#shit's getting heavy

[connorsoddsock]

Detroit: Ground Zero | Ch. 3 (Connor x fem!reader)

Summary: You’re an aspiring psych student, ready to take on the world when life takes an unexpected, bloody turn. Flesh eaters now roam the city of Detroit in search of their next meal, an aggressive new deviant group rears its head, and you are caught right in the middle of it. Great…

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity (as usual), descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of death

A/N: Heed the warnings for this chapter, please! This story is only going to get darker, so I may only post on AO3, with only chapter teasers for Tumblr in future... we'll see!

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Chapter Three: Gone

You woke up the next day disoriented and squinting as the early morning sunlight filtered in through the windows of the Detroit Police Department. At some point in the night, the battle to stay awake became too difficult, and you’d slipped off into dreamland with your head resting on Hank’s desk. But, of course, that didn’t explain how you’d ended up lying sideways on a row of chairs lining the wall with someone’s jacket slung over your form.

It was all coming back to you now – the café, the streets, the zombies.

You sat up with a groan and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were quick to spot Fowler pacing in his glass office, mumbling lowly into his phone. The man looked unbelievably tired, but he still acknowledged you with a slight nod when he saw you were awake before returning to the person on the other end of the line.

 Then, there was Gavin leaning back in a chair on the opposite side of the bullpen, eyes closed with his arms crossed and his legs resting across what you assumed was probably his desk. You noticed he no longer wore his leather jacket, but it wasn’t the one currently draped over you. You eventually spotted it, thrown carelessly atop a counter cabinet in the centre of the room, still very much covered in blood.

You couldn’t see Nines anywhere, but Hank now occupied the desk you were at last night, scrolling through something on his terminal while Connor sat beside him with his eyes closed and his blue LED flickering. His jacket was missing, leaving him in a crisp white button-down that did little to hide his lean frame. You gingerly lifted the one off your torso, eyes widening when you spotted the faint blue glow of the notorious armband and logo.

You shot up a little too abruptly, legs wobbling in protest. “Ah, shit…”

“Mornin’, kid,” Hank acknowledged, his blue eyes barely leaving the terminal. “How’d you sleep?”

Connor stirred beside him, brown eyes fluttering open. He regarded you with that same small smile from last night, the one you liked a little too much.

You rubbed the back of your neck, “Surprisingly well, aside from the fact that my neck hurts like a bitch.”

“Happens to the best of us,” the lieutenant chuckled. “Feel free to help yourself with some coffee or whatever in the break room. There’re doughnuts, too, if the others haven’t eaten ‘em.”

You nodded before looking back to Connor, who, to your surprise, was still watching you. You flushed and held his jacket out to him, quietly muttering your thanks as he accepted it. His fingers gently brushed over yours, and you flinched at the contact. He seemed to notice this, for his brow furrowed slightly in question.

“I did what I could with your jacket, but I suggest a dry clean for a more effective option.” He remarked, choosing not to comment on your jumpiness. “I hung it over the door for you.”

 “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to do that...”

“I think mine could use a wash, too, don’t you think, tin can?”

Your eyes rose to meet Gavin’s as he swung his legs down from his desk, fully awake now. The talking must have woken him.

You rolled your eyes, “What’s with that?”

“What’s with what?” He replied.

“The stupid little nickname,” you clarified. “Tin can? Really?”

“Why? You one of those android sympathisers or something?”

“I mean, it’s free not to be an asshole.”

An obnoxious laugh fell past his lips, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, doll?”

Connor piped up this time, “She wasn’t on a bed, Detective Reed.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, tin can-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, would ya?” Hank groaned, pulling back from his terminal with a frown directed at the three of you. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, “It’s way too early for this shit.”

A quick glance at your watch told you it was half-six.

Gavin’s lips curled into a shit-eating grin as his eyes fell on you again, sending you an infuriating wink. You rolled your eyes for the second time and marched off to the break room, where the other three officers were tucking into their doughnuts and coffee. They greeted you, offering you a box of sweet treats to browse through while they introduced themselves.

“I’m Officer Person,” the female officer said warmly. She gestured to the others, “These two are Officers Lewis and Wilson.”

They nodded at you, and you waved, “Hey.”

Person nudged your arm as she leaned over, a hand blocking the view of her mouth as she pretended to whisper. “I’d take the whole box if I were you. These two here are dubbed the department’s ‘doughnut kings’ – and trust me, it’s not a compliment.”

Lewis grinned sheepishly around a mouthful of food while Wilson scoffed, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll remember that the next time Fowler orders those custard-filled Krispy Kremes you like.”

You giggled into your hand as a round of bickering ensued and left them to it, so you could fumble around in the kitchen for a bit, deciding to make yourself some hot chocolate. You absently paid attention to the news segment playing on the wall-mounted TV. It was only quiet, but you didn’t need to hear to know what they were talking about. Disturbing videos of people recording the infected – this was the official term for them now – wandering around outside their homes; others were holed up in offices, fast food restaurants, and so on.

The screen transitioned to another news chopper hovering above a ritzy neighbourhood you’d travelled past many times. The well-known freelance reporter, Joss Douglas, was talking up a storm, eyes wide as he gestured to the building in the background. The cameras then zoomed into a black chopper in the distance – SWAT?

That can’t be good, you thought with apprehension.

The others were paying attention, too, now. More hovering and talking, and suddenly, there was a thunderous booming sound. The camera shook violently before the live feed cut out to a black screen, and it wasn’t long before you heard the real thing in the distance, startling you as the ground rumbled beneath your feet. Your cup slipped out of your hand, spilling hot chocolate everywhere.

The reaction was instant. Chairs in the bullpen rolled back as their owners stood, alarmed, and Captain Fowler stormed out of his office with a slam of the door against the railing. Lewis, Person and Wilson went to join him in the bullpen, and you froze, unsure of what to do. A series of hushed shouting ensued, mainly between Fowler and Hank, so you decided to stay in your temporary safe haven until they finished hashing it out.

That is until you saw Nines. The tall android was lingering in the hallway; his eyes narrowed and calculating as he watched the scene unfold before him. His stance was rigid, his arms practically pinned to his side.

Was he there the whole time?

You wondered what was going through his mind. Was he worried? Anxious? Was he itching to get out in the field and regain some semblance of control? He looked like that kind of person. Someone that liked to be in control – liked order. Of course, you knew next to nothing about deviated androids and their personalities, so you were going purely off his appearance here.

Icy eyes suddenly met yours, and you faltered, quickly moving to clean up the mess you’d made. You could feel the burn of his eyes lingering on the back of your neck as you knelt down, preying he couldn’t tell how fast your heart was racing. What was it about him that… unsettled you?

Someone called your name, “Are you all right?”

It was Connor. He was crouching beside you with a trash can for the soiled paper towels. You subtly peeked around him, somewhat relieved to find Nines had disappeared again.

“Y-yeah, just startled, that’s all. What’s going on?”

“The government has issued an official warning to evacuate central Detroit. The military has set up a quarantine zone for survivors on the city’s outskirts.”

“Shit,” your shoulders slumped at the news.

You still haven’t heard anything from your parents yet. Should you try calling again? Should you bite the bullet and head over to the hospital?

Connor was quick to notice your hesitance. “I highly recommend going to the quarantine zone,” he insisted. “It’s the safest option for you.”

“What about you?” You asked after some thought. “Where will you go?”

Your question seemed to throw him off guard, his brown eyes flitting up to yours. There was something unreadable in his expression.

“I go where Hank goes.”

Your lips twitched into a smile at his response. Their father-son dynamic was really quite adorable. Your neck craned back slightly to maintain eye contact with him as he straightened up beside you, the last of the mess finally cleaned up.

“You reckon he’ll mind if I tag along?”

He returned your smile then. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

The two of you joined the others back out in the bullpen after Connor kindly offered to rewrap your wounded palms and make you another hot chocolate. You’d stood at the bar tables yet again as he moved around the break room with surprising fluidity, blatantly checking him out every time his back was turned. It was difficult not to when there was nothing else to focus on.

Someone else had joined the ranks, you noticed – or re-joined the ranks, that is. Chris – the officer who’d stayed behind at the café – had returned, standing beside Gavin with folded arms. He looked a little worse for wear (no different to Fowler) as he nodded along to whatever his co-worker was saying to him. You didn’t know him, but you were glad he was safe. You could only wonder what happened to the others at the café and made a mental note to ask him later.

You tuned into Fowler’s words.

“Since shit’s hit the fan, I want all of you to take what you need. Head office has bigger things to worry about than some missing equipment. If things continue the way they are, then I doubt it’ll matter anyway...” He drifted off.

“Appreciate it, Sir,” Officer Wilson said gratefully. He clapped his superior on the shoulder, “I’m sure we’ll catch up at the QZ anyway, right?”

“I’m heading straight there!” Officer Person chimed in, “I haven’t got any family to worry about here.”

You wished you could say the same. You could only hope yours had gotten the message and were on their way already.

 “Alright, folks,” Fowler continued, looking disgruntled. “Do what you need to do, and for God’s sake, stay safe out there.”

Everyone was quick to disperse after that, quietly muttering to each other as they prepared to leave. You sat quietly at Hank’s desk once again after retrieving your jacket from the restroom door. The dark blood stains were noticeable, but it would have to do for now. Depending on what way Hank was heading, perhaps you could ask to stop at your apartment building if it wasn’t overrun. You could change into better clothing, and you couldn’t leave your cats to suffer.

Hank eventually joined you with a DPD-issued duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He inclined his head towards you, “Connor says you want to come with us?”

“If you don’t mind, of course.”

He chuckled, “Heh, if you don’t mind being squished in the backseat with him, then knock yourself out!”

“He’s not sitting shotgun?” You asked, finding it odd.

“He usually does, but Nines is coming, too. He’s bigger than Connor, so I figured I’d stick him up the front. Save you from being flattened and all.”

You pursed your lips. If Hank and Connor liked him enough to let him tag along, then surely, he was alright. On the other hand, perhaps you’d judged him too quickly. He could be the sweetest guy out there for all you knew.

It wasn’t long before the two androids joined you and Hank, Nines also shouldering a large duffle bag. You followed them as they led the way to the car. It was unnervingly quiet in the station’s garage, your footsteps echoing along with theirs. Your eyes widened when Hank unlocked his car. Finally, it dawned on you why he was so amused about you being squished in the back.

He pulled his seat forward so you could climb in. Once Connor hopped in beside you, there really wasn’t much room left. He apologised not once but twice as his knee knocked into yours while he tried to adjust himself into a comfortable position. Since he was tall, he had to keep his legs apart lest they dig into the back of the driver’s seat.

You buckled up as the car started, Nines now situated in front of you. You nearly shat yourself when the speakers blared heavy metal music. Hank swore and shut it off completely.

“Fuck, I really hope none of those things are around,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I scanned the garage upon entering,” Nines declared, surprising you with his deep voice. “We are the only ones here, save for Detective Reed.”

Despite what he’d said, you couldn’t stop your eyes from searching out the window. Thankfully, you only saw Gavin hopping into the driver’s seat of a black Jeep in the distance. He was shaking his head, most likely in response to the obnoxious show he’d just witnessed from Hank.

“What way are we headed?” You asked as the lieutenant backed out.

“Why’s that?”

You hesitated. “If it’s on the way, I wanted to stop by to grab a few things and let my cats free.”

Connor asked for your address, and you told him. He addressed Hank after a few flickers of his LED. “It’s not too far from yours, Hank.”

The lieutenant looked at you in the rear-view mirror then. “We’ll check it out, then.”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, tensing as the car pulled out into the street. Your eyes immediately landed on some infected wandering around out the front of the station. Those demonic screams you’d heard last night returned as they spotted the car and began sprinting towards it. Hank put his foot down and sped off, giving them no time to catch up.

Turning in your seat, you watched them as they did the same thing to Gavin’s black Jeep as it pulled out of the garage. You winced as he ran one of them over. Whether it was unintentional or not, you were unsure. Though, if you had to guess, it was most likely the latter.

Wonder where he’s heading…

Unsurprisingly, a few other cars were zipping around without a care in the world for the stop signs and lights they were flying through. Momentum had you sliding and bumping into Connor several times as Hank swerved to avoid them, cursing and flipping the bird in the hopes they’d see it. Unfortunately, they most likely wouldn’t.

“Would you like me to drive, Lieutenant?” Nines asked finally after another swerve.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a touch of cheek in his tone.

You caught Hank rolling his eyes in the mirror, “I’ve got it, smartass.”

You held in a giggle. So, Nines was being cheeky, then.

Ten minutes later, the car was parallel parked between some dumpsters in a quiet back street that led to your apartment complex. You fished around in your pocket for your access card and unbuckled your seat belt to get out while Hank went on about ‘being sitting ducks out here’ and that ‘you had ten minutes, tops’.

You were surprised when Connor followed behind you as Nines let you out but thankful to have the company. The two androids shared a silent look, their LEDs flickering before Nines left you to it. A flash of irritation slipped across Connor’s face, but it was gone before you could get a good look.

You frowned. What was that about?

Shaking your head, you took the lead and led Connor up to the fifth floor where your apartment was. The hallways were insanely quiet. No muffled noises of TVs from behind closed doors, no shouting from that noisy neighbour a few doors down, no kids causing a racket at nine in the morning – it was nerve-wracking but expected.

A look of horror crossed your face when you noticed the door to your home was already open, a few food wrappers and clothes articles scattered across the floor leading out. It was hard to miss the splatters of blood along with it, though you couldn’t tell if it was leading in or out.

Connor immediately took the lead, gently beckoning you behind him, even as his face hardened into a dark expression. His posture was rigid as if waiting for an attack, and you just knew he was scanning the apartment when the two of you cautiously entered. He seemed to be weighing up his options as he paused in the middle of your trashed living room, his left hand reaching for something inside his jacket and then stopping as if he’d changed his mind at the last second.

Your eyes worriedly searched for any signs of your cats, but there were none. Even their food and water bowls were missing, which was alarming. Had someone taken them? Were they somewhere in the building?

You experimentally tiptoed away from Connor to try and catch a glimpse inside your kitchen, but he glared at you (a first – and hopefully the last because, damn, that sent shivers down your spine), and you halted at his silent command. There was no way he was about to let you wander off on your own, even if you knew this place like the back of your hand.

He proceeded further into your apartment, entering a small hall that housed the main bedroom, your parent’s guest suite and the bathroom. Blood scraped along the walls this time, and it was clear they led to your room. The door was ajar, and you noticed with a sinking feeling in your stomach a few clumps of grey fur on the carpet.

You froze on the spot, your breaths coming out shakier when your ears finally picked up the sounds of crunching and squelching from inside – the tell-tale signs that the infected were nearby.

Connor pushed onward, crouching slightly as he nudged the door open fully. Crouched over your beloved pets was a lone infected woman, hands bloodied as she shovelled innards in her mouth. You couldn’t hold in the gasp that escaped your mouth at the gory sight, tears welling in your eyes.

Big mistake.

Her attention snapped up to you, and there was a split second before she completely bypassed Connor and hurled herself toward you. That awful, high-pitched shriek sounded so much louder inside your small hallway, leaving your ears ringing. The air left your lungs as you were tackled to the floor, very nearly knocking your head for the second time in two days.

Connor was quick to tear her away from you, hurling her back into the bedroom with a strength humans would struggle to match. His larger frame proceeded to block the doorway, preventing the frenzied monster from reaching you as she continued to howl.

“H-holy shit!” You uttered out of pure shock.

She was completely ignoring the android in front of her, her arms reaching around him in a failed attempt to take a swipe at you.

“She doesn’t see me!” Connor quickly confirmed your thoughts, grunting as he shoved her back again and shut the door behind him, leaving you to deal with the revelation alone.

Of course, she wouldn’t. Unlike you, he wasn’t made of flesh, warm blood and bone. He was made of hard plastic, long wires, and blue blood. He wasn’t the tasty meal here. You were - the human. It was easy to forget that when Connor was so human himself.

A muffled gunshot sounded from inside the room, and you jumped, taking a cautious step toward it. “C-Connor?” You called out, voice unbelievably shaky.

The door swung open again, and Connor surged forward, wrapping his long arms around you. You heard the door click shut but couldn’t find it in you to care as hot tears finally began to roll down your cheeks. A hand gently ran through your hair while the other maintained a firm grip on your back.

After what felt like hours, he pulled back and assessed your form. You shook your head to tell him you were fine, the words unable to audibly leave your mouth. He finally straightened up, eyes and LED flickering momentarily like they had when he’d communicated silently with Nines. Were they talking again?

“Is there anything you want from your room?” He asked, deep brown eyes searching your face. He still didn’t seem convinced you were okay. “It’s better if I get it for you.”

“Just s-some clothes… if you could. T-there’s uh…” you swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself. “There’s a backpack near the bed. Just stuff whatever you think I'll need in there."

He moved to enter the room again, but you quickly grabbed his hand, shocking the both of you. His gaze landed on you again, inquisitive this time. “And please, if their collars are in there, could you…?” You trailed off, but he seemed to understand.

Tears continued to fall even after he’d retrieved your belongings, even after he led you back outside and helped you into the car, ignoring Nines probing stare and Hank’s questions of ‘what the fuck happened’ and ‘why’d you take so long.’ They only stopped when you fell into a restless nap, head resting atop Connor’s shoulder.

You would worry about their questions later.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Average Drama Enjoyer observes some peak drama.

[trans-leek-cookie]

yknow what. I wanna say: CSA and COCSA survivors are all incredible, but I also wanna give a shout out to ppl who were exposed to sexual stuff or had any kind of sexual experience as a kid that they either aren't comfortable labelling as or don't consider abuse, but they know it still fucking sucked and shouldnt have happened. Even if that changes later in life and you identify as a victim/surivor, it can be messy to have to imagine those labels applying to the ppl in ur life and that can take time.

The most important thing is to prioritize your recovery + health, and to support other victims + survivors.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt in Memes 6

Let's make it some in-world memes this time :)

[pearlsdiamondsandvodka]

the sandra lynn / fig conversation is driving me Insane. fig saying that sometimes she doesn’t wanna exist as herself at all…not wanting to ask her friends how they see her (because she’s afraid to hear their response) saying that to someone she is a monster and she Cannot stop thinking about it. sandra lynn starting the conversation saying she needs to step up but is also simultaneously taken aback about what fig expresses and doesn’t know how to responds to it and suggests getting ice cream. sandra lynn saying “convincing people they deserve good things is really tough” talking about herself but how it also reflects fig. insane!!

[bet-on-me-13]

Lady Gotham raises Danny as a single mother

Danny gets de-aged and Clockwork sends him to live with his Daughter, Lady Gotham.

You would expect Lady Gotham to look very Gothic. Like a noble lady from the 1600′s or a ghostly woman in a large veil. Maybe even just a mass of writhing shadows?

But no, Lady Gotham looks like your stereotypical Single Mother at all times, cause she always has to keep her Bat-Kids safe like the rambunctious children they are, and it’s a 24/7 job

She basically has the house-mom look, frizzy hair tied up in a ponytail, a stained apron from making dinner, always looks tired but always has time to indulge her kids games, all that

After she takes in Danny, she decides to create herself a Civilain Identity so she can raise him as both a Human and as a Ghost. And raising the future High King has it's side effects, for example he is constantly producing excess Ectoplasm which empowers her enough to maintain a Corporeal form for much longer than she could before.

Now she can just live in her City, and actually Interact with her citizens like she never could before!

She starts helping out more, dispelling some of the more Nasty curses placed on her City and making people feel more safe than before.

She gives packed lunches to homeless kids, every day without fail, and they are always filled with that kids favorite snacks alongskde some healthy foods. None of her children are going to go hungry on her watch!

She donates to the local homeless shelters, and gives them some Good Luck charms so they experience less problems. She needs to teach her kids good morals after all!

She starts a Rooftop Garden on her apartment Building, handing out the produce to anybody who asks to borrow some. Somehow she never runs out no matter how much they ask for. It's good manners to treat your neighbors with respect! A cup of sugar and all that!

She embodies the "Neighboorhood Mom" stereotype perfectly, just across the entire city instead.

And the Batfam don't even notice for a few months! She isn't doing anything big, just being a good Samaritan, and a good mom.

Then, one day, Red Hood shows up and tells everybody that he was kidnapped by a Lady who kept saying stuff like "We need to get that dirty ecto sorted out, we are long overdue for a check up!"

And now he feels perfectly fine. No more green vision, no more violent tendencies, he's just not as angry about that anymore.

Now the Batfam are trying to find thus lady, but it's kind of hard since all Jason could give for a description is "She looked like a Stereotypical Single Mom. That's all I can remember about her appearance."

[scourge-sympathiser]

SCOURGE SUNDAY 010/???

classic

[artsekey]

Reminder to get your COVID booster when they're available. I kept putting off my next dose because of my schedule, and I've been out with COVID for eight days now.

Posting the symptoms I had to inform others as COVID is constantly evolving:

Day 1 (3 or 4 days after exposure): started as a feeling of "imminent sickness" in the back of my throat. I otherwise felt 100%.

Day 2: Extremely tired. Congestion. Limited all contact.

Day 3: 101 Fever. Congestion. Extremely tired. Couldn't make it through lecturing my class (remotely). Began medicating with Theraflu (acetaminophen). Tested positive for COVID with the fastest and clearest positive test I've ever seen.

Day 4: Fever between 99 and 101.5. Cancelled all activity. Spent all day in bed. Extreme congestion. Extreme aches & chills at night. This day was absolutely miserable. My friend brought me soup. I cried about it. Continued with Theraflu. Considered going to the ER due to severity of symptoms.

Day 5: Intermittent low-grade fever at 99.8. Congestion continued, coughing and sneezing began.

Day 6: Fever cleared. Coughing & sneezing intensified. Tested again as per CDC recommendations: still a strong positive. Began taking Robitussin (cough syrup only, no acetaminophen).

Day 7: Coughing worsened significantly. Lots of liquids, lots of Robitussin.

Day 8: Today! No fever, no cough, some slight congestion remains. Once again tested positive for COVID-- with a weaker positive this time! I expect I'll be back to normal by day 10, but... trust me, if you're going to get your "booster" through a needle or ten days of this, choose the booster! As a reminder, you can order up to 4 free COVID tests at the end of September through HHS.gov!

[davidisnotmyname]

stupid tf2 thought that I had

literally WHY does there seem to be such a shortage of art with soldier and heavy interacting. No, I don’t mean ship art necessarily, just literally any art of their dynamic. It’s literally a comedy goldmine but everyone chooses to ignore it.

like, consider this. Your coworker who thinks all Russians are communists and thinks you are American (when you very much so are not) shows up near your isolated home in Siberia with several of your other teammates after you not seeing any of them for six months, and he’s buttass naked, covered in honey, and having his shit wrecked by a bunch of bears. You save him and bring him back to your home, and five minutes later he bags your sister and they’re engaged a day later. Also he’s off the walls cuckoo and probably lead-poisoned.

FOR FUCKS SAKE CHAT, THEY ARE BROTHERS IN LAW. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING FUNNY THAT CAN BE?! ENOUGH WITH THE COMMUNISM JOKES, THERES THIS WHOLE FACET OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP THAT NOBODY EVERY ACKNOWLEDGES REALLY

[fanofthelamb]

Ever since Narinder hurt himself trying to pull her cart for her, Forneus makes him ride on it whenever they travel anywhere together.

[neonredhex]

No need to tell him, he knows exactly where his hands are

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Oh Skinzun, we're really in it now...

[idkhowtoname]

FELLAS. IT'S TIME.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Fanfic isn’t enough, I need to fuck him

[pearlcaddy]

pearlcaddy's 2023 follower celebration ♡ favorite lockyle scene

lockwood & co. tyburn gallows scene ↳ for @sanssssastark

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."