#she lives here. he lives in another state. originally the plan was for him to move here

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Crazy development in my life

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

WORDS: 1994

RATING: E

PAIRING: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

SUMMARY: Gale's perspective on how his lovely little ring went while he was all alone, watching Tav through his projection's eyes (part i part ii)

TAGS: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), f/m, voyeurism, Gale using magic for naughty reasons, masturbation

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Some of the most gifted, magically academic minds were in this hall right now. And all they could do was argue about table settings.

Gale sighed and stood up from his chair with his drink. Already tuning out the lively debate about Faerûn midcentury design and how one professor could tell that its wood was clearly Zazesspur from the pre-capital era, while another professor stated she was clearly being absurd as the lines in the wood were obviously from a wood in a much more norther region like Neverwinter.

He left his wife home alone for this?

Gale left the company of his fellow academics for his quarters. No one seemed to notice. There was a time when Gale himself would have been immersed in the lively debate along with his other book beaters. Sparing wits and parring with obscure contextual footnotes for no other reason than to prove they were the smartest in the room. It all seemed so trivial now.

Once you’ve brushed against death, not once but twice, and fought the destruction of the world with your bare hands, academic strife seemed…pointless. Absolutely pointless. Like the rest of this week had been.

When he originally received the invitation for the summit, Gale had been overjoyed. Honored, more like. To be recognized as a man of distinction at the school he held so dear, in education in general, for only just starting was a great achievement for him, he felt. Now he wonders if it was just that no one wanted to go, because it was so boring.

He wished that he could have just projected his consciousness here, like Tav suggested, so he could be home with her now. With his much better wine and much less blow-harded company.

The door to his quarters clicked into place behind him and Gale sighed at the quiet. Enjoying it for just a moment, until he opened his eyes and saw just the small desk, by his small bed, in his small room, with his small window. Oh to be home…..

Gale took a seat at the desk as he wasn’t quite ready for bed. He sat his wine down. His magic lighting the few lamps in the room for him to see as he debated about reading or reviewing the agenda plan for tomorrow in want of something to do.

Then his eyes caught a glint of the ring resting on the oak (or was it Neverwinter ashe?) and picked it up. A gift from his wife. One of those spontaneous, no reason, ‘I was down by the market & I thought you would like it’ kind of gifts. Gale smiled wistfully at the memory of her giving it to him. And he thought he was the romantic out of the two of them.

His thumb brushed against the smooth silver. Admiring it, like he wished he could be admiring her right now. This was the longest he and his beloved had been apart since they got married. A few days here and there, but nothing this consecutive nor extensive. Gale doesn’t like it.

He tries not to be obsessive with his love, but when Gale loves he loves passionately. And Tav has been a big part of his life ever since she pulled him out of that misbehaving portal. They’ve built a life together. She’s the first person he wants to tell everything about his day, and eager to hear what she’s been up to when they were apart. And at night...well, let’s just say that it was a good thing this place had the option for bracing cold baths in the morning.

Gale examines the ring further as his teeth pull in his bottom lip. ‘I wonder if it will work’ He mused to himself as he pondered on a spell he had created a few months back but never put into practice.

It started out purely from an academic standpoint. He wanted to make that very clear! Just a simple…trans configuration experiment on magically linking two objects together and see what the effects would be. He hadn’t intended for it to turn into a sort of randy parlor trick, but he had impulse control issues.

Setting the ring down, Gale recalled the simple incantation and gesture needed for the spell. Focusing his magic and the Weave to press not just into the ring but also link to his beloved. He hoped Mystra had her back turned for a moment while he cast this one.

Spell incantation done, Gale picked up the ring and gave it a small nudge. Nothing happened. He supposed that should be obvious. The effects would be on the other side of the link and not here with him. Gale tried it again, hoping to feel some kind of magical sense of confirmation, but still nothing.

Humming to himself in befuddlement, Gale looked over at the clock in his room and did some quick math. It was almost 2:30 in Waterdeep. Which meant that it was almost time for his normal office hours at the academy. Perfect. If Tav was there, which he was certain she would be as she was dutiful to a fault, then Gale knew exactly where they were, and he could see if his ‘gift’ was working out well for her.

Calling on the Weave again, Gale focused his consciousness and perception to separate from him and fly back home to Waterdeep. Silently wishing it was that easy for him. When his projection landed, and the mental link between them righted into a clear picture, Gale’s mouth went slack as he saw Tav. "Gods above...." Her cheeks were flushed. Her breath panting. Her body in clear stages of pleasure as her hands braced herself on his desk. Gods! What he wouldn’t give to be there right now to make love to her on that definitely Sword Coast mahogany.

“Hello there!”

Tav’s head jerked up at his projections greeting, and Gale groaned at the wild look in her eyes. Surprise first, but then bridled arousal. Just waiting to be unbridled and throw her into loss, but his dutiful love was well aware she was still in public and in a school.

When she spat an accusatory remark about him doing this to her and Gale touched the stone of the ring now on his hand. He watched Tav’s knees quake in response. It worked. Oh....goody.

He moaned in tandem with her image but then told his specter to tell her what was going on. Gale didn’t want to leave her in the dark. Tav seemed to accept this, but then asked about all the practicalities of him doing this at work and getting caught. Wouldn’t that be a shame?

He tells his image to tell her about his office hours and the locked down, then moaned along with her as her hold finally became unbridled and she fell into his chair. Limbs asunder as she just accepted what was happening to her and gave into the pleasure.

Gale continued to touch the stone with one hand, while the other went to his belt and quickly undid it. He’s been hard since he first saw her against his desk. Now seeing her give loose to the pleasure, Gale might cum in his pants like he was a novice back in school and Gods could you imagine if he had someone like Tav for a teacher?? He’d still be in his Active Principles of Elements & Arcane lectures.

His hand stroked his erection with the same speed as his massaged the stone. “Tell her I’m happy she likes my present.” He orders his projection. Watching her through their eyes. It did as it was told and Tav opened her eyes to stare right back into them. Gale moaned. The heat in her eyes, the desire, that cheeky grin coiling on her lips almost make him double over against his own desk.

“My present, eh?” Tav answered back, and Gale bit his lip so hard he nearly tasted blood.

“Yes. Of course. I did this for you.”

The projection relayed his response, but that doesn’t seem to convenience Tav. “Just for me?” Gale watched, transfixed, as his beloved began to open her blouse ‘in front of him’.

He whimpered at the sight as his thumb brushed over the aching red tip of his cock. He had to swallow the drool collecting in his mouth before he could respond with, “yes” for his projection to repeat. But the damn thing went rouge and blurted out his secret, so he pressed his thumb harder against this stone to distract Tav from its honesty.

Soon, Tav was begging him to fuck her. Desperate and needy. Mewling like a wanton kitten; or maybe that was just him. She asked if his projection was anatomically correct like last time and before it could fully answer, Gale ordered, “no!” He didn’t want to watch an illusion of himself make love to his wife. It was silly to be jealous of a projection of himself, that he created, but Gale wouldn’t have it.

If he couldn't have her, no one could. Not even his illusions.

Tav whined and looked ready to just do it herself. Gale gulped as he watched her hand move to the front of her pants, prepared to slide down and--Gale gripped the base of his cock to stop himself from cumming. He wants them to cum together, but it seemed rude to have Tav finish herself off.

Conjuring all the magic he could, Gale used the mind’s eye of his projection to summon Mage Hands. They touch her everywhere he wanted to, all at once. Tav seemed delighted, although overstimulated. He would have to remember that for later. Her delicate sweet hands gripping the armrests of his chair as her body arched and bucked against the hands. Gale watching it all as he jerked himself closer and closer to the edge. “Tav…!” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he had to say it. Almost a reflex at this point as he came.

His hand was a mess. Portions of his desk splattered with it too. Cold baths only negated the symptoms, not the cause. So he was quite backed up since coming here.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

Gale and Tav look up at the projections ask. Taking it upon itself to check in on her. What a good little ghost.

She told it yes, and Gale felt his cock twitch at the look in her eyes. Perfectly sated and happy, but still that glimmer of ‘more’. He tells the projection to let Tav know that the door would be opening soon, and she should get righted with herself; lest they be discovered. She made a very clever retort about him deciding to do this here if he was so concerned, which made him smile and love her all the more.

Gods how he missed her.

“Ask her if she would like to do this again tonight. When we're at home, and a little more private.”

The projection did as it was told, and Gale groaned as Tav bit her lip before giving an enthusiastic yes. Then, Gale severed the link, and he was alone again. Alone with only his hand and his memories.

He cleaned himself off and thought about going back downstairs for a final nightcap, as he was too riled up still to sleep. But when he opened the door, and heard the architecture debate still going on, only now they had switched to stone, Gale closed the door and rested his head on whatever cheap wood this terrible door was made out of.

He had to get out of here. He had to go home.

So he spent the rest of the evening coming up with a clever plan and semi-lie about how his wife needed him. “Emergency. Unavoidable. Must get home before my wife spontaneously combusts…without me. Should probably leave that last part out.”

[miniy00ng1]

Die With A Smile

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1447 (not proofread)

warnings: swearing, death, lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiii lovelies! i absolutely love the song die with a smile and felt it fit super well with tua, so this is the outcome. i actually had two separate ending ideas for this fic, so if you'd like me to release the alternate ending (it's a happy ending) lmk in the comments. as usual pls ignore any grammar errors and i hope you enjoy! thank you <3

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The Hargreeves Siblings and their families are gathered in the broken down Umbrella Academy. After fighting the giant hybrid monster, Ben and Jennifer, that is consuming everything and everyone in its path, the siblings are trying to come up with a plan of action. 

Five, your husband, has disappeared back to the subway station where he spent several years trapped with you with little hope on finding a way back home. He left in hopes to find something that he might’ve overlooked, a solution to the cleanse. He left you behind to help care towards his injured siblings and in hopes that you could be the brains while he was gone. 

“How the hell do we beat a thing that keeps getting stronger and bigger everytime we try and fight it?” Diego asks in exasperation. The siblings pace the living area trying to figure out how to beat the monster. “It’s only a matter of time before it consumes everything and the world ends…again.” Viktor states matter-of-factly.

At this time, Five blinks into the living room and his eyes immediately finds yours–there’s a look in his eyes of realization and acceptance. You get off the couch and make your way to him, interlocking fingers and giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

“I went back to the subway station and had a very long and strange conversation with me…well multiple mes. But anyways, we are the reason why all of this is happening,” Five continues to explain to his siblings how they should have never existed but they do and that they have caused a shattered timeline. “That must’ve been what Ben was trying to show me back at the department store, he showed me the original timeline. He was trying to tell me that maybe, the cleanse isn’t a bad thing.” Viktor says, recalling the serene scene that was the original timeline. 

Five recaptures his siblings’ attention, “We have to let the Durango merge with the Cleanse. It’s the only way to fix the timeline…” “And what happens to us?” “We cease to exist.” Five replies to Diego’s question, leaving everyone in the room too stunned to speak.

“Absolutely not Five,” Your words come out shaky, “There’s got to be another way.” “Yeah! I’m with Y/N. It turns out, I don’t actually like dying all that much.” Klaus says agreeing with you. Five looks at you with hurt in his eyes, he would never willingly leave you but there’s no other way to save the world. “Y/N, I’ve been through every possible outcome, there’s nothing we can do to stop this. My siblings and I should’ve never existed in the first place. We don’t belong here, we never did.” Your eyes well up with tears, “But you guys do belong, you’re my family, you’re my love Five. If you’re not here, I don’t belong in the timeline either.” Five shakes his head at your words.

“What about our families Five? What happens to them if we cease to exist? Diego asks glancing towards to other room where his children reside. “I’m not sure.” Five says defeated while tightening his grip on your hand. The siblings look at each other unsure of what to do. Allison sits up from the couch, still clutching her stomach from her injuries, “What about that train station? Can you bring them there? Y/N could go with them and make sure they’re safe since she’s been to the station before.” Before Five can answer, Claire enters the room, rushing to her mom.

Five brings you to the side of the room for a little bit of privacy. No words are exchanged as he pulls you into his embrace, his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tight as if you would disappear from his arms. You feel your neck dampen, this is your breaking point. Tears stream down your cheeks as you push your face into Five’s chest, trying to get as close to him as possible. Sobs rack your body, you begin to hiccup as your breathing becomes uneven. 

Five tries to pull away to get you to breathe. You sob harder pulling him tighter, “Just hold me for a little while longer. Please Five, just hold me.” Five responds by cradling you in his arms, placing a gentle kiss on you head, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I love you so much. I wish there was another way.”

The Umbrella Academy is a mess of emotions as the siblings say goodbye to their loved ones and accept their fate. You stand with Claire and Lila and Diego’s family waiting for Five to blink you to the subway station. You wave to the siblings that you have grown to know and love so much. Five grabs your hand and blinks the group out of the house. 

“Okay everyone, follow me onto the train, we’re going on a little trip!” You try to put a fake smile on your face to ease the nerves of Diego and Lila’s children. You guide the group onto the train, ensuring that everyone got on before you. After stepping on you turn to face the train door, Five is standing there with a sad smile on his face. The only thing separating you two is a solid yellow line on the platform. The strange announcement that you’ve heard a number of times before goes off over the PA system. You’re heart begins to race, the doors are going to close any second now and this will be the last time you ever see Five. He continues to stare at you.

The doors begin to make noise, signalling that they’re going to close. Your eyes quickly glance between the closing doors and Five. Five’s eyes widen as he realizes what you’re about to do but it’s too late to stop you. Five instead catches you as you stumble into his arms, “What did you just do Y/N?” “I told you earlier Five, you’re my everything. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. If you’re not with me in the original timeline…what’s the point? The world is ending, I want to be next to you.”

Upon your return to the Umbrella Academy, the Hargreeves are shocked to say the least. “Are they safe? Did they make it?” Lila bombards you with questions. You nod in response and she wraps you in her arms, thanking you. “So…what do we do now? Should we say our favorite moments with each other?” Luther asks awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot as nerves surge through his body. Everybody shoots down Luther’s ideas and elects to just sit and wait. 

You and Five are seated on a couch, he holds you tight. He wouldn’t say it but he was scared shitless. You read him like a book and bring your lips to his ear, “It’ll be okay Love. I’m right here with you and I wouldn’t change my decision.” He turns his head to look at you and gives you a kiss that says everything he needs to. 

Suddenly, a shrill screech and crash can be heard outside the house. “You guys! I think he’s coming and I don’t think he’s happy.” Luther calls out while looking at the large monster approaching. Five grips your hand and stands up at the announcement. You and the Hargreeves move away from the window and form a circle on the other side of the living room. The monster hybrid’s tentacle-like appendages bust throught the glass window by the front door first. Then the window by the main stairway. In no time the tentacles were approaching the siblings from every angle.

“Relax and just let it do what it wants.” Five calls out to his siblings as the tentacles begin to reach their feet. Five looks at your intertwined hands and smiles, “I know I was a hardass, but I really do love you guys, as much as you do drive me crazy.” “Ew Five, I know we’re dying or whatever but don’t get all sappy on us now.” Lila says with fake disgust. “Thank you for letting me be in your crazy family. I love you guys so much.” You chime in, a tear slipping down your face. Lila reaches out to grab your left hand. Tears are now streaming down everyones faces as they hold hands with one another. The tentacles now enveloping up to their stomachs and climbing higher and higher.

You turn your head to look at Five and he mirrors your movements. It is now up to your chin and before you world goes dark, you’re able to make out Five’s final three words–said with a smile.

taglist:

@ohmyitsfaith @clairoscharm

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 5]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Four

➨ Chapter Five

Next: Coming Soon...

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

A/N: Hold onto your britches, this chapter is chock-full of our Big Boss of Hell! Also, my sincerest apologies for the slight cliffhanger last chapter. Fingers crossed it doesn’t happen again!

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER FIVE

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him.

The man took a step forward and you promptly launched a ladle at him, backpedaling behind the couch as he dodged it. You huffed when it only missed by a hair.

A plethora of household items were strewn about the hardwood floors of the foyer. Books, spray bottles, spoons (you broke into the crate containing the unpacked kitchenware in search of more ammo), etc. were scattered further and further away from their original home as you used them as a way of keeping him a safe distance from you.

“Please, put the skillet down,” he said, inching closer and closer to you, hands outstretched.

If he thought he could trick you into giving up your only form of defense, he was sorely mistaken.

“Stay back!” you hissed, grabbing a wrought iron skillet you had chucked at him earlier. He could try all he wanted to get at you, eat you, skin you, auction you off on the black market… You simply refused to let him have you without a fight.

“I’m not—” He was taking another step towards you but paused as you readied your weapon. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eyed him for a moment before taking a long, deep breath. Seeing that as a sign that you were trying to settle down, he carefully came closer.

Thunk!

A single swing of the skillet sent him toppling over.

He may have been your newfound friend’s father, but you were not going to roll over and show your belly in the face of potential danger. Being a parent did not make a person automatically worthy of your trust.

“Okay,” he said in a pained tone, slowly sitting up with a slight sway to him. “That’s fine...”

He crawled onto the couch, slouching over and cradling his head where you had made contact. Without lowering your weapon, you put yourself on the other side of the couch, standing at the arm and watching him very carefully.

The two of you remained silent as he rubbed at his growing welt.

It was awkward…

Why were you actually starting to feel bad about defending yourself? The guy had jump scared you and wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone when you were clearly panicked. He just kept following you, insistent on getting you to calm down but giving you no good reason to.

Honestly, what kind of logic was that? That’s like pelting beach balls at a child with a crippling fear of spherical objects and expecting them not to flinch just because you said it won’t hurt them.

If he wanted you to feel less threatened, he could have just planted his ass on the ground and waited for you to come to him like a stray cat.

“You weren’t supposed to arrive until this afternoon,” you stated.

“Right…um,” he said, looking off to the side, “You know, I just didn’t have much planned this morning, and it worked a bit better for me to come earlier—”

“Charlie told you she wouldn’t be here.” Your eyes narrowed. You knew he was making shit up, and you wanted him to know that you knew. If he wanted to beat around the bush, you would be delighted to become more proficient with the skillet.

“Right again!” The hand that cradled the side of his head moved to rub at his eyes as he sighed. After retracting his hand, he turned to face you, propping an elbow on the backrest of the couch. His eyes ran up and down your body, fully taking you in without your costume, which caused you to shift uncomfortably. Whether or not you were recognizable to him as the ‘demon’ he had already met was still to be determined. “You’re an odd duck, you know that?”

You shot him an incredulous look.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said, jerking his head in your direction. “Showing up all caked in makeup or paint or whatever it is you people wear nowadays. You and Charlie were being painfully suspicious!”

“So, you decided to sneak in when you knew she would be away? To snoop?” you asked, putting a hand on your hip. “You know that’s breaking and entering, right?”

“I am her father,” he scoffed.

“And that makes it okay? If I called to tell her you let yourself in, you think she’d be fine with it?”

“You’re going to snitch?!” his voice went a pitch higher, and he scooted to the edge of his seat.

You took a step back, tightening your grip on the skillet.

“Maybe.”

You had no way of ‘snitching’ on him to Charlie. Your phone was fried, and even then, you weren’t too sure that your provider would have coverage in Hell. And to top it off, you didn’t even have her number…but he didn’t need to know that.

He rolled his eyes, grumbling something to himself as he crossed his arms.

“Why didn’t she just tell me you were human?” he asked no one in particular, throwing his arms out. “That is what you are, correct? In all my years, I have never seen a sinner nor hellborn look as human as you do.”

“Yeah, well…Charlie thought you might freak out if you knew,” you said.

He looked taken aback by that explanation before beginning to sputter.

“Freak—freak out? Because you’re human? I married a human. Her mother was a human!” His hands were waving around as he gestured along with his words.

“We didn’t really want to take any chances…” you said slowly, head tilted away but eyes still locked onto him. “The last time a demon saw me, I was nearly torn to shreds…or eaten alive… I’m not sure exactly what they had planned for me, but it didn’t seem like it’d be pleasant.”

“No, I can’t imagine it would be,” he sighed as he straightened out his hair.

This guy didn’t give two shits, did he?

He snapped his fingers and, with a plume of sparkling smoke, his top hat appeared in his hands. It had previously been about ten feet away on the floor from when you had knocked him upside the head. 

“Now just how did you stumble into Hell without the minimum requirement of death?” he asked as he brushed invisible dirt from his hat before placing it back on with a few adjustments.

“That’s a great question,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’ve got a friend who thought it would be a good idea to try to summon a demon. Obviously, they screwed up, ‘cause it sent me here instead.”

He cackled, and you stood there with a blank expression, cheeks growing hot. Why you were feeling embarrassed over something you had no control over, you weren’t sure.

Well, come to think of it, you did have a bit of control over whether or not Devon had the essential, hard-to-acquire ingredient needed to make the whole thing happen in the first place. Maybe it was karmic justice for your pulling unethical shenanigans in the workplace.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, so they say,” he said, shooting you a shit-eating grin.

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away. 

“No, wait–don’t leave!”

You ignored him. Since he was there, you might as well give him his shit back. You would have preferred it to be under different circumstances, such as those where you still had your disguise as a buffer or Charlie returning them in your place (because you’d be back home safe and sound). 

But there was no better time than the present, so they say.

You put down the skillet and grabbed the stack of books by the front reception area where you left them after being thoroughly disappointed by their contents. It appeared that Charlie’s father followed you over, as you turned around to find him looking over your shoulder to see what you picked up.

Lord have mercy on your heart.

“Okay, you have to stop that!” you scolded, taking a quick step back.

“Stop what?” he asked with a look of pure innocence.

“Popping up behind me and shit! Somebody needs to put a bell on you or something. Every time you show up out of nowhere, it gives me a goddamn heart attack,” you said, shoving the stack of books into his arms. “Here.”

“What–”

“The books you lent me. We were hoping to find something that could help me get back home but they’re all kinda…not helpful for that,” you explained, toying with a strand of your hair.

“That’s why you and Charlie were there?” he said, looking down at the books with an unreadable expression.

“Well…yes.” You tilted your head. “She thought that’d be the best place to look.”

He sighed before tossing the books up just for all of them to vanish into thin air. You blinked in surprise.

He must have been a magician when he was alive.

“I don’t understand why she didn’t just ask me,” he stressed, throwing a hand up. “I mean, I’m her dad. You’d think it would be instinctual for her!”

“She probably wasn’t sure how you’d react,” you said, looking off to the side. This felt like it could easily spiral into a family therapy session, and even if you were qualified, you did not sign up for that.

“I just have to prove myself to her!” he said in a determined tone, throwing an arm over your shoulder to walk you back over to the couch, “I’ll get you home lickety-split!”

You stiffened at the unexpected contact but conceded to his will, nonetheless.

“Like, now? I could be home today?” you asked, eyes alight with hope.

“Ah…I don’t now about that. It’s been quite a while since I’ve gone to Earth so my skills may be a little rusty, but it won’t take me too long to brush up on them,” he explained as he plopped you both down on the couch. “I’ll have a portal open and ready for you to hop through in no time!”

“It–It’s that easy for you?” you asked, aghast. If Charlie knew he could do that all along, she should have just bit the bullet and asked him. Daddy issues be damned!

“Hah! I used to be able to do it with my eyes closed!” He leaned into you as he emphasized his words. “Usually, I’d charge a sacrifice or something of the sort, but you’re no sinner. You shouldn’t have to be subjected to this hellscape until you’ve earned it.”

“That’s–uh–very kind of you,” you said, smiling and nodding along whilst looking longingly at the front door of the hotel. It was generous of him to offer his services to your cause, but a social buffer would be appreciated considering your circumstances. You hoped Charlie and Vaggie returned soon.

The man continued to converse with you on the sofa for the next hour, and slowly, you felt your anxiety begin to fade. He turned out to be quite the chatterbox, and his commentary was mostly light-hearted and humorous.

 Occasionally, he would stand up to poke around the entryway, commenting on anything that wasn’t quite up to his standards. That left you to come to your hostess’ defense whenever you could. After all, the hotel wasn’t technically up and running yet seeing as you weren’t an actual guest and Angel had yet to move in.

After getting all the parental nosiness out of his system, he settled back down beside you and began asking you about your life on Earth. You had to tell him again what you did for work–he apparently wasn’t paying attention the first time–and what all went into it.

The conversation jumped from topic to topic but left little room for you to ask much about him. His interest in Earth and humanity’s accomplishments was overwhelming.

When Charlie and Vaggie finally returned, they were greeted by the sight of the two of you chatting away and sipping on tea, which had been manifested out of thin air. You were highly skeptical of it at first but had decided to drink so as not to spite the one person who could get you back to Earth. You were pleasantly surprised by its flavor and relieved that it didn’t appear to be poisoned or drugged.

“Hey, Dad…” Charlie drawled as she walked up to the couch. It was clear that she was surprised he had beaten them home. “I thought you were going to come, like, an hour from now.”

“I had some free time this morning, so I decided to swing by a little earlier,” he said after standing up to nudge his shoulder into her, “Can’t put a price tag on extra time with my darling daughter.”

“Right…” Charlie said with a strained smile, looking off to the side where her eyes landed on Vaggie. She perked up and pranced over to her side, grabbing her hand to introduce her.

Her dad was ecstatic over getting to meet her girlfriend. You thought he was overbearing when you met him, but that was dwarfed in comparison. He was even more touchy and fumbling over his words.

Vaggie did her best to be polite.

“Haha…so–uh, have you been given a tour of the hotel yet?” Charlie asked, glancing over at you.

“I poked around this area a bit–-didn’t want to intrude too much,” her father chuckled with his hands propped up on his apple staff.

“I thought it would be better to leave that to you,” you said as you stood up to join the group, teacup in hand, “I still struggle to find my way around.”

The night prior, Vaggie had caught you wandering aimlessly on the fourth floor after attempting to find your way to your room on your own. They offered to walk you there since they understood the halls could be a maze sometimes, but you had decided to be stubborn, insisting it was straightforward enough. Clearly, you had overestimated your skills.

That being said, it was a miracle you were able to make it to the foyer that morning.

Vaggie chuckled a bit as she recalled the memory.

Charlie smiled at you knowingly, as well, indicating that the story had been relayed to her. She looked back at her dad for only a moment before her eyes darted back to you, eyes widening as the smile dropped from her face.

“Oh–Oh my god!” she squawked as she rushed to your side. “You’re not–Why aren’t you…” she waved her hand in circles as she tried to find the word she was looking for before leaning in to whisper, “...you know.”

Your eyes narrowed as they rolled over to look at her father.

“I barely rolled myself out of bed when he came knocking,” you explained, “Believe me, I tried to avoid being seen, but…”

But you were hunted down like a mouse running from a fox. Even when you thought you were in the clear, it seemed like he knew exactly where you were and where you would go next.

That man was scary.

“But you can’t hide something like that forever~” he sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you against him. “However, I never imagined it would be this darling little human.”

He jostled you slightly as he spoke, and you could feel your face warming up from both his actions and his words. However, he had no right to be calling anybody else ‘little’ considering his stature.

“We really need to get her a new phone,” Charlie said to Vaggie, “If she could have called or texted us, we might’ve been able to intervene.”

Charlie’s father scoffed.

“What kind of sinner do you take me for? I’m not an animal, you know––” he began to argue but paused to turn his attention on you, retracting his arm. “You threatened to call her earlier, but you don’t even have a phone?”

Your lips twitched into a guilty smile, and you took a step closer to Charlie.

“You’re a filthy little liar!” He jabbed a finger in your direction.

 “You were breaking and entering!” you pitched back.

“I am her–”

“Okay!” Charlie tucked you behind her and put a hand up in front of her dad. “How about that tour then?”

She put one hand on your back and the other on her father’s as she began to lead the group of you through the hotel. You were secretly glad you were getting another chance to look around and get a grasp of the layout.

When you dared to glance over at her dad, he was already eying you bitterly, and the only thing you could think to do was shoot him a sheepish smile in return.

The childish part of you wanted to stick your tongue out and blow a raspberry, but you knew better. He made it clear he had some level of magical abilities, and to what extent, you weren’t sure. That last thing you wanted to do was learn the hard way. Besides, you needed to be on his good side so he’d help you get home.

As the tour progressed, he thankfully dropped his spiteful demeanor towards you in favor of soaking in as much of Charlie’s attention as he could get. You could tell that he was just happy to be near her.

It was sweet.

There were a few times where he exchanged some words with you lightheartedly. It reassured you that you hadn’t managed to say or do anything to genuinely piss him off. Rather, it seemed he was just the dramatic type.

You made it back to the foyer, and when Charlie was finished explaining her ideas for redeeming sinners, she waited eagerly for her father’s thoughts. She was disappointed that he had more opinions on the hotel’s appearance than its purpose, but she didn’t push the subject.

She would have a better chance pitching the idea to him once she had a few successful patrons to use as evidence that sinners could, in fact, be redeemed.

“I can certainly help you spruce the place up a bit,” he said as he waved his stick around the room, “After filling this place up with furniture and maybe adding a bit more light…I’m sure it will look wonderful, honey.”

He sent her a prideful grin, which she subtly rolled her eyes at.

“Thanks, dad… I really appreciate it,” she said as she pulled him into a hug. His face lit up before he shut his eyes and melted into her embrace.

When they parted, he made a gesture at you.

“I was also telling your friend earlier that I’d be more than happy to get her home. I just need some time to warm up. Don’t want to accidentally drop her off in the middle of Antarctica,” he said whilst nudging her and chuckling at his own joke.

“Oh! Well, I don’t really think we need your help with that…” she said, looking away.

You sent her a baffled look.

“We already found some people–today, actually–that can get her home,” she stated with a firm nod of her head. “So no need to worry about that! Sending over furniture is more than enough, which, again, I really appreciate!”

“Nonsense, this is what good fathers do! Besides, I highly doubt they could be more efficient than me,” he huffed before turning to grin at you. “I promise to have you home in no time.

♡ ♡ ♡

Tag List: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150 @froggybich @darling-angel222 @preciousbabypeter @itzabbeym @mrspepper1885

[nym-wibbly]

A Bed of Thorns - the ending

I've answered a few Asks recently about the state, fate, and ending of my 12-year-old Belle/Rumple WIP, A Bed of Thorns.

I don't have it in me to admit that this thing defeated me (Once Upon a Time is all about not giving up hope, after all, so that would be silly) but I think it's time to put the ending out here for anyone who'd like the closure to find. It's not a huge secret. I've been sharing details of the ending and epilogue with anyone who asked privately since a couple of years into writing it, and I've never asked those people not to tell others.

As with all my works, anyone is welcome to snag my ideas and original characters for use in their own non-profit fanworks, so if my planned ending doesn't float your boat, by all means create your own! Of all my stories, I know that A Bed of Thorns was, is, and always will be so much bigger than myself. I lay claim to nothing but the words I've written. Even if I'm never able to complete it, the story lives in my head and heart, and the privilege of touching something once-in-a-fannish-career special still leaves me humbled (and more than a bit intimidated!)

Don't click the 'keep reading' if you don't want to know how the story ends!

Rumple eventually lets the Dark Curse (and Regina) go, trusting Belle to find a way to reunite them with Baelfire. A way that doesn't rack up the cosmic debt and devastate more lives. Belle finds the way, because there was always another way—multiple other ways to move between the Enchanted Forest and the Land Without Magic—Rumple just couldn't access those solutions by using dark magic, distrust, or dealing. And, having let Baelfire go all those years ago, he couldn't see the flaw in his approach until he had love in his life again. Magic bean, plot, then Rumple hesitates at the portal, afraid to go through and become powerless on the other side. Afraid it won't work. Afraid that Bae won't forgive him. Afraid he'll fail as a father again. Belle just holds out her hand and waits patiently for him—trusting him to make the right choice for Bae, not doubting for a moment that he will. She's so excited for the big adventure of this strange land without magic. They step together through the portal into Victorian London. In the brief epilogue Rumple and Belle finish up an anxious search by knocking on the Darlings' door, finding young Bae before he's taken to Neverland. Before it's too late for them to be a family.

If you love A Bed of Thorns even a fraction as much as I do - thank you.

Nym - September 2024

[imagining-in-the-margins]

S.R. Series Recs (Completed Works)

Hey friends! I’m back with another fic rec list for Completed Series! If you have any other recommendations not included here (including your own work), please send me a DM! I would love to add it.

SFW S.R. Series

Valkyrie by @illegalcerebral: Unsub!Reader. You live two lives, one where you protect and serve and one where you hunt. You have always had control over the two sides until the BAU are brought to your doorstep.

Shifting Narrative by @/illegalcerebral: The BAU are called in on a case. Complicating matters is a tenacious filmmaker making a documentary on the case and Reid’s residual emotional trauma from being in prison.

Flight Risk by @brywrites: In which a pilot and a profiler become closer than originally planned when Reid finally meets one of the elusive individuals flying the BAU jet.

NSFW Series Below...

NSFW S.R. Series

Here to Misbehave by me: Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

Phoenix by me: Spencer Reid had a secret, and now you have a funeral to attend… and your own secret to keep. Or not. Rewrite of the Emily/Doyle arc with Spencer taking Emily’s place.

Lily of the Valley by me: Unsub!Reid. Spencer was found guilty but mentally ill after the torture and murder of several men. He finds solace in his psychiatrist at the institution.

26 Things by @foxy-eva: Spencer Reid is determined to help his girlfriend check off everything left on her bucket list - even the explicit parts.

Pretty Please by @mercy-burning: Reader hears something surprising from her next door neighbor, and it throws her off.

January 16 by @aperrywilliams: Reader and Spencer Reid share the most intimate part of their lives through the years around a fateful date.

Virginia Kisses by @twentysomethingloser92: Every single time Spencer and Reader kiss.

The Most Natural Thing in the World by @dontshootmespence: An experienced Dom and a Virgin meet in a bar. Can he introduce her to a world she’s always imagined but never known before? Sequel.

Lock and Key by @/brywrites: Prison is a tough place to find hope in. But when Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class, the teacher makes him think it might not be so hopeless after all.

Say Something by @fortheloveofwonderland: In which Spencer and Reader are in a toxic relationship trying to navigate through the intrepid waters of love in a depressive state.

Losing So Much Time by @/fortheloveofwonderland: Fifteen years is a long time to be in love with someone you only see once a year. But when you live on opposite ends of the country and once a year is all you get you just have to try and make the most of the time you get.

Teach Me Something by @homoose: Spencer meets Michael’s kindergarten teacher and finds he still has so much left to learn.

Thanks, everyone! Happy Reading!

[bitchinbarzal]

https://www.tumblr.com/bitchinbarzal/736733295226896384/do-it-lets-fuck-some-shit-up-cole-anon

At this point she was already pregnant (baby Luca) but she didn't know it

Mama Hischier was ready to raise this baby alone and in secret, i need drama

😮‍💨 oh bestie the angst. I know this doesn’t really fit with the original storyline but I’m going to make it because it’s too good.

Nico was in Switzerland for the summer with Naomi. You were supposed to fly Iris over half way through the off season before joining your girlfriends on a beach vacation in Greece then coming home to jersey.

However, plans change. You were sick, so severely sick.

You’d ended up calling Nico three weeks into the off season

“I need you to come back to jersey and get iris”

“What?! She’s not supposed to be here for another-“

“Nico, I can’t get into this with you can you do it or not? I can’t bring her there anymore”

You had it out on the phone, him accusing you of being difficult assuming it had something to do with Naomi being there or what he’d told you before he left.

It wasn’t, there was someone else you were too focused on.

Luckily, Timo’s girlfriend had shows in California so they were still in the states and they’d agreed to come to jersey after the shows were finished to get Iris and take her back to Switzerland with them.

You thought it best to let her go to her dads before it got bad.

Iris however was constantly watching you throw up, scared something was wrong. She was so worried.

You knew you were pregnant. Mom's intuition. And you were terrified.

You were scared, the fear from before was coming back up. Everything you’d been through four years ago was sitting at the forefront of your mind.

You were pregnant with Nico’s baby and he was trying to have a baby with someone else.

You hadn’t told him, after your conversations about him and Naomi you decided very selfishly, you’d do this alone.

In Switzerland, Iris was lapping up the love from her auntie, uncle, oma and opa.

All of them had watched her over the week and how Naomi interacted with her.

About a week into her trip, Iris was in bed ready to sleep when her grandma headed up to say goodnight. She stopped when she heard the little girl speak

“Is daddy coming to read to me?”

“No, your dad is busy. He doesn’t want to see you” Naomi snapped and his mom frowned listening to her tone “and Iris, I know your mommy sent you here to ruin our summer but please sweetheart just leave me and your daddy alone this week ok? You’re really bothering us”

She could hear the quiver in Iris’ voice “but mommy’s si-“

“I don’t care. she’s a pain in my side and so are yo-“

“Enough!” Iris scrambled out of bed to her grandma’s arms while Naomi tried to stumble out an excuse for what she’d clearly said.

“I think it’s best you leave Naomi, you’re not welcome in our house any longer”

They made off downstairs, Iris sniffling and Naomi yelling behind them about how they couldn’t kick her out, this wasn’t fair.

“Woah, what’s happening?” Nina asked, stopping the conversations she was having with her brothers and dad in the living room to focus solely on her distraught little niece.

Nico’s mom stared at him in a way she hadn’t since he was a child

“I want her out of our house, now”

He nodded, up out of his seat and straight towards Iris who shifted her head so she wasn’t looking at her father. Nico’s heart broke, he had no idea what was going on.

He left the house with Naomi and didn’t arrive back for almost two hours, by this time Iris was fast asleep in her uncles lap.

When he did come in the family were all waiting for him just as he’d left. He didn’t care about them, or what they had to say. He cared about Iris.

He approached her sleeping form and crouched down infront of her, kissing her cheek before lifting her up into his arms and taking her up to his bed.

He held her all night, still fully dressed in his clothes he’d worn all day. He just had to hold his girl.

When the morning came and Iris woke up she had to gather her surroundings before she saw Nico and cuddled into him some more

“Morning princess”

“Hi daddy”

He sucked in a breath before saying “You want to talk?”

Iris contemplated it for a minute before she said

“Are you and mommy fighting because mommy’s sick? Is that why Naomi doesn’t like mommy?”

Nico frowned “Mommy’s sick?”

Iris nodded "We went to the doctors home and she was crying" now Nico is internally panicking, a million thoughts running through his mind of what could be wrong with you.

"But the doctor lady gave mommy a present to take home and she was smiling after”

“What did she get?” He asks and Iris jumps out of bed, leaving the room momentarily before coming back in holding something.

He takes it from her hand and he is instantly relieved, it's just her sonogram. It takes him a moment before he quirks his head. That's not Iris. He knows her picture, it's in his stall, he sees it everyday.

Then he sees the name and date at the top.

You were pregnant.

Nico has a wave of emotions fall over him for a moment, anger, jealousy, hurt before he turns to Iris

“Mommy’s gonna be okay, ‘ris I promise”

She hums, still stuck into his side before she says

“Daddy?”

“Yeah squish?”

“I wanna go home to mommy”

“Yeah, me too”

So they travelled back to Jersey that night, the two of them needing your comfort.

You were in the middle of watching a movie when they came through the door, startling you

“Mama I’m home!” Iris shouted, jumping up onto the couch and into your arms

“Hi babygirl, what on earth are you guys doing back here?”you were looking at Nico to answer that.

He sat down next to you, pulling the blanket you had over him too then put down the sonogram on the coffee table infront of you both.

The smile on your face dropped and you looked at him, panicked.

“I hope it’s a boy” is all he says before grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

He knew. He knew it was his baby.

You squeezed his hand back “Not the baby mom you’d hoped for-“

“Hey” he grumbled “You’re the best mom and if I get the choice you’ll be the only mom to all of my kids”

“Neeks…”

“We’ll talk when she’s in bed ok?”

You nod, letting it go for now while watching Iris cuddle into your side to watch the movie and Nico’s hand spreads out across your belly.

He had everything he ever wanted under that roof

[phantomwitch16]

So I just learned the Nanbaka ending. Safe to say that it was not what i expected and I wanna talk about it :,)

Warning to the many people who have not been able to make it past chapter 192 or only watched the anime, the majority of what i know is from TikTok's, the comments of the vids and what i've pulled together by myself and what i've seen on Pinterest. Plus, despite my like for the series, I don't know much, its been a few years since I've done anything with the series , there is a cut off point with the manga and even then i don't know if it was in any particular order.

When i first started the series, I felt like i had a good idea of where the series was going. Like as the series would progress, we learn the pasts and motivations of the main cast, like Uno, Rock, Nico and the others, while seeing Jyugo learn about the shackles and the man on the scar. Then at the end, some shenanigans results in our main cast of idiotic prisoners being released early or finishing off their sentences in around a year or two. but because they either grew attached to the prison or liked the perks of working there (annoying Hajime, anime and food), they decide to go back and become guards of building 13. With Jyugo possibly doing something like this each day.

But that didn't happen. Instead we get something a lot more different than what I originally imagined.

In the end of the series, we learn a lot about Jyugo's backstory, how he and the boys first me and more about the man who shackled him. As it turns out, Jyugo was never friends with Uno, Rock and Nico. They met him but they weren't friends, I think. Initally, I didn't think that he even met them before the start of the series until finding some of the fan translated pics of the manga on Pinterest (Search Nanmaka manga ending Jyugo and you should find something, just find one and keep on scrolling). All the memories that Jyugo had with them were fake ones that were inputted by the clone of the man with the scar/his biological grandfather, i.e. this guy, Hiiro, I think is his name. Hiiro with black hair, scar guy with white guy down here 👇

I'm not entirely clear on what they were planning initially but Hiiro was the one who inputted the memories and orchestrated him going to Namba and becoming friends with the three, who possibly have at least met them individually at tone point. From what I am aware, Jyugo was the clone of Mashiro Mutsuki's (Scar man), grandson who alongside his daughter's, Touko, Jyugo's mother. She died while she was pregnant with Jyugo and Mashiro kept her body so that she could be cloned and give birth to Jyugo.

There were bit and pieces of Jyugo's childhood, with him and Hiiro. And Jyugo was nothing like how he was during the series. He was serious, had no general emotions and all that and i think his clone body was falling apart or he was sort of shapeshifting. He only became somewhat normal and acts similar to how he does to the series when he put the shackles on.

But the shackles had another function and it was to repress his memories and powers. Specifically his memories with Hiiro, the scar man and what his friends did to him. Uno, Nico and Rock were brought in to teach Jyugo how to live in order to be released from prison and gain their freedom. And kill him some time before the series started. This was part of Hiiro’s plan but I’m not too sure about his reasoning. They did that, and when the shackles are gone we see the evidence of it on Jyugo's neck.

All this makes looking back on previous adventures quite differently. In short they were never his friends for a time but did grow close in the time afterwards and began to feel guilt for what they did to him. They eventually come to talk to Jyugo about it and apologise but at this point, it was too late. Jyugo remembers everything when the shackles break and is practically reverted to his previous state. And it leads to a bitter confrontation that leaves the three shaken. As seen below 👇

I'm not sure to what degree of involvement Nanba Prison and the staff there had. By all accounts, its seems that Hajime and the other guards were just as or even more in the dark than Jyugo. Upon finding him, Hajime treats him like he's always has.

The only moderately positive thing and relatively Jyugo related thing that the reverted Jyugo does is that he has a brief interaction with Hajime’s cat who he says goodbye to.

In the end, Jyugo disappeared from the prison with a splatter of blood left behind, leaving apparently with his grandfather. Then that's it. A very WTF kind of ending for a comedic series. It...honestly not what i expected. Beautiful art stuff, yes. WTF moments, yes. Hilarity, yes. A very bitter ending with barely any sweetness in it…neat.

[0heartangel0]

Pt. 3: YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD!

We're skipping to the aftermath of Alice's defeat; all of the desires are brought back to their rightful owners, Alice has a change of heart of her own and apologizes on live television over what she's done, and Ann feels remorse for her, since Alice is gonna be suffering a fallback that might take a long while to recover from. However, questions still hang in the air on how Jails work, or how Alice was able to do what she did with EMMA. If only they could get into contact with her to look into her phone and see for themselves-

GASP

IT'S OUR ☆~QUEEN~☆!!!

After Futaba starts one of the funniest running gags in this game,

Zenkichi congratulates the thieves on a job well done, citing the intel he gave them as part of the reason for it. And so, because of it, he comes in today expecting to get something similar back in return - the response to the deal he offered about three days ago (once again, they don't owe him anything in return for something he gave willy-nilly, but whatever. Gaslight away, my man). He even tosses in "a lil' bonus" to his offer, which is getting answers from Alice for them.

(This dude, I swear... even after the thieves pop in from another alternate reality, he still manages to find and eavesdrop on them. Alternate title to this arc is 'Man Stalks A Bunch Of Teenagers For Three Days Straight'.)

The PT point out that this deal is unnecessary, because they've already cleared their names, for Alice has confessed and is going to pay for her crimes.

It is here, where Zenkichi finally reveals to the Thieves - and us the audience - that he has tricked them, he has decieved them, and, most assuredly, he has bamboozled them.

As it turns out, Alice isn't an isolated incident, for this Change of Heart epidemic is happening "aaaall over the country."

This is where I finally reveal the plan that I've been foreshadowing for two posts now.

If you recall when I told you to put a pin on the whole Alice interview incident, I'm pulling the pin off, and presenting it to you now.

Back when Zenkichi was first talking about this epidemic with the thieves, he was only referring to the stuff going on with Alice, and not any other incident outside of Alice that would still relate to the epidemic. He intentionally left out this detail to throw them off, and think that they're only dealing with the one case with Alice. And even then, he only mentions the interview incident, and not any of the other weird behavior from other people that involves Alice (buying out her stock, obsessing over her, etc.).

And he knew there were other cases prior to Alice, for we hear about them in the opening scene in the police meeting. And Alice wasn't even a talking point during that meeting. In fact, Zenkichi arrives in Yongen Jaya the day the interview happens. We know this, because right as you're leaving for the interview, Zenkichi is seen (and heard) at the booth eating curry!

Why the Hell would he intentionally leave out that detail? Was it to put them into a false sense of security, thinking this wasn't gonna be as big of a deal, so they'd just go about their usual thievery? Probably, because he then reveals soon after that their calling card for Alice only made them look even more suspicious to the police, especially since, as was stated, this is happening everywhere.

So, in just letting the thieves do this, Zenkichi made it so the police now are more gung-ho to arrest them, forcing them to come crawling back to him. Thus, explaining his little smirk during the calling card sequence.

It's perfect. It's downright genius.

Let's also not forget that when telling them about the whole Alice thing, Zenkichi claimed that it was the police who were suspecting the thieves originally. He, however, states that he doesn't believe that they're the culprits, even after dropping the other shoe that is the Change of Heart epidemic. He even claims that to be the reason he's making this deal in the first place.

BUT, looking back once again at the police meeting scene, when the men in the room are questioning the logistics behind all of these cases of people going looney, it is Zenkichi who pipes up, and brings up the PT as suspects, with the presenter confirming that he might be right on that suspicion.

So, while Zenkichi says it's just the police that are suspicious of the thieves, and not him, we know that this is total horse-honkey. This is just a further tactic of him trying to get them to work with him, because while the police as a whole don't seem trustworthy, he is!

He even tries to scare them a bit by giving them a weird wake-up call to the situation by saying:

He's practically stating there's no choice in the matter when it comes to taking his deal, because it's the safest option to make. Any other one results in their arrest. He kind of left them with no other alternative.

After he puts down his suspicions of there being another culprit, the gang kick Zenkichi out for a bit to discuss (bet you ten bucks he was still eavesdropping). Long story short, as I've pointed out, they have no choice in the matter. Even Futaba looks through the web and finds that Zenkichi really wasn't lying about the Change of Heart epidemic after all. The only real problem that they can't avoid is having to explain to Zenkichi how they do what they do. It's here where Makoto suggests just taking him to the Metaverse physically. They reluctantly agree, since there's no other way around it, and Joker's freedom is on the line here. The thieves invite him back in, and take him to the bridge in Shibuya, while also explaining the Metaverse to him on the way there.

By the time they get there, Zenkichi is all but convinced that they're on drugs. However, the thieves, Makoto especially, aren't having any of it and drag him into the Metaverse. What proceeds is one of the funniest moments in the game, where we get to watch a middle-aged man lose his God dang marbles, somehow never falling off the building in sheer shock and horror.

I think the best part about this scene is us the players finally getting the satisfaction of watching Zenkichi getting taken down a peg for the first time. All throughout this arc, he's been nothing but smug and thinking himself above you. He even seems to be a few steps ahead when you think you got a running start. So, getting to watch him finally being put in his place is nothing short of gratifying. And funny.

I love this game.

Also, he says this:

This just tells me two things:

He's confirmed to drink alcohol.

Apparently, after the Alice calling card, he proceeded to go out to drink for some reason, and doesn't remember to what extent. Interesting.

So after successfully traumatizing the poor man, they take him back and have him ruminate on this life-altering knowledge for a hot second, where he says he'll "strive to understand."

A little detail I love is that when Makoto brings the topic back to their deal, Zenkichi immediately switches back to his cool and collected demeanor, almost like he's blocking out what he just found out, and is grasping for anything that he can at least wrap his head around.

Zenkichi then lays out the deal, saying this:

This is the part where I tell you to put another pin on this. A big, GIANT pin. This is gonna be on the test.

Afterwards, you have some optional responses to this, and while everyone picks the last one, because it's funny ("Get along with the talking cat"), I'm more interested in the middle response ("If you screw us on this..."). The reason is due to Zenkichi’s response to it, which I've always found fascinating:

There's so much to unpack here with that line alone. The way Zenkichi immediately jumps to that conclusion, assuming the thieves would have no qualms doing something like that, his delivery sounding less terrified, and more-so just stating it matter-of-factly, and most interestingly, something he ends up admitting to himself later on at the end of this arc that I will cover (so add this as another pin (somehow relating to the other pin)).

Zenkichi goes on to explain that the thieves will be meeting with him in Sapporo on the 8th, since one of his main suspects won't be back until then. In the meantime, they can't use public transportation out of fear that since they've made it public that they personally took down Alice, other Monarchs might be scrambling to try and take the thieves down by potentially brainwashing one of their drivers (I always found it interesting how Zenkichi immediately clocks in on that, despite admitting his confusion on this "cognitive mumbo-jumbo"). Zenkichi himself can't provide a ride either, since that could potentially link back to their deal, and he can't have anyone knowing about it or the case.

And with that, Zenkichi leaves, while muttering that "this is real, Zenkichi..."

I'll be concluding everything in the next part, so get hyped!

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 4

[half-dead-writer]

gordon goose x gn/masc reader where the reader is tired of seeing gordon mopping about his current situation and they decide to give him a makeover, like they give him a suit, brush his hair and shave him up but they kind of… get turned on, so yeah

I actually wanted to write something moping-Goose related so it's a great idea! I kind of made it more comic-Gideon but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Typical Roommate Stuff

When Gideon Graves showed up under your door, you knew your life would change. Whether for the better or for worse, you gotta judge that yourself. But maybe, having an anime-obsessed, overconfident and ambitious man at your house isn't that bad?

character: Gideon Graves / Gordon Goose (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off) words: ~9,5k reader: AMAB warnings: Gideon's weird behavior, light feminization (of the reader), kind of love-hate relationship, Gideon being, well, Gideon, overstimulation

𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 / 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Your week had been busy as hell. If someone told you the Gideon Graves would wash up in your neighborhood and live under your roof for the next unforeseeable amount of days, you'd probably tell them they're crazy. Yet, here you were, seeing a sad shell of a man, moping around on your couch.

Of course, seeing his pathetic state when he showed under your door left you no choice but to bring him inside, not wanting the pouring rain to torment him any longer. Not too long ago you've been in a similar situation, caught during a wild rainstorm while waiting for your bus home - it was horrible, and you wouldn't wish it upon anyone that haven't wronged you. Gideon, who you now knew as Gordon, had a reputation of being a big asshole, which you couldn't really disagree with. Although you haven't seen him before he landed here, you could easily imagine how being a CEO got to his head. He hasn't shown you his "quirky personality" when first crossing the border of your house, but as soon as you showed your weakness kindness, he made sure to overuse it.

His original plan was to visit a long-time friend from his highschool years, but it quickly backfired after he realized she wasn't home. But instead of his old classmate, you showed up. Your objective was to quickly grab something missing from your kitchen in the nearby store, already equipped with an umbrella, ready to head out. Your house was next to hers, so it wasn't hard to notice a ball of patheticness curled up on Julie's porch. At first you thought it was just some random hobo picking a place to hide from the rain, but as your eyes focused, you noticed the man looked... quite familiar. And then, you made eye-contact. You couldn't just leave him like that, especially now that he acknowledged you.

Scooting over to him, you noticed his brows furrowing in an unsure squint. He was probably assured you're gonna chase him away, and he wouldn't blame you. Who would want some random man on their neighbor's porch, right? But to his surprise, instead of a rude send off, you hesitantly asked if he's alright.

And that's when Gordon became your roommate.

He was not supposed to stay at yours for so long, but his depressed state left you feeling kind of bad. Until it became annoying. You knew he had lost everything and was valid for feeling defeated, but you simply did not have the money to pay for two people living in the house. Especially when Gordon's use of TV was draining almost all of your money. He would just lay on the couch, watch anime, not shower and eat everything from your kitchen. Being depressed is one thing, but not doing anything to at least help around the house for a person who helped you for free, out of the kindness of their heart, was another.

You told him to clean after himself, clean himself, and find a job. He mulled over your request, promising to get better. But somehow, his words didn't sound sincere. And as you predicted, they weren't. He did what you asked - for 1,5 days. Then he started to whine, saying how it all doesn't matter anymore, how given up he is, and how the cruel world turned on him. All of the stuff you heard the first time he arrived here.

You were not really a confrontational person in general, but enough was enough. You gently yet firmly explained your reasoning. You simply did not have the funds to keep it up. Nor you wanted to. Well, maybe. But on your own terms. While being just slightly embarrassed to admit it, you did think G-Man was hot, from what you've seen of him before he became a leech at your house. But his behavior made it harder for you to even consider dating him. If only he wasn't such a pain in the ass...

Gordon, while prepared to hit you with another wave of complaining, did actually considered your words. You sounded serious this time, and it was probably just a matter of time until you acted on your words. He let out a prolonged, tired sigh, fixing the glasses on his face while avoiding your firm stare.

"...Fine." He crossed his arms in defeat, sinking into the couch. "I'll get a job."

Even though you wanted to believe his words, being "tricked" by him once before, you had to make sure he would fulfill his promise. While being G-man's babysitter was not ideal, you had to do something.

"Alright," you said, confidently putting your hands on your hips, determined to proceed with your plan, "we're starting tomorrow."

Gordon did not respond, only cocking his brow in hesitant curiosity.

. . .

Going past Gordon sleeping on the couch, you came home from your quick shopping trip. Since he obviously had no money, you had to buy him something suitable to wear. Going to a job interview in his stinky NO FEAR wifebeater wouldn't make a good impression, so you decided to buy him a suit. It wasn't as expensive as the ones he owned previously, but it still looked fancy. Putting it somewhere else for now, you returned to your living room.

Gordon was laying on his back, with one arm draped over his head, another hanging off the couch. His hair was mangled and all over his face, his chin had some stubble, and you were pretty sure drool was leaking out of the corner of his lips. It was... a sight. You made a mental note to remember that image in your mind for later. You probably wouldn't be able to see it again after he finally gets a job and moves out. ...Soon.

You cleared your throat before calling his name. No reaction. You tried speaking louder. Only a soft grunt came out of his lips, still not awake. You would not strain your voice by shouting, so you started poking his shoulder repeatedly. That woke him up.

He quickly lifted his arm off his head, jolting awake. He stared at you, processing the current situation, before wiping the saliva off his chin with a quick brush of his hand.

"What...?" He slowly laid back on the couch once he assessed what's happening, letting out a tired sigh.

"Get up. It's time for your glow up." You explained, looking at him expectantly.

Another groan got out of his lips. "...Eh, can I at least eat breakfast first?"

"... It's noon."

. . .

You occupied your time by mercifully cleaning his trash while he was busy eating his "breakfast". It would all end soon, the repeating words in your head kept you calm enough to not get pissed off for having to do it in the first place. In reality, you'd probably miss having him around, no matter how infuriating he was. You two had some good times together, mostly watching anime. You gave his serie a try - it was mid at best, but Gordon seemed entertained. And his reactions were just too cute to ignore. He seemed to instantly light up whenever you made a positive comment about it, even though he tried to brush it off as quickly as he became aware of doing it. He could not seem not-depressed, otherwise you'd throw him out, right?

Positively surprised at Gordon washing his plate after eating, you came up to him with your already established plan.

"Alright, since you're done, wanna start on your makeover?" You asked lightheartedly, not wanting to appear as threatening as yesterday. You thought this approach would work better than just pushing him to do it forcibly. Giving him some sense of... choice.

He just sighed, too given up to argue. "...Yeah."

"Don't worry, I'll help you." You offered, gaining an unsure raise of his eyebrow. "But first, you gotta bathe. You stink."

He groaned in dismay, slumping his arms like a teen who had just been asked to do their homework.

"...Unless you need help with that too?" You deadpanned, mostly joking. His focused expression had you thinking he probably didn't take it as such, which made you feel a bit embarrassed. He knitted his brows, thinking over your proposition for a bit too long for your liking.

Gaining a surge of arrogant confidence, he shrugged. "You can come wash my hair, if you wanna."

He didn't have time to look at your dumbfounded expression as he lazily walked past you, heading to the bathroom. Did he just- fuck with you??

"Wait-" You said unexpectedly, making him turn on his heel to face you. He had a smirk on his face. You felt yours getting hotter, acknowledging how your sudden remark must have sounded. "I gotta give you a clean shirt beforehand. You're not wearing your tanktop again, I gotta wash it."

He seemed almost disappointed but didn't show it much, patiently waiting for you to bring him some fresh clothes. You returned after grabbing some of the clothes from your room that could fit him. He lazily took them off your hands, disappearing past the bathroom doors.

The next few minutes passing were excruciating. Were you actually supposed to just, go there...? Wouldn't it be weird as hell? I mean, he would be naked. Yes, that's what people do before getting into the bathtub. But did he really mean it? Wouldn't you just seem like a fool by mindlessly following his teasing request? Probably. But... He'd be out of your hair soon, right? Then, you could both forget the potential cringe outcome of your decision. Not like many people would see the G-man in his most vulnerable position, or at least that's how you tried to rationalize it. But... were you really that chill with seeing his dick? You would rather not dwell on the answer. You didn't wanna embarrass yourself any further. ... Soap! You remembered you had a very bubbly soap, which would probably cover anything below the water. Check that off the list of the potential worries.

Two more minutes passed, and you had to make a choice, or else he would come out before you had a chance to make up your mind. You didn't know what pushed you to proceed with the stupid decision, but your knuckles soon met the wooden doors.

"It's open," he exclaimed in almost sing-song voice. God, what were you even doing?

Not daring to look at the focal point in the room, your eyes didn't meet his until you properly closed the door behind you, approaching closer like a cat scared of a cucumber. Thankfully, he was covered by the bubbles. He looked at you with a cheshire cat grin, obviously pleased and probably amused with your actions, leaning his arms on the bathtub's top.

"And here I thought you'd never come," he teased, squinting his eyes in amusement. How was this man so cocky while being naked in front of a stranger?

"I don't know why I came in the first place," you muttered out of embarrassment, but then quickly corrected yourself. "...I mean. I was supposed to help you."

His smirk became even more apparent, sloshing the water around by lazily adjusting his position. "And I really appreciate that."

You cleared your throat to chase away the leftover lump residing there. "So, did you... wash yourself, and all...?" Trying not to look at his exposed chest was much harder than you realized.

"Yep. Squeaky clean." He sized you up with his stare, making you feel even more on edge. "So, you gonna do your thing now?"

Ignoring the rising, uncomfortable feeling growing in you, you walked behind him, grabbing the showerhead. You weren't really sure if the feeling was of stress or... something else. It just felt too intimate.

"Close your eyes," you prefaced, shifting into a get-the-task-done mode to spare yourself the torture of looking too much into the situation. Gordon did as you requested, feeling the water drip down his hair. You were mindful not to get the shampoo in his eyes as you gently applied it. Gordon fully enjoyed the treatment, letting out a content sigh. It wasn't subtle though - as if he wanted you to know how much he liked your fingers playing with his hair. It felt ...weird.

The next few minutes were spent in a complete silence, filled only by the faint sounds of the water splashing due to his brief movements. He seemed completely relaxed, engulfed in the moment. If you weren't so stressed during the entire ordeal, you'd think he looked pretty nice like this. It could be a nice, domestic moment between you two, if only it didn't feel illegal.

Soon enough, the washing part of his head was done, leaving you to spray his hair with water, getting out the leftover soap. Briefly glancing at your work, he looked like a wet cat. ...Cute?

He opened up his eyes once he heard the showerhead clank into it's original place, looking over his shoulder. You went to grab the towel, careful not to be too rough while drying his hair. He patiently waited for you to be over.

"Five stars treatment, I see?" He shot you another one of his cocky remarks, making you roll your eyes, half serious.

"Yeah, you better appreciate it." You quipped back. "Now get dressed." You said, nonchalantly leaving the bathroom, just to think over the entire situation a few more times in your head.

Gideon lazily got out of the bathtub, using another one of his towels to get himself dry. He didn't hurry - he wasn't really looking forward to your next activities. Well, unless they were as fun as this one. He had a good time teasing you, even to the point of feeling pretty energized. Even though you'd probably deny it, he knew he had to have some effect on you. I mean, why else would you keep this loser of a man in his house? He knew he was hot, and he was gonna use it.

Examining your clothes, he thought... they weren't really his style. But, they'd have to do. Not like he had a choice in the matter. Slowly extending his hand to grab them, he stopped in the middle of the action. Glancing over the closed doors one more time, he lifted the shirt up to his nose. Not like you'd ever know he did that. It smelled of you. Not even embarrassed with his actions, he took another quick sniff, before putting it on himself. It wasn't his fault you smelled so good?

Gordon emerging from the bathroom startled you only a bit, distracting you from the repetitive train of thought. Your eyes traced his new look, with your clothes on him. You didn't know how much you'd appreciate the sight.

He put his glasses back on his face. "So, what now?" He asked casually while still making sure he didn't sound too invested. You had to know he wasn't looking forward to it.

Briefly squinting your eyes, you thought of your next move. "You need to get rid of the stubble."

"I need a razor for that."

"Well- back to the bathroom then," you said, gesturing him to follow after you into the now steamy and hot room. Gideon did as you said, entering the place he left from not too long ago. Grabbing your handy razor from the cabinet, you turned to him. "Can you shave by yourself, or do you need help with that too?" You raised your brow in a halfly amused expression.

"Hm..." He put on a dramatically thoughtful expression, "can I trust you won't cut me by accident?"

"...Um." You actually stopped for a moment. Well- You couldn't assure him of that, so you came clear, forcing him to manage his expectations. "No, actually, I can't promise you that." Just a bit guilty grin sneaked into your face.

He exhaled, disappointed, "fine, I'll do it by myself." He yanked the razor out of your hand, lazily approaching the sink to splash some water onto his face. Not wanting to just awkwardly stand there, you decided to remove yourself from the situation, heading back to return to the couch. Before you could properly exit, Gordon's voice stopped you.

"Shaving cream? Something??"

"Oh, right - on the top shelf of the cabinet," you instructed, glad of not forgetting to buy it last time you went shopping. You didn't use a lot of it, so Gordon had almost a full bottle. ...You guessed it wouldn't be as full next time you used it. Hearing the hum of acknowledgment, you were finally free to sit back on the couch. You used the free time to grab a comb from your room, prepared for your next task once Gordon was done with his shaving.

A few minutes later, Gordon greeted you with his presence once again. No stubble this time. Scanning over his face with your eyes, you noticed he really did start to look better. Fresh clothes, fresh face, almost fully dried hair. It looked so fluffy. You felt the urge to touch it.

"Can you sit on the floor?" Gideon gave you a confused glare, tilting his head just slightly. You quickly enlightened him, "It's gonna be comfier for me that way. I'm gonna brush your hair. You can watch TV in the meantime."

He seemed to accept your explanation, sliding down to sit cross legged with his back turned to you. You hunched over to entangle the comb into his hair, pulling his jet black hair on it's teeth. Your other hand secured the small strands of hair so the action wouldn't bring him any pain. You were right. His hair was soft.

Gordon watched the mind-numbing TV show, not daring to question your choice of getting so invested in his makeover. I mean, why didn't you just tell him to do those things himself? He was in no position to complain though, enjoying every bit of your merciful attention.

Even though all of his previous partners were devoted to him, he rarely got pampered. He was the one dolling up his possessions, he was the provider. Of course, he treated himself to all the joys money could give him as well, but rarely did his girlfriends brush his hair, for example. And you weren't even his? ...Not yet, at least.

He could get used to this. Completely relaxed, he dreaded the moment it would end. He would have to move out, and then, what? He'd have to look for another person to take care of him like that. And it's so hard to find someone like that. Of course, he could just go to a hairdresser, pay her to pamper him, but where's the fun in that?

With you occupied, he took the time to actually think over his plan for the future. ...You would be in there, for sure.

Although your movements were slow, sooner or later, the session had to end eventually. His hair was fully dry now, presenting itself in it's best form.

You retreated your hands, "I'm done."

He combed the fingers thru his hair, feeling pretty good. He almost forgot how good it felt to be all clean and well-maintained due to his brief depression episode. Well, glad you did it for him.

"Mhm. Anything else on your 'list'?" He asked, glancing over at you.

You put a thoughtful finger on your chin, thinking whether there was anything else you'd miss. You decided there wasn't.

"Well, no... But I have something for you."

His eyes lit with curiosity, "Hm? And what would that be?"

You scooted over to your room, bringing him the nicely looking suit, draped over the hanger. He analyzed the item after getting it into his hands, "Oh. A suit."

"Yep. You gotta have one if you're gonna go on a job interview." You watched as his sight examined the new thing, skimming over it with his eyes a few times. He seemed pleased. "Do you like it?"

"It's not bad," he responded very nonchalant, but you could tell he was happy.

"Wanna put it on?"

He cocked his eyebrow while glancing your way, but didn't care to come up with any more remarks. "Sure." He briefly looked over to the bathroom, wondering whether he had to head the cursed room once more to change.

"You can just quickly dress in here," you said, not like seeing him in his boxers would be anything outrageous, given you already seen him pretty much naked. He wasted no time, swiftly getting out of his pants. You did the polite thing and not stare as he got dressed. Once the pants were on, the top was quick to follow. He had lots of experience with buttoning up, wearing lots of suits in his glory days, so it went relatively quickly. Glamorously, he turned over to you to present himself in his new, fancy outfit.

Your eyes thoroughly wandered over his new look. He looked... Hot. Very hot, actually. It seems he noticed you staring, as another smirk was plastered on his face.

"Like what you see?" He taunted, his voice rasp and seductive. You felt your cheeks involuntarily heat up. Shit. Your lecherous stare was quickly averted, feeling as if you got caught doing something bad. He did notice that, too.

"You just look better than you do on the regular," you explained, trying to regain a bit of your pride back.

"Oh, is that right?" He approached closer to you, and you'd be inclined to step back, if not for the weird effect he had on you. You stood your ground, and soon enough, Gordon was mere inches from your face. He almost challenged you to do something about it. You could feel his warm breath against your skin with how close he got to your personal space.

"Well, you can look at me all you want," he teased, the sultry look not leaving his expression for a moment. "But, is that the only thing you wanna do?"

That left you speechless. How dares he- The sudden silence and appall radiating off of you was a good enough for him indicator that he got you wrapped around his finger. His smirk only widened, and the staring game began.

"Well, darling?" His use of a pet name only fueled your embarrassment further. "We both know you wouldn't come to see me in the bathtub if you didn't want it."

"Wha-" Your words hitched slightly, you were too caught off guard to process what you were gonna say next, "I came there because you asked me to!"

"No, honey, I said you could come, if you want to." His expression softened into amusement. "And, seems like you did. So, my point stands."

Silence from your side, again.

It took you another few seconds to gather your thoughts and game-plan. Well- Not like there was any point in trying to save your pride anymore. Trying to convince him otherwise would be pointless, he already made up his mind. And... granted you an opportunity...?

Trying to keep your voice at a normal volume, you finally gave up on trying to save face. "Well... So what?"

A very proud snicker escaped his lips, "so why not do what you actually wanna do?" His arm snaked over to your waist, pulling you ever closer, your bodies touched.

You were totally not in your comfort zone, but you couldn't deny, you were into this. Hesitantly, your hand slowly wandered over his chest, as a way to silently show him your approval.

"...Good decision." He grinned, wasting no time and swiftly placing his soft lips onto yours, fitting together a puzzle. Kissing him felt ecstatic - he was definitely a good kisser, probably the best one you seen so far. You didn't know whether that spoke more about him or you. As expected, his tongue invaded your mouth pretty soon. You meekly tried to reciprocate the intense kiss, giving him even more signals that he would be the one leading this tango of tongues. You didn't mind, you were just there for the ride.

His hands started to trace over your body with even less grace, hungrily grabbing what he now established as his. The pace had you feeling goosebumps, this guy was straight to the point. Too focused on his hands trailing down your lower back, trying to figure out whether he'd be bold enough to grab your ass, you almost didn't process his lips leaving yours, instead moving onto your neck.

A quite unmanly sound left your mouth as Gordon sucked a sensitive spot on your skin, slowly turning it red. Damn you, Goose, above the collar? How are you gonna cover that? Not like he cared in the slightest, though, quite the opposite - he liked marking his things. It was almost as if he wanted it to be very visible to people who had the chance to look at you, to see that you were already taken. It was too late to ask him to stop, and it's not like you didn't enjoy it. You were just afraid to see yourself in the mirror later.

His chest felt pretty good under your fingers, even if it was obstructed by the suit's fabric. Gordon didn't mind the attention, still assaulting your jaw, neck and throat with the continuous kisses. His teeth began to lightly scrap over your skin, teasing you in just the right places. His tongue brushed over the new marks, satisfied with the effect he had on you, that he was able to do that so fast.

He eventually pulled away, leaving you slightly breathless and flushed. Gideon took his time admiring your pathetic state before speaking in a low, sultry tone.

"Am I going too fast for you, sweetie?" He asked, pretending to be concerned. You'd think it'd be caring of him if not for the hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"You wish," you replied with a weak chuckle, trying to downplay the effect he was having on you.

He raised his eyebrow amused, the smirk returning to his face. "Oh really?" Gordon leaned a bit closer, "I'd think your breathing tells a different story."

He had a point, you clearly weren't hiding your excitement very well, but there were no way you were gonna admit that. One of his hands snaked it's way to your hip, making your breath hitch as it slid under the fabric of your shirt, while the other did what you anticipated for a while: grabbing a good portion of your ass, forcing another squeak to escape. You'd feel as if things were going too fast if not for the constant excitement he filled you with.

A smug grin appeared on his face once he felt how much you shivered from the bare touch of his cold fingers against your hot skin. This bastard clearly enjoyed having this kind of control over you. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel aroused by the attention. He was probably the first person to rile you up so quickly. He wasn't even doing much, and yet, you were already putty in his fingers. A cheeky smirk spread across his face and you knew it wasn't a good sign.

Before you could react, he pushed you back until you hit a wall, pinning you between his body and the cold surface behind you, caging you entirely with his form. His sharp, sly eyes scanned your face, obviously loving your helplessness. Not giving you a chance to respond, he slotted his knee right between your legs, teasing your slowly making itself known arousal.

"Nf-" Your weak voice cutting through the silence got him even more determined to hear other sounds you could make for him.

A small huff left his lips at the sound of your moan, a mocking laugh following right after. You wanted to punch that smugness right off his face, but you were currently too busy dealing with another problem. You hated when he was like this, acting like a total prick. And yet, at the same time, your body seemed to betray you, reacting to it positively. You were quickly losing the fight against his advances, too lost in the pleasure he gave you. It was so tempting to just give up and just ravish him, but you still fought to keep your composure. Why were you holding back? Because you didn't want him to have the satisfaction of confirming that he did indeed have you wrapped around his finger.

Gordon leaned closer until his face was right next to yours, his knee still grazing against the sensitive spot between your legs in an excruciatingly slow pace. Your hips chased the pleasant feeling, lightly rubbing against him.

"You poor, poor thing." He taunted you, the desire was clearly present in your look, fueling his cockiness even more. "I bet you just can't wait for more."

Any possible response you could tell him would only incriminate you further, so you decided it would be best to keep your mouth shut for the moment, instead replying with a soft groan.

His unoccupied hand gently reached to hold your cheek. "What's wrong, princess? Cat's got your tongue?" He asked, his voice annoyingly smooth and velvety. The name irritated your pride just a bit, causing your brows to furrow together, even though his teasing grew on you a little.

He chuckled at your expression. "Oh, don't make that face sweetheart, you know you like it." He stated confidently, knowing how flustered the pet name was making you, despite your efforts to hide it.

His hand left the warmth of your face, going lower now. Giving his knee a rest, his palm took the job of granting you pleasure, rubbing the fabric of your pants, uncomfortably stretched by now. You bit your lip when his fingers brushed against your erection, you felt far too needy to keep up your unfazed expression.

"Stop teasing," you warned, even though it sounded more like a plea.

The corners of his mouth went up as you gave up trying to act as if you were in control. He was probably enjoying himself to the fullest, you couldn't deny that at this point it was pretty clear who was driving this ship.

"'Stop teasing' or what, doll?" He repeated, his tone dripping in mockery and arrogance. "Are you gonna do something about it?"

Gordon's hand was still making friction, not letting your body ease up. His touch alone made it harder to think.

"I- I will…!" You tried to threaten unconvincingly, still trying to maintain the little bit of dignity you had left. His response in the form of an amused chuckle made your blood boil. "Shut up," you muttered through gritted teeth, annoyed at how much his attitude was getting under your skin.

Gordon took notice, his hand moving even slower now, as if to spite you. "I don't think I like your tone." He stated with a displeased hum, stopping all of his movements.

You couldn't hide the displeased expression. Finally deciding it was time to do something, your surge of confidence was immediately halted. You didn't expect his hand to slip under the waistband of your pants, grabbing you in an unexpected hold, making you gasp in surprise. He leaned down closer to your face once again.

"You should watch that mouth of yours." Gordon warned, his voice now slightly cold and serious. He had fun messing with you, but at the end of the day, he was the one in control, at least in this situation. Even though the house he was living in belonged to you, your whole body now urged for his attention. He had to remind you of that.

His thumb was now gliding over the tip, his pace slow but steady. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden assault. His touch felt hot against your skin, so you instinctively moved your pelvis against the grip. The small movement didn't go unnoticed by the other man. With his other hand, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him. "Is that clear?"

You hated how commanding he sounded and how it was affecting you. Gordon could be a real dick at the most inappropriate times, but it somehow was still working for him. You tried to glare, pissed off that he was dominating you like this, but the look came out way less resentful than you intended, and he knew it.

"I hate you." You mumbled. You heard a snort in response.

"Well, I don't think your body would agree with that." He teased, the hand inside your pants giving another stroke that sent the shivers down your spine. You groaned from the feeling, your head leaning softly against the wall. You hated it, you hated that he was so damn sure of himself when he did that.

He chuckled when he saw the conflicted expression between anger and pleasure on your face. He loved to see you struggle to keep your act up while he was clearly the one in control.

"You look so handsome like this." He mused. "And the best part is, you're all mine." He whispered, the last word making your heart beat faster. Why was he so sure of himself? Since when??

"Am I?" You inquired breathlessly, cocking your brow at his bold statement.

"Yes." He said, still radiating confidence, "if you want me to continue, that is."

"And if I don't?" You countered with a snarky note in your voice, trying to regain the power you felt you lost.

Irritation invaded his features, leaving as quickly as it appeared, instead being replaced with nonchalance. The challenge in your voice clearly getting on his nerves. His hands disappeared out of your pants, and you halfly regretted your words.

You bit down on your lip, feeling slightly annoyed with yourself. You wanted to provoke a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you got, but at the price of being left hanging.

"You know," Gordon said, his tone now seemingly less invested, "I suppose I've had enough of you for today anyway." He began to pull away.

"Have fun taking care of that yourself." He gestured towards your hard on, now painfully obvious.

"Thanks for the suit, though." He gripped it's fabric, as if to admire it again. "I guess I'll go looking for that job now."

You couldn't stop the frustrated forcing itself out of you. No way he was serious, he couldn't-

"Wait, no, please-" You blurted out, cursing yourself at how whiny you sounded. But he couldn't just stop after turning you on like that.

Gordon's face looked quite pleased with your response, he knew you'd have a hard time dealing with that by yourself. He stepped closer again, leaning towards you.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Your face burned with humiliation from having to be the one to cave in. You were the one in charge! He was the freeloader here, he shouldn't be pulling this kind of bullshit on you. You knew you had to swallow down your pride for this if you wanted to get what you craved, though.

"Don't leave." You choked out through the lump in your throat. "I'm sorry for being a smartass, okay? Just- ...please touch me."

Pushing out the words felt like having to vomit, especially when his smug expression was pulling at your nerves.

His smirk grew wider after your plea, completely satisfied from the position he reduced you to. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You decided it would be best to ignore his remark. Your cheeks felt as if they were on fire, you hated having to play his game. You shook your head, throwing away last bits of your pride.

"Good boy."

His voice was low, and the praise went right to your crotch. You were about to die from how embarrassed you felt, but you couldn't deny how his word affected you. It was worth it, you convinced yourself.

He chuckled, seeing how easily you reacted to his praise. He thought you looked cute like that, even though you tried to portray yourself in a more dominant light. It was endearing.

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke about more important matters. "Better take off that suit."

He tilted his head with an amused smile, were you commanding him?

"I don't wanna wash it if it gets dirty." You muttered, noticing how his expression softened once he got your way of thinking.

"Ah, of course." He complied, slowly undoing his buttons. The satisfaction was still present on his face as he watched your gaze follow his fingers, patiently waiting. He didn't even have to ask if you liked the view, seeing as your apparent boner spoke more words than you.

Finally, the fabric opened, giving you a good view of the pale skin underneath. After he finished taking the top part of his suit off his shoulders, he put it on the nearby chair. Your eyes couldn't help but admire his torso as he unbuttoned his pants too. He paused, noticing your lingering gaze.

"Not even gonna take off your shirt?" He asked, staring at your wholly dressed figure, his voice teasing and impatient.

"There's nothing stopping you," You shot back, starting to get impatient. He raised a brow at your reaction, a smug grin invited itself on his face again.

"Are you implying I should do it myself?" He inquired, interested in your request.

"Maybe I am." You quipped back, a hint of challenge in your tone. If he wanted to be in control so much, why not do everything for you?

Gordon chuckled while taking a few steps in your direction, closing the distance between you. The look on his face now resembled a cat that got a mouse in it's clutch. He put his hands on your sides, gripping the hem of your shirt. The smirk didn't leave his face as he leisurely slid the fabric up, over your head, pulling it off in one swift motion. You instinctively raised your arms, letting him undress you. When he finished pulling the shirt off, he tossed it next to the rest of the clothing, his gaze then falling on your naked torso. He had to admit, he liked what he saw.

"You know, you look better like that," He said, his eyes shamelessly roaming all over your bare chest. The comment wasn't expected, but you couldn't deny the shiver that went through your body after his praise. You really were a sucker for his words, it was embarrassing.

While you were trying to get your emotions in check, the man continued his exploration of your body, his palms touching and caressing it shamelessly. Your stare fixated on his hands slowly wandered lower, only now noticing the excitement present on his body. His underwear let you see it quite clearly now. You swallowed as you watched the obvious hard-on, you were so caught up in the view that when his fingers pulled down your pants, taking the boxers with them, you got a little startled. The cockiness was back on his face, amused at how distracted you were.

"Here we go, doesn't that feel better?" He said, glancing down at your obvious arousal. You couldn't deny you got bit self conscious as the feeling of cold air hit your skin. Gordon didn't seem to share the same opinion, quickly ridding himself of the underwear as well. He was quite proud of his physique.

And here you were. Standing naked. With the former owner of 2 record labels, a movie studio and 14 animal shelters. How did things manage to move so fast in so little time? You couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed, but you were also excited and nervous. The whole situation was surreal to you.

"Lie down." He instructed, not giving you time to think as he pulled you towards the couch. You fell once your legs hit the edge after he pushed you. You were glad for cleaning it beforehand, otherwise you'd probably have bits of Doritos stuck to you by now. On instinct, you leaned up on your elbows as your back hit the surface, but Gordon quickly pushed you down again, pinning you to the couch as he climbed on top of you.

"You stay there, doll." He said, as if sensing your urge to push back.

He put his hands on your chest, caressing your skin and running his fingers over it. He didn't wait any longer, starting to plant kisses over your neck and collar bones, tracing over the previously given marks.

The warmth of his member brushed against yours, sending a wave of electricity and impatience. You were both already aching for some sort of release, but Gordon had to take his precious time with you. Getting to see you at your limit was his main goal, overshadowing any other need.

"...Gordon," you finally uttered the sweet word he wanted to hear from the beginning. It was laced with desperation, urging for things to happen faster. You just couldn't take it anymore.

He knew exactly what you were begging him for, and he was going to deny you that for a little while longer. You felt his lips linger on your skin, sucking and nipping over the sensitive flesh, only silently looking at you with smug satisfaction.

"Please," you found yourself whining, "come on, just..." The rest of your sentence became incoherent as he moved his attention to your nipples, giving them the same treatment.

It was already driving you crazy when he suddenly paused, moving away from your chest to look at you again. Your eyes connected, as you were left panting impatiently. He couldn't help but grin, seeing what a mess he made you become.

"You need something, sweetheart?" He asked in a playful tone, he knew what you wanted. He just wanted to hear you say it.

"I need you to fuck me," you finally admitted, too annoyed at the excruciatingly slow pace he took. Your heart hammered inside your ribcage, eager for him to finally get on with it.

You had no idea how much it would affect him.

"Oh, I know." He deadpanned, his voice huskier now.

He leaned forwards, putting more of his weight against your body. His hips brushed against yours, making you let out a shaky breath.

"But do you think you deserve that after being a smartass?" he inquired, lolling his head to the side.

You bit down on your lip, a pang of frustration overtaking you. He was really going to make you go back to begging after you already embarrassed yourself the first time. You weren't sure if you could survive going through that again.

"I think I deserve that for letting you live here for free," you barked, honestly tired of his mind games. Your words seemed to be just what Gordon wanted to hear, soaking in the way he could get you pissed off. He let out a scoff, his eyebrows raised in amusement. He liked hearing your frustration, enjoying the attitude and confidence you showed.

"Please, just-" your words were shakier than you'd like "I can't- I need you, okay? Jesus, please, I-" You paused, closing your eyes for a second. His gaze was too intense.

He watched how your words became an incoherent mess as you continued speaking, taking in the image of you begging for him. The whole act of you being the one to give in drove him crazy. He hummed a few seconds to himself, seemingly considering whether you've shown enough vulnerability for him to finally give you what you wanted.

"Fine," He said with a sigh, finally taking some pity on you, as if your request was something annoying. " I'll give you what you need. Since you asked so nicely."

You were so desperate at this point, and he drank up the sight of you completely at his mercy, your body quivering under his weight. He really had you right where he wanted, he was going to make sure you would never forget this moment. Gordon leaned forward again, his body pushing down against yours. His head dipped down to your face.

"But first, say you belong to me." He sharpened his stare, focusing all of his attention on you.

"What?" You looked at him dumbfounded, not expecting that.

"I said, say... that you're mine. C'mon, Y/N. Don't make me wait." His tone was impatient, but in a dominant way. Somehow, him calling you by your name made an even bigger impression on you than his stupid pet names.

You blinked a few times, your brain starting to function again after the pause. "I... I'm... yours." The words sounded weird saying out loud, but you were ready to utter anything if it allowed you to finally be touched again.

The corner of his lips curled up into a satisfied smile, hearing the affirmation. You were finally starting to show the submission he wanted.

"There we go," he murmured. While he was busy cherishing the effect he had on you, a thought crossed his mind."Say it again."

"You know, this is getting pretty annoying." You finally spoke your thoughts, flashing him your unamused stare. It really was starting to get annoying. "You're gonna kill my boner."

You knew he probably got off to his ego trip, but really?

He snickered, amused at your response, grabbing both of your cheeks with one hand and squeezing your face degradingly. "Aw, is my buddy is getting annoyed? What a shame."

"I'll- I'll let you stay here for much longer if you finally get to the fucking point," he had left you with no other options. You had to use your last card.

At that, his eyes flashed with interest. Was this really the thing he was after this whole time? You almost felt heartbroken.

There was a long moment of silence, but you weren't sure if that was a good or bad sign.

"Interesting," he finally spoke, looking intrigued and satisfied. You were almost scared for what he was going to say.

"Are you offering to be mine? Completely?" His voice sounded smooth and collected, but there was an undertone of excitement to it.

Oh. Alright...? Was this his way of... asking you out??

"...Completely, as in...?" You asked, unsure if you got it right.

He chuckled amusedly, seeing you hesitate. "As in you'll only be mine. Nobody else's. That means no other people, no dates, no secret meetings, no nothing," His hand let go of your cheek, instead grabbing a lock of your hair and playing with it.

"...Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

He sighed, almost annoyed at your simple way of thinking. But to make things simpler, he gave in.

"I prefer the term 'mine'. Because that's exactly what you're going to be. Mine."

Of course, being treated like a disposable object wasn't really your taste, so you had to take a moment to think it over. The offer sounded risky to you. He was a self-absorbed, manipulative and obsessive man, you knew that pretty well by now. Not to mention he had some of the most ridiculous requirements you've ever heard of, while basically being a homeless man living in your house for the moment. He just- appalled you. How does a man like him even exist?

The silence stretched on, Gordon patiently studied your expression. He could tell you were hesitant, which was a natural reaction after he basically demanded you to be his plaything. At least that's what you thought he had in mind, judging by the way he said it.

"And... what do I get in return?" You questioned, looking him in the eye. The man seemed to be expecting that question. A smug look appeared on his face, as if he had already prepared a response for that.

"Well, you get me."

The answer was short and not very convincing, but Gordon was pretty confident that you would agree no matter what he said anyway.

You couldn't stop the light laugh escaping out of you. "I'm sorry, but- you're gonna have to lower your expectations."

A flicker of anger showed on his face, displeased by the sound of your mocking laughter. He wasn't expecting you to so blatantly reject him. He was so certain you'd say yes as soon as the offer left his mouth.

"What is it that you want, then?" He was irritated but still collected enough to ask that question. He couldn't let you have the upper hand now when he was so close to getting you. How could you not want him? It's true he didn't have much at the moment, but he would get it all back! And in the meantime, you should appreciate him as he is.

"I'll soon get revenge on Matthew, I will get my empire back-" He went on, until you cut him off.

"Respect, sweetheart." You put it simply, copying his way of using pet names. You were too smart to get used like that, and Gordon had to get it through his thick skull.

He suddenly snorted in disbelief, almost finding it laughable that those were your only demands.

"...Respect?" He had to make sure he was hearing you right. "And- that's all?"

He didn't believe you'd be so easily satisfied with just that, there must have been a lot more you wanted. But perhaps he miscalculated.

"I mean... I guess?" You said, thinking over any possible repercussions of your decision. "It's plain and simple. Don't be a dick. Well, at least cool it down a little."

He squinted his eyes, taking in the words he just heard. That's... That's all? You patiently waited out his momentary silence. Gordon had to pick his words carefully if he wanted to have you, and so his teasing was put on hold.

"Of course I will respect you," he tried his best to come off as sincere, but you saw through his fakeness right away. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

Raising your brow in an expression that properly conveyed your emotions, you spoke. "You better start with fucking me properly then." You were still on the fence about actually giving him a honest chance, but at this point, you couldn't care. You just wanted to get off. You'd give this relationship more thought later.

As if a switch was flipped, Gordon's movements became softer, more calculated. This was his time to convince you, and he had to use it well. He spit on his fingers like a gentleman, lowering his hand to your entrance, tracing over it teasingly before inserting one digit with precision. You groaned softly, adjusting to the feeling. His finger pushed further, then retreated, repeating the action in a slow rhythm.

You appreciated the gentleness, but the change seemed too drastic. I mean, you were not a total vanilla, and you kinda dug how Gordon took the lead - when he wasn't being a total dick.

"...You can still lead with your pace, just-" You choked on your words - Gordon immediately picked up the speed, soon adding a second finger, searching for your prostate. He found it quite quickly, making sure to abuse it. Moans kept falling out of you, and you thought you were gonna come embarrassingly quick. The precum kept leaking, and Gordon seemed pleased at your reactions.

"G-ordon-" You squealed meekly, your desperate voice sounding like a sweet melody to his ears.

"Go on. Come for me," he purred, keeping up with the steady pace. The strings of white soon dirtied your stomach, he didn't even have to touch you.

He slipped his fingers out, giving you a moment to regain his breathing. In the meantime, he applied additional lube to himself and then aligned his hips with yours.

"W-Wait-" You weakly protested, still feeling overstimulated from your recent climax, but Gordon was too quick, already pushing deep inside you.

Your squeak was muffled by the rapid slaps against your skin. Thankfully he stretched you enough so it didn't feel as painful, but there was still some lingering uncomfortableness that slowly subsided with each thrust. He pinned your wrists above your head, locking eyes with you. Your flustered and sweaty face was like a beautiful painting, he could look at it forever. He didn't have the time to adjust the glasses that fell lower on his nose, not stopping the rough movements of his pelvis.

Each shove sent jolts of pleasure, hitting the exact spot to make you whine. You threw your legs around his back instinctively, giving even more control to him. Even though the situation was overwhelming, it felt heavenly. He surely had lots of experience and it showed.

"You look cute like that," he huffed out, a tired grin remaining on his face, "under me."

"I'll treat you well," he continued, "as soon as I get back what's rightfully mine-"

He freed one of his hands to slither down onto your dick, ripe with overstimulation already. He started jerking it, though it was hard to do conveniently with the pace he established. Your breath stuck in your throat, feeling like you're gonna explode any moment.

"You're gonna beg for me," he groaned, "I'll f-fucking show you-"

Soon enough, his thrusts became uneven and deeper, he was almost near his peak, and so were you. Keeping in mind his task of swaying you over, he was polite enough to ask with a strained voice, "you want me to mark you?"

You managed to speak through your halfly broken whimpers, "y-yes, inside, please-" You felt too good to say anything else, too sucked into the pleasure.

Gordon did as you asked, bottoming out in you. Your release came as soon as you felt the pleasant warmth fill your insides. Gordon took a moment to calm down his labored breathing, ignoring the sweat uncomfortably running down his cheek. He pulled out, leaving the cum to drip out of you. You didn't have the strength to get pissed about ruining your couch, untangling your legs out of his waist.

A few minutes of silence had passed until you both composed yourselves. Gordon tiredly flopped on the couch after you bent your legs so he could have space to sit on, finally getting a moment to readjust the glasses on his face. You stared at the ceiling, just reminiscing about the moments that happened a few seconds ago.

You had to take a bath.

Lazily getting off the couch, you looked at Gordon. "I know you just did not too long ago, but do you wanna take a bath?"

He turned your way, positively surprised at your offer. You just fucked, not like it would be anything shocking.

"Coming," he said calmly, securing his glasses on the table.

Following you, you arrived at the bathroom. You ran the warm water and got into the bathtub, waiting for Gordon to join you. He did, opening up his legs so you both could fit. Even though your relationship with him got pretty messy in it's details, it felt pretty nice. Post clarity, probably.

You still had your doubts regarding Gordon's honesty about treating you right, but you couldn't deny, the fuck was very good. You could keep him around, even if just for this purpose. Any issues stemming out of this decision would be a problem for your futureself.

"Want me to wash your hair?" He suggested, tone sweet like honey.

"Uh, yeah." You turned your back to him, hearing the pop of your shampoo opening. He poured some water on your hair and soon his fingers massaged your scalp with the applied hair product.

It was pretty relaxing. His movements were gentle and caring, so you had troubles not letting your guard down. You closed your eyes, letting yourself just enjoy the moment. After he finished getting the liquid out of your hair, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. You leaned on his chest, appreciating the closeness.

"So, are you finally convinced I'm good enough for you?" He asked, putting his chin on your shoulder.

You hummed in thought lazily, "...Yea, I guess. I mean," you hesitated a bit but ultimately decided it wouldn't hurt your ego too much to spill out your honest thoughts. "I was already considering dating you."

"Oh?" He cocked his brow with interest, "Did you now?"

"Yeah. When you aren't a total asshole and a slob. You also look cute invested in that anime you watch."

He tried to brush it off, but you faintly heard the surprised sound escaping his throat. He then chuckled. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Cute isn't what I'd describe myself personally, but fine," he exhaled amused.

"...You still gotta find a job, though." You stated, feeling the need to say it. "I don't have the strength to work for two people."

His chuckle unexpectedly turned more devious. "Well..."

"What if I said that while it seemed like I wasn't doing anything, I was actually thinking of an elaborate plan, one that would get my empire back?"

You found yourself intently listening to his words.

"...Together, we will be unstoppable."

[desiresiwant]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4k~

warnings: strong language, eventual violence, a pretty much tamed 1st chapter…for now

a/n: this is the 1st chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

MASTERLIST | NEXT ->

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲 | 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗢𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒.

It wasn't how Deena imagined it to be the moment she stepped off the smelly bus onto the gravel sidewalk, with a packed bag hung across her shoulder and an old black suitcase covered in band stickers she used to listen to years ago.

She came a long way from Le Havre, France. Spent about seventeen hours on a plane and another two hours riding two buses to get here, stuck next to an annoying older woman spilling her lifelong secrets.

The sunny sky was touched with a gloom and many buildings looked as if they came out of the 1700s in American films with a modern touch to fit today's society. There were many interesting stores that had caught Deena's eye as she traveled down the sidewalk with no plan in mind. She enjoyed the urban touch of the city through the people and how together they were which was much different back home. Also, it was very much diverse compared to the small area she lived in.

She felt comfortable. At home.

Off the side of a group of friends passing through, Deena pulled out a picture of her beautiful mother in the arms of a man that's to be her father—Klaus Mikaelson.

Her mother was happy in this picture. They both were. In a black shirt hanging off her shoulders, ripped tights under a pair of shorts, smiling at the camera with a drink in her hand and her curly hair almost taking up half the photo. The man—her father, Klaus—sat leaned into her mother, kissing her ear with an arm thrown around her waist. He wore a basic leather jacket with dark blue jeans. Dirty blond hair, dark blue-greenish eyes, and a killer smile. The table in front of them covered in empty red cups and half-filled liquor bottles. They were both young, in college, and in love.

"I want to find him," Deena said to herself in a soft voice. "I need to find Klaus Mikaelson."

But the problem was if Deena ever found her father, she didn't know what she would tell him. She practiced what to say when meeting him, but it was all gibberish and uncompleted sentences that made no sense. She feared a lot of things about her father; him being married with kids and she would come into his perfect life and ruin the happiness he made for himself, no knowledge of his other child he had created across the globe. Or he was a dead-beat with nothing going for his life. Or he has long passed away.

But whatever truth lies in his life, she just wanted to see him. From afar, if needed. To see how he lived. And if he cared enough to know that the woman he met in this very city before she moved to France years ago, was now dead. But she selfishly wanted him to know that she existed.

...if she knew where he was. Or where to start.

The city was so big, nevertheless the state and because Deena wasn't from around—this was her second time ever in America—it was difficult for her to navigate or read the English signs she never learned. But she grew hungry and entered the nearest restaurant.

"Hey, welcome in! Take a seat anywhere," Greeted the waiter, passing by with both hands filled.

Most tables were filled as Deena searched for an empty spot.

Sensing the panicked teenager, the waiter stood before Deena after she finished serving a table. "Must be your first time here, so welcome. Just join a table with someone, anyone, but choose wisely; some people can talk more than they chew." She was picking at the older customer sitting at the counter who obviously heard what she said and sent her a squinted look with pursed lips. "That's the motto of the restaurant; To Meet A Stranger Along The Way. Eating alone doesn't mean you have to be alone. So sit anywhere and I or another waiter will be with you soon."

Deena sent the nice lady a smile. "I understand, thank you."

She pulled along her suitcase looking for a place to sit down. Most tables were occupied and many shared engaging conversations of their own that Deena didn't want to intrude, until she noticed a brunette sitting alone with a book in her hand reading quietly.

"Can I sit here?"

The girl looked up from her book and gestured towards the empty chair. "Go for it," she went back to reading.

She took off her backpack and placed it in the empty seat next to her before sitting down. The girl was young, or at least she appeared to be. Had to be around the same age, and she was very pretty.

That part Deena will keep to herself.

As if the girl felt Deena's complimenting stare, she tore away her gaze as the girl lifted her head from the book, but it was already too late since she was caught. "Have you read it?" She started. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Who hasn't?"

"I know right? It's for some stupid class, so the teacher's forcing us to read up to five chapters and come back to a pop quiz. Which, I know I will fail."

Both girls shared a short laughter.

"I'm Deena.” She introduced. “I'm new around here."

The waiter then came to take Deena's order while also setting down a grilled turkey sandwich with extra avocado and a side of fries for the girl. She finally placed down her book, giving thanks to the waiter before digging into her food.

The mouth-watering scent made Deena's stomach grumble. I’m so damn hungry.

"Davina," while washing down her fries with lemonade. "Not new here. But I noticed the accent. Where are you from?"

"France. More specifically, Le Havre." Deena replied. "You?"

"Born and raised. Also, don't hate me but the only place I know of France is Paris, but I'm sure Le Havre is a fun place to visit and live at."

Deena shrugged showing no offense to Davina's knowledge of France. She didn’t blame the girl since she knew nothing of the US besides New York, California, Florida, and Texas. They were normally the most talked about and the most used location in films. Also, it seemed a lot always happened in those states.

"It's cool. I actually didn't know Louisiana existed until a few days ago." Deena admitted.

"But here you are!"

She gave a small smile, agreeing. "Here I am."

Some moments later, the waiter delivered Deena's food; half cut Cuban sandwich with extra pickles and a sweet tea. She dug in without question.

Davina was a cool person to chat with. Easy-going, funny, and there was something about her energy Deena felt oddly connected to. Davina also felt an odd connection to Deena but brushed it off as she stuffed her mouth full.

There was a long list prepared for the day, but realized it was quite small and she had no starting point. I came here on a whim. With little to no planning, and childish hope.

But remembered Davina was from New Orleans. There's a possibility she might've ran into her father or seen him around somewhere. Or visited a store he owned. Or attended school with one of his kids. Or visited his grave.

"So, I was wondering since you're from around if you knew this man?" Deena wiped the oils from her fingers before reaching into her front backpack's pocket. Pulling out the photo of her mother and Klaus, she held it in front of Davina to inspect.

Davina noticeably froze upon viewing the photo. She had blinked a few times to make sure the man she saw wasn't just some random person she's misjudging but a man who was famously known throughout the streets and the supernatural world.

She pulled back from the table and picked at the grilled bread. "What do you want with him?" suddenly, she got hostile with Deena despite her pure intentions.

She knew him.

Deena sighed with relief. Davina obviously knew her father, but the cold tone she used when responding made her nervous. He must be married. With kids. Or nothing but a dead-beat. Or worse. Dead.

Deena returned the photo back into her backpack pocket with a shrug. "So you know him?"

"Yea, Klaus Mikaelson. Anyone who's done him bad or crossed his path on accident knows of him and his notorious siblings—"

"He has siblings?" Deena interjected.

"—oh yeah. Elijah and Rebekah Mikaelson and whoever comes back to life occasionally." She continued, slightly confusing Deena but she was happy to hear there's more than her father alive. "Terrorizing the city and the people who live within. Any person with a sense of mind would tell you to stay the hell away. You don't want anything to do with that psychotic man and his troubling siblings. His family is a curse to this city, to the communities, and they care for no one else but themselves. I'm sure the woman in that photo was killed by the hands of Klaus Mikaelson himself." She sneered.

Deena, not knowing this man nor his siblings personally, felt offended by Davina's harsh words because they were her family. And even worse, she accused her father murdering her mother. A beautiful soul who raised Deena with everything she could give her, found locked in her car with a letter admitting how unhappy she was with her life.

The smile on Deena’s face faltered to a deadpan glare as Davina bad-mouthed the family she had ties to. She noticed the change of her expression, but she thought nothing of it since she assumed she was doing good by scaring the curious French girl away from Klaus and far away from this cursed city.

Deena abruptly stood from her seat already gathering her belongings.

"W-where are you going? You haven't finished your— "

"The woman standing next to Klaus is my mother. And the man next to her, Klaus Mikaelson, is my father. And she wasn't murdered by him, she hated her life and everyone within it so she did the job herself." Deena vividly watched Davina grow with shock upon hearing Klaus was her father and was filled with sudden guilt from all she had said about her parents before. "But you are right about one thing; we are troubling. At least it keeps people away. So thanks for nothing. I'll find him my own damn self."

She wasn't sure how much the meal cost altogether and because the currency was slightly different, she left a big amount on the table which included a tip. She was out the restaurant in no time. Her head felt dizzy and she was hot all over heaving out steam, suddenly impacted by the overwhelming emotions she thought she had pushed back.

A month ago, Deena's mother passed away.

Her death made no sense. She was a cheerful woman who often hid away in her art studio painting and sketching for hours until it was time to pick Deena up from school. Students were often jealous because while other parents nagged on their child's grades and permitted curfews, Deena's mother never hovered over her shoulder about her grades and trusted Deena enough to be home within a reasonable time. And while other parents came dressed in their finest most classiest clothing for teacher conference nights or the school performances Deena was a part of, her mother came dressed straight out of a Fruits Magazine.

She was stressless, free, a kindred spirit, and an amazing mother. Sometimes Deena would forget her mother wasn't a close friend or an older sister despite having her at a young age. She was vocal about her problems and told Deena since a young age that "anger should never be placed into a bottle. Let the world hear you even if they say you scream too loud. They don't like Black girls expressing themselves in any manner if not with their heads down, so you must do it for the next little Black girl who's taking notes.".

But still, it made no sense.

The morning before she died, Deena's mother showed no signs of distress. She made banana pancakes, sent Deena off to school, and when she came home, her mother was working on a late piece for an art exhibition a friend in town invited her work to. She then left after dinner and was never seen for two days until Deena received a call from the police station. But it was questionable and she didn't understand it.

Why was she unhappy with life when she expected so much out of it? Why would she leave when she promised me the world? Why wasn’t she vocal with her depression in the same way she taught me to be vocal?

"Deena, wait!" Davina called out after placing down her half of the pay and rushed out the doors. She knew she was wrong for what she said and she felt terrible. "Look, I'm sorry! I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or bring your mother into this; I was only speaking from a personal experience which is no excuse at all. Next time, I should watch what I say. But..."

Deena kept walking. She struggled to drag her suitcase with her speed. The old wheels looked as if they were about to break off at any second, but she somehow managed to keep going.

Davina huffed annoyingly. "But I know where he is, Klaus Mikaelson," Deena halted her steps, facing the girl. "And I know where you can find him."

As Deena studied her face to find any spec of bluff hidden in her tone or written amongst her face, she saw she was telling the truth. She knew where her father currently hung around or lived, and of course, she wasn't going to question why or how she knew that kind of information.

"Where is he?" Asked Deena.

"The Abattoir. I can take you there since you might get lost. Also, you might want a travel buddy traveling in that particular area."

Deena sized the girl down. "Why? Will Klaus murder me too?"

"Again, I'm sorry about that." With her eyes narrowed, Davina apologized again. Deena still felt offended by what she said but since she genuinely felt sorry for it, about her mother at least, she decided to cut her some slack. She doesn't need an enemy on her first day in New Orleans. "Look, you're not from around and I'm sure you don't know about..."

Taking in Deena's blank stare, Davina then shook off the conversation and reached down for her suitcase. "Never mind, let's go."

Deena's hand was still on the handle, able to hold her grip from slipping it out her fingers and asked, "I don’t need your help. I can carry it myself." She tried pulling back but Davina somehow had the suitcase fully in her hands.

"It's about to break, I'm practically doing you a favor." She noticed the band stickers on her suitcase and claimed to have listened to some of them when she was thirteen.

Deena allowed her guard down and quickly followed behind Davina across the street before the main light turned green. She continued on about the particular bands she knew and who she used to stan and asked Deena about the bands she was unfamiliar with.

Somewhere during the conversation, "Thanks," it was soft but Davina caught it

She offered a soft smile. "You shouldn't thank me. I might not particularly like Klaus, but if he truly is your father, I wouldn’t live with myself by keeping you away from knowing him. At least then, hopefully, you might run away once you do."

"Is he really that bad of a man?"

Davina was quiet at her question. To her, Klaus wasn't just a bad man, he was terrible, and he almost killed her multiple times if it wasn't for Marcel having to save her. She wished she could tell Deena these things in hopes she would stay away, but no one wants to hear the bad of a man you've never met. Especially when he was your father. Family. It also wasn't her place to kill the image she might have of him.

Then she shrugged. "I will let you be the judge of that."

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. It was well kept for the most part but it was obvious this house had been through hell, Deena definitely thought Klaus was a deadbeat. This wasn't a family home, but it was a pretty big property. Maybe a rich deadbeat?

Together they stood staring up at the white doors ready to be knocked upon. Davina stared at the door with fear. Every witch sense coursing through her blood told her to turn away and run.

She knew she wasn't allowed here—that witches weren't allowed here, but she came to protect Deena.

Deena wasn't aware of the supernatural world or the fact that her father was a ruthless millennium-old psychotic hybrid, and what lies within the compound was an 'army' of hungry blood-sucking vampires who were already aware of their presence. Vampires who were too scared to leave Klaus if not slaughtered after the gruesome war against Marcel's army and enemies, and whoever they could rally up if Marcel hadn't got to them first.

Nevertheless, Davina watched her new friend lift her hand to knock on the door. Sucking in a deep breath, her knuckles were seconds away from alerting the vampires before something churned in her stomach. She quickly lowered her hand and hurried away.

"I can't do this." Deena panicked.

Davina lingered a bit longer at the door before rushing after her. "Where are you going? He's right inside." She shouted, dragging along the suitcase.

"I can't do it." She breathed heavily. "I-I don't know why I came here in the first place. And I hate myself for being curious, but I don't think I can do it. I should go home with the money I have left."

There was so much roaming through Deena's brain all at once. She thought she was ready to meet with him, but she wasn't, or at least she was convincing herself that she's not. But after losing the only family she had, Deena had grown lonely and desperate for someone to care about her and love her as much as her mother did. That's why she went through her mother's things. She trashed her mother's room, the kitchen, the attic, even her own room in the process. She didn't know what she was searching for until she discovered the letter.

It was meant to be given on her 18th birthday, a couple of months early.

But now that she was here, she didn't feel as pumped as before. Maybe she should've thought a bit longer on the idea before hopping on the next plane to New Orleans? Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself? Maybe this wasn't the right thing for her to do?

Davina grabbed Deena just as she was about to cross the street and tugged on her arm so that she was facing her. "Just breathe." She attempted to calm her down.

Deena rolled her eyes. "I am breathing."

"No, you're not. You look like you're about to pass out." Despite her annoyance, Deena forced herself to calm down. Once seeing she had, Davina narrowed her gaze before speaking. "I have no words to comfort you. Hell, I can't even comfort myself, but I can tell you, that you will regret not meeting him and him not knowing you. You have a chance that many kids don't have; I don't even know whether my dad is alive or not, but you do. And you should take it."

"I feel like I'm gonna ruin his life." Deena admitted.

Davina scoffed with a dragged 'please'.

"I'm serious. How would you feel living a life of your own for however many years and suddenly a seventeen-year-old kid comes knocking at your front door claiming to be your daughter? I would close the door in her face and continue my show!"

"If I was Klaus Mikaelson, I would be pretty damn blessed to have a kid with my blood in their veins at my doorstep. You never know."

"He must be a pretty famous man the way you speak of him."

She shrugged. "You can say that. But look," She took hold of Deena's hand. "Go meet him. Let him know who you are. And if you regret it, you can take the first plane back to Le..."

"Le Havre," she completed.

"Right. Le Havre. And I will be right here supporting you."

Davina was right. At least she had a chance to get to know her father while many don't and she shouldn't let the opportunity pass by. She sucked in a deep breath and began making her way to the white doors, but just as soon as she took her first step, she was stopped by Davina's stretched arm hitting her chest. She appeared focused, waiting for something to come.

She pushed away Davina's arm from deep within her chest, but she stopped her again.

Deena rolled her eyes with a huff. "You give me some go-for-it-speech and now you don't want me to seize the moment while I'm ready?"

"Something isn't right," Davina eased out with worry.

Deena would've guessed the brunette was another spiderman from an alternate universe the way she peered around her surroundings like a guard dog. Or spidey senses, she'd call it. She didn't see nor feel what Davina was and there was no one within their proximity when glancing around to catch what she caught, so she wasn't sure what had her on edge.

"You are right," Both girls jumped at the deep voice of a brown-skinned woman who spoke with a slight thick accent. She wore a green tank-top with dark blue jeans and she had to be around thirty years old, and she was looking at Deena as she came forward. "Something isn't right."

Despite the weird look, at least Deena knew she wasn't a stranger judging by Davina's calm expression and her tensed shoulders releasing.

She removed her arm from Deena's chest with a sigh. "Zoeè? What are you doing on this side of town?"

"I could ask you the same, harvest girl?"

Davina doesn't respond.

"I sensed someone—" Her brown eyes flickered to Deena. "—special entered the city and came runnin' soon as I could. And now that the cloaking spell has worn off and the prophecy is clear, all that I need to seal the deal is standing right in front of me."

Davina stepped in front of Deena in a protective manner once putting together two and two. "I don't know what this is about but let's not do it here. You and I both aren’t safe in this area—" merely glancing back. "—and she has nothing to do with this. This is between me and you."

Deena was clearly confused. "I'm sorry but who is this?"

"Don't matter who I am. What matters is what you gone do to our kind once the Mikaelsons find out you're alive."

Whatever happened, happen so fast that Deena was unable to process absolutely nothing. After Davina screamed out, she pushed her back and lifted her hands in a wizard-like manner before she was thrown against the building wall with no effort.

Deena followed the invisible force to the woman, Zoeè who's smiling back at her and scattered away. She would have ran after Davina, but her first instinct was to get herself to safety first and take a moment to digest what the hell just happened.

"Solem," With a flick of a wrist, Deena failed to cross the road before she found darkness and the cold ground.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read here

[tumblingxelian]

Honest question, what do you think a well-written "Jason lives" story would look like?

Like, if Death in the Family still happened, but Bruce saved Jason before it was too late, then odds are there would still be consequences resulting from how BADLY the Joker brutalized him.

Hmm, OK so with your starting premise and utilizing my knowledge of comics to come but also the fact that if Jason lived then certain ideas and plots would be nixed... While all still colored from my perspective, here is my general take:

So, first, rather than Bruce saving Jason I'd say Jason actually manages to save himself, either because he released his mother or managed to half talk her through disarming the bomb.

I know the original splash page has Bruce pulling him from the rubble but that makes zero sense even by comics standards, he and Sheila should be charred corpses.

So, the bomb is disarmed or they managed to get out cos he released Sheila and Bruce arrives to whisk Jason away to medical treatment with Sheila keeping his head above water.

The exact next sequence is harder to make sense of at first, but here's the thing. The original comic could let Joker get away with learning who Jason was behind the mask because he 'died' soon after and then 'came back'. He also initially mistook Tim for Jason. So, given his state of mind it can be... Tacitly tolerated that he never deduced or used Bruce's identity.

Here, that's a bigger issue and so I will say that to keep the tracks covered as much as they can...

Sheila is kept in custody because while Bruce is furious with her, she did keep Jason alive & separating them seems like a bad idea, though she is to be closely watched by Leslie & Alfred.

Unfortunately, the intel she gave him on Joker's plan was slightly false and she used her time to slip away to go after the clown herself, intent on a redemption arc.

There's messages, misunderstandings, truths revealed and another arrest that doesn't last, before Joker is once again in a helicopter trying to escape but this time with Sheila who shoots him, but he shoots her back as he lays dying and the helicopter crashes.

They cannot find Joker's body but Sheila stayed above long enough to die later, musing on where her life led her, the importance of getting a chance to do something, and that Jason is a real good kid, better than she or Bruce deserve.

This is deeply tragic, mostly conceptually and philosophically, but still.

This is enough to make Bruce sort of ease up on Jason, but at the expense of becoming more overprotective in general. Which is hard to argue with as Jason is doing physical therapy and Dick has a broken leg.

So the drama for the ensuing period is Bruce trying to bench key allies and family ETC, so he can keep them safe while still running himself more ragged, but not quite as terribly as his suicidal spiral in canon.

He also has ideas on sending Jason to a semi boarding school to try and keep him out of super heroics. If he succeeds, this plan will still fail and likely ends up forming the nexus of Jason's own mini team with Eddie and Rose. But also would fail to keep him out of Gotham sufficiently. Still he may be at Brentwood some of the time so one can justify solo Batman stories & some more school time adventures for Jason.

But before all that happens, we have a new player in the field.

The Spoiler!!!

That's right, into the arena is the one, the only Stephanie Brown. She's here to spill the tea and kill her dad, and maybe protect her community on the side.

Best part?

Bruce either does not know who she is at first, or has zero jurisdiction over her and can't gain any without revealing his identity or attacking a teenager for trying to help and she is slippery regardless.

Basically, one of the people who helps crowbar Bruce back into tolerating help is Stephanie basically keeping her original give no fucks about Batman attitude and doing her own thing.

Their relationship is likely a bit contentious and back and forth, far more hands off, not quite mentoring, but also less outright toxic than canon.

She & Jason probably have a thing and bond over some shared and different history stuff, but I don't see it being the mainstay relationship.

Young Justice is likely found eventually under similar circumstances, though Stephanie likely gets to be a member this time, as do Eddie & Rose.

I think the team would be less, Kon, Kid Flash & Robin and more like a cycling mass of active or present members, dealing with an overseer.

Basically a comic series to throw lots of different personalities power sets and problems together and see what dynamics emerge as popular.

After that, less sure.

My ideal is Jason goes to university or maybe has to stay with Young Justice or some other area full time and adopts his own hero persona while Steph gets a run as Robin alongside Cassandra as Batgirl.

Otherwise most major storylines, save one's reliant on Jason being dead, still happen. Steph likely has a less horrible time as Spoiler, but is also maybe always and forever more overtly on the outs so she might not get Robin as she might not want it. (Though maybe during No Man's Land...)

See what I mean about the plot drift?

War Games may still happen but probably with a very different, though not inherently better cos Bruce's plan was dumb, resolution.

Also Joker does return, sadly, and there's always likely a hovering question as to whether he knows the truth of their identities but its never confirmed, or isn't until he dies again.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Cars and Conversations (Part I)

Mulder and Scully have traveled a lot a lot a lot during their years in the basement-- surely, they had pretty cool conversations on the road?

Loose chronological order below~

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's

stars

As he climbs into the passenger seat of his father’s Lincoln, Fox yawns. The dashboard clock reads 5:03 AM and the smug tilt of his mother’s lips suggests that the early hour is the result of considerable negotiation. The tires crunch on the driveway and his mother waves at him absentmindedly from the porch as they depart. She doesn’t make a habit of smiling, but in the dark, Fox thinks something close might be on her face.

The drive is quiet this morning, save for the news on the radio and the whistle of the wind through the cracked window. Sunflower seeds sail over the glass and Fox takes a few out of the bag, chewing on them for something to do.

“How’s work, Dad?” he asks as they pass Fall River.

 Young Mulder is tossed back and forth by his begrudging parents.

the fbi basement bulletin board - Chapter 5 (Tumblr)

“Hm. Well you probably don’t need a medical professional to tell you this, but if you keep moving it around, it’s going to take longer to heal. You need to rest it.”

“Noted, doc. And you just missed the turn, by the way.”

S1 Mulder is bad at directions-- especially with a sprained wrist.

Local Radio (Tumblr)

Driving out to a little town in Indiana hadn't been in the original plan, but the business of Memorial Day weekend had removed flying as an option. They needed to reach their destination within 24 hours. So here they were, en route to another place that didn't even warrant a dot on the map (you've seen one, you've seen them all, he sometimes thought to himself).

Mulder is amused at a crazy radio station (and at Scully's reaction.)

Christine Leigh's (Alt. Ao3) Maybe?

"Okay, here we are." Maggie said this as she pulled off the highway and onto the road that would take them into Democrat Hot Springs. She was surprised that there wasn't more traffic. This town, if she remembered right, was supposed to be some sort of a resort area. Five more minutes, and they were in the parking lot looking up at the familiar sight of the neon arches, and that's all that mattered. 

Captain Scully is back from deployment; and Maggie senses something is off with her youngest daughter.

@thatfragilecapricorn30's (Ao3) Tell Me You Love Me - Chapter 1

“How do you know where I live?” he asked.

Scully’s cheeks reddened; she was hoping he wouldn’t notice or find her actions inappropriate. “It was, uh, it was in your personnel file. I wrote down your address after you called me at home after the last case. I figured I may need it at some point.”

Mulder smiled. “Just trying to see if you’ve been spying on me.”

Post Deep Throat Scully can't shed her keyed-up nerves after driving Mulder back home.

@scullywolf's (Ao3)

Eve

Her eyes narrowed. “How far up north?”

“California’s a big state, Scully.”

“I’m aware of that. How far?”

He decided there was probably something very interesting over in the corner that merited staring at while he answered. “About 300 miles. Give or take.”

Eve Mulder sheepishly wakes Scully.  

Red Museum

Sure, the old man wasn’t a member of the church, and similarities between him and Brother Andrew were all but nonexistent, but the cryptic “There’s something I’d like to show you,” with no further explanation, was enough to set her mental warning bells chiming. She was a grown woman, with a gun, but that didn’t mean she loved the idea of jumping into some random stranger’s truck after only the briefest of exchanges. Mulder joined her at the truck’s window, an unspoken question on his face.

Red Museum Scully communicates her anxieties to Mulder without a word.

Demons

The car company rep agreed to come and pick her up, and she sat down on the curb for only a minute or so before getting up again to pace off her nervous energy. A hundred horrible scenarios played themselves out in her head; at least ninety of them involved Mulder getting into car wrecks of varying degrees of seriousness. In order to keep herself from panicking, she tried to focus on the task at hand, which only made her angry that she was even in her current position in the first place.

Demons Scully has to call in a new rental car.

Drive

“All I’m saying,” she said pointedly, “is that it could be worse. We could be crammed in a room right now with a bunch of other agents, and instead we’re at least driving around through what you have to admit is some fairly scenic farmland.”

Mulder spared a moment to mourn their lost office. 

Drive Scully appreciates being out in the field with Mulder again.

Dreamland II

"...Mulder, I’m not proud of how long it took me to realize what was going on. I was about ready to drag you in for an MRI. Some sort of delayed-effect brain trauma from your trip out to the Queen Anne was the only thing I could think of to account for your dramatic change in behavior. Only it wasn’t you at all–”

“Well, you believe it now, and that’s all that matters. Now how do we fix things?”

Dreamland II Mulder and Scully catch up before heading back into the fray.

@cactustree's (Ao3) Fast Times and Slow Drives

She startles when she feels a warm hand on top of hers, and her eyes snap open as though jolted by an electric shock. She looks over to find Mulder studying her, his eyes darkened with concern.

“Watch the road, Mulder,” she murmurs, pulling her hand away from his.

“What’s wrong, Scully?”

Post Genderbender Mulder banters away Scully's apology with facts.

@h0ldthiscat's (Ao3, Alt. Ao3)

Survivor

She swats him away with one of her small hands when he touches her head and helps her into the car, but the look she shoots him lacks her usual antagonism, and the purse of her lips doesn't quite convince him that she's annoyed.

"Do you want another one of these before we hit the road?" He shakes a half-empty bottle of Gatorade at her as he slides behind the wheel, but she shakes her head once, firmly, and presses her lips together in a thin line, making them even whiter than they are.

Post Darkness Falls Mulder drives them home.

7. things you said while we were driving

She shoves the sunshade back up and clears her throat. “Can we go?”

He notices for the first time that her eyes are wet, that her chin is quivering despite her best attempts to control it. Remorse and guilt wash over him as he remembers an offhand comment from earlier in the week that explains her makeup, her nicer-than-usual suit, the set of her jaw. 

Post Never Again Mulder's remorse soothes Scully's feelings.

Can I ask for a fic tonight? :)

“Was the drive okay?” she asks.

Mulder jerks his head back to the still open door and says, “Ask your son, he drove.”

William appears in the doorway, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tawny hair in his eyes. “It was fine, Mom.”

“Good,” she says, shooting daggers at Mulder with her eyes, daggers that say she can’t believe he let their son drive in a snowstorm....

AU-- Revival era Scully is not pleased Mulder let college age William drive back in a snowstorm.

@crossedbeams’s (Ao3) I-Spy

‘I love this song!’ I explain, whizzing the twizzler I have pilfered from Mulder’s junk food haul around in some vaguely rhythmic pattern. I love music I just lack the skill set to express that love very elegantly.

Mulder chuckles at my enthusiasm and cranks up the volume, ‘I never would have had you pegged as a Clapton fan’.

S1 Scully tells Mulder about her family road trips.

@slippinmickeys's (Ao3, Gossamer)

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 25 (Tumblr)

The thing was, it was next to impossible to see out the windshield. 

Scully loved thunderstorms. Having spent a large portion of her youth in San Diego, they were still a novelty, even after years on other, more weather-prone bases and college campuses, and if she'd been home, she would have pulled up a chair next to her window and curled up there with a mug of tea, watching the light play in the sky and the water ping sharply against the glass. 

However, as a driver she was cautious, and with Mulder, well, she had a reputation to uphold: He was the engine. She was the brake. 

S1 Scully drives through a storm, donuts and a dozing partner included.

@brownies-and-tea/browniesandtea's Collect Call

“Mulder, it’s too late.” Scully sighed and leaned against the rain-streaked window of the car.

"I can't believe you're thinking fondly of that awful motel."

"I'm thinking fondly of a decent night's sleep." she stretched across the passenger seat.

S1 Mulder pursues a lead with Scully, from car to phone booth.

Ten's Learning to Breath (1/2)

In the elevator the women leaned him against one of the walls and kept talking to him, worried that otherwise he would go back to sleep and start sliding to the floor. Dana asked him questions, like his name and address, to keep him alert. She was relieved when she received the correct answers.

They got him into the backseat of Maggie's car, careful not to bump his head. Dana immediately raced around the car and got in the back herself. She fastened his seatbelt and watched as he leaned back against the headrest. He was asleep again before Maggie turned the key in the ignition.

AU-- Post One Breath Scully, Maggie, and Melissa are shocked at the state of Mulder's apartment.

J. C. Sun's Car Ride

My partner is next to me, as he always is, but for the first time in months, he's wearing his glasses. They make him look like an owl: a giant, somber six-foot owl perched in the driver's side seat. However, I doubt any owl has ever rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow and cradled a book in his lap, or chased the paranormal for a living. Nor do I think any owl has ever looked quite like him: the slightly twisted nose, the clear hazel eyes and the annoying, annoying little lock that, even now, droops across his forehead. It takes a wrench of will to resist the urge to reach out and to smooth it into place.

Post Firewalker Scully is bonded to Mulder now.

@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite's

transient luminous events

He is still just standing there, the sleeves on the turtleneck he didn’t need to wear pushed up at the elbows. She is suddenly, vividly aware of the car, of the hot metal and the smell of rubber in stagnant humidity. Duane Barry’s trunk smelled like a spare tire. Her mouth goes cloth-gag dry.

“Can we?” she asks. She waves her hand at the road ahead and wonders how she’s so sure of this: He’d have known what she was asking even if she hadn’t.

“Sure,” Mulder nods. He looks relieved. He grabs their flashlights from the glove compartment and hands her one, and the flood of Pfaster’s headlights behind her eyes softens and clarifies into two beams that will never outrun her. And they walk.

Post Irresistible Scully confronts Mulder on his bubble-wrap method of protection.

if you weren't so

She tilts her chin up at him, at the usual angle, and finds that the geometry between them is the same.

“I need to talk to you,” she says. “Something’s happened.”

Behind him, his not-wife drags a recliner over the threshold in reverse, yelling at the houses that all look like hers.

“I have to talk to you alone.”

She says “alone” like she always says it and wonders if she meant to do that. There are days when she’s sure she could leave him in the dirt and still wind up in a room with him at the end of the world. As they slip behind the truck, she's gripped by the idea that to Joanne Fletcher, she is the woman Mulder shouldn’t be with.

AU-- Dreamland II Mulder and Scully try to find a way back to each other.

theramblinrose's Irresistible - Chapter 5/Chapter 6

“I didn’t know when I’d hear from you,” Mulder said.

“I’m at the airport,” Scully said. “I’ve got a car. I’m driving in. I just wanted to call before I left.”

“Anything wrong?” Mulder asked.

“No,” Scully said. “Honestly—everything’s feeling pretty right, Mulder.”

AU-- Irresistible Mulder and Scully are juggling their new relationship, a surprise pregnancy, and the fallout from the nefarious Pfaster.

eponine119's Same Old Fight

-Turn it back, he'd insisted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel with the effort of keeping the car on the narrow twisting road, This is making me jumpy.

-I don't know why I let you drive.

-You didn't have any choice.

-Mulder, pull over and let me drive.

-No.

S2 Mulder rescues Scully after their blowout fight almost ends with an explosive conclusion.

Sneakers/sneakers's

Walter Skinner's 'From Left Field

"But I don't see why Skinner should care about the book. It didn't mention *him*, and it didn't even use our names." Scully stood in front of the bookcase, scanning the shelves. "We didn't divulge anything classified; I'm sure the reading public thinks the whole think is a joke."

"But they had the nerve to claim I ate *twelve* piece of sweet potato pie!"

She pulled the book down. "Skinner's going to complain about your eating habits?"

"But I *hate* sweet potato pie, Scully. You know that, remember? I turned green at the gills last Thanksgiving, when your sister-in-law offered me some."

Post Jose Chung's From Outer Space Skinner has his thoughts on the book.

Sweet Home D.C.

"But the reception . . ." She looked out the window at the 1 AM darkness. "I think we both need to get some sleep. Turn the radio back on if you want to."

He did.

<< . . . Sweet home, Alabama . . . where skies are so blue . . . sweet home, Alabama . . . Lord, I'm coming home to you . . .>>

"That guy's got something wrong with his head, Scully."

Mulder and Scully, switching songs and swapping gum.

Evil_Little_Dog's

Cassadaga Bound

Dana squinted out the car window. "I don't think there's enough room in this town for all the witches, or demons, or devils in Florida, let alone the world."

S3 Mulder detours he and Scully to a fortune teller's.

Travelogue

“We’re not lost.” Mulder shot her a look then turned back to the road, correcting for the drift. “We’re directionally challenged.”

Making a guttural noise deep in her throat, Scully glanced out the window.

Mulder, the car, and a ditch.

@sunlightscully's (XF Writing Challenge - Food)

They have perfected the art of car eating. The driver orders and pays and hands the greasy bag over to be unpacked. The passenger unwraps the driver’s burger. They share fries.

When he pays she asks for the bare minimum and nothing too expensive. He orders extra large milkshakes and pretends he doesn’t see her stealing sips. They compensate for each other. Ketchup has not been spilled in years.

Mulder realizes he loves Scully.

Starbuck's (FFN) Wake Me When We Get There

"Shouldn't be much longer, Scully."

She made no acknowledgment, lying her head upon the seat once again. He continued driving as she drifted in and out of consciousness. White line. White line. Yellow line.

"Wake me when we get there, Mulder."

Mulder keeps the volume down so his partner can sleep on the long drive home.

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk's (Ao3) drabble; pay no mind

Scully paces around the car, branches and leaves snapping quietly under her weight. But she’s not angry, not at all, or nervous. She occasionally bends down to steal a sunflower seed from him and pauses to crack it before continuing her little loops.

Mulder and Scully find their own ways to entertain themselves when the rental car breaks down.

@incidental-ao3/incidental's Febuwhump 2023: The Truth is Out There (And the Fic is In Here) - Chapter 18

“No, Mulder, I should be keeping you awake, you’re the driver.”

“But I am awake,” he argued reasonably. “So there’s no reason for you to torture yourself when you could catch another few hours’ rest.”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not torture,” she scoffed. He smirked.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. She scowled sleepily.

Scully tries not to fall asleep, and Mulder ruminates on life before lights.

@mulderbabe77's Taco Stands and Regrets

He pushed down a little harder on the gas pedal.

“Are you gonna throw up?” He gulped, hoping to hear a no.

“Nope,” she answered and for a moment he almost sighed with relief. “The other thing, I think,” she finished, grimaced again and held a hand to her cramping stomach.

“I’m on it!” He sped the car up a little more.

Ten minutes later they could see the exit just ahead. Mulder was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Mulder and Scully both get food poisoning while on the road.

@hamster-on-fire/fade_into_the_dusk_with_me’s For The Sake Of Driving (Ao3)

They’d do this sometimes. Drive. They were always driving, it seemed. But when it was dark like this & he was scared like this, or tired like this, or just utterly numb like this, it was different. The curve of the road up ahead could feel like a whole conversation; the silence, an opening, & they’d both sit there, like staring at a sterile wound.

Mulder and Scully help each other decompress on long, long car drives late into the night.

Timemeantnothing's On the road again

“We helped keep the Germans from getting Thor’s Hammer.”

“Mhmm,” Scully hummed, turning the corner.

“It was Einstein, Scully. We protected Albert Einstein.”

“That was very good of us to do.”

Mulder and Scully, driving: hot ladies, aliens, cheek kisses, Triangle rambles, and Millennium contentedness.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: I am a "separate the art from the artist" person through-and-through; but my lists will no longer be featuring writers that have blocked me-- tooooooo much drama has been kicked up over that issue.

[northoftheroad]

I know I just gave you an ask and you must be super busy, but what do you think abt Dickory vs Dickbabs?? Personally, I think Dickory is way better but in Tom Taylor’s run and the current runs, Dickbabs is the main ship. Anyways, I just wanted your opinion on it :D

Also thoughts on Tom Taylor’s run? I thought about it and I kinda have mixed feelings. On one hand, it’s great for fanservice and has some super cute and funny moments. On the other hand, the characters and their relationships are kinda one dimensional. Thoughts?? Take your time and thanks if you answer! <3

Hi, As I've said before (and I'm going to quote myself from older posts here quite a lot, if you happen to come across them 😉 ), I'm fine with both pairings as long as it's well written. I guess a lot of fans lean towards preferring what they grew up with and such like. I'm old enough to have started reading Batman when the idea of another Robin than Dick Grayson was ludicrous, and read the NTT in my slightly older teens. So I definitely have a nostalgic feeling for Dick/Kory.

I think they worked well because they were so different; they each learned from the other and grew as people. Being with Kory helped Dick become more emotionally open after some ten years of growing up with Bruce and Alfred. In NTT # 26, he talks about how he is too introspective and that Batman taught him to be guided by his head, not his heart. And in turn, I'd say Kory learned not always to be ruled by her emotions, and Dick helped to ground her on Earth. They had their fair share of problems, one obstacle was their different approach to relationships and sex. While Starfire is fine with being married to another guy, for reasons of state, but live with Dick, it takes Dick quite some time to come to terms with that he loves Kory enough to get over that. Dick and Kory were one of the most stable and loving couples in DC for over ten years. Now, in superhero comics, writers and/or editoral make the rules. There were plans to let them get married, but as far as I remember a change of editorial led to that being scrapped. We got Dick being raped by Mirage instead, and eventually, the couple split up. Disregarding that, I think you could very well see them growing apart. They were young when they started dating. I guess they were a couple for two-three years? At that age, it's not unreasonable to think they developed in ways that made them decide to go their separate ways.

If Dick and Kory were good because they were poles apart, I'd say Dick and Barbara are more alike. They have both worked with Batman; they are originally street-level detectives and athletes; they are used to work in similar ways. I could see them as a slightly more mature couple than Dick and Kory, being more in sync and relaxed with each other because they have similar backgrounds and shared experiences. (Which, of course, could make them a more boring couple in fiction…) I'm not a fan of the retcon that they've been friends since school, but they did work occasionally together as youngsters, so it can still make sense to write them as really good friends, imo. I honestly think Dick and Kory have been written as a good couple more than Dick and Barbara. Maybe things had been different if Devin Grayson had got the chance to tie up her long arc with Dick in Nightwing vol 2. Not that I think her run was without its problems, but it would presumably have been better if she had got the opportunity to finish what she started. The ending (or rather the absence of a decent ending) of her run, and the fact that the first Nightwing stories after Infinite Crisis were downright cringeworthy, has soured my impression of her writing of Dick/Babs. So I guess editorial decisions have ruined both Dick's most important relationships…?

I don't know if you're new to the debate about Dick/Kory vs. Dick/Barbara? Because it's sometimes a heated discussion, with people claiming he doesn't deserve either of them, he mistreated one or the other etc.

(Here's what Barbara herself had to say about Dick, by the way. In Birds of Prey # 71. By Gail Simone, art Ron Adrian and Rob Lea.)

I can definitely work myself up too much about fictional characters myself, but there are a few things I try to keep in mind… Fictional characters have no agency. Creators and editoral use them to tell stories (and sell stuff…). Don't get angry at fictional characters or, even worse, real people who love them. Also, reading comics is a lot about filling in the blanks between panels, and different readers can put a book down with very different pictures of what has happened. You can absolutely find examples where Dick has been written as behaving badly against both of them. Sometimes, it's a reasonable part of the writer's long game, sometimes it actually is bad and out-of-character writing. (And if you look, you can find examples where the women have been written as behaving badly against Dick too.)

Honestly, the most important thing for me when it comes to Dick and relationships is that he takes them very seriously indeed. Dick has not had a lot of one-night stands and is on record as saying he's not comfortable with casual sex. When he had one with Helena/Huntress, he wanted to talk about starting a relationship just because of that. When he (fake) married a girl to try to expose her as a murderer, he still avoided to sleep with her, and then he offered to stay with her when the case was closed, because he felt bad for deceiving her. Outside the blasted annual, I don't know of any time he was written as (knowingly) having sex with someone while he's in a relationship with another. Girls tend to break up with him, not the other way around. I'm sure other people have different ideas, and it can vary between writers and eras, but I think you can read Dick as someone who likes to be in a relationship, to be intimate with someone – but who's not into casual sex.

When it comes to Tom Taylor's run, I pretty much agree with you. I don't hate it, as some people seem to do, but I think the art has been the best part. It's mostly been pretty meh, TT has at several times spoken about how Nightwing is an A-lister among DC superheroes, but I don't think he shows it. And here and there he produces some really nice panels/pages (sometimes it's up to debate whether the characters are out of character or not). We're heading towards the end of his and Bruno Redondon's run and they've hinted he's going to stop being Nightwing. As if we need a third period of Dick not being Nightwing in ten years… 🙄 The best writer of Nightwing vol 4 was Sam Humphries, in my opinion. Unfortunately, it was very short.

Ok, this post has definitely gone on long enough... but if you want to go deeper into the rabbit hole, here are some earlier posts.

[snowyh2o]

Anyone else notice how after Alastor introduces himself to Adam, Adam makes a comment on his voice and then somehow immediately makes the leap in logic that Alastor likes or is connected to jazz?

Like, all Alastor said was his name, and while we the audience know he likes jazz, nothing about his name should clue Adam in on that information.

Even if Adam recognized the name Alastor as the Radio Demon’s (considering he did recognize Angel’s name lol), I doubt the rest of hell would know about Alastor’s music preferences. Which would be where Adam should be getting his information from if it’s just General Knowledge about the popular figures in Hell.

Adam also knows Alastor’s connected to radio, which isn’t really obvious considering Alastor’s character design doesn’t lend much to the radio aesthetic aside from the filter on his voice and the transatlantic accent he uses. And none of the powers he was using during the fight were even radio related.

Which leads me to suspect: Adam has never met Alastor before, BUT he’s heard of him from someone else. Someone who knows enough about Alastor that they told Adam about his music preferences, his connection to radio, etc.

And another thing, Adam had every chance to finish Alastor off while he was panicking/recovering from the first hit. Adam would’ve had all the time in the world to kill him if he wanted. Which, I don’t think Adam did since he literally watches Alastor retreat into the shadows and lets him go. (<- I originally thought Adam didn’t deal a killing blow on his first hit on purpose, because he totally could’ve, but rewatching the clip slow-mo I noticed that Alastor actually notices Adam’s attack and tries to dodge, he leans backwards right before Adam’s attack hits. This supports Alastor’s song bit about escaping death by a hair, if he hadn’t leaned back when he did, there’s a good chance he’d have actually died.)

(Not to mention the suspicious lack of angelic weaponry when Alastor confronted Adam, though jury’s out on if that particular happening was due to arrogance, stupidity, or some unknown plan he had up his sleeves which evidently failed.)

I’m not really a subscriber to any theories on who Alastor has made a deal with, BUT the evidence here, the connection between Adam and Alastor, only points to one other character right now.

We know Lilith made a deal with Adam. We know that Alastor disappeared around the same time she did. We know Adam has never met Alastor in person before, but there’s strong evidence to suggest he’s heard about Alastor from someone who knew him well. We see Alastor choose to not bring any angelic weapons into his fight with Adam, and Adam in turn choose to not follow or kill Alastor when he’s distracted and lets him escape.

I think this points towards both Alastor and Adam being aware on some level of each other’s connection to Lilith, and then independently deciding that they won’t kill the other because of said connection. And I say independently because while Adam lets Alastor escape, Alastor’s reaction to his near death experience is genuine— he fully believed that Adam would’ve killed him if he hadn’t run.

There’s some holes in this idea that I’ll point out here:

Firstly, Adam was gunning to kill Alastor. Alastor only lives that first attack by leaning back just as he got hit. Adam suddenly deciding to let Alastor go could also be his way of mocking Alastor. Because the guy talked big but then ends up running away, and I think Adam’s the kind of guy who’d find that funny. (His little “Bye bitch!” And wave while leaning on his axe guitar)

Alastor not bringing an angelic weapon to the fight can be, as stated earlier, for a multitude of reasons. He’s under orders not to kill Adam, he decides he shouldn’t kill Adam, he thought he could kill Adam with his own hands, the plan wasn’t to kill Adam but to keep him distracted, etc.

The Lilith Knows things about Alastor and then telling that stuff to Adam implies that Lilith would’ve had to have known Alastor long before they went missing 7 years ago. Or specifically, that 7 years ago Alastor didn’t disappear due to a deal he’d just made, but potentially one he made ages ago. This also implies that Lilith and Adam could hold a cordial conversation long enough for Lilith to mention details about the people she knows without the two of them clawing at each other’s throats.

The implication that it has to be Lilith who passed the information onto Adam. Technically, it’s possible that any of the big contender’s (Roo, Eve, Lilith) could’ve passed the information onto Adam, Lilith is just the most likely candidate given what we know. We know that Adam personally attends every extermination, that’s ample opportunity to confront him for a chat. Probably how Lilith got her deal with Adam in the first place.

This entire theory hinges on it being very odd for Adam to make the leap from “radio voice” to “liking jazz” in the time it takes for Alastor to introduce himself.

[her-devils-advocate]

Through the Mist | Part 3

pairings: Femshep x Garrus

summary: When a routine mission to rescue and recruit a handful of scientists goes wrong, Shepard and her team are left to fight against something they had never expected to face. Now stranded on a heavily fog-covered planet, they realise there is more to the strange weather than they originally thought, especially when they hear things from beyond the fog; calling for them.

word count: 4,742

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60592000/chapters/155683033

Part 1 | Part 2

Shepard limps aimlessly around the room. All of Garrus’ consistent protests for her to sit fall on deaf ears as she relentlessly searches every nook and cranny for information. Despite her meticulous rummaging, her attempts lead her to nothing but dead ends. Her hands curl into tightly held fists and despite the thick material protecting her hands, she can still feel her nails digging into her palms. 

The sensation helps to ground her, if only for a fleeting second. A million thoughts begin to rush through her mind as she forms plan after plan, each one falling short for one reason or another; not enough information, not enough visibility, or not enough people.

“You’re not enough,” she thinks briefly, the thought shocking her out of her hyperfocused state. It rattles around her brain, hitting every concealed sore spot with deadly precision.

The lamp flickers, casting an array of shadows around them for a brief second. It was only a slight flicker, barely noticeable under any other circumstance, and yet Shepard felt her lungs constrict. Her past experiences have trained her to assume the worst at all times.

She watches as Garrus falls back into his past C-Sec mode, still scanning through dozens of old reports and making mental notes of anything that stands out to him. He works silently, with the occasional hum breaking her concentration and pulling her amused eyes over to his corner. 

He stands still besides the occasional shuffle to keep his legs awake. The clinking of metal and rustling of paper encase his space while his mind processes everything. She watches him tilt his head to one side, deep in thought, before slowly nodding to himself in agreement—a gesture of hers that has rubbed off on him, no doubt.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” He mumbles to himself, flicking through the same report for the hundredth time. He turns to meet her gaze, gesturing down at the collection of records. “Nothing here seems to be relevant to the planet or the research bases. It’s like someone’s made a collection of random reports to throw people off their trail, nothing is linked.”

“What sort of stuff is it?” She asks wearily, half-expecting the bad news before it had been delivered.

“Noveria stock reports, biology reports on all council species, Attican Beta transport routes, ‘The Art of Live Subjects’: A published dissertation by Dr Ross.” He reads out before dropping the datapad back onto the shelf. “You’d think someone would have left at least one piece of evidence behind.”

“If it was a harmless project that went wrong, then maybe.” She says, her mind filtering through what little information she has. “But from what we’ve seen already, I don’t believe any of this was a mistake.” 

“Cerberus?” Garrus asks, his voice hardening as he struggles to hide the small growl threatening to follow the word.

Shepard simply scrunches up her nose and shakes her head, “It better not be, otherwise I’m going to be even more pissed, but I don’t think it's them this time. As resourceful as they are…The stuff it…” 

She trails off and her shoulders relax when Garrus picks up her sentence for her, “Hm, you’re right. It was far too personal, almost tailored to hurt us in a specific way. Even with their connections, Cerberus couldn’t have that much accuracy on our weaknesses.”

“Yeah, about that, how are you doing?” The words come out hurried, as if speaking of the events might summon a new round within their sanctuary. “I know I said we’ll talk about it on the Normandy, but that was… intense.” 

He gives her a half-hearted shrug, “No better than how you’re probably doing, all things considered. It was weird, but it’s nothing I've not already told myself anyway. You were right before though, we will have time to spill the lions or whatever once we’re back on the Normandy and not waiting for it to strike again.”

That startles a laugh out of her, and if the proud smile on his face is any indication, his plan was a success.

Now safe from what awaits them in the fog, Shepard finally lets herself drop down against the wall. Her armour clunks against itself while she shuffles to rest her injured ankle on top of the other. The pain throbs up her leg, the swollen appendage pressing painfully against the firm fabric of her boots. She lets her head fall back as a new wave of pain washes over her, all the adrenaline that had kept her active now fades away into bone-deep exhaustion. Her mind feels like it’s been set alight, buzzing with ancient anxieties and long-buried memories that have been dredged back to the surface.

Her skin prickles and a heavy weight falls over her like a blanket. Familiar feelings overtake her, feelings that she has since tried to forget: regret, loss, and helplessness. 

It has been a long time since she let the sensation of failure fall over her. With too much to do and far too much to lose, it had been much easier to push them deep down. 

The room suddenly feels too hot, a sickly oppressive feeling seeping in through the cracks and into her flesh. The walls close in on her and Shepard has to bite her tongue to hold back the strangled groan clawing up her throat. She suddenly feels like the scared sixteen-year-old girl she was and not the thirty-two-year-old, battle-hardened woman that she is.

The safety of the building is beginning to feel more and more like a gilded cage, whatever respite she had is being rapidly sucked away from her with each passing second. Something unknown sneaks inside of her, urging her to move. The stillness burns at her flesh.

“This is all your fault, you brought them here. And now one of them is lost, dealing with who knows what.” Something whispers in the back of her mind in an unrelenting caricature of her voice.

“Do you think James is alright?” She asks if only to drown out the thought. Her eyes are trained firmly on the ceiling.

Garrus pauses his work for a moment as he considers her question, “We’ve gone through worse so I doubt he’s in trouble. He probably got the lucky side of things and reached the others to let them know the situation.”

“Have we?” Shepard’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper as she lets her eyes fall shut. “Gone through worse, I mean.”

“Shepard?” The concerned trill of his subvocals floats around her, loud enough to fill the small room.

“Can you honestly say you’ve been through worse than what we’re currently up against? It’s not like we can exactly shoot our way, or talk our way, through this.”

“Well…Yeah, I can, Shepard.” His voice is tense and he awkwardly shuffles to lean against the wall, idly adjusting his gloves just to have something to do with his hands. “We’ve already gone through the stuff it’s throwing at us. As much as it hurts to re-experience, it’s not exactly new to us, in a way.”

That catches her attention and she slowly drops her eyes from the ceiling to fall upon him. She can’t read his expression, which is rare for her after all the time spent by his side, yet the look in his eyes causes her heart to crack.

“Garrus… I’m sorry, you’re right. What would I do without you?” She lets out a long breath, feeling her lungs and eyes burn. 

“We both know you would kick just as much ass with or without me, Shepard. I’m just here so you can do it in style.” He tries to joke, but the words come out too slowly, his voice wavering with each word. “I’m scared as well, for the record.”

Her eyes fly open and her head snaps to look in his direction. Garrus is avoiding her gaze, purposefully shuffling his evidence around as if it could drown out his admission. Her protective instinct wakes up from its slumber and she slowly rises to her feet. She has to use the wall as leverage, palming at it firmly while she shuffles over to the door. She runs her hand through her long hair, parts of it falling loose from the braid she wears during missions. 

“Where are you going?” Garrus asks warily, refusing to look away from her.

“To get some air and to check our surroundings, there’s no point in having both of us cooped up in here. I might as well make sure nothing is trying to break in while you scan through all those.” She waves her hand in the direction of his small pile of records and datapads, neither of them willing to address the way her hand trembles.

“Are you insane, Shepard?” He counters automatically, his voice echoing in the space between them. She turns to stare at him with a single, slender eyebrow raised. He breathes in slowly, holding his breath as he considers his words. “Look, we don’t know what we’re up against. It’s your call, but… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Alright, so I’ll stick my head out of the door and shoot anything that approaches,” she says bluntly.

“Spirits, Shepard.”

“We’re never going to know what we’re up against if we stay hidden away in here, Garrus.” She argues before relenting, giving him an apologetic smile. “Look, I understand your concern. I’ll keep the door open and I won’t leave your line of sight unless it’s strictly necessary, okay?”

Garrus gives Shepard a long look before slowly nodding. He turns to lean against the wall so he can watch her, grumbling something about “stubborn humans going to give their boyfriend an aneurysm” under his breath the entire time. She gives him a soft look before flaring her barrier and letting its soft, blue light encase her form.

She opens the door slowly, her body thrumming with built-up biotic energy at the ready. The air is still as if the breeze they felt upon their arrival never existed. The pair hold their breaths as the fog snakes its way into the room, yet nothing follows. The night is silent, no shuffling or groans breach the darkness. She strains her ears to be certain, not wanting to be ambushed by god knows what, but the only thing she hears is the frantic thumping of her heart. Shepard lets out a relieved sigh, her body keeping up its protective glow.

“See, everything is fine.” She says casually, her tense shoulders doing little to help her calm facade. 

“Sure, but that doesn’t explain where the horde of corpses went. They have to be out there somewhere.” Garrus calls from his corner, watching her like a hawk. 

Shepard shakes her head as the fog curls around her, feeling heavy on her flesh. She lifts her arm and extends it out of the door, she’s mesmerised by how it floats around her and sneaks into the small gaps in her armour. “Do they?”

Garrus cocks his head at her, he carefully places the datapad to one side before rising to his feet. She watches him for a moment before turning her head to stare outside. She lets the fresh air wash over her, cooling her skin. As she stares deeper into the darkness, not a single star or moon in the sky above, she spots something. Someone.

She squints, willing her eyes to focus while her hand twitches with the urge to grab her rifle; if only to feel the comforting weight of it in her hands. The figure moves closer and the fog almost seems to part itself to reveal the person within. She feels her heart stop before solace sparks through it instead.

“Vega?” She calls, hope blooming in the words. She’s already moving, letting the fog pull her further outside. “Garrus, stay here.”

She hears Garrus sprint forward, not caring about damaging any of the reports scattered around him as he reaches to grab Shepard’s arm. 

She’s too quick and is instantly swallowed by the consuming darkness, leaving nothing but mist in his grasp.

“Shepard?” Garrus shouts into the night, the words coming out frantic. She turns to give him a reassuring smile, only to find that she is alone. Her smile becomes strained and her cheeks begin to ache from the expression now frozen upon her face. 

Where the building had been just a second ago now sits an empty void, fog and darkness as her only companions. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, the thick air sticking to the back of her throat. A rare, yet naive part of her hopes that once she opens her eyes, she will be back in the room. Garrus will be in his corner complaining about a lack of evidence. 

Too late to regret her every move, she exhales slowly. She opens her eyes to stare into nothingness once more.

She grits her teeth, “Garrus, can you hear me? I can’t see you.” Her words come out desperate, her lower lip beginning to wobble. There is no answer and she has to bite back the shaky sigh that threatens to escape her. “For fuck’s sake.”

Her heart begins to race and her hands begin to shake, but she pushes forward towards James. She had already let him slip from her side once before, this time she refuses to let him be snatched away.

“Garrus will be fine, he’s inside the base. Just grab Vega and find wherever the base is. Then we will get the hell out of here.” She mutters to herself, believing her own words less and less. 

She hobbles over to the younger soldier, glad to see that he’s unharmed despite everything that’s happened. She reaches out to pat him on the shoulder but makes no contact, her hand slides right through him as he flickers in the fog.

“...James?”

“Commander,” he answers, his voice disjointed and wrong.

She stares up at him, her pale eyes morphing into a glare. “What are you?”

James lets out a low laugh, the sound coming out deeper than normal. “Can’t you tell, Lola? Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

She freezes, completely taken aback by his words. The eager lieutenant would never dare to speak to her like that. She wants to argue, to demand what it’s done with her squad member, but James pins her with a cold look.

“Nah, I guess you’ve always relied on luck, haven’t you?” He begins to circle her like a shark, the movements are sharp and jagged compared to his usually casual actions. “Is luck gonna win us this war, Commander?”

“I don’t know what you are, but you’re wrong,” she replies while his words stab at her heart. “We are going to win this war, all of us, united together to defeat the reapers.”

“Uh-huh. How can you unite a galaxy when you can’t even help yourself, Commander?” James looks her up and down, appraising her before scoffing, the action expells a small puff of fog from his lips. Shepard feels a hot flush of anger and moves to jab a finger at his chest, feeling more fury when she simply phases through him.

“I don’t know what you are talking about considering we’ve done a fairly good job so far. We have the turians, the krogan, the quarians, the geth, and even the rachni.”

James just smiles, his eyes dull and void of life. “What about the asari? What about Thessia?”

She bristles, white-hot guilt running through the fresh scar. Since the invasion of Earth, things haven’t been perfect, but Thessia was a whole new level of misery for her. Shepard’s jaw tenses and her teeth grind together while she slowly builds her composure back up, small brick by brick. “Thessia was…a failure.”

“Yup,” he drags the word out, letting the sharp pop of the word ring through Shepard’s ears. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so careless, Lola.”

“What?” She asks coolly.

“It’s not like you to rush in so carelessly, is all I’m saying. You hardly had any info and it’s not like it was a time-sensitive mission. But you just charged in and dragged us into hell with you, all because Hackett asked nicely.” He replies, his tone equally unfriendly as his eyes bore into hers. “What were you hoping to achieve with this mission, Commander? Redemption? Payback? To prove that you are still worthy of our support?”

“I was…” She clears her throat, letting conviction fill her voice, “I was doing my damn job. We need people to build the catalyst, so Hackett sent me to get people.” 

The figure with James’ face just laughs, the sound is harsh and ragged against her ears. She clenches her hands into fists, teeth digging into her cheek as she stares at him. She watches as his mirthful face warps and flutters before he fades from sight, “keep believing that and you will stay lost, Lola.”

Shepard is left alone in the darkness. She is alone and cold, and as much as she would rather die than admit it out loud, she is very afraid. The black void around her sinks into her heart, weighing it down. 

She drops to her knees and her armour cushions her fall. She presses her forearms against the ground, leaning against them and feels as if her body is made out of lead. She lets her head drop, her inky hair covering her face as she struggles to breathe.

Her chest is tight, too tight to allow enough air to pass through her lungs. Her chest burns with each attempt. Her fingers curl against the floor, digging in as deep as they can as she gasps for air. Panic claws at Shepard’s throat with an icy touch, her fingers move of their own accord to mimic its ghostly caress; her chest begins to heave with every syncopated breath.

“What a sight,” she mutters miserably, “the renowned commander on her knees in the middle of a mission. Another mission that I’ve fucked up as well.”

A gentle touch on her shoulder sharply brings her back to the present and she jumps to her feet with a strangled gasp, instantly unholstering her rifle in the process. Her muscles ache from how tightly she holds herself together and she stares up at the turian standing in front of her with wide eyes.

“Garrus?” She chokes out as she lowers her weapon and attaches it to her back. She gives him a watery smile as she moves closer, seeking comfort in his presence. “You startled me there, big guy. Did you have to sneak up on me like that?”

He just shrugs, his mandibles flicking out too quickly for her to discern the emotion.

“Did you find anything?” She asks quickly.

He repeats the action, looking over her head and deeper into the night. Shepard tenses and crosses her arms against her chest to hide the shiver that shoots through her.

“Did something happen to you as well?” She tries again, trying not to take offence when he simply looks away again and begins walking away. “It’s alright, Garrus. It’s difficult now, but we will make it back home.”

She has to scramble to catch up with him, his longer legs letting him cover more ground. Worry gnaws away at her while she watches him out of the corner of her eye. He wears an expression that she can’t quite pinpoint, his mandibles are too stiff and his eyes are unfocused. Without any warning, his pace begins to quicken, turning into a small jog. She tries to match his pace and her ankle protests with each step as she runs alongside him.

She grits her teeth and pushes through the pain, refusing to leave his side again. His silence unnerves her. Each moment slips by without a word, only the sound of their boots hitting the floor and her muffled groans accompany them.

He comes to a sudden halt, staring down at the ground with a frown.

“Garrus, what’s wrong?”

“You really wouldn’t be able to do anything without me, would you?” His voice cracks out at her like a whip, the duel tones of his voice ringing out with his discomfort.

“What do you mean? Where is this coming from?” She keeps her voice sharp, hoping that the bluntness of her regular ‘commander voice’ can hide the hurt within.

“Where is this coming from?” He repeats, disbelief colouring his words. “Maybe the fact that I have done everything for you. I left my job at C-Sec to follow you. I was ready to throw away my life for your suicide mission. I am the only reason you haven’t worked yourself to death and lost us this damn war.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but no words come out. Garrus stares at her before rolling his eyes and continuing, “But what have you done for me, Shepard? You weren’t even there for me when my mother died.”

“Garrus, I was under Alliance custody. I would have done everything in my power to support you regardless. But I was locked up without any form of contact or information.” Her voice wavers and she can feel her pulse race.

He moves closer, now towering over her. She refuses to meet his eyes, unable to cope with what she might see in them.

“You always have an excuse, don’t you?” He lets out a hollow laugh, moving closer. “And why were you in Alliance custody again? Does the number three thousand and five hundred ring any bells?”

Shepard feels something snap inside her, a burning coil that warms her chest and laces her tongue with a bitterness she only reserved for the mirror. “No, you do not get to use that against me. You don’t get to use any of that against me. It was the Bahak system or the galaxy, I didn’t have much of a choice and you know that. I know you do.”

He gives a lazy shrug. His mandibles flick out and he opens his mouth to reply before she interrupts him, “I’m not finished. You have always had the choice to follow me, so don’t put that on me if you’re regretting it now.”

“Yes, because you are perfect and can do no wrong.” He moves closer, the fog growing more opaque. 

“I never said that.” She argues, her vision wavers with the tears she refuses to let fall in front of him.

“That’s why you worked with a terrorist organisation.” He takes another step, ignoring her distress.

“That’s not why, I had no choice.” She takes a step back, his face distorts and warps as he follows her.

The air around her drops, and her skin freezes when she looks back at Garrus. His features are now missing entirely, nothing more than a shadowed figure flickering in the fog.

“You always have a choice, maybe you just pick the bad option every time, Shepard.” His voice is followed by the familiar static, ringing loudly in her ears.

Shepard flinches, startled by the sudden, almost deafening noise. Her heel catches on something hard sticking out of the ground and she topples backwards. She throws her hands out to soften her fall, trying to prevent yet another sprain. Her eyes are shut tight as she tries to keep her tears from falling. 

When she finally sits up and reluctantly opens her eyes, the figure is gone. 

She remains on the floor, her limbs suddenly feeling heavier than an elcor as hot tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Her heart pounds against its skeletal case with a frantic beat and she has to bite down on her fist to muffle a sob. Fury and anguish dance inside of her, mixing and stealing away what resolve she had left. Her body begins to shiver, growing worse with each sob.

Something sharp pokes against her thigh. There's something solid and freezing protruding from the ground, but Shepard can’t find the strength to move from her position. She would have to move eventually, too many lives depend on her continued survival, but for now, she lets the shock wash over her; far too tired to fight against it. The fog sits heavily against her tears, sticking against the wet trails they’ve left down her cheeks.

A sudden tap in the distance breaks her out of her wallowing. She tilts her head to listen, the sound repeating in a soothing pattern. 

The taps grow louder, the rhythm becoming more recognisable as they grow closer. The sound of boots against stone. Heavy boots. 

She curls her hand into a fist, letting her biotics flow down to cover it in a shield, waiting for her to strike. She remains frozen on the ground, letting the fog wash over to cover her. She has never felt more like the predator and prey than she does in this moment.

She hears the familiar click of a thermal clip sliding into a rifle. It causes her to flinch and she whips around with a dizzying speed. She darts towards the figure, her glowing blue fist raised to strike. Her biotics drown them in a bright light and moments before she makes contact, she spots a very stunned turian staring back at her through the blue haze.

Shepard quickly pulls her fists back, letting the power die and taking the light with it.

“Spirits, Shepard. I didn’t realise that was you.” Garrus powers up his omni-tool, shining it in her direction to get a better look.

“No, get away from me,” she commands as more tears rush down her cheeks. They glitter in the orange glow of his omni-tool. “Not again, I don’t want to do this again.”

He falters for a moment, watching as she shrinks away. He watches as she hunches over, gripping her chest tightly as she struggles to breathe. Garrus ignores her order and reaches for her. He gently places his hand on her elbow, pulling her closer to him so he can press his forehead against hers.

“Shepard, sweetie… What happened?” His voice is a whisper and his fingers curl in her hair, grounding and soothing her with each stroke. She is tense, but the more she breathes in the familiar scent of metal and gun oil, she feels her traitorous body begin to relax.

“You’re not real.” Her voice cracks at the admission. 

“You are Commander Raven Shepard. The best damn CO I’ve had the pleasure to serve under, the most reckless one as well. You are also the kindest woman I’ve met and the love of my life. Shepard, I’m here, this isn’t a trick.” He moves to nuzzle her, wiping away the rest of her tears with his hand. She lets out a soft sigh when he moves to cup her cheek, gently stroking her cheekbone with his thumb.

“Then the stuff you said. You didn’t mean it?”

“The stuff it said was wrong.” He sighs and Shepard feels his hand shake against her skin. “If it was anything like what I had thrown at me, then yeah, it was wrong.”

That gets her attention and her head snaps up to look at him, her eyes shine more than sadness now. “What happened?”

Garrus rubs the back of his neck with the hand not clutching her, as if she might slip away again. “Oh, you know, the usual. I’m sure we will have a day-long mission debrief to go through all the wonderful experiences we’ve had.”

“But are you alright?” She questions, catching his hand and holding it tightly. She rubs small circles on the back of his hand.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Well, you know, the usual,” she echoes, giving him a small smile before rolling her shoulders and taking a deep breath. “So, James wasn’t actually James. Which still leaves us a squad member down.”

Garrus lets out a small hum as he surveys the new area they’ve reluctantly found themselves in. “So, something is trying to separate us? It would make sense, or maybe…”

He trails off, letting his words fizzle out when he nudges something with the tip of his boot. The loud clank of his heavy armour hitting its target confirms his thoughts.

Shepard watches as he squints, waving his omni-tool closer to the ground. “Shepard, this looks like a hatch. There’s something below us.”