#resident bird brain over here

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[alnilaem]

I don't know how much it fits but, keeping with the theme of butcher!simon's neighborhood being a bit dangerous:

where I grew up (rough neighborhood) there were often bars/pubs and even gas stations nearby that operated all afternoon/night and guys often congregated outside smoking cigarettes and what not. they never bothered the residents, but they damn well worked as guard dogs and warded off strangers.

so... idea: simon and his buddies hanging out outside the corner pub when reader is coming/going to her second job in the weekends, watching closely to make sure she makes it from the bus/train stop to the building door, especially after dark.

OR

alternatively!! simon who stays up and checks out of his window when reader is coming home after dark and doesn't let himself go to sleep until he hears her door unlocking and her making some type of sound (like closing her rickety door or whatever).

i dont think you understand….. reading this altered my brain so viscerally. guard dog simon. yeah.

-

“Still got yer balls in her purse?”

Simon lights his cigarette. The soft smoulder of it barely offsets the flickering streetlight above them, scarcely illuminates the sidewalk. It shines over his face, hanging from the threshold of his lips.

“Yup,” he hums. “Right where I want ‘em.”

Johnny cackles through the plume of smoke curling up and out of his lips. He pats Simon on the back, taking a long drag of his cig, and bumps his shoulder with Kyle’s.

“When’d’ya reckon he’ll let us meet the Bird?”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “When he finds someone to pay.”

“Put a sock in it,” Simon snarls. Taps the ash off his cig. 

Photo is a generous word for it. But it was the only thing Simon had to testify to your existence. A blurry, smudgy picture taken on his phone. Half-eclipsed by his thumb which was accidentally in the corner of his camera. A picture of you leaving the lift—a shallow angle of you walking in some leggings, returning from work. 

It was privy to Simon. A likeness to indulge in during his work days. But in a flitting moment, Johnny laid his eyes on it. Read him to filth for it.

And now, they’re here. 

Off-white sheets of rain running off the canopy they’re situated under. Each holding a cigarette to their lips, resting against the wet brick of a hole-in-the-wall pub. The warm hum from inside pooling into the empty streets of Manchester.

A thin sound arises from it. The chime of a shopkeeper’s bell, signifying the door is being opened. Into the diving rain, you step out, clutching a backpack against your shoulder, your uniform sticking to your skin.

It’s a heavy mass of muscle you almost run into. You stop yourself with a hand split against their chest, against the fleetly rise-and-fall of their jacket.

You have to hoist your neck up to see him. It takes you a while to reorient yourself, to recognise the depthless copper of his eyes. And it takes you even longer to register the underside of his face. Bare, flooded under the soft light of streetlights. 

“Simon!” You squeak. The succession of his heartbeat pumping under your palm. Two men hovering behind him, exchanging puckish smirks. “What are you doing here?”

Simon’s eyebrows purse like he’s confused. He tilts his head, looking at you like a puppy, and shrugs. “I’m here to pick you up.”

“Pick me up–” a chord of bemusement strikes you, collapsing your sentence. Your reservations catch up to you, hitting you like bricks. “Pick me up?”

Simon grunts. His eyes flicker down to your skirt, how it flurries in the wind, and pulls you beneath the awning. 

“Getting y’rself all wet under there,” he grumbles. “Brought you this.”

Simon holds up an umbrella. He waits for you to take it before splaying his big hand on the hind of your spine and turning you around, shepherding you forward.

Your voice is warped with bashfulness when you speak. “Where’re we going?”

“Home,” he says. Three pairs of footfall tread on your heels. Each one more intimidating than the other. Sticky and wet as they trail behind you.

“Just keep walking, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “‘m here.”

It’s a shield that keeps everyone away. The invasive eyes, the creeping men that usually accompany you on your walk home after work. But today, they’re silent. 

The three men are a pack of dogs behind you. 

Simon, kissing the ground before you walk on it.

[alienpossession]

Continuing the Dubai aliens story a bit after some additional inspo by the one and only @cleanstatevessels

The Prince

Story by cleanstatevessels with revision and add-on from me

The alien now in charge of the Prince's body smirk at the reflection of the very handsome, fresh-from-workout Prince looking back. It tried to get comfortable in its new vessel, making several silly and sexy expression interchangably, pushing the Prince's usually stoic and calm demeanor to be borderline unhinged and certainly not Prince-like. But again, he's the Prince now, not the biggest or the most important one in terms of influence among his half-siblings, yet it's not like plain commoner can tell him what to do. Certainly not his brain-fucked bodyguards too, as the whole security details and servants of the Prince in his residence already turned into empty husks that run on autopilot, empty but ready to be filled by any sludge that needed human bodies to ride on.

After inspecting the body's internal organ condition post-takeover, the sludge tried to get lodged in comfortably within the brain and wholly encapsulated it for full control. The movement caused the Prince's eyes rolled back from it socket as his mouth gaped in an unusual size as black sludge was seen coming out of his throat. It oozes out from his mouth like an oil flow and the alien's vision activated alongside the vision from its vessel's eyes, making the sludge able to see the world in a much-more enhanced view as it combined its vessel's vision and its own. The bird in the very far distance, the shade of colors only captured by the alien's eyes, the vision of the alien is better to capture things in the distance rather than close proximity so the takeover actually completed the vision. While doing all that, the muscle of the Prince's body tensed as the alien made the Prince flexed his arm to give access to the black sludge to reach his pits as the sludge lapped up all the leftover sweat from the Prince's workout. It seems like the movement of the sludge all over his body turned him on as the outline of the Prince's cock straining its brief and had a damp patch on the tip. But of course that was not the case since the Prince is nothing but an empty husk, it was all the alien doing after absorbing all the info from the Prince's mind about the things that turned him on, and the alien just simply enjoyed playing with its plaything, showcasing his control over its vessel. The black sludge eventually withdrew back to the Prince throat and his eyes went back to normal as his gaped mouth also closed. Then, he grinned deviously,

"Ahmed, Yahya, come in here. Your Prince needs some services from his brainless slave!"

Piotr the Firm Owner

After the hard-fought takeover eventually proven to be successful, Piotr resumed the realty business as usual.

It's never a hard day to find new client as Piotr's firm already well-known beforehand anyway, and with Sander, Mike and Andrei spreading the word to their friends, high-powered clientele always walked in and out of the door of the firm. Of course they don't convert everyone that walked in, but with the alien in control, they sharpened the type of client they provided their services for. In his first client after the takeover, Piotr met with discreet entrepreneur named Dusan Kovacevic.

The alien inside Piotr cannot find any information about Dusan, nor the search on the internet resulted in something that can explain how on Earth this person seemingly ready to pay 55 million USD in cash for this 3-level penthouse that has the entire 360 view of Dubai. But mid-way on the tour around the unit, Dusan's phone started ringing. As the built Serbian hunk excused himself to the balcony after saying some Russian words, the black sludge oozed out from Piotr's ear and started snooping to know what is he talking about with the caller. To get the best of both senses, the sludge dangled itself right on Piotr's ear in order for it to not only captured the conversation, but to also utilized Piotr's ability to speak Russian to translate the conversation. The phone call revealed to the alien that Dusan is a major arms dealer with the cover of working on fitness startup and crypto trading and that caused the little black sludge to be excited, which translated into Piotr's hardening cock as the alien mind already filled with plans to advance their effort for Earth's domination

It returned back inside Piotr's brain after satisfied with the intel despite Dusan seemingly continued his conversation. Then, the alien quickly split itself and merged its half into Piotr's saliva that then he spits on the glass of whiskey Dusan asked for earlier. With a smirk, he waited for the phone call to be finished and upon return, he casually offered Dusan with the tainted liquor. With no suspicion whatsoever, the arms dealer chugged the whiskey and not for long, the glass shattered to the floor as Dusan realized something's off. He tried to run for his life to the bathroom he saw earlier, trying to grav whatever is blocking his airway and seemingly filled his mouth too. Yet, his resistant proven to be futile as he slouched head first to the floor right in front of the bathroom. His body wriggled and convulsed wildly like he's being possessed by some demonic entities while Piotr watched in delight of his apparent success. The twisting, stretching and turning caused his tight-fitting shirt to be ripped apart and then soon after, the Louis Vuitton jacket followed suit, revealing tattooed body and sheen of sweat that showcased the internal battle the sludge faced from Dusan's body.

Several minutes later, and in a faster manner compared to the way Piotr's body taken over and recovered, Dusan already on his feet looking at Piotr with a mischievous grin. He looked at the destroyed fabric around him and let out a chuckle as he started to flex his muscle in delight. Piotr beamed with pride looking at his first successful acquisition, certainly the first out of many.

----

Not even 15 minutes after the whole handover process, as Piotr arrived in the apartment's parking lot, an Instagram story from Dusan's account already popped. Piotr smiled with delight looking at Dusan's immaculate form, is this a hookup call for the masses or something? Is he really going to work on his plan to get one new body every day to the cause literally from tonight? That guy seemed ready to rumble though

When Piotr finished with some paperwork of his own in the office and ready to hit home, a DM notification sent by Dusan entered his phone. A picture, followed by a caption that said

"Like moth to flames, everyone want a piece of this heat, not knowing it hurts them in the end of the day. Bet you can guess who is the moth here hahah,"

And then another ominous DM followed suit

"One down, more to go,"

Sander & Andrei + Mike

"Let me go! Fuck, I know there's something up with you two freaks! Ugghhhh get that shit away from me!" screamed the tied Mike as he tried to wriggle himself free while pushing away the cum-soaked socks that belonged to Andrei that Sander teased right in front of his flushed face. As Mike tried to push the socks away one more time, Sander instantly went violent and choked the handsome rich brat until his head hit the headboard behind him. Gagged and gasping for breath, Mike's opened mouth suddenly stuffed with the damp socks that Sander shoved violently that almost lead to Mike's jaw to be broken. Andrei then raised his voice in anger

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN KILL HIM!"

"Oh shut up, when I'm inside him, he will be fucking fine anyway. It's not like he's being destroyed by cannonball or something, relax, he's still breathing,"

Sander then stared at the half-conscious Mike with eyes that clearly indicate something bad is about to happen.

"Yeah, you heard it right. I'm going to get inside you, making you just another dumb muscle puppet to control around. Your body will serve greater purpose rather than this vapid existence you currently have, so you should be thanking us,"

Mike frowned in his last few seconds, the image of a black sludge coming out of Sander's mouth and nose become the last vision he encountered before the world goes dark for him

----

Mike cracked his neck and jaw, opening it wide and closing it in quick succession as he tried to ensure that it's not broken or anything as he looked at the two "realtor" that taken him captive since a couple hours ago. His first word to them

"Fuck you,"

And the three of them just laughing loudly right after, with Mike directly standing up and proceed to hug his two brothers

"What a fine stud this guy is. You two have keen eye for the strong and delectable," he said as he then dropped his grey sweatpants to reveal a dangling 7 inches beer can of a meat

"What can we say? We are bunch of narcissist, so we know the standard of good body and good looks as we based it on ourselves. The brain's good?" asked Andrei as he gently grabbed the dick for quick inspection before he let it flop as he now focused his sight to Mike's face

"Perfect. A smooth talker, with killer looks too. Deadly duo for the humans near him. The wealth certainly put him into an even higher level of privileged brat. Such a blessed young man. Well, I am such a blessed young man," Mike said as he proudly flexed his biceps while his cock goes rock hard. A rather massive grower, as it reaches close to 10 inches when hard and that hardening dick casually grazed Sander's dress pants

Sander found the dick to be highly intriguing because not only it's uncut unlike what he and Andrei have, it's also curved slightly. But despite of the tempting thought to test that dick and see how different of a sensation it's going to be, Sander just coughed instead as he said

"Hmm....as much as we want to help you get acquainted with that body of yours, what we learn best is the fact that self-discovery is more fulfilling and can help accelerate the memory absorption, so here's the key of this unit and we'll let you have your fun. See you next week in our office for consolidation with the Prince, okay?"

Mike just said "hmmm" in understanding as he let the two realtors left him while he checks his own reflection in the wide bathroom mirror. He decided to wrap a towel around his waist, a vision he gained from absorbing the memories that belonged to Mike, and checks his reflection. Like an instinct, he fished out his phone from his pants right outside the bathroom and then posed for a selfie, just like the real Mike would do everytime he stumbled upon a new gorgeous mirror that can reflect his sculpted physique beautifully

The more memories of Mike it absorbed, the more aroused the alien become. When the memories of the countless volleys of load that Mike's massive cock shot into those tight holes and even faces and hands started to fill his mind, the alien couldn't help itself but mimicked the memories as it guided Mike's hands to tug his massive meaty pole. As it gets faster and faster, more and more memories poured into his mind and when it feels this impending pressure right on the tip of his cockhead ready to explode, he let out a massive roar as his body trembled violently with the release of what it could remember as the biggest load Mike ever shot in his life. It went on and on for 1 minutes straight before his body simply slumped back to the bathtub, panting for breath as the coagulating load started to sink and stick to his body. He let out a chuckle

"Guess I'm doing a better job than you ever did throughout your life, maybe you like me in control after all,"

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Them reacting to reader using their vision in weird ways

Characters: Ayaka / Furina x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

a/n: When I updated my masterlist yesterday, I noticed that I hadn’t written for Ayaka in a long time, so I decided to use my 3 brain cells and think of something to write for her. Why is Furina here as well? Easy, since I love her and want to dig myself into an even deeper hole for when it inevitably turns out I got her whole personality wrong once Fontaine comes out in a few days.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Ayaka

Crossing paths with you while walking around the Kamisato Estate was as common as seeing a bird fly over the horizon. You were everywhere, from filling out paperwork in the garden, running errands for her brother or sneaking off to pet whatever pet you had laid eyes on to rushing past everyone to fetch Thoma before he could waste more of his time trying to fulfill one of Ayato’s impossible assignments. And although you seemed to be in a hurry most of the time, you always made sure to stop and chat with Ayaka whenever she passed you.

Your conversations were brief, but that didn’t mean that the young Kamisato didn’t appreciate them, making sure to keep an eye out for you whenever she could, so when she finally spotted you while talking to another resident of the estate, her eyes immediately began following you, not wanting to lose track of you before she had the opportunity to at least greet you. Something that had to wait until her current conversation was over.

Your face was as red as it could be, not that she held it against you. It was a scorching hot day and Ayaka was lucky enough to have her fan with her whenever she felt it became too unbearable. You however, having both of your hands full with paperwork you were presumably carrying to her brother’s office, weren’t so lucky. But just as she thought about offering you her fan, you carefully put your chin on top of the papers, pressing them between it and your right hand before quickly grabbing your anemo vision with the other and creating a wind as an impromptu fan.

“Miss Kamisato?”, her conversation partner called out her name in a worried manner, probably noticing her space out when she failed to answer a question, causing Ayaka to snap back to reality as a small blush formed on her cheeks, quickly apologizing. Luckily, the other person didn’t seem to care too much, asking the question again.

“So, about your order…” However, their voice quickly faded into the background as her attention once again shifted towards you, your previous stunt seemingly having caused a few papers to fall to the ground, leading to you silently staring at them, probably thinking about what to do next. 

Instead of bending down and picking them up however, you once again used your vision to create a breeze that caused them to fly just high enough for you to catch them without having to move an extra muscle, smiling to yourself as you put them back on top of the other papers before your gaze met hers.

Before Ayaka knew it, you were waving and smiling at her, your vision still in hand , and before she managed to stop herself, she was waving back, only to be dragged back to the present once again when she saw her conversation partners confused look, causing her face to grow even redder than last time, especially when she heard a snicker escape your mouth.

Furina

Furina had hoped for a million different things to spice these mind bogglingly boring days up, a sudden mysterious criminal causing chaos while evading police and setting off an intriguing investigation, a comet filled with alien lifeforms crashing into the surrounding area, a judge pronouncing a word embarrassingly wrong… ANYTHING.

So when she noticed a person throwing their pyro vision into a pot of water to heat it, she couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, continuing to watch them with rising interest as it became increasingly clear the water had gotten too hot for the vision to be fished out, her smile only growing larger with each bubble that rose to the water's surface.

“You need something or are you just here to watch and smile?”, you eventually asked as you turned your head towards her, your face portraying a miffed expression, one bringing her even more amusement. Meeting a stand owner that was accidentally more entertaining than most shows she visited in the last couple of weeks wasn’t exactly on her bingo sheet for that day, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

“No, I’m just watching”, she stated, not even attempting to hide her amusement. Only for you to look back down at the pot with an increasingly worried expression.

“You got a cryo vision or something that I could throw in to cool it?”

Your question earned you nothing but a deadpan expression, only for the silence between the two of you to suddenly cause it to shatter within an instance, Furina breaking out in laughter as it became increasingly clear that you were being serious, eventually ending up in her having to wipe away her tears, stopping her laugh several times to look at you with a face nearly begging you to say you were joking before continuing even more uncontrollably.

“If you intend on continuing to laugh instead of helping, then please go away”, you eventually stated, your face withholding any emotions as you stared at her, only for her to finally calm down enough to speak.

“Just pour out the water”, she managed to say between her laughs, causing you to shake your head.

“Great, and where do I quickly get new water from then?”, you asked sarcastically.

“Hello? You’re talking to the Hydro Archon here, water should be the least of your concerns”, she wheezed. Only to immediately stop when she heard a laugh coming from you, her expression darkening as it was your turn to laugh at her.

“Yeah right, good one. Let me help you find your parents, I’m sure they must start to get worried about you”, you laughed and laughed until you buckled over holding your stomach, not able to stop for even a second.

It took Furina all of her willpower not to take the boiling pot and pour it over you, the only thing stopping her being the knowledge that doing so would rob her of one of the few entertaining people in her country.

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Eleven on AO3

Contents

Bear!Price x reader | explicit

Admittedly, he doesn't get much done. But he's so sated and happy, he's fairly certain Simon could come in and quit right there on the spot and John would just let him go, happy to see the big man moving on with his life. Instead, when Simon barges into John's office, he does not bring such joyous news as 'I'm getting out of your hair'.

John's daydreaming about sex in the first paragraph. It's not overly explicit but if that's not your thing just skip it :)

also, some cannon-typical violence in this chapter! It's gonna get worse from here lmao

By Wednesday, John's so blissed out on love hormones and rabbit cum he doesn't even mind doing payroll. He sits at his desk dutifully, never even once wandering off in search of some menial task to help him procrastinate from the mind numbing desk work, content to stare blankly at his screen and replay getting his rabbit bent over his counter for breakfast. She'd made him keep his hands to himself at first, but it was her mistake; the grip he had on the farside of the counter gaining him enough leverage to set her soft body bouncing, have her drooling onto the counter top. She'd been so pretty. A right bounty, just for him, and when he'd told her as much, she'd finally let him paw at her, get his arms under her soft belly to be sure he wasn't hurting her with how roughly be pressed her hips into the surface.

Admittedly, he doesn't get much done. But he's so sated and happy, he's fairly certain Simon could come in and quit right there on the spot and John would just let him go, happy to see the big man moving on with his life.

Instead, when Simon barges into John's office, he does not bring such joyous news as 'I'm getting out of your hair'.

"Got something you need to see, cap." He slaps a manila folder down onto Price's desk, stuffed with about a quarter ream of paper.

"Not reading a resume that long, Si. If you think they're worth it that's good 'nough for me."

"Man came in asking about your bird last night."

John's eyes dart to the folder in front of him. Some animal instinct compels him to eat the damn thing and be rid of it, but he manages to keep such urges at bay as he reaches his pen out, snags it under the folder's cover.

Inside is a right dossier: birthday, job description, hometown, summary of residencies and former employment. John barely glances at any of it, eyes locked instead on the photo Simon's attached of his bunny standing stiffly in the embrace of a fox-faced blond with a scar on his cheek. 'Phil Graves,' the report says across the top and John attempts a laugh, manages a growl. "You're having a laugh," he mutters, more at God than Simon. His voice is muddled with excess saliva, jowls heavy.

"'M'not that funny," Simon counters, completely deadpan. "Anyway, he came 'round yesterday and asked Soap if 'e'd seen 'er because they were 'supposed to meet up.' Johnny didn't think much of it and told him she'd probably be by sooner or later." John's lip curls in frustration and Simon's quick to go to the man's defense. "Not like 'e knew, cap. Anyway, guy stuck around for 'bout four hours, asking Johnny all sorts of questions about her -."

"And?"

Simon blinks at him balefully. "And, nothing. Johnny got wise quick and didn't tell 'im anything. Then our friend 'ere started asking about you."

"Me?" John asks, lip curling in distaste.

"Think 'e's been keeping tabs."

John slams the folder closed, unable to stand his bunny's sad eyes staring up at him anymore. "Tabs?"

"Gaz managed to get some of his banking info -." He pointedly ignores John's raised brow. "You'll see some transaction summaries in there. Man's been in the area for a bit, probably gathering info. Slow about it," Simon scoffs, and John would probably find that funny if most of his brain function wasn't currently dedicated to suppressing the spontaneous growth of seven centimeter canines.

"He's in Glacier?" John repeats, stupidly. He's trying to follow along, truly, but he feels like a dog chasing its tail; thought process cycling rapidly between general bloodlust, finding his rabbit immediately, and holding his bear at bay at least until he's away from Simon.

"Looks like."

"Since when?"

"At least a week."

"I haven't seen this fucker."

Simon squints at him. "Well, you wouldn't've, cap. Would you?"

"Christ," John hisses, burying his face in his hands. They still smell like the rabbit. Distracting. "What else did he say?"

Simon grunts. "Next bit's the weird part. 'E sad 'e figured we all - that's you, Johnny and me - all knew each other real well, and that we're bad people, so we should know why 'e didn't want ''is girl' 'round us."

"He said we're bad people?"

"So you do know 'im?"

John huffs, shakes his head. "Know of him. Know she just got out of a bad break up, that she sleeps in a car. Know she gets all flighty if I say or do anything that could even be perceived as angry -." I know she doesn't like me to touch her during penetrative sex. "It was pretty easy to figure out, but then I overheard her talking to an old friend on the phone." He motions at the folder in front of him illustratively. "She was asking if a blond guy with a southern accent and a scar on his cheek had reached out to ask about her. From the sounds of it, he had. She told him all about how Phil here controlled her finances, isolated her… got physical. She asked the friend not to mention to anyone that they'd heard from her, and that Phil here was probably keeping tabs on social media."

"He does have a lot of ghost accounts."

John peeks at the picture again, closes the folder just as quickly. "Think I'm gonna kill him, Si."

To his credit, the man doesn't even blink. "Why's he think we're bad people?"

"Fuck if I know, mate. Probably saying some shite to -."

"More specifically, cap, why does he think you're dangerous?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, I figure, this guy can't be spending too much time looking into either Johnny or me. 'E just assumed we all knew each other, before - were all friendly - because we all work together and happen to be European. Bit of an idiot like that, it seems. But see, Johnny has no sense of self preservation. 'E's got pretty much his entire life posted online and even a cursory search would've shown 'im 'e was wrong. So, 'e's not looked up either of us, which means 'is assumptions are based off what he dug up on you." Simon tilts his head curiously, doesn't bother voicing the question that lingers between them. John spends so much time avoiding Simon's silent, omniscient glower he forgets sometimes that the man's tongue is often worse.

John squints, for the first time actually considering Phil's words. He's an idiot, and a lying bastard, most like, but if he's been hanging around town, keeping tabs…

"Sure I don't know."

"Final answer?"

"I'm not in the habit of entertaining the allegations of women beaters, mate," John growls.

Simon doesn't even blink. "And you think you're gonna kill 'im?"

Fuck. He can't even bring himself to deny it.

Still unblinking, Simon nods once in acceptance. "Olright. I'm gonna go double check some browser history. Tell Gaz to do the same." He snags a sharpie out of John's pen holder, turns the folder to himself and marks it with his spidery scrawl as he keeps talking, "Your bird sleeps in 'er car, you said?" His eyes flick up just long enough to see John nod. Briefly, John thinks that if Simon weren't so… Simon, he'd have lovely big cow eyes. "It occurs to me that vandwellers gotta sleep off the beaten path. And if Phil's been following 'er, 'e's probably found 'imself in some… backcountry areas." Done writing now, Simon turns the full force of his upsettingly perceptive gaze on John. He looks like he's waiting for something - some spark of recognition - but John's got maybe two brain cells to rub together currently, and none of them are devoted to interpreting Simon Riley's vague, cryptic, often c-grade horror movie related references, so he just stares blankly back until the man continues. "That's bait."

"Huh?"

"If Graves were just 'ere for the girl, 'e never would've shown 'is hand. 'E wants to draw you out. So, 'e's got something on you, and 'e's trying to manipulate you." Simon ticks them off on his fingers, turns the folder so it faces John again, and stands with a scraping of his chair. "Don't be stupid."

John huffs, adjusts his seat as an excuse to feel his limbs flex. "So he just left? After showing up and being all ominous?"

"No." The conviction with which he denies it would be better suited to a murder trial. "Threw 'im out on 'is ass, didn't I?"

When he's gone, John stares balefully down at the folder for a moment, brain only recognizing the kind of carte blanche Simon has given him when he finally registers the note left there. 'Burn after reading'.

First, he has to secure the rabbit.

***

John doesn't even bother texting first, sniffing her out among the gaggles of tourists growing like mushrooms in the late spring rains. It's easy enough to find her, the distinct honey and strawberry scent that had first attracted him is beginning to change to reflect their bond. Soon it will be strong enough that even humans will be able to tell she's spoken for, if only subliminally. It only serves to make him antsier, upsets him to know she's even been allowed to wander so far when he'd known another man was after her.

Graves' unread file taunts him from the passenger seat. Clearly, Graves was adept enough to track the girl clear across the map. John should have taken the time to figure out what he was up against; but the notion that Graves already knew where his bunny was was disconcerting. If Graves was just biding his time, he could decide at any moment that he'd had enough of waiting.

And John didn't even know what his plan was.

He had to find her first, secure her. He wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything until that was done, anyway.

Her scent leads him to a coffee shop downtown, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when he slides into the chair across from her. "John -?" she starts. Doesn't make it much further.

"We have to leave."

"Pardon?"

"Come back to my place, please, honey. Now."

She squints at him, tetchy. "Why?"

John fidgets, frustration boiling under his skin. It's not her fault, of course, but if he doesn't get her locked in his den in the next thirty minutes, he's going to end up getting himself put down by animal control. He'd had a plan - when he left the office - a script to follow to get her to listen to him. He can't remember more than two words now.

"Graves's here," he blurts, knows he's fucked up when her brow knits ominously.

"Phil?"

John nods, tries to reach for her hand. She yanks it away from him. Distantly, he's proud to see her so suspicious. It's well-earned and a better alternative to the blind panic he'd half expected.

"How do you know about Phil?"

"Heard you talking about him to your friend that day, bunny. I'll explain everyth -."

"You were listening in on me?"

"Didn't mean to. Have good ears -."

"I never mentioned his last name."

John wishes he could follow along better, think clearly enough to find the words she needs to hear. Instead, all he manages is a dumb, "Huh?"

"I never mentioned Phil's last name on that phone call, John. How'd you know it?" His brain feels like it's being pulled in twenty directions, but he still manages to note how pretty she is when she's spittin' mad.

"Came into the bar looking for you. Soap ID'd him." He may as well be talking to the wall because there it is. Late to the party but reliable as the sun. The second he says Phil had been at the bar, the rabbit's eyes go big and round, darting around the cafe as if she expects to see him watching them from the next table over. "Sweetheart," he hedges, but the sound of his voice just makes her squirm.

"I have to go. Goodbye, John," she says, and something about her tone betrays the finality of it.

"Bunny," he pleads, lurching out of his seat to follow her. He can't keep his voice level enough not to scare her; tries placing a soothing palm on her arm instead.

It's as if he'd slapped her, the way she flinches away from him. John holds his hands up when she wheels on him, finds himself murmuring soothing words she doesn't listen to. There are people watching now, but he doesn't care, just needs his rabbit to listen.

She doesn't. "Goodbye, John," she hisses, and then hightails it out the door.

She's a quick little thing. John gets stopped by a well-meaning couple who think he means her harm and by the time he manages to barrel past them, she's already made it to her Jeep. He tries to call after her, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out are coughs as his lungs attempt to shrivel up within his chest. He needs air. Get's pain instead. There's a hissing noise; it takes him a minute to realize he can't identify it because his eyes are closed. When he opens them he thinks maybe the jelly of his eyeballs have been boiled off; coagulated and cemented to his eyelids like overcooked jam. Still, he catches the barest hint of an aerosol can, stream pointed right at his face. He bats blindly, gets his hand knocked away violently. John grabs the offending hand and yanks, but it only serves to drag the person - and therefore the canister - closer. He gets a mouthful the next time he gasps for breath, and he nearly throws up, bile adding to the acidic taste he can't dislodge.

"Dude, enough!" someone shouts. Closer, muffled, a twangy accent tells them to mind their business. The snarl John emits scares even himself, voice broken and guttural as it is. He opens his eyes just enough to catch the conniving blue gaze hidden safe behind a pair of goggles, identifiable scar visible above the thick facemask he's using to protect himself. John can't keep his eyes open any longer than that, but he doesn't need to. He swings a heavy hand, catches him at the nape of his neck. He draws Graves closer, forgets what form he's in and tries to wrap his maw around the man's head. Human, he only manages to snag his ear between his teeth but that's a good start so he bites clean through it, shaking his head to tear the stringy bits of flesh loose when he pulls away. He can't even taste the blood for all the capsaicin coating his tongue. There's screaming - maybe Graves, probably onlookers. John hears the aerosol can run out and snarls in victory as the grip on Graves' neck turns crushing. Keeping the man close, John tries using his size to tip them both over but Graves is quicker, has the added advantage of being able to fucking see.

Graves turns, converts John's inertia to dump him across the pavement. A boot falls heavy on John's chest. He grabs it, tugs, only succeeds in pulling Graves' knee down onto himself. The weight shifts and then Graves' voice is close, maybe only an inch above him. "You're lucky there are witnesses," he hisses, dodges the mit John blindly swings at him. "I ever see you again, I'm putting you down like the rabid beast you are."

And then he empties another can of mace straight up John's nose and things go hazy for a while.

Next>>

[alexiswritingstuff]

Saved by the unexpected.

Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)

Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman. 

Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.

Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss. 

Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!

A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created! 

Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading! 

It was supposed to be a morning like any other. One that started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon. 

You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks. 

I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet?

The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, meaning that you had to take a detour. 

It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments. 

So, the decision to choose it was simple. 

You took off down the pathway between two very large buildings that almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area. The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of repair, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things. 

Some parts even looked about ready to fully crack and crumble. 

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings the further they got from the main street. The only people even coming here were probably residents from some that managed to become apartments. But the rest was pretty much just abandoned property.

You had moved under an overhang section created by the walkway above, connecting the two opposing buildings. It honestly sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width, but definitely not by length as you were quickly welcomed by the next area. 

To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park. 

The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings. 

Though now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be. 

In the furthest corner was this very specific looking handful of cars; big and black, almost blocky in structure. A sight that should have been acknowledged as the first sign. Your first warning. 

But not fast enough.

Out of nowhere, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear drums. It was a violent sound, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your left. 

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat, somehow. I mean, the building was old. 

It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Maybe even someone trying to fix up the damn building.

In fairness, those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... 

They were just the wrong ones. 

The sounds repeated, and whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed it to be heard in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds were these clinks like something was falling on the floor right after. 

And though it was a very muffled detail, that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Within the same moment that you had made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed.

There was a chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skidded against the concrete as they moved. Like you had just stumbled across a damn army.

You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. 

It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for the people that might decide to come your way.

You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair. 

Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible. It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet. 

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off one arm at a time before the bag was finally placed in front of you.

Your fingers immediately unzipped it to begin the search. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had in fact just gone shopping. 

I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight. 

So, you moved onto the pockets that sat on either side of the bag. A huff of air passed through your lips while your hand shuffled through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some candy or gum. 

So, it was on to the next. 

This time, to do the same routine, was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. A more careful process as you started to comb through the compartment. 

And then, finally, you felt something.

In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out. 

But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

Right as the item had been tugged vertically, an attempt to make it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.

Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening... 

However, half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed. 

It started to tip out of the pocket. 

A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you. 

In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll. 

You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it. 

The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see. 

And eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point it didn’t really matter. 

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding farther away, as murmurs of confusion had dispersed through men on the other side of the wall. 

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it. 

“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...

But a pair of footsteps still remained. 

Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor. 

Especially when they started getting louder. 

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. 

There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items. Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it. 

Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path below on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into the unstretched leg until it was folded under you. 

By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppressing the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg behind, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so. And then the timer went off. 

You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.

But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

A movement was caught from the corner of your eye. 

You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared right round the corner of the wall, slow and intense. 

He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun. 

Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment. 

At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and staying frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it. 

Either way, it was the kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.

The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink. 

You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet. 

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. 

“Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.” 

“Anything you want.” 

It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns. 

But then a shot rung out. Right in front of you.

It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area and pinged within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...

You could still move?

Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see of your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself. 

However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation. 

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, before your gaze finally tore away.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees. His hands were moving around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab a part of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. 

And then another shot fired. 

Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from. 

However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain, your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t at all ready for. 

It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled within seconds. 

Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by thousands of fire ants over and over again. 

Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you had in fact gotten shot. “Oh...”

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.  

By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.

His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy. 

They weren’t from the same group. 

The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see. 

And then he stilled. 

You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.

Within about a millisecond the man had the gun right back in his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached through your muscles.

The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout. 

And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate at once. 

For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path right afterwards. 

Every inch of your skin felt hot, yet cold at the same time. You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up and go home. Just curl up in bed and forget this ever happened.

But the ability to even budge a limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up at the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!” 

And right before you gave into that nagging want for them to close, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” 

You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that urged a gurgling sound from your throat. 

“Kid!”

~~~

It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came. 

The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between. 

Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made. 

It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity. 

Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.

There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat. 

You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.

If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind. 

There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.

Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.

The place was massive. 

This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath. 

“Hey.”

In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface. 

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again. 

And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus. 

There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.

“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft. 

He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”

“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.” 

Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady. 

Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest. 

Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.

Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through. 

The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away. 

Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.

So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in. 

You almost jumped out of your skin.

There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest. 

It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?

His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly. 

And then you looked at him. 

In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting. 

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his. 

The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears. 

In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet. 

Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet. 

It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.

The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.

He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.

You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.

And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in. 

Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy. 

The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut. 

Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier. 

He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7. 

And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?

Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily. 

There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone. 

Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind. 

You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting. 

But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.

So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen. 

“Hey, kid.”

The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?” 

With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?

“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention. 

Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness. 

The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”

Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible. 

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.

“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”

You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again. 

I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.

It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items. 

You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors. 

But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point. 

Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out. 

Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.

Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?

How could he even notice it that quick?

Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.

“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”

“That’s all.”

From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule. 

It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer. 

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds. 

At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity? 

Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.

Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary. 

People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?

Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.

You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.

This guys wasn’t strange. 

I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.

But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them. 

After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.

You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head. 

The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.

“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”

“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”

“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.” 

You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm. 

But then that name cycled through your head once more. 

Frank... Castle. 

Frank Castle.

It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.

Holy shit. 

He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.

Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.

I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise. 

So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece. 

Frank Castle was alive. 

Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention. 

Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information. 

Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once. 

But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you. 

Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?

Who were those other guys?

Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.

You were right. Frank  Castle wasn’t the bad guy.

Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--

Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.

It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now. 

Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”

He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”

He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.

You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come. 

By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison. 

“Deep breath.”

The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.

It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands. 

It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless. 

David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word. 

All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late. 

Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”

It was like a ripping of a band aid. 

At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours. 

The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.

The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.

And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment. 

It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it. 

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”

You were. 

Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.

However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.

You looked back at David. 

It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”

There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.

Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind. 

The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured. 

The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him. 

Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?” 

“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”

Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point. 

“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”

He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.

Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen. 

This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.” 

His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.

Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.

He didn’t say no. 

The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck. 

You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich. 

Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side? 

It started to rip.

“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all. 

In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.

And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows. 

He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.

When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him. 

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response. 

Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.” 

Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.

The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had. 

And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”

“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.

“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients. 

You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.” 

“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a--  a sandwich shop--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”

Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together. 

You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David. 

Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth. 

And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”

Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames. 

Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”

You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body. 

Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.

And then it made you think.

Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up. 

If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already. 

But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds. 

A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again. 

His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging. 

Thus, you swallowed once again.

“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.

But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”

Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.

Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”

Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.

He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?

“Y/n likes it.”

[no-name-blu]

A thought. John turning evil by some entity promising him a way to protect his friends and Melissa. But he’s just doing the right thing g but the wrong way

When they used to be Welcome Home OCs, that's literally John's plot in my AU, Gameshow Host! Wally XD

But it's more of a fun side plot that can be taken out/ignored. This plot shows more on what the real world is like, how the cult fans of the show are formed, and also shows what happens to the winners of the gameshow. Because according to Wally, they usually turn into a threat to Humanity.

Here's an old comic that I never finished, glad it gets to see the light of day now :D

You can get their lore explanation down here!

I figured to reveal it since they're not Welcome Home OCs anymore and I'm not gonna draw all of this

CW: VIOLENCE AND CHARACTER DEATH, A LOT OF READING

Melissa, John, Briella (My OCs) and Sunny (that bird character), are a friend group together. Briella was the very first contestant of the show and dies, making Melissa wanting to investigate it and she's been non stop working about it.

And then, maybe 3-6 months later? idk, John got picked to be the contestant and won, so he asked his prize to have the ability to help Melissa. So Home gave John this opportunity to have a tour in the studio with Wally. So the day that happened, Wally showed him around, the problem with foreign objects going to the studio, it starts to deteriorate, especially for one's sanity. John eventually runs off Wally's tour and try to find more secrets in the studio just to accidentally found the void where Home resides in. His brain did not recover from seeing Home, he doesn't remember what happens after that. But John got Home's powers now YIPEEEE

Also his mind is in shambles in a way it's like an "enlightenment" to him. He sees it like the show is actually a good thing, weeding out the evil in the world. And he wanted to help more than anything.

John finds more people to see this show the way he sees it. He somehow got Melissa convinced too (old idea was that he can do hypnotism) When he tried to convince Sunny, he disagreed, leading to John to think he's evil and such, ended up killing him. Both the idiotic and crazy couple basically going on a killing spree to form a cult fan club of the show :D Honestly, imagine JD and Veronica from Heathers, but they're both JD. They're what killed the dinosaurs, they're the asteroids that's overdue /lyr

Eventuallyyy Melissa starts to snaps out of it, telling John she doesn't want to do this anymore, noticed Home has been watching them and she wants to make a deal with him. Home says something like "make one big sacrifice, and I'll give you what you wish for" Not very helpful but still she took the deal. Then the comic above is what's next. After that, they fought.

John was about to kill her but held back and gave Melissa a chance to fight back, so she starts punching, beats him up until the marionette puppet stops being alive.

Somehow the result of this made Home gave Melissa her own powers with the glowing eyes and Home's pupils too. Basically saying, now she serves for Home and that she's also gonna go crazy, like what had happened to John.

But Melissa didn't take over the cult, that'll be someone else. What she did is help Wally find a suitable contestant for the episode.

This plot probably got some holes and not that fleshed out since I stopped writing into it. It was fun tho :D

If you wanna know the other nickel, it's their Reboot AU lore. John was also cray cray for a different reason.

[volterran-wine]

I love the idea of the newest (human) resident of Volterra, let’s say someone’s mate moving in before their transformation, being some kind of medical professional (doctor, nurse, surgeon, mortician, even a biologist of some kind, etc.) being completely unfazed by blood cuz they see it all the time but fretting over mundane moments (by vampire standards).

Things that do not alarm the new human: Bottles and bottles and bottles of human blood. A cellar of it.

Things that do alarm the new human: Corin grabbing a tray straight out of the oven with her bare hands, Demetri running down wet cobbled steps after it rains, Chelsea lifting up something impossibly heavy… using her back and not her legs.

Bonus points if they’re still like that for a while after turning cuz their brain is still wired to recognise human risks.

(Do you know that vine of the little girl playing with plastic/toy power tools and when her mum says ‘be careful’ she runs the toys tool over her fingers on purpose while staring into the camera and flips the bird? I can see that happening somewhere here with real power tools. Either the terror trio or the twins)

I think it is hard for any of us mortals to fully grasp just how uncanny vampires within this universe are, and this poor hypothetical mate had to experience the otherworldly behaviour up close.

For most of us seeing blood is not a strange thing, especially if you are fortunate enough to bleed every month.

But the hardwired fears that are drilled into the back of our minds? Those are the ones we would struggle with the most when observing vampires. From grabbing severely warm things to jumping from heights that would certainly shatter kneecaps to the lack of blinking; vampires are terribly strange and unnerving when they are not putting up a human facade for a mortals comfort.

Personally I would have such issues with the disregard of heights, I would be a nervous wreck watching these beings leap around and fall without a care in the world.

That and their limbs being torn off and reattached, I would simply faint.

[jmdbjk]

Tumblr anniversary

It's been TWO years since I chose to take up residence here on this hellsite/app.

Last year, when I posted about my Tumblr anniversary, Jungkook had just dropped his thirst trap birthday greeting to Jimin. And Yet to Come Busan had not happened yet. No one was enlisted yet. We had no idea that we were about to have our hearts ripped out by Jin's enlistment announcement.

My, what innocent babes we were.

So much has happened since last October other than the afore mentioned Yet to Come Busan concert and Jin's enlistment announcement.

We watched the members emotional sendoff to Jin in December. We watched them do it again for Hobi in April. We didn't see but we know Yoongi has begun his service. We don't need to see it. We are pretty certain within the next two months we will be sending another 2 or 3 or maybe even the rest of them off to do theirs as well.

We got The Astronaut, Dreamers, Indigo, a Christmas song from Tae, Vibe, Face, D-Day (and a tour and I saw Yoongi!!), Angel Pt. 1 & 2, The Planet, another version of Jack-in-the-Box, Take Two, Seven, Layover, 3D and we anxiously anticipate Golden. What am I missing? More collabs that Namjoon did with others. We got so much music I can't remember it all.

We've seen the clothing come off of every member. Some more than others. But still. Chapter Two is not about taking their shirts off, as Tae said...yeah, whatever Tae... it is about transitioning to a more mature image including taking control of their professional and personal images, their bodies, their autonomy, their maturity and sexuality. And boy howdy...

We got a very complex and far-reaching BTS 10th Anniversary Festa celebration that took place across the world.

We got Kook Cooks, Flying Yoga, Wootteo, Suchwita, Namjoon on Big Brains and Many of them Sitting at the Same Table Talking (or whatever the name of that show was), Dior Jimin, Tiffany Jimin, Calvin Klein Jungkook, Valentino and NBA Yoongi, Louis Vuitton Hobi, Bottega Veneta Namjoon, Cartier and Celine Taehyung, dance challenges.

We inadvertently got Jungkook's TikTok through his own error and now we are pretty sure the other members INCLUDING JIMIN are lurking on all the soc med platforms.

We got so much Jungkook being himself. And we watched him go from being fine with his couch potato cushion existence to being Mr. World Traveler who can't stay in one place for more than a few days before he's off again to who knows where and adding to Jimin's list of things to fret over.

We got a nice quantity of sweet quality interaction of Jimin and Tae just yesterday. This healed me.

We have heard over and over how each member is anxiously excited to get back and hurry up and show us they still have it.

There has not been any lack of things to talk about. There has not been any lack of controversy. We've seen things we probably weren't meant to see and we've seen things that are dubious as to their authenticity and things that were obviously made for us to see.

Like one of those of flying bird flock murmurations, the fandom is shifting and changing, spreading out and coalescing and doing all this repeatedly as we navigate this period of time before they get back together in 2025.

I hope we don't run off the rails this next year and that we all can find some common ground so we can stand together at the threshold of 2025 in anticipation of their comeback.

And sooooo many more of you have chosen to follow my weird ramblings, rantings and odd posts. Thank you for taking time to give my blog any consideration.

[pacinglikeghosts]

Happy belated Valentine’s Day, my loves! As Valentine’s Day is a fem holy holiday, I wanted to share the love. My take on one of my favorite rom-coms’ most iconic scenes, ronance-ified! I don’t have the energy to give you the song and dance of a moodboard, so imagine it’s pretty :) I’ll put one in when I’m up for it.

Frankly, Robin’s night couldn’t get worse. Not that it was bad to start—house parties are never her thing, especially ones that welcome the presence of Tommy H. and Steve Harrington—but babysitting Nancy Wheeler and being a couples counselor for her stupid younger brother made every part of the evening grow more and more insufferable.

And who knew that Nancy Wheeler, with her baby bird frail body, would be so damn heavy when drunk? Sure, alcohol added a bit of weight, but carrying Nancy’s concussed body away from the party was like carrying a ton of bricks.

��This is so patronizing,” Nancy insisted. “I’m fine.”

Robin rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip. “God, leave it to you to use SAT words when you’re drunk, Ms. Spelling Bee Champion, and clearly you’re not, since you whacked your head on an incredibly expensive chandelier and practically passed out in my arms—you’re welcome, by the way—only to nearly pass out again once we got outside.”

“I don’t think so,” Nancy sang, pushing Robin away from her and attempting to walk towards the car, only to stumble and fall onto the damp grass. “Fuck me,” she cursed, staring at the grass stains on her pastel pink pants.

“C’mon, up you go,” Robin encouraged, offering her hand to help Nancy up. “No use staying on the ground where you could also get hypothermia.”

Nancy, rather than get up, stared up at Robin, her big blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Why are you doing this? I mean…helping me? Making sure I get home safe.”

“Like I said, you probably have a concussion. If not checked out I’m pretty sure it can have serious damage to the brain, not to mention the headaches, the nausea, the dizziness, and the light sensitivity…”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Like you care what happens to me.”

“Of course I do, otherwise I’d have to find someone to go out with that actually cares about me, and god only knows no one’s banging down my door in order to spend more time with the school’s resident dyke,” Robin laughed, though there wasn’t an ounce of joy in her expression. She sighed, before joining Nancy on the cold grass. “So why do you let them get to you?”

Nancy leaned back, her elbows failing to brace her and instead landing flat on her back. “You mean Tommy and Carol?”

“And Steve, I guess.”

“I hate him. And them. I hate all of them.”

Robin coaxed Nancy up to a sitting position before crossing her legs and staring at the worn laces of her boots. “Well, coming here gave you the perfect chance to take part in your revenge by mainlining cheap vodka.”

Nancy’s face softened before she laughed, encouraging Robin to laugh alongside her. “Well, you know how it is…” she trailed off, closing her eyes.

“No, how is it?” Robin asked, looking over at Nancy. “Hey, Nancy, Nance, wake up…I told you not to go to sleep, your parents would have a warrant out for my arrest if they found out you died at a party because of me, c’mon..”

Nancy opened her eyes, exhaustion still lingering on her face. “Your eyes have a bit of gold in them,” she noted, before rolling over and vomiting.

Steve Harrington owed Robin more than just cash after this.

[noorahqar]

Hi, I recently found out you're Qar and I love your fics.

Can I ask about People Pleaser Sky and Angsty Twi and Depression Sky?

Hi ajscico!! I see you around a lot! Thank you and welcome to the blog officially, LOL.

I answered People Pleaser Sky in another ask. You can click here to look at that.

Angsty Twi is one of these docs where I have to do a little sleuthing to figure out what tf I was thinking. I specifically remember it being four ideas I'd written down for later. The first line is Four Angst. The second and third line... I can't tell whose POV it is, and it's driving me nuts:

It's strange, and undoubtedly awful, to be constantly surrounded by other people and yet feel profoundly alone. It's one of his more miserable thoughts. When he thinks it, the tiny little avatar of the Captain that's taken up residence in the corner of his brain doubles over laughing at how quintessentially edgy it is. Doubtlessly, the original would act just the same.

WHO IS THIS. WHO ARE YOU. WHY ARE YOU LONELY.

The fifth line is touch-starved Sky angst. The fourth line is the actual Twi Angst, and even that - I can't remember what I was thinking, LOL. I don't think I had a plan. It just says:

Twilight had grown up a feral child. Surely,

That's it. That's the Angsty Twi. I'm very unimpressed by my organizational skills. The actual angsty twilight is in "destroying your loved ones duo" - that's Twilight angst from the manga, him and Legend bonding over evaporating full villages they were attached to!

DEPRESSION SKY. This fic is my baby at current moment - Warriors and Twi notice that Sky's Loftwing is sad as fuck while being roped into helping build houses, despite Sky seeming to be okay. Cue them trying to force Sky to accept their love. It's fun. It'll probably be the next fic I post, although that'll probably take some time, LOL - I am still recovering from Life. Here's a snip, though!

“Well, that ain't good.” Twilight purses his lips. Warriors keeps petting the bird absently, neatly arranging her feathers into straighter lines. She hooks her giant beak around his shoulder. “I'll tell Sun about it. Sky's off recently, have ya noticed?” “I have, but I wasn't sure if I was imagining it,” Warriors says. He frowns thoughtfully. “Sky's normal and Sky's off are remarkably similar. I worry he's bottling something up.”  Crimson lets out a mournful little noise. Twilight's face twists into a concerned grimace. “…Do ya remember how Sky said Loftwings are extensions of their souls?” “I do,” Warriors says. Realization dawns in his eyes. “Wait, do you think…” “Yup.” They sit in silence for a moment, the laughter of others in the distance and rustle of the wind permeating it. Sky's nearby, in a meeting in the main village. Twilight had thought that he'd be happier in his own era, because he'd certainly looked it. The air here gave him a little more life.  “We should keep an eye on him,” Twilight suggests.  “Of course,” Warriors says. Crimson caws sadly again.

[citruslllad]

Love your qsmp au, it’s been haunting my brain for the past few hours. Jacob questioning his sanity makes me cackle. Love the concept of a character having a prominent person in their life being lost or replaced and having to find them. I’m particularly curious as to the dynamics Jacob has with the other qsmp members once he arrives on the island. Anyone they like, despise? How do they interact with a certain cat boy conspiracist and our resident eldritch care bear?

Also unrelated, love how Jo is just a concerned observer in all of this. His friend went from pretty okay mentally to “No Jo I’m telling you I’ve definitely had a roommate this whole time! You’ve met her in real life several times by now! Stop gaslighting me about the plushies I’m not a plush guy I wouldn’t buy these on my own. Fine, if there’s no roommate JO, then why is there a drawing tablet in that other room? There is a LIVE BIRD IN MY LIVING ROOM and yet I’ve never expressed interest in owning one. Worse yet, I haven’t MONETIZED IT?! THIS ISN’T FUNNY JOE MY LIFE HAS BECOME A TWILIGHT ZONE EPISODE”

ANON I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR THE INBOX RAMBLE <<<<33333

the thing is, they first realized something was off when they were on stream and chatting w/ friends, said something along the lines of "yeah haha it's been so quiet without Jaiden around, hope she's having a good time" and someone goes oh who's Jaiden? and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. at some point he's like we'll they'll HAVE to believe me if i bring them over and they all see her room and setup and stuff right? and then some of their buddies arrive and go lol Jo you had such a weird setup before you left and Jo's just going along with it like yeah haha I don't even remember it, it was a weird time in my life and Jacob is FUMING

regarding dynamics, focusing on Cellbit + Jacob first, I don't think they trust each other at ALL at first. they're both nice to each other for the sake of being polite, but they literally CanNot trust the other, Cellbit because last time he trusted an "ally" he became employee of the month, and Jacob because not trusting anyone on the island comes with the package. over time, they begin to bond over their shared stressful experience, but it's a while till then

(taking this ^^^ into account, Cellbit is secretly ECSTATIC to have Jacob around. not because of Jacob himself, but because they can remember everything about the outside world whereas Cellbit cannot. they bring him a small sense of closure)

he definitely get along better with some of the other members, though. the first people that come to mind are Slimecicle, Roier and Baghera. other than that, he doesn't exactly have all the time in the world to interact with everyone on the island, so he's mostly neutral (except for those he knows has willingly worked with the federation, like Foolish or Elq. he doesn't trust that in the slightest)

with Cucorucho it's a bit of a different story. they've never interacted with it, and all they know about it is from Cellbit, so it's safe to say they'd rather keep off of it's radar. when he DOES meet with it, however, he's very offput by it. they laugh at first, yes, because Cucorucho literally looks like a life sized stuffed animal, but he very quickly gets disturbed by it, something made to look so friendly and undeceiving being capable of so much. he isn't a fan.

(here are some refs i doodled while watching jaiden vods btw <3)

[hebuiltfive]

Just in case the last ask failed:

Sickness prompts:

snoozeville: [character] falls asleep somewhere that isn’t their bed. With Scott please

Thank you @janetm74! I hope this suffices!

Snoozeville (feat. Scott Tracy)

Scott was undoubtedly an early bird. He preferred sunrises over sunsets, and he found something refreshingly cleansing about early morning air. Whenever duty wasn’t calling him, Scott often found himself down in the gym, purpose-built on the island to cater to all their needs and to save the residents trips to the mainland every time they wanted to pump some iron. 

This morning was no different. 

Nor were the bags that he carried under his eyes, the dull throb of a headache just beginning to form or the feeling of limp muscles.

Perhaps burning the candle at both ends wasn’t the best idea these last few weeks. Rescue call after rescue call, a mountain of work for the business that kept everything afloat and then general insomnia on top of it all because God only knows why… Scott was tired. 

Of course, he could have slept through the morning if he really tried, but he had things to do, and a Scott who hadn’t managed to fit in a morning work-out was like a Virgil who had gone without coffee. So, yes, whilst he was beginning to feel sleepy now the birds had started their tweeting, Scott actually getting some sleep didn’t seem like his most favourite of options. Thus, the gym.

It was the aching, dull muscles that had Scott choosing the bench press over the treadmill once he’d limbered up as his first work-out of choice. The weights would help his body wake up, right? Somewhere in the depths of his mind he heard a voice, that sounded a lot like Gordon’s, telling him that his choice was a dumb one, but Scott chose not to listen. He was too tired to listen.

He loaded up the barbell, choosing weights that were just under his normal tolerance (because he wasn’t a complete idiot, give him some credit), and laid himself down on the bench. The lights of the gym were set to a soft glow, bright enough to light up the space but not too bright to blind him, though that had been considered as an option to help him wake up. 

Now, lying there, he was thankful he decided against that. Scott breathed deeply as a pain shot across his forehead. Perhaps he should have taken some painkillers before coming down here. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come down here at all. Ugh, whatever. He was too tired to care. Besides Scott was certain the aches would pass in a moment and then he could start his work-out… in a minute… he just wanted to close his eyes for a second first…

“Scott! Are you insane?”

To his credit, Scott did not jump up and hit his head on the barbell that was still cradled on the stand above him. He did, however, jolt awake.

Awake? Hold on…

“Actually, don’t answer that.” His brother continued, coming to to a stand beside the bench. Virgil hovered a scanner over him as Scott blinked his eyes into focus.

“… Virg…?”

“How many times have I told you not to use the gym unless you’ve had a proper rest before?”

Scott’s brain had a hard time catching up. Had he… fallen asleep? Impossible. Surely he hadn’t been that tired. “I was only resting my eyes for a few seconds.”

“Under the weights?”

“He’s been in here for over an hour.” The unmistakeable tone of EOS echoed through the hall from Virgil’s handheld monitor. “I told you he was acting recklessly again.”

“Hold on, you used EOS to spy on me?” Scott’s attempt to sound offended fell flat due only to his still sleepy head.

“Not spy…” Virgil quickly clarified, his eyes darting to the weights on the end of the bar in guilt. “She woke me up after seeing here and… This isn’t about me. Stop deflecting, Scott!”

Scott sighed, carefully sitting himself up despite his body’s protests to just stay there for a little longer. He didn’t dare chance a glance at his brother, who’s eyes Scott could already feel were staring him down.

“Bed. Now.”

“It’s seven in the morning, Virg…”

“I don’t care if it was midday.”

“Virg, I am fine.”

“These readouts don’t back up your theory. You need to sleep, Scott.”

Scott knew when to pick his battles, especially with medic-mode Virgil. Denying the evidence that was now being put before him — ouch, those are a lot of red areas — he knew that this was not a battle he would win. 

“Fine. I’ll… try and get some rest.”

But Scott didn’t move.

Virgil waited a moment. “Now, Scott.”

A sharp intake of breath and Scott was back. Had he almost just fallen asleep sitting up? Yikes. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I just.. need a minute.”

“Do I have to carry you?” Virgil lightly swatted at his shoulder. “Do not fall back to sleep. You’ll fall backwards and hit your head on the bar.”

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Scott.” Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated. “Do not start. Get your butt to bed and, for the love of God, please stay there until you’ve had a decent amount of sleep.”

[elejah-wonderland]

elejah_au

_time travel au_fanfic

a/n: I think that finally I got a name for this fic that was here introduced in random snippets.

Finding Forever

_an epilogue will follow this one

*

Mystic Falls, Fell's Church Graveyard

"De cineribus ad corpus eduxi te nunc!" Bonnie waved up her hands to the circle. A zillion magical particles surged like a whirlwind in the center. Like the phoenix bird, so did Elijah rose from the flames.

He breathed in deep, looking at the witch in front of him confused.

"Hello," Bonnie muttered, pointing to the side of the circle, "uhm- here are some clothes"

Elijah picked up the clothes and swiftly put them on. And then, he felt suddenly sickly and fell on down on his knees. He held his head in his hands.

"Here. Have some of my blood" Bonnie offered the Original a small potion bottle. "You need it. It will help you clear the pain from a spell I made to clear some of your memories."

Elijah took the tiny bottle and downed the potent Bennett blood.

*

Elsewhere

Boarding House

"Did you hear this? Kai is back? JEREMY!" Damon said, focusing on hearing what is said below them.

"What the Hell?" Elena turned around stunned.

Meanwhile, in the study, Jeremy dragged Kai in, holding the astrolabe. "You got to send me back."

"I'm half dead." Kai said breathing heavy.

"I got to stop Bonnie" Jeremy shot at the witch.

"Even if I could do that, she made sure noone could break the timeline again. And the ancestors are behind her." Kai said.

"I can't believe this." Jeremy pushed Kai aside.

"Believe what you want. The Bennetts allowed it. They need Elijah. The four evil Gods of the Undetworld are let loose." Kai said.

"You're lying." Jeremy sifted angrily.

"Why do you think the Bennetts let me free?" Kai said.

*

In Fell's Church, Bonnie had to cut debriefing Elijah short.

"Craziness in Mystic Falls never stopped. I got to go. Your family still owns the Mansion - here is a phone with our numbers, as well as your sisters. Kol, too. Though I didn't tell them I'd bring you back. They would probably not agree. This was my call. I got to go. Later" Bonnie apologized for having to run.

Elijah straightened his sleeves and after a moment to himself made his way to the Mikaelson residence.

There, he pulled his phone out of the jeans back pocket. He inhaled sharply. He wasn't ready to face anyone just yet.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply once again, allowing his brain time to process all the emotions that hurled back in explosively, mixed in with the new memories, memories he had of his time spent with Elena in 1988.

Flashback

New York, 1988

"What has you staring at me like there's no tomorrow?" Elijah said.

"It's just - you." Elena said.

"Care to elaborate" Elijah's lips curled a curious smile up.

"I love you. And I wish I can have forever with you." Elena said, sighing inwardly. She stood up and walked over to him. She took his face with her hands and kissed him deep and hard.

"Elijah" Elena muttered with a burning throat as she staggered in the room, breaking the Original's thoughts. She wanted so desperately to run into his arms, squeeze him tight, kiss him zealously. But - there was the cloud above them. The cloud of covertness. No matter that what she had done was absilutely unintentional on her part, she knew him all too well. He hated being lied to. Another breath shuddered through her, "Elijah - I"

What was there to say. His quiet demeanour spoke louder than words.

She was guilty of erasing his memories of her, of them, everything that had happened between them from 1988. But like Bonnie had explained. The timeline was not to be shifted.

"I know what I said, but the message Bonnie left me that night was ademand. I had to do it." Elena said.

"Yes. She said so." Elijah said in his very distinctive low voice.

"It was the toughest decision I ever had to make. It killed me. I missed you. I missed us. My heart ached like crazy. And then Freya found a letter you wrote to me. It blew me away - because - the last time we saw one another was in Willoughby. And you left for New Orleans." Elena paused for a split second. She tilted her head, her heart thrumming warmly, citing part of it, "You had my heart spellbound the moment I have set my eyes on you."

Elijah's warm brown eyes glistened at the memory of the letter. And the night he wrote it. The night, he had let all of his feelings he had kept bottled up for such a long time loose. Or rather put them in order.

"Please, say something," Elena narrowed the gap between them, "Elijah?"

_to be continued

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Penguins on Parade

Edgar Allan Poe: i feel like there's been way too much drama here lately Poe: too many cranks just venting obsessions and paranoias! Poe: can't we just hear a nice, simple, old-fashioned horror story? HP Lovecraft: i-i've got one Poe: ...son of a bitch

Poe: ok howard let's hear it August Derleth: wooo! yeah! Derleth: go off Howard, you got this! Lovecraft: y-yeah ok Derleth: a-grade storytelling, right here! modern master!

Lovecraft: a premise occurred to me one night while in the throes of fitful sleep Derleth: yes! yes! tossing and turning! sweat that plot out Lovecraft: about an ill-fated expedition to the Antarctic Derleth: cold as ice! chilly like my willy, baby Lovecraft: p-please stop

Poe: ah, the South Pole Poe: a promising location for a doomed voyage Poe: not to spoil anything but Poe: they all drown in the magnetic whirlpool, right? Lovecraft: Poe: that resides at the bottom of the world, right? Lovecraft: Poe: perhaps they're slaughtered by hostile peoples of the inner earth?

Lovecraft: n... Lovecraft: no, there's a continent there Poe: oh, a fantasy story? fun!

Lovecraft: even the beginning of this terrible journey is fraught with peril Lovecraft: for they must encounter that most loathsome of all birds Lovecraft: THE PENGUIN Clive Barker: Barker: ah ha ha Barker: oh man Barker: let's fucking go, curtain up

Dean Koontz: i like penguins :) Koontz: stephen let me watch happy feet Koontz: it was funny Koontz: except for the seal Stephen King: we had to fast-forward past the seal King: and the orcas King: pretty much the entire second half Koontz: i like when they dance

Lovecraft: b-but these are no ordinary penguins Lovecraft: the average penguin is black AND white Lovecraft: a hideous mixture in itself Lovecraft: yet these massive creatures are ALBINO

Lovecraft: so pale as to be mistaken for snowdrifts at a distance Lovecraft: you might say they are passing for white Poe: uhh Derleth: shhh, let him cook

Lovecraft: t-the group found a perplexing frozen specimen Lovecraft: i-it was only when they discovered the ruins later that they realized it was a being of great intelligence Lovecraft: for, you see Lovecraft: the thing had no skull to measure

Lovecraft: millions of years ago, the Old Ones flourished upon the continent Lovecraft: they built a society dedicated to pure scientific achievement Lovecraft: yet, in the cruelest irony Lovecraft: they were overwhelmed by sheer brute strength Barker: lol Barker: get owned nerds

Lovecraft: i-it was a most grand civilization Lovecraft: accomplished universities. safe to slither the streets at night Lovecraft: and then a certain kind of creature Lovecraft: i shall not say whom Lovecraft: took over Lovecraft: and the property values... they plummeted

Derleth: okay look i'm getting a little sick of all of you calling Howard a bigot Derleth: i keep telling you he's simply a man of his time Lovecraft: the shoggoths were faceless slaves of the deepest black hue Lovecraft: possessing a fiendish malevolence to compensate for their lack of a brain Derleth: Derleth: oh and i suppose you're just going to take THAT out of context

Lovecraft: most chilling of all the shoggoths' attributes was their infernal piping Lovecraft: it imitated the structure of the Old Ones' music Lovecraft: but it was as if they spoke rather than harmonized it Lovecraft: and inserted coarse references to anatomy

Lovecraft: there were indeed some horrors in this house Lovecraft: and they were wet and gushy Lovecraft: no bucket or mop would suffice

Lovecraft: they escaped with their lives, yet Danford was tormented by visions of the shoggoth unto madness Lovecraft: for knowledge of the unknown has a terrible price, and death and ignorance are our only mercies Lovecraft: the end Derleth: Barker: Poe: Koontz: King: King: so, Dean, I have this DVD of Norm of the North

John W. Campbell: say, that's a pretty good yarn, but couldn't more happen with the shapeshifting Campbell: what if the shoggoth was able to fully mimic its human prey Lovecraft: fully ASSIMILATED among men? Lovecraft: there is cosmic horror, sir, and then there is simply bad taste

Thanks to guest writer my pal Morbiose for help with this thread!

[blade-liger-4ever]

RWBY X Transformers Partnerships 1: Qrow Branwen and Wheeljack - Death from Above

"I gotta warn ya, pal. I'm a bad luck charm."

"Bad luck charm, huh? Let's see if we can put that to use."

"...Pardon?"

"Scientifically speaking, your little power would work on everything EXCEPT for where you're standing, right? So, if you were to just sit on my shoulder, or ride along in my chest compartment, and we go behind enemy lines..."

*a lightbulb clearly turning on in Qrow's brain* "I like the way you think, Sports Car."

Shortly after the portal shenanigans, I think Wheeljack would find himself in Vale. Once he wakes up, he'd transform and try to contact the others, staying in V-mode while he scans his surroundings. Somehow, he picks up on a signal that has both a similarity and a dissimilarity to energon, and needing to keep himself functioning, Wheeljack would investigate and find a shipment of Dust in the dockyards. Confused but unable to resist that scientific urge to know how these weird rocks work, Wheeljack rips open a cargo container and lets some refined Dust fall into his hand. After he's scanned it and found that they're (relatively) safe to ingest, he'd shrug and down the mouthful.

The catch? It was Lightning Dust. And he just ate like thirty of these suckers.

Cue Wheeljack now hyperactive and doing all manner of scans on the shipments of Dust, quickly figuring out that Dust shares many of its compounds with energon and that, while obviously having side effects on Cybertronians, it won't kill them in the long or short term. However, Wheeljack's transformation and rapid running between different cargo containers has alerted the authorities to his presence, and after a mild confrontation, the Wrecker scientist takes off at a much higher speed than normal.

He's driven about thirty miles before the lightning aspect of his meal wears off, and as he finds a place to recover and figure out what to do, a crow flies into him just as he transforms. Looking down, Wheeljack's surprised to see the bird turn into a human male, not to mention radiating a strange energy. Knowing protocol for human-Cybertronian meetings is likely a lost cause here, Wheeljack bends down and picks up the man to make sure he hasn't suffered a concussion - then badgers him about how he transformed and is perpetually generating a weird energy.

After a few minutes of snarking, questioning, and legitimate conversation, Wheeljack learns this human is named Qrow (with a Q, the man stressed), and is a Huntsman trying to learn what's still going on at the remains of Beacon Academy. Figuring he can help and knowing he needs a guide if he's to find the 'Bots, Wheeljack convinces Qrow to let him drive the Huntsman there. On the drive, Qrow casually explains about Grimm, Aura, Semblances, and the level of technology they have, listening with interest as the Wrecker explains about Cybertronians, their planet, the war, the factions, as well as the Wreckers themselves.

Though they don't usually bond easily with people, Qrow and Wheeljack find they have similar mindsets, and a friendship quickly forms as they scout the remains of Beacon. Blasting and slashing some Grimm on the way in and out, Qrow decides to take Wheeljack back to Patch with him to figure out how to find his friends - and get him Dust without breaking over fifty international laws.

When together, Qrow and Wheeljack tend to be the resident snarkers, always managing to annoy the strictest of people while endearing themselves to the kids, especially the likes of Ruby and, to an extent, Mercury and Neptune. They trade banter as if they were old friends, watching each other's back from the ground and sky respectively, and work together on weapons' projects. Wheeljack can't help but be impressed by Qrow's weapon, Harbinger, praising the ingenuity of it and lightly ribbing him about how his daughter inherited his brains.

Coincidentally, this would probably be the moment Ruby discovers her true heritage, and since Wheeljack got a scan of their DNA, there's no going back from the Wrecker's slip. This is the first time their friendship is strained, but more surprising is that Wheeljack finds that he's the one who has to make someone face the truth. He picks up Qrow before the man can go for the bottle, and after a short argument, Wheeljack points out that Qrow's been throwing his life away and letting his own daughter live a lie. Sure, it doesn't matter if it's him, but what happens to the one who looks up to him if he dies?

"Fact is, Sunshine, Ruby's been following in your footsteps since she could waddle. You can mourn, you can drink, but you'd better be ready to right things between you, 'cause otherwise one of you is gonna lose the other, and whoever's left is gonna be kicking themselves until they find a way to join you in the next life."

This manages to get through to Qrow, but he points out that Wheeljack was oddly specific in that dressing down. Wheeljack has to admit that Smokescreen had been following him around for a few weeks one time, and after one mission nearly got them both killed, he realized just how much he had to clean up his own act. After this moment of bonding, the two become like brothers, spending time with Ruby and Smokescreen while still kicking Decepticon tailpipe and fighting off Salem's forces - aided greatly by Wheeljack's alt-mode and Qrow's bad luck power, something that never ceases to wow their two charges.

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

And there's our first partnership, people! Much like the team attack names, each partnership will get a nickname. I chose "Death from Above" because of how TFP Wheeljack tends to drop down on his enemies, and because of Qrow's super-move with Harbinger. Dunno when I'll get to the next match up, but I've got a lot of possibilities right now, so we'll see who comes after these two troublemakers.

Until next time, folks!