on telling Ransom. But it seemed to work, because Bryce was getting offended and the more upset Bryce got at your words the more Ransom preened knowing that in your eyes the younger trust fund prick just couldn’t compare.

“Put the knife down, and I’ll show you just how sorry I am for not listening to you.” Your fingers dropped to his hips, fingers slowly working to undo his pants while you leaned in to whisper against his lips. “And then you can show him why he can’t ever compare with you.” Predictably, Ransom let the knife fall to the ground so that he could grab you by the hips and yank you into his body. His lips claimed yours in a messy, possessive kiss that has Bryce angrily cursing at the two of you as he tried to free himself from the chair that Ransom had him bound to. It only got worse when your hand slipped down the front of Ransom’s undone pants to stroke him until he was hardening in your grip.

Ransom broke the kiss, chest heaving just slightly and his pupils blown wide with lust as he looked down at you with a wicked smirk curling onto his plush lips. “On your knees, sweetheart.” He ordered, tone soft and almost sweet in contrast to just how tightly and possessively he was holding onto you. You made to move but a strong hand caught your chin and forced your gaze back onto Ransom’s. “What do you say?”

It took you more strength than you knew you had to swallow your pride down even more and fix your mouth to say the words that you knew Ransom wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.” You bit out, dropping to your knees once he let go of your chin.

“Pay attention Bryce. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Ransom taunted, hissing out a breath a moment later when he felt your tongue dragging along the underside of his length. The brunet towering over you let his gaze drink you in as he finally got to experience what wonder’s your mouth could do other than cursing him out, and telling him every little thing he did to irritate you. Ransom found that he much preferred your mouth full of his cock, the feeling of you sucking shallowly at his tip already making him want to rock his hips forward to make you take more of him. He held off for now, letting you use a hand to stroke his cock while you reared back just enough to spit on it. The mixture of your saliva and his precum was spread over him by your hand while you took him back into your mouth, big brown eyes peering up to meet Ransom’s pretty blues when you moaned around him. For the moment Bryce was an afterthought, but you remained vaguely aware of his presence because of the angered struggling and the spitting of insults.

You weren’t sure what was angering the trust fund baby more, your words, Ransom’s taunting, or the fact the pair of you were ignoring him while making him watch the lewd scene. Honestly he should be thanking you, obviously Ransom had been ready to slit his throat just to remove him from the equation all together. It was your quick thinking that spared him. Internally you rolled your eyes, men were always so ungrateful. Either way, if Bryce were going to sit there and spit venom at you, then you’d just have to let him get a good look at what he’d never get to experience for himself.

You took more Ransom into your mouth, Your hand slipping from his shaft to cup his sack so that your fingers could tease and massage him. The strained curse that came out of his mouth would have made you smirk if yours were so full. Letting it serve as motivation you let your head bob further down, tongue flattening against the underside of his cock to make more room for him in your mouth.

“Damn, sweetheart. You’re doing so good that poor Bryce over there’s getting hard.” Ransom’s eyes left yours to land on Bryce, the smirk on the older brunet’s lips was nothing short of cruel as Bryce demanded to be untied. Ransom let him stay right where he was, reaching down to tangle his fingers in your dark curls. He bucked his hips against your mouth, making you gag in protest when you felt him threatening to breach your throat. You attempted to pull back, but Ransom’s grip on your hair loosened so he could instead press a large hand against the back of your head. He fucked into your mouth then, making you gag and drool around his length as he used your mouth as he pleased. You wanted to hate it, the whole situation was fucked and you knew that, but you could feel the way your pussy ached to be filled by him again. The fact that you could feel Bryce’s heated glare on you the whole while only made your clit throb, and you desperately wanted to slip your fingers under your dress to do something about it. Your fingers drifted between your legs, but the moment Ransom saw that he dragged you off of his cock with a hard pull on your curls. “No you don’t, you don’t touch my sweet little cunt unless I say so.”

You wanted to protest, but before your mouth could fire off some scathing comment he had it full again. Growling around him only served to give him more pleasure, and you just found yourself more frustrated. Your hands moved to grip against the fabric of his pants, your knees dug into the soft carpet as you squirmed and tried to alleviate some of the needy ache that you felt, it didn’t help and it left you groaning in frustration around the man’s cock. An ache started to form in your jaw, and you whined, reaching up with a hand massage his sack again, this time with every intention of wanting to make him cum so you could give your jaw a rest.

Ransom didn’t let you end things so quickly though, pulling you back again so he could take a moment to admire the mess of smeared lip gloss and drool dripping from your mouth and onto the swell of your breasts. “Fuck, look at you. You’re a mess, sweetheart.” Something about the way he said it was sweet and you surprised yourself with the burst of laughter that erupted out of you when you shifted your hand from his balls to grip around his cock and stroke him. You were on autopilot now, your own lust winning out over your ego and pride. You needed that ache to be filled, and if you had to play Ransom’s game to get that then you would. Never mind the pissed off trust fund playboy currently hissing at you about how much of a slut you were.

“I want you to cum in my mouth, please.” You didn’t bother hiding the needy tone of your voice, smirking at the calming breath Ransom had to take at hearing you. Leaning forward you gave his tip a few kitten licks before wrapping your lips around him again, and then, ever so gently you let your teeth graze over him. Ransom clearly hadn’t been anticipating such a dirty little trick from you, and the sensation sent him over the edge with a drawn out moan as his spend filled your mouth while you sucked him for every drop of it.

“Shit...open your mouth, lemme see.” He ordered through panting breaths, gripping you by the jaw. You opened your mouth, letting him see his spend coating your tongue, and made no protests when he turned your head to give Bryce a nice look as well. “Swallow, sweetheart.” And you do, licking your lips a moment later with a shrug at Bryce’s look of disbelief. His anger had worn off, and now he was just stewing and trying to figure out why he hadn’t gotten this side of you. “Aww, look at him. He doesn’t know if he’s horny or angry.” Ransom was taunting him again, and Bryce’s glare was back in full force, but the obvious bulge straining against the front of his pants confirmed that Ransom was right. “Imagine how pissed he’s gonna be having to sit there and watch me fuck you.”

One second you were on your knees and the next, Ransom had hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed with little effort. He stripped you out of your clothes, tossing them this way and that before all but ripping your bra and panties in two so that he could get his hands on your bare body. Two thick digits pushed into you without warning, pumping into you and making you writhe against the expensive sheets of Ransom’s bed. You already knew that he could take you apart, but this time he could take his time and he made sure to drag out the moment and not let you cum right away. It was torture for you, but it was also torture for Bryce to watch because the longer Ransom dragged this out the longer Bryce was stuck there impossibly hard and unable to free himself.

It was exactly what Ransom wanted, and when he made you cum around on his fingers he just couldn’t help but leave the bed to stalk over to Bryce so he could smear your essence over the other male’s lips with a cruel smirk. “Enjoy it you pathetic cuck, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to my girl’s pussy.”

You probably shouldn’t have found the sight of Bryce’s tongue darting out to try and sneakily lick the taste of you from his lips, but between that and the sight of Ransom undressing at the end of the bed you were too worked up to care. Biting down on your bottom lip you took the time to openly let your gaze rake over Ransom’s naked form. Those damn sweaters really did him no justice, you thought to yourself. “Damn...I really need you inside me.” You breathed out, eyes glancing over to a silent and fuming Bryce. “C'mon, show him how well I take you.” You’d like to say you were still just playing Ransom’s game, but there was some twisted sense of pleasure in making Bryce sit there and watch what he couldn’t have.

Perhaps you and Ransom were better suited than you wanted to admit.

Ransom grinned at your words, grabbing you by the ankle to yank you closer to him so that he could crawl over you and slot himself between your spread thighs. A glance to your left let you know that Bryce would be able to see your face clearly, and you could only assume that was exactly what Ransom wanted. You were willing to bet money that, that was the reason why Ransom took his time pushing into you and drew out the moment. That first feeling of his cock stretching you around him had your back arching off the bed, and your mouth falling open with a drawn out moan as you tried to angle your hips to make him sink deeper into you. “Feels good doesn’t it,” you could only nod. “See Bryce, you never stood a fucking chance.” Ransom chuckled, hips snapping into you to draw a breathless cry out of you before he set a rhythm that easily turned you into a mess of moans and begging for more.

It didn’t take him long at all to have you feeling that coil tightening in the pit of your belly again. You nails dragged down his muscled arms, your half lidded gaze meeting his own lust blown stare. You knew he could tell you were close, the way you squeezed and fluttered around him told him everything and you thought for a moment he’d make you beg for it. Instead he slipped a hand between your sweaty slicked bodies to slide his fingers against your clit. That first touch had you seeing stars, hips bucking under him though you weren’t sure if it was an effort to get away or to get more. “God…’m so close, please Ransom.” His fingers sped up, the quick circles he drew over your throbbing bud working quickly to make that coil in your belly twist until it finally snapped and you felt the intense wave of pleasure overtaking you.

Ransom’s hips stuttered at the feeling of you clamping down around him, forcing him to rut into you harder as he dragged out the moment of your release until you weren’t sure if it was the same climax or if it had blended into the next. He smirked, watching you pant and writhe for him before he finally let his fingers fall away so he could fall forward until he was hovering close enough to press his damp forehead against yours. “Tell him who you belong to, sweetheart.” He muttered. You knew you’d told him earlier that you’d had no intention of fucking Bryce, but it was like Ransom still had a primal need to show the other man why. You could hardly complain when Ransom was fucking you that good, and giving your body exactly what it craved.

You whined, head turning to the side to let your teeth bite down against Ransom’s flexed bicep hard enough to make him snap his hips into your harder. “Fuck...you do, you daddy.” You were too cockdrunk to even realize what you’d just called him, but Ransom and Bryce both heard it.

“You hear that you fuckin’ cuck, she’s all mine.” Ransom had said, aiming a vicious smirk at Bryce as he began to rail into you hard. “Daddy huh?” He returned his attention to you, only to find you too fucked out to even really hear him. “Think I like the sound of that.” He grunted, spearing into you harder as his pace grew more frantic the closer he came to his own release.

Everything was a dull roar in your ears, body simply riding out the pleasure and bliss until Ransom reached his end and filled you with his spend. He stayed like that for a moment after, resting a fraction of his weight on top of you while his cock softened inside of you until slowly he pulled out of you. He chuckled at your whine of discontent at his cock leaving you, but then he moved you again, turning you so that Bryce could see Ransom’s cum dripping out of your used pussy. “Take a nice long look Bryce, last time you’re gonna get to see my girl’s perfect little pussy.”

You were too tired to tell Ransom to quit it, and everything after that was a blur. You vaguely remember seeing Bryce being untied and shoved out of the room by Ransom, then there was something damp and warm between your thighs wiping at your folds. You thought it was Ransom cleaning you up, but you were too tired to investigate. Soon enough you drifted off to sleep, leaving Ransom to finish doing whatever it was he was doing before he finally settled into the bed beside you.

The sound of birds chirping annoyingly outside woke you in the morning, and for a brief moment you panicked when you didn’t recognize your surroundings. Then the events of the prior night began to flood in and you could only groan and drag yourself from the bed. Searching for your purse you grabbed it up off the floor and padded into the bathroom to pull out the travel toothbrush you had packed just in case. You were midway through brushing your teeth when you noticed that your makeup had been removed, and your brow furrowed in confusion. Why the hell would Ransom bother with removing your makeup for you? You shrugged it off, telling yourself that he simply didn’t want to get makeup on his overpriced sheets. After that you grabbed a quick shower, and after you’d dried off you went rifling through the man’s closet for a sweater to throw on.

You plan had been to find the kitchen, but something glinting on the carpeted floor caught your attention. You bent down to pick it up, realizing it was the knife that Ransom had threatened Bryce with the night before. A frown fixed itself on your face when you let it settle in your hand. It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be, and something about it just felt off. Curious, you touched your finger to the tip a couple of times to confirm that you weren’t losing your mind. Once you were convinced you stood and made it a mission to find Ransom. If the smell of coffee and sounds coming from downstairs were anything to go by, that's where he’d be. Quietly you crept down the stairs, following the scent of coffee until you were standing at the edge of the kitchen and staring at Ransom’s bareback while he stood there pouring the dark bitter liquid into a mug. Clearing your throat you did your best to ignore the fact that he was shirtless with only a pair of low slung sweats covering him.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake the fuck up.” He greeted, making you roll your eyes as you silently moved closer to him with the knife still in hand and hidden in the too long sleeve of his sweater. You said nothing back, still frowning at him and to his credit he had the good sense to look confused for a moment. Your hand lifted, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the knife from last night, and without warning you jabbed it into Ransom’s side repeatedly. He jumped, yelping in surprise before catching your wrist and ripping the weapon away to toss onto the counter. “That tickled, don’t do that.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ransom! A fake knife?!” He didn’t look impressed with your yelling at him, in fact he just looked smug. “Was Bryce in any actual danger last night?” You hissed, jabbing him in the side with your finger until he batted your hand away and gave you a shrug.

“No, but you gotta admit it was funny watching him so angry and helpless.” Ransom answered, laughing when you threw your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“God! I can’t believe you! I did all that last night thinking I was keeping you from stabbing him and the whole time it was a fake knife. You’re an ass, Ransom. I fucking hate you.” You didn’t hate him, unfortunately. But you were pissed and he wasn’t making it any better by standing there looking completely unbothered and absolutely confident that what you were saying was bullshit.

“Funny, just last night you were saying you were mine, and calling me daddy.” He pointed out, and your eyes went wide before you quickly grabbed up the fake knife again and jabbed him with it. You let it clatter against the counter top again.

“Well I didn’t mean it, it was said under duress because you’re a fucking psychopath.” You spat, and almost immediately you could feel the shift in energy in the kitchen. Ransom’s bright blue eyes had darkened, and his body had gone tense as he crowded you back against the counter to cage you in with strong arms.

“Careful, sweetheart." His hand gripped you hard by the jaw and his gaze locked on yours. "Unless you want daddy to spend the rest of the morning taking you apart and reminding you that you are very much mine.”

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Two Lost Souls

A Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader fic

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: references to the war/violence (duh), references to ptsd, panic attack/nightmare, snafu being his crass self, so much awkward flirting, a teeny tiny bit of angst

A/N: okay story time -- one day a few months ago i rewatched the last episode of the pacific and then took a nap and proceeded to have a lovely dream about cuddling with eugene in a train booth and running my fingers through his hair sooooo here we are. i’m extremely nervous to post this as it was a labor of love and it’s almost my first full period piece. i hope you enjoy! also bonus points if you know what book the reader is reading.

moodboard by @brianmays-hair

--

The nightmares started while Eugene was still in Peleliu. Flashes of blood and corpses and metal and dirt. Screaming and explosions, the sound of bodies hitting the ground. But then he’d wake up to the same visuals, the same sounds. His reality was one long nightmare. There was no escape, no end in sight.

Now Eugene was afraid this was all a pleasant dream. No screaming, no blood. From the moment he set foot back on the mainland, he was in constant fear that he’d wake up and be back there. Especially when the nightmares felt so real. Sometimes he didn’t know what was his true reality.

It had taken a while to get the dirt out from under his fingernails, to get the stench out of his hair, but eventually he did feel clean again.

You can’t shower away the memories. Those linger much longer.

Distractions helped. He read, he smoked. He chatted with his fellow marines. He enjoyed the good food he was given, tried to find comfort in the bed he got to sleep in. He thought about Mobile and his parents and Sid and how he’d be home to them soon. He was hyper-focused on everything and anything, knowing that if he let his mind wander, it’d wander right back there.

It’s how he found himself people-watching at the bustling San Diego train station. The boys were prattling next to him about some girl Snafu had gone fishing for, but Eugene was more engrossed in the crowd around them. Sure there were tons of other marines around, but they were mixed in with parents wrangling their children, businessmen with their briefcases, lovers saying their goodbyes.

A flash of dark red caught Eugene’s eye. A woman, probably around Eugene’s age, stood alone on the platform, clad in a burgundy blazer and matching skirt with a brown trunk resting at her feet. Whereas most of the platform was hectic and frazzled, she stood firm and patient, a calmness about her. She seemed unperturbed by the world around her, lost in her own thoughts, her eyes cast downward as she let out a sigh.

She was beautiful.

Not in the way that the nurses back on the island greeted soldiers with their red-lipped smiles and white uniforms. Not in the way that the girls had primped for the Murphy High prom, practically fighting to dance with Sid while not paying Eugene any mind -- which seemed a lifetime ago now. No, this girl was beautiful in a way that Eugene couldn’t put his finger on. She was beautiful in a way that stopped him in his tracks like no girl ever had before.

The whistle of the train finally arriving at the station and a hand on his shoulder pulled Eugene out of his trance.

“Last leg, Sledge,” Burgie commented with a nod towards the train. Eugene replied with a half-smile before following the corporal, Snafu already ahead of them. Sneaking one last quick glance in the direction of where he last saw the beautiful woman, Eugene was greeted with a sea of people - no flash of burgundy in sight. With a sigh, adjusted the duffle on his shoulder and boarded the train, ready to get home.

--

You weren’t a big fan of long train rides. The rumbling of the cars, the confined spaces, the stale air, the bad food -- it was miserable. Last time you’d boarded a train, it had been under bittersweet circumstances - excitement mixed with worry. But three years had passed since you had arrived in San Diego, and after finding yourself jobless with no place to stay, your time in the port town had come to an end.

So you booked your ticket back home, with nothing but your childhood room and your disillusioned parents waiting for you. What a way to make an already miserable form of travel even more miserable.

You found your only solace was in reading. Luckily you had grabbed a newspaper from the stand at the station -- and snatched a book from your sister’s home before you left. You planned on losing yourself in words while the American countryside passed by your window. You had quite the trek ahead of you.

You sat at a table in the dining car, a bottle of barely-sipped cola accompanying the plate of lunch that had been hardly touched. You held the newspaper in one hand as you used your fork to idly push around your roasted potatoes.

“Is your meal alright, miss?” sounded the voice of a slender waiter above you. With a deep sigh, you lowered your paper and plastered a polite smile, meeting the young staff member’s stare.

“It’s just fine, thank you,” you replied, your voice cheery despite your true demeanor. The gentleman nodded before leaving you be, stepping to the next table. As you watched him leave, your eyes drifted across the aisle of the car. A lone marine sat at the table catty-corner to yours, a private first class by the looks of his uniform. His auburn hair was neatly coiffed and a striking nose divided his face. His eyes were downcast, staring out the window, an almost solemn look to him. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, he was handsome - in a genteel boyish way.

But he was no boy. Many of the servicemen you had encountered in the past few years maybe were boys before they left. But being sent overseas to be met with nothing but violence and death -- those boys grew up quickly. This marine was no different. You could see it in the distant look in his eyes. He had seen terrors and lived to tell the tale.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a drawling southern accent behind you.

“Hiya,” the voice greeted. You glanced over your shoulder to find another marine trailing behind a woman. The woman turned at the greeting. “I’m Merriel Shelton. How about I take you to the back and you can show me your caboose?”

You spun back forward, eyes wide and your hand shooting up to cover your mouth, hiding your smirk. And when a resounding slap echoed behind you, a short giggle escaped your lips. The woman stomped down the aisle in a tiff, while the extremely forward marine and his buddy took their seats, joining the lonely marine you had been admiring.

You shook your head at the antics, turning your attention back to your paper. The boys’ voices across the aisle carried over to your side, but you tried to tune them out, not wanting to unintentionally eavesdrop. You urged yourself to focus on the words in front of you, but your ears betrayed you. After reading the same sentence over four times, not digesting a single word, your gaze drifted back over to your marine, who had taken up buttering the biscuit that had been sitting on his plate. His posture and manner had shifted, he seemed more relaxed in the presence of his fellow soldiers. His eyes were soft and friendly, and the ghost of a smile had taken up residence on his face.

“Guess I’m gonna find out soon enough whether I’m getting married or not,” the colonel who sat across from your marine declared wistfully before turning his attention to your marine. “What about you, Sledgehammer?”

You grinned at what you assumed was a nickname. How a seemingly mild-mannered fellow like your marine could have gotten the moniker of “Sledgehammer” was beyond you. Your eyes drifted back to the man, interested in his answer. He seemed to ponder the question for a moment, a flash of uncertainty briefly crossing his face as he picked at his biscuit.

“I’m just hoping this Florence girl comes to her senses,” he finally cracked with a smirk. So he was clever, too. You found that you couldn’t help but smile through the exchange, your gaze dropping back to your lap.

“Got a job lined up in Mobile?” An Alabama boy. That was an interesting development.

“Nah,” he revealed, his apparent uncertainty no longer bothering him. “No job, no girl…no plans.”

You and the lone marine had more in common than you had originally thought.

“How long you think that’s gonna last?” the flirtatious marine from before inquired, relaxing back in his seat. But the laughter of a pair of businessmen passing by your table concealed the marine’s answer. You shot a glare towards the rowdy gentlemen’s backs. How dare they prevent you from snooping on some strangers’ conversation!

Your gaze fell back to the trio of boys, and you couldn’t help but admire the redhead’s smile. The way his eyes lit up with warmth at his friends’ jokes, the way the dimple between his brows appeared and disappeared -- he was beautiful.

You were lost in your musings when for a brief moment, your marine’s eyes suddenly locked on to yours.

His smile fell and a look you couldn’t identify -- confusion? recognition? irritation? -- flashed across the features of his handsome face before you broke the spell and looked back down at your paper. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you stared down at the black ink on the page. How embarrassing. You had been boldly staring at the man for an inappropriate amount of time -- listening to his conversation, no less -- and now you had been caught.

You couldn’t help but think about the marine’s reaction. In the fleeting moment that he held your gaze, it was almost as if he’d seen a ghost. You didn’t want him to think you were some creep or some crazy woman.

You lifted your eyes slightly, glancing across the aisle. Your marine’s cheeks were pink as he gazed back at you softly - but only for a moment before his eyes quickly fell back down to the plate in front of him.

And that became the game you played. As the train chugged through the desert - what you assumed was Arizona - you and your marine took turns stealing glances at each other. First you, then he’d notice and you’d look away. Then he’d stare and you’d catch him. Each time, a rosy color would come to his cheeks and a hint of a smile would appear. Your own shyness began to fade with each time you’d catch him, even throwing him a wink at one point.

After another hour or so, your marine’s friends elected to head back to their coach seats. You assumed your game was over, and you tried to not let yourself be too disappointed. You closed your paper, having finally read every word -- though whether you absorbed any of it was up for debate. You gathered your things, pondering your next move. Maybe you’d wander to the observation car - it tended to be quieter as the sun went down. You slung your messenger bag over your shoulder and were about to step into the aisle when you were met with the sight of your marine, alone once again, staring out the window. Just like the first time you noticed him.

You took a deep breath, channeled your sister’s boldness and took a seat at the marine’s table.

--

It was her. The mystery woman. The beautiful girl clad in burgundy from the train platform was sitting across from Eugene.

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts as he gaped at her. He had spent the last hour stealing glances at her across the aisle, unsure if she was real or simply a vision. Now there she was, close enough for Eugene to reach out and touch her, gazing at him with soft eyes and a friendly smile.

“Hi,” she spoke after a few moments, breaking the silence and Eugene’s daze.

“Hi,” Eugene practically whispered, unable to find his voice. He cleared his throat before starting again. “I do apologize for staring, miss. You know, before.”

The young woman let out a soft chuckle, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, let’s not pretend you were the sole offender, private. I believe I was staring at you first.” Oh how wrong she was. But Eugene would keep that correction to himself.

She offered her name and her hand across the table for a shake, and Eugene almost immediately felt at ease in her presence. She certainly was not like the girls back in Mobile.

“I’m Eugene,” he offered in return, trying to ignore how soft her hand felt in his. She smirked as she let him go.

“So where does ‘Sledgehammer’ come from then?” she questioned with a quirked brow, and Eugene flushed at his nickname falling from her gentle lips.

“My last name. Sledge,” he explained. “Private First Class Eugene Bondurant Sledge, at your service, miss.” His explanation earned a bright smile from the girl, and Eugene decided right then and there that he’d do anything he could to make her smile again.

“Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sledge,” she said with a nod.

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine, miss.”

The woman playfully narrowed her eyes at Eugene, as if she were examining him.

“Was all that true? Before?” she asked before pursing her lips.

“Was what true?”

“No job. No girl. No plans,” she recited back to him, adding a twang to her normal voice. Eugene could feel the heat in his cheeks once again. He let out a nervous chuckle and scratched at the back of his neck.

“‘Fraid so, miss,” he responded, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Hope you don’t think less of me.” The woman shook her head as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Of course not,” she assured him. “I just don’t believe you.” She shrugged and cocked an eyebrow challengingly. Eugene was thrown off by her answer.

“You don’t believe me?” he inquired with a furrowed brow. She casually shrugged once again, as if she was making perfect sense.

“No way you can be this handsome and charming and not have a girl waiting for you back home.”

If the young woman was on a mission to make Eugene blush at all costs, she was extremely successful. Eugene shakily laughed as he stared down at his lap, unable to meet her gaze after that.

“My apologies, Mr. Sledge,” she spoke again, and Eugene let himself glance back up to see her timidly looking away this time. “That was awfully forward of me.”

Eugene was so thrown by his woman in burgundy. The prettiest dame he’d ever laid eyes on had gone out of her way to talk to him. Ask him questions. Compliment him. Yet he could see that she was just as nervous as he was. It was disarming in a way.

“No apology necessary, miss,” Eugene affirmed, offering a friendly smile when she met his gaze once again. “I’m just not used to getting attention from a gal as beautiful as you.”

A new game began. Eugene and his woman in burgundy took turns trying to make the other bashful, his confidence rising with every clever quip and retort to her own flirtations.

Eugene wouldn’t realize until much later that he hadn’t thought once about the war the entire evening.

--

“I feel like I should ask,” Eugene spoke up, rousing you from your thoughts. The two of you had relocated from the dining car to the observation car. You had been correct: it was virtually empty at this time of night, and the two of you were enjoying the peace. “Where are you off to?” You gave him a lopsided smile.

“Home,” you replied. “Tallahassee, Florida. Lived there my whole life until a few years ago.”

“Florida, huh? Why we’re practically neighbors,” Eugene commented with a grin. “So how did you end up in San Diego?”

“Few years back, my older sister married some businessman from California. Didn’t even get a chance to meet the man myself before he was drafted and shipped off to Europe.”

Eugene listened intently as you told your story. You knew he understood the horrors of war more than anyone else you’d ever spoken to.

“She demanded I come out to San Diego to stay with her,” you explained. “She’s always had terrible nerves and couldn’t bear to be alone in the house. So I took the train out, got a job at a bond office, and spent my free time keeping my sister away from the radio.” You let out a sigh and let your eyes fall to your lap before going on. “By the end, we assumed he’d be coming home safe and sound. They told us he was shot two days before the ceasefire was called.”

“To say my sister was distraught would be quite the understatement. After locking herself in her room for a week followed by five months of her ignoring my existence entirely, she told me I had until the end of the week to leave. Perfect timing really, since the bond office had terminated me that morning. No more war meant no more war bonds.” You shrugged as you recalled your story, as if it wasn’t such a fresh wound. You chanced a peek at Eugene, expecting a look of pity. But instead you were met with his warm hazel eyes, expressing nothing but understanding.

“So now here I am. Headed home. No job. No man. No plans,” you finished with a wink. Eugene smiled at your quip before turning to gaze out into the darkness.

“It seems like we both deserve to just do nothing for a while,” he suggested. Doing nothing. You quite liked the sound of that.

“Inspired idea, private.”

Eugene’s warm eyes locked on to yours once again, and you swore everything stopped and fell away. Nothing mattered except the marine in front of you, his bright smile, the lock of auburn hair that had fallen out of place. He was beautiful and clever and sweet, and though you knew he was haunted by his past, you’d never hold that against him. Gosh, you knew it was ridiculous, seeing as though you’d only met the man a few hours ago. But there was a part of you that wanted to pull him into your arms and never let go. Be there to make him laugh and make sure he knew he was safe. Listen to his stories and share yours in return. You wanted to do nothing for a while, like Eugene had said, but do that nothing with him next to you.

As you continued to gaze at the handsome man before you, you absent-mindedly tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. And you swore that for a brief moment, Eugene’s eyes fell to your mouth.

You practically lept to your feet, letting out a shaky breath before speaking.

“Well, I’m going to get some shut-eye,” you announced as you collected your things. “I suggest you do the same, private. Or at the very least you should spend some time with your friends before you have to see them off tomorrow.” Eugene, seemingly confused by the suddenness of your exit, nodded a few times before finding his voice.

“Right,” he said, “Well, goodnight.”

You cringed at what sounded like disappointment in his voice. You hadn’t meant to offend him - you just got startled is all.

You offered him a warm smile. “Goodnight, Eugene.”

You spun on your heels and headed for the doorway before you could change your mind and kiss him the way you really wanted to.

--

Eugene didn’t get much sleep that night, but that was nothing new. What changed is what kept him up. Thoughts of his burgundy girl swam through his head most of the night. He replayed every conversation they’d had, half of the time berating himself for what he said and the other half thinking about what he wished he’d said instead.

Snafu made sure to point out the bags under Eugene’s eyes that morning at breakfast.

But Eugene didn’t pay him any mind. He was too busy keeping an eye out for the woman, hoping he could flag her down to at least wish her a good morning.

By the late afternoon, there was no sign of the woman, and Eugene, Snafu, and Burgie had moved back to a booth in the coach car. Burgie was antsy, knowing they were not far out from his hometown of Jewett. He was recalling his excitement to see his little brother again when Snafu interrupted him, tapping his hand on Burgie’s chest.

“Would you look at her,” Snafu drawled out. Eugene glanced over his shoulder to where Snafu was indicating, only to be met with the sight of the very woman who had been on his mind all day, casually walking down the aisle towards him. She had traded out her burgundy ensemble for a cream colored blouse and a navy skirt. Eugene perked up, sitting up straight in hopes of getting her attention. But Snafu was faster, rising to his feet and cutting her off. She was surprised for a moment, but a look of recognition flashed across her face.

“Afternoon, miss,” Snafu greeted as the woman eyed him warily. Then her eyes flitted over to Eugene and a hint of a smile appeared. Then she looked back at Snafu.

“Something I can do for you, soldier?” she asked, arching an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest.

“Ohh, there’s a lot you can do for me, girlie,” Snafu countered. “Hows about we head somewhere private and I’ll show you?”

Something in Eugene’s chest tightened at Snafu’s words. Sure, he had watched Snafu use line after line on any girl in his vicinity since they boarded the train. Even laughed at the man’s antics at times. But something was different about him putting the moves on his girl--or at least his friend. Acquaintance? Eugene didn’t know what the two of them were.

“Tempting,” she responded, rousing Eugene from his thoughts. ��But I think I’m gonna sit and enjoy my book instead. Thank you for the offer, private.”

Snafu seemed confused -- Eugene assumed he was used to either getting the girl or getting a slap. He probably wasn’t used to getting no reaction at all. Snafu plopped back down in his seat, his brows furrowed, and Eugene chanced a look at the woman. She shot him a wink before settling in the booth directly across the aisle from the group of men and pulled out a book.

Eugene fidgeted in his seat -- his instinct was to go join her. But he respected her wishes. Maybe he’d ask her to dinner later.

--

It wasn’t long after you had settled into your booth that you watched Eugene say goodbye to his sergeant.

The mutual respect was evident, and the goodbye was definitely bittersweet. The normally chatty boys fell silent after he left, and Eugene’s far away look returned once again.

Eugene’s flirtatious friend then announced he was headed to the dining car to get a drink, and Eugene simply nodded, his gaze never leaving the window.

You waited until the audacious marine was clear out of the car before you shifted across the aisle to grab his empty seat. Eugene perked up immediately, sitting up and grinning.

“Afternoon, miss,” he greeted with a nod. “Sorry about Snafu before. I think he’s determined to pester every woman on this train before he gets off.”

“Oh, no apologies necessary,” you assured him with a chuckle. “I found it quite funny.”

Eugene’s eyes sparkled as he looked at you. Gosh, you’d almost forgotten how beautiful he was in the sunlight. Those hazel eyes you could just get lost in. You noticed the littlest bit of stubble had formed across his upper lip and around his jaw since last night.

Then you realized you were staring again and you quickly dropped your eyes to your lap out of habit.

“How’s your book?” Eugene spoke up, easing the awkwardness. You appreciated the gesture.

“It’s good so far,” you explained, patting the cover. “Not the most uplifting thing to read on the train, but I’m hoping it ends on a happy note.”

“What’s it about?”

You sighed as you stared at the book in your hands. “It’s about family hardships. Talks about poverty and alcoholism.” You paused to think for a moment before looking back up at Eugene with a smirk. “I don’t mind reading sad stories usually. But I can’t help but wish I’d stolen a happier book from my sister on my way out.”

That earned a chuckle from Eugene.

“Well, I--”

“Now now, what have we here?”

The two of you had been so focused on each other that neither of you had noticed that Eugene’s friend -- you remembered Eugene called him Snafu -- had returned, and was leaning against the side of the booth with a bottle of Coke in his hand.

“Thought you wanted to read your book?” Snafu continued, a playful tone to his voice. He cocked an eyebrow before taking a sip of his soda. You glanced over at Eugene to find him beet red in the face.

“Actually, I was just inviting Mr. Sledge here to grab some dinner with me,” you improvised, not wanting to have to lose your alone time with Eugene. “If he’d like.” His eyes lit up.

“I would be honored, miss,” Eugene replied, getting to his feet and holding a hand out for you. Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling as you placed your hand into his and let him help you from the booth. Eugene looped your arm under his and began to lead you down the aisle when Snafu’s slow, southern dialect called out behind you.

“Oh, I see how it is. Well, don’t have too much fun, you two!”

--

“So what did you miss the most while you were away?”

The question surprised Eugene a little bit. It was the first time she had asked him anything that had to do with his experience in the war.

“My dog,” he replied, his eyes dropping to his half-empty plate. “Closest friend I’ve ever had. He passed while I was gone.”

She nodded in understanding, and Eugene appreciated that she didn’t offer him pity.

“Dogs really are better than humans sometimes.”

Eugene simply nodded as his gaze drifted out the window. Time passing in the pacific had been a blur, even with him keeping track of the days in his notebook. He couldn’t even remember when it was he got the letter about Deacon. Maybe it was sometime during Okinawa? It must have been. He was just so angry --

“Where do you go?” The woman’s voice interrupted Eugene’s thoughts, and he blinked rapidly as he realized he had been zoning out.

“Sorry, what?”

The woman seemed unfazed. She simply looked at him with curiosity, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“When I first saw you yesterday, you were staring out the window. Eyes glazed over, lost in thought. You’ve done it a few times actually,” she explained. “You drifted off the same way just now. So my question is, where do you go?”

Where to start? Should he sit there and detail the horrors he’d seen? How every second he spent on those islands would flash before him, his brain forcing him to relive the atrocities he’d witnessed and been a part of? And could he even begin to put into words how affected he was? Was it fair to unload his burdens on this innocent girl, who’d brought him nothing but peace since he had set foot on the train platform?

“Back there,” was all he said, hoping it would be enough. It seemingly was, as his dinner date nodded her head once again. A silence settled over the pair, and Eugene couldn’t help but kick himself. If he hadn’t gotten lost in his thoughts before, she wouldn’t have asked and they could have continued their lovely dinner.

“I’m no expert,” the woman spoke up, and Eugene’s eyes locked on to hers. “But I have a feeling it’s going to take some time for you boys to fully leave that place.” The woman leaned forward, and Eugene was struck by how warm and comforting her eyes were. “And in my humble opinion, the world shouldn’t expect you to be okay right away.”

Eugene was blown away. This woman -- this beautiful, funny, clever, smart woman, who’d never set foot on a battlefield in her life -- somehow got it. Sure she hadn’t physically seen the things that Eugene had seen, and she never would, so she couldn’t completely understand. But she respected him and what he’d been through. And not in a superficial way, like when strangers on the street would thank him for his service. But in a way that made him feel seen and heard -- without having to speak a word of the horrors out loud.

With a nod of his head, Eugene finally spoke up.

“I appreciate that,” he said. “Now if only the rest of the world agreed with you.”

--

By the time Eugene and you walked back to the coach car, the sun had gone down completely. You could tell Eugene was beat, and you wondered if he even had slept the night before with how large the bags under his eyes were.

You tucked yourself back into your booth across from the boys, continuing where you left off in your sister’s novel.

The boys were relatively quiet next to you, and you realized after only a few moments that Eugene was out cold, slumbering against his duffle.

It soothed you to see him so peaceful. Your conversation over dinner had confirmed what you had expected to be true: Eugene could put on a face, but behind the facade he was extremely haunted by his time overseas.

It truly wasn’t fair. No one should be subjected to such horrors. Young boys with their futures ahead of them, shipped off to some foreign country, to either die or come back missing a piece of themselves? Tearing families apart and turning cities to rubble? It all seemed so pointless.

You were just one person. Just a simple girl from a small town, lost in your own life, unsure of where the path ahead would lead. But you had a loving heart and a warm embrace. And you’d give them both to Eugene, no questions asked. You could see yourself walking down that path with his hand in yours, figuring out how to navigate the future together. The thought of Eugene being there made it a little less terrifying. And you wanted nothing more than for Eugene to go through the rest of his life never feeling unsafe ever again.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the train slowed to a stop. You watched as Snafu slowly got to his feet and grabbed his duffle from the bunk, swinging it over his shoulder. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking back at Eugene before stepping into the aisle. His eyes locked onto yours and he cocked his head back towards the sleeping marine.

“It’s rare to sleep well these days. Don’t want to ruin that,” he mumbled, clearly feeling like he had to explain himself to you. “I’m not one for goodbyes either.” You offered him an understanding nod and a friendly smile. Snafu returned your nod before heading down the aisle and out the door.

Sometimes you didn’t understand why men did the things they did. But you’d also never be able to understand the connection and camaraderie between servicemen. So you didn’t question Snafu’s decision to leave without waking Eugene.

Another hour or so had passed after the stop in New Orleans when you heard a whimper from across the aisle. Your eyes shot over to Eugene and your heart practically stopped. His eyes were closed tightly, his brow pinched, and he was gripping his own arms so hard his knuckles were practically white. He shook and thrashed in his seat, small cries escaping his lips that seemed to increase in volume each second.

You lept to your feet, throwing your book into your booth behind you before plopping next to Eugene and gently resting your hands on his.

“Eugene,” you whispered, trying not to wake him too harshly. He was clearly having a nightmare, and you didn’t know if trying to startle him awake was the right move. “Eugene, honey, wake up.”

He continued to shake, sweat forming on his forehead and his cries growing louder and louder. You moved your hands to his face, cupping his jaw gently and running your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Eugene!” you spoke louder and suddenly his eyes shot open and he sat up, gasping for air, but your hold on him prevented him from going too far. He blinked rapidly as his chest heaved, trying to get his bearings, but you continued to caress his face, murmuring affirmations to help him.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” you assured him. His big, hazel eyes were so sad as they stared into yours, and tears had begun to fall to his red cheeks. He let out a sob and you pulled him to your chest, cradling the back of his head as you wrapped your other arm around him. You held him close to you as he cried, your heart breaking at seeing him like this. You wished you could take every burden away from him. He didn’t deserve this. No one did.

A few nosy guests began to peek over their seats to see what was happening, frowns painted on their faces. As if this poor man’s trauma was an inconvenience to them. You glared daggers at them, and they shied away, slipping back into their seats.

You lost track of time, absentmindedly running your fingers through Eugene’s auburn locks as you held him. You began to softly hum a melody, a song that always comforted you when you were upset. Eugene’s cries began to quiet down, and his body shakes ceased.

Suddenly, he tensed in your arms before pulling away entirely. He wiped at his cheeks roughly as he sniffled, eyes locked on to his lap. You watched him carefully, unsure of what to do.

“Sorry,” he croaked out, his voice scratchy. “I, uh -- um, thank you for…” he trailed off, gesturing towards you with his hand.

“It’s okay,” you replied timidly. You knew he was embarrassed but you wanted to pull him back into your arms and assure him that he had no reason to be. But you waited, wanting him to come to you. His brow furrowed and you could practically hear his brain thinking.

“Now I guess you can see how broken I really am,” he said after a few moments and your heart ached.

“Eugene,” you practically cried. But he didn’t respond, instead turning sharply to face the dark window and letting out a shaky breath.

A tear escaped down your own cheek, your heart stinging at the rejection. But you opted to respect his space. With a sigh, you stood and shifted back over to your booth. You didn’t bother picking up your book, instead deciding to pull your own trunk and coat down from the rack and settling against them, hoping maybe you could get a little sleep.

--

Eugene didn’t bother trying to fall back asleep -- he knew wait awaited him in his dreams. Instead he focused on what he could see out of the train window. The sun eventually rose into the sky, and Eugene could finally see the greenery of Mississippi just before the train crossed the border into his home state.

He hadn’t taken a moment to look over at the woman he knew was still in the booth across from him. He couldn’t bear it. He was so ashamed of her seeing him like that. And then even more ashamed at how he’d pushed her away after she had been so kind to him. She hadn’t needed to comfort him, she had no obligation to do so. Yet she held him anyway. And Eugene had thanked her with a cold shoulder.

As the train pulled into the Mobile station, Eugene’s eyes scanned the platform. He couldn’t help but smile when he spotted Sid, leaning against his car.

Eugene slid out of the booth, grabbing his duffle and throwing it over his shoulder. A small voice sounded next to him.

“Eugene?”

The marine turned to find his woman in burgundy, eyes filled with so much worry, holding out a piece of paper.

“If you want to write. You don’t have to,” she explained, her voice uneasy. Eugene could feel his chest tighten. He hated that he had hurt her, made it so that she was so unsure around him. He gently took the piece of paper from her hand, his finger brushing hers just slightly. He was so tongue-tied, he had no idea what to say to her. So he simply offered her a soft smile and tucked the paper into his coat pocket.

As he made his way down the aisle, Eugene took a deep breath. Maybe one day he’d work up the nerve to write to her. He’d explain his actions and apologize profusely for his behavior. Hope that she’d forgive him but would understand if she didn’t.

But what was the point if he was always going to be broken?

--

You didn’t think you missed Tallahassee. But after settling back into your childhood home, visiting some of your old haunts, and reuniting with old friends, you’d begun to realize its charm.

Now that all the men were home from the war, jobs for women were scarce. You spent most of your time helping your mother around the house or taking walks downtown. Every so often you and some girlfriends would drive down to the beach, but other than that, you didn’t get up to much.

It had been a little over two months since you’d gotten home. You would have been lying if you said you hadn’t checked the mailbox religiously -- each day hoping a letter from Eugene would arrive. You knew the two of you had parted ways rather awkwardly, and you understood if a letter never arrived. But you really hoped you’d hear from him.

You opened the mailbox, only finding some random letters for your father. With a sigh, you headed back inside the house, dropping the letters on your father’s desk before heading down the hall to your room.

You collapsed on your bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling. You needed to get Eugene off your mind. Maybe some of your friends knew some local servicemen who weren’t spoken for.

You were lost in your musings when a knock sounded at your door. Your mother called your name from the other side.

“You have a gentleman caller, dear,” she explained through the wood. “I didn’t know you knew any marines!”

You sat up with a jolt, eyes wide. Could it be?

“Be there in a minute, ma!” you called out, rushing to your vanity. You quickly checked yourself over, fixing your hair just slightly and patting down your skirt. You cursed at how your bed had wrinkled your blouse, but you didn’t have time to fix it. And if your caller was who you thought it was, you were sure he wouldn’t mind.

You practically flung open your door, pausing in the hall to take a deep breath before stepping out.

You were greeted with the sight of Private First Class Eugene Bondurant Sledge, adorned in his uniform, standing in your living room.

Eugene’s face lit up at your entrance, a huge smile plastered across his face. You grinned as you took him in -- he was even more handsome than you remembered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write,” he said, breaking the silence. “I needed some time to get settled back home. And I figured you deserved an in-person apology for my actions.”

“Eugene, you have nothing to apologize for, I promise you,” you assured him as you took a step forward. You itched to reach out to him, but you knew your mother was watching nearby. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Eugene was here, in the flesh, in your living room in Tallahassee. You could barely believe it.

“Ma’am? Do you mind if I take your daughter out for a walk around the neighborhood? I promise we’ll be back before supper,” Eugene inquired, addressing your mother, who had been lingering in the doorway of the kitchen. She grinned as she clasped her hands together.

“As long as you promise to join us for supper, Mr. Sledge.”

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am,” Eugene said with a sharp nod. He turned back to you and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

With a beaming smile, you looped your arm through his and let him lead you out the front door.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, soaking up each other’s presence in the warm Floridian air. You nudged his shoulder slightly.

“I was right, you know,” you spoke up.

“About what?”

“You do have a girl.”

--

Permanent Taglist: @queenlover05 @mrhoemazzello @johndeaconshands @sadhwstudent @theblossomknows​ @stardust-galaxies​ @im-an-adult-ish​

[emerald-amidst-gold]

otp asks 1, 4, 9? 👀

My final ask for the night! I'm so appreciative of everybody that sends these, just so you all know! *sends all the hugs and good vibes!* Like, I'm gonna be sappy here for a minute and just say, thank you because I really didn't think anyone would ever be interested in Fane or any of my ideas, so again, thank you! And I will try to reciprocate more often (work bogs me down and then I hop on to ask stuff and I'm like, "Noooo! All of them are taken! D:")

*sniffles like a CHILD* ANYWAYS, LET ME BE SAPPY WITH OTHER THINGS!

1. What are things they both find funny?

I did answer this in another ask, BUT I have something else! >:D

He wanted to do it. He didn't know why, but he wanted to do it. It was so tempting, so tantalizing. It wouldn't do any harm, surely! Just a quick one. Two seconds tops! The force would be undeniable! A passion unleashed as centuries of yearning exploded with the fluttering and clattering of objects! His body light, his soul flying!

He needed to do it!

"Fane, do not--"

"You don't understand, Solas. I have to."

"No, no you do not."

"It won't do anything harmful!"

"You will destroy the table!"

"It's a table, you old fart! I can buy a new one!"

"Fane."

"I'm doing it. End of discussion. Here I...GO!"

There it was. Freeing, falling, flying until his boots connected with hard wood, a surface splintering, cracking, snapping as the force of his desire split Solas's desk in two. Cleanly, Fane would admit as he inspected his destruction, having vaulted over the railing from the rookery down to the rotunda.

"See? No harm, no foul.", Fane said, indicating with a sweep of his arm to the remnants of the desk as well as strewn about books, candles, and various parchments. "Just a mess. One I will not be cleaning up because you wouldn't let me do this from the battlements to begin with."

Solas stood directly next to where he was surrounded by debris, pinching the bridge of his nose and sucking in deep breaths through it to no doubt calm seething exasperation at his little stunt.

"Why must you do this? What can you not just accept you you cannot fly?", Solas questioned, voice strained and trying oh so very hard not to rise.

"I haven't observed enough to conclude I can't fly. So, I can't accept it until then.", Fane said with a shrug. He thought the mage knew how his nature operated by now.

"You have no wings!", Solas exclaimed finally, throwing his hand down form his nose to level Fane with a blue-grey glare.

"Again, not enough observation to conclude that."

"I..I..", Solas gaped before taking in another deep, steadying breath before methodically and mechanically beginning to clean up his workspace that had become the sight of a dragon attack. "I suppose I see the logic. Yes. Yes, of course. Carry on as you were, ma'isenatha."

Fane watched the mage slowly gather his things, occasionally slamming a book a bit too harshly as an eyebrow twitched and lips muttered incoherently, stormy eyes swirling with a hurricane, but not connecting with his own lest it unleash its true fury. He shrugged a bit, turning his gaze away from the raging storm of his lover to once again inspect the fruits of his desires with silent pride. He had had his release, and it felt good, even if it were just for a moment.

And next time would be the battlements, wings or no.

(Himbo Fane? Very tired Solas? It's more likely than you think! :D)

4. What would be their ship name?

I was thinking about this for a while, not gonna lie. XD But I kind of wanted to take Fane's draconic name 'Aterian' and combine it with Solas' name.

Sooooo...'Solarian'? Or 'Atlas'?! Is this how ship names work? Pffft!

9. Have they made each other cry?

Yes, but not through an argument or anything. It's more that the truth has led them to make the other cry. Fane and Solas don't mince words with each other. They don't placate the other with comforting words because they both know that it isn't the truth. Right now, I'm writing my 'Finding Skyhold' scene for my main fic, and basically, it's a very, very hard time for Fane because everything has come back to him. His memories, his identity, his connection with Solas; all of it. However, between all that, Fane still feels disconnected, lost, adrift, grey. He doesn't know what or who he's supposed to be, even though his memories are saying, in bold letters, 'dragon'. It's the first everyone will read of Fane crying, like I mean crying, and in that moment he just looks at Solas and asks, "Who am I? What am I? What am I?!" and Solas just stares at him, gives him one of those sad smiles of his, and says, "I don't know. Ir abelas. I don't know." and that breaks Fane, but not adversely. It's the truth, and as painful as it is, he wants the truth, not platitudes.

In regards to Solas, Fane makes him cry during the assault on Haven. The least opportune time, I know, but there's a lot of shit that goes down during the transition from Haven to Skyhold. Suffice it to say, the orb that Corypheus possesses, Solas' orb, of course, sends Fane into a frenzy and this frenzy is what killed him centuries before. At this point, Solas has suspicions around Fane's identity, but he's been denying them for fear and from grief. But when he witnesses Fane just break and start destroying literally anything his eyes land upon, it all clicks into place, it all makes sense and Solas is overcome with so many emotions that he breaks while trying to wrangle Fane into submission, to bring his dragon back when he had failed to do so before. However, the real tears don't begin to flow until he sees crimson ebb away from emerald and gold. Fane and Solas are practically body to body as a staff blade cuts into a since then perfect pale cheek, and as blood drips and forms tremble, chests heaving and both wide eyed as they stare at each other in fear, in recognition, in disbelief, the only thing Solas can think to say as tears pour down his sullied face and the weightless one has when falling backwards surrounds him is:

"You're alive." *chef's kiss*

[they-call-me-the-fomfather]

Quarantine Fic Rec

So I decided to do a Sterek fic rec of some of my favs because it’s quarantine and I’ve literally re-read these sooooo many times.

Please heed the warnings! I am an adult and thus read E, if that’s not for you, no worries, there’s other fic on here and out there! DO NOT READ E if you shouldn’t or don’t want to. Let’s all be cool consenting adults, yeah?

Leave a comment on AO3 if you like any of them!

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill (32,052 | 1/1 | T)

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy (52,270 | 16/16 |  E)

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

Play It Again by metisket (63,206 | 3/3 | T)

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

Misfire by mothlights, unpossible (28,804 | 6/6 | T)

“The debt must be repaid,” she says, and it has the weight of a vow. The words resonate through him, ringing through his ribcage and the bones of his jaw, and Stiles loses his breath and maybe his grip on reality because she draws herself upright and where there had once stood a supermodel-level MILF now there is Galadriel’s much hotter older sister, a Presence of unmistakable power in their ordinary, smells-vaguely-of-Thai-takeout hallway.

“Oh shit,” Stiles says.

Help Wanted (But Not Really) by reillyblack (26,097 | 9/9 | M)

"Stiles, I'll clear up your confusion about the position. Derek here needs someone to live with him. He's a difficult person to live with, so I won't sugarcoat that. But his responsibilities at the company right now make it impossible for him to actually take care of himself and his home. That would be your job," Laura explained.

Both Stiles and Derek objected at the same time.

Wolves in the Timber by adeepeningdig (17,217 | 3/3 | T)

Stiles had always thought that Derek would understand, maybe. If Derek had been around to talk about it. He would know what it was like to think that maybe it wasn’t a fluke, maybe there’s something in you, something twisted that pulls blood and betrayal and death to you, like a remnant of your mother’s disease, her monstrous confusion, still encoded in your genes. Stiles still dreams of that day in the loft, the water lapping at his ankles and the dirty light. Derek’s stricken face. He wonders if there are days when Derek wants to tear his own hands off too. But Derek wasn’t around, and now he’s a wolf. So.

He’s 28 years old, it’s been years. He’s past all that. He should be past all that.

There’s a black wolf panting on the floor of his apartment like an accusation. Stiles knows that there’s nothing that Lydia can say or do. He’s not projecting, it’s the truth, it’s the kinship he’s always felt with Derek, and if he could curl into his animal self, he would, and maybe he would stay there. It would be easier that way.

Good News, Bad News, Very Good News by clotpolesonly (2,088 | 1/1 | G)

Bad news: Keys locked inside. Good news: Experienced lockpick Stiles Stilinski, at your service. Worse news: Boss-man might think he was a juvenile delinquent. Better news: Cute deputy totally saw him being badass. Worst news: Deputy already knows he's a total loser, it is Too Late. Best news: Deputy doesn't seem to mind.

Constantly on the Cusp by alisvolatpropiis (40,884 | 13/13 | E)

Stiles is gay, out and proud, and a Beacon Hills deputy. Derek is a firefighter and war veteran who thinks he's straight; or, Derek and Stiles have lots of semi-public hatesex on the road to Love.

A Knight in Shining Flannel by elpie (horribibble) (3,650 | 1/1 | T)

When a frantic phone call from his daughter sends him speeding across town, Derek Hale is prepared for the worst.

What he finds instead are the Stilinskis.

-

An AU featuring tiny werewolves, awkward single dads, and one bad babysitter.

Strut on a Line, its Discord and Rhyme by xiaq (61,811 | 21/21 | T)

“Carry me,” Stiles says.

“No.”

“But I’m injured.”

“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”

“Please?”

“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”

"Well, yeah, but I pooped like an hour ago, so.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t play, you love me.”

I do, Derek thinks, relatively horrified. I really do.

Wolf in the House by joelawson (33,481 | 1/1 | T)

“What? It’s totally an improvement. He’s not scowling, or dating bad guys, or slinking around in unsanitary places. Still a bit paranoid, but what can you do. At least he’s a lot easier to get along with when you can buy his affections with ear rubs.”

“And you always wanted a dog,” Sheriff added wryly.

“And I always wanted a dog.”

Suspicious Minds by hellhole (sweetfanfics) (40,105 | 1/1 | E)

“Don’t feed Balto your pizza,” Stiles mildly warns his daughter.

“Derek.”

Stiles pauses, mouth open and cheese sliding off the pizza as he parrots, “Derek? Who’s Derek?”

His daughter rolls her eyes, like Stiles has just asked her the dumbest question ever. “The wolf, Daddy!”

“You changed his name?” Stiles asks in surprise. Usually she’s pretty set about naming things. Her doll’s name was decided two seconds after receiving it, the car has been Alonzo for three years now, and the toaster ‘Pop’ for the last six months.

Meg nods, prodding the sliding cheese back on top of her slice. “Yeah. He told me his name is Derek. And that he doesn’t really like Balto.”

“Is that right?” he asks, eyeing the wolf who seems far too interested in watching a pair of animated moose arguing. It’s official. This wolf is weird. This whole situation is weird.

-- Separated from Laura after being cornered by some hunters, an injured Derek finds himself being rescued by Stiles and his young daughter. In more than one way.

Our Lives are Changing Lanes by grimm (47, 537 | 1/1 | E)

There's a lot of screaming going on inside the first house Stiles visits. He isn't really worried, because it sounds like kids, but then the door opens and hi, says his dick, because the dude in front of him is gorgeous, built like a god with a face like thunder. Stiles wants to lick that solid jaw line. Hold the fuck on, says his cop brain, because the dude's got kids hanging all over him; one's on his back, skinny legs looped around his waist, and another two hanging off one arm, toes barely brushing the ground. There's a tubby toddler clinging to his leg like a koala, and he's got a baby tucked into the crook of the one arm that doesn’t have kids hanging off it. Stiles' mouth drops open.

"How many of those kids did you kidnap?" he asks before he can wrangle his brain into submission.

The man gives him a look that says what the fuck is wrong with you and snaps, "You think I'd subject myself to this on purpose?"

"Oooh," says one of the kids hanging off his arm. "I'm telling Mom."

There’s hella more where these came from, I’ve literally got a list of over 3,000 fic I’ve read, so if anyone likes, I can do another!

Stay safe but don’t stay bored,

Fomfather

[fruit-teeth]

Fem!merc OCs: a character list

LONG POST UP AHEAD

People were interested in my fem!merc OCS, sooooo here you go! Just some background: these characters will be in my fanfic Black Sky (which can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18373481/chapters/43506845) but since they haven’t really been introduced there I’ll introduce them here. 

These characters work for a company called Sterling Enterprises, run by another OC of mine named Sterling. He hires these mercenaries, and in Black Sky, they wind up joining forces with Mann Co.

Anyway, here they are. I got a little carried away at points but I hope that’s not a problem! 

Molly (Fem!Scout)

Molly is a twenty-three-year-old woman from Brooklyn hired by Sterling Enterprises as a mercenary. She’s Scout’s female counterpart and she’s just as fast as him, as well as just as dangerous when provoked. However, she’s very friendly and sweet to the people she likes, and she’s outgoing and loves parties.

Despite this, she tends to get angry easily, and she’s had multiple arrests for picking fights with people, namely with other women. She survived a bad childhood with her mother’s cousin and after one particularly bad incident, she was bounced from various foster homes before eventually ending up back with her mother as a teenager. Much later, she and her mother were both hired by Sterling Enterprises as mercenaries, where they’ve been ever since.

Veronica (Fem!Sniper)

At 30 years old and possibly originating from somewhere in Ireland (although this has never been confirmed), Veronica is an incredibly skilled archer and won several scholarships during her youth as a result of her amazing ability. She uses guns too, but she’s always felt more comfortable holding a bow than a gun. Veronica’s life changed forever when she shot and killed her abusive husband, which led to her arrest, and when the court didn’t believe her story about self-defense it seemed like she was facing a great deal of prison time. So, Veronica was rather surprised when Sterling appeared and offered her a deal: if he bailed her out of prison, she would serve as a mercenary for his company. Having no other options at the time, she agreed and left prison to work with him, where she has remained ever since.

Veronica is very soft-spoken and gentle, but when provoked she can become an absolute nightmare. She’s a vicious fighter with a near perfect aim, although she knows when to be kind to good people and when to calm down. She doesn’t have many friends but she’s very loyal to the friends she does have.

Mimi (Fem!Demo)

Upon leaving her home in Italy and moving to the US during her childhood, Mimi took out her frustration by spending whatever money she had and using it to buy small explosives. She would then light the explosives in desolate areas like fields, just for the fun of watching them explode. When she became an adult and managed to hold a job as a factory worker, Mimi’s obsession with explosives spiraled out of control when she bought a crate of dynamite and lit it inside of a church at night, which she did in response to the church keeping her from adopting a child. Obviously, she was arrested but was only put through therapy after she was deemed ‘incompetent’ to stand trial. Shortly after this, Sterling discovered her at a shopping mall and offered her a job, which she accepted right away.

Mimi is very excitable but doesn’t always know how to interact with others positively. She loves making friends but prefers spending time around children or animals, which has tied into her desire to be a mother. She taught herself how to create explosives from various materials she found in either the junkyard or from any other bizarre place, and she’s also learned how to be very resourceful. Mimi doesn’t like authority figures and is very strong-willed, although she’s gotten more agreeable over the years.

Judith (Fem!Spy)

Judith’s origins are virtually unknown, but all she’s ever divulged about her backstory is this: she started out as a special effect artist in Hollywood, and it was very clear that she had amazing talent in that area right from the beginning. However, that all changed when she used her skills to disguise herself as her boss in order to get into a high-end VIP club, which obviously led to her getting fired. After this incident, Judith moved on and took up a series of strange, shady jobs with many different companies. At some point during this period of her life, Judith gave birth to her daughter Molly but was unable to care for her at the time, so she gave Molly to her cousin to care for. Several years later, Judith nearly died from a failed mission but managed to survive, and it was in the hospital where she learned of Molly’s issues and decided to take her back.

Sterling learned of Judith through a colleague and was impressed with her skill, so he hired her as a spy, but Judith refused to go alone and asked if her daughter could work with her. Sterling agreed to this, as he needed extra help.

Judith is highly intelligent and well-trained in many areas, and she can even be manipulative in her ways of getting what she wants. While being dangerous, cold, and collected, she’s also very loyal to the right people in her life and she can be an excellent friend to have. She has a soft spot for her daughter, but obviously, she keeps this a secret as to not appear vulnerable.

Nell (fem!Soldier)

Nell was raised by a single father in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming, where she saw virtually no one besides her father daily. Her father, a war veteran, had gone deaf from his experiences on the battlefield and as a result, Nell had to constantly yell to get his attention. Now she’s used to speaking loudly and shouts most of the time, even in normal conversation. Nell’s father also trained her how to fight, and this led to her developing an intense infatuation with fighting and with battles in general, and over time she became a vicious killing machine.

After her father died unexpectedly, the house where the two had lived was about to be foreclosed on and when Nell refused to leave the house, the police had to come to remove her. Nell, however, refused to comply and ended up brutally killing a police officer after he pulled her hair.

Nell faced the death penalty for this offense, but before that was supposed to happen, she mysteriously disappeared, and no one went looking for her. This was because Sterling privately bailed out Nell and even bribed whoever he could to get her into his mercenary team, which Nell happily agreed to join. She doesn’t get action very often, but when she does, Nell is incredibly strong and deadly. Despite her strong and wild nature, Nell is a very loving friend to have and she’s rather childlike in her demeanor. She also has a bad habit of chewing on things which are not meant to be chewed on, like her sleeves or the straps of her helmet.

Scarlett (fem!Medic)

Once a nurse for a mental health ward in Wales, Scarlett had the credentials to be a full-fledged doctor herself but stayed a nurse anyway. She was well-respected at her job until one day, she walked in on a doctor abusing a female patient and lost it. Scarlett attacked the doctor, stabbing him repeatedly and then making the scene look like a suicide. The patient never turned Scarlett in, and charges were never pressed against her. However, Scarlett still quit the job out of guilt and moved to Sweden, where she met her soon to be wife Agnes. The two lived in Sweden for ten years before moving to the US, where they took up jobs as mercenaries for Sterling.

Scarlett has very strong opinions on what’s right and wrong, although her ideas on how society ‘should’ be in her eyes are a bit extreme to many. She wrote and attempted to publish a book about government conspiracy theories, but when no one would publish the book she painstakingly printed out several copies herself and gave them to her teammates, free of charge.

She can be very caring and gentle with her wife and her other teammates, but if angered she will fly into a violent, almost uncontrollable rage. This makes her the perfect doctor for the team, but also the perfect protector.

Agnes (fem!Heavy)

Agnes has not disclosed much about her origins in Sweden, but what is known is that she grew up on a farm with her family and spent most of her days handling cattle. This practice gave her incredible strength, which she still uses to her advantage today. She worked on a railroad during her teen years after dropping out of school, and when she turned 21 her parents began pressuring her to find a husband. Instead, she met Scarlett, and surprised her parents when they got married a year later.

Agnes doesn’t seem the fighting type, as despite her incredible strength she’s very kind and usually quite peaceful. However, she seems to become a different person when she or someone close to her is threatened, and her fighting skills are not something to be underestimated. Handling weapons is nothing new for her, as she has lots of experience working with machines and considers them easier to wrangle than a cow.

Ellen (fem!Engineer)

Under a normal circumstance, Sterling never would have noticed Ellen as she looked to be any other Louisiana factory worker, but she surprised everyone when she used her skills to build a robot that would sense when people got too close to machines in order to prevent accidents. Ellen tried to get the factory to put her device to use, but they rejected her ideas since they were considered ‘too costly’ to use. Instead, Sterling offered Ellen a job as a mercenary, and she accepted.

Ellen is rather nonviolent in nature and instead tries to work out situations diplomatically, but this doesn’t always work, and she ends up using weapons anyway. She didn’t like this at first, but when she discovered she could build any weapon she wanted she found a whole new love for her job. Sometimes she gets carried away, though, and creates weapons that are almost impossible to use since they’re so complex. Ellen is very motherly, especially to any teammates younger than her, and she loves team-building exercises and takes any excuse to socialize with her coworkers.

Amber (fem!Pyro)

All that’s known about Amber is that Ellen rescued her from an abusive situation, and Amber’s ability to work with fire combined with her resilient nature was enough to get her hired. Amber is nonverbally autistic, speaking mostly in sign although she resorts to writing notes as many of her teammates don’t know sign. She loves to set fires, and she has a fascination with watching things melt and burn.

Amber doesn’t always like to be touched, so she’s not very physically affectionate but she loves to give gifts to her teammates.

[siriuslystarbucks]

If both the Potters and Gaunts were descendants of the Peverell family and the Gaunts were also descendants of Salazar Slytherin, would that also make James Potter a descendant of Slytherin? If so, that would be interesting in so many ways. Like imagine the reactions if JAMES POTTER, notorious Gryffindor, can speak parseltongue

(I don’t know anything abt lineage and tbh i don’t feel like looking it up but we are going to RUN with this) Ohhhhh my god can you imagine the shenanigans that would take place if he could? 

I feel like the first thing we have to address is this: Sirius would absolutely rub it in his family’s faces when he found out. “Oh you love Slytherin? My blood traitor boyfriend is a Parselmouth how d’you like THAT.” And, because this is both Sirius and a Parseltonuge situation, he totally buys James a pet snake-- one with lots and lots of red (and yellow if he can swing it)-- and they probably name it Fork for its forked tongue and as a Marauder Designation™. They also pretend like its their child. 

He takes pics of James and Fork together and sends it to his family with letters. A photo of Fork wrapped the edge of James’s broomstick is labeled “Baby’s First Flight!” and he sends a letter like “Fork was sooooo nervous about flying but James was able to convince him to give it a try. Lookit that smile! Fork says hi and to go fuck yourselves. Lots of love, the Potter Family” 

(Sirius also keeps these pictures and James puts them in an album.) 

I think with Fork’s help they’d find the Chamber of Secrets and, hello, ULTIMATE MARAUDER PLANNING LOCATION. They probably end up killing the basilisk bc it’s murderous and all, but they do it by borrowing a flock of Hagrid’s chickens and just letting them loose down there for a couple days. (The subsequent wrangling of the chickens was easily one of the hardest things they’ve ever done because those little things were fast) Of course then they had to deal with a giant carcass, and they felt a little weird doing anything to it because of Fork, but he insisted it was alright. 

Fork joined them on full moons, all wrapped around Prongs’s antlers, or on his more adventurous days, Moony or Padfoot’s neck. Wormtail had been a little worried at first, but Fork just pat him on the head with his tail and moved on. 

After that, Fork and Wormtail made the best scouting pair despite the fact that they couldn’t really communicate. A few conversations with James as translator helped them figure out a few signals though, leading to such views as Wormy riding Fork back from locations and Sirius certainly does not have a picture of it in the album, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, Peter.

There may or may not have been an incident (or three) involving dragons because they wanted to see if James could communicate with them as well. The results were inconclusive because while the dragons almost certainly understood him, they never said anything back before the Marauders got chased away. 

Fork shows up in the Great Hall one day in the middle of breakfast, and James picks him up ever so casually and asks how his day’s going. (The whole event was orchestrated, but it was Fork’s idea, so blame him it you’ve got a problem)

Fork becomes a sort of in-your-FACE-Slytherin mascot for Gryffindor after that. Marlene and Lily knit him a little Gryffindor scarf and sleeve for when it got cold, and when they all graduated, Fork was in the picture with his scarf and a little graduation cap. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 25; Finding my soulmate

*Author’s note*

Here we go yet again, I’ll post up every chapter I got and finish this for you guys in thanks for being soooo patient with me after being put on a cliffhanger for sooooo long. So for this part just be prepared for some angst, Bucky fluff, and that’s about it :) Enjoy my lovelies and for anyone getting ready for finals (like me plus finishing two papers I wish you luck).

_____________________________________________________

I was in the training grounds pushing myself to the limit.  I was punching, slicing and tearing apart my targets with both brute strength and my Mystic Arts.  

I panted before I suddenly let out a wolf snarl and leaped at one of the dummies in wolf form and literally ripped it to shreds with my fangs before panting angrily.

“You’re gonna turn evil again if you keep fighting like that” a Sokovian voice said behind me.  I lowered my ears and sat down and said.

‘I’m not in the mood Pietro!’

“Of course, you’re not in zhe mood. You’re never in zhe mood. But if you keep it all bottled up inside you will hurt someone you love, no?” I felt my claws sink into the ground and I finally said.

‘It’s been three months since that day. I should’ve hated him, he used me. He lied to me about why he was here, he made me become Bad Wolf again and yet—I……I don’t hate him. Why don’t I hate him Big Grey?’ I cried out as I turned to him with sad wolf eyes glistening with tears.  Pietro came up to me and knelt down in front of my and cupped my face with his hand.

“Because you love him. You still do, even though he betrayed your trust, he made things right in the end by saving you by bringing Bucky to you to free you from Connor’s spell. And that night when he sacrificed himself, he did it for you. He wanted to die a hero in your eyes and prove to you that his love for you was true”. I let out a sad whimper when I felt Pietro wrap his arms around me.

Now that I’m getting more control over my Mystic Arts, I can now feel Pietro’s touch almost as if he were here standing beside me, holding me in his arms.

‘Why does it hurt so much?!’ I sobbed out.  Pietro held me tighter and allowed me to whimper and cry into his arms.

*3rd Person POV*

T’Challa was sitting on his throne looking over some political papers of the alliance with Wakanda and America when Morowa came in and she said.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Reviewing the alliance agreement between America and Wakanda, it would seem they’ve finally come to terms with the advance technology we have and are willing to look past on the fact we’ve kept it hidden from the world for so long”.

“That’s not what you’re doing at all” Morowa stated bluntly.  T’Challa looked at her and she continued, “That maybe what you’re doing physically, but your mind is elsewhere, am I right?” T’Challa softly scoffed out a chuckle and said. 

“The Jaguar is always keener than the Black Panther it would seem”.  Morowa grinned for a moment before walking up beside T’Challa and he continued, “I have taken notice of how (y/n) has been since…..”

“I know”. Morowa stated. “Her first real true love ends up betraying her, but then at the last moment he rises up only to die in front of her. God I never wanted her to go through that type of heartache that I went through for Hanzo”.

“Do you think she’ll ever be okay? From what Barnes has told me, our little Raksha has lost so much in her entire life, I fear that this loss will be the final one to push her over the edge”.  Morowa placed her hand on her adoptive brother’s shoulder and gave it an assuring squeeze before saying.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. All we can do now is not be sympathetic towards her, just let her know that we are here for her and give her a shoulder to cry on if she needs one”.  It was at that moment both their watches rang up.  They held out their wrists and the image soon turned into Nakia.

“My love, my sister. You both need to come downtown quickly”.

“What is it Nakia?” asked Morowa.

“Just hurry up and get over here, you both are not going to believe this”. And with that Nakia signed out.  The two cat warriors looked at each other before heading outside to the car and drove downtown. 

In a crowded part of the kingdom, T’Challa and Morowa finally arrived and came up to an old willow tree that still grew on the street and saw a crowd of Wakandans surrounding all sides of the tree talking in hushed tones.  They soon spotted Nakia and T’Challa asked.

“What is the big emergency that you called us for Nakia?”

“Look inside the willow tree and tell me….does he look familiar to you?” Both Morowa and T’Challa looked at each other confused until they walked up the rocky surface a few feet away from the tree and looked inside and they both gasped in horror. 

Inside resting within the tree was a wolf.  Not just any wolf, but a giant pure black wolf. Scars and burns covered his body and if you didn’t catch the slight movements of him breathing, one would assume he was dead.

“It cannot be” muttered T’Challa.

“That’s—that’s impossible”. Whispered Morowa in shock as she covered her mouth.  They stepped aside and took notice of a few dogcatchers with their nets and collars ready. “You two, pull it out slowly”. Morowa stated.  The men looked towards their King and he nodded telling them to do as she said.

The dogcatchers slowly walked up and one of them reached out to grab the wolf by its leg when suddenly all hell broke loose.

The wolf suddenly shot up like a bullet and instantly killed one of the dogcatchers with a quick bite to the net.  The other one fired its taser which just barely missed the wolf as it turned around and took a leap at the dogcatcher and clamped its jaws around its neck.

The people watching this all screamed and ran in horror as the wolf held the dogcatcher like a dead fish in its mouth. A loud, horrifying sound of bones snapping in two echoed through the air and the wolf bared its bloody fangs as blood dripped from its fangs and mouth.

T’Challa and Morowa stood in front of the wolf taking its attention when T’Challa said.

“Hello Rauri Williams”.  Rauri snarled viciously then leapt towards them.  They jumped out of the way and soon took off running with Rauri trailing behind them. 

The two Wakandans raced through the city shouting to everyone to take cover and get out of the way and as soon as they saw the giant wolf coming into view, they all scream and ran for cover.  They soon came to a dark alleyway and soon T’Challa came up with a plan. 

“Time for a cat ambush” T’Challa stated then the two of them leapt high up and disappeared into the shadows.  Rauri soon came into the alleyway and snarled lowly and sniffed the air for a scent of either T’Challa or Morowa.

He huffed and sniffed the ground and air as he paced around the alley but couldn’t come up with anything.  As the seconds ticked by he was getting more and more antsy. Suddenly coming down from him was T’Challa in full Black Panther uniform, he landed on Rauri’s back and tried to wrangle like W’Kabi does with his rhinos.

But Rauri put up a good fight as he shook violently and slammed himself up against the concrete buildings.  Rauri then leaped up into the air and physically rolled over knocking T’Challa off of him but then just before he could strike, a flying disk cut across Rauri’s back making him howl in pain.

Catching the sonic disk was none other than Nakia. Rauri turned his attention to her and he charged right at her snarling and baring his fangs.  Nakia waited and stood her ground until the right moment when she lept up and used her sonic disks to once again cut Rauri’s back which made him howl again in agony. 

As Nakia landed, she suddenly felt jaws clamp onto her leg and drag her away. She let out frightened screams as she tried to pull herself away but she was then pinned to the ground.  She could feel Rauri’s hot breath over her head and she thought right then and there she was going to die.

That was until a mystical whip wrapped around Rauri and pulled him upwards. T’Challa raced up to his love and took her in his arms to see Morowa now in full Jaguar warrior uniform come down bringing Rauri with her slamming him into the ground. She then raced up and pinned him down and like she did to (y/n) when she first met her as Bad Wolf, she used her nerve attack on Rauri to paralyze him and she also hit a pressure point to make him fall asleep. 

With Rauri settled down, T’Challa and Morowa allowed their suits to shrink back to their necklaces and the three Wakandans looked down at Rauri.

“How is he alive after all this time?” asked Nakia.

“He shouldn’t be, it would seem there are still answers Rauri hasn’t given us” stated T’Challa.

“So what do we do? We can’t leave a giant mad wolf in the city, Word will get out and soon we could lose the faith and trust of the world council”. Morowa said as she looked to her brother.   T’Challa sighed heavily then he said.

“We’ll take him to the sanctuary, but only until such time has passed do we mention this to (y/n). She’s still dealing with her grief and who knows what will happen should she suddenly find out that her mate is alive”.

“I will tell her” stated Morowa.  Both the King and his girlfriend looked at Morowa and she said to them, “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one, if anyone is to tell her when the time is right, it should be me. (Y/n) is my daughter, and she deserves to hear it from me alone”.

“Understood Morowa, now let’s move him quickly before anyone else comes by here” stated Nakia and soon the three of them worked together to put Rauri’s wolf body in the truck and soon the three of them left the city and headed back to the sanctuary. 

*1st Person POV*

After my mental breakdown in the training grounds, Bucky had found me and immediately proceeded to go to what he called Code: Wolf Snuggles (why he chose that name I have no idea) but what that code meant was that he took me into my room, wrapped me up in a burrito blanket and turned on Netflix and the two of us sat on my bed and binged watched FRIENDS till I would smile.

It was now nightfall and Bucky and I were still in the middle of our binge watching as we were now on the episode “The one where no one is ready” and it was that episode that made me laugh the most.

“Now there’s that laugh I’ve been waiting to hear” Bucky said.

“Yeah, thanks Bucky-bear. You know exactly what to do to make me feel better”.

“What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t? Plus when I found you out in the training grounds, it broke my heart to see you that broken down”. I sighed solemnly and said.

“I’m sorry”.

“You have nothing to apologize for Wolfie, okay?” He said as he cupped my face in his hands and stared deeply into my eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine. 

We took in each other’s strength as Bucky kept his forehead against mine when suddenly we both heard a knock at my door and we both turned to see my mother Morowa standing there.

“Sorry for breaking the mood, Bucky may I have a moment alone with my daughter, please”. Bucky nodded then he kissed my head one last time before leaving my room and as soon as he left, Morowa shut my door and came up beside me.  “How have you been sweetie?”

“Well besides the mental breakdown I had earlier this morning and the intense crying plus the nightmares of seeing that plane explode, I’ve been better. Thankfully Bucky started FRIENDS as soon as he found me, watching this show never fails to put a smile on my face”.

“I’m glad he’s been helping you out”.

“I wouldn’t know what to do without him, he’s my anchor and he’s the closest thing to my old life as an Avengers that I’ll ever have”. She then took my hand in hers and paused the episode and said.

“(Y/n). There’s something you need to know”. From the way she spoke those words, it sent a chill up my spine.  Plus her eyes were dead locked onto mine almost as if she were trying to confess a deep dark secret that could potentially destroy the world.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” She took a deep breath in through her nose and said as she gripped my hand a little tighter.

“Earlier today, Nakia called me and T’Challa downtown to look at something that some of the townspeople had found. When we got there and looked to see what it was we—” she stopped mid-sentence and I said to her. 

“Mother?”

“(Y/n) we found Rauri”.

“Dead?” I asked.  She shook her head slowly and it was that moment that my blood ran cold and my heart sunk into my stomach.

“We found him alive, and he’s here in the sanctuary”. My eyes widened and my throat clogged up as I could barely breathe. “(Y/n) I know what you must be thinking but you of all people know when I’m lying so look me in the eyes and tell me if I’m lying or not before you say anything”. I looked into her eyes and I shook my head telling her that she wasn’t lying.

“But it’s—this…..this is insane. How did he survive? The jet exploded like Sokovia it’s not like he was frozen for over 70 years in the ocean, it exploded like a stick of TNT. How the hell can a person survive being blown up!?” I stated as I paced around the room rubbing my face and pulling at my hair harshly almost ready to have a panic attack.

“We don’t know” she said solemnly.  “When we found him, he didn’t recognize any of us, he didn’t even turn back into his human state. He almost killed Nakia if it wasn’t for me. I had to use my nerve attack on him like I did with you when we first met and I put him into a deep sleep by attacking one of his pressure points”.

“This is crazy. This—this-this is….this is insane! Just when I think I could move on he suddenly comes back into my life! What the hell did I do to deserve this!?”

“(Y/n), (y/n) (y/n) (y/n)! Listen to me, okay listen to the words coming out of my mouth” my mom said as she now stood in front of me and gripped me by my arms making me shut up and stare up into her eyes. 

 She cupped my face and continued. 

“You’re the only one here who knows Rauri, his scent, his scars, you know it all. Now the wolf we have in that cell we once put you in could be him, it may not be him. But I’m giving you the choice; you can either give us a positive ID on him to see whether it is Rauri and if it is you can choose whether you want us to find a way to fix him, or to have him be killed. If it’s not Rauri, you can make the final call. Just know the choice is yours, and you don’t have to do this right now. You can let all of this sink in then come and find me or T’Challa and give us your answer. Like I said, it’s up to you”. She kissed my forehead motherly and stroked some strands of hair out of my face before holding me in her arms.  

Silence rang throughout my room as I stood still in my mother’s arms. 

“I want to see him”. I finally said after about ten minutes of silence.

“Are you sure?”

“Mom please I—if I don’t do this now I’ll end up changing my mind and my heart is already conflicted enough as it is! Let me see him!” I stared up at her with hard eyes filled with tears.

“Alright then”. 

I now stood in the same prison cell I found myself in when I was under Connor’s control and standing before the cell was Bucky, T’Challa, Shuri, Nakia and Okoye.

“Have you decided?” asked Okoye.

“Yes, show him to me”. I said trying to be strong.

“Very well, take your time” Okoye said to me assuringly as she stood up before me and placed a hand on my shoulder then she turned to Shuri who nodded and at the control panel, she pushed a couple of controls and soon the lights inside the cell turned on. 

I slowly walked up to the glass cell and touched the glass and took a good long look at this wolf.  His fur was a black as night and scarred up and singed in some certain areas, but it was when I looked at his face and saw a very familiar scar on the left side of his face in the same spot where Rauri had his scar.

I immediately turned away placing my hands over my stomach trying not to puke all over the floor and a single tear fell down by face.

“Is it him (y/n)?” asked Shuri.  Not trusting my voice, I nodded and turned back towards him.

Rauri was alive. 

“It’s your call (y/n) what do you want to do?” asked T’Challa.  I looked back towards Rauri then I looked at my mother and said to her.

“Teach me how to use that memory-revival spell you used on Bucky and Hanzo”.

“But (y/n)…..”

“Damnit Morowa you saw what I did to Connor and you know I’ve improved a hell of a lot since you first taught me! Now I deserve answers and only he can give them to me and I don’t want to talk to a mindless wolf! Teach me the spell now!” I snapped angrily as my eyes phased to wolf gold as I glared at her.  

Morowa looked at me solemnly before telling Shuri and Okoye.

“Bring him to the lab, get him strapped up, we won’t be long”.  Morowa then took me aside into another room and proceeded to teach me how to do the spell. 

A half hour later, Okoye, Shuri, Nakia, Bucky and T’Challa all stood around Rauri who was strapped down on a metal table and Morowa came up to Rauri and said to me.

“Are you ready?” I nodded then she pecked out Rauri’s pressure points which woke up him and he immediately began thrashing around snarling and snapping his jaws.  “Hold him down!” My mother proclaimed out.

Even with the straps, Rauri proved that he was still stronger so it had to take every one of them to hold Rauri down especially his head which Bucky took care of as I came around him and proceeded to do the chant and wave my hands in the motions Morowa taught me before placing each of my hands at his temples making Rauri howl in agony.

“Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth”. As I kept chanting this spell repeatedly, I used my powers to pour all the memories of both Rauri and myself into his mind, I showed him visuals from the stories he’s told me of his childhood, of Connor, everything he had ever told me.

Sweat dripped from my face as my energy was literally being drained but I kept crying out the chant with more passion trying to bring Rauri back from the shadows.  Everyone looked at me worriedly but I kept at the spell until I looked down at Rauri and saw that his eyes were slowly becoming more human like and soon I broke the connection and Rauri’s body slowly changed from wolf back to his human state.

He now lay still on the table and I was almost about to collapse to the floor if it hadn’t been for Bucky-bear catching me in time.  I felt Bucky pick me up in his arms and my vision grew blurry and I soon passed out from exhaustion.

*3rd Person POV*

Bucky decided to take (y/n) back to her room and rest while the rest of the Wakandans waited for Rauri to wake up.  

Just a few moments after Bucky left, Rauri opened his eyes and found himself in a familiar situation.

“What happened?”

“That is something you can explain to us Rauri Williams, but right now you need rest, both of you” T’Challa stated.

“Both of us? Wha-what do you—”?

“My daughter saved your mind from the shadows, but in doing so she wasted a lot of energy to bring you out. She could’ve died trying to save you. Be thankful for her that she still had some feelings for you even after you betrayed her”.

“Enough Morowa, everyone out and let us leave Mr. Williams to rest”.  With that the Wakandans left Rauri to rest and as he fell into the darkness of sleep once more, he kept muttering out (y/n)’s name. 

And almost as if connected by force, as Bucky was dabbing (y/n)’s forehead with a wet cloth, Rauri’s name kept coming out from her lips.

[bloomsoftly]

of blades & silk, chapter 1

this is the first chapter of a new wintershock fic that @paranoidwino and I are making together–this first chapter was written as a surprise to her for her birthday.

Since it’s technically 30 July in Italy, I’m posting it now. ;) I hope you like it, Wino! you deserve all the happy things on this day and every other day. ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

(sooooo many thanks to @ragwitch for reading this over and assuaging my nerves. you’re the greatest!)

Prologue: Collateral Damage 

St. Petersburg, Russia, 1998

As she raced through the streets of the city, Darcy cursed herself at least a million times. She had one rule, and she broke it. Not on purpose, but that didn’t matter when here she was anyway, racing to undo the damage she’d unwittingly wrought.

 She’d created the rule for herself years ago, when she’d first pulled herself from the streets and began teaching herself how to use poisons. Never stick around after finishing a deal. The best way to avoid hearing about the nefarious things people did with her merchandise was to skip out before they started discussing the details. It wasn’t a perfect system for dealing with her conscience, of course, but it was enough that she could wrangle it into submission. Most of the time, anyway. Some nights, she still had nightmares. But all in all, it had worked fairly well for the better part of a decade.

Which was why she was furious that these stupid assholes hadn’t waited until she was gone to start discussing their little plan. If they had, she wouldn’t have had any idea that they planned to assassinate Olga Lebedeva, one of the only people willing to stand up for human rights in this God forsaken country. And one of the only politically-minded figures Darcy respected.

If they had waited, she would have heard about the murder on the news, and weeks later when they realized it was poison—if they ever did—she would’ve been able to convince herself that it wasn’t her poison, wasn’t her fault. Instead, here she was, sprinting through the city. Racing against time to stop an assassination attempt she had helped come to fruition in the first place.

At least she knew how to get around the city without being seen. Now all she had to do was get into the Belmond Grand Hotel without being seen, slip Lebedeva the antidote, and get out unnoticed. If she did it right, the Petrovs would never even know that she’d interfered. Slightly worried, she patted down her pockets, searching for the little vial of antidote she always kept with her during a deal. It was there, in the inside left pocket of her jacket, and she breathed a sigh of relief. If nothing else, she could trust in her paranoia to save her skin. Ever since—was it seven years ago? Eight?—the Vasiliev family had tried to get out of paying her, using the same poison she’d supplied them with. She’d been young and stupid. Luckily for Olga Lebedeva, she learned from her mistakes.

And finally she was in the heart of St. Petersburg, a place she usually avoided for the bright lights and wealthy people. Back in her pickpocketing days, the Nevsky Prospekt would’ve been a gold mine, but these days she tried to blend in with the shadows.

Which would not be possible here, she realized, looking up at the brightly-lit facade of the building and through the doors to the gleaming marble lobby. Nice job, Darcy. Maybe you should’ve thought of a plan before you rode in on your white horse. You have the antidote, but how are you planning on getting it to the woman?

Realizing that she was going to start drawing serious attention if she stood outside the hotel for much longer, staring but not making any move to come in, she strode purposefully for the main entrance. As she entered the lobby, she veered toward the right. She knew better than to head for the lobby desk; it’s not like they were going to simply hand over Lebedeva’s reservation information and room number.

But if the woman could afford this hotel—and damn, if Darcy wasn’t jealous—surely she could afford security. And security in Russia meant lazy men who liked to drink on the job. With that in mind, she headed for the lobby bar.

Sure enough, there were two big, burly Russian security types at a table near the bar. She slowed her pace as she passed their table, enough to hear them complaining about their boss. It was all ‘this woman’ or ‘can you believe the nerve of her,’ and she figured she was in the right place. She was almost offended on Lebedeva’s behalf; in addition to the incessant complaints, these two didn’t look even remotely concerned with their boss’ safety. They were concerned with the legs and bust on every woman in the room, though, which could work in her favor.

Adding an extra sway to her hips, she sauntered past them. Their conversation stuttered to a halt as she passed, and she stifled a grin of satisfaction. Men, she thought derisively. They were so easy. And true to form, she wasn’t even at the bar long enough to signal the bartender for a drink. He’d just looked in her direction long enough to nod and head her way when suddenly the two men were on either side of her. They leaned in close, pinning her in, and an overwhelming stench of sweat and cheap cologne hit her nostrils.

The bartender took one look at the three of them and turned away, wiping down an imaginary spot on the bar. Darcy barely refrained from wrinkling her nose in disgust—at the terrible odor and the cowardly bartender, both. Instead, she offered a mysterious smile and purred, “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

One of them trailed meaty fingers down the outside of her arm, and she suppressed a flinch. “See, we were thinking that we could help you,” the one on her right said. “No beautiful woman should have to drink alone.” The other man said nothing, but waggled his eyebrows on cue. She absently wondered how often they did this to poor women in bars, and whether it actually worked very often. Luckily for them (or unluckily, depending on the point of view), it would tonight.

“What are you drinking?” she pouted, playing hard to get. Let them think she was reluctant and needed to be won over, and they’d be less likely to remember her later.

“Green Mark,” the chatty one replied with a leer. She was impressed in spite of herself, let it filter through her expression. He saw it, and the leer became a cocky smirk. “We know how to drink, baby. And we’re not afraid to pay. Good things in life tend to be expensive.” He played with a blonde strand of hair that fell over her shoulder while the other bonehead nodded along seriously.

Oh. Okay, well. She could still work with this. It might be easier this way, actually. She leaned into the talkative one, stroking a hand over his chest. “In that case, lead the way,” she purred, looking up at him through dark eyelashes.

His face flushed—too easy—and he turned, leading her to their table. Only when they had both turned away did Darcy slip the room key she’d stolen from his jacket into the neckline of her dress. She followed them to their table and took the shot of vodka they offered her, relishing the burn as it slid down her throat. After two decades in this country, it still wasn’t her favorite liquor—tonight, though, she appreciated the liquid courage. She was going to need it.

Reaching for a piece of bread to soak up the alcohol that was currently burning a hole in her intestines, Darcy tuned out their obnoxious voices. They were clearly trying to impress her, each getting louder as they tried to drown the other man out. When the second guy offered her another shot, she took it without hesitation. As she slammed the shot glass back on the table she stood up, pretending to wobble slightly. “Ooh,” she giggled, leaning against the table for effect. “That’s the good stuff.”

They offered identical smirks, which turned into a frown when she added, “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

Before she could move, one of the man surged forward to clasp a hard hand around her wrist. “I’ll come with you,” he said with an angry sneer.

A frisson of fear slithered through her gut, replacing the vodka, but Darcy didn’t pull away. She knew better than that. “Don’t be silly,” she slurred, hoping it sounded more like tipsiness than paralyzing fear. “I’ll be right back.”

“Anton,” the second man hissed, “let her go. Lebedeva—” he broke himself off with a look in her direction, and the other man seemed to understand.

With an angry huff, he released her. She fought to stand steady and meet his eyes. “You come right back,” he growled. “Do you understand?”

She nodded mutely, grateful that the table hid her shaky knees. He looked away, and she took it as her cue to go. Swaying slightly, her trembling legs giving credence to her tipsy disguise, she headed for the lobby.

When she hit the main entrance, Darcy headed for the restroom. Slipping into a stall, she allowed herself one shaky breath before slipping the key out of her bra. The number 342 was engraved on the back side, and she took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then exited the stall. She headed straight for the elevator from the restroom, not daring to look toward the bar entrance.

She made it without incident, and pressed the button to close the elevator door before anyone else could join her. With every second that the elevator ascended, she second-guessed her decision. Was it worth it, if she got caught? If the mafia ever found out it was her, she was dead for sure. And perhaps Lebedeva wasn’t much of a feminist icon anyway, a snide voice inside her whispered, if she hired men like the ones downstairs. Even the memory of them made her furious, burning away the last of her fear.

She’d convinced herself to stop, hit the button for the ground floor, and leave this damn hotel forever—when the elevator dinged. The doors slid open noisily, bringing the hallway into view. It was empty, and a pit opened up in her stomach. The hallway wasn’t supposed to be empty. She checked the floor number just in case, but there was no mistake. This was Lebedeva’s floor.

This was the woman’s floor, and there were no security personnel in sight. 

(read more link here)

She was too late. But what was the point of using poison, if they were going to murder the activist’s security guards anyway? Something wasn’t right.

But that was Olga Lebedeva’s room, four doors down, and Darcy hadn’t come all this way to let the woman die. The key slid into the lock, turning easily, and she cautiously stepped into the room. Only to abandon caution as she caught sight of the woman sprawled across the floor, clutching at her throat and gasping for air.

A glass of wine was spilled across the carpet several feet away, and Darcy realized she didn’t have much time. She raced to the woman’s side and dropped, uncaring of the wine that stained her knees. With a rough hand, she lifted the woman’s head off the floor. Reaching for the antidote with the other, she uncorked the little vial with her mouth. “Hey,” she hissed, trying to get the woman to focus. “I need you to open your mouth.”

The woman’s eyes lolled back in her head, and she didn’t respond. Cursing viciously, she readjusted them so that the woman’s head was propped up on Darcy’s knees, freeing her hands. She pried open the woman’s mouth, poured the antidote in, and then held her jaw closed as Lebedeva sputtered and choked. She waited as the woman swallowed and fell silent, head listing to one side.

Darcy waited in silence; she didn’t know if she’d made it on time, didn’t know if the woman had swallowed enough of the antidote to do any good. She just sat there with the woman’s head in her lap, waiting for her to either live or die. She wasn’t religious, had no God to pray to, so she just closed her eyes and breathed.

A gasp cut through the quiet, and the woman surged upward, clutching at Darcy’s shoulders. She sobbed into her chest uncontrollably, forcing Darcy’s arms to come up and support her. She rocked them back and forth, stroking the woman’s wine-soaked hair, and muttered soothing nonsense in her ear. “There, there,” she said, having no idea what to say to a distraught woman who’d been dying several minutes before, “You’re alright. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

As if the words had reminded her of something terrible, the woman shook her head frantically. “Not safe,” she muttered into Darcy’s shoulder. “Security’s gone.”

“Yeah, I saw that. What happened?” Darcy asked, but the woman was nonsensical again. She looked like she was going to be sick, actually, and Darcy moved out of the way just in time. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she lightly rubbed the woman’s back. That’s what she was supposed to do when someone was ill, right? Honestly, she had no idea. She was so distracted by the smell of the vomit that it took her a second to recognize the sounds of angry shouting in the hallway.

The other woman paused in the middle of wiping her mouth on her arm and looked up at Darcy fearfully. So, the voices were not her missing security guards, then. Without hesitating, Darcy yanked the woman to her feet and strode toward the bedroom. She had no weapons, no way to protect them, and the only thing they could do was hide. There wasn’t time to be gentle, and maybe another time she would’ve felt bad about the hard grip she kept on a woman who had so recently been violently ill. But right now they needed to get out of sight.

Lebedeva seemed to understand that, too, and she didn’t make a word of protest. Sardonically, Darcy wondered whether the woman would still trust her if she knew Darcy was the one who made the poison that almost killed her. The voices were getting closer, though, and there was no time to think like that. Making a quick assessment of the bedroom, Darcy made a decision and shoved the other woman to her knees, pointing at the bed silently. The closet was empty, and would be one of the first places the intruders looked. Same for the bathroom. Dropping to her knees, she shimmied under the bed.

Reaching over, she clapped a hand over the woman’s mouth, just in time for the door to the hallway to bang open. Her hand muffled Lebedeva’s involuntary squeak. Darcy herself made no sound; she’d learned a long time ago how to hide her terror and stay absolutely still and silent.

The thunk of multiple pairs of boots sounded in the other room. “She was here,” a man snarled. “The bitch was here.”

“Did she leave?” someone else asked. Footsteps hurried quickly away, back toward the hallway.

“Search the bedroom,” the first man ordered. “Our sources say she was going to be poisoned. She can’t have gotten far.” Several pairs of booted feet passed by the bed, and Darcy clamped her fingers tighter over the other woman’s mouth. Neither of them moved an inch, and she held her breath.

“That fucking asshole,” one of them said. “Always ordering us around.”

“Shut up,” another hissed. “He’ll kill you for that.”

The third one shut them both up. “You, check the closet. You, with me. The bathroom.”

They moved away, and the two women could do nothing but wait. There’s no way they’d be able to sneak out without being seen.

Holding her breath was making her dizzy and lightheaded, so Darcy released it as quietly as possible. Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly she was afraid they might somehow hear it. It felt like forever before one of them called out, “She’s not in here, boss!”

The other two echoed him, but their boss didn’t answer. There was a light thump from the sitting room, like a body hitting the floor. The three came racing past the bed, headed toward the door to the living area. A fourth set of boots—black combat boots, well-worn, and utterly silent footsteps—appeared in the doorway. Three suppressed gunshots sounded, loud in the otherwise-silent room, and their bodies fell immediately. Darcy looked away from their empty eyes, toward Lebedeva, who sobbed into her hand.

She tightened her fingers’ grip on the other woman’s face, digging in hard enough to draw blood, but it was too late. She barely had enough time to meet the other woman’s terrified gaze before Darcy was being ripped away, pulled out from under the bed by her hair. A gun was pressed into her cheek before her eyes could even focus. She looked past the barrel—it was abnormally long, with the suppressor attached to the end—into the eyes of her murderer.

Darcy froze, staring into those empty eyes. Panic made her still, and she couldn’t even plead for her life. Not that it would do any good, anyway; she knew who he was. Привидение. The Red Room’s prized possession, their leashed killer. She stared up at him, past the dirty brown hair and the straight nose to the empty eyes. Her life in Russia had never been easy, and this was not the first time she’d stared death in the face.

Even if she couldn’t fight back, she wouldn’t bow down either. His eyes bored into hers for long moments, and she vaguely wondered if he was playing some kind of game, taunting her. But then something flickered behind his eyes, something like humanity, and he glanced away. The barrel of the gun was still hard against her cheek, bruising the skin there. But his gaze fixated on her wine-stained hands, palms up in supplication next to her head. His gaze tracked her body slowly, as if looking for weapons.

He found none, clearly, and slowly his eyes came back to her face. “Civilian,” he grunted in Russian, with a strange accent. It reminded her of home, of the way she’d spoken the language in her early years.

Not quite, she thought, but wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud.

“Not the target,” he grunted again, glaring at her. Daring her to contradict him. Like she would ever do that.

Finally, he removed the barrel from her face and stood. Turning to head out the door, he paused. Without looking at her, he muttered, “Take the southeast stairwell. It’s clear of guards.” And then he was gone.

She lay there frozen for a solid minute after he’d left, trying to coax her frozen muscles to move. Darcy couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but strain to hear his footsteps, certain he’d change his mind and come back to kill her. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, drowning out all other sound.

A sudden movement out of the corner of her eye made her flinch. It was Lebedeva, crawling toward her.

“We need to go,” the other woman whispered. The lingering terror on her face made it clear that she knew who the man was, too. They needed to get out of there, now. The urgency of her thoughts finally forced her body into action, and Darcy rolled to her feet. Grabbing the other woman’s hand, she headed for the stairwell.

“Are you crazy?!” the woman hissed, echoing Darcy’s thoughts and pulling them to a stop. “You’re going to follow his advice?”

“He’s the only one I can say for certain has no intention of killing me,” she pointed out, dragging Lebedeva toward the stairwell door. If only she could convince her voice not to shake, or her knees not to tremble. The other woman seemed to understand that they had no choice, and didn’t try to stop her again.

The stairwell was empty, just as he had said. Why would he help? she wondered, before cutting off that train of thought. It would do her no good to think about it now.

And then they were in an alley behind the hotel, and then they were running. Both were silent for long minutes, united in unspoken agreement to get as far away from danger as possible before they stopped. And then Lebedeva could go no farther, and she pulled them to a stop. Looking around, Darcy realized she had no idea where they were. They’d run in a blind panic, and she felt a stab of shame surge through her gut. It wasn’t smart, what she’d done; there was nothing intelligent about anything she’d done that evening.

The other woman spoke, tearing her away from her self-flagellating thoughts. “I can never repay you,” she said, holding onto Darcy’s arm.

She ripped it away, recoiling. “Don’t say that,” she spat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know you saved my life—” the other woman said, reaching for her again.

“I made the poison that almost killed you!” Darcy hissed. The words lingered in the air between them, turning it all to acid. A different kind of shame burned in her gut, and she had to fight to keep the other woman’s gaze.

“Oh,” was all she said. Lebedeva took a step back, then stopped. A calculating look swept over her face. “But you came to save me.”

There was no point in denying it. “I did,” she said, suddenly weary. “But that doesn’t make me a good person.” She took several steps backward; surely the other woman could find her own way home now. “I almost killed you, then I saved you. We’re square.”

Lebedeva didn’t look away as she retreated backward. Her eyes were piercing in a keen way, like she saw all the things Darcy didn’t want her to see. Covering up her discomfort, Darcy called, “And hire better fucking security. The ones you’ve got are pigs. Or dead,” she added on an afterthought.

She turned, ready to disappear into the shadows. A soft chuckle sounded behind her, and Lebedeva promised, “I will.”

There was nothing else to say, and Darcy fled. Her knees and hands were covered in wine, her dress had a splatter of vomit along the hem, and she was pretty sure she’d been lying in some man’s blood. Oh, and her cheek was going to be the size of a baseball tomorrow.

She really needed to get out of this line of work.

to be continued...

[eddiesmunsonn]

Calm Before the Storm Ch 12

Summary: Based around 812 when Ty and Amy go down to Montana for the clinic. A take on what could have been if they had not turned back and gone home.

Rated: T

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

The clinic was almost over and everyone had thoroughly enjoyed doing the join-ups. The lads had all been engaging well in the clinic and all seemed to be going well. The lads were engaging in a last chance Q&A with Amy so she could answer any more of their questions before she left.

"So, do you think that my horse will start listening to me properly now?" Paul asked.

"Well… yes but you can't take the trust you have for granted. It works both ways, you need to ensure you are calm and not allow yourself to keep things bottled up because your horse will sense your anxieties and troubles, so you can't basically just do a join up today and it all be okay every time. There will be some days that it's not going to go well. But if there ever are any days like that, just think to yourself 'what am I doing differently' because 9 times out of 10, it's the rider, not the horse that is having difficulties," Amy explained.

"Thanks, that makes a lot of sense," Paul replied.

"Any more questions for Amy?" Dave asked the group, and everyone shook their head, "Alright then, that's us done then. Thank you, Amy, for everything you have done. Also to you, Ty – thank you for coming down to help out with everything."

"Yeah, it really has been great. Right boys, its back to work after lunch, so you need to go and put your horses away and make your way over to the dining hall," Dave instructed them.

The lads all said their goodbyes and took their horses back to the back field and Ant took Spartan back to the barn.

"You two are more than welcome to stay for some lunch if you want?" Marge asked, as her, Dave, Amy and Ty walked back over to the office.

"Thank you for the offer, but we have said we would go to the café near our hotel," Amy replied, "Are you sure it's okay to leave the horses over here one more night? I know it's last minute and all?"

"Yeah, it's fine! They don't cause any bother. What time do you think you'll be round tomorrow to pick them up?" Marge asked.

"Erm, we have to be out the place around 11, so it will probably be around 11:30, if that's okay?" Amy replied.

"Yeah that's fine, we will all be here and around so if we aren't in the office, we will probably be in the shop or the barn," Dave replied, opening the door to the office for everyone to walk in.

Everyone sat down and Marge said, "Wow, I am so glad we heard about you. You have managed to help us so much! I can't believe you managed to get through to Ant. You, Ty, managed to get the Ant that me and Dave knew was inside there to come out of his shell. I know we still have a long way to go – but I think we are getting there."

"It's no problem, I just remember being in the same kind of place that he is in, so I kind of understand how he feels. I never really knew who I was or what I was going to do with my life until I got to heartland. Which was a place where I thought I was just going to go, do my time and leave. Kinda glad I didn't because god knows where I would end up. I just hope Ant manages to get through all this, he went through a lot but with the right kind of people behind him, like you two, I'm sure he will do well. He just needs to believe in himself," Ty replied, "I'll probably speak to him tomorrow before we leave properly, just to make sure he's okay – which I'm sure he is. Also, just to see if he has any questions or anything about everything."

"That's a lovely idea, thank you so much. I'm sure Ant will appreciate it. I know we both do, this is one of the reasons we opened this place to begin with, just to help people and I'm glad we are doing that," Dave replied, "so you said you would be here just after 11 tomorrow?"

"Yeah, if that's okay?" Amy replied.

"That's fine, we will all probably still be here anyway. Like I said before there will always be someone around here. I'll have the lads sort the horses out in the morning for you," Dave said.

"Alright, we shall see you tomorrow," Ty said standing up and shaking Marge and Dave's hands.

"Yep, see you both," Marge replied as Dave went and got the door.

Ty and Amy walked over to their truck and set off back to the town centre, where they were staying.

"So, for our lunch, I don't want much seeing as we are out again tonight. What do you suggest we do after lunch?" Ty asked as he pulled out of the entrance to the ranch.

"Yeah, I'm the same," Amy replied, "as for after our lunch, I think we could just explore the town and see what there is. Maybe go for a walk in the woodlands? I know we do that a lot when we are at the trailer but I really enjoy it."

Ty smiled, "Yeah, so do I. It's going to be a busy couple of months so we probably won't be able to get much time together like this until, well, after we're married!" He laughed, "wow that sounds so weird!"

"Oh, so the thought of being married to me is weird, eh?" Amy teased.

Ty laughed, "Oh come off it, you know what I meant. Just the fact that when we are married we will be able to just be ourselves, do what we want and stuff. Plus, we won't have to say goodbye to each other every night, we will just have to say good night, instead."

Amy turned to him and smiled, "Now that does sound exciting," she replied, "Thank you, again, for coming with me for this clinic."

"Amy it's no problem, I had to use up my holidays with Scott anyway before the end of the year, and I couldn't think of a better way to spend them. Me and you, on a road trip down to a clinic, alone," he laughed.

"I sense the 'alone' was stressed there, I would have thought you would have wanted my dad, or grandpa, to come down with us? I mean, they did offer plenty of times," She teased.

"Yeah, I'm sure that would have been ever so fun… you, in a room of your own and me sharing with jack. Or even worse, your dad. Yeah, erm no. I much prefer it this way!" He laughed, "besides if one of those two came down, we wouldn't have been able to wrangle an extra night here! We would have wanted to go back straight away rather than spend more time down here. Sooooo I think this way, is much better."

"Yeah, I prefer this way too," She replied as they pulled into the hotel car park.

When they parked up, they both got out and began walking down to the café, hand in hand.

Once inside the café, they both took a seat in a corner near the back and started reading the menus, "Hmm, there's so much to choose from," Amy observed, "I don't think I want anything too much, seeing as we are out tonight… so, I think I'll just have a cheese and onion toastie with a portion of chips. What are you going to have?"

"I'm going to have the BBQ chicken panini with a side of chips, like you say, we don't want to be eating too much between now and dinner. Do you want a chocolate milkshake, too?" He asked as he went to get up, "I'll go and order."

"Yes please," Amy replied.

"Okay; I'll be back in a minute," he said as he went over to the counter and waited to be served.

"Back again, I see? Was this morning's breakfast just too good?" The waitress asked.

"Yeah, something like that," Ty laughed, "We have decided to stay another night so you'll probably see us tomorrow morning before we set off back up to Hudson."

"Sounds good, right what can I get ya?" She asked. Ty gave her the order as she entered the items into the till, "Okay, that's $15.72."

Ty grabbed a 20 out of his wallet and handed it over, "Keep the change," he said.

"Thank you, I will be over with your drinks once I've served this man," she said as Ty walked back over to the table.

Ty and Amy sat and talked about anything and everything during their lunch, they really were enjoying the fact that they were having some much-needed time together after the few months that they spent apart.

Once they had finished their lunch, the waitress came over to clear the plates, "Do you have any plans for this afternoon?" She asked.

"No, nothing set in stone. We were just going to go for a walk round town and maybe in the woods," Ty replied.

"Well, there's this neat little market about a 10 minute drive from here, it has loads of little shops and stalls full of stuff. It's worth a look if You're interested. It's only open 2 days a week, today and Saturdays." She informed them.

"That sounds good, what do you think, Ty? We can get some stuff for Katie and Georgie? Oh, and Lou seeing as we have been messing her about all day," Amy laughed.

"Yeah, that does sound good, thanks for the information! We would have never found it otherwise," Ty said as they both got up.

"It's no problem, right, if I don't see you tomorrow, have a good drive back home," The waitress said.

Ty and Amy said their goodbyes and walked out to the truck and jumped in.

"Okay, so the market?" Ty asked.

"Yeah, it sounded pretty sweet, plus it's something for us to do, isn't it. I'm sure we can find some gifts for people… We should get Lou something because we have messed her around a lot this week," Amy laughed.

"Yeah," Ty laughed, "We really have. Right then, belt up and let's get going."

They both put their belts on, and Amy plugged her phone into the radio and put some music on.

Once they reached the market, they got out and looked around. It was such a lovely place, there were stalls full of food, which was Amy's favourite, there were tack stalls, jewellery stalls and toy stalls.

"Wow, this place is amazing," Amy said, taking a bite of her apple pie.

Ty laughed, "Yeah, it really is. I take it you're enjoying that pie then?" He asked as she took the last spoonful.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want a bite?" She asked, as she threw the paper plate in the bin.

"No, it's fine. Besides, it's a little late now," He joked, taking her hand, "So, who's present should we get now? We have a stuffed horse for Katie, a belt buckle for Georgie, a fridge magnet for Lisa – although it will probably just go on the fridge at the ranch, a new Swiss army knife for Jack which is identical to his old one that is falling apart, as to not cause too much "change", so we only really need something for Lou and your dad..." Ty sighed.

"Why my dad?" Amy asked.

"Well, he did lend us his truck for these couple of days… so it's only nice, really. Plus, I need to keep him in my good books! I do not want to turn out like Peter "the general" Morris!" He exclaimed.

Amy tried to hide her laugh, "Alright, alright. Well, why don't we get dad a new belt or a shirt from that stall over there?"

"You know your dad better than I do," Ty replied, "It's up to you what we get him though."

"Okay, let's just go with a shirt – you can never go wrong with one of those. Plus, these ones," She said, pointing to a selection of shirts, "Are on sale, 25% off… Who's the real winner here then?" she laughed.

"Obviously, us. Right let's hurry up here and get back to the hotel so we can start getting ready for tonight," Ty said.

The pair of them looked through the shirts and finally found one that they thought Tim'd like, so they quickly paid and made their way back to the car.

The ride home was peaceful, with just the radio for some background noise, Amy caught herself staring at Ty. She was so happy that they'd managed to put things from the past few months behind them and carry on as normal. This trip had helped them get back to their usual selves, she really couldn't imagine life without him.

Ty caught her staring out of the corner of his eye, "You know I can see you staring at me, right?" He smirked.

"I don't care, you know, I really couldn't imagine my life without you. I love you," she smiled.

Ty took her hand that was on the arm rest in the middle and smiled, "I love you too, I really couldn't imagine my life without you, either."

They pulled up in the hotel car park and parked up, Ty leant over and gave her a kiss before getting out. They walked hand in hand over to the entrance of the hotel and made their way to the room.

"Okay, so we have a few hours before we absolutely need to start getting ready, do you want to watch a film or something?" Ty asked as he sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes.

Amy yawned, "Yeah, I think that sounds good, although I bet I will fall asleep so it may be best we set an alarm?"

"Yeah, good idea," Ty replied and set the alarm on his phone, "So what film do you want to watch?"

"Erm, I think we should ditch the film, I am honestly way too tired to think about what to watch, just put the comedy channel on," She said, getting into bed.

Ty lay down beside her and opened his arms up for her, he too was extremely tired, their late night talk by the river and his early rise had really taken it out of him, "Oh Amy, I'm sorry for keeping you up last night," He sighed.

"There is nothing to be sorry about! You are going through a hard time, and I am just glad I am here to help you through it," She explained, "Just don't try and do it alone, you know I'm always here for you."

"I know, and that is one of the million and one reasons as to why I love you," He replied and kissed her forehead, "Come on, let's see what's on the telly." He said, grabbing the remote and turning over the channel to one of the comedy channels. They both lay there, watching the TV and they weren't even 10 minutes into a program when Ty realised that Amy had fallen asleep, he smiled at her and kissed her forehead and turned the telly off. He lay back and held her tighter, just having her in his arms, made him feel like he was well and truly the luckiest guy in the world.

[gafrasworld]

Hi everyone….sorry I’m late but I was sooooo busy this week, I didn’t get to do my post, so I’m doing it as we speak,  and thank God in Trinidad we have a lot of holidays and today is one. We are celebrating Corpus Christ today and yesterday was also a holiday – Labour Day. Isn’t that great? 2 holidays in the middle of the week…yipeee!!!

  But that’s not what I wanted to talk about, just giving you an intro….yesterday with 2 other friends we organised a Prayer Meeting….well actually it was like a Prayer Group Reconnection, as my husband and I once belonged to a Prayer Group while at University in Trinidad (UWI) and that group became our extended family.

  We did many things together as a Prayer Group, we went on camp outs, went to areas to help pray with people, we did talks in different communities, we played cricket against other prayer groups and we basically ended up marrying within the group. That is where I found my husband, and friends for life, in fact many of the married couples I know today came out of that prayer group.

  Amongst the couples, we all have 4 or 5 kids and our children grew up together, but as time passed the Leader grew tired and the prayer group sort of dissolved right under our noses without us realising what was happening and people scattered. It was sad but it  happened subtly and quickly, but we knew, in our hearts, that everyone still belonged to the prayer group even though it didn’t exist anymore. We were all still connected in our hearts especially because the group had changed so many lives, built so many foundations within individuals and transformed many. We 3 ladies organised a reconnect and it was an amazing success.

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GET YOUR PRINTABLE PLANNERS HERE

I have to explain that me and 1 of these ladies had been trying to get together for ages to try to plan this reconnection but was always diverted or not available or thwarted in some way. We even met once then had to cancel because an issue occurred for one of us and she had to leave, so it was postponed. It’s only when we brought in lady number 3 that things happened quickly. And as someone pointed out, we needed the 3 of us to let it happen for God is the Trinity, 3 in one and Trinidad is known as La Trinity, so nothing can happen until there are 3 working on his plan. We know that God had this happen for a reason, we know he needed the 3 of us to start it and it became clear why based on what words and prophesies we received at the meeting.

You must be wondering…what the heck is prayer group?Well…..

A prayer group is a meeting of lay people from all walks of life for the purpose of prayer as a group. The Prayer meetings are normally conducted outside regular services. Prayer groups are made of small numbers of Christians, often between 6 and more, and led by a Prayer Group leader(s). … Prayer meetings may consist of praise and worship (singing), prayer, worship, Bible sharing, testimonials, discussions and a fellowship meal/snacks.

  Our country and the world is going through many difficult psychological and economical times. There is a lot more stress at work, thus causing a lot more anger, violence, illnesses, worry, poor decision making, bad relationships and so much more. People are looking to be loved and are betrayed, people are angry with injustice and rise up in protest and many are running from persecution or political wrangling.

  So now was a great time to resurrect a group that was spiritually guided and blessed. We were and are a Prayer group that was created to help the students on Campus and todate the spirituality of the students at the university is in peril. The Catholic group on Campus is not as vibrant as it once was, so we know that is why this reconnection was necessary. It was necessary to feed life back into the spiritual group of kids at the University because they needed help. Not only that but we found out that many students were struggling to stay afloat at the University because their grants weren’t coming in on time or they were short of cash for food and more. This is where we plan to help. we could feed the body as well as the soul.

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We planned to help feed some of these kids, provide a spiritual place they can come and fellowship and be at ease and help with fees where possible. So just to clarify, I am a Catholic, more than that I am a Charismatic Catholic which means we praise Jesus in a similar way to the Pentecostals but within our Catholic religion. We are not traditional in our praise and as a result many of the traditionalistic priests of the Catholic faith are totally against us and how we operate, but we all praise and worship the same God so despite the barriers we encounter sometimes we continue on, for the love of Jesus.

  No guys…I’m not preaching to you or anyone else, just explaining where I stand. God has been my foundation and strength all through my 55 years here on this earth. From young I’ve felt his presence and known he was with me. At that time I didn’t know what is was and I started searching to find which religion or spiritual group could help me strengthen the connection. I tried Raj Yoga, Rosicrucion, Pentecostal, transcendental meditation, then I heard about the prayer group while I was on Campus decided to attend a meeting, and that was it for me….I had come home…I found my resting place. As a Catholic family growing up we didn’t really go to church much and I didn’t really follow the traditions but I knew something was with me or someone, just not sure who. I knew it was God but where did he want me to make my link so I could build myself according to his will…and this group was it.

  There I discovered my gifts of the Spirit and I discovered deep friendships, so much so that we are each others children’s Godparents, and that is how it should be. We are a strong spiritual core and I thank God for sending me to them. There is a deep love between us all even though as the group scattered we still felt the same about each other, coming together after 24 years. Yes….!!!!!…….we had our last meeting in 1995. I was appalled to realise how much time had passed, but as someone mentioned in the meeting yesterday, to God, 24 years is but a few minutes, probably 24 minutes. After thinking about it like that I was fine, in fact it always amazes me or puts me in awe of how God works and we really don’t understand how he operates, even though he has described his ways in the bible, I know I still don’t get it.

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As humans we haven’t developed our psyche enough to make that incredible spiritual link to our Heavenly father here on earth. I tried and was distracted by the world, so I lost my footing, stumbled and it is taking me a while to catch myself back, especially as I kinda blamed God for allowing me to trip. I felt he could have prevented it if he wanted, but life is a choice, as I always tell my clients who I coach, we need to take personal responsibility for the decisions we make and therefore accept the consequences, while not placing blame on anyone else. I take my blame and I have accepted my punishments or consequences, but God loves me and my reprimand although hard and I still pay today, has made me stronger and wiser and opened my eyes to discern certain issues better.

  One thing I must mention, when I discovered this group, I brought my mother and brother into the fold and their lives changed. At the time my mother was estranged from my father and he was being very malicious towards us, but that worked itself out, my father died (killed by his way of life) and I thank God again for leading me to the group and helping my family find the spiritual family and foundation they needed to go on in life. It also helped build the spirituality within my kids and they have all been blessed and they are a strong group of kids ( I have 4). In fact all of the children born out of the Prayer Group are amazing individuals and are all doing extremely well. God is good, all the time.

So people, find your connection to your God, who ever or whatever that may be and if that feeling inside you saying that there is a Spiritual Being linked to you, go find it and let it guide you because for me God’s guidance is unmeasurable and without him I am nothing. I thank him for my journey in life and I thank him daily for all that I have and I thank him for all the love he spews on me and I thank him for you my followers and virtual friends. Be blessed people. God is Love.

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    With Love, Time Matters Not Hi everyone....sorry I'm late but I was sooooo busy this week, I didn't get to do my post, so I'm doing it as we speak,  and thank God in Trinidad we have a lot of holidays and today is one.