#the name of that street of the location burned into my memory as I was facing the wall well it's the name of [redacted] who I never really

[balkanballad]

had a day that made me think oh that was a bit heavy on the symbolism, wasn't it

[holylulusworld]

Vulnerable (4)

Summary: Professor Xavier entrusts you with the mission to locate a certain mutant with unknown consequences.

Pairing: Alpha!Wolverine x Omega!(Mutant)Reader

Characters: Jean Grey, Scott Summers

Warnings: angst, language, gruff Wolverine, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, implied true mates, you are on the run, mentions of the death of a loved one (sister), a lil Jean/Scott hate in this, foreshadowing

A/N: Jean is not Dark Phoenix in this story. The reader is stronger than both Professor Xavier and Jean Grey. She is a telepath, telekinetic, and empath. Most of the time, she suppresses her powers.

Catch up here: Inseparable

Undefeated masterlist

“Never!” Logan growls while speeding off, “Get inside my head ever again! If you do, I’ll split your skull with my claws.”

You laugh, because Logan wouldn’t get the chance to get close to you, and reply, “Believe me, buddy. Getting inside your messed-up mind is the last thing I want to do. Now drive more carefully. There’s no one following us. At least, for now. I try to make us invisible.”

“You can turn things invisible too?” He cocks a brow but focuses on the street. “What the fuck are you?”

“Aw, you’re cute when clueless.” You pat his thigh and squeeze it tightly. “I cannot turn things invisible. I’ll cover our traces using my powers. If anyone tries to find us, I’ll manipulate their minds. Now stop distracting me and drive.”

“You should sleep or do whatever you do after you split into two,” he huffs and slams his hands onto the steering wheel. “That was suicidal, kid!”

“I’m not a kid,” you growl. “Do I look like a kid to you?” You narrow your eyes at Logan. "Maybe everyone under one hundred is a kid to you, but stop acting like you are the adult in this team!”

“We’re not a team, k—” he grits his teeth. “After I dropped you at Xavier’s freak house, I’m out of this shitshow for good. I told Charles that I’m not the kind of man for teamwork or his X-Men.”

“Yeah, I can relate,” you prop your feet onto the dashboard, earning a growl from Logan. “Relax, old man.” You smirk when he glances at you for a second. He squares his jaw, and his muscles are tense. “What? You can call me kid, but I cannot call you old man.”

“Someone should teach you some manners!” Logan grits out. “Maybe I’m that one.”

You lean close and place your hand on his arm. “Please don’t hurt yourself, old man. I don’t want to fix your back because you got hurt.”

“You know about my healing factor, right?” He bites back. “I don’t need your help to feel better.”

“Aw, but sweetie,” you move your hand up and down his arm, causing him to shiver. “I swear, if I ever helped you feel better, you’d believe you ended up in heaven.”

You pull away, smirking because it seems you got under the old grump’s skin.

“One day, someone will break your neck,” he replies, his voice a little raspier than before. “And I won’t stop them.”

Snorting, you turn to the right side to get some sleep. You wave your hand, and a green aura surrounds your body. “I’ll sleep now. Only wake me if the car is on fire or we reached our destiny.”

“What if you are on fire?” He grins, and you chuckle.

“Just let me burn, old man,” you yawn. “I’ve got this. I’m fire- and bulletproof.”

Logan furrows his brows, wondering if you try to mess with him again. He must admit, your powers are impressive and downright scary.

“Wake up!” Logan gruffly calls your name. He pokes your thigh. “You’re lucky that you’re not on fire; neither is the car.”

You slowly sit up, stretching your sore limbs before you open the door to leave the car. Hours spent in the same position gave you more kinks in your back than you’d like to admit.

“Good, you didn’t crash the car,” you grumble under your breath. “You don’t need a babysitter all the time. That’s progress.”

Logan glares at you for a second but doesn’t say a thing. Being here, back at the X-Men headquarters and Xavier’s school of gifted youngsters, brings back memories he’d like to forget about.

“Can you not talk for like five minutes?” he huffs and gets out of the car. Logan slams the door shut, muttering under his breath. “Why did you have to bring me here? I was done with this life.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you huff. “And if you didn’t scream grumpy grandpa for crying out loud, I’d consider letting you go, but…” You smirk as he stalks toward you. “I can’t let a senior walk around the area on his own. You could get lost.”

“One day someone will teach you a lesson,” he snarls and slides his claws out. “I’ll be that one.” Logan grins as you take another step toward you. “This old man will teach you some manners too.”

You chuckle at his playful tone. It’s a distraction from his racing heart and the fear you can sense coming deep from within his soul. Being here is hard for him. You know that feeling.

“I see, you found him,” the gate creaks open behind you. Scott and Jean walk toward the car, and you already feel nauseous. Jean tries to see into your mind; a habit you never liked. She always wanted to control you since you first joined the X-Men. One of the reasons you left the team is to not feel like a guinea pig any longer.

“I always find them,” you reply, trying not to sound too annoyed. “If not, the professor wouldn’t have asked for my help. Here’s your lost sheep and the one you call Stryker.” You jerk your head toward the car. “He’s out cold. Tell me when you are ready to interrogate him. I’ll wake the sleeping beauty for you.”

“What did you do to him?” Jean is more concerned about you hurting a human than the fact that Stryker and his soldiers would’ve enslaved you and Logan.

“Oh, that wasn’t her,” Logan chuckles as Scott steps closer to him. “It was her cute alter ego. You know, the red aura crap running off to get a pound of flesh of the bastard in the back of my truck.”

“You hurt them,” Scott furrows his brows. He always was a softie and never knew when you have to end someone who’s evil through and through.”

"Well, it was a us or them kind of situation,” you shrug. “They were well-trained killers. What did you think will happen?” You glare at Scott. “I sent the first group home because they were newbies and didn’t kill innocent mutants for their fun. The others…” You dip your head to smirk at Scott, "They didn’t get so lucky. I sense evilness when I face it.”

“You used her again,” Jean chides while checking on Stryker’s vital functions. “I told you to never use her again!”

“She has a name!” Your aura turns from green to violet. “I told you not to treat her like an enemy, or even worse, a weapon you can use to your liking, but if I use my powers, then I’m the bad guy.”

“She?” Logan wonders aloud. He watches you take deep breaths, like in the bar, or before you unleashed your alter ego. This time your aura turns green, and it vanishes. “Did I miss something?”

“I told you, she’s my alter ego,” you turn around to face Logan. Your features soften feeling his confusion and the need to get away from Scott and Jean. “She’s…” You drop your gaze and sigh deeply.

“I came with you and even let you comb through my brain. You owe me an answer, Y/N!” Logan insists.

“Okay,” you nod, and place your hand on his chest. You look him in the eye, a kind of sadness in your eyes tearing through his very soul. “Professor Xavier brought me here when I was just a kid. After men like Stryker experimented on me and my…” You choke out a sob, “Twin sister.”

“Oh…” He can’t come up with an appropriate reaction, so he offers a cracked smile.

“We were both special; at least they told us so. Most of the time, we talked using telepathy or exchanged the food they gave us using our telekinesis. One day, they brought us into a room. ” You wipe your eyes. “There was another mutant, a very strong one. It was the most powerful being I ever encountered. They told us to fight him; and we did, but…”

“Shouldn’t we head inside?” Scott tries to stop you from telling your story to a man he never trusted. “Y/N?”

You ignore Scott and the fact that Jean tries once again to get a glimpse of your thoughts. You just look at Logan when a single tear rolls down your cheek. “He threw a shockwave in my direction. I was too stunned to react, and she…she just jumped in front of me, grabbing my hand and smiling as the shockwave tore her apart. Right in front of my eyes, my twin sister turned into dust.”

“I—I’m so sorry,” Logan finally gets out as your aura turns gray.

“It wasn’t her end,” you murmur. “Not completely. A part of her,” you smile now, and wave your hand to let the aura float around Logan. “I call it her soul; she stayed with me. Since that day, our powers have fused, and she’s there to protect me whenever I need her.”

“The aura is your sister?” He asks.

“A part of her is inside the aura I can create,” you murmur. “I can feel her, just like I felt her fuse with me that day.”

“That’s the most tragic story I ever heard, and I heard a lot of tragic stories,” Logan cracks a smile, making you chuckle. “Trust me, you win the award for the saddest story ever.”

You’re thankful for his reaction. He doesn’t try to tell you how sorry he is and that everything will turn out well. Logan is just…Logan. You are about to give him a witty comment when you sense an incredible power getting closer.

Your aura turns red immediately. You look at Jean, telling her to get Stryker and Scott inside. That power, you know it…

“He’s here. He’s coming for us. I didn’t feel him before, but I do now.” You use your telekinesis to send Logan flying. He lands behind the fence, the one you close and lock with your powers. “Get him inside. Protect him at all costs.”

You turn around, waving your hands, letting the aura dance in the air.

“Y/N…no!” Jean gasps when she watches your aura turn from red to black, your ultimate form. “Noooo! You’re going to kill us all!” She screams when you tell them to run inside the mansion. "You can't control this!"

“No, only he will die today.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own any longer.

A part of your aura surrounds your body, but the rest turns into ten versions of yourself. You stand in line, nodding at each other.

The day has finally come. You’ll get your revenge on Stryker and the monster killing your sister.

Tags in reblog.

[bullet-prooflove]

I’m drunk and I don’t wanna go home

Tagging: @kmc1989 @soultrysworld @Delicateflorencia @lazyquotesshadowart @thepurplebisexual 

The Fire Still Burns - The fire has never really gone out between you and Jimmy.

Jimmy doesn’t intent to get drunk. It’s just that he’s having such a good time that he loses track of how much wine you’ve both have been drinking. It isn’t until they start turning off the lights in the restaurant that he realises it’s late, very late.

You’re still laughing when you step into the cool nighttime air. He’s forgotten how beautiful you look when you smile, how it makes his heart thud a little harder in his chest, how his whole world lights up.

“I’m not ready for this to end just yet.” You say and he can’t help but grin because he isn’t either.

You end up at a karaoke bar around the corner, singing your hearts out to Bryan Adams, Cyndi Lauper and Bon Jovi. You’re a terrible singer but then again so is he and somehow it works.

The sun is just starting to rise when the two of you end up back out on the street. You’re both still drunk, falling into one another. He’s always liked the way you fit together, he’d thought you were his missing puzzle piece back in Med School. He still thinks that might be true now. He wonders what it might be like to kiss you, if you’d still taste the same on his lips.

When he puts you in a cab, something in his chest just aches and he remembers this feeling from almost two decades ago, when he let you walk out of his life to take the fellowship across the country.

“Let’s not leave it five years before we see each other again.” He finds himself saying as he holds open the door for you.

“You have my number.” You remind him as your lips brush across his cheek. “And you know where to find me.”

The scent of your perfume still clings to his skin when he gets home, it’s something dark, a little sensual. Amber and jasmine, he thinks. It reminds him of nights tangled up in your sheets, mouth covering yours, drinking down your pleasure as you’d come undone underneath him. He touches himself to that memory, stroking slowly, savouring the sensation. When he comes he spills his release all over his fist, the white streaks painting his stomach.

It's a couple of hours later that he wakes up naked and hungover his phone still in his hand. He groans at the pounding in his head, his vision is blurred and it him a minute to locate his glasses.

It’s only then that he sees the text message he sent, his cheeks colour as he reads it back.

I’ve just come all over myself thinking about the things we used to do.

It’s your message back that gets him hard again. It’s a two minute video entitled ‘Thinking of you’.

The camera is angled down towards your underwear. You’re clad in simple black cotton panties with a damp patch growing across the front as your fingertips trace light circles over your clit. They get faster as your breath hitches, you start to moan a little, your hips arching and Jimmy’s hands already drifting back under the sheets, seeking out his hardening cock.

You say his name at the height of climax, amidst the eruption of expletives that leave your mouth. He’s forgotten about that, that you can’t have an orgasm without saying the word fuck.

You’re going to make me come all over again, he texts back before he starts to watch the video again. It’s a few seconds later that you respond with a request.

Show me.

Love Jimmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mustanggg]

This one felt cute 🥰 🤭

Rick and I have been dating ever since the prison. Now in Alexandria we both share a house with Carl and Judith.

We have been going out for a while now. Things have always been great, we protected one another and consoled each other when we lost someone. Through thick and thin we both came out on the top, together, side by side.

Yet a couple weeks after discovering Alexandria Ricks behaviour started to worry me. I noticed how he’s withdrawn himself from me and Carl. Coming home late, crawling into bed way after I’ve fallen asleep trying to wait up for him. And every morning I wake up to an empty bed. I ached for him but he wasn’t there.

I had no idea what he was doing in the time span he was away. We always shared everything and worked through whatever came at either one of us, together.

Not this time. This time Ricks shouldered this unknown burden himself.

There was a party tonight. Everyone wanted to celebrate the birthday of Spencer. I didn’t see the point of going through the trouble for a big celebration but Rick had already confirmed us two would make an appearance.

I was annoyed that Rick gets to ignore me then says I’ll show up to the gathering without asking me first. Still I decided to make an effort on my appearance in hopes Rick sees what’s his missing and comes to his senses.

Slipping on a black dress that snugs all my curves perfectly and comes down to your knees I pad downstairs in search of Rick.

Yet I try to hide my disappointment when I only find Carl, whose not dressed up sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Hey, how come you aren’t dressed?” I questioned the Grimes son as I looked around for my heels.

“Hanging out with Enid,” his short reply came as I cried victoriously at the location of my black heels.

“Be responsible. Have you seen your father?” I asked.

Carl shook his head and I fought the uncalled anger bubbling up inside me. Wasn’t he going to walk you to Spencer’s house? “Oh okay, well if he comes by tell him I’m already at the party,” I call over my shoulder as I walk out the door.

Making my way down the street towards the Monroe house I meet up with Rosita and Abraham. “Hey,” I greeted as I fell into pace beside them. “Let’s get this over with yeah?”

Abraham preached as the three of you walked up the front porch stairs, knocking on the door to announce your arrival.

Opening the door Spencer’s eyes brighten as he saw you. “I’m so glad you could make it! You look absolutely beautiful,” he smiled as his eyes wandered over my body.

Smiling politely in return I stepped into the house, surveying the gathering of Alexandria’s mingling in search of Rick. I sighed in disappointment, hoping that he wouldn’t abandon me here when it was his idea to attend.

Quickly locating the table holding the booze I all but sped walked over to it, instantly downing a shot. I relished at the burning of the liquid. Wasting no time, I downed another two in quick succession, ignoring Abrahams reasoning to take it easy.

Seeing your determination to get plastered Rosita latched onto my arm and pulled me into the crowd to mind, despite my vocal protests.

She led me around the room introducing me to members whose names I’ve already forgotten.

Trying to manoeuvre my way back to the booze table, I was cut short when Spencer blocked my path. “Hi,” he greets cheerily.

Smiling up at him I try to move around him but he continues to block my path. Annoyed I spin around and find a corner that’s less crowded, all to aware of Spencer trailing after me.

“Not your kind of crowd?” He asks as he sips his drink, despite how rude it may come across I only grunt in response.

Spencer’s babbling off, reminiscing about his old birthday memories before the rise of the dead when I felt someone’s eyes on me. Looking around for the source my eyes lock with Rick and I feel the tension leak from my body, offering him a tentative smile that he reciprocates.

Eyes never straying from my boyfriends my feet move towards him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

That is until a beautiful blonde women approaches Rick and steps up into his space. Jealously rises in me as she steals his attention.

Unknown to you, Rick tries to politely end the conversation so he can make his way towards you to finally hold you in his arms after so long.

I pretended to listen to Spencer talk about his family, when in reality my mind never once shifted from Ricks. The way his attention instantly slid to that woman’s when she approached.

As Spencer begins to laugh, I threw my head back and laugh along with him although I had no idea what he was saying.

My eyes seem unable to leave Rick who’s in a deep conversation with the Alexandrian blonde. Jealousy bubbles in me. Yet I know it’s only a disguise for the hurt at the way he allows her to touch him.

I trusted Rick, I knew he wouldn’t cheat on me but my life before the dead starting walking kept that doubt in me.

Other boyfriends cheated on me, I’d given them everything and yet it hadn’t changed a thing. I knew Rick wasn’t like that but I couldn’t help the nagging fear.

“Sorry, Spencer. I really need some air,” I politely excuse myself as I begin to make my way out onto the front porch, avoiding any eye contact with Rick.

As I step out into the night air I finally feel as though I can breathe. Yet my moment of tranquility is interrupted when I hear a pair of familiar boots step out onto the porch with me.

“Hey,” Rick drawls, quietly, dare say almost hesitantly.

I ignore him as I admire the stars shining against the dark night. Irritation begins to boil when Rick continues to try to capture my attention.

“Everything okay? You seemed a little off when you left the gathering.”

As Rick steps up behind me, I feel my emotions boil over as I whirl around to face him.

“Are you serious?” I hissed out, trying not to make a scene. “I’m surprised you noticed when that blonde seemed to have you clinging onto her every word.”

Rick just blinks at me, confused and taken aback. When he doesn’t offer up any words I begin to stalk down the front steps, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed.

“Carls friends with her son. There’s nothing going on between us I promise-“

“Don’t,” I warn him, anger battling my tears as I cut off his excuses.

I didn’t want to listen to him try to defend himself. Making empty promises I was all too familiar with. Promises that meant nothing and never stopped them from repeating their actions.

“Just don’t. Don’t bother trying to crawl into bed whenever you decide to come home either,” I tell him at the bottom of the stairs.

I make out his furious gait as he strides towards me, grabbing my arm to force me to face him. “What about you and Spencer? Huh? I seen the way you laughed with him! As though he was soo interesting!”

“I was making my way to you! I haven’t seen you in so long, all I wanted was to spend the evening with you. Yet you seemed to prefer to have that bimbo hang of your arm!” I seethed as I ripped my arm from his grip.

“I work with Deanna, of course Spencer and I are going to friends. That’s all we’ve ever been and you would know that if you bothered to pay me any attention!”

I didn’t wait for a reply as I stalked away from, undeniably mad at the audacity of Rick throwing Spencer back in your face. As though I were the problem.

On my walk back to the house I shared with the Grimes, tears of frustration trailed down my face.

I tried to wipe them away when I unlocked the door, not wanting Carl to witness me in this state.

Yet at the discovery of the dark and quiet house I allow them to flow freely as I climb the stairs to our room.

I don’t even bother to change. Unbuckling my heels, they fall to the floor as I crawl into bed. New tears following the trail of the old.

I grab Ricks pillow, drawing it to my chest as I curl into a ball, hoping the darkness whisks me into a dreamless sleep.

Yet I wasn’t so lucky as I tossed and turned way into the night, my thoughts and emotions running rampant.

The argument that had ensued between Rick and I played like a record.

I began to feel as though I overreacted. My past got in the way of clear thoughts and my old fears brandished newly as I accused him, someone I wholly trusted.

I’d begun to make up my mind to apologise to him and explain to him tomorrow morning when I heard the front door open and close.

I held my breath as I listened to him pad around downstairs, organising his bed for the night.

Guilt rose again at the reality of not falling asleep beside him. Sighing I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed as I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable conversation.

As I padded down the stairs, I contemplated and replayed what I would say. How I could begin to make him understand my reaction.

“Rick?” I called out softly into the darkness, illuminated only by the moon shining in through the open blinds.

I heard the rustling of the blanket, encouraging me to step further into the living room. “Rick?”

“Yeah?” At his weary reply, I continued my journey to the couch. Sitting down beside him when he sat up to accommodate you.

“I’m sorry,” I began, palms sweaty.

“I overreacted. I didn’t mean to get so jealous. It’s just- my past relationships never ended well,” I tried to offer him a soft smile but found my lips uncooperative as I drug up the past.

“The recent one before the outbreak, I’d been so in love with him. Convinced he was the one I wanted to marry… except he wasn’t faithful.”

“I loved him more than he ever loved me. Loved him enough I didn’t read too much into the way he stayed out late. Welcomed the touch of other women at parties I accompanied him to,” I felt Ricks eyes on me.

“I overlooked a lot for love, until one night I finally caught him in bed with another woman. The way that girl touched you just reminded me of him, especially the way you didn’t nothing to fend her off.”

Ricks finger met my chin as he turned my head to face him. “Hey,” he whispered. “I tried to leave the conversation but she was so excited her son had another friend. Baby, I promise I have eyes for you, and you only,” he reassures me.

I saw the way his blue eyes burned brightly. The sincerity and honesty in them. I trusted this man, with my life. I pledged to myself that I’d grow to believe him.

“Okay,” I whispered before Rick leant forward and lightly pressed his lips against mine.

I felt relief blossom as Rick moved his lips against a mine, ever so softly. No rush. Just love igniting between the two of us.

When Rick pulled back, I felt myself become damp at the way he bit his bottom lip, eyes roving all over my face. Lust.

I climbed onto his lap, pushing him back into the couch as I latched onto his neck. Wanting to hear those delicious sounds that drove me wild but to also mark him for the other Alexandrian women to see.

Ricks hand grabbed onto mine thighs, massaging the exposed skin from my dress riding up as I bit down onto his neck before shooting it with my tongue.

A mewl slipped out to meet his groan as I sucked on his neck, brandishing his skin a dark red.

Abandoning his neck I reattached your lips as my fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing his back off the couch Rick slipped out of his button down, refusing to leave my lips.

My hands sprawled along his chest as I explored his skin, twirling his chest hair between my fingers.

Ricks hands fumbled to pull the dress over my head, discarding the forgotten fabric on the floor behind.

He separated from me to gaze down at my bare and flushed chest, gaze darkening as he took me in perched on top of him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, admiration coating his words.

I felt warmth fill my chest as I gazed back at the man who unknowingly held my heart in his hands.

I began to lift yourself off his lap, smiling softly when he started to protest and grab onto me.

Standing I started to slide my underwear down my legs, maintaining eye contact with Rick, whose eyes shone so bright in the moonlight casting down upon him.

Snapping out of his trance, Rick jumped into motion and unbuckled his pants, pulling them with his boxers down before he kicked them away from the couch.

“Come here, baby,” Rick beckoned me back into his lap softly.

When I settled back into my previous position, Rick kissed me again. I felt the urgency in the roaming of his hands but his lips were unhurried as they moved against mine.

There was no rush as I explored one another’s bodies, trying to feel as much of the others skin against my own.

Yet need began to build in anticipation at the feel of Rick, hard and pushing, against my stomach.

I pull back from him slightly, lifting my hips and grabbing ahold of him to hover above him.

The sight of Rick biting down on his bottom lip and gazing up at me through his long lashes pushes me down onto him.

Ricks eyes flutter close as I bottom out, sighing out in what sounds like a relief crossed with a groan. My own whimper slipping out to meet his as he stretches me.

“Jesus,” he groans out as he twitches inside me, as he hands knead my hips.

I lift myself up just to slide back down onto him, moaning out at the feeling of him. My pace never quickened as I savoured the feeling and sight of him beneath me.

“Rick,” I moan softly.

At that sound his eyes snap open and I squeal as he leans forward to wrap his arms around me to flip me over so he towers over me.

“I’m yours and you’re mine. It’s that simple,” he growls as he snaps his hips into mine.

I reach for him, plastering my lips against his as he molds his body onto mine. I loved the feeling of his body pressed all against me as he set a pace of hard but slow.

“Harder. Rick please,” I begged into his ear.

I lifted my leg to slip around his hip to better accommodate him and we both groaned at the feeling of him slipping deeper.

Ricks hips stuttered at the desperation I held for him but he obliged, slamming harder into me.

The sound of his throaty groans in my ear fueled the fire inside me

“Fuck. I’m… I’m yours baby, all yours,” he groaned as he bottomed out, slowly pulling out only to slam back into me.

I cry out when his brutal thrusts hit something inside of me that had me raking my nails down his back.

My voice reached a needier octave as Rick continued his assault on that same spot, lifting off me to hold himself above me.

He looked ethereal above me. The moon complimenting his ocean blue eyes as his bared his teeth.

The feeling of him slamming that special place and the sight of the sweat dripping from his curls plastered to his forehead, eyes fluttering every time he slammed his hips into mine had me shattering around him.

“Rick!” I screamed out as my back arched and stars exploded behind my eye lids.

Rick kept up his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm as I rode mine. “You’re.. fuck.. gonna make me come baby,” he groans out before he stills inside me.

I felt his hips slightly shake where he was pressed to me before he came undone, collapsing onto me as his whole body shuttered, riding out his high.

Sweat slicked bodies pressed against one another, I held him to me. Relishing in the weight of his body pressing against me.

@catt-leya so it took so long! 🤍

[shion-yu]

Taco Fiesta 2.0

Quick story for fun ft. @wussifer's OC Jack and my boy Cliff who are actual soulmates in another life <3 Based on this. 1,287 words, CW: food poisoning, emeto, mucho fluff.

Jack's love for questionably safe street food had gotten him in trouble more than once over the years. Cliff kept telling him to stay away from those stands but Jack's memory seemed only to last a few months before he took the plunge again. This time is was "Phil's Philly Steaks" and Jack thought the name was way too funny to pass up trying. 

Cliff groaned and tried to tug him along. "Jack, please, Leo's got dinner at home waiting for us," he tried, but it was hopeless. The call of street meat with a terrible pun was all too powerful. 

"It's fine," Jack said casually as he handed over a wad of ones. "I have a different stomach for this kind of thing."

"You do not," Cliff rolled his eyes. "Just don't come to me when it's 'Got Taco to the Fiesta' 2.0, alright?" 

"Sure, baby," Jack said cheerfully, accepting the giant paper plate overflowing with steaming Philly steak that he was handed. "Thanks man," he told the vendor and Cliff followed behind him to a nearby bench.

Cliff looked at Jack's purchase with distaste. "That looks like brains," he said. 

Jack took a big bite and hummed with satisfaction. "Delicious brains though. Wanna try?" 

"Absolutely not," Cliff said, pushing the forkful Jack was holding up away and sticking out his tongue. He waited as Jack miraculously devoured the entire meal and threw away the plate with a satisfied burp. "You're so gross," Cliff whined as Jack laughed and appologized. 

They took the train back home and made it to Leo's apartment without further incident. Jack's belly was sticking out a bit but true to his word, he managed to shove down a whole plate of dinner made by Leo, too. Cliff had no idea how his boyfriend had such a bottomless appetite but he figured at least Jack was eating enough for the both of them, given Cliff no longer ate my mouth. After dinner they went to Jack's room where Jack sat at his desk to study and Cliff watched videos on bed. 

Jack was still studying when Cliff got sleepy and turned in for the night. "Night Jackie," he said. Jack blew him a kiss and looked fondly at his little family on bed, made up of Cliff, one cat in his arms and one dog at his feet. He had about fifty of the same exact picture but he couldn't help but snap another one with his phone, they were just so cute. 

Around eleven, Jack's stomach started rumbling loudly. He rubbed it and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He had definitely eaten too much today, but it'd go down soon enough. Except an hour later, it certainly hadn't gone down and Jack felt even more bloated than before. He groaned and stood up, thinking maybe walking around would help. Did they have Tums in the bathroom? Jack located then and chewed two of the tablets. The chalky taste did the opposite of make him feel better and he realized very quickly that he was feeling nauseous. 

It was just too much food, he told himself. No way this was the tacos from three months ago 2.0. He hit his chest with his fist a few times and let out a loud belch that made his eyes water. He glanced at Cliff but his boyfriend was still sleeping soundly. The dog, however, was staring at him in startled disdain.

"Sorry Sabi," Jack said, rubbing his aching stomach. Sabi sniffed as if he understood and rested his head back down on Cliff's legs. 

Jack tried to go back to studying, but his stomach was really burning now and it felt like the words he was attempting to read were running all over the page. He had begun to sweat and groaned, pushing his chair away from the desk and pressing his forehead on the edge. He tried to breathe through the nausea but one thought about the neon yellow cheese sauce on that cheese steak today put him over the edge and he made a mad dash for the bathroom.

It was an absurd amount of food to have eaten, and it felt absurd coming back up. Jack threw up wave after wave of chunky, smelly vomit and swore to himself for probably the twentieth time that he'd listen to Cliff about the street food next time. After a few minutes it seemed like he was empty, and the dizziness was gone. Jack flushed the toilet and stood on shaky legs to wash his face and hands in the sink. He listened, but Leo's bedroom was too far away to hear and Cliff seemed to have manage to sleep through it despite the occasional very loud moan that had come out of him. 

Jack returned to the desk in his room, hoping that was it. Going back to studying turned out to be a no go though and Jack gave up quickly, crawling into bed next to Cliff and resting his head on Cliff's chest. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The attempt lasted about fifteen minutes before Jack was launching himself back into the bathroom for round two. That solidified it - it wasn't just overeating and Phil's Philly Steak was most certainly the culprit. Jack threw up until there really wasn't anything left but stomach acid. It took him another ten minutes to gather the strength to stand up and wash up again, spraying some air freshener on his way out to mask the putrid smelling combo of fry oil mixed with puke. 

Jack stumbled back to bed and lay down, clutching his stomach with a loud groan. Cliff didn't look so cute asleep anymore. He looked annoyingly peaceful while Jack was going through cheese steak purgatory. Jack shook his shoulder, whining. "Cli-ifffff." 

Cliff twitched and opened his eyes, squinting at Jack cluelessly. "What?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"I threw up," Jack said pathetically. 

"Oh, sorry baby," Cliff mumbled, reaching for Jack and pulling him close. "Do you... need... Zzzz." Aaaaand he was asleep again. Jack sighed and cuddled against Cliff anyways. Cliff tended to be fairly useless between the hours of ten PM and eight AM unless Jack really set off the alarms, but he wasn't going to do that for another round of food poisoning by stupidity. 

"Thanks Cliff, you're so comforting," Jack muttered. Cliff's arms did feel nice though, and before Jack knew it his eyes had begun to sag closed. "Love you," he said.

The next morning there'd be plenty of time for scolding and then coddling and rubbing Jack's back as he threw up again. But at least until morning, the two of them managed to sleep - one much deaper than the other. 

"You should've woke me up," Cliff said the next morning while serving Jack plain toast in bed, hoping it would ease Jack's stomach cramps.

"I did," Jack said.

"Really?" Cliff asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face. "Sorry. I don't remember."

"It's okay," Jack said. "I'll forgive you if you make me a good Philly cheese steak at home."

Cliff made a face of disbelief. "Jack, you cannot seriously want to eat right now," he said.

"Not now! Later. To erase the taste of the poisonous version from my memory," Jack said.

Cliff shook his head. "Maybe you should try and remember the poisonous one next time you want street food," Cliff said. But then Jack gave him such kicked puppy dog eyes that he added, "Okay, I'll do it, just listen to me next time, please?" 

Jack grinned, gave Cliff innocent doe eyes and said with an incredible amount of confidence, "I always listen to you!"

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

The lost episode of Mortimer's Handeemen

Disclaimer: This is a creepypasta meant to be a just-for-fun Halloween thingy. I did not go all the clichés. I now just find most of them silly, but I know there are some good ones. This creepypasta is not connected to any AU and is more of an internet story that would appear in the games in the 1990s to 2010s with some speculation about whether it's real or if the one who posted it was a troll or did it for entertainment.

Either way, happy halloween! Enjoy ^^

TW: for blood, scary imagery, horror, creepypasta, body horror, and gore

[An audio log is found. A mysterious person presses it. The message start.]

H-Hello?

[It appears to be a young teenager. Her voice is groggy and whispery, you can hear her heavy breathing]

I...I hope you can hear me or...well rather listening to this audio log.

I'm trapped, and I can't get out...I can't remember well how I got in, but I can tell you what I know of my current location and well my personal state.

[There was a long pause and heavy breathing. In the background there were some steps and scratches at the distance.]

T-they're looking for me....

[It appears that she is muttering to herself. After another long period of silence, she begins to speak once again.]

Sorry...I'm not exactly in a situation where I can easily tell my story. I'm c-currently hiding in some domain of the studio.... T-the Handeemen Studio to be exact. The one that got burned down and close.

[She let out another long pause as footsteps in the distance could be heard.]

I am not supposed to be here. I am supposed to be in the testing rooms, or I think it was the testing rooms. Perhaps I did die and I am a ghost... No. They are looking for me. I must be alive...

[A door shuts and the mysterious girl lets out some heavy breathing.]

I think they left. Hopefully.

[She breathes once again. Her voice is hearing a bit close to the voice recorder.]

I...I don't remember much. I can't remember my family, if I had one, nor my age. I can't recall my own face, or my own name. I think It was Jessica Parker....or was it Jessica Drew? No...maybe it was Siobhan Drew or Siobhan Parker.... It must be one of those names. They are familiar to me, but I can't remember who belong to who. I do remember they were part of a story. The story of how I got here. That is the story that I can't seem to forget, and probably the reason why I am recording this. I may never remember it or probably would get killed for running away. So...I guess I am recording this now in hopes anyone finds it.

[There was another long pause and a sigh followed after.]

I suppose I can't remain nameless for the rest of this recording. I don't want to remain nameless as I don't remember my name of who am I. But....but I think I used to be called "Jay." It's written on my wrist, or well is smeared with my own blood and I can see is either "Jay" or "J 4 Y." I used to have some writing on my arms and legs, they are smeared and I can't decipher what it was or why it was written. The only thing readable was the "Jay" or "J 4 Y." You can call me Jay. After all it does sound like a name, and I do love the idea of having a name...even if it's not my own name....since I can't remember. But....but I do remember one name. It's Jordan. No last name since I can't recall. Jordan was a kid I used to babysit...or I think I did. I used to watch him. I do recall a lady who was his guardian or mom I don't remember her name. I think it was either one of the possible names I mentioned before.

She'll be just Jordan's mom. It makes it easier for me to remember, and she no longer becomes a nameless face in what remains of my memory. So...Jordan's mom usually called me to watch over Jordan. I think I was his babysitter. I can't remember. She often had to go to work, and we spent hours upon hours doing homework, playing, and...watching TV He...he had a favorite show. A puppet show, some sort of Muppet's knockoff....or was it Sesame Street? It was a cancelled show from a closed down and burnt down studio. The same studio I am trapped here today Mortimer's Handeemen. The thing that got me where I am today. My own nightmare, and the parasite that is taking away my life and memories.

[There was a small pause. Jay was oddly silent. It was almost as if she was taking a time to recompose herself.]

I can remember how did they use to look like. They looked friendlier, happy, and almost as if they never thought about harming anyone. What a crude lie. I see them every day. They are mean, and they like to sew puppets into my arms. I can feel the pain, and then I feel asleep and wake up with no memory.

It's an endless cycle. Every day, I remember less and less about myself. My memories are snapping moments in time. I can't remember how long or when they happened. But I do remember the handeemen from the episodes. I remember them so vividly, and their hyperrealistic faces that were captured into my memories. I saw them permanent smiles. They made Jordan happy ...or I think they did.

He loved the show. It was no longer on aired, but he managed to get some merchandise, VHS tapes of the episode, specials, and shorts. He owned the figures of the main group and the dog. I...I think his favorite was the dog or the artistic guy, Nick Nack. I remember seeing them in a lot of the episodes Jordan and I used to watch. Or maybe it's because I have vivid snapping memories of a hyperrealistic dog made out of humans parts. Large teeth filled with blood, a red eyes staring at me, and his killer bloody paws that could maul anyone within reach.

[Jay pauses momentary.]

Sorry, I lost track of myself.

My mind keeps flooding with memories and...I keep forgetting why am I here sometimes. Not...not how I got here, but rather why am I hiding again...

I know I don't have much time...so it's better if I finish my story. That if I actually have time as they might get me soon...

[There is another period of silence. Jay gets close one again. Her voice is trembly.]

J-Jordan adored the show, and we watch it like a lot. Eventually, we ran out of episodes, and Jordan was getting tired of watching them.

This is where it gets a bit blurry for me. I can recall caring for Jordan, and I am sure I bought him a VHS tape.

But...but the thing is I can't remember why I bought it.

I think he asked me if there were unseen episodes to watch, or I wanted to surprise him.

I was talking to who I believe was my boyfriend. I don't remember his name, so he'll remain as "boyfriend." There is also this other guy involved, so he'll be called "Guy."

So...Boyfriend told me about Guy. He was in his 20s I think. He loved to break into abandoned places for loot, which...also included the abandoned studio.

According to Guy, he didn't break into the studio as often. He got inside like three times I believe or from what I can actually remember.

One of these times, he found a mysterious VHS in the late creator's office. I can't tell if that was a stretch to be cool, or if he actually went in there. Either way, the VHS was a very real thing.

The episode was a never seen or aired episode. The episode was called "Mortimer's Handeemen and the mysterious Meteorite." In the back there was a note saying "PROTOTYPE. DO NOT PLAY" but Guy did play it for some testing before putting it on sale.

I knew that Jordan would love it, so I bought the VHS tape for about 20 or 10 bucks. I remember doing some bargaining. I can't remember the exact price, but I got a sweet deal and immediately brought it to Jordan.

We turned on the TV and placed the tape. The episode started with Mortimer staring with his permanent smile. There was so music. Only a dreadful silence. I didn't have too much importance, and took the VHS out and in thinking the episode froze.

Then, the episode started with Mortimer greeting the audience. He sounded less cheerful than usual. He was introducing the fictional place where the Handeemen lived....but he was rather staring almost as if he could see us. I ignored thinking it was just a prototype error.

Eventually the main theme started. It was very slowed down, and the music sounded off-key. We figured it was due to the age of the VHS tape and continued watching the episode. It started normal with one of the kids finding a strange rock and calling the Handeemen about it.

Then, things started to get odd. The tape suddenly stopped and looped over when the Handeemen were picking up the meteorite. Suddenly the TV went black, almost as if someone turned off....but it was still on and the VHS tape was running.

The screen turned on and showed an empty room. It was silent, but I could feel something was lurking over. I turned off and on the TV. The normal episode was on. I rewind the tape, but everything was as if the image was not there. We continued watching the episode thinking it was a glitch.

Or so we thought...

As the episode progressed. The handeemen sounded less friendly. They sounded annoyed and furious. Their eyes were slowly becoming red. Then they went back to normal as if nothing happened.

I was getting nervous as this was starting to look less of a malfunction and more of a prank. I left the room to call Guy and ask him what was this all about. He was confused and told me that never happened before.

Suddenly I heard a scream. It was Jordan. I hung up and rushed to the living room. He was curled up and crying as he begged me to turned it off. I was confused, so I watched at the TV to see what was going on.

[Jay gives out a long pause. Growling can be heard from the outside. Her breath can be heard again, until the growling fades.]

Sorry... there were puppets nearby...

Where was I?

Oh yes...

When I looked back at the TV, I saw hyperrealistic man. He had a horrified expression and seemingly was rotting. He was sitting on a chair...but he was cut in half and was bleeding. He had mitten sewn into his hands, as I could see the bloody stiches.

It was almost as it was a real thing going on, as if the camara was live. It was horryfing.

Jordan began to scream and begged me to put it away. The channel began to fave, as numerous symbols and strange words began to appeared. I tried to turn off the TV but the off and on button nor the controller were working.

Suddenly a raspy voice began to muttered "I C U" just as the image of the man cut in half was getting closer. Before anything else could happened, I unplugged the TV and everything shut down.

Jordan was upset and terrifed as ever. It was within very good reaons. I did my best to calm him down and told him that I will get to the bottom of this. He decided to go outside and play with his friends. I called Boyfriend, and then called Guy.

When they arrived, Jordan was drawing on the floor. Boyfriend and I confronted Guy about the tape. He swore he never tampered with it. I took him to the living room and plugged the TV back. The episode runned down normally to my surprised.

Jordan eventually sat down and watch it as Guy told me I was crazy and to never contact him again. He left leaving Jordan and I confused. Boyfriend tried to be suportive, and telling me it was propbably some prank in bad taste.

[Jay pauses. It appears she needed a momment to think.]

I do like to think that was the case, but reality turned to be another. Now I am stuck here. Loosing my memory and myself eventually... Alone. A lab rat And-

[Jay pauses before sighing]

Sorry. I lost track again.

I....we....

Jordan. I talked to Jordan about the situation. I told him that this was either a malfunction or a prank from Guy. He felt unsure, but decided to trust my word. That's what I can remember most about the event.

I know that I ended up staying watching for the night. I cannot assure you wether it was on that same night or if a few days pased. All I know was that Jorda's Mom had aked me to stay overnight to watch her son.

And then, that was when things started to get spooky and unsettling...

Jordan was in his room asleep. I just tucked him in, and I was helping Jordan's mom to clean the kitchen. The phone began to rang and I picked up thinking it was probably Jordan's mom asking me if Jordan was okay.

When I picked up the phone....there was silence and a breathing.

"Hello?" I said, thinking this was some bad connection.

"Have you checked on the kid yet?" My blood went cold as shivers sent right down my spine. I dropped the phone and ran towards Jordan's room.

He was still in his bed asleep. I checked around to see if there was anything off. When I was sure he was safe, I left the room and picked up the phone.

"He's alright." That was the lat thing I said when I hung up.

15 minutes, I recieved the same call.

"Have you checked on the kid yet?" I once again dropped the phone and checked on Jordan.

He was alright, and I hung up the phone refusing to answer the question this time. The mysterious guy called again but I hung up as soon as I heard his voice, and went directly to check on Jordan.

After a while, I decided to leave the door open and keep an eye if anything happened. The same mysterious person kept calling for about 20 minutes. I hung up each of his calls, and he eventually stopped.

I started to slowly doze off. It was getting pretty late, but part of me remained unsettled about the mysterious calls. I doze off momentarily before the phone rang. I hesitated to pick it up, fearing it was the mysterious caller.

To my surprise and relief, it was Jordan's mom. She was calling to check if Jordan was alright.

"He's just in bed. Everything is fine, ma'am." I said just as I heard the TV turning on, and the Handeemen's playing. I ended the conversation and hung up.

I was upset. I figured that Jordan woke up and tried to sneak into watching another episode. When I entered the living room, my skin went pale. The episode I brought from guy was playing, but there was no one watching it.

I took the TV remote and tried to turn off the TV or stop the player. Neither of them worked, but their batteries were still on. I tried to manually turned them off, but it was useless. Then...I tried to unplug the TV.

"This should do it." I thought to myself.

The episode continued to play as if nothing had happened.

Terrified, I tried to remove the tape but what happened next, left me paralyzed in fear.

The screen went back, and then showed Guy being strapped into a bed. His eyes were swollen and he was screaming. Suddenly, the scientist puppet, Riley, entered the room. She had a twisted smile and her eyes were glowing red. In her left hand, she had a saw.

I could not feel my body as I was too horrified to move. I saw Riley slowly approaching guy as she maniatically laughed.

"You'll become one of us!" She said just as she slowly began to press the saw into Guy's torso and slowly cuting him off as blood dropped.

The screen went back, and the next picture was a twisted and bloody Mortimer staring at the screen with a teacup filled with blood and the letters I, C, and U underneath.

The picture then changed to a video of Nick. He was in his art room. His face was melting so hyperrealistic, that it almost looked as if he was bleading. He was sobbing uncontrollably as he strocked some abstract painting of black and red.

The screen went black, and then Daisy appeared on what is seemed to be a kitchen. She was humming to herself as she baked a pie made out of human organs. My stomatch twirled up as I could see Guy's eyes into the mix.

The screen shut down as I stood there trembling as the phone began to ring. I walk towards it and pick up with trembling hands.

"Have you checked on the kid yet?" It was the same mysterious caller as before. I dropped the phone and ran towards Jordan's room.

The bed was empty and he was nowhere to be found.

I picked up the phone and I cried "WHO ARE YOU? WHERE IS HE?"

There was no answer, and no sign of the caller. Then the call disconected and the phone disconnected completely. I dropped the phone, and rushed towards the living room when I heard sobbing.

The place was empty, but the TV had a distrubing picture. It was the same mysterious human puppet man, but now where was Guy accompaning him. His eyes were gone and he was bleeding. He had sewn mittens into his hands, and just as the mysterious man, his upper body was sitting on a bleeding chair.

There was some silent sobbing as the background, but my eyes focused on the message underneath the figures...

"HELP ME" Underneath was the direction to the abandoned studio.

Fearing that Jordan was taken by those puppets, I left the house and rode on my bike into the studio. After I came in, I broke inside and desperately began to look for Jordan.

[Jay's voice trails off as she starts to become uneased.]

I-I couldn't find him, but I heard noices from the outside. I feared that they were outside...a-and went down deeper. Then someone struck me in the head and everything became a blurr.

I heard the voices of Jordan's mom, Boyfriend, the police, and Jordan looking for me outside. I doze off as they shut down.

I woke up on a lab with a puppet sewn into my hand, and then I lost my memory slowly and began to forget who am I or where am I, just remembering the evil faces of the puppets and how I got here.

Now, this the only chance I got to store what becomes of my memory. If you find this, that means that I am dead...or if miracously you found me with no memory.

Either way, please find the VHS and destroy it. No one should have ever seen the lost episode, and become a victim like I or Guy became.

[The tape ends as Riley Ruckus tosses it aside , scoffing, before returning to work. Not realizing that a mysterious man is staring at the tape from afar. His plaque, reading JORDAN]

---

HAPPY HALLOWEEN AND I WISH YOU A VERY SPOOKY DAY!

~ With care, Phantom <3

[staticscreenwriting]

maybe the night would take me home II Frankie Morales

Part 1 : "Divorce And The American South"  & "The Thunderbird Inn"

a Frankie Morales Story inspired by the album  "We Don't Have Each Other" by  Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties.

A/N : This imagine series will deal with sensitive topics please see my tags for TW. Please proceed with caution. Also there’s mention of smoking and alcohol. English is not my native language, go easy on me please. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated

There's a hole in the wall and a square where the wallpaper is a lighter shade of beige than the rest. There probably used to be a painting or a mirror. The ceiling fan is missing one of its blades and there's a huge rip in the ugly brown curtain that's blocking the street lights from flooding the room.

He can just about make out the glow coming from the street light in front of his window. There used to be more color permeating the thin curtains and throwing kaleidoscope patterns into his motel room but people have started to take down their Christmas lights leaving him with just the ugly yellow of the street lamp.

The motel room is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks it's fitting because that's exactly how he feels and really, he doesn’t mind it all that much.

The clerk at the front desk, he wants to say his name is Steve, is nice, and always pours him a cup of coffee whenever he finds Frankie sitting in the tiny lobby area of the Motel where the vending machines are. The coffee isn’t good but it’s warm and that’s enough these days.

“Long night?” he asks and every time Frankie nods and says “Sure has been.” Steve then grants him one of those smiles that lets you know the person is looking straight through your lie but they’re way too nice to call you out on your bullshit. 

“Well, tomorrow’s a new day. Hope that one is better,” he replies, every time.

Frankie nods again knowing full well it won’t be.

He’s given Frankie a break on the rent this week. 

“Look don’t you worry about it. Just make sure you pay me back with next week’s rent. I know you’re good for it.” 

“I probably am.” 

Steve was laughing then. He probably won’t laugh when he hears that Frankie’s coming up short again this week.

Back in his tiny motel room, his clammy hands grab the room's phone tightly. It will probably cost him a fortune to use it — again — though after throwing it against a solid brick wall, his cell phone is but a piece of junk left somewhere by the side of the truck stop. 

He doesn't really need it anyway. Too many pictures and memories and shit he doesn't want to think about because he can’t get it back.  

He takes another sip from the bottle. He thinks it's whiskey but he might be wrong. It all tastes the same these days.

Calling her won’t do any good and he knows but he can't help himself. It's like an itch that he just has to scratch. It's like a desperate need that he has to satisfy. It's like an addiction he has to feed.

It's 2 in the morning and she's most likely asleep and Frankie hates himself for waking her up. She's lost enough sleep as it is. But his mind is so loud and he needs to get all of these things off his chest. All the things he didn't say when he should have, when it counted, when it meant something, when she needed him to.

It's not the first time he's called either. He wonders if she'll ever pick up.

There's a perfectly clear picture burned into his mind of the first time he'd called her after he left. He had been stranded at some run-down truck stop that could've been the perfect location for the first kill in a horror movie. There was a bottle of water in his hand and the phone receiver in the other.

He can't recall how long he'd spent inside the phone booth reading her number out loud and trying to work up the courage to call her but he knows it's been quite a while. And when he did he was met with the dial tone. With every beep his heart sunk a little further, felt a little heavier.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Her voice sounded so cheery and he remembers the tears threatening to leave his eyes at the sound of it. She hadn't sounded this cheery in a long long time and his heart broke knowing that was partially his fault.

" Hey Y/N, It's me .... Frankie. If you’re listening can you please pick up the phone? I know you're home. "

He could still recall her daily schedule better than anything, after all, they had been living together for years.

" I know where I went wrong. I really do. I uh— I'm at a truck stop. Not sure where I'm going yet but I'll call you. Please talk to me, baby. I love you. "

He remembers his heart breaking and breaking more and shattering and it hasn't been fixed yet. There's that little cynical corner of his brain that tells him it never will be fixed. All good things come to an end sooner or later and this is THE good thing in his life. She is the best thing. She was the chance he never thought he’d get. A shot at redemption.

That other day he found a bar just outside the township line. He goes most every night now whenever he can feel a bad night coming. All nights are bad nights now. The floors are sticky and the bar is dusty but the drinks are cheap and the barkeeper doesn’t bother to get him tangled up in any kind of conversation. All Frankie gets is a look of pity as he pours him another drink. Fuck, he didn’t know that he looks that pathetic. 

The alcohol doesn’t numb his heart the way it used to. Back when he woke up in a cold sweat with visions of a life he tried so hard to leave behind he could always count on the inside of a bottle to make the demons disappear for a while. Then when that stopped working, the drugs managed to do it. 

And then when he hit rock bottom, for some inexplicable reason, life chose to send him her and she made every other coping mechanism pale in comparison. Her love did not make the demons go away, or the fear, or the guilt. Her love made him realize that he could live a good life regardless. That even the worst parts of him are worthy of love. 

He thinks she might’ve been wrong.

There's a half-empty pack of cigarettes laying on the nightstand. He hasn't touched them for a while. Got them at that same truck stop where he smashed his phone but only smoked half a pack before he remembered that promise he made her a long time ago, back when she had first told him, back when they were happy.

And he failed. Because for a while he’d felt like the reason he stopped smoking in the first place had vanished. If there was no one to promise something to, was there even a promise to begin with? 

The cigarettes bring back memories of the second time he'd called her. It was right after he arrived here, at this very same motel. With the very same peeling wallpaper and the chipped door and the ceiling fan that is missing one blade and the carpet with the burn marks. The same motel he is basically succumbing in right now.

He was less nervous the second time he'd called her, less nervous but more fucked up. Half drunk on cheap whiskey and half drunk on the infinite sadness he's felt ever since their life went to shit.

This time he didn't make himself believe she'd pick up. He knew she wouldn't and maybe that was a good thing. Frankie didn't want her to know he was shitfaced, that he tried to numb the pain with past vices he promised to leave behind.

" Hey Y/N "

As the words rolled off his lips there was no doubt in his mind that she'd still know. He sounded drunk. He hated it.

" Just wanted to tell you that uh — I uh I've been trying to quit. I went from a pack and a half a day to this e-cigarette bullshit. "

It had been a stupid idea, thinking this e-cigarette shit would do anything for him but it was worth a try. Everything was worth a try for her.

" It stops the coughing fits. I know that you always hated my smoking habit. I hope you can be a little proud of me. I know I don't deserve it. I love you, bye."

There was a time, Frankie thinks and scoffs, when he thought love was enough. What a fool he'd been. Now he knows that's all proper bullshit.

It isn't like he doesn't love her, he loves her entirely too much for his own good. 

It's that too much love can destroy you. It eats you up from the inside out.

He can't keep himself from loving her though, and from holding onto that little spark of hope that she might still love him back. After all they've been through, all they had to endure, the thought that she might one day forgive him and love him again was the only thing still keeping him afloat. Without her, he'd sink. And maybe, he thinks, maybe love is enough. It's enough to make him go on.

There's a fly buzzing around the room, sitting down on Frankie’s arm from time to time. He doesn't have the energy to swat her away.

A little voice in his mind wonders what would happen if he just kept laying here. Maybe if he only lays here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat him alive. Maybe the night will swallow him and take him home. Maybe she’ll come looking for him.

His mind wanders off to places he tried hard to forget. To the tears and the pain and the way she didn't yell at him. Not once.

She didn't scream or yell or throw stuff at him. She just stared and let it all wash over her as if she was invincible.

He knew she wasn't. Knows she isn’t now. She wasn't invincible but she was too deeply wounded to care anymore and that was the most terrifying part of it all.

He wanted her to yell so he knew she still cared.

He thinks of the dream and how he saw himself, lifeless, alone. How everyone was looking at him as they lowered his casket into the ground. How his friends were there, his brother, his family, and even the neighbors. Not her though. She wasn't there.

His fingers are dialing the familiar numbers before he can even fully register what's happening.

There's the dial tone that he's grown to know so well lately. Three more and he gets to hear her voice.

Two.

One.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Lies. She won’t call back. But that's okay, he understands why she doesn’t. Why she can’t.

" Y/N It's me again. Frankie. "

He combs his fingers through his hair nervously.

" Of course, it's me, who else would call you at this time? I'm sorry. "

He's been saying sorry an awful lot lately. Especially considering the fact that he hasn't been very generous with that word when it really mattered.

" I had a dream. About you. Well not exactly about you. Actually, you weren't in it and that's kind of the problem. "

Remembering the dream sends a cold shiver down his back.

" I uh — I was on a plane. I flew back north, no idea where I wanted to go. All I know is that I didn't make it there. Plane went down like it was made of paper. They were all at the funeral. My funeral. Everyone. Not you though. You — You weren't there Y/N. That scares me. I hope you'd come to the funeral. I'd want you there. "

He knows it's time. She's not gonna pick up anytime soon so this might be his only chance of ever getting to admit his faults of ever talking about the actual problem, the root of all the pain and heartbreak. It's not face-to-face but it's the next best thing. It's his only shot.

" Y/N, I know I fucked up. I do know. It's just after it happened. After — "

Saying it out loud will make it real. It will break his heart once again. He's an adult though and has been running from his issues long enough. This stupid urge to flee made this all so much worse.

Take a breath.

And face the reality.

" After it happened. When we lost the baby I just, I shut off. I shut you out and I am so sorry. I just, I needed to be strong for you but I wasn't. All I did was push you away. I never listened. I wasn't there. I should've been there for you to help you get through this but I was too busy keeping myself from bursting at the seams. Fuck, I was so selfish. If I could change the way I treated you, treated the situation, trust me I would. I would. I miss her so much Y/N and I never even got to meet her and I didn't want to put this all-consuming sadness on you so I pulled away. I didn't want to make you hurt even more than you already were but that's exactly what I did and I will never forgive myself for that. I hope you can though. I love you so much. "

There's a hole in his chest the size of a newborn.

It's the size of a little baby girl he never got to meet. A little baby girl he always imagined would have his eyes and her mother's breathtaking smile. A little baby girl he'd raise to be brave and generous and smart and wonderful. 

There is a hole in his chest the size of a little baby girl and he knows it will never fully heal.

He should've been there for her, his wife, the mother of his child. He had tried so hard, so hard to hide his sadness and pain from her instead of embracing it with her by his side. He should've been there with her so they could hold each other above the waters. But he let her drown by herself and he would never fully forgive himself for that.

" I love you Y/N and I'm coming home soon I promise. That's if you still want to see me. I won't let you go through the darkness alone anymore though. I love you. "

He hangs up the phone and without a warning, the tears roll down his cheeks. They're the silent kind, the painful kind. But for once, since it all happened they're not entirely from sadness, a small part of him is feeling a little lighter now that he's faced reality. A small part of him cries tears of relief. A small part of him still believes that maybe things with his wife can work out again if only he can show her how much he cares and loves her. That he can hold her hand even through the darkest of times.

A small part of him knows that it can't get worse than this.

A small part of him, a small part knows she loves him back. Even with that gray cloud hanging over him reminding him of the paperwork that might be waiting for him at home. 

There's a hole in the wall and a square where the wallpaper is a lighter shade of beige than the rest. There probably used to be a painting or a mirror. The ceiling fan is missing one of its blades and there's a huge rip in the ugly brown curtain that's blocking the street lights from flooding the room.

is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks that things can only get better from here on out.

It’s 2am when he sneaks out of his room and past the lobby. Steve will forgive him, he’s sure of it. For the two weeks' rent and for not saying goodbye. 

The world is fast asleep as his car takes him down the empty streets towards the bar he found some resemblance of comfort in for the last few weeks.

One last drink, he tells himself. But this one won’t be for the bad days ahead. This one will mark a page turned, a step taken.

“Whiskey?” the barkeeper inquires, already pulling the bottle from the shelf. 

“Gimme a beer instead. Whatever bottles you have in the fridge is fine.” 

No more words are exchanged as the barkeeper hands Frankie the cold bottle.

This one’s for the daughter he’ll never meet, he thinks, and the wife who shouldn’t love him no more but god does he hope and pray she still does. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

He’s got half a tank of gas left and as soon as the bottle is empty he’ll make his way home.

Not the motel. 

Home. Their apartment.

And he’ll face whatever is waiting there for him. 

That’s the thing about losing everything — things can only get better from here on out.

[ruvviks]

Chapter >> 17 [x] Characters >> Cato Wu (oc), Eddie Wolfe (oc), Lauren Dimas (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Panam Palmer, Rogue Amendiares, Viktor Vektor, Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc) Total >> 9.2k Warnings >> Blood, chess mention :/, death, injuries, irresponsible driving, violence

‘Hey- Get up. Can’t have you dying on me now.’

The constant, gentle beeping of a nearby heart monitor slowly woke Cato from her slumber, the noise reminiscent of her alarm yet she did not even have to open her eyes to know that this was anything but an ordinary morning; if it was even morning to begin with.

She inhaled deeply, eyes moving behind eyelids and head heavy on the questionable-quality pillow of the unfamiliar bed she found herself in; a weight pressing down on her chest, keeping her locked in position, even the slightest of movement burning painfully through her muscles.

Where the fuck am I?

Cato only remembered flashes.

A car chase- no, she had been on a motorcycle- a stolen one, no less, racing through the streets of Northside in the middle of the night after yet another failed attempt to get help, trying to-

Trying to-

She groaned, memories from seemingly another lifetime flooding back into her mind and her chest painfully tightened, sudden fear overtaking her. Had they finally captured her, now? After everything she’d done- every precaution she had taken to get them off her trail, all the cut ties, all the words left unspoken-

Another deep inhale. It did not smell like a hospital, wherever she was; it did not smell like any of their medbays, or a Trauma Team ambulance, or any other corporate location for that matter. The vague smell of blood and sweat lingered around her, mixed with bleach, some sort of disinfectant-

It stung a bit.

Finally Cato opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light of some lamp pointed directly at her face. She slowly let her gaze trail the room- oh, yeah, a ripperdoc, alright- past cold concrete walls, a surgery chair, makeshift medical equipment and a cluttered desk in the corner on her far right, until she found two figures; one sitting on a stool, the other leaning against the wall.

She did not recognize either of the two men; that was, until the one standing took a few steps closer upon noticing she was awake. Her heartbeat instantly spiked and she jolted up- but her vision faded instantly and with that she sank back down onto the surgery bed she was-

Handcuffed to?

‘Standard procedure,’ the man said, gesturing at Cato’s wrist before running his hand through his short, bleached hair. ‘My apologies. It is always tricky to determine if a merc is going to resort to violence once awake or not.’

‘I’ll fuck you up,’ Cato spat before she could stop herself, her voice hoarse as it left her lips- words scraping past raw throat and it caused her to cough, the raspy noise echoing through the room.

‘I don’t doubt that for a second.’ A pause, as Vitali Dobrynin reached into his pocket and took out a key, then reached for Cato’s wrist and- respectfully keeping his hands to himself- freed her from her restraints.

‘Cato Wu,’ he said, grabbing a chair from the side of the room and setting it down next to the surgery bed while Cato slowly sat up a second time, carefully now, allowing the dizziness to settle before she moved any further.

‘How’d you know my name?’

‘I have my ways.’

‘Right- fixer.’

‘Do I sense contempt?’

Cato sucked in her cheeks and raised her hand, mockingly putting her thumb and the tip of her index finger a mere millimeter apart. ‘Thiiis much. Pinky promise.’

Perhaps not her wisest decision- mocking a fixer like that only inches away from his face. And not just any fixer, either; a new face on the big stage in town, sure, and not nearly as famous- or infamous- as Rogue Amendiares or Dexter DeShawn, but one making his way to the major leagues quicker than anyone ever before.

Of course Cato had heard of him. She had gone looking for him to ask for his help, for fuck’s sake.

She watched carefully as Vitali’s eyes trailed over her face, scanning every little detail- reading her, and she slightly straightened her back in response. No one said anything; and instead it was merely the sound of the heart monitor filling the space around them, Cato’s heartbeat once more steady now that she had calmed down.

‘You have quite some history, from what I could gather,’ the fixer finally spoke, slowly leaning back in his chair as the corner of his mouth slightly pulled up. ‘Active in security since age 17- and now on the run from Kang Tao, no less.’

‘Nothin’ I can’t handle.’

‘I’ve sent some of my people after the squads. They won’t find you here.’

‘Wasn’t concerned.’

‘Of course not.’

Unbothered by her attitude, playing along- yet playfully so, and Cato finally relaxed a little bit as the other man in the small ripperdoc clinic wheeled himself over as well, moving around her to carefully unplug the medical equipment from the port in her neck.

‘Take it easy the next couple days, alright?’ he said. ‘Hit your head pretty hard in the fall. Your helmet caught most of the impact and took most of the damage, but-’

His voice trailed off and Cato immediately glanced into the rest of the room again, her eyes finding- well, what remained of her motorcycle helmet, sitting on top of the desk in the corner.

‘You got lucky, kid.’

Wouldn’t be the first time.

A sharp exhale left her nostrils as she redirected her attention to Vitali, who had not taken his eyes off her for even a second; alert, still, perhaps waiting for her to do something now that she was no longer held down by the handcuffs and the cord in her neck. Their gazes met in the middle, and he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees as he tilted his head in a questioning manner.

‘You were calling out for me, when my mercs found you,’ he said and Cato instantly lowered her gaze again, glad the monitor beside her no longer showed her heartbeat. ‘Said you needed to speak with me.’

‘I need protection,’ she cut him off, turning on the bed to let her feet dangle down and she placed her hands on either side of her body, shoved underneath her thighs.

‘I can work. Do gigs for you, provide security- hell, you’ve done your homework. Seen my resume. Whatever you need, can get started whenever, just- I don’t think I can stay ahead of ‘em for much longer.’

Oh, how she hated to admit it.

Had done fine for months- but she was tired, slipping up left and right, and Kang Tao had not given up on her just yet for whatever fucking reason and it was driving her up the walls. She had no idea if her old squad was still out there, if they were even still alive; and had no way to check it either, each and any attempt to reach out a risk for all parties involved.

‘Endurance hunting,’ Vitali said, a sudden sharp edge to his voice that had not been there before. ‘Running you to exhaustion- minimal effort for them over a longer period of time, while your whole life falls apart around you until there’s nothing left and you are right for the taking. They’re good at that.’

‘Sounds like you know what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Better than you can probably imagine.’ He paused, jaw slightly clenching as he straightened his back. ‘It’s a good thing you decided to reach out. I think we can help each other.’

Not the first fixer Cato had spoken to- but the first to not tell her no. His words slowly settled in her brain and the look on her face must have told him enough, because he merely smiled in return and slowly stood up again.

‘Go home, for now,’ he said, the rings around his irises lighting up bright blue as a location in the north of Wellsprings popped up in Cato’s view. ‘Get some rest. Visit my office when you are feeling better, and we will get you relocated to a safehouse and discuss business, yes? Vik- You can put the costs on my tab.’

‘One step ahead of you, Vito.’

‘Full price, this time, I hope?’

‘Eh- returning customer discount.’

‘I’ll…allow it this time.’

Cato was no longer listening to them, a strange sense of relief washing over her to the point she suddenly noticed just how exhausted she was. All her muscles were sore- and even with the painkillers she had probably already gotten she could still feel the heavy thrumming in the back of her head, constantly threatening to move closer.

Months of uncertainty, of being alone; and it was all finally going to change, and hopefully for the better. Cato did not know much about how Vitali Dobrynin worked, but his surprisingly charming attitude and his treatment of both her and the old ripperdoc were already a lot more promising than what she had seen from many others before him.

Perhaps it would all be over now. Perhaps Kang Tao would finally give up, finally leave her alone, perhaps she would no longer have to be scared to get taken back in- to get tortured, and killed, if they would even show her that kind of mercy after everything that had happened.

Perhaps she could finally be safe, now.

Cato had not felt safe in months.

She could no longer tell where it had gone wrong. Too much time had passed, too many parties involved; and frankly, at that point it mattered very little who was to blame. She understood why Vitali also didn’t know what to do anymore- he was grasping at straws, but so was everyone else.

But now things were starting to get seriously out of hand.

Hurried pace through the hallway, combat gear on and gun holstered and at the ready. Another day, another tragedy; another citywide mercenary attack traced back to the Broker, yet the man himself once more stayed out of the spotlights like he always did.

Yet something was wrong about it all.

Prior incidents had all had a clear purpose; taking away their resources, exhausting them, rising tensions in town and in the Council and attempting to frame Vitali as the big bad behind it all. Weeks of planning, carefully thought out moves- like some fucked up, intricate game of chess.

Man, the fucking irony.

Yet this time it had come entirely out of nowhere.

And Matvey’s mercenaries merely seemed to be out for blood.

‘Hey-! Cato, wait.’

Cato had almost reached the elevators, but she stopped in her tracks and turned around, heart skipping a beat upon spotting the source of the voice behind her; Lauren, running after her and easily catching up only to drag her in for a hug, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders and hand on the back of her head.

‘Forgot to say goodbye, was in a hurry,’ Cato sheepishly said, Lauren’s hand gently running through her hair and moving to her face to cup her cheek. ‘You on runner duty today?’

‘W-What? I- Yeah, I am, but-’

Lauren’s voice got caught in her throat and she looked up again, a worried frown decorating her brow as her eyes trailed over Cato’s face and her thumb softly ran over her lips.

Cato didn’t know what to say.

Her brain was stuck in work mode; it left very little space for any distractions, and as much as Cato loved her girlfriend she found herself completely at a loss for words, eyes briefly wandering off as she slightly leaned in to Lauren’s touch and took a hesitant step closer to her.

And in response, Lauren leaned down and kissed her, the scent of her cologne mixed with a hint of coconut from her shampoo wrapping around Cato like a warm blanket, as if the two of them were safely at home rather than in the hallway of Vitali’s office, preparing to make dinner together instead of preparing to put their lives on the line once more in an attempt to regain control of the situation out in the streets.

Cato stood on her tiptoes and kissed Lauren back, grabbing the edges of her jacket to tug her closer and she could feel the corners of Lauren’s mouth turn up into a small smile.

Oh, how she had missed the quiet moments with her; they’d had some time, between all the chaos, but with both of them focused on work and the constant threat hanging above their heads it had been difficult to fully find some time for themselves.

They had wanted to move in together at the start of the year.

Cato still lived alone, now.

‘Be careful out there, okay?’ Lauren quietly said, her lips brushing past the bridge of Cato’s nose before she kissed her forehead, lips lingering on her skin a lot longer than necessary.

‘I’m- so good at that,’ Cato replied and wrapped her arms around Lauren’s waist. ‘Powerhouse. Unkillable, even.’

‘Holding you to that.’

‘As you should! As you fuckin’ should.’

She smiled when a quiet giggle left Lauren’s chest and she hid her face in Cato’s neck, carefully wrapping her arms around her again and nearly lifting her from the ground.

‘You be careful in there, too,’ Cato hummed in her ear and gently ran her hand through her girlfriend’s curls. ‘Wanna come home to you, ‘kay? Alive.’

‘And you will, baby. Alive and well.’

And with that, they finally parted ways, Cato glancing over her shoulder one last time and smiling at Lauren before quickly stepping into the elevator and mashing the button of the garage until the doors closed- but she kept going just a little longer, even when the elevator was already on the move, as if the action would keep the tears welling up in her eyes from rolling down her cheeks.

Cato knew like no one else their jobs came with risks.

She had always been a risk taker- largely calculated decisions but with an uncertainty or two that would make most mercs reconsider their options. Cato was too confident for that; or too stubborn perhaps, if you’d ask her friends, but either way she knew what she was doing and she knew how to clean up her messes like no one else.

She sucked in a deep breath and glanced at herself in the mirror of the elevator, quickly grabbing a hair tie from her wrist to pull her black and pink hair into a tight ponytail to get it out of her face. The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened- but she lingered inside just a little longer, expression blank and eyes fixed on her own reflection.

Hope I can get some sleep tonight. Looks like I fuckin’ need it.

The garage was surprisingly crowded, several squads getting ready to try and get a grip on the situation outside. Cato left the elevator and quickly pushed her way through the crowd to the other side, until she reached Mikhail, Eddie and Vincent, waiting for her next to one of their armored vehicles.

‘Everyone ready?’ she asked, hopping on her tiptoes and sinking back to her heels as she nodded at the car.

‘Almost,’ Mikhail responded and clicked his tongue, not moving away from his position against one of the pillars of the garage. ‘Waiting for one more.’

‘One more- seriously? Bit crowded for one car, don’t you think?’

‘Would you prefer for me to sit on the roof, then?’

The sudden voice from behind her caused Cato to freeze and Vitali walked around her, fastening the clip of his chest armor as he gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. A soft scoff left her lips in return and she quickly averted her gaze to the ground.

‘Alright, listen to me!’ Vitali shouted, causing silence to instantly wash over the room and everyone’s heads to turn in his direction.

‘We don’t know exactly what is going on, just got eyes on important locations they’re attacking,’ he continued. ‘Lauren is pinging you the hotspots, report back to her once everything is dealt with. Panam- I want you and your squad to follow us.’

‘Where to?’ Panam asked.

‘Afterlife. Rogue called.’

Well, that can���t be good.

Cato slowly wandered over to the passenger seat while everyone got on the move, head completely elsewhere. She did not know Rogue like Vitali did, or Vincent- but she knew her well enough to know she was not one to ask for help, more than capable enough to deal with situations such as this one herself.

‘It’s chaos out there,’ Eddie said as they climbed onto the backseat on the left side of the car, next to Vincent who was sat in the middle. ‘Bet they already got eyes on us.’

‘I do not doubt it.’ Vitali buckled his seatbelt and started the car, slightly adjusting the rearview mirror before starting to make his way outside the garage. ‘V- Are you alright?’

‘Yep,’ Vincent quickly answered, though Cato could hear how strained his voice was. ‘Peachy.’

Deafening silence washed over the car and Cato glanced in the side mirror to look at Mikhail, who merely stared straight out of the window with no readable expression on his face.

Trouble in paradise?

Not the right time to ask.

The sun already hung low on the horizon, leaving the city in warm orange and pink light; yet smoke lingered in the air from a nearby fire, rapidly threatening to get entirely out of control due to the heat and drought. Not an uncommon occurrence during Night City’s summers- despite the vastly different current circumstances- and Cato quickly took a mask out of the dashboard locker to cover her nose and mouth.

The streets were still busy, as they always were; though Vitali appeared unbothered by it as he swiftly maneuvered between all the other vehicles on the road, hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel.

He was stressed.

Of course he was- Cato was too, heartbeat like a drum in her chest and breathing shallow behind her mask. She let her gaze carefully trail their surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary-

Bingo.

Through the side mirror she could easily spot the heavily armored Arasaka SUVs closing in. Entirely out of place in the otherwise still relatively calm Wellsprings; and when someone leaned out of one of the windows, dressed in makeshift armor and holding some sort of customized assault rifle, Cato knew exactly who they were dealing with.

‘Behind us!’ she yelled over her shoulder and quickly reached for the control panel between herself and Vitali- grabbed the cord of the car’s systems while Eddie and Mikhail both opened their windows to lean out and shoot at their pursuers, and plugged it in the slot in her neck after a deep inhale.

She was never going to get used to it.

Vision going dark instantly, despite being wide awake and having her eyes open; it never failed to trigger her fight or flight response, body instinctively taking the sudden loss of vision as a direct attack, and nausea washed over her as she tightly gripped the edges of her seat to not lose her balance.

It settled quickly when her vision returned to her; though not in her own body but in a drone deployed from the underside of the car instead, and it slowly emerged from underneath as Cato gained control over its movement.

Mostly intuitive, but disorienting- Cato had done it enough times to no longer randomly lose control of the drone because of concentration loss, but it had happened one too many times in the past. Too worried about her surroundings, worried about getting killed, or getting disconnected too early; or she would think too hard about how to steer the drone, actions that would otherwise come naturally to her in her own body.

She relaxed in her chair as the drone flew up into the air and circled above their car, to assess the situation down below; three cars in pursuit, one of them trailing behind a little as it appeared to be in combat with Panam’s squad.

But the other two were closing in quickly, switching lanes to try and flank the car on either side. Cato dove down with the drone, her hands intuitively moving up as she readied the two small SMGs installed in the bot- and without wasting any time she began firing, quickly maneuvering around the side of the car so she could get a clear shot on the tires.

One of the mercs took notice of her and fired at the drone, knocking it out of its course. Cato hissed a quiet fuck and readjusted its alignment, instinctively leaning to the side in her seat as well as if that would help. She took another sharp turn with the drone and positioned it in front of the car instead- and shattered the windscreen with ease, hitting the driver in the shoulder and chest several times and causing them to lose control of the wheel.

The car rammed into the guardrail, causing Vitali to be forced to hit the brakes and swerve around it. An involuntary yelp left Cato’s lips as she nearly lost her balance, despite being sat down- hands desperately reaching around to find any support until Vitali suddenly grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, pulling it closer to the wheel so he could keep driving.

The drone had lingered behind a bit in the brief moment of panic and Cato quickly turned it around to get it back within shooting range. The second car was still close; now positioned slightly ahead of them on the driver’s side, and Eddie was attempting to get one of the tires to pop.

Cato activated the boosters on the underside of the drone to speed it up and dove down once more, positioning it underneath the Arasaka SUV. She carefully deployed an explosive and stuck it right between the two front tires- then slowed down and steered the drone back to their own car.

‘Turn right!’ she yelled, and the second she felt the motion of the car switching direction- and saw it happen through the camera attached to the drone- she detonated the explosive, causing the SUV to get blasted from the road and catch fire mid-air before landing on its side.

‘Preem work, Cato,’ Lauren’s voice suddenly popped up in Cato’s earpiece. ‘Taking control of the drone now- you can disconnect.’

‘Thanks, baby,’ Cato replied and quickly let go of Vitali’s hand again to disconnect the cord; she had to blink a few times to regain control of her vision, Kiroshis briefly struggling to focus on what was in front of her.

‘More of ‘em closing in as we speak,’ Lauren continued, and Cato rolled down her window to be able to lean out of it as well. ‘Four vehicles approaching from the east. Cato, Mish- get ready.’

She had not even finished her sentence when the vehicles in question skidded around the corner on Cato’s side of the car, one of them cutting the curb and nearly ramming into a food stand as the driver struggled to stay in control of the wheel. Cato drew her gun and charged up a power shot- released the trigger and the bolt of energy hit the front car right above the grill, sparks flying off the point of impact as the hood of the car flew open and obscured the windshield.

She charged up another shot as she let Mikhail deal with the now vulnerable and exposed car, a small smirk taking shape on her face when dark smoke followed by flames-

Followed by an explosion that knocked her back into her seat, seatbelt cutting into her skin and flesh and head forcefully snapping back causing a cry of pain to leave her lips. She released the trigger of her gun and the projectile got freely launched into the air, managing to hit one of the other cars’ side mirrors on its path.

‘Blyat- They’re flanking us!’ Vitali yelled from beside her and suddenly Cato’s gun was no longer in her hand, taken by the fixer as he leaned out of his own window to assist Eddie in taking down their pursuers. Cato cursed and grabbed the wheel, only just able to get the car back in its own lane- then cursed again when the cars in front of them slowed down for a traffic light and she swerved around them onto the lane on their right, grabbing the back of Vitali’s chest armor to make sure he wouldn’t fall out of the window.

‘This is a horrible fucking idea, boss!’ Cato screamed, wincing as the car rammed into a line of traffic cones, each of them flying over the windshield and landing somewhere behind them scattered all over the road. She took a sharp turn right, only vaguely remembering the route to the Afterlife- but with that cut off one of the other vehicles and it rammed their backside, causing the car to skid around and come to a full stop in the middle of the intersection.

‘Putting ‘er in reverse, hold on!’ Cato yelled and yanked on the steering wheel, slapping Vitali’s knee to make him put all his weight on the gas. Her eyes rapidly scanned the control panel again and she mashed some buttons- until she found the one that added an additional layer of bulletproof glass over the windshield.

She turned around on her seat, holding out her free hand to Vincent to pull him in; he quickly climbed over her and joined her in the passenger seat, leaning out of the window to shoot at the cars now all positioned right in front of them while Cato kept an eye on the road through the back window.

‘What the fuck are you guys doing?’ Lauren asked, genuine confusion audible in her voice.

‘Don’t even worry about it,’ Vitali replied, sitting back down in his seat to reload and wincing when some gunfire hit the side mirror and with that nearly his shoulder. ‘Cato is a fantastic driver.’

‘Cato would love to be in the fucking driver’s seat for that next time round!’ Cato roared in response, reaching over to drag both Eddie and Mikhail back into the car one by one before reaching back to grab Vincent by the arm and give the steering wheel another spin with all the strength left in her body, to position the car back in a forward position on the road.

Vitali hit the gas again and Cato reached up to adjust the rearview mirror, a sharp exhale leaving her body when she noticed two cars still in pursuit. Panam’s squad was no longer on sight- probably took another turn somewhere, to deal with more mercs, or to make use of a shortcut.

‘We have to get across bridge,’ Vitali said, nodding to the road up ahead. ‘Get back on highway and turn left- we get rid of them there.’

‘Yessir,’ Cato said, slightly relaxing against Vincent’s body. ‘Heads up, they’re closin’ in.’

Not her first car chase, by far- but Cato hated all of them, and for good reasons. Her breathing was shallow behind the mask, hairs on her arms standing up straight as she took the turn onto the highway, toward the bridge; a wide open space, both an advantage and a disadvantage at the same time.

Vitali accelerated and Cato repositioned herself on her seat, readying herself to maneuver between the vehicles up ahead. Eddie, Mikhail and Vincent leaned out of their windows again, opening fire on the Arasaka SUVs in pursuit; but Vitali seemed to be waiting for something, eyes carefully scanning the road before slowly but surely leaning out of his seat, aiming his gun at something ahead of them.

Cato instantly realized what he was going to do.

‘Is that a good idea?’ she asked, raising her voice a little to be audible over the gunfire as she steered around a few cars.

‘No,’ Vitali replied, ‘but when have I had any good ideas lately?’

And with that, he opened fire on the tires of an NCPD vehicle driving diagonally in front of them, effectively causing the driver to lose control of the wheel. Cato clenched her jaw and moved in, cutting the car off and causing them to swerve to the side- and both Arasaka SUVs rammed right into it, causing it to flip on its side and come to a stop in the middle of the road.

‘Easy,’ Vitali said, sitting back down and taking the wheel from Cato again. His voice was a few octaves higher than usual.

‘Well, that takes care of that,’ Lauren said. ‘Cut their communication, no backup en route currently. Dunno how long I can hold them off, though.’

‘Just do what you can,’ Vitali replied. ‘We will be arriving shortly anyway- NCPD would be stupid to try and enter Afterlife.’

‘They could send MaxTac.’

‘For the sake of this conversation, let’s pretend they don’t exist.’

Everyone remained quiet for the rest of the car ride. Vincent crawled back onto the backseat and Cato closed her window again, heartbeat settling down only a little bit as she took her gun back from Vitali and put the safety back on. She was waiting, still- waiting for more of them to show, or waiting for Lauren to warn for incoming backup-

But much to her relief, nothing else happened.

The silences after combat were always the worst to her.

Cato’s brain often needed a moment to catch up, body still alert and ready to jump back into the fight if necessary- but in those quiet moments it would often all come crashing down on her, realization kicking in to the point she would be more aware of the pain in her body and the taste of blood in her mouth than she would be of her own heartbeat.

She relaxed in her seat, eyes carefully trailing the roads surrounding them as Vitali continued their way to the club. It was getting darker and darker; street lights turning on around them and the neon lights and signs of Watson turned the streets into colorful hazes of distractions, marking the beginning of the city’s nightly life.

The entrance of the Afterlife was a mess.

Cato hopped out of the car before Vitali could even bring it to a full stop and she readied her weapon again while carefully scanning the parking lot. Cars stood scattered everywhere- two of them merely a chassis and still smoldering, dark smoke lingering in the stuffy evening air and obscuring her view.

She stayed low to the ground, biting the inside of her cheek as she stepped over a couple of bodies- no idea who they belonged to- until she reached the front entrance of the place that once used to be a morgue; and by the looks of it was now reduced to that very same earlier functionality.

Another car arrived at the scene and Cato instantly turned, raising her gun- but noticed Mikhail raising his hand at her from the corner of her eye and waited, realizing soon enough the car belonged to them and was simply Panam and her squad.

‘Mikhail, stay out here with Panam,’ Vitali said, the usual strictness to his voice Cato was used to; though she could hear his exhaustion, the slightly pleading undertone seeping through his words, as if he was no longer sure whether or not his authority was still in place.

‘V, on me!’ she immediately said, raising her voice a little as she pulled her mask off her face. ‘Eddie, stick with the boss, take the back entrance. We’ll meet in the middle.’

‘Copy that. Lauren, you got a visual?’

‘Nix plugged the whole network, you’re on your own from here. Bet Matvey’s runner is tryna poke some holes- I’m stayin’ out of that.’

Cato’s gaze met Vitali’s-

And for a brief moment she could barely recognize him.

The sudden defeated look in his eyes, a stark contrast with only minutes ago when they had been back on the road; demeanor similar to that of a kicked puppy and the gratitude and relief spilling from the expression on his face suddenly made her realize how vulnerable her friend was.

He had always been different from other fixers to her.

Had been the first one to open his doors to her, let her in- and he had offered her a safehouse, protection, things he did not have to do yet did anyway from the kindness of his heart.

‘We’ll figure this out,’ Cato said, loud enough for everyone on the parking lot to hear- yet she was talking to one person directly, eyes still fixed on his face as she spoke and he gave her a weak nod in response, rapidly blinking a couple times before looking away and following Eddie around the building.

Cato inhaled deeply, taking a moment to regain her composure as she pulled herself out of her head and turned to Vincent, who gave her an affirming nod in return. The two of them quickly entered the building through the main entrance, already able to hear gunfire coming from within while descending down the stairs. Security turrets snapped into their direction the moment they turned the corner- but did not fire upon seeing who was entering, and they both did a quick wave at one of the security cameras before quickly running inside.

The interior of the Afterlife was similar to its current exterior, bodies and debris scattered around- some sort of explosion, perhaps- and several tables had been overturned, used by mercs and clients as cover in what appeared to be the final moments of a gunfight.

Cato made a run for the bar and jumped over it with ease, taking cover behind it as she carefully assessed the situation; she recognized some of the mercs as Rogue’s and could easily tell the remainder of the Broker’s mercs apart from everyone else- makeshift armor, cobbled together from what they had been able to find at the abandoned Arasaka facility as well as their own supplies.

She steadied herself on the countertop and fired a few shots in their direction, most of them bouncing off the wood and metal of the tables and chairs- but it did what she was hoping for, getting the mercs agitated enough to attempt to fire back and with that exposing themselves to the lines of fire of everyone else in the club, soon enough leaving the ringing in Cato’s ears as the only noise filling the space around her.

‘Everyone still in one piece?’ Rogue’s voice echoed from the other side of the club. Cato slowly stood up and quickly glanced around until she found Vincent- not too far away from her, giving her a thumbs up the second she looked in his direction.

More gunshots sounded from the hallways further into the building. Cato turned and finally noticed Rogue- emerging from behind a pillar, hair tied back to keep it out of her face and some blood splattered across her cheek and jaw- and watched her march into the direction of one of the doors, only for it to bust open before she could reach it.

Vitali tumbled inside, two mercs attacking him at once and one of them attempting to slit his throat; Cato instantly lunged forward over the bar to close the distance between herself and the scuffle on the floor, but before she could do anything Rogue pulled out a gun and fired- two rapid, loud gunshots, two dead bodies, and Vitali yelped as he pushed them both off himself and scrambled back to his feet as fast as he could.

‘We clear?’ Rogue asked, glancing up when Eddie too entered through the door, and Vitali quickly nodded in response as he straightened his back and pushed back his shoulders while rapidly scanning the room- found Vincent and Cato, and he visibly relaxed again.

Thought Matvey didn’t want Vitali dead?

‘Nix says there’s more on the way,’ Rogue continued, speaking loud enough for everyone inside to hear as she took a few steps back to look around. ‘Including MaxTac. Which I can only describe as an unpleasant fucking surprise.’

‘Probably best if we delta,’ Vincent immediately said, hints of a grimace on his face as he shared a nervous look with Cato. ‘Let them- you know. Fight it out.’

‘Where to?’

‘Whe- Uh. Boss?’

‘Safehouse.’ Vitali paused to lick his lips. ‘Rancho Coronado, should be abandoned. Enough space for all of us, for now. Regroup there?’

‘Preem, lead the way. And, hey- you owe me an explanation, Dobrynin.’

‘Let’s get out of here alive first, yes?’

There was not much to explain, from Cato’s point of view. They hadn’t figured out what was going on still- did not know what Matvey was trying to achieve with any of this, and frankly, it had gotten to the point where trying to find an ulterior motive was more pointless than attempting to make sense out of his weird revenge fantasy in the first place.

She lingered behind a little with Vitali while everyone began making their way back outside, eyes once more trailing the interior of what remained of the Afterlife. It wouldn’t be the first time a gunfight had taken place inside- though she doubted it had ever gotten that bad before, and already feared for the consequences the Council would decide on were they to catch wind of all this.

Problem for later. Got more pressing matters at hand.

Reinforcements had shown up outside in the meantime and Cato instantly snapped back to reality, following Eddie and Vincent around the burnt out car chassis to put more distance between themselves and their enemies. She crouched down, moving around the both of them to get to Panam- kneeled next to one of their other mercs, bleeding from their shoulder.

‘Wound’s superficial!’ Panam yelled over the noises around them. ‘But we gotta get ‘em out of this heat!’

Cato glanced over the concrete road barrier they were sat behind; several vehicles blocked the only road out of the parking lot, and there was no way of safely getting past them without having to abandon their own cars in the process.

She turned back- eyes frantically scanning both Panam and the other merc until they landed on two grenades attached to their belt. She snatched them off and hopped over the barrier, trailing along the side of the parking lot to stay out of sight as she slowly moved closer to get a better angle.

And once she was close enough, she pulled the pins out of both grenades without hesitating and hurled them at the cars of the Broker’s mercs, covering her ears and withdrawing herself back behind the corner of the wall as the double explosion rattled her bones and caused the ground below her feet to shake.

She stayed in her position, waiting until her heartbeat had settled down; waiting for the pained screams and cries to die down, waiting for the gunfire to end, waiting for her nose to become used to the smell of burnt flesh- or for her brain to successfully convince her someone was simply throwing a barbecue just around the block, and there was nothing else to worry about.

‘Everyone, move out!’ Rogue yelled when Cato finally lowered her hands- and a humming noise somewhere above them instantly caught her attention, a sudden breeze picking up, and she turned her head to sky to-

Another explosion blasted her straight off her feet and she fell backwards, back hitting the wall and everything momentarily went black before she was suddenly face down on the ground. She tried to push herself back up on her elbows, grunting as the muscles on the left side of her body painfully protested-

And with that she was yanked back on her feet though not in the friendly manner she had been hoping for and a heavily armored figure appeared in her view, holding a heavy handgun firmly pressed against her forehead.

MaxTac.

But Cato was fast.

Smacked the weapon aside before they could pull the trigger on her and forcefully grabbed the helmet to yank it off their head, spinning 360 degrees before slamming it into the MaxTac agent’s face at full speed. Her arms were grabbed from behind and she was pulled back, one hand reaching up to grab a handful of her hair and drag her along, away from her friends-

But then she was on the ground again, a large boot kicking her in the face and her vision faded away once more for a couple of seconds. She blinked, coughing and wincing in pain as she noticed a tall figure hovering over her and they grabbed her hand to pull her back up on her feet.

‘Hey- Get up. Can’t have you dying on me now.’

Mikhail’s voice was soft, yet somehow the only thing Cato could hear as she suddenly struggled to realize where exactly she was; as if the two of them had been sent years back in time, back to when they used to work together- before Cato ran off with Kang Tao and Mikhail went to work for Arasaka instead-

Still difficult to believe, sometimes, that he had been part of the reason Kang Tao had started to hunt her and her squad down.

‘Wasn’t planning to,’ Cato quietly replied and gave him a small smile in return, allowing her friend to ruffle her hair before they both crossed the parking lot to get around the now empty MaxTac aircraft back to the car.

Let’s get the fuck out of here.

‘Get a medkit!’

‘Alright, sit down, careful-’

‘Misha? Catch.’

‘Someone bring me some towels!’

Vitali slowly followed the others inside the abandoned house in southern Rancho Coronado, lingering behind just a little longer as his gaze moved over the empty streets one final time. In the clear, for now- yet he remained alert, gun still in his slightly shaking hand as he dragged himself through the entrance hall and the living room to the other side of the house to sit down on a stool in the kitchen next to the large glass door leading to the backyard.

His leg and forearm were burning.

He’d forgotten to take any painkillers before departure.

The merc’s injuries were superficial and nothing Mikhail could not fix; just another day at work and one of the risks of their line of work. But the panicked sounds surrounding him, of his friends running around looking for more supplies, Panam nearly running right into him on her way to grab more towels, people getting weapons ready and sharing ammo with each other while preparing for yet another thorough perimeter check-

Vitali’s eyes fluttered shut.

And for a brief moment, it was entirely quiet around him.

The black void swallowing him whole was comforting, in a way; a cool patch of shade on a scorching hot summer day, a gentle breeze on a balcony overlooking the ocean, a wild river dragging him down by his feet until his entire body was submerged.

He often found himself standing there, in the dark- wondering. Wondering when it would end, when he would regain control again; wondering what else was left there for him; wondering what else he could say, if a half-assed apology would be enough to save him this time.

And all he would get in response was silence.

Strange, how that worked- to crave something he feared so deeply at the same time, to want something he knew he could not have without losing himself in the process.

And with that, the noise returned to him, panicked screams and cries and sobs and the feeling of hands grabbing his wrists and tearing at his clothes and clawing at his face, nails and teeth drawing blood, like hungry wolves feeding on a deer’s carcass-

He knew what dying felt like.

‘Hey.’

V’s voice had always been strangely soothing to him. Like a gentle kiss on a bruise- a voice that could cause his heartbeat to settle down even in the most stressful of moments.

But Vitali could not open his eyes.

Could not bear to look at him- what would he even say? After everything that had happened and everything that was happening around them now; he would only end up digging himself deeper into that hole, as stubborn as he was, unable to accept his defeat.

A quiet sigh left his lips when V gently cupped his cheeks, thumbs running over his skin as he gently tilted his head a little to the side.

‘You’re bleeding,’ he quietly said, and Vitali finally allowed himself to open his eyes, watching worry spilling from the expression on the merc’s face as he carefully moved his fingers to just behind Vitali’s ear.

‘It’s nothing serious,’ Vitali merely responded, holstering his gun and reaching up to push V’s hand away, but V dodged him and instead tried to tilt his head further.

‘I said-’

‘I heard you. Let me take a look.’

‘V-’

‘Vincent.’

A short pause, and Vitali sucked in a shallow breath.

‘Please.’

Vincent.

Vitali held his breath, heart skipping a beat as a weirdly comforting fog in his head blocked everything else out and caused him to only see what was right in front of him. He slowly scanned V’s face as his head was once more tilted to the side- no sign of sarcasm, no sign of discomfort, or hesitance.

Their gazes met; and V shot him a small, encouraging smile, lower lip trembling slightly as he did.

And with that, Vitali finally allowed Vincent to assess the damage, a wave of relief washing over him as he closed his eyes again and briefly pressed his lips against the bloodied palm of his boyfriend’s hand.

The carnage at the Afterlife had taken its toll on him, a lot more than he had initially expected. Something had caused the harsh reality of it all to fully kick in there- and they had learned nothing, other than the fact that apparently Matvey’s mercs were now taking a completely different approach.

Vitali involuntarily clenched his jaw and sucked in a deep breath, the memory of the two heavy bodies on top of him creeping back into his mind- the knife that had only been inches away from his throat- Ravager’s hands wrapped tightly around his neck-

‘Is anyone here gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?’

Rogue had walked over to the two of them and stopped right next to Vitali the moment he looked up again, hands on her hips and a mostly unreadable expression on her face- though he did not need to ask to know she was fucking furious.

‘Genuinely wish I could,’ he answered, flinching lightly when Vincent dabbed the wound behind his ear with a wet towel. ‘Attack came out of nowhere, I don’t think any of it was planned. No pattern, no motive- they tried to kill me, as you saw. That’s new.’

‘So your- the Broker is changing their strategy?’

Vitali clenched his jaw again, but did not answer.

He didn’t know what his father was attempting to achieve with any of this. It made no sense- had their last encounter finally caused him to stop fucking around, to stop wasting time? Had this been part of his plan all along?

Vitali swallowed heavily and pushed the thought out of his head. Anything was possible at that point, but he decided to choose to believe his father had better backup plans at hand. Whatever had happened, whatever it was that had changed- there had to be a logical explanation to it all.

‘Just gotta figure out where they’re stayin’, then we can get this over with,’ Vincent quietly said, glancing in Rogue’s direction before looking back at Vitali. ‘Whatever happens, happens.’

He was right.

Vitali closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply, a strange knot settling deep within his stomach as he realized what that meant. Whatever happens, happens- no way around it anymore this time, nothing else left to do or say. No more grasping at straws; nothing left within his reach.

All he had wanted for himself, was a happy ending.

Selfish, in hindsight, to wish that for himself after getting so many other people caught up in the crossfire. Stupid of him to think that his father would stop, naive of him to think that he could get his family back after everything that had happened between them, after all their years apart.

Vincent cupped his cheeks with both hands and left a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth- I know, baby, I know- and it only then dawned on Vitali a tear had escaped his eye and was steadily rolling down his cheek, Vincent’s thumb softly running over his skin to wipe it away.

Oh, how Vitali had hoped it wouldn’t have had to get to this.

He opened his eyes again and slowly let his gaze trail through the room. Most people had sat themselves down in the living room, everyone a bit calmer now that the mercenary’s injury was being looked after by Mikhail and weapons had been reloaded. Rogue slowly wandered away again too, redoing her ponytail while quietly mumbling to herself- just too quiet for him to hear what she said.

‘Boss-? Someone’s approaching the house!’

Vitali’s head snapped up toward the front door, a rush of adrenaline instantly waking him up again. He grabbed the gun in his holster, dragging himself from the stool and pushing past Vincent to get to Cato, who had called out for him. She briefly glanced over her shoulder, then readied her own weapon and kicked open the door, both of them stepping outside and aiming at-

‘Wait, wait, wait- Don’t shoot!’

Dusty?

Vitali froze.

It was unmistakably his ex mercenary, hands up in the air while he stumbled back a few steps, wide eyes focused on the guns pointed at his head. Vitali instantly lowered his own- and so did Cato, though she also walked closer without hesitation and used the butt of her weapon to smack Dusty in the head- hard.

‘You fucking cunt of a traitor!’ she yelled, stuffing her gun in her holster while grabbing one of his arms and forcefully twisting it behind his back.

‘Cato-’ Vitali said and raised his hand, but other than that did nothing to stop her and just stood motionless to the ground while Dusty sputtered and cried out in pain as Cato dragged him off the street, closer to the house.

‘You got some serious balls showin’ your ugly face here after everything!’ she snarled, pushing Dusty into the outer wall of the house and aiming her gun at him again. ‘I should shoot you where you stand!’

Vitali’s brain struggled to catch up.

He walked a little further into the street, eyes carefully scanning each and every corner; it was too dark for him to be able to see very far but everything seemed clear from where he stood, the only movement he could see coming from the corner of his eye, some of the others emerging from the house to see what was going on.

‘Check the perimeter,’ he heard Rogue say, and turned around again just in time to see a few mercs scatter and vanish into the dark, weapons at the ready- and then he realized everyone who was still there was staring directly at him, even Cato, a questioning look on her face and her gun pointed directly at a still whimpering Dusty, her hand slightly swaying from side to side.

‘Why are you here?’ he asked, slightly raising his voice as he walked back and straightened his back, regaining his composure within mere milliseconds. ‘No fucking around- give me something to work with or I’ll let Cato do whatever she wants.’

‘Sanders is dead,’ Dusty promptly replied, and he dropped his arms past his body, carefully lifting his head from the wall. ‘Your old man killed him. His mercs are out of fuckin’ control- out for your blood, they don’t care about no contract anymore.’

Oh.

Vitali stopped in his tracks, mouth half open as the words got caught in his throat and he exchanged a look with Cato as a sudden location in Charter Hill popped up in the corner of his vision.

‘They locked him up,’ Dusty continued, his voice low. ‘Usin’ every little bit of the supplies he keeps in that building to burn this entire city to a fuckin’ crisp- and they’re not gonna stop any time soon by the looks of it.’

Dead silence fell over the dark street.

Well, as silent as it could be.

If you listened closely you could hear it in the distance- vaguely audible over the light breeze and some distant music- the noises of what was going on downtown, sirens howling through the night sky and heavy gunfire rattling through the streets, not uncommon at all but far heavier than it usually was.

Vitali felt light-headed.

Unsure what to think of it all- unsure if he could even trust Dusty’s word- but the sheer panic and fear in the merc’s eyes said enough and he bit the inside of his cheek, heart beating heavily inside his chest.

They locked him up.

This is not his doing.

He promptly walked back inside, past all his mercs, past Rogue- avoiding eye contact with each and every single one of them as he ran up the stairs as fast as he could to reach the safehouse’s weapon storage. His heart was once again racing in his chest, ramming itself into his ribcage as the pain in both his leg and forearm flared up again.

Painkillers can wait.

The small closet wasn’t nearly as impressive as back at home or at his office, but Vitali didn’t care. It was enough to stock up on ammo- and all he was looking for anyway was the box of explosives, tucked away in the far right corner and hidden behind some shotguns.

Nothing too powerful, of course- there was no need to level the whole thing to the ground, no need to potentially harm innocent people in the somewhat impulsive act of destruction he was carefully planning out in his head. Merely enough to get rid of what was inside; wipe out the threat and get rid of every and any tool used by the mercs to keep their citywide onslaught going.

He closed the door of the storage closet with his hip and nearly walked right into Vincent and Rogue, the both of them having followed him upstairs and giving him a puzzled look before glancing down at the box in his arms, realization kicking in for the both of them at once upon seeing the explosives and the dangerous shimmer in his eyes.

‘Get everyone together,’ Vitali said, and the corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile.

‘Let’s go blow up a building.’

[stillhavetodothat]

Replaying Nancy Drew without Cheating - Part 7: The Haunted Carousel

Ah, yes, a game that I rarely even think about when considering the Nancy Drew universe as a whole. I didn’t even know Ingrid Corey’s name was Ingrid Corey when I first sat down to play this game. I didn’t remember Miles the Magnificent Memory Machine. In fact, this is having me question if I have ever actually finished the game in the first place, because aside from who the culprit was, I didn’t remember a thing about that ending. The last scene was just a lot of clicking around in blind hope, trying not to die. Unfortunately, this meant that I got to see a whole lot of this face.

Honestly, thank god I didn’t ever finish this one as a kid, because that face would have given me more nightmares than Joseph’s in FIN (and that already scared me shitless enough).

But anyway. CAR. And not cheating when playing it. I was able to move through the story pretty quickly, without getting stuck, until I had to play the harmonica for MtMM. I played those 6 notes over and over again, and he kept telling me to try again. I was getting ready to throw my laptop in a rage. Eventually when I went away, talked to some other people, and returned, I was able to replay the 6 notes and he finally accepted the answer. This had to have either been a bug, or it was set up in such a way that I couldn’t move on to solving the riddle unless I had had another conversation first? I don’t know. Either way, that was maybe the most frustrating moment in my entire journey so far, and the one I was most willing to risk my no-cheating streak for. BUT ALAS, I prevailed!

Some thoughts about this game:

1. Why does the location suck so bad? This game is about a theme park, but you can only go to a few attractions inside the park, a couple stuffy offices, and the butt-ugly hotel room across the street. Herein starts the trend of games where very little wandering takes place. Obviously other games have maps with marked locations on them, but they also have an entire museum, an entire soap opera set, or a huge forest and underground tunnels to explore. Idk, this game felt slightly claustrophobic to me for some reason. And I would have loved to be able to wander through the park itself to feel a little bit more immersed. Missed opportunity.

I will say that this hotel room captures the feel of New Jersey perfectly, though.

2. For a game whose namesake is a “haunted carousel,” we see very little haunting and honestly very little carousel. Half the game is running around solving convoluted riddles for a helpless Joy, and the other is doing Ingrid’s job for her, leaving very little time for much else.

3. Speaking of Ingrid, why on earth is an engineer asking me, an 18-year-old stranger, to fix circuitry and program software updates? And some of her passive aggressive comments (”It isn’t exactly rocket science,” “He’s not exactly a mechanical genius,” and “You can check in the binder if it’s too cryptic for you”) made her a VERY unpleasant suspect. Being a park engineer is YOUR job, girl, not mine. However, she IS the most beautiful suspect in the games so far. LOOK at her bone structure.

4. For some reason, I remember the burning-down-the-hotel thing as an explosion, where you get to see the entire hotel get engulfed in violent flames as you stand outside in horror. I mean, getting the call from Paula Santos is good and all, but it was disappointing when I was gearing up to see some serious destruction (I even left the iron on, on purpose, just to see it).

5. I felt like Nancy was particularly annoying in this game. She hears Harlan is an ex-con, and immediately tries to get him fired over it (extremely anti-woke of her...why have I never realized how terrible she really is?). Instead of ordering a soft drink with her burger, she ordered a tall glass of milk (barf). Half the time she pronounces carousel “carouSEL,” which irked me for no reason at all. Obviously Joy and Ingrid were battling for the Most Annoying Character award this game, but seems like Nancy decided to throw her hat in the ring, too.

6. I was about to shit all over Nancy for being a hude nerd and thinking finding a book on carousels was “cool,” but then I read it and was actually enthralled. I even read some tidbits of information to my fiance, and he was also fascinated, and even asked some follow-up questions (very detective of him!). So I will apologize to Nancy for that, but only that!

7. The first game where Nancy has a cell phone! Hilarious that she has to pull out her blank notepad and a pencil for every single impromptu call, but at least we are spared running back to a specific room just to make a phone call. AND, we get to answer phone calls in this game, too, not just make them! So futuristic.

8. This is also the first game where you have to actually get information from one of your regular phone contacts (Bess, George, Ned) in order to move forward in the game. I have been generally avoiding calling any of those contacts throughout these play-throughs, since it is mostly just recapping stuff I’ve already done. This left me racking my brain trying to remember where we are supposed to learn about shorthand to translate the Glory note, thinking it was in a book somewhere, when really it really required a phone call to Bess all along.

9. This is also the first playthrough of this game where I actually got to mention the Poppy Dada piece to Elliott, and hear him say that she thinks he is hot (she ain’t wrong). I love discovering new experiences in older games, and love when games make references to games that preceded them.

10. This picture of Mike DeSalle and K.J. Perris is the best part of the game, hands down. The hair! The mustache! The crossed eyes! The awkward holding of the jewelry!

11. Not to brag or anything, but I managed to beat Barnacle Blast the first time through. Not sure how this is even possible, since I have been dreading that very game since I started STFD. I must be getting more dexterous in my old age.

I know I just bitched about CAR for several paragraphs there, but I did enjoy playing it. The ending was actually really great, and it made sense when you think about other clues that were pointing to it the entire game (the fact that Elliott kept calling me “Nance” was suspicious on its own - you can never trust anyone who gets too friendly. See: Lisa, Joe). This is Nancy Drew, so any and every game is a treat for me. Even if I have complaints.

Never been so excited to get out of New Jersey. Onward and upwards to the PNW, and one of my favorite games of all time!

[detectivewoof-a]

Photo: a person at a book signing table with a matching photo by them

Prey drives were really never a thing for me until the day I realized who he was. 

1980, I think it was. Finally scraped enough money to at least buy a cheeseburger, found a bussing job that didn’t ask too many questions about what I was doing in the US, I had thought I shaken them for good in the streets of Georgia. I had forgotten all about them, honestly, up until I woke up with a shotgun pointed at my face somewhere between Jackson and Atlanta and a bat cracking across my head. 

Funny how that seems to happen a lot to me. 

Woke up in someone’s apartment the next day, some guy and his wife saying they found me but couldn’t find enough ID on me to take me to the hospital. Made sense at the time, all I crossed the border with was a name in my head and a need to escape the ghosts that haunted me back home. My half-broken English probably made my thanks a little strange, but they were nice enough folk. Gave me some food, an ice pack, insisted I stayed until I felt like myself, didn’t really question why he had pamphlets for shelters ready... 

In hindsight, I probably should’ve. In hindsight, sometimes instinct is worth it in the end. 

I wasn’t used to nice, so it bothered me that they were so willing to take me in. And they both had a smell to them that was familiar. He never seemed to stop smelling like burning dirt and copper wires, while her hands held the musk of oleanders.  

I didn’t think much about it until I read one of the pamphlets. Recruitment material, the fucking sun symbol plastered all over it the same as the bodies I left buried back in Guatemala. At the time I didn’t know if it was chance or if they thought they could turn me into a pet like Lydia and Marco but I... made them regret their kindness. 

I still remember her screaming about how they didn’t know they’d find children in the desert. It was funny, because I hadn’t mentioned what happened. A guilty consciousness does make memories a little clearer, it seems.  

They were easy to cut a deal with. They promised to supply me with anything I needed, that even their family would supply me without question. Anything to clear their minds about the children that cried for their parents on that day.  

They were more than willing to sell out their own generations to escape their hell on Earth. Admittedly, I probably enjoy it a bit more than I should.  

Even the boy was taught quickly. His forgeries were honestly better than the fucking fangs that gave me the papers in the first place. He’s skittish about the whole arrangement, which is good. I know he always wants to mention how he has nothing to do with whatever vendetta I have against his parents, but I know him well enough to know he wouldn’t dare. I know he’s hiding their location from me for that reason, taking their punishment upon himself. 

But between you and me? If he knew what they did? He’d ask the Soul-Guide personally to lead them to the deepest corners of the Underworld. 

[clairelsonao3]

Happy STS!

Someone finds your google history for your wip. How much trouble are you in?

Happy STS, Elli! Thanks for the ask!

Hell, I'm in trouble for my WIP WITHOUT anyone finding my Google history. 😂

But, yeah, okay, let's do this. For GSNBTR, off the top of my head:

Serious stuff:

First, obviously, numerous searches related to chemistry, physics, and engineering, including survivorship bias theory, i.e. the rocket thing (probably spent weeks on that alone), organic chemistry and the different methods for teaching it (yes, I downloaded textbooks), premed degree requirements, molecular orbital theory (yes, it's a real thing, I didn't just make it up), actual IRL mirror telescopes, how they're built, where they're located, and what they do, CERN and the large hadron collider, fog bows and the guy who discovered them, liquid nitrogen, how it's used and stored and its effects on chemical bonds, idk probably dozens of other topics ...

Every topic related to ancient practices of slavery one could possibly imagine -- everything from day-to-day treatment of slaves in Greece and Rome, how much it cost to buy and maintain slaves, slavery and the legal system, different types of tortures and punishments, the historical proportion of slaves to the free population, laws related to sex and gender, Partus sequitur ventrem, Aristotle vs. Seneca and the Stoic views on the nature of slavery and the soul, and yes, different types of historical manumission (stay tuned for more on that soon thanks to another ask ...😉) Some of this knowledge long predates my current WIP (I studied the classics, as I'm sure I've mentioned) but I needed to refresh my memory.

Literacy and the different methods and timeframes for teaching it as well as basic mathematical and scientific concepts and problems and how those are taught

Poetry and literature, in particular Shakespeare, Hugo, Plautus, Terence, Joyce, Yeats ... and the Bible.

Languages: Luxembourgish, French, German, and Spanish, in particular curses, slang terms, and colloquialisms, but also viewing/listening native speakers to get a feel for the accents and fact-checking everything through Google translate and online dictionaries (thank you, lod.lu!)

Various European countries' geography, economies, and politics, agriculture, cuisine, currency, etc.

Southwestern desert geography, flora and fauna (I lived there of course, but I still needed to make sure to get the details right)

The gambler's fallacy and the theory of scientific realism

Whumpy stuff:

1st, 2nd and 3rd-degree burns and their treatment

Use of cattle prods in torture and the difference between cattle prods and tasers

Handcuffs and shackles and how to escape from them (if they're put on correctly and you don't have the key, good luck)

Wound dehiscence, types of sutures, torn rotator cuffs and other arm injuries, how they're treated and how they heal

Videos of field medicine techniques

Photos and descriptions of scar tissue

Dozens of videos of street fights and descriptions of hand-to-hand combat techniques for people of different genders, sizes, and skill levels (tbh I probably spent longer on this than any of the science, because it does not come easily to me)

Whatever other injury anyone did or will suffer from, assume I looked it up (whether or not I decided to ultimately portray it accurately or not 😂)

Miscellaneous:

Microchipping in pets and how it might apply to humans, particularly their migration and potential removal, and the possibilities of real-time GPS tracking using them (there is a possibility, but right now this concept is still sci-fi)

Different car makes and models, how long they've existed, and how they're designed and driven

Different companies, pop culture entities, and brand names and specifically how long they've existed (if they began post-1950, I can't use them)

BDSM etiquette, safewords, etc.

Other spicy stuff, including the likelihood of multiple orgasms (YOU ASKED) 😂 and synonyms for common body parts and sexual terms just to help me be more creative (thank you, Ao3 Guide to Writing Smut)

Topics related to tech startups, finance, IPOs, mergers and acquisitions, etc., though I also use that in my day job ...

Astrological signs and MBTIs for my characters

The rules of golf 😂

Tons of stuff I'm forgetting

Yeah. I'm not sure what this hypothetical person viewing my search history would think of that, but they'd probably be concerned. Or intrigued, in which case they're my new BFF.

[newyorkstrategicpartners]

Reflecting on Tragedy: A Visit to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York

On the morning of September 11, 2001, the world was forever changed when four commercial airplanes were hijacked by terrorists and used as weapons to attack the United States. The attacks resulted in the deaths of nearly 3,000 people and caused immeasurable pain and suffering for countless others. Today, the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City stands as a testament to the lives lost and the bravery of those who responded to the tragedy.

As I entered the museum, I was struck by the solemn atmosphere that permeated the space. The walls were lined with photographs and quotes from survivors and victims’ families, and the sound of soft music played in the background. I felt a deep sense of reverence as I began my tour of the exhibits.

The first exhibit I encountered was titled “Before 9/11”. It showcased the vibrant and diverse culture of New York City in the years leading up to the attacks. I saw images of the city skyline, bustling streets, and smiling faces. It was a poignant reminder that the world was a very different place before the tragedy of 9/11.

As I moved through the museum, I came across a collection of personal items recovered from the wreckage of the World Trade Center. Seeing these objects up close was a sobering experience. There were shoes, wallets, and pieces of clothing that had belonged to those who perished. The items were accompanied by descriptions of the people they had belonged to, making the tragedy feel all the more personal.

One of the most striking exhibits in the museum was a replica of the Twin Towers. The towers were recreated using steel beams recovered from the wreckage, and the exhibit was a haunting reminder of the magnitude of the destruction that occurred on that fateful day. Looking up at the towers, I was overwhelmed by a sense of grief and loss.

As I continued through the museum, I encountered the heart-wrenching exhibits dedicated to the victims and their families. There were photographs of those who had died, along with personal stories from their loved ones. There was a wall covered in tributes and memorials left by visitors to the site. It was clear that the loss of life on 9/11 had touched countless people in profound ways.

One of the most moving exhibits in the museum was a video tribute to the first responders who had bravely risked their lives to save others. The video showed footage of firefighters and police officers rushing into the burning buildings, and the heroic efforts they made to help those in need. I was struck by the incredible courage and selflessness displayed by these men and women.

The museum also featured a section dedicated to the aftermath of the attacks. There were exhibits on the rescue and recovery efforts, as well as the impact the attacks had on the United States and the world. One of the most impactful exhibits in this section was a wall covered in newspaper headlines from around the world. Seeing how the tragedy had been reported on and interpreted in different parts of the globe was a stark reminder of the global impact of the attacks.

As I reached the end of my tour, I found myself standing in front of the 9/11 Memorial. The memorial consists of two large reflecting pools, each with a waterfall cascading down into the void where the Twin Towers once stood. The names of all the victims of the attacks are inscribed around the edge of the pools.

Standing there, watching the water flow and listening to the peaceful sound of the cascading water, I was struck by the sense of tranquility and serenity that surrounded me.

9/11 Memorial and Museum Video

9/11 Memorial and Museum Location

MEMBER SPOTLIGHT

Baobab Architects P.C.

8 W 126th St. 3rd floor, New York, NY 10027

(212) 433-2393

If you are looking for architects nyc

Our small business structure allows the Principal to closely participate on your project. He has been in business for 23 years, exposed to a lot of different types of projects in New York. Our objective is to provide maximum value to you by utilizing our expertise and experience. This means you can be confident that we will meet your expectations.

DRIVING DIRECTION

[steveharringtonsspecialjar]

Blessing or a Curse?

Part 1

Summary: A certain incident involving Y/n L/n’s Father caused her to have to move to Denver so she could live with her mother and little brother, she can’t decide if she despises the new life or not.

Warnings: Cursing, Y/n has a lot of nice things bc she came from money, Vance Hopper x Reader (Romantic), Griffin Stagg x Reader (Platonic) Nothing else I don’t think.

This is probably gonna be very slow burn so just hang with me here dude.

Trees fogged together in a blur as the car flew down the interstate, small tears ran down your face as you left the life you had always known. All your friends, all your family, your entire life…Gone.

—————

You slowly pried your eyes open, squinting as they got used to the light from the window shining into your new bedroom. You let out a small huff as your feet hit the floor, you forced your body out of the bed and to the bathroom.

You ran your hand across the wall for a moment, searching for a light switch before locating it and switching this bathroom lights on. “Gross.” You muttered as you looked in the mirror, your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks still stained with tears, and your hair was an absolute mess.

“Y/n?” Griffin cracked your bedroom door open before stepping in, “Yeah?” You peeked your head out the bathroom door to look at him. “Do you wanna look around town today? I mean it’s not big or nice or anything but I could show you around?” He glanced down at his feet then back up at you.

“Yeah sure, when?” You looked back in the mirror, grabbing your hair brush and began brushing the knots and tangles out of your hair. “I don’t know, whenever you get ready I guess.” Griffin shrugged, turning to walk out of the room. “Ok, I’ll be ready in a little bit.” You called to him, continuing to aggressively brush.

Griffin smiled to himself as he walked down the hallway, not only was he actually wanting to show his older sister around but he wanted to show off that his older sister had a Camaro. (idk, change it whatever car you want but I am just IN LOVE with ‘79 Camaros. Sue me.)

—————

“You ready to go?” You knocked on Griffins door, hearing rustling before getting a response. “Yeah! I’ll be out in a second, lemme find my shoes!” He called from the other side of the door, “Ok, I’ll be outside waiting!” You called back, walking off.

“Griffins gonna show me around town, do you need anything while we’re out?” You stopped before leaving to ask your mom a question, “Hmm, Yes, actually. We need more milk.” She responded, glancing up from her book for a second to think. “Alright, we’ll be back in a little bit.” You said as you walked out of the door, spinning the key ring on your finger.

Griffin came speed walking out as you unlocked the car and opened up the door, “What’re you so excited about?” You chuckled, sitting down in the seat as he opened up the passenger door. “Nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders, giving you a slight smirk. “Yeah, right. Buckle up.” You shook your head as you pulled out of the driveway.

Griffin named off the names of who lived in what house and what family owned what business or a certain memory he had tied to a certain area as you drove down the streets, clear to avoid any road that may lead to the neighborhood in which Griffins now dead captor used to live in.

—————

After aimlessly driving you pulled into a gas station ‘Grab N’ Go’, you pulled into a pump spot. “Do you want anything to drink while I’m in there?” You asked as you opened up your wallet, grabbing the money out of it. “I’ll just go with you.” Griffin said as he opened up the door.

“Alright.” You mumbled as you got out as well, walked towards the gas station doors. Griffin opened up the door for you, walking in after. You looked around briefly, noticing a curly blonde headed boy at the pinball machine in the corner then looking over to the cash register before following Griffin to the back towards the drinks.

“That kid at the Pinball machine is Vance Hopper, he’s one of the boys who got kidnapped after I did…” Griffin leaned closer towards you, whispering in a hush tone. You glanced over your shoulder at Vance one more time, “Yeah, it looks like him.” You whispered back as you walked through the aisles.

Once you reached the long row of refrigerators you picked out your drink, Griffin got a coke. You walked back up to the counter, setting the drinks down along with the money. “These drinks and 15 on pump 5, please.” You glanced out the window as the cashier took your money and scanned your items.

The sound of ringing and clicking from the pinball machine in the back faded away, you glanced over your shoulder as you felt eyes boring into the back of your head. The cashier handed Griffin the drinks and handed you the change, you turned around and just as you were about to walk out Griffin got stopped and started talking to the blonde.

“Oh yeah, this is my older sister, Y/n.” Griffin reached back, tugging on your shirt to drag you into the conversation. “Hi.” You quietly muttered, subtly stabbing your brother with your elbow. “Hi, I’m Vance.” He tried giving you a slight smile but Griffin suspiciously narrowed his eyes.

“I gotta go pump gas.” You muttered to Griffin, leaving the store as you walked outside to your beloved Camaro. Griffin and Vance continued talking about whatever Griffin and Vance talk about.

“If all the guys up here look like that then damn, this place is a hundred times better than *insert ur old home*” You mumbled under your breath, unhooking the pump and placing the nozzle into the tank.

Once you were done you headed back inside to tell Griffin it was time to go or he was walking back home, and there was no way in hell you were letting that happen after what went down last time he went back home alone.

“Griff, let’s go.” You clanked the keys around in an annoying manner to break up the conversation, “Alright, fine.” He huffed, as they wrapped their conversation up you noticed Vance sneaking glances and stares at you.

“And that’s when-…Look at me not my sister.” Griffin caught Vance red handed, the blondes face turned bright red as he looked back at Griffin. “Shut the hell up.” He rolled his eyes, “Y’know what, you don’t deserve my story.” Griffin joked as he mocked Vance’s eye roll.

“Thank the lord.” Vance smirked, “Asshole.” Griffin muttered, “Are you here to stay or just visiting?” Vance looked over at you, his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’m here to stay.” You gave an awkward smile, redirecting your gaze to the floor.

Vance nodded, “Ok, let’s go.” Griffin said quickly before Vance had the chance to say anything else, practically forcing you to follow him out the car.

“Dude, what the hell was that?” You chuckled as you got into the car, looking over at Griffin. “What?” He acted clueless as he opened up his drink, taking a sip. “You practically just drug me out of there after dragging me into that conversation.” You started the car as you spoke.

“I saved you, trust me.” He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking over at you. “From what?” You shook your head with a chuckle, “You’ll find out in time, Y/n, you’ll find out.” He said half jokingly, half serious as you drove off.

—————

Alright this concludes the first chapter, sorry for any spelling errors or anything I’m currently half asleep but I’m still writing because the people get what the people want. Goodnight, dawgs. I’ll post chapter two sometime tomorrow.

[the-broken-truth]

Greeting sir, I was wondering, could we have an Yandere Batfamily with an Anti-Hero Demon Male!Reader who's like this ruthless and brutal vigilante with a badass name like the Reaper or something like that? (sorry if it seems like too much)

Broken Truth: It's not too much, Anon, but I am a woman; thought I would let you know that just in case you make another request to me. Now, let the words weave together.

The Batfamily were dealing with a force unlike any other in this world, something completely otherworldly and dangerous - well, dangerous for the crime in Gotham City. For the past few weeks, the bodies of criminals have been located with their bodies either charred to the core to the point all their blood was burned in their bodies and their faces were recognizable. One of the bodies that were able to the seen was a serious killer that attacked people in the alleyways his head missing and the tattoos on his body were still intact. When the noise that he was killed, the people of Gotham rejoiced and welcomed the new hero that they called 'The Reaper'.

Soon, the streets of Gotham were quiet as more bodies of killers and villains were showing up in the alleys, and Batman was going to do something about it.

He placed cameras in the alleys to see if he could capture any footage of this mystery Reaper and luck was on his side the very next night when the footage of a man attacking a woman in a central alley appeared and another figure appeared out of a cyclone of fire, scaring both the man and the woman. The man pulled out a knife and charged the Reaper but his hand was grabbed and ripped off with a single motion. The thief fell to the ground and held his bleeding shoulder where his arm once was and the Batfamily watched as fire engulfed Reaper's Hands before he grabbed the man's face and began to burn him alive. Once the thief was dead, Reaper checked on the woman and erased her memory before leaving the alley in a flicker of fire.

"A Brutal Bastard, I like him already." Red Hood smirked under his hood.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I approve of him, Father; he's been keeping Gotham safe from the things that go bump in the night while we've been knocking heads with Meta-Humans." Damian said with a smirk of his own.

"He's strong. We need him in the family, Bruce." Dick said with no hesitation.

"I agree. We find the Reaper and get him to join us - leave him no choice." Bruce said.

"Right." All the sons said before departing to find the Famous Reaper and make him a part of the Batfamily as Bat-Reaper or Reaper-Bat, whichever he chooses.

Bruce began preparing a room in Wayne Manor with Fire-resistant walls and furniture.

Damian watched Reaper's Fighting Style on the videos and tried to copy it but it just wasn't the same as having a teacher - when Reaper joined the family, he was going to ask him to teach him how to fight the way he did.

Bruce sent Jason and Dick to look for Reaper's Hideout but the two of them were having a hard time finding out - it was clear that he wasn't human so it was possible that his hideout wasn't on the Mortal Plain of Existence.

Then, the night came when Reaper came back to look for dangers in Gotham City and the Batfamily found him about to kill another criminal, Batman shot him in the back with a tranquilizer laced with ice, knocking him out and collared him with a device that prevented him for using his powers before gathering him in the batmobile before the family headed back to the Batcave.

Upon arriving, Reaper woke in a glass box with a bed before the entire Batfamily. He tried to use his powers to escape but he found out he couldn't use them - the collar around his neck was laced with Suppression Runes that negated his demonic powers.

"Hello, Reaper. My Name is Batman and these are my sons, now your brothers, and I am your father now. You are a member of our family." Bruce said with a smile under his mask.

"Welcome to the Batfamily, Brother." The Current Robin said with a smirk on his face. Reaper looked at them and knew they weren't going to let him go and he wasn't going to try to escape 4 on one, so he was going to play nice until they took his collar off out him, then he was going to leave.

[rinniekawa]

CORNELIA STREET ~~ suna rintaro

pairing: suna rintaro x gn!reader 

warnings: my english , fluff, bit angst :)

w.count:  977

30.12.2021: It’s been a year since you saw Suna for the last time.

As your feet walk across the street that you prefer not to mention the name, your mind brings memories from your senior year: the rainy afternoons spent under golden awning after lunching together.

It was something natural – the cycle of life:  you lose someone, someone new appears, you lose that person and so goes on. But Suna, above every person you ever liked, losing him was like being hit by a truck where your hands and feet are tied, leaving you no escape. The pain of not having him still weakens you and still your body moves to that street every day reminiscing his presence on every building’s brick and sidewalks.

Your head tilts and something closer to a smile appears on your face. That bar. You used to live next to that small bar. As you walk to the other side, you glue your forehead in the clean window, smiling. Everything looks the same.

 Then why does everything feel so different?

 It’s getting late, 11:53pm.

 You don’t want to, but you have to. Your arms hug your body against the black coat before making your way home. Maybe you shouldn't have gone out for a walk, perhaps it was a really bad idea. Terrible, in fact. Everything in that street seemed to scream his name and you hated the feeling.

 “What?” You answered your phone. It was your older sister.

“Uh Y/n…”

“What?” Your feet stopped and both eyebrows furrowed with the hesitation coming from the other side.

“Someone’s here.” She whispers.

“Oh it must be John.” You huffed in disappointment. “I forgot to send him the files he asked. Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes.”

 You waited for an answer, but nothing. At least, nothing you could understand. From the other line, you could hear your sister talking with someone, in this case, John but then every drop of oxygen was taken from you as you hear the new voice joining the conversation.

 “Y/n.”

 Both hands shaking, heart beating fast and burning cheeks. The warm voice wasn’t a hostage from that street anymore.

 “S-suna.”

“Y/n where are you?”

“Why you’re here?”

“Just answer me.”

“I-”

“You should turn off your location. Wait for me.”

 Those were his last words before a snowball started to form inside your stomach, cooked with all your questions, insecurities, fears, and euphoria. You couldn’t feel your hands anymore by how cold they were.

 “Y/n.” A large hand caressed your shoulder, making you turn around.

 You were 100% sure that this time he was real. It wasn’t a dream, or an imaginative scenario created in your head. There he was, in the middle of the snowy night, with you. His hair was longer than you remembered but his eyes were still the same. Or maybe you couldn’t confirm the likeliness anymore after 365 days without seeing him.

 “Rin.”

“Y/n. Fuck.” He sighed in relief and hugged you like his life depended on it. One of his hands made their way to your scruff, pulling you closer and the other caged your waist against his body.

 Your mind was racing. So many questions and feelings at the same time. There weren’t enough words to describe everything you were trying to assimilate. You rested your forehead on his chest, hearing the poetical melody – his heartbeat.

 “Why are you here? You were supposed to be on the other side of the planet.”

“Well, it’s Christmas and my grandpa invited us.” He smiled before disentangling his touch from you. Cold. “And I have something to solve here.”

“Then why are you here, again?” Silly of you to think he returned for you. Sometimes, life isn’t a fairytale.

“Because you are my something to solve.” Suna rolled his eyes. “We never had a chance to talk after I left.”

“You stopped answering my texts.” You corrected it.

“No, I lost everything on my old phone. And when I finally got a new one, I realized I couldn’t reach you anymore because you refuse to have social media.”

 Maybe you had twitter in which the latest tweet was about how much you missed him. Maybe you shouldn’t share it with him for now. Who knows, after deleting them.

 “I’m so sorry.” You bite your lip, feeling a thick chain of guilt running through your veins. “This whole time I thought you-“

“I know, asshole.” He smiled. “Thank god I came back before you decide to take a plain t-“

 Suna’s eyes widened as your warm lips sealed his. Eagerly your hands cupped his cheeks in hope to keep him there forever. His lips are sweetened by the usual lip balm and your heart stops you from hearing what’s going on around you. You missed that taste so much.

 The boy who previously was in shock, surrendered himself to the ill miss of your touch and smell. Both hands encircled your waist and his teeth gripped your lower lip softly before kissing them again. Your perfume was still the same, the slightly cracked lips were still the same and maybe that was the only thing he would ask to remain the same until the end of times.

 “Promise me you’ll create at least a fucking Instagram account.” He whispered between small kisses.

“I promise.” You laughed softly.

“And you owe me dinner.”

“I think I can live with that.”

 This was his way to tell you that it didn’t matter how many years could pass, the idea of losing you or something changing between both of you, was the only reality he didn’t want to face.

 Just like you.

 Because you knew if someday this ended, then the love would be death for both of you. Just like the idea of walking that street again. 

rinniekawa, 2021

[spiriteddreams]

Destined Parting

Pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x Reader Warnings: angst hooray!! Word Count: ~1.7k A/N: got inspiration from this by listening to destined parting from the genshin ost so :)

He’s a blur of teal, white, and red that races down the streets of Inazuma, eyes wild, almost afraid as he searches desperately for any of his friends. In his hands is a crumpled piece of paper stained with paragraphs of ink. Broken promises, lost dreams, a final farewell. Kaedehara Kazuha holds onto that paper like it’s a lifeline, the cloth on his arm snapping in the wind behind him as he runs. He doesn’t care that people stare at him with concern in their eyes, not accustomed to seeing such a calm man in a state of frenzy. 

I would like to apologize in advance.

He knocks on Yoimiya’s door, heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts as he waits for the door to open. It feels like forever, like each second is dragging on, laughing cruelly in his face cruelly as he hears giddy footsteps before the door is thrown open and Yoimiya’s bright grin drops from her face. She knows. 

“Kazuha?” Her tone betrays the expression on her face. But the lonesome samurai knows better. He’s known Yoimiya for so long and he’s well aware of the fact that she’s putting on a facade right now.

“Please, you have to know.” He’s begging, voice breaking off at the end. But Kazuha doesn’t care how desperate he sounds, not when he’s trying to piece together the fragments of a puzzle that you’ve left behind. There’s too much packed in such few words and all he wants is to find you and understand everything. But he knows his own words are cryptic enough. The letters he’s written to you have never been straightforward and clear to understand, and now he wants to just let it all spill out in person so the two of you can end this dance you’ve engaged in for so long.

I know this isn’t ideal for either of us, but I’ve already made my decision.

Yoimiya stares at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. Her eyes flicker away for a split second, as if she’s contemplating what she wants to tell him. And Kazuha feels his fingers tighten around the crumpled piece of paper in his hands. He needs to find you, he needs to shove the paper in your hands and just be honest with you rather than honeycoat his words. He hates that Yoimiya is considering lying to him like this, right in front of him, clearly knowing that he’s also aware of what might be going on. He waits one second, two seconds, three seconds—

“Komore Teahouse.” Her voice is clipped, and Kazuha watches the way her fingers curl into fists before they relax. And before he can turn away to run towards the location, she’s calling out his name again. Instead of the cheerful look that Yoimiya has always had on her face, it’s been replaced by a hard expression, her eyes steely and voice laced with warning.

“Watch your words.” The door slams shut. Kazuha doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to think about what Yoimiya’s told him, but he doesn’t have the time to mull over them. Instead, he’s turning on his heel to run, mumbling apologies as he cuts through the crowded streets towards the tea house. 

I think we’ve both known the truth for a long time now.

His words cut deep and he knows. But your words are also burning into his mind, searing into his memory, making their mark forever. It’s cowardly to pass on a letter rather than face someone and say everything then and there. But Kazuha knows there’s something else you’re hiding so through written and spoken words, he’s hoping to make things clear. But it’s obvious that there’s something that’s made it impossible for you to confront him. And the fact that you’ve lost some of that trust in him, makes his chest hurt. He yearns to see you again. It’s been a little over a week since he last saw you, and Kazuha knows he should have made more of an effort. He’s well aware that Gorou and Kokomi have pulled him aside to pass on quiet words about how much you’ve missed him. And foolishly, Kazuha thought that his return might mend the distance that had grown between the two of you, that seeing him in person might heal over the cracks left behind in his seemingly poetic words scribbled in ink.

I wish I had the courage to admit it to you in person.

He bursts into the teahouse, startling Thoma, who had been sitting at the bar, nursing a hot cup of tea. Hot anger flares in Kazuha for a split second at the sight of the blonde man, but he does his best to keep his composure as he clears his throat. Thoma’s eyebrows quirk up but his eyes are narrowed, a clear sign of his disinterest in what Kazuha has to say. Their friendship has been strained, to say the least, and Kazuha knows it has to do with the letter that’s in his hands right now. Thoma doesn’t need to read it, to know what it says so he merely scoffs, and turns back to his tea.

But I’ve been in your way for far too long, holding on and preventing you from pursuing what you’ve wanted, freedom.

Kazuha is patient however, and he waits in silence, his chest rising and falling quickly as he calms down from running through Inazuma. Thoma only lasts a few seconds before he’s placing the cup of tea down on the table and turning to fully face the samurai. Thoma knows. Archons of course Thoma knows. He’s always been close to you, closer than you and Kazuha have ever been and just the thought of that pokes at him. He hates that you’ve entrusted everything to Thoma when it should have been him. Because for the longest time, it was always him that you would go to with bright laughter and a grin stretched across your lips. Kazuha knows that he shouldn’t be thinking this way, shouldn’t be jealous of it all, but yet he remains glaring at Thoma, the paper in his hands feeling more crumpled with each second.

Jealousy can feel like a rather ridiculous emotion, yet here I am.

“Please tell me.” Thoma stares at Kazuha blankly before his eyes shift down to his tea.

I know I’m a coward for hiding behind these words.

“Why?” Thoma swirls the tea in his cup, “Give me one good reason why I should tell you.”

But I know you love him more than you could ever love me.

“Because I love them.” Kazuha’s chest aches at the words. He means them, he truly does. And despite all that he’s foolishly said and done, this is the last chance that he has to attempt to mend things, and he swears there’s nothing that’s going to stop him. He’s so close to losing all his calm and lunging towards Thoma when he speaks again.

“The docks at Ritou, but you’re probably too late.” By the time Thoma’s finished his sentence, Kazuha’s already pushed out the door and sprinting down the streets. He’s pulling himself up onto a horse before he knows it, thundering through the plains and praying silently in his head that you’re still there. And by the time he reaches the usually quiet harbour, he’s discouraged to find out there’s far too many people, men and women shouting commands and yelling out bargains for goods just unloaded from ships. It’s a sea of people and Kazuha’s drowning in it. His hands are shaking as he unfolds the paper, hands brushing over the ink.

So by the time you’re reading this I’ve likely left.

His eyes are stinging with tears as he stumbles onto the wooden planks that make up the docks. He scans each and every boat, hoping that you’re standing on one and that seeing him will make you smile and rush back to him; that you wouldn’t leave.

Yoimiya and Thoma have been ever so helpful, please don’t hate them.

But Kazuha doesn’t see you anywhere.

We can call this a destined parting I suppose, and if we do meet again, perhaps things will change.

Instead, you’ve already boarded a ship headed for Archons knows where. Perhaps Liyue, a beautiful land full of opportunities to allow yourself to start anew. No, Kazuha thinks to himself. He knows where you’ve gone. Mondstadt. It’s freedom you’ve always looked toward, it’s always been a speck in your eyes whenever he returns to talk about his journeys outside of Inazuma. But never once did he ever think that you too would want to leave the comfort that home brought you. All simply because Kazuha had always been far too blunt with his own words, brushing off your subtle actions of affection. And he knows it. He’s well aware of it.

Kaedheara Kazuha, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.

“I love you too.” His hands are trembling, tears stinging in his eyes as he rereads line after line. He can hear your voice with each word and it kills him that he can’t hear those words in person. You’re not standing in front of him to confess and then hear him admit his own feelings towards you. He’s going to Mondstadt. Kazuha’s already made that decision. You’ve already slipped through his fingers once, and he refuses to let you do it again. 

All my love, (y/n).

---------

I would like to apologize in advance. I know this isn’t ideal for either of us, but I’ve already made my decision. I think we’ve both known the truth for a long time now. I wish I had the courage to admit it to you in person. But I’ve been in your way for far too long, holding on and preventing you from pursuing what you’ve wanted, freedom. Jealousy can feel like a rather ridiculous emotion, yet here I am. I know I’m a coward for hiding behind these words. But I know you love him more than you could ever love me. So by the time you’re reading this I’ve likely left. Yoimiya and Thoma have been ever so helpful, please don’t hate them. We can call this a destined parting I suppose, and if we do meet again, perhaps something will be different. Kaedheara Kazuha, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. All my love, (y/n).

A/N: drove 6 hours home for thanksgiving, got home at 1am, wrote most of this and i’ve just now finished it woop

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