#so they could logically co-exist

[vigilskeep]

um calenhad aeducan lore. known fondly as prince cal by the people of orzammar and also me. he’s called that after the founder of the theirin line, because after ferelden successfully rebelled against orlesian rule, orzammar was like oh fuck we’ve got to repair that relationship as if we didn’t just sit by the whole time that was happening. so there were a bunch of these kind of uh diplomatic publicity stunts happening around the time he was born. and nothing about his life has ever not been someone else’s angle

his mother was one of endrin’s lesser concubines from a lower status house, and every jealous eye turned in her direction when she bore the king a son. despite that, endrin’s queen took her and the baby under her wing. it wasn’t entirely altruistic. the queen had no sons of her own, so cal could serve instead as her “contender” for heir against trian, the son of her long-time rival, a favoured concubine called lady rosdrada. the queen also happened to be a notable warrior, a powerful reaver, who died years later on a deep roads expedition under mildly suspicious circumstances, with many blaming lady rosdrada. (she was never publicly accused but neither did the king ever marry her and allow her to rise to the queen’s vacant place, a fact bitterly resented by her faction.)

cal’s mother, who returned the queen’s protection and favour with fierce loyalty, was first among rosdrada’s accusers. furious that punishment never came, she changed almost overnight from a shy, humble woman to a politician who could in her own right engage in the life or death battle for succession, raising her son to be the fulfilment of the late queen’s ambitions. he was trained since childhood in both the ways of princely charm and the ways of a reaver warrior, all to be the vengeance of a woman whose face he sometimes struggles to remember. perhaps there was a time, as boys, when he tried to be a brother to trian despite it all, but with his mother’s teachings always in his ears and trian less bearable each year, he’s long since accepted that deadly conflict between them is inevitable. he’s never eager to be the ruthless aeducan prince, but he’s always done his duty, however ugly. he never turns down the foul-tasting reaver concoctions, or quakes when he’s sent to the deep roads. he always defends his house’s honour and makes the point in blood. anything less is death; his mother tells him so

he doesn’t truly want the throne. he just wants more than anything to have the weight of expectations off his shoulders, and to no longer dread that his mother, his second, and all who support them will pay the deadly price of his failure. he’ll jump blindly at the chance to get this fight over with—and that’s all the opportunity bhelen ever needed

[danzainosolitude]

Why did they never elaborate on the fact that there are *presumably* human versions of all the characters in Japan

[euclydya]

💰

i think it's sooo fucked up how Rhetoric is just a giant centipede looking thing? like dude you're not even centipede-ing right the guy has arms for legs and too many torsos and I think a. stinger? like a scorpion one. and I'm like Hi! you sre so scary ♥ . also it's tall. everybody's so tall exceot for liej 2 other people .

anyways rhetoric likes to pick me ip by the scruff and im likw Screams. please put me down,

-Electrochem

[seiwas]

omg im scared my tags are gonna get cut out

were he not born to be a hero he must surely be born for this. <- I LOOOOVE THISS my GODD are u KIDDDDINGME i looooove that so much monty :(( how it ties back in to the start!!

and the way!! he uses what he learned on izuku. and izuku really DID burst into a million tears 🥺 poor guy probs needs it THE MOST WAAAH i loooove this lil interaction i am MUSH

and when he realises its different from touching you??? OHHHH. BOYYYYYY.

i love this monty thank u for writing this

STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

[kavehater]

Dahlia pulling me out of making dumb mistakes that could humiliate me >>>

[xxblairexxss]

Cookies!

Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader

Them : Angst, I think.

Word count : 2k

Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.

I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔

Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.

But you did.

There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.

Some even called you lucky.

A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.

But there were still ups and downs.

The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.

“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.

Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.

And so did Aaralyn.

Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.

“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”

You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”

“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.

“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.

She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”

“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”

“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.

“What kind of powder?”

“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.

••

Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.

“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.

“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.

The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.

“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.

“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.

You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.

“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.

“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.

You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.

“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.

“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.

“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.

Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”

“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”

You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.

“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.

“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.

Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.

“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.

“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.

Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.

“Daddy…?”

“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.

“It’s me, Alyn!”

“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.

Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.

Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.

“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.

“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”

“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.

Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”

Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.

“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.

“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”

“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.

“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.

“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.

“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”

Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.

You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.

“Come, baby,”

Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”

Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.

“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”

“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.

“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”

**

Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.

3:02

Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Untouched even.

“Honey?”

His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.

“Aaralyn. Honey?”

Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.

“Daddy’s

— Aarlyn ❤️”

••

You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.

As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.

Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.

“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.

“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.

“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.

“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”

“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.

“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.

“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.

“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”

[helluvapoison]

how would the overlords propose?

Say Yes

how the overlords would propose

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Romance isn’t an afterthought to her, as hard as that is to believe. Carmilla is a very passionate woman… it just comes after logic. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been put to the test much earlier on. (How you treat her daughters and how they like you is the most important part, if you didn’t pass you wouldn’t have made it this far)

By now she knows you’re worthy and she’ll bring you into her world permanently. Carmilla plans something intimate. She surprises you in her office for a candlelit dinner, courtesy of her private chef! She is a businesswoman first so she gets straight to the point and asks for your hand, literally, slipping the band into your finger.

“Marry me,” Carmilla says, uncharacteristically soft, “With you at my side, I will be complete.”

˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Telling himself there’s no rush, that he could wait a thousand more lifetimes to make you completely his, doesn’t cure the urgency to do it anyways. He’s seen any ounce of goodness down here nabbed before anyone else can take it for themselves. Zestial never claimed to be unselfish, only patient. He tests the question to himself first very early on. Then he phrases it differently to you or refers to himself as your husband to others. You mistake it for a slip up and smile anyways. A delightful sign in his eyes.

Zestial is pleased that you don’t suspect it. How could you when he’s merely being his usual, charming self? He takes you strolling down the same path you took when he first began courting you. Ever the gentleman, he pauses before the bridge over the river of magma and actually kneels.

“Would thou spend the rest of this infernal afterlife beside thyself? Say yes and I swear never to stray and never to allow harm to befall thee. Thou shall only know happiness from this moment on.”

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Love at first sight doesn’t exist so do not twist his words when he says he knew you belonged to him the moment you met. Feelings were bothersome and you flooded his entire being with them with a simple gaze. Lingering between the emotions was always pain, which he was familiar with. Unfortunately for him, the cure for his ailment was always you. Marriage was not in the cards for either of you. Alastor thought he had no intention of going through such hassle until he couldn’t stop staring at the vacant spot on your ring finger. Bothersome.

Truly you had no idea what he was plotting. It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you to his radio tower, going over notes with him or just quietly hanging about while he worked. He told you there would be a guest on his next show and he wanted to rehearse the questions. Simple enough. Before you even read the last one Alastor stopped you with a finger to the lips,

“Pardon my dear, you’ve been a wonderful co host— utterly indispensable these past few years— but that’s my line!” There’s a flicker of hesitation before his smile takes a slightly gentler form, a side of Alastor only you’re privy to, “Will you marry me?”

˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Since she was married a few times already, you thought Rosie would be over the whole thing by now. Well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried! She adores weddings, from organizing them to being in them; the whole shabang is right up her alley! There was a reason her ex husbands didn’t work out but you don’t have to worry about the whys and whatnots. You’re oh so very special to Rosie, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you!

The fact you think marriage is off the table has her giddy. She loves having the element of surprise! Cannibal’s left and right are in on the plot, making sure you’re exactly where you need to be all day long until you reach the town square at sunset. Crimson rose petals lead you to the gazebo where candles are lit all around your Radiant Rosie. She smiles so fondly at you it makes your knees weak as you climb the steps to reach her. She poured her love into two pages, prepared to make it her best speech ever but the second you were in front of her everything went out the window!

“Oh! I can’t wait another minute! Marry me, won’t you?”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ the vees might get their own part cause, i feel, they’re particular about marriage

[pumpacti0n]

We should always be aware that it isn't some innocent mistake that authoritarian "leftists" have constantly failed to acknowledge systems of power other than a vulgar "anti-capitalism" or "anti-imperialism", like they've carelessly left out an ingredient in a cake recipe.

"Whoops, we've acknowledged one abusive hierarchy, but the other ones slipped through our fingers, silly us!" Nope. The reason this analysis of power isn't included in their ideology and praxis is because they consider these hierarchies useful to their projects.

This is why they'll mock or ignore discourse related to youth liberation, disability justice, gender self-determination or anti-patriarchal struggle, for example, or engage in apologetics for capitalist regimes in other countries -- they want to "have their cake, and eat it too".

A key reason why "the left", as some might call it, is not as powerful as it could be isn't because of some lack of discipline (or "degeneracy"), but rather a lack of intersectionality, a criticism that many of those within the black radical tradition, (black feminists and transfeminists more specifically,) have been highlighting in one way or another for at least 50 years.

Authoritarian "leftists" don't want to sacrifice the power that these hierarchies afford them, which explains why they're largely not opposed to prisons, borders, police, the enforcement of gender roles and even capitalism itself, if it's under the purview of the "socialist" ("workers") state and its bureaucrats.

And this is why I keep putting "leftist" in quotes...We're not free until we're all free, so the implication that we should settle for addressing one or two systems of domination while allowing all the others to flourish until we address them in some vague point in the far future is a distortion of what truly radical liberatory politics should entail.

It's simply a myth that we can address capitalism while leaving racism, ableism and misogyny etc. intact, as if they aren't mutually reinforced by one another, as if fascists and reactionaries will forget that they exist once capital is abolished. This is a fantasy, a delusion.

Authcoms love to pose questions like "without a state to enforce class rule, how will the proletariat defend itself?" but a better question would be: "if we fail to acknowledge the hierarchies that atomize and disempower the masses, how could we ever be a threat to capitalists in the first place? how would abandoning the most vulnerable populations serve the interests of the "working class" and "anti-imperial" struggle?

For example, (cis) women make up approximately 50% of the world's population -- so if women are still subjugated by patriarchal rule and the gendered division of labor, how will we have the numbers to fight?

Similarly, a significant portion of the world's population are currently incarcerated. If we don't abolish prisons, allowing the State to continue extracting labor from prisoners and destabilizing untold millions of social relations in the process, how can we hope to match or exceed their powers?

If we do not challenge the capitalist, productivist logic of endless resource accumulation, with its constant pollution of the environment and the displacement and erasure of indigenous peoples and non-human animals, there will be no habitable planet left for us during this "revolution", because we will have destroyed all of it in the name of profit...so what would be the point?

These aren't minor concerns that we can put off indefinitely, and it isn't some innocent mistake that they are left out of the discourse, but are instead deliberate attempts to co-opt liberation struggle for the sake of advancing counter-revolution and authoritarian projects.

It's no wonder then, that they are eager to dismiss any criticism of their projects the result of "western propaganda", as if these same critiques aren't leveraged by very people belonging to populations they constantly tokenize whenever it suits their agenda.

They'd much rather treat every marginalized community as some monolith or as primitive victims in need of saving and representation by a vanguard. This chauvinist, colonial, assimilationist, antisocial attitude is endemic in (often white,) authoritarian circles, because it forms the basis of their position towards racial and gender hierarchies, that they are a natural and inevitable factor of organization itself. They are wrong.

In this sense, they aren't meaningfully different from the capitalists they pretend to hate so much. In truth, they are just jealous and greedy for more cake.

[spuffyfit]

!! DISCLAIMER, PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG ON ANYTHING, AND I’M MORE THAN OPEN TO DISCUSSIONS AND THINGS, BUT PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL !!

I’m not exactly sure where this realization came from but like

I listened to the first audio of Fred and Bright eyes a couple months back via a Google drive, and I genuinely don’t get why people hated Bright Eyes so much?? Like

Okay, they were walking around an abandoned amusement park at night and were nosy despite Fred telling them not to, but if we’re going by that logic Lovely and Darlin’ / Tank would also be bad people, right?

Darlin’ for lying to David and going out on their own to hunt Quinn down, And Lovely for doing the exact same thing Bright Eyes did, Walking around an abandoned amusement park at night! And yes, you could argue that if Fred & Bright weren’t there in the first place they wouldn’t have been attacked, but from my understanding if they were able to be turned via Sam, they were previously human and had no knowledge of supernatural creatures such as vampires existing due to co-vert and such!

Justice for fred and bright eyes, so sad I didn’t get to experience them firsthand

[badkitty3000]

It's A Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves

So, I got two asks today about Christmas stories:

**are you going to put your other Christmas story on here? Not trying to be pushy it's just easier to read them on here and I saw you linked others. I love your stories btw :⁠-⁠**

and

*I loved your Santa Five story. Would you be willing to do another like it? Something for the season? 🙏🙏🙏*

So, first of all, thank you so much to both of you! Wow! I was assuming the first ask was about this story? This is a multi-chapter one I wrote a year ago on AO3. It's a cross between It's A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol, with Five getting a visit from his guardian angel after he's not doing well without his powers in Reggie's new world, post-season 3 (written before season 4 came out). I will post it below.

In regards to the other ask, I won't be writing any new ones most likely this season, but I do have a couple other one-shots that were part of a series and that @kaybreezy3000, who is the co-author on them, and I are currently working on to make them into reader-inserts for tumblr. Those should be posted soon.

Thank you again and I hope you enjoy this sexy, sad, but sweet with a happy ending Five story! Have a wonderful holiday everyone! Cheers!

A Five x Female OC, 22k words, multi-chapter, cross-posted on AO3 from 2023

Warnings: Explicit sex, rough/angry sex, but also sweet sex, little bit of daddy kink

Chapter One: Candy

Number Five does not believe in God, or Heaven, or Religion as a whole. He knows what Klaus has told him, about the Void, and he knows he’s not lying. It’s just that Five is a man of science and logic, and he operates on proven theories and facts. He figures whenever he dies someday, if there is something to see, then and only then will he develop a belief system. He doesn’t really see the point in speculating about something that is inevitable anyway.

So, if someone were to tell him that guardian angels really existed, he’d laugh in their face. He’d ask for proof; solid evidence on which they could base this claim. And when they couldn’t produce any, he’d smirk in that knowing way, basking in the glow of always being right.

There was just one tiny flaw with not believing in the existence of angels, however, and that was the very real presence of the one currently lying naked in his bed.

🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️

The seedy bar was mostly empty, occupied by only a few sad and lonely patrons that had nowhere better to go. The lone bartender looked about as despondent as his customers as he mindlessly poured the cheap whiskey and beer that they asked for. A few strands of red and white lights hung over the bar, casting a reddish glow over the dirty countertop, and someone had set up a sparsely decorated tree in the corner. Somehow, those small attempts at cheeriness just made the place feel more depressing. The jukebox playing “Blue Christmas” for the third time in a row wasn’t helping, either.

Five sat in a booth near the back wall, the table in front of him wobbling periodically on its mismatched legs. He was on his fourth drink. Or maybe it was five. He had lost count and frankly didn’t care either way. He sat staring wistfully across the table, lost in his own dark thoughts.

Along with the number of drinks that he had consumed, somewhere along the line Five had also lost count of the number of years he’d been on the planet. He thought he was around 63, but then once you factor in all of the time travel, who knows exactly. Well, actually, he should know. He was the genius, or so he had thought. Calculating his age shouldn’t exactly be a brain buster. Whatever it was, he was still younger than he felt, which was about a million years old.

Not that it mattered, really. He was here now, in this timeline, with no powers and nothing much to show for all of the effort he’d put into trying to save the world. The world was still standing, he supposed, but how much of that was him and how much of it was Reginald?

Five years had passed since he and his siblings had been dumped into this fucked up, dystopian world created by his former adopted father. He refused to think of him as anything other than an alien in human skin that used them all as living batteries and abandoned them without powers. What a giant dick.

Having no idea where to go or what to do was bad enough, but to be suddenly without the power that had coursed through his body his entire life was a real fucking drag. It took Five at least six months before he stopped trying to blink away from things or teleport as a mode of transportation.

He’d narrowly missed getting run over by cars several times, and got his face beaten in more than once for running his mouth to the wrong people and then not having an exit strategy. He could still fight, but it was a lot harder without time and space manipulation on your side. Even now, every so often, he found himself staring down at his clenched fists in surprise when his body automatically tried to jump and nothing happened.

Not surprisingly, Five had found it difficult to adapt to normal life. Part of this was the years spent in isolation and not really having a good foundation for living a normal life in the first place. He had been told, on several occasions, that he lacked “basic social skills”, and was “surly” and “borderline psychotic”, whatever that meant. If people couldn’t deal with his attitude, so what? He wasn’t exactly dying to make new friends, thank you very much.

He and his brothers had managed to stick together, despite a rocky start. And as much as he hated to admit it, he did love them, even if they were astonishingly infantile and annoying. He no longer had a sister, or at least one that he acknowledged. Allison was off living her best life, probably laughing at all of them. But the rest of them, they were ok. And they were all Five had.

All things considered, the past five years had been decent to his siblings. They still struggled with having their powers stripped, just like Five did, but overall, they were doing much better than he was. Diego and Lila had started a new life together, and now had an almost five-year old daughter. The fact that the two dimmest people on the planet were responsible for another human life was astounding, but despite all odds his niece was actually a delight to be around and insanely smart. Luther had found Sloane, although it did take a couple of years. He never gave up hope, and eventually he found her, convinced her to fall in love with him again, and they were now married for a second time.

Viktor probably had the most successful turn-around out of all of them and had moved a few miles outside of the city where he had opened his own music school exclusively for trans kids. Five didn’t see him that much anymore, but they talked about once a week on the phone. As time went on, though, Five found they had less and less to talk about.

Klaus was still Klaus, albeit much happier. With no more ghosts tormenting him, he had found he had no reason to go back to hard drugs anymore. He still liked to grab an occasional drink with Five, but overall, he was sober and doing well. At least, Five assumed he was doing well. He actually had no idea what the hell he did for money, but he always seemed happy and well cared for. Maybe he had a sugar daddy or an old lady somewhere that took care of him. Five never asked and Klaus never volunteered.

Ben (the asshat version) was still around, but he kept his distance most of the time. He had tried to go crawling back to their dad at the over-the-top skyscraper that bore his name, but was quickly dismissed by security staff, saying that Reginald Hargreeves had no children. Ben had been obviously hurt and embarrassed, but since he never really considered himself part of the Umbrella family, he went off by himself. Occasionally he would check up on Sloane, though.

So, that left Five. There were only two things from his father that Five could say he was thankful for. One was that, on top of giving him his arm back, he had also added on a few years to his body when the universe was reset, so that Five had been 18 when they emerged into Oblivion Park. The other was that all of the siblings had found a bank card in their pockets, giving them access to individual bank accounts with a few thousand dollars in them, allowing them a chance to start a new life.

Five still lived in the small, crappy apartment he had found and rented back then. He could afford a better place now, but he didn’t see the point in moving. It was just himself there and anything with a roof over his head and simple furnishings still felt like a luxury. He didn’t have a job like the rest of his brothers, but he did have a steady income. Right from the start, he took half the money from Reginald and made investments that paid off nicely. The thought of working some dead-end office job at his age made him cringe, so he was perfectly happy to play the stock market from the comfort of his living room.

With no need for a car in the city, and no interest in a fancy apartment or house, Five had plenty of disposable income. Most of it was spent on his family, particularly his niece, who he liked to spoil as often as he could. He loved watching her face light up when he brought her a present and she was about the only person he would tolerate and enjoy hugs from. It made him happy to see her happy, with the added bonus of pissing Lila off by being her daughter’s favorite uncle.

The rest of his money went to his wardrobe. Afterall, what was the point in having a trim, young body again if you didn’t put in an effort to showcase it? Between his school boy Academy uniform, scrounging for clothes in the Apocalypse, and the drab Commission-issued suits he’d had to wear throughout his life, he was finally getting a choice in his style. And while that was a small victory in the scheme of things, his finely tailored and expensive suit collection was one of his only pleasures in life.

Five had tried to fix things, in the beginning. He had tried to figure out what Reginald’s end game was and how to take him down once and for all. Luther and Diego even got the taste for revenge, and for a while they were a small team. But after that first year, they determined it was fruitless. There was no way to get to Reggie, up there in his tower. He owned the city, literally. And without their powers, his forgotten children were no threat. Five never really gave up, though. He knew there had to be a way; he just couldn’t figure it out. Even now, it’s always there in the back of his mind.

With his family off living their lives as best they could, Five was alone. Which you would think he would have been used to by now, but this time seemed different. Five had gotten used to having his siblings around again. Even if they were obnoxious and had the collective IQ of a fruit fly. He had liked talking to them, and fighting alongside them again. He had even liked fighting with them again. After all, everything he had ever done was for them.

Five knew that he needed to open himself up more. It’s not like they didn’t try to have a closer relationship with him. But he remained closed off for the most part, often alone. He knew the reason, too. He was angry. Angry at Reginald for landing them there, angry at the Handler and The Commission, who had really screwed him over. Or maybe he screwed himself over, he still wasn’t sure how that worked. But most of all, he was angry with himself. And that anger was so big and so raw, that it was always threatening to burst out at any moment. So, it was just better that he kept to himself.

The same went for relationships outside of his family. They were constantly bothering him about dating or finding someone to settle down with. While they were all a little fucked up in the head, and maybe had some major daddy issues, Five knew he was different. He wasn’t blind to women, despite what his brothers thought. He’d even tried to date a few. But there was too much baggage, too many secrets. And that was not even including the mind/body age difference, which was a whole other complication to add to the mix.

Because of the constant turmoil inside, Five hadn’t let himself get close to anyone. The last few “relationships” he’d had were nothing but one-night stands that he’d barely remembered the next day. And even those left him feeling guilty and even worse than he had before. Because what would Dolores say if she knew?

He had worked so fucking hard for everything, and for what? One time when he was drunk, he had asked Klaus that same question. Klaus had told him that he had saved them; that he had technically achieved what he had wanted, just maybe not in the way he had envisioned. But Five had just laughed and poured another drink. They didn’t get it.

So, there he sat, alone on Christmas Eve, at a shit bar, drinking shit booze, and wondering what the fucking point was. He just couldn’t find a purpose anymore.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he groaned when he saw the caller ID, but he answered.

“Hi, Diego.”

“Hey, where are you? I thought you were going to come over for dinner tonight. Everyone is going to be here.”

“I can’t. I have plans,” Five answered dryly, his glass raised halfway to his mouth.

“Bullshit. You don’t have any plans, you just don’t want to come.”

“If you know that, then why did you ask?”

Diego sighed heavily on the other end and Five took another drink. Then he heard some shuffling and a small voice screamed into the phone, making Five wince and pull it away from his ear.

“Hi, Uncle Five! Are you coming over? Are you bringing me a present?”

“Grace!” Diego scolded. “Stop screaming into the phone, and also that’s not polite.”

The girl ignored her father and continued talking loudly with her mouth way too close to the phone.

“My mom said you’re being a grumpy twat. What’s a twat?”

Five couldn’t help smiling. “It means a really cool person.”

“Ohhh! Ok. Well, I hope you’re coming for dinner and I hope you’re going to come over and watch me open presents tomorrow morning, too. It’s Christmas tomorrow!”

“I know, Gracie, and I did get you a very nice present. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to be there tomorrow morning.”

“Why?”

“Because I might be doing something else.”

“Why?”

“Because I just am.”

“But why?”

Five ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Can you put your dad back on please?”

“Ok. DAD!”

Five pulled the phone away again before he went permanently deaf in that ear.

“Ok, here’s my dad. Hey dad, you’re a twat!”

Five laughed loudly, unlike his brother.

“What the fuck, Five? If we get a call from the school saying she’s calling the other kids twats I’m giving them your number.”

“Lila started it.”

“Jesus, you two. Anyway, are you coming over or not?”

“Not.”

“You’re kind of being an asshole.”

“This is not new information to you, Diego.”

“Fine. Well, Merry Christmas or whatever. Have fun drinking alone.”

“Thanks.”

They hung up and Five set his phone down, lifting his glass back up. He shook his head. “Fuck, I really am an asshole,” he muttered to himself.

As Five sat there, contemplating when he had become such a jerk, a waitress came over. He hadn’t noticed any waitress before, just the bartender. But she sidled up next to his table and he looked up.

“Can I get you something, handsome?”

Five blinked at her a few times. She was extremely pretty, with long, thick black hair, dark eyelashes and full, red lips. But that wasn’t the only thing that caught Five’s eye. She was dressed head to toe in what he could only describe as a slutty elf outfit. An extremely short, flared green skirt with red trim, and a tight red shirt that buttoned up the front. The neckline was so low and her tits were pushed up so high that Five was honestly perplexed at how she was keeping them from just spilling out altogether. The red headband in her hair was adorned with tiny bells that jingled anytime she moved her head. A brief vision of that headband jingling loudly as it banged against his headboard passed through his mind, but he was in no mood for company tonight. Not to mention, she was probably half his age.

The waitress smiled down at Five and spoke again after she received no response. “Did you want anything?”

Five looked back down at his half-full glass. “No, I’m all set.”

“Are you sure? There’s nothing you want that I can get for you?”

Five sighed, annoyed with her persistence, and flashed her his best fake smile. “Nope. All good.”

She pursed her lips and put a hand on her hip. “What are you doing here on Christmas Eve? You seem way too classy to be hanging out in this dump. Don’t you have a family to go home to?”

Five looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together in irritation. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have a family. I’m here to drink and be left alone.”

She nodded thoughtfully, then looked around the bar again. “It’s pretty slow tonight. Mind if I join you?”

“What part of alone did you not understand?”

Pretending like she either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, the girl shrugged her shoulders and plunked herself down in the chair across from Five, her headband jingling. He gritted his teeth together.

“If you don’t have a family, then who were you talking to just now?” she pried.

“Are you always this annoying to everyone, or am I just special?”

She shrugged again, unaffected by his insult. “I just overheard you talking and saying you didn’t want to go somewhere. Was that your family? Did they want you to come over for Christmas?”

Five slammed his glass down. “Jesus! Look, I don’t know what your angle is here, sweetheart, but I just want to be left alone. Go bother someone else.”

“I don’t have an angle. And my name’s not sweetheart. It’s Candy.” She extended her hand out to Five, which he promptly ignored.

“Candy?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s a little cliché, isn’t it? Even for made up names.”

“It’s not made up! That’s my real name. Candy.”

“So, what’s your last name, Cane?”

She laughed, moving her head so the bells jingled. It wasn’t a funny joke and Five wasn’t being nice to her, so he had no idea why the hell she was still sitting there with him and laughing, of all things. He looked down at his glass, which was now empty from when he sloshed it all over the table.

‘No, silly. We don’t have last names where I’m from,” she answered with a giggle.

Five chose not to address that odd statement. “Well, then, Candy , looks like I could use another drink after all. And since you apparently have no other customers at the moment, would you mind grabbing that for me?” Five picked up the empty glass, waving it in the air to demonstrate the emptiness as he smirked at the waitress.

She frowned. “Are you sure you need another drink?”

Five rolled his eyes. “You just asked me ten seconds ago if I wanted anything!”

“Maybe I wasn’t talking about a drink,” she smiled, leaning forward so that her ample cleavage was even more on display.

As aggravated as Five was by her, his eyes were still drawn to her chest. Because of the buzz he had going, too, his look wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. She noticed and ran her hand across her collarbone, drawing attention to the delicious looking divot between her clavicle and neck as she brushed her hair off her shoulder. He tried not to think about what it would be like to run his tongue across that very spot.

Five leaned back against the booth, his arm slung across the back of it. “Thanks, but no thanks. Not interested.”

Candy pulled back in shock, even though she was still smiling. “I find that a little hard to believe, but that’s ok. My feelings aren’t hurt. As much as I would love to get inside those tight pants of yours, I can take a hint.”

Five leaned in again, speaking through clenched teeth. “Then if you aren’t getting in my pants, and you aren’t going to bring me a drink, I think our little conversation here is done.”

For the first time since she’d wandered over, Candy looked a little bit at a loss of what to do. Then she smiled again and stood up. “Ok, one more drink, I’ll be right back.”

When she turned to walk away, she glanced down at the black suede ankle boots she had on. One of the laces had come undone and she bent over, directly in front of Five, not even trying to hide what she was doing. Underneath the miniscule skirt, were an even smaller pair of red and white panties, striped like a candy cane. They were cut in a way that showed off a good portion of her ass and Five found himself staring yet again. He was also very glad she was not looking at him right then, because as he was caught in the tractor beam that was her tight little rear end, he licked his lips and let out a puff of air.

“Damn,” he murmured, hopefully quietly enough that she didn’t pick up on it.

She righted herself and looked over her shoulder with a grin before she set off to get his drink. Just as Five was imagining a hypothetical scenario involving those panties and his teeth, she appeared in front of him again, fresh drink in hand. When she handed it over to him, Five paused.

“Where did you..how did you get over here so fast?”

She shrugged again, and Five found that just that small action of her shrugging was really starting to get on his nerves. In her hand was her own drink of some sort and she took a generous sip.

“I’m a really good waitress, I guess.”

“Huh.” Five eyed her curiously as he lifted the glass to his lips.

Without any invitation, Candy dropped herself onto Five’s lap, her legs swinging to the side. Five gave her what he intended to be a very murderous glare, but considering her perky round tits were right under his face, it didn’t have the same effect that it normally did. He kept his hands at his sides, not touching her in any way, but he also didn’t push her off. Because her skirt was so short, he knew that the only thing between her and his lap were those little striped panties. He could feel the warmth of her thighs seeping through onto his. She may have been annoying as fuck, but he still had a brain and a dick, and sometimes those two things got very confused about which one was in charge.

“So, if you’re not spending time with your family tonight, what are your plans?”

“To finish this drink, stagger home, and pass out in my bed. If I’m lucky, maybe I won’t wake up until Christmas is over,” he answered.

“Well, that sounds terrible. Why would you want that? Don’t you like Christmas?”

Five shifted in his seat, the irritating jingling of bells now closer to his ears. “I used to.”

Candy nodded with a small frown. Then she placed a hand on his chest. “Maybe I can help you like it again.”

Five lifted his eyes to hers, raising one eyebrow.

“I’ll let you roast your chestnuts over my open fire,” she purred with a grin.

He rolled his eyes. “Subtle. But, even after that cute show you put on for me a minute ago, and this little stunt you’re pulling right now, I’ll be going home alone this evening.”

She stuck out her bottom lip, shiny and wet with lip gloss and her drink. She traced one finger down the side of his neck and over the buttons of his white dress shirt. “That’s a shame. I was really hoping you’d have a special package for me to unwrap later.”

One side of Five’s mouth curled up and his jaw twitched as he took another drink, trying to decide how drunk he was and how much of a hassle it would be to get rid of this girl in the morning. He leaned in closer, placing a hand lightly on the small of her back.

“Sweetheart, I would shove my package down your chimney so hard and so deep, you’d still be feeling it by New Year’s. But that’s not going to happen tonight, I’m afraid.”

She laughed and then nodded, like she hadn’t expected him to say anything less. “I just thought maybe I could remind you how wonderful Christmas is. And maybe how to enjoy yourself a little more and stop closing yourself off to everyone.”

With narrowed eyes, Five lowered his glass that had been midway to his mouth. “What the hell are you talking about? You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know a lot about you, Number Five. And I know that your family loves you and they wish you could have a full and happy life.”

Five’s hand flew up and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her forward and squeezing it hard.

“How do you know my name?” he hissed in her face.

The girl only smiled again. “I’m your guardian angel, Five.”

He clamped down harder onto her wrist and roughly jerked her towards him again. “Cut the shit. Who are you? What do you want? Do you work for Reginald Hargreeves?”

She had the audacity to laugh, those fucking bells ringing again. “Of course I don’t work for your father. Like I told you, my name is Candy and I’m your guardian angel. And I’ve been sent here to make sure you know what a wonderful life you could have here, Five. If only you could let yourself.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, or what you want with me, but you have seriously underestimated what I could do to you right now.”

“Oooh, I would love to find out all the things you could do to me,” she said, still not trying to pull her arm away or move off his lap. “I bet you could really put me on the naughty list.”

“How about this? If you don’t get away from me right this second, I snap that pretty little neck of yours?” he growled, digging his fingers into her wrist.

Candy sighed, rolling her eyes skyward and talking out loud to the empty air above her, gesturing to Five with her hand that held her drink. “I know, I know…you warned me. This is going to be a tough one, like you said, but I still think he’s hot, though.”

Five shoved her roughly off his lap and stood up, pushing the table back with a loud screech. “Since you know all about me, then you should know what I’m capable of. So, keep that in mind; because if I ever see your face again, you’ll get to witness it firsthand. Now get out of my way.”

He shouldered past her, out of the bar, and into the cold night air. All around him, just like every other day and night for the past five years, he saw the glowing signs bearing his last name. He paused and took in the giant Hargreeves Enterprises building that loomed over the whole city. The first few snowflakes of the night had started to fall, landing in his hair and onto his eyelashes. With another look back at the bar, he hurried off down the sidewalk. His apartment wasn’t that close, and he had forgotten his coat inside the bar, but he didn’t care. He needed to walk and clear his head and try to figure out what the hell just happened back there.

Five knew the girl had to have been sent by someone. But who? And why? Maybe she was sent from another timeline, here to stop him from doing something that will affect the future. But she didn’t say that. She said she wanted to help him, which made no fucking sense. Then, to matters more fucked up, how the fuck did she know how he felt about things?

After a few more blocks, Five came to a bridge that spanned over a large river. He stopped halfway across, nearing the icy rail and peering down at the roiling and freezing water below. It was windy on the bridge, and he bent his head against the falling snow. He remembered how a year ago, he’d stood in that very same spot, looking down. He had been drunk and in a dark place, just like he was now. He hadn’t gone through with it then, and he wasn’t going to do it now, either. After everything he’d been through and survived, it seemed like a pretty stupid way to end things.

Five huffed out a short laugh, speaking into the empty dark night. “Guardian angel my ass. If that were true, where the fuck were you when I was wasting away in the Apocalypse? At least then I could have had something else to fuck besides my hand.”

“I was there with you, Five, but you didn’t need me then. You do now, though, and you’re much too hot to just be flinging that body of yours over the side of a bridge.”

Five pulled the gun he was carrying out from his waistband, spun around, and pressed the barrel into the side of the girl’s head, clicking off the safety. She gasped a little, but otherwise didn’t seem afraid. She had thrown on a red, faux fur coat over her skimpy outfit, but it remained open, blowing in the wind.

“Why are you following me?” he yelled, a little more frantically than he had intended.

“I don’t know how many times I can tell you, Five. I’m your guardian angel.”

“Forgetting for a moment that angels don’t exist; if they did, I highly doubt they would look like you.”

She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Why? What’s an angel supposed to look like?”

Five couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation. “I have no idea, but not someone that’s dressed like they just came from working the pole at Santa’s workshop.”

Candy actually laughed, despite the very loaded gun pointed directly at her head and the blatant insult he had just hurled at her. “Santa’s strip club? That’s good! Oh! I bet it would be called ‘The South Pole’.” Her eyes flitted down to where Five had pulled out his gun. “And I wouldn’t mind getting my tongue frozen to your pole.”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! God, you are annoying!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. But I’m very delightful once you get to know me.”

“I highly doubt that. I’m also not going to find out. Because, even though I could blow your brains out and throw your body into the river very easily right now, I’m not going to do that. So, I highly recommend that you walk away from me before I change my mind.”

“Oh, Five,” she said with a smile, running her hand down his arm. “You’re not going to hurt me. That’s not you.”

Five blanched at her words, lowering the gun. Even though he had liked the feeling of her warm hand on his arm, he shook her off and got in her face.

“I have killed more people than you could ever know,” he snarled.

“263.”

Five’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “What?”

“I do know how many and it’s 263.” She pointed up to the sky and shrugged her shoulders. “We keep track.”

Five didn’t know what to say to that. His heart began to race and his hand trembled as he shoved the gun back into his pants, trying to process the craziest thing this woman had said to him yet. She was right; he had kept track, too.

Chapter Two: Christmas Past

“Fuck.” 

When Five shivered against the cold, Candy opened up her coat, pulling it around his back as she stepped in closer to his side. “Here, let me warm you up.” She leaned in even closer and whispered next to his ear, her lips ghosting over his cheek. “You’re an amazing person, Number Five, and I want to show you that.”

“How?” Five’s voice came out soft, and he realized he was quickly losing his control of the situation.

Candy pressed her body into him, her arms circling his waist. When she kissed him, he didn’t try to pull away. Instead, he felt himself giving in to her and the heat of her hand as she touched the side of his face with her palm. The snow was still falling and landing over them both, but Five was no longer cold. The heat radiating off of her body was more than enough to warm them both. His eyes fell closed as he felt her pull away just slightly, her voice sounding both far away, and directly inside his head.

“Just relax, Five. Let me remind you.”

“Remind me of what?” he whispered, although he wasn’t sure he’d spoken out loud.

“When you were happy.”

Five’s vision started to fade; the snowy landscape around them shimmering like water. For a split second he thought he had his powers back. The sensation was the same. The same surge of energy through his veins, the pull of time and space on every molecule in his body. His heart raced with the possibility that his old self was back. But instead of appearing out of a portal, it was as if he stood still and his surroundings shifted into something new.

One second Five had been standing on a freezing bridge with Candy’s body pressed to his; and the next they were standing in the warm living room of the Hargreeves’ mansion. He was inside of his childhood home and Candy was holding his hand loosely in hers. None of this made sense and he looked to her for an answer. Instead of an actual explanation, she smiled cheerfully, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, and squeezed his hand.

“Just watch,” she chirped.

Five really had no other choice but to wait and watch, considering he had no idea what the fuck was going on. The main room of the mansion had been decorated for Christmas, with wreaths on every window, garland on the mantle above the fireplace, and a tastefully decorated tree in the corner. Looking up, he noticed that some of the trophy heads his father had collected had lights strung across their antlers and necks and he smiled. He actually remembered helping Ben string those up, with both of them wondering if they would get in trouble when Reginald saw. By some miracle, their father either didn’t care or didn’t notice, and the rest of their siblings had laughed and clapped when the oryx and wildebeest were suddenly illuminated with twinkling lights.

Five’s smile turned back into a frown when he realized how old that memory was. They had been around 8 years old then. How the hell was he seeing this now? Before he could question Candy, he heard the stampeding sound of multiple feet running down the hallway towards them, accompanied by loud shrieks of laughter. He watched in disbelief as the 8-year-old version of himself, along with the rest of his brothers and sister, came clamoring into the room.

Five immediately ran his hands over his face and down his arms, fully expecting his body to start sweating and itching like crazy. But he felt fine, and he didn’t feel the normal paranoia creeping in. Maybe it was the denial, though. He looked back at Candy, who was watching him, and she shook her head with a smile.

“Don’t worry. There’s no psychosis here. It’s more of a flashback or like watching a home movie. They’re real but they can’t see us.”

Five rolled his eyes. “So, we’re doing the Christmas Carol thing? How original,” he muttered.

Despite his suspicions of all of this, he went back to watching the scene in front of him. He remembered that exact Christmas Eve because it had always been his favorite. They were still too young to have officially formed the Umbrella Academy, and so life was a little freer than it would be in the coming years. Even though they fought sometimes, and formed alliances behind each other’s backs, that was all forgotten at Christmas time. Everyone was happy and getting along. Their mother brought in a tray of seven mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows and each kid excitedly grabbed one.

Five watched his younger self double over with laughter when Diego stuck a marshmallow up his nose and shot it into Luther’s mug. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that, and seeing it was both heartbreaking and uplifting. He smiled, wishing so badly he could step out of whatever bubble Candy had put them in and warn his little innocent self not to ruin his life on a whim just to prove a point.

“I remember this Christmas,” Five said to Candy, not taking his eyes off of his family. “Klaus and Allison had written a stupid play called ‘The Unhappy Christmas Tree’ and forced us all to be in it. We performed it for our mother and Pogo on Christmas morning.”

His supposed guardian angel laughed. “And what part did you play?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“The unhappy Christmas tree?”

Five nodded and chuckled. “I had absolutely refused to speak any lines or sing their dumb song, so they made me stand there covered in garland with a star on my head while the rest of them performed around me.”

“I bet you were an adorable little tree.”

“I don’t know about adorable. I was a pretty pissed off little tree, anyway.” Five sighed and shook his head. “Of course, you would have thought it was worthy of a Tony award based on our mother’s reaction. Not that that was real in any way, but it made Allison and Klaus feel good.”

“Did your father enjoy it?”

Five snorted with derision. “Fuck no. He never would have lowered himself to actually spend time with his children. No, I’m sure he was either out with his high-society crowd, or up in his office planning our eventual demise.”

They watched in silence for a few more minutes as his young family laughed and played. They really were a real family once upon a time, all seven of them together. Here was the proof. Ben was alive and Five hadn’t even thought of time travel yet. They even included Viktor in everything back then. Five’s chest tightened with the emotion of a lost childhood and he turned to Candy.

“Make it stop,” he told her, his voice cracking.

“But there’s more to see, don’t you want to—”

“Now,” he demanded harshly. “Stop doing whatever you’re doing.”

She looked sad, the smile that she always seemed to wear fading and she nodded her head slowly. The time travel sensation was back and gone just as quickly, and they were back on the bridge with the wind and snow whipping around them.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” Five yelled at her, yanking his hand away.

“I brought you back to a happy moment in your life. So you could remember what it used to feel like.”

Five wiped aggressively at his face, telling himself that it was wet from the snow, and stumbled backwards away from her. “Stay away from me, whoever or whatever you are!”

Candy raised her arms up and let them drop back down to her sides in frustration. “Five, please! I’m trying to help you.”

“Stay the fuck away from me! Understand? If I see you again, I will kill you!” he yelled into the wind.

He took a few more steps backwards, to make sure she wasn’t going to follow him, but she stayed where she was. Then he turned around and headed towards his apartment as fast as he could without breaking into a sprint.

Head down, Five pressed on for the few remaining blocks, not daring to look behind him. He didn’t know what had happened back there, or who that woman was, but he wanted no part of it. She probably drugged his drink at the bar and everything he had seen was a hallucination. That was the only logical explanation. Logic aside, it had still scared the shit out of him, and Five did not like being the scared one in any situation. He liked to be in control, and back there he had let himself lose control. All because she had pressed her body against his and kissed him.

So what if she was insanely hot, and had a nice ass and her tits were perfect? And so what if she was actually nice to him, even though he was being a dick to her? She was clearly insane. Even attractive people with amazing boobs could be insane, he reminded himself.

When he finally reached his apartment, Five hurried inside and shut and locked the door behind him. He stood shivering with his back against the door, breathing hard and flexing his frozen fingers to try and warm them up. He was still a little tipsy from the bar, but after what he’d just been through, he needed another drink. Striding over to his small, drab kitchen, he pulled out a glass, pouring a generous amount of bourbon, and tipping it back to swallow it in one gulp.

“Fuck,” he said out loud to no one, grimacing from the burn of the alcohol.

Before he could think what to do next, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, startling him back to reality. With a glance at the screen, he sighed heavily, but was actually grateful for someone else to talk to. If only to make sure he wasn’t completely losing his mind.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy, Cinco! We miss you buddy, where are you?”

Klaus was just about as loud as his niece had been, and Five found himself pulling the phone away again.

“I’m at home,” he answered flatly.

“Well, what the hell are you doing there? It’s Christmas Eve, Fivey!”

“I’m aware of the day.”

“Then why would you want to be alone? Come hang out with us. We miss you!”

Five’s heart tightened just a little on hearing that. He missed them, too. A little, anyway. But he stayed silent.

“You’re not still mad at me for spilling guacamole on your suit jacket that one time, are you? Because it really was an accident.”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closed his eyes. “No, Klaus, I am not mad about that. I just don’t want to come, ok?”

There was a pause. In the background, Five could hear the rest of his family being loud and obnoxious as always, with Lila’s voice carrying over all of them. “Klaus, don’t waste your time with that crabby old fart. Let him be miserable and alone. That’s clearly what he wants.”

“We’d really like you to be here,” Klaus said apologetically.

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

“Fivey, come on—”

“Really, Klaus, I’m fine. But as Lila said, don’t waste your time on me, because I’m not coming.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

Five huffed angrily and raised his voice. “Because maybe I just don’t want to spend Christmas with you people, ok?”

There was silence on the other end and Five immediately felt like shit. Klaus didn’t deserve that. None of them did. Why did he have to be such a stubborn asshole all of the time?

“Yeah, ok. Ten-four, big bro. Have a nice life.”

Five watched as the call went dead and he slammed his phone on the counter.

“Fuck,” he said quietly. But as usual, no one was around to hear it.

He was still wet and shivering from the snow, so after a quick check out the window and a glance at his locked door, he went into his bedroom to change. He just needed to go to bed and go to sleep, that was all. Whatever drug that girl put in his drink would wear off by tomorrow, and maybe then he could think straight. Then maybe he would go over to Diego’s in the morning and apologize; if he wasn’t too hung over, that is.

After pulling off his soaked shoes and socks and peeling off his shirt, Five was in the process of unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly when he heard it. Those fucking bells. He paused, his hands on his waistband as he listened with his heart pounding loudly in his ears. There was no fucking way he had actually heard that. He must be going crazy. But then he heard it again, and he gritted his teeth together.

When he stormed out of his bedroom, there she was. Standing in his kitchen, helping herself to his bourbon, and looking like she had every right to be there. Her red coat had been discarded in the living room, thrown onto a chair. Five also noticed she had thrown her boots off by the door. When she saw him, she smiled happily and raised her glass.

“This is good! I see why you like it.”

Five wanted to scream or yell or do something. Something other than what he did do, which was to stammer incoherently and run his hands so hard through his hair a few strands were pulled out.

“What the…how did you…god damn it! How the fuck are you here?”

He looked over at his door, which was still dead bolted from the inside. If he had been freaked out before, that was nothing to how he was feeling now. Candy, however, only tilted her head like she had no idea what he was talking about and took another sip of her drink.

“Angels don’t need to use doors, Five. I thought that was common knowledge.”

She shrugged her shoulders, drawing his attention to the smooth skin of her collarbone again. He really wished he could stop thinking about running his lips over that skin and wondering how it would taste. He did not want this girl here. He wanted her to leave him the fuck alone. He’d been very clear about that.

“Get. The fuck. Out,” he spit out between clenched teeth.

Candy ignored him and hoisted herself up onto the kitchen countertop, wiggling her sparkly red painted toes. Her skirt was riding up far enough that Five was able to get another glimpse at those red and white striped underwear of hers. She made no attempt to try and hide them and she looked Five up and down, only just then realizing he was standing there shirtless with his pants halfway undone. She raised her eyebrows.

“Damn, Five” she exhaled quietly. “You can deck my halls anytime.”

Five’s eyes darkened and he strode over to her, muscles dangerously flexed, and he grabbed her around the neck. Only inches from her face, he hissed menacingly as he pressed his fingers in harder.

“I told you I would kill you if I saw you again, didn’t I?”

Candy clasped onto his wrist, but she didn’t seem panicked at all. In fact, it looked like she was trying to smile.

“You’re not going to kill me, Five.”

He tightened his grip again and he heard a small gurgle in her throat.

“What makes you think I won’t?” he snarled.

“Because I think you’d rather do something else to me,” she breathed out.

Five’s chest was heaving and his teeth were bared as he stared her down, his fingers not loosening from around her slender neck. Up close like that, he could see down her shirt and he realized he was standing between her legs, with the inside of her thighs brushing against his hips.

“Is that really what you want?” he growled as he leaned in even closer. “You want to get fucked by some stranger on Christmas Eve? Right here, in this shit hole apartment?”

He saw a small twitch at the corner of her mouth and she inhaled as best she could while he was choking her. Five could feel the intense heat pulsing off her body again, just like when they were out in the snow. She looked him directly in the eyes and nodded.

The one ounce of resolve he had left in him to not let his lust for this woman take over in any way dissolved immediately with that nod.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself in between his heavy panting.

Her head was slammed back into the cupboards behind her as Five moved his hand to the back of her neck and kissed her brutally, his other hand sliding roughly up her skirt and onto her hip, where his fingers dug into her skin.

Five leaned down and sucked a dark bruise on to the delicious looking indentation next to her collarbone. He heard her hissing inhale from his teeth scraping against her and he let up, grabbing a handful of her hair.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, honey. Because I’m not the nice guy you think I am.” He kissed her roughly before pulling away again. One hand was still in her hair while his other traveled around the font of her skirt and he pressed his entire hand between her legs, pushing his palm hard against her until he heard her let out a little moan. “You are going to get fucked hard and rough, and I’m going to come inside of you because I don’t really give a shit about anything anymore.”

It hadn’t been a question; his drunk self just blurted it out there. He waited for her to tell him to drop dead, or to finally realize who she was dealing with and leave him alone for good. Instead, she reached down and pressed his hand in harder and smirked.

“It’s not nice to tease.”  

With a vicious smile that was more like a snarl, Five pressed his body into hers so that she could feel his hard on grinding into her thigh. He left more bruises over her neck as he eagerly bit and sucked at her skin.

“Get these fucking panties off.”

With one hand he yanked the tiny red and white striped underpants down, letting them fall to the floor while he started fingering her under her skirt. He watched with satisfaction as her eyelids fell closed and she tipped her head back with a low groan.

He wasn’t gentle with her, but she seemed to like it, and even in his inebriated state he knew what he was doing. Five pushed his groin into her again, rubbing himself against her while he stroked the soft, wet folds between her legs. She was starting to roll her hips into his hand, urging him on with the way she was panting, her chest heaving and her breasts pushed up against his chest.

When Five began finger fucking her, hard with two fingers, her moans came out louder and she thrust her hips into him.

“Ohhh…yes,” she whined, her hands clutching the edge of the countertop.

With another growling noise, Five pulled his hand away, leaving her gasping for air. He ripped open the front of her shirt, the buttons pulling apart and exposing her breasts. The bra she had on was striped just like her underwear. He pushed the shirt the rest of the way down her arms and let it fall off of her.

“Let’s see those tits you’ve been shoving in my face.”

Five reached around and unhooked her bra, throwing it on the ground. The sight of her perfectly round breasts displayed before him was too much and he let out a pathetic noise from deep down in his throat. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to fuck this girl and he needed to fuck her now. Candy watched, breathing hard, as he unzipped his pants the rest of the way.

“Fuck, Five…I knew you would have a big package to load into my sleigh.”

He was filled with nothing but rage and lust when he pulled her forcibly by her hips, shoving her skirt up around her waist. With one hand he began stroking his straining cock while the other grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back so she was forced to look at him. Her mouth gaped open and her rapid breaths were loud and rasping.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

She nodded as best she could with his fist in her hair. He shook her slightly and her head hit the cupboard again, the bells on her headband jingling.

“You haven’t shut up all fucking night, so don’t stop now, sweetheart. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” she whimpered quietly as one side of her mouth turned up in a half smile.

Five let go of her hair and positioned himself carefully, using his hand to slip the head of his cock inside of her. She sucked in a sharp gasp at the same time that Five sneered in her face.

“I am going to ruin you.”

The first hard thrust all of the way inside pushed her back and she cried out while grabbing onto his shoulders for support. Five had her hips and ass held tight in his hands as he began to pound into her hot, wet core. Candy’s headband continued to jangle pleasantly each time the back of her head hit the cupboard behind her.

“Fuuuck,” Five groaned out.

“Oh my god you’re good at this,” she moaned. “Keep fucking me like I’m your ho ho ho,” she added with a smile as her head bounced off the cupboard in time with each ‘ho’; those god damn bells ringing.

“Shut. Up.” Five panted. Then he reached up and grabbed her headband, flinging it across the room, the bells making one final, sad tinkling sound as they hit the linoleum. “Jesus, I hate that thing.”

Candy’s laugh was quickly cut off by another desperate moan as Five banged into her over and over again and she clutched at his shoulders. In contrast to his apparent anger and viciousness towards her, he couldn’t help pulling her closer. He liked her impossibly warm skin and the weight of her body on his. He began to kiss her mouth, hard and hungry, sucking at her lips and tasting her tongue on his. She was delicious, like her name, and he kept going back for more until he was clutching her against him and feeling the soft skin of her cheek under his palm and her firm tits pressed against his bare chest.

“Whatever you’re doing to me, stop it,” he begged her as his lips grazed over the corner of her mouth.

“It’s not me, this time. This is all you, daddy.”

“Oh, fuck…I like that,” he groaned into her neck.

“I know you do,” she smirked.

He was still drilling into her hard and fast, and Five could tell that he was doing something she liked because she finally shut the fuck up. The only sounds he heard were the slamming of his body into hers and her whines and cries that were getting louder and more pleading. Her fingers were digging into his skin and her head was thrown back.

“Yes…please,” she gasped in between more of his voracious kisses.

He felt her release against him as she clung to his body with her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands on his back. Her body seemed to give off a shimmering glow as she climaxed and she felt even warmer to the touch, her hot walls pulsing around his dick.

Five picked up his pace, slamming even more violently into her as he chased his own high. He felt like he wanted to break her, to crack her open with each thrust of his hips. He wasn’t even angry at her anymore, but she was the outlet for his chronic rage and he poured every ounce of it into her. It was unrelenting as he shamelessly used her as a way to get his rocks off and maybe a little relief from the constant ache of resentment he felt every day.

The aggression and ferocity kept building until finally Five couldn’t take it. He was barely aware of her existence anymore, just mindlessly penetrating her over and over again. His own orgasm came hard, and he did exactly what he said he was going to, coming inside of her with no warning. Sweating, shuddering, and with a final long, low grunt, he finished unloading into her and fell limply against her body.

“Damn it,” Five groaned sadly under his breath as he rested his forehead against his shitty cabinet door, her hair brushing against his cheek.

He was still breathing heavily, but he wasn’t pent up with rage anymore. He felt the inevitable shame washing over him like a thick, creeping fog. He had let his anger and fear get the best of him, and he had taken it out on her. When he felt Candy’s fingers threading lightly through his hair at the back of his neck, he flinched and drew back, pulling out of her and stepping away.

He immediately zipped his pants back up and pushed his hair off his face. He was having a hard time looking her in the eyes, but he watched as she hopped casually down from the counter to retrieve her bra and panties that had been thoughtlessly discarded on the floor. Once she had them back on again, she stepped closer to Five. He had no choice but to look at her.

“Wow,” she breathed out with a satisfied smile. Her eyebrows creased together when she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

Five wasn’t sure how to answer that question, considering it seemed pretty fucking obvious to him. He looked away from her again, turning back to the bottle of bourbon on the counter. With a shaky hand, he poured more into his empty glass. Then he felt her hand on his arm and he turned back around.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Five. I asked for something and you gave it to me. I know you were mad, but that’s ok. That’s what I’m here for. To make you feel better.”

“That’s what you’re here for? Jesus, what kind of fucked up thing is that to say?”

She sighed. “See, this is exactly why I needed to come down here. You think you’re this cold-hearted, uncaring person, but I’ve seen the real you. And you have so much love inside you, Five. You just need to figure out how to let people see it.”

Five turned his back on her, bracing his hands on the counter so that the muscles in his back tensed and flexed and he let out a short, sarcastic laugh.

“How can you even say that, after…” His voice trailed off, too ashamed to finish the sentence.

She placed a hand on his back. “Can I show you more?”

“More what?” he asked miserably.

“Well, even though one of my objectives tonight was to take a ride on your Polar Express, that wasn’t my main one.”

Five rolled his eyes at her stupid innuendo, but he also had to fight down the smile he felt creeping up. He turned to face her again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And now I suppose this is the point where you show me another vision or whatever it is and I come to some conclusion that life is just one big fucking ray of sunshine?”

Candy shrugged her bare shoulders, standing there in just her skirt and peppermint striped push-up bra. If Five had been in more of a romantic mood, he would have thought she looked adorable. Instead, he just rolled his eyes again, thankful that at least that fucking headband was gone.

She took another step towards him, prying one of his hands away and taking it in hers.

“Don’t you trust me?”

He shook his head slowly. “Not even a little.”

Chapter 3: I'll Stuff Your Stocking

With another soft smile, Candy placed her hand on the side of his face, just like she had done on the bridge. She leaned in to kiss him, so softly and sweetly that Five couldn’t stand how much he loved that feeling. Just like he had gotten lost in the sensation of kissing her while he roughly fucked her, he was losing himself again. He didn’t care about whatever it was she wanted to show him. He wanted to keep kissing her while her warm body was against his. There was something comforting about it and he let himself relax into her.

When he opened his eyes, he and Candy were fully dressed again, standing in another warmly lit home, with her hand clasped in his. He shook off the strangely familiar feeling of teleportation and glanced around. He knew exactly where they were and he let out a disappointed groan.

“Here?” he asked, turning to Candy with a pointedly annoyed look. “Ok, I get it. I’m a big jerk that everyone hates. Can we go now?”

Candy shook her head with a smile, and Five noticed the fucking bells were back on her head.

“Sorry, that’s not how it works.” When she saw his unamused face, she laughed. “Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just carry them out.”

Five reluctantly turned back to the scene before him. It was happening in real time, on that same night, and he watched his entire family as they gathered around Diego and Lila’s small but cozy living room.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and he felt Candy squeeze his hand.

“So, why isn’t Uncle Five here again?” Grace asked, as they all took seats and she sat on the floor surrounded by presents.

“He is just very busy, sweetie, that’s all,” Luther lied.

Diego and Lila exchanged eye rolls behind their daughter’s back.

"I’m sure you’ll see him soon. Now, why don’t you go ahead and open up the presents everyone brought for you?” Diego said.

Distracted by the presents from her other uncles, Grace started tearing into the paper while everyone watched. Five felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, knowing she was asking about him and he hadn’t even had the decency to show up.

He and Candy watched as the little girl opened each gift, and each time she held one up to show everyone, Five would scoff, growing increasingly agitated.

“Barbies? Please. She doesn’t even like dolls!”

“She already has Candy Land! I know because I bought it for her two years ago. She cheats, by the way.”

“Pink fuzzy bunny slippers. Ok, Klaus, you’re supposed to pick out things for her, not you. Gracie hates pink. She likes purple.”

Five was getting more and more worked up as Grace continued to open her ill-thought-out gifts. He was gesturing wildly to the scene in front of them and looking over to Candy in disbelief.

“Oh for fucks sa—are you seeing this? Dr. Seuss books? Her reading level is much too advanced for those.”

Candy stood silently next to Five, watching his reactions with her usual smile. Grace finished opening her presents and thanked and hugged everyone politely. But Five could see she was secretly disappointed.

Candy finally piped up. “Too bad you aren’t there to give her your gift. You seem to know her the best.”

Five huffed. “Well, it’s not that hard to figure out what a kid likes. All you have to do is pay attention once in a while. Dumbasses.”

“What did you get her again?”

Five hesitated. “A telescope. I told her how I used to look at the stars every night when it was just me and Dolores and she said she wanted me to show her. I was going to take her outside of the city so we could see them better.”

Candy nodded. “When were you planning on doing that? Before or after your very busy plans of getting black-out drunk all by yourself?”

Five’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. What could he possibly say? She was right. He had no excuse as to why he wasn’t there with his family and doting on his niece like he loved to do. Only that he was a selfish asshole.

“Alright, so are we done here?”

Candy shrugged, and Five noticed the bruises he had left on her neck and chest were gone. “That’s up to you. Have you seen enough?”

Five turned back to his family. Grace had already slipped away from the group of adults, leaving her new gifts on the floor untouched. He was about to tell Candy that he had seen enough, when he realized his siblings were talking about him.

“…couldn’t take ten minutes out of his busy schedule of tossing off to mannequin catalogs to hang out with his family?”

Five flipped Lila off, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“I don’t know, I feel bad for him. He’s been through a lot.”

Surprisingly, Luther was defending him. Then Klaus spoke up.

“I know, but haven’t we all? And we’ve somehow managed to get on with life.”

“Yeah, but we have each other. He doesn’t have anyone,” Diego added.

Lila snorted. “Well, he could have if he tried even a little bit. It’s like he loves being a miserable little shit.”

“I do want him to be happy, though,” said Viktor.

Klaus sighed and nodded. “Yeah, me too. It’s just too bad he can’t let himself. I’m not sure the old man even knows how anymore.”

After that, the subject switched to something else and Five was left standing there with a dull ache throbbing in his chest.

“That’s enough,” he said quietly to Candy.

She nodded and took his hand again. The room started to shimmer and then disappear altogether. In a second, they were back in Five’s apartment. Candy was back to wearing nothing but her skirt and bra, her red headband lying on the floor where Five had so rudely flung it. Five was wearing just his pants, which only brought back the shame he had been feeling earlier. Shame heaped on top of shame.

“I thought you said you were supposed to make me feel better.”

“I am!”

“Well, then you’re terrible at your job because I feel shittier than before. Maybe you need to go back and take a guardian angel refresher course.”

Candy laughed. Because of course she would. “I’m sorry, Five, really. But can’t you see how your family just wants you to be happy? And little Grace…she loves you so much.”

Five nodded and leaned against his kitchen counter, hands braced behind him. “Yeah, I heard. And that’s great. But I just don’t know –” his voice trailed off and he looked away from her.

“What?”

“I don’t know how.”

“To be happy?”

Five nodded.

“Five, everyone has the ability to be happy. Some people just have to work for it a little bit more than others. But I have no doubt in my mind that you could be if you just tried.”

Five flung his hands up in frustration. “You keep saying that! How can I try to be happy? That makes no sense. You either are or you aren’t. It’s not like I can wake up in the morning and say ‘Gee, I think I’ll be happy today!’”

“Actually, that’s exactly what you can do.”

Five sighed angrily, but stayed quiet. She obviously didn’t know what she was talking about, and was the world’s worst guardian angel. Amazing body; terrible angel.

“What do you think Dolores would say?”

Eyes flashing and jaw set, he glared at Candy. “Don’t talk about Dolores,” he warned.

“I’m just saying, maybe if you listened to her –”

“STOP! RIGHT NOW!” he shouted, his voice loud enough to make ripples in the bottle of bourbon next to him.

Candy put her hands on her hips, tipping her head back and exhaling loudly. A piece of her dark hair floated upwards from her exasperated breath. With her head back like that, Five could see the love bites he’d left on her neck, renewing his guilt.

“Wow, you are making my job difficult,” she spoke out loud, to him and to whoever else was listening above.

When she looked back at him, her normal smile returned and she let her arms relax at her sides.

“Ok, how about this? You take some time to reflect on things, while I go take a much needed nap in your bed.”

“A nap? Now?”

“Yes. You are very exhausting,” she huffed. Then she smiled and winked at him, reaching out to run a hand down his arm. “In more ways than one.”

As she sauntered past him, towards his bedroom, Five continued to stand in one spot, thoroughly confused. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she’d trip him up again. He had shouted at her, insulted her, and angrily banged her into his yellow, Formica countertop. And what had she done? Nothing. Nothing but continue to be sweet, and encouraging, and sexy. Damn, she was sexy. But why was she still here? He just didn’t understand.

After a few minutes, Five wandered over to his bedroom doorway. Candy was under the covers, lying on her stomach with her head on his pillow, on the side of the bed he normally reserved for himself. He tried not to let that little fact irritate him, though. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing soft and rhythmically.

"Why are you here?” Five asked out loud.

Candy opened her eyes slowly and smiled when she saw him standing there.

“What do you mean? You know why I’m here.”

“I mean, why are you still here? I’ve been awful to you. I threatened to kill you, I screamed at you. Nothing I’ve done has been nice. And you’re still here. Why?”

She propped her head up on one hand. “Those things don’t bother me.”

Five took a few steps into his room, closer to the bed. “They don’t bother you? How?”

“Because I told you, Five. I know you. The real you. And I know you don’t mean any of those things. I’m not scared of you.”

As he was mulling that over, he came and sat on the opposite side of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

He looked at her, lying there in his bed, looking serene and peaceful despite everything that had happened. “Really, Candy, I am sorry. I’ve treated you like crap and you don’t deserve that. Even if I still think you’re a lunatic.”

She laughed and nodded her head. “It’s ok.”

With another, longer look at her, the sheet hanging loosely over her, he realized something. “Are you naked?”

Candy giggled and nodded. “All guardian angels sleep naked. We generate a lot of heat, so it’s much more comfortable that way.”

Five blinked a few times and swallowed. Apparently being sorry for treating someone like shit did not deter instant boners when that someone was a beautiful woman lying naked in your bed. He shifted, pulling at the crotch of his pants.

"I guess it’s a good thing that I got you as my angel instead of a 300lb hairy man.”

“Ah, that would be Todd. I actually fought him for this job. So, you’re welcome.”

Five wasn’t entirely sure if she was kidding or not, but then she laughed at his confused face, which made him smile in return. He still sat there on the edge of the bed.

“So, are you going to keep me company under these covers, or do you want to just sit there in your uncomfortably tight pants?”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

She nodded.

With a grin, Five stood up and shed his pants while Candy looked him over with an approving smile. He slid into bed, close to her so that he could run a hand gently down her back and over her tight butt. She was still lying on her stomach and she wriggled under his touch.

“What, no clever Christmas-themed sexual innuendo, this time?” he teased.

“I can’t think of any good ones right now.”

“Hmmm…” Five leaned in close, his hand resting on the small of her back. “How about I stuff your stocking and give you some of my special eggnog?”

Candy burst out laughing, burying her face in the pillow, before looking back at his smirking face. “I knew you were funny! See, you just need to loosen up a little.”

He looked thoughtful as he continued to trace soft lines down her shoulders and back with his fingertips. When he pushed her long hair off to the side, he saw what he hadn’t been able to before. Two angel wing tattoos, intricately drawn on each of her shoulder blades. He let out a soft laugh as he touched each one lightly.

“So, what did you have to do to earn these?”

“Nothing. Standard issue.”

“I thought guardian angels were supposed to do something special to earn their wings. You know, like every time a bell rings…”

She shook her head with a smile. “Nope. That’s just in the movies. We all have them. This is just my Earth version. My real wings would look a little too obvious down here.”

He looked at her dubiously, with one eyebrow raised. “Then what do you get if you successfully turn me into a believer?”

“I get to stay.”

“Stay where?”

“Here. On Earth.”

He let out a loud, short laugh. “Why in the hell would you want to stay here?”

She shrugged. “I like it here. You have the ocean, and the sun. Rain, trees, snow, buildings, cars, people. Oh! And the food! It’s all so wonderful!”

Now Five really thought she was bat-shit crazy, but he didn’t comment. She continued.

“It’s an incredibly difficult wish to have granted, though. That’s why they gave me you. Or rather, I chose you.”

“And why is that? What’s so special about me?”

Candy smiled coyly, shifting her body over so that she was pressing Five back into the mattress by his shoulders. She climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and letting the covers fall off of her.

“Because you, Five Hargreeves…” she rocked her hips into him and he groaned. “…are a very hard man to please.” She rubbed herself against him again, sliding her wet heat over his cock.

Five grabbed her hips and she straightened herself, allowing him to see her fully naked body on top of him. He let out a stuttering breath.

“Well, I’m pretty fucking pleased right now. Does this count?”

She shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun in the meantime.”

After reaching up to cup each breast, rubbing his thumb over her stiff nipples and watching her throw her head back, Five ran his hands slowly down her sides. He loved the softness of her skin and the curves of her body; the intense heat that got stronger with her arousal. He desperately wanted to feel himself inside of her again, but without all of the anger and malice that he had projected onto her the last time.

“If you kiss me, will you make me see things again?”

“No. Not this time.”

Five nodded. “Then kiss me,” he whispered. "Please."

When she leaned over him, she paused for just a moment, an inch from his mouth, and then her lips met his as he closed his eyes. His hand caressed the side of her face and his fingers found their way into her long hair. This time there was no anger or violence; no screaming urge to drive her away or control her. He just wanted to keep kissing her, to touch her hot skin, and feel the weight of her body on top of his. He hadn’t realized it before, but it felt so good with her naked body pressed to his. There was something comforting about it. And he was so rarely comforted.

Five wasn’t sure when she had adjusted herself so that his cock was sliding inside of her again, but her hips were moving in a steady rhythm against his, her sex so hot and wet that he was positive he’d never felt anything so amazing in his entire life.

She moved her mouth to the side of his neck, still slowly riding him, as he breathed loudly into the sweet scent of her hair.

“Five,” she whined, drawing his name out as her lips brushed across his skin.

“Oh, fuck…” He knew he had a tendency for arrogance, but he never realized just how much he loved hearing his name moaned next to his ear while he was being fucked. But he could say for absolute certainty now that he would not get tired of hearing it.

His hands were on her hips again, urging her to ride him faster and harder, all while her chest remained flush with his. Their soft kisses had turned into hungry ones, and Five latched onto the creamy skin next to her collarbone again, sucking another purple mark onto it.

“I want to give you what you want. Just tell me,” he panted, his breath hot on her already flaming skin.

“I need you in deeper, Five. I want more of you.”

“Sit up.”

Candy took the direction, pulling herself away from Five’s mouth and neck, and sat up, sinking deeper down onto his cock. Five’s strong hands pushed her down further, harder, and he thrust his hips up to meet hers.

“Oh fuck yes !” she yelled, letting him roughly guide her body.

Grasping hands; fingers digging into hot, damp skin; the sound of the bed slamming into the wall, and her desperate moans and cries were mixing together into one erotic symphony as Five drove into her again and again. It was the most blissful experience he’d ever had. He couldn’t even remember why he was so angry towards her earlier. Oh right, she claimed to be a celestial being, wouldn’t shut up, and broke into his apartment. Well, right now he didn’t care about any of that. Right now, he watched her amazingly tight body rock back and forth on top of him, his dick buried deep inside her.

“You feel so goddamn good right now. Maybe you’re my guardian angel after all.”

She let out a breathy laugh and bit her bottom lip as she continued to ride him.

“That’s another reason I want to stay here…fuuck…the sex here is…oh god, yes, do more of that…amazing…ah shit, Five!”

With a long wail of pleasure, Candy tipped her head back, mouth open, as she came undone. Five watched her face, lost in ecstasy; took in her body that was writhing and shuddering on top of his; felt her tight cunt pulsing around him. The arrogant, asshole part of him that lived inside his brain was practically gloating over the fact that he was the one responsible for all of it, too. And, fuck, if that wasn’t the final push he needed to be filling her up with his cum again, groaning through a clenched jaw as he pressed his fingers further into her flesh.

Afterwards, they laid there in silence, Candy’s head next to his on the pillow as she smiled over at him and let out a contented sigh, stretching her body out long like a cat warming itself in a sunbeam. Five laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, a million thoughts running through his head. That old feeling of guilt was creeping back in again.

“I really am sorry,” he said quietly. “For earlier.”

“And I already said it’s ok.”

He tapped his fingers on his bare chest, as one of the many nagging thoughts in his brain surfaced again. “Candy, how old are you?”

She let out a giggle that she quickly suppressed. “Are you worried that you’ve taken advantage of an impressionable, young woman that’s half your age?”

Five looked over in surprise, and then remembered that she seemed to know everything about him. Even things no one should know. So, of course, she would know his true age.

“That’s a bit of a concern of mine, yes.”

“Well, if anyone is taking advantage of anyone in this scenario it’s me with you.”

“How so?”

“We don’t really have years like they do down here, but if I were to guess, I’d probably be around 390.”

Five raised his eyebrows at her and let out a disbelieving laugh. “390 years old.”

Candy stretched out languidly again, showing off her body that could not have been more than 22 years old by the looks of it. After a yawn, she nodded. “Yep. I’m the ultimate cougar, aren’t I?” She laughed at her own joke.

With a shake of his head, Five let out a soft sigh. He was not even sure why he bothered. Every time she answered one of his questions, it only created more. In the matter of a few hours, he had gone through about every emotion in his inventory, and he still didn’t understand what was going on. Just a couple of hours earlier, he had threatened to kill this woman. He had held a loaded gun to her head. And now, here she was, lying naked next to him in his bed, as comfortable as could be. The even weirder part was that Five felt comfortable, too. He had no panicky urge to kick her out with some lame excuse; no sudden need to get up and shower, remaining aloof until she left on her own.

He liked her. He thought. Or maybe she drugged him again, who the fuck knows? Whatever was going on was strange, to say the least. He looked back over at her, and she had fallen asleep. If this little game of visions they were playing was going to continue, then that meant there would be one more. The future, he supposed. He laughed quietly to himself. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

He laid there for a while, thinking, and watching her sleep. He wasn’t tired, though, so eventually, after covering her gently with a blanket, he slipped out of bed. In the bathroom, he washed his face and looked in the mirror. He thought about what Candy had said. “What would Dolores say?” Well, he thought, what would she say? If he wanted to depress himself even more, he’d realize he could literally ask her right then. She was there, staring him in the face as he looked at his reflection. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the love of his life had been just a branch of his subconscious. Created for the sole purpose of not going completely insane. Five wasn’t sure that had worked entirely, though. Just look at him now.

“She’d say you’re being an asshole.” He spoke out loud to the mirror. “She’d tell you to stop being a whiny cry baby all the time and try to be grateful for once.” Five ran a hand down his face. “She’d tell you to stop drinking so much. And maybe be nice to people. Even if they are idiots. And to stop closing yourself off to your family.”

He sighed. Then he looked down at the chipped porcelain sink and smiled to himself.

“As usual, my darling, you are right about everything.”

As Candy slept, Five sat in the dark of his apartment, in his underwear, and thought. He had poured himself another bourbon, more out of habit than anything else, but then thought better of it and dumped it down the sink. He’d had more than enough to drink that night. So, he’d chosen water instead, and sat in the worn armchair in his living room, staring out at the skyline.

He normally hated looking out that window. When he had moved in, he had asked if they had anything on the ground floor, but the only availability was on the sixth. So, every day he had to stare out into the world that he supposed he was partially responsible for creating. In the very far distance, he could make out the obnoxious search lights that circled the night sky from the roof of his father’s skyscraper. He would listen to the sounds of the police sirens wailing continually, the constant roar of choppers overhead as they completed their nightly rounds. Each one of the vehicles were emblazoned with his father’s HE logo, since he owned the law, too. Most nights he would slam the blinds down so he wouldn’t have to look at it.

But Five was tired of being angry and resentful. He was tired of being a miserable, crabby old fart, as Lila had said. He was exhausted, actually. So, maybe it was time to take Candy and Dolores’ advice and move on. Be grateful for the things he did have. Be happy for once.

Chapter 4: White Christmas

Five was still sitting there an hour later when Candy came strolling in from the bedroom. She had thrown on one of Five’s white t-shirts, with it barely covering the striped panties she had put back on. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, and Five could make out the faint outline of her nipples through the material. When she walked over to him, she smiled and sat down in his lap, putting an arm around his shoulder.

“What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Just thinking,” he mused, while looking her delicious looking body up and down.

“Good, you need to think. Thanks for letting me sleep, though.”

Five’s hand immediately began stroking her bare legs and not-so-subtly trying to grind up onto her tight little butt.

“I guess that means you have more energy now?” His hand crept up higher, onto her hip. “Why don't you let me do something about that.”

He gave her a playful nip to her neck and she giggled. He was starting to like that sound. Better than the bells, anyway.

“That is very tempting, and I can tell, or rather feel , that you are ready for another round of ‘Hide the Yule Log’, but we can’t do that just yet.”

Five frowned. “You can’t expect me to behave when you come in wearing nothing but my t-shirt and drop into my lap like this.”

She laughed. “I know, I’m rotten. I do like seeing you squirm, though.”

Five would rather be squirming into her underpants, but considering his earlier transgressions, he decided to behave. That didn’t mean he had to stop running his hand up and down her smooth thigh, though.

“You’re going to make me see things again, aren’t you?”

Candy nodded. “It’s time.”

“Please don’t make me do this again.”

His voice had come out soft and the words caught in his throat. He looked away out of embarrassment.

“Why not?”

“Because if you’re going to show me the future, I’d rather not see it.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m scared,” he croaked out. “I don’t exactly have a good track record with seeing future events. Or future versions of myself, for that matter.”

She smiled sadly, but nodded, tracing her fingers lightly over his lips. “I know, but it’s ok. You need to see it.”

“I don’t need to. I get it. I’m an old, ungrateful bastard that needs to let people in more and live a happier life. See? I don’t need this part. I figured it out already.”

“That’s not really how this works,” Candy argued.

Five let out a frustrated groan. “Who cares? I learned my lesson, end of story. Now, why don’t you give me my shirt back and we can do something much more fun.”

He leaned in to kiss her and she held him back with a hand on his chest, shaking her head.

“Later. Right now, I need to show you.”

Five inhaled a deep breath and swallowed hard, giving her a small nod of assent. “Ok.”

Another soft kiss, another pulling sensation over his body. When Five looked up, they were back in Diego and Lila’s living room. It was the same house, but things were different. Different furniture, wall paint, and light fixtures. He was about to ask Candy if she screwed up, but then there were voices and his brother and Lila entered the room.

They had aged, that much was clear. By how many years Five wasn’t sure, but there were deep wrinkles in their foreheads and around their eyes. Diego’s hair had streaks of gray running through it.

“We don’t have to invite him, you know. It’s not required.”

Diego sighed and put his hands on his hips, addressing Lila. “He’s my brother. We kind of do.”

“Well, by that logic, do you want to send off an invitation to good old Reggie, too? Just because he’s your adopted brother, doesn’t mean you owe him anything. Besides, do you even know if the little shit stain is still alive? We haven’t seen him in like, what? At least three years.”

Five balked at that. They hadn’t seen him in three years? How was that possible?

There was another long sigh from Diego and he shook his head. “I guess I just assume he is. The old bastard is hard to kill.”

Lila crossed her arms and looked at him in the pointed way that hadn’t changed in so many years. “And do you really want another incident like Grace’s college graduation?”

“No, of course not. But maybe he’s changed; maybe he’s better now.”

“Diego!” Lila threw her arms up and looked at him in disbelief. “The man showed up hammered drunk, interrupted the commencement speaker to yell at them about how wrong they were, and then proceeded to upchuck in the parking lot in front of all of Grace's friends! I highly doubt he’s just miraculously better now.”

Diego nodded in agreement.

“And it’s not like that’s the only time. Remember that Thanksgiving when she was in high school? He drank all the wine and passed out on the floor in the living room? All in front of her boyfriend? She was so embarrassed.” Lila’s voice softened and she put a hand on Diego’s arm. “You tried your best. We all did. But you can’t change someone that doesn’t want to be changed.”

“You’re right. It’s probably for the best that we don't invite him. I wouldn’t want anything horrible like that to happen at her wedding. Besides, I don’t think she will want him there, either.”

Five’s insides were churning and the tightening sensation in his chest was making it hard to breathe. He looked over at Candy, who was watching him with a pitying look on her face.

“This can’t be real. I would never do those things. Ever! Especially not to Grace.”

Candy shook her head sadly. “I know you don’t think you would. But it’s a slippery slope from where you are now.”

Five shook his head, refusing to believe it. There was no way he’d ever let himself stoop so low. Would he? And they weren’t even going to invite him to Grace’s wedding? He clutched at his stomach.

“No. There’s no way. This did not happen.”

“But it has happened. This is the future. Unless you do something to change it.”

Five was silent for a moment, taking that in. “Lila said they weren’t sure I was still alive.” He turned to Candy again. “Am I?”

“Well, see for yourself.”

There was more shimmering around them, the living room fading away as it was replaced with a different scene. As it came into view, Five could see that it was his apartment. Or, at least a version of his apartment. It looked like many years had gone by and it had fallen into disrepair. The paint was peeling on the walls, the window looked like it had been broken at one point and was now half-hidden behind some plastic held up with duct tape. The kitchen was falling apart, with cabinet doors hanging crooked on their hinges, and the faucet dripping continually into the old, stainless-steel sink.

The television was on, tuned to some news station. The anchor was talking about the upcoming New Year’s Eve gala that was held every year inside Reginald Hargreeves’ tower. Only the very elite of the city were invited, of course, but that’s not what Five was focusing on. It was the date. He was looking twenty years into the future.

If that were true, that meant he’d been living in the same shit hole for two decades? And it really was a shit hole now. The place looked like it should be condemned.

Just as Five was about to question Candy, there was a groaning sound coming from the beat up couch in front of the tv. A figure slowly hoisted themselves up and ran a hand through their graying hair. He couldn’t see his face, but Five was pretty sure he knew who it was.

“Shut the fuck up! Fucking Hargreeves bullshit.”

Five watched as his older self grumbled out loud at the tv, standing up to turn in their direction. His heart sank. How many times was he going to have to face his future self? Of all the versions so far, however, this one might have been the worst. He should have only been in his early forties, but he looked about eighty. Even his 100-year-old self had looked marginally better.

With thinning hair and a prematurely aged face that looked like it hadn’t been shaved in several days, the older version stumbled into the kitchen, scrounging in the cupboards. Five noticed that his clothes were wrinkled and stained, like he’d been wearing them for days at a time. In fact, he looked like he hadn’t showered in about that long, too. His expensive clothes that he was normally proud of were now thread bare; his dress shirt looking more yellow than white.

Once he finally found the bottle of cheap whiskey he had been searching for, his older self poured a large glass and then wandered back to the couch again.

Five looked to Candy, his face horror-struck. “This can’t be…how could I live like this?”

“It’s pretty sad, isn’t it?”

Five nodded guiltily. The other version was mumbling out loud to himself and Five listened to his own voice croaking out of the pile of detritus that was his older body.

“Yes, I know what you said, but this is the last one for the night, I swear.” There was a pause. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. This is only my second one.” Another pause and a heavy sigh. “Alright, Dolores. Whatever you say.”

Holy shit. He was back to talking to Dolores? And he didn’t even have a solid, mannequin version of her to at least give some realness to it. He was just mumbling to himself; like a crazy person.

Five closed his eyes and shook his head like he was trying to erase this vision from his memory, but of course that didn’t work, and he turned to Candy, his eyes wide with fright.

“Stop it. Please, I can’t stand this. This can’t be me. Change it back,” he pleaded.

“I can’t do that, Five. Only you can change it.”

“Fine. I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry for all the ways I’ve fucked up over the years, and all of the horrible things I’ve done. I’m sorry!”

She shook her head, the bells on her headband jangling sadly. “I know you’re sorry. But that’s not enough to change things.”

“Well then what the fuck! I…I can’t let this happen. It’s such a…”

“What, Five?”

Five’s eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. “A fucking waste of a life! After everything I have done. I did not spend 45 years in a fucking wasteland to save my family and the world, just to end up as a sad, old drunk all alone. I worked too hard for it to end like this. Why didn’t I appreciate what I had? Why did I pull away from my family?” He shook his head. “No, this is not going to happen. I refuse to go out like this. I have to make it right. Starting now, I’m going to make this right.”

Candy smiled warmly and pulled him in close. She kissed his cheek and put her arms around his shoulders. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

When they were back in Five’s apartment, even though it looked the same as usual and in better shape than the future version, he still couldn’t help but cringe. He needed to find a new place, and soon, that was for certain.

Candy was not on his lap anymore, but sitting across from him in another chair. She was still wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, but Five wasn’t really focused on that at the moment. She leaned forward, her forearms resting on her legs.

“Please tell me we’re done. That was horrible and I never want to see that again,” Five begged.

“You won’t have to. As long as you change and don’t let yourself become that version.”

He nodded and exhaled a long and shaky breath. “I won’t. I’m going to stop being such a prick and start living my life.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to forget everything he’d seen, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still the middle of the night. Too early, or late, to really do anything now. But first thing in the morning, Christmas morning, he was going to start making things right. Five looked back to Candy.

“Even though I hated all of that, you helped me see what I really needed to see. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Does this mean you believe in guardian angels now?”

Five narrowed his eyes, a smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. “I guess I have to, don’t I? I have no other explanation.”

Candy laughed and clapped her hands together, then pumped her fists in the air. “Yes! Ha! I knew I could make you believe!”

Five laughed along with her, that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach starting to fade away. Then he quieted again and looked at her thoughtfully.

“So, does this mean you’re leaving now? Now that your job is done?”

She shrugged, and Five found he didn’t find that little mannerism nearly as annoying as he used to.  “Yes, eventually. But I don’t have to leave this very minute.” She smiled and spread her legs just enough so that Five could get a glimpse of the red and white stripes between them. “Why? Have something in mind?”

“Well, I figured I have a few more hours before I have to start being a better person. Might as well make the most of it.”

Candy stood up and crossed over, plopping herself in his lap again, making sure to wiggle her butt over just the right spot to get him hard again.

“And just what naughty thing were you thinking?”

Five smiled slyly. “It is after midnight; technically Christmas.” He leaned in to kiss her neck, not hard like before, but gently; trailing his lips over her hot skin, teasing, until he heard her make a little sighing noise and she shifted in his lap, rubbing against the growing tent in his boxers. His hand crept back up her leg and onto her hip, where he slipped one finger into the waistband of her underwear. “And since you’re sitting here on my lap, grinding your cute little ass into my crotch, why don’t you go ahead and tell Daddy what you want?”

Her breath hitching in her throat, Candy closed her eyes for a moment, teeth digging into her bottom lip before looking back at him, her breasts rising and falling with each labored breath. She grazed a finger down his neck and over his chest.

“Will you give me anything I want?” she purred with a smile.

“Anything.”

“Then I want you to bend me over…” she kissed his lips softly, “…grab my hips…” another kiss, “…spread me open…” one bite under his jaw, “…and give me a White Christmas, Daddy .” With the last word she pressed into him harder.

“Jesus Chri—” he started to moan, but he was cut off.

She was kissing him. Slow and deep, lacing her fingers through his hair while he swallowed each whimper and moan she breathed into his mouth. Five couldn’t stop his hands roaming over her body, her skin like hot silk under his fingers. Every part of her was a piece of heaven, maybe even literally, and he wanted to commit every curve to memory. She was still kissing him when he stood, picking her up with him, and carried her into his bedroom. When he placed her on his bed, she immediately yanked his stolen t-shirt over her head, propping herself on her elbows and displaying her flawless breasts.

After removing his own underwear, Five climbed onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. Leaning over her, his hands on either side of her and holding himself up, she was forced onto her back.

“I’m going to give you what you asked for, sweetheart, don’t worry. But first, I need to get a taste of this stunning body of yours. See if you live up to your name.”

He leaned in, like he was going to kiss her, stopping just before their lips met, and then he pulled away again. Flashing an overly-confident smirk, he moved south, massaging each breast and taking turns with each side; licking and sucking at each perfect nipple. Five could have spent an entire day just worshiping those soft mounds of flesh. He’d always considered himself a titty man. Tits and ass; that was his thing. As long as a woman had a nice rack and a tight ass, Five didn’t really care what else was going on with them. And fuck, did Candy have a nice one of each.

After a particularly hard bite onto her sensitive nipple, Candy gave a small shriek, but that only spurred Five on further. His bites got harder and he sucked at her skin until he left more marks all over her chest. With each one, though, her back would arch off the bed and she’d push her hips up into him.

“Five…” she pleaded softly.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ll get there. But these gorgeous tits are just too good to ignore.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair as he continued to blissfully torture her. “Please, just…I want your partridge in my pear tree!”

Five rolled his eyes and ignored her remark.

Candy hissed sharply as his teeth dragged across an already bruising mark. “Load up my one-horse open sleigh.”

He resisted the urge to laugh, and instead gave her a hard pinch on her already abused nipple.

“Ah!” she cried, digging her nails into his scalp. “But I need you! Stuff my Christmas turkey, frost my gingerbread house, eat my fruitcake, mmmph!”

Five clapped a hand over her mouth and raised himself up so he could look down on her face, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. He could feel her smiling beneath his palm.

“Candy?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up.”

After she nodded, he released his hand, and thankfully she did shut up for once. He knelt in front of her again, frowning as he started pulling her panties down her hips.

“And don’t ever wear these again. They just create more work for me.”

He shoved them the rest of the way off and flung them over his shoulder with a scowl as she laughed. Five took a moment to appreciate the fact that this amazingly stunning woman was stretched out before him, completely naked, and waiting for him to fuck her. She was dying for it, too. Chest heaving and hips twitching, it was a small miracle that Five wasn’t shoving his dick into her already. But he really did want to know what the rest of her tasted like.

When he ran his tongue up her wet slit, she thrusted up so hard that he had to forcefully hold her hips down so he wouldn’t get bucked off.

“Oh shit!” she cried out, her hands clutching the sheets underneath her as her head flung back. “Five, oh my god, that’s –”

She was cut off by her own high-pitched whine as Five sucked at her folds and her clit, using his tongue to penetrate her and hungrily lap up the slick wetness that was running out of her. He didn’t have much experience in eating anyone out, since most of his one-night stands got right down to the fucking with not much time for foreplay. Even though he was making it up as he went along, it seemed to be working in his favor, judging by the sounds she was making and the strength it took for him to hold her writhing body down.

When he felt her getting close; when she was panting loudly and moaning his name, he started drawing it out longer. He slowed down his pace, no longer devouring her, but licking languidly at her hole and pausing to kiss her inner thighs. He smiled when he heard the disappointed groan.

“Five…”

He stopped altogether and raised his head to look at her, one eyebrow raised and a crooked smile on his wet and shiny lips.

“Yeah?”

She exhaled loudly and tried to buck up into him again, but he was still holding her down. “Damn it…don’t stop now!”

“Why? Did you like that?”

“Fuck…Five, please.” Her desperate whine was on the verge of turning into an all out sob.

“Well, since you asked nicely.”

It didn’t take long after he was back on her before her moans turned into loud screams and her back was arching off the bed again. Five worked her into more and more of a frenzy as he felt her pulsing against him, coming against his mouth and soaking the sheets underneath them. He had started grinding himself into the mattress as his own arousal peaked, and Five was very afraid of blowing his load with his dick not even touching her.

He sat up and looked at her lying there with her hair in a mess around her, her chest flushed pink and littered with his bites and bruises, gasping for air from the intense orgasm that he gave her. Holy fuck, he needed to come.

Five moved up, straddling her waist as he clutched his straining dick in his hands.

“I want to fuck your tits,” he breathed out desperately.

Candy nodded eagerly and Five positioned himself so that his cock nestled in the valley of her cleavage and she pushed her breasts together, sheathing him in her warm skin.

“Oh fuck, yes,” he groaned out.

Straddling her chest, Five started thrusting hard and fast, all while he looked down so he didn’t miss out on the pornographic visual. His dick was so hard that the leaked pre-cum that was dripping steadily out smeared over his shaft and between her tits. Candy was massaging and squeezing them around him, running her thumbs over her nipples as he rutted into her. She was so soft and tight at the same time, and the feeling was so fucking good. So much better than when he used to try and use Dolores in the same manner. Back then, he’d had to envision a real live woman beneath him, but now it was very real and he was going to lose it in about ten seconds.

Not wanting to risk it by coming in her face, Five backed off, slipping out of her. Still kneeling over her, he grasped his rock-hard dick and jerked himself vigorously. He tipped his head back with a groan while he worked his fist over himself faster and faster until he was just on the precipice.

“Fuck, I’m going to come on you,” he groaned, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

He gave her the White Christmas she had asked for, painting her perfect tits with ropes of cum, covering her until it was sliding down her sides and onto the bed. Five continued to work himself over, each spasm seeming to create another spurt of semen that was strewn across her chest. When he was finally spent, he let go of himself and climbed off of her, flopping on his back in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Holy shit,” he murmured between ragged breaths.

After a minute, he looked over at Candy, who had propped herself up on her elbows and was watching him. The sight of her covered in his dripping load was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and if he had a few more minutes, he could probably use that image to get hard again. But that wouldn’t be very nice to leave her like that, and even he wasn’t that much of a selfish asshole.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

When he returned with a washcloth, Five helped to clean her up.

“Sorry. I guess I didn’t really ask if that was ok.”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s ok. I like when you take charge.”

Five gave her a sexy smirk, but then it faltered with the realization that she was probably going to leave him soon.

“Do you have to go now?”

Candy hesitated, but then she shook her head. “Not quite yet. I can stay for a little longer…if that’s what you want.”

Five nodded, then pulled her into him, trapping her in his arms, her back flush with his chest as they laid side by side. Candy wiggled in closer and pressed her ass against him.

“Stay as long as you can, ok?” he whispered.

She squeezed his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Ok.”

With his free hand, he traced his fingers down her side and over her hip and thigh. She let out a soft sigh and relaxed into his chest. Five kissed her neck and her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You already thanked me.”

“This time I mean for everything. Thank you for making me see what I couldn’t before. But also, thank you for just being here. I didn’t realize how lonely I had become.”

“You’re welcome. And…I wish I could stay.”

He gave her another kiss to her neck and she closed her eyes. “Why can’t you?”

“There are rules. And I have to go back.”

“Will you ever come back?”

“If everything goes the way I want, then yes.”

Five pushed his groin that was already starting to harden again, into her firm backside. Candy let out a tiny moan and pushed back.

“Then I hope you find me,” he said softly against her skin.

“I think it would be very hard to stay away from you.”

He could feel her skin getting warmer again, and he moved so that his cock slid between her legs, brushing against her folds that were already wet for him.

His mouth sucked another mark onto the nape of her neck as he lowered his voice and his hand slid down to squeeze the inside of her thigh. “Do you want me again?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. She pressed backwards, slick running down her inner thighs and wetting his dick as he rubbed between them.

“God, I could keep fucking you all day,” he groaned.

“Just fuck me for as long as we have.”

With a deep growl, Five pulled her hard against him, as she lifted her leg and rested it on top of his. He inhaled sharply when she reached back and grabbed his cock, guiding it into her dripping cunt and thrusting backwards so that his full length was completely inside of her.

“Five,” she moaned sweetly as he rocked into her.

He kept up the slow pace, pulling at her hip and kissing any area of exposed skin that he could reach. He had wanted to hold himself back; to draw it out as long as possible. He had wanted to drink in the scent of her hair and trail his mouth over her soft skin. But then she moaned his name again.

Digging his fingers into her hip, he hissed next to her ear.

“Be a good girl and let Daddy fuck you hard, ok sweetheart?”

With the shamelessly loud groan that she released as her back arched against him, he really didn’t need an answer, but he waited for one anyway.

“Fuck yes. Give it to me.”

Five pulled out and roughly flipped her over so that she was on her stomach and he positioned himself behind her. Grabbing her hips and jerking them backwards, he lined up with her entrance again and shoved himself inside of her. With teeth clenched and jaw set, he got to work. Banging into her ferociously, his hips slapping against her as he railed into her as hard as he could. He didn’t need to feel guilty. She wanted it like this, and he wasn’t doing it out of rage. Anger wasn’t driving him this time, just pure animalistic lust and feral instinct.

He continued pounding into her and they were both lost in their own highs. Candy was moaning loudly, begging for more and clutching at the sheets underneath her. Five was grunting through gritted teeth with the effort he was putting in to fucking her; fueled even more by the hypnotic visual of her angel wing tattoos flexing and twisting as she braced herself against his powerful thrusts. After a few minutes, it was clear that neither one of them were going to be able to take much more.

With another long whine, Candy reached down to rub her clit while Five slammed into her. He could feel her hand every time he thrust forward and his balls slapped against it.

“Five…I can’t…I’m going to come!”

“Go ahead, baby. Come on my dick while you touch yourself.”

“Oh fuuuck, Five!”

When he heard her scream, he came with a loud growl, holding her flush to his body as he pumped one more load inside of her. He could feel her contracting around him as his hips stuttered against her backside. Candy’s legs were shaking and Five pulled out so she could lie down flat, her hair covering her face as she sucked air into her lungs. He sat back on his knees and gave her a playful slap on the ass before lying down next to her.

As they both laid there, trying to steady their breathing, a few minutes passed in silence. Then Five heard her giggle under her curtain of hair. When he pushed it out of the way, she was grinning up at him

“When I think about you, I touch my elf. ”

Five shook his head with a smile. “Have I told you how annoying you are?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then he flipped her hair over her face so she was hidden again. “There. Much better.”

Chapter 5: It's A Wonderful Life

In the early morning hours, Five finally drifted off, warm and content, with his arm flung across Candy’s stomach. She never let him know before she left, but in the morning when he woke, there was no sign of her. He didn’t know why he was surprised; he knew she wasn’t going to stay for much longer. But when he walked into the living room of his apartment, there was no red coat. No black boots by the door. And, most notably, no red headband. All evidence of her existence was gone. All except for the lingering scent of her hair on his pillow and one tiny bell that he found on the kitchen floor and slipped into his dresser drawer.

He was sad she was gone, but not in a way that felt permanent or oppressive. She had shown him there was a lot more to live for, and it needed to start with himself. He didn’t need her with him to make the changes he needed to.

It was still early, but he knew Grace would have woken up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, so he was sure Diego and Lila were up. The rest of his family would probably sleep in a little but then they would be over at their house again, too.

After a shower, Five changed and grabbed the wrapped present he had for Grace on the way out. He stopped by a bakery that happened to be open that morning, and then caught a cab to Diego’s. When he knocked on the door at 7am, he tried not to laugh when his brother opened the door. Diego was still in his bathrobe, looking disheveled and sleep deprived, a cup of coffee in his hands. But the look on his face when he saw Five standing there was priceless. He actually poked his head out of the door and looked around him, as if there might be some kind of prank being played on him and there were cameras around to film his reaction.

“Five, what are you doing here? Are you still drunk from last night?”

“No! I’m here to watch Grace open her presents. And to hang out with you guys, too, if you’ll let me.”

Diego frowned like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was hearing. He looked Five up and down, taking in his clean-cut appearance, and coming to the conclusion that he must not have come directly from a bar.

“So, can I come in, or do you want me to stand out here all day freezing my nuts off?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah…sure, come on in. Grace and Lila are in the living room.”

He stepped aside to let Five in, still not completely believing what he was seeing. After a moment though, he smiled and clapped Five on the back.

“I’m glad you’re here. We missed you yesterday.”

Five nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I won’t miss any more family things from now on.”

Five handed off the box of pastries he had picked up and headed into the room where Lila and Grace were gathered around the Christmas tree. When Grace saw her uncle, she let out a little screech and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his waist in a big hug.

“Uncle Five! I knew you would come! My mom said you weren’t going to, but I knew you would!”

Five laughed, then he looked at Lila who was staring at him with the same expression Diego had given him.

“Merry Christmas, Lila,” Five said with as much of a smile as he could manage, and only a hint of snark. He could learn to be nice, but he still had his limits.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said slowly, her eyebrows creased together in confusion.

Five didn’t even respond when he heard her add “wanker” under her breath.

“Is that my present?” Grace asked when she eyed the large box that Five was holding.

“It is. Do you want to open it? I think you’ll like it.”

She nodded and sat on the floor as Five handed it to her and then joined Diego on the couch. They watched as the little girl ripped open the paper and gasped.

“A real telescope?!”

Five nodded, smiling. “Yep. Now we can go look at the stars together.”

Grace looked up at him with her little chubby face and wide, dark eyes. Then she jumped up from the floor and ran to Five, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you! I love it so much!” As Five hugged her back, Grace pecked his cheek with a kiss. “This is my favorite present and you’re my favorite person.”

Five grinned and gave her a kiss on the top of her head “You’re my favorite person, too, Gracie.”

As she returned to the telescope and busied herself with getting it out of the box, Five heard Diego sniffing next to him. Lila groaned.

“Oh my god, are you crying , Diego?”

“No! I’m not crying. It’s just…dry in here…and I have allergies…and I’m probably getting a cold.”

“Uh-huh. Ok, babe. Sure.” She rolled her eyes, but she was obviously just as happy as he was.

Diego turned to Five. “So, what happened? You just suddenly changed your mind, got your shit together, and decided to be a decent human being? Overnight?”

Five shrugged, reminding himself of Candy’s annoying habit. “Without going into the boring details, yes, that’s what happened. And I apologize for not being around more. But that’s going to change. I’m going to change.”

Diego raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. “Wow. I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’m happy. Like, really happy.” He grinned widely at Five. “I’ve missed you, buddy. We all have.”

“Speak for yourself!” Lila exclaimed from across the room.

Five turned towards her. “You know, Lila, you should really think about letting go of some of your anger. Try to be a little bit happier, sometimes.” As she looked at him like he was deranged, he mouthed “Fuck you” to her over Grace’s head. Lila just shook her head and smiled, glad to see that it wasn’t the end of the world after all.

Five stayed at the house for the rest of the morning. His other siblings trickled in, as well, and it eventually turned into another official Hargreeves’ family party. Seeing that their notoriously high-strung and unhinged brother was suddenly acting like a mostly sane person, they were obviously concerned. But after they realized he wasn’t going to suddenly snap or turn into a pod person, they all loosened up a little.

Klaus sidled up to him at one point, offering him a freshly made glass of Lila’s famously strong Christmas punch. Five waved him off, though.

“No, thanks. I’m not drinking today.”

“Uh, ex-squeeze me? Did you just turn down a drink? You know it has alcohol in it, right?”

Five laughed, a little embarrassed, and put his hands in his pockets. “I know. Just trying to turn over a new leaf.”

“Ohh…I get it. You met a girl, didn’t you?”

Five looked up at him in surprise. “Why would you say that?”

Klaus took a drink from his glass and grimaced at the strong mixture. “You hanging out with us, not drinking, being nice …it reeks of new girlfriend.”

“Huh. Well, in a way, yes. I mean, not a girlfriend, but there was a girl.”

“You should have brought her! I’d love to see what kind of woman managed to snag my darling, murderous brother.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible at the moment. But maybe someday. Stranger things have happened.”

🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽❤️🪽

“Gracie, honey, we’ve been here for thirty minutes. Pick a book, already.”

The little girl sighed and looked down at her pile on the children’s table where she and Five were seated. One of them comfortably so, the other scrunched up with his knees to his chest.

“But I can’t decide.”

“I told you, pick as many as you want.”

“Yes, but I want to make sure they’re the right ones. What if I get home and I change my mind?”

Five rolled his eyes and shifted in the tiny plastic chair. “Then I’ll return them. Or you can throw them out, I don’t care. My ass is falling asleep.”

Grace gave her uncle a disapproving look. “That’s a bad word.”

“Yes, it is. But if you don’t pick your books in the next five minutes, I’m going to say a lot of bad words.”

She sighed again, as if this was the most difficult decision in the world.

Five and Grace had spent the day together, just like they had once a month for the past six months. It was now July. July 3rd, to be exact, and they had opted for indoor activities to escape the oppressive heat of the city. Earlier, they had gone to the movie theater where Five sat through one of those horrible movies where they take real animals and CGI them into playing sports like soccer or basketball. Oh, and the animals talked, too. Completely asinine. It was ninety minutes of torture and Five wanted to stab his eyeballs out with Grace’s lemonade straw, but she giggled through the whole thing so he deemed it worth it in the end. Now they were at the bookstore next to the theater, where Five told her he would buy her some new books.

As he sat there with his expensive pants jammed into a chair in the children’s section, he decided he was going to give her about two more minutes before they were leaving. Books or no books. Who was he kidding…he’d probably sit there all day if it made her happy.

His young niece was about to say something to him, when Five snapped to attention and held his hand out for her to be quiet. He thought he had heard something. Something very familiar. But he was probably just going crazy.

“I think—”

“Shhh!” he hushed her again.

Grace sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest with a pout. She did not like being quieted.

Five concentrated, listening for the sound he thought he had heard. There was nothing, though, which made a lot more sense, and his body relaxed again. He turned to Grace to apologize, but then he heard it again.

Those fucking bells.

It could have been anything, of course. The bells over the store door, or a baby’s toy. Maybe someone had their dog with them and its chain was jangling. But he would know that sound anywhere. He heard it in his sleep sometimes.

The sound seemed to be coming from a few aisles away. Five sprang out of his chair, his body stiff from being folded up like a pretzel for so long, and the chair tipped over behind him. Grace looked up at him, confused.

“Are we going? I haven’t made my decision yet.”

“Yes, come on. Just…grab all of them, let’s go.”

“But…”

Five groaned with his head back, wishing he could say what he really wanted to which was “Get the fuck up now.” Instead, he looked hastily around him at all the books on the shelves and on the table.

“Here.” He began scooping up piles of them, not even looking at the covers. He was grabbing four or five at a time off the shelves and balancing them in his arms. He shoved a couple at Grace, too. “We’ll just get all of them.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “All of them?”

“Yeah, sure. Come on, let’s go.”

With one arm full of random kid’s books, he held out his other hand for her to take. He all but pulled her arm out of the socket as he yanked her out of her chair.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Gracie,” he mumbled, still dragging her behind him as she tried to keep up.

Five hurried through the store, looking frantically down each aisle. He couldn’t hear the bells anymore, and he was afraid maybe he was too late. But as they rounded a corner into the “Religion” section, he stopped. And stared.

There she was, just like he remembered her. She wasn’t wearing the slutty elf outfit, but her body was still as sexy as ever in a pair of small cut-off shorts and a tight, red tank top. Her long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was looking over the back cover of a book in her hand, and Five could see she was smiling. Of course she was smiling.

Five walked slowly towards her, Grace still in tow. When she looked up, her smile grew bigger.

“I thought I told you to stop following me,” Five said with a smirk.

“Who says I’m following you? Don’t you believe in coincidences?”

Five shook his head. “Not really.”

Candy actually looked flustered and she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s good to see you again.”

Five let out a sigh of relief. “It’s really good to see you.”

Candy looked down at Grace, who was staring up at her in curiosity, and then back at Five.

Five cleared his throat. “Oh, this is my niece. Grace. But you already know that, I guess.” He looked down at his niece. “This is a…friend of mine. Candy.”

Grace smiled shyly. Then she stuck out her hand and pointed at Candy’s wrist. “I like your bracelet.”

Five’s eyes were drawn to the jewelry at the same time Candy smiled down at Grace in return. “Thank you. It’s one of my favorites.”

Then she moved her wrist to show off the gold bracelet made up of tiny, jingling bells. The source of the bells Five had heard. He laughed, shaking his head and looking at the floor.

“I really hate that sound.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

There was an awkward pause, and Five glanced over at the book Candy had in her hand. The title was The Path To Enlightenment: Discovering Your Guardian Angel .

“Brushing up on things?” he asked, gesturing to the book.

“This? Oh no, this is what I read when I need a laugh. This whole section should be titled “Humor”. I mean, you should read some of the things they try and pass off as fact.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Candy looked to the books Five was holding and pointed a finger at the top one on the stack. “I hear that’s a good one.”

Five looked down, seeing that one of the random books he’d pulled out was I Pooped on the Potty, And You Can Too! , complete with a drawing of a cartoon elephant sitting on a toilet. Five blushed, but then he laughed.

“Well, better late than never.”

Candy nodded. “Definitely.”

Five felt a tug on his hand and he looked at Grace, who was motioning with her index finger for him to lean in closer. He crouched down so he was at eye level, and she leaned in to whisper in his ear. Although, being a kid, the whole damn book store could have heard her whisper.

“She’s pretty.”

Five feigned surprised, then looked back up at Candy, then back at Grace. “You think so?”

Grace nodded. “You should take her on a date,” she whispered loudly and Five heard Candy giggle.

“What do you know about dates?”

“I know that girls like them because my mom always gets happy after my dad takes her somewhere to eat.”

Five nodded like he was mulling this over. “I see. So, I should ask her now?”

Grace nodded, her face serious. “If you want her to like you.”

When Five stood up, Candy was covering her mouth, trying not to laugh. Then she waited expectantly for whatever Five was going to say to her.

“My tiny wingman here has informed me that I should ask you on a date. Would you like that?”

Candy nodded. “I think I would, yes.”

“Would you like to come over to my brother’s house tomorrow? He’s having a family barbecue for the 4th. It will probably be a giant shit show, but I said I’d be there.”

“How could I pass that up? I would love to.”

When Five looked back down at Grace, she gave him a thumbs up. Then she sat on the floor to look at her books since her job as matchmaker was now done. He set his own books down and took a step closer to Candy, reaching out to touch her hand lightly, brushing his fingers over the back of her hand. He wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that, but seeing as how they were in a bookstore and his niece was present, he held himself back.

“I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Five.”

“So, you’re here now? Permanently?”

She nodded. “I am. Thanks to you.”

“Why did it take so long? Where have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been around. You needed some time to get things sorted out by yourself. But I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She looked down at Grace. “Seems like you’ve got things figured out now.”

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you.”

“Just part of the job.”

Five laughed and then reached up to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I really want to kiss you again.”

“I would love that,” she breathed out.

He was about to lean in, when he stopped himself. “Wait. You’re not going to make me see anything weird again, are you?”

She shook her head. “No. I promise.”

“Good. Because I’ve had enough of that shit to last a lifetime.”

In a second, he was kissing her, softly and deeply, while he pulled her body in closer with an arm around her waist. He let out a sigh when he felt her fingers trace down the back of his neck. She felt and tasted just like he remembered and it was taking everything inside himself not to pull her down to the floor right there in the Religion section.

“Ew! Gross!”

Five pulled away, the disgusted sound of his niece snapping him out of his trance. Candy laughed and Five looked down at Grace, perturbed that she had abruptly turned from adorable wingman to major cock blocker. But he supposed this wasn’t the most appropriate place for a steamy make-out session anyway.

Five cleared his throat. “Well, I guess we should get going. I have to get her home.”

“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Five nodded, gathering up his books again. “Oh, wait. I’m not very good at this dating thing, but don’t you need my phone number?”

Candy shook her head. “No, that’s ok. I know how to find you.”

Then, with a sly smile, she added “Oh, and Five? Keeping in the spirit of the holiday tomorrow…you can declare my independence anytime you want. Give me your John Han cock . If you’re up for it.”

With a slightly evil smile of his own, Five stepped in closer to her again, close enough to lean in next to her ear.

“Baby, the British won’t be the only ones that are coming. Not when you red, white, and blow me.”

Candy laughed loudly, her entire body shaking and her stupid bracelet jingling. Five just smirked and turned to walk away, holding his niece’s hand and feeling undeniably happy.

[frosted-hyacinth]

You have a bad day

Feat. sae itoshi

Tags. fluff

cw. near-death experience (if there are any more, please let me know)

        You practically collapsed on your chair after you finished the huge mountain load of work and documents. After how tiring and mentally draining your day was. You'd almost gotten hit by a car that screeched to a halt after seeing you in front of it, crossing the road. It was a green light so you proceeded to walk across the road, looking around to check if there were any cars around. After making sure that there were none, you crossed the road only to be met with headlights in your face and the loud noise of brakes. You were shocked, after all, you almost got killed on your way to work. You stood there stunned before seeing the flashing red numbers on the traffic light and ran towards the sidewalk. You were expecting to continue on your way to work peacefully, continuing on your day like you hadn't almost died but just before you could take a step forwards, the driver of the car decided that this incident was entirely your fault and logically, the only thing they could have done was to open their car window and start screaming at you.

        They thought that it was because of your carelessness that they could almost have been sent to prison yet the driver was the one who almost ran a red light. So you just sped up and walked to your work building. As you finally arrived at the building, you set your stuff on your desk and sat down on your chair, opening your computer screen since you were preparing to pick up on the work you were doing yesterday. Before you could open the document, your co-worker tapped you on the shoulder. You didn’t notice but she had been silent walking behind you while you got your things prepared.

        “The boss asked for you.” She said, a smile on her face.

        “Thanks Mika.” You replied with a similar smile then took your laptop with you to walk towards a glass covered room. These types of rooms made you nervous, not only because every time you came into these types of rooms you were going to have serious conversations but also because the room itself felt scary. Sometimes it could be claustrophobic and feel like the perfect environment to have panic attacks but this time, you were seeing your boss. The one that helped you keep your job but also the one that could fire you at any moment. You couldn’t just break down in front of them, that could make you risk your job that you’d worked so hard on finding! You walked into the room with some non-existent confidence that was made last moment, taking a deep breath before your eyes were met with the very direct eye contact of your boss.

Her eyes were still on your but she gestured for you to take a seat on the chair in front of you, an order to which you easily complied to. The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds that felt like hours. If you had to sit there any longer in silence, you felt like you would suffocate. Thankfully, before you could die mentally, your boss spoke up.

        "I have been... Watching your work that you hand in, and I've noticed some things about the pattern that you give me your work. You tend not to finish you work as fast as other employees and to try to make your adaptive skills better, I have decided to assign you an amount of work that you must finish today." She said while reaching under her desk and handing you a pile of papers and documents.

        You nodded slowly then was motioned to get out of the room and resume your activities with the workload that your boss had just given you.

        You walked as quickly as possible out of the room as an attempt to get more time to work done.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

        You sighed, clicking off your pen and shutting down your laptop. You were finally done. When you walked into the elevator, you heard a small ding sound coming from your phone so you turned it on.

Sae: When are you coming home

        When you saw that text, you let out a small chuckle as you realised that you forgot to tell your boyfriend that you would be coming home a little bit later than usual due to the work that you had to quickly finish. You stepped out of the elevator once it had reached the floor you needed then you replied to the text that Sae had sent you with some explanations to why you were late but not much else other than that. You didn't send him the time that you'd get home since it was dark out. When you sent the message to him, it had the symbol that it was sent underneath the text and just as soon as that appeared, it was read by Sae.

Sae: Do you need a ride

        You looked out of the building. It was snowing. So it was cold, slippery and dark outside... Not the best combination, not the safest either... You responded with a quick and straight forwards, yes.

Sae: I'll be there in five

        And now you were set to wait five minutes before your ride arrived. 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

        Sae's car arrived in front of the building, you saw so you walked out of the warm building towards the car. Just before you entered the car, a large gust of wind caught you off guard, making you shiver and stumble backwards before opening the car door and entering the car. You slid swiftly into the front seat of Sae's car, when you made contact with the seat's leather, a large and fluffy jacket was placed over your body, covering your head as well. You pushed the jacket off your head and smiled at Sae, buckling your seatbelt. When you smiled at him, he saw a glint of stress in your eyes but right now, it seemed like all you wanted to do was go home. He'd ask you about it later but for now he'd focus on driving.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

        You and Sae changed into a comfortable sweater, you having stolen a hoodie from his closet. When you finished changing, he quickly pulled you to the couch, on his lap, making sure that you were comfortable then he looked directly into your eyes.

        "Did anything happen today?" He asked, tone dead serious. "..Yes'' He continued staring at you, initiating a silent request for you to tell him what happened. You were hesitant to tell him but continued anyway, listing everything that happened, from almost getting killed by a car on your way to work to getting overwhelmed with work. When you were done saying everything, you asked him if he could watch Howl's Moving Castle with you to unravel from the day, he silently agreed then proceeded to turn on the tv, playing the movie you mentioned. For half the movie, you watched with your head nuzzled into your boyfriend's chest until you dozed off.

        He stayed in this position with you for a few hours, almost falling asleep in the process but he managed to somehow stay awake. He quietly crept out of your grasp, grabbing his phone and wallet from the table, getting ready to use any and all contacts he possibly could to try and fire your boss and make the life of the person who had almost killed you, a living hell. So don't be surprised if you wake up to find that your boss has been fired. It shouldn't be shocking if you have a boyfriend like Sae.

-I don't actually have a job so... This is probably inaccurate. I also don't know how this ended up this long but... Also, I don't have much on Sae's personality so he might also be a little out of character. 映

[sixth-light]

the thing that fascinates me about the whole Brandon Sanderson episode 2x08 meltdown is that, look. he is EXTREMELY popular with a certain very specific subset of SFF fan who loves 'Magic A is Magic A' type magic systems where it's really sci-fi in fantasy dressing and part of the fun of the exercise for him and his readers is interrogating it to find all the logical loopholes and cool shit that you can do while still being within the rules of the system and so on. and that's perfectly legit.

but it's also...even though WoT does have aspects of this, in that channeling is a very rules-based magic system compared to e.g. magic in LoTR (which is the classic 'no rules only vibes' high fantasy magic) it also co-exists along magic which is MUCH more vibes-based (whatever Min does, Ogier Treesinging, Wolfbrothers). RJ was also never interested in writing the sort of edge-case rules-lawyering that BS obviously loves; it's pretty clear he wanted channeling to have rules to give himself rails to run on when incorporating it into the plot, not so he could logically deconstruct the thing. (like, how exactly did Mierin Eronaile and Beidomon use the One Power to drill into the Dark One's prison the first time when the Dark One is outside the Pattern? we have no idea because it doesn't matter, it just matters that they did it.) there's also plenty of inconsistencies and weird notes in the earlier books because he hadn't fully settled on how things worked yet - famously, Moiraine's staff.

and none of that matters really, because ultimately the internal logic and ability to be gamed out of your magic system is not a sign of writing quality, it's an artistic choice about how you want to depict magic in your SFF setting and also about what helps you as an author to write an internally coherent story. there's a lot of very good fantasy where the magic is EXTREMELY handwave-y and it's fine because that's not the point of the thing.

so to see that BS apparently seems to think that it IS a sign of writing quality and furthermore that the show is bad if it doesn't meet *his personal standard* of magic system logic, which he is somehow 'qualified' to have because...he likes to write magic systems with lots of rules a lot...is just. wild. sir, you have identified a very specific niche of nerd who will give you lots of money for your very specific books, that's great for you but the world of SFF is much bigger and weirder and cooler than that and that's okay.

[sant-riley]

is it ok to request some headcannons with the team? if so, could you do a reader that’s covered in tattoos? like heavily tattooed. even their fingers. right? anyways, the reader is always covered during missions (like ghost level covered) and the team have subconsciously created this image of them under it all but haven’t really seen them until one day reader is wearing normal clothes and they’re like 🧍‍♀️ what? you have tattoos and like barely any skin 🧍‍♀️ IDK I JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CUTE NVM THOUGH IF U DONT WANNA WRITE ❤️ NO ISSUE IF YOU DONT!

[Task force 141 and Laswell with reader who has a lot of tattoos)

A/N: I am not heavily tattooed yet but I did love this request sm soooo here this is :) Ty for the suggestion and I hope you enjoy!

They can’t really be blamed for not knowing about the tattoos, y’all are all covered typically in heavy gear and clothing and weapons most of the time. And they don’t question it when you’re covered up even more than usual bc yk, Ghost exists walking around in a Halloween costume 365 days a year. They’re used to it so they won’t prod.

Most task force members have tattoos of their own, it’s not a strange concept but they just assume you have none, they see you covered up and that’s that.

But then one day, let’s say there’s a mission and you guys get fucking d r e n c h e d in water, and you’re in a cold climate so leaving your clothes on is not an option. They need to dry by the fire and you cannot catch hypothermia.

Whatever reason you cover up, you know it’s only logical so you shyly take off your gear, quickly going by the fire while the guys quietly stare at your figure, staring at the ink decorating your body. Yes you’re beautiful and yes it’s their first time seeing so much of your skin but is that a fucking narwhal on your arm-

You have to snap at them to quit their staring bc you think they’re only staring at your chest or at your underwear but soap just blurts out “YOU ‘AVE TATTOOS?” And everyone else nods.

~

Individual reactions:

Ghost:

Ghost fucking loves it so much, he could stare at your tattoos for hours on end. He rolls up his sleeves to show you the ones decorating his forearms, letting you trace your fingers over the skull and withholding a shudder.

He immediately brings his hand up and traces yours back, asking questions about them and how long they took with you sitting in the chair, grunting in response as he zones out.

Asks why you cover them up as often as you do but when you send him that look he quickly says never mind.

Soap:

He immediately asks you about the meaning (if you have any for them). He admires them and thinks they make you look beautiful and badass.

He also will take a marker and draw ones on your empty bits of skin and color any grayscale tattoos you have.

If you were to ever get one of his doodles or drawings tattooed he would probably tear up on the spot. Also maybe kiss you stupid bc wow you have something from him on your skin forever and he loves you sm.

Would design y’all matching pieces, in your line of work tomorrow isn’t guaranteed so if you’re down, he’ll make the appointment for you both.

Price:

I personally don’t think Price has tattoos or would ever get any bc he doesn't care for them but he has an appreciation for yours.

Everyone would think he would be the type to talk down on them but all he said to you was “do you like ‘em? You do? Then why the fuck would I care?”

In between breaks, he’ll casually ask if you got any new ones and that he’d like to see them.

Gaz:

Gaz doesn’t have any but that’s just because he can’t fully decide on what he’d get, he’s young like you and cannot handle the commitment.

Therefore he lives by you and eagerly encourages all your ink and will always go with you to your tattoo session if he’s free.

He’s the best kind of person to have come along esp for long sessions bc he’ll go get you food, drinks, etc while he sits with you.

He always says he’s gonna get one when he goes with but always said never mind lmao.

Bonus <3 Laswell:

Now she's no stranger to ink, she's not covered up but she does have a matching tattoos with her wife and a few small patches of her wedding flowers on her.

She absolutely adores your ink and will not hesitate to defend you and it if someone were to disrespect you bc of what you've done with YOUR body.

She's a mom what can I say, she knows her authority and won't be shy to use it.

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel

@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@xncasi @king-cookiex

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol

@cluelessyasmin @sesshomaruwaifu @chaos-unchecked @kalamataolivesssss @arunasmisfortune @tbrfic

[fatehbaz]

Goldstein and Mahmoudi point to what, on appearance, is a relatively new phenomenon: namely the use of digital technologies in contemporary forms of surveillance and policing, and the way in which they turn the body into the border. [...] [T]he datafication of human life becomes an industry in its own right [...] [with the concept of] “surveillance capitalism” - a system based on capturing behavioral data and using it for commercial purposes [...] [which] emerged in the early 2000s [...].

In contrast, scholarship on colonialism, slavery, and plantation capitalism enables us to understand how racial surveillance capitalism has existed since the grid cities of sixteenth-century Spanish Mexico (Mirzoeff 2020). In short, and as Simone Browne (2015, 10) has shown, “surveillance is nothing new to black folks.” [...]

[S]urveillance in the service of racial capitalism has historically aided three interconnected goals: (1) the control of movement of certain - predominantly racialized - bodies through means of identification; (2) the control of labor to increase productivity and output; and (3) the generation of knowledge about the colony and its native inhabitants in order to “maintain” the colonies [...].

---

Identification documents and practices can, like so many other surveillance technologies, be traced back to the Middle Passage [...]. [T]he movement of captives was controlled through [...] slave passes, slave patrols [...]. Similar strategies of using wanted posters and passes were put in place to control the movement of indentured white laborers from England and Ireland. [...]

Fingerprinting, for example, was developed in India because colonial officials could not tell people apart [...].

In Algeria, the French dominated the colonized population by issuing internal passports, creating internal limits on movement for certain groups, and establishing camps for landless peasants [...]. In South Africa, meanwhile, the movement of the Black population was controlled through the “pass laws”: an internal passport system designed to confine Black South Africans into Bantustans and ensure a steady supply of super-exploitable labor [...].

On the plantation itself, two forms of surveillance emerged - both with the underlying aim of increasing productivity and output. One was in the form of daily notetaking by plantation and slave owners. [...] Second, [...] a combination of surveillance, accounting, and violence was used to make slave labor in the cotton fields more “efficient.” [...] [S]imilar logics of quotas and surveillance still reverberate in today's labor management systems. Finally, surveillance was also essential to the management of the colonies. It occurred through [...] practices like fingerprinting and the passport [...]. [P]hotographs were used after colonial rebellions, in 1857 in India and in 1865 in Jamaica, to better identify the local population and identify “racial types.” To control different Indian communities deemed criminal and vagrant, the British instituted a system of registration where [...] [particular people] were not allowed to sleep away from their villages without prior permission [...].

---

In sum, when thinking about so-called surveillance capitalism today, it is essential to recognize that the logics that underpin these technologies are not new, but were developed and tested in the management of racialized minorities during the colonial era with a similar end goal, namely to control, order, and undermine the poor, colonized, enslaved, and indentured; to create a vulnerable and super-exploitable workforce; and to increase efficiency in production and foster accumulation. Consequently, while the (digital) technologies used for surveillance might have changed, the logics underpinning them have not.

---

All text above by: Sabrina Axster and Ida Danewid. In a section from an article co-authored by Sabrina Axster, Ida Danewid, Asher Goldstein, Matt Mahmoudi, Cemal Burak Tansel, and Lauren Wilcox. "Colonial Lives of the Carceral Archipelago: Rethinking the Neoliberal Security State". International Political Sociology Volume 15, Issue 3, September 2021, pages 415-439. Published June 2021. At: doi dot org slash 10.1093/ips/olabo013. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[bloo-the-dragon]

Run Boy Run

A bit of an experimental one shot focusing on Bloodmoon (sams) and FC set when Bloodmoon was under Foxy and Monty's command many months ago, which is actually when i first drafted this lol. Woke up in a cold sweat and wrote most of it before forgetting about it until today.

So basically it's a what if situation where Stitchwraith shows up and Bloodmoon fulfils his command to protect FC. It's really not a redemption thing, more a what if they obeyed their command kinda deal. About 2.7k words!

(Also on AO3!)

~~~

Bloodmoon was guarding FC at the daycare. They did not want to be here. They would rather be anywhere else than stuck in this accursed place. Perhaps it would not be so bad if there was human children running around, but it was well after hours and it was just them and the little fox brat here. And he was under very strict orders not to harm the child lest they find theirselves swifted wiped from existence.

So here they sat, grumbling and clawing at the playmats as they were co-erced begrudginly into playing a game of castles by FC who wanted them to be the monster in the loch that surrounded his mighty castle made from those stupid barrels.

Admittedly the sight of the spherical objects made the twins a little uneasy, memories in the back of their shared mind of being faced with one held by a certain yellow animatronic, a flash of light and then nothing. But the barrels were supposedly safe now and no longer a danger. They remained skeptical of this, and so chose not to touch them leaving the fox child to stack them as he wished while they lay sprawled out on the ground, tearing fresh holes into the gross blue mats.

They wondered how much longer of this hell they would have to endure. One half was consistently egging the other to make a break for the doors, they could so easily clamber up the woodwork and squeeze between the gap toward their freedom. Multiple times the more logical half had to remind their erratic twin of the bomb planted so neatly into their head. And more so again as FC bonked them with a barrel to get their attention. They did snap their jaws in warning though, which ceased FC's actions and they snickered as the little fox suddenly startled and fell backwards.

However they quickly realised it was not them who caused FC to startle so. Hearing the sounds of uneven footsteps, they snapped their head around to see the Stitchwraith making it's way toward them.

Immedietely Bloodmoon was on their feet, teeth bared and claws out ready to attack. But experience had taught them to not immedietely jump and to be wary of the abomination as they knew it had many foul tricks up the cloak it wore. They made the mistake of jumping into action against it once, they would not do so again.

'FC' The Stitchwraith called out, drawing out the C' in a sickeningly soft voice. 'Come here, come to me.'

FC did not respond. He appeared to be too frightened, crouching behind the barrel that he had been hitting Bloodmoon with not a minute ago. Stitchwraith took another step forward and Bloodmoon growled, snapping their jaws in warning. The command to protect FC was starting to kick in in full and despite how much it sickened them, in the end they hated Stitchwraith more than they did the fox and his brat.

Stitchwraith seemed to notice their presence, and it called out to them next. 'Bloodmoon. Bring him to me. Now.'

Bloodmoon twitched at the command. They almost complied, the accursed instincts to follow orders activating. Plus it being Stitchwraith, someone they had unknowingly followed like an obediant dog for months.

But Stitchwraith was no longer their ward, their master. They had none.

Was Foxy their master? Coding said yes but Bloodmoon aggressively disagreed. 

The old fox had treated them well though, better than the others. While they were forbiddan to maim people they were still provided sustenance as meager as it was. Animal blood couldn't compare to human blood afterall. It was less sustaining. But it was something.

FC whimpered, as Stitchwraith called for him again. This time Bloodmoon recognised the voice, the so called 'nice' one. They knew it to be a lie. They knew that one was more a snake than the other.

The twins considered briefly their next course of action. One side, the more angry one wanted to follow as they had been told and to lunge, kill the Stitchwraith as was their command.

Attack ATTACK it is weak, we shall maim and tear and feast!

No.. Something is wrong brother. Surely you feel it too. Weakened as it is, i sense something is amiss.

Their spiral eyes narrowed, and they growled menacingly as they lowered themself to the ground ready to pounce or bolt. Yet there was something... off about the Stitchwraith. When they first spied it they immedietely noticed it appeared to be more damaged than it had been the last time they'd seen it. The steps it took were uneven and it walked with a heavy limp. They could hear a sickening grinding noise with every movement almost as if it were forcing itself to move. It did not sound comfortable. It sounded like it was in a great deal of pain.

And that meant it was weak. Less of a threat, easier to take down.

But still they'd held their ground. Past experience aside, the closer it got the more the twins sensed that it seemed to be almost more.. powerful than before. Despite how badly damaged it was, the red core that sat in the center of the mangled robots chest thrummed with such potent energy that even they could sense it.

The abomination's patience appeared to wane, as with a sudden burst of energy it took a couple of quick steps forward, claws outstretched toward FC.

'Come here. Now.'

Bloodmoon saw red. Quite literally.

The red core in Stitchwraith's chest began to glow and Bloodmoon reacted on pure instinct. Twisting their head, they clamped their teeth onto the scruff behind the tiny fox's neck elicting a startled yelp from the child before turning and bolting out of the daycare on all fours.

There was an angry shout, something that sounded like a 'No!' But Bloodmoon didn't dare look back, didn't slow down. They scrambled up the wooden doors and squeezed through the gap at the top just as one half had been pre-planning prior to this. As they lept down, the wooden doors cracked and splintered before bursting open with a looud bang behind them.

But the twins and the little fox within their jaws were already up the stairs. They ran faster, running in an erratic zigzag as bolts of red electrical like energy struck the ground on either side of them.

They dashed out of the daycare, their claws scrabbling to find grip on the marble floor that led toward the main entrance. They began making big leaps and bounds, almost like a bunny and at one point they even ran briefly across the wall before finally making it to the double doors leading to the pizzaria lobby.

They burst through the doors, nearly snapping one off its hinges in the process. They stop briefly to finally check behind them, to see how close the Stitchwraith was. They couldn't see it, they had managed to outrun it. But they knew better than to hang around in such an open space.

They looked around, the little fox swinging in their jaws as the red and blue animatronic searched frantically for a place to hide. One side pointed their shared view to a specific hole in the ceiling, meant for the elevator that sit broken by the escalators. It could work to hide them if they could get up there.

Wasting no time, they darted toward the giant glowing pillars that connected the elevator to the ceiling. They lunged and grabbed onto one, grunting and hissing as the bright light hurt their sensitive eyes. But they scrambled their way up it regardless and into the gaping space above.

They were able to only get up so far though as there was a metal barrier of some kind blocking the rest of the way. A safety measure should anything fall in from above they would assume. But they were up far enough that they should not be so easily spotted.

Bloodmoon adjusted theirself, finding purchase with their claws and supports for their feet to keep theirselves in place. FC remained scruffed in their teeth, and the little fox whimpered as he hung almost precariously, his eyes closed tight as to not look at the high distance between them and the ground below.

The red and blue jester hissed a low and dangerous 'quiet' just as the Stitchwraith appeared, slamming the daycare entryway doors aside and completely snapping the already broken one off the hinges.

Both Bloodmoon and FC went very still. They couldn't directly see Stitchwraith at this angle but they could hear as well as sense it. The eerie energy that radiated from it was all too hard to miss, as were the uneven footsteps and sounds of broken machinery as the mangled animatronic prowled below them.

'FC? Where are you buddy? If you hear me just call out! Did Bloodmoon hurt you? I'll come rescue you, don't worry'

FC didn't make a sound but Bloodmoon could feel him tremble, how the tiny fox curled in on himself even more tucking his legs and tail close. The smell of fear was strong and it took all of their effort to not give into the sudden urge to bite down fully.

More accursed mechanical noises, more soft calls carrying false words of encouragement and poisonous promise. At one point Bloodmoon spied the Stitchwraith as it moved below them. Their spiral eyes fixed on it immedietely following its every move with intense focus, their body completely still and tense and ready to lunge the moment the mangled robot turned its hooded head up toward the two.

But it did not. Instead the calls fell quiet and Bloodmoon could barely hear the angry hushed whispers to itself. With a sudden angry snarl accompanied by crackles of more red energy that had FC flinching harshly, Stitchwraith turned and stormed off in another direction once again leaving their line of sight.

However Bloodmoon dared not move, remaining completely still. Both sides were silent even in their mind, both being completely hyper focused with one side listening and looking out for the looming danger below them and the other holding back the bloodlust being triggered by FC's terror.

Even as the sounds grew softer and eventually disappeared entirely they did not dare to move. For all they knew, the Stitchwraith could still be nearby, waiting for them to come out of hiding so it could ambush them. They wern't taking the chance.

They knew not how long they stayed there. Could have been an hour, could have been ten minutes. Either way, FC started to whine softly the events taking its toll on the little fox. Bloodmoon growled a warning and that shut him up quick. But not a minute after, there were sounds of footsteps approaching which had both tensing up once again before a familiar voice followed.

'FC? FC Where are you? Bloodmoon? Either of you are you here?'

It was Foxy. FC perked up instantly, and with only slight hesitation called out to his dad.

'I'm here father!'

With that, Bloodmoon finally moved from his position, grabbing onto the accursed glowing pillar and sliding down it to where Foxy was waiting for them.

Bloodmoon released FC from their jaws, and the little fox instantly bolted away and over to Foxy. Bloodmoon twitched in a barely restrained effort to not automatically chase after him, but otherwise remained where they were, flexing their claws as they fought to calm their bloodlust as well as their own nerves.

Meanwhile Foxy checked over his son frantically. 'Are you alright? Did he hurt you?' Foxy immedietely shot Bloodmoon a glare as he noticed the faint bite mark on the back of his sons neck. While the faux fuzz skin was not torn, there were clear puncture marks.

Bloodmoon notices his glare and they let out a scoff, turning their head away. But FC is shaking his head drawing the older fox animatronic's attention back.

'No no! I am not hurt they... Bloodmoon saved me from the Stitchwraith!'. 

'I.. see' Foxy couldn't help the slight skeptisim from entering his voice but. 'Well.. Good. Glad to see you're capable of following orders then' Foxy directed his voice over to Bloodmoon. The red and blue jester shot him a snarl but they did not answer, instead plopping theirselves onto the floor and clawing halfheartedly at the carpet.

Foxy sighed, and turned back to his son. Aside from the bite mark he looked to be ok just a little shaken. 'I saw the Stitchwraith on the cams. Came here fast as i could. I'm sorry you had to deal with that but you're safe now.'

FC fiddled with his hands. 'Can we go home now?'

'Yeah kid, we can go home. Won't be back here for a while. I already gave Monty a call on my way down here so. He should be here soon, so just hang tight for a bit alright?'

'What if the Stitchwraith comes back?'

'Then we'll deal with it should happen. But i think it's gone for now and we won't be here for much longer.'

'Ok father..'

Foxy ruffled his sons head. 'Atta' boy.' He then stood and turned his attention to Bloodmoon, considering his options. They had done exactly as they were commanded which was... surprising honestly. Foxy had assumed they would have been torn apart by the Stitchwraith. Afterall their main purpose was to hold them off long enough for him or Monty to get down there. They had surprised him today.

Foxy hummed. He wondered.

While Foxy and FC were talking, Bloodmoon had tuned them out. They were starting to feel weary. The effort it took of holding back their bloodlust combined with the sudden burst of energy that had them bolting across the plex was starting to take its toll. The twins were tired and hungry and their arms and legs beginning to feel a little sore. Conflicting emotions swam within them from both sides. The satisfaction in their code of fulfilling their order to protect FC conflicting with the command denied to bring FC to the Stitchwraith as they were told to.

They hated this. Hated being stuck like this. Hated that they were bound to the commands of two masters. They knashed their teeth, wanting nothing more than to feast on soft flesh and warm blood before curling up and going to sleep.

They flinched as their name was called, flinching back as they realised the old fox was suddenly standing next to them. One half of them automatically hissed and swiped but the other half held them back as they processed a question that had been asked to them.

'What?'

Foxy had his hands held up in a non threatening manner. A difficult feat to accomplish when one had was literally a hook. 'Negative O. That's your favourite right?'

Bloodmoon tilted their head in a confused manner, but they warily nod. 'Alright, ok good got it' Foxy replies, 'listen you did good today so tell you what. I'll get you one blood bag as a treat. Maybe two if you behave between now and when we get home. Sound good?'

The twins do not answer, squinting at the old fox in suspicion. Was this a trick? Some kind of ploy? For what reason would he do this? They did not believe for a moment this 'good behaviour' shit he was spewing. They had simply done what they were commanded to do, nothing more.

However, the prospect of having actual human blood, and their favourite type no less was too good to pass up. They inwardly agreed with one another they could play the little nice nice game for a little longer too if it meant getting an extra bag so they nodded their head again.

'Alright good' Foxy nods mostly to himself before turning to FC. He had noted Bloodmoon looked tired and FC was looking increasingly like he could use a nap, the stress finally starting to take it's toll on the little fox. Bloodmoon too, as they stopped clawing up the carpet and resorted to curling up on the floor. Nasty place to lie down Foxy mused but he wasn't gonna tell them otherwise.

Eventually Monty did arrive and set up the portal back home. Foxy sent Bloodmoon and FC through first, and quickly passed on his request to Monty to grab the two negative o blood bags for Bloodmoon to which the gator agreed. As he passed through the portal himself Foxy wondered if perhaps he could use this as a consistant reward for good behaviours in future to keep Bloodmoon in line.

[outlanderskin]

The Thing About Rationality and Logic

Someone who was stopping shipping once told me that she was doing it because she was a very realistic and rational person and her life was based on logic. So I asked her if by that she meant that people like me live in fantasy or are irrational. So, I patiently explained that what made me a shipper was exactly logic, more than imagination or fantasy. Because the logical explanation for many events in S&C's trajectory would be that they are together, but they don't want the outside world to know that they are.

I'll cite some examples: when you have a best friend and someone in that person's family dies, what logically do you do? You see, we're talking about best friends, very close people who publicly say how much they value each other and are close. The logical thing would be for you to show solidarity, post condolences and behave publicly in a discreet manner, in solidarity with the loss of that person you love so much, especially because you (by logic) probably have known the deceased relative. The logic would be stay by your best friend's side, support the family. But what we saw in that sad august days, (showed ostensibly for us to believe) was something that no logical answer about "best friends/siblings" could explain. The only way to explain the narrative created in those days would be that they are two people with a cordial, but superficial, relationship and I believe that from what has been stated by the two all these years, not even the Antis deep down believe that they are not close. . Again I ask: what is the need to hide that you were supporting your best friend in an extremely painful moment in anyone's life? Many people (famous or not) do this publicly, because after all it is not a crime, it is the expected logical behavior. So... Why hide it? We know what really happened because this a logical thing, but the others believe firmly he was not there for her.

Let's move on to another point: the man of the year award (or something like that); How can you logically explain that you chose your mother, your best friend and your co-worker to thank, as the most important women in your life? You who apparently had many "girlfriends", who still gets along well with your discreet ex-girlfriend who lives on another continent, who has others close female friends, but didn't mention any of them along with your co-worker. I've seen several men receiving tributes and the Acknowledgments always include the mother, another older woman of reference and the wives, girlfriends, fiancées. The only time I saw a co-worker mentioned (and that was after his mother, grandmother and wife), was when the achievement was due to his work at the company, so it was logical to mention the department secretary. What would then be the logical explanation for that speech?

Something that also defies logic: if I have a best friend and that person is in a relationship, I will obviously include that person's boyfriend/girlfriend on my list of people with whom I am always cordial. I'm not going to publicly act like the person doesn't exist in my best friend's life. We have a wonderful example of how CD & LL treat each other's boyfriends/girlfriends and they don't hide it. This is how it is when we think logically.

Another little point where logic calls us: your male best friend might talk about a female artist with admiration...you don't need to tell him "behave", after all he's not your husband. The most you can do in the case of friendship is admire her or say you don't like her, never act like you're jealous.

Maybe it's just me, but I never went on my best friend's social media to complain because everyone in the photo was wearing a suit and he wasn't. I also never apologized or justified why he didn't wear a tie. I do this normally with my husband. Because it's logical for wives to do this.

These are just small points, where thinking logically justifies what we believe. So anyone who thinks that we are not rational, live outside of reality or do not have logical reasoning is mistaken, or has not yet stopped to think logically.🙃🙃