#setting a story in that city was the best idea i've ever had

[brunchable]

The Marriage Bet

Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)

Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.

A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2

Three Years Ago

"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.

You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”

He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”

The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”

You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”

He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.

“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

× × × × 

Present

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.

It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.

“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”

You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”

You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking. 

“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.

Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”

Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”

You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”

“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”

Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.

He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”

You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.

“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”

You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”

“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”

Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?”

“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”

His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”

“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”

Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”

You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.

You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.

“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”

Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music. 

“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.

You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.

Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”

Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”

“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.

× × × ×

A few months later.

The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.

Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.

“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”

Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”

The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.

“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.

The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky. 

When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”

“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”

His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”

You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.

When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”

Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”

“I think so too,” you murmured back.

The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”

“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”

A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”

You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”

His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs. 

Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss. 

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”

“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”

Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”

You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”

And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.

× × × ×

1.5 years later

You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.

How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?

Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.

“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”

“Supposed to what?”

You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.

His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”

He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.

Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”

You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”

“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.

“Wait… is that a—?”

“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.

Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”

You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”

“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.

Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”

“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”

“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”

He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”

“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”

Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”

Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”

“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”

You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”

The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”

“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”

With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.

Positive.

Positive.

Positive.

Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.

“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.

He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”

You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”

“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”

“Bucky—”

“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.

“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.

“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.

You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”

He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.

“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”

After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”

“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”

Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.

“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”

“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”

He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”

“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”

Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”

“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”

“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”

“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”

“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.

And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.

× × × ×

First Trimester.

The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.

He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”

Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”

Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”

“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”

The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.

“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”

“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”

Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”

“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”

Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”

You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”

“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”

Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”

“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”

Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”

A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.

“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”

“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.

Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”

You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”

“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”

“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”

And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.

“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.

“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”

You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.

“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.

“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”

You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”

Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”

“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”

Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”

You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.

“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”

You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”

“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”

You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.

“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”

His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”

The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”

“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”

“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.

“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”

“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”

With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”

“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”

You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.

Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.

You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.

“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”

“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.

“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”

“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.

As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.

Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.

× × × ×

Third Trimester

Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.

It began with the shoelaces.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.

“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.

“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.

“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”

“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”

You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”

He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.

Then there was the laundry basket incident.

It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.

“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.

“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”

“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.

He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”

Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”

“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”

You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.

It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.

One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”

“Bucky—”

“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.

With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”

“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.

It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.

The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.

“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.

“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.

You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”

“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”

“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”

“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”

“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”

Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”

By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.

“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”

“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.

You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

× × × ×

“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”

“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.

“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”

Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression. 

“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”

“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.

Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.

Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”

“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”

“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.

He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,’ and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.

“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.

“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”

“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”

You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.

But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.

“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”

Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”

“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”

Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”

You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.

“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.

“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”

Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.

“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”

You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”

“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”

He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.

“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”

“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.

He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”

“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”

He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”

A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.

“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”

You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.

“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”

With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.

Even if he does go overboard sometimes.

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer!Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 1]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism] Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: I have this listed as "part one", because I may want to continue it in the future! This is just an idea that I've had floating around in my head, and I really haven't been inspired to write more of my other story lately, so why not put this out? If you'd like more of this story, please let me know and I can possibly continue it, if it's something y'all are interested in!

(It got another part)

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

New York City is always bustling on a Monday morning. Crowds of people piling onto the sprawling connection of subway, buses and sidewalks on their way for another week of hard work. Jung Kook was among them, wearing a discounted, freshly pressed suit, and a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand. AirPods in his ear, he let the newest pop playlist cover up the sound of the crowded street on his way to his new office. There was a little, barely noticeable pep in his step, hinting at his excitement for his first day. 

His office building was rather large, even by his own metrics. Coming from Seoul, Jung Kook was no stranger to towering buildings, but this fresh law office had something glistening about its structure. As he entered through the front rotating tour, scanning the pass in his lanyard to be let in, any seasoned attorney would quickly recognize the wide-eyed young man as an ambitious rookie. 

“Jung Kook!” A voice called out from across the lobby. Jung Kook stopped walking and looked up, scanning the room to see Mr. Kim Namjoon, one of the best defense attorneys he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, greeting him with a dimpled smile. 

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” Jung Kook responded, quickly making his way over to greet him. 

“Aish, Jung Kook. Call me Namjoon.” He smiled shyly. “We’ll be working together as partners, I won’t be just a mentor to you anymore. I want you to feel comfortable around me.” 

“Right, of course.” Jung Kook grinned. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m really excited.” 

“That’s great to hear.” Namjoon’s voice was warm and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how’d willing you’d be to leave Korea, but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, it um…” Jung Kook pauses, thinking to himself for a moment for the right words to say. “It was a move that was for the best.” 

Namjoon kept a smile on his face, but furrowed his brows just briefly as he read into the younger man’s explanation. Not wanting to press too much, he motioned Jung Kook to follow him to the elevator. They walked together with comfortable conversation, questions about Jung Kook’s move to the city and his commute. As the elevator took them high above the rest of the city, Jung Kook’s finger absentmindedly tapped on the coffee cup he held, jitters taking over. 

“We had a case come in that I think you’ll be perfect to help me with.” Namjoon said, leading Jung Kook to his new office overlooking the city. There was an unorganized set of case files already on the desk. “You can put your stuff here, please make this space your own. The case is centering a Korean family, actually, so I thought maybe the two of us could connect with them on that level. Wealthy family, they’ve been doing business in the States a long time. But the son of the founder just recently inherited the company, and he’s being accused of defrauding investors. I need you to look over the case, and tell me what you think.” 

Jung Kook nodded as he took his seat at his desk, opening up the file to read the defendant’s name, Park Jimin. The name sounded oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it aside as he read the details of the case. 

“…Coaxed into investments using fraudulent and misleading data and projections…” Jung Kook read out loud, under his breath, before looking up at Namjoon. “So, he allegedly massaged the numbers into looking bigger than they are, leading to an increase of investments.” 

“Hm.” Namjoon hummed, leaning against the door frame. “Then when the actual numbers came in, and they were nowhere close to what he had projected, he didn’t have the money to pay out. Now it’s our problem.” 

“Yeah, ok.” Jung Kook nodded. “I have some ideas but I’d like to ask him some questions.” 

“Perfect. I’ll give you his contact info, but he should be flying into the city tomorrow. He wants to meet with us anyways, he just needed a little time.” 

“For what?” 

“He recently got engaged.” Namjoon responded nonchalantly, scrolling through the contacts in his iPhone. “She comes from a wealthy family from Busan, apparently. Their fathers knew each other, since they’re both from the city..” 

“Oh, they’re both from my city, I knew his name sounded familiar.” Jung Kook acknowledged. “Since her family is wealthy, maybe I’ve heard of them, too. What’s her name?” 

“Aish, I can’t remember…” Namjoon thought for a moment. “Mr. Park mentioned her, and now my mind is blanking.” 

The two startled when Namjoon’s phone rang. Namjoon apologized before stepping out to take the client’s call, leaving Jung Kook with his case files to further review. The rest of the day passed for the new, young lawyer, buried in a mountain of papers and taking notes. Namjoon peeked into his office on occasion to bring him coffee, or chat, or ask him about the case. But it was a slow, calm first day. 

As was the next day, and the day after that. Jung Kook got into a routine as the weeks passed, feeling a growing sense of familiarity with the way that he was able to bury himself in his work. It was a nice way to briefly consume himself and chase away the loneliness of the last two years of his life. 

He slowly made friends at his new firm. Never the extrovert, he was shy at first and afraid to open up. But knowing Namjoon for several years gave him a foot in the door, and allowed him an entry way into conversations that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. They asked about his life back home, and never dug too deep when he gave vague answers. He appreciated that, and his colleagues grew to like the handsome young lawyer. 

Finally, on a Friday, as the week was winding down and Jung Kook was thinking of possible weekend plans, Namjoon quickly walked into his office after a brief warning knock to his door. 

“We have a surprise meeting with Mr. Park.” Namjoon explained. “He just flew in from Seoul with his fiancé, and called me to say they want to meet with us. They’ll be here in a few minutes, so grab your notes and meet me in the conference room.” 

Jung Kook’s eyes widened and he responded with a quick “ok”, before gathering up his collection of papers into a manila folder, and walking to meet Namjoon, stopping momentarily only to grab another quick cup of coffee to make sure he was alert. Being his first client meeting since joining the firm, he wanted to make sure he was at his best. 

Settling into the conference room, Jung Kook looked over his notes, and made sure to have a pen to write down anything he may need later. He could see a light reflection of himself in the wall of windows facing the rest of the office, which he used to make sure his hair and suit looked presentable. He was hoping that with the money he made off of this case, he could buy a new, nicer suit like the one he saw in a shop window that he passed by not long ago. 

His thoughts of a modest suit however were quieted by the presence of what he knew immediately to be his client walking down the office halls, nearing the conference room. Dressed in a luxurious, designer black suit and Louboutin loafers, Park Jimin was striking at first glance. He hid his eyes behind black sunglasses despite being indoors, and his dyed blonde hair complimented his glowing complexion and lush, pink lips. He looked expensive, the textbook definition of an heir. 

The woman by his side looked gorgeous, Jung Kook thought. She was also beautifully dressed, in a sharp, maroon pencil dress and heels, with sunglasses also covering her eyes. Her Chanel bag dangled off her shoulder, her head was down, and her hand was intertwined with Mr. Park’s as they walked.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted with a bow as he opened the door for the couple. “How was the flight in?” 

“It was excellent, thank you. Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin responded, taking off his sunglasses, before turning his attention to Jung Kook. “Hello, I’m not sure we’ve met.” 

“Jeon Jung Kook. I’ve just recently been added to look over the case.” Jung Kook smiled, standing up from his chair to bow. “It’s a pleasure.” 

“Park Jimin.” Jimin introduced himself. “And this is my fiancé, Y/N.” 

Y/N. Jung Kook repeated in his head, his eyes widening. It’s not possible. 

You took off your glasses before bowing to Namjoon, and raised to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. Your expression matched his own, recognizing the man instantly. 

“Jung Kook?” You smiled warmly. “Jeon Jung Kook? Oh my God, what a small world!” 

“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked with a raised brow. He looked over at the young lawyer, who was staring at you with large eyes and parted lips. 

“Jung Kook is an old classmate of mine.” You explained to Namjoon and your fiancé. “We went to the same university ages ago, when we were still living in Busan.” 

This was Jung Kook’s worst nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. Here you were. You. Just as warm, beautiful, and personable as ever. Just as clueless as ever. It was amazing how you could be such an angel, but put him through so much pain, and not even know it. 

“How have you been?” You asked with an innocent, bright grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

“I-I’ve… been good.” Jung Kook stuttered, causing the other men in the room to look at him with growing suspicion. 

“Honey, I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned a Jung Kook.” Jimin said in a sweet tone directed at you, while his eyes judgmentally looked Jung Kook up and down. Namjoon nervously watched the interaction, waiting to bud in at any opportune time. 

“We just had a couple classes together.” You explained. “Jung Kook, wasn’t it um…” 

“History.” He finished your sentence, quicker and more deadpan in his tone than what he meant to. “And our political science class.” 

“That’s right!” You nodded. “I remember you were always so smart, I guess it makes perfect sense you practice law now.” 

“We’re happy to have him on the team.” Namjoon interjected, walking over to Jung Kook’s side of the table. He noted how Jimin still seemed unsure of Jung Kook’s mannerisms, and wanted to press on with the meeting. “Let’s get started, I’m sure the two of you have plans for the evening.” 

Everyone took their seat, and Jung Kook stared at the blank notepad in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, but pretended not to be bothered. He scribbled down the date on the paper, desperate to not meet the client’s gaze. 

“So, we reviewed the case.” Namjoon began, seeing how Jimin’s death stare didn’t shake from Jung Kook as he spoke. “We think that we have an excellent shot at winning, and to be completely honest, we’re expecting the judge to throw the case out.” 

“That’s great news!” You said excitedly. “Honey, you’ve been so worried about this.” 

Jimin looked at you, his eyes softening and a soft smile appearing. He rested a hand on your thigh, and looked over towards Namjoon. 

“That is great news. Thank you, Mr. Kim.” 

“Jung Kook has been reviewing the case for several days now, and he put together a couple arguments that we’ll present to the court, and have this ordeal finished, so you can move on.” 

“Y-Yeah, so um…” Jung Kook started, the weight of everyone’s stare feeling heavy and thick in the air. He was careful to avoid your eyes in particular, sure that his reaction would be less than professional. “First of all, the numbers allegedly presented to investors were never your numbers, Mr. Park, they were the numbers that your father had supposedly projected. The suit is filed against you, not the company, so we can argue that you cannot be held personably liable for any losses. A-Also, there’s no um… There’s no physical evidence of these exact projections being shown that the plaintiffs presented so um… We could argue insufficient evidence.” 

If Jung Kook were brave, he’d look up from his notes to see the way you grinned at him with the same, beautiful smile he used to see walking across campus every day. If he were brave, he’d tell you how beautiful that smile, and the rest of you, have always been to him. 

If he were brave, he would’ve told you that a long time ago. But Jung Kook has never been brave. Not then, and definitely not now. Not when his client is shooting daggers at him from across the table, and a sparkling 24k gold and diamond on your finger reminds him of the thing he’s always known; you’re too good for someone like him. You deserve more. 

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.” Jimin said calmly, eyeing the young lawyer up and down, before turning his attention to you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I think Mr. Jeon has this whole thing figured out. What do you think, darling?”

“I agree.” You blushed at your fiancé’s uncharacteristic public affection. “He’s always been so smart.” 

“It seems so.” Jimin responded. “In that case, I believe we can wrap up this check-in meeting. I’d like to take my love out to dinner tonight. It’s her first time in New York City.” 

“Is it?” Namjoon’s voice was pleasant but quick as he spoke. “Well, let’s not keep you two waiting. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch. Please, Mr. Park, don’t be afraid to reach out to either of us if you need anything.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jimin said, getting up from his chair and helping you out of yours before bowing to the lawyers. 

“Jung Kook, it was so nice to see you.” You said, waving at him while Jimin placed a hand on your back to lead you from the room. “Thank you for working on this for us.” 

“O-Of course.” He bowed. “You two have a nice night.” 

With that, Jimin led you away from the room and down the office, and Jung Kook watched as he took your hand in his and caressed your skin with his thumb. It amazed him how even after all this time, seeing you with another man makes his chest ache. 

“So….” Namjoon’s irritable voice said, leaning against the table. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” 

“It’s nothing.” Jung Kook responded quietly, cleaning up his papers to avoid making eye contact. “Just an old classmate.” 

“Nothing?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. “Our client just burned a hole through you with his glare the entire meeting, and you want to call that nothing?” 

“I want to go home.” Jung Kook said with growing frustration. “I promise, it’s nothing. It’s just been a hard first few weeks, ok?” 

Jung Kook was headed out the door quickly, when Namjoon grabbed his arm to make him stop for a moment.

“If something is going on with our client’s fiancé… if there’s a history there or whatever, you need to let me know so we can manage this. We can’t lose Jimin as a client, we’d both be out of a job. He brings in too much money.” 

“What, does he get into this type of shit a lot or something?” 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asks. “It’s part of the job, dealing with rich clients that have more money than sense. They didn’t teach you that in class? Or were you too busy ogling her?” 

“It’s really nothing.” Jung Kook said, this time more calmly through gritted teeth. “I just need to go home.” 

Namjoon sighed as Jung Kook left the room, and cursed his luck with the obvious situation under his breath. 

[sarawayne0510]

ATE

pairing: Bangchan x fem!driver

summary: What if the worlds of Formula 1 and K-pop collided? Follow the story of a Red Bull rookie driver and Stray Kids' leader, Bang Chan

warnings: none?? just cute fluff basically, mention of Y/N

word count: 2.2k ish

Genre: SMAU/Fluff

The golden hour in Monaco was always breathtaking, casting a warm, soft glow over the city. I wandered into a small album store, tucked away from the bustling streets, hoping to find some new music to add to my collection. The scent of vinyl and freshly printed album covers filled the air, instantly putting me at ease.

As I scanned the shelves, a particular album caught my eye-Stray Kids' latest, ATE. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't resist; my hand instinctively reached out, and I grabbed it. The cover was stunning, the colors vibrant, and I could already hear the tracks playing in my mind. It was impossible not to smile as I held it, admiring the print.

I was completely absorbed in the moment when a voice broke through the silence. "Stray Kids, huh?" The words were familiar, yet they startled me. I was sure I was alone when I walked in.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding, and there he was-Bang Chan, standing right in front of me. He looked just as casual and cool as ever, a cap pulled low over his forehead, but there was no mistaking who he was. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that Stray Kids have been on their European tour and decided to take a little break but In Monaco!?

For a moment, I just stared at him, too shocked to say anything, clutching the ATE album as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Hi, by any chance, are you (Y/N)?" Chan asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my cool. "And you're Bang Chan, right?"

He chuckled softly, nodding. "I didn't expect you to recognize me. These days, I'm just trying to get into F1, and when I saw you, I couldn't help but ask."

"Oh, really? Well, how could I not recognize my favorite band member?" I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief. "This is definitely the best day of my life."

Just as I was soaking in the moment, my phone buzzed with a message from my manager, calling me in for an urgent meeting. I sighed internally-of all the times, it had to be now. "Oh lord, I've never wanted to kill someone as much as I do right now," I muttered under my breath, feeling a pang of frustration.

I quickly excused myself, offering an apologetic smile to Chan. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go."

"Of course, no worries," he said with an understanding nod. "It was great meeting you."

With a heavy heart, I left the store, heading back home as quickly as I could. Once I got there, I opened my laptop, ready to join the meeting. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about him the entire time. Bang Chan-THE Bang Chan had recognized me, talked to me, and now, I couldn't get him out of my head.

The last thing I wanted was to attend another F1 party. After a long day, the idea of socializing felt more exhausting than exhilarating. But George had other plans, practically dragging me along despite my protests.

As soon as I stepped into the venue, I felt the familiar wave of reluctance wash over me. The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the room was packed with people -just the kind of setting I wasn't in the mood for. Before I could slip away to a quiet corner, Christian called me over, waving me toward a group of team principals. To my dismay, Christian was standing right beside Toto.

Oh lord, please don't tell me they're at it again, I thought, bracing myself for another one of their infamous spats that somehow always seemed to drag me into the middle of it. But to my surprise, everything was calm. They just wanted me to listen to their old man talk, reminiscing about races and strategies from before I was even born.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to excuse myself. I needed a break, and the bar seemed like the perfect escape. As I approached, I noticed someone sitting there, casually sipping a drink. My heart skipped a beat when I realized who it was.

Bang Chan.

Of all the people, in all the places, here he was again. I couldn't help but grin. Maybe I was God's favorite after all.

I slid onto the barstool beside him, feeling a rush of excitement. "Fancy seeing you here," I started, trying to keep my voice casual but failing to hide my enthusiasm.

Chan turned to me, a smile spreading across his face. "Seems like fate, doesn't it?"

And just like that, the conversation flowed naturally, as if we'd known each other for years.

As Bang Chan and I continued our conversation at the bar, I could feel a few pairs of eyes on us. When I glanced around, I spotted a small group of drivers-Max, Lando, Carlos, and George-hovering nearby. They were clearly trying (and failing) to be discreet, whispering and exchanging wide-eyed looks.

I caught Lando nudging George, who nearly spilled his drink as he tried to keep his excitement in check. Max, usually so composed, was grinning like a kid who'd just uncovered the world's biggest secret, while Carlos had a look of utter disbelief on his face.

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "I think we've got an audience," I whispered to Chan, nodding subtly in their direction.

He turned to see what I was talking about and chuckled, shaking his head. "They look like they're about to explode," he said, amused.

Just then, George gave Lando a not-so-subtle shove, and the group erupted into barely contained laughter, causing Chan and me to exchange amused glances.

"Should we give them something to really talk about?" I joked, raising an eyebrow.

Chan grinned, clearly enjoying the idea. "Why not?"

We leaned in closer, pretending to be deep in conversation, which only made the drivers freak out even more. They were practically bouncing on their heels, trying to contain their excitement, and it took everything in me not to burst out laughing.

Chan pulled out his phone. “You know, we should definitely stay in touch,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

I smiled, pulling out my own phone. “I’d like that.”

We quickly exchanged numbers, and I saved his contact under “Bang Chan <3". As we finished, I noticed the drivers watching us intently, their faces lighting up with barely contained glee.

“Looks like they’re pretty excited for us,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“Seems that way,” I agreed, trying to keep my composure. “I think we might have just given them a story for the ages.”

With our numbers exchanged and the excitement of the evening bubbling around us, it was clear that this was one night neither of us would soon forget.

The tweet was accompanied by a photo from the party where Bang Chan and I were chatting, and the reactions were immediate. Fans were abuzz, speculating and shipping us together. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden attention.

Deciding to lean into the fun, I posted a photo on Instagram

Playing Stray Kids-JJAM

"On repeat 🎧"

And posted a reel of me and Lily dancing to Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies.”

@(username)

"💃💖"

@lilymhe

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@Lilymhe: “@(Y/N) my wife 💖✨️

↳@(your_username) MY WAG!!

↳@user our fav couple

↳@alex_stop GIRLS STOP! ITS CONSERNING AT THIS POINT GO TO YOUR AUSTRALIAN MAN!!

↳ user127 alex don't be shy spill

@LandoNorris nurse she is out again!!

@gnabnahc 💖

↳@lilymhe back off

@maxverstappen1 So THIS is what was happening in the hotel hallway last night?

@CarlosSainz55 I left you alone for 2 minutes!!!

The Monza GP had been a nightmare. The car was in its worst state, and there was a moment when I almost lost control entirely. It was a close call—too close. My heart was still racing from the near-accident, and the disappointment of not finishing not even in top 5 weighed heavily on me. All I wanted was to forget about the day, but the memories kept playing on a loop in my mind.

Just as I was about to curl up and try to sleep, my phone buzzed with a message from Chan:

Chan: “I heard about the race. Are you okay? Big hugs from afar 💛”

I sighed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Y/N: “It was a disaster… I was so close to crashing, and the car was a mess. I could really use a hug right now.”

Moments later, there was a soft knock on my driver's room . Confused, I got up and opened it to find a figure standing there, in all black and in a facemask and sunglasses. It took me a second to realize who it was, but the familiar warmth in his eyes gave him away immediately.

“Chan?” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

He nodded, pulling down the mask to reveal his face. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug. I buried my face in his chest, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled against his shirt, my voice shaky. “I almost crashed, Chan. It was so close…”

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. “But you didn’t. You’re okay, and that’s what matters. I’m here now, okay? Big hugs, just like I promised.”

We stood there in the doorway for a long moment, neither of us saying anything, just holding each other. His presence was calming, like a warm blanket on a cold day, and slowly, the tension in my body began to melt away.

“How did you even get here?” I finally asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

Chan grinned, a little sheepishly. “I was already in monza for promotion, so I thought I’d come see you. Had to go incognito, though—don’t want to cause a scene.” He gestured to the mask and glasses with a small laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile, despite everything. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. But… I’m so glad you did.”

“Of course I did. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” His voice was soft, sincere, and it made my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you, Chan,” I whispered, leaning into his embrace once more. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Anytime, (Y/N). I’ll always be here for you.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I realized just how much he meant to me. The world outside didn’t matter—just the two of us, here, together.

With two weeks until the next race in Baku, I finally had some time to relax. Chan and I decided to escape the spotlight and spend our break in Capri, Italy—a perfect getaway where we could just be ourselves, away from the hustle and bustle of our busy lives.

Capri was everything I needed—crystal-clear waters, picturesque views, and a peaceful atmosphere. We spent our days exploring the island, walking hand-in-hand through narrow streets lined with colorful buildings, and taking boat rides around the stunning coastline. It was like a dream, and being with Chan made it even more special.

One afternoon, we found a quaint little café tucked away from the more crowded areas. The sun was shining through the vines that draped over the outdoor seating, casting dappled shadows on the cobblestone path. We settled into a cozy corner table, laughing over the silly adventures we’d had that day.

As we waited for our drinks, Chan suddenly grew quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going through his mind.

“What’s up?” I asked, nudging him playfully.

“Just… thinking,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

Before I could ask him what he was thinking about, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. Carefully, he started folding it, his fingers moving with surprising precision. I watched in fascination as the paper slowly took shape, until it became a small, delicate ring.

He looked up at me, a bit of nervousness in his eyes, and gently took my hand. “I know this isn’t much, but… I wanted to make something for you. Something to remind you that I’m always here, no matter where we are.” He slipped the paper ring onto my finger, his touch sending a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite describe.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked at the simple yet meaningful ring, and then back at Chan. “It’s perfect,” I whispered, touched by the gesture.

He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, and then met my eyes with a sincerity that made my heart melt. “(Y/N), I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now… Spending these days with you, away from everything, has made me realize just how much you mean to me. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore. I love you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. My heart swelled with emotion, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Chan… I love you too. I’ve felt this way for so long, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

His face lit up, and before I knew it, he was pulling me into a tight hug. We stayed like that for a while, holding each other close, both of us smiling like lovestruck fools.

When we finally pulled back, Chan brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes full of warmth and love. “This is just the beginning, you know,” he said softly. “I want to be with you, no matter what.”

I nodded, my heart full. “I want that too, Chan. Wherever this journey takes us, I’m just glad we’re in it together.”

And as we sat there in that little café in Capri, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, wrapped in the warmth of our newfound love.

@gnabnahc

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@gnabnansc In the end

@(your_username)

@(your_username) it's him and I

Liked by @gnabnahc,miniversr.___, lilymhe,alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon

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@lilymhe welcome home cheater

@alex_albon finally!😮‍💨

@user119 rue when was this!?

@user143 MOTHER IS THAT A MEN WITH YOU!!!!

@gnabnahc love is patient. Love is kind. Love is slowly losing your mind.

↳@lilymhe alex when I catch you alex... Why can’t you be like him?!

↳@alex_albon Not everyone can be Bang Chan. But I’m trying!

@CarlosSainz55 I LEFT YOU ALONE FOR 2 WEEKS!!

@alexandrasaintmleux pick up the phone RIGHT NOW!

@(your_username)

"I need a big boy😮‍💨"

@gnabnahc

Posted a story!

"Sometimes big boys also need passengers princess treatment"

______________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading my fanfiction! It’s my first time writing, and I really appreciate your support. If you’re interested in a part 2 or want to be tagged, just let me know. Thanks again! :3

@charizznorizz

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[deconstructthesoup]

I think the reason that Dimension 20 really scratches all those itches in my brain is that it really shows what you can do with D&D---and TTRPGs as a whole.

Fantasy High, by itself, is an incredibly compelling concept. What would D&D look like in a semi-modern setting? What would a high school that's all about teaching teens how to be adventurers look like? And the way it's done is beyond inventive, especially if you look at all the encounters in the first season---we've got a literal food fight, a high-speed road chase with tiefling greasers, a nightclub brawl with zombies, vampires, and werewolves, a skating match with a bunch of dwarven middle schoolers and a concrete golem, a high-stakes game of football (ish) with undead jocks that give off major teen slasher vibes, a fight done in an arcade where characters can get trapped in the consoles, and the final battle is done at prom. PROM! How cool is that?

And then we get to the Unsleeping City, which takes the urban fantasy elements that Fantasy High already had and elevates it. The way the D&D lore and magic is interpreted in a modern New York setting is excellent, as is the whole take on the "American Dream," magic literally coming from dreams, ideas, and the imagination. I know that I need to actually finish the UC saga, but from what I've seen and experienced, it is truly fantastic.

And the same energy carries through to the other seasons---my personal favorite outside of Fantasy High being A Court of Fey and Flowers, just because I'm a sucker for any Fey Realm content and I've been raised on Jane Austen---where the genre mashups shine through in the best way possible. I'll admit, I haven't seen A Crown of Candy, purely because I know how heartbreaking and devastating it is and I don't think I can physically handle it, but the concept of Candyland Game of Thrones is so beautifully bizarre that I totally get why people love it so much. Escape from the Bloodkeep hitting that workplace comedy vibe that we love to see in villains. Misfits & Magic being a love letter to the "magical boarding school" genre while also calling out all the weird contradictions inherent in it. A Starstruck Odyssey literally being an homage to Brennan's mom and exactly the kind of madcap and unhinged energy I need from my sci-fi. Neverafter perfectly encapsulating the true horror of fairy tales. Mentopolis hitting my noir-loving heart and personifying hyperfixation in the best way possible.

I'm not even kidding when I say that, if it weren't for Dimension 20... I probably wouldn't have even started my own campaign. I'd had snippets and ideas ever since officially getting into D&D and joining a game with some old friends (and getting back in touch with them in the process), but after I saw the Mentopolis trailer, I realized just how much variety TTRGPs had to offer. I could do a time-blending, history-meets-future campaign. I could go out-of-the-box. I could have endless amounts of options available to my friends and still tell the story that I wanted to tell. And when I sat down and watched Fantasy High---and when I got that Dropout subscription so I could consume whatever I wanted---it felt like the show was actually giving me advice. It's fantastic.

Also it helps that the episodes are usually only roughly a couple hours instead of being, like, an entire afternoon long. And that each season is 20 episodes, tops. No offense to Critical Role, but the sheer amount of content literally makes it impossible for me to get into it.

[theheirofthesharingan]

Are there any silly or interesting Itachi/Sasuke/other character headcanons you've always wanted to share?

Some of these will be Modern-AUish, some canon compliant, and some Akatsuki AU.

Whenever Sasuke sees something that's interesting to (only) him as a child he rushes to Itachi to share it. Itachi is his go-to person whenever he wants to share something. Itachi sometimes lets Sasuke's excitement slide because he's too busy/too tired, and little Sasuke is infuriated. He expresses his fury in form of stomping his feet, walking around the house with a pout. He keeps yelling in front of Itachi's room that no one loves him and genuinely looks sad. No one understands why Sasuke is acting so weird until Itachi picks on it and gives Sasuke some treat. It's super easy to please him.

Itachi is a bad cook. Sasuke is even worse. That's why whenever their parents aren't home, Itachi cooks and Sasuke waits instead of helping him. One time when Sasuke "helped", it almost invited disaster. Itachi swore to never let Sasuke in since then. Sasuke is super salty because what he did at 12 shouldn't be held against him, right? Itachi won't listen. Their parents have no idea about it. So, whenever Itachi cooks something in his millionth attempt, certain that he made the dish perfect, Sasuke always shoots him down with "I've had better". Though later at night he sneaks into the kitchen to finish the rest, because why not.

Sasuke likes to hang out with Madara, but he's always been scared of the old man. Sasuke says he looks good only when he's not speaking or smiling. He always hides behind Itachi whenever Madara is visiting them. Itachi often uses it against Sasuke when he won't let him finish his work. "Go to sleep, Sasuke, or Madara uncle will come." It's an inside joke and Madara is definitely not pleased because he loves kids. He doesn't want to be the bad guy in Sasuke's eyes.

Both the brothers love to go on long cycle rides, especially in summers.

Naruto and Sasuke have a lot of sleepovers. Whenever Sasuke has to go to Naruto's house, Itachi drops him there. And when Naruto has to come to Sasuke's house, they want Itachi to tell them horror stories. Not overly keen on scaring them both, he tries to evade, but Naruto wouldn't listen. To set the mood, all the lights are kept off, and as soon as Itachi starts, Naruto hides himself in covers, and Sasuke rolls his eyes. Although later at night neither Naruto nor Sasuke want to go out alone to pee. Sasuke is just as scared as Naruto. He just doesn't want to show.

Minato and Kushina love both the brothers. Because of them their families are super close as well. Occasionally, Minato would take all the three kids to some other city/fun place, and come home super exhausted, because Naruto and Sasuke are a menace.

When they're kids, and Mikoto and Fugaku have to leave for a few hours, Kakashi and Yamato have to babysit them. Kakashi hates it because he'd rather be reading his books, but Yamato loves spending time with them. He loves to spoil both the kids. Sasuke just ends up pulling Yamato's hair and also tries to pull Kakashi's mask. But he can't.

Itachi has a Danzo plushie, decorated with red marks and is beaten down badly as if Itachi likes to punch it every time he's mad. Mikoto is horrified because since when her sweet child become this violent. Fugaku gives Itachi a treat when he learns this. Sasuke just likes to pull Danzo plushie's ears because they're fun to him.

Sasuke hates Shisui and Izumi at home. They steal the time he can spend with his nii-san. But when Itachi is not home, Shisui takes Sasuke with him and they train and Shisui deliberately loses his matches. Sasuke tells everything to Itachi with glee that he defeated Shisui when they trained together. Sasuke grudgingly admits to himself only that he likes spending time with Shisui too, but he won't ever feed Shisui's ego, because his nii-san is still the best.

Kisame is another person Sasuke is scared of. But he gets to like him. If anything, if ever Sasuke is mad at his brother, Kisame sides with Sasuke, and tells his brother how terrible of a big brother Itachi is. One day, Sasuke spent exactly 30 minutes complaining about Itachi to Kisame. And obviously, Kisame lectured Itachi that evening.

Being Itachi's little brother, Sasuke is the unofficial member of the Akatsuki. He has his own tiny Akatsuki robe. He doesn't understand why he doesn't get "dangerous" missions like his brother does. They tell him he's the most important person in the Akatsuki, so he must get special treatment. They keep all the gory shit out of his knowledge.

Sasuke really, really dislikes Kakuzu. He also finds Hidan weird. He wants to protect his brother from Deidara because Deidara just seems like he's obsessed with his brother. Itachi must be protected from him.

The people Sasuke loves in the Akatsuki after his brother are Konan and Sasori. Sasori makes puppets/toys for him (without all the blood and stuff) and gifts them to Sasuke. Konan is like a mom to him. In Itachi's absence she takes care of Sasuke.

[geotjwrs]

Can I request a platonic Jenna x male reader where r is a writer and like one of his screenplays like gets picked up and Jenna stars in it and they both realise each other are incvled in project and just a sweet look into their friendship?

invisible string

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

Y/N had always dreamt of becoming a screenwriter. From the days spent scribbling stories in his worn-out notebooks to the nights staying up late typing away on his laptop, he poured his heart and soul into every word. It was his passion, his escape, and now, finally, it seemed to be paying off. One of his screenplays had been picked up by a major production company. The excitement was overwhelming, but nothing prepared him for the shock of finding out who would be starring in his film: Jenna Ortega.

Jenna and Y/N had met a few years back at a film festival. They had hit it off immediately, bonding over their mutual love for cinema and storytelling. Despite their busy schedules, they had kept in touch, exchanging messages and occasionally catching up over coffee whenever they found themselves in the same city. Their friendship was a comforting constant in Y/N's ever-changing life.

When Y/N received the news, he couldn't believe his luck. He was both thrilled and nervous about the project, especially with Jenna being involved. He knew how talented she was, and having her bring his words to life was an incredible honor.

The first day on set was a whirlwind of activity. Crew members buzzed around, setting up equipment, adjusting lighting, and preparing for the day's shoot. Y/N arrived early, wanting to soak in every moment of this experience. As he walked onto the set, he spotted Jenna talking to the director. She looked radiant, her enthusiasm contagious as she animatedly discussed her character.

"Y/N!" Jenna called out, her face lighting up with a bright smile as she saw him.

"Jenna!" Y/N replied, grinning as he walked over to her.

They hugged tightly, both of them laughing with excitement. "I can't believe you're here!" Jenna exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "When they told me about the project, I had no idea it was your screenplay. This is amazing!"

"I know, right? It's like a dream come true," Y/N said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't wait to see you bring the character to life."

"Well, I promise to do your words justice," Jenna said, her tone sincere. "Your script is incredible, Y/N. It's one of the best I've read in a long time."

"Thank you, Jenna. That means a lot coming from you," Y/N replied, feeling a warm sense of pride.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N spent a lot of time on set, observing and learning. He was amazed at how Jenna immersed herself in her role, bringing depth and nuance to the character he had created. They often found themselves discussing scenes, bouncing ideas off each other, and refining the dialogue.

Their friendship deepened during this time, built on mutual respect and admiration. They shared countless moments of laughter, inside jokes, and even some late-night brainstorming sessions when inspiration struck. Jenna's dedication and talent inspired Y/N, and he felt grateful to have her as both a friend and a collaborator.

One evening, after a long day of shooting, Y/N and Jenna found themselves sitting on the steps of her trailer, sipping coffee and enjoying the cool breeze. The set was quiet, most of the crew having left for the day.

"You know," Jenna said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I'm really proud of you, Y/N. You've come a long way since we first met."

Y/N smiled, looking down at his coffee cup. "Thanks, Jenna. I couldn't have done it without your support."

Jenna nudged him playfully. "Don't sell yourself short. You've got talent, and you work hard. You deserve all the success that's coming your way."

"Well, it helps to have amazing friends like you," Y/N said, meeting her gaze.

They sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company and the sense of accomplishment that came with seeing their hard work come to fruition.

As the filming progressed, Y/N and Jenna continued to support each other, both on and off set. They celebrated the small victories, like nailing a difficult scene or receiving positive feedback from the director. They also leaned on each other during the tough times, offering encouragement and reassurance.

One particularly challenging day, when everything seemed to be going wrong, Jenna found Y/N sitting alone in a quiet corner of the set, looking stressed.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting down next to him. "You okay?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just feeling overwhelmed, I guess. It's a lot of pressure."

Jenna put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know it's tough, but you're doing an amazing job. Remember why you started this journey. Your passion and talent brought you here, and you've got a whole team behind you."

Y/N looked at her, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Thanks, Jenna. I needed that."

"Anytime," she replied with a warm smile. "We're in this together, remember?"

As the final days of shooting approached, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. The cast and crew had become like a family, and it was hard to believe that their time together was coming to an end. On the last day of filming, emotions ran high as they wrapped up the final scene.

After the director called "Cut!" for the last time, there was a moment of silence before the set erupted into cheers and applause. Y/N felt a mix of relief, pride, and sadness as he looked around at the people who had brought his vision to life.

Jenna made her way over to him, her eyes shining with tears. "We did it," she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Yeah, we did," Y/N replied, his voice choked with emotion.

As they stood there, surrounded by their friends and colleagues, Y/N realized how much this experience had meant to him. Not just because of the success of his screenplay, but because of the incredible journey he had shared with Jenna. Their friendship had been a source of strength and inspiration, and he knew it would continue to be, no matter where their careers took them next.

In the weeks that followed, Y/N and Jenna kept in touch, their bond stronger than ever. They celebrated the film's success together, attending premieres and interviews, always supporting each other. Despite their busy schedules, they made time for their friendship, knowing how important it was.

One evening, as they sat on a rooftop terrace, looking out over the city lights, Jenna turned to Y/N with a thoughtful expression. "You know, this is just the beginning for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "And I can't wait to see you in your next role. You're going to keep amazing audiences, Jenna."

They clinked their glasses, toasting to the future and to their enduring friendship. As they sat there, talking and laughing, he would always have Jenna by his side.

And that, he realized, was the greatest gift of all.

[linkspooky]

What in particular inspired you to write Burn This City, Burn This City Down? It's a very unique fic.

Oh man I hope you're ready to take my hand and go on a journey with me because this is going to be long ride.

The first version of this fic came from 1) the ending of the Search where Azula runs off into the woods and we were just left on that cliffhanger for years. The first story that ever gave me the inspiration though was Katanagatari by Nisioisin, especially after I read the translated light novel for the first time.

Katanagatari is a story of a former princess who wants revenge teaming up with a human who was raised as a weapon known as Yasuri Shichika who comes from an entire family of martial artists living on an island. She takes Shichika out to the world and they gather twelve magical swords for the shogunate government. Basically, it's easy to see how you could put Azula into this scenario. Except instead of swords it was just going to be Azula wanting to resolve different political issues or, my earliest idea was killing members of the red lotus in the colonies far from Zuko's jurisdiction.

Lio came from this initial idea and he was one, a person in the forest that Azula met, and two a very strong martial artist who is unhealthily devoted to her. Basically it's what Azula thinks she wants in a relationship, a perfect solider who follows her every order and is unconditionally loyal. That relationship eventualyl breaks apart though as Azula eventually has to go back to her real friends, because Lio mirrors like all her bad flaws at her.

I had serious trouble coming up with an overarching plot though, because Katanagatari's plot is just "go to the place, fight the guy, get the sword" and it was just hard to come up with 12 seperate guys for Azula to fight. Also it wasn't feasible because she'd basically spend all her time away from canon characters. I tried to throw Jet in too so it wouldn't just be Azula and this OC, but it never really got past the planning stages.

There were a few manga I read that were also Azula adjacent that helped further my ideas along. I've referenced Akatsuki no Yona before, and TGCF too, but those were a little bit too much like Katanagari. I liked the idea of like Azula roaming the country side with a partner character improving things by herself for awhile like Yona does with Akatsuki no Yona but I ran into the same problem again it would be 90% Azula and this oc with no canon interaction. I did like making Hua Cheng really weird though, and that became Lio like, developing entitled, posessive and borderline stalkery behaviors.

I'm sure you've noticed the fic hasn't become incredibly surreal and weird yet. So the actual tone and the way the fic portrays mental illness comes from three works in praticular. Tokyo Ghoul, which is kind of where I got my start on this blog, Kara no Kyoukai, and Tsukihime. The idea to make Lio a disassoicative disorder personality so Azula would have someone to sympathize with her and understand she's hallucinating came from a character named Shiki Ryougi who is also a character who has a system.

The prose style that is lowkey horror comes from my best attempts to write in a Nasu style in Tsukihime. Basically part of the reason the fanfic is so surreal is because I want to use elements of horror to add to the surrealism in order to make the audience viscerally fear the feel that characters like Azula do when they lose control over the reality in front of them.

When going in the forest for the Search I wanted to lean heavily on the Suicide Forest or the Forgetful Valley being an actually terrifying or unnerving setting to be in. I also thought the Mother of Faces was a cool idea for a spirit that the comics completely blew. So one of the improvements was making Mother of Faces a genuinely terrifying inhuman entity where the entire forest is basically her playground and humans are her puppets. It's a continued trend I want to do in this fic to make spirits like genuinely terrifying, and at the most indifferent to humans and at the worst extremely hostile.

The second was making the forest an actually scary and confusing place to be in. The forest is the head, and Azula is the head, and she's dreaming the forest. The forest is a metaphor for how Azula is lost inside her own head and trapped because no one in the world empathizes with her or tries to understand her, and like, Zuko sees her run into that huge forest twice and just watches her go even though she could end up dead in a ditch.

There's two big inspirations I took for describing the forest itself. The first was the book roadisde picnic and the movie STALKER which are about a zone in Russia which is fundamentally altered by aliens where nothing in that zone follows the laws of physics and instead follows their own abusrd laws. The second was from the book and movie annihilation. In annihilation the strange zone where strange things happen is nature actively like, retaking the earth, and changing the humans who enter that territory into something else.

As for Azula's narration itself and the way her mental health is depicted, I basically got her narration style down especially in her trippy points by reading Girl, Interrupted roughly one hundred times. My general rule of thumb is that Azula's narration is incredibly dry and mechanical and straight to the point, and her prose is very minimialist until it's not. Azula is very high functionning until she is not. Then the self-loathing, and the paranoia, and the voices begin to creep in. Yet on the surface Azula will do absolutely everything to pretend she is not loosing her grip of things until she has, full on meltdowns. This pattern continues ad infinituum, Azula just gets better at hiding her sympatoms and appearing more functional. Girl, interrupted though with the very detached kind of narration, the anachronistic order I employ a lot in this fic.

So the fic rewrite existed for awhile, like there were ten different drafts of the first chapter where Azula just finds a masked man in the woods after running away from Zuko.

So, okay I lied there is one more inspiration for the way I write Azula which is Zaregoto by Nisioisin and specifically the way he writes the main character IIchan and this very detached narrator voice who like, clearly suffers from some type of schizo-type and will have the most surreal moments of narration. That is primarily a mystery series so that's what gave me the plot in it's final form. It's basically like a mystery series that's led by two unreliable narrators Azula and Lio, and Zuko who let's be honest another unreliable narrator, and then Katara and Aang who are the most reliable narrators but they're also kind of like, they're not as aware of the dark side of the world and are more naive. I basically told myself like, I'll write it like a mystery novel. Instead of solving murders though it'll be political intrigue, where we have to follow two unreliable narrators. Two unreliable narrators who we don't know everything about bevcause the narration skips along their history in anancronistic order, and that'll be a metaphor for the weird way that Azula and Lio both experience reality because of how disordered their thinking is now.

The surraelist stuff started to finalize into like a solid plot when I read another fic. I don't know if I should like, mention this fic. I'm going to complain about it so I probably shouldn't mention it by name. Okay I'm just going to be vague about it. There was a Zuko / Sokka fanfic where Azula has been fully redeemed by her brother and they get along great and she is basically, playing political games in the court for her brother's sake. Sokka however doesn't know this and becomes suspicious of her and becomes embroiled in the politics too. In this version Azula is kind of just Zuko's attack dog which was very funny.

It's a fic where I did like Azula and Sokka's characterization, and like revitalized my desire to write avatar fic but I also had just as many faults in it. Basically my biggest nitpick in any Zuko and Azula fanfic is where they protray Zuko as a compassionate brother who helped Azula in her rehabilitation because like, that's just not what happened. So Zuko kind of just felt like a non character because there's no acknowledgment that Zuko can really be just as bad to Azula as Azula is to him and like... I need that drama in my life.

It also like timeskipped past her entire recovery and like I don't want sane Azula, I want barely functional Azula wearing a mask of sanity and convinced she peaked at fourteen and just trying to feel like the way she did when she was fourteen. I need her to be like "oh yes, I'm fixed now" and then have her start to break down again because she never actually learned to deal with stress.

The other was that the ocs in the fic were absolutely boring, like the villains were one note. It was this grand spiraling political plot but the villains behind the plot had no human motivations and Azula killed them in like five minutes. I was like no, no I can make my own ocs. I will have this new fic have actual compelling antagonists who feel like they are characters in the story and actually move the plot and challenge the main characters.

So to Summarize this long ramble, basically my idea for this fic came from the collective works of Nasu and Nisioisin. It started out as like, a journey through the colonies and help people fic to like, taking place entirely in Caldera City. That's where the current idea of Azula dealing with factions who are trying to take her brother's thrown from her, and also she's trying to play the political game that everyone else is playing comes from. Azula is playing political games but like, also, the people she's playing against aren't one note bad guys they're actually interesting characters.

I also want to basically adapt a kind of like, mystery novel character following the mystery through all the political intrigue and finding the answer. I guess you'd call that "Noir". Like the confusing surrealism stuff in the search part of the story shows how lost Azula is in the forest. The confusing surrealism stuff in Caldera City will now be about how Caldera city is a city of liars, where everyone has their own hidden motivation and Azula has to navigate all of that again.

Okay, I hope that answered your qusetion. I can cite some more sources on scenes that inspired me. That scene where Lio saw Azula and the first thing he thought about was how he wanted to stab her a whole bunch is a reference to Tsukihime where Shiki meets Arcueid for the first time.

The story for Azula, Interupted of someone else framing Azula for killing cats and turtleducks comes from a really brief flashback in Tokyo Ghoul where Mutsuki remembers killing cats as a child and gets made fun of for it. Then she remembers running all the way to where she buried all the cat's tongues, and picks the jar up and cries and begs for the cats to forgive her. I know that's kind of a weird scene, but basically that whole chapter came from my idea of Azula remembering getting slapped by her mom for killing the turtleducks and begging someone to believe her and then it suddenly flashes forward to the future and Azula is still crying about it.

That's all I can remember referencing or getting inspired by for now.

[anyasathenaeum]

Elysium (Dad!Vash fic) - Chapter 1

A/N: Hi everybody! So, I felt kinda beat up after Tumblr wiped my requests, but then I randomly got inspiration to write a Dad!Vash fic. This is going to have multiple chapters (no idea how many yet), but I'll be writing it as I can. I've cross-posted it to AO3 here.

Story Summary: Vash the Stampede remains in hiding after the disaster of Julai city. In the year since the disaster, you and Vash have had children and are living a quiet life in town, until one day, the arrival of bandits threatens to rip away the life you and Vash have built together. What will Vash give to protect his family?

Warnings: Reader is AFAB in this work, referred to using she/her pronouns and "Mama" by the kids, explicit mentions of pregnancy, childbirth, and violence

Chapter Wordcount: 5.8k

Chapter 1: On The Horizon

"Mama? Mama, wake up." 

A little voice called from the side of your bed, and you groggily registered the feeling of little hands tugging on yours as your eyes fluttered open.

All you could see were two pairs of identical blue eyes, both wide open as they gazed at you curiously and somewhat impatiently. As soon as you awoke, two sets of identical grins broke out on your children's' faces.

"Mmm? What is it, my loves?" You asked groggily, sitting up in bed with a big yawn as you rubbed your sleepiness from your eyes. It couldn't have been later than 6 or 7 in the morning, but your twin children had always been early risers, much like their father.

"We brought you something!"

You watched as the boy, Nicholas, and his sister, Rem, came into your room with a tray they were holding. On it was a plate of food, as well as a cup of water and some beautiful flowers.

"Oh? Did you two make me breakfast in bed?" You asked, your heart warming at the sight of your babies doing this for you, "Thank you, my loves! I love it."

You took the tray from your children and placed it beside you on the bed before leaning over and enveloping both children into your arms, hugging them close and kissing their heads, causing them both to giggle happily as they hugged you back.

"Love you, mama!" Nicholas chimed happily, with Rem nodding her head in agreement and echoing her brother's sentiment, "Yes, mama, we love you!"

You chuckled happily as you hugged your children close, feeling their small bodies against your own. As you glanced up at the doorway, you felt your heart flutter at the sight of your husband smiling at you and your children.

Vash couldn't help but feel his heart swelling in his chest as he watched his children, your children, hugging you and giggling happily as you held them close in your and his shared bed, his smile only growing as he watched the scene before him.

In the past, Vash never would've dared to let himself hope that he'd ever experience happiness like this. He never would've let himself dream that he would have a family, have children and a spouse that he loved more than anything in his life. And yet, against all his expectations, against all his beliefs, happiness fell into his lap the day the two of you realized you were expecting.

You had found Vash shortly after the disaster at Julai city, when the entire city was turned into a crater in the ground and 90% of the population had been wiped out when Vash fell from the sky. Vash had been a broken man, unable to even speak from the grief and the shock of what had happened when you found him. His memories surrounding the incident were muddy at best, but eventually, they returned to him and Vash slowly began to work through what had happened.

During that time, a kind woman by the name of Sheryl and her only living grandchild, Lina, had taken you both in and gave you refuge as you and Vash recovered from the Julai incident, with Vash taking on the name "Eriks" as you both hid from the world. Many nights were spent with you comforting Vash as he wept from nightmares that plagued him constantly, or Vash holding you close and protecting you as memories tried to pull you into their dark depths.

Those nights together brought you and Vash closer together than ever before - the two of you had always been fast and good friends, but this... being each other's anchor when one was caught in a storm of grief and sadness and anger... it brought you two together in a way neither of you had anticipated.

You two had both chosen to silently let whatever bond the two of you had develop and become whatever it was going to become. However, after one particularly bad nightmare where Vash had dreamt of losing you and woken up crying, only to find you looking at him worriedly and with such warmth and tenderness behind your eyes, Vash couldn't help but blurt out those three words.

"I love you."

Vash had fully been crying as he said those words to you breathlessly, as if desperate to get them out into the real world, desperate for you to understand how much you meant to him. He had clutched you desperately to him, his face buried in your hair as he took in your comforting, familiar scent between sobs, mumbling over and over again.

"I love you. I love you, (Y/N), I love you. You're everything to me. P-Please... don't go."

Your heart had broken for him that night, before being set alight when you realized what Vash had said to you. He loved you. You wanted to scream with joy, but instead, all you could do was pull the man you loved so much closer to you, burying your face into him as you held him tighter than ever before as he cried against you.

"I love you, too, Vash. So, so much."

After that night, you and Vash were inseparable, and it was clear to anybody who saw you and Vash together that the two of you were in love and nobody would ever come between you. Grandma Sheryl and Lina had been kind in helping you both find a home to call your own in the town. A beaten-up, neglected old house on the outskirts of the town that desperately needed some love and care eventually became your new home, a home where neither you nor Vash needed to hide.

One day, out of the blue, you had suddenly realized your body was changing. When Vash had placed his hands on you, your belly had begun to glow with faint plant runes, much like the markings on Vash's body whenever he tapped into his Plant abilities and powers. As you looked at him curiously, you watched Vash's eyes widen and his jaw drop open.

"(Y/N)... you're pregnant."

"Woah, woah, woah, what do you mean "pregnant"?" You replied immediately, frowning at him. "That's not possible... is it?"

Vash looked down at you and replied softly, his eyes trained on your stomach, "It's possible. Just... extremely rare."

Your mind had began to spiral as your hand pressed to your belly protectively, as if to shield the life that was growing within it from the world.

"I'm pregnant," You repeated, clearly stunned, your hand beginning to mindlessly rubbing circles over your belly, tracing the plant markings that announced your pregnancy.

You and Vash had to sit down and discuss how everything was going to change now that you were pregnant, and at the end of that conversation, Vash had taken your hand in his and stood up before guiding you towards town.

"Vash? Where are we going?" You had inquired, gazing at him as he continued walking ahead of you, almost as if in a hurry.

He didn't answer you, instead just borderline dragging you through town until he stopped suddenly before an unassuming building. You had raised an eyebrow at him, clearly asking for an explanation.

"Marry me."

You blinked.

"What?"

Vash had grinned at you, his smile warmer than anything you'd ever seen from him before.

"Marry me, (Y/N). You're pregnant with my child, and I want you to be assured that no matter what happens, I'll always be there to love you and our child and protect you both for as long as I live."

You continued to stare at him as if he had grown a second head, failing to take in exactly what Vash had asked of you. Once it sunk in, your eyes widened and you had begun to splutter.

"B-But, Vash, what if you have to go on the run again? I can't be the reason you're held back! That's not fair to you."

Vash had stepped forward and pulled you to him, his large hand splaying over your abdomen protectively yet incredibly tenderly. His voice was low and gentle.

"(Y/N)... I don't care. You and this child are my family, now. And I swear to always protect my family. I love you both so much, and I refuse to let any harm come to either of you. I'll be damned if I leave you and my child unprotected. The best way for me to ensure your safety is by staying by your side. Forever."

You felt yourself moved to tears as you looked at Vash, who was simply smiling down at you with such love that it made your heart flutter in your chest. You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him with everything in you, trying to show him just how much you loved him through your actions.

"Okay," You whispered softly once the two of you had broken apart, "I'll marry you."

Without another word and grinning like he had just won the greatest prize on the planet, Vash took your hand in his much larger one and guided you into the building, where the two of you signed a marriage license and exchanged vows and rings to symbolize your commitment to each other.

After that day, you and Vash prepared for the arrival of your child. You had managed to create a nursery, crib and all, and awaited nervously for the day your child would arrive.

Your pregnancy advanced more rapidly than that of a regular human, given your baby was half-human, half-plant, and you found yourself struggling to carry the baby as your pregnancy progressed. Your body had to adjust more rapidly than anticipated, and Vash was terrified for your safety as time went on. He refused to let you do anything that potentially risked your safety or the baby's, constantly stepping in and taking over whatever task you were trying to accomplish.

"(Y/N), be careful," Vash would admonish you gently, "Don't want anything to happen to you or the little one."

It got to the point where Vash would've wrapped you in bubble wrap if he could've, and it drove you gently insane.

"I swear, Vash, if you don't let me do this, I'm going to scream."

Eventually, your waters broke about 4 1/2 months into your pregnancy and you had rushed to the medical clinic in the town. With several hours of screaming various profanities, pushing, and nearly breaking every bone in Vash's hand, you had managed to bring your baby boy into the world.

"Nicholas," You had uttered the moment you saw your little boy, panting heavily as the nurses took him away to get him cleaned up and swaddled.

"Nicholas?" Vash asked gently, clearly fighting off tears as he gazed at the little blue bundle in the nurse's arms. "After Wolfwood?"

"Yeah..." You replied, gazing at Vash with a warm smile as he held your son, "I think it fits."

"I-It does," Vash choked out, tears beginning to pour down his face as he held little Nicholas close and nuzzled the little baby's cheek with the tip of his finger, "Our little boy. Our Nicholas."

Vash looked over at you as he began to weep completely, "Oh, (Y/N)... thank you. Thank you for giving me him. Thank you for giving me my family. I love you so much. You two are everything to me."

You had smiled and opened your mouth to reply when another crippling contraction ripped through you, tearing a scream from you. Vash jumped and immediately came over, reaching out to you, fear evident on his face.

"Mayfly?! What's wrong?!"

You couldn't even answer him, groaning and crying out in pain as contraction after contraction wracked your body, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life. The doctor and nurses came sprinting in, and after a minute or two of careful assessment, the doctor promptly announced.

"There is another baby, it's coming now."

"Another?!" You shrieked, looking at the doctor and then at Vash, who looked positively stunned, his mouth open and his eyes owlishly wide.

"Yes," The doctor confirmed, "It seems you were carrying twins. The second baby is coming now."

Thankfully, this baby came quicker than its older sibling, and within a couple pushes, another little wailing sound filled the air as your daughter announced her arrival into the world.

You were completely exhausted, unable to even keep your eyes open as the nurses brought your daughter back, cleaned and swaddled to rest on your chest. As your energy slowly returned, you managed to open your eyes and look at your daughter for the first time.

Both she and Nicholas had wisps of Vash's blonde hair, and the same big blue eyes he had. They even had matching birthmarks under their right eyes, complimenting the one Vash had beneath his left eye. Near carbon copies of their father.

"(Y/N)..."

You glanced over at Vash and you could see him sobbing almost hysterically from joy as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

"Mayfly... oh, Mayfly... they're perfect. They're perfect. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vash sat by your side and held you and your children close. The little girl yawned on your chest before dozing off promptly, much like her twin brother was sleeping happily in Vash's arms.

"What should we name you, little one?" You whispered gently, caressing your daughter's soft cheek with your fingertip.

You and Vash sat there quietly, just gazing down at your newborn babies, reveling in how things had forever been changed when Vash suddenly whispered.

"What about "Rem"?"

""Rem"? Like your adoptive mother?" You asked softly as you gazed at your daughter.

Vash nodded, wiping away his tears gently, "Yeah... is that okay?"

"I think it's perfect," You answered softly, reaching out to hold your husband's hand gently, squeezing it as you spoke.

"Nicholas and Rem," Vash repeated back, gazing down at the little bundled blankets in his and your arms.

He gave a watery smile as he looked back up at you, tears silently streaking down his face.

"My family, (Y/N). Our family."

Vash let out a shaky laugh before continuing, "I never thought I could ever be this happy. I feel like I swallowed a box of fireworks. I love you, (Y/N). I love you more than anything, and I... I love them. Little Nicholas... little Rem... I love them. Do they know just how much happiness they bring with them? Do they know I'd do anything to protect them?"

You couldn't help but laugh a little, your own tears going down your cheeks as you kissed Vash's cheek.

"I'm sure they'll know as they get older. I love you, Vash. I love our family, and I'll do anything to protect you, to protect them, too."

Vash slowly scooted into your hospital bed, sitting next to you and holding you close as he continued to hold Nicholas and as you continued to hold Rem. This was your family, now.

Rem and Nicholas proceeded to grow up pretty quickly due to their being half-human, half-plant, and within a year, they were already the equivalent of a human 4 year-old, able to walk and talk and tell stories and do things, like making you breakfast in bed with some help from their father.

"Thank you, my love, for making sure they didn't burn down the kitchen."

Your voice snapped Vash from his revelry as he stood in the doorway, and he looked up to see you smiling lovingly at him from your shared bed, your breakfast tray next to you and your children still hugging you tightly.

"Oh, my pleasure, Mayfly," Vash chuckled as he walked in and hugged you and the children, all of you giggling and laughing together. A moment of complete and utter happiness.

"Now, what should we do today?" You asked playfully, pressing a kiss to the top of both Rem and Nicholas's heads, before glancing up at Vash with a warm smile.

"How abouuuut...." Vash drawled playfully, before snagging Rem and Nicholas under their arms and pulling them into him as they squealed and laughed happily, "We all go see Grandma Sheryl and big sister Lina?"

"Yes!" Nicholas cried happily, clapping his little hands together, "Grandma Sheryl! Big sis Lina!"

"I wanna go!" Rem cried out, echoing her brother's sentiment as she tugged on Vash's shirt, looking up at him with the same big blue eyes he possessed.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of your family, and you exclaimed, "Alright, then! We'll do a field trip to Grandma Sheryl's and big sis Lina's! Papa's gonna go call Grandma Sheryl to let her know we're coming, but why don't you two come tell me what you made me for breakfast?"

Nicholas and Rem beelined right back to you, quickly crawling onto the bed and pointing at the different things they had made you for breakfast as Vash headed downstairs to call Grandma Sheryl.

"I made the eggs!" Rem said, a proud smile on her face.

"I made the pancakes!" Nicholas chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, Papa made the pancakes!"

"No, I did!"

"No, you didn't!"

You couldn't help but laugh and pull the twins into you, hugging them close to stop their bickering, "Now, now, fighting won't get either of you anywhere. You both worked very hard to make me breakfast, so thank you, my loves. I love you both very, very much."

"Love you too, mama," Nicholas replied, burying his face into your tummy, as Rem snuggled into your side with a mumble of "Love you, mama."

You sat there as you slowly ate your breakfast, chuckling as the twins took pieces of food themselves from your breakfast tray ("Just to try, mama!" Rem assured you as she put a piece of pancake in her mouth).

Once you were done, you sent the kids to get dressed and ready to go see Grandma Sheryl while you took the time to shower and get ready for the day yourself. As you came out of the bathroom, you were greeted by the sight of Vash sitting on your shared bed, a frown on his face. He seemed lost in thought.

"You alright, Vash?" You asked softly, coming over to stand in front of him.

Vash quickly snapped out of his thoughts as he glanced up up at you, a small smile appearing on his lips as his hands came up to grab your hips before tugging you closer to him.

"Nothing, Mayfly. Just..." Vash trailed off, clearly trying to find a way to explain whatever was bothering him.

"It's okay, Vash," You encouraged him, cupping his face in your hands and making him look at you, "What's wrong?"

Vash sighed heavily before saying softly, "Grandma Sheryl says bandits have been wreaking havoc in town over the past couple days. Sounds like they've been behind all kind of trouble. I don't think we should still go see her. I don't want to risk your safety, or Rem's or Nicholas's. I don't want anything happening to you."

You frowned as you heard this, and you thought to yourself for a few moments before speaking up, "Well... why don't you and I go into town first and see how bad it is? If it's truly dangerous, we come straight back and spend the day home, instead. If it's okay, then we can bring the kids along and go see Sheryl."

Vash just gazed at you, carefully taking in your words and your expression before exhaling softly, "That might be the safest approach. Although, I don't think you should come either."

"Why not?" You asked, looking at Vash with a frown on your face.

"Because I don't want you in any danger, (Y/N)," Vash answered simply, pulling you into his lap and hugging you close to him, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, "And I don't want to leave the children home alone if bandits are in the area."

You sighed as you felt Vash press a soft kiss to your neck, and you knew he was right - if bandits were nearby, causing havoc in town, it was best not to leave Rem and Nicholas alone, unprotected.

"Alright..." You conceded, looking down at your husband, "I'll stay here with the kids. But, you need to be careful, Eriks. Promise me you'll come right back here."

You shot him a look as you used his fake name. He was never "Vash the Stampede" anywhere except within the four walls of your home; instead, he was "Eriks Saverem".

You had originally thought him using his adoptive mother's last name wasn't the best idea, but Vash argued that he needed a last name and Rem's last name was as good as any, given she was his mother in every way that mattered.

"Besides, who else would recognize that last name?" Vash had asked, a small smile on his face as he remembered his adoptive mother.

"Your brother, all the individuals who work for your brother, Brad and Luida..." You had listed off, counting them off on your fingers, which caused Vash to whine.

"(Y/NNNNNN)..."

"Alright, alright," You had conceded in the end, sighing with a roll of your eyes, "But don't come crying to me if you have to go on the run again."

In the present, you pressed a soft kiss to Vash's lips before you stood from his lap, patting his back gently.

"Be safe out there, my love," You whispered gently, "Come home to us. Come home to me."

"Always, Mayfly," Vash replied with a warm smile, "I will always come home to you. I swear it on my life."

"Good," You retorted, "I'll be keeping you to your promise."

"I'd expect no less."

Vash grinned at you, before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your wedding ring - a way of sealing his promise to you.

"I love you, Stampede," You whispered to him, reaching out and brushing a strand of his now-long blonde hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear tenderly.

"And I love you, (Y/N)," Vash replied softly, catching your other hand in his and kissing your palm tenderly in return.

"Alright, off with you," You chuckled, stepping away from your husband and turning to head downstairs, "That way you can be back sooner."

All you could hear was Vash chuckling as you went downstairs, finding Rem and Nicholas playing in the living room of your small home. When you appeared, both of them looked up at you and smiled.

"What is it, Mama?" Rem asked suddenly, cocking her small head to the side as she studied you intently, almost exactly the way her father did.

You quickly forced a smile as you came over to where your children were sitting, joining them on the carpet.

"Well," You began softly, "Apparently, it's a bit hard for us to go see Grandma Sheryl and big sis Lina right now. Papa's gonna go take a look and see if we can still go."

Nicholas and Rem exchanged looks, and Nicholas now piped up, "Hard, mama?"

"Yes, my love," You answered, continuing to explain, "There are some bad guys in town, and neither Papa nor I want anything to happen to you two."

"Bad guys?" Rem asked, her eyes filling with a bit of fear. "Are they gonna hurt us?"

"No, my love," You replied immediately, "Papa and I will protect you two, we won't let anything or anybody hurt you. I promise."

Rem quickly scrambled over and hugged you tightly, and you could feel your daughter trembling in your embrace. You quickly held her close, stroking her hair gently.

"Mama's got you," You whispered to her gently, "And Papa's got you, too. Always."

Nicholas slowly came over and joined the hug, and you held both of them close. Suddenly, you felt an additional set of warm, muscular arms wrap around you and the twin, and you heard Vash's voice speaking gently.

"Mama and Papa will always protect you two. Always, my loves."

Rem and Nicholas shifted slightly so that they could hug both you and Vash at the same time, and you all held your group hug for a few moments before Vash finally pulled away.

"Alright, Papa's gotta go on a little adventure," Vash said gently, patting the children's heads, "I'll be back soon. Promise me you'll protect each other and Mama if anything happens."

"We will!" Nicholas exclaimed immediately, standing up straight, "I'll protect Mama and Rem!"

"No, I'll protect Mama and Nicholas!" Rem retorted, nudging her brother.

Before the twins could get into another small spat, Vash laughed heartily and pulled them into another hug.

"That's my girl and boy! I'm relying on you both, okay? See you both soon. I love you two."

"Love you, Papa!" Rem and Nicholas chimed in unison, and you mouthed to Vash as he glanced at you, "I love you".

With a final kiss to the top of the twins' heads, and a gentle kiss to your lips (met by loud "EWWWW"s from the twins), Vash stepped out of the house and headed into town.

Grandma Sheryl's warning had proven to be true - as Vash walked through the town, he noticed multiple buildings that now had holes in the wall, windows that were shattered, and that the inside of these buildings were filled with debris and torn to shreds. Vash could see smoke coming from some other part of town, and a feeling of dread began to take root in his chest.

'Oh, Gods... should I tell (Y/N) to get the children ready to move? Should we run? Should we go somewhere else, to a different town?' Vash's thoughts began to go wild as he carefully treaded through town, keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble. 'What if (Y/N) gets hurt? What if one of the children get hurt? What if-?... No, Vash, no, don't go there.'

Vash was snapped out of his internal panic by a cry from not too far away, and as he looked up, Vash saw a couple bandits surrounding an older gentleman who was laying on the ground, curled up in the fetal position as he tried to protect himself from the blows of the bandits. Vash recognized the older gentleman as the town doctor, the same doctor who had helped you deliver Nicholas and Rem about a year ago, a kind man who many looked to as the town grandfather.

"Hey!" Vash immediately shouted, his body moving before he could make sense of the situation, "Leave him alone!"

Vash managed to intervene, getting the bandits away from the doctor and helping him to his feet. The poor doctor was bleeding from his face where he had no doubt been kicked or punched, and one of his eyes were turning black.

"If ya know what's good for ya, get outta here!" One of the bandits, likely the leader of this particular squad, sneered at Vash. The other bandits circled around their leader, no doubt waiting for a sign to go after Vash and the doctor.

"Sorry, but no," Vash replied coolly, gazing at the bandits and trying to ascertain how much of a threat they posed. "What reason could you possibly have to attack the town doctor?"

"Because he said something I didn't like," the bandit leader retorted snidely. The bandit leader squared himself and approached Vash, getting much too close to him for Vash's comfort.

"I'll say it one last time - if ya know what's good for ya, leave. Now. Or we won't hold back on ya."

The bandit leader's eyes blazed as he said this, poking Vash hard in the chest in an attempt to intimidate him into backing off. However, Vash just shook his head once more.

"Sorry, guys, but violence doesn't fly with me. I'd suggest you get out of here before things go badly for you," Vash replied, even going so far as to smile at the bandit leader.

This, however, incensed the bandit leader, and he immediately swung at Vash, who easily dodged his attack and moved fast enough to flip the bandit leader onto his back and slam him into the ground.

"Aww, come on, guys!" Vash exclaimed, "There's no need for fighting! Just leave the doctor alone, simple as that!"

The other bandits came at Vash, but not one of them managed to get close to him as Vash swiftly dodged and evaded their attacks and used their attacks against each other. Within moments, most of the bandits lay on the ground, moaning softly and stirring a bit as they tried to regain their bearings.

"Mr. Saverem, thank you so much!" The doctor cried, shaking Vash's hand enthusiastically, "Your assistance was greatly appreciated!"

Vash went to answer the doctor, but he noticed how the bandit leader was now gazing at him, a look of pure and utter hatred on his face. Vash felt his heart fall to his feet - this wasn't over yet.

"S-Saverem, eh?" The bandit leader wheezed out, slowly getting to his feet and shooting Vash a wicked grin, "Good to have a name for the man whose ass I have to kick."

Vash sighed tiredly, "Look, buddy, I'm not in the mood to fight you again. Can you please leave so I can get on with my life, as can the rest of the town? I'm pretty sure you guys got everything of worth from here, anyways."

"We'll see about that," the bandit leader replied coolly, grinning once more at Vash and the doctor before holding something up in his hand. Vash felt his heart twist violently in his chest as he realized what it was - a picture. The picture Vash always carried on him in his pocket.

Of you, Rem and Nicholas.

Where did he get that?!

"My, my, she's a beauty," The bandit leader mused, his eyes filled with fire as he traced your smiling face in the photo. Vash had never felt such a strong urge to burn a picture before as the bandit leader traced over your face and then the faces of the twins, "And look at them. They look just like you, Mr. Saverem. You're a lucky man."

Vash suppressed a shiver as the bandit leader said his name with emphasis, and the smirk that grew on the bandit's face made Vash want to sprint home and hide you and the twins away from the world, somewhere where nobody could ever hurt any of you.

"Although..." The bandit leader continued, still smirking at Vash as he spoke, "I wonder at what point your luck will run out."

Vash had to bite his tongue, instead desperately fighting to remain calm and seem unbothered by the bandit leader's faintly veiled threats towards himself, towards you and the children.

So, instead, Vash merely shrugged and answered as if he didn't understand the threat the bandit leader was making, "I'm not sure."

The bandit leader's evil smirk only grew bigger as he crumpled the picture in his fist and threw it down on the ground, "Guess we'll have to find out."

With that, the bandit leader turned on his heel and stormed off, his lackeys trailing behind him as best they could as they ran off from where Vash had fought them off.

"Mr. Saverem..." The doctor spoke quietly, looking mortified, "I-I'm so sorry, I- I didn't think-"

"Don't worry, doctor," Vash responded kindly, picking up the now-crumpled photo off the ground before helping the older gentleman stand up a bit straighter and guiding him over to a bench nearby, "I think that guy was gonna find my name out one way or the other."

"You need to get home, son," the doctor spoke softly, looking at Vash worriedly despite his own wounds, "He made a threat to your family. And there's plenty of bandits in town. God knows what they might try to do. You need to go home. Now."

Vash shook his head, the fear beginning to seep into his veins as he replied, "I can't just leave you here, though. What if they come back?"

"Somehow, I don't think they will," the doctor answered, the smallest smile appearing on his lips. "Now, go home. Go to your family."

With a final nod, Vash quickly took off towards your home, going from a walk to a jog until he was full on sprinting towards the house. His panic was beginning to overwhelm him as he sprinted back towards his home, where his family was hidden. Hopefully, you'd still be there, playing with Rem and Nicholas, none the wiser as to the threats made against you and your children because of Vash's actions.

'Please, please, please, let them be there. Let them be alright,' Vash pleaded in his mind, unsure of who he was pleading to as he sprinted home.

Right away, Vash felt a sense of relief when he saw your shared home. None of the windows had been smashed, the doors were all closed, and your home looked completely untouched. No sign whatsoever of any kind of break-in.

'Thank the Gods,' Vash breathed a deep sigh of relief as he raced up the steps and opened the door, coming into his house, fully prepared to pull you and the twins into a tight hug and not let go of any of you for quite some time.

"(Y/N)? Mayfly?" Vash called as soon as he entered the house, quickly looking around to try and spot you or the children.

However, nothing answered him except silence. The house was eerily quiet.

"Rem?! Nicholas?!" Vash called, his voice growing louder as he walked from room to room. There wasn't even the slightest sign of any disturbance having occurred in any of the rooms - everything was perfectly in place.

'Where are they? Did (Y/N) take the kids out somewhere?' Vash wondered, continuing to look around until he had searched the house from top to bottom for some sign of where you and the children might've gone.

As Vash came back downstairs, he was at a complete loss of where you all might've gone. The panic and fear from before began to reappear, taking root once more in Vash's stomach as his mind began to race.

Where could you have gone? Where were Rem and Nicholas? Were you alright? Were you alive?

Vash's mind swirled with so many questions that he nearly missed the piece of paper lying on the kitchen table, alongside something glinting in the bright sunlight - your wedding ring, next to a piece of a broken children's toy that both Rem and Nicholas had treasured.

As Vash picked up the note, staring at your ring and the broken toy, he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces before it began to thunder in his chest from fear and horror as he read the unfamiliar handwriting on the note.

"Your luck has run out. Check the abandoned school building."

[stellar-constellations]

An Alliance (Part 9)

        

        Fem! Spy! (Y/N) x Yuri Briar

        Parts: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, current part, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

        (Y/N) is given her own backstory that is important for the story!

        The setting for this story is based off West and East Germany's (because Spy x Family is heavily based off Germany in the 1940-1950) laws (or at least replicated to the best of my abilities since it's unknown what time period Spy x Family is exactly in, we'll go with 1950 for the sake of this story). 

        Historically-accurate women misogyny and mistreatment! Only small comments and historically-accurate laws (replicated to the best of my ability). 

        The story, plot, and settings might not match up to the Spy x Family manga as it's not completed and the manga is still being crafted.

        This series contains spoilers for the manga and anime!

        A couple weeks passed by and Yuri decided he wanted to visit Yor. Yuri's wound had healed up a little so I allowed it (by allowed, I mean I tried to restrain him and gave up since he was too strong and determined to see Yor).

        During those months I gathered some intel from the National Unity Party that I didn't know about until talking with Twilight about little details of his current mission (or doing a little bit of hacking into Eden Academy's files). I learned that WISE's top suspect is Donovan Desmond has two children I wasn't aware of, Damien and Demetrius Desmond, along with a wife, Melinda Desmond. A little trip to City Hall and snooping through some files and database there, I found out what they look like along with their private information such as their birthday and where they work.

        I wrote down everything I saw (even stuff I figured didn't matter) and placed it into a big white envelope with a false train logo imprinted on it, handing it to Franky when I saw him at the train station on the way back. How I did this without Yuri knowing? I got him drunk and made sure he was sleeping when I left. 

        But Vixen—the West Spy—doesn't matter right now. (Y/N)—Yuri Briar's wife and secret SSS agent—does.

        Yuri happily skipped to the Forger's apartment, barging in quite rudely as I trailed behind him, used to this routine by now.

        "Yay, my sweet sister! I came by for an early morning visit!" Yuri shouted.

        "I'm not satisfied with our life together!" Yor shouted at Twilight.

        Yuri's face morphed to horror (as did mine and Twilight's).

        Twilight and Yor are having relationship problems?! I thought to myself. This is really bad! Twilight's goal is to maintain a family to get closer to Donovan Desmond. If this is ruined, WISE will have to start all over again, and who knows how long it'd be until Donovan does something drastic that breaks this very thin ice Westalis and Ostania is on! We'll have another physical war!

        "LOID FORGER, YOU BASTARD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SISTER?!" Yuri screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at Twilight. 

        "Let's not get hasty! We haven't heard both sides of the story!" I smiled nervously, grabbing his shoulder.

        "Yuri? Didn't you get hit by a truck and hurt your shoulder not a little while ago? You should be resting!" Yor spoke, concerned.

        "That healed up right when I talked to you on the phone! More importantly..." Yuri spoke dully, then his tone changed as he got serious. "I warned you, Loid Forger, that if you ever made my sister cry, I would have you exe– er... I would be extremely upset." 

        "Yuri, no! It isn't like that!" Yor claimed.

        It's not?

        "So then what is it like, Yor?" Yuri questioned.

        "Um..." Yor stumbled, thinking.

        "Tell me so I can properly chastise this ne-er-do-well!" Yuri spoke, then looked as if an idea struck him. "If I can keep her angry at him, she'll finally dump him like I've wanted all along." Yuri muttered.

        "Um... you're thinking out loud." Me and Twilight spoke.

        "All right, Yor. Let's get you out of this marriage. We'll go file the divorce papers right now!" Yuri exclaimed.

        "Wait a second, Yuri! I'm sure this can be justified! Let's not get into something so big like that!" I spoke, worried for the future of Ostania and Westalis.

        "We're not getting divorced!" Yor claimed.

        "Yor, have you been holding on to this grievance all along...?" Twilight questioned, a million thoughts going through his calm blue eyes.

        "No, just since yesterday." Yor smiled ditzyily, causing Twilight to go wide-eyed.

        "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER YESTERDAY?!" Yuri shouting, pointing his finger at Twilight again.

        "He didn't do anything!" Yor exclaimed.

        THEN WHAT ARE YOU MAD AT HIM FOR?! I thought to myself, yet held my inner peace as I watched the scene play out.

        "Apologize. I don't know what you did, but you're going to apologize to my sister." Yuri spoke, his tone intimidating me despite me not being at the end of his words.

        "I am so deeply sorry, Yor. I never–" Twilight started, but was cut off by Yor.

        "Loid, no! An apology from you is the last thing I want!" Yor claimed, causing Twilight to have a mortified expression on his face as I saw the Ostanian military clean their guns, ready for their command to infiltrate and kill.

        "HOW DARE YOU ATTEMPT TO APOLOGIZE YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS, YOU FLIPPANT LOUSE!" Yuri screamed, still pointing his finger at Twilight.

        "I understand, Yor. You want me to show contriction through my actions. And I will! I swear to you, I won't ever make you suffer this way again!" Twilight spoke.

        "TH-THAT'S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!" Yor shouted.

        "HUH?!" Twilight and I exclaimed.

        I can hear the marching of Ostania's army. I can smell ashes from fire and gunpowder. 

        "Yuri, please, could you just stay out of this? This is a martial issue between me and my husband!" Yor scolded, directing her anger towards Yuri.

        "M-martial?!" Yuri exclaimed, a shocked and dejected expression on his face.

        Yuri depressingly made his way to the couch and flopped down, deflating like a ballon as he laid on the couch.

        Yor said this is a martial issue between her and Twilight, so I shouldn't get in the way too, I thought as I sat down next to the sulking Yuri. 

        The phone starting to ring and Yor quickly ran to go answer it.

        "Oh. I'll get it." Yor spoke. "Hello, this is Mrs. Forger." She answered, then redirected her attention to Twilight. "Loid, it's for you. It's from the hospital." 

        "Yes, hello?" Twilight spoke, answering the phone.

        Hospital? Oh, right! Twilight's cover job is a physiatrist for this mission!

        "I'm sorry. I've been called in for an emergency." Twilight stated, hanging up the phone.        

        "Oh dear, that sounds serious." Yor spoke, before it was like a switch was flipped in her as she started to shout. "EVEN ON YOUR DAYS OFF, YOU ABANDON YOUR FAMILY FOR WORK! HOW COULD YOU?! HOW COULD I EVER BE SATISFIED WITH THE WAY YOU ALWAYS PUT YOUR PATIENT'S FIRST?!" 

        "I'm sorry, Yor. We'll talk about this when I get back." Twilight stated calmly, sparing me a glance before walking out. "I really am sorry!" he exclaimed before walking out and shutting the door.

        Yor had a prideful smirk on her face as she looked at me and Yuri (Yuri seemed like he had a skeptical look on his face as he looked at the door Twilight just left).

        "Yor, I really don't mean to pry into your martial problems, but I really believe you need to think about this." I sighed.

        "Huh? But having gripes is a normal thing for marriages, right?" Yor questioned.

        "Of course, but you should understand his side too. You're claiming he spends too much time at work, correct?" I questioned, making sure I got the facts straight.

        "Yes, that is a normal gripe wives have against their husbands, right?" Yor spoke, genuinely seeming like she needed a gripe to appear normal.

        What's she need a gripe to appear normal for anyways? I thought to myself.

        "I hate to give unsolicited advice, but Loid works to provide for your family. I understand that you grieve the lack of time he spends with you and your daughter, but he's a physiatrist. He helps aid people's mental health to prevent something drastic happening. Life and death doesn't wait, that's just apart of this job. However, I do understand you. I believe it's a good idea to have a family outing soon, that way you're able to spend time with Loid and Anya!" I suggested. "That's just my idea though." 

        "I suppose, I could bring it up with Loid..." Yor mumbled.

        "I think it'd be fun for everyone! And don't worry, it's perfectly normal for couples to fight; I mean, me and Yuri fight quite regularly." I reassured. 

        "Yuri? You have gripes with (Y/N)?" Yor questioned, surprised.

        "Huh, yeah. Whatever you say, sis." Yuri spoke, his eyes not moving from the door.

        "Yes! Like this one right now." I smiled. "Yuri! You need to stop adding fuel to the fire! Yor was right! When a couple is arguing with each other, keep out of it! You could've actually did some serious damage to their relationship by bringing up divorce! We didn't even know what started the fight!" I shouted, grabbing Yuri by his shirt and forcing him to look me in the eyes and away from the door.

        "O-okay..." Yuri mumbled. "But something's fishy!" he spoke, redirecting his gaze to the door.

        "What?!" Yor exclaimed, seemingly worried.

        "The way he ran off in such a hurry just now... He's cheating on you, Yor." Yuri accused.

        "WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST TELL YOU ABOUT ADDING FUEL TO THE FIRE?!" I screamed, resisting the urge to uppercut him.         

        "What?!" Yor gasped.

        "Let's go follow him." Yuri spoke.

        "W-we can't do that!" Yor tried to reason.

        "I agree! We can't do that, Yuri! Have you no shame?!" I exclaimed.

        He's acting like he's following one of the people suspected of espionage at our job (or my SSS gig)!      

        "You aren't worried at all, Yor? About your so-called husband cheating?" Yuri questioned, turning to look at Yor.        

         "Well... maybe just a little..." Yor muttered.

        I was about to interject, say some wistful words about "how relationships should have trust" before remembering when I bickered with Yuri about if he'd fall in love with someone else and cheat before we agreed to get officially married.

        I felt like I was about to throw up, I don't want to be a hypocrite! But I also don't want there to be another physical war between Ostania and Westalis! But if Yuri finds out that Twilight is a spy and he gets caught, then Twilight's mission to keep peace between Ostania and Westalis will be screwed!

        "You need to be careful that he doesn't notice you, Yor." Yuri instructed. "Stay close, but not too close. You need room in case the target suddenly stops. You can't stop yourself, or you'll get spotted."

        "You sure know a lot about this, Yuri." Yor commented.

        "Uh... they just said that on some cartoon I watched with chihuahua girl the other day..." Yuri claimed.

        Dummy, we weren't even here! You were healing up from your wound, remember? I thought to myself.          

         I heard some noise from an alley and peaked over, seeing our lieutenant!

        What does he want? I thought to myself as Yuri noticed.

        "I-I-I-I-I'm sorry, Yor! I just remembered I had some paperwork that I forgot to file yesterday!" Yuri exclaimed. "Stay with Yor." Yuri whispered into my ear.

        "Huh?" Yor gasped.

        "I have to run back to the ministry! You go expose Loi-Loi's infidelity by yourself, okay?!" Yuri spoke. "I'm really sorry!" he shouted as he ran from us.

        "Hey, wait a minute! Yuri!" Yor shouted.

        Shouting? Thanks for giving us away... I thought to myself, then redirected my thoughts to the serious matters. Two emergency summons today? There's something going on between WISE and the SSS today. I can't go to the SSS since Yuri ordered me not to, but I should be able to go to WISE? I'll follow Twilight.

        Me and Yor kept following him as he walked into the hospital, allowing Yor to see for herself that she's actually going to "work." 

        "See, Yor? You have nothing to worry about. When has Loid ever given you a reason to doubt him?" I smiled. 

        "You're right. This was childish..." Yor sighed. "We can go home and make some tea." Yor suggested, smiling at me.

        "I would love to, but I'm on the lookout for an anniversary present for Yuri." I smiled sheepishly. "This is the only time that he's not with me, so I need to hurry before I have to get to work myself later!"

        "Ah, I understand! Do you need any help?" Yor questioned.

        "No thanks, I want to give him something straight from my heart." I spoke. "Have a good day, Yor! Tell Anya I said hi!" I spoke, jogging off to the streets away from the hospital.

        I ducked into an alleyway and waited for Yor to leave the hospital, making sure her back was turned from me before running back to the hospital. I ran into the lobby and walked through the halls, finding a nurse. 

        "Excuse me, I have an appointment for Dr. Forger, but I got lost and I don't know where his office his." I smiled.

        "Ah, no problem! This hospital is pretty big. I'll guide you, follow me." The nurse spoke.

        I followed the nurse to an office as she knocked on the door.

        "Come in." I heard Twilight's voice as we opened the door.

        "(Y-) Mrs. Briar?" Twilight spoke, looking at me as a white-haired woman stood next to him.

        I recognized her as Nightfall. She's very pretty, but she's very scary to me, so I stay clear from her. 

        "Mrs. Briar has an appointment with you, Dr." The nurse stated.

        "Thank you. Come on in, Mrs. Briar." Twilight spoke. 

        I nodded, walking in and closing the door behind him.

        Bugged? I morsed through my blinks.

        Safe space. Twilight morsed with his own eyes.

        "You're Nightfall, correct?" I spoke in a soft voice just in case the walls were thin as I held out a hand.

        "You know her?" Nightfall questioned, eyeing my hand like it was gum on her shoe.

        "Yes, this is Vixen. She's infiltrated the SSS and is up to date with information from them. I heard from the Handler you're back on the force." Twilight informed. "What brings you here?"

        "The SSS." I spoke. "An emergency summon happened today with the SSS. I was informed from my husband to not attend, so I'm here." 

        "You came here without orders from the Handler?" Twilight questioned, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

        "I need information from WISE and the SSS so I can determine accurate and inaccurate information to feed the Handler." I explained.

        "You're married to an SSS agent?" Nightfall spoke, a glare on her face.

        "Just for this mission." I smiled.

        "There's no time to send the Handler a message. We'd bring you, but your husband will identify you immediately." Twilight spoke.

        "There must be something I can do. I'm still apart of WISE, after all." I huffed.

        "Fine. Let's make haste, the SSS may already be on the scene." Twilight sighed. "Nightfall, the details." 

        Nightfall gave me a glare before reluctantly speaking up.        

        "We have an extreme level 3 situation. WISE HQ in Ostania has been trying to ferret out a mole. Yesterday, they finally uncovered the culprit. However, by the time they were identified, the mole had gone underground. And right around the same time, numerous top secret documents were taken from agency files. Among them was a coded map indicating areas of operational activity by WISE agents in Ostania. And some of the information contained within that document pertains of Operation STRIX. If that were to fall into Eastern hands and be decoded... our lives would be in danger." Nightfall explained in a mouthful.

        I'm unaware of the SSS receiving new files, so it hasn't been delivered yet. I thought to myself. I haven't seen anyone at the SSS that is a spy at WISE, could it be a new recruit? I'm aware of the new woman that came aboard, she's a total rookie, but the Director really wanted her onboard. But I doubt she's the mole, it's just a gut feeling. I don't know of any new rookies other than her, so it must be someone whose been at the SSS for longer than me, but if that's the case. I might not be able to help... unless.

        "Hey, I got an idea. I'm heading to the library, take this. It's a tracker so I know where you guys are, I'll meet up with you both later." I spoke, handing Twilight a small chip that he attached to his collar without second thought. 

        "You better hurry with whatever you have to do. Nightfall, you and I will make our way to the scene." Twilight spoke.

        "Be careful!" I exclaimed, quickly opening and shutting the door as I ran down the hall.

        I followed the way the nurse guided me to the office and made it out of the hospital, running into town and to the HQ of SSS. I checked the clock and knew it was time. I clocked in and ran to find a guy who owes me a favor (by that, I mean making someone do my work).

        "Hey, Donnie! I need a favor, buddy." I spoke, patting his shoulder.

        "Oh, what's up?" he smiled.

        "Today's your anniversary, right?" I questioned.

        "Huh? Today's my anni- OH! TODAY'S MY ANNIVERSARY! NO WONDER CARMEN WAS ANGRY AT ME THIS MORNING- but that never seems to be new..." He spoke, going through many stages of shock. 

        "Listen, today's my anniversary with Yuri! I can pick you up an anniversary present too for Carmen if you put my name in your document with yours." I spoke, referring to the document he was writing as he listened to a bugged room on one of our potential suspects. "This is the only time I can go out and get the present, but I need to be at work too! Please?" I spoke.

        I need to make sure that the SSS don't know I'm working with WISE in this part of the mission. If I mess with the information they gain, the SSS will kill me! I thought to myself. 

        "Yeah. I got you. Barely doing any work anyways with this! Thanks, (Y/N)!" he beamed. 

        "No worries, man! I'll see ya soon!" I spoke, rushing out of the room.

        I carefully checked the room with our schedule, making sure that there wasn't anybody there, before I ran out of the room. I ran to a nearby shop I knew that WISE was in control of, where you make anonymous purchases for wigs, outfits, and contacts to change your appearance for missions (or, their public front, for costume parties or parades). 

        I purchased a (different hair color) wig and a different shade of (eye color) for my contacts (making sure they were appropriate for my eyesight since I decided I wouldn't wear my glasses [if you wear glasses]). I grabbed a pink t-shirt, a white ribbon, black shorts, and a pair of brown boots. I made the purchase and ran into an alley, changing clothes and hiding my old outfit behind a dumpster in the dark alley. I threw a cereal box from the dumpster onto the ground near the alley entrance so I'd find my clothes as I raced out and to the library near city hall.

        I made inside and snagged a computer, taking a seat and quickly logging into the public computer with the library's username and password written on a yellow sticky-note on the desk. I wrote a fake name on the computer's public name log, then disabled the browser from any third-party trying to watch my internet activity. 

        I hacked into the SSS database, the screen going black with green letters.

        Woah, cliche hacking. I thought to myself, before quickly pushing away that thought. 

        It took longer than I'd like to admit it, but I finally found the information the Director receives from his little mole (perhaps my hacking skills are getting rusty). Sometimes there were emails but as I long as I thought really hard enough, I would crack the words they made up and proceed with the next file. This scum has been actively giving information on WISE for at least two years now, in fact, he was originally from Ostanian Intelligence before he got in WISE solely for Ostania's purpose! Worst of all, there's no name! All of his emails and files are signed off with W.W. Who had the initials W.W. that I'm aware of?        

        Nobody, that I can think of that the top of my head, that is. But the good thing about our day and age is that the library has public files for use, so marriage certificates and criminal records are available to me. 

        I need to get to the backroom and get those files so nobody knows I retrieved them, but I need those librarians to get away from that back door.

        I noticed a group of kids nearby and walked over to them, fishing in my pocket for some money. 

        "Wanna make some money?" I questioned, changing the pitch of my voice to a high but monotone tone, that way if there's any cameras or microphones here being watched by the SSS, they wouldn't recognize me. 

        The three kids nodded excitedly.

        "I need you guys to distract that librarian, but don't tell them that! Tell them you're looking for a book that's about a zebra becoming a tooth fairy and convince them to go look for it with you, okay?" I instructed.

        "Okay!" they all agreed, rushing towards the librarian's desk and distracting the librarian as I watched from behind a bookshelf.

        The librarian seemed a little stingy to leave, but they eventually agreed after some pestering from the kids. While they were distracted with that, I ran into the backroom and looked through metal cabinet files. I made it to a large drawer with the letter W written on a piece of tape. I scanned through the folders and papers rather impatiently since I'm on a timer. 

        I found the files of civilians and searched through, looking at the faces in case they'd be familiar. It's going to be a man since me and Chloe, our new recruit, are the only females in the SSS and we're both new. The only think I'm running off on is they're a man and their initials are W.W. I found a file that made me pause, observing the face more closely.

        He had a long face with white skin and blue, droopy eyes. His hair was blond and he has thick eyebrows with a fair and tall build. I checked the name, making sure that initials matched up (they did). I checked his birthdate and figured it was reasonable since he's a double-agent. The file said he works at the Ostanian Foreign Ministry (a cover-up in case WISE agents come snooping around here, like me). I swear I've seen those eyes before, whether at WISE HQ or Ostanian Intelligence. 

        I know I have a bad memory, but I really think I just found my guy! I thought to myself, smiling.

        I know that WISE had identified the mole, but looking at these files tells me how much Ostania really knows about WISE, and I know if that coded map from Westalian Intelligence gets out, it'll definitely end up in the National Unity Party somehow, then we're all screwed!

        I placed the file back where I found it, now having information on the target myself.

        Now I can hunt this mole down myself, I thought to myself, smiling at the irony itself.

        I looked around to make sure the librarian wasn't around as I exited the backroom, getting away from the librarian's desk and waiting for the librarian to give up on their search of the zebra tooth fairy book. It didn't take too long before the librarian complained about this being a waste of time, and going back to their desk.

        "Here. Thanks for your help, and ya didn't see me." I spoke with my undercover voice, handing the kids their well-earned money and running out of the library.

        I checked the watch on my hand, turning a tiny button twice, and seeing the clock's face get swapped to a black screen with a bunch of white lines, and green and red dot. The white lines are the streets of Ostania being displayed from the satellites, the red dot is my location, and the green dot is where Twilight is. 

        I won't be able to run that far on foot, and the train would take too long (not to mention I'd have to hop multiple trains too).

        My only option is to steal a car. Well, it's for the greater good. I'll return it! I convinced myself, before finding a motorcycle on the street left unattended.

        Or... we'll be dramatic! I smiled, running up and hopping on it. 

        I grabbed the wires and retraced the steps I remember one of my WISE trainers telling me a while ago. I burnt my hand a couple times and lost the feeling in them, but I finally got it working as I heard the beautiful cat purr of the engine. 

        I checked my watch once more, looking at the location of Twilight once more and memorizing it as I fixed the white ribbon in my wig, making sure my wig was secured very tightly to my head by tying the ribbon on. I turned the gas and rode away. Judging by how far it looks on my digital map, they must be either in or nearby Shellbury, in Northwest Ostania. It'll probably take a good thirty minutes to get there—that is if I abide by traffic laws, but again, I'm on a timer and the small "peace treaty" Westalis and Ostania is in danger, so we're going fast enough that it'll make lightning look slow.

        I got there in ten minutes, internally glad of saving time as I parked the motorcycle on the side of the road, checking my watch to see Twilight wasn't too far. I made it to a fountain in some park, seeing one of SSS' captains meeting with Winston. 

        I sat down on a bench, eavesdropping into their conversation for any leverage.

        "How about you hand over those files, Wheeler. WISE seems to have gotten wind of the meet, so I don't want to drag this out." The captain spoke.

        Yes, yes. WISE agents like me, I internally thought, yet shut myself up so I can focus. 

        "Before I do... I want to verify that you're really with the State Security Service." Winston responded.

        The briefcase he's holding must be the files, I could shoot him with the gun on my waist under my shirt, but that's extremely risky. 

        "What, you think I'm really Twilight, Master of Disguise? Ha ha. Good one." The captain laughed. "Can you prove to me that you're the real Wheeler?" 

        "My green tie and yellow gemstone tiepin already have." Winston informed. 

        "Mm... hey, it's yellow." The captain spoke, looking at one of his men.

        "Got it." The lackey spoke, walking away to make a call.

        What is going on? Is that a code the SSS made I'm unaware of? Well, with my low-rank position it is possible. I'll have to find information on their secret codes later.

        "As for... Our fake Wheeler here... Is that you, Twilight?" the captain spoke.

        Twilight? I thought to myself, checking my watch. He is! No wonder why Twilight's location showed up here! I can't believe I forgot about that!

        "That really is an incredible impersonation of Wheeler. You're every bit as good as they say you are." The captain spoke, reaching into his jacket's pocket and pulling out a gun. "So, what's next now? You gonna peel off that disguise for me?" 

        I reached for my own gun, ready for combat in case Twilight needs some help as I watched Twilight wiggle his foot. Suddenly, the big water fountain next to them blew up. Someone fired at Twilight as he ran, clicking a button on his briefcase that turned the bottom of the briefcase into a gun!

        Woah! I didn't know HQ had those! A whole shoot-out took place and I decided this wasn't the place for me. If I get shot and Yuri notices, he'll know I didn't follow his instructions, and that I was possibly working with WISE!

        I ran away and ducked behind some bushes surrounded by a fence, hiding in them as I checked Twilight's location on my watch.

        He's running straight for me? 

        I peeked my head out slightly, seeing a figure running to my spot. I ducked back into the bushes so I wouldn't get caught, hearing more footsteps running towards me.

        "Yuri!" a pair of guys shouted.

        Yuri?! Yuri's here?! Crap! 

        I felt my heartbeat raise out of fear for myself and Yuri's sake. This place really seems to be dangerous, he shouldn't be here! Twilight and I are here!

        "You still with us, man?!" one shouted.

        "Yeah, where did he go?!" the other shouted.

        "Ngh..." Yuri groaned.

        Is he injured? How?! Who ran into him and hurt him?!

        "The East gate..." Yuri mumbled.

        Huh, that's weird. He sounds like Yuri, but not at the same time? Is this... Twilight? I checked my watch to see his location, it proving my correct.

        "East! Got it!" they shouted as they ran away to find Twilight (who was right in front of them). 

        I very carefully peeked my head out and saw "Yuri" standing up, adjusting his jacket.

        "Oi!" I exclaimed, standing up from the bushes 

        I don't have to be careful, I'm in a disguise! I remembered.

        "Yuri" turned around quickly, looking at me with a surprised expression.

        "Um... hey...?" he paused.

        "No worries, Twilight. It's me, Vixen." I smiled as his composure relaxed.

        "Thank God, it's you. That's a decent disguise—amateurish, but it works well enough."

        "Sure as hell worked on the Master of Disguise." I smirked pridefully. "Now, what's next?" 

        "Let's make our getaway." Twilight spoke, looking around before his eyes landed on a sewer gate.

        "Ah, shit..." I mumbled, knowing what we'd have to do.

        Gross...

        "Let's go." Twilight ordered.

        "Yes, boss!" I joked, trying to make light out of this situation as we walked through some mud.

        I lifted the heavy cover and jumped in, Twilight following after as he closed the lid.

        "Stay quiet, light on your feet, and look out for all exits and entrances." Twilight muttered.

        "I'm a spy too, remember?" I huffed quietly.

        Even after all these years, he still has the audacity to treat me like I don't know anything. 

        We started running and heard some footsteps up ahead around the corner. Twilight efficiently kicked up a metal pipe for me as he ran. I caught it and gripped it tightly as he pulled out his gun, getting ready to fight.

        I felt a warm sense of admiration that he gave me the metal pipe since he's aware I don't like using guns, not after what I've used them for in the war. 

        We past the corner as Twilight shot, but instead we saw, Yuri, the real Yuri!

        Twilight's shot missed him, hitting his hat instead, as Twilight paused, making me pause too. Twilight's gun was aimed directly at Yuri's face, I was going to shout and tell him no, but he held his hand, behind me and only for me to see.

        He's telling me to stand down and stay behind him—like always...

        "Gah!" they both exclaimed.

        Yuri hasn't spotted me... he's too focused on Twilight that he hasn't seen me! This is good!

        Two gunshots rang simultaneously, one hitting the gun out of Yuri's hand and into the sewer water and the other piercing Twilight's shoulder. 

        "Guh!" Twilight voiced his pain as Yuri kicked Twilight's gun out of his hand then stepping back to make room as the gun hit the sewer wall before going into the sewer water too.

        Twilight clutched his shoulder tightly, a serious and frustrated expression on his face as they both stood still, looking at each other. They both look similar to each other, it's really scary. The only difference is that Loid is 6'1" and Yuri is 5'10". I wondered briefly on how good Yuri is at hand-to-hand combat, before seeing it myself.

        "Give up..." Yuri started, raising his fists. "And come quietly!" 

        He punched at Twilight, but Twilight dodged it and kicked him in the gut, giving Yuri a punch to his face as he fell down. While Yuri was distracted, I threw Twilight a white cloth from my pocket for emergencies just as this.

        I have to make sure I'm prepared in case me or someone else gets shot or is bleeding intensely. I've learned from my past mistakes.

        Yuri stood up, his fists raised once more, having a mark on his face as Twilight wrapped the cloth around his bleeding wound. 

        "Stop resisting and surrender. We've got the sewer surrounded." Yuri claimed.

        There's no way! They didn't figure it out this quickly that we were down here, did they?

        "If you don't want to die here, run back to the surface. Now." Twilight commanded, mimicking Yuri's voice pretty well.

        I understand why Twilight sounds different from Yuri. Twilight speaks in a calm and collected tone, always serious. Yuri, he speaks with his tone, he's very open about his feelings. 

        "DON'T TALK TO ME IN MY OWN VOICE!" Yuri screamed, rushing at Twilight. 

        Twilight quickly undid his belt and whipped Yuri in the jaw, hard, with it as he drew blood and possibly even broke his jaw! Yuri fell hard onto the ground as Twilight looked down at him.

        "You may not be eating any decent meals for a while, but you'll live." Twilight spoke.

        He's showing Yuri mercy. Could it be for operation STRIX? So Yor wouldn't be devastated and the family falls apart? Could it be he's aware of my feelings for Yuri and doesn't wish to kill him out of respect (or pity) towards me? Or, could it be he's genuinely grown attached to his "in-law"?

        That should be enough, I thought, worried for Yuri's safety and health. I'll make him some southern stew tonight, he really likes that since it came from his childhood. 

        Twilight turned around, giving me a nod as he started to walk away. I almost turned to follow, but I heard the sound of metal and raised my metal pipe. I turned the corner to face Yuri, our metal pipes clashing together. I pulled his leg from under him with my own leg, then used my metal pipe to shove him backwards, kicking the metal pipe that fell out of his hands into the sewer water.

        "You're wrong, Twilight! It's you who won't be eating any decent meals... in your prison cell!" Yuri spoke, spitting out blood.

         Wow, even though I'm right in front of his face and entered the fight, he's still caring about Twilight.

        "And who the hell are you?!" Yuri shouted.

        I ignored his comment, afraid if I talked he's recognize my voice as I stared him down.

        I really, really, don't want to fight him.

        Twilight noticed my hesitancy and was about to speak up, but Yuri charged at me. I hit him upside the head with my metal pipe with some heavy force, hoping to at least knock him out or disorient him so we can run and avoid further harm to him.         

        Yuri staggered to his side but quickly punched and hit my jaw.

        Man, he packs a punch! I thought, hearing a clack! 

        I grabbed him by his jacket and pinned him against the sewer wall as he grabbed my wig and pulled it. The wig fell as he looked at me, confused as my natural hair came down.

         "Wh-" I used his confusion to my advantage, grabbed his own hair and quickly turned him around so he was facing the sewer wall, slamming his head three times in the concrete wall before pulling back.

        Twilight quickly threw himself into the mix and karate-chopped Yuri's throat, coming up behind Yuri and elbowing him into the ground, (even giving a good kick to in-between Yuri's legs).

        I wanted to scold Twilight for being too harsh and mean (like I wasn't slamming his head against concrete a few seconds ago), but I understood Yuri's looking to kill (or at least capture) us both and watched on. 

        Yuri stood his ground and Twilight punched his face as I knelt to the ground and slammed my metal pipe into the back of his knee with full force. I ran back to Twilight's side as Yuri fell down, but he just got back up!

        Jesus Christ! Yuri Briar is seriously a force to be dealt with, how is he standing?!

        "Don't hold back this time." Twilight spat out harshly, his eyes kept on Yuri.

        "YOU BASTARD! I AIN'T!" Yuri shouted, holding his fist up and rushing towards Twilight as I took a deep breath and hid behind Twilight, clutching my metal pipe tightly and raised it.

        He said not to hold back. Sorry, love. I thought to myself. Consider this payback for my jaw.

        Yuri got closer and Twilight quickly side-stepped, leaving me vulnerable. Yuri didn't even stagger as he changed his target to me, but his eyes widened. 

        He ran too fast, so he can't stop now. His only option is to move forward and attack, even hesitate his attack now and he's screwed (which, he really can't stop now anyways).

        "He was talking to me." I huffed, making my pitch and tone high and monochrome as I did earlier in the library. 

        I swung my metal pipe down hard onto his head, the force even hurting my own arms as he fell cold onto the ground. 

        We watched closely as Yuri was on the ground, making sure he'd stay there. To my surprise, Yuri stood up, causing me and Twilight to let out a scream of shock. I swung my metal pipe upwards, hitting his jaw as he fell back to the ground. Me and Twilight watched on to make sure he was fully down as I held my metal pipe up high.

        Twilight huffed heavily as breathed in, finally glad it's over and that he's still alive.

        "Yor... I'm so... sorry..." he mumbled before passing out (for real this time).

        "Ready?" Twilight huffed out.

        I nodded, staring at Yuri before leaning down and checking his pulse.

        "He's fine." Twilight confirmed. 

        "I just have to make sure..." I mumbled, checking Yuri's pockets. 

        I found a walkie-talkie and looked at Twilight. 

        "Do his voice. Tell him to come find him; that he's injured." I ordered, shoving the walkie-talkie in his hand.

        "Are you serious right now?!" he hissed. "We gotta get outta here!" 

        "He's hurt!" I huffed. 

        "Fine..." Twilight groaned, grabbing the walkie-talkie. "Yuri Briar. Injured. Help, over." He spoke, talking in his tone.

        "Thank you." I smiled.

        "Let's move." Twilight spoke, grabbing my hand.

        Twilight started to run while clutching his shoulder as I followed, running ahead of him in case of any danger. I have to be able to protect him since he's injured. We ran a while until we heard different footsteps, causing Twilight to grab my arm and stop the both of us. The footsteps stopped as Twilight carefully led us to a corner. He peeked out of the corner as I watched his expression to see if it changes, indicating he saw something. I turned to look at my right just in case anybody was there, looking just in time to see a tall man holding up a brick and aiming it right at my head.

        "Oi!" I shouted, alerting Twilight of the man's prescence as I quickly ducked, bringing my metal pipe up and wacking his jaw. 

        The brick was crushed in the man's hand as it collided with the concrete wall.

        He was going to hit me with that! That would've killed me!

        Twilight grabbed my pink shirt's collar as he jumped backwards, forcing me away from the man. 

        "Winston Wheeler!" I shouted.

       "You're him!" Twilight exclaimed, quickly tapping a finger on my lower back as he let go of my collar.

        Don't, he's telling me. 

        "You're Winston Wheeler, right? Relax! I'm with the SSS! I was pursuing a wise agent down in the sewers! I don't know what you're doing here, but I sure am glad to see you! Captain Gascoigne and the others are waiting for you back that way! Let's join up with them!" Twilight spoke, grabbing a SSS badge out of his pocket. 

        I, too, grabbed a badge out of my own SSS pocket out of my pocket. 

        "How about you show me your I.D. to be sure." Winston spoke, outstretching his hand.

        "Okay." Twilight obliged, giving him his badge as I did the same with mine.

        "I don't match up with my badge at the moment, I'm in disguise." I explained.

        "What about the guy you were pursuing?" Winston questioned.

        "Securing you is our priority." Twilight spoke as I nodded.

        "WISE is here and infiltrated, we can worry about the agent later." I added as I crossed my arms.

        "Lieutenant Yuri Briar and Lieutenant (Y/N) Briar. You're married?" Winston spoke as Twilight crept behind him.

        Twilight came behind him and suddenly Winston turned his back, kicking Twilight in his stomach.

        "Or is that just the face you're wearing?" Winston commented.

        I immediately raised and slammed my metal pipe on his knee, causing him to huff and hop back a few steps. 

        "Nice try. Before you silenced them, your footsteps were those of someone being chased. You should know better than to lie like that." Winston spoke, the leg I hit raised from the ground as I yanked Twilight by his collar and pulled him up from the ground.

        "I don't understand you, woman. I've seen that hair before, facial structure too, and your badge just proves it. You're apart of the SSS too; are you aware of this?" Winston spat, his last question directed towards Twilight.

        "Course I am, you really didn't think you were the only double-agent, huh?" I smirked, my metal pipe raised. 

        "Huh. So you're both WISE. Those are really good disguises. Could you actually be him? Could you be Twilight?" Winston questioned. "We did an OP together once, remember? But I never got to see your face. So... let's take a look at that illustrious face of yours. Couldn't hurt to have one more gift for the SSS..." 

        "You gotta get through me first, pal." I spat out.

        I don't need to hold back at all. I can just kill him and have it over with; his life holds no more worth, not after he traded mankind for some extra pocket change. At least with me, I'm doing this to keep peace, not destroy it.

        "If I were you, I'd run. A weak woman like you is no match for me." Winston spoke, clutching his knuckles.

        So what he's taller and stronger than me? I'll whoop his ass! I thought to myself, grinding my teeth. 

        I clutched my metal pipe tightly, then threw it at him. He caught it with no thought.

        "That was stup-" I reached into my shirt and grabbed my gun around my waist, firing straight at his head.

        He dodged it effortlessly, then ran towards me with my metal pipe. I ducked and shot his kneecap, using the floor and rocketing my elbow into his stomach. His grip loosened on the pipe as I grabbed it and slammed the pipe down on his back, knocking him to the ground.

        He grabbed my leg and pulled it under, making me fall onto the ground and hit my head on the concrete floor.

        Shit, I thought as my head rang and felt a painful sensation, followed by something wet in my hair. That better be sewer water and not blood... I thought as he quickly got on top of me and balled up his fists.

        He hit me straight in my face, hearing a crack in my nose as I reached for my gun and aimed at his face. He dodged to his right as I pulled the trigger, his weight shifting, giving me the opening to roll my body right and make him fall. I stood up and stomped on his hand, kicking the metal pipe away from his hands as I took a few steps back. 

        Twilight grabbed the pipe as we both stood next to each other, I huffed as we kept our gaze on him.

        "His fists... are made of pure steel." I panted, blood flooding out of my nose, but I didn't dare care to raise my hand and cover it, I need both hands for this fight. 

        I kept my gun trained on his head, pulling the trigger. He ducked and rushed towards us, running to Twilight and throwing a punch. Twilight blocked it with his uninjured shoulder, but Winston was too quick and used his injured leg to hit Twilight on the side of his head, knocking him out. 

        I took the opportunity to fire while his back was facing me, but it was as if he knew this as he ducked low, quickly grabbing the metal pipe and blocking the bullet, creating a dent in the pipe before he struck it at me. I stepped back to avoid his swing, but he quickly grabbed my gun and fired it at the wall six times, wasting all of my rounds. 

        "Heckler and Koch P7. Eight rounds in a magazine. Not much for a shootout, but luckily you're not in one." Winston spoke, throwing the empty gun to his side. "You won't ever be in one after I'm finished with you." He threatened, raising his fists.

        "I don't think that was necessary." I huffed, lowering my stance and widening my footing so I could prepare just about an action I need that's necessary in the moment. 

        "Just evening th-" I quickly righthooked him while he was too busy yapping, then kicked him, hard, in his nether regions. 

        "Ammo cost money, bastard." I huffed. "To pay for the money you've wasted, I'll take your life." I brought my elbow into his back, aiming for his spinal cord and hitting it. 

        It should paralyze him for a few seconds. I thought, rushing to grab the metal pipe out of his large hands. 

        I would run, but I'm not going to leave Twilight here; he'll kill him. I thought, angry at this situation. I need to buy time, WISE must be aware that Twilight hasn't returned, WISE has trackers on everyone, so they'll find him.

        I turned around to see Winston already on his feet, in fact, behind me! He tried to elbow the back of my neck but I dodged, backflipping onto his back and wrapping my thighs around his neck tightly. He tried to pry me off him, but I refused. I've always been stronger in my legs, now that I'm here, he's a fly that's right in my trap now.

        I wrapped my arms around my thighs too so I can direct more pressure to him. He's a strong and tall man, who knows how long he can hold his breath. I need him to pass out, then I'll kill him right here and now. 

        He coughed, scratching my legs but to no avail. He backed up to the sewer wall, slamming his back and the back of my head into the concrete wall. He backed into it multiple times before I felt my vision stagger, a terrible headache forming as I felt my grip loosen. He noticed and grabbed my shirt's collar, throwing me down to where Twilight was knocked out. 

        I can't do this. He's so strong... I thought to myself. If only I had the endurance Yuri has, maybe then I can take him on.

        I huffed, sitting up, only for him to place his black boot onto my cheek and roughly hit my head back onto the floor. 

        "Such a shame, I've always been a fan of cold-hearted woman." Winston spoke. "I told you, should've ran when you had the chance." He spoke, applying more pressure under his foot. 

        He's going to crush my skull... I thought, my head pounding terribly.

        "While you die, I might as well see what Twilight's face really is." Winston spoke, reaching down next to me where Twilight was and grabbing his face mask. 

        "I hope... you fall onto that metal pipe... and tear your ass open." I huffed, the left side of my face smushed onto the ground as my right cheek was under his foot. 

        My vision was fading a black and white, a color I remembered from the war in Westalis when I was younger and lost my vision, or when I'd faint many times during my training in the army and in WISE. If only I was taller, stronger, worked out more or even took some extra missions, maybe then I could've fended him off. Maybe then I could've kept peace between Ostania and Westalis.

        I hate this feeling, I was always left behind. Even as a kid, my growth was stunted after I turned ten, promptly after joining the military. The work they put me through had negative effects on my body, my eyes, my ears, my memory, and my health. I couldn't grow like the other kids after that, but I guess I truly lost my childhood innocence when I forced my way into the Westalis Army like that. How childish I was.

        I heard footsteps and trailed my eyes to where I heard them, seeing a woman with black hair. 

        Is she apart of the SSS? I thought, then recognized her pretty eyes. Nightfall! I've never been more glad to see her! I felt a smile crawl onto my face. Twilight should be in good hands now, so I don't have to fight anymore. 

        I allowed my guard to go down as I closed my eyes, taking a quick power nap.

        .

        .

        The ringing in my ears was loud, along with the pain I heard screaming in my body. I heard muffled talking, recognizing Twilight's voice, but it was younger.

        "You're going to have to do more than that to take me down." Twilight spoke.

        "Shut up! I'm going to kick your ass!" I screamed, forcing myself out of the mud I was in and charging at him

        Twilight quickly sidestepped and righthooked me, throwing me right back into the ground.

        "I hate you..." I huffed.

        "I've heard." Twilight smirked. 

        "This isn't fair. You're stronger and taller and older than me! I need like, a gun or something!" I exclaimed. 

        "Do you think the enemy cares about that? If you're armed or not?" Twilight questioned. "The only thing they care about is if your head is still attached." 

        I looked down, adverting eye-contact as I felt tears welt up in my eyes. 

        "Hey, you're still a kid. You'll grow up to be strong." Twilight spoke, sitting down next to me in the ground as he ruffled my hair.

        "But you're a teenager and you're strong!" I shouted. 

        "I worked hard for it. You just need to train a little more, even during your free time." Twilight spoke, slightly scolding me in that last part. 

        "So much work..." I sighed. 

        "You wanna be big and strong, right? Surpass me?" Twilight questioned.

        "Yeah." I confirmed.

        "Then get up and let's do this again." Twilight ordered, standing up from the ground. 

        I stood up and looked at the sun, looking for how long it'll be until dark, but I just saw my vision fading instead.

        .

        .

        I opened my eyes to find myself on someone's shoulders. I looked to my left and found a roughed-up Winston. I turned around and saw I was being carried by one of the SSS captains!

        Aw, crap, the SSS found me here! I thought to myself.        

        "She's awake!" the captain spoke, in a voice I did not recognize as his.

        "Are you okay, (Y/N)?" I heard Twilight's voice and smiled in relief, seeing him not to far in front of us, carrying Nightfall on his uninjured shoulder.

        "Are you good?" I questioned. 

        "Always deflecting." He mumbled. "I'm okay."

        "I'm fine too. I just... really need a nap. And medical attention." I sighed, the headache I have almost felt like my head was splitting open.

        "Don't worry, we're almost out of here." Twilight spoke.

        I hopped off the imposter Captain's shoulder and followed them as we made our way out of the sewers, ending up in a van. 

        "We sure are lucky they stopped short of a full-scale mobilization with checkpoints and such. They refused to get the police involved from the start. Gotta be some reason they couldn't move overtly on this." Our driver spoke.

        "If our luck holds, we might actually make it all the way back to Berlint." The guy that was imposing as one of the SSS captains spoke (now out of his disguise).

        "At any rate, by catching Wheeler, we've succeeded in protecting the West's Intelligence assets in the East." Twilight spoke. 

        "Yeah, but we heard from Blue team that our mole in the SSS's comms team got taken out." The fake SSS captain said.

        "Even after catching Wheeler, we still can't get a clean win. It's hardly worth the effort." The driver spoke.

        "I tell you, I've had enough for today." The fake SSS captain said. "Hey, Twi-guy, you're getting a drink with me when we're back." 

        "HUH?!" Twilight exclaimed. "That's out of the question! I came here under the pretext of a work emergency! If I don't get home soon, it's going to look awfully suspicious."

        "Tch! Always the family man when you wanna get outta something." Fake captain said.

        "Being a family man is literally my mission." Twilight counterclaimed. "And especially today out of all days..." 

        "Oh? Are you and the wife fighting?" fake captain spoke.

        "Don't worry, Twilight. I feel you, man." I groaned, really hoping that Yuri wasn't at home right now.

        I still need to get an anniversary present for Donnie's wife, and for Yuri too. I owe him after all me and Twilight did to him today... I thought, sighing as my work wasn't done just yet. 

        "I don't know if I'd call it a fight, exactly..." Twilight sighed. "Let's just say I'm having trouble reading her feelings."                

        "So that even happens to the lofty Twilight, huh?" Fake captain spoke. 

        "It sounds like Operation STRIX is still in danger. I'll accompany Twilight home to investigate the source of friction." Nightfall spoke.

        "What's wrong with you? Get to a hospital already!" Twilight scolded, then looked at me. "You too!" 

        "Yeah, I probably got brain damage or something." I huffed, touching my head as I still felt it ache. 

        "Yeah, he's right. Only way to help a martial squabble is to stay the hell out of it." Fake captain spoke.

        We finally got to Berlint and I finally remembered the motorcycle I left back at Shellbury. 

        Ah, damn it. Well, the police will find it sooner or later. I'll just walk around. I thought to myself. 

        I looked at the stores open at this time, not finding many, but I did find a makeup store. 

        I remember from Yor that there was this new makeup kit every girl was after, but it's so expensive, so I should just buy that (I have the money with the two jobs I'm holding).

        Right! I still have to send in a report of today's events to WISE, along with the information the SSS has received, I thought, letting out a groan as I walk into the makeup store and quickly bought the makeup kit. 

        I headed to a flower shop and got some red carnations for Carmen too, thinking about what I'll get Yuri. A first-aid kit seems like a good investment at the moment for him (and me).

        I decided to grab some flowers for Yuri too. I heard guys never receive flowers, and I could believe that with the era we live in. I did a quick trip to the store and got a big stuffed bear for him too, that way he knows it was from the heart. 

        I also made a quick trip to the doctors, having them patch up my nose and the back of my head (apparently I got hit so much the back of my head broke open, so I'll have to return to remove these staples). I also washed the blood off my face and hands there, finding the alley I left my clothes in thanks to my little cereal box. I changed clothes and got rid of my eye contacts, wearing my glasses (if you have them) once more. I made it back to the SSS headquarters seeing a very worried Donnie.

        "You're so late! I thought that you had to leave for an hour or two, not the whole day!" Donnie exclaimed.

        "The line for this damn product, I swear!" I huffed, lying to Donnie as I gave him the makeup kit and one of the bouquets. "It was expensive as hell so consider that an apology for how long it took. The demand is high for it."

        "Thanks! This means a lot! I clocked out for you too." Donnie smiled. "You need me to walk you home? It's very late." 

        "No thanks. Yuri's a jealous man." I laughed. 

        "You're right. Be safe! If you feel anyone's following you, just call me!" Donnie spoke.

        "You're a good man. Later!" I spoke, waving as I walked away with my bouquet and my teddy bear. 

        I finally made it back to my apartment, just about ready to burst into tears since I was so happy to be home. 

        Home? Can I call it that after all that's happened? I basically just committed domestic abuse today at work without Yuri even knowing of this! 

        I climbed up the apartment stairs and made it to mine and Yuri's apartment, knocking on the door since Yuri has the only key (it's a work in progress for Yuri to get me a key). Yuri opened the door with an angry expression before it faded once seeing me.

        "Hey, what happened to your nose and face?" Yuri questioned. "And why are you so late?"

        "I worked with Donnie today on listening to bugged rooms, then did this extremely long interrogation and the bastard landed a few punches!" I huffed, gritting my teeth.

        "Are you okay? You should really lay down." Yuri spoke. "And what's with the bear and flowers?"

        "For you." I mumbled, adverting my eyes. "Donnie told me about how today was his anniversary with his wife, and it made me realize we never had a honeymoon or anything, for our real or fake relationship... so... I wanted to give you something so...you know...I care..." I muttered. 

        Yuri smiled, walking towards me as he took my gifts and set it down. I looked up at him, confused on what he was doing. 

        "I don't need you to spend money on me for me to know you care. Just you being by my side is enough for me." Yuri spoke, raising his arm and patting my head. 

        I smiled, ignoring the tears welling up in my eyes as I gave him a hug, completely forgetting about his wounds.

        "Ow! Ow!" he exclaimed.

        "Oh! Sorry!" I spoke, about to let go before he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in further. 

        "No! The pain is worth it!" he spoke through tears as I laughed. "What are you crying for anyways?" he smiled.

        "Listen, been a long time since I've had genuine love directed towards me." I huffed. 

        "I'll make it my life-long mission to make sure you're always loved!" Yuri declared confidently. 

        "By the way, I won't be cooking tonight. Today's been so long with how that damn brat broke my nose and fractured my jaw." I huffed.

        "So your jaw is injured too?" Yuri sighed. "I picked up some store soup for me since it'll be a while for me to see solid foods; you can have some."

        "What happened?" I questioned.

        "It's a long story..." Yuri huffed, resting his head on top of mine.

        Earlier, he said that just me being by his side was enough, but, I'm not truly by his side in this case... am I?

        Yuri Briar, I'm terribly sorry, but I don't think I could ever be the perfect Mrs. Briar for you. I'm Vixen, the West Spy after all. I've never failed a mission yet and I doubt I'd fail this one too just because of some measly feelings I harbor.

        Parts: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, current part, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

        Want more Yuri content? Yuri has his own masterlist now! Check it out!

        Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist (Please request, I have too much free time and too little fics).

        Hey! I need your help, my star! What do you wanna read for chapter 10? Help me decide on some new character’s personalities! Poll

[tshortik]

Hiiiiiiiii 👀 👉👈 thats SUCH a cool redesign for Zariel, it got me so excited to DM a DiA campaign. Any tips for running it? I LOVE YOUR ART ITS SO AMAZING AND THE COLORS ARE SO PRETTY, THANK YOU FOR SHARING IT OKBYEE

Aww thank you so much! ❤❤❤ I LOVE Descent into Avernus, but my love is a complicated one. I do think it is a really good, albeit difficult module, to learn how to become a better DM, though... I will explain.

The lore in DiA is pretty flat and the campaign is pretty railroady by design. If you have a roleplay-heavy group, I think it is best to heavily alter the module and incorporate things in there, that are very relevant to your players. That is also its magic though, because you can make the conscious decision to just use DiA as a base and structure, that you then heavily alter. The premise of the main quest is cool and imo easy to follow, so taking that and shaping everything around it can be pretty neat. I don't think I would have learned as much as a DM, if I had just used a "perfect" module that already did everything for me. If that is not what one looks for though, that's also understandable.

Tips:

In DiA, the characters start in Baldur's Gate, which is imo the absolute worst decision I've ever seen. Elturel's fate is integral to the story, so I recommend having your PCs at least see what happens to Elturel. I recommend the oneshot The Fall of Elturel for that, where the PCs become witness to Elturel's fate from afar. It will also cover the low-level sessions in a neat way. Having at least one player character with a connection to that city also really helps. Otherwise, your PCs will just go "Oh wow how terrible. Anyway, I'm not from there anyway, don't know anyone from there, never been there, whatever lmao."

Some people cut out the Baldur's Gate part, but my group enjoyed that area a lot, so you can use it for roleplay-heavy sessions and fleshing out the lore. It is also a great sandbox to figure out how you as the DM will implement your characters goals and backstory into the plot, before venturing forth. Having a player character from Baldur's Gate or with a connection from there is also perfect. SPOILERS: Same thing with Candlekeep as well. It is a wicked cool location that is not explored in the module at all, but it might end up a very interesting mini arc for your PCs if you approach it on your own terms.

To flesh out the lore and make everything feel more lived in and logical (note: there are some very silly bits in the module, that would make a thoughtful player immediately go "that makes NO sense lol"), I recommend checking out the Alexandrian Remix. It can go on huge tangents that are unnecessary for your own means though, so don't feel like you have to stick to it 100%. It does have some really neat ideas and fixes for the lore though, and I have ended up using it more than the actual book lmao.

Avernus as a Sandbox is also great. In general, if you find a way to give your players choice in where they go in the Nine Hells, they will probably have a good time. I think they should def feel pressure and know of a goal, but also make sure that they have power over what road they take there, you know?

I mentioned Candlekeep – Elminster's Candlekeep Companion is also an amazing resource if you wanna flesh out that location. I have also heard of some people adding adventures from Candlekeep Mysteries in there, but I didn't do it myself cuz my players felt time pressure.

Contrast the evil, awful and depressing with moments that are nice and calm, even if it's just roleplay opportunities. Otherwise everything will feel like a drag. On the other hand, don't be afraid to then overwhelm your players by throwing a bit too much at them afterwards. High tensions and emotions are perfect for the setting imo, but you need to design it with ups and lows as to not overwhelm.

I have completely rewritten some of the Forgotten Realms lore, changed characters' genders and names and races in the book (Ravengard is a woman in my story, Reya is a dragonborn, etc.) especially about the deities. Don't be afraid to make the story your own. I also incorporated the player backstories heavily into the plot, which makes them sometimes go on completely homebrewed sidequests. Embrace that and don't be afraid of it!

Sometimes players also see connections where there are none, or they speculate about super wild stuff – and this might be controversial – but sometimes it is really neat to take some of those ideas (not all! otherwise there is no surprise) and make them actually relevant, even if they weren't before. If your players are engaged, that is always the best possible situation. Making some of their thoughts true can be on one hand extremely satisfying for them, and on the other hand they will make your own made-up-world much more interesting, because they collaborated unknowingly in making it so much richer and complex.

It really helps the flow of the campaign to have at least one PC that is: Morally dubious, or interested in deities, religion or lore. If not, you as the DM can attempt to make them more interested until they actually get to Avernus, through new goals or revelations. The themes of the Nine Hells have a lot to do with corruption and betrayal and emotions, so having characters with themes that go into that direction will make it easier to keep your players engaged.

This is my own opinion, but maybe play a couple devil npcs with this motto: There are certain good deeds only a devil can commit. Devils are the enemies, but they also have to become your allies. Your characters will be literally walking through a plane that is inhabited primarily by devils, and they will have to speak to some of them or parlay, if they don't want to be ripped to shreds immediately. Devils are smart and cunning, and many would prefer to talk it out, instead of risking their lives in the Nine Hells. This can also be an opportunity to explore corruption or redemption arcs, or to explore fiendish pacts. Both can flesh out the story tremendously. 👀

The setting gives you the opportunity to explore some esoteric and theological concepts. IF that is your jam (it is certainly mine), think about how you make that digestible to your players. They could find lore in a library, find strange ruins, meet a powerful deity, get visions by other deities, be manipulated by archdevils, etc. You don't have to leave it all as subtext, because devils and angels and otherwise literally become a central point of the campaign. Also don't be afraid to get weird about angels and devils. They are from a different plane – making them a little alien, letting them have absolutely wild opinions about the universe, not needing to fit them into our ideas of science – that is rly interesting stuff to explore as a PC and also DM. Resources (optional)

Flee Mortals by MCDM, Tome of Beasts (2023), Tome of Beasts 2, Creature Codex have really awesome monsters

Encounters in Avernus

The Encyclopedia of Demons & Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley is a book that I own privately for some creative projects, but I got some neat inspiration from it for my campaign too!

A lot of the lore in Dnd is very questionable, but especially in the older versions you can find some wild and creative shit (and also lots of problematic rubbish you can just filter out lmao) that is mentioned once and then never again. Little nuggets like that usually inspire me the most and a simple sentence can spawn an entire lore or mission idea for me. Some books that you might find interesting (try to find a pdf version online cuz they aren't printed anymore) are Fiendish Codex I: Hordes of the Abyss, Fiendish Codex II: Tyrants of the Nine Hells (3.5), Guide to Hell (2e), Manual of the Planes (3.5).

[thaisibir]

Faith, Science, and Lessons to Learn in Claymore

Here come my thoughts I've articulated the best I could on why I absolutely love Claymore for over ten years. I love how faith and science are represented and explored in this series, especially how they are not only compared side by side but brought together. And I don't exaggerate when I say this series had taught me valuable life lessons and how to be a better person.

Faith vs science: Rabona represents the institution of faith. The organization is an institution of science. As Claymore is a story centered on, of course, the Claymores, and the world as they know it, we see a lot more than the institution of faith how the institution of science operates. And it's a very cruel, brutal operation. Girls are salvaged and trafficked to be subject to experimentation and training, conditioned to think and work like cogs in a machine. Their entire lives revolve around constant, endless missions of killing yoma. All the while they're fighting against their own inhuman side. They're ticking time bombs destined for nothing but a violent death. It's a vicious cycle. A system set up to doom them from the start.

I have to mention how incredibly disgusting and clever the psychology behind the organization's system is. 47 Claymores are deployed and scattered throughout the continent at all times, but few ever come across one another. I'm sure that after training, most full-fledged warriors go through their entire careers without ever meeting another of their own. The few times they meet up are strictly for missions only. No time for real bonding and fraternizing. In fact, it seems to be discouraged and deliberate. And there is no care or effort whatsoever put into fostering friendly relations between Claymores and the common folk. They have no home, no family, not even friends, no autonomy, only complete dependence on the organization. Not unlike a toxic relationship where the victim has no choice but to be shackled to the abusive partner. That's exactly how the organization wants it to be. They want their subjects to be powerful, dependable, but expendable and replaceable at the drop of a hat. The lonely and isolated lifestyle imposed on Claymores, along with the rules, keep them in line. Keep them apart and they would never get a whiff of the skeleton in the organization's closet and entertain the idea of rebelling. We all know that didn't last forever. (More on that in a later section...)

All right I think I've been beating a dead horse talking about how horrible the organization is. In contrast to their operations involving exploitation, dissection, and separation of Claymores, Rabona is the site of their unity and humanization.

Rabona is the pivoting point for bringing together a Claymore and three humans in their efforts to take down a yoma. It's where we learn that bonds are stronger than the carnal desire to awaken and feast on guts. Years later, it's also in Rabona where the same cooperation happens. Just on a much greater scale. Humans and Claymores collectively learned to fight alongside each other. Irene proved that it's possible to survive outside the organization. Galatea took it a step further, being the first to show that it's possible for a warrior to live happily among humans, albeit in secret. By the end, an era of a truly peaceful coexistence begins. It's a beautiful irony that the city well known for its spirituality, image of holiness, and rejection of the "unholy" becomes the first place to openly welcome Claymores.

The organization topples and falls apart from a single decisive strike. Meanwhile, despite multiple assaults from powerful Awakened Beings, Rabona still stands. And I'm sure it will continue to endure and flourish with the Claymores as its new resident defenders. An institution built on fear and blind obedience is much weaker than one built on the warriors' true sense of allegiance, belonging, and home.

That is not to say that science is all bad in Claymore. After all, surgery is what physically brought Teresa and Clare together.

Father Vincent: I need to talk about this man and how vastly underrated he is. In a story full of incredibly strong and kickass half-monster women, Vincent is not only one of the few ordinary men in the cast, but the best of them morally speaking (second to Raki). That scene of Vincent with Galatea, Clarice, and Miata made him my favorite male character in the series. He had come a long way since his first appearance. Even then, he had come around from a position of prejudice and his city's idea of holy vs unholy to acceptance and gratitude for Clare. His brief sharing with Galatea of that turning point shows incredible self-awareness and introspection, a mindset we should all strive to have. Then, as the head priest of the religious order entrenched in Rabona, he initiates that change at the greater societal level, turning Rabona into a sanctuary that welcomes all Claymores. I especially love that panel where he raises a hand of blessing to Galatea and says he wants to pray "for her and her wonderful companions." I found that incredibly touching. Those words must mean the world to Galatea, and to any Claymore if they heard. After all, they're so used to being dehumanized and reviled. Vincent is the perfect foil to the terrible men of the organization, second to Raki when it comes to showing empathy and compassion to Claymores and regarding them as more human than monster. Vincent sets a great example of what it means to be a decent human being, and just what it means to be human, to be capable of growth and change for the better. I'm sure we all want to be badass like the Claymores, but really we must try to be the Father Vincent in people's lives. You don't need yoma power to be an agent for good and change.

The measurable versus the immeasurable: In this world where only the strong survive, power and rank is everything. Or so it seems. Like I mentioned earlier, the organization is insidiously clever in using a ranking system to define the Claymores and keep them in line. Claymores have very few possessions to call their own: the emblem and armor they wear, the sword they wield, and the number they're given. Numbers are what separate and define them, what seem to give them identity, worth, and purpose. Enter Clare, the series protagonist, who flips a giant middle finger at all that. Unlike some Claymores who obsess over numbers (lookin' at you, pre-timeskip Helen), Clare doesn't let her low rank define or upset her. Mathematically and rationally speaking, with the flesh of a half yoma warrior, she's only a quarter yoma, therefore half the strength of a typical Claymore and the weakest of them all. Clare gives that rationale the middle finger too. What keeps her alive from beginning to end is her limitless, immeasurable, astounding courage and endurance that impressed Teresa from the beginning. And there's her great capacity to love and care for others. Love forged those strong, lasting bonds with Teresa and Raki. The lengths she went to save Jean inspired a loyalty like no other, and what leads to one of my favorite quotes in the series: "She saved my life. Her rank meant nothing then and it means even less to me now."

The Seven Ghosts embody true sisterhood allowed to flourish outside the confines and prying eyes of the organization. Living, hiding, and training together, sharing survivors' guilt from that massacre in Pieta, they are fueled by a drive that's far greater and more enduring than mere petty competition for ranks within the organization. They don't fight just to survive, but to honor the memory of their fallen comrades. Years later, those old ranks they were given mean nothing. The Ghosts become more than that, undefinable, and for all their strengths and weaknesses they come to regard each other as equals, as true friends and sisters ought to.

And finally, the most powerful manifestation of love is none other than Teresa and Clare, the twin goddesses who defeat the one horned monster. The organization had tried and failed many times to replicate that perfect synergy. They left out one important part of the equation. Clare and Teresa's love for each other makes their union a truly powerful thing that defies the limits and bounds of numbers and stats. Many times throughout the series, especially by men from the organization, it's brought up that Clare's true abilities and potential don't align with the number she was given. She's truly a wild card, defiant in the face of obeying the organization's rules and rationalities. It's human nature to assign numbers and ranks to things because we like to compartmentalize, but the real world is a lot messier than that. Clare is there to teach us that we are not defined by the numbers we earn or are given.

All of this is to say that the most important lesson I took away from Claymore is this: it's what you do for others that truly counts, not what others think of you. Love and compassion is enough to move the most powerful being in the entire series to tears.

[wifelinkmtg]

Wifelink: Murders! #sponsored

Welcome back to the best dumb idea I've ever had! Murder has come to the City of Guilds. Well, murder lives here, but it's crept out of the shadows, crawled up from the undercity, slunk through steam and oozed its way out of the breeding pools, and guild leaders are dropping like coins from a debtor's mouth. Who could be responsible? Who could be next? Who was that woman slipping furtively into an alley, and what's her deal? Is she single? Some of these questions and more will be answered on today's episode. Live from Ravnica, this... is Wifelink.

But first, a word from today's sponsor: picture this - it's your turn to host the monthly meeting of your true crime book club, and you maybe haven't finished Massacre: the true story of Ravnica's bloodiest killings and the woman behind them, and now you're trying to decide whether to finish it so you don't look like an idiot in the discussion group, or to spend time whipping up hors d'oeuvres so you don't have to serve everyone the same stupid veggies-and-ranch plate you did last time and suffer once more through Joanna's veiled disapproval. But what if I told you there was a way to get professionally-made charcuterie shipped directly to your home, leaving you the time you need to finish your last few chapters and craft a trenchant discussion question just in time for the doorbell? With Hello Flesh, it's just that easy: the incredible chefs at Hellbender will provide you with a mouthwatering selection of their finest meats: prosciutto, summer sausage, capicola, pastrami, and much, much more! Go to helloflesh dot com now, and sign up using offer code KNIFELINK to get your first month absolutely free! That's helloflesh dot com, offer code K-N-I-F-E-L-I-N-K. Hello Flesh: Don't ask where the meat comes from.

WAIT, WE'RE DOING RAVNICA? DIDN'T YOU SKIP A COUPLE SETS

What are you, Azorius? I've never felt any fondness for Eldraine, and I really didn't vibe with the new Ixalan set, so we're doing the Ravnica Murder Mystery set. I'm not going to do every single set that comes out or this will be my full-time job by 2026.

Cold Case Cracker (art by Wayne Wu)

Some things are very simple. Good cheekbones and the classic trench coat with the wide belt. I particularly enjoy the way her hair looks more like strips of fabric or parchment.

Merchant of Truth (art by Carissa Susilo)

"Goth angel" works on me every time, and this piece is particularly gorgeous - the composition and that dress, my goodness. You don't see a lot of angels from behind in Magic, on account of you would have to figure out what the anatomy and clothing situation is where the wings connect to the back, and Carissa has solved the clothing problem rather elegantly, and refused to engage with the anatomy problem at all. I can respect that.

I've never quite understood what's going on with Orzhov angels - I think they're mostly supposed to be disillusioned ex-Boros, but they don't really get much of a voice in story. You've got the flavor text on Angel of Despair, "it is as if their duty is to an empty void," but that's a quote from the most Boros of all the angels. Perhaps it's simply that the Orzhov don't labor under the same illusions as the other white-aligned guilds - the Boros and the Azorius and as we see in this story, even the Selesnya are all firmly entrenched in the idea that they stand for what's Right and Good on Ravnica, but ultimately they stand only for themselves and their own power and pre-eminence. The Orzhov, at least, make no secret of this. Maybe that's a comfort, to an angel.

Experiment Twelve (art by Michele Giorgi)

Oh baby girl the Simic fucked you right up, didn't they. Claws and scales and some sort of muzzle - do you feel like an animal, now? Do you hate what they did to you, or do you glory in your new sharpness? Did you escape, or are you on their leash? Are you hunted, or am I?

Bubble Smuggler (art by Leesha Hannigan)

This is Glovax. I've only had them for a day but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in the room and then myself.

Honestly I'm disconsolate that this isn't a real animal that exists in the world and that I'll never get to rescue one from an aquarium and have an octopus fish best friend for life. You know that soul-sick feeling you get when you remember that Anomalocaris has been extinct for 500 million years ago and that you will never be able to pet one? Yeah. Goddammit they're going to make this a pet on Arena and I will spend real earth dollars on it.

ALL THESE TENTACLES AND STILL THE BIGGEST SUCKER IS YOU. NOW MAKE WITH THE LEGENDARIES

Etrata, Deadly Fugitive (art by Livia Prima)

I have looked at a whole lot of Etrata art, and do you want to know my considered opinion? This outfit fucking rules. It's got one and a quarter sleeves, thirteen visible buckles, a circular collar that connects only at the sternum, and a clingy ankle-length skirt with a slit damn near up to the thigh to reveal more buckles. It is the least practical outfit I can imagine an assassin wearing short of an inflatable dinosaur costume but god, it looks like it's meant for deadly stealth, and I am in love. Etrata is broody and gorgeous and has a big knife and extraordinarily naked shoulders, and what else could you want?

Judith, Carnage Connoisseur (art by Jodie Muir)

A look specifically crafted to elicit "step on me mommy"s from the general public. I'm on record as saying that there's no way Judith does any sort of aftercare, so maybe have a Selesnya cleric on speed-dial if you're gonna run that risk.

Judith, Carnage Connoisseur (alternate art by Alex Dos Diaz)

I think Loxodon Hierarch is screening my calls.

Honestly, I would do stupid, stupid things for a pretty girl with red eyes, sharp nails and facial scarring. I'm not sure what kinds of things I would do for a pretty girl with gold flame decals on her arms, but based on prior evidence, they would probably also be extremely stupid.

Izoni, Center of the Web (art by Justine Cruz)

It's weird how people get locked in your memory at the point in time you knew them. You know you've changed a lot since then, and if you thought about it you'd agree other people might well also have changed, but you don't think about it, and then you run into an old friend or an ex and the things you knew them for, the things you've tied their memory to in your mind, aren't even still part of their life.

So Izoni, my beloved Izoni, Ravnica's foremost bug girl and finder of beetles, has moved on with her life in the past six years. She's into spiders now, that's her thing. She's a spider girl. And that's cool, spiders are cool, too, but the way this went in my head I was going to tell her about the mantis-riders of Tarkir and the dune-beetles of Amonkhet and the behavioral quirks of giant ants on Innistrad and now, instead, I'm not sure what to say. "You're looking well," I suppose, or something about, "so, leading the Swarm now? How's that going for you?"

Analyze the Pollen (art by Anna Christenson)

It's not even that big a change, really. Hardly noticeable. She still has that same intensity, that same curiosity. Her brows still furrow in concentration. She's still covered in crawling things, and she is still the most beautiful woman on Ravnica. Spiders or insects, what's the difference? All it means is that six years have passed. All it means is that the places and people you love continue to move in your absence. All it means is that you're both talking past each other to your echoes, to the people you used to know, who no longer exist. Time has eaten them both.

And if you, like time, get hungry, don't forget to use our affiliate code KNIFELINK at -

HEY. HELLO FLESH IS A RAKDOS JOINT, RIGHT

- in the middle of the ad read, dude?

YOU SAID HELLBENDER CHEFS DO THE CHARCUTERIE. THAT'S JUDITH'S PLACE

Yeah, what about it?

DO YOU THINK SHE'S GONNA BE GOOD WITH CONTENT SHE SPONSORED CALLING SOMEONE ELSE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN RAVNICA

Ah.

OR LIKE DO YOU THINK SHE'S GENERALLY COMFORTABLE SHARING THE SPOTLIGHT

...so thank you all so much for listening to this episode of Wifelink! I'm going to lay low for a bit, and if my body turns up face-down in an undercity canal, y'all know who did it.

[wholoveseggs]

~♡~Dating the Mikaelsons~♡~

One-Shot Edition

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

♡A date with Marcel♡

Marcel takes you out to see some live music and then charms your pants off.

In celebration of getting to one-hundred followers♡ I wrote some smutty one-shots based on my dating the mikaelsons headcanons.

♡ Thanks for all the love and support ♡

Warnings: smut, shower sex, fluff, this one is sweet & soft...

{Part One -Klaus} ♡ {Part Two - Kol} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

You stepped out of your building, approaching the waiting car. You were a little nervous and your heart began to race. You had been looking forward to this night for some time, and you chose your outfit to ensure you looked your best.

He got out and opened the car door for you, a wide, beautiful smile on his face.

"Gorgeous as ever," he greeted, his voice deep and smooth. You smiled back and climbed into the car as he returned to his side and began to drive. You sat beside him, watching the buildings pass by. You had no idea where he was taking you, and you didn't really care. Being in the car, his presence filling the space, you were just happy to be with him.

As the car pulled up to the curb, you smiled at his choice of venue.

"I've heard of this place; it has wonderful live music," you said as you exited the car. He walked up to your side.

"Only the best for my lady," he grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you inside.

The venue was dimly lit, tables spread across the room, with a small stage set in the corner. Soft jazz music filled the air, creating a cozy and romantic atmosphere. Marcel guided you to a table that was reserved for you, with a perfect view of the stage.

You settled into your seats, and he pulled out the chair for you, a gesture that made you feel special. The evening continued with delightful conversation, Marcel proving to be a charming companion with stories that captivated your attention.

As the live music continued, Marcel leaned in and whispered, "You're in for a treat. This band is amazing." The sultry tunes enveloped the room, and Marcel kept glancing over at you, making sure you were enjoying yourself.

After the performance, Marcel led you backstage, introducing you to the talented musicians. Each member greeted him warmly, their affection for him evident. Marcel's eyes gleamed with pride as he shared stories of their shared history and musical collaborations.

Leaving the venue, Marcel suggested, "How about we change the scene a bit?" With a mischievous smile, he drove you to a vibrant house party. The atmosphere was electric, pulsating with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses.

As you entered, partygoers greeted Marcel with genuine affection. You couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious amid the crowd who clearly adored him. Sensing your unease, Marcel pulled you closer.

"Everyone, meet the person who makes my nights brighter," he announced, his arm proudly wrapped around you. The room erupted in cheers and applause.

Your self-consciousness melted away in his warm gaze, replaced by the rising beat of your heart and the blushing warmth on your cheeks.

Hours flew by as you enjoyed your evening with him, immersed in conversation, music, and company, losing track of how long you stayed. Marcel bid his friends farewell as he prepared to take you home, having just one final destination in mind.

Gazing in amazement at the beautiful sights illuminated before you. The city lights sparkled against the clear night sky. Standing atop a high building, it was like the two of you had the city at your feet. Marcel took a step closer, gazing deep into your eyes.

"This wasn't what I expected when I agreed to go on a date with you, but this night was perfect," you murmured. Marcel placed a finger under your chin.

"You deserve only the best. I will make every night a special one," he smiled softly, gently pressing his lips to yours, leaving you breathless. "You wanna get out of here? I've been dying to get you out of that dress,"

Your face burned. "Yeah... let's go,"

Marcel chuckled at your reaction as he led you back to the car. He opened the door, allowing you inside, closing the door behind him. He quickly got into the driver's seat and sped off, back to the city streets.

As soon as you entered his place, Marcel pinned you against the wall, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss, his hands gripping your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He trailed his lips to your jaw, nipping gently, a moan slipping from your parted lips.

Your arms wound around his neck, fingers digging into his broad shoulders, urging him closer, pressing your body firmly against his. He groaned, his hands wandering your curves, trailing down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks, drawing another moan from you.

Breaking the kiss, he swiftly swept you up in his strong arms, carrying you to the bedroom, a smirk playing on his lips. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kicked the bedroom door open, laying you carefully on the bed.

He hovered above you, his dark eyes gleaming with desire, a low growl escaping him as he captured your mouth in another searing kiss. You moaned, your back arching, desperate for his touch. He slipped his hands underneath your dress, fingers gliding along your thighs, gripping your hips, lifting the skirt of your dress and tossing it aside.

You woke the next morning to rays of sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating Marcel's peaceful form beside you. Memories of last night flooded your thoughts, a smile spreading across your face. Gazing at his handsome features, you wanted nothing more than to wake up like this every day.

You got out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb him. You headed to bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping under the hot stream of water. Your thoughts wandered, replaying moments of last night, a blush creeping across your face. Lost in your thoughts, he silently opened the door, wrapping his arms around your waist. You gasped in surprise, relaxing into his embrace.

Marcel pressed a tender kiss to your neck. "Morning, beautiful,"

"Good morning," you replied, a smile playing on your lips. He rested his chin on your shoulder, a sweet smile on his face.

"Last night was amazing,"

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, remembering his touch, his warmth, the feel of his skin against yours. He pressed another soft kiss to your neck, nipping gently. You moaned, leaning back into his chest.

Marcel traced his fingers across your curves, his hands wandering lower, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples.

You turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck, gazing deeply into his dark eyes. He captured your mouth in a passionate kiss, pressing his hand against your abdomen, he gently pushed you up against the cool tile wall. His hands glided down your wet body, then lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist, his erection brushing against your thigh.

You trailed your fingers along his broad shoulders, exploring the hard planes of his muscular chest, a low groan escaping him as your hands wandered lower, wrapping your fingers around his cock, stroking his length. Marcel broke the kiss, growling, his eyes burning with desire.

He slowly guided himself inside you, a gasp slipping from your parted lips as he filled you completely. He buried his face in your neck, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin, drawing another moan from you.

The steamy water cascaded over your bodies as he increased his pace, thrusting deeper and harder, your moans echoing off the tile walls. He lifted his head, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss, muffling your cries of pleasure.

You dug your fingers into his shoulders, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he rolled his hips, your breasts pressed against his chest.

His hot, heavy breaths mixed with yours as his hips slammed against yours, moving faster, his thrusts growing sloppy and erratic, pushing you closer to your release.

Your body trembled, and your legs quivered, as you finally reached your climax, you let out a low moan, clenching around him, sending Marcel over the edge.

Breathing heavily, he reluctantly pulled out of you, carefully lowering your leg as he held your body against his, ensuring you had enough support to stand.

After regaining your senses, you stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, joining Marcel in the bedroom as he dried off and dressed, quickly buttoning his shirt, leaving a few of the top buttons undone.

He approached you, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He glanced at his watch, a frown crossing his lips.

"I hate to leave so soon, but I have business to attend to," he muttered, squeezing your hand gently.

"You can't take the morning off?" you pouted, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him softly. He smirked, allowing you to tug on his collar, pressing another kiss to his lips. "Just come back to bed for a little longer," you whispered against his lips.

He smiled and gave in, allowing you to pull him back to the bed, where the morning quickly melted into afternoon.

{Part One -Klaus} ♡ {Part Two - Kol} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

[sesskagarchive]

From the Archives: September 2024

banner by @jafndaegur

MissTeak

Dokuga | FFnet

Recommended by KillingPerfection143 & @kaoruhana08

"She has some really cool, funny, romantic SessKag fanfics and some others but I only read SessKag so.. and she apparently last uploaded something in 2010 or so. She has a well deserved right to be in this list. Her work needs to reach more people even though she's not active." - KillingPerfection143

"MissTeak was a huge contributor to the fandom in the late 2000's, early 2010's. She's actually the one who got me into SessKag. Her effortless way of creating so many scenarios for the pair left me breathless and I will always feel my heart ache for our favorite pair when I read Wisteria or Once Upon A Time in Edo." - @kaoruhana08

Recommended reading:

Happiest Christmas Rated T. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: Last Christmas, Sesshoumaru had been around to hold her hand. No matter how cold it got, he had the magical ability to warm her up from head to toe. They would stroll along the streets illuminated by merry Christmas lights that shone like a thousand amber gem stones. Today, she was walking alone, and had no idea how long she could take it. But Christmas never came without magic, or love, for that matter…

Happy Father's Day, Inupapa! Rated K. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: [Response to InuYoukaiLiz' Father's Day challenge] As they all say, Kagome is the only one who can make Sesshoumaru do anything and get away with it. This Father's day, just for Inupapa, her grand plan involves baking a chocolate fudge cake, a thank you speech and a hug…(Warning: Hilarity ahead at Sesshoumaru's expense.)

Happily Ever After Rated MA. From 2010-2011. Incomplete. Chapter fic. Summary: (1st place for Best Romance, Best Drama and Best AU/AR, Dokuga Awards 2nd Quarter 2010) Struggling to maintain her old family shrine, Higurashi Kagome could not be more thankful for the miracle that came in the form of a letter telling her that the Higurashi family owned forty percent of a traditional Japanese inn in Tsumago, Nagano prefecture. However, in exchange for the profits made by Shiraito inn, Kagome would have to marry the devastatingly handsome yet arrogant owner and serve as the inn's okami. Happily ever after? No way!

KH: "the only SessKag work that I would give arms and legs for her to finish. If you don't know me as an author, here's a secret: I never would have become half the writer I was without this story. The setting, the characters, the slow burn, the plot: even years later I see the influence of this strangers getting married trope in my writing. This is hands down, in my opinion" the best arranged marriage SessKag AU ever."

I knew you'd marry me Rated K. From 2010. One Shot. Summary: \"Higurashi Kagome!\" He had called out in his childish voice. \"You will marry me.\" Kagome takes a trip back on memory lane on her wedding day, recalling how her husband Sesshoumaru first proposed to her at the age of six, armed with nothing but a bunch of wilted daisies and a plastic pink ring from Toys R Us.

Jealous of you Rated K+. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: "Dearest Sesshoumaru, I've created a list of five reasons as to why I am jealous of you. 1) 'You have prettier hair'…" Kagome is jealous of her lovely husband, and the list goes on in this sweet little oneshot. Done for fun, joy and laughter! Please drown in the fluff!

Just turn around…and fall in love Rated T. From 2010. One Shot. Summary: Would you believe that love was just a turn away? A chance meeting at a high school carnival left them in each other's minds, but Fate had decided to play a little game with them in the modern city of Tokyo. She had always been around him, as he had always been around her, yet they have never met for a second time. Neither knew that all they had to do was turn around, and fall in love. (inspired by r0o's lovely fanart 'Separate Ways')

KH: "I love this oneshot of missed meetings. And I think this story over all others influenced my take on how to write SessKag as it shows a lovely modern take on SessKag."

Kinky Ramen Rated MA. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: 2nd place for Best Oneshot - Dokuga 4th Quarter Awards '09 (Response to Kirai's Funny Edible one shot challenge - rated for hot, hot sexual content and hilarity) All Kagome wanted to was to have sex in peace with her husband, but what was a couple to do when their little daughter was around? "Rin, Daddy and Mommy are going to eat ramen in our room now. Don't come upstairs."

Once upon an Edo night + The Sequel Rated MA. From 2009. Complete. Chapter fic. Summary: On a moonlit summer night in Edo, 1639, a famous courtesan from the Yoshiwara pleasure quarters met a demon lord in a bizarre chance meeting moments before she took her own life by jumping off the Nihonbashi. In modern Tokyo, 2009, Higurashi Kagome and Takahashi Sesshoumaru were strolling along the Nihonbashi when their entwined fates from 370 years ago, once upon an Edo night, came back in a crease in time to revisit them.

KH: "This is truly a second chances tale. The historical portion from Edo is full of angst and heartbreak and your heart aches for Kagome despite the smut. The modern portion makes you want to cheer on their reunion. Thevhistorical details are also very good."

Rumor has it Rated MA. From 2009-2010. Complete. Chapter fic. Summary: “I swear, Sesshoumaru is gay.” Inuyasha said dramatically amidst murmurs of agreement. “Totally! He never really talks to or looks at other women.” Kagome agreed excitedly. Inuyasha had replied, “But we have no proof.” And that’s how one conversation led to Higurashi Kagome being caught in a dare – to prove on Christmas that Taisho Sesshoumaru is gay. MissTeak\\'s three-chapter response to Kirai\\'s Christmas challenge!

KH: "is a hilarious take on Kagome making assumptions about Seshomaru and learning just how very wrong she is."

The Adventures of Chibimaru and Gang Rated K. From 2010-2013. incomplete. Drabble fic. Summary: The title says it all! A collection of MissTeak's attempts at cute, funny stories revolving around a six year-old Chibimaru and Gang in their daily lives. If you've enjoyed 'I knew you'd marry me', this is the one for you!

KH: "I think I go back to read this once a year because it leaves me in stitches. Trust me, we'll all want to know more about the little chaotic terror that is Sesshomaru after reading this."

The Third Parties Rated M. From 2009-2010. Complete. Chapter fic. Summary: [COMPLETED] "If I keep reminding myself of how wrong my feelings for her are, I might finally do something right." She was the third party in his half-brother's three-year relationship. He was merely a good friend. Watching her get hurt over and over again, Taisho Sesshoumaru wanted to tell Higurashi Kagome to let go. Yet he could not, not when he knows he could never let go of her just like how she could never let go of Inuyasha.

KH: "I love this one because I love the character growth we see for both characters as the story progresses, but mostly love how Kagome's is portrayed."

Wisteria Rated MA. From 2009-2010. Incomplete. Chapter fic. Summary: [1st for Best Drama and Best Romance - Dokuga Awards 1st Quarter '10] Wisteria is like the sleeve of a maiden, lovelier when it is cared for… Kagome was abducted and brought to Western Gion, where the famous flower streets are. By virtue of her pretty face, she was adopted into a geisha house and trained in the ways of a geisha under the name of Fuji, the Wisteria. Escape was not a option in this beautiful illusion, and Kagome found herself increasingly detached from her old life…until fate throws a figure of her past in her path again…

KH: "a must read for the heavy angst. It's never been completed but it pulls at your heartstrings and doesn't let you go."

XXX-ing in Bed Rated M. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: [Oneshot] A sweet, sexy oneshot exploring our favorite couple's life after marriage! Ever imagined how their married life is like? Especially in bed? What do they exactly do in bed in the privacy of their home?

Recommend a creator who's no longer active in the SessKag fandom for this monthly spotlight HERE!

[mariana-oconnor]

His Last Bow

Hey Tumblr,

I have 0 idea what happens in this story. Kind of hoping it's a bit like Curtain, the last Poirot story, because that's a bop. Well, it's very depressing, but I love the solution. Although I also really hope it isn't, because then Agatha Christie would have copied that and I really don't want that to be the case.

I also really want ACD to have done something insanely over the top and decisive to make it really clear that this time there would be no retconning. Like... idk, the world being invaded by aliens. Sherlock Holmes stealing the crown jewels and being executed for treason. Mycroft turning out to have been a double agent all along and destroying the entire British Empire.

I'm no longer feverish, although my lungs are still trying to propel themselves out of my body in a way that keeps leaving me a little asphyxiated, so that's fun. But no jellyfishifters this time I expect. Or sea turtles... Yeah, Idk either.

It was nine o'clock at night upon the second of August—the most terrible August in the history of the world.

Oh Watson, you sweet summer child. I bet I've seen worse Augusts. Even if Holmes does die in this one.

The sun had long set, but one blood-red gash like an open wound lay low in the distant west.

London... is now... a hellmouth?

Are we not in London? Is that the city from a distance. Where are we? Why is the sky split open? What is going on?

The two famous Germans stood beside the stone parapet of the garden walk...

The only two famous Germans. Ever. You know... those two.

Oh, so we're actually in the 'Sherlock is a spy' period. Weirdly I assumed that that was only going to be referenced. But no, we're actually going there.

So the red line is... the war front?

One of these was his present companion, Baron Von Herling, the chief secretary of the legation, whose huge 100-horse-power Benz car was blocking the country lane as it waited to waft its owner back to London.

Is the Baron compensating for something? Maybe.

But we're not in London and we're not near the war front, so... what is that red slash in the sky. Is it London?

This is probably not the mystery I am meant to be trying to solve. I should pay more attention to the espionage and less to the environs.

“They are not very hard to deceive,” he remarked. “A more docile, simple folk could not be imagined.”

Someone has not been down the pub when the home team is playing. Hoo boy. Docile is not a word I would use...

"One's first impression is that they are entirely soft. Then one comes suddenly upon something very hard, and you know that you have reached the limit and must adapt yourself to the fact."

That is, indeed, what she said.

“Meaning British prejudice in all its queer manifestations."

Oh boy. I don't think you mean what I'd mean by those words, but yet you have still brought upon me a great sense of national shame and wincing.

"I was invited to a week-end gathering at the country house of a cabinet minister. The conversation was amazingly indiscreet.”

Given the general level of OpSec shown by government workers, bankers, and just... everyone within these stories, I cannot say that this surprises me. I'm disappointed, but not surprised. The majority of government people we have met have been entire and total imbeciles in the matter of privacy, data protection and general best practices regarding secrecy.

“No, no, don't call it a pose. A pose is an artificial thing. This is quite natural. I am a born sportsman. I enjoy it.”

Ugh, I hate this guy.

“And all the time this quiet country house of yours is the centre of half the mischief in England, and the sporting squire the most astute secret-service man in Europe. Genius, my dear Von Bork—genius!”

I will say, they're commenting on other people not being discreet, and here they are just laying out everything without even a hint of subtlety. Using people's names. confirming their identities, confirming their true purposes. Unless this, in itself, is a subterfuge... They're not at a party, at least, I suppose.

“You flatter me, Baron. But certainly I may claim my four years in this country have not been unproductive. I've never shown you my little store. Would you mind stepping in for a moment?”

This all feels very Cask of Amontillado, don't you think?

Is Van Bork Sherlock?

He then closed the door behind the bulky form which followed him and carefully adjusted the heavy curtain over the latticed window. Only when all these precautions had been taken and tested did he turn his sunburned aquiline face to his guest.

Oh. My. God. Did someone just use basic security protocols to prevent someone from listening or looking in on them? Be still my beating heart. I might faint.

I am so confused about who is speaking right now. I need more dialogue tags. I have lost track. These two have merged into one very confused spy with multiple personalities. Or maybe just two heads. I don't know.

“Out of date and waste paper. The Admiralty in some way got the alarm and every code has been changed."

If that wasn't Sherlock or Mycroft, then I don't know who it was because every time the Admiralty has been in these stories they have been incompetent to the point of deliberate treason.

Will come without fail to-night and bring new sparking plugs. — —Altamont.

Is Altamont Holmes?

“You see he poses as a motor expert and I keep a full garage. In our code everything likely to come up is named after some spare part. If he talks of a radiator it is a battleship, of an oil pump a cruiser, and so on. Sparking plugs are naval signals.”

I take back that gif from earlier. Don't tell people the code words. Good grief, man! You've just compromised all of those phrases. I get that you're providing exposition for the audience, but still. STILL.

"I assure you that our most pan-Germanic Junker is a sucking dove in his feelings towards England as compared with a real bitter Irish-American.”

Fair.

...at a touch from the Baron's chauffeur the great car shivered and chuckled.

Is the car alive? I don't like this description.

“Those are the lights of Harwich, I suppose,” said the secretary, pulling on his dust coat.

THANK YOU!

It's Harwich... No hellmouth, just Harwich. Mystery solved.

"The heavens, too, may not be quite so peaceful if all that the good Zeppelin promises us comes true."

Oh, you mean the bustle in the hedgerow? No... don't be alarmed about that. It's just a spring clean for the May Queen. Or if you're talking about the piper, he's just leading us to reason. It's really nothing to be worried about.

...beside it, seated at a table, was a dear old ruddy-faced woman in a country cap. She was bending over her knitting and stopping occasionally to stroke a large black cat upon a stool beside her. “That is Martha, the only servant I have left.” The secretary chuckled. “She might almost personify Britannia,” said he, “with her complete self-absorption and general air of comfortable somnolence."

Is Martha Holmes?

Honestly, that makes a lot of sense.

Or Holmes could be the kitty cat.

It was a new experience to him, the silence and darkness of his widespread house, for his family and household had been a large one. It was a relief to him, however, to think that they were all in safety and that, but for that one old woman who had lingered in the kitchen, he had the whole place to himself.

DANCE PARTY TIME

“You can give me the glad hand to-night, mister,” he cried. “I'm bringing home the bacon at last.”“The signals?”“Same as I said in my cable. Every last one of them, semaphore, lamp code, Marconi—a copy, mind you, not the original."

No. No. No.

This is not how you do a treasonous handover of government secrets. I don't care how empty you think the goddamned house is. You don't say the actual thing. YOU USE THE CODEWORDS. THIS IS WHY YOU HAVE CODES. YOU UTTER NUMPTIES!

Fuck you both. You're morons. What even is this? This isn't espionage. This is slapstick.

Good lord.

I... I despair.

I guess if you're this good at it, then it's no wonder that even the bloody Admiralty managed to get a clue.

Mycroft's probably been feeding you information for years, you muppets.

It's the incompetence that gets to me, it really is. If you're going to be moustache twirling evil German spies then at least have the self-respect and decency to be good at it.

This is pathetic.

The Irish-American had entered the study and stretched his long limbs from the armchair. He was a tall, gaunt man of sixty, with clear-cut features and a small goatee beard which gave him a general resemblance to the caricatures of Uncle Sam. A half-smoked, sodden cigar hung from the corner of his mouth, and as he sat down he struck a match and relit it.

Oh yeah, this is Holmes, isn't it?

You couldn't even pretend to be good at being a traitor?

“So it's not quite as simple as you thought. It was four years ago that I had it made, and what do you think I chose for the word and figures?”

O

h

m

y

g

o

d

Tell me you're not about to do what I think you're about to do.

Please.

Tell me you have one braincell in your tiny head. PLEASE. You cannot be this dumb. YOU CANNOT BE!

“Well, I chose August for the word, and 1914 for the figures, and here we are.”

And you're being dumb by trying to show off how smart you are. That's the worst kind.

“How could they have got on to Steiner?” he muttered. “That's the worst blow yet.”

You literally just told a man your safe combination. I don't know what to tell you, my dude. Maybe you're just bad at this.

Then he sat dazing for a moment in silent amazement at a small blue book which lay before him. Across the cover was printed in golden letters Practical Handbook of Bee Culture. Only for one instant did the master spy glare at this strangely irrelevant inscription. The next he was gripped at the back of his neck by a grasp of iron, and a chloroformed sponge was held in front of his writhing face.

“Another glass, Watson!” said Mr. Sherlock Holmes as he extended the bottle of Imperial Tokay. The thickset chauffeur, who had seated himself by the table, pushed forward his glass with some eagerness.

Didn't call the chauffeur being Watson. Discounted him as Holmes for being too thickset. I guess since it's indicated Watson might have written this one I should have thought about Watson as well. Genuinely didn't think he'd be in this one, though.

"There is no one in the house except old Martha, who has played her part to admiration."

So Martha was working for Holmes this whole time. I think she wins the prize for being the best spy in the story.

"I shall no doubt reappear at Claridge's to-morrow as I was before this American stunt—I beg your pardon, Watson, my well of English seems to be permanently defiled—before this American job came my way.”

Oh no! Holmes used the word 'stunt' how scandalously unEnglish of him!

"The fact is, Watson, that this gentleman upon the sofa was a bit too good for our people."

Guess the Admiralty is worse than even I gave them credit for.

The last remark was addressed to Von Bork himself, who after much gasping and blinking had lain quietly listening to Holmes's statement. He broke out now into a furious stream of German invective, his face convulsed with passion.

No... no... Holmes. You're not monologuing in front of the enemy prisoner. Don't do that. I believed in you.

"And yet I live and keep bees upon the South Downs.”

...don't tell him where you live...

I give up.

“And most of that information came through you,” he cried. “What is it worth? What have I done? It is my ruin forever!” “It is certainly a little untrustworthy,” said Holmes. “It will require some checking and you have little time to check it. Your admiral may find the new guns rather larger than he expects, and the cruisers perhaps a trifle faster.”

god fucking dammit

Why are you telling him about the misinformation? The misinformation is meant to misinform. That's why it's called misinformation. You're undoing half of the work you did.

I... guys... guys, I just can't.

“My dear sir, if you did anything so foolish you would probably enlarge the two limited titles of our village inns by giving us ‘The Dangling Prussian’ as a signpost. The Englishman is a patient creature, but at present his temper is a little inflamed, and it would be as well not to try him too far."

Did he just threaten Van Bork with hanging. By referencing a possible pub name? A+ threat, but yikes.

The two friends chatted in intimate converse for a few minutes, recalling once again the days of the past, while their prisoner vainly wriggled to undo the bonds that held him.

They just... they just left him alone.

And went and had a chat.

I don't even know why I thought they'd drive him away immediately. Why would they?

"I have a check for five hundred pounds which should be cashed early, for the drawer is quite capable of stopping it if he can.”

Such a weird line to end this on. OK then Holmes. Go cash your cheque.

And that was the last of the short stories... It didn't quite have the same poignancy as Curtain. But it certainly gave me a lot to talk about.

This has been a really fun year and I've loved writing these up - and spending far too long finding gifs and sometimes making my own memes when I couldn't find the precise thing I needed to say.

If you've read all of these, I have no idea why, but Hi! 2023 was certainly a year, wasn't it? Thanks to all of you. It's been really fun reading comments and learning things when people added to the notes to answer questions I'd asked.

I hear we're doing the novels next year. I have definitely actually read all of those. But I do get them all mixed up, and I will have forgotten a lot of them. I think I also signed up for another substack, but right now I can't even remember which one. That'll be a fun surprise.

Hope you all had a good, or at least not terrible, 2023. And I hope we all have a better 2024.

Happy (almost) New Year!