#seriously though come on guys it's stated clearly in my pinned. are you lost? do you know you walked into my house?

[seeyouonsaturn]

I wanna hear more about the NHG but you KNOW I wanna hear about Trip and Trick please tell me everything you have for them I love them they are everything to me I'm so glad nothing bad ever happens to them 💖

HEEHEE. Ah yes, my gunshots to keep the rent down <3

Tripwire and Trickshot are split-spark twins, and as such they were together from the very moment they first came online. Rather than grow into their own individuals and forge their own paths, they formed a rather... unhealthy codependency on each other. Neither of them has ever spent a day without the other, they are practically attached at the hip. No bot has ever met only one of them without also meeting the other half.

Given that their personalities are, let's say, eccentric at best - and that's the polite way to put it - they often clash with other bots. They decided pretty early on that they don't need other bots though, not when they've got each other. They were brought into this world with their perfect match already included - why would they ever want to settle for some other, clearly subpar option?

Don't be fooled by their unhinged antics though, these two mechs have earned their place in the NHG, which accepts only the very best of the best into its ranks. When it comes to their combined skill sets of setting traps and blowing scrap to smithereens, Trick and Trip are near unstoppable, and they'll laugh as they watch you get blown to pieces. Trust me, you don't want to be on their bad side.

You're on their good side, though? You're practically family already! They're like a pair of really odd but fun big brothers who'll make any party a hoot, and will without hesitation be your personal bodyguards if you ever need it. Hope you're not opposed to getting involved in the mother of all prank wars though!

In present day, nobody is really sure what exactly their relationship status is. If you ask, they'll give you a different answer every time. Their team members have learned not to question it (besides, do they even want to know?) All anyone's got are rumors. Many, no doubt, started by Trickshot and Tripwire personally. They collect every single tabloid article speculating about it on a wall of fame in their shared berthroom.

(And then nothing bad ever happens because there never is any war or anything like that, what are you even talking about)

[slythergirlimagines]

Well Why Don’t You?- Zuko x Reader

Summary: You and Zuko constantly dance around each other, and Sokka and Toph have had enough. Fluff, with a tiny bit of angst!! Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine!) Words: 3,398 Request: yes

**** let me know if I you all want a masterlist!

Well Why Don’t You?

The first party Zuko hosts is a year after the war. It is a “welcome to Fire Nation” party, to honor the new members of one of Zuko’s outreach programs.

One year after the war, and everything is slowly starting to feel normal. Your parents had died before the war began, and having no where else to go, you ended up sticking close to Zuko, your best friend.

Zuko had brought up the idea first, claiming that he had no one left either, and it had really worked out quite well for the both of you. You gave Zuko advice and opinions with an honesty no one else would. Zuko offered you a place of belonging and a deep friendship.

Though you missed your parents and your friends, you had never felt quite so happy as you did with Zuko. You knew a lot of that happiness had to do with your feelings for him.

Zuko had joined your side and won you over first. You believed him before anyone else did, and as time progressed, you slowly started opening up to each other. You often teamed up in battle and just naturally gravitated towards each other. Toph and Sokka had teased you about it relentlessly. You had realized you loved him when Azula struck him with lightning, when you had almost lost him.

Then Zuko had healed and had become Firelord, and you hadn’t said a word to him about your feelings. Now you are really starting to regret it as you watch him dance with Mai. They had broken up a long time ago, but that didn’t make you feel better as you watch him pull her tighter to him and whisper in her ear. Angrily, you slam your finished drink on the table.

“Another.” You demand, and Sokka looks at you with troubled eyes.

“Y/n, you’ve been drinking a lot more than usual, are you sure you can handle another?” He asks you, brows furrowed. You must be really obvious if Sokka was noticing something wrong.

“Obviously it has everything to do with Lover Boy and Mai.” Toph says, inclining her head in the direction of the dance floor. For a blind girl, Toph really does see everything.

“No it doesn’t.” You hiss.

“Ooh you hit a nerve.” Sokka giggles, tipping his drink back. You aim a hard kick to his shin. Sokka chokes on his drink, and you take a little pleasure in his sputtering. Toph pats him a few times on the back, but she’s laughing too hard to really help.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry. I won’t say anything else about your all encompassing love.” Sokka says.

“All encompassing love for who?” Zuko asks, head cocked to the side like a puppy. Mai is there, arm wound tightly through his. She smiles at you, but the expression looks forced on her usually bored face.

“For wine.” You cover smoothly. “I was just about to get another drink and Sokka was teasing me for being an alcoholic. I showed him though.”

You nod at Sokka, who now sits rubbing his shin.

“That’s my girl.” Zuko smiles. “Guys, you all remember Mai?”

Everyone at the table nods, and exchanges pleasantries. Zuko pulls out a chair at the table and seats Mai, and then takes the chair in between you both.

The wine is catching up with you, and your head is fuzzy, even fuzzier with Zuko so close. You want to kiss him, to hold his hand, to be with him. All of that is impossible with Mai next to him. Of course Mai is beautiful, and of course that’s who Zuko would go for. Mai is a badass and she’s controlled. She’d be the perfect match for Zuko and his mood swings.

You stand up too quickly suddenly desperate to get away, and knock over your empty wine glass. You wobble in place before regaining your balance.

“Y/n?” Zuko asks, concern etching his face. “Are you alright?”

“Fine!” You say in a voice that tells everyone you are absolutely not fine. “I’m just off to get some wine! Haha that rhymes.”

Your awkwardness combined with the alcohol has just made a painfully embarrassing moment that you’ll never expunge from your brain.

Sokka bursts into drunken laughter like a child, and Toph rolls her eyes. You barley manage to get yourself out of the party before you start crying.

————————————————-

The next party Zuko hosts, you are prepared to make a move. Toph has taken to giving you weekly pep talks, and she’s bolstered your confidence a lot.

You had picked out the perfect dress, a black gown with a plunging back. The bodice was tight against your figure, and emphasized your curves. You spent all day creating a dramatic makeup look and pinning up your hair. You knew you looked good, hopefully Zuko would see it too.

You take up your usual spot at the table with Toph and Sokka. Katara and Aang were hardly ever at these things, too busy running their academy or fixing the world. Toph and Sokka are a bit more like you, with no where to go.

Toph and Sokka are starting a drinking game, and you’re too zoned out to really listen to the rules. You’re eager to see Zuko, and even more eager to have him see you.

“With the rate she’s going, we’re going to die of alcohol poisoning.” You hear Toph say.

“What?” You ask. Toph smiles sheepishly, and looks to Sokka to say something.

“Well...” Sokka says, and his face says that he is absolutely trying every way to get out of this.

“Are you playing a drinking game about me?!” You demand. Their smiles give it all away, and suddenly you feel rather affronted.

“What are the rules??” You smack your hand down on the table.

“Obviously it has something to do with being the most beautiful girl in the room.” Zuko says, smiling at you. He places a kiss to your cheek, and then sits down. You could literally explode on the spot, but even in your high you don’t miss Sokka and Toph taking a synchronized drink.

So it was about you and Zuko then.

“Thank you.” You tell Zuko, and you can’t help the warmth that colors your tone. Who gave him the right to be so charming? You knew this was his normal diplomatic persona, the one he used to flatter his subjects. You could pretend it was real for a night.

Sokka and Toph drink again, and this time is not subtle at all. Zuko notices, and quirks his eyebrows at them.

“So what are the rules?” He asks, truly perplexed.

“Don’t have any.” Toph says. Zuko rolls his eyes, but leaves them to their own game.

You’re about to ask Zuko to dance, when an advisor comes up to him.

“Lord Zuko, I have someone who would really love to meet you.” The old man says. The person who wants to meet Zuko is clearly the beautiful young woman trying her best to pretend she isn’t watching the exchange.

Zuko notices this too, and smiles at his advisor.

“Of course, give me just a moment.” He says. You’re torn between two feelings. On one hand, you love Zuko’s devotion to his people, but on the other, jealousy is eating at you.

Zuko smiles at you softly.

“You really do look lovely.” He says. “Don’t go anywhere guys, I’ll be right back.”

You watch him walk away, with a heavy heart. It seemed like nothing would truly be enough to capture his attention.

“Drink!” Sokka calls, indicating your wistful glances at Zuko. You drink until your glass is empty.

————————————————

You don’t go to the third party. Every inch of your body hurts, and your head is pounding. You think you might have a fever, but you don’t want to call anyone in to check. You absolutely despise being sick, and sometimes you like to just wallow in your sorrows.

Toph comes in to check on you before the party. She’s dressed in a lovely green gown, and a gold headpiece.

“Toph, you’re gorgeous.” You croak. “Stay away from me though, I’ll get you sick.”

Toph gives you a pitying look.

“You sound awful.” She says.

“I feel it.”

“Do you want me to send somebody in to check on you? No offense, y/n, but you actually look like you could be dying.”

“Thank you Toph, I really wanted to hear that.” You mutter into your pillow.

There is silence for a few seconds as Toph debates what to do.

“Seriously Toph, I’m ok. Go have fun.” Then sitting up, you tease her. “Tell me all about Sokka’s reaction when he sees you in that dress.”

Toph blushes, and hurries away like you expected her too. Content at your privacy, you fall back on your bed to get some sleep.

You had only just fallen into a fitful sleep, when you are awoken by someone stroking your face.

Zuko sits in your bed in his party robes, looking more concerned than you’d ever seen him.

“Zuko?” You croak. Maybe this is a fever dream or a hallucination. There’s no way that Zuko left his party to come sit with you.

“Hey.” He says softly. “Toph told me you were sick. I sent for a healer a few minutes ago.”

He brushes a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face and you groan internally. How could he ever want to be with you after seeing you like this?

“Get away from me, you’re going to get sick!” You protest when you realize that he’s sitting too close.

Zuko rolls his eyes, and moves closer just to spite you.

“I don’t care about any of that, y/n.” He says. He leaves his hand on the side of your face, and his thumb strokes your cheek bone. “You’re really hot.” He says.

You know he doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but in your feverish state his words are funny.

“No you’re the hot one.” You say, giggling. Zuko smiles, but he also looks more concerned than before.

“You’re delirious.” He says. The healer knocks on the door, and Zuko hurries to let him in.

The healer makes him stand away from you, as he gets to work. Zuko paces, watching everything with his amber eyes.

You’ve never really noticed how beautiful his scar is, before right now.

“Thank you, y/n.” He says, and you blush.

You definitely hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“My lord, I think she’ll be ok after some rest. We just need to break the fever.” Zuko winces, and you think that he must be remembering the time he was sick in Ba Sing Se. He had told you about it long ago, about how painful it was.

“Alright.” Zuko says, “Thank you for seeing her. I’ll stay with her.”

“My lord, I am perfectly happy to stay...” the healer trails off at Zuko’s face.

“I’m not leaving her.” Zuko says, tone final. The healer bows his head, and starts instructing Zuko.

“Keep the cloth cold, and keep her under the blankets. I’ll come by to check every few hours. The best thing for her to do is sweat it out.”

You hear the door close, and then Zuko sits beside you on the bed again. You hadn’t realized that you had closed your eyes.

Zuko’s hands replace the healers, and he starts pressing the cold cloth against your forehead.

“What about your party?” You croak.

“More important things for me to be doing.” Zuko says. You are ill, quite possibly delirious, but you could swear you hear some deeper meaning in his words.

——————————————————

The fourth party Sokka and Toph are armwrestling, and you are keeping score. You all are by far the loudest table, and you know that if it wasn’t for your status as war heroes, you would have been kicked out long ago.

Zuko has been floating around tables all night, shaking hands and kissing babies. The people love him, and they see him for the great ruler he is. You’re happy for him, and you’re proud. But you also miss him.

Zuko finds his way over to you all during round 8. Sokka is only up by one point, and the narrow margin has really been a blow to his pride. You’ve decided to call a winner at round 9, so this victory really determines the outcome. You hate how into their stupid game you are.

Toph is just edging out Sokka when Zuko’s hand touches your back. He lets it trail slowly upwards and cup the back of your neck, thumb rubbing in slow circles.

“Who’s winning?” He asks lowly, to not disturb the serious concentration. You’ve never been more turned on in your whole life.

“It’s a toss up right now.” You say, obviously flustered. “If Sokka wins this round, he’s the winner, but if Toph wins we go into sudden death.”

“Mmm.” Zuko says close to your ear. Goosebumps explode down your body, and you fight a shiver. You glance over at him, and you lock eyes.

Is he looking at your lips? Is he leaning closer? Am I?

“Victory!” Toph cries, slamming Sokka’s arm into the table.

Your moment with Zuko is broken as you turn to them.

“That’s a tie. Round 9.” You say. You turn back to Zuko with a smile, and find one mirrored on his face. He looks happy, you think. More content than he has in a long while.

“Y/n?” A cocky voice asks you. You turn to find one of Zuko’s youngest advisors standing there. He is around your age and rather handsome. One of the types that knows it too.

“Dance with me?” He smirks, holding out a hand.

“Sorry.” Zuko says, with faux politeness. He drops his arm around your shoulders and curls you into his side. “We just can’t spare her. She’s our scorekeeper.”

His arm is holding you tight against him, possessively. Your whole body is fuzzy again as you smile at Zuko.

You turn back to his advisor and shrug.

“No one else can do it.” You say by way of explanation.

Zuko doesn’t move his arm the rest of the night, and neither do you.

————————————————-

Sokka and Toph are done with the games. You and Zuko had been dancing around each other for years now and it was really starting to get annoying. They couldn’t even enjoy getting drunk at parties anymore without one of you looking longingly at the other all night.

That’s why they were currently holed up in an unused advising room discussing plans.

“We’ve got to do something, Sokka. It’s not even fun to drink anymore.” Toph cries, slamming a fist on the table.

“Tell me about.” Sokka says. “All they do is drool over each other.”

“You’re the master strategy guy, let’s come up with a plan. There’s got to be something we can do.” Toph taps her foot rapidly against the ground.

Sokka sits in deep thought for a minute, hand rubbing his jaw. His blue eyes are far away as he considers several options.

“Well, jealousy didn’t work either time they were around other people. Zuko was still too chicken when y/n got all dolled up, and aside from locking them up together I just don’t know what will break their stubborn minds.” Sokka groans.

Suddenly, he and Toph both jump up.

“That’s it!” Toph says. “New mission, find a door that locks from the outside and lock those idiots up.”

————————————————

The fifth party Zuko hosts, you rewear the black gown. You liked it, and Zuko had called you beautiful when you wore it. Maybe tonight it could be your lucky charm.

It’s Zuko’s birthday, and you had managed to get Aang and Katara here as a surprise, and they were going to stay the entire weekend. Iroh was also going to come stay, and you had planned a smaller private party for tomorrow. You knew Zuko would be thrilled to spend some seeing his friends, and actually getting to spend some time with them.

You were just finishing spraying yourself with perfume, when Toph comes barreling into your room.

“Y/n, quick it’s Zuko!” You are in instant worry mode as you follow her out.

“What’s happened Toph? Is he alright?” You question.

Toph leads you through the winding corridors, and into a back part of the palace.

“Toph!” You demand as you come to a stop in front of a door you’ve never seen.

Sokka stands there, dressed in his finest blue party outfit. Toph is in her usual green.

“You guys? What’s going on. Where’s Zuko? Is he alright?” You question.

“He will be.” Toph says from behind you. Sokka opens up the door, and before you can ask anything else, Toph shoves you inside and the door slams shut.

Instead of falling onto the ground, something warm and hard catches you. Arms wrap around you to steady you, and you can instantly tell it’s Zuko.

“Zuko? What’s going on?” You ask him. “Are you ok? Toph said-”

“They did the same to me.” He chuckles. Your eyes are adjusting to the darkness, and you can just make out his smile. “I think we’re being set up.”

“Oh.” You say, as calmly as possible.

“Yep! And you’re not coming out until you talk about your feelings.” Toph says. “Gonna be weird to have a birthday party with no birthday boy. So you better make it quick.”

Zuko still has his arms around you, and you find that you haven’t moved yours either. You’re so close that you can feel his body heat.

“Zuko.” You whisper, softly. “I’m sorry they’re ruining your birthday.”

You can’t say that you feel that badly about having some alone time with Zuko, but you feel the need to share it all the same.

“Don’t be.” He whispers back, head lowering. “This is exactly where I want to be anyways.”

Your face breaks out into a grin as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yeah?” You ask.

“Yeah.” His lips are on yours immediately after, and there’s no more time for talking.

Zuko pulls you as close as he can, pressing hot kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

“This is my favorite dress.” He says, running a hand over it appreciatively. “I always thought about how I’d tear it off of you.” He growls and then brings his lips back to yours.

In between passionate kisses you manage to respond.

“Then why don’t you?”

The invitation seems to be all he needs, because his hands are suddenly everywhere. They leave warm tingling trails wherever they touch, and you think you might be in heaven. Zuko’s hands deftly find the zipper, and he’s got it halfway down when the door is thrown open.

You and Zuko blink guiltily into the bright light of the hallway, and you can just make out the horror on Toph and Sokka’s faces.

“I did not think it would work this well.” Toph says, thoughtfully.

Sokka simply looks disgusted at the whole thing, and shudders.

“This room is occupied.” Zuko says, winking at you. He closes the door with a well aimed kick and you all are alone again.

“Hi.” You whisper, smile too wide for your face.

“Hi.” Zuko says. He leans down and kisses you again, a little less hungry than before. He takes his time, really exploring your mouth with his tongue.

You’ve never loved him as much as you do right now, in this tiny closet.

“Zuko.” You say, pulling back from the kiss. “I love you.”

Zuko pulls your face up to look into his eyes.

“I love you too. So much.” He says, and then he kisses you again and again.

“We better go.” You say, almost sadly. “People are going to start missing you.”

“I don’t care.” He growls, nipping at your lips.

“I have a suggestion.” You say, coyly. You stand on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. “Why don’t we make an appearance, and if you’re really good, we’ll sneak away and finish what we started.”

Maybe Zuko hugs his friends and promises to see them tomorrow. Maybe you stay at the party for all of ten minutes. Maybe Zuko all but carries you away. And maybe, for years to come, you and Zuko find yourselves in the habit of getting stuck in tight spaces.

A/n: Wow two in one night! I hope you enjoyed reading this story! I’m going to try to get through as many requests as I can this weekend, so keep an eye out. If you want to request something, please do! My asks and inbox are always open! I hope I tagged everyone who asked, but if I didn’t, please let me know and I’ll add you! As always you can find my work under the tag slythergirlimagines!

Taglist: @galacticamidala @a-random-queer-kid @taeeemin @realimbo @samsmultifandomblogs

@fire1ordzuzu @shortmexicangirl

[heyheyloki]

Playboy

Summary: Reader moves into Peter’s apartment building with an unpredictable start to an abnormal friendship.

Peter Parker x M!Reader

Requested? Yes.

Word count: 3311

Warnings; mentions of sex, drug use.

Your meeting with the infamous Peter Parker was, well, anything but normal. You didn’t mean to come off like you did, he just caught you off guard was all. Not to mention being caught off guard just makes you defensive, even if you don’t mean to be. 

It was late into the afternoon. Parents were starting to come home from work, kids were out of school, people were starting their late night plans. For Peter, he just planned to stay in tonight, especially with that Spanish test coming up tomorrow. He needed to be prepared. He needed to study in a peaceful and non-disturbing environment. Normally, that was achievable. He would usually have no probably aside from his Aunt May coming in and telling him that dinner was ready. Today though, he had way bigger problems than just his aunt.

Peter sat at his desk, his head kept up by the palm of his hand. His eyes rolled over lines of ink over and over again, sometimes repeatedly. The ink that was seeped into the notebook paper was nothing more than a few words and then the meanings of them in English. 

He was relaxed, calm. That was until a sudden noise shook his body alive, jumping up as if sitting in the back of a school bus during a bump in the road. He had to piece together his now scrambled thoughts, his lips letting past some quick breaths as he tried to understand what just happened. Though, when it hit him, his brows furrowed in deep confusion. Music. Loud and heavily explicate music pounded against his ear drums like someone was banging pots and pans right against his ears. 

He thought the controller of such music would lower it soon after, unaware of how loud it would be when connected to their speakers. But after a while, maybe thirty minutes or so, the music never went down. Never getting any lower and knowing Peter’s aunt won’t be home until another thirty minutes, he got irrational. Frustrated with his splitting skull he marched over, the sound it was coming from only just across from his own apartment. 

He froze for a moment. He knew the person that lived here. They were nothing more than a simple old couple, probably closer to their eighties at least. He had no knowledge of anyone moving in or out, or if the people that lived here had any kids or grandkids. Still, he was determined to find out. He knocked a few times, the first few not being heard making him more rough with his knuckles against the wooden door.

Then, the door knob started to twist. He was prepared to deal with a little kid, maybe even a teenager that was going through that weird faze in their life. What he didn’t expect was this guy that looked about his age, maybe even a year older. He was tall, about two inches taller than Peter. He had messy, an almost bed headed locks on the top of his head. Pursed between his lips was a small blunt that looked newly lit. He didn’t have much of anything on, honestly, all he wore was a pair of boxer briefs that were clearly wrinkled. Though, with his exposed body came the sight of a few tattoos that littered his upper arm down his wrist on his left arm. 

“Can I help ya?” He asked, his voice deep and rough, like he almost got done taking a nap. Though, the way he spoke was clear he was native to New York unlike the older couple before he held a southern accent. 

“Uh, I was wondering if you could turn your music down? I’m trying to study.” Peter asked, his confused features noticeable to the one he spoke too.

The guy in front of Peter took a quick hit, aiming it up in the air. “It’ll be off in about two minutes or so. We were just about done anyway.”

“We?” Peter questioned, wondering if he had another new neighbor that he had no idea about.

He watched as the unknown guy opened his mouth, almost like he was going to answer Peter’s question. That was until a new voice came into the mix, a giggle, from a woman. It was only confirmed when a girl with dark hair slipped under the guy’s arm that rested on the door. Her clothes were disheveled, almost like she put them on with the knowing that they were dirty without a care in the world. She pushed her body against his in a playful manner, a giddy smile pressed on her noticeably swollen lips.

Peter cocked his head for the side as he studied the two as they interacted. His face flushing without his control when the man ask lowly, “Hey, baby, you leavin’ already?”

“Yeah, I had a good time but I gotta head to work.” She smiled, her lips gently pressing against his cheek before nodding in Peter’s direction in an acknowledging way before heading down the hall towards the stairs.

“Was that.. your girlfriend?” Peter asked shyly, wondering if it was okay to ask for a moment.

“Nah,” he replied. “She just comes over from time to time.”

“Oh,” Peter hummed out. His mind not fulling registering the words until a few seconds later, the tips of his ears boiling in a red tint that slowly trailed down the back of his neck. He quickly waved his hands in front of him in a dissmising way as he said, “I’m sorry if I interrupted or something! I mean, you were at fault with the music and all, but I didn’t know, so, sorry!”

The guy leaned his head against the door, clearly exhausted. “It’s whatever. We were finished anyway.”

“Right..” Peter trialed off. His composure coming back when he introduced him, though he held back on shaking hands this time around. “I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker. I live across from you with my Aunt May.”

“Hm?” The guy hummed. “Just your aunt?”

“Yeah, just her.” Peter stated.

You held back on answering any further before you introduced yourself to the guy in front of you. He was timid, awkward, but entertaining in a way that you haven’t quite figured out yet. But, you were in no rush. You never had a thing for doing things quickly, better to savor it at a nice, slower pace.

“I’ll see ya around, Parker.” You smiled as you raised your blunt to him in a salute fashion before shutting the door on him before he could say anything.

Peter stood outside your door for a moment. He was serious about going back to his studying, back to his apartment. He was still determined to do so, but, it would have to be delayed by a minute or two. When that door shut, his whole body stiffen up. His feet felt like they had been nailed to the ground as he was unable to move a single muscles in his body. He was tense, unaware of anything except for this small noise that played in his head. It wasn’t anything significant to him, nor did he remember ever hearing it before.

When it played, it sound like the melody of a song to him. The weird thing was that he couldn’t pin-point the song. He knew he had never heard it before. Though, the truly odd part was that he didn’t hear any lyrics. It had no words, missing from the music they belong to. They were lost to him, if not lost, then simply unidentifiable in this very moment in time.

Peter didn’t see you the next morning, gone before he could deliver some welcome cookies that May made for you. Peter was on his way out for school, and thought to do it then, but you didn’t answer. He thought he would just do it after school, around the time yesterday when he knew you would be home.

A normal morning was what he wanted. He just wanted to get the school day done with, the Spanish test taken, and then go home and celebrate the weekend. His body was flushed between a sea of souls that chatted with friends about meaningless things. Conversations would range between after school plans to simple crushes that some people gushed over. This kinda chat in high school was nothing new for Parker, but the scene that was unfolding before him against his own locker was something that made him genuinely shocked for once.

A dark haired girl, maybe a junior, had her back against Peter’s locker with a taller body looming over her with a cocky grin against his features as her hands squeezed and trailed over his biceps. Thanks to his Spider-senses, Peter was able to hear the entire conversation even though he was a few feet away. 

“Wow, you’re really strong.” She hummed out in a honeyed voice, her voice filmed over with something erotic.

“And you sure can’t keep your hands to yourself..” You cooed out, your mouth making way over towards the new girl’s ear and whispered, “You know, that outfit looks good on you, but it’d look even better thrown all over my floor.”

Peter’s back instantly stood straight as he gripped his hands tighter around the strap of his backpack. He blinked aimlessly for a moment before taking a gulp, his feet finally moving froward and behind you. He rocked on his heels, hoping you would notice him, but when that wasn’t working, he tapped your shoulder.

When you turned you held a small scowl on your features, well, that was until you noticed the guy behind you. “Ah, Parker.”

“What? You know him? Seriously?” The unknown girl asked before holding some sort of look of disgust on her features. She pressed her hands against your built chest with pressure so she could escape your grasp. She started between the two of you guys for a moment before walking away, though, not until she got the chance to whisper under her breath, “Losers.”

“Well, now look what you did.” You hummed out as you scratched the back of your neck. A smirk inched across your lips as you leaned back against the lockers saying, “That’s what, twice now? What is it, got a lil crush on me or something, Parker?”

“Huh? No, no--nothing like that! If anything both times were kinda your fault.” Peter blurted out.

“My fault? Really?” You asked. “How?”

“Well, I mean, the music was you, not me. And you’re against my locker.” Peter said, his voice trailing off the more he started into your eyes that made that lyric-less record start to play again in his mind. 

You pressed your lips together, shrugging your shoulders before stepping to the side. Off of Peter’s locker. “You got a point, sorry, man.”

“It’s, uh, it’s cool.” He muttered out as he slowly approached. It was odd at how cautious he was, like if he got too close he’d get burned or something.

You kept your eyes on him, cocking up a brow at how skittish this kid was around you. Though, a reason why did manage to come into your mind. Normally, you didn’t really care what people thought about you or their opinions on what you did in your free time. But, you did block his locker and disturbed his studying, so, you thought it wouldn’t kill ya to let him know.

“I’m not a cheater, yanno.” You said casually, like it was nothing but normal to say that suddenly.

“What?” Peter asked, his textbook in hand.

“I’m not dating either of those girls, so don’t think I’m a cheater or something.” You hummed out as you crossed your arms across your chest. “I’d never cheat if I was committed to anyone, but I’m not, so, yeah.”

Peter blinked aimlessly at you, your head lower than normal. From the two encounters he could tell you were confident, cocky even. But the shy persona quickly went away when you turned to eye Peter down, the look in your eyes making him flinch and yell out, “I never thought that! Sure, you kinda look like a playboy or whatever, but I don’t have a problem with that!”

You chuckled, cracking a smile at Parker. “Look like?”

“Yeah?” He questioned, unsure if that was the correct answer.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you don’t look like much of a nerd like I’ve been hearing.” You said, pushing yourself off the lockers. “For my first day, people are awfully chatty with the new playboy.”

“T-Thanks, I guess..” Peter uttered out as he watched you start to walk backwards.

“See ya around, Parker.” You said with a cheeky wink before turning away and heading to class.

Overtime, Peter and you bonded. Normally he would connect with people based on interests, maybe Star Wars or his fascination with the Avengers. You didn’t have a shred of interest in any of those two, practically nothing in common with each other. Still, maybe by some weird twist of fate, you two bonded, quickly too. Perhaps it was also because you two were neighbors, but either way, it happened. 

The friendship that formed between you two was nothing but normal. If anything, some thought you were a little too close. Nothing ever happened, but Peter and you didn’t mind the rumors, even if neither of you said that to one another. Both of you knew people talked about anything they could. Plus, it was something abnormal when the school nerd and playboy were chatting up with each other whenever either of you got the chance. 

Sure, there were some thing that Peter didn’t quite like about you as you did him. For him, he didn’t quite agree with the fact that whenever he wanted to hang out with you and had to come to your apartment, he always caught you with a new girl. It was kinda embarrassing for him in the beginning, but after a while, it got tiring and frustrated for some reason. Though, for you, it was how late he’d want to hang out. It was like any time from past the school day until almost seven at night was off limits with Parker. You could understand at times with the Stark Internship, but every night was extreme, even for you.

Today, both you and Parker agreed to hang out for the day and possibly spend the night at Peter’s place. You thought it would be a peaceful day with some movies and snacks from his Aunt May, who you found very sweet. When you arrived though, you noticed his eyes directly latch onto your neck like a fish with a hook. You decided to ignore it, knowing what he was looking at but really didn’t care to bring it up. 

“I brought some movies.” You said with a cheeky smile as you held up the few cases you brought. Normally, you would hear an excited Parker wanting to pick the first movie, instead he stood at the doorway of his room while you sat upon the edge of his bed. He was looking at you, you knew he could hear you, but it was like he was ignoring you on purpose as he studied the spots that colored your your neck. 

“You enjoy yourself last night?” Peter asked in a cold tone that was layered with something unfamiliar to you.

You frowned a bit, unable to even fake a neutral expression. You placed the movies down at your side, putting your hands behind you to keep you up as you leaned back on Peter’s comfortable bed. 

“Depends who you ask. Personally, could’ve been better.” You said calmly, praying he didn’t notice your uneven tone. 

You watched something new twist into Peter’s eyes, something that made your stomach drop like some love struck idiot. It made you feel, for some reason, a bit guilty. You were never one to apologize for how you were, how you thought about just living in the moment. With him though, it was different, and it kinda freaked you out a bit. Though, in the end, you didn’t mind it so much. It was exciting how he could keep catching you off guard like this. He was unpredictable to you, never boring. 

“Which one was it this time? Maybe a blond?” He asked roughly.

“Nah, I got a thing for dark haired people.” You answered calmly, not wanting to start an argument with him. “You never met him.”

Peter stared aimlessly at you. “Him?”

You nodded. The silence taking up the entire room. You didn’t like it one bit to the point were you said, “If you don’t the hickeys, just give me one of your shirts to cover them or something.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Let’s just watch some movies.” Peter suddenly said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes like normal.

You nodded. “Okay.”

It was, well, more than a little awkward. Neither of you didn’t speak but just silently watched. To anyone other than the two of you, this would be normal and seen as okay. But, it wasn’t. Under normal circumstances, both of you would often make jokes about the movie. If it was a horror you’d try to understand one would make such a dumb move of investigating instead of turning the other way. Making bets on who would die next. When it came to action, Peter would often gush about the effects and badass dialogue. 

Today, it was pure silence. Thick enough for a knife to have trouble with. Now, you didn’t have a problem with silence in general. You thought people needed to understand which types of silences there are, which to enjoy. This one wasn’t one of those enjoyable ones that you lived in. No, this made even you antsy. 

You cracked your knuckles one by one, waiting until you ran out of fingers before saying, “I’ll stop, only if you want me to.”

“Huh?” Peter asked with wide eyes. His head causing a small hiss within the air at how fast he turned. ‘What’d you say?”

You took a deep breath. You seriously couldn’t believe you were doing this for one stupidly cute guy. “I’ll stop. But only if you want me to. I can see it gets to you a little.”

“You do..?” He uttered lowly, his breath shaken like he just got caught in the one of the worst lies ever.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I mean, I kinda get it. If you were doing what I was, I’d be a little jealous too.”

Peter’s eyes widened a bit as you laughed a little louder this time. He gathered it was a dismissive laugh, one to distract him from your words. Still, it worked. He listened to the way you laughed, watched the way your shoulders bounced as you held a smile brighter than the sun. The sun that was starting to sun sneaking through his window and hitting your skin just right, almost getting sun kissed by the gods. He had heard you laugh countless times, but one was different. 

It was louder, more contagious than usual. The way you face lit up a bit brighter didn’t go unnoticed either. His heart even beating a bit faster against his chest than normal. It was like his senses got even more heightened than they already were, but it was only when he was looking at you. The one thing that caught his attention most though wasn’t anything about you, but solely about him. In that moment, the record player that was sealed in his mind started to play again. Same melody as when you met and may times after that. The thing was, he could hear the lyrics this time. Lyrics that were sensual and loving in a way he’d never experienced before. Lyrics that finally placed the pieces together. 

In that moment he knew in his heart, body, and soul that he had completely fell head over heels for you without his knowledge or even consent. You truly stole his heart rom under his nose without either of you knowing the actions of the other. 

[asterkiss]

“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” Mabill, please. 😊

Zombie AU, anyone? 

- VULNERABILITY

“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

Mable Pines evaded another flesh-hungry zombie as she ran through the abandoned streets of Gravity Falls. A lot can change in a couple of days, and having a zombie apocalypse explode out of nowhere certainly changed a lot.

For one thing, she was currently all alone.

Wendy was currently incapacitated back at the Shack with two broken legs (long story); Dipper had been unfortunately kidnapped by a cult (an even longer story); and to top it all off their newfound ally Bill Cipher was fucking dead. 

She’d probably need several hours to explain that last part.

But to give the short version:-

It had only been a couple of months since the demon had taken on a human vessel and shenanigans had ensued between him and their family. A lot had transpired but to cut to the eventuality of it all, Mabel had actually grown close to the demon and considered him sort of, well, a friend.

(But that was it. Just a friend. Nothing more―no matter what he might suggest otherwise).

Despite that, even until the end Mable found herself continuing to question whether he really had changed. 

Apparently his way of proving that was to throw himself into a hoard of zombies so that she could escape unharmed.

Talk about making a point, huh?

(But seriously she was very upset about it).

Using her grappling hook, Mable equipped the ever useful device to scale the  building of an abandoned warehouse. Breaking an already cracked window, she climbed inside. Mable had the feeling people wouldn’t be bothered too much by her trespassing when there were bigger fish to fry in town right now.

Her reason for coming here to begin with was because she had bumped into Tambry who had apparently caught size of a group fitting the description of Dipper’s kidnappers visiting this place yesterday morning. 

So it was, Mable cautiously searched the abandoned warehouse, eventually making her way up a flight of stairs and into a room that oversaw the entire building. There didn’t seem to be any sign of Dipper, only remnants of abandoned supplies and machinery. 

Her foot tapped against something and she lowered her flashlight only to gasp at the sight of a body. Unfortunately, this was only one of many she had seen in the past couple of days. He didn’t even look that old either as he stared ahead vacantly.

Mable paid him a small blessing in her mind as she turned to continue searching.

Except something then grabbed her foot.

Ah.

Dropping her head down she found the dead body suddenly wasn’t so “dead” anymore as the light haired corpse groaned into movement whilst its cold fingers grasped at her ankle. Oh hell no. Mable quickly yanked her foot free and backed away, rushing for another door that lead out onto the walkway.

Luck was not on her side however as Mable flung the door open only to find another zombie stood loitering outside, its head hanging to one side. This one was older, probably a middle-aged gentleman as it turned its head to regard her arrival, eyes alighting with hunger.

Oh crap.

She retreated away from the door, peering behind her to find the first zombie was now standing. That way was blocked. Her head snapped back around as the older one lurched forward too close for comfort. She quickly held out her grappling hook and released it, the metal portion firing and hitting it square in the chest which caused it it to stumble. Score.

Mable turned on her heel only to freeze at the sight of shot gun directed her way. Her eyes wandered past the barrel of the gun and towards the individual holding it only for her gaze to land on none other than the zombie itself. Wait, what? 

The gun fired and she flinched as the shot rang out loudly throughout the room and building. When she turned her head, she found the other zombie directly behind her, apparently having recovered from her attack. What it couldn’t recover from however was the the fresh bullet hole in its skull as it slowly toppled over onto the floor. Dead for good this time. 

When she peered back cautiously towards the other undead in the room and met its gaze, its lips slowly stretched into a lazy grin.

‘Sup.’

‘Wha― Wait, Billl!?’

‘In the flesh,’ he shot back with a laugh, tapping his chest as he lowered the weapon. ‘This flesh to be more precise.’

‘Oh my god are you possessing a dead body right now?’ she cried, regarding him ludicrously. 

‘Well yeah, my old vessel got torn to pieces by those rabid cannibals―you’re welcome for that by the way―so I decided to shop around for something fresher. Lucky me, I found this one right by ya.’

‘You have part of your throat missing.’

‘I’ll hide it with a scarf.’

‘And I can see part of your intestines hanging out.’

'That can be patched up,’ he replied breezily, clearly having no qualms about his actions. 

Mable sighed as she regarded his new "form”. The body he inhabited couldn’t have been dead for that long as it still had some colour left in it and didn’t stink yet. Also, whilst it pained her to admit it, had this body been alive and intact its definitely a guy she would have considered hot. So in a way she was thankful he had part of his organs hanging out, it sobered her up and made her less inclined to think Bill was attractive.

‘See something you like?’ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as she continued to stare.

Mable rolled her eyes. ‘That’s creepy coming from a dead body.’

‘Would you rather I possess a living one?’

‘Why do you have to possess anybody at all?’ she protested. ‘Are you really that desperate to cause drama, even during a zombie apocalypse?’

He frowned. ‘That’s not why I’m back.’

‘Oh yeah?’ she gave him a flat look, clearly in disbelief.

‘It’s true!’ he retorted. ‘Hand on my― well, this guy’s heart!’

When she continued to side-eye him, Bill released an aggravated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘Urgh, you never make things easy. You’re seriously gonna make me be honest and crap? I hate that stuff.’

‘Yeah, how awful,’ she deadpanned.

He released a grumble, looking very much uncomfortable as he muttered something.

‘What?’

‘...d... ou....’

‘You seriously need to speak up dude, I can’t hear a thing.’

‘I’m fond of you!’ he snapped, eyes flashing as he pinned with a glare. ‘There, I said it. Are you happy!?’

Mable blinked in surprise at his admission. Well that she certainly hadn’t expected. She could tell he was uncomfortable at his own words and though she wanted to make a witty comment or joke, the girl knew that wouldn’t be fair to the demon who had clearly displayed some vulnerability to confess such a thing.

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘I just said so, didn’t I?’ he huffed, folding his arms. ‘Why else do you think I scarified my old vessel to rescue you? I’ve no idea what I’d do if I lost you.’

Oh wow. Mable felt her heart actually skip a beat and quickly reminded herself that this was still Bill even if he was saying the first sweet thing in probably centuries.

‘You like me,’ she stated, feeling the words on her own tongue. It felt nice to say them. Slightly funny, even. 

Bill grumbled some words, refusing to look her way. Was he embarrassed? Seriously? 

'Well, I like you too,’ she admitted, feeling she could show a little vulnerability in front of him if he was. His gaze wandered in her direction, a look of suspicion lacing his expression. 

‘You do?’

‘Yeah. I don’t really know why,’ she added, offering a wry smile. ‘But I was upset when you died so I’m kinda happy to see you again.’ Even if it was by possessing a dead body during these drastic times.

Mable could have sworn she saw the hints of a genuine smile beginning to form on his face at her admission, only for it to be quickly dampened as he unfolded his arms and straightened up. ‘Hmph, well luckily for you the main hero has returned to this mess of a show.’

‘Oh yeah?’ She watched as he tucked away his true feelings behind a facade once more. Looks like feelings time was over. And she was okay with that. It made her feel weird too. They could go back to being snark and comfortable.

‘Yep. So let’s go and save your dumb brother, for if my name ain’t Bill Cipher! All powerful and omnipotent demon, destroyer of dreams! Mwahahaha!!!’

‘Hey, Mr Destroyer of Dreams, you dropped one of your kidneys.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘Blehh, that’s so gross. I think I might seriously throw up.’

‘It’s fine, I’ll shove it back in! No harm done. See?’

‘No, keep it away from me! Bill!!’

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (part 2)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, violence, angst, the usual shit.

-----------

"This is good. Really good," Detective Brett Mahoney said with a nod. He was holding the paper in his hands that Daphne had printed that morning. It was the picture she'd taken the night before. She never really trusted cops before since she knew they were corrupt. But since Fisk was now locked away along with the cops who worked for him, it was better. She wasn't stupid enough to think there were no corrupt cops left but she knew Brett was legit.

She’d taken an interest in the Italians after accidentally stumbling onto some things with her work. Working a case like this felt different to her average cases, it felt like it mattered. But she was a PI, not a fed or a cop. She could gather information until her heart's content but she wouldn't be able to do anything with it. To shut down the Italian's operation she needed to do it legit. Certain things wouldn't hold up in court if they weren't obtained legally. So when Brett asked her to work with them, she agreed. Off the books of course. That's why she hadn't taken anything with her. It wouldn't be legal evidence. But this was the tiniest sliver of proof he needed to get a warrant for them to go in guns blazing and search the place.

"Honestly, after Daredevil went in kicking ass, don't be surprised if they've moved things. But this at least gets a foot in the door," she mused softly. Brett nodded, flashing her a smile. 

"It does. This is great, Daphne, really. I'll keep you updated," he said with a nod. They both stood as he felt like he needed to walk her out. He always did this and she wasn't sure why. As they neared the desk, she saw two men talking to the cop there. One had long shaggy hair and the other was blind if his cane and glasses were anything to go by. Oddly enough the blind one's head tilted in her direction and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"There's my favourite detective!" The shaggy haired one grinned. He was so friendly, she almost heaved. He wandered over and shook Brett's hand enthusiastically. 

"Foggy," Brett said politely. Daphne's eyes were glued on the blind man though as he used his cane to come over. Something was itching at the back of her brain as she examined his face. She wasn't sure what.

"And who's this lovely lady?" The one who was apparently Foggy asked. He gave her a bright grin and she wondered what he must have snorted that morning to be so cheerful.

"This is Daphne. Daphne, this is Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock. They're lawyers," Brett said amicably. She gave them a brief smile noting how tight lipped this Matt guy was. How tightly he seemed to grip his cane. 

"Nice to meet you guys," she couldn't even help sounding bored. It wasn't even intentional. It didn't seem to phase Foggy though as he continued smiling, glancing over to his friend. 

"Nice to meet you too, right Matt?" She carefully observed the way Foggy looked at Matt like he was confused by his behaviour. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Daphne," Matt replied with a tense smile. That voice. That itch got worse and she narrowed her eyes a little as she looked at him. They flit around what she could see of his face behind the glasses before it clicked. Oh how it clicked. There was a reason why figuring shit out was what she did for a living but she hadn't expected to just find this out so easy. She hadn't even intended to look into it because she didn't even care that much. 

Matt seemed to tense more, his back straightening as he seemed focused on her, even with unseeing eyes. She remembered how perceptive he was. Did he know that she knew? There was no way. 

"Well I need to go. Let me know how it goes?" She asked, finally tearing her eyes away from Matt as she looked at Brett. He gave her a smile and friendly pat to the back.

"I will," he replied. Her eyes went to Foggy then as he gave her a nod and she gave one in return. After last night's attitude she didn't even bother acknowledging Matt. She made her way out of the precinct and down the steps.

Her mind was swirling with questions from her new revelation. It hadn't even been that hard to put two and two together. How had he not been caught yet? She wondered if Foggy knew or not. So lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice someone was behind her until it was too late. Then she was yanked into the alleyway. Once more pinned to the wall by her throat and she couldn't hold back the snort as her eyes landed on the blind man doing it.

"Are you following me?" He practically snarled. She rolled her eyes, much like the night before she didn't struggle in her position. She wasn't scared.

"My life doesn't revolve around you. I was there passing on my evidence," she said sounding annoyed. He didn't let up though.

"Seems awfully familiar…" she trailed off with a sly smirk. His eyebrows rose before he let her go. Even though he didn't have the gift of sight he seemed to watch her warily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he huffed defensively. She chuckled, cocking her head. He looked spooked somewhat and it was nice after his cockiness from the night before. He clearly hadn't thought coming after her through because if she hadn't figured it out, she would have by now.

"Are you even blind?" She wondered out loud. His head snapped to her then with an offended scoff.

"Of course I'm blind," he genuinely sounded offended and she came to the conclusion he wasn't lying.

"How do you do it then?" She pressed. He looked tense, like he was ready to crawl out of his skin and she was enjoying making him sweat.

"I don't know what you're talking about,” he snapped.

"Yeah you do. You know, beating bad guys up, fighting crime. Honestly it's quite impressive since you can't see," she smirked. 

He stopped his pacing and she noticed his hands clenching and unclenching. 

"You're crazy, you know that? Have you heard yourself?" His deflections were useless when she could hear that undertone of pure panic. She knew she was right.

"Don't try and gaslight me. It wasn't that hard to figure out  I wasn't even looking. I have no idea how you've not been caught yet, Devilboy," she snorted. He looked away quickly, chest heaving a little. She could see he was starting to realise she wasn't letting this go. He was silent and she observed him. He honestly looked ready to have a heart attack and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not gonna rat if that's what you're worried about," she stated with a sigh. His head snapped back to her then as a mirthless chuckle left his lips.

"Right. I'll just take that on faith shall I?" He sneered at her.

"You don't really have a choice. I was serious when I said I wasn't looking. I could give a rat’s ass who you really were. I found out by chance. Believe me or don't, I really don't give a shit," she said seriously. He did the weird head tilt thing for a moment before swallowing thickly.

"And how do I know you won't go right to the cops, or to the papers?" He couldn't hide the faint tremor in his voice. She wondered if this was the first time someone had found out on their own. How that loss of control felt.

"Why would I do that? What would it serve me? I do that, you get locked up. Despite your bad attitude, I actually think you do good things for Hell's Kitchen," she replied honestly. A little begrudgingly if she was completely honest. He made it hard to want to say anything nice about him. He looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing under his glasses. She was bored now honestly. His panic wasn't anything she needed to stick around for.

"Is that all or you wanna pin me to the wall some more?" She snarked. He shook his head, looking rattled and she stepped past him. His hand darted out with impressive precision for a blind man, gripping her wrist tightly.

"If you tell anyone, I will find you," his vague threat only served to ramp up her anger.

"It's not wise to threaten someone who can ruin your life. I have no need to tell anyone, but run your mouth like that and we'll see how fast your life burns down. I wouldn't piss me off if I were you," she growled ferociously. He seemed stunned at first by her words, letting go of her wrist like it burned him. He really needed to wise up and realise just who had the upper hand in this situation.

"Have a good day, Mr Murdock," she gave him a sickly sweet smile even though he couldn't see if. If all her observations were correct he didn't have to see it to know it was there. He seemed to be able to sense everything anyway. She turned on her heel and marched away, the whole thing similar to the night before. She idly wondered if anything did happen to her through her snooping if he'd just let her die. That's what she would do after all. Why would he save her when she had the potential to ruin his life? Oh well. She didn't need him before and she didn't need him now. Even if it came to it, she wasn't one to beg and plead for her life. 

[one-boring-person]

Omg I just reread the hunter fic you wrote for me and I'm still screaming - I so fucking love it!!!! You're totally awesome babe! So, I was wondering - only if it isn't to much - if you would be willing to write a part two?💕

Of course! I hope you like this as much as the first!💛💛💛 thank you for requesting! ❤❤ (I'm so sorry this is so late!)

Goddamn Hunters. (Part Two.)

David (The Lost Boys) x reader

Warnings: blood imagery, graphic violence

Masterlist.

Part One.

The journey back to David's home is mostly silent, the only sound being a brief squeak from me when I realise that we are no longer on the ground, my hands clutching tighter at the comfortable fabric of his overcoat, my face burying into his chest, inhaling his somehow familiar scent. In my ears, the rushing wind is unbelievably loud, though the sensation of it against any exposed skin is not as biting as I thought it would be, possibly due to the frigidity of my body beneath my torn clothes. I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to look at the ground far below us as he continues to move, his arms adjusting themselves securely around my trembling frame, the sensation making me feel safer, despite me not knowing this...person at all.

After what feels like hours, he touches down again, a roaring, crashing sound making itself known to me, as well as a pungent salty reek laced with a woody odour, all of which mix with the confusion already fogging up the inside of my head, my fatigue finally becoming noticeable to me. Yawning, I instinctively cuddle closer to David, my body reacting before my brain does, a deep blush rising to my cheeks as he looks down at me, blue eyes widening a little with surprise before they fill with some other emotion, something akin to pride. I don't quite register as he carries me somewhere dimly lit, whining quietly when he finally places me down somewhere, the noise a reflex I didn't know I had, though I am glad that the surface below me is soft and comfortable. Halting, the platinum blonde seems to think something through, eyeing my limp, tired form on what I can only assume is a bed, his hand absentmindedly reaching up to stroke back my hair, frowning a bit at my bloodied state. He jerks away suddenly when a voice speaks up from behind him, the words incoherent to me as I drift to sleep, aching and painful after my ordeal, only just catching the end of what David responds with.

"...mate."

For the first time in days, I sleep peacefully, none of the harrowing nightmares I've had previously assaulting my conscience, though the biting hunger at the back of my throat remains a constant, the blood on my clothes not helping at all. Thankully, the day passes quickly, my eyes opening just as the last rays of sunlight leave the surroundings, the bed I'm sleeping in blocked off from the outside light by black-out curtains, which is helpful, seeing as I learnt the hard way that the bright light hurts like hell. Hesitantly, I climb off the bed/nest thing and examine the room I'm in, surprised to find myself in a cave of sorts, the spacious expanse littered with debris and random objects, a few of them gathered around a decrepit fountain in the centre, near which there are sofas and a wheelchair, a faint layer of dust collecting on almost every surface. Confused, I step further into the room, moving to the fountain, where I trail a finger over the filthy surface, a greyish film coating the digit as I pull it away, my nose somehow picking up the musky scent emanating from it with ease. In addition to this, I can also smell four distinct odours, one of which I already recognise: David, the unmistakable smell inciting an odd longing feeling within me, my body aching to be with my mysterious saviour again.

In my confusion, I fail to notice that a tall figure has appeared in the hallway behind me, their eyes glowing yellow as they catch sight of me, a low growl escaping them, before I'm pinned to the fountain by them, strong hands holding me to the marble surface in a painful position. I yelp, struggling in their hold, my own strength dwindling due to my hunger, terror and panic flooding me as I fight to get free, only for my assailant to hold me tighter still, snapping their teeth by my ear in warning. Whimpering, I still, hoping that whatever they do to me, it will be quick.

"Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing here? Couldn't you tell this is our territory?" The voice is distinctly male, though the hostility sounds wrong in it, as if he normally uses a lighter tone to address people.

"T-territory? What do you mean?" I manage to get out, just as puzzled as I am afraid, wincing when he presses me tighter against the fountain.

"You know exactly what I mean. We've marked this area and laid claim to it more times than I can count, so you can't seriously tell me you don't know what I mean. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" He punctuates each word clearly, his breath fanning over my ear as he forces me into even more discomfort, my mind scrambling to piece together what in the hell is going on. My mouth opens and closes as I try to figure out what to say, only to snap shut when I hear a thankfully familiar voice somewhere behind us.

"Get the hell away from her, Paul." David snarls, rich voice laced with anger, the platinum blonde audibly stepping over to where I'm pinned to the water feature. The weight on my back is suddenly gone, my body screaming in relief from the painful position as I twist in time to see a lanky blonde being thrown to the floor by the black-clad platinum blonde who saved my life last night, a gasp escaping me as the former crashes into a rickety old table, the ancient structure cracking in two under the force.

"What's your problem, man?" The blonde, Paul, bites out at David as he climbs to his feet, pulling a few splinters of wood out of his jacket and mop of hair, eyes stool flashing yellow.

"You! You're my problem, waltzing in here and attacking my mate as if you own the place..." His voice trails off, eyes fading into their icy blue again almost as if he's realised what he just said.

Silence encompasses the three of us, shock evident on Paul's face, regret lining David's and confusion probably showing on mine, the quiet quickly becoming awkward as the taller blonde tries to process what he's heard, only disrupted when another two people emerge from the tunnel behind David. One of them, a slightly shorter blonde with curly hair, is pulling on a patchwork jacket, angelic features bright with mirth, whilst the other is a tall dark haired guy with no shirt on, his own leather jacket slung over one broad shoulder, nearly black eyes swiftly finding me.

"Ooh, who's this?" The shorter blonde queries when he sees me, doe eyes raking up and down my figure, though he quickly looks over at Paul when he makes a sound of disbelief.

"Your mate? Since when do you believe in that crap?" Paul exclaims loudly, his words stirring yet more confusion into the soup that has become my mind, my eyes flicking uneasily between the four boys.

"Hold up, who's whose mate?" The short blonde questions, frowning at his friends, the dark haired one staring at me with a vague expression of realisation.

David sighs, coming over to me with a gentle look on his handsome features, helping me back up again and keeping one hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin as he looks at me worryingly, silently asking if I'm alright. I nod, somehow trusting him.

"This is (Y/n). My mate. We only met yesterday, when I found her being attacked by hunters." He informs the others, eyeing them sternly, "And I'd like it if you could all respect that. She needs help transitioning."

"Hang on, before you go on, what are you talking about? Hunters? Transitioning? Mate? What on earth does it all mean?" I butt in, finally speaking up over the others.

David and the dark haired one exchange glances briefly, before the latter ushers the other two outside and out of sight, leaving the platinum blonde and I alone together. Carefully, he eases me onto the edge of the fountain, sitting beside me without making eye contact.

"How long have you been like this?" He finally asks, looking over at me.

"Like...this? You mean messed up, hungry, hysterical, nocturnal and not to mention chased around Santa Carla by two people I thought were my friends? For four days now." I respond, drawing attention to the gnawing hunger in the back of my throat again.

"Four days? How long have you been in Santa Carla?" He sounds confused now, as if he wasn't expecting me to say that.

"For three. I don't know why, I sort of just...needed to come here. It's like i felt this connection between me and what i have now figured out is you...sorry, this is too much information, and I probably sound weird as hell..." I admit to him, fiddling with the hem of my tattered shirt.

"No, that makes sense, it's a mate thing, I guess." He murmurs quietly.

"Can you just tell me what that means please?" I ask again, sighing in exasperation.

"This is probably going to sound pretty crazy, but you, as well as me and the others, are a vampire, and somehow, that has also made the mate bond between us stronger. Mate bond as in some weird, primal urge to be together."

"Wait, what?"

It takes David a full hour to properly explain everything to me, by which point I'm absolutely starving, my fangs itching to make themselves known, as well as slightly disturbed by the knowledge of what I really am, even if it does explain a lot about the events of the past four nights. David seems to notice my discomfort, as he suddenly stands up, offering me a hand with a small smirk on his face.

"Come on, let's get you some food."

"Food? Like blood?" I inquire, gingerly placing my shaking hand in his gloved one, allowing him to pull me up.

"Exactly like blood." He smirks, leading me to the entrance of the cave, where we go put and climb up a rickety old walkway to the top of a cliff. Once at the peak, we stand at the edge, looking out over the roaring sea, the noise of which is still unbearably loud to my ears.

"So we can either take my motorcycle, or we can take the more interesting route." The vampire offers, blue eyes boring into me.

"More interesting route?" I question, lifting an eyebrow.

He doesn't respond, instead just smirking wider, going to the edge of the cliff. With a suggestive wink, he steps backwards, off the edge, disappearing below the cliff line. Gasping, I go to step forwards, as if to stop him, only to freeze in place when he floats back into view, coat swirling around him as the wind rushes past his narrow body.

"What the...how are you doing that?!"

Incredulous, I rush to the edge, looking over it as if to check if he's standing on something, only to look back up at him when I don't see anything.

"Practice. Come on, you can float, too." He grins, coming closer. I smirk at the IT reference, edging forwards, taking his outstretched hands, only to feel confused when he bats them away, his arms wrapping around my waist securely. As he does so, I suddenly feel the ground melt away from under my feet, a squeak of fear escaping me before I look up into his pale face, laughing as a sudden rush of exhilaration course through me, my own hands coming up to rest against the hard planes of his chest. He grins at me happily, slowly releasing his grip on me, whooping out loud when I manage to float on my own, only to grab hold of me again when I waver unsteadily, tipping towards the ground.

"Come on, let's get you some blood." He promises, twisting around and gesturing for me to hold onto his back, before swiftly flying off in the direction of Santa Carla, an exhilarated scream escaping me. In no time, we're circling around the dark alleys and back roads of the small coastal town, swiftly locating a group of three people, who look hopelessly lost.

"Just drop down on them, and let loose." Dvaid encourages me, going nearer to the group.

Taking this into account, I release his back and fall to the floor, dropping right on top of one of them, my instincts taking over as my fangs break past my lower lip, slicing into the soft skin even as I tear into the available skin of my first victim. Blood spurts up into my waiting mouth, a ravenous moan escaping me as I clasp the person closer to me, relishing in the terrified shrieks of their friends, easily drinking my first victim dry. Throwing them aside, I stalk over to the others, who are paralyzed in fear, grabbing one and sinking my teeth into their soft skin, enjoying the sensation of the delicious life force flowing from them to me. Too soon, they die in my arms, allowing me to easily drop them and move on, finishing off the last one in no time.

As I finish, David drops from the sky, eyeing me closely, as if expecting me to attack him, too. When I don't, he comes closer, grinning from ear to ear, lifting a hand up to my face to wipe a trickle of blood away from the corner of my mouth, bringing the digit to his lips, licking the red substance off of it, the action making me feel oddly hot around the collar, despite the fact that the hunger is still rife in my mind, body still yearning for more. Swiping my tongue over my chin, I try to force it down, feeling my features slowly morphing back into their natural state, the fangs protruding from my gums sinking back into normal sized teeth, a groan of both satisfaction and dissatisfaction leaving me at the thought of having to stop now.

"Don't worry, kitten, we'll get you some more-" David goes to reassure me, only to suddenly be cut off as something explodes by his head, a familiar cloud of mist encasing him. Surprised, the vampire growls in pain, hands lifting to his face, rubbing at his now-bloodied skin, eyes flashing yellow in the fog of white moisture, the agonized groans he emits distressing me.

"David?! David, are you ok?!" I move to go and help him, only to flinch back when the vampire pushes me away again, voice strangled.

"I-I'm fine...damn...hunters again...get out of here!" He commands, twisting away from me. Annoyingly, I feel conflicted, part of me wanting to stay and help him, the other wanting to obey his words. It's only when he snarls another "Go!" at me that I turn and leave the area, biting my lip as I run around the corner.

As I do so, I hear an unfamiliar, distinctly female, voice start speaking to David, the words unclear as I start remembering something one of the hunters from the night before said, when they first tried to stake me:

"Wait till the girls find out they missed this."

These must be the girls he was talking about; vengeful girlfriends out to kill their boyfriends' killers. Peeking back around the corner, I nearly gasp as I see David on his knees, a woman pushing him down with a foot on his back, another standing before him with a stake poised over his head. At the moment, they seem caught up in some sort of joint speech, which gives me some time to figure out how to help, an idea swiftly forming in my head.

Looking around, I spot a pipe running up the side of the building near me, which I go over to, testing its stability. Inhaling, I start using it to pull myself up, my new strength allowing me to easily scale the building, ignoring the worrying creaking sounds that it emits as I heave myself onto the roof. Catching my breath, I race over to where I have a view of the alley below, my eyes swiftly finding the three people below. Standing straighter, I relax my muscles and concentrate on feeling light, straining to get myself up into the air, hopelessness starting to flood me as I feel the roof below me remain where it is.

For a minute, nothing happens, my feet staying firmly in place, until I let out an annoyed sigh, at which point i suddenly feel weightless, the slates under my shoes falling away as I open my eyes and look down, smiling briefly as I notice I'm a good few feet off the surface. Determined, I tilt myself forward a little, moving so I'm in line with the prone figure of my so-called mate, lowering myself somehow until I'm just out of sight. David struggles again, hissing as the girl with her foot on his back pours a liquid down the back of his coat, briefly distracting her, giving me the opportunity I need. I drop down, grabbing the stake-wielding hunter around the waist and pulling her upwards, my fangs instantly finding their purchase around her throat, tearing out her oesophagus and trachea with a horrible ease, the blood filling my mouth deliciously as her strangled screams fade into nothing.

Pulling away, I look down to see the other hunter glancing around, a stake now held in one hand as she tries to figure out where I am, pulse audible from here. Grinning sadistically, I allow the body in my arms to fall to the floor below, thudding loudly against the pavement, blood making a paint-like splash on the otherwise unstained tarmac, the sound drawing the hunter's attention away from David, a low gasp of air escaping her, before it breaks off into a pained scream when David suddenly jumps up to tear her heart from her back. As the blood erupts out of the now-limp body, i slowly manage to lower myself to the floor, wiping my chin on my sleeve as he looks at me in shock and gratitude. Noticing this, I make eye contact with him, smiling proudly.

"Goddamn hunters." Is all I say, mimicking him from earlier.

All he does is chuckle thankfully, sweeping me up into his arms, pressing me against his chest. Smiling, I wrap my arms around him, glad to have finally found someone to help me through this.

[heraldofzaun]

//Still lurking.

Some thoughts below the cut. A little melancholic. A little ranty. Many thoughts on how Viktor is perceived by the fandom at large. It got away from me.

I think I’ve mentioned it elsewhere, but I have followers here and this is also a Viktor blog... I think it would be nice if people stopped making fun of Viktor’s accent - I saw T/BSkyen’s (I think that keeps me out of the tag) shorts video on Viktor, and it was disheartening that he chose to make fun of Viktor’s accent several times throughout a one-minute video. No other character with a hammy, over-the-top accent, as far I know, receives this treatment. No one makes fun of Caitlyn’s British accent in character analyses of her. No one makes fun of Fiora’s French accent in character analyses of her. (I just checked his videos on them, actually, and guess what - no mocking their accents by doing them! Although Fiora’s accent does get mentioned, at the least.)

Just... stop doing it? We know the accent is cartoonishly bad and not accurate to actual Russian accents at all. But why, specifically, are people - T/BSkyen, in this instance - compelled to make fun of Viktor by putting on an accent and saying “Get reed of all emotions“ and “GLORIOUS EVOLUTION” and “BEEP BOOP ROBOT BRAIN”? (The misspelling in the first is not mine. It is in the actual subtitles for the video.)

I mean, we all know that the answer is the fact that American (and other countries, but we can focus on America for now) media spent the Cold War convincing Americans that Russians and Eastern Europeans were mindless followers of ideology and/or Crazy Insane Scientists, instead of like... people with diverse thoughts and feelings who may or may not agree with their government, but like... I have to ask the rhetorical questions here because no one else is going to apparently. Anyways it’s 2021 stop conflating people and the governments they live under, I guess.

Anyways, also very disheartening that I just checked the pinned comment on that video and he is now saying that Viktor’s endpoint is the Battlecast universe, which is not a canon fact even in current lore. It’s an assumption. I can’t even say that Full Machine Viktor is Viktor’s endpoint, because that was retconned into being a janitor skin that randomly breaks into Spanish in the skin bio for a... “joke”? (Because that’s a cool thing to do. I’d ask how that got past anyone, but that’s a pointless question.) But Battlecast is not stated anywhere to be the end result of canonical Viktor, as far as I know. I suppose it’s not stated to not be the result, but... Like, what other character gets an AU skinline that people then say has to be their canonical endgoal when it is not said to be their canonical endgoal by any official source?

Quothe the loremaster... “The endpoint of Viktor's quest is the Battlecast universe. In case y'all forgot. Read between the lines of his stories even a little bit before stanning him, I'm begging you.”

The entirety of the pinned comment is frustrating. It is frustrating not only because it clashes entirely with the funny comical tone of the minute-long short, which also decides to yet again conflate transhumanism with being trans (we have heard my thoughts on this before. Please stop doing this), but because it is unfortunately true in aspects about current Viktor. He is really not a good man, even though you may be able to argue that Riot’s biased narrator choices mean that a canonical version of the Viktor-Jayce fight does not exist. (Because both lores tell their sides of the story. Biasedly.) But as the story stands, his character getting filled out didn’t make him more morally ambiguous than his original counterpart. The ambiguity that existed originally was due to us not knowing a lot about him and thus being able to interpret things the way we wished. (I’m sure that there is still room for interpretation in the new lore, but it seems lesser to me. Also, his color story is framed atrociously. It’s going for warm and fuzzy when the content of it is giving a kid drugs but this is a long enough post already...)

Riot does not know what to do with Viktor. They’re content to portray him as a Russian mad scientist and buffoon in LoR and in some other media, because... [gestures at the struck-out paragraph above]. But then they have his lore which... could be interesting, maybe, if it weren’t convinced that the way to tell a morally grey story is to have narrators more unreliable than a pull-start lawn mower. Like, they just don’t know what to do with him.

Any analysis of him needs to come with that caveat, not someone deciding that the best way to spent a minute of analysis is to make multiple jokes about Viktor’s accent being stereotypical via... feeding into it being stereotypical... and saying that transhumanism is related to trans rights in any inherent way.

Also, T/BSkyen says that Viktor only has an augmented hand and the third arm, which conveniently ignores the fact that Prototype is probably supposed to be taken as semi-canonical considering its name and the fact it was made when backstory-related skins were a more common thing. (And also because it hasn’t been retconned into being a janitor.) It also conveniently ignores the fact that Viktor’s lower legs clearly don’t look like armor on his model, but this is a side tangent that doesn’t really matter, so...

Whatever, right? I’ve clearly put more thought into this than League’s local loremaster put into that video and subsequent “no guys he really is a baddie stop stanning him and grow critical thinking skills” comment. Sorry if I sound jaded here or am taking this far too seriously or whatever, it’s just... man, it’s a lot. It makes trying to do my take in any public capacity feel kind of like shit, because it’s clear that the general perception of Viktor is currently 1) Haha Funny Accent Man, 2) Trans Rights!1!, and/or 3) He’s Evil :(, and it sucks. I already am writing for a niche audience who will accept a Viktor who never went to Piltover and who exists in old Zaun. I know that that’s niche. I’m okay with it being niche, I think.

But it sucks to build up all this character and do all this writing and try to... I don’t know, present a nuanced view of someone, and then just get another fucking joke about his accent or his design tropes or about what transhumanism is. Especially when those jokes are what people remember, right?

Sorry. This got whiny. But I think it explains why I’ve lost so much steam on writing our favorite Machine Herald, because stuff like this just keeps kind of... happening.

Thank you to the folks that send in anons about my analyses or who like my posts about my artistic endeavors or just... well, interact in general. It does mean a lot to me that you guys are invested enough to hang around and read 2k words of me doing the Pepe Silvia scene from Always Sunny as I connect dots that might not have been meant to be connected. It’s just hard to keep doing it, sometimes, and I guess this is one of those moments.

[bombshellbois]

The Hs Room Together

@harringroveweekoflove

Harringrove Week of Love Day 1: Bed Sharing

Rating: M (for very minor dick content and slurs)

Warnings/Triggers: Use of slurs

Words: 2182

Summary: Circumstances find Steve and Billy stuck sharing a bed during a school trip. As things usually go for Steve, it starts out kind of lame and then gets so much worse. 

There’s an odd number of players on the basketball team. They’re down a man because their main shooting guard broke his stupid arm. So not only are they in a precarious position as far as getting to state, but it makes divvying up the motel rooms really awkward. 

The public school system solution, of course, is to save money and cram 3 people into one room. 

The coach who stuck Tommy H., Billy, and Steve all in one room either has zero awareness of his team, or possibly a really sick sense of humor, because ‘You three are all friends, right? It’ll be fine, there’s probably a couch in there.”

There is not a couch. There are two beds with ugly comforters, a nightstand, and a lamp. Television sets are too fancy for this dump.

“Well since none of us are fags, guess Harrington gets the floor,” Tommy has already announced before shutting himself in the bathroom, probably to use up all of the hot water. And honestly, Steve might just take the floor because it’s been 11 hours on a bus and he’s fucking tired. It’s not like he gets great sleep these days anyway, so the floor can’t really make it worse. 

Billy tosses both their bags onto the empty bed. “I’ve got the shower next.”

“...yeah, fine. I shower in the morning anyway.” Easier to do his hair. Steve frowns and points at the bags. “Are we sharing?”

“Yeah, Harrington, we’re sharing.” Billy digs a pair of shorts out of the bag and tosses them onto the bed. “Problem?”

“No.” Steve has shared a bed with a guy before. Usually with Tommy, actually, since before Billy showed up they used to fall together in the alphabet. There was that one motel where one of the mattresses smelled like piss. And another that Tommy swore was haunted so he wouldn’t sleep alone. Steve vaguely wonders if Tommy still pulls that shit now that he’s usually rooming with Billy. “Just surprised that you’re gonna play the nice guy here.”

“Kinda wanna piss Tommy off, actually.” Billy slaps him on the back. “But it’s cute that you think we’re gonna snuggle.”

Steve ignores the sting in his back. “What’d Tommy do?” Whatever is it, Tommy sure seems unaware of it.

Billy shrugs. “Eh. It’s just hard to respect fag jokes from a guy who’d suck dick in a second to raise his social circle.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong there. And Steve isn’t necessarily against any plan to piss Tommy off. So he shrugs as well. “Alright, whatever,” he says, grabbing his toothbrush and heading for the sinks. 

***

Steve is absolutely expecting the solid 8 minutes of heckling he gets from Tommy for being in the bed while Billy is in the shower. He’s facing the wall where the bathroom is to make it easier to ignore him, and seriously, if the guy would shut up for ten minutes he’d probably be able to fall asleep. Tommy acting like an irate ex-girlfriend lost its novelty and sting a long time ago.

“Really gonna test Billy’s patience over this, Harrington?”

“So desperate you need to cop feels from the team? Has it been that long since Nancy?”

“If Billy beats the shit out of you, then you won’t even look pretty on the bench.”

“If I beat the shit out of him, that would put you on the starting lineup, Hagar,” Billy snaps as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You think I just spent all goddamn day on a bus to tank our chances like that?”

“Hey, at least I know how to plant my feet!”

“Yeah. In the shower to use all the hot water.” Billy whips off his towel and starts using it to dry his hair. “And you used all the goddamn towels. Since when are you such a chick?”

Tommy whines out some reply that Steve doesn’t really hear because he’s trying really hard not to stare at Billy’s dick, even though it’s directly in his field of vision. It jostles lightly with the rest of his body as Billy scrubs at his hair. The blonde curls that start low on his stomach are so much darker than the ones on his head and… Steve finally forces himself to snap his eyes shut. 

There’s a rustle of cloth that Steve hopes is Billy pulling those shorts on. The mattress dips behind him, and then there’s a lot of warmth at his back. 

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Billy says, snapping off the lamp. Steve isn’t sure if that was meant for Tommy or him... probably Tommy since Steve stayed out of their little tiff. But it’s a good idea anyway, and he drops off to sleep without listening for Tommy’s reply. 

***

Steve is still facing the wall by the bathroom when he wakes up. There is no clock in that direction. But Steve’s brain is fuzzy like he’s had a few hours of sleep, and it feels very early. The kind of early that comes well before any sunlight. Going back to sleep would be really nice, but something is wrong. Off. 

Is there any pain? No?

Noise? Just Tommy snoring. The rumble of the air conditioner. 

Movement? No. 

Too hot? There it is. 

The room is sweltering and he can barely move. After a moment, he realizes he’s under both the sheet and the comforter. And there’s a heavy arm on top of him. Steve wracks his brain trying to remember if he did that but... no. Who the hell sleeps under a motel comforter? It’s filthy. He shifts and tries to shove the blankets off, but he’s pinned. Not just by Billy’s arm, but the blankets. They’re wound all the way around him. 

“Billy,” he mumbles, the word clumsy from sleep. “Get off.”

“Go the fuck to sleep, Princess,” Billy mumbles, half the syllables lost into the pillow. 

“Too hot.” 

Billy groans. “Oh fuck you. Go to sleep.” 

“Hot.” 

“Is this some weird thing, Harrington? Are you just a slut for body heat?” 

Steve furrows his brow. Goddammit he’s going to have to wake up for this. “What the hell are you talking about?” He feels around until his fingers close around the top of the headboard and he hauls himself out from under Billy’s arm. Cool air hits his face and he pulls in a deep breath of it.  His hair is damp, sticking to the sweat on the back of his neck. The icy air pouring out of the unit mounted in the window turns the sweat cold, and it’s gross that it’s so refreshing. 

It’s dark in the room and Steve can only barely make out the vague shape of Billy laying starfish on the bed, one arm across Steve’s back. “Did you wrap me in this shit?”

“Uh, yeah. I did. Because you kept huddling up to me like were freezing.”

That doesn’t sound accurate. Steve has standards, and Billy meets none of them. Except maybe a few really shallow ones about hair and eyes and general physique. And he’s absolutely not comforting. “Pretty sure I wasn’t.”

“Pretty sure I wasn’t laying here pining to tuck your ass in.” Billy grabs the back of Steve’s shirt and hauls him back down. Steve is too surprised to remember to keep his grip on the headboard, and gets dragged back into the cocoon of blankets. Billy drops his arm back across his shoulders, and this time Steve feels a knee on his back. “Now fuck off back to sleep.”

“I’m sweating my ass off in here,” Steve protests, flailing for the headboard again. Billy slaps his hand away. 

“You survived in there for…” A pause, a creak of bedsprings as Billy turns to see the red, glowing numbers on the clock on the nightstand. “Over 3 hours. You can handle a few more.”

“I might pass out from overheating.”

“All I’m hearing is that you’ll shut up again.”

Steve huffs and shifts his shoulders, testing his range of motion to see if maybe he can unwrap something, but it seems to go all the way around and-

Billy suddenly leans his weight on the arm he has over Steve, and his hand plunges into the mass of blankets. His fingers grope through Steve’s hair and at the back of his neck in a way that makes goosebumps break out on Steve’s arms. Before he can protest (he’s absolutely getting ready to protest), Billy’s fingers close around the back of Steve’s shirt and pull. Steve makes an indignant squawking sound he hopes Tommy didn’t wake up for as his t-shirt is peeled off him. 

“What the hell, Hargrove??”

“Now you’re down one layer. Should cool you off just fine.” Billy tosses the shirt aside and Steve hears it hit the tiles by the sinks. 

“Did you hear how that landed?” Steve protests. To his ears, anyone could hear that it was clearly a gross, drenched splattering sound. “How it was loaded with sweat from me roasting in here?”

“It landed like a fucking t-shirt. If you don’t shut up and go to sleep, I’m coming for your sweat pants next,” Billy says, giving a warning press with his knee. 

Steve pauses and tries to consider if Billy can make good on that threat. He’s going to have a lot harder time reaching Steve’s waistband than he did his collar. He’s probably just bluffing. But… if he tries it, the noises they’re going to make in the battle are definitely going to wake Tommy up. And that’s gonna be hard to explain. 

“Next time you’re pissed at Tommy, share the bed with him. That’d be way more of a punishment,” Steve grumbles, and makes himself close his eyes, figuring he’ll just have to rest them while he waits out the rest of the sweltering, miserable night. 

***

Or not. 

When Steve wakes up again, there’s light creeping into the room. Not a lot of it. Just thin, gray light that makes it possible to see Tommy in the next bed, snoring with each breath. Steve’s head is groggy and he has to remember all over again why he’s wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and sheets. 

He’s not quite as sweltering as he seems to remember, though. Earlier Billy was definitely trying to kill him via suffocation or something, but… everything seems okay now. Comfortable. He shifts a little and pauses. Something is wrong. Different wrong than before. 

“…Where are my pants?” he finally manages through the cotton in his brain. He went to bed with pants on, didn’t he?

“Same place they’ve been since you last started wriggling.” Billy’s voice rumbles right beside Steve’s ear, making him sit up abruptly, as much as his wrappings will allow. This does nothing except confirm his fears that yes, he’s curled up against Billy Hargrove’s side. Shit. 

“You took my pants?” Steve asks, trying to wake up enough to sound indignant. He doesn’t even remember it happening, he couldn’t have been putting up that much of a fight, right? That seems like the more important thing here, not whether or not Steve was trying to snuggle up to Billy. 

“I took a lot more than that, Princess.” 

Uh oh. Steve immediately grasps in vain at his waist for material that isn’t there. Billy smirks and picks up his cigarettes from the side table, slipping one into the corner of his mouth as Steve drops his head and groans. There’s a click of a Zippo somewhere over his head. 

“I get the feeling that pretty face of yours has made things way too easy on you.” Billy pauses to exhale. The smoke wafts down and tickles Steve’s nose through the opening in the top of the blankets. “No one ever handled you like the brat you are.”

“You stripped me naked!” Steve hisses, now suddenly very aware of Tommy sleeping in the next bed. Not that Tommy was a light sleeper, but being quiet seemed super important now. 

“Not for fun, obviously. You’re not in a position for me to enjoy it.” A vague pat to Steve’s side to emphasize his covered state also alerts him to the knowledge that Billy’s arm is around him. “So here’s the deal. It’s just past 5. You sleep another hour and let me have some fucking peace, and I’ll wake you up to get in the shower before Tommy over there hauls his ass up and sees your clothes scattered around.” 

Steve raises his head to glare at Billy, but all he gets for that is a smirk. Billy takes the cigarette from his mouth and holds the filter side to Steve’s mouth in offering. 

“Do we have a deal?”

Steve finds himself straining forward and taking a drag off the cigarette. He holds the smoke in before sighing it out in a long, white breath. 

“Good,” Billy says, not waiting for Steve to use his words. He puts the cigarette back in his mouth, and it bobs lightly with his words. “Go back to sleep, Princess.”

[bcrtonarrcws]

Meta: Claire's relationship with Barney

              HELLO, HI, YOU HAVE JUST UNLOCKED AN ESSAY THAT IS PROBABLY JUST A LITTLE TOO LONG, if I do say so myself and given that I wrote it, I would say you should listen.

 Anyway, the Bartons are actually my favorite comic siblings to ever exist – probably actually my two favorite comic characters ever ever. Their relationship is so dysfunctional and a little broken, yet held together by shitty guardians and a rough childhood. It’s kinda beautiful, how after everything that happened to each other, they’re still close?? Like they trust each other, tease each other, they have each other’s back?? The relationship between Clint and Barney is truly one of my favorite representations of a pair of siblings who didn’t have the easiest life, mainly because, like without the superhero nonsense, their relationship is actually very similar to my own relationship with my siblings – a severely messed up ride or die that might end with one of us killing each other.

Yet, this question is what does Barney’s and Claire’s relationship look like, not Barney’s and Clint, which despite how little it would change, does change some things. To figure out what it changes though, I’d like to head to what their relationship is like, in canon, for me. I know that the fandom has it’s own view of Barney Barton – I don’t agree with it nor particularly like it, so it’s probably best if I explain how I look at their relationship.

So Barney Barton, born Charles Bernard Barton, is the eldest of the two – no ages because this is the comics and characters can’t have canon ages ?? I guess it’ll break the suspension of disbelief but like shrugs – and he showed up in the comics in 1969, before this, he never existed. Of course this is during the age of the 60’s so most superheros didn’t really like have a life outside of the comics they were in so it’s not that big of a deal, but like still, Marvel just creates this character to be Clint’s brother, tells us he’s a racketeer that’s been on the Avenger’s radar for a while, and then kills him in the same issue, only revealing at the end that he was an undercover FBI agent.

(yeah, they gave Clint a family and then killed said family right away, sounds so similar, y’know kinda like the movie-verse which gave clint a family with very little characterization and then snapped them – no wonder I love Laura so much)

Anyway, later issues of Clint’s will explain that their parents were abusive, they died and Clint and Barney ran away from the orphanage they were in when they were like teenagers – this would be retconned to young teenagers, then implied to be younger as of the Hawkeye (2012) series, which puts Clint sleeping under the tents at age 9 (src), which could or could not imply them being their already - it’s whatever, like it’s just gonna get retconned again. Running away to the circus always puts strain on their relationship no matter what age they are though, mainly due to Clint receiving training from their mutual “father figure” Jacques DuQuesne and Barney becoming jealous; a completely and natural thing according to all child psych I’ve read, it creates an environment that allows one kid to be the “golden child” and the other to be the “scapegoat” – now of course, we don’t know much about the dynamics of their full childhood, Marvel hates sharing any information like that, but we can extrapolate a fair amount.

(also, just so everyone knows, this jealousy did not pave the way for their relationship in later comics, namely Blindspot. In that it’s very clearly stated that Barney was found by Egghead to still be slightly alive. He was then held onto, for nefarious reasons, in a healing chamber, until he was found by Baron Zemo years later who then manipulated Barney against his brother so that Baron Zemo could get his revenge against Clint Barton. I’ll say it again, Barney was used against his own brother by an evil guy who hated Clint because Clint slept with Zemo’s wife; that is where the “Cain and Abel” dynamic comes from – not childhood)

Back on the tangentially related topic I was writing about. This jealousy grows until Jacques DuQuesne leaves after Clint finds out about his illegal dealings ( though the all new hawkeye actually kinda, maybe, a little, I’m unsure, retcons this with Clint finding out about it much earlier, when he finds out about Jacques having Barney stealing from people and places and finds the hidden cache of a gun, money and some other things under Jacques’ bed??? I don’t know, I’m now a little confused if Jacques still fucks off thanks to that comic ) - of course, this is after Jacques chases Clint through the circus, cutting the high wire Clint tried to hide on. Barney tells Clint, while his brother is in the hospital (and in literally a comic that got retconned basically) that he should’ve kept his mouth shut and stuck by Jacques no matter what (can we say that that sounds like trauma?? because guess what, psych 101 says that that’s kinda sounding like trauma since Jacques was trash to these kids, like literally, fuck Jacques DuQuesne – all my friends hate him – he’s an interesting villain but fuck the whitewashing of his bullshit).

This doesn’t sour their relationship at all – no seriously, it doesn’t which uh shows that neither of them really take each other at face value anymore – and they go back to the circus, Clint heals up, starts working with Buck (a man currently being written out of the comics world which is a shame because he’s kinda important but kinda not) and then Barney decides he wants out. With Barney in the army, Clint continues down the crime street and well, now that we’ve got a bit of background (over 800 words of background), let’s get onto what their relationship is really like for Claire and Barney.

Simply put, like in the comic relationship with Clint and Barney, Barney is a protective older brother, he taught Claire how to fight and aim, how to patch up simple bruises and cuts, taught her to drink her first shot (at like age fourteen, but like what do you expect when that boy was drinking much younger???). He was her first teacher, her best teacher – yes their relationship got complicated; it’s Claire when isn’t her relationships complicated – but at the end of the day, he helped shape her into who she was.

Less simply put…

He is her everything—in all the P L A T O N I C (I’m emphasizing platonic because please don’t take this in the romantic sense, they’re fucked up but not like that; I am not Marvel, I don’t ship siblings and pretend that shit is fine.) sense of the word—he was her guardian when all the guardians around her failed to properly take care of her; he was her brother who teased her and made fun of her; he was her best friend who understood what she went through, the only other person who did; he taught her as much schooling as she would sit down and listen to, he taught her how to cook herself some basic food.

He was a father, a mother, a brother, a best friend, a moral compass – which is why when he went off to the Army, Claire found it a betrayal. She hated him for the time that he was gone, though she forgave him not long before she first shot him because she could understand that to him  (the little purple box in the third panel: Carnival of Death, of course this is how Barney would remember things) the circus was never a home, just another temporary place to stay. 

(btw this is “shooting barney” thing that is part of my main verse, is canon. Clint shot his brother, who was working undercover as a bodyguard, while Clint was breaking into a mansion with the aforementioned soon-to-be-retconned-I’m-sure-of-it Buck Chisholm, which led to Buck shooting Clint in the shoulder when he refused to leave his brother’s body and pinning him to a tree – I don’t quite recall how Clint got out of getting arrested, I’m pretty sure it never explained, but I’m rusty and not really up for pulling out some old comics to read up on) 

(I lied, here’s the comic strip: 1. 2. Clint “somehow” managed to get free, take his brother to the hospital and then leave??? yeah sure. )

Anyway, let’s get on with it. So if that was their relationship when they were younger, what is it like now?? Now that Claire has found a place – a sturdy, yet unsteady, comfortable, yet spartan, to call her own –

( and yes, this sounds angsty, but Clint has issues accepting that he is where he wants to be – Clint is always running, even when standing completely still. It’s a trauma response to his shitty childhood where they never stayed in one place for too long; even when their parents were alive, they moved from above the family butcher shop to the Barton farm. Barney had it too, but apparently a relationship helped with that (and okay, look I love Simone and Barney, but that part in All New Hawkeye rubbed me wrong as a fellow wandering child turned rootless adult; the guy needs therapy, not just a relationship – but then again, Barney Barton does not get agency or a personality outside of Clint Barton; his life must revolve around Clint Barton, even when he was on the Dark Avengers, it was about Clint – and yeah, they’re brothers, “two sides of the same coin”, and all that jazz but like I’ve got three sisters and a brother, I’m my own person at the end of the day – something Barney Barton cannot say, which means ending his story on the note of retirement and falling in love is just the best thing so they don’t have to keep finding a reason to try to remember that Clint has a brother   I’ll stop with the rant, I’m sorry.) )

   where does a man who no longer has to be a father, mother, brother, best friend, and moral compass stand when his sister has all that? Well, for the most part, he stands next to her – in my main verse at least. After he has come back wrong (Buffy much?), he finds his place standing beside his sister, no longer solely protecting her from the world (as he had always done because the world is not kind to lost little girls or boys), because he’s learned that she can, for the most part, protect herself, and Claire finds herself less on a lower standing (less of a burden in her eyes, less of a child in need of comfort) with her brother, but more like an equal, something that’s a bit of a new situation for the both of them.

In truth, Claire’s relationship with Barney is complicated and messy but it’s hers, and when you have something that’s complicated and messy, you have to figure it out, and that’s what, in my canon, she’s doing. Sure Barney isn’t around a lot - he’s got his own shit to figure out - but he’s her brother, and she loves him, and he loves her and they’re trying to get to a place where they don’t accidentally poke the trauma they’ve got and ruin a good thing. 

......

Okay, so like did any of this make sense??? I don’t know. I guess, to sum it up really quick, in my main verse - and most of my canon - I’d say Claire’s relationship with Barney is slightly yet not really awkward – it’s awkward because once upon a time, it was simple. Yet at the same time, it’s a really important relationship because Claire was shaped by her brother (and of course all those shitty adults because there are no good mentors in the Marvel world, not for kids at least).

Idk, this is really just me rambling. Like I should just state that tis is just Mun taking all the retcons that Marvel stuck her babies through and trying to make sense of them along with a healthy dose of a smattering of psychology shoved all about because unlike Marvel, I have no desire to ignore the C-PTSD/PTSD that seems to follow both boys around thanks to their childhood – of course this crazy amount of words actually kinda ignores all the trauma they have as adults, but that’s a whole nother post for some other day

I also know that I carry some ~controversial ~ barney barton views - ie. he’s not a villain and that him and clint share a close relationship, that he isn’t dumb muscle (bitch got a 1350 SAT score with like minimal schooling, i’d like to see you do that) and that he wasn’t a shit older brother when they were kids - i’m not apologizing for them. not at all. i will never apologize for them. characters are more than one dimensional and if i gotta be the one to wade through all this vague ass bullshit to get those other two dimensions then i’m going to do just that, which i have done. 

plus it doesn’t even matter because through all the retcons clint and barney has gone through, this is what their relationship is; a fucked up dysfunctional sibling relationship gone off the rails when Barney was brought back from the dead and manipulated/brainwashed into hating his brother. it eventually got better, how? we’ve got none of that, but it did and and at the end of the day, as clint said:

[honeypiehotchner]

Covered Memories -- part 1

TW for mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, paranoia(?), sadness. Stay safe lovelies.

Here is the Sherlock I promised. It has a couple parts, so I’m going to let this one settle before I give you the next (I’m also editing it as I reread it haha). This was inspired by Billie Eilish’s song “listen before i go” but you don’t need to listen to it while reading or anything. Enjoy! Love you guys xx.

I went to sleep watching Sherlock and woke up on a bus in London.

           It sounds crazier than it actually is, I promise.

           Just kidding, it’s absolutely insane. I’m on a fucking bus in London and I’m from Ohio. I’m from the United States of fucking America, and I somehow woke up on a bus in England.

           I didn’t realize where I was at first, to be completely honest. I didn’t recognize it. The first dead giveaway was that the bus was driving on the wrong side of the road – well, the correct side here, but the wrong side to me completely.

           I’m still in my pajamas, and I’m a little more than thankful that last night I fell asleep in a hoodie and leggings. At least I’m not half naked on a bus in downtown London.

           Things could be a lot worse than they are, that’s for sure.

           But the situation I’m in also isn’t exactly okay. I don’t have my purse, my phone, or any damn shoes on my feet. I don’t even have my damn glasses, so walking around is going to be a little more than challenging, which is partly why I’ve stayed on this bus for longer than I should.

           Eventually, though, I figure I’ve been on here for long enough, so I decide to step down and onto the sidewalk.

           Okay, bad idea. Foreign city, foreign person, and I have no earthly idea where I’m at or where I should go.

           One piece at a time. Okay, I have no money, so a cab ride is out of the park. And so is…basically everything else.

           Okay.

           When one wakes up in London, what does one do – especially if one has never been to London before?

           I have no earthly idea.

           The only knowledge I have of London is from the show I fell asleep watching – Sherlock – and even then, it’s a TV show. It’s fiction.

           My eyes widen at the idea that just came into my head.

           I know, logically, that Sherlock Holmes does not exist. He’s a fictional character, but in knowing that, I know that the show itself is pretty popular. I know a lot about said show. And I know that Baker Street is actually a real place. There’s a museum there now, or something.

           Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well take advantage. I’ve always wanted to come to the museum, and since I’m here basically for free, I’m going to go see it.

           Strange that I’m not freaking out right now, I know. I don’t know why I’m not freaking out either. I don’t think it has sunk in just yet. It always takes me a good week to really process things, actually, but who knows what that’s about.

           Okay, Baker Street. I need to find my way to Baker Street.

           Because I have no other option, I walk up to the least scary looking woman on the sidewalk with me, tapping her shoulder. Thankfully, she looks to be around my age, so she doesn’t seem too alarmed by me tapping her.

           “Hi, you wouldn’t happen to know where the Sherlock Holmes museum is, would you?”

           She smiles, sort of knowingly and nods. “You’re lookin’ for Sherlock Holmes?”

           “Yes…” I nod slowly, not sure if she’s messing with me and is about to tell me to get lost, but she doesn’t.

           “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

           If she wasn’t also a female and young, then I would not have followed her, but she looks like she means well, and knows where she’s going, which is evident when I vaguely see the awning to the museum in the distance.

           “So, what’s up with you?”

           I blink, letting out a weak laugh. “What?”

           “Why do you need to see Sherlock Holmes?” She clarifies. “What’s your case?”

           Okay, now I’m not sure if she’s the one who knows Sherlock Holmes doesn’t exist. I don’t even know how to respond to her.

           “Oh, I’m not supposed to be here right now,” I shrug. “Just wondering if maybe he could…help me out.”

           “Sounds interesting,” she nods seriously. “Well, it’s just up there. I’ve gotta get to work. Nice meeting you.”

           “Yeah, you too…” I furrow my eyebrows, watching her cross the street.

           I shake my head, rubbing my face with my hands. This no longer feels as concerning as it feels strange. Especially after that interaction.

           I continue walking, continue feeling the concrete underneath my bare feet as I walk. I come up on the awning of the museum only to find it’s…it’s not the museum. It’s Speedy’s Café.

           But Speedy’s isn’t here. Speedy’s isn’t supposed to be on this street – They don’t actually film the show at the exact 221B Baker Street. They film it on North Gower Street, everyone knows that.

           I look up at the brick building, and sure enough, she led me to Baker Street, where the museum should be, but it’s Speedy’s.

           I shake my head again, walking past the building to find someone else. I cast a quick glance at the door next to it, doing a doubletake when I see the golden 221B on the outside.

           “This day is just getting weirder and weirder,” I sigh.

           I rub at my eyes, stepping closer to see if it’s my eyes just playing a trick on me, but it’s not. It really does say 221B on the outside. Complete with the knocker turned to the side like Sherlock keeps it.

           Okay, stop it. Sherlock Holmes is fictional. He keeps it that way in his fictional world. This is the real world, and yes, it’s short circuiting right now, it’s still reality.

           It’s short circuiting? Really? I just woke up on a bus halfway across the globe after going to sleep in my apartment, and the best answer my brain can come up with is that the world is short circuiting?

           Just for that, I’m going to ring the doorbell. Just once. If nothing happens, then I’ll go…find the police station, I don’t know.

           Without giving it a single second thought, I step up, and briefly press the doorbell.

           Nothing happens. Literally, nothing. Which gives me the impression that this is the flat they film in, and that it’s just made to look like it really is Baker Street, even though everyone knows it’s just North Gower.

           I scoff to myself, feeling silly for even entertaining the idea, turning around to walk the other way. It’s when I turn my back that I hear the sound of the door opening, followed by an all too familiar voice.

           “Ma’am, wait!”

           I freeze. Absolutely not. There’s no absolute way that could be him.

           I take a deep breath, slowly turning myself back around, coming face to face with the man I’ve only ever seen on my laptop or phone screen.

           John Watson.

           No…it’s not. It’s Martin Freeman, come on, John Watson doesn’t actually exist. He’s a fictional character.

           “Would you like to come in?” He asks, stepping back and gesturing inside.

           My legs move before I tell them to, walking me inside the flat. I wait until John closes the door, before I turn back around to look at him.

           I probably look more than startled because he returns the expression, furrowing his eyebrows.

           “Are you alright?”

           “…no.”

           “Alright, well, come upstairs. I’ll get Mrs. Hudson to make you a cuppa.”

           I let him guide me up the stairs, checking on me every few steps to make sure I haven’t fainted, I’m sure. I’m not feeling faint, but I know I must look white as a sheet.

           This is just wrong. And not real. I’m dreaming. Surely, this is just a dream.

           “Mrs. Hudson, would you make…”

           He looks to me for my name, so I answer him. “Liz.”

           “Liz here a cuppa, please?”

           Mrs. Hudson – yes, the Mrs. Hudson I’ve seen in the show, Una Stubbs – nods, frowning. “Of course, dear. Are you alright? You look a little spooked.”

           “Yeah…I’m…I’m spooked,” I let out a breathy chuckle.

I glance around the apartment – flat, they’re flats here – with wide eyes. Everything is the same. The yellow smiley face ridden with bullet holes is on the wall above the couch. The messy coffee table that Sherlock always steps over is in front of the couch. The wall itself has various pictures and things pinned up, but I can’t see them clearly enough to know if it’s anything I’d recognize.

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Hudson hands me a cup of steaming tea. “Drink that and it should make you feel better.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H.”

John freezes, staring at me with wide eyes. “Mrs. H?”

“I’m sorry, force of habit,” I grimace. I’m ruining this already.

“Habit? Do you know Mrs. Hudson?”

“No, I—” I sigh. “It’s not a long story, but it’s really complicated, and I’m still trying to process everything right now and— Oh my God.”

The grip on my tea loosens completely, the cup falling from my hands and shattering at my feet. Standing before me is the man I’ve watched on a screen for years. Sherlock Holmes.

He finishes buttoning his blazer, raising an eyebrow. “Client?”

John answers, whilst cleaning up the broken shards of the teacup. “Yeah, I think. She said it’s complicated.” He stands, tossing them into the trashcan that Mrs. Hudson brought over before taking the towel from her to soak up the tea.

“It always is,” Sherlock dismisses John’s answer, holding his hand out to you. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“I know,” I blurt, immediately smacking myself in the forehead. I take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I mean, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Liz. Liz Singleton.”

“Singleton,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes. “I know that name.”

“You do?”

“Yes…I’m not sure from where. Well, it’ll come to me soon enough.” He walks around me, pulling the chair out from under the table and sitting it in the middle of the floor. “Have a seat, Miss Singleton and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“I want to stand, actually,” I say, the past moments’ events coming back to me. “I’m sorry about the cup, Mrs. H. I’m having delayed reactions to things.”

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got plenty others. Sherlock has a bad habit of breaking them.”

I smile softly, turning back to Sherlock, only to find him staring me down. Deducing me, most likely, so I brace myself for the onslaught of accusations and truths I’m not aware of.

“Why do you speak to Mrs. Hudson with such familiarity?”

I pause, nodding slowly. “That’s part of my story.”

Sherlock sighs tiredly. “Go on, then.” He stays standing as well, continuing to look me over while John sits down in his chair.

“I’m not from here.”

“Yes, I gathered that from your alarming American accent.”

Ignoring the ‘alarming’ adjective, I continue. “I’m from Ohio. The state in the U.S. Thing is, I went to sleep there last night. But I woke up about an hour ago on a bus in downtown London.” My heart is pounding in my chest, the severity of what’s happening finally settling in now that I’ve said it aloud. “Any ideas, Mr. Holmes?”

“A few,” he mutters. “Those are clearly pajamas and judging by your lack of shoes, the sleeping bit does make sense.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “What were you doing last night?”

“That’s,” I pause to chuckle. “That’s the kicker, really, because I was watching you.”

His arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry?”

“There’s a show, on BBC, it’s called Sherlock. It’s about you and John and Mrs. Hudson,” I swallow thickly. “And Molly, and Lestrade, and Mary.”

“Mary? Who’s Mary?”

“No one,” I cover quickly, not entirely sure what I’ve done, but I know it isn’t good. It sounds ridiculous, but I must be in the world before he met Mary, so before…before the Reichenbach. “Just a random person. But my point is, it’s a TV show. I was watching it when I fell asleep last night, and I woke up on a bus here, in London. And now I’m talking to you. And you’re not supposed to exist – none of you are. You’re fictional characters. I thought when I first got here that it was a little weird, but I was coming here to see the museum. There’s supposed to be a Sherlock Holmes museum here, not this flat. This flat isn’t supposed to exist – none of it is.”

I turn in a circle, looking at everything I’ve seen over the years. I used to dream about visiting this flat – visiting the set and sitting down in John’s chair or grazing my fingers over the smiley face on the wall, but now I’m here and I don’t even want to be. Now I’m here, and this is the worst nightmare I could ever imagine.

I stop, pointing at John, my mind spinning. “You. Your name isn’t John Watson, it’s supposed to be Martin Freeman. And you,” I point at Sherlock. “Your name isn’t Sherlock Holmes, it’s supposed to be Benedict Cumberbatch.”

           John laughs loudly. “What kind of a name is that?”

           “You played Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit,” I tell John—Martin. He’s Martin. “And Ian McKelpie in Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. And you,” I turn back around to Benedict. “You played Khan in Star Trek. And Alan Turing in The Imitation Game. You guys are actors.” I cover my face with my hands. “This is one weird dream. I need to wake up.” I open my eyes, looking dead at Benedict. “Punch me.”

           “I’m sorry?”

           “Punch me. Right now. Knock me out in here, so it’ll wake me up back home.”

           “I’m not going to punch you, Miss Singleton.” He pauses. “Because I think I know what’s going on here.”

           John looks as surprised as I am. “You’re serious?”

           “Yes, John, I’m quite serious,” Sherlock tucks his hands behind him. “I’m at the height of my fame. You know that because we’ve been in the papers almost every day for the last month.”

           “No idea where you’re going with this, Sherlock.”

           “Oh, come on, open your eyes,” Sherlock cries. “Look at her outfit, look at her eyes. She’s an addict, clearly still high, and one of her delusions is that there’s a TV show starring the both of us. The TV show is incredibly popular, I’m assuming, which falls into the current pattern of my own popularity.” He turns to me. “I suggest you find your own way back home.”

           “What—”

           “Leave,” he points to the door. “I don’t have time to solve the delusions of an addict when there are more pressing issues on my mind.”

           I stare at him, thinking maybe he’s kidding with me, but it’s clear on his face that he’s not. I look to John and he doesn’t say anything. Why would he? They don’t know who I am here. I’m not supposed to be here.

           “Fine,” I mutter. “Sorry for bothering you.”

           I turn and exit the flat, stepping slowly down the stairs. I let myself focus on how the wood feels beneath my bare feet, something I was too dazed to feel when I first walked up. Now I’m feeling entirely too many emotions all at once and the stairs don’t feel magical beneath my feet, they just hurt. Like a million splinters being stabbed into my skin all at once. It’s not a dream like I wanted it to be. This is a literal nightmare.

           I stop at the bottom, letting my hand linger on the railing for just a moment longer. This is the first and last time I’ll ever be in 221B Baker Street and it couldn’t have gone any further from how I wanted.

           “Wait!”

           I ignore the voice – it’s John, but why does he care? – and pull open the front door, slamming it as I step out onto the sidewalk. I barely get past Speedy’s when I feel an arm on my shoulder, turning me around, making me face John Watson – stupid John Watson—

           “What do you want?”

           He removes his hand rather quickly, holding both up in surrender. “Hey, sorry.”

           I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”

           He hesitates, gathering his words. “Is what you said—Is it true? Is there a TV show about us?”

           I roll my eyes. “I’m not having this conversation right now.” I turn around, walking down the sidewalk, and much to my dissatisfaction, John follows beside me.

           “I just… I know what an addict looks like, and you’re not one. You looked too scared when I opened the door earlier and you walked around the flat like you’ve been there before—”

           “You know what?” I stop walking, turning to face him. “The show – You two idiots have gotten me through the roughest points of my life, alright? I’ve watched the show over and over until I could speak Sherlock’s dialogue in perfect timing, I’ve paused scenes to examine the background, I’ve even paused scenes to try to deduce things that Sherlock doesn’t to see what piece of the puzzle he doesn’t explain. So yes, I walked in there like I’d been there before, because I feel like I have. I used to want to live in this world more than my own, but that was a mistake because now that I am here – I don’t even want to be. I just want to go home. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw myself off a building and hope I wake up back in my bed. In my home. Because this doesn’t feel like home anymore. And I was so stupid to think it could’ve been.”

           John’s frown deepens the more that I speak, and part of me thinks I see tears in his eyes when I finish. But it doesn’t matter what I see because this isn’t real, and it never is going to be.

           “Good night, Dr. Watson,” I breathe, blinking and realizing the tears I see are actually in my own eyes. I sniffle, pressure rising in my chest as I try to hold back a sob. And I can’t cry about this in front of him, so I turn and leave, biting my sleeve to keep myself under control until I turn the corner, collapsing against the building in a fit of sobs that wrack my body.

           This is the biggest mess I’ve ever been in. If this is some trick the universe is trying to play on me to tell me that I had it good back home, despite the shit I went through, then that’s fine. I get it, Universe. Lesson learned. Take me back home now, please.

[saiilorstars]

It Had To Be You

Ch.28: Rogue Ending // Story Masterlist

Fandom: The Flash

Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Belén and Barry enlist Snart to help them transport metahumans out of the city all while they continue to figure out how to move on from the fact Belén almost dated Cisco.

"In precisely two days the Particle Accelerator is set to get back online," Wells stood before Rayan and Angie "And knowing the Flash he will want to protect those inside the pipeline so he'll move them. That's when we strike."

"But I get Azul out?" Angie made sure to know before she was to do anything he asked. "He shouldn't die with the rest of the rodents you caught."

"You can do whatever you want with those metahumans - I could care less. I need to get back into the Accelerator and in the meanwhile you're going to keep good old STAR Labs busy. And do you hear me?" Thawne specifically looked at Rayan for that one. "Only keep them busy. You don't kill-"

"-your precious Flash, yes I understand," Rayan said plainly, though it seemed like he wasn't paying much attention. His eyes were locked on a water pipe above them that was dripping water. Every now and then some water drops were stopped midway and forced back into the pipe. "But my sister's free game and I so want to see her again."

Thawne watched him for a minute as the metahuman repeatedly shoved water back into the pipe. Though his health was deteriorating, Rayan was becoming much more skilled with his powers. His telekinesis was developing finely to the point of almost being able to control a human's actions. If he wanted to, Rayan could put up an interesting fight.

"Is your silent stare supposed to mean something?" Rayan asked without looking away from the pipe.

"I'm just wondering..." Thawne purposely trailed off.

Rayan's gaze shifted down to the man. "Wondering what?"

"If you could actually kill your own sister - your twin."

Thawne's smirk only irritated Rayan. "I'm sorry, your condescending-murdering self is asking me if I am capable of killing someone? Seriously?"

"You're talking about killing your own blood, Rayan. It's pretty cold. Can you look Belén in the eyes and kill her?"

"Spare me the talk," Rayan turned his back on the speedster. "I don't have siblings anymore, so...what happens will happen."

And he truly meant that.

~ 0 ~

The group except for Iris stood in the cortex listening to Cisco and his apparent discovery of Wells' old wheelchair. "I kept asking myself, why would Wells pretend to need a wheelchair?" Cisco made a round on the wheelchair, taking occasional sips of his soda.

"Sympathy, I suppose," Caitlin shrugged, everyone else agreeing with her with nods.

Cisco smirked. "That's what I thought at first, but he's the man in yellow. He's the Reverse-Flash. He's much smarter than that. Sympathy can't be the only reason."

"Yeah, it was a misdirect. Just like everything else Wells has done," Joe agreed, although they still didn't understand Cisco's point. "I mean, the last person we'd suspect to be the man in yellow is someone who lost the use of their legs."

"That's exactly right, Joe. Which is why I started messing around with the wheelchair," Cisco put down his soda on the floor and then turned over the wheelchair. He pulled a compartment lid out and revealed some sort of device stuck inside. "And that's when I found this."

"Daaaamn. You can't get that at Radio Shack," Joe's eyes widened.

"Looks like the tech inside Gideon…" Barry remarked as he looked at the device and only the device. Cisco didn't push him further.

"I measured the output, and this thing is kicking off serious juice. I mean, we're talking enough to power all of Central City."

"Why would Dr. Wells want something like that?" Belén quietly asked.

"I think this thing is some kind of battery…"

"Battery?"

"As in, Wells was using it to power himself. To gain more speed," Cisco gave a brief glance to Barry. "And that's why he's so much faster than you."

Barry, in return, gave a small nod of acknowledgement but nothing more. Cisco still didn't push.

One of the computers from the main desk began to beep with an alarm. Cisco rushed over with his soda back in hand and looked at the screen. "The accelerator, it's been reactivated!"

Caitlin hurried over to see for herself. "It can't be!"

"How is that possible? It blew up," Joe said what the remainder had been thinking of.

"It had to have been rebuilt," Caitlin theorized after checking more of the accelerator's state.

"That could...only be done by Wells, no?" Belén blinked, her stomach churning.

Caitlin agreed with Belén but was still having trouble seeing its logic. "Even if he did rebuild it, how did Dr. Wells turn the Particle Accelerator on?"

And then it clicked in Barry's mind. "He's here. That's why we couldn't find him. He's been inside S.T.A.R. Labs the whole time."

He and Joe hurried for the hallways. Cisco made to leave but warned Caitlin and Belén to stay behind. He rushed out but returned in a second for his soda, ignoring the odd looks from the two women.

Joe led the way into pipeline with a gun aimed ahead in case anything popped up. "Cisco, what did you bring in that orange soda for?"

"Whenever something happens with the Reverse-Flash, liquid floats in the air. You know, Barry's fish tank, Wells's champagne, remember that? If this does the same thing, we'll know that Wells is in there."

They stopped in front of the pipeline. Barry glanced at Cisco, for the first time, and nodded. "Do it."

Cisco placed a hand on the computer beside the pipeline to open it up. As the door lifted, the three stepped into the actual accelerator.

"Man... this... is... big," Joe couldn't help being astounded at the sight of the incredibly large particle accelerator.

Cisco froze when his soda began to rise in midair. "Oh, God. Guys…"

Wells sped right past them and of course Barry sped after him.

"Barry!" Joe turned after the two speedster that were already far gone.

'Prisoner release. Protocol initiated.'

Cisco saw one of the prison pods begin to love forwards. "Oh, no, no, no, no!"

It turned out to be Shawna's prison pod - aka Peek-a-boo - and soon as the pod lost its power, she disappeared. She reappeared behind Joe and headbutted him with his own gun before disappearing again. She reappeared on the other side of the pipeline and shot a machinery part that forced the door to close, leaving Cisco and Joe on the other side.

Caitlin and Belén had run down after the release protocol had been activated.

"Peek-a-boo," Shawna smirked at them.

Belén grabbed Caitlin's arm and yanked her down the hallway. But, Shawna appeared before them at the entrance of the building and kicked Belén back before hitting Caitlin over the head.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to be stuck in that box?" Shawna kicked Caitlin on the stomach and watched as the brunette rolled on the floor.

"She didn't lock you up! I did!" Belén rushed forwards and tried punching Shawna old style. Shawna was well prepared for a basic fight and grabbed Belén by the hair, smacking the metahuman against the wall.

Belén hissed as she slid down the wall. Shawna grasped her by the neck and pinned her on the wall while aiming the gun at her. "Now you're the one who's gonna go into a box. In the ground!"

Belén could actually feel her skin prickling as it turned green. As of late, there were many things she was angry about and Shawna poked at the last bit of patience Belén had. Shawna flinched when Belén's hand grasped her arm.

"It's either the pod or the coffin for you," Belén warned before her vines drifted from her fingers to Shawna's wrist.

"Ew! What is that!?" Shawna freaked when the vines embedded on her skin. "Get it off me!" she cried while the vines crawled up her arm.

Belén smirked without even moving an inch. She was clearly enjoying her powers at work and was somewhat disappointed when Shawna was whacked on the head with a large, metal wrench courtesy of Iris.

"Those are some wicked powers you have," Iris admitted after a second. She could see the vines on Shawna's skin slowly disappearing now that they had no contact with Belén.

"New side and all," Belén reminded with a light shrug. She moved to help Caitlin from the floor when she groaned. "My head hurts."

"You may have a concussion," Caitlin predicted while she got up with Iris' help.

"Of course I do."

~0~

While Caitlin checked herself and Belén in the cortex, the rest went to return Shawna to her prison pod. Caitlin pulled the flashlight from Belén's eyes and set it over the metal table.

"I was right, you do have a concussion so…"

"Staying awake, got it," Belén nodded. She sighed after a moment and looked up at Caitlin. "Sorry I didn't get Shawna before she kicked you. I think I panicked in the beginning..."

"It's okay, it happens to all of us sometimes," Caitlin returned, looking very honest but Belén still blamed herself for letting things get that far.

"I've been off my game lately," Belén said even though she thought it was pretty obvious to everyone.

Caitlin smiled sadly, knowing how difficult things were for her friends at the moment. Despite the three having some unofficial agreement to continue working to capture Wells, Belén, Barry and Cisco didn't interact how they used to. It was all short, brief sentences when it came to speaking with Barry. Even between Belén and Cisco their conversations were short and brief because they didn't want to give Barry another reason to be upset.

"He'll come around," Caitlin put a comforting hand on Belén's arm.

"I don't know about that..." Belén mumbled.

"I hope," Belén said honestly. It'd been days, after all, since their fallout.

Their conversation was cut short when Joe and Iris brought in none other than Eddie from the pipeline. Cisco hurried in behind them and explained where they found the weakened detective. Caitlin immediately ran some exams on him in case Wells had done anything. After a thorough checkover, Caitlin concluded he was only a bit dehydrated and other than that he'd be fine. Barry returned after a long chase after Wells without success. Despite his tiredness, he was incredibly relieved to find Eddie had been found.

"Eddie, why did he take you?" Joe asked Eddie after everything had been settled.

"I don't know. He said that we're... family. Said his real name was Eobard Thawne," Eddie shook his head, still trying to come to terms with the idea of him and Wells being related.

"Eobard Thawne?" Cisco dreaded the familiarity of that name. "Just like in my dream."

"Did he say anything else?" Joe further asked. "I mean, anything that could help us figure out what he's really after?"

"I... he didn't say much," Eddie felt bad he couldn't be much help. "He just kept working on some tube."

"A tube? What did it look like?"

"Metallic, futuristic. He said it was the key to him getting back everything that was taken from him."

"The key?" Barry felt even more lost. "I don't understand."

"Wha... Yeah, I don't know. Look, I just want to go home. Is that okay?"

Caitlin gently removed the tape holding the IV needle on Eddie's hand. "Yes, of course."

Iris helped Eddie stand. "I'll make sure he gets some rest."

Barry waited until Iris and Eddie were gone to continue speaking. "What do you think Wells was talking about?"

But then the computer went off again and Cisco, once more, went to check on it. "Oh, no, no, no!" he said with widened eyes and ran out the room without so much of a hint of the problem.

"Did anyone else get free again?" Belén sighed as she came to the desk herself.

"What?" Barry said without thinking. Belén raised her head at him, surprised that had actually been directed at her.

Caitlin sensed the new awkwardness and made to cut it. "Wells initiated the release of a metahuman which turned out to be Shawna's. Belén and Iris got her though."

Barry's eyes widened as he now stared at Belén. There was a pang in her heart as she recognized the glint of worry in his eyes.

Cisco's voice cut through the silence that fell over in the room. Belén was startled to find the computer in front of her now serving as a video chat with Cisco. The man stood in front of a rock wall with a metal tube glowing blue sitting behind.

"Cisco?" Joe and the others moved to the desk to see as well.

"Um, are you seeing this? That's the tube Eddie was talking about," Cisco nodded to the device. "It's some sort of future power source. That's what's charging up the accelerator."

"Can you shut it down?" Barry inquired.

"Do you see a power button anywhere on this thing?" Cisco's sarcasm dripped in his words. "Dude, this thing is from the future. It's beyond me. I press, or touch, or cut the wrong thing, I could bring the whole building down."

"Okay," Barry saw his error and accepted it. "How long until it's fully functional?"

"Best I can tell, 36 hours."

Barry nodded. "That's when Wells will be back."

"Why would Dr. Wells want the Particle Accelerator to work again?" Belén asked, looking at the others for some answers. "I thought the whole point was to make it not work?"

No one could answer her question.

"And what about the metahumans still in their containment cells?" Joe asked and made the others think for a bit.

Cisco shivered as he got the idea. "They're toast."

"We put them down there and now their lives are in danger because of us," Caitlin sighed as she got to thinking of the true danger those people were in.

"Look, I think you all know I've never been a fan of this arrangement here. I thought the whole plan was to rehabilitate them and set them free," Joe sternly told the group.

"It was," Caitlin argued but under the man's look she added weakly, "We've been a little busy."

"Well, if they stay in there, the die," Belén stated and sighed, "And if we let them go, they destroy the city. So...what do we do about them?"

Barry had been thinking about for a couple minutes now and concluded his idea was the only one they had left. "We're gonna have to move them."

Joe gave him a look. "Move them where? Iron Heights can't handle meta-humans."

"You're right, but Lian Yu can."

"What the hell's a "Lian Yu?"

Before Barry could explain, Belén did. "Lian Yu is the island where Oliver was stranded for five years. I heard A.R.G.U.S built some sort of covert military prison on it." She met eyes with a surprised Barry and added for his benefit, "He told me a while ago."

Barry tore his eyes from her, not quite ready to have a conversation with her...much to her disappointment. "It's where we sent Captain Boomerang. Oliver keeps his worst criminals there. They won't be able to escape, and more importantly, they won't be able to hurt anybody."

"Great. So we ship them from one illegal black site to another?" Joe was still not convinced with this idea, but he suspected it wouldn't matter. "And how do we move them to Oliver's own private Alcatraz?"

"I'll call him," Barry said, standing from his chair. "Maybe he can help with transport. And Cisco... if we do this, nobody can get loose."

Cisco nodded. "I might have a way of getting them out of here safely."

"Alright, get on it," Barry instructed and Cisco agreed, getting a head start out of the room.

"Barr, this is insane," Joe shook his head.

"Joe, we have to do this."

"You don't think that if we start bussing super-villains through downtown, nobody's gonna notice?"

"Oh, they'll notice. That's where you'll come in," Barry couldn't help smile as he began to tell his next part of the plan.

~ 0 ~

The next day, Belén was sitting silently at her desk, meant to be writing an article for the week yet her screen barely contained a measly paragraph. She had mind clouded with all sorts of thoughts ranging from the Particle Accelerator to her missing sister to...Barry. She mindlessly tapped her pen on the edge of her desk as she wondered what kind of solutions she could offer in case their primary one would fail.

Hearing her cellphone ringing, Belén forced herself to pay attention. She looked at the caller and saw it was Cisco.

"H-hello?"

"Bells, listen, we need you to come in," Cisco began, and sounding disappointed Belén deduced their plan hadn't worked.

"We need another idea, don't we?"

"Yeah...Joe couldn't get the CCPD to work with them," Cisco sighed. "Barry's coming over to think again, but...it would be good if you came too."

"Yeah, yeah...okay, I'm coming," Belén hung up and put her phone down on the desk. She rubbed her face and faced her screen again.

"Hey," Iris stopped by her desk with some papers in her hands. "Look what just got dumped on my desk?" she waved her papers in the air, leaving Belén to guess.

"A new assignment?"

"Not my assignment," Iris rolled her eyes. "Spencer Young just got fired so I got her topic."

"She got fired?" Belén looked to the empty desk that once belonged to their co-worker. "Since when?"

"Since yesterday - where have you been?" Iris knew it was a dumb question to ask since Belén hadn't exactly been paying attention to her surroundings for days. "Larkin finally caught up with her lying words and fired her, soooo I now get her unfinished work."

"Well, serves her right for not being an honest journalist," Belén said with a careless shrug afterwards. She hardly passed words with the ex-employee and it was for a good reason: she was mean. "So what's the topic about?"

"A spree of robberies done with - and I quote-" Iris made a quotation mark in the air with one hand while the other held the paper to read from, "-a freeze ray gun, a firey gun, and a golden gun. Sound familiar?"

A big scowl came to Belén's face. "Seriously, the last thing we need is for the Rogues to be back."

"Mhm, I'll do some digging on them but I don't think they'll be doing any more crimes since their thing is to do a series of robberies then disappear," Iris put her papers back together.

"I'll pass on the message to the others just in case," Belén said once Iris got leaving. She returned to her computer with the intention of continuing on her assignment - this time for real - when an idea popped into her head. Oh, you're crazy.

She snagged her phone back from the desk and dialed for a different number.

~ 0 ~

Barry was shifting on the park bench he was sitting on. The mere place brought back memories that reminded Barry of what he didn't have at the moment. He wondered if this was a trick being played on him, just to toy with his mind. Well, he didn't have more time to think on it when he saw Belén walking up to him.

"You came," Belén said with a sigh of relief. She was worried that Barry wouldn't show up at the last moment because of their disagreements. While they hadn't exactly argued, it was still pretty clear they were not in the best places. Belén didn't want to push Barry into talking when he had shown no interest in doing the same.

"I said I would," Barry reminded and got up. "Though I don't think I can care for this precise stop," his eyes flickered to the nearby fountain.

"Sorry, I just...needed to talk in a place where no one would bother us," Belén said, biting her lip, "I think I have an idea on how to get the metahumans out of the city."

"You do?" Barry's eyebrows rose with curiosity.

"But I don't think you'll like it…"

"Let me hear it."

"Iris just told me the Rogues are back in the city," Belén knew it was a big thing to say so she started to ramble on her evidence, "There were recent crime scenes that left a specific evidence trail to them. The police are very sure that Captain Cold is back in the city and doing his usual spree of crimes - I mean there's been frozen part of buildings that only a cold gun can do along with the occasional golden trails which really means that his sister is with him this time-"

"Belén, breathe!" Barry had put his hands on her arms to stop her from her rapid rambling. Belén blinked and blushed as she saw him so up close. Barry had realized what he'd done and instantly let her go, taking even a step backwards to get his head clear. "Just...just take a pause and breathe," he repeated nervously.

Glumly, Belén continued on with her original plan. "I was thinking we could find Snart and ask for his help."

"What!?"

"Snart is the only one crazy and tough enough to help us with all these metas! And since Oliver's not answering I think this is our only option."

Barry stayed quiet as he thought about it. He had tried getting in contact with Stein and Ronnie too but couldn't get through. Without the CCPD's help either, they really didn't have much options left. "Okay," he gave in. "I'll find Snart and talk to him-"

"Nu-uh," Belén cut him off with a frown. "We will and before you open that mouth to tell me 'no', I'm reminding you that this was my idea."

"You are not going," Barry gave her a sharp look but Belén wasn't stepping down.

In fact, just to prove herself, she stepped closer to him again, looking up at him defiantly. "Who says?"

"Belén…" Barry forced himself to look down at her without backing down as well. But in reality, he was beginning to fall under her charmful gaze and scent. God, I miss her, was all that ran through his mind.

Belén's eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, and continued to make her case. "It's my idea and I'm not letting you take it just like that. So either you take me with you, or you get to discover how mad a poisonous Azalea can get."

"Is that a threat?" Barry raised an eyebrow, feeling a tingle down his back as her lips stretched into a smirk.

"Take it however you'd like." Belén was pretty sure she was causing an effect on him judging by the fascinated look in Barry's eyes...and it made her feel pretty damn special knowing she was still the only one that could make him feel like that. "So, what's it going to be?"

Barry swallowed hard. "Well...lead the way, Miss Azalea."

~ 0 ~

It wasn't difficult to find out where Snart tended to spend some time after looking at some of the evidence left behind with the CCPD. Barry let Belén walk first into a solitary, pretty slum-looking bar where Leonard Snart was at. Barry didn't like the idea of having to bring Belén along but apparently he was out-charmed here.

Snart was able to sense their presence and turned from the counter with an unexpected smile. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the scarlet speedster." His eyes then flickered to the brunette woman and his smile turned to a smirk. "And shooter-girl."

"For real? I have a name," Belén frowned.

Barry didn't care for the interest Snart had in Belén and spoke over them to get things moving. "We need to talk."

With raised eyebrows, Snart moved over to them and took a casual seat on the edge of the pool table near them. "Oh? And you went looking for little ole me?"

"Shut up," Belén spoke over again. "We need your help with a problem."

"Mm, that's not the first time someone of yours asks for my help," Snart tilted his head her way with a knowing smile. Belén, startled, looked up at Barry out of reflex. Before Barry could snap at him, Snart went on. "Must be pretty desperate to come asking for my assistance, but I'll bite. What do you need?"

"Help transporting some people out of the city," Barry was able to say without showcasing his irritation with him.

"How many?"

"Six. Six very bad, very angry people who have powers."

"Powers, hmm? So you want me to what? Freeze the problem?" Snart looked at both who nodded their heads. "Protect you from them if anything goes wrong? First rule of business: always protect yourself. I'm not gonna help usher your enemies out of town."

"Oh, but you consorted with others to get what you want," Belén snapped. "Listen you're gonna do it because you need to do it."

"Oh, and why is that?" Snart feigned incredible interest in what she had to say, irritating both metahumans even more.

"These people are your enemies as well-"

"I doubt it-"

"They will destroy Central City which is your city as well," Belén paused, hoping he'd get the point but apparently not as he responded with a very easy 'not my problem'. "Imagine a city you can't rob because there's no more people to rob because they're all dead?"

Snart looked to the side, pausing to think. "It's a compelling argument. But if I'm gonna help you out. I'll need something in return."

"Yeah, we imagined," Barry rolled his eyes.

Snart pulled a pen from his jacket and moved to the nearest table. He got a menu and wrote down something which he then slid to Barry. "This."

Barry took one look and saw an outrageous amount of money. He laughed and looked at Snart. "No. this is impossible. We can't do that."

"Then I can't help you," Snart turned to leave when Belén angrily reached for his arm, and because she was angry her hand holding his arm turned green and scaly. Before Snart could realize, Barry lunged in a snap and yanked her hand from Snart's arm and kept it tightly shielded under his hand. They could not let her identity slip as well.

"There has to... Snart, there has to be something you want that we can get," Barry tried to reason with the man who keenly watching the two.

"Let me think about it," Snart only mildly relented. Perhaps there was something else, he just had to consider it more closely. With a wide smile, he turned to leave.

Almost as quick, Barry took Belén away as well. He stopped them in another part of the neighborhood to check her. She was breathing fast as he released her hand to reveal it was still its pretty bright green color.

"Barry, I-I-I didn't...I didn't mean to…" she tried to explain but Barry shook his head at her.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," he tried to soothe her, knowing that only calming her down would make her hand return to normal. "Just breathe, okay? Do that, c'mon," he mimicked the breathing pattern they had worked on long ago for these sorts of situations.

Belén quickly tried doing that but she kept remembering her slip that nearly cost her identity secret. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, I could have...I could have jeopardize it a-all I'm so sorry-"

Barry pulled her into a tight hug, a bit shaken himself from her reaction. He'd forgotten, honestly, that she was still trying to get a better control of her new side. He also remembered he had promised to help her get control no matter what. "It's going to be okay," he whispered, rubbing a hand over Belén's back.

~ 0 ~

After getting back to STAR Labs, Caitlin took Belén into one of the side rooms to give her another checkover to see if she'd been negatively affected by her sudden outburst of powers. Meanwhile, Cisco and Barry remained in the main cortex where the former had taken apart Wells' wheelchair along with its futuristic device in hopes of putting something together for their metahuman transfer. As Cisco worked, he kept glancing over at Barry who was keenly staring at the side room Belén and Caitlin were in. He hadn't muttered a word to Cisco.

Here goes nothing. Cisco took in a deep breath and spoke up to the metahuman while trying to pull something apart. "She really likes you, dude, make no doubt about that." Barry said nothing except briefly glancing back at him before returning his eyes to the side room. "Barry, c'mon, are you really going to let things end because I asked her out before you?"

"Cisco, I'm not doing this now," Barry crossed his arms and turned a bit to the side.

"Well tough because I don't know when to quit," Cisco put down the device he was working on and sighed again, this time speaking much more seriously. "I asked her out like four months after your coma, okay? She wasn't sure at first but she said yes and I took her to dinner at-"

Barry shook his head and turned to Cisco, making a face that just showcased his disapproval of this. "Cisco, I don't want to hear about this...date thing." That was the problem: his mind would only show him possible bits of Belén and Cisco dating. It was what made it difficult for him to talk to either of them. It's what made it hard to move on from it.

"You have to," Cisco adamantly replied. "You have to know what happened in order to finally move on."

Barry looked to the side without another word considering what Cisco believed was pretty correct. He was dying to know what exactly - and he meant exactly - what happened during that apparent date. Maybe it would help his mind in some way...

"We went to the movies, saw a funny movie and then we took a walk," Cisco continued. "It was fun, I'm not going to lie, because Bells is just so much fun to be around. She was cute-" Barry looked back at him with a warning expression but Cisco shrugged in response. "Hey, I'm not lying here. Your girlfriend's hot, okay? That's why I asked her out. But in the end, when we tried to kiss...we couldn't." And it did make Barry a little less concerned when he saw for himself how Cisco honestly seemed okay with it. "Bells and I realized we were friends, like best friends, and we liked that. Yeah, she's hot, as is Caitlin, as is Iris, - she's my attractive best friend who happened to end up going out with my other best friend. And I'm so happy for you two. Honest."

Barry sighed, shaking his head. "Cisco, I...it's just...it would've been better to hear from you first…"

"I know, and that's my bad, I accept it," Cisco raised a gloved hand. "I should've been a good friend and told you about this when you asked Caitlin and I to help you ask Bells out."

Barry stared at him and slowly began to smile. "But you were. Belén said she asked you not to say anything...and you didn't. You promised her and you kept it."

"Look, dude, I have never tried anything with her since our date," Cisco meant to clarify once and for all. "She's Bells, my best friend, and only my friend."

Barry nodded to show he acknowledged Cisco's words, but he didn't feel like he was quite there to be okay. "Thank you."

"Of course," Cisco hoped his words would allow Barry to talk with Belén now.

A couple minutes later, Caitlin brought out a much more calm Belén into the room. Barry turned back expectantly. "She's fine," Caitlin began, placing a hand on Belén's shoulder, "It's actually very interesting how some points of that other side can affect Belén and others don't."

"Yeah, trust me, it's not that interesting from my perspective," Belén admitted.

At that moment, Joe walked into the room, a hasty entrance, with narrowed eyes on the two metahumans. "What the hell were you two thinking calling Leonard Snart for help!?"

Barry winced and slowly turned around. He'd called Joe to explain their idea and needless to say the man was not happy.

Joe came right up to them. "Do we not remember who Snart is!?" Caitlin and Cisco slowly inched away from them back to the table Cisco was working with the device on.

"Joe, it was my idea," Belén stepped forwards. "Barry just went along with it."

"Which puts both of you at fault," Joe sternly responded. "Why would you do something so stupid?"

"Because, Joe, we have already tried everyone else. Look, you tried the CCPD. I tried Oliver. I even tried Ronnie and Dr. Stein," Barry, frustrated explained their lack of options. "And the Particle Accelerator goes online in…"

"16 hours," Cisco called.

"16 hours, Joe. I'm not willing to let the metas die, and we can't let them escape, either. So, like it or not, Snart, with his cold gun, is the only one that can stop them if Cisco's transportation does not hold."

"Then lucky for you I figured out what it is you can get me," Snart surprised them with his presence. Despite Joe initially pulling out a gun on him, Snart took a nice calm strode through the room, taking an observation. "Hello, Detective. Nice to see you again. Caitlin, Cisco." He came up to Barry and Belén with a smirk. "I thought about your proposal. You want my help, this is what I want. My fingerprints, dental records, DNA, criminal records, family tree, everything there is in this world concerning Leonard Snart. I want it destroyed. All of it. At CCPD, online, everywhere."

Belén stood there dumbfounded at such an outrageous price.

"The brass on this dude," Joe muttered. "You really think we'd do that for you?"

"Absolutely not-" Belén was midway turning him down when Barry cut her off with his own decision.

'I'll do it. If it's the only way, fine."

Belén whipped her head at him with widened eyes. Joe was in the same predicament and immediately ordered Barry to talk with him in the training room.

"I can't believe you're asking for that much," Belén snapped at Snart after being left alone. Caitlin and Cisco still remained there, half pretending to work and half ready to attack.

Snart smirked her way. "Then you're not as bright as you're made out to be."

"You don't know anything about me," Belén stepped forwards.

"I know about your family."

"Lies."

"Really? I know about your wayward brother," Snart loved the stunned reactions he got from everyone in the room. "I mean, I know my sister isn't exactly innocent but at least I know where she is. Can't say the same for you and your sister, though."

"Listen to me," Belén got in Snart's face, leaving Caitlin and Cisco in a little panic state because of how Snart might react, "I know damn well what my sister does behind my back - and I know that she worked with you - so you can put away your mighty attitude with me. I know that my family's rotten."

Snart raised an eyebrow at her, somewhat impressed. "Quite the burden you must carry, then...being the only good one left. Maybe you should think about switching, huh?"

"I would never," Belén stepped back. "It's more fun putting criminals like you away."

"Well, if this is it, you can tell your boyfriend I'll be waiting by the Algiers tonight for all my files. This criminal's not going anywhere!" he turned around and headed out of the room.

Belén's eyes flickered to Caitlin and Cisco. "It's going to be my fault if that guy ever rules the city."

"Maybe you should talk to Barry about it," Caitlin suggested but Belén scoffed.

"Please, he won't talk to me unless it's business and this would just be me telling him not to do something."

"Okay, how do you intend for this cold shoulder argument to end if neither of you get over it and talk?" Cisco moved for the desk where he left some of his licorice.

"Because he doesn't want to talk, Cisco! It's been days and...nothing."

"Well I just talked to him and he seemed ready...ish..."

Belén deadpanned him for a moment. "It's not funny, Cisco. And you know what? Maybe it's...it's just not going to get better."

"Belén..." Caitlin mildly gaped at her friend. "You don't actually...mean that, do you?"

"I don't know," Belén admitted. She brought her hands to her hair and sucked in a breath. "I've got family problems like there's no tomorrow and-and maybe it'd be easier to deal with things if I didn't drag Barry with me."

"Okay, you know that's not true," Caitlin looked over to Cisco for some help. The man seemed to be thinking about something and that clearly involved not talking for the moment. "Belén, I think you're just tired-"

"-it's a possibility," Belén let her hands fall to her sides. "But I mean...what if I talk to him and he can't get over the date? What if - what if he doesn't want to be with me anymore? Things could be over."

"Nope!" Cisco's sudden pop startled the two women. "Absolutely not, I will not have crazy talk in this room."

"Cisco, what-" Belén was cut off by Cisco coming over and grabbing her arm. "Where are we going!?" she asked when he started leading her out of the cortex, even looking back at Caitlin for some help.

"Cisco, what are you doing?" Caitlin rushed after them. "Cisco!"

"I'm knocking some sense into her!"

"With what!?" Belén exclaimed with actual fear in her tone.

"The future!"

Caitlin's eyes widened when she realized where Cisco was heading for. He brought them to Thawne's secret vault, and despite Caitlin's warning for him to think about it, Cisco opened the vault and yanked Belén in.

"This is Wells' creepy lair - why am I here?" Belén pretended to shiver.

"This is why," Cisco walked up to the small podium. "Glad I figured out how to bring it up," he mumbled as he passed his hand over the podium, bringing up the futuristic article to life.

"Woah..." Belén blinked. She crinkled her nose, however, when she read the title of the article and saw the subject of it. "No, hold on...what is this?"

"It's what we found a while ago," Cisco looked at Caitlin, "We don't really know what it means but...I think you'll see something pretty interesting."

"Apart from the fact this thing says Barry will go missing...not exactly sure what else is supposed to be 'interesting'," Belén walked up to the article to read, or at least try to skim since the words were pretty small. "This is from 2024..."

"It's the future, as of now," Caitlin came to stand beside her.

"Get out," Belén blinked with awe. "But...but he goes missing?" her hand came to rest over her heart as the fear started creeping over her. "Barry goes missing in the future?"

"Check out who wrote the article," Cisco nodded her to look underneath the byline.

It only took her a couple seconds to see her own name written there - well, her new name. "Oh...oh my...that's me," she pointed at it as if the other two hadn't already seen it. "Like...like..."

A big, teasing smile spread across Cisco's face. "As in your future married name?"

"Shut up," Belén said automatically, though the visible red on her face made it hard for Cisco not to keep smiling. Even Caitlin was having trouble keeping her smile hidden. "Francisco Ramon you better shut up."

"Belén, I get that you're scared to talk to Barry but this-" Cisco gestured at the article, "-proves that everything works out for you two. It means your destiny is to marry him."

Belén's eyes gazed over her name again. Annah-Belén Allen. Her heart may have skipped a beat or two. "It's not destiny," she said quietly, her eyes flickering between Caitlin and Cisco. "Destiny isn't what makes that happen," she pointed at her name. "It's my decision - it's our decision - to get married. But that could change at any time. What matters is what I want right now and what I really want is to go get my boyfriend back."

She smiled at her two friends and turned on her heels. She had somewhere to go.

~0~

Barry didn't know if he was purposely lingering in his lab to wait out the employees in the precinct and get the files for Snart...or if he was doing it to avoid being shouted at by Joe again. It wasn't like he wanted to steal but it was the only option they had left if they wanted help to transfer the metahumans. It was literally their only option left.

"Barry!" he flinched after hearing Belén's sharp call. She came striding into the lab with an air of confidence. "Barry Allen we are going to talk and we are going to talk now!"

"Um...okay..." Barry rubbed the side of his neck, somewhat afraid of her right now. "Uh-"

"-yes, I went on a date with Cisco, and yes it did involve hand holding and shared popcorn and a nice romantic dinner but it involved no kissing and the most important thing is that it didn't continue," Belén was aware she was rambling but if he was a speedster then he would be able to keep up with her. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before but I thought it would just freak you out - which it did-" she gestured at their current situation, "-and I honestly thought it was irrelevant. Cisco is one of my best friends but you are the one I want to be with."

Barry considered speeding and make time stop just to think about everything she'd said. He stared at her silence, thinking about her words and...her. She seemed so determined and perhaps it was a misplaced determination because...

"I'm a jerk," he sighed.

Belén blinked. "What?" she'd been expecting a little more than just that.

"I'm a big jerk, and an idiot, and a lot of other things but I'll leave it at that," Barry sighed again. "In Iris' words: I am a drama queen. I overreacted about this whole...dating thing between you and Cisco. In my defense, it was kind of sprung out of nowhere and it-it is a very hard picture to get out of my head."

"Well see, I don't want you to just ignore it or bottle it in. I get that it's a weird thing - I'd probably be a little on the fence if you happened to date Caitlin before me. It's natural, but I don't want it to be the cause of our break up," Belén crossed her arms, that confidence of hers dwindling the more she thought about the potential outcomes of this talk. "I don't want us to break up, Barry. If you need time, I get that, but...I don't want it to be a permanent time."

"I don't need time," Barry said, easing some of her concerns. "I just need you right now." He felt a ping in his heart seeing her light up so quickly. "I'm sorry."

Belén's smile was so wide it could have cracked her face. She rushed up to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her senseless. He missed her a lot.

A couple minutes passed before they pulled apart.

"I'm not letting you go for another couple minutes," Belén warned about her arms still clinging to Barry's neck. "In case you get any other ideas for arguments."

"I won't," Barry playfully rolled his eyes. "I know I was an idiot."

"A little," Belén lightly shrugged. "But it was a valid emotion to feel."

"It just...got me thinking, you know? What if it things had worked out with you and Cisco? Then I would've come back from my coma to a world where Bells...wasn't my Bells."

Belén's face warmed up. "You didn't even like me back then, Barry. We were just friends."

Barry rested his forehead against hers. "I believe that I would have fallen for you no matter what. Then what would I have done?"

"Best not to think like that," Belén chuckled. "Because it didn't happen and it's not happening. Besides, according to a certain article you neglected to tell me about, we sort of end up married and all that jazz..."

Barry almost choked on his saliva. "Wh-what?" he met Belén's straight face. "Y-you know about that?"

"Cisco showed it to me earlier. You must have given me one hell of a proposal if I ended up not hyphenating."

"U-uum..." Barry swallowed hard, knowing well his face was warming up now. "I didn't tell you because I thought it would freak you out. Most people don't like their future planned out like that."

"Yeah, but, I see that article as something that can happen if we-" she pointed between them, "-want it to happen, not if it wants it. And I may not be in the marrying stage but it is something I'd consider in the future."

"Really?" Barry was honestly surprised she was taking it so easily.

"You wouldn't?"

"Y-yeah I would," he said quickly, stammering it that Belén laughed. "It's not - it's not funny."

"Kind of is," Belén pulled him closer to where her lips brushed over hers when she spoke. "It's okay. I'd marry a funny dork if it was you."

"What? That's just rude-"

Belén chuckled and kissed him again.

~ 0 ~

The following day, once everything had been settled, Lisa and Leonard Snart met the rest of the group at STAR Labs who had also been infomred of their arrangement.

"Please tell me this is a joke," Caitlin couldn't stop gaping as she had the two Snart siblings in front of her and Cisco.

"Oh," Lisa pretended to pout, "you were right, Lenny. She is very uptight."

Caitlin's eyes widened. "I am not uptight!" she glanced at the others expecting to be backed up. Cisco and Belén looked away while Barry apologetically smiled her way. With a heavy irritation, Catilin looked back at the smirking Lisa. "You can't call me uptight!"

"Okay, there's no need to argue," Belén stepped in before poor Caitlin lost it. "We don't like each other - that much we can all accept - we just need to get through this one day."

Caitlin sighed and looked over to Barry, frowning. "Why are you two wearing your masks?" she gestured to the two metahumans who wore their respective suits. "Snart already knows who you are."

"And I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," Snart glanced at Lisa. "That includes my sister."

"Jerk," Lisa sarcastically spat.

"Trainwreck," responded Snart. He met eyes with Joe who'd remained silent throughout the entire morning. Joe just didn't agree with any of this and still thought neither Snart should be there. "Don't look so surprised, Detective. I am a man of my word."

"Yeah, you better be. Or I'm gonna make sure you're on that damn plane, too," Joe warned and turned to leave. There was much to do before they left with the metahumans.

"Hey, Cisco…" Lisa went after Cisco.

Cisco turned around with narrowed eyes. "Oh, hey, Captain Cold's evil sister."

"Aww. You're not still mad at me, are you?" Lisa feigned an apologetic pout as she got closer to him. "I really did enjoy kissing you."

"Hold the phone - you kissed her!?" it was Belén who caught the conversation and shot Cisco a look from across the room.

"Under duress-" Cisco motioned her to calm down.

"'Duress' my a-"

"Bells if I didn't know any better I'd say you were jealous…" Barry sauntered up to her, distracting her from the continuing conversation between Cisco and Lisa. Still, Cisco led Lisa out of the cortex for safety reasons.

"Oh no, are we going to argue again?" Caitlin genuinely asked with concern.

"Don't worry, we made up," Belén said cheerfully. "I won't date any of his friends unless he makes new hot friends."

"I didn't say that!" Barry turned on her with a deep frown on his face.

"Shh!"

Caitlin smiled at the two. It was nice having them back to their regular selves; certainly more amusing.

~0~

When night settled over the city, everyone was set to go. Cisco had procured a moving truck that belonged to one of his uncles. He rigged its back to situate their six metahumans in the back who wouldn't have their powers for the duration of their trip. Getting to the warehouse was no problem as Barry made a clear pathway for them through the streets. It was the waiting part that would soon bring them trouble.

"Ferris Air? I thought this place got shut down," Snart remarked as he climbed off his motorcycle once they entered the solitary place where the ARGUS airplane was meant to be at any moment.

"It did. One of their test pilots disappeared," Barry distractedly responded as he stared out into the dark sky looking for the airplane.

Joe, Caitlin and Belén got out of their car and walked over to the two. "So what's the plan? I want to get this over with," Joe said.

"It should be here any minute," Barry promised. "Look, Joe, I know you don't agree with this…"

Joe shook his head. "Save it, Barr. I just want to get it done." He walked away.

As Caitlin followed in suit, Belén was left staring at Snart...who soon caught on and smirked.

"Something on your mind sweetheart?" he asked. Barry quickly looked at the two, confused.

Belén remained with a straight face. "Do you know where my sister is right now?"

"No I do not."

"And why would I believe you?"

"Because I don't particularly like your sister and would very much like to see you get your hands on her."

"I would never hurt my sister, Snart," Belén shook her head, but Snart just smirked.

"When your family goes rogue, you don't have much choices. Besides, she was willing to hurt you and your friends, why not pay her with the same coin?"

Belén stared at Snart without much words in mind. Snart knew he had won and turned for Barry. "Your A.R.G.U.S. friends aren't very prompt. Maybe that's why they've never been able to catch me."

Caitlin came to them once she caught sight of the airplane. "Look, there it is."

"Guys, guys!" Cisco ran out from the truck. "We have a problem. The damper's fluctuating. The rig's losing power. I don't know why."

Barry turned to him, panicking. "Wait, can you do something?"

"I'm trying!" Cisco frantically worked with his tablet.

An odd lightning crackled from the sky, but they knew better than that.

"Oh, God. Mardon," Joe recalled the terrible metahuman.

The airplane was struck by the lightning and crashed landed way across them. At the same time, the truck's backdoor flung open and the metahumans piled out ready for action.

"Trip's canceled!" Mardon cackled. "Take your last breath!"

Simmons shot red lasers towards the group, causing them to quickly disband towards hiding places. In the middle of her running, Belén crashed into Azul.

Gasping, Belén tried running in a different direction.

"Where are you going, Bells?" Azul shot a blast of ice towards her. Although it didn't directly hit her, the terror of the attack knocked her down. "We have a pending score to settle."

"Azalea!" Cisco shouted and made a move to go help her but he, Caitlin and Joe, were forced behind a car as they dealt with Mardon, Bivolo and Simmons.

"N-Noah!" Belén pushed the man off and tried punching him. Azul grasped her wrist and used it to twist her down to her back. Belén hissed with eyes screwed shut.

"I bet Rayan is gonna be real happy to see your ass dead," Azul smirked. "Too bad it'll be too easy."

Belén allowed her anger to take over again and with it her new side. Her skin became that emerald green, even her eyes seemed to shift towards a magenta color for a moment. "Or how about I bring you to him instead?" she surprised him with. Her nails gripped his wrist and pushed through his skin.

Her vines crept onto him, but unlike with Shawna, they grabbed him whole and threw him to the side.

"Let's settle the score, Azul. Once and for all!" she called and went after him.

Meanwhile, Barry was dealing with Nimbus who was trying to poison him with his noxious gas. He could see his friends and Belén needed help but everytime he tried getting back into the warehouse Nimbus threatened to kill him. He had to deal with Nimbus first, no options left.

Belén's started flinging pieces of vines as if they were shards, but Azul broke them with his icicles. He put his hands together and fired with an icy smoke that chilled the surroundings. Through the fog, Belén could see Simmons firing lasers at Barry who was attempting to get back in. She was also able to see Mardon strike him down with a rackling thunder.

"Boyfriend's going bye-bye," Azul laughed. "Just like you will."

Snart's words came back to Belén's mind. If they were so willing to hurt her, then what was stopping her from doing the same?

Belén charged forwards, clearing the chill with her own poison. She swung an angry fist at Azul, surprising him and knocking him down. Her vines crawled over her hands, forming sharp ends like daggers. She raised them up but before she brought them down, a streak of gold hit Azul and killed him.

Belén dropped her hands and whipped around to see Lisa holding her golden gun. In that moment, Belén realized what she'd been about to do and stepped away from the corpse. All the green faded from her skin, the magenta in her eyes disappearing too. Oh my God!

Snart himself shot Simmons with his cold gun, killing him instantly. "How about we call tonight a tie?" Snart addressed the remaining metahumans Mardon and Bivolo with his cold gun still aimed at them.

Bivolo aimed to whammy Snart when he felt a cold metal on the side of his head. Lisa had anticipated it and was threatening to cover him with gold just as Azul.

"I'd power down if you don't want me to melt your face."

"Let's all go our separate ways," Snart insisted and lowered his gun. "My name is Leonard Snart-"

"I know who you are," Mardon cut him off. Who didn't know if the famous Snart?

"Always pleased to meet a fan. Just remember who it was made sure you didn't get thrown on that plane bound for nowhere." Snart pointed out to the disastrous place and started in another direction.

"You're just letting us go?" Mardon couldn't buy it as he looked to the now-dead Simmons on the floor. "Why'd you shoot that guy?"

Snart shrugged."He owed me money."

Mardon frowned as Snart gave off an expectant look. "Mmm. What? You want a "thank you?"

"Who doesn't like a "thank you?""

"Thank you…?" Bivolo said slowly, still under the threat of Lisa's gun.

"You are so very welcome," Snart made it to where Barry had been left on the ground.

"You sabotaged the truck, didn't you?" Barry asked through a strained voice. He shifted on the ground, trying and failing to get up. "Why did you let them escape?"

"Because now they all owe me. And something tells me they'll be a lot more use to me as part of my rogues than rotting away in the North China sea."

"You gave us your word…"

Snart laughed and bent down beside him. "It's true, I did. But here's the thing. I'm a criminal and a liar, and I hurt people, and I rob them. What did you expect me to do? Not be what I am? I saw an opportunity to turn things to my advantage, and I did. Who you're really mad at is yourself. This is on you, Barry. Even your little girlfriend backed off at the last moment because she knew this could happen."

"Then why don't you just kill me?"

"Well, I guess you owe me one now, too. Good luck with... all of this." Snart straightened up and walked back towards his motorcycle. Before he did, he spotted Belén. He walked for her instead and met her glaring eyes. "Well, so much for not hurting people, huh?"

Belén frowned and made to go for him but at the last moment forced herself to stay still. These powers, with all its glory, were still uncontrollable at times. She needed to get a better handle on it.

~0~

After all had been done and, well, cleaned up, the group dejectedly returned to STAR Labs. Caitlin settled immediately into her medical expertise as she checked herself to make sure she was no longer under the effects of Bivolo's powers, then moved on to Belén and Barry. With Barry's quick healing powers, he was back in physical aptitude faster than she could finish the check up. Belén had less injuries but it would still take a while for her to get better again. So, despite being told to 'take it easy', when Caitlin finished with her, Belén got right up and went in search of her boyfriend who'd mysteriously gone missing after hearing they were all fine.

The Particle Accelerator was set to go off in just a couple of minutes so Belén knew Barry must be taking it far harder than anyone else right now.

"Hey," she playfully knocked on the side of the pipeline's threshold once she found him sitting down on the slightly raised floor.

"Bells, you're supposed to be resting," Barry got up to help her walk in. Despite not bearing severe injuries, she was still walking a bit slower.

"Barry, I'm fine - well, I'm going to be fine, you know," Belén said but let him lead her to where he'd been sitting at. "Caitlin says I just have some nasty bruises…"

"Painful ones," Barry noticed her wince when she put a hand over her back.

"It's fine," Belén insisted and turned her head at him. "I tried to kill someone so believe me, my physical injuries are the least of my worries."

Barry glanced at her, knowing this was probably going to haunt her for a while. "The powers took you over, it wasn't you out there."

"Except it was," Belén sighed. "I've been angry for a while. I'm angry that my brother has been spying on me, has been hurting me. I'm angry with Maritza about lying to me and hurting me too. I'm angry that my Dad got killed. I'm just angry, Barry, and I'm releasing it in ways that I didn't think I ever could. If Lisa hadn't shot Azul...I probably would have stabbed him."

Barry put his arm around her shoulders and brought her to his side. "We've been through a lot."

"Yeah..."

"Tonight was my fault, though. I've seen the way that Oliver does things, and he's not afraid to just do whatever it takes to get what he needs, and I thought that I could do that too. I thought I could just use Snart, but instead he used me."

"Well, to be fair, the whole idea was my idea…" Belén rubbed her arm.

"Yeah, but, Bells," Barry shifted to face her, "you didn't agree - you didn't want to agree to Snart's deal. You knew something like this could've happened because you...you were smart, you didn't fall for it. I did."

"I was being a scary-cat and you were being calculating," Belén offered an alternative way to see things. "I mean, yeah, okay, maybe you were trying to be a little too much like Oliver...which-" she leaned closer to him with a soft smile gracing her lips, "-I wouldn't like to see, honestly. The Arrow is the Arrow, and that's not the kind of hero I know you are. I'd rather you dealt with things the Flash way."

"Yeah, and how's that?" Barry tilted his head, a bit curious to know what she thought.

"Mm," Belén looked to the side as she came up with her answer. "You actually cared about whether or not those criminals lived or died. Oliver probably would've seen them as collateral damage. You don't do walks in the dark side, you shouldn't."

"Tell you what," Barry began a new proposal, "Next time I get a crazy idea to agree to a criminal's word...you snap me out of it by all means."

"Can I smack you?"

"Yes...if necessary."

"Okay, deal!"

Barry stared at the excited ombre-blonde a bit worried. "You, uh...you agreed a bit fast on that one…"

Belén chuckled. "Well, who doesn't jump on the opportunity to smack some sense into their boyfriend?" Barry wasn't exactly sure that was a good thing. Belén surprised him with a small kiss on the lips. "But if you don't do more dark-side experimenting, you can get one of these."

"That sounds absolutely fair," Barry instantly nodded his head. "And I promise you that we're going to continue that training."

"Okay," Belén nodded.

Suddenly, an alarm blared from the ceiling and soon they heard Cisco's voice calling them from the speakerphone.

"Guys... The Particle Accelerator is fully charged and online. Whatever Wells needs it for, it's ready."

Barry took Belén's hand and helped her up to her feet. "C'mon," he helped her walk out the room towards the cortex.

All the computers were raging with alarms as the Particle Accelerator prepared to activate yet again. No one knew what was meant to happen, but they knew one thing for sure was that Wells was returning. Taking precautions, Barry once again changed into his suit and stood ready by the computers.

"He wants you to go out there," Belén sighed once she caught sight of Wells walking in through the front gate like nothing.

"And I will," Barry said, not denying he needed this battle.

This was the part where Belén hated not being a speedster, because it meant she wouldn't be able to help him. "I don't want you to go out there alone," Belén knew she was speaking for everyone, especially Joe.

"I need to go. If I don't, he'll come in," Barry looked at the others and hoped they would see it the way he was. It was precaution, after all. He sped out of the room to go meet Wells.

"Hey, Wells isn't alone," Cisco said after noticing another figure in the screen.

"What?" Belén practically shoved Cisco to the side in order to look at the computers. He let it go on account of the situation (but her hand was actually pretty strong). "Oh absolutely not." The venom in her tone was uncharacteristic of her, even her stride for her own suit, but the moment the computer was available again, and Caitlin, Cisco and Joe saw who else was out there...they understood.

"Belén, hold on," Cisco came around the desk as fast as he could to stop her from leaving. "You can't go out there-"

"-pretty sure I just told Barry that and he had to go. Now it's my turn. Pixel is out there and I'll be damned if she lays a finger on Barry. Plus, she and I have another score to settle too."

"But Barry's not alone anymore," Caitlin pointed out. "Firestorm and the Arrow just showed up. Belén, it's okay to stay in here now."

Belén thought about it logically but despite knowing the numbers were in their favor, she couldn't just sit there and watch Pixel have her own fun against them. "Wells - or Thawne - brought her in because of me. He has no use for her except to taunt me."

"Then don't let him," Cisco put his hands on her shoulders.

Green crept across Belén's face and down her arms. "I can't, Cisco."

Her vines grabbed her suit from behind and together they disappeared. Cisco whirled around to Joe and Caitlin. "What do we do now!?"

"Hope neither of them gets killed," Joe despised that answer, and yet there was seriously nothing else they could do but that.

~ 0 ~

Pixel cackled while she actively dodged Oliver's arrows. "Bet you can't catch me!" her sing-song attitude irritated the hell out of the man. It appeared more like she was playing a game with them, and that's exactly what she was doing.

Well, the game was about to shift opponents.

Pixel was ducking as another arrow threatened to get her, and since her gaze was on Oliver she didn't notice the vines coming for her back. She yelped when the tendril squeezed her arms to her sides.

"I got her," Belén told Oliver and nodded for him to go help Barry. It seemed like Wells had thrown Firestorm quite far without his fire to protect him.

Pixel laughed, her shoulders shaking with her. "You got me? As if." She whipped her entire body around and pulled Belén with the vine. Her energy cut through the vines and gave her an opportunity to strike first.

Belén felt the connection of Pixel's hand with her chin and vowed the woman would get it now. She was done being Pixel's and Rayan's punching bag, their innocent doll. No more.

Belén retaliated with her poisonous smoke and while Pixel fought to keep her lungs clean, the ombre-blonde delivered a roundhouse kick that may or may not have earned her a cheer inside STAR Labs. "That felt good," she admitted to herself. She flinched, however, when she heard a loud clang and turned to see Wells' body landing against the fence, courtesy of Barry.

"That's the spirit! You can't stop me, Flash. And you never will," Wells smirked impossibly wide as he detached himself from the fence. Perhaps it was a game to him too.

Barry glared at him but said nothing in return. Instead, he took off for the side of building and got Wells to chase after him.

Pixel jumped to her feet and grabbed Belén in a choke-hold. "First, I'll kill you, and then I'll get Azul out and together we'll kill everyone in that building." She nodded at the building where the two speedster's lightning trails illuminated their eyes.

"Azul is dead!" Belén managed to say in-between gasps for air.

It was enough to cause distraction. "What!?" Pixel blinked.

Belén shoved her elbow into the woman's stomach, forcing Pixel to keel over in pain. Belén whirled around and didn't hesitate to throw another kick, this time getting Pixel right on the chin. "An eye for an eye!" she spat and thrust her vines forwards to tie the woman up.

Pixel growled and shrieked as vine after vine wrapped over her body. Belén worked fast to keep Pixel's powers from penetrating her vines, but her eyes were also flickering up to the building where the rest of the men were fighting. She flinched when Wells came crashing down onto a car but was relieved to see Oliver coming through with one specific arrow. A tranquilizer specifically made for a speedster.

Barry, Firestorm and Oliver soon gathered over the unconscious speedster, all wearing pretty proud smiles.

"Thanks, fellas," Barry said truthfully.

"No problem," Oliver nodded at him.

"Nice haircut. And I see we've abandoned our traditional green..." Barry mused now that he noticed Oliver's darker green suit.

"Green is such a good color though, isn't it?" Belén gestured to herself. "Any shade works."

Oliver smiled for a moment. He then looked over to Barry, back in his Oliver-seriousness way. "Look... I might need a favor from you."

"Wherever, whenever," Barry assured him. Oliver nodded once more then shot an arrow ahead to take him home.

"I'm guessing dear old Firestorm wants to see a Dr. Caitlin Snow?" Belén smirked at the fiery metahuman. "And one Clarissa?" her smirk, however, suddenly vanished as she started to convulse on the spot.

"Belén!?" Barry panicked and went for her only to feel a force pinning his feet to the ground.

Belén found it hard to breathe despite knowing there was nothing wrong with her. Her legs buckled and soon had her drop to her knees. "I-I can't - I can't move! I can't - ah!" her left shoulder lurched forwards.

Firestorm looked around and only spotted Pixel untangling herself from Belén's vines. Her entire body disappeared and re-formed across from them where a second figure was approaching. The entry gate was flung to the side without every being touched.

"It's over, Belén," Rayan came to a stop beside Pixel. "It's finally over for you."

Belén could hear her brother's voice but as much as she tried to get, take control of her body, she just couldn't. "Wh-wat's happening? Barry!?"

"Don't bother," Rayan balled his fists so that Belén, Barry and even Firestorm felt the true weight of his new ability. The metas shared screams of pain as they felt the insides of their bodies twisting.

Inside STAR Labs, there was a heavy panic of death.

"What is he doing!?" Joe turned to the two scientists in a hurry.

"I think...I think he's controlling their bodies," Caitlin did the best she could through a screen. She focused on Rayan's position and movements. "His telekinetic powers, in theory, can grant him the ability to control anything...including a human body."

"We gotta stop that before he kills them," Joe turned to go, his hand nearing the gun he carried.

"Pixel is going for Wells," Cisco's eyes widened. "Is it too late to call Oliver back? Maybe Nina?"

"I am going out there!" Joe took off and, panicked and afraid, Caitlin and Cisco ran after him.

"So sad," Pixel carelessly stepped around the three metas on the ground. "Azul may be dead but at least you'll be too." Her eyes twinkled at the sight of blood coming out from Belén's nose. "Maybe you can be first, Belén."

"Get the speedster and go," Rayan nodded towards Wells' unconscious body. There was a clear strain on his face from keeping three whole bodies down at the same time.

Pixel disappeared and reappeared by Thawne's side, and just as she was about to reach for his arm she heard the building's door open up. She looked over and smirked at the sight of the three non-metas. "Well, it's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid of you to come out and play."

"Get the hell away from them," Joe held his gun directly at her, but seeing Rayan maintaining control over the others made it difficult to pick one.

Pixel saw it and smirked again. "Who would you shoot, Detective? Can you shoot one of us?"

"To save my kid, the hell I will," Joe cocked his gun at her since she was beginning to come for them now. "Back the hell up."

"Or what?" she demanded. She waved a hand and shot some of her electrical energy, making Joe drop the gun to the side. "Oh, no more weapons. What happens now, Detective?"

"Pixel! Get Thawne!" Rayan yelled in frustration. Blood was forming under his nose too and, if Caitlin was seeing right, at the corner of his eyes too.

"No, I want them dead too!" Pixel prepared to fire at the trio but her body was suddenly tackled down from a figure who dropped from the air. The two rolled over until it was Maritza who hovered over.

"You?" Pixel blinked in surprise. "Where the hell have you been!?"

Maritza punched the woman across the face. "That's for hurting my sister!" she then struck again. "And that's for trying to hurt the others!"

Pixel was groggy but her anger got her to focus fast. Her electrical energy connected with Plasticine's chest, throwing the woman to the side. "I knew you were a traitor," Pixel got up and wiped some of the blood from her busted lip. "Just like little sister over there."

"Maritza, what the hell are you doing?" Rayan managed to ask despite his ongoing struggle.

"Rayan, you have to stop!" Plasticine looked up from the ground. "We got it wrong - we got it so wrong! Wells was the enemy, not the Flash. You need to stop this!"

"You're betraying me too," Rayan nodded. "Then you can die too."

Maritza's eyes widened, knowing what was coming for her, so she built a wall with her purple mass to cover herself from whatever Rayan was going to throw at her. It was sturdy enough to deflect part of the wired fence, but not enough to protect her from the chunk of the car Thawne had fallen over. Maritza crashed on her back, her head taking a mighty blow. She groaned and brought a hand to her forehead, turning her head just a bit. When she opened her eyes she saw Joe's gun lying next to her.

She could hear the collective cries from her sister and the other two metas. "We need to stop!" Maritza snatched the gun and aimed it at Rayan then Pixel. She moved it between them, much like Joe had earlier.

"Please, you're going to shoot your own brother?" Rayan scoffed.

Maritza's eyes flickered to the smirking Pixel who was preparing to fire again. "Nope," she suddenly changed targets and shot Pixel. The platinum blonde clearly hadn't been expecting it - much less that Maritza had actually done it - as the bullet plunged right through her chest.

"Oh my God!" Caitlin exclaimed as Pixel's body collapsed on the ground. Joe and Cisco kept her back, though, since the match wasn't quite over.

Maritza seemed unfazed, but angry as hell, as she moved the gun back on Rayan. "Next one goes through your foot, Rayan. Let them go now."

Rayan looked at Maritza for a full minute, and since the pressure was taking a toll he needed to let them go. He raised his hands to show the telekinetic force was lifted. Maritza looked down at the three metas and was relieved to see Belén sucking in a deep breath.

"Like I said, this isn't over!" Rayan's snap brought her back. "You and Belén betrayed me. You'll pay with your lives, Maritza. That'll be on you."

Maritza watched Rayan turn to leave. Her younger brother was tired, easily seen, but to escape he was quick. Telekinesis wielded pipes against them to keep them busy and allow him the clear escape he wanted.

"Are you okay?" Barry helped Belén up to her feet, both having the same blood over their lips and chins.

"No..." Belén wiped the blood from her face and looked over to Maritza with uncertainty. Would Maritza fight them too and get away?

Maritza watched them all gather against her, and since she still held Joe's gun she knew what they were thinking. Slowly, she lowered the gun to the ground and straightened up with her hands in the air. The rest of the group exchanged glances amongst them, but it was Barry who sped and cuffed Maritza with meta-dampeners.

Still, Belén walked - wobbled since she was still getting control again - over. Barry watched her with concern - this could not be easy at all. Belén stopped just behind Maritza, her gaze looking straight ahead and not at her sister. She just couldn't right now.

"You're under arrest, Maritza Palayta," Belén swallowed hard and turned away from her sister.

[bastardsunlight]

//LONG-ass headcanon sesh for D, Alucard (Hellsing) and Adrian (CV’s Alucard) all kinda rolled into one.

So, since I don’t have radiantDecay anymore, I’ve sort of pulled back from the verse where Adrian BECOMES D. There was a lot of movement and timeline adjustment that had to happen for that one, and while it is in some way still possible, I’m not terribly interested in upkeeping a unique interpretation for a character that’s never really going to come into play. If you’re writing with D, it’s thousands of years after he was Adrian. If you’re writing with Adrian, it’s pre-1999 pretty much.

So, I have some documents someplace that I had written regarding D’s origins. The novels heavily imply that he’s somehow enhanced—y’know the movies hint at him just being super powerful Mary Sue turbo ultra dhampir simply because he is the son of “Our Sacred Ancestor” whomst we all pretty much know is Dracula himself right? Certain novels even hint that Mina Harker is his mother, if they don’t just outright state it. It might be the clunky translation (they really should have been more carefully transliterated because WOW some of those sentences just… don’t), but thus far it’s not been made CRYSTAL PERFECT CLEAR. However, I’m more than willing to run with that idea.

Dracula is, by the time Mina et. Al. come up against him, quite old, nigh ancient. I think that the Dracula of the Bram Stoker novel is or, rather, was the historical Vlad III Dracula Tepes (the impaler), born in the 1420s, “died” in the 1470s, iirc. Supposedly, the sultan at the time… Mehmed Fatih, kept his head in a box for a while before pinning him up on the walls of Constantinople, which the Turks controlled at the time. Ugly period in history for Eastern Europe… With Wallachia and Transylvania, in particular, two kingdoms in Romania, times were triple trouble. They were sandwiched between the Ottoman Empire to the east, then west was Eastern Orthodox Christendom—further west was Roman Catholicism and if you think THOSE guys didn’t fight, ding dong ur wrong!

BUT this period of violence produced one of the most well-known and controversial heroes (sometimes called a war criminal) of all time. Also he had a great ‘stache. Now when I write Hellsing’s Alucard, I roll with this same lore, so D and that Alucard could absolutely exist in the same ‘verse. It’s kind of a “darkest timeline” deal, a world in which the Belmont clan never existed. Before that even, Lisa never made Dracula’s acquaintance so the guy’s motivations are a little different. In addition, he is NOT Mathias Cronqvist, a tactician during the first crusades in 1090 AD. In that case, he would have revamped (PUN) his whole personality and integrated himself into one of the other great houses of Wallachia/Transylvania and re-emerged four hundred years later as Vlad the Impaler. That could work fine—not like he hasn’t got time—and that would have been around the time he met, and lost, Lisa. Now whether THAT part of history looks the same is dubious, since Vlad’s exploits during the period of his reign/deposition/reign/deposition/beheading are pretty decently documented. In this case, I’m going to say the Belmonts’ existence is in a timeline where those conflicts also may have played out differently. As these are all fictional worlds, I guess this’s up to ME atm. Nice.

So this is part “how I write D” and part “how I’d be inclined to write Alucard (Hellsing) in interactions that take place BEFORE the manga—like WAY before”. Since Adrian would have been a major contributing factor to the Belmonts’ strength from Trevor onward (so in the games idk if folks know this, but Adrian is Trevor’s father, with Sonia Belmont being his mom), that would also have contributed, at least in part, to the ability of the Belmonts to stomp Dracula and his minions.

With D, there is no need to include Mathias and his ebony/crimson stone conundrum, which does tend to throw a small monkey wrench in the ol’ gears (but not big enough I can’t adapt, trust me). The difference, aside from lack of Belmonts, is the origin of vampires. Clearly, they’re a magical construct or a spell-woven form of sentient life in Castlevania. In Vampire Hunter D, it’s heavily implied (once again, not outright stated) that the Nobility, some of them anyway, are simply a mutation of humanity (Dark Gene vs Light Gene, Lina’s whole deal, among other passages here and there), who also happen to be allergic to garlic, crucifixes, running water, and basic-ass Bram Stoker weaknesses. They’ve even got labs full o’ Nobles tryin’a conquer the sun issue.

So to know D, we gotta know his dad first. At the beginning, Vlad III is born to (big surprise) Vlad II. He and his brother are sent to Edirne as part of the Ottoman Empire’s “tribute” of however many young  boys from noble houses, to be trained in the ways of Islam and Turkish mannerisms, etc. This is more for pacification of that region of Europe, which is still Eastern Orthodox, than it is for real “peace”. It’s “peace because you guys are a good buffer zone between us and the rest of Eastern Orthodox-dom”, anyway. Every _voivode_ of Wallachia has to swear allegiance to either the Ottoman Empire or to the Eastern Orthodox church. While most of that area is EO, it’s in their best interest to swear to the Ottoman Empire. They’re bigger and closer. Vlad’s dad has done some underhanded shit, but he’s also a member of the Order of the Dragon and has propelled it to new heights within the EO and that’s where Vlad gets his name: Dracula, which is Son of the Dragon. So Vlad II’s immediate family are known as the Draculesti, which is fucking cool—it’s like “children of the dragon” and that’s not even his like, NAME name—it’s a frickin’ nickname, or sobriquet, as is Tepes.

In the world of Vampire Hunter D, vampirism appears to be a genetic phenomenon—ironically, a mutation. No Noble is going to admit that, OBVIOUSLY. And while it’s true, they were probably born that way, they’re still a mutant human derivative. Rather than mutating due to radiation or whatevermstthefuck like the actual mutants in VHD, they’re just born that way. So what I’m rolling with is Vlad III was born with that particular mutation and, kind of like my OC Toby, who is also a genetic vampire, it takes a violent or unnatural death to trigger the actual symptoms, else you’re just a normal-ass person. In fact, in this interpretation, I’m going to say that maybe quite a few people are BORN with that mutation, but if they live to a ripe old age and die, it never triggers. Most likely, the body is too enfeebled to handle it, maybe it dies after menopause/andropause? Either way, the body has broken down too much and there’s no material to work with.

That might also go a long way to explain the animosity many old vampires have toward humanity. Sometimes it’s straight up contempt, of course, but every single time, it seems to be a removal. Carmilla is a good example. Most of the time, her backstory involves a vicious assault that might very well have killed her. Imagine dying that way and waking back up to find that you had to KEEP living in the world that did this to you, that death is FAR far off. I can understand being VERY PERTURBED, to put it mildly. By the same token, what about war? How many folks die in war? Thousands? Millions? Of all those, how many have the mutation? Probably quite a few. Some folks might not figure out what’s going on and stay where they are, buried for decades, before just wasting away without sustenance—Vampires DO require blood, after all, to keep doin’ their thing. Plenty more are probably just torched in the sun. Since they were KIA, it might be rough finding their bodies in the first place…

So Vlad is beheaded—now this part intersects VERY well with Hellsing’s Alucard in my portrayal—and Mehmed Fatih keeps his head close at hand for a bit, probably talking to it. What happens when it starts talking back? We know Dracula has some SERIOUSLY kickass abilities and putting himself back together would definitely be one of ‘em, in my humble opinion. Mehmed dies not long after he achieves “victory” over Vlad the Impaler and no one knows where Vlad’s remains are. Maybe they up and walked the fuck away, hm? Maybe it was HE who ensured Mehmed’s destruction. How poetic would THAT be? Spoiler alert ||very||.

Now imagine going through everything he did—the guy had a tumultuous life. He might be one of the few, lucky ones who figure out that sunlight is a no-go, hide himself away, eventually go back to haunt his castle in the mountains between Transylvania and Wallachia. Now fast forward to the 1800s, MODERN TIMES (heehee okay) and one very ambitious realtor who wants to sell a creepy old abbey to some weird foreigner. Seems legit. Anyway by now we can see that Dracula’s gotten kinda nutty? He has three scary “wives” but he doesn’t seem to care much for ‘em. They’re obviously vampires, too, though I cannot recall if they’re turned by him or if they’re LIKE him—anyone who’s read it recently, do feel free to refresh me.

He’s kinda senile and while he’s crafty, he’s outsmarted by a dandy, an ancient-ass doctor, a dude who cannot stop fainting, a man named Quincey (my husbando), and Jack Seward—nuff said. He has some kind of congress with Mina, though ofc it’s the Victorian age so the only penetration is that of his li’l toofers on her poor neck. Nom. I don’t think Dracula banged Mina Harker. I think that, in THIS world, a dhampir is a nigh-impossibility, because at this point (and their cool-ass vampire science might’ve changed this), vampires are The Undead™ and therefore cannot CREATE LIFE. Not even if they have a raging turboner (that’s a turbo boner, for those of u not in the know). So he bit Mina, but before he did that, Mina married Jonathan—like as soon as he got home. They were married and living together and doing the frickle frackle, presumably, before Drac shows up in London to mess up their day.

In this case and for the sake of sanity, to create a dhampir, the vampire must chew on a pregnant lady. The curse lifts from her when the master is killed, but his blood has already entered and changed the child; the process is much longer and more involved for an adult human, who has an immune system and much more ground to cover. If the smol bean was in embryo stage or even fetal, it had no defense and mom’s body provided it with everything, Dracula’s blood, included. The final set of letters in Dracula mentiones a young boy, Jonathan and Mina’s son, Quincey, named after their fallen friend. So little Quincey is a dhampir!

Now, a bitten vampire cannot, in this universe, turn anyone else. They can feed and create thralls, but they can’t make VAMPIRES. In Hellsing lore, if a vamp bites you and you’re a virgin, you become one—if not, you become a ghoul/zambolio thingamajigger. Integra narrates this for us pretty early on. But it’s not Alucard’s venom doing this. It’s the vicar of Cheddar Village, who is a manufactured vampire. He’s not a true vampire, not like Alucard. Now, Alucard DOES ask Seras if she’s a virgin ‘fore he kills and bites her, which makes sense… IF HE LOVED MINA.

Hear me out. So, he saw this strong-ass bitch and thought “goddamn I’m sick of my whiny, vicious wives UGH I need me a woman like that”. So he’s gunna turn her. It probably takes longer since he hasn’t been powered up by Hellsing and their dark science-magic shit, or whatever it was… OR as he chomps on ‘er, he realizes “well fuck me she’s preggo, so even if she changes, I can’t have her”. Pregnant blood has GOTTA taste different, all those hormones and shit, even early on. I think he did have some weird admiration-affection for her. His arrogance and greed, however, has taken him over, so perhaps he decides to change her slow, to make the fellas suffer. They’ve fucked with him so he’s gunna fuck with them, but I think it pains him a little to do so, because lbr Mina’s the woman of his dreams.

So when Quincey is born, he’s perfect, healthy, rosy-cheeked, and by god only Mina knows something’s amiss. Damned if she’s going to say shit to Jonathan, who’s liable to faint, the absolute fucking walnut. They live fairly well, having taken over the real-estate business from their wonderful, generous, dead benefactor. 

Much like Carmilla’s weirdo ghost, however, Dracula’s spirit absolutely lives on.

TL; DR D was born Quincey Harker. 

[yandere-dbh-imagines-blog]

Attention [RK900]

Yandere RK900 x Reader

For the Anon who requested a jealous yandere!RK900.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry for the long wait guys, hope you all enjoy!

[Jealousy: Hostility towards a rival or one believed to enjoy an advantage.]

The RK900, given the name ‘Cyrus’, was currently the most advanced model CyberLife had yet to create. He was built to be stronger, faster, more efficient, and highly intelligent. He was the top-of-the-line product. Superior in every way to that of his forerunner. Yet, if that were true, why did he feel so inferior compared to...him?

His grey eyes narrowed to that of a harsh glare as they bored into the back of the android who currently held your attention. The RK800, his predecessor -- Connor, was conversing back and forth with you, his partner.

This was something Cyrus was used to seeing. Though he brushed it off as a mere comradeship, he couldn’t help but feel slighted by your obvious favoritism towards Connor.

You looked to be delighted by Connor’s presence as Cyrus studied your body language. You were leaned in close to the android --- too close for Cyrus’ comfort ---, your arms held a light swing to them as they dangled your sides, and your smile shone brightly as you gave Connor a playful nudge to his shoulder.

Cyrus felt something inside of him finally snap. Having enough of your light ‘chat’ with the android detective, Cyrus stood up from his desk. With a soured expression, he gritted his teeth in annoyance as he approached the two of you. You both appeared to be lost in your discussion and it wasn’t until Cyrus cleared his throat that you acknowledged your partner’s presence.

As you turned to look towards him, Cyrus noticed the lovely smile that graced your dewy lips slip from your face and be replaced with a more serious expression.

Though irked by your response to his presence, he ignored it in favor of addressing the two of you. In a matter-of-fact tone, Cyrus stated, “Sorry to interrupt your talk, Detectives. My partner”, he gestured to you, “and I have been assigned a case which deserves our fullest attention.”

Picking up on his insinuation, you let out a small grunt of annoyance before reluctantly saying your goodbyes to Connor and walking back to your desk. Watching your retreating figure with a heated fixation, his stare hardened as he turned to face Connor. Icy grey eyes meeting innocent brown.

With a sharp bite to his words, Cyrus curtly asserted, “I’d ask that you do your best to refrain from distracting Detective [L/n] any further, Connor.”

Cyrus left shortly after to follow you, leaving behind a confused Connor. Stunned and befuddled by Cyrus’ coldness towards him, Connor’s eyebrows knotted together as he attempted to understand the reason for such a reaction. Did he do something wrong? Blinking in confusion, he made note of the odd behavior before continuing about his day with Hank.

For the rest of the workday, you and Cyrus went uninterrupted, much to Cyrus’ delight. You noticed the silence between you and your partner but decided against possibly pestering the android. You assumed him to be focusing on your assigned case and did the same.

However, for Cyrus that could not be further from the truth. His mind was elsewhere, not paying any attention at all to the case file in front of him. Instead, his thoughts were consumed by that of you.

Cyrus loathed every single ounce of attention you showed Connor, from the admiring glances, the smallest of touches, and the warm smiles that stretched your lips. Connor was undeserving of such care, Cyrus concluded.

Cyrus knew he would have to prove it to you - that he was the one who deserved your affections -, though it would be easier said than done.

[Time skip: 1 week later]

You had begun to notice a change in your partner’s behavior as of late. Throughout your time as his partner, you always knew him to be a more serious, quiet type. He was still so, yet something about him just felt off. You became well aware of his seemingly constant staring as well. You tried desperately to ignore it, but something in his eyes made the hair of your neck stand on end.

You also did not fail to notice the suffocating tension in the air when Cyrus would interject himself into whatever conversation you and Connor had been having. Nor did you miss the predatory gaze that engulfed Cyrus’ grey eyes. The cold, piercing stare was not directed at you, you realized, but towards Connor.

And to your utter annoyance, it didn’t end there. No matter where you went, Cyrus was almost always right at your side. And when he wasn’t, you could still feel his ever-watchful gaze on your back. However, you could learn to deal with that, no matter how much it bothered you.

But you came to your breaking point when you found Cyrus mercilessly restraining Connor against the wall. Connor was unable to successfully fight back against the more advanced RK prototype and was essentially immobilized by Cyrus’ tight grip around his throat. Blue blood trailed down from his nostril, clearly having sustained some damage from Cyrus’ actions.

You were quick to put an end to the incident before it went any further. Cyrus released Connor from his grasp as soon as you approached him, causing Connor to fall to the floor. Kneeling down to face him at eye-level, you noticed the red glow of his LED as he wiped the blue blood that slowly dripped from his nose.

“Are you alright, Connor?”, you asked as you placed a delicate hand onto his shoulder.

Connor’s gaze darted from Cyrus to the blood on his fingertips before he calmly responded, “Yes, Detective. I’m alright. There’s no need for your concern.”

Standing, you told Connor, “Well, okay then. I’d like to have a private talk with my partner. If you would Connor...”

Picking up on your hint, he stood to his feet - with your assistance - before leaving to find Hank.

Turning your gaze to Cyrus, through grit teeth you seethed, “Come on. You and I need to talk. Now.”

Walking briskly through the slow halls of the police station, you pulled Cyrus by the arm in a harsh manner. Finding the nearest empty room, you slammed the door shut and locked it once you were inside. Spinning around to face your partner, you spotted small droplets of blue blood - most likely that of Connor’s, you observed - on his cheek.

Your eyebrows creased together and your lips tightened as you snarled in anger, “Okay, what the hell was that about?!”

With a slight hesitance, your partner looked to you with a questioning gaze. “I’m sorry, detective. I don’t understand what it is you are asking.”, he replied blankly in that same monotonous voice as if he hadn’t just been pinning Connor to the fucking wall.

Shooting him a look of clear disbelief, you exclaimed, “Are you seriously going to feign innocence!? Really, Cyrus? Like I didn’t just witness you physically assault Connor?”  

Cyrus simply stared back at you, straight-faced and without so much of an ounce of remorse present in his eyes.

Shaking your head, you spoke, “I can’t believe this. Look, I don’t know what has gone on between you and Connor and why you seem to hate his freakin’ guts, but this has got to stop now. I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this. I mean, for fuck’s sake Cyrus, for the past week you’ve been acting like a jealous two-year-”

You paused abruptly, your eyes widening as you came to a startling realization. Giving Cyrus a look of pure astonishment, you asked incredulously, “Ar-are you....jealous? Of Connor!?”

Cyrus refused to answer such a question, deeming it undoubtedly absurd. He couldn’t possibly be jealous of Connor, could he? For what reason did he have for being jealous of the RK800? He was superior to him in every way imaginable. Yet, he did contemplate the possibility that he might be envious of Connor.  

And with that, Cyrus realized that all of these feelings he experienced came from one source and one source alone, you. A small, minuscule part of Cyrus held a hatred for you, only for making him feel such pathetic emotions like jealousy and incompetence.

Letting out a scoff and rolling your eyes, you remarked in a sarcastic tone, “Oh, the silent treatment. Real mature, Cyrus.”

“And if I am?”, Cyrus suggested in a deep voice that sounded throughout the small room. His question threw you for a loop, causing you to falter.

“Ex-excuse m-” You stammered out, only to be interrupted by Cyrus, who took a step closer to you.

“And if I am, as you claim, jealous of Connor?”, Cyrus repeated once again, advancing towards you until your back was pressed firmly against the wall. The corners of Cyrus’ lips turned upwards into a slight grin, one that disturbed you greatly. Sensing your nervousness, he quirked his head to the side before grasping your chin in his hand. Though you flinched, he tightened his grip on your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

With a smirk to his lips, he confessed, “I am. I am jealous of all the attention you give to him and all of the affection you show for him.”, you let out a small gasp as you felt Cyrus grip onto your waist, ”And I don’t understand why you prefer him over me. What does he have that I don’t? I’m everything he is -- could ever be and more.”

His eyes were heavy with lust and envy as he added darkly, “It’d be in your best interest, [Y/n] -- and Connor’s -- that you don’t further provoke my jealousy. And remember, you belong to me and only me.”

[the-angry-pixie]

(1) So. I had a thought about Theo. You know how in Passing the Time, at some point Theo thinks something like “maybe Will is supposed to cheat on me with Mike...?” or something? It got me thinking, there’s no way Theo didn’t imagine a threesome at least once (not seriously, but the thought must have crossed his mind). and THAT led me to this HC: one day (after Will and Mike have made up and the three of them are fairly chill, but pre-breakup), the three of them are hanging out.

(2) Theo and Will get into some sort of tussling war over something (Theo probably stole Will’s food or backpack or some shit and started holding it just out of his reach, teasing him until Will pounced), and Theo turns it into a tickle fight or a poke war or whatever. Will expects Mike to help, but at the last second Mike just yells “Treachery!” and gangs up against Will. Will swears revenge and pins Mike down, laughing, and suddenly Theo is just watching the two of them wrestle and…

(3) well his mind gets a little carried away, because with Will pinning Mike down, holding down his wrists, and Mike trying and failing to buck his way free, and both of them laughing but also kind of out of breath and clearly just realizing the position theyre in… well. It’s stupid, and he knows it, but for just a moment Theo wonders what it would be like to pull Will into bed then and there, and take Mike with them. (And hey, maybe for the purposes of this AU, he does ;) ;) )

———–

Oooo Anon. I love the way you think. You’re absolutely right. Theo may come off as worldly and unshakeable but truth is, he’s still young and still has sexual fantasies that he hasn’t tried and would LOVE to.

A threesome is definitely one of those forbidden fruit things that he would obsess over.

And yeah, its been established in this universe that he thinks Mike is attractive (despite Mike’s very obvious dislike for him). Sooo that wrestling scenario is totally one where his thoughts would run away with him.

I might not be able to give you an actual threesome scene. But I can definitely give you the conversation that would happen with Will and Theo after something like that.

Well, see below and mind the NSFW. ;)

————

“What time is your Mom home again?” Theo pushed his feet further underneath the warmth of Will’s legs where he sat at the other end of the couch, scribbling in his sketchpad.

“Late shift. Probably around 11.” Will murmured absently. His drawing headband on. His focus somewhere lost inside his fantastical mind. 

“And El?”

“Sleepover at Max’s.”

“And the Chief?”

At this Will looked up with a raised eyebrow. 

“At… work. Why?” The amused suspicion was heavy in his tone.

“Nothing!” Theo tried his best to look innocent. Though he was aware that he probably looked about as innocent as a fox in a chicken coop.

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing I swear. I was just wondering.” Theo buried himself further under the blanket around his shoulders until only his head was visible above the soft, flannel pattern. He fluttered his eyelashes at his boyfriend.

Will snorted and returned to his sketching. 

Theo could’ve left it. He really could’ve. But… the temptation was there. It had been presented to him so generously this afternoon. Heady and delicious. Like a cake sitting uneaten in a fridge. Or like a spot on your face that you know you shouldn’t pick at but you just can’t help it.

He waited a whole 20 seconds further. He counted them out in his head.

“So we’re all alone then…”

“Theo!” The sketchbook was slapped down into Will’s lap. He looked over in exasperation, patience obviously being drawn thin.  “Do you want to have sex? Is that it? We can have sex if you want. I just can’t stand all the–”

“Ok, ok I’m sorry with all the questioning. I’ll stop” Theo laughed. He was not laughing at Will. Just at the cute pouty expression he would sometimes get. He wondered if Mike had seen it? Whether he thought it was just as cute. Probably.

“It was nice having Mike over before.”

At this Theo witnessed that pout melt into a thoughtful smile.

“Yeah. It was.”

“I think he may even be starting to like me.”

“What do you mean?” Theo watched as Will fiddled with the pencil in his hand. Spinning it between his fingers. “Mike likes you just fine.”

“Really?” Theo raised his eyebrows as far as they would go, stroking his chin as though he was ponderously stroking a beard. “You sure that’s your final answer?”

Will bit his lip as he smiled. “Ok fine smartass” he reached out to pinch at Theo’s leg under the blanket. “But he’s definitely coming around to you. That’s just Mike. He doesn’t ever like anybody new.”

“Sure sweetie. Sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Theo ignored the question and the touchiness in Will’s tone. 

“Watching you guys wrestle was interesting” he continued casually.

“Interesting how?” Will had that suspicious expression again as he threw his sketchbook and pencil aside to pull his legs up to cross in front of him. Now facing Theo’s end of the couch.

Theo tried to look nonchalant as he pushed a hand back through his hair. He had to approach this delicately so as not to… well he had to be careful with Will.

“Oh you know. Two good-looking guys writhing around on the ground. Panting and heaving and grinding and all that. It was kind of hot.”

He could see the blush beginning to rise in Will’s cheeks.

“That’s not what we were– that isn’t what happened!” the indignation was clear as crystal in Will’s voice but Theo couldn’t help pushing just a bit more.

“Mike’s surprisingly energetic. Ever wondered what he’d be like in bed?”

He watched as Will’s eyes bugged and his mouth dropped open. As though he couldn’t believe what he’d just been asked.

“I– I don’t— No! I don’t think of him like that!”

“You sure?” Theo nudged at his boyfriend with his big toe, making the knee it was buried under bounce up and down. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself this afternoon…” 

“But– it was just wrestling. We do it all the time. Ever since he used to try to hog all the good crayons in kindergarten!”

Will’s eyes were large and to Theo’s surprise, seemed to be starting to look damp around the edges. By now he could tell that Will’s emotions were starting to bridge from defensive to upset and so he backed off. 

“Hey, hey! C’mere” he reached towards his boyfriend. Beckoning for him to come lie against him. Spreading his legs to accomadate. Pulling the smaller teens body back against his chest. Coaxing him into laying his head back against his broad shoulder and allowing him to wrap his arms around his middle. A kiss gently placed behind his ear.

“I was just teasing. That’s all mi amor.”

“Well I wish you wouldn’t. Not about Mike.” And something in that sentence struck a chord with Theo. Something that made the neurons in his brain fire and sizzle. Something that he would come back to muse on at a later time. But he didn’t really want to examine that right now. He had other thoughts he wasn’t quite finished with exploring for the moment.

“I’m sorry cariño” he murmured nuzzling his nose into Will’s soft hair. He couldn’t see his face. But he could feel his body beginning to relax back into him. “Can you blame me? You both looked so good. I got a little excited.”

“Stop!” Will giggled, a hand slapping at the arm around his waist.

“I can’t” Theo chuckled. “You got me all horny. You and that handsome best friend of yours” then he lowered his voice. As though sharing a secret for just the two of them. “Can you imagine it mi amor? Can you imagine taking him into our bed. Sharing him between us.”

“This is weird. He– he’s not like tha–”

“–He wouldn’t know what to do. You would have to guide him.” Theo talked over his questioning boyfriend. His voice was nothing but an intimate whisper now. Never taking his mouth very far away from Will’s ear.

Theo noted the dry swallow that scratched in Will’s throat. He moved one of his hands soothingly up and down his stomach. A shiver seemed to overtake his boyfriend’s body for a halting moment. And then… a shyly uncertain voice seemed to escape from between Will’s lips.

“G-guide him how?”

Theo smiled the smile of the triumphant. He squeezed the boy in front of him closer to his body and began kissing down his neck.

“Maybe he would let me kiss him. Kiss those beautiful, full lips. We’re the same height. It would be so easy. I wonder does he like to be kissed. I wonder does he make sounds when he is kissed.”

He heard Will suck in a deep breath, letting it out with a shudder.

“Would you like that mi corazón? Would you like to see me kissing your precious Mike? You know how good I am at kissing. He would be hard in his pants in no time. I wonder…” he punctured this sentence with a slow suck and a quick bite to Will’s pulse point. “I wonder has he ever had a mouth on his dick before.”

Theo could feel the heat building beneath the surface of Will’s neck. Could practically feel the blood buzzing underneath the skin.

“He has” Will’s breathy voice put forth. “Three times. He… he told me about a girl from the Science State Championships last year.”

“Three times. My, my” Theo purred, rubbing both his hands up and down his boyfriend’s torso. “Still, I bet that girl and those three times would have nothing on what you could do to him. We both know how good you are with your mouth.”

Theo heard a small whimper being bitten back.

“Close your eyes cariño” he paused until he was sure Will had done it. “Can you see it? Mike moaning into my mouth from the feeling of your lips around his cock. A hand for your hair and a hand for mine. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Who to pull closer.”

Another juddering whimper and Theo felt Will begin to grind back against him.  It felt bone-meltingly good. By now he was fully hard and very much ready to do something about it. He just had to take Will a little further.

“Maybe Mike likes to get fucked” he offered in an innocently questioning tone. “Maybe he likes the feeling of a nice thick cock in his ass” he punctuated his suggestion with a firm hand smoothed over the front of Will’s jeans. The warmth and hardness he felt there alerting him to just how excited his boyfriend was by now. “He would look so lovely. Knees bent. Ass in the air. Maybe he would like to swallow your cock as he’s fucked by mine. You would like that wouldn’t you. You would like to see me fucking him as he sucks you off. Right mi amor?”

“Oh f-fuck…”

The grinding was becoming more insistent now. Theo’s hand had made it inside Will’s jeans at some point. The panting sounds Will was making as he moved back and forth from pushing up into Theo’s hand and then grinding down against his dick… fuck, if he didn’t get some relief soon…

He could feel the sweat beading in the junction of Will’s neck as he delivered his finishing blow.

“Maybe Mike would let you ride him. We both know how much you like that. How good you are at it. I would… hnnngh I would give anything to see that. To kiss you and admire you as you take your best friend’s cock so well…”

“Enough.”

The voice was clear and determined as the hot body on top of Theo rolled over and he was met with fiery eyes. Pupils blown and hungry. Lips shiney-red and bitten. Theo was sure he looked much the same.

The kiss that followed was hard and animalistic and Theo couldn’t help but groan as he could now feel Will’s erection sliding desperately against his own - even through the clothes and blanket between them.

Will pulled back far enough for his green eyes to stare into Theo’s deep brown. 

“Fuck me” was all he said, his voice throaty.

It was all that needed to be said.

—-

So there you have it. Whoo! That kind of got away from me a bit. But I like it. An easy enough occurence for Will to brush off the next day (i mean, who wouldn’t get all hot and bothered from Theo’s stellar storytelling skills??), but also just enough to maybe provide some food for thought for the both of them. If you’re wondering where I would place this in the Starman timeline - I would say somewhere post-Castle Byers scene but pre-quarry scene. I hope you liked it. To the original Anon who sent me those amazing Theo HC’s in the first place… I especially hope you enjoyed it!

[artistic-writer]

Alii Dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon) - CS Werewolf AU - Ch 11

Title: Alii Dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon) by @artistic-writer   artwork by @cocohook38 & @artistic-writer

Rating: E (overall rating) for explicit sexual content, language and themes throughout. Trigger warnings will follow and be added as they are needed to avoid spoilers.

Art by @cocohook38 - Poster - Emma - David - Killian - James - Walsh - Graham

Chapter Art by @cocohook38 - Ch1 - Ch2 - Ch3 - Ch4 (NSFW)

Art by @artistic-writer - 1 - 2 - 3 -

Also on: AO3 - FF

A/N: Here is ch 11!  I know you all have waited for patiently for a resolution to how I left ch 10, so here is a whopper off a chapter to help explain things, and tie together a few loose ends.  This is a RedHunter (Ruby/Graham) backstory chapter set in the past, but you can’t skip it because we meet another character! lol  Also, HOW GOOD IS THE ART BY @cocohook38 ??!?! Seriously never been as attracted to Graham as I am right now lol Massive thanks to my wonderful betas, @hookedonapirate who is one of the best beta’s this fandom has to offer - I seriously love her guys, and she deserves all the good things <3 <3 and @kmomof4 to whom this fic is also gifted for her upcoming birthday, and creating the @cssns  Thank you to my crew, @hollyethecurious  @resident-of-storybrooke @courtorderedcake @doodlelolly0910 and special thanks to @killian-whump @killianmesmalls and @sherlockianwhovian for how they helped later on. And to @flipperbrainwho drew THIS piece of art for this fic in December, before it was even written!

Taglist: @cssns @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @initiala @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan@sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan  @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @wordsmith-storyweaver   @jennjenn615 @delightfully-difficult-pirate @doodlelolly0910 @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @thejollyroger-writer @rachie1940 @unworried-corsair 

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——————————————————————————————

Three years ago

Many people in the world would enjoy their free time with some socialization, or some other kind of fun. Werewolves were different, creatures that wanted nothing but the feel of soft, freshly churned earth beneath their paws and the smell of the night in their nostrils. Graham was no different. He had been the Misthaven beta for as long as he could fight, standing shoulder to shoulder with David and making sure the entire pack was safe.

Tonight, however, was a rare occasion when David had suggested he go and right what ailed him, as he was no good to him as a beta when he was so clearly distracted. Graham had become irritated recently, in need of something to help him relax, and David all but forced him to take a leave of absence to right the worries in his head. Graham wasn’t sure he could relax and stay away from his pack for so long, but he was also loyal to his alpha. If David insisted, he would go.

Graham wasn’t sure what he was in need of. He had reached a certain age, thirty-four in human years, and if he were a human, he could have said he was heading into a mid-life crisis. He craved what he couldn’t have, plagued by a yearning he couldn’t place and it was made all the more poignant when he was around David and Snow. He was coming up to a milestone in werewolf culture and he should have been so many things by now.

He had no reason to begrudge the Nolans for anything. They had taken him in when he was lost, raised him as their own when they really didn’t have to and gave him a place to call home. Misthaven was his home. It was where he belonged, with the strongest pack of them all, and yet, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else that could fulfill his aching heart.

Graham Humbert was lonely. He was a wolf with everything and yet had nothing that made him feel whole.

There were plenty of potential mates, and as the beta, he could have the pick of any she-wolf he desired, but apart from a little bit of harmless fun, Graham had no connection to anyone in his pack. He had tried reaching outside of the community, dipping his toes into the pool of loner she-wolves, but again, nothing struck him. No one knew him, no one gave him the life that included a love connection he so wished for, and he had all but given up on finding it.

Like many wolves, Graham ran to wind down, to release some of the pent-up tension acquired in human form, and at this particular time in his life, Graham ran to feel. Running was a high. His skin buzzed beneath his pelt as his muscles shifted over his bones with every stride, his huge paws pounding the compact forest floor, the only sound for miles his low, grumbling pants as his breath left his lungs. If he couldn’t feel love, he could at least still feel the freedom of cantering through the forest.

The forest seemed to disappear, only the wind against his face, pinning his ears to the flat broadness of his skull as he galloped. His fur snagged nearby bushes but went unnoticed to him at the speed he was hitting. Graham was a light coated wolf, the silver guard hairs of his outer layer more visible in the darkness than some of his other pack members, and his light, fair tanned face soft and welcoming. He was deceivingly meek looking, having inherited the faded agouti shades from his mother, and if it were not for his imposing size, he could have been mistaken for her at quick glance.

Wolves were discouraged from running alone, but Graham loved it. It was freeing to run alone, if not more so than with others, and there were often times he and Emma would tell David they were running together but went their separate ways. They were so similar, like true siblings, and they both understood the need for space, despite what they had been taught. They had been raised with the understanding that there was strength in numbers, that they were at their most vulnerable whilst alone, and it was always the last thing on Graham’s mind when he was running solo.

And maybe that was why, as he broke through the edge of the trees, and the ground turned to asphalt under his paws, he was blinded by the brightness of headlights and overcome with searing pain in his foreleg before his world faded from view and he passed out with a weak growl.

When Graham tried to open his eyes, they seemed to be stuck shut. His eyelids were heavier than usual, his breathing shallow and calm, even though he should have been more alert. He was in wolf form, he could tell that much, but as he struggled to find his surroundings, nose twitching at the end of his muzzle, all he could do was sigh.

His whole body was weighed down by an invisible force and despite the fact his brain was telling his limbs to move, they denied his request. He was laying on what felt like grass, or straw and he could smell the faintest whiff of other animals. The scents were aged, maybe months old, and all he could hear as his funnel like ears swiveled on his head, was the creak of wood.

He inhaled a little more deeply, and his senses picked up the tiniest traces of fresh paint and the lingering tang of a diesel engine. Together with the straw bed, he was sure he had ended up in some kind of shed or outhouse, but the last thing he remembered was being hit by the car and luckily for him, he had kept the good fortune to stay in wolf form. He recalled the sound of his foreleg snapping but there was no pain right now, his entire body floating.

The sound of rattling tools and the scrape of the wooden door in the dirt set his fur standing on end and his toes dug into the straw bed in anticipation. Before he had time to send out a warning growl, a floral scent filled his nostrils and the soft shuffling of shoes on the barn floor had him intrigued more than scared. Jasmine calmed him instantly, his breathing leveling out from his panicked state as he inhaled the sweet flowery smell, and he finally managed to peel an eye open to see a blurry figure approaching.

It was a woman, he could tell, and the way the sunlight flooded into the barn from behind her made her seem like an angel, the orange glow of the morning sun surrounding her like a halo. Graham could tell it was the start of the day because there was only a slight amount of warmth and the morning sunlight was busy evaporating the nightly mist that still lingered in the barn doorway.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman reach for something above his head and he followed her movements with a weary but blurry gaze. Something must have been making him so slow, the haze around her arm never clearing, no matter how many times he tried to blink away the fog, and for a second, he focused enough to see the saline bag hanging on the wooden post beside the stall from a bent, rusty nail.

He groaned, half in protest and half in submission. He was hurt, there was no denying he’d heard his leg break, but he felt no fear from the woman’s presence. She didn’t seem to be scared of him either, crouching down beside him after she had fiddled with his painkiller-filled drip and resting her elbows on her knees. Graham focused a little, the scent of her perfume wafting into his nostrils tenfold and he let out a long, sorrowful sigh.

“Hey there, boy,” she said softly, her voice nothing but calm.

Graham felt himself relax even more into the straw bed he was laying on but his flight instinct was still bubbling just under the surface of his skin. With the least amount of energy he had left, he let out a menacing growl he was unable to fight through instinct and the woman shuffled back from him. The distance was welcoming, but as Graham’s eyes fluttered closed one more time, he heard her voice as clear as day.

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow.”

Almost no time had passed before Graham heard the scrape of the door again and peeled his eyes open. They were more responsive this time and he managed to lift his head, watching the particles of dust dancing in the new morning sunlight as it flooded in behind the angelic woman. Graham was more focused now, his vision giving him a clear view of the woman who approached him with a cautious smile.

“Hey boy,” she soothed, keeping her distance whilst checking on the hanging bag. The plastic had completely drained and as she fiddled with replacing it, Graham followed the clear, plastic tube that lead directly into his foreleg. The soft, downy cream fluff on his leg had been shaved short, the regrowth beginning to itch underneath the bright blue vet wrap bandage that held the cannula against his limb. “You feeling better today?” The woman asked, the voice like music to his ears and grabbing his attention.

Every wolf instinct inside of him told him to run. Humans were not to be trusted, especially in the wolf form he was trapped in whilst his body recovered, and it took everything Graham had to stay still. He was fighting his response to flee, the fur on the back on his neck standing on end for no other reason than the woman in front of him was simply, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Her hair was long, a very dark brown and contrasted against her pale skin and rouged lips. She smelled of jasmine again and already Graham felt like he might be addicted to the scent of her. She gave him a smile, her perfectly shaped lips spreading across her features and Graham wished he could cradle her face between his hands and kiss her. The warmth behind her green eyes made him relax just so he was shocked to feel the pinch on his toes. He yelped, pulled his leg and awkwardly scurried back in his straw bedding stall as far as the cast on his foreleg would allow.

“I’m sorry, boy,” the woman pouted sympathetically, crouching down at the entrance to the stall to seem less imposing. “But look at it this way, you can still feel your toes, which is good,” she beamed, standing to her feet and brushing the dust off of her dark blue, skin tight pants.

Graham watched her with a scowl, his ears twitching on his head as she moved around outside of the stall. He was curious about her, but more than just as a werewolf play thing, and he felt himself leaning forward to watch her move around the barn. She collected up a saddle in her arms, the deceivingly thin limbs more than capable of carrying the heavy leather piece, and then grabbed for a bridle hanging above his stall.

“I’m going for a ride,” she told him as if he would reply with more than a puzzled canine glance. “You rest now. I’ll check back on you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow came and went. In fact, Graham counted no less than thirteen sunrises that introduced the arrival of his guardian angel. In the accident, Graham had broken his leg, shattered it in a few places, the dark haired angel had told him on one of the days, but he was on the mend. He was becoming stronger, having initially dropped a few pounds after being so high on pain medication, but with his recovery came his strength and it wasn’t long before he was eagerly awaiting the arrival of his raven haired caretaker on his feet with a wagging tail.

“Hey, my sweet boy,” the woman said eagerly, the barn door not even open before she had called out to him. Graham’s tail brushed against his hocks as she approached, his cannula and drip now removed but his cast still covering his foreleg. It had been wrapped in a dark blue bandage but that had become dirty and worn, especially where Graham had nibbled at the top part to try and relieve some of the itching underneath. “Are you ready?”

Graham gave her a wolfish grin, his ears flattening on top of his broad skull, and a puppy like whine too high pitched for an animal of his size escaping his maw. He licked his lips excitedly as she approached. Today was the day she had promised him for over a week - the cast was coming off and he would finally be able to lick at the agonizingly irritating niggling itch underneath.

She approached him still with a hint of caution, he was a wolf after all, but she had become more confident. He had let her remove his cannula without incident and when she had asked if he would be a good boy on the removal of his cast, he had just given her a soppy puppy dog stare and a sideways tilt of his head. If Graham didn’t know better, he would say she had domesticated him.

And he loved it.

“Are you going to behave?” She asked him again with a raised eyebrow, all too aware that in a crouching position with a cast saw in hand she may very well be trampled by a panicking wolf. Graham grumbled low in his throat and gave her the same head tilt, his ears flopping sideways. “Okay then,” she said on an inhaled breath, inching closer to him and powering on the handheld saw.

Graham flinched a little, unsure of the noise more than anything as it invaded his ear canal with a terrifyingly high pitched squeal, but he sat and let the dark haired woman lift his leg onto her knee as she cut into the cast. Graham knew a cast saw would never cut skin so he kept still, watching the concentration of her delightful face as she went to work, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth and her brow furrowed with effort. Graham was pretty sure, at that moment, his life had just become a whole lot more complicated as his heart skipped a beat and he flexed his claws against her knee as if attempting to hold onto her.

“There,” she announced triumphantly when the two sides of the cast fell away. “All done!” Graham leaped back, a playful growl coming from his lips as he sniffed at his leg and paraded back and forth around the barn. He had been largely confined to the stall, the straw now reeking of his dirty, oily wolf pelt, and it felt good to stretch all of his legs. There was a little pain at the site of the break, no more than an ache now, and Graham’s tail began another rhythmic wag in an arch over his back.

Forgetting himself for a second, Graham bolted for the door, stopping when she called out to him. “Woah, boy!” she called and he stopped dead, looking at her with wide, expectant eyes and a playful pant. He wanted to stay, he wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted in his life, but if he didn’t head back to Misthaven soon, David would surely send a search party after his beta. That would spell bad news for his new companion, and he wished her no harm, especially the fate that would befall a human who had, in their eyes, held a werewolf captive.

“I mean,” she corrected herself quickly, twisting her body in the dusty barn floor and sinking forward onto her knees. “You can go if you want to. You are not a prisoner here, you never were,” she smiled softly, looking down at her hands that were flattened over her thighs as she let out a short chuckle. “Look at me talking to a wolf,” she chastised herself with a shake of her head. “God, Ruby, you're so lonely.”

And there it was - the moment Graham learned her name and wished more than anything he could transform back into human form and tell her everything. She wasn’t lonely, she never would be and he would do anything to repay her for her kindness. If that meant spending the rest of his life with her, it was a burden he was willing to bear. But he couldn’t tell her. Werewolves who had sustained a traumatic event or injury were trapped in their wolf form until they had healed sufficiently to survive the shift back to human form, and Graham knew his body would heal much faster in his current form.

All he could do to reassure her was take the tentative steps towards her and sniff at her hands, like a pet dog comforting their master. He nudged her long, nimble fingers with his cold wet nose. Ruby looked up at him, a mixture of shock and fear on her face, the sound of her blood throbbing in her veins and the smell of her sudden panicked flush making him retract his actions. He stepped back, lowering his head in a type of submissive apology and getting lost in her sea green eyes.

“It’s okay,” Ruby whispered half to herself and half to the huge wolf in front of her, holding out her hand to him once more, her voice laced with a shaky anticipation he had not noticed from her before. She was scared, and rightly so, but Graham would never hurt her, and he met her outstretched hand with a sniff and a lick. Ruby gasped, her fingers trembling at the end of her arm and she swallowed audibly. “Good boy,” she breathed, her lips twitching into a smile.

Graham let her move her hand a little more until it was threaded in the deep pile around his neck, her fingers feeling like a welcome fire to his skin. It was incredible. Graham had never been petted before, a practice so frowned upon because of its connotations with domestic canines. Werewolves were not, and never would be, pets by the Chronicle's ruling, but Graham would gladly let her pet him all day long if she wanted to just to see the happiness in her eyes. His expression softened, his breathing slowing as she toyed with his pelt, her own amazement etched across her face and her breath caught in her throat.

“I’m touching a wolf,” she whispered to herself, her breathing resuming once more. Graham stepped away suddenly, shaking and ridding his skin of the tingling sensation. He had to go back to Misthaven, regardless of how much his heart was crying out for more of her touch. He skipped to the open barn doors once more, the faded, curled red paint falling from the wood as he neared it, and he stopped to give her one last glance as the sunlight warmed his face.

“Will I see you again?” She asked gently, a weak smile pulling at her lips. Graham sighed, the breath leaving his lungs and evaporating in the morning sunlight as he lingered near the doorway a tad longer, looking back and locking eyes with the woman he owed everything to. He would see her again, without a doubt, and when he took off through the open doors and headed back to Misthaven, he was sure he heard a soft sob echoing in the barn.

--

Graham had done some truly stupid things in his life, what short years there were of it, but maybe the most idiotic was what he was doing right now. He was standing in the waiting room of a veterinary clinic with a tiny bundle under his arms awaiting the sound of his name. It wasn’t ideal, he admitted that and he had absolutely no intention of ever owning a pet, let alone a puppy, but here he was.

And for what? Why would a werewolf want to own a pet? And a dog of all things? The answer was simple and over the last few months, he had fought with himself over and over in case he was wrong. His heart yearned, and in wolf form, he pined for the feel of her fingers through his fur once more. To hear her voice just one more time as she walked towards him with nothing but compassion in her eyes and a smile on her face.

But it was wrong. It was strictly forbidden. Graham had killed wolves for less, and yet here he was, standing in some nowhere town with an Irish Wolfhound puppy desperately trying to wiggle out of his grasp, all so that he could maybe catch a glimpse of his savior.

He had done some research. Her name was Ruby Lucas and she was a veterinarian two states over from Misthaven. She had a small holding with a few horses that she rode daily, and big unused barn where she rehabilitated wildlife in from time to time and no boyfriend or husband. She had no family to speak of, and her only friends seemed to be the animals she worked with and a few old classmates who still lived in their hometown.

Graham had obsessed over her for months after he had returned, never quite feeling as complete as he had that day she touched his muzzle, unafraid and with a smile that set her green eyes aglow. He would shift and run to her farm, watching her from the edges of the woodland adjacent, careful not to spook her horses with his scent. She was a goddess, the more he looked at her he got pulled in by her beauty, and on more than one occasion he chastised himself for his akin to stalking behaviour.

But there was no use. Ruby had beguiled him and soon Graham found himself sneaking from Misthaven more regularly in search of even the slightest glimpse of her. Some days she would go to the local bar and dance, unwinding after a long stressful day. She always went alone but the way she moved like nobody was watching made him want her even more, and he wished he had the courage to approach her as a man.

Other days she would simply sit at home, feet up on the battered arm of her couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap and tears streaming from her face as she watched yet another romantic comedy. Sometimes Graham felt like he was living one, the man in pursuit of the woman who didn't even see him, and yet, it was for the exact opposite reason Graham did devote so much of his time to Ruby. She had seen him, even as a wolf, she was not afraid and there was something connecting them that he knew she felt as strongly as he did.

Graham Humbert, werewolf and Misthaven beta, was in love with Ruby Lucas, a human.

“Mr. Humbert?” A voice shook him from his anxious daydream and his head snapped up to meet the green orbs of the raven haired vet. Ruby was every bit as beautiful as he had remembered from last time he had seen her, only at eye level she was much taller than he had first thought. She was almost the same height as him, her long legs disappearing into her very business-like skirt and her dainty, milky white ankles gently wrapped in the strap of some black, flat shoes.

“Would you like to come in?” She beamed, motioning through the door behind her and like an obedient hound, Graham trotted after her. “I’m Ruby,” she introduced herself casually, extending her hand out to him.

“Hi,” he smiled back, taking her hand awkwardly as the grey scruffy puppy in his arms struggled to be free once again. His tail beat a steady rhythm against Graham’s jacket, a dull thud echoing between them and his tongue flicked out in an attempt to lick at the new person in his proximity. Graham nearly touched her, but before he had a chance to take her hand in his, the puppy in his arms overstretched and almost slipped from his grasp. Graham grabbed him quickly, scooping him back into his arms and looking back to the giggling vet with a blush.

“And who is this?” Ruby cooed, reaching for the puppy and relieving Graham of his charge.

“Hunter,” Graham said quickly, his Irish lilt rolling the word on his tongue. He shuffled awkwardly on his feet, crossing and then uncrossing his arms nervously.

“And you are?” Ruby prompted with a smirk, placing Hunter down on top of the rubber matted table between them and ruffling her fingers through his wiry hair. Graham looked up at her, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a shy smirk.

“I’m Graham,” he said softly, finally settling on putting his hands into the pocket of his jeans and inhaling hard through his smile. Her scent invaded him, coating his tongue and hitting the back of his throat like a fresh flower. She still smelled of jasmine, the familiar scent making him feel the warmth in the pit of his stomach that he had craved.

“Well, Graham,” Ruby accented his name, testing it on her tongue with a small, twitchy smile that she tried to hide. “What can we do for Hunter today?”

She looked up once more, her hair tumbling over her shoulders with a flick of her head and her full, rouged lips spreading into a smile. Graham blushed instantly, a new human reaction for him, and he balled his fists in his jeans as he tensed. There was nothing wrong with the puppy, he knew that, and when she raised her eyebrow at his lack of an answer, somehow he knew she knew that too.

“Maybe he needs his shots?” Ruby suggested and Graham nodded shyly.

“Yeah, I think that’s it,” Graham nodded, pulling his hands from his jeans and stepping closer to the table again. As he did, Hunter spun on his little fluffy back legs and tumbled towards his owner, licking furiously at the air in front of his muzzle submissively.

“You think?” Ruby teased, stopping the puppy from launching himself from the table top at the same time Graham reached for the wolfhound youngling, their hands brushing and sending a wave of warmth through his body. After a heartbeat, Graham cleared his throat and swallowed a dry lump that had formed there. “How long have you been a dog owner?”

Graham blew out an exaggerated breath, trying to act as human as possible. “A few days,” he said honestly with a shrug.

Ruby quirked her eyebrow again, the perfectly shaped, almost black line of hair dancing up on her forehead. “I can tell,” she said with a smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Graham asked playfully, his eyes narrowing as he relaxed a little. It was clear she was more comfortable than he was right now, but as she looked up to meet his gaze again, she lost her smile and a blush stained her ashen cheeks with a pink tint.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend,” she offered professionally and then promptly spun around until she was facing the small computer screen behind her. She idly clicked at the buttons on the mouse, but there was no reason for the number of clicks she was administering and Graham suspected she was just trying to avoid him.

“It’s okay,” Graham murmured, the only other sound between them being the dull scratching of Hunter’s razor sharp puppy claws on the rubber lined table. She turned, looking over her shoulder first before her entire body followed and she was facing him once more, albeit a little redder in the cheeks than before. Graham could smell her nervousness.

“It was unprofessional,” Ruby quipped curtly, her flattened palms on the table between them another distraction for the puppy who tried to claw his way towards her.

“It’s okay, really,” Graham assured her, struggling to comprehend how something so small could elude his grip so efficiently when Hunter slipped from his fingers and jumped up to lick Ruby’s face. “I didn’t mean…”

“Hey there, boy,” Ruby soothed the puppy, her smile returning the instant she sank her fingers into his rough coat and pulled him to her. She inhaled his scent, the musk of puppy breath and slightly coarse fur making her eyes flutter closed and her face to light up with what Graham could tell was the memory of his wolf form. Her words were the same, the dulcet tones identical to when she had greeted him, and Hunter relaxed into her embrace as if he had just lost all of his energy reserves.

Graham remembered the effect of her smooth voice on his canine form, so wasn’t surprised when Hunter surrendered to her siren’s call in the same way.

“I think he likes you,” Graham smiled at her, pointing to the yawning puppy.

Ruby ruffled the hair between Hunter’s ears and poked at his nose playfully. “That’s because I haven’t stuck him yet,” she cooed into the puppy’s face and Graham stifled a laugh. She was adorable.

“I’m sure he won’t even feel it,” Graham smirked, watching her stroke the puppy in her arms with a pang of jealousy. He hadn’t felt the sting of a needle when Ruby had looked after him, but what he wouldn’t give to feel her fingers on his body again. “And don’t worry about what you said, it wasn’t unprofessional at all.”

Ruby looked up at him and her smile faded a little, only matching his again when she really looked into his eyes. They were deeper than they looked, blue pools of ocean deep echoes that pulled her into a swarm of emotions she never wanted to escape. She felt like she had seen them before, but couldn’t quite place the easy feeling that accompanied his stare.

“If you want to hear something unprofessional, I could ask you out on a date,” Graham teased, sucking in a breath through his teeth and cocking his head to one side dramatically. It made Ruby laugh, her hair falling over her face when she dipped her head forward.

“You could,” Ruby nodded, unable to hide the wide grin on her face.

“Would you say yes?” Graham arched a brow, squinting through one open eye as if he

were scared of her rejection.

“Maybe,” Ruby taunted, biting the tip of her tongue.

Graham sighed an exaggerated grunt of frustration and shuffled his feet from side to side. He planted his hand on his hips and dramatically rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “Well, now I’m afraid to ask you.”

“Will Hunter be there?” Ruby asked quickly and Graham frowned.

“On a date?” he laughed.

“Why not?” Ruby asked incredulously. “I thought he was your wingman.”

“What gave you that idea?” Graham chuckled, licking his lips nervously.

“Well,” Ruby began, handing him back the now sleeping puppy and letting her fingers linger on his a little longer than necessary. “You are a new dog owner but have yet to ask a single question, so I can only assume he is not actually yours, in which case you stole a puppy…”

“I would never,” Graham laughed harder, pulling Hunter to his chest and tucking him inside of his jacket possessively.

“Or,” she continued, pointing a finger at him playfully. “You have owned dogs before, and have another reason for walking into my office today.” She folded her arms over her chest and took a long, triumphant breath, leaving the ball in his court with a raised eyebrow.

“You got me,” Graham admitted. “I did come here to ask you a very important question.”

“Go on,” Ruby prompted, hiding her excitement that Graham could smell all over her. He had smelled it before when she had first touched him, the exhilaration thrumming from her skin both then and now.

“Have you ever been to Tony’s?” Graham grinned.

--

Two and a half years Later

Since their first date, Graham had taken Ruby to dinner at Tony’s Italian restaurant every Friday without fail. Even when Misthaven demanded his attention, he was able to sneak away and travel over two states to where Ruby lived with little fuss, and if David ever suspected anything, he had never mentioned it. Graham almost gave his relationship away once, whilst talking to Mary Margaret, but luckily for him, she wasn’t in a very inquisitive mood that day and was satisfied with a simple, evasive answer.

It was easy for Graham to spend time away from Misthaven because David always had an errand for him to run. Luckily for him, the James’ Neverland pack was situated close to where Ruby lived, so he was always nearby for reconnaissance. As long as he relayed the information that David had asked for back to him, he was in the clear. After six months it had become clear that his feelings for Ruby were never going to wane, in fact, they had only grown stronger.

He ached when they were apart, as did she. Ruby had told him on many occasions she couldn’t stand it when he was gone, and Graham had died a little inside each time he told her he was away for work. To make it a little more bearable, Graham had suggested Hunter live with her so she could snuggle with the growing hound each time she was lonely, a suggestion she accepted gladly. He wasn’t exactly lying, but he felt dishonest all the same, his heart cracking a little each time he told her and she accepted his reason with a smile and without argument. She was kind and good and Graham often laid awake at night trying to find a solution to his heartache.

Being caught between his love for Ruby and his loyalty to Misthaven was tearing him apart.

The restaurant was as it usually was every Friday night - half packed with the same patrons he had come to recognise week after week and who he now realised posed no threat. He could sense both human and Were diners, their scents mingling together on his tongue, but the entire time Graham had been coming here, no one had ever mentioned anything about werewolves. Tony’s was known for its acceptance of all, including Were, and he was just another fan of pasta along with every other beast in the place.

As if on cue, Tony greeted them at the door and shooed away the teenage usher with a scowl, stating they were important guests. Ruby met his enthusiastic kiss with a peck to his stubbled, jowly cheek and Graham shook his hand with a broad smile.

“Mr. Jones has beat you here this week,” he declared happily, his Italian accent almost forced for comedy effect. He nodded over to their usual table, and Ruby and Graham followed his gaze and the point of his hairy knuckled finger.

The man he was pointing to was a regular patron of the restaurant and an old friend of Ruby’s that she had introduced to Graham early on in their relationship. As if he sensed he was being talked about, the man looked over at them and gave them a smile, the blue of his eyes glinting in the light above the table as he waved them over.

Graham had found out early on that the man was Were, and he assumed he had known he was too, but neither of them had spoken about it at great length. One time, when Ruby excused herself to the bathroom, Graham had asked Jones how a Werewolf had become such good friends with a human woman and he was told they were just old friends. Sensing his pang of jealousy, Jones had assured Graham there was nothing more to him and Ruby than that and he simply loved her like a sister.

Graham hadn’t missed the warning growl in his words that was more protective than possessive either.

“Liam!” Ruby squealed, rushing to her friend and embracing him in a tight hug just as he had got to his feet. Graham caught up just as they were moving apart and shook Liam’s hand eagerly.

“Hey, how was England?” Graham enquired, business like.

“Oh, you know,” Liam shrugged, letting out a breath. “Raining.”

Graham laughed, slapping a flat palm to Liam’s shoulder. “Could be worse,” he teased. “You could be Irish.”

“Graham says it always rains more in Ireland,” Ruby interjected their exchange sweetly, shrugging the coat off of her shoulders and thanking Tony as he whisked it away with a wink.

“It does,” Liam agreed and motioned for them to sit in the booth opposite him. “And despite my name and heritage, I have no inclination to visit any time soon.” Liam gave Graham a cheeky glare and reached for a glass of sparkling water in front of him, the bubbles drifting to the surface when he moved the glass.

“Remind me never to visit either of your countries,” Ruby scoffed, her nose wrinkling a little as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be like that,” Graham teased, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her to him. “You’d love it.”

“Yeah, you’d fit right in, Red,” Liam smirked, stifling a laugh and hiding behind his menu.

“Shut up, Jones. Shut up right now,” Ruby warned and Graham looked between them confused.

“What am I missing?” Graham asked, his own smirk matching Liam’s as Ruby buried her face in her hands.

“Don’t you have to go away again soon?” Ruby asked quickly, trying to change the subject. “Another business trip we could talk about, maybe? Please?”

“Yes, I do but that is not what we want to talk about,” Liam winked at her, turning to face Graham. “The gorgeous brunette you see beside you was not always so raven haired,” Liam chuckled. Graham watched as Ruby’s cheeks turned a shade of pink he had never seen before. “Ruby here, got her name when she was born and her parents instantly loved her red hair.”

Ruby groaned at Liam’s tale of her childhood hair colour and she cringed as she lifted her head to find Graham looking at her in awe. “What?” She asked defensively but he was stunned to silence, simply shaking his head with a slack jaw as he tried to imagine the most gorgeous woman he had ever met as a redhead.

“I have photos,” Liam said through his laugh and Ruby glared at him with a clenched jaw.

“Burn them,” she commanded darkly, pointing at him with a threatening finger. “Tonight.”

“Woah, let’s not be too hasty,” Graham interrupted their stare down and excitedly turned his entire body until he was facing Ruby, his eyes darkening with the lust he could never control around her. She met his gaze and smiled, their eyes having a brief conversation without their lips even saying a word. “Could you have a little Irish in you?” He raised a brow, his voice gruff and his eyes flicking over her lips.

“Maybe if you play your cards right,” Ruby smiled coyly, biting her bottom lip. Unable to resist her any longer, Graham lunged forward and captured her lips in a fiery kiss that told her just how much he wanted what she was insinuating.

“I’m right here, guys,” Liam huffed drolly, not looking up from the menu. They pulled apart quickly and gave him sheepish looks. “Why do you guys even invite me if all you do is make out?” he sighed.

“You’re our friend?” Ruby offered.

“We pay?” Graham suggested immediately afterward.

“Excellent!” Liam declared and motioned Tony back to their table to order. The overweight owner arrived with his dog-eared notepad and half-chewed pencil poised. “The house special,” he beamed. It was the most expensive item on the menu and Tony scribbled it down quickly with a wide eyed smile.

Eventually, when Graham had asked enough questions about the colour of Ruby’s childhood hair, they had talked a little more about Liam’s work trip. He traveled a lot, mainly between his home country and America, and part of the reason why they met up at Tony’s was that Ruby felt like she never saw him anymore. They had been friends their whole life, their families living right next door to each other, and as an only child, Ruby had always been thankful for his friendship.

Graham had come to accept that his love was best friends with a man, even if he did get jealous. With both of them being Were, the feelings ran more rampant and sometimes Graham suspected that Liam knew and played up his harmless flirting to annoy him. But when Ruby assured him Liam was only trying to test him, to make sure he was good enough for her, he let it all slide. No one had ever managed to calm him like Ruby did, and all she had to do was smile at him for him to know she would always be his and all his jealousy would evaporate instantly.

“Move in with me,” Ruby said casually as they strolled down the dirt track up to her farm. She had asked before and Graham was running out of excuses. He clenched her hand tighter at his side and watched his feet as he walked.

“We’ve been through this,” he said softly, no anger in his words. Graham was so placated around her that it would be hard for anyone to believe he was the werewolf feared by so many.

“I know,” Ruby cut him off and squeezed his hand back. “But if you could. Would you?”

Graham stopped their walking, halfway to the house, the sound of crickets in the nearby grass pricking in his ears as he pulled her to him. He let her fall against his chest and brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead, wrapping his arms around her lovingly. “You know I would,” he said with an apologetic tone. “If things…”

“If things were different, I know,” Ruby finished for him, looking down at her hand that lay flat over his heart. A silence fell between them, like many times before, and Graham wished with everything he had that he could change who he was so that they could live as humanly as possible. “What if they already are?” Her voice was small, almost shaky, and she fisted the material of his shirt nervously.

“If they already are?” Graham cocked his head to the side and looked down at her quizzically. When she didn't look up at him, Graham hooked a crooked finger under her chin and tilted her head back until he could see the beauty in her eyes again. He smiled at her, but when she didn’t return it, he started to panic. “What do you mean, if they already are?”

“Things are different,” Ruby told him nervously, her bottom lip worried by her teeth. Graham searched her face, staring deep into her eyes for any indication of what she meant and it didn’t register what she was trying to tell him until she took his hand and placed it over her flat stomach.

Graham was hit with an emotion he had never experienced before. He was scared. Petrified. His first wave of joy was quickly overtaken by the harsh reality of what happens when a human becomes pregnant with a werewolf child. His relationship with Ruby was forbidden and so far he had managed to keep it a secret, but this was so much more than he could ever contain.

What would happen to Ruby when the child came up to its wolf day? Graham had heard of so many horror stories with mongrel cubs tearing their human parents apart in anger, murdering them in cold blood when they failed to understand the change. The Chronicle was clear and Graham knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be discovered and brought before the Werewolf Council. People talked, but werewolves were gossips, and Ruby was in danger of death if anyone found out about her. He couldn’t let that happen to the woman he loved, even if it meant he had to give up the thing he had wanted with her most of all.

“Ruby, I…” He stammered, fingers flexing over her even stomach as he fought to ignore the swell of pride in his chest.

“Of course, we’ll have to move away, so the council doesn’t find us,” she shrugged and his head snapped up to meet hers, wide eyed and shocked.

“The council?” he asked innocently, a blush spreading over the tips of his ears.

“The werewolf council,” Ruby told him matter of factly.

“How do you know about the council?” he spluttered, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Come on,” Ruby smiled, rolling her eyes and reaching up to run her fingers through the lightly curled hair on top of his head. Graham’s confusion ebbed away at her touch, and his eyes rolled closed. “My good boy,” she soothed gently, as if he were in wolf form.

“I don’t understand,” Graham whispered, her fingers like magic on his scalp, fading away as she slid her hands to his cheeks. He peeled his eyes open once again, and she was looking up at him knowingly.

“Humbert, don’t be a fool,” she teased, lightly scratching the stubble on his cheeks. “I grew up with Liam, who I am sure you know by now is Were, so you can stop pretending you are any more human than he is.”

Graham didn’t know what to say and simply stared at her. She was sassy, it was one of the things he loved about her, but she was also passionate and playful and he loved her even more for those things than he could ever show. “How long have you known?” Graham asked softly, a weight lifting from his shoulders.

Ruby made a face, looking up to the sky in mock thought. “Remember that time I hit you with my truck?”

Graham laughed weakly and clutched her hands harder to his face, turning to place a kiss to her palm. “You did not know then,” he accused.

“Okay, not then,” Ruby conceded, enjoying the prickle of warmth that travelled from his lips and covered her entire body. “But I suspected I had hit a Werewolf because of how big you were. I might be just a small town vet, but even I know wolves don’t get that big.”

“So when then?” Graham prodded, his hands sliding to her forearms and his thumb brushing over the skin of her wrist.

“The day you brought Hunter in.” She laughed at the memory briefly, loving how awkwardly nervous he had been in her presence. “I just knew I had met you before. I could see it in your eyes.”

Graham smiled at her sadly. “And you’ve known all this time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Without warning Ruby slapped him on the back of the head lightly, glaring at him. “Did you want the entire Werewolf council coming down on your ass?” She chastised, and when he didn’t answer, she continued. “No, neither did I. If it meant I only saw you a few times a week, I was willing to take that over never seeing you again.”

“Oh, Ruby,” Graham sighed sympathetically, pulling her into his strong arms and holding her tight. “I’m so sorry.”

“So you should be!” Ruby’s voice was muffled by his shirt and he loosened his grip on her so she could pull away from him. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and he brushed a stray strand back behind her ear, giving her an amused look. “You knocked me up, Humbert. Now, what are we going to do?”

Graham could tell she was trying to make light of the situation, and it pained him to have to even consider the possibilities of their future. If they could even have one.

“I know what I have to do,” Graham said solemnly, running his hands down her arms and grabbing onto her fingers. “I just want to protect you.”

“I know that means you have to leave,” Ruby swallowed hard, the tears pricking at her eyelids. She could blame the pregnancy hormones if she really wanted to, but her tears were welling up at the thought of losing the man that she loved. “Just give me tonight,” she babbled, her breath hitching in her throat. “And be gone when-”

Graham dropping to one knee in front of her stopped her words and Ruby gasped audibly. He looked up at her with watery blue eyes of his own, his cheeks red and his hands shaking as they gripped hers for dear life.

“Graham, what are you-”

“Ruby Lucas, will you marry me?” Graham rasped in a shaky voice. “I don’t know how, but we have to make this work. We have to be together. For Hunter,” he joked and Ruby matched his laugh with her own.

“He would miss you terribly,” she agreed in a soft voice.

“Oh, and the baby,” Graham added, in case she was ever in any doubt of his intentions. Ruby rolled her eyes and gave him a playful tap on the cheek. “And I love you. With everything I have and everything I ever will have. I can’t promise it will be easy-”

“What, you mean a human and a werewolf? Pfft. It’s always been so easy for those sort of couples before,” Ruby teased, the truth in her words hitting them both hard. There would only be so long they could joke about this until they had to come up with a viable solution. “On second thought,” Ruby said suddenly, her smile fading.

Graham jumped to his feet and his panicked gaze flitted over her features. He saw her pain, he smelled her fear and there was nothing he could do to take it away. “Ruby, If you say no, I’ll still fight tooth and nail to protect you with everything I have,” Graham told her earnestly, cupping her face in his hands. He pressed his mouth to hers, his bottom lip shaking a little against hers. “I will give up everything I’ve ever known to protect you and our child.”

“Really?” Ruby breathed, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Really,” Graham nodded, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ll even move in,” he laughed weakly. A single tear rolled down his cheek when he pinched his eyes closed and the lump in his throat made it hard to breathe.

“Okay, ask me again,” Ruby whispered, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt and holding him to her. Graham’s eyes opened to meet hers and she gave him a small smile.

“Ruby Lucas, Will you-”

“Yes,” she grinned as she cut him off, pulling his shirt hard until their lips met again.

Alii dimidium Lunam - flails/questions/comments this way!

[cleanedupkenny]

A List of Reasons Why I’m Sorry to Kota Ibushi (begun April 2015, ended January 2018)

Dear Diary,

Drama-Free 2019 can only press forward if I purge myself of all the drama, right?

So, after Invasion Attack 2015, when I did... that thing, I called Michael in kind of a... state. He suggested that I start this list and not show anyone (”anyone” meaning “just Bullet Club,” basically). I think mostly he was just sick of listening to me cry for three hours straight. But it helped. I think.

I’m hopped up on video games and energy drinks and not sleeping next to my Ibutan on the anniversary of our glorious reunion and I might regret this but you know what, I DON’T HAVE TO BE AFRAID OF THE BULLET CLUB ANYMORE AND I FEEL FREE, DAMN IT.

It’s a little hard to read from all the tear stains it’s gathered over the years, but Diary, here’s what I can make out:

Fuck fuck fuck I can’t believe I did that

Why did I do that I don’t even like AJ Styles like as a human being

I don’t even like bullets OR clubs what am I even doing [2019 note: there’s a little more here, completely smudged by tears]

Was any of that an actual apology... ooooops. Kota... I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I ruined that for you. I’m sorry you’re not champion right now. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m just so, so, so fucking sorry. I am going to regret that for the rest of my life, which is going to be miserable, and empty, and [2019 note: more tear stains]

Wait. What the fuck was I talking about? I’M NOT SORRY, I DON’T REGRET IT, AND I AM DEFINITELY NOT MISERABLE. I’m the reigning, defending IWGP junior heavyweight champion AND I’M A WAY BETTER ONE THAN YOU EVER WERE OR COULD HOPE TO BE! SO. THERE.

Oh, reading that back just now was... ehhhhh.

WHATEVER, it’s still true, and I will prove it against Kushida at Dominion! He’s just this Back to the Future fanboy, haha, can you imagine anything so dorky?

Now I’m trying to imagine explaining what Back to the Future is to you because you don’t watch movies and what your face would look like and now I’m sad again. Why are you like this? Why????

...aaaaaand I lost to Kushida.

I’m hiding in Matt and Nick’s hotel room to avoid having to tell the rest of Bullet Club that I just don’t like strip clubs and they’re not gonna make me feel better, okay, and why would that make me gay? I’m not even gay! I’m bisexual! Those are two different things!!!

I was tired and wound up just blurting to Tama “I’M NOT GAY” and then... didn’t follow that with anything. So now I’m a fucking coward, and he didn’t even look convinced anyway. I hate everything. Everything except the memory of when you’d let me lay my head in your lap and cry or sleep or just breathe or whatever while you’d twirl my hair around your fingers oh god fucking damn it [2019 note: you guessed it, more tear stains]

I beat Kushida! I’m definitely better than you again! And I’m about to celebrate by having sex with a woman that Tama picked up for me because he’s a great and thoughtful and caring friend!!!!

Um. She seemed nice. And didn’t even stay the night, just blew me a kiss and walked out. I feel weird. I’m gonna have to be way more enthusiastic about her to Tama. Shit.

Why can’t I just have casual sex like normal people do? Why??? On New Year’s this year I found the one other sober guy in all of Japan and was like, okay, this is fun, sex can just be fun, but it just felt like when you’re at the doctor’s testing your reflexes. That was like last night, too. But I couldn’t explain that to Tama, either, and he clearly didn’t buy my fake enthusiasm, so he definitely still just thinks I’m gay and that it needs to be corrected. I hate this. Is this title even fucking worth it? Remember the few times you’d top because you knew when I just needed all my feelings fucked out and afterwards you’d hold me while I cried? And it felt better than anything else in the world? How could I have ever let myself lose that? I’m gonna bring this back to its original purpose. I’m sorry I never realized how great I had it.

It... wasn’t all that great, now that I think about it.

When were you gonna tell me you were moving up to heavyweight?

I wouldn’t have stopped you. Did you think I was going to stop you? How could I? How could anyone stop YOU from doing literally anything at all, honestly?

I just... deserved a conversation. I was your partner. In more ways than one. You couldn’t give me that?

What did you want from me? Did you just like, want me to be your sidekick forever?

Did you... want me at all?

Or... was I just your tag team partner that you fucked sometimes?

[2019 note: wow, this was just a tissue, here]

Well, I lost to Kushida again. If you cared, I bet you’d be happy. Where the fuck did you go, anyway? Not that I care. Because from here on out, it’s my time. Shit’s about to happen. I have a fucking PLAN.

What’s the one thing better than kicking that bastard out of Bullet Club and taking his place as its leader?  Making my first order of business declaring that the Young Bucks and I are better than all of them, mwahahahaha. You should’ve seen Tama’s face. You could have. Seriously, where are you?

WHATEVER, I DON’T CARE, I AM WINNING CHAMPIONSHIPS AND BEATING YOUR GOD TANAHASHI AND THEN SINGING KATY PERRY TO CELEBRATE. FUCK YEAH.

...”research institute”??? Oh whatever I DON’T. CARE.

MY FIRST G1 AND I’M GONNA WIN, UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE. WINNING WINNING WINNING.

Hold the fuck up. WWE? You’re going to fucking WWE????!!!! What the fuck??????????? Is... is something actually wrong with you? Did you come back wrong? Who are you?

IT DOESN’T MATTER I’M DOING THE G1 LA LA LAAAAA

I WON THE G1 FIRST GAIJIN EVER and if I did it with your moves it’s to prove I’m better at them than you are and if I mentioned you in the press it was just to rub your face in it HA HA HA HAAAAAA!!!!!

And no one will ever tell me how to celebrate again, damn it. If I wanna eat ice cream with Matt and Nick damn it I’m gonna and the rest of them can just fuck off to their booze and their strippers and god knows what else! I maybe said that aloud to them. Because I fucking can!!!

Matt asked me if I was okay and said uh, yeah, I’m going to fucking Wrestle Kingdom to become the heavyweight champion, which YOU have have never done, why wouldn’t I be? And he was like, that’s just it, though, you keep talking about him. So I kind of stopped talking.

Remember how we used to celebrate? Not that I am. Not that it meant anything to you.

I’m gonna be generous and assume that you lost to TJ Perkins because you were so overwhelmingly impressed by my win. What has happened to you???

OMG I heard you’re not signing with WWE which... um... fine. That’s fine. Good career choice, that’s all.

You’re all over the place now. Except my place. Which is fine! I have Okada! Must focus!!

Uhhh. Turns out Okada is champion for a reason. Um. I need to rethink... everything. Yeah, I used one of your moves again. Whatever.

The fucking Bullet Club, I swear. “Kenny, come out with us, you’ll love these girls!” (NO.) “Kenny, why don’t you let anyone but Matt and Nick second you, what, are you playing favorites?” (Uh, duh!) “Kenny, did you really murder Adam Cole?” (...no comment.) “Kenny, what exactly is Cody Rhodes doing here?” (Being interesting, okay? He has potential. He seems like someone I’d actually get along with, too, unlike you pieces of shit.) I’m gonna hide with Matt and Nick some more. And Marty, he’s cool, even if he still checks out my junk when he thinks I’m not looking. And Cody, I guess.

I see you went viral for shooting fireworks onto yourself and then moonsaulting off a car. Pffftt. It’s like no one knows you. It’s WAY the fuck weirder that you went to WWE.

I hung out with Cody alone and wound up kissing him. I realized what a bad idea this was before it got any further (I legitimately forgot he was married for a second, where the fuck is my head at?), but going by the look on his face, there was... damage... done. So I ran. Like you ran, I imagine, once you realized how much I... loved you. I loved you.

I love you. Part of me always will. I want to be the part that doesn’t. I don’t think it’s working.

Cody almost ruined my rematch with Okada, like I ruined your match with AJ, so, yeah, I fucked up there. I’m still pissed, though. How were you not this pissed? I’m totally going to make him pay for this, how did you not do that to me? Did I want you to? Was that why I did it?

Well, I’m not sorry. Just like I’m not sorry for texting Brandi right now.

I ran in on Cody’s match with Okada and I keep thinking about that instead of the actual title I just won. I’m going to meet Brandi and I don’t know who I am anymore. This is starting to feel like a confessional. Well, it’s sure as fuck not, or ever going to be an apology, ever again.

Well, that was dumb. Brandi is terrifying. I couldn’t even get it up. Then she demanded to know what I did with Cody. She threatened to waterboard me. Do they still do that in America? Why am I asking you?

I’m so glad you’re never going to actually read this. [2019 note: DRAMA-FREE 2019, we believe in transparency this year, damn it!]

.........................................................................................

You’re back.

You’re not in my block.

I need you to make it to the finals.

I need to make it to the finals.

I need this. I need you to know how I felt. How I feel.

That’s all.

Wait... what happened? You... you’re out of the running.

You really never cared about me. That’s it. That proves it. Not me talking about you in the press endlessly and you not dignifying it with a response. You were never much of a talker. But... you couldn’t even wrestle the way I know you can, the way that should get you to WIN the fucking G1.

I get the message. Fine. Fuck you, too. I’m gonna keep doing what I’m good at - better at than you, that’s for sure: winning.

I pinned him. I pinned Okada. You couldn’t have ignored that. I made sure you didn’t. You like my gear, Ibutan? I’m gonna keep proving how much better I am than you when I wear to pin Naito tomorrow, too.

...........What.

What the fuck were you doing there?

What do you want from me?

Don’t you want to just fight me? I’m sure you think you can still beat me. I wanted to prove you wrong. Come on, goddamn it, make me prove you wrong.

Why did your hands have to feel like... your hands? They felt like... like... part of me. A part of me I lost somewhere.

Why does your voice have to be so soft? Why did you have to be so gentle? So tender? So... caring? You don’t give a shit about me, remember?

You don’t. You don’t care. You never cared.

Please don’t make me think you cared.

I actually got on the phone with Michael to pass along that last message. I don’t care how childish it was, I needed you to hear that one thing. His response was to ask me if I really believed that.

I can’t. I can’t not believe it.

I have a bad feeling about this thing with Cody, like it’s gonna get ugly. I told him to stay away from you, just in case. If nothing else, I’m still the leader of Bullet Club. They all recognize that! They’ll keep him in check against you, at least.

I just... don’t want him to mess with you. You don’t need to get mixed up in this. It’ll get ugly. Like I said. That’s all it is.

Oh, great, of course the second I have my back turned, he messes with you! What was I thinking, honestly? Motherfucker...

I want to tell you... be careful. He’s gonna bring Brandi, and they’re gonna cheat. Maybe I’ll tell Michael to tell you. You don’t know them. It’s only fair.

Or... he’s gonna... flirt with you? What the...?

I want to fucking slap him every time he touches you.

Please kick the shit out of him.

You Phoenix splashed the life out of him! I wish that was literal!!!!

When he said I don’t love you like he loves you... I...

How’s your English these days? Maybe you didn’t understand him! Anyway, New Year Dash tonight, and you’re stuck with him again. I’m... I’m sorry. I’m genuinely sorry, once more. I don’t care how bitter I am. He shouldn’t be your problem.

Well. Since I can’t hide behind trying to recruit Jay White or my triumph over Jericho here... people keep asking me why I stopped Cody, and honestly? I don’t even know why they’re asking. I didn’t even have to think. I just ran. So when someone asks, I just stare at them until they stop asking.

I hope you’re okay.

Jesus christ, they’re making you tag against Cody AGAIN? Him trying to maim you last time wasn’t enough?

I see he’s just doubling down on me supposedly not caring about you. He wishes. I don’t wish, though. Not anymore. Those years we were together were real, and they mattered, and I can’t just rip them out of me. I’d be ripping out my spine. My guts. Oh, fuck it. My heart. Anyway, as long as Cody keeps his hands off chairs, I think you can take care of yourself. You’re tough, and as far as what he’s saying goes, I don’t think anyone’s fooled anymore. If they ever were.

After I beat Jay... maybe you’d want a shot at this title. You deserve it. You deserve... something. You always did. I never wanted to stop you. I just wanted to talk. I could’ve talked. I know I could’ve tried. I wish I had. I’m really sorry I didn’t. I’m sorry it took me three years to come around to that. I’m sorry I can’t just tell you this right now. But I will. Eventually. It’s gonna be hard, but I’ll figure out how to do it. I just have to.

I can’t sleep. Not when I can watch you sleep for the first time in years. What a fucking day. What am I gonna do with this notebook, now? I apologized to your face. And you... you apologized too. I wanted to apologize for ever doubting you, but you knew, you knew why I did, and you said you were sorry. Oh, Kota... [2019 note: ah, there are the waterworks again!] I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know what we’re up against. I don’t know if you want to team with me again. I don’t know how much Matt and Nick are really on our side, although I hope they are. Losing them would be almost as bad as losing you, by now. I don’t know if I’ve got the Bullet Club, but I’m not gonna lie, that power doesn’t suck, and I’ll hang on to it as long as I can. What I do know, now, is that if someone forces me to choose, I’ll choose you, over anything. I love you, and you love me. I felt it so many times, when you chased them away, when you hugged me, when I was inside you... I feel it everywhere. I always did, I think. Maybe I’ll keep this notebook as a reminder of how not to be an idiot about it. Or at least as a reminder of how NOT to apologize to you, because a lot of this... eeesh.

I feel so cleansed, Diary. I wish I could hold @goldenxstar right now. At least, unlike four years ago, I’m confident that I will, soon enough.

xoxo,

Kenny