#shoes are an illusion and so is death

[piichivii]

dew & cloudburst // sương, the destined

[rozugold]

When your love is the killing kind

(close ups belowww)

[vivwritesfics]

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Zac Brown ruled the McLaren empire. His daughter was constantly getting into trouble, getting herself kidnapped and whatnot. But she was pretty good at getting into those situations. Oscar was hired so that she wouldn't get into said situations. She thought he would be easy to break. But there was a reason Zac hired Oscar. He was the best of the best and he wasn't going to fall for her shit.

6.5K

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, mafia fic themes, smutty themes and talks of sex (but no actual smut) guns and death (nobody important)

Another dingy warehouse. Another splintering wooden chair. And another ugly man giving her father demands over the phone.

Demands that wouldn't be met. The fact that he was even trying was laughable. Demands hadn't been met since she was fifteen years old. Her father would rather receive her head in a box than meet the demands that would have saved her life.

She tested the rope tying her wrists behind her back. it was a good, sturdy knot; she'd be the first to admit that it was a well tied knot. Grabbing the end of the rope, she tugged. It didn't budge.

She didn't panic. If she was to panic, it would have made things so much worse. Oh, her dad was gonna be so mad when she got home.

Her captor ended the call and let out a breathy, terrifying laugh. He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned on his heel to face her. "Sounds like daddy isn't going to come and save his little princess."

She simply raised her eyebrows at him. Clearly, he hadn't heard of her reputation. That was fine. She wasn't salty about it.

"Should we send him one of your ears? Show him just how serious we are?"

The rope gave slightly, allowing her to slip her hand out. She didn't, not yet, not while he was watching her. "Who is we?" She asked, pretending to look around the warehouse. She knew exactly how many people were watching her.

Barking out a laugh, she slipped one hand out of her bindings and grabbed the rope before it could fall, maintaining the illusion that she was still tied up. She stopped her eyes from moving to the men standing in the shadows. If they had weapons, she couldn't see them.

"Fuck it," she said and unravelled the rope in her hands, keeping it hidden behind her. "Let's do it, let's cute off my ear. Maybe then you'll get your money."

The grin that came across her face was sickening, but she steadied her nerves. He kept staring at her as he reached behind him. "Someone give me a knife," he said.

There was a moment before either of the men in the shadows moved. But then they strode closer and placed a knife into the bosses hands. He whispered something to him, and she didn't need to hear it to know what it was.

"I got it," the boss said, shrugging him off. He retreated to the shadows as the boss approached her knife balanced between his fingers. "Do you think you'll still be pretty without one of your ears?" He asked, his grin showing off his too white teeth. So white and perfect that they couldn't have been real.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably," she answered.

A hand hit her cheek. Her nostrils flared as she stared at him, head tipped to the side and cheek stinging.

He leaned down, knife held out. Before the sharp metal could make contact with her skin, she grabbed the rope in both hands and kicked him away. He stumbled back in surprise and dropped the knife as she stood up.

The second she was on her feet, she wrapped the rope around his neck and pulled him towards her. The knife was beneath her high heeled shoe, keeping it away from the men that rushed towards them.

"I wouldn't," she said, tightening the rope around the bosses neck. "I really fucking wouldn't. Holding both ends of the rope in one hand, she pulled him around just enough for her to pick up the knife. "This your only weapon?" she asked as she looked at it.

The other men looked at each other and raised their fists. She couldn't stop her loud, mocking laughter. "You guys are fucking stupid," she said and stabbed the boss in the thigh.

He fell to the floor with a cry. "Here's how this is gonna work," she began, "I'm gonna walk out of here and you guys are gonna get him medical attention." She reached down and stabbed his other thigh. "And if any of you want to stop me, I can always give you guys the same treatment."

Silently, they stepped to the side and allowed her through. She kept a hold of the knife and held her head up high as she walked out of the warehouse.

***

Daniel Ricciardo was so dead. His whole job was to take care of her, and she had disappeared.

He'd turned her room upside down, looking for her. When she got back from whenever she was, she was going to kill him for the state he'd left her closet in.

At least her dad didn't know.

Holding his phone up to his ear, he tried calling her. Again. And again, she didn't pick up. At what point did he start panicking? At what point did he stop searching and inform her father that she was missing?

Daniel didn't have to think about it for too long. His heart leapt into his throat when there came a knock at her door. "Darling?" Came the voice of her father, Daniel's boss. "Can I come in?"

Panic held him in a vice as he climbed over her things, scattered all over the floor, and pulled open the door.

"Sir," Daniel said, holding the door just open enough to show his face. "How can I help you?"

Zac frowned at him. "Tell me honestly, is she in there?"

Daniel's answer was to swallow.

Zac pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're fired, Daniel," he said and strode away, phone pressed against his ear.

She strode into the house just a few minutes later. Feet bare and dirty, high heels dangling from her finger by the straps. Her wrists were rubbed raw and there were splattering of blood on her skin.

"Shit, kid," said Daniel as he pulled her in. "I was so damn worried about you."

She kissed his cheek and then reached up to wipe away the lipstick left behind. "Sorry, Danny," she said with an amused smile. "I got bored."

She grabbed his hand to pull him along. After her evening she just wanted to sit Daniel on her bed and ride his cock until she forgot above everything.

There was a distinctive click, a revolver being cocked. "You're fired, Daniel," came the voice of her father. "Get the fuck out of my house."

She pulled her hand out of Daniel's and looked at him. "You got fired?" She asked, heels swinging as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"He did, Princess," Zac answered, his gun still pointed at Daniel. "His one job was to protect you, and he failed," he finished, pulling his daughter behind him. "He needs to leave before I blow his brains out."

She rolled her eyes. Her dad was so damn dramatic sometimes. There was no way Daniel, or anybody else, would have been able to stop her from sneaking out when she wanted to.

Daniel looked at her, desperation in his eyes. But she was too busy picking at the blood beneath her nails. So, he turned his attention to her father. "Zac, please," he tried, stepping forward. "I just want to protect her."

Zac pulled the trigger and the bullet lodged itself in the wall beside Daniel's head. Daniel knew just how good a shot Zac was, knew he was missing on purpose. He adjusted his aim slightly. "Five." Daniel's eyes went wide. He turned on his heel and began rushing through the house. Zac followed, but he stayed at a walk and kept his aim trained on Daniel. "Four."

She'd had so many bodyguards in the last few years. When she was a little girl she'd had Lewis watching over her. And then she had Jensen for a good few years, and then Fernando. When Fernando left to work under a different boss, to work for the enemy (as her father said), Carlos watched over her.

She'd liked Carlos, had pulled him into her bed. He'd kissed her sweetly and taken her virginity, the two of them hidden beneath the sheets of her big bed.

It had gone on for a year before her father found out. Carlos had been her first everything. The first man to kiss her, the first man to see her in a state of undress, the first man bring her any sort of pleasure. She had really, truly loved him. She had wanted to run away with him.

But when her father was found out, Carlos was sent away. He was sent to work for someone else, someone that they had something of a partnership with. She had loved Carlos, and her father had loved him, too. He'd loved him with a son, and that was why he couldn't kill him. If it had been anybody else caught in his daughters bed, he wouldn't have hesitated.

As her father followed Daniel out of the house, she turned on her heel and marched towards her bedroom, humming to herself. All she needed now was to scrub the other man's blood from her skin and find something to soothe her wrists.

"What the fuck!" She cried as she pushed open her bedroom door.

Her room was a state. Her drawers had been emptied, things pushed from their shelves. Her wardrobe had been emptied, the clothes either crumpled on the floor or thrown over her unmade bed. It was like a hurricane had torn through the room.

If her dad didn't kill Daniel, she certainly would.

She ignored everything but the wardrobe. The rest of it could be dealt with tomorrow, but her poor wardrobe. That was her space, her creative space, and Daniel had defiled it. How dare he.

As soon as her wardrobe was back in order, she walked into her en suite and turned on the shower. A yawn left her lips as she stripped out of her dress and climbed under the steaming water.

The rest of her night was a blur. She yawned again as she washed her body. Ready to sleep, she climbed out of the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. She fell into bed, crawled beneath her blankets, and immediately found herself asleep.

While she was sleeping, Zac was hard at work. He had people to do these things for him, sure, but he did it himself when it came to his daughter.

There must have been somebody that could look after his daughter. Someone experienced, like Fernando, or Lewis. Or Carlos.

He called Andrea, his right hand man, into his office. It had been Andrea's idea to look into their juniors, to see if any of them would be good enough to protect his daughter. That was how they got Lando, their best man

None of their juniors were. So, they looked a little further afield, at rookies working for other... empires.

Oscar Piastri. He had incredible statistics, stats that Zac and Andrea shouldn't have had access to. But they did, and they wanted him.

Andrea was privy to certain information about the different empires. He kept the secrets about his own empire, the McLaren empire, well guarded, but knew all the dirty secrets about the Ferrari empire, about the Williams empire, and, most importantly, about the Alpine empire.

He knew how staff were treated, knew what was expected of the juniors. That was why Oscar Piastri had such good statistics, because of how hard Bruno pushed him. Andrea and Zac both knew that Bruno was a piece of work. They knew how easy it was going to be to get Oscar away from him.

They sent him one message, holding nothing more than a job offer, and waited with baited breaths. Nobody else got to see this side of the boss, holding his hands together as if he was praying as they waited for Oscar to reply.

Three grey dots appeared on the screen. Oscar's reply appeared, only holding five words. The reply wasn't surprising: What's in it for me? Clearly, Oscar was a smart kid, Zac and Andrea could tell.

They laid it out for him, the benefits this job would come with. He'd be working for a bigger, more powerful empire, he would get paid more than he would working for Alpine, and there was more they could provide him with. Food and lodgings, anything he could have needed.

Interviews in this line of work wasn't an easy thing to arrange. But, as a junior, Oscar operated with a curfew. The interview was arranged for after the curfew. It was awkwardly done, a video call while Oscar hid himself in the junior barracks bathroom.

They outlined the job as much as they could with Oscar being part of the McLaren empire. Zac gave no information on his daughter as he tried to outline the requirements of the job. He made it clear that it wasn't going to be easy, and Oscar made it clear that he wanted the job.

All he had to do to accept the position was to show up at the house. Well, show up at the location provided that Zac and Andrea had given to him. The little café in the heart of town. A sweet little place, not the sort of place he would have expected to meet them.

They set Lando Norris, the best of their men, to pick him up. Lando took his favourite car, his baby. It was fast and sleek and far too expensive. It was an intimidation tactic, and it was working.

He pulled up, sunglasses covering his eyes as he climbed out of the car. The way he looked around was lazy. He pulled out his phone when he couldn't immediately find Oscar. Oscar couldn't tell what he was doing from where he was sitting. But he pulled his sunglasses down his face and looked around again.

Straightening up his tie, Oscar slipped out of his seat. He abandoned his coffee and strode over to the car. He had no doubt who this person was. His number plate was LAN, for goodness sake.

Lando stared at him as he approached. "Good weather we're having," he said, shoving his hands into his pocket.

"I think it might cloud over soon," Oscar answered.

Neither of them were looking up at the sky.

Lando checked him for weapons and listening devices as discretely as he could. When he determined that Oscar was clean, he gestured for him to get into the passenger seat of the car.

Oscar climbed in. He looked at Lando, staying quiet as he looked away. Lando was the best of the best, rivalled only by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc. Being in the car with him was surreal.

The drive was silent. Lando fiddled with the radio until it played something softly. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove through Woking.

He pulled up to the house and parked his car up alongside more expensive cars. His car, which had once been the most impressive vehicle Oscar had ever seen, looked like crap compared to these.

"Good luck with the Princess," said Lando as he climbed out of the car.

Oscar swallowed and followed his lead. He climbed out of the car and walked up to the house. When he raised his fist to knock, he looked over his shoulder at Lando.

"Just go in," said Lando as he stroked the hood of his car.

Steadying his nerves, Oscar walked in.

***

This day was bullshit.

Her father kept her in his office for the day. As hard as she tried to leave, one look and he pulled her back, sitting herself in that little seat just behind his desk.

She could only file her nail for so long before she was completely and utterly bored. Standing up, she stretched her arms above her head. "I'm gonna-"

"Not until your new bodyguard starts," her father said, not even bothering to turn around.

She groaned and threw herself back onto her seat, hands dramatically covering her eyes. "Dad, I'm literally dying of boredom out here," she mumbled and groaned again, this time louder. "When is he starting?"

"Soon," Zac promised as he straightened out a stack of paper. "Andrea is just putting him through orientation."

She groaned again, for the third time in the space of a minute. "Quit bein' so dramatic," her dad said, shaking his head. "We wouldn't be having to do this if you didn't sneak out the other day."

Her gaze settled into a glare. If her new guard didn't show up soon, she was gonna steal her dad's gun and just leave. But her dad seemed to know what she was thinking. He pulled his gun from his belt and shoved it into his desk drawer.

Two minutes later, there was a knock at the door. "Touch my gun and you're dead," he said as he stood up. Still wearing that glare, she threw her nail file at him. It didn't go very far, fell to the floor just in front of her seat.

Her father opened the door. "Oscar Piastri?" He asked, holding his hand out. From her seat, she couldn't see as her dad shook the young man's hand and welcomed him into the office.

He was pretty, she could tell that immediately. He was pretty, but he looked easy. Easy to manipulate, and that was the most important thing. "Oscar," her father said, leading him across the room, over to her. "This is my daughter."

She stood from her seat and folded her arms over her chest. "You're my new bodyguard?" She asked, clearly unimpressed.

"I am," he said and held his hands out towards her. "I'm Oscar."

For a moment, she just stared at his hand. Oscar kept it held out, waiting for her to shake it. "Oh, boy," he heard from his right as her father sat back in his seat.

Keeping her arms folded over her chest, she marched past him, her shoulder hitting his. Oscar allowed himself to be pushed out of the way. With her father there, he wasn't going to dare to do anything but go with what she wanted. As she strode out of the office, her hips swaying, Oscar followed.

He kept his eyes on the back of her head. Don't look down. Don't look at the way she's moving her hips. Don't look down.

She knew what had happened, why she needed a new bodyguard. Even with everything Andrea had told him, Oscar didn't think she could be that bad. He was very, very quickly proven wrong.

"Where are we going?" Oscar asked as she pushed her way into her bedroom. Maids had cleaned up since Daniel had torn it apart in an attempt to look for her. Her pyjamas were on a heap in the floor, one she stepped over to get to her black purse.

"Out," she said, the first word she'd spoken to him, as she placed the bag on her shoulder and strode past him.

Oscar followed, keeping close to him. Too close, and he had five seconds to fix it. But he didn't fix it. He stayed walking far too close to her, so close she could feel him breathing down her neck.

"Fucking hell, stop," she said and Oscar stopped. She turned on her heel, turned towards him, and held out her arms. At first, it was just to see how close he was. When her arms hit him, she pushed so that he stumbled back.

He steadied himself and stepped towards her again. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest and glaring.

"I've been hired to protect you," said Oscar, keeping himself calm.

Her glare was nasty, vicious. "You need to stay three paces behind me, okay?" She stepped closer to him. "I'm gonna get on and do whatever the fuck I want to do, and you're gonna let me, okay?" They were stood chest to chest. Her fingers touched his chest, danced up towards his neck while she let a coy smile grace her features.

He held his breath until her nail dug into his throat. Oscar reached up and grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling it away from his neck. "I've been hired to protect you," he said again. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

The smile dropped from her face, replaced with a glare. She turned back around and marched away, steps quick to get away from him. Oscar stayed just a pace behind her.

Oscar hadn't been ill prepared for this job. Andrea had given him plenty of warning of just how much trouble she was going to be. But he was prepared.

She didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. That was fine, Oscar was happy to follow her around and watch her antics. He followed her to a café, where she met with friends, followed her out to the park and listened to their chatter and gossip. He didn't take in much of the information, not unless he thought it was important.

Not until they started whispering about him.

His cheeks blushed red, but he stayed standing there. If he wasn't watching her, he was looking around, looking for any sign of danger. She whispered to her friends, giggling behind their hands. What they were saying, Oscar didn't care.

She still hadn't spoken to him as he drove her back to the house. Her car was a dream to drive. She handled beautifully, better than anything Oscar had driven when he was with Alpine. He couldn't hide his grin as he drove towards the house.

As soon as the car had stopped, she climbed out and marched towards the house. Oscar parked as quickly as he could and climbed out of the car, following her up the stairs and into the house.

She disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door in his face. Oscar let out a breath and raised his fist, knocking on the door. "Hey," he called and tried the handle. "Let me in!"

Nothing. Of course it didn't work. It shouldn't have been surprising. Oscar didn't panic. He did what he was best at and stayed calm. Shrugging off his jacket, he left it by the door and walked out of the house.

It was a gamble, whether her window was open or not. He walked around the back of the house, counting the windows until he found hers.

Oscar wasn't built to climb. He wasn't good at it, but he still tried, using the window ledge beneath to climb up to her own. His knuckles it the glass before he tried to push the window up, but it wouldn't budge.

Fuck.

He knocked away and watched as she turned around. Her eyes went wide but she didn't move, took a moment to watch him. Oscar tried again to open the window.

Finally, she walked over. She pushed open the window, allowing Oscar into her bedroom. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked, heading towards her wardrobe as Oscar grabbed his jacket from outside of her room.

She couldn't deny that he looked good. With his jacket hanging over his arm, she could really see him, and she appreciated it. He was no Carlos, but he'd do.

Grabbing a dress from her wardrobe, she held it up to her body. "Did you ever think that maybe I shut you out of my room because I didn't want you in here?" She asked as she hung it over her wardrobe door and went digging for some shoes.

"Did you ever think that I can't trust you enough to leave you in here on your own?" He responded as he leaned against the wall.

She scowled at him as she stepped back out of the wardrobe, a pair of high heels hanging by the straps from her fingers. "Fucking creep," she mumbled and pulled down the zip on her skirt.

She didn't look away from him as she pushed her skirt down. Oscar didn't look away. She was challenging him, he knew, and he wasn't going to let her win. Once her skirt was on the floor, she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall away from her shoulders.

She stepped towards him, much like she had in the corridor earlier. "Do you know something, Oscar?" She mused as she stepped closer to him. He kept watching her, eyes locked onto her own. "I always get what I want. Do you wanna know what I want right now?"

His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at her. Even when she settled her arms on his chest, moving them up to his shoulders, he remained stoic. "What?" He asked. His wife didn't betray just how nervous he was feeling, just how much he was sweating.

Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You."

Oscar took her arms from around his neck. He kept a hold of them as he walked her back, so that she was sitting on her bed. "You're a brat," he said and stepped back, leaving her there.

Their interactions through the evening were very limited. Any attention she wanted, Oscar wasn't going to give to her. That she caught onto very quickly.

Daniel had been the same when he first started. Of course, he'd never resorted to climbing through her window. Oscar was dedicated, and that made him a problem.

A problem that wouldn't let her sneak out, a problem that wouldn't sleep with her.

She was in agony.

The next day followed much in the same pattern. Oscar walking too close, Oscar watching everything she did. She couldn't escape his watchful eye. When she went to the bathroom he was standing outside, periodically nodding.

On her third day with Oscar guarding her, she was bored out of her mind. When she want to the bathroom, he followed to stand guard outside of the door. This was becoming her normal and she hated it.

There was a window in the bathroom. Small, too high for her to reach without assistance. For a moment she contemplated it. Contemplated how she was going to execute this admittedly stupid plan.

Beneath the sink was a little step stool. It was from when she was younger, when she was too small to reach her tooth brush in the cabinet above the sink. She pulled it out and positioned it beneath the little window.

It didn't give her much height, just enough to grasp the window ledge and hoist herself up.

There was a knock at the door. "Just a minute!" She called back, but it sounded weird. She hadn't been this... polite to him since that first night in her room.

She hurried herself up. Pushing open the window, she slipped out and dropped down onto the gravel below.

The stones bit into her skin. But she didn't care. Pushing herself up and wiping the stones away, she could hear Oscar pounding on the door. When she didn't reply, the knocks became something more. Louder, harsher, his entire body pushing against it.

She didn't stick around long enough to find out. Straightening up her skirt, she walked around from the house.

The cameras were following her, she knew. Security guards must have been watching her, must have been radioing Oscar of her whereabouts.

She didn't bother running. There was no point when the gates would have taken their time to swing open. No, she walked calmly, like she had all the time in the world.

Suddenly, her feet were no longer touching the floor. A grunt left his lips as he picked her up and turned her around. "I don't think so," he said and put her back down.

She stared up at him, arms folded over her chest. He could see the indents of the gravel against her arm, the grazes on her skin. But then she stepped around him.

Oscar picked her up again. He scooped her up and placed her over his shoulder, ignoring her shriek as he carried her back into the house.

"Fucking put me down!" She shouted, fists pounding against his back. "Oscar! Put me down! Now!"

His only response was to tighten his grip on her and march through the house. He didn't care as he took her past her fathers men, past Lando and Pato. When they sniggered at her, she held up her middle finger towards them.

Once he got to her bedroom, Oscar put her down. She glared up at him, arms folded over her chest. "I need to use the bathroom," she said.

Oscar grinned down at her. She looked somewhat embarrassed, unable to meet his eye. "Come on," he said and gestured for her to lead the way.

She walked down the hall, wearing a nasty scowl and looking at the floor. As soon as she got to the bathroom, she turned to shut the door, to try and lock him out. But Oscar shouldered his way in. "Hey!" She cried and tried to push him out of the bathroom. "What do you think you're doing?!"

He grabbed the step stool, folded it up and tucked it beneath his arms. He pulled the window shut and locked it, pocketing the key. "I'll be right outside," he said and placed a single pat to the top of her head. It was condescending as all hell and she wanted to kill him.

***

A year had passed. An uneventful year. For six months she'd attempted to sneak out. The first month of that was to get away from the house, to get out to the club and see her girl friends on the nights that Oscar said no.

But those other five months weren't because she wanted to get away. Whenever she snuck out, Oscar would be the one to carry her into the house. It was like he didn't trust her to walk back on her own. That was how she ended up over his shoulder or in his arms, being carried like a princess.

The kidnapping attempts had stopped, too. There had been a couple sicne Oscar started his job as her bodyguard. But he had thwarted all of them, kept her safe when somebody tried to climb in through her window.

On this day, Zac called Oscar into his office. He gave him a time and Oscar readied himself for it. He spend his morning with her, following her as she ate her breakfast.

She no longer tried to fight him at every turn. Oscar was grateful for it. He was able to see how pretty her smile was and that filled him with warmth. She was cute when she didn't want to kill him, he realised.

"Come on," he said once she'd finished her breakfast. He picked up her plate, dumped it in the sink, and offered her his hand.

"What do you think my dad wants?" She asked as she linked her fingers through his own.

Oscar pulled her out of the kitchen and through the house. He checked his watch. Just fifteen minutes until Zac wanted to see him. He swallowed. "I don't know," he answered and led her through the halls.

Maybe Zac wasn't happy with the work he was doing. Maybe he didn't think Oscar was doing a good enough job at protecting her. Maybe he didn't like that Oscar sometimes held her hand as they walked together.

He took her through the house and to the library. There Lando was sitting, tapping away at his phone. "Hey, Princess," he called as Oscar sat her down and squeezed her shoulders. "You sitting with me?"

"Looks like it," she mumbled and let out a yawn. She watched as Oscar disappeared out of the library, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door was shut, Lando leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of her face. "What's up?" He asked as she turned to face him. "What's got you thinking so hard?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her seat. "How long did it take for Carlos to fuck me?" She mumbled, resting her cheek against her first. "What, a couple months? Maybe less than that?" She mumbled.

Lando snorted. "It took him a month to fall in love with you," he mumbled, his foot knocking against her own. "And Daniel slept with you on his first night on the job," he answered, finally locking his phone screen and letting it fall into his lap.

"What's taking Oscar so long?"

He properly laughed when those words left her lips. "Oscar is too much of a professional to sleep with you," he said and mockingly wiped at his eyes. She scowled at him. "He's falling for you, though."

Her head snapped towards him. "Huh?"

He nodded. "Yeah, princess." The name was mocking and she flipped him off. "Look, he wouldn't be holding your hand and shit if he wasn't, okay? That boy is falling for you. You need to trust me; he told me himself."

She leaned forward. "Lando, I need you to tell me exactly what he said."

Lando went to reply, but the library doors opened and Oscar strode in. "What now, Sweetheart?" He asked and offered her his hand.

She allowed herself to be pulled out of her seat and grinned at Lando. Sweetheart? He mouthed, and she let her tongue stick out from between her teeth.

***

Another dingy warehouse. Another splintering wooden chair. And another ugly man giving her father demands over the phone.

It had been so damn long since she'd gotten kidnapped, she was almost at a loss for what to do. Almost, but not quite.

The minute she realised she was getting kidnapped, she took a bobby pin from her hair and tucked it into the back of her skirt. The kidnappers slapped cuffs on her wrists and sat her on the uncomfortable chair.

She easily got her hands out of the cuffs, but these guys had weapons. They were certainly smarter than the last guys to kidnap her.

Oscar better get there soon.

She didn't know that as soon as they called to demand money, Zac had Oscar tracing the call. He let his computer do it's thing while he loaded his gun with bullets. He was going to do all he could to get her back.

As soon as he had the location, he set off with Lando and Pato. His knee bounced as Pato drove them, Oscar giving him the directions. God, they'd taken her so far away. There was no telling what they'd done to her for the time she'd been missing.

The outside of the warehouse wasn't well guarded at all. Lando and Pato counted all of the guards inside and Oscar caught sight of her.

The cuffs were still hanging from one of her wrists as she sat there. Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she getting up out of her seat and marching out of there like in all of the stories he'd heard about her?

"I'm going in," he whispered and pulled his gun from its holster.

But Lando pulled him back. "Wait," he said and gestured to Pato. "We'll make a distraction out the front and you go around the back," he said and Oscar nodded.

Lando and Pato's idea of a distraction was... interesting. At the sound of the music, several men headed outside. The ones that were left inside were easy for Oscar to take care of. When Pato started dancing, Oscar headed to the back of the warehouse.

He was a damned good shot. While Pato and Lando took out the men at the front, Oscar shot the others in the warehouse. When the first man hit the ground, the one who seemed to be running the operation pulled her out of her seat and pressed his gun to her head.

"Show yourself!" He demanded. He pushed the gun against her head more until it was tipped to the side.

Holding up his hands, Oscar walked into the warehouse. When he was told to put his gun on the floor and kick it away, he did. "You okay, Sweetheart?" He asked, looking at her.

"Never better," she answered, but her voice was shaking. Fuck, he needed to get her out of there.

"You're the big hero," said the man in charge. "You're here to save the day and ride away into the sunset." His laugh was utterly terrifying. "What if I just blew her head off right it front of you? Do you think this rich little bitch bleeds gold?"

Her eyes shut. This was it, she was going to die.

Red splattered across her face, but it wasn't her blood. The man in charge dropped his gun and slumped forward, the weight of his falling body pulling her to the floor with a shriek. Oscar shouted her name. He rushed over and pushed the dead body away from her own.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered and wiped at the blood on her cheek. Tears were falling and Oscar wiped them away as he checked her over for any injuries. Aside from a bruised wrist and trauma, she was okay.

Pulling her into his chest, Oscar looked past her. There was Lando, lowering his gun. His eyes moved to her, eyebrows raising in question. But Oscar shook his head and pushed her hair behind her ears.

Reaching up, she kissed his cheek. "Hey," Oscar whispered, pulling away from her. "C'mon, Sweetheart, not now," he whispered and pulled her to her feet.

She blinked up at him and wiped away her tears. "Come on, Oscar. Let me kiss you," she whispered, her lip wobbling.

His thumbs moved over the back of her hand in such a soothing manner. "I love you," he replied. "Really, I do. But I don't want to kiss you if you just want to sleep with me."

Her head hit his chest. "Don't do this now," she mumbled. "Not in this disgusting warehouse with a dead body behind us." She let her arms settle around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

The way he was looking at her, it had her ready to cry. She hid her head against his chest and shut her eyes, ignoring the way her heart was beating. "I don't want to just kiss you to sleep with you," she whispered and sucked in a deep breath. "I-I like you, Oscar."

His fingers touched her chin and tipped her face towards him. "Sweetheart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. And then he kissed her cheek, the one that wasn't covered in blood.

And then he kissed her, lips slotting against her own. She sobbed into his mouth and Oscar squeezed her tighter. It said all that it was supposed to. I'll watch over you, I'll keep you safe. I love you.

Taking her hand, Oscar led her out of the warehouse. In that moment he vowed to never let anything like this happen to her again.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

[transmascsteveharrington]

Prince Steve who loses a battle and his hearing gets send to the sea by his father as a punishment. He's a disgrace, to never return to the kingdom. Steve doesn't need to hear to know that his father told the crew to drown him, or let pirates kill him, or just wait for a storm to take him.

Steve tries to his best to be of use on the ship, but he has no illusions. He knows his father pays well and that the crew hates his guts, thinking he is nothing but a spoiled brat. And even if her were to prove them wrong and prove himself, they are too scared of his father to obey his orders. Steve knows when he boards the ship that his days are numbered.

He spends most of his days under deck after it becomes evident that the crew doesn't want his help. His nights he spends standing at the ship's bow staring at the ocean and staring at the moon. Thinks about how waves and sky melt into one in the dark of the night. How the moon will call out and the waves will sing back and the ocean will follow. Worlds apart and yet one in the dim reflection of light on the restless surface. Steve has made his peace with dying.

His life has not been fulfilled, but it has been longer than expected. Steve has lived with bated breath, just waiting for his father's temper to finally snap and one of the knights' lances to slip during training, or the cooks' food to grow rotten and poisonous.

Just like the moon to the ocean, death has always been looming above Steve, calling out to him, just waiting. And Steve is fine with it. Mostly. He just really wishes he had been in love at least once. He can't hear the song moon and ocean sing to each other anymore, but he kicks off his shoes bare feet on wooden planks and feels the love ocean and moon have for each other in the waves crashing against the hull.

His mother used to sing him to sleep, an old song. A caged bird singing out to his lover, waiting patiently, asking to be freed and whisked away. His mother has died waiting. Steve doesn't remember the lyrics, would probably not pronounce the words correctly anymore anyways. But he still knows the melody. He hums along with the ocean and yearns together with the moon.

The crew always ignores him so Steve doesn't notice when one day their eyes become distant and milky. When the ship stirs towards cliffs he doesn't question it. Just thinks that this might be it, this is where he will be thrown overboard and die. The ship crashes, planks splintering apart and Steve does tumble, falls overboard while the crew jumps. Bodies hit the water, but his head is the only one that breaks back through the surface.

He spots motion in the water, thinks sharks, doesn't know why he bothers but he tries to make it to the nearest cliff and climbs onto the coarse rock. A dark figure follows him. It's not a shark though that emerges once Steve has made it onto the cliff, even though it has just as sharp teeth. Sharp teeth and gills and claws and beautiful brown eyes and an almost human face matching the almost human upper body.

Sirens aren't meant to be pretty, they only lure with the promise of heated desire and quick release, no need to actually look the part. They are half monster anyways. Still, the siren in front of Steve looks beautiful, flashes his fangs in a grin as he lifts himself up on Steve's cliff.

Steve is tired the siren won't have to

sing to lure him to his death, the siren can just take him. He doesn't though, just stares at Steve, moves his lips and Steve, sick of it all, just snarks back, "I'm deaf you dimwit. So if you wanna eat me just get on with it."

The siren's smile falls. He's probably not used to his food talking back let alone be rude. His clawed hand reaches out for Steve and Steve presses his eyes shut, expecting pain. Instead, the siren cups his face gently, claw brushing over his cheek. Steve doesn't remember the last time someone had touched him with tenderness.

When Steve opens his eyes again confused the siren removes his hand and begins to sign. Steve's jaw drops a little, he knew sirens could speak whatever language to lure whoever they needed to lure. He hadn't expected them to know sign too.

"I'm not going to eat you, little prince," the siren signs. "I heard you call out for me so I came. You sing so lovely."

Steve still gapes, "What?"

"It's an old song," the siren signs. "The moon and the waves were not the only ones who listened."

Steve stares at the siren. The siren who heard him hum, who had heard him wait, heard him ask to be whisked away. The siren has come for him but not to eat him.

"What's your name?"

"Eddie."

"And what now Eddie?" Steve asks.

Eddie reaches into the water where there is another dark figure. When he takes his hand back out he hands Steve dark algae he has never seen before.

"You can take these and join me and my swarm, they'll allow you to breathe underwater," Eddie explains. "Or you'll say the word and I'll return you to the nearest land. Your choice."

It's the easiest choice Steve has ever made. Return to a place that was never home, live alone and in fear. Or follow the siren who heard his call and came for him. Steve swallows the algae.

"I choose you."

Eddie smiles again, holds his hand out for Steve to take before he pulls Steve underwater and for the first time Steve actually feels like he can breathe freely.

Growing a tail, gills, fangs and claws isn't pleasant. But Eddie holds him through it, hand brushing through Steve's hair. Steve can't hear Eddie, but he can feel the vibrations in Eddie's chest as Eddie hums soothingly.

He has no expectations after Steve joins his swarm. Seems to be happy to just be around Steve. But Steve called for Eddie the same way the moon calls for the ocean and just like the waves Eddie had come. Falling had been inevitable from the beginning.

They'll drift, bodies and limbs entangled, Steve's hand gently resting on Eddie's throat as Eddie returns the favor and sings for Steve. It's another old song. A love song. Steve can feel Eddie's love under his fingertips vibrating in Eddie's throat and beating in his chest. The song is not going to lure anyone else, one that belongs to Steve alone. Though Eddie never had to lure Steve, Steve lured him first. But even without his song, Eddie would have come for his little prince. The same way the ocean will always come for the moon, sky and water one during the star-lit night.

[pizzabox-box]

Deep dive into the "Dead Man Walking AU"

SPOILERS AHEAD! If you haven't read the introductory comic yet I strongly advise you to read it first!

Watch out! Hurting Peppino, tomato sauce and long walls of text ahead!

This AU takes place in an alternative timeline where Fake Peppino defeats and kills real Peppino in their fight on the fourth floor. After doing so he ingests real Peppinos essence. (fancy way of saying he bit off a good chunk of Peppino) and thanks to this he‘s able to perfectly take Peppino’s form.

He also gains Peppino’s memories and an inteligence of a regular human. And only then, as memories that aren‘t his own invade his mind and a man’s last thoughts before his death echo in his head, he realizes what have he just done.

The guilt drives him to finish what Peppino started. He climbs to the top of the tower, defeats Pizzahead and the other bosses, crumbles the tower, and takes over Peppinos restaurant. Nobody, except for him, knows what happened on the 4th floor. Question is, how long? How long can he keep this secret? How long will he be able to keep this illusion alive? How long before the consequences of his actions eat him alive?

Thanks his newly acquired inteligence he’s able to speak properly and has complete control over his more monstrous side. Through he can still do all the things Fake Peppino is known for, if he chooses to. (like speaking the „gibberish“ language, deforming, reforming and miscellaneous frog stuff) He  knows how to make a good edible pizza but has to wear gloves while handling pizza dough to prevent a piece of him getting into it and a clone forming. (I don’t have to explain why pizza coming to life would be devastating, right?)

As mentioned above "Peppi-NO" has real Peppino’s memories. He has reacurring nightmares based off real Peppino’s memories. Most often the war and real Peppino‘s last moments. (He has two sets of memories from before the incident, his own and real peppinos. Luckily he’s able to clearly differentiate between them. This also means that he gets to experience Peppino’s death from two points of view. Quite lovely, isn’t it? )

He treats other characters like real Peppino would. But doesn’t feel any real connection to them. „I’m mean to the Noise, because real Peppino would be mean to the Noise“ Kind of mindset. The only exception is Noisette who was Fake Peppino’s pal before the incident. He views her as a friend but still needs to keep the act up around her.

The best way to understand this character is to put yourself into their shoes. So...let’s do a quick thought experiment: You are you, right? Of course! It makes perfect sense. But now imagine this. You are not actually you. YOU are a clone of yourself, who managed to kill off the real you. And all of your memories are not actually your own. What would „your“ friends and family think if they found out? If they found out that the real you is dead? Hell. How would you react if you found out that your lifelong friend was actually killed by a skinwalker few months ago and the damn thing has been pretending to be them ever since?? Imagine that for a second...

Let’s not forget. This is actually Fake Peppino we’re talking about. Despite everything there’s still a silly side to him that sometimes shines throught the facade.

To summarize this character in one sentence. He hurt Peppino and now he’s stuck in his personal hell.

There's a lot to this character I haven't mentioned yet. Well, hopefuly I didn't forget anything important. In case you have any questions feel free to ask! I will be opening Q and A for this this character (and also the others)

[chefkids]

The Bear's Magic Tricks: From Dreams to Love Stories to Trainwrecks to Alien Motherships

The Bear Episode 9 Apologies starts of with a montage of magic and movies. The scene begins with a black screen reflecting ourselves onto it. Because this scene is about addressing us directly, as viewers and observers of the show itself and the process of filmmaking and creating magical unexpected moments within the show. It's Martin Scorsese in an interview talking about the movie Hugo.

Hugo is about an orphaned boy living in a train station, who is in charge of winding up the clocks. He likes fixing things because he believes everything has a purpose. That life is like a machine and there are no extra parts, because everything has a role. He ends up fixing a machine that his dad left him, that draws a scene from his movie A Trip to the Moon. He finds that it was made by magician turned filmmaker Georges Méliès, a real life person, that is known for being an earlier adapter of cinema and inventing 'trick films' and special effects.

We then fall into Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo dream sequence and from there it blends into a dancing scene from The Red Shoes. Both of these scenes use 'tricks' and special effects to create the illusion of the man falling and the woman flying and being transparent like a ghost. Vertigo is about Scottie, a former police officer with a fear of heights, who is tasked with keeping an eye out on a wealthy man's wife, Madeleine. He falls in love with her and then witness her commit suicide by jumping off a church tower and is distraught because he feels like his fear of heights stopped him from saving her.

Then he encounters Judy, a woman that looks very similar to Madeleine, and he tries to change her to look and act more like Madeleine by buying her the same clothes and dying her hair. In the end he discovers that Judy and Madeleine are the same person and that Judy was part of a murder scheme for the real Madeleine and was tricking Scottie all along. But Judy also ends up falling to her death on accident.

The Red Shoes is about Victoria, a ballerina at Ballet Lermontov, who is told that she has to choose between her dance career and her love for Julian, a composer, when the director of the company fires him. She chooses Julian at first, but is unfulfilled when she has to give up dancing, so she goes back to the ballet to Lermontov, who is secretly in love with her. In the end she tries to go back to Julian, but dies by falling to her death from a balcony onto a train, because the red shoes are said to have a mind of their own and tricked her.

Something else is existing there, I don't know what. But there's something happening, it's not part of our normal day, literal nature of how we live.

We then see another shot from Vertigo, of Scottie spying on Madeleine at a flower shop, that places us viewers once again like voyeurs within the episode. Then a shot from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, a movie about UFO sightings and alien abductions, where a man, Roy, witnesses a UFO at a railroad crossing.

The shot from Vertigo is of Judy in her hotel room after Scottie took her to dinner and brought her home. In that scene she calls him out on only being with her because she reminds him of Madeleine. The scene from Close Encounters is when the aliens return the people they took from Earth. At the end of the movie Roy leaves with the aliens on the mothership because he wants to learn more about them and what is really happening. The Red Shoes and Vertigo are both love stories filled with deceptions and surrealist moments. But we are like Roy, witnessing something that we can't completely explain, that is out of the normal, that not everyone can see or believe in. But Roy from the very start of the movie told us that he enjoys magic.

But we're trying to create something different.

Then we see a shot of Méliès' A Trip to the Moon as it turns into a coin spinning, Victoria from The Red Shoes turning while dancing in the spotlight, Madeleine from Vertigo's hairstyle that spirals onto itself, a UFO sighting from Close Encounters, the staircase from Vertigo then Scottie waking up from his dream sequence. Like the very first episode when Carmy wakes up from his nightmare to a bright circular light.

The symbols of Vertigo's spirals and The Red Shoes ballerinas can be seen in Sydney's own t-shirts in Season 2 and 3.

We then see a series of magic tricks and illusions like a man standing on woman's hand, levitating a table and a woman, and boots walking themselves away and a lot of other clips from Méliès' trick films. There's a shot from The Red Shoes of a dancer turning into Lermontov then turning into Julian, then Victoria runs into him, as she is torn between choosing between her career and love, it creates the illusion of her being in front of the movie screen as she runs towards him, breaking the fourth wall within the movie. The Bear is being upfront and honest to us about what tricks they are trying to pull right in front of our faces. They are telling us they have been tricking us.

The Red Shoes is essentially the journey that both Sydney and Carmy are on, but in different ways. Carmy believes he has to give up amusement and enjoyment and love in order to be successful as a Chef and get a star, but he is also trying to get a star out of love for Syd that he isn't fully aware of or willing to admit to himself. Meanwhile Syd is stuck trying to decide if it's worth leaving people she loves in order to be more successful at her career and make a name for herself. Like Vertigo, The Bear itself is trying to make one woman (Claire) fit the mold of another woman (Sydney) by dressing her the same and having Carmy give her what Sydney likes and take her where Sydney has been.

This magic dream like sequence is really an explanation for this entire season and previous ones. They are telling us directly as the audience the tricks they have up their sleeves. Carmy is stuck in a dream weave.

More on clocks, trains, dream weave, ghosts, hauntings, the fourth wall, sleight of hands, Hugo, Vertigo, The Red Shoes, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind to come...

[lqveharrington]

Hidden Hatred | V.

summary: You’re a new Overlord and meet Vox for the first time. Who knew what that first interaction would do for the both of you down the line.

pairing: Vox x witch Overlord!reader

includes: name calling, mentions of murder, technically enemies to lovers, Vox being whipped by you, jealously, suggestiveness, teasing, fluff, angst if you squint, (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: 1st request for Vox done! Also, tell me why I love giving them powers like wanda? it’s so cool tho

When you became an Overlord, you quickly recognized all the other Overlords at meetings, matching their personality to name. For example, Alastor’s voice effects gave the illusion of a radio, hence Radio Demon. Or Carmilla and her pointe shoes made of angelic steel. However, there were some Overlords who never attended the meetings, sending in one of the associates in place. The Vees being the only Overlords to do so, typically sending the youngest to attend the meetings. In doing this, you never met the others, refusing to associate online presence with their real self.

So when Vox came in place for Velvette for one of the Overlord meetings, you were slightly confused.

“Vox, how lovely for you to join us this afternoon.” Carmilla gestured toward the Television Demon across the table, her stare sharp when he tapped away on his phone.

“Uh-huh, can we make this quick? I have a company to run.” He threw her a bored look and scanned the rest of the room, noticing a new face. “Who the hell is this bitch?”

Your face jumps in surprise at his words before giving him a small smile. “It’s—“

“You know what? I don’t give a shit.” Vox glanced back at his phone. “Please, continue Carmilla.”

You huff, conjuring up red wisps from your fingertips to mess with while the meeting continues. You thought dealing with Velvette when you first met was a pain, but Vox was ten times worse than she was, and you just met! He seemed interesting, and you never expected a demon Overlord to have a television for a head, but his disinterest in you put you in a sour mood. You genuinely wanted to understand how he was an Overlord, but it seemed impossible with his nature.

“Now dear, let’s not think of murderous thoughts.” Alastor hummed in your direction when he saw you send a death glare toward the Television Demon as you left the meeting room, to which you only received an eye roll back. “Only I can have an enemy like him.”

“Al, during our short break he told me to fuck off and shoved his finger in my face!” You seeth as your eyes glow red with more wisps emitting from your fingers. “I’m going to murder him.”

Alastor caught your arm, “You will not do such things to an Overlord. If he appears at the next meeting and continues to act rude toward one of our gracious ladies, please tell me.”

“Of course, Al.” You snap your fingers, creating a portal to your Overlord territory. “I’ll see you in a month.”

Although you weren’t going to see all the Overlords in one place for a month, that didn’t mean a certain Television Demon consumed your thoughts because of your behavior toward one another during one meeting. It seemed as if every piece of technology reminded you of him, causing some unwanted thoughts to form during wanting times.

Much like you, Vox’s thoughts were filled to the brim of you. How has he never met you? How has Velvette never mentioned a new Overlord in Pentagram City? Oh, he wanted to know more about you. It was only a matter of time before he realized he was entirely whipped by your presence.

“What’s up your ass?” Velvette stepped inside the elevator with Vox as he messed with his suit for the nth time. She already had a suspicion something was up when he decided to tag along for the meeting, but he was acting nervous for a group of people he disrespected. How the fuck does that even work? “Vox.”

“What?” He whipped his head over to his shorter associate as the elevator door dinged.

She gave him an unimpressed look, “What’s going on in your system? You look like you’re going to reboot any second now.”

“Do I?” He reached up to touch his screen, pulling out his phone for vitals.

Velvette furrowed her brows at his reaction when they walked into the meeting room, a couple of other Overlords mingling amongst themselves. “Okay, what’s the fucking problem? Is there someone you—“

“Vox and Velvette.” Carmilla took her slow strides into the room, quickly diminishing the added noise. “To what do we owe the pleasure of two out of the three Vees?”

“This fuck wanted to join me for no reason.” Velvette jabbed her thumb in Vox’s direction, earning a snort from you. All heads turned as you covered your mouth, letting a quick apology fall from your lips.

Carmilla raised a brow, “Thank you… We’ll start off with the…”

Her voice soon became white noise to Vox as he took his seat, glancing up at you every few seconds. God, he hated the way you would quietly speak with Alastor or how you made eye contact with him just to break it with a glare. He hated the way you always dressed to your heart's content and how you failed to respond to Carmilla when asked a question. He hated how he failed to actually hate you.

“Vox, you’re wrecking Carmilla’s table,” Velvette murmured in his direction as Vox’s claws dug deeper into the table’s top.

He looked down at the table, pulling his claws out. He was too focused on your quiet laughter with Alastor to notice the damage. As your quiet laughter subsided, you made eye contact with Vox again before glancing down at the claw marks, and raising a brow at the television.

‘It’s boring.’ Vox mouthed toward you.

You pursed your lips at him, not understanding the game he was playing. ‘Of course it is, it always is.’

Vox rolled his eyes in a joking manner, shooting his attention back to the Overlord in front of the table. You, on the other hand, shot a quizzical look toward him. Sure, your dead heart sped up a bit, and you felt your face warm, but it was only an exchange of two sentences. You felt the red wisps emit from your fingertips again from confusion, pulling at the soft fog created by the magic.

“My dear, what’s gotten you all out of sorts?” Alastor caught up with you when the meeting adjourned with a sharpened grin, noticing your encounter with the Television Demon.

“What do you mean?” You glance back at Vox who offered you a small smirk. Waving him off, you let a small smile slip through.

“That, my dear!” He squinted his eyes toward the television. “Don’t fraternize yourself with him, he’s involved in too much trouble.”

You tilt your head back to Alastor, “We’re in Hell, I can’t think of any reason why anyone would not be in trouble.”

“What I mean to say is don’t get too comfortable with that… thing. It’s not ideal.” His ears fell flat as you paid zero attention to him.

“I won’t. Plus, I’m sure he got bored and bothered the first person he saw. After all, he did tell me to fuck off during the last meeting.” You tuck your arms behind your back. “Don’t worry so much about me, Al. I can handle myself just fine.”

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about the man you’re associating yourself with.” He patted your head. “Until next time, my dear.”

You watch as he slips away with his shadows, rolling your eyes at his antics. It was highly unlikely that you would start a friendship with Vox, considering the people he lives with. Alastor had nothing to worry about, it was just a moment of boredom consuming the both of you.

At least, that’s what you told yourselves. Satan knows that the first interaction was uncalled for, but it wasn’t Vox’s fault. No, he blamed himself for the image he had to uphold and being struck by a new Overlord’s looks. But as time passed, along with meetings, the urge to see each other became stronger, resulting in meetings outside of the Carmine building.

Literally.

“Doll, you take way too long to get here.” Vox pulled you toward him by your hand, linking them together.

“Aw, I’m sorry. Were you too scared to be here all on your own? Too afraid there are no bodyguards to protect you?” You tease with a wide grin. You watch as he rolls his eyes at you, tugging you closer. You laugh while patting his chest, “I had to deal with an incompetent sinner. I know you wanted to spend more time together before the meeting.”

“You have to make it up to me now.” He smiled down at you, eyes filled with admiration.

You hum, your own eyes gleaming in such a lovesick look. “Like what, Mister Vox? How should I make it up to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tilted your head further up, the electricity over his hat reflecting his fast heartbeat. “What do you think?”

“I think…” You flit your gaze to his lips before moving them back up to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t be in debt to you.”

“Is that so, doll?” He squints as he tightens his hold on you. “I think I’m deserving of something at least.”

“Mm, no.” You squeeze his hand. He gives you a playful look before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You grin before reciprocating, using your free hand to hold his shoulder. The both of you separate, eyes fluttering open with soft smiles. “Must you defy me, handsome?”

“Only when I want to.” He whispered against your lips as he pressed more kisses on your lips. You giggle as you let your red wisps emit from your fingers, watching as your wisps pull him away from you. “Doll…”

“Mm?” You stay still as he continues to get pulled away by your powers.

“What are you doing?”

You flick your wrist, the wisps disappearing. “Nothing, you’re the one moving away from me.” Vox grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against him. You squeal as he peppers kisses across your face, “Vox, we could be seen.”

“Who’s going to come down this alleyway?” He left one last kiss on your lips, smiling as a fool would.

“The other Overlords who are going to attend the meeting.” You push his screen away as you catch the time on your watch. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know?”

“Yeah, but they should know you’re taken.” He squeezed your waist.

“You want them to think we hate fuck each other?” You grab his wrists as they sway you around. “You know they still think we hate each other right?”

“Who said we don’t?” He bared his teeth to you, earning an eye roll. “You can’t tell me you don’t like it—“

“Shut up.” You sucker punch his shoulder. “The Tech Overlord dating the Witch Overlord? Never.”

“Never.” He linked your hands again, leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I despise you.”

“Horrible thought.” You pull him along out of the alley, separating as soon as you see Alastor appear out of the shadows. You watched the Radio Demon send you a sharpened grin, which you returned with a small smile.

Although you kept your relationship a secret from the likes of sinners and Overlords, both the Technology Overlord and Witch Overlord knew what they were to each other, even if that meant it was kept hidden.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[heartbreakprincewille]

Erik is a metaphor for the Monarchy

This season has given me so much to think about Erik and Wilhelm's idolization of Erik, and how it plays a dual role in Wilhelm's arc as a character.

I think Erik represents Wilhelm's motivation to carry forward the legacy of an institution which is slowly crumbling in its relevance (in the fictional Sweden atleast, I have no idea about the geopolitical scenario of the real-life monarchy in Sweden). Yes, Wilhelm does come from a lineage of a family relevant in history, but not only he is too young to understand that burden but he is also someone who does not feel a personal connection with that burden, unlike August(which ironically also stems from his love for his father). But he does feel that personal connection to Erik, not only because they are brothers but also Erik seems to be the only one Wilhelm can fully be vocal about his thoughts until he meets Simon. Erik is what separates Wilhelm from that burden of legacy and responsibilities.

But then Erik dies. Erik's death not necessarily represents the death of the monarchy, but it's still the death of the stability that the system thrives on. Royals want everything in control, and we can see that a lack of control runs everything berserk in that system. Erik's death is the beginning of the legacy weighing down on Wilhelm in full force, how the monarchy is just a system that thrives in perpetual succession and does not care if a spare fills the shoes of an heir unwillingly. He is expected to mould himself in the image of Erik, and the personal connection Wilhelm lacked with the Monarchy takes the shape of Erik in his mind- he believes that he is doing good to Erik's memories if he steps up as a suitable Crown Prince, but in the end, he's just catering to the system, not Erik. Even if the system is full of lies and secrets and he is forced to part ways from his authentic self.

But then he realizes that he does not want to part ways with himself, and how he stands apart as an individual when he is with Simon. Trying to get Simon back was also an attempt to reclaim his individuality, and the more he tried to gain everything back by the easiest way possible, the more he lost Simon and got pushed to the deep end. The Monarchy still loomed on the horizon, he still wanted to uphold Erik's memory by complying with the mould his mother and the Royal Court has been preparing for him. But when he gets Simon's love back, he also gets back his individuality, and how it leads to an epiphany only his free self could have made in his speech.

The illusion reigns supreme even in his relationship with Simon, because Wilhelm thought that he can be a Crown Prince and Simon's boyfriend at the same time, but the more they progressed with the burden together, it became clear that what Wilhelm wants to be is at clear odds with the system he is being prepared for.

Then the illusion shatters with August's confession. It's utterly heartbreaking that Erik and his homophobic actions put deep cracks in Wilhelm's illusion because in the end, he was still his brother. But he will forever remain scarred by the possibility that maybe Erik could have not accepted his individuality and his love for Simon. His first safe haven he found as a child, and which continued to be one when Wilhelm's grief became too painful, all shattered by a revelation he had no answers to. And suddenly all the comparisons with his older brother became a suffocating chain around his head, and he explodes in a rage of fury to his parents.

Erik was not only a literal figurehead of the institution, but he was also a phantom manifestation of the Monarchy for Wilhelm's character. The ever-present apparition of a system he does not thrive in.

[yzzart]

"𝐎𝐡, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡?"

pairing: president!Coriolanus x f!reader.

summary: Coriolanus could do anything he wanted except run away from his past.

word count: 2.117!

warnings: content a little dark, manipulation, possessiveness, mention of lyrics from "queen of peace" by florence + the machine, mention of violence and death, explicit words

notes: just listen to this song and you will soon understand everything!

"Darling?"

Coriolanus' voice boomed through the atmosphere of the main room, which had a peculiar snowflake shape, along with the noises and clicks of his footsteps with his shiny, expensive, black-pigmented shoes. — By the obvious movement, the young man was restless due to your absence.

Coming to think and wonder if you had left without telling him, or, mainly, without asking him for permission.

No, wouldn't you be capable of doing something like that with him? Right. — He wouldn't admit it once again in his life, on his skin.

Continuing with his determined steps, Coriolanus began to feel more restless, wanting some information or a simple crumb of bread, poetically, about your whereabouts. — He could just scream your name trying to find you, but he kept that suggestion in a dark and unplanned place in his mind. — Coriolanus clicked his tongue, almost clenching his teeth.

Till a melody surrounded the ears of Coriolanus; she was far away, perhaps, at the end of the corridor where he was present. — The melody was muffled, almost inaudible, in terms of actually understanding the lyrics, but its vibration calmed him down, there being a limit to a certain point.

He approached the room, cautiously, and with each step, the louder and more understandable the song became, and the lyrics demonstrated meaning now. — Leaning his fingers on the golden handle of the white door made of the richest wood, Coriolanus opens it just a little, leaving a gap and having the opportunity to dazzle his image.

"And my love is no good…" — In such a sultry and melancholy tone with a mixture of unhappy emotion, your voice continued to invade the young man's attention. — "…against the fortress that it made of you." — The fallacies were determined on your delicate lips, like a fable.

While, indeed, a miserable lump formed precipitately in your throat; scratching your with such a blunt and barbaric intention. — The same knot that could be made to eliminate those who were accused and denounced for treason.

A knot that was once made, made by the rough, calloused and filthy hands of your loved one. — The same hands that touched your body like a sculpture, thinking about the delicacy and care he should monopolize with you; losing himself in a thought so dark, that he claimed to be the only one who could admire it. — Being able to tear out the eyes, or even the hearts, of those who try to win a touch or greeting from you.

Coriolanus's hands were already dirty, so what would be the point of not getting them some more dirty?

"Blood is running deep." — Your hands passed over the sublimely rich fabric of your dress and with a reddish pigmentation, which was not subtle and, incredibly, of a very strong and intense tone. — "Sorrow that you keep." — That piece of clothing was clearly a gift of passion and dedication from your lover.

Passion could be a very strong word and a little dubious, in some cases, even intolerable. — You didn't believe that, which was possibly ironic coming from a girl from the Capital. — However, even though he deeply hated how his fingers were being pressed against the thorns of a rose, Coriolanus announced that it was out of passion; even not being.

He would never believe in that feeling again in his life, in his death or in his, presumably, incarnation. — His poisonous and lying lips would not risk uttering that word; and feel fragile, and so weakened again. — You would never be enchanted by the illusions and songs of a bird.

Coriolanus would not admit another reflection of his defeat against that little bird.

"Now you have me on the run." — The lyrics fit perfectly into the young man's troubled mind; wanting to drive him insane, even beneath that skin lies. — He felt like he was eighteen again. — "The damage is already done." — There was a pain behind those words, perhaps, accompanied by a meaning.

It seemed that the order of the song had been tampered with, a modification, vulgarly, made without any kind of shame or embarrassment in being expressed. — Because that was the main purpose; something that was exposed and taught by a little singing bird in the bitter breast of Coriolanus. — And, that way, you felt and let yourself experiment and experience.

All this because of him. — All this Lucy Gray has already done and had the opportunity to change and escape.

The young president felt his blood boil, expanding into a relentless and violent burning; just like him. — Coriolanus desired, longed to end that miserable song, to interrupt what, in fact, was bewitching and weakening his consciousness; he felt persecuted. — However, never destroyed. — So suffocated, in a perverse way.

"Is this what you want?" — How come you hadn't noticed his presence yet? Even Coriolanus's breathing was intimidating, and warned any soul of who was nearby. — "Cause you're driving me away…" — He wanted to laugh, in fact, he wanted to laugh at his testimonies turned into song; perhaps this was one of the symptoms of nervousness.

Your lover forced himself to bury any trace of tension that coursed, or rather, that flew, freely, between his body; he did not accept that such an inferior and ordinary feeling coming into contact with him. — Coriolanus' nostrils already smelled the wild fragrance of the forest; that smell of wet earth, of branches and leaves wet with a mixture of mud and the, terribly, natural aroma of birds. — Snow was starting to feel disgusted with himself.

He wanted to mock himself, mock that thought, mock the way he was hallucinating.

You continued, unbearably, ignoring the presence of Coriolanus; realizing it as if he were a ghost from an insufferable and uncomfortable past, analyzing the only way to save yourself from him. — Image of you remained calm, balanced and stable, possibly acting; exercising a moment of pretense over his emotions conceived in that composition. — Was that truly possible?

"Some things never sleep." — Your voice developed a weakness, little by little, and became a punished whisper trying to complete the desolate song; like a little bird asking its mother for help and losing its voice but never stopping singing.

Coriolanus desired to push open the door of wood so rich and well wrought, thus ending with that despicable and tormenting torture; normally, the young boy would order with subtlety and supposedly being careful with his words directed at you, however, that circumstance was not considered normal. — More sudden action would be tolerated. — But, something in Coriolanus prevented him from committing such an act.

Suddenly, Coriolanus's strength had disappeared, leaving no footprints or any simple traces; he didn't have the courage or his arrogant, arrogant bravery coursing through his blood at that moment. — The president of Panem did not know how to explain, or justify, why and how this was happening, precisely, to him; For the first time in years, he didn't have an answer on his sharp tongue.

Coriolanus remained standing, watching your image walking through the modest environment, so organized and dark in color with some light tones that it made you sick; unfortunately, the issue of decorating the room did not have your help or opinion, as everything was requested by Coriolanus. — Now your steps echoed, softly, on the wooden floor that shined, to the point of showing a little reflection, and his attention was contented with the bookcase that was present. — At least one good thing, you said when you first saw it.

It was a whim that Coriolanus asked to put on, especially, for you; something that was recognized with a lot of love and gratitude, he remembers that an emotional smile remained on your lips the entire day. — You had loved, in fact, adored and so grateful for the attention you received from your lover.

Most of the books that were there addressed and talked about the Capital, of course; the words discussed Panem's victories, valuing its homes and riches, describing its beauties in each paragraph and despising the districts and rebels in each verse. — Even though you were so unhappy, not wanting to understand that hatred, that desire to extinguish so many people and children, you continued reading. — Having no options about what to do with such immense free time and being so lonely.

At least the singing was over, Coriolanus thought. — His body was already ready to move away from that door, wanting to return to his main and future tasks, not allowing any more distractions. — And burning, with rigidity and robustness, the traces of his thoughts about his past, about his miserable eighteen-year-old soul, about the little bird that escaped from its cage.

But, from the looks of it, Coriolanus had found another and this time, he would not leave the door to his golden cage open and there were no more bars for everyone to see what was inside. — Only he would have this opportunity, this satisfied and sweet privilege.

"Is this what you want?" — Once again, your voice vibrated through the room, and it seemed as if ypur lips were pressed against Coriolanus's ears, for he heard clearly and so loudly; wanting to rip them out, something peculiar and curious because your voice was beautiful and at the same time managed to charm him.

Coriolanus wanted to slam his chiseled, arrogant face against that damned door, just like that, opening it.

Raising his fascinating and deeply honorable blue eyes, Coriolanus followed your body as it walked again, with tight steps, once again across the room and passing by a large and clean mirror; that Coriolanus forgot, without tolerance, its existence. — Another whimsical gift that he had ordered placed there. — And he was able to admire, contemplate himself in your beauty and affirm how that color suited you, and even commented to Tigris; and how that dress flattered your curves.

That piece of clothing, which cost more than the blood, body and, possibly, the soul of the people who lived in the Capital, valued your body. — Satisfying the eyes and desires of Coriolanus.

Taking a deep breath, Coriolanus controlled himself, imposing a limit on his mind and leaving such inappropriate and unrespectable thoughts for a correct and appropriate moment. — When he blinked his eyes, committing himself to regularizing his affairs, his eyes deepened for the last time on you, thus acting in a silent farewell. — And you continued in front of the mirror, running your hand, for the second time, over your dress, looking for any wrinkles; and there were none.

Snow wasn't looking at your reflection, oddly enough, he was also looking for any wrinkles or loose threads, stubborn in the fabric. — And he concluded that there was nothing, everything was perfect. — His attention went to your reflection in the mirror, wanting to see your beautiful face, this time, and quickly, Coriolanus' body became static, completely immobile in front of what he had seen.

A pain so anguished and agonizing, as if he had been shot, that would tease his life until the end of it, formed in his chest; deepening with his uncontrolled breathing, his eyes glassy and almost watering, unable to blink. — Coriolanus looked like a harmless animal, who was facing his death and ready to be devoured. — Your hands began to sweat and, at the same time, a tingling sensation began between your fingers.

His saliva ran down his throat, and he couldn't even speak, it seemed impossible and he didn't have the chance or strength to even sigh. — The promising young man of Panem could be going crazy, when in fact, he was wishing he were dying.

"Cause you're driving me away." — You were no longer singing, now, your lips released a concrete affirmation, finding a certainty in your heart and directing it to the one who spied on your soul. — You knew he was there, you knew Coriolanus had his eyes on you from the beginning.

However, it was not your eyes that met his through the mirror; oh, Coriolanus wanted them to be his. — And as he wished, in fact, in better words, he cried out, begged. — And never being a man of belief, not believing in any supposition, or anything of the sort, not even in words of faith, Coriolanus prayed that he was going mad, becoming insane.

Coriolanus Snow imagined himself on his knees among splinters of wood and stones, begging that image, which was standing still, immobilized and, sternly, admirable, and staring at him to go away; that disappears, disappears without direction or path, just like it had done once. — He wanted to punch, hurt his hands, that unfortunate glass that reflected.

Because Lucy Gray's body was fixed on the mirror, instead of your.

[m3tr0n0m333]

»A SPARK OF HOPE«

A fankid AU: Introduction

Circa 200 years into the future…

Past the death of the renowned, world famous hero: Sonic the Hedgehog, his immortal rival resides in a secluded location not many know about, or dare to stumble upon. He’s made himself a peaceful abode, isolated from the rest of the world— prying eyes or hands seeking his power or presence.

Shadow merely wishes to live without the stress of catastrophe weighing on his shoulders. And with the death of the biggest villain of the era- Doctor Robotnik, he succeeds for the most part- until a mysterious illness overcomes him, and he’s forced to reach out for help.

Upon wandering to the familiar-yet-changed Emerald Town, Shadow spots a recognizable logo on a building.

With curiosity and intrigue, the ebony hedgehog makes his next exploration the inside of this tall establishment.

[REFS AND MORE UNDER CUT]

No, it will not stay this well formatted most of the time. Guess I just felt like putting effort into it.

This au focuses around Tails, Shadow, and my fankid, Sparks! (No ships between these three, although they do end up as a family of sorts.) (+ Silver, who exists around this time, gets to be the cool cousin of sorts)

Shadow, as described, had isolated himself for quite a few years. And got an illness. But it’s far from mysterious.

His inhibitor rings have rusted and aren’t as effective as they were, well, 200 years ago, causing his chaos energy to run irregularly and make him fatigued/sick. Of course, it was a gradual process, so it was a little difficult to have spotted it right away. And when you’re sick, the obvious becomes… less obvious?

During this lengthy intermission between supposed canon and au, (I may go off canon quite a bit. I’m not professionally well versed in all the Sonic lore…) Miles Prower (formedly gone as “Tails” for his iconic two tailed ‘mutation’) had grown rather successful. A well-off entrepreneur of his own brand. He lives comfortably, although he does lack the bonds he once had.

As a kitsune, Miles’ life expectancy is lengthened, and gaining another tail every 100 years. He had existed much past his more mortal friends and allies, but pushed forwards to a brighter future, sort of. In this time, he has developed more of his kitsune oriented abilities, taking a favor to illusions.

Shadow wanders upon the main building, the HQ erected at Emerald Town, where his house once was. As Shadow wanders, Miles is aware of the old friend bumbling through the building and decides to play a little prank with some illusions and the high tech security measures he has installed in the building. (Nothing harmful, promise)

Once Shadow reaches the top, Miles reveals himself with a bold act of bravado. As of which they have some reunion and reaccqeuaintence time. Shadow explains his problem to Miles, Miles points out the problem and offers to make Shadow new inhibitor rings (and fix his air shoes in the process). Afterwards, he offers a residence for Shadow with him, but the hedgehog refuses, intending to return to his reclusive life.

On his path of return, he comes across a kid, sitting alone in the rain.

He resembles someone.

Spiky blue quills colored like the wind and the sky, peachy fur on his chest and muzzle. Pointed ears, although a bit droopier.

He sat with his legs pressed against his chest, on the edge of the sidewalk. Alone, yet he wears an expression closer to irritation rather than fear or melancholy.

After some questioning, he discovers that the kid ran from an orphanage, one he describes as nasty and disrespectful to him, like gum sticking his shoe to the floor. He describes that he had ran, to find some freedom. He’s a fast runner, you know? Maybe if he can get faster and faster, he may actually break the barrier keeping him chained to the orphanage.

When the sky darkens, illuminating the moon and the stars, Shadow stands. To lead the kid back to where he should be encourages him to have hope, but without acting to give him it. Words are empty when actions don’t reflect it.

The kid begs to let him free. Lead him somewhere else, not back to his prison. No one will take him back in the orphanage. He deserves to be free. He can take care of himself out here- a string of reasons to grasp why he shouldn’t go back.

Shadow continues to walk in silence.

…

Perhaps it was pity. Shadow would like to believe it is, but it’s hard to describe the pull of his actions towards another decision. He felt this was right, despite denial weighing on this choice.

Shadow returned to the tall building, where Miles— although surprised to see his return— welcomed him back warmly. When asked for the reason of his return, Shadow provides a rather bashful explanation.

He doesn’t know how to take care of a child.

—

References + Character Design and Personality Rambles

Eyyyy it’s the old man (quite literally at this point. He’s like 200+ years??). How did he survive all those years in isolation without going insane?? I have no idea. He probably talks to the animal inhabitants of the place he lived in I think. I like to think maybe he found himself an ancient library to make himself at home and spent most of his time reading books and doing house chores.

To be honest I tried to reference other Shadow redesigns because I also wanted to put some more Black Arms traits on him, but I honestly don’t know know much about the Black Arms so all he got was a longer tail <3

He’s a tiiiny bit pinker in this design. Like the red highlights on his quills are more pivoted towards the pink on the color wheel, and the white fur also has a tint of pink. No reason. He just gets to be slightly pinker. As a treat.

^^ (Miles noticed. Shadow did not.)

Anyways, you may be wondering, why didn’t Shadow take the offer of staying with Miles the first time? After being alone without friends were so long, you would think he is drawn to the idea of having company again. Well, the thing is, I think that Shadow hates change, in a way. He’s drawn himself away from society, lived self sustained, without the pressures and all that. Suddenly, he gets the offer to reintegrate into a society he is not well versed in? Seems incredibly overwhelming. And Shadow believes he was perfectly content in his serene lifestyle.

He only reconsidered the second time because he doesn’t know how to take care of the kid he freshly adopted (and probably not correctly adopted either) and only thought of Tails for help. As far as he knows, Tails is the only other old friend that exists alongside him right now so…

This sets up the story of Shadow and Tails tries to take care of this kid and slowly forms into a type of found family that doesn’t quite fit into the boundaries of what a family would be like. They are not even close to traditional family roles, I think, other than a child-parent relationship between Shadow and Sparks (who I have yet to introduce)

During this story, Shadow gets back into the action of adventure again. He’s reminded of the exhilaration he felt in the past. Even little things such as banter and skating down hill. He missed it all, although he doesn’t admit it.

Here is Miles!! He dropped the name “Tails” after a while, deeming it something he doesn’t identify as deeply with anymore. (Maybe because no one was around to call him that old nickname anymore)

So you know how I mentioned he’s become an entrepreneur of sorts? It was bound to happen, I think. Imagine living 200+ years and still not figuring out how to earn the most money and live comfortably.

Anyways, while coloring his design, I did realize that he vaguely reminds me of Eggman… it’s probably the red, gold and white colors. Fits him well though, yeah? He always did share some traits with Eggman, I think. He just turned out more benevolent, he still has the high tech tendencies that Eggman held, as well as other habits.

I think Miles had earned some of an ego over time. When most acquaintances leave(died), and you rise to the top, everyone feels so far. And Miles stop bothering to seek out meaningful relationships to save him some suffering. He can still have fun, he can still have friends- just not with the strong intimate bond he had with his initial family.

When Shadow returned, he felt a spark- the hope- the opportunity to have a semblance of the old life again. Nostalgia is a strong feeling. That is why he offered for Shadow to stay. He didn’t expect him to, but that didn’t stop his heart from swelling with joy when Shadow did return.

Here is Sparks! The kid Shadow picked off the street yaknow yaknow… He is meant to resemble Sonic. Not uncannily resemble him though. Just enough that both Shadow and Tails can look at him and think… he kind of reminds me of his other blue hedgehog I had a deep connection with….

Part of why Shadow adopted Sparks is honestly because of his resemblance to Sonic. He would not like to acknowledge it, as it seems like such a cruel thing to give the hope of a new connection to someone that doesn’t know that that new connection did not start off new at all in the other side.

Of course, Sparks acts nothing like Sonic, despite similar appearances. Even though Sparks also shares the same sentiments— wanting freedom— as well as abilities— such as superspeed— Sparks acts more towards the pessimistic side. He’s not as charming as Sonic had been. (And although he does have superspeed, I believe it’s not to the extent that Sonic had.)

Additionally, when Shadow had been taking him back to the orphanage, he really wasn’t forced. Sparks intended to follow him back. Perhaps out of habit. And inevitable loop of escaping but returning once again. But also because if cowardice, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it by himself. He’s immature, he’s inexperienced, Sparks is aware of that, yet still tries- only to the extent of what he knows he can succeed: aka running away, but never staying away. His cowardice is one of the traits he does not share with Sonic.

During his description of the orphanage to Shadow, he’s a bit of an unreliable narrator. The orphanage isn’t as miserable as Sparks describes it as. It’s a pretty normal orphanage, Sparks is just a troublemaker- and he hates the idea of being trapped in one place.

Anyways, Sparks resembles a star of sorts. He’s a little star themed. <3

[brucewaynehater101]

Santa died in front of YJ but then there was either another Santa or the same Santa popping up later in DC so Santa can be killed but it's a temporary thing

This is why when Tim discovers that his grandparents are Santa and Mrs. Claus and he's being called to step up and fill Santa's shoes for a bit, it's a temporary gig, just until Santa pulls himself back together and comes back to deal with his responsibilities himself

Janet, as daughter of Santa and Mrs. Claus, has inherited some of maybe even all of her parents' talents. This includes being able to pull herself back together after death. She hasn't yet because when she "died" she was still pretending to be semi normal and also she doesn't want to deal with the smugness of her parents and the "I told you so" attitude they might unintentionally exude if/when she gets past the illusion that normal is a thing that is both desirable and achievable. Her consciousness is still around so Janet is also aware that the lecture/disapproval is warranted since her dedication to her views of normality meant she left her son behind and the longer she waits the worse the lecture/disappointment is going to get since her son is right there and she still hasn't pulled herself back together.

Poor fucking Tim, my gods.

I know it's not simple, but imagine your mom having the ability to return to you and her choosing her image over you. That would undoubtedly crush me.

Since Santa Clause is around for centuries (?), I bet it takes a while for Tim and Janet to form a decent relationship (although it would be tragic if Tim eventually grew older than Janet since he's half human).

I do hope that Santa and Mrs. Claus are doting on Tim and looking out for them while they wait for Janet to come around.

Ooh! While Tim is doing the Santa gig, does he end up discovering his abilities? Before this, he thought he was a fully non-magic human. What abilities does he end up getting (besides being stuck as 17 for a bit)?

[49-ibr]

Writeblr Ask Game!

There are 49 kinds of magic in 49. So, here's an ask game with a question for each kind. Knowledge of 49 is not necessary to play!

1. AIR - What is your WIP's first sentence?

2. BEASTS - Who is your favourite OC?

3. BLOOD - Which of your OCs would you want to have as your child?

4. CHANGE - If you had to restart your WIP from scratch, what would you change?

5. COSTUME - How much research have you done for your WIP?

6. COURAGE - What's the last word you had to google the definition of?

7. CREATION - What was your first WIP?

8. DARKNESS - Would you rather start a WIP with no plan, or with everything planned to the exact detail?

9. DEATH - What WIP would you want to be remembered for?

10. DESIRE - Have you ever written smut?

11. DESTRUCTION - What draft are you on?

12. DISEASE - If you had to live in a setting of your creation, which would you pick?

13. DREAMS - Have you ever written fanfiction?

14. EARTH - What inspires you most?

15. ENERGY - What song inspires you most?

16. ENVY - Who is your favourite writeblr?

17. EYES - How many planning documents do you have?

18. FATE - Have you always wanted to be a writer?

19. FEAR - What is your greatest fear as a writer?

20. FIRE - What is the worst thing you've ever created?

21. FLESH - Which OC would you most like to look like?

22. FORCE - What do you use to write?

23. GLUTTONY - How many notebooks do you have?

24. GREED - If you could steal a character from any other story, who would you take?

25. GRIEF - Do you regret killing off any characters?

26. HOPE - What would be your dream come true?

27. ICE - Are you cruel to your characters?

28. ILLUSION - What is the best line of description in your WIP?

29. LIGHT - Which OC would you most want to act like?

30. LOVE - What is your best writing advice?

31. LUST - Who is your hottest OC?

32. METAL - Can you write fight scenes?

33. MIND - What book would you most want to forget so you can reread it for the first time?

34. MUNDANE - Would you survive in the shoes of your main character?

35. PAIN - Has your writing ever made you cry?

36. PAST - How much do you foreshadow a plot twist?

37. PLANTS - What is your favourite thing about the world of your WIP?

38. PRIDE - Which famous author do you think you're better than?

39. ROT - Which of your OCs is the best villain?

40. SILENCE - Do you listen to music or watch anything as you write, or do you need silence?

41. SLOTH - What kind of scene are you worst at writing?

42. SOUL - What is your favourite WIP?

43. SPACE - Do you prefer Sci-Fi or Fantasy?

44. STORMS - Do you prefer metaphors or similes?

45. STRENGTH - What kind of scene are you best at?

46. TIME - Would you rather teleport your OC far into the past or far into the future?

47. TRUTH - Do you like your writing?

48. WATER - Do you prefer urban fantasy or high fantasy?

49. WRATH - Do you prefer writing endings or beginnings?

[liquidpaperdraws]

@lawlightweek2024 day 7: AU

!! I do not support JKR, which is why I enjoy Harry Potter exclusively through fan content and other means that don't put any more money in her pockets !!

That being said, this idea has been kicking around in the back of my head for months.

I'm honestly surprised almost nobody has done this crossover. I looked it up and there's maybe 7 or 8 fanfics and 12 pieces of fanart on all of tumblr, deviantart, fanfiction.net, and ao3 in total that combine Death Note and Harry Potter. It seems like it should be a more popular AU considering the overlap in time period and target demographic.

Alright, now here are some headcanons:

Light:

5th year

Was supposed to go to Slytherin, but convinced the sorting hat to put him in Gryffindor instead (that's where his father went, after all)

Gryffindor's token Evil Friend™

Wants to eliminate the death eaters and all dark wizards by any means necessary (as well as anyone who looks at him funny)

Is against unforgivable curses except when he uses them, because he totally has good reasons you guys

Nearly was able to get all three deathly hallows for himself

Avada kedavra avada kedavra avada kedavra

Good at persuasion, memory charms, and making polyjuice potion

Keeps killing so many others who are also trying to fight Voldemort for not being willing to murder as much as he is

Created the Death Note himself so he wouldn't have to keep spamming avada kedavra

L:

7th year

The sorting hat had a hard time deciding, but eventually picked Ravenclaw

He was disappointed (he wanted to be in Hufflepuff for the snacks)

Master of mind-reading, invisibility, divination

Possible werewolf

kept breaking the dress code by "forgetting" his socks, sweater, and shoes so he mastered illusion spells solely for the purpose of cloaking it look like he was wearing the uniform correctly and not getting in trouble

frequently uses duplication charms on cake so he can eat more of it without eating more calories

Doesn't talk to anyone but somehow knows all their secrets (he was spying on them using an invisibility cloak, crystal ball, etc)

His parents are unknown and dead so nobody knows how to be blood-racist to him

Lawlight:

L and Light constantly try to one up each other at wizard chess supposedly to show their superiority but really it's to impress each other

L got his hands on an invisibility cloak so he could follow Light around and spy on him but Light used the marauders map to figure out that L was following him

they won't admit their feelings for each other

Light started dating Misa (Hufflepuff) to beat the gay allegations but she realized what he was doing and decided to slip him a love potion to force him to love her back. L was the only person who noticed and begrudgingly decided to help Light by reporting her. Light confessed his feelings for L after that.

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Digital drawings of two original characters in black and white. The Ferrier wears a black, wide-brimmed hat; a shirt with puffy sleeves and an embroidered collar, cuffs, and hem; a vest with geometric patterns; a black, sleeveless overcoat with two lighter stripes near the hem; loose pants; and black sandals. They appear to have short, messy black hair, and their hat casts a shadow over their eyes.

The Sacrifice's clothes are almost entirely white and intricately embroidered. They wear a loose, long-sleeved shirt; a cropped and wide-collared vest which is buttoned together; dimije (voluminous pants which are gathered at the ankle); a cap with coins sewn into the sides; a very long veil which ends in tassels and is pinned to the cap; a necklace of coins; a belt of large metallic roundels; and black shoes. They have long, curly black hair and several moles on their face.

In the first drawing, the Ferrier stands while wringing their hands with an extremely flat expression. The Sacrifice stands behind them and carries a bag, looking off to the side with a small smile.

Next is a comic featuring the two of them, with all of the speech bubbles being cut out from Discord screenshots. There are full descriptions of all of the pages under the cut. End image description.]

first drawing based on this painting of a peasant and nun going to the market by amedeo preziosi; comic based on a convo between me and @wildcatfourteen that reads uncannily like our ocs LOL. happy birthday my friend <33

[Image description: Page one. The Ferrier has a small smirk as they point to an image which reads, "some of y'all would melt down in this situation. ONE HAS GOT TO GO: THE EYE, THE FORMLESS, THE ECSTATIC, THE SUN, THE WOUND, THE EGG." The Sacrifice replies with a carefree smile, "how can you choose ?? are they not all as g_d ordained ??" The next panel shows that the two are sitting on opposite sides of a rowboat, which is stopped at the bank of a river going through a forest. The Sacrifice says, "i mean i guess if youre talking like which motifs i personally like to use in my hymns … i dont do much with the egg so that one" The Ferrier frowns and says, "I don't know if I can forgive u for saying that. Egg… U GET RID OF EGG?" The Sacrifice: "WHICH ONE WOULD U GET RID OF??" The Ferrier: "The ecstatic"

Page two. The Sacrifice stares in astonished silence for a moment, and then says with a cartoony vein popping from their cheek, "I think ur saying that on purpose to piss me off. to get back at me for saying ehg. Why do u hold such hate in your heart" The Ferrier closes their eyes and says nonchalantly, "I'm sorry it's not out of hate." They look off to the side and mutter, "Except u started this with ur egg slander" The Sacrifice glares at them with dismay and says, "THE HATE IN YOUR HEART IS OVERTAKING YOU" The Ferrier glares back, smiling through gritted teeth, and replies, "LOOK IN THR MIRROR"

Page three. The Ferrier pinches the bridge of their nose and says, "I can't believe this is what's causing an argument" The Sacrifice puts their hands on their hips and snaps, "I WASNT EVEN SLANDERING EGGS? IM JUST SAYING PERSONALLY IF YOU FORCED ME? I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST EGGS I EAT THEM ALL THE TIME" The Ferrier: "ITS NOT ABOUT EATINF THEM EVEN THO THEY ARE DELICIOUS AND VERSATILE." They roll their eyes and add, "Sorry for wanting to shatter my shell and be birthed anew" The Sacrifice clasps their hands together with a smile, their eyes hidden by their speech bubble, and says, "see thats the thing for me there is no rebirth only resurrection . its not dying and being birthed anew its about dying and then undying . coming back from death with none of the catharsis of newness just being forced to hold on to the old and what you once were ." The Ferrier pulls their hat down over their eyes and argues, "You say that and yet that is the whole point there is never any real birth of newness but just the illusion of it and the necessity to keep that illusion bc there is no coming back anew but taking whatever dead pieces u have and reconstructing some choppy form of a fresh creature"

Page four. The two sit in silence for a moment. Then the Ferrier says matter-of-factly, "Just like how ecstatic state is fake" The Sacrifice glares at them and says, "how DARE you say ecstatic state is fake ." The background turns black as the Ferrier's eyes go wide, gazing dramatically down at the viewer. They thunder, "ITS TEMPORARY" The Sacrifice, also on a black background, holds their palms up with an ecstatic grin. One of their eyes is teary and a bright halo flashes around their head. They answer, "AS ARE ALL THINGS."

Page five. The Ferrier, looking irritated with a cartoony vein popping from their temple, says, "fine. Fine whatever." They turn away with gritted teeth. "I'm gonna go in my egg shell and not come out EVER !!!!" The Sacrifice smiles with a thumbs up and says, "ok you do that im gonna be out here achieving union with the Beloved 👍" The Ferrier turns as far away from the Sacrifice as they can and crosses their arms. "U go do that. Hmph!" The Sacrifice does the same. "HMPH -_-" A school of black fish swims through the river. A line at the bottom of the panel reads, "THEY STAYED LIKE THIS FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS." End image description.]

[peachesandcreames]

What Are We? Part 3

A/N: Any and All Military Mistakes Are My Own. I'd love to thank @mrsevans90 for helping me get the ball rolling on this installment. It would not be possible without their input and feedback!

Trigger Warnings: A Vague Disclaimer is Nobody's Friend. You and you alone are responsible for your reading material. Jake Seresin is a complete menace. I tried to tag as many as possible but it wouldn't let me tag everyone and for that I apologize. Angst in the form of parental death/drunk driving. Illusion to Goose's untimely passing. Airplane accidents. A little bit of smut because this is Jake we're talking about. I think that covers it. If I missed anything please feel free to let me know! Hearts, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤ Happy Reading 📚

The next morning came bright and early with Jake's alarm clock waking him. He groaned and rolled over to stop the offending noise. He slammed his hand down until he made contact and all noise ceased. Lying on his back he roughly ran his hand over his face trying to wake up, he looked out his window and the sun was barely peaking over the horizon. Today was going to be a very long day of running drills and flight plans.

Jake wished that it was you waking him up with your warm, soft lips and hands instead of his shrill alarm clock. He grabbed his phone that was sitting on his bedside table and saw that he had a missed text from you. Just seeing your name first thing in the morning brought a smile to his face. Y/N: Good Morning, Handsome. You're probably still sleeping. Call me or text me when you see this. If I don't hear from you I hope that you have a wonderful day!! xoxo Y/N

Jake tossed his phone onto his slept in bed and made his way to the head to drain the snake. His dog tags rattling around his neck and his grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. He quickly took care of business and washed his hands. He was desperate to hear your voice hoping that it would make his day go by quicker. Checking the time he saw that it was only a little bit past 6 in the morning.

He wasn't sure why you were awake so early but you hadn't texted him that long ago, he dialed your number and listened to it ringing on the other end. You picked up on the 3rd ring and answered, "Hello?" "Good morning sunshine. What are you doing awake this early?" You could hear the humor in his voice, Jake knew that you weren't a morning person at all. "Oh, ya know just thought that I would be up before the sun. You do this every day? On purpose?"

Jake let out a chuckle "hazard of the job, Sweetheart. So what are you doing up this early?" You groaned that Nat had talked you into joining her on her daily juice and jog as she called it. Phoenix always starts her day with a juice cleanse and a jog and she roped you into it. You were changing into a pair of leggings and matching Tshirt plus some sensible shoes. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and resumed your conversation.

"Oh you know, trying to fit in some sister quality time before she goes to work." You took a good long hard look in the mirror and decided that you looked fine for an early morning run. You were pretty sure that muggers wouldn't care what you looked like. "Can I ask you for a favor?" "Anytime. What you got for me?" You felt awkward asking and you figured that Jake could sense that.

"You don't have to be shy around me, remember I know what you sound like when you cum. " You could pretend to be scandalized but he was in the right. "Could I drop you my location? I'd just feel better knowing that you know where I am incase anything happens. Logically, I know that nothing will but I've definitely seen one to many true crime shows and horror movies that start with this exact scenario: Hot young women go jogging and boom they either find a dead body or end up as said dead body. "You were aware that you were rambling but couldn't stop yourself.

Jake thought it was adorable but he didn't want to diminish your anxiety and he thought it was cute that you were still shy around him after everything. "Of course you can. Do you know where Phoenix is taking you?" You pulled your phone away from your ear and googled the directions. "Mission Beach Park," you let Jake know as you scrolled through the pictures. It looked really pretty and not secluded but it was still dark outside and you'd rather be safe than sorry.

You dropped your location to Jake's cell phone and he heard the ding a few seconds later. You felt a little bit of relief that someone else knew where you would be. Now that you got that out of the way, it was time to move on to why you really texted him so early in the morning. You weren't sure how to broach the subject so you just dove right in. "So, next week Nat and I are hosting a little get together at the house. It was actually Amelia's idea and Penny's too. Everyone's invited. "

You kind of let the silence fill the void, the implication being that you were looking forward to seeing him again in a more personal setting. Jake decided to put you out of your misery, "wild horses couldn't keep me away from seeing you again. " You released the breath that you weren't aware that you were holding. "Good." Jake could practically feel your smile through the phone.

Phoenix yelled up the stairs that she was going to get ready and your freshly squeezed juice was sitting on the kitchen counter. You gave him all of the information for next week's gathering and you were hesitant to end the call. "I gotta run, literally. " You let out a snort and Jake thought you were adorable and had no problems letting you know that. "You're so goddamn adorable it hurts me. "

"Oh no, we wouldn't want you to be in any pain. You might have to come over and let me kiss it and make it better. " A sly smile on your face had Jake groaning into the phone. "Don't be a tease Y/N, you know that I'll drop everything and be there so fast your head will spin. " You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror and went downstairs to the kitchen.

You saw your juice where she said that it would be and you could hear the shower running as you took a sip of the green juice. It was surprisingly good and you finished about half. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Seresin." That brought a smile to his face as he was changing into a pair of athletic shorts and tshirt, you could hear his dog tags rattling as he slid them under his shirt. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Jake tried to keep his tone light when he told you that he was joining Coyote on his run followed by breakfast in the main dining hall followed by a few flight test runs and then being debriefed. "Just a typical day, sunshine. I should be done around 6. I'd love to take you out for dinner and drinks, pick you up and take you out on a proper date. You put on your best dress and get all dolled up for me. How's that sound?"

"I know what you're trying to do here, you're trying to distract me from you training for life and death missions, Lieutenant. " That got a laugh out of Jake. "Tell me that it's working?" You begrudgingly acknowledged that yes the idea of being wined and dined by him was definitely working on you. "Good. " You heard a banging on his door and you caught bits and pieces of his conversation with Javy. "Tell Javy that I say hi and you guys have a safe flight training."

Jake could hear the worry in your voice and he hated it. "I'll see you at 7 sharp, Princess." You tried to take the fear out of your voice so that he wouldn't worry about you being worried about him. "I'm counting down the seconds" you whispered into the phone as Nat made her way further into the kitchen to put on her running shoes. You both quietly hung up and you turned to face her.

"You ready?" You nodded and grabbed your light athletic jacket and you made sure that you had your gps on and your pepper spray. You and Nat stepped out onto your front porch and she locked the door behind you. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Phoenix asked you as she did some pre run stretches and you followed suit. You looked at her warily and let her know that Jake was picking you up at 7 tonight for a date. "Oohhh, the plot thickens, " she smirked at you.

"That's not until later tonight. I think that I'll look for a job or maybe I'll go back to school. I'm not sure yet what I want to do." Phoenix nodded and linked your arms together as you started to walk together towards the beach. "I'm really happy that you're planning a future here, I honestly wasn't sure if asking you to move here and uproot your entire existence was the right thing to do but I'm willing to help you figure everything out. "

"I appreciate you offering and for everything else that you have done for me. I should plan at least one trip back home to get the rest of my stuff out of storage and finalize the sale of the house." Phoenix lightly punched you on your shoulder and you looked over at her. "You know that you don't have to do everything on your own, right? I mean I'm all for being a strong independent woman but sometimes the adult thing to do is ask for help. Let me help you."

Your sister's words brought tears to your eyes and you were too choked up to speak so you just nodded yes and hugged her. "I love you, Y/N. You're my family and the squad already considers you one of us. There's no escaping it now." That made you laugh through your tears "only a crazy lady wouldn't want to be surrounded by hot U.S. Navy men and live near the ocean. "

That elicited a groan and an eyeroll from your sister who playfully kicked you in the butt. "I should have known that would have been the deal breaker for you. " You put your hands on your hips and started jogging down the path. "Catch me if you can," you called over your shoulder and kept up a steady pace. You two jogged in comfortable silence for a few miles and made it home just as the sun was rising.

Phoenix made sure that you got home safely and got her stuff ready for work and soon the house was quiet again. You made yourself a light breakfast of egg whites and avocado toast and took a quick shower. You threw your dirty clothes into the washer and changed into a pair of shorts and tank top. You found your laptop and fired it up, you were quickly burning through what little savings you had and you desperately needed a source of income. You refused to sponge off of your sister as you browsed the help wanted section.

In your previous life back home you were going to school for nursing and working part time when your world was turned upside down. You didn't want to go back to school so work it was, you emailed a few different places with your resume and hoped that someone would reach out to you soon. You cleaned up the kitchen and switched your laundry and decided that you would need something pretty to wear on your night out with Jake. You looked at the clock and saw that it was only a little bit past noon and you figured that it was as good as a time as any to text him and ask him where he was taking you so you could decide on an outfit. Standing in the middle of your room you shot him a quick text.

JAKE'S POV:

Jake was standing in line for lunch when his phone vibrated in his shorts pocket. His morning and afternoon consisted of a 5 mile run with Rooster, Bob, Payback, Coyote and Fanboy. A few laps around the track to cool down and then they hit the showers just in time for lunch in the mess hall. His blonde hair was still damp from the shower and he was starved. After lunch they'd be practicing evasive flight maneuvers.

He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out and saw that it was you asking for hints about how fancy should you dress up. He planned on taking you to the best steakhouse restaurant in San Diego. He fired off a quick text letting you know that he thought you would look stunning in a burlap sack. Two seconds later he got your response : not at all helpful, Seresin. Coyote was standing behind him and trying to look over Jake's shoulder to see who he was texting.

You had it narrowed down to a few different options and decided to send Jake some pictures and let him decide on which outfit was your best look. Unaware that Javy was still looking over Jake's shoulder he opened the picture messages and Coyote let out a wolf whistle. "Yo, who's the hottie sending you sexy pictures?!" Jake quickly put his phone back into his pocket but it was too late, the damage was done. All of the guys swarmed Jake trying to figure out who you were. Rooster and Phoenix walked in and saw the guys huddled around Jake.

"What's going on?" Phoenix asked and they all turned to look at her. Javy was the first to spill the beans, "Hangman has a hottie sending him sexy pictures and he won't share." If looks could kill there would be five mortally wounded men in the mess hall. Rooster glanced over at Phoenix and elbowed her in the side, "ain't that your sister, Y/N?" Phoenix slowly nodded her head and as she was walking towards them they at least had the common decency to scatter. "Before you attempt to rip me a new asshole she's not sending me nudes, she's asking for my opinion on outfits for our date tonight. "

That seemed to appease Phoenix as Jake showed her the pictures that you just sent him. "Tell her to go with the LBD and the black stilettos. " Jake quickly replied that he wanted to see you in that little black dress and sexy heels. With that decided the squad sat down and dug into their food. "What's on the agenda for after lunch?" Coyote asked Rooster. "We're going up in groups of four and practicing different counter strikes, basically the last two pilots flying are the winners. "

Hangman and Coyote fist bumped each other "Y'all might as well forfeit because you're looking at the winners right now. " That got a collective groan from the dagger squad as they made their way to their respective quarters to change into their flight suits. As they strode out onto the tarmac and waited for Maverick and the rest of the instructors to arrive Jake sent you one more text that he couldn't wait to see you tonight. Your reply was pretty much instantaneous: the feeling is completely mutual. See you soon 😉. The first four pilots got into their fighter jets and taxied down the runway.

Jake, Coyote, Phoenix and Bob were next. Everything was going according to plan, Hangman was in his element in the sky until he made a move to counteract Phoenix's attack and the sun was in his eyes and he didn't see the incoming flock of birds getting sucked into his plane's engine and everything started going haywire and he couldn't get it back under control. The next thing he knew was going into a spin and all of the fighter jets alarms started going off. "Pull up!" Coyote shouted at Jake as he struggled to bring it back under control. "I can't! All systems are in failure!! Eject!! Eject!! Eject!!"

Y/N POV

It was getting closer to 7 pm and Jake should be here any second now. You curled your hair and pulled it into a loose pony tail, you sprayed enough hair spray to put another hole in the ozone layer and once you were satisfied that not even a hurricane could move your hair you moved to put the finishing touches on your makeup. You went with a classic cat eye and fire engine red lipstick, you were spraying some perfume and getting your black clutch that matched your outfit and you heard the doorbell. You smiled as you grabbed a black leather jacket and made your way downstairs and opened the door expecting to see Jake but it was Maverick and Hondo instead. Your smile faltered and you felt your stomach sink.

"Hey Pete, Hondo. Is everything okay? Is Jake running late and he sent you to keep me preoccupied until he gets here?" Pete couldn't look at you and Hondo had his head down. Pete shook his head and cleared his throat, "I'm really sorry Y/N, earlier today we were flying flight maneuvers and patterns and there was an incident involving Hangman and Coyote. They lost contact with the control tower and ejected somewhere over the desert. Their GPS gave their last known location but it's not exact coordinates. Search and Rescue are out looking right now. "

You couldn't hear Pete but his lips were moving and Hondo looked to be on the verge of crying. You couldn't breathe, your chest felt tight and it hurt to inhale. Pete made a move to step inside your house and it all went silent. You must have dropped the stuff that you were holding but you didn't realize it. You tried to shove past them but they gently stopped you.

"No, I...we...he....had plans...." you weren't sure when you started crying but you were on the verge of hysterics and everything was happening at lightning speed while you felt like you were sinking in quicksand. Their words running through your head: Jake...Coyote....accident...desert....search and rescue. You couldn't focus, you couldn't breathe. You just knew that you couldn't sit here and wait for word if they were alive or dead. You must have made it to your room to change into jeans and a sweater.

It gets cold at night in the desert and you couldn't help but think are they hurt? Are they cold? Are they injured? Are they... no. Not possible. You wouldn't allow yourself to entertain the thought. You were frantically looking for a flashlight that you had somewhere and you found it under a pile of clothes, you saw Jake's brown bomber jacket and you grabbed that too. You ran down the stairs and grabbed your car keys sitting in the dish by the door.

Pete was chasing after you but you were quicker than him and Hondo. You got in your car and drove as fast as you could towards the base. "Shit, Hondo we have to get there before Y/N. She doesn't have the credentials to get on base and she's not thinking clearly. Text Phoenix and let her know that Y/N is headed that way. "

Hondo nodded and let Phoenix know that you knew what happened and were driving like a bat out of hell. The ride to the base was quiet and somber, Phoenix let them know that she was waiting for you at the gate. "Do you think that they're ok?" Pete took his eyes off the road for a split second and shook his head. "I honestly don't know, I really hope that they are. Y/N and Phoenix lost their parents not too long ago in a drunk driving accident. I don't think that Y/N would be able to recover losing someone who she cares about so soon after...."

You somehow made it to the base in record time without being pulled over for speeding. You barely put the car in park and jumped out leaving the keys in the ignition and the drivers side wide open. Pete and Hondo pulled in after you, "Y/N! Wait!" Their pleas fell on deaf ears and you barely recognized your sister standing at the entrance. "Natasha!! You were flying with him and Javy!! What happened?!" Pete parked your car in the visitors area and pocketed your keys and followed you onto the base and into a waiting vehicle designated to take you to the search and rescue site. "I'll fill you in on the way but you have to promise me that you'll stay out of the way and let the professionals do their job, promise me?"

You couldn't speak so you weakly nodded yes. Nat filled you in without going into to much detail. You felt stupid and weak for crying in front of your sister and her superiors but you didn't care. You couldn't lose Jake so soon after losing your parents. You made it to command central, military personnel and ATVs were scouring the desert.

Nat led you to the makeshift shelter that they had set up. It was at best controlled chaos and pandemonium. Radio chatter and flood lights overwhelmed your senses. You were numb and just standing under the white canvas tent staring into the inky darkness. You felt more than saw someone slip a wool blanket over your shoulders and hand you a cup of coffee.

You glanced over and saw that it was Rooster. He gave you a sad smile, you took the coffee into your ice cold hands and quietly thanked him. You took a sip and grimaced at the black bitterness but it was just what you needed. It was beginning to thaw out your hands and you were grateful. "We don't have to talk but just so you know I'm here for you. "

You were too overwhelmed with emotions to thank him but you hoped that he could tell you appreciated him and his efforts. Rooster led you over to a chair and you all about collapsed. Rooster sat next to you and ran his hand over your back in comfort. You had a million different questions and you wanted to ask but you thought it would be inconsiderate. You had a death grip on your coffee cup and your leg was bouncing wildly.

Rooster's big hand was on your leg trying to cease your jumpy movements. You put your hand over his and held on so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. There was a lull in the commotion and you could hear excited chatter throughout the crowd of military personnel. ".....found the wreckage ..... ejected....no sign of......bringing in trackers...."

Your head snapped up at the mention of trackers being brought in to help with the search. You looked at Rooster with hope in your tear stained eyes and he didn't have the heart to tell you that it wasn't always a good sign. He didn't have it in him to add to your heartbreak. "What does that mean? That's good, right? They walked away from the crash? They're still alive?!" Rooster silently pleaded with Maverick and he came and sat on your other side. "It's too early to tell but we should know something soon."

Dejected and overwhelmed with worry you felt a fresh set of tears forming behind your eyes. You were starting to succumb to exhaustion and fatigue. Your eyes drooping shut, you just decided to close your eyes and rest your head on Rooster's shoulder. Soon enough you let the comfort of darkness consume you completely with one last thought of Jake and Javy. Please let him come back to me.

~fin~

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