#they really should have stayed in the alps :(

[girl-lostconnection]

Concept of a concept time:

On my delusional and creepy men shenanigans again. Last time I brought you Ghost, today I bring you König.

König who spends his rare leave in his cabin in Alps, far away from people that could stare, even further from clients or teammates. Just a little time for his own to heal up after the last unfortunate op.

Reconnect with nature, chop some wood, reassemble the rifle for the fifteenth time this week. Nothing exciting, but also nothing unpredictable.

Quiet controlled environment where nothing out of the ordinary happens. No gunshots, no blood, no death.

Just him, thick woods and mountains.

König who gets two people on his doorstep and yeah, he should have guessed that if there is a road nearby, there will be tourists stranded in the snow storm.

His mistake, next year he will take care of it and demolish that fucking thing once and for all.

Still he notices you just behind the friend of yours, your eyes the only thing that he can see — lower part of your face wrapped in scarf and that’s smart, the winters are vicious in the mountains and you probably would like your nose to not get a frost bite.

König who lets the two of you in his house, not stepping aside so you have to squeeze past him, his eyes a little manic as he tries to see a little more of you. What are you doing this deep in the mountain?

What brought you to König’s doorstep?

He thinks about it for a moment, staring down at you while your friend chats him up filling the thick silence. You do your best not to look at the menacing giant of a man who locked and deadbolted the door as soon as you stepped in.

You try not to think about him pocketing the key.

Would you like to stay for dinner?

König watches you in the reflection of the small window above his sink, corner of his lips twitching when you finally shed you coat. And nothing else.

Your scarf stays on, wrapped securely, nor do you pull off your gloves

Skittish. Wary. Careful.

Good girl.

You shouldn’t trust a stranger.

And you definitely shouldn’t trust König.

Not when you stumble right into his den, shaking and tense, your gut telling you that something is wrong.

Not when he has locked all three locks on his doors the moment you and your unfortunate…who is that guy by the way, Schatzi?

Doesn’t seem to be a husband since there is no ring, hardly a boyfriend with how little he checks on you (or a really bad one and therefore he should be gone anyway) and König doesn’t see any resemblance for you to be family so…a friend maybe?

Well, that’s just too bad. König doesn’t need this many people in his house.

König watches your reflection, his eyes drinking into obvious roundness to your figure. Shoulders broad and legs strong, even in that thick woollen sweater and full winter gear.

König forces himself to look away, his fingers twitching, when he shifts his weight from one leg to another, his cock chubbing up.

Pretty girl with body that makes his mouth water. Pretty girl on whose thighs alone König could feast all winter.

Oh, that is so fucking good.

Mother used to say that those who wait patiently get what they yearn for and it seems like König just got exactly what he wanted

Danke, Mutter, danke shön. You were right as always.

König who hums, offering you to wait out the storm in here, while he pretends to make you and your friend some tea.

König who slips a knife of his in the sleeve and turns around, his voice cracking like a faulty vinyl record when you look him in the eyes again.

Your friend will have to go, Schatzi.

But don’t worry, your König will take care of everything. Your König will take care of you, he promises. You won’t need for anything, süße.

After all, what kind of husband would he make if he neglected a wife that fate dropped right in his hands? It was meant to be, Schatzi, he just knows it.

And so will you. Even if it takes time.

But not to worry, you will have it in abundance. After all, you are home now. And this is where you will stay.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 16.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Shit got real for me. I'm going back to college!! It's been a bit of a ride since my acceptance and enrollment, so I haven't had a lot of time to write. But i promise i'm back and comin in swinging!! Now we're gonna get into Nat's part of the big mission, and then we'll be back to Bucky and our soldier <3 Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 14 / chapter 15

The Swiss Alps were much colder than the assassin had been expecting. While Natasha Romanova knew the terrain almost like the back of her hand, it was unusually cold for the early morning. The watch on her wrist was reading 4:38am, and though is was typical for a November morning to be cold, Natasha could feel the weather permeating through her body.

No matter how much the Red Room had tried to condition her body for any climate, Natasha always hated the cold the most. Rubbing her gloved hands together, Natasha watched as her breath materialized in front of her as she breathed out, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Clint, you almost done back there?"

The sound of leaves crunching made Natasha turn, and Clint gave her an annoyed expression as he came out from behind a large tree, shaking his shoulders.

"You try taking a piss in the dead cold. It's not fun."

Wanda made a noise of disgust, shaking her head with vigor as she begged.

"Please, never think so loudly again."

Natasha chuckled, and Clint just rolled his eyes before giving Wanda a firm look as she stated, her eyes glowing red and fingertips twitching slightly.

"I do not sense anybody within the building. It is...empty."

"That's either a really good thing or a really bad thing."

Clint muttered, and Natasha frowned deeply to herself, the gears in her head turning.

"If Rollins isn't here...he wasn't in Germany like he was supposed to be...just where would a rat hide?"

Wanda shrugged and answered with a slight look of unsureness.

"If I were a rat, I would hide where nobody would think to look...and that has plenty of resources for me to use."

Clint hummed, rubbing his chin as he looked up at the brightening sky.

"I mean, it's a stretch...but what if he's hiding out with the CIA?"

Natasha huffed, shaking her head.

"I knew I should have went anyway. Let's just check this building to see if there's any valuable information and destroy the place once we're done."

Clint immediately took out his bow and gestured his arm out.

"After you, miladies."

"Really? I think you should go first."

Clint gave Natasha a glare while Wanda chuckled and shook her head.

"You two fight like a married couple."

"We would have killed each other a lot sooner."

Clint rolled his eyes before he leapt down the side of the hill that was sitting right next to the HYDRA base, his voice carrying through the air.

"I'm leaving now!"

Wanda and Natasha both shared a look, and Wanda carefully levitated the two of them down the hill, leaving Clint to fall behind as they both landed gracefully on the ground. While Clint grumbled to himself as he saved himself from tripping, Wanda was squinting slightly, asking Natasha as the woman used a pair of binoculars to get a closer look of the outside of the building.

"So, why not ask for my assistance in finding out who this woman was? I could have easily looked through her memories...even the ones that were locked away."

Natasha hummed, shrugging her shoulders.

"You were on a mission, and by the time you were back, Princess Shuri had already gotten through. Though, having you in Wakanda when she was reactivated would have been a lot more convenient."

"You're telling me. My back is still aching."

Clint muttered before he grabbed his bow, hitting a switch to lock the parts into place as he gazed around the building. Wanda just shook her head as Natasha spoke, a frown on the assassins face.

"No sign of life. Nothing on thermal. You're still not getting anything, Wanda?"

"Nothing; not even underground."

Clint gave Natasha a look, stating quietly.

"I don't like this, Nat. Something isn't right. Why would the facility be completely cleared out like this unless there's someone already on the inside?"

Wanda spoke up while Natasha was thinking.

"The decoy was supposed to be in Morocco, but if that wasn't the true decoy...perhaps the missions we are leading are."

Natasha stood up, giving Wanda and Clint firm looks.

"Clint, get a hold of King T'Challa immediately. Tell him that there might be a possible mole and to go on lockdown while we get back. This is starting to get complicated."

Clint nodded, walking off a bit as he began to make the phone call, and Wanda frowned again.

"I...hope that I am not in trouble for this, but I looked through Clint's memories of when he and Steve went to the CIA. The Director...what if he is hiding Rollins?"

Natasha muttered, shaking her head as they began to quickly trek back up the hill.

"It would make sense. If he was as nervous as Clint says he was, then perhaps he knows more than he is letting on."

Wanda frowned more, shaking her head before she muttered softly.

"The woman's face...what would they had done to cause such scars like that?"

Natasha was quiet and she sighed.

"HYDRA and the Red Room don't care about your autonomy. They only care about what you can do for them...what you know...what your assets are. If you don't comply, then you get punished. Even the slightest misstep could cost you a broken leg."

'Again!'

Penché Arabesque, Italian Fouetté, Quadruple Pirouette. If you do not dance with the grace of God, may he strike you down with the bite of a thousand widows.

'What if I fail?'

'You never fail.'

Natasha shook her head slightly, and Wanda pursed her lips almost as if she was ashamed, and Natasha turned to Wanda with a frown.

"With HYDRA, it's worse. You've seen what they did to Bucky...the hours of torture and beatings and wiping. I'm sure you can imagine how much worse it became for the others after Bucky's escape."

"Truthfully, I am unsure if I wish to know."

Clint interrupted the two of them with a grave look, his eyes directly onto Natasha as he warned.

"We have an issue. Tony and Steve both had the same problem at their locations. Based emptied, not a soul in sight. We're all on the same conclusion that someone is already on the inside...or they're about to try. We need to get back right now. T'Challa is already moving (Y/n) to a more safe location with Shuri and has arranged the Dora Milaje to stand guard as well."

Natasha frowned and stated, glancing at Wanda.

"You two go on ahead. I'm going to search through the facility for any hard evidence that we might need."

Wanda raised a brow at Natasha as she asked.

"How will you get back?"

The Black Widow just shrugged.

"I'll hitch a ride."

Clint smirked slightly before gesturing with his head at Wanda.

"Come on, we gotta go. Nat knows what she is doing."

Wanda seemed reluctant before she nodded, and the two Avengers were quick to get back to the quinjet. Once they were out of range, Natasha pulled out her phone and sighed as she dialed a number and waited as it rang.

"Romanoff, do you have any idea what time it is right now?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your precious beauty sleep?"

The man on the other side of the line grumbled before he asked with an annoyed tone.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I need to call in a favor."

-WAKANDA-BUCKY-

His blood was freezing and boiling at the same time. Thoughts were racing through his mind at high speeds, jumbled and unfocused as he stood in front of the woman that was currently in a cryostasis pod in the deepest part of the kingdom. The Dora Milaje were surrounding him, spears at the ready and pointed at the door.

Shuri was currently typing away at her computer as she communicated with the king, and Bucky couldn't help but to feel a surge of angry anticipation go through him.

"What the hell is going on, Princess Shuri?"

Shuri gave Bucky a grim expression, stating.

"The Avengers, except for Tony, have not found anything. All of the facilities were completely empty and cleaned out...we believe that there is a mole."

Bucky cursed to himself, asking with an accusatory tone that made Okoye give him a death glare.

"Great. I thought Wakanda was supposed to be the most secure place in the world?"

Shuri looked frustrated, throwing a hand up in the air.

"It is not completely foolproof! I do not know why my brother claims as such. Every program, every barrier, every theory will have weak spots. The issue is when the opposing factor knows how to exploit that."

Bucky just remained quiet, and Shuri stated.

"We do not know when the enemy will attempt to strike. The safest thing is to keep (Y/n) here and guarded while Tony goes over what he has found at his facility."

Bucky glanced back at the woman that was currently encased in ice, her expression soft and peaceful as she slept, and Bucky muttered with a low tone.

"I'll stay here with (Y/n). If you're up there with Tony, it'll cut the work time in half. If you're comfortable with it, having half of the Dora Milaje to stay here with me would increase our chances tenfold."

Shuri nodded before stating.

"It would as we do not know how many agents Rollins will be bringing with him. However, in order to ensure my brother's safety, I will take all but one. I will leave it up to them to decide who stays with you."

Shuri then walked closer to Bucky, the man leaning down as the princess whispered softly.

"If all else fails, Mr. Barnes, taking her out of cryo might be your best bet. It will be too troublesome to try to transport the pod...but with the woman herself? It might be the best option."

Bucky frowned, shaking his head slightly.

"Defrost can take a long time...time that we don't have. If it comes down to that, I don't think there will be enough time to defrost and transport."

Shuri then gave Bucky a look before she backed away.

"Then, Mr. Barnes? Make it work. She's depending on you...on us all."

Bucky felt shivers go down his spine, and he pursed his lips as he watched Shuri and all but one of the Dora Milaje leave. The remaining agent stood at the door, straight and poised; almost statue-like as she awaited for trouble or orders...or both. Bucky turned back to the woman and he frowned. Would defrosting her now be a good choice?

There was a part of Bucky that wanted to in order to tell the woman the truth: that her Handler was coming after her, and it was time to make a choice. However, would that be fair? Would it be fair to put this woman, who had endured years and years of torture and pain and suffering, through the experience of seeing her Handler again?

Bucky ran a hand through his hair before scratching at his beard. The fire within the torches in the room flickered, and the light glinted off of his metal arm, making Bucky look down at it.

'It's not gonna be easy. Lots of people know about the past...but we can make it a much better future if we stick together. I'm here to help you, Buck...and I certainly am not going to punish you.'

Bucky remembered that he had been making coffee when Steve had come by, sitting down at the table with a steaming cup of his own; that familiar solemn look in those blue eyes. He remembered that Doris Day was playing on a record that Tony had found for him, much to his dismay and the pushing of the rest of the Avengers.

'People don't forget, Steve. How can I make amends for the things that I've done when all people see when they look at me is the Winter Soldier?'

Despite the moment being serious, Steve couldn't help but to crack a small smile.

'Give them a new face to look at then.'

'You're a punk, you know that?'

Give them a new face to look at. Bucky clenched his fist before looking up at the woman in the pod and he took a deep breath.

"I'm gonna get into so much trouble for this."

-

STORY NOTES: Natasha, Clint, and Wanda are in the Swiss Alps for their mission. It is 4:38am, and Natasha notes how cold it is. She muses that no matter how hard the Red Room had conditioned her, Natasha hated the cold the most. Clint and Wanda are officially introduced, and Wanda makes the observation that the HYDRA base they are at seems to be empty. Clint offers that Rollins could be hiding with the CIA since the other bases seemed to be empty as well, and Natasha decided that the group should still investigate the building just in case.

While Wanda checks through the building again, Clint becomes uneasy, telling Natasha that he doesn't like the situation. Wanda mentions the Decoy in Morocco, and points out that the true decoys are the missions the Avengers are leading at this moment. Natasha orders Clint to get in touch with T'Challa, and Wanda reveals that she looked through Clint's memories of when he went to the CIA with Steve. Wanda questions the Director's credibility, and Natasha agrees.

Wanda then becomes solemn as she asks what could have caused the scars on the woman's face, and Natasha is quick to reply. She is then sent into a flashback of when she was forced to learn ballet, and Natasha quickly regains her wits, explaining further that since Wanda was able to see what HYDRA did to Bucky, it is obvious the torture became worse after his escape.

Clint comes back to inform Natasha and Wanda that Tony and Steve both were unsuccessful with their missions as well, and that everyone is in agreement that someone is already on the inside. They all begin to prepare to depart, but Natasha hangs back. Wanda is quick to question her, but Natasha answers that she will be able to find her way back. Natasha calls in a favor to an unknown person, and the point of view changes.

The scene opens to Wakanda and Bucky once more. Bucky is anxious and nervous as the Wakandan's mobilize and get ready for an attack; moving (Y/n) (L/n) to the deepest and safest part of the Citadel. Bucky questions Shuri on what is going on, and Shuri reveals that the Avengers, except for Tony, have not found anything at all and all the facilities were completely empty. She reveals that she believes there is a mole.

Bucky becomes frustrated, and Shuri tells him that none of them know when the enemy will attempt to strike and the best course of action is to keep (Y/n) in the safehaven until further notice. Bucky announces that he will stay with (Y/n) so Shuri may help Tony. Shuri agrees, and then advises Bucky that taking the woman out of the cryopod will be the best course of action if all else fails. Bucky refuses, stating that defrost will take too long, but Shuri refuses to take no for an answer.

Shuri and the Dora Milaje then leave, leaving one agent alone with Bucky and (Y/n), and Bucky begins to have an internal dilemma. after experiencing a recent flashback of a conversation between him and Steve, Bucky makes his choice.

TRANSLATIONS:

None

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane

[forthebrokenheartedthings]

When The Falling Stops

Pairing: Steve Rogers and X Reader

Summary: Steve wakes from a nightmare—again. Only this time, he doesn’t lose Bucky. This time, it’s you.

In the fallout, he tells you the truth: why he stayed. Why he didn’t go back. Why the life he almost walked away from is the only one he ever really wanted.

TW: PTSD, talks of death and dying

AN: I’ve spent a lot of time in Bucky’s head recently and wrote a nightmare sequence for him. While I was doing it I got the idea for this little one shot and wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy ✨

It’s cold

Not the kind that bites at your skin. The kind that sinks deeper. The kind you feel in your chest.

Steve’s standing there trying to figure out where he is.

Somewhere in the Alps, maybe. Or a memory dressed to look like one. His boots crunch through the ice as he moves forward, slow, unsure. The landscape stretches in grayscale.

“Steve.”

The voice hits him before the wind does.

He turns.

And there he is.

Bucky.

Whole. Human. Standing just a few feet away in his old army fatigues, gloves half-removed, smile half-wry like he knows something Steve doesn’t.

“Buck?” Steve breathes.

“You look like shit.”

Steve almost laughs. He doesn’t.

“I thought—”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Me too.”

The silence that follows is the kind Steve only hears in dreams. Everything still. Air too thin. Snow frozen in midair.

“You’re not real,” Steve says quietly.

Bucky shrugs.

Steve closes his eyes, just for a second. “I miss you.”

“Doesn’t make it your fault,” Bucky says, softer now. “You keep carrying ghosts that were never yours.”

“I should’ve done more.”

“You always say that.”

“I should’ve—”

“Steve.”

That stops him.

Bucky’s voice changes. Sharper. Urgent.

“Steve,” he says again, this time louder. Closer.

“Steve, MOVE—”

The snow is gone.

The world explodes into heat, fire, glass.

He’s running now—through smoke, through screams. The skyline’s unfamiliar. Europe, maybe. Or somewhere in the Middle East. It’s always shifting.

Someone yells his name into comms—Sam, maybe. Or Maria. The voice warps in his ear, cuts out again.

“Captain, we’ve got hostiles flooding sector three—fall back—”

He doesn’t. He can’t.

There are too many civilians. Too much wreckage. It’s already gone too far.

His shield is a blur—deflecting, shattering, ricocheting off armored plating—but it’s not enough.

There’s a sound behind him.

A familiar one.

His heart stutters.

“Steve!”

He turns.

You’re there.

You’re running toward him across a catwalk high above the battlefield—higher than you should be, too close to the collapse zone.

“NO—!”

He bolts for the staircase, boots sliding through dust and flame.

“Get back!” he shouts into the comm. “Someone get her out of there!”

The support beams groan.

You turn at the sound.

Eyes locking with his.

You know.

Even before it happens—you know.

The floor beneath you cracks.

Steel screams.

“STEVE!”

He dives. Up the stairs, over broken pipes, dodging falling debris.

“I’m coming!”

You don’t wait. You reach for him. Stretching out your hand like you’ve done a hundred times before.

He catches it.

Barely.

Fingers trembling. Grip slick.

“You have to hold on,” he breathes.

You smile—smile—like you’re trying to make him feel better. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve got you. I’ve GOT you—”

“Steve—”

“Don’t say it,” he chokes. “Please don’t say goodbye.”

“I love you.”

The world shifts.

His grip fails.

Your hand slips from his fingers like smoke.

And then—

You fall.

Not fast. Not the way gravity works in the real world.

Just far enough for him to watch every second of it.

You fall.

Again.

Every time, it’s the same.

Every time he wakes up just before your body hits the ground—except he doesn’t wake up.

Not this time.

This time, he sees it. Watches the moment your body vanishes into the dust and fire below. Watches the emptiness after.

And then the silence swallows him whole.

“STEVE!” someone screams in his earpiece.

He’s kneeling now, shaking, blood running down his temple.

He doesn’t move.

You’re gone.

You’re gone and it’s his fault.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them—

He’s back in the snow.

Bucky is gone. The sky is black. His shield is cracked down the middle.

And you’re falling again.

Endless.

Again.

And again.

And again.

He tries to change it.

Tries to grab harder. Move faster. Yell louder.

He screams until his throat shreds.

And every single time—your hand slips from his.

His knees hit the floor, breath ragged, arms limp at his sides.

He can’t breathe. Can’t think. He’s failing.

His voice breaks on a whisper. “Don’t go.”

“Steve.”

The dream doesn’t stop.

He’s still there.

Still on the edge of the collapse, smoke curling around him like ash.

But your voice…

It doesn’t belong to the dream.

“Steve,” it says again—softer. Closer.

Real.

“Hey,” your voice murmurs, warm against the storm. “Come back to me.”

His head jerks.

The fire flickers. The smoke pulls away like curtains.

He sees you through it—blurry, close, real.

“Steve. Wake up.”

Your fingers touch his face.

He gasps.

And the dream shatters.

He wakes with a jolt—full body, breathless panic.

Your name bursts from his lips like a plea.

His eyes fly open, wide and wild, scanning the room like he doesn’t know where he is.

You’re already there. Sitting up, hands cupping his cheeks. “Steve. Hey. It’s me. I’ve got you.”

His eyes finally find you.

He lets out a broken sound—half relief, half something much worse—and then collapses forward, into your arms.

You hold him as tightly as you can.

You don’t ask what he saw. You already know.

“I couldn’t stop it,” he says against your shoulder. “I couldn’t hold on.”

“You didn’t let go.”

“You fell.”

“No,” you whisper, brushing your hand through his damp hair. “I’m right here.”

He’s trembling.

Not like a man who just had a bad dream—but like a man who’s lived through a nightmare he’s convinced was real.

And maybe for him—it was.

“You always fall,” he says, his voice low and cracked. “You. Bucky. Tony. Nat. Everyone.”

His hands fist in your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

“I don’t know how many more times I can lose you.”

You pull him back just enough to meet his eyes—blue, raw, wrecked.

“You don’t have to,” you say. “You don’t have to lose me. Not tonight. Not ever, if I have anything to say about it.”

His lips part. He wants to argue. You see it—he always wants to argue with hope.

But instead, he rests his forehead to yours.

And breathes.

And for the first time since the fall—he starts to believe you.

The kitchen is still dark when you pad in barefoot.

Steve’s already there, sitting at the table in one of his old cotton t-shirts.

You pause in the doorway, watching the light from the stove clock cast faint blue shadows across his face. His hair is still damp. His knuckles still shake.

You know that kind of stillness.

It’s the kind that comes after—after the panic, after the pain, when the world finally stops spinning but the ground doesn’t feel solid yet.

You move quietly. Make two mugs of tea—because coffee feels too loud this morning.

The kettle clicks off.

Neither of you move.

Steve hasn’t touched his tea. Just holds the mug like it might ground him. His eyes are fixed on the window—on the way the pre-dawn fog curls against the glass. His chest rises and falls slowly, but you can still see it.

The echo of the fall.

You reach for his hand across the table. He lets you take it.

He hasn’t said a word since the nightmare.

You can feel it in him, though. That spiral. The storm. The question he never says out loud.

Why you, when the world gave him a perfect ending in the past?

Why this life, when he could’ve had one tied up with a bow and a record player and the woman he promised a dance?

He swallows.

Then, almost too quiet to hear:

“Everyone thought I’d go back.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t look at you. Just keeps watching the window, like he’s talking to the fog.

“They said it without saying it. Nat. Bruce. Even Sam. They all thought when it was over, I’d… I’d cash in my dance card.”

You stay still.

Let him speak.

“I thought about it,” he admits. “God, I thought about it. About what it would be like. That quiet little house. A life without war. A second chance.”

He pauses.

“Then I met you.”

Your heart twists.

He turns toward you, and this time when he speaks, his voice is raw.

“You were now,” he says. “Not a dream. Not a memory. You were messy and alive and frustrating as hell and you saw me. Not the shield. Not the myth. Me.”

You blink back something hot behind your eyes.

“I didn’t stay because I owed it to the world,” he says. “I stayed because the second you walked into my life, I stopped wanting to go back.”

Tears slip down your cheek.

He reaches for you—slow, reverent. Wipes them away with the backs of his fingers like they matter more than anything else in the world.

“I don’t miss a life I never really lived,” he whispers. “I don’t miss the music. Or the war. Or the what-ifs. Because you’re my music now. You’re the life I didn’t know I could have.”

You’re crying now, silently.

And Steve?

Steve smiles. Soft and sure. Like he’s finally breathing right.

“I wake up every morning next to you and it terrifies me,” he says. “Because for the first time in over a hundred years, I have something I can’t lose. Something I don’t want to lose.”

He leans in. Forehead to yours.

“I didn’t stay because it was easier. I stayed because loving you scared me—and I’ve never once run from a fight that mattered.”

Your breath hitches.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“I love you. More than I loved that dream. More than I loved the idea of peace.”

You close your eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper.

He kisses you—like it’s a promise.

Like it’s an answer to every question he’s ever had.

And this time, when he finally goes back to sleep—

He doesn’t dream of the fall.

He dreams of you.

[kigieri]

Wiser

Fernando Alonso × Reader

A nice birthday breakfast with your favourite person.

A/N: A birthday post for myself! Even though it has already been some time. It's short and sweet, just something I gifted myself. It is really hard for me to capture the way Fernando speaks English. I gave it my best shot.

This story on AO3.

It was nice to be able to celebrate her birthday with Fernando. There was no bad blood over him having to spend this time of year at a racetrack halfway across the world, but it was nice to have him home for it, too. They could celebrate together, and even had the time for a little party with friends and family.

She woke up to Fernando stroking her hair, lightly so as not to wake her. She stretched as much as possible without actually compromising the comfortable position she was in, and stretched her neck towards her lover for a kiss. "Happy birthday, hermosa." His voice was a bit rough from sleep, but she could practically hear him smiling.

After turning around, she laid her head on his chest. "Good morning," She muffled into his chest. A slight chuckle could be heard from him. "Do you want to stand up or stay lying?" She craned her neck to look up at him from her lying position and raised an eyebrow. "Stay."

Fernando nodded, returning to stroking her hair. After laying together for another half hour, they decided it was time to stand up. Fernando made her sit down at the little table in the kitchen. They found it more comfortable than the big one in the living room. He was not fond of cooking and refused to do it most of the time, but for her birthday he scrapped together all the talent he did not have, as she slyly remarked.

A few minutes, and her helping out, later, they had food in front of them. In between, they talked about plans for the winter break and what they had been up to while apart.

"If we're spending Christmas in Spain, should we spend new years at home? I think that would be nice." Fernando nodded, not seeming convinced. "Do you want to go to the Alps?" She looked up from her plate. "You don't like it that cold." He shrugged his shoulders. "I will survive." A smile crept onto her face.

She had wanted to spend new years in the Alps for a few years, but had repeatedly indulged Fernando's, and her own, love for warmth and had returned to sunnier places. Him suggesting, offering even, to spend a week in the high altitudes made her feel giddy.

She took a sip from her cup, smiling silently. They had talked about getting engaged, both thinking that they were far enough into their relationship and secure enough for the next step. This meant that Fernando might plan a proposal, either around Christmas while visiting his family, or over the year change.

"I would like that, if you're really okay with it." Fernando waved his hand. "Can go skiing and cook a lot, will be nice." After that, they continued their breakfast until Fernando looked back at her.

"What do you want to do in the morning?" They had planned a get-together with their friends for the evening, but for now they were free. She shrugged her shoulders. "Just want time with you." All the time they spend together was precious, his career often separating them. "We can stay a bit and then maybe go to the harbour. Maybe drive out a bit." Fernando nodded, always up for a bit of boat driving.

After standing up and refilling their plates from the stove, a mischievous grin took over his face. "How does it feel? One year older?"

She rolled her eyes. "We talked about this, I'm getting wiser. Just as you are." Fernando chuckled lightly. She picked up a bit of food and chewed it before muttering, "And a bit older."

Silence settled over breakfast, broken only by a remark here or there. After they finished, Fernando took on the cleaning duties. She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her chin on his shoulders. "Thank you, this was really sweet."

Fernando shook his head lightly.  "Everything for you, mi vida." He put the plaid he was washing on the drying rag and wiped his hands dry, before turning around in her arms. "On your birthday and every other day, we are together." He leaned in, kissing her. "I love you." It was her instinctual response. The smile on her face was mirrored by the one on his. "Te amo también."

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 5 - [Mack x David]

A/N: I want to say big, huge thank you to @wardlow and @casualhilarity for being so supportive and kind when I asked them if they would read the first 5 chapters of the series for me. I was really struggling on if this was good, flowing, made sense etc. Both of you showed up for me, even though you're so busy, and gave great feedback! I love you soooo much! A million forehead smooches to you! I could not have gotten through these first few parts without you both 💜

& I have to shout out my favorite little sister, @missjomarch. Part of this angst was your idea in the making. You little writer you 😘 I love you! Thank you for dreaming about these two with me.

Okay, now, without further ado.... let's get into it 🔥

Word Count: 5.0k

Silence.

Not even the hum of the refrigerator or a chirping bird to break it. It’s too heavy, blanketed in fresh snow and the stillness of the morning after a big storm. 

Inside her family’s cabin, Mack slowly brings a cup of fresh, hot coffee to her lips. She stares out the window, ignoring her blurry reflection in the glass. The pines are practically bent in half from all the snow the area has seen this winter. Normally, she may have been hesitant about driving into the Alps alone in these conditions, but nothing about now is normal. 

Mack shakes her head, trying not to think about the circumstances that brought her here. Or how she walked into JFK three days ago with a ticket bound for Ireland, but didn’t get on that plane. Instead she transferred it to a one way ticket to Zurich then rented a car to get up here without disturbing her parents. Although with the security cameras on the cabin, they know she is here. 

Everything okay? Her mom had texted her.

Yeah. Just need a break and some solitude. 

Okay. Love you 😘 

One corner of the blanket across her shoulders falls down to her elbow. Mack grabs it, putting it back into place and curling more into herself. Nothing about the cabin is cold. It’s modern and fancy with high end heating elements, but it is no match for the chill of a broken heart. 

A lump forms in Mack’s throat.

What the hell did she do?

She should call him. She should apologize immediately, but her limbs and fingers won’t move. They won’t grab the phone to her left and press his name to ring across the world. The muscles of her face can’t possibly move her mouth, and her brain is blank for the words she should say to him. 

But Mack knows exactly what happened, an 8 hour plane ride helped her quickly realize it.

She got scared. Plain and simple.

It was too good. All of it. To the point that the darkness in the corners of her brain lured her into the comforting old habit of being the one who cares less. Her deep seeded beliefs that she doesn’t need anyone to live on this earth. Survival depends on your ability to exist alone and she could feel herself depending on him.

She broke all of her rules for him- she dated him, fell in love with him, spent weeks on his farm, turned down assignments. Then the trade rumors swirled and he acted like they didn’t exist when her whole world was turned upside down with the what ifs. What if he left New York? What would she do? But David's silence made it seem so simple. She would go with him. And when it came to the next steps he was starting to talk about, and want, Mack couldn’t do it. She liked the way things were and him wanting more is a need Mack doesn’t believe she can provide for him.

Because he deserves so much better than this. Wasn’t that what she was trying to show him by leaving? Look at how much better your life is when I’m not in it. Simple. No one running across the world, chasing after who knows what. He deserved someone who would follow him anywhere and put roots down. That’s not her.

It can’t be her. 

But when he came barreling into his apartment, looking at her like she was shredding his hearts to pieces, she almost faltered. She almost stayed. And that reaction scared her more than anything else did. It was a blimp, but she could see herself in Seattle or fucking Dallas. For him. But what is in those cities for her? Is that who she is now? 

No. 

No matter how much she loves him, she can’t do it this way.

Mack jolts up from the chair, shaking away these thoughts. She is done with this merry-go-round of nothing. She has work to do.

Later in the morning, Mack is deep in rewriting her next piece for the magazine when a loud pop jolts her away from her computer screen. She smacks her ankle on the leg of the table, yowling out in pain. Then she whips her head towards the front door where the sound came from. She glares in frustration until the reality of how alone she really is out here settles in. What was that? She gets up, tiptoeing over towards the door with her blanket flowing like a cape behind her. She looks out at the U shaped drive way, seeing her dad pulling out a Louis Vuitton duffle bag from his shiny Mercedes. 

Mack’s grip on the blanket tightens.

Her mom did not believe her. If she did, she wouldn’t have sent in the big guns.

Mack sighs, then unlocks the door, opening it for her dad as he steps on the porch.

“Mom sent me.” He shrugs then greets her with a hug. “But also I wanted to come. Lucie called.”

Lucie. Fuck. In Mack’s haste to leave New York, and David, she didn’t think about her older sister. David must have told her. Guilt pierces her thoughts again. Lucie is going to be so angry with her. Connor too. This is why she should have never started down this road to begin with.

“Oh.” Mack responds blankly to her dad.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Her dad assures her. Mack nods in agreement, looking down as a sting fills her eyes. 

Nico walks into the cabin behind her, setting his duffle bag on the couch. Mack touches two fingers to the corners of her eyes, collecting the wetness there discreetly.

“Um, there is still coffee in the carafe over there.”

“No, thanks. I got some on the drive up.”

Mack nods, then pads over to the chair in the living room. Her dad takes the couch, stretching out his long legs onto the coffee table. He crosses his feet at his ankles, then laces his fingers at the back of his head. 

“How is work?” Mack shrugs. Probably not good considering she didn’t get onto the flight she agreed to be on. She did text Sonja that a family emergency was calling her home to Switzerland and received an instant response for her to take all the time she needed. “Lucie seemed to think you were going to Ireland?”

“I was.” Mack acknowledges. She reaches up to her nose, scratching a non-existent itch to avoid his gaze.

“Ah, she is a true Swiss girl. She traded luck for snow.” He chuckles. Mack smiles at his corny attempt to make her laugh, then curls her legs tighter up onto the chair. She swallows hard, looking at the fireplace embers blackened from last night's fire.

“I just… couldn’t go.” She whispers. Her bottom lip is scraped into her mouth by her top teeth before she sighs. She meets his patient gaze again. “What did Lucie tell you?” Mack asks. His arms cross over his chest.

“That you left for Ireland on an assignment after breaking things off with David.” Mack drops her gaze back to the cream carpet. “Is that true?” Mack nods. “I’m sorry, sweets.” He murmurs. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Shame fills Mack’s throat as she assumes her dad means ‘what did David do?' Because nothing. All he did was fall in love with a scared and timid woman, who ran at the first real sign of trouble. How can she tell her dad the truth? How could he not be extremely disappointed in her?

“I fucked up.” She chokes through a sob. Her bottom lip trembles like the breath she sucks in. This admission surprises her as much as her father who raises his thick eyebrows. She begins to pant heavily, trying to suck in big breaths to stop crying. “He is perfect and I am a mess.” 

“Mack, you are the furthest thing from a mess.” He assures her. He opens his right arm out towards the empty couch cushion next to him. Mack gets up and folds herself into his body, sighing into his chest as more tears fall down her face.

“He’s never going to forgive me for this. He shouldn’t. I deserve whatever happens after this.” Mack closes her eyes, letting herself be comforted by her dad’s hands wrapping around her back. She sniffs. “I got scared. It all felt so good. So perfect. And this monster inside of me flipped the table when rumors started about him being traded. He never told me anything about them, but kept like making plans for us and this wasn’t supposed to be anything like what it was. We were just supposed to…” She trails off. 

“Hang out?” Her dad fills in. 

“Yeah.” 

“Baby, nothing about what mama and I saw when we were in New York was hanging out.” He rubs her back comfortingly. “You are in love with each other. I can’t imagine that all could have blown up in a few weeks, or because of some rumors.”

“No, it didn’t.” She shakes her head. “I wrapped dynamite around it and blew it up instead because I don’t know how to be in love like that. And I don’t think I wanna be.” 

“You don’t want to be with someone who loves you? Mack?”

Mack pauses, then pulls away to look at his face.

“What?”

“You don’t know how to be in love like that, so you blew it up because you don’t want to be in love?” He rephrases. Mack still looks confused. Is her reasoning that wild or does she not understand what he is saying? “Did you talk to David about any of this before you strapped the dynamite to it?” 

“No.” She shakes her head. Bigger tears fill her eyes. “Why do you make it sound so simple?”

“Because I’ve been in love with your mom for almost 30 years. I’ve had some practice.” He removes a slice of hair from her wet cheek. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’ll figure out more of this as you go through life with him.” Mack’s bottom lip wobbles.

“No. He’s… never going to forgive me. You didn’t see his face. He tried to talk to me. He tried to save us and I wouldn’t let him.”

“Sweets, this all comes down to a simple conversation. Get on the same page. If you don’t want to move if he gets traded, say that. Or if you want to go with him, say that. Give him the opportunity to meet you where you are, so you can grow together into the next stage.”

“He deserves better than someone who is unsure.”

“You don’t get to decide that for him.” His reminder is gentle but deeply true. “He does.” Mack nods, looking down at where her tears have splotched into his gray sweatshirt. “You do get to decide for yourself if this is what you need though. It’s okay if he is perfect, and loves you the way that you deserve, and you still don’t want it right now.” Mack starts to cry again, shaking her head no.

“No I really, really, really want it. I love him and all I did was hurt us both.”

Nico pulls her back into his chest again becoming the safe space she needs to feel everything catch up with her. It’s long, painful sobs that threaten the collapse of her chest. When her tears dry on her cheeks, and her body stops quivering from emotion, her and Nico sit in the same silence that was here before he arrived. Light snow begins to fall outside again and they both watch the flakes settle into the white ground from their perch. 

The only thing Mack can think about is how badly she wishes David was the one holding her right now.

Mack sniffs, wiping at her nose with her thumb.

“I’m going to go back.” She nods. “Face whatever is waiting for me there.” 

If she doesn’t try to fix this, she’ll never have him again. She owes it to herself, and to him, to try.

“I like that choice.” Her dad smiles gently, squeezing her tighter to his chest for a moment. It’s almost like he is trying to imprint this moment into his skin. “Maybe we could go back home though? Spend some time with mama? I know she would love to get her hands on you too.”

Mack smiles through her leftover tears and nods. 

Going home is exactly what she needs.

- - - & - - -

Back in New York 10 days later, Mack sits on the familiar espresso brown couch in David’s living room. The leather is cool beneath her leggings as falling snow drifts down in icy, zigzag swirls through the black night.

20 minutes.

In 20 minutes, David should walk through that apartment door.

Butterflies dive in Mack’s stomach, threatening to send her to the bathroom to spill the contents of her light dinner. She ate a salad from the market down the street, but half of it is discarded in the kitchen trash. Every time she started to chew the limp greens, her mouth filled with saliva while her stomach twisted painfully. She can’t remember a time she was this nervous, especially about David.

Mack brings her hands up to her hair, collecting the long brown strands into a pony tail at the top of her head. She sighs heavily, checking her phone again. Only a minute has passed. She calculates the exact timing she thinks she can expect David from the airport. The team has been on a road trip since right after she fled the city. His plane already touched down from what Mack could track off the itinerary he had forwarded to her before their demise. 

Her arrival in New York is planned, though later than she really wanted it to be. David left not long after she did for a road trip. The thought of returning home and him not being here made it too painful. So Mack hung around Switzerland with her parents. She visited Sophie at school, who clearly knew not to ask about David. She drank way too much German beer and ate too many baked goods. In the midst of all that, she thought about David the entire time. During those long days, Mack had held her phone in her hand so many times to call him, but each time doubt had her closing out the phone app before she could, especially when he never called her. Silly of her to expect that, she knows, but it felt like more confirmation of her consequences.

Mack inhales nervously when she hears the key in the lock. She looks towards the door, watching the lock flip, then the door handle turn. She stays sitting cross legged on the couch as he opens the door. He walks in wearing black dress pants and coat, a white shirt and a dark gray tie loosened from around his throat. He wheels in his black, hard cover luggage with his duffle bag on top.

He is looking down at his hand where he juggles his keys, wallet and phone. The phone screen has lit up against his fingers and she can see it’s the same picture of them from Christmas morning a few weeks ago. She is silent as he walks over to the bowl on the skinny entry room table that collects his things. There, he sees her purse resting too. Next to it, he finds her corn cob key chain in the bowl. He stares at it, then looks over his shoulder to where she is on the couch. 

Tears blur him as her throat swells with a lump. She practiced this moment at least fifty times on the long plane ride over here. But now that he is in front of her, Mack can’t find the will to speak. He looks tired and worn out- exhausted even- as his green eyes soak her in like dry land after a steady rain. And the words that Mack came up with on the plane don’t seem like enough. There is nothing she can say to him to make up for what she’s done to them. 

“Hi baby.” He greets her tenderly. 

“Oh.” She croaks out.

Mack covers her face with her hands and collapses forward, immediately sobbing. She hears the clattering of items into porcelain and the roll of a bag being placed off to the side. Then she feels the big hands of her man wrap around her body. They lift her easily into his lap as David settles himself into the couch cushion behind him. One hand is wrapped around her hips, pressing her into him while the other cradles her head to his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobs. 

“It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay!!!” She wails. 

“It is. Because you’re here now. You came home to me. Nothing else matters.” Mack fists the lapels of his coat, breathing him in, letting him take over her senses. She has been back in New York for hours, but now she is home.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers again, shaking in his embrace from both remorse and relief.

"I know. You got scared."

“Damn it, don’t be so understanding.” He’s totally already forgiven her. Mack can feel it in his touch that the second he saw her it was all resolved. 

"We're okay, honey.” Mack winds her fingers up his chest to his neck, tangling in the hair at the base. David turns, kissing her forehead. Mack focuses on his lips plumped on her skin, willing herself to say some of the words she thought of on the plane.

“You’re right. I was really scared and I freaked out.” She inhales deeply, trying to stop the croaking of her voice so she can speak clearly. “I should have told you that. You would have understood.”

“Yeah.” He acknowledges then grabs her chin so her face is primed for him to kiss. It’s achingly beautiful and brimmed with love. Their greedy lips soak up the taste of their lovers without the desire to pull apart for air. Mack’s tongue laps at David’s as she hoists herself closer to him. His palms press harder into her until not even lint could slide between their bodies. When they pull apart, David groans in relief.

“I went home.” Mack blurts, suddenly finding her voice. 

“I know. Lucie told me.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” His lips purse and he laughs a bit.

“I knew you wouldn’t. You were long gone the second that door shut behind you.” 

“I-"

“Baby, we can talk in the morning, but I am dead tired right now. Just come to bed with me.”

Mack would do anything he asked of her right now, as long as they are doing it together.

In bed, after stripping naked and collapsing into each other’s arms, David’s hands run down her back to her ass. He pulls her flush with him then uses her cheeks to raise her left breast to his lips. He sucks her deep into his mouth as a few fingers slide against her entrance from behind. 

Too tired to talk, but never too tired to make love to her. 

His lips work them both up into a state of arousal that needs to be cured. Between their bodies, Mack reaches for his thick cock, rubbing it through her slit as he continues to play with her nipples- one in his mouth and the other pinched by two fingers. 

“Mmm.” She grunts, then bites her lip as she pushes just his swollen head inside of her. David breaks away, needing to see her face as she fills herself with him. 

“Perfect.” He compliments her quietly as she takes him without resistance. “My perfect fucking girl.” He nips at her breast, then maneuvers himself into place. His hips give her slow, deep thrusts. 

His mouth collects her moans as he makes her come undone on his cock, like it’s like the first time all over again.

He spills into her greedily, marking her neck when he does.

Then they fall asleep curled deeper into each other than they’ve ever been before.

- - - & - - -

The next morning, a car alarm jolts Mack and David awake at the same time. David squeezes Mack tighter to him, lifting his head to pinpoint the noise. When he registers the alarm, he loosens his grip. Mack slowly opens her eyes, glancing up at him. All she can see is the underside of his chin. She runs her eyes along the waves of his growing out stubble, then tilts up to kiss along a particularly swirly patch. David hums beneath her lips. It isn’t long before David’s fingers running along her back have her falling back to sleep. When she wakes again, David is gone but the sounds of him rummaging in the kitchen float into the bedroom.

Mack pads out to join him after doing her morning routine of skin care and brushing her teeth. She stretches her arms above her head, swaying left and right to force the stretch further down her back. David looks over his shoulder, smiling at her. Mack bites her lip, taking in the deep groves of his muscular shoulders as his arms filter through his pantry. 

“We should talk.” Mack murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear. She puts her forearms on the counter, folding her hands together.

“About what?” He asks, taking out a box of pre-made mix for waffles or pancakes. Mack stills. Is he serious?

“About me… leaving.”

“You’re back though?” He scratches at his nose, flipping the box to the back and reading the directions. “Do I have eggs?” He murmurs to himself, moving towards the fridge. He pops the doors open. “I do.” He grins back at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do you want waffles or pancakes?”

Mack sucks her cheeks in as he begins to bring out bowls, a whisk and measuring cups. With intention, she pushes off from the counter and comes to intercept him before he can get to the fridge for water. 

“What?” He chuckles as she weaves her arms around his waist.

“I don’t want waffles or pancakes. I want us to talk about me leaving.” David stills, eyes finding hers and tracing the brown irises. 

“Okay.” He sets the measuring cups behind her on the counter. His hands collect on her lower back and he waits expectantly. 

“I feel like you don’t want to?”

“No, not really. It’s over, ya know? You’re here.”

“Right but…” Mack trails off, staring at him, trying to find the words. She inhales to start, then stops again, clearing her throat. “I left you…” Surprisingly, David chuckles genuinely.

“Baby, you ran away from a lot of things, but you came back for me.” She stares at him. “Right?” Mack nods. “Then, again, I don’t know what else we have to talk about here.”

“I’m scared if we don’t talk more about this that it’s going to leave a big crack in our foundation.” She shakes her head slightly, looking away. 

“If you’ve got things you feel you need to say to me, go ahead. I just want you to know, before you even start, that from my perspective, everything is okay. Now and in the future.” Mack pauses, considering, then she nervously chews on her bottom lip. She swallows hard, tilting her head down to look at the hairs in the middle of his chest. He trimmed them recently, probably right after she left. She brings a hand up, stroking his pecs.

“I got scared.” She mumbles then forces her teeth into her bottom lip again to stop from crying. “I got scared that some organization’s decision could wreck my whole life. I still don’t think I’m cut out for relationships, but I love you so much, it’s like there is nothing I wouldn’t try for you. That scared me too. That I want to be here in New York. That I don’t want to go on long assignments that take me away from here for weeks at a time. That I feel this pull to come home when New York was never supposed to be home for me.” 

“You’ve changed everything for me.” She continues. “Not because you asked for it to change or forced me into anything. It’s just happened. And I woke up a few weeks ago with all this news and chatter and you wouldn’t talk to me and…” He brushes his thumbs under her eyes to collect her tears. “That wasn’t wrong of you, but suddenly I was thinking about moving to Dallas with you. And getting a place together because that makes more sense than having two places, if I was going to move to another state with you. And do they have an international airport close by? Or do I have to do multiple flights and it was too much. My life no longer was mine. It was completely consumed by someone else.” 

David says nothing, but his eyebrows pull tight together. His hands grip her hips harder, pulling her in more so they’re completely pressed together.

“I was in fight or flight. And I told myself that you deserved so much better than this. So much better than someone who had one foot out the door the first time something goes wrong. So the old habits that die hard, hit harder than ever before, and I was packing my bag the second you left for lunch with Connor. I felt like I was drowning and exploding all at the same time. I couldn’t stop the spiral to think about who that person was that had filled my life up. Or rationalize with myself about how lonely and unhappy I was before you. You have changed everything, but it’s been for the better.” She closes her eyes, letting the tears stream down for him to catch again. 

“When you came home while I was packing…” She shudders, trying not to sob. “I anticipated you would do so many things, but not that you would tell me to go. It was like I wanted you to tell me to stay, but then you told me to go. And I’m stubborn as hell so I did.”

“Mack, I couldn’t ask you to stay. I need things too and I needed you to stay without me telling you to. I won’t hold you back. I won’t tether you down or clip your wings. You are free to choose. And when you came back last night, you choose me. That’s all I need to move past all this. I just hope you keep choosing me… Forever.”

It’s the boldest David has ever been with his plans for them. Forever. Mack gnaws her bottom lip, causing it to plump and redden. 

“Forever?” She repeats. 

“Mhm.” He mumbles into her lips. He kisses her deeply, fusing her lips with his until she has to gasp for another breath. “You gonna run if I let go of you?” The deep smirk on his lips makes her understand he is joking.

“No!” She laughs, slapping his chest. “God, of course you’re already joking about this.” He runs a hand down her hip to her ass, giving it a healthy squeeze. He levels her with a serious stare, then kisses her again.

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

“Waffles.” She decides immediately. 

“Chocolate chips or strawberries?”

“Both?”

“Yessss. I was hoping you would say that.” He kisses her nose, then releases her to grab the other two ingredients. “Hey, we are going to Connor and Lucie’s tonight for dinner.” Mack stares back at David with an anxious, wide-eyed expression.

“I haven’t talked to Lucie yet.” She admits. That is definitely a conversation she is still avoiding.

“Nice.” David chuckles. “What could possibly go wrong?”

- - - & - - -

“Heeeee-YAH! MACK!” Lucie’s smile fades instantly when she sees her younger sister. “Nice.” She snaps at her, crossing her arms and blocking the doorway.

“I saw mom and dad in Switzerland. They say hi… I-I have chocolate for Stell!” Mack tries to smooth her sister’s angry scowl immediately.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lucie snarls in Swiss German. “Get in here.” She wraps a hand around her wrist then tugs her into a hug. “You scared the shit out of me and I’m fucking pregnant!”

“I’m sorry, Luc.” Mack closes her eyes, squeezing her older sister tightly. The pregnancy is not a surprise at all to her considering last time she saw Lucie. “Congratulations. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You hurt him.” Mack nods then steps out from their hug. 

“I know.” Mack whispers back. Lucie sighs, then steps around her to hug David.

“Go easy on my girl, Luc.” David murmurs to Lucie but looks at Mack while he says it. 

“Welcome home, Mack.” Connor murmurs from behind her. He tosses an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. Mack looks up at him. “You two good?” He motions between her and David. They both nod. “Then this group is good too.” He says decidedly. “Now tell me about this chocolate you brought for Stell. She has a dad tax to pay, even on gifts.”

They all laugh then move further into the apartment. Lucie and Connor go back into the kitchen together. Mack knows her and Lucie will discuss more later, when it's just the two of them. She'll cross that bridge when they get there.

David puts a hand on the small of Mack’s back to guide her into the living room. Stella is bouncing between various activities in the living room, but stops everything and dives at Mack for a hug. Mack smooches her cheeks, then allows her past to David. 

“What are we playing tonight, Stelly?” He asks her. 

Mack knows exactly why she ran. 

But this right here, is exactly why she never will again.

Read more Mack and David here.

[anpanbun]

Nearly Forgotten

(An AU of @liloinkoink's Lamplight AU..... inspired by that one tumblr post about ancient tattoos and forgotten gods)

It was after school and young Martyn was on a mission. He stood on his tip toes to reach up, and, with all the gentleness he could, shifted the right rabbit ear of the antenna the slightest bit further along. The staticky noise of the TV faded as his favorite channel sharpened into view. However, instead of his favorite after school cartoon, something that would forever change his life came onto the screen.

-----

Martyn wasn't an anthropologist, he was maybe the furthest thing from it. A prospective radio host finishing his broadcasting degree, but, when he was a child, one documentary forever sparked his interests beyond that. The documentary was about ancient humans and societies, which should have been torturously boring to a small child. Instead, he was drawn in by the whole program. In particular the story of a mummy found in the Alps with a unique tattoo.

The tattoo was on the mummy's chest, over his heart, eight lines in a starburst pattern and four squiggles in the middle. The program had claimed it was used for some sort of ritualistic purpose.

Little Martyn didn't think much of it at the time beyond the pattern being cool, but over the decade or so after he found that the design had stuck with him.

In school it was what he doodled in the corners of his homework. It was the pattern he looked for in noise. When he was bored it was the thing he looked up.

So it only made sense that in the fall, after his first internship in university gave him a little extra cash jingling in his pocket, Martyn found himself outside a tattoo parlor.

And now, a week later, he's staring at the starburst and squiggles first tattooed on the chest of a man thousands of years ago.

"This looks perfect. Thank you so much, man!" Martyn fist bumped the artist, a man, with some of the coolest hair and tattoos Martyn had ever seen, named BigB.

"Not a problem, just remember the care instructions I told you before we started and it should be healed up in no time."

-----

When B had said "no time" he hadn't been joking. It being fully healed in a couple of days felt almost too fast, but maybe that's just how it worked?

As he was examining the healed tattoo in the morning light of his bathroom, he got the sudden feeling that something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but if he'd looked closer it was almost like it was easier to see the tattoo in the mirror than it should have been with the bright morning light streaming in from the window behind him. Almost like the tattoo was faintly glowing.

-----

Martyn was very fortunate that the old apartment he rented had a gas stove. It had taken him a while to adjust to using it, but recently he had finally gotten the hang of it. Water boiled quick, nothing ever boiled over or burned, and he managed to cook everything to perfection.

-----

It was early winter when something noticeably changed. The first bad snow fall of the season was expected to roll in, so his friend Jimmy and Jimmy's roommate Tango, who rented an actual house with a woodburning fireplace, invited him to stay over.

"Thanks again for letting me crash here, Tim."

"It's no problem Martyn! What kind of friend would I be if I let my buddy freeze to death in his apartment!"

They were sitting in front of the fireplace enjoying the extra warmth. The power was still on thankfully, but the snow was really picking up outside.

Tango was in the middle of a story from his engineering class when, out of the corner of his eye, Martyn swore he saw a form flicker in the fire, a hand reaching out.

His head snapped to the fire, his voice sounded startled, especially when he saw it was still there, "Do you guys seen that?"

Tango and Jimmy followed his line of sight. The moment their eyes met the fireplace, the hand melded back into the rest of the flames.

"See what?" Tango asked.

"The flames, they looked- they looked like a hand," the moment he had started the sentence Martyn realized that what he saw would sound insane, "so.... I thought you guys might have seen the optical illusion too? But I guess you missed it?"

"Huh guess we did, that sucks! It must have looked cool!" Jimmy answered.

The conversation moved on after that, and eventually Tango and Jimmy retired to their rooms. The both of them wanted to take advantage of the power being on a little longer to sleep in their own beds while they could.

Martyn sat in front of the fireplace for a while longer on his own. His knees were curled up to his chest and his head rested on them. He was looking out the glass patio doors into the swirling snow.

It was in the quiet moment alone that it reappeared. Martyn noticed the firelight in the peripheries of his vision brighten significantly, so he turned his head. That's when he saw it again, the hand, made of fire but reaching out to him.

Maybe it was stupidity, maybe he was tired, maybe it was some of the million of other excuses he could make up. The truth was, though, that something came over him, he was enthralled by the flames. Looking at them made a warm feeling rise in his chest.

He reached his own hand out to meet the fire.

Jimmy's door opened with a creak, shockingly loud in the bated breath silence that had been there before. Martyn snapped his hand back.

"Oh good, you're still up, I think the power finally went out," Jimmy said as he flopped onto the sofa behind Martyn, "it started getting cold in my room."

Tango joined them not long after saying the same thing, and the three settled in to sleep.

Martyn kept a close eye on the fire until he finally fell asleep. The warmth of the fire outside and in his chest finally lulling him to sleep. His mind replaying over and over again the moments before Jimmy had opened his door.

Martyn's hand had met the fire's, his hand had met and it hadn't burned.

-----

After that realization Martyn did the thing any sane person would do. He went camping.

He waited a week or so, of course, for the snow to melt, but he went camping.

Because where else was he going to get a bonfire?

-----

Staring at the towering flames in front of him, Martyn only then took the moment to consider if this was actually a good idea, but only a moment. He needed to know.

A warmth in his chest had slowly risen up as he had built the fire, from excitement or nerves or anticipation he guessed. It didn't take long though. Within 30 minutes or so of the fire reaching its full height, the hand reappeared for the third time. This time Martyn didn't hesitate, the instant he saw the hand reach out of the wall of flame he lunged towards it.

Like they had that night, the flames of the hand licked at his skin as they met. He couldn't help but laugh because he had been right. The flames fully consumed his hand but he only felt a warm tickle. The warmth in his chest condensed into a warm ball right over his heart, right where his ancient tattoo rested.

He was too busy being amazed to react in time when the flames, seemingly no longer content with just brushing up against him, tightened around his hand and pulled. He floundered, suddenly the warm feeling he had felt like a burning brand over his heart. He tried to pull away, but the fire overpowered him and the last thing he saw was bright white light as the entirety of Martyn was pulled into the bonfire.

-----

The white light faded after a moment, Martyn blinked away the lingering spots. A bit delayed, but his body continued the reaction it had been doing before and he tried to take a step back.

He was stopped though and finally he looked forward to where the fire had been.

In front of him, in place of the fire, was a man. The man's hand was wrapped around Martyn's in the same way the flames had been, holding him still.

The man had a wide, wolfish smile, and wild brown hair. He had some sort of animal ears, wolf maybe, Martyn thought. What stood out most though, were his eyes. They were the blue of the hottest flames a fire can have. They were mesmerizing.

"Hello Martyn," the man said, "I am Ren! I am finally able to speak with you, my only acolyte. My savior."

[spiel-mit-mir-ein-spiel]

Dicke Titten ~Paul Landers

I think the title speaks for it self haha.

I got this idea while hearing this song ( and seen the music video many times haha)

Enjoy :3

Another day , another shooting of a new music video. You didn't knew what the song was called but it was something with lederhosen. And the boys looked pretty good in them. Paul came in and you smiled. ''Hey you'' you said and he smiled back'' Hello sweetheart'' You felt your heart explode but you kept it cool. You looked at his outfit and you laughed. ''It looks good on you. I think you should quit playing the band and start working in the Alps'' he grinned. ''Maybe, i think Minni would love it tho'' . You smiled and you go startled when Till barged into the room. ''Y/N, We have a problem'' You looked at him and snorted. ''What's up Gramps?'' you said while you looked at his long beard. '"We need another girl for shooting this music video. The other girl is sick. You look at him surprised before you powdered Paul's face. ''Can't you ask Amy?'' ''No, She is not suitable for that role and you are'' You looked confused. '' What are you talking about?'' you look surprised at Paul who smirked and then at Till. ''Guys..'' '' Yeah well, the song is called Dicke Titten... And Amy does not have big tits.. and you do'' Till said with an angelic smile. ''Omg guys, are you serious?'' You burst out in laughter and Till nodded. '' So you do it?'' Paul said and you nodded with laughter. '' ''I guess i don't really have a choice'' you snorted and Till kissed your cheek. ''Good!'' he stormed out of the room. You finished Paul's make up and then you went to the dressingroom. ''Ah Y/N, this dress is for you'' Lisa from the clothing department said and you looked at it. It was a short Tyrolean (Tiroler) dress. You put it on and you boobs where almost popping out of it. '' Uh Lisa,, i think my breasts are gonna pop out of it'' you said and you bent down to put on the stokkings. ''No, that's exacty how it should be'' You sighed. '' Goddamn it Till'' you mumbeld. ''Ah our new movie star'' Richard laughed and when you turned around he smirked. '' Don't you dare open your mouth Herr Kruspe'' Richard smirk got even bigger and then you heard Paul '' Reesh','' he started his sentence but when he saw you, you saw his gaze change. '' Wow, you look beautifull'' Paul said and you grinned. '' Yeah, i get that if my boobs are hanging out'' you joked before grabbing a make up brush and powdered your face. '' No, i mean it. You look beautifull.'' You smiled to Paul while you looked at him in the mirror and then Till came in again. '' Ah Y/N'' he said and you turned around. He smiled ''Perfect!, now let shoot this video'' He walked away cheerfull. ''Give that man Tits and he is happy'' you laughed when you walked with Paul and Richard to the set. The producer told you what to do and you smiled from ear to ear. You basically needed to stay at Paul's side helpen him on the farm. The most fun part was when you sat on a tractor. ''Fuck this thing is big'' You said when you sat in the seat next to Paul and he looked at the big steering wheel. ''Just so you know, i've never ride a tractor before'' He smiled and you and you smirked. '' Well, we're gonna find out if you can ride it or not'' You had to wait on the cue of the producer. The tractor was idling and therefore vibrated very much. You felt your Boobs bounce up and down and you had to hold them because you were afraid they would pop out of your blouse. ''You okay?'' Paul laughed and you smirked. '' I hate this outfit. You guys and your weird songs everytime. ''I swear it was Till this time and besides that you loves us'' You sighed 'Yeah, you're right'' ''Someone in particular?' He said with a hopefull smile. ''Mr Landers, your attention please'' Joern laughed and Paul blinked his eyes. ''Sorry'' ''Stop distracting him Y/N'' Christoph said and you laughed. '' I didn't do anything!'' you said with an raised eyebrow. '' No, something else did'' Richard joked and you pointed at him '' Herr Kruspe, don't make me get off this tractor'' you laughed and he held his hands up defensively.

[sublimeobservationarcade]

Dancing On The Grave Of The Greens

As Australia comes to terms with its overwhelming rejection of Peter Dutton and the Trumpian LNP Coalition I have noticed another phenomenon happening. Dancing on the grave of the Greens by the corporate media and News Corp in particular. Not being able to square the clear rejection of the right wing agenda with their own narrative they are going after other targets. The decimation of the Liberal Party does not play well with their conservative viewers, so some grave dancing on an old enemy is on high rotation.

The Shared Dental Into Medicare Aspirations Of The Greens

The Greens had a policy of including dental under Medicare, which has wide support within the community, especially the 60% of Australians who struggle to afford going to the dentist. It will be a real shame if the returned Labor government does not expand its mandate to look into some sort of expansion of Medicare into dental, as this anomaly is both illogical and harming the health of millions of Australians long term. The Greens were bold in their progressive aspirations on a number of fronts and were good for the country on this basis alone. I sincerely hope that the Albanese government does not slip back into complacency after their big victory. Greens Gone From Lower House But Independents Remain The divisive Dutton is gone and the Libs left a mere husk of what they formerly were. It will be up to the Independents to keep the pressure on the government to accelerate progress on the renewable energy transition and to shift the economic settings, which currently unfairly favour the propertied and the wealthy at the expense of ordinary Australians. The tax laws need remedying around the housing situation to fix things up. The fact that a third of all corporations doing business in Australia pay no tax is another public disgrace. News Corp paid no tax. “Serial tax dodgers News Corp, Santos, Qantas and Transurban once again failed to pay any income tax in Australia in 2022-23, the latest Australian Tax Office tax transparency data shows.” - (https://www.crikey.com.au/2024/11/01/news-corp-santos-qantas-transurban-tax-dodgers-data/) The government must be held accountable in light of these loop holes and their relationship to these powerful corporations. The Australian people do not want a continuation of the unfair playing field, when it comes to oligarchs, the lack of competition in sectors, and the influence of powerful concerns on how the economy functions downunder.

Australia Still Needs A Green Tinge Speaking truth to power and holding the government accountable will be the challenge in this next term of government. The power brokers will be wooed by vested interests and the ALP installed as the new status quo’s top dog. The biggest enemy of good government in this situation is complacency. Voldemort is dead; and ministers wanting to stay in their comfort zones will be on the cards.  Dancing on the grave of the Greens in the lower house may compound this problem for the country. Hopefully their strong presence in the Senate will maintain the progressive push for better. Libs = Self-Interest The Liberal Party should rename itself Self-Interest, as this is their credo really. The right wing agenda has long been about – what is in it for me? The wealthy support the Libs because they promise to look after their best interests in this regard. Wealth redistribution is a dirty term for these folk. They want flat regressive taxes and few taxes on capital or assets. Let the workers pay all the tax via income tax. Don’t touch our gains whether ill gotten or not. Superannuation isn’t that a low taxing bolthole for the super-rich? The calibre of people leading the Liberal Party is of this nature. Peter Dutton, Scott Morrison, Malcolm Turnbull, Tony Abbott and John Howard – none are short of a bob or two. Principles, perhaps, are less conspicuous? Australia rejected this naked self-interest in those wanting to lead them at this juncture in time. The Trump debacle in the United States was illustrative of where this behaviour takes you when given its head.

Green Shoots The Greens have long been the perceived enemy of this kind of naked self-interest downunder. Dancing on the grave of the Greens is an expression of the hatred felt by those who bat for the Murdochs and their corporate ilk. Speaking truth to power is seen by them as an afront. How dare they! The world is changing, however, and younger folk don’t listen to the News Corp platforms. The power dynamics are shifting like tectonic plates beneath our feet. Legacy media is dying or pretty much dead in influencing the next generations of Australians. The wealthy will be reaching out to new agents of influence. Trump has the oligarchs of techfeudalism in his grasp, will a similar story play out here I wonder? “Already, the influence of billionaire oligarchs like Musk is making waves globally. The majority of human beings are followers like sheep and like to be told what to do. All this democratic choice of the last century or so has worn the tiny minds of many out. They long for orders and instructions to blindly follow. Follow the money is the mantra of many. Follow the loudest voice in the room is the default position of many more. Don’t think too deeply about anything and keep your head down is the pathway for a majority of citizens. ‘Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose’, so goes the lyrics of a song anyway.” - (https://www.housetherapy.com.au/big-tech-is-watching-you/) Robert Sudha Hamilton is the author of America Matters: Pre-apocalyptic Posts & Essays in the Shadow of Trump. ©HouseTherapy

Read the full article

[invisibleraven]

Keeping Spirits Bright

Day 11: Snow + Ralex <=AO3

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” 

The question comes out of nowhere, but Alex is used to that with Reggie-his mind works in mysterious ways. And maybe it’s because he’s a good boyfriend, or maybe it’s because he is bored and there’s nothing on that he indulges him. “I mean in the US? New York definitely-I want to see the sights and sounds of Broadway. In the world? I mean, I’d like to visit Germany; see where my oma and opa grew up. What about you?”

“I’d go to Antarctica.” 

“Why ?” Alex asks with a sidelong look. 

“Well for one, because I would like to see a penguin,” Reggie said, ticking it off on his finger. “Plus I would love to see snow.” 

“You've never seen snow before?”’ Alex asked. 

“I mean, I have,” Reggie replied. “But nothing that stayed long enough to do all the fun wintery stuff you can do in it. Make a snowman, go skiing, have a snowball fight.” 

“I mean if you really wanna ski we can go up to Vail,” Alex offered. “I used to go with my folks all the time when I was a kid.” 

“I don’t think I should actually ski,” Reggie replied. “You know how uncoordinated I am. But a wintery getaway might be fun. One day when we can afford it.” 

“Go to a chalet in the Alps, sip cocoa by the fire?’ Alex proposed. 

“Skate on a frozen lake, go on a sleigh ride,” Reggie mused. “Though I still wanna make snow angels.” 

“We can do that,” Alex assured him with a giggle. “Maybe when we tour through Europe we can convince Luke to take a break in Switzerland in December.” 

“Oooh, have a real white Christmas!” Reggie enthused. “With a real tree, and chestnuts and everything in that Nat King Cole song.” 

“That’d be nice,” Alex admitted. “So that’s what we’ll do-when we’re rich and famous, we’ll have our winter getaway, complete with all the wintery fun you want, and it’ll be great.” 

“Yeah,” Reggie sighed, leaning into his side. “I can’t wait to do all that with you-see the world, play sold out shows everywhere, get to do everything we’ve ever wanted to.” 

“As long as we’re together,” Alex stated.

“No getting rid of me,” Reggie assured him. 

And years later, with fresh rings on their fingers, Alex mad good on their imaginings-whisking them away to a cabin for the holidays. Reggie was in his glee-even as he shivered through every activity, despite his layers. Nothing could erase his smile, and Alex prided himself on a job well done. 

But also on having the forethought to get the fire and cocoa ready so his new husband didn’t get hypothermia before they go to their sleigh ride and snowball fight. 

A snowball fight Alex was determined to win. 

Of course, given Reggie helped coach Little League, he had pretty good aim, but he was a rank amateur when it came to forming his projectiles, so Alex scraped by with a win, but they were laughing too much to really keep score. 

The sleigh ride was more sedate-though of  course Reggie, ever the cowboy at heart was so enthralled by the horses he almost missed the scenery. Alex didn’t mind though-Reggie’s enthusiasm helped belay his own anxieties about trusting two massive beasts (and their driver) to steer them safely through unknown woods and not toss them into a ravine or something. Reggie swore that one day he was taking Alex horseback riding, but Alex wished him all the luck in the world ever getting him close to a horse again, no matter how smooth the ride had been. 

“Anything else you wanna check off your wintery bucket list before Christmas?” Alex asked that night as they enjoyed their fire and some warm cider. “The staff says the lake isn’t solid enough to skate on so that’s a no, but we could try skiing if you’re up for it.” 

“Would it be terrible of me to say I wanna stay in tomorrow?’ Reggie asked. “I love that you did all this for me, but snow is cold and wet , and I’m kinda over it?” 

Alex laughed then to the point that he almost collapsed on top of Reggie. “Oh thank god you said something. I am so sick of it!”

It was Reggie’s turn to laugh then, the two of them holding each other as they shook with giddiness. “So you wanna head home?” Alex asked. 

Reggie looked outside to where the drifts were sparkling in the moonlight, then back to Alex, lit by the fire’s glow and the soft twinkling of the lights on the tree they had decorated earlier. “Nah, I still want my Christmas with you. Just maybe we'll stick to indoor activities from here on out.” 

Alex grinned, pulling him in to rub their pink noses together. “That sounds like a perfect way to finish off our honeymoon.” 

Reggie responded with a kiss-one hot enough to make even their lopsided snowman melt. But that was okay-the both of them preferred the heat. So even with the snow blowing outside, they didn’t mind-they had each other to keep them warm. 

[woundlingus]

🌍 🎶 🐈‍⬛ 🇪🇺

🇪🇺honestly I thought about lying but really you plug it into my search bar and I post politics and memes that are really only relevant to my country so I will admit I am Australian 🦘

🎶Hozier. Forever and always Hozier. I saw him live in San Diego, changed my life. Next in line is Chappel Roan please please please like my wife she’s the best she’s soooo pretty and her music fucking slaps 😭

🐈‍⬛ I’ll be real I’m a little bit of a hater 👀 I’ve had a lot of pets and it’s not that I don’t love them it’s just that I don’t think I’m built for that kind of companionship. I like to observe foxes from afar, I’d never want to be one of those people who thinks they can tame a fox because it’s dog shaped and smaller than a wolf. That’s still a wild animal don’t be mean… but I guess if not that, then my dog is probably my favourite just because she’s my girl regardless of how annoying she is, I can’t sleep without her next to me

🌏favourite place…… I’ve been around, and honestly I don’t think anything beats the highest point in the Swiss alps. I’d never seen snow until that point, and you take the jungfrau train up to the point and then walk through this tunnel out to pure white, I’d never seen so much white in my life. Switzerland is just so beautiful generally, I stayed in this tiny village and they cooled our drinks in the run off from the mountains because it’s so ice cold it’s faster than any kind of freezer, and it’s all green, and it sounds tropical despite the chill because it’s so silent out there you can hear the thousands of tiny little waterfalls from the run off of the alps, makes you understand why they protect silence by law. It’s a little unnerving too though, it was so beautiful and exciting at first but it’s so much white nothing and a thousand foot drop at any misstep outside the bounds created by these tiny little string ropes, really gives you The Call Of The Void if you’ve ever experienced that, it’s like the little nagging feeling that says you should jump or other various really dangerous things for inexplicably no real rhyme or reason. Staring out into absolute nothingness on the highest peak of the highest mountain with nothing but blinding white surrounding you on all sides and just having the most unnerving feeling that I should walk out into the snow for miles and miles like I was being called to something was so wild I actually had to go back down the mountain before I became a statistic.

The mountain does things to people, maybe it’s just the elevation messing with the head, but it’s creepy. Beautiful. But I wouldn’t linger for too long. Godspeed to the cattle farmers living in solitude up that high- I think they might need it.

Ask Game

[zackastor]

VIVIENNE LAI ASTOR & ZACK ASTOR

where Zack and Vivienne talk and Vivienne re-establishes their marriage @vivienneastor

Zack Astor -after getting his wound properly treated and bandaged, Zack finds himself back at prom; the fight with Nicki hasn't left him in the mood for mingling and so he once more ends up craving a smoke; reaching for his pack of smokes he is just about to make his way away from the crowd when he nearly bumps into someone- Fucking hell, watch where you- -he looks, realizing who the person is and takes a step back- Of fucking course you're here too.

vivienne astor Here? In town? Surely you haven't forgotten already. -she takes his pack of cigs out of his pocket and removes one for herself, waiting for him to light it- Yes, Zack, I'm at the party that the entire town is attending.

Zack Astor No. That was pretty damn fucking hard to forget. -Zack narrows his eyes, considering walking away but he ends up lighting her cigarette- Well ain't that fucking great. I should warn these fuckers. -he tugs a cigarette between his own lips and lights it-

vivienne astor -she looks at him for a long, completely silent beat as they smoke- Don't act as if I arrived specifically to ruin your life. I was headed elsewhere. I was intending to be with Hunter. Remember him? The brother who's currently on his way to becoming some sort of pasty goo out on the road?

Zack Astor -he regards her wearily, eyes narrowing slightly at the mention of Hunter- I didn't kill him. Before you bring that up. He was a biter. -he scoffs, quietly- The hell happened to Kelly? His wife?

vivienne astor -smooths her hair back from her forehead, blowing out a thin stream of smoke- Kelly wanted to try to get to the private flight field. To get in a private plane. To fly to the Swiss Alps and retrieve her children from boarding school. -tips her chin in a shrug- Kelly didn't make it.

Zack Astor -he regards her for a long moment, taking in her matter of fact tone before huffing- She didn't fucking deserve that, you know.

vivienne astor I didn't realize you were such a big fan of Kelly's. Was it her famed Snickers salad that won you over?

Zack Astor At least she worked hard on that. -he takes a drag from his smoke- She at least cared.

vivienne astor Did she care when she asked if the little fruit was joining us for her 4th of July gala? -also takes a drag of her own cigarette- She wasn't talking about the neighbour girl Cherry.

Zack Astor -Zack's gaze hardens immediately; he takes a long drag from his cigarette and watches the smoke billow out from his mouth- You're fucking lying.

vivienne astor Why would I make that up? I'd make up something much more clever. -she reaches out with the hand holding the cigarette, cinched between her knuckles, and smooths back a strand of Zack's hair- You might not remember it this way, but I was the kindest to you, out of them all. In many ways.

Zack Astor -he tenses as soon as she touches him; he finds himself staying for a moment before he recoils, scowling- Don't- even try that. You weren't- you weren't fucking kind.

vivienne astor I was the kindest.

Zack Astor -he stares at her, slightly wide eyed, nostrils flaring before he looks away- What do you want? A medal?

vivienne astor -she goes back to her cigarette for a while- There's none of them left, now. You and I are the only Astors out of the lineage.

Zack Astor -so Jason was dead too. And his parents. He takes a short, quick drag- Where the hell are you going with this, Viv? Do you really feel sad about that?

vivienne astor Where am I going with this? There's nowhere left to go, Zack! They're all dead. All the money is gone, and even if it wasn't, it would be useless. I don't think we've got enough government together for any sort of rebuilding of the economy but they're certainly going to mint new currency if that happens. -she does air quotes, her tone acidly disgusted- Zombie bucks. I can see it now. -shakes her head in resignation- You don't have your ring anymore, but I have mine. You haven't stopped being my child bride. I'm here to claim you.

Zack Astor -his eyes widen, and now he is unable to hide the shock and the whirlwind of emotions behind it- No, you don't- -he swallows, forcing his voice to be steady- You don't get to claim me. I won't fucking- I won't do that.

vivienne astor Yes. You will. -she turns to look at him, the full force of her impassive stare- I married you to save you from what your family did to you. That means you're mine. It's not such a terrible fate, Zack, considering they sent you to be tortured at that conversion camp. I'm not even asking you to stop chasing boys.

Zack Astor -he takes another step back, gaze weary, fixed on her as if she might lunge at him; his heart has quickened, even though he tries to calm himself- What the hell do you want from me?

vivienne astor I'm going to live with you.

Zack Astor No. -his tone is sharp, even if there is a certain brittleness to it- No. That place belongs to me.

vivienne astor I'm not heartless. I'll give you a week, and then you'll move me in.

Zack Astor -he stares at her, jaw muscles working; without another word he turns away from her to walk away-

vivienne astor Have a good week, little one. I'll take my usual side of the bed.

[alongfortheridenovel]

Chapter 8

Alp

My time here has been wonderful so far. Busch is polite and checks on me daily. Nessie is quite a ball of sunshine, Wolf stays glued to either her or Drachen, and..well…I don’t see Drachen much. But when I do, she’s either interrogating me about my coaster mechanics, what guests say about it, or she’s watching me from a distance with this odd look on her face. I’m not sure what her deal with me is. I haven’t done anything to her. I sigh and peer over the bridge that towers over the Rhine River. I’ve spotted it glowing a purple color at night. I don’t know why or how it does that, but it does. The sound of pawsteps draws my attention, and as they grow closer towards me, I turn to my right to see Nessie casting me a friendly smile in the afternoon sun. I stare down at her as she peers up at me. “Hi, Alp. How do you like it here?” She asks, standing on her hind legs to peer down into the river below us. The wind softly brushes our fur as I reply, “Not bad. It’s very beautiful here. All of you are so kind, and the guests are very respectful.” I report. “Hm. Good.” Nessie purrs in response. 

“Hey.” She turns her body towards me and sits down. I do the same, placing my tail over my paws neatly. Nessie lowers her voice to a whisper as she speaks, causing me to prick my ears to get a better catch of her voice over the sound of guests chattering and the park music coming from the speakers around us. “I’m sorry about what went down with Drachen yesterday.” She meows. I tilt my head at her apology. “Yeah…I was uhm, concerned to say the least.” I chuckle awkwardly, a tiny smile on my face. Nessie takes a breath, the emotion in her eyes distant. “Drachen..she’s uh-..well, we’re all worried for her. Her coaster started off as a huge success, attracting a bunch of guests. But as time went on, riders were sent to the hospital and her coaster just got really rough in general. She even got pissed one day and shoved Lyra- you know her, right?” Nessie asks. I nod in response. “Good.” She continues. “Drachen shoved Lyra away from the ride controls and started controlling it herself. Busch was also going through something at the time. They were stressed about Drachen Fire and Alpengeist and a bunch of other stuff. Look, Busch doesn’t think sometimes. I don’t know why me, you and Wolf have the same problems as Drachen does. Busch, when making a coaster, fuels it with energy, pride and a bunch of positive feelings. Drachen Fire came after Busch’s other coaster in Tampa was getting popular. So I think there’s a bunch of negative emotions when Drachen was made.” She tells me.

I nod with understanding. “I see. No wonder Drachen acts so differently around me. She's jealous.” Nessie tilts her head. “You're not … mad at her?” “No. Why would I be? Everyone experiences jealousy once in their life.” I reply. Nessie let's out a soft sight. “I guess you're right.” Her eyes cloud with an emotion that looks like guilt, but it falters. “Have you eaten?” I nod my head. “Mhm. I had an uh…oh, yeah a churro.” I answer her. Nessie’s eyes light up. “NO WAY! Those are my favorite!” She purrs. Her enthusiasm makes me chuckle only a tiny bit. “Ah. I see. Well, they are very nice.” “I know,” Nessie meows, “Busch makes them.” She says proudly. “Do they make everything in the park?” I ask. Nessie shakes her head. “They made this place, the coasters. Us. But they usually let the staff operate rides, make food, and do stage work for shows.” Nessie explains.  “We just sit back and relax..” her eyes darted sideways. “Well, most of the time.” She chuckles. I hum in reply. I stand up. “I’m going to go visit Drachen. I feel as if I should apologize for how things went yesterday.” I meow. I look down at Nessie as she gets to her paws. “I think that’d be cool. But you didn’t do anything wrong, Alp. All you did was come here.” 

“I still would like to have a proper greeting with her.” I say dismissively as I turn towards Oktoberfest. Nessie follows, and her and I walk across the bridge. We make our way past the Big Bad Wolf, and arrive at Drachen Fire’ station. The German-themed music is faintly heard from speakers around us, and The Big Bad Wolf isn’t too far from our left. It’s not much of a long line. It’s quite pitiful, actually. I glance at Nessie before heading up the slope. “Is her line usually this deserted?” I ask. Nessie’s eyes are tired and she suddenly looks smaller than before. “No.” She swallows. We get inside the station, the roof guarding us from the sun’s rays. Drachen is nowhere to be seen. Lyra stands behind the control panel, her ears drooping. I nudge Nessie softly. “Hey, is she alright?” I ask, pointing at the slouching cat behind the controls. Nessie shakes her head and maneuvers between what little guests there are that fill the station as she crosses the tracks. I do the same, and they all gaze at me intensely. I’m honored that I am loved so much, but Drachen needs it too, right? Nessie sits by Lyra’s feet. Lyra looks down at the little cat, and then at me as I approach. “Hi. Alp, right?” She asks. Her voice is bored-sounding, but she does her best to sound enthusiastic. I nod in reply. “Yep. That’s me.” Lyra turns her attention back to Nessie. “Nobody’s wanting to really ride Drachen Fire anymore.” She says regrettably. Nessie’s ears go down at her words. “..that’s not a good sign, is it?” At her question, Lyra shakes her head. “No.” She turns back to the panel. At that, Nessie nods at me. “Come with me.” She leads us out of the station and into the harsh sunlight again. We wander the grounds Drachen Fire’s steel supports are shoved into. A train whooshes past us as we stand on the grass. The screams coming from the riders are..disturbing. The fur on the back of my neck rises, and Nessie catches this. “You alright?” She asks worriedly. I back away from the track. “I don’t feel safe. We need to get away.” I start to turn back towards the station. Nessie reluctantly follows me as we head under the shade for a moment before exiting and heading back into the main area of the park.

As we exit the station, a bear slowly walks out, tears in her eyes. She holds her head as a panda helps her walk, and I stare in pure horror. The guests who come off of Drachen Fire look agitated. Nessie notices this too, because as she follows my gaze, she crouches on the ground. Her gaze is one of realization, and she doesn’t speak to me as she finds her paws and sluggishly gets up. She takes off running without a word, and I follow her blindly. She races through the park, past trees, benches, shops, restaurants, and more as we reach my very own coaster. The line is quite lengthy, and Nessie finds Busch sitting on a bench by the gift shop. They watch guests line up, and they don’t notice we arrive until Nessie calls their name. Busch turns to us, dabbing their obviously glowing nose with a paw. “Hi.” They croak out. “Busch,” Nessie pants, “Drachen Fire’s rider count is dwindling. Where are Drachen and Wolf?” She asks them. “Wolf Gifts.” Busch answers.

“Actually, I’m right here.”

All three of us look up on top of the gift shop roof. Drachen sits on top, her wings open to catch the sunlight. I swallow hard. “Hi, Drachen.” Drachen just glares at me. She swoops off of the roof right in front of Busch’s face, who stumbles and falls. I immediately rush to catch them. I help the green cat up as the wince. “Ouch..” They mutter. “You alright?” I ask. Before Busch can reply, Drachen scoffs. “Of course they're fine.” She flattens her ears. “They’ll live. They won’t die from one little fall” She growls as Busch straightens out their fur. Nessie stands beside them. “Drachen, what’s going on with you?” she asks. I stand closer to Nessie. “Ask Busch. Them filling my head with a bunch of confusing shit is getting out of hand!” She snarls. A few guests look our way, and I take a step forward. “Hey, maybe you should lower your voice, please.” I glance around us. Drachen gets all up in my face suddenly, her hot, fiery breath right on my face. “Don’t try it with me. I can bite your fluff-filled head off.” She growls. Nessie and Busch both gasp, and Drachen takes a step back. “I know what’s going to happen to me. I’ll spend my last moments with Wolf, thank you very much. See you when the park closes, Busch.” Busch’s fur rises, and Drachen takes off, lifting herself into the blue, clear sky. The silence between us is deafening, apart from the happy chatter from the oblivious guests. 

“I’ve tried to give her some hope.” Busch sighs after a while. “I didn’t wanna scare her, not with Alp being here.” They look at me apologetically, and I shake my paw dismissively. “Not your fault, Busch.” I reassure them. Busch sighs warily at my response, glancing at the sky. “I just wanted you two to get along. That’s why I was so secretive with Alpengeist's blueprint. With me having a new coaster all of a sudden, surely Drachen would blow fire at everything. I know how she is. She can get angry very easily.” “I've noticed.” I meow in reply. Busch’s focus then lands on Nessie, and the aquatic looking cat butts heads with them gently. “It’s okay. I understand.” She whispers as she leans away. “So,” I start, “what do we do now?” I inquire. “Well, uhm…I suppose we just wait things out.” Busch replies. “Wait things out?” Nessie asks. “What for? Are we keeping Drachen or not?” 

“Good question.” Busch stands up and begins to stalk away, until Nessie trots forward, stomping on their tail. This causes Busch to yowl, and I glance to the side when a few guests look our way. Nessie laughs awkwardly as Busch tucks their tail close to them, their gaze conflicted. “Meet me at Drachen Fire’s station when the park closes. All of you.” They nod at me, and I nod back. “Mhm.” I meow, standing up. Busch shakes their fur, straightening their ears. “Drachen isn't Kumba. I tried to make her something she's not.” They murmur regretfully. Nessie takes a step towards the bridge to New France. “You tried. That's all that matters.” She whispers, turning away from Busch and disappearing into the crowd. Busch then nods at me. “Alp. Come with me, yeah?” I nod wordlessly and follow Busch as we walk through the park, going opposite of Nessie’s path. “Let me explain Drachen to you.” Busch takes me through Germany, the orange and blue walls of the structures around us painting a grand scenery as we walk. “I created Drachen because my park here needed a coaster. I have another park in Tampa. I made one called Kumba. He’s fast, strong, and many guests were thrilled to meet him. That got me thinking. I couldn’t leave my park here without.” I nod in understanding, staying quiet as Busch and I pass Land of the Dragons. Busch continues, casting glances at the children playing. They suddenly come to a halt, noticing a bear cub climbing on one of the statues. “Hey, little guy!” They walk forward, gently tapping the bear cub’s shoe. “Come down from there. You can’t play on those or else you’ll get hurt.” The bear cub looks at Busch, then me, then back at Busch. “Aw, okay.” He reluctantly climbs off the solid purple and blue statue with Busch guiding them. 

“There.” Busch ruffles the fur on top of the cub’s head for a moment before the cub races towards the steps of the fake treehouse. Busch turns away and trots back to me. “Sorry about that.” They purr apologetically. I shrug. “It’s okay.” I meow in response as Busch and I set off again. “As I was saying,” Busch clears their throat. “I couldn’t leave my park here without. So, me and Kasey discussed it, and brought the idea to Nessie, Wolf, and Mythica. Eventually I grew stressed. Because I felt as if everyone was targeting me, in a way. I couldn’t tell if they wanted Drachen here or not, and for one thing, I didn’t know whether to keep my friends happy, or my guests happy.” Busch chuckles slightly, their eyes tired. “Hm.” I start, “so, you made Drachen out of jealousy?” At my words, Busch’s eyes twitch. “God, you sound like Nessie.” They sigh, and I avert my gaze from them. “Apologies.” Busch stops at the entrance to Oktoberfest. “It’s okay. Go see Wolf.” Before I can reply, Busch is already halfway across the park, laying on a bench in the shade. I watch them warily. They sit with their shoulders slumped, and they shake, and I can faintly hear them crying. Soft sobs come from their throat, and I’d like to comfort them. Before I can, Dakota comes from around the corner and gently takes the green cat into her arms. 

I head into the lively part of Oktoberfest. Glancing around me, I see Drachen Fire standing tall. What catches my eye is Wolf standing outside of Wolf Gifts, his paws close together and his tail between his legs. He spots me, and raises a paw to give me a little wave. I wave back, walking slowly over to him. “Hi, Wolf.” I nod in greeting. Wolf nods back. “Hi, Alp.” They sit, looking over at Drachen Fire. I tilt my head, my fur rising in worry. “Where’s Drachen?” I ask. “She was just here a moment ago,” Wolf answers me, not taking his eyes off the electric blue tracks. “But she went to her coaster.” I sit down on his right side. “Are you feeling okay?” I ask him. Wolf chuckles warily, finally turning his head to meet my eyes. “No. I think I know what’s going to happen soon. I’m going to lose her.” Tears gloss over Wolf’s bright blue eyes, and I frown, my heart aching for this wolf that I had just met yesterday afternoon. “Oh, Wolf. I-” Wolf shakes his head. “It’s okay, Alp. It was bound to happen eventually. I kept myself shielded from the truth in the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could wake up from the nightmare of watching the love of my life turn into an angry, pain-filled monster.” Wolf’s words make my chest ache. I don’t understand love, but I understand friendship. I inhale sharply and blow out a couple piles of snow that turn into the shape of Drachen’s head. Wolf’s eyes light up, and he looks at me. “Alp..I..had no clue you could do that.” He paws the snowy art piece gently. “She’s beautiful. Just as beautiful as the day I laid eyes on her.” Wolf sniffles. I gently pat his back with a paw, and he flinches.

“You’re..cold.” He looks at me. “Sorry.” I reply flatly. Wolf shakes his head, waving a dismissive paw. “All good.” He replies. I look up at the sky and watch gray clouds cover the sun. Guests pull their hoods over their heads, some without rush for cover as rain starts to fall from the sky. Wolf and I back up just enough to get under the roof jutting out over the gift shop. A few guests stay out in the rain, their hoodies protecting them from the droplets that come from the sky. “Drachen..” Wolf breathes. “I need to make sure she’s okay.” Wolf stands up. I place a paw on his shoulder. “Hey, let's wait it out for a bit.” I suggest, “the rain looks like it’s-” A loud clap of thunder drowns out my words, causing me, Wolf, and a few other guests to jump out of fear. Wolf crouches low to the ground, his ears down against his head. “D-Drachen-” He croaks out as he looks up at me. I press back a sigh, frosty breath escaping my nose. “Okay. Stay here, alright. Mythica is right over there behind the counter.” I nod to the tiger, who is attending to guests buying wolf plushies, merch, shirts, and more. I watch Wolf scurry over behind the counter, and I make my way out into the pouring rain. I greet a few guests, my long fur getting soaked. Drachen Fire stands tall and menacing as I approach the empty station. God, this is..this is bad. Poor Drachen.

I see a ball of dark blue scales in the corner to my right. She looks up as she hears my pawsteps. “You.” Drachen growls, her eyes narrowed. “Hi.” I stand my ground, my tail dragging along the damp, cold floor of the deserted queue. Drachen sits up, grunting with the effort. “Why are you here? Go indulge in your spotlight.” She averts her gaze. I chuckle, desperately trying to lighten her mood. “It’s uhm, quite hard to do so when it’s storming out…and the guests are leaving due to the weather. So, there’s nobody to really watch me.” I sit down. Drachen rolls her eyes, growling at me. “They still love you, Alp.” My name in her mouth makes me shiver, but I repress the action. “They love you too, Drachen.” I reply, keeping calm. The rain pattering the rooftops is the only other sound between our voices. Drachen looks at me disgustedly. “Who? Everyone wants me gone now that you’re here. They look at something new and forget about me. I wasn’t meant to be here, Alp.” Drachen begins to cry, and I take a step towards her. At the sound of my paws growing closer, she snaps her jaws, smoke billowing out of them. “Don’t come any closer. You ruined me.” She backs up against the wall like a wounded puppy. I sigh in defeat and sit down again. “Look. Yes, your coaster may be rough, and there may not be a way to fix it,” I begin, “But you can still be great. Busch can come up with something else for you.” I meow. Drachen lets out an agitated hiss. “That’s not how it works, dumbass.” Her insult makes me unsheathe my claws in shock. “Alright then.” I exhale slowly. Drachen glances towards the queue entrance. “Wolf is scared.” She murmurs. “When I’m gone, he’ll be a mess.” She doesn’t look at me. I look at my paws. “Yeah. He explained that to me earlier.” I tell her. Drachen stands up and glares down at me. “I come to think this is your fault. If Busch hadn’t th-thought of you, Wolf wouldn’t be panicking.” She hisses. I stare up into her hate-filled eyes. “What?” I ask, my claws digging into the floor. “I think you’re the cause of my demise. Guests prefer you over me. You know what that does?” She begins to circle me. “It makes them realize. It made Busch realize I was a mistake. I’m nothing, Alp. I’m a monster. And I’ll die on that hill. Yes, I’m a monster, and I’ll make it known.” The dragon’s voice gets dangerously low, and my eyes widen as she spreads her wings, blocking more light filtering in from the already-cloudy sky.

With a growl of hatred, Drachen picks me up by the scruff of my neck. My paws are lifted off the ground for a moment before I’m thrown onto the cold grounds of the queue. I hit the ground with a thud, my body aching. “What the hell-” I barely have time to get those words out before Drachen’s white claws hit my face. My ears ring, and I can feel the wound burning. I stare down at the floor as bright blue blood drips down from my face and onto the ground. I don’t like to fight. I don’t. Drachen grabs my chin with force, tilting my head to make me look at her. “I hope with every waking moment, you remember who I was, and why I did this to you.” She captures my neck in her jaws, and I let out a choking cry. My claws find her head, and I rip and tear, trying to get her to release me as I feel her teeth close on my throat. “A-Agh-” I screech, watching black fade into my vision. “God, Drachen, l-let g-” She throws me into the wall. I land with a cough. I gasp for air as blue blood trickles from my nose and neck. I pant, staring up at my attacker. With a cry of desperation, I aim my horns at her like a battering ram. I run towards her, and she stands on her hind legs to try and stop me. As she does so, I leap up, raking my horns across her belly. Drachen roars with agony, collapsing to the ground. “Oh, you LITTLE FUCKER!” She reaches and grabs me by the tail, causing me to trip. With that, I land on my chin, biting the shit out of my tongue. Blood wells from it, and I spit. 

I yelp as Drachen places a talon on my head, forcing it to the ground. My head spins, and my heart races. Drachen leans down in my ear, lowering her voice. “You stole everything from me.” I close my eyes. I’m too tired to keep fighting. As I doze off, the sound of multiple pawsteps rush towards me, and I am lifted up and onto my side. I open my eyes. Nessie stands on my right, while Wolf stands on my left. Busch stands in front of Drachen, their claws out. “Get out of this queue.” They snarl quietly. “Or what?” Drachen backs up against the wall. Wolf speaks up, his eyes scared. “Please, Drachen." Listen to Busch.” They sniffle. Everyone’s fur is soaked, and Wolf’s demeanor makes him smaller than usual. At Wolf’s plea, Drachen sighs warily and walks out and into the storm. As Busch follows her, Nessie and Wolf help me up as we take after Busch. The wind picks up, and Drachen stands there, her wings drooping. Her.back faces Drachen Fire’s station, while the rest of us face her. Busch stands in front of her. “Did you attack Alp?” Drachen doesn’t reply. Busch takes a step forward. “Answer me, Drachen.” Drachen’s expression hardens. “I did.” She admits. My blood stains her teeth. Busch glances at the three of us. “Wolf.” At his name being called, Wolf leaves my side and rushes towards Drachen. The two embrace, with Drachen’s head resting on Wolf’s shoulder. Wolf begins to sob, and Drachen covers him with a wing. “I will always adore you. I love you. I hope you know that.” She whispers. Her voice is gentle as she speaks, causing Wolf to melt into her touch. I look at Nessie worriedly, but she doesn’t take her eyes off her friends. She sits and rests her tail along my back. It sits a bit awkwardly due to my spikes that rest along my spine. Drachen sits on her hind legs and takes Wolf’s face in both talons. Her eyes are kind and filled with love. “Remember me.”

Wolf’s breath catches in his throat, and I hear Nessie gasp. Drachen gently picks up Wolf and flies off of the ground. Her talons just barely reach the park grounds as she carries Wolf back to where he was seated. Wolf begins to panic as Busch’s gaze lands on us. “This is what needs to be done.” They whisper. The yellow parts on them suddenly start to glow, and their irises disappear, leaving a blank, light-golden stare. Golden ropes seem to come up from the ground, holding all of our paws in place. Nessie yelps in protest. “Hey-! Wait, Busch, what-..what is this?” She asks desperately as Wolf tugs at his ropes, his cries drowned out by the sound of the pounding rain and wind. Busch’s back faces us as they look up at Drachen. Their whole paw glows as they raise it, unsheathing their claws. “Drachen Fire is no more.” Drachen lowers her head as Busch’s claws score across the dragon’s throat. At first, red, scarlet blood pools from the wound, but it slowly turns to a glowing golden as she struggles to stand. Busch backs away. Wolf lets out a scream. “NO! NO, NO, NO! LET ME GO! DRACHEN! DRACHEN NO!” He chokes out, his breathing coming in ragged gasps as Drachen collapses on her side. The ropes around our paws disappear, and Wolf rushes to Drachen, falling to the ground and draping his body under one of her arms. Drachen’s eyes flutter as blood pools around her, scarlet and gold mixing together in the pouring rain. “Oh, my Drachen..” Wolf whimpers, tears falling out of his eyes faster than the rain can come down from the gloomy sky.

Drachen weakly nuzzles the top of Wolf’s head. “Thank you guys for the memories. I love you, Wolf. I do. Always and forever.” Nessie steps over to the dying dragon and begins to cry. I get up and stand beside Nessie, staring at Drachen as she stares at her sobbing friends. Wolf watches Drachen’s eyes go dull, the last bit of love and light fading out of them as she grows limp. Wolf lets out an agitated scream, burying his face in Drachen’s chest. Nessie chokes on her sobs, her eyes never leaving Drachen’s face. “I’m so sorry, Drachen. Oh, God, I am so sorry.” She gets up and rests her forehead against the dead dragon’s. I look at Busch, whose paw is dripping scarlet blood. Their ears are down, and they’re crying. They keep their head lowered to the ground. Wolf is trembling, and Nessie murmurs apologies into her former friend’s ear. 

A few hours pass. All four of us stand over the bridge where me and Nessie were earlier that day. The rain has stopped, but the wind still blows. Busch, grunting with the effort, pushes Drachen’s body down into the Rhine River as the moon shines down onto our damp fur. Drachen lands with a splash, and the water glows purple. A bright, neon purple as fog rises from the water. Me, Nessie and Wolf look at Busch. “What..what the hell.” Nessie meows, her yellow eyes suspicious. Busch never takes their gaze off of the water.

��“She’s in the spirit realm now.” At that, Wolf swallows, tears falling out of his eyes. “What?”

Chapter 9

Chapter 7

[dankusner]

Pumping Up Your Biceps

In the age of functional training and workouts designed to supposedly help us live longer, I’ve found that working on my biceps has weirdly become a sort of guilty pleasure.

Do stronger biceps help me out in my daily life on Manhattan’s West Side?

Maybe a little, but not really.

Will they extend my stay in this mortal coil?

Doubtful.

But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let the trend cycle influence my human right to exercise for aesthetic reasons.

Sun’s out, guns out, baby.

Unless your job requires you to squeeze into an F1 cockpit, race a bicycle up Alpe d'Huez, or make Mike White happy, there’s no reason to train your biceps—but there’s no reason not to train your biceps, either.

But surely you’d prefer to have a cut set of arms?

Why it’s important to do a range of biceps exercises

In order to understand what makes a great biceps exercise—and why it’s worth having more than one of them in your rotation—you should first have an understanding of the anatomy involved.

(I’ll keep it brief, I promise.)

The biceps brachii—collectively, the long and short heads of the biceps—are the part you would probably point to if I asked you to show me your biceps muscle.

(Oh, also—“biceps” is singular as well as plural. There is no “bicep.”)

The long head is on the outside, and the short head is the part that’s closest to your torso.

But there’s more.

(Only a little bit, I swear.)

“You also have the brachialis, which helps with elbow flexion, and then the brachioradialis, which connects into the forearm,” says Max Castrogaleas, CSCS, an exercise physiologist at HSS.

“They’re going to be involved when you're doing exercises like a hammer curl or a reverse curl, and they’re also going to give you the support you need to perform the more isolated movements.”

The point is, while the biceps brachii gets most of the glory, strengthening your brachialis and brachioradialis is what ultimately enables you to train those mighty mirror muscles.

And the more attention you pay to these unsung heroes, the bigger you can ultimately go on your curls.

Conveniently, though, the best biceps exercises give you a bit of both, and if you include even two or three of the exercises below in your training, you’ll be golden. The best biceps exercises, according to trainers

Supinated-grip biceps curl

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

The OG biceps curl is still one of the best exercises you can do to fill out your shirtsleeves.

“‘Supinated grip’ just means you're performing the curl with your palms facing up,” says Luke Carlson, founder and CEO of Discover Strength.

“This can be done with dumbbells, a barbell, or on a machine. Either way, the supinated-grip biceps curl is key.”

That’s because, of all the biceps exercises, this one hits the muscle group most holistically.

“The biceps does three things,” explains Carlson.

“The first function is to supinate, or rotate outwards. That's actually the first role of the bicep, and very few people who lift weights are aware of that. The second is to cause flexion at the elbow, which is what we think about when we do a curl.”

(The third is to bring the humerus forward—that is, raise your arm.)

The supinated-grip biceps curl takes direct aim at the first two.

“To maximize the biceps, we want to make sure we're supinating and then curling as well,” says Carlson.

The supinated-grip biceps curl “accomplishes two of the major functions of the biceps, so it’s a wonderful exercise, because it mimics the exact kinesiological function of the biceps.”

How to do it:

From a standing or seated position, hold a dumbbell in each hand, palms facing forward.

(Alternatively, you could use a barbell.)

Your arms should be almost completely straight at your sides, with just the slightest bend to protect your joints.

From here, keeping your upper arms tight against your torso, curl your forearms up towards your shoulders.

Similar to how you don’t want the weights to make it all the way to the bottom of the rep, stop an inch or two away from the top.

“If we come too high, we actually take tension off the muscle,” says Carlson.

Pause here for a second, and then slowly lower the weights with control to the starting position.

That’s one rep.

Trainer tip:

You might have noticed some people at the gym rotating their grip as they curl the weights up, presumably in order to involve additional muscles.

“They're essentially working on different areas of the biceps as they're playing around with the rotation of the forearm,” says Castrogaleas.

The thing with this technique is, regardless of which way you’re rotating, you’re not hitting either set of muscles as directly as you would if you just picked one grip.

“There’s no benefit to rotating as you curl up,” says Carlson.

“There's also a lot of gym mythology about how, as you curl up, your pinky has to be above your index finger, and that's just not the case.”

Hammer curl

When it comes to biceps exercises, even subtle adjustments can make huge differences.

While a hammer curl (technically, a neutral-grip biceps curl) might look almost identical to a supinated-grip biceps curl, there’s a lot more going on.

“This is where we're going to target the brachialis—one of the major elbow flexors—and then also the brachioradialis, the muscle that connects into the forearm,” says Castrogaleas.

Yes, you’re training your biceps muscles, but you’re also training the supporting muscles that will ultimately enable you to lift even more weight and possibly prevent an injury.

“When you start to isolate a muscle, especially the biceps brachii—the short head and long head—those muscles are going to fatigue pretty fast, so you might start to use a little bit of momentum, which could put stress on tendons, the joints, and even your back,” he says.

With the hammer curl, “we're engaging more of the muscles that give us grip and support.”

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How to do it:

Take a standing or seated position.

Grab a dumbbell in each hand and let your arms hang almost fully straight at your sides, palms facing one another.

Keeping your upper arms locked in place, bend at the elbows to slowly curl the weights up, maintaining a neutral grip throughout the movement.

Pause for a second once the dumbbells arrive at the top of the rep, near shoulder level with an inch or two to spare.

Still keeping your upper arms in line with your torso, slowly reverse the movement to return the weights to the starting position.

That’s one rep.

Trainer tip:

As you curl the weights up, “you can bring the dumbbells slightly inwards, towards the midline of the body,” says Castrogaleas.

“Either way, you're still going to be targeting similar muscles. However, once you go a little bit closer into the midline of the body, you can get the long head of the biceps to kick in a little bit more.” Also, a little bit of momentum is okay during your last rep or two, “especially when you're working towards muscular hypertrophy,” he says.

“Just make sure you’re not arching through your back or pulling with your torso.”

Chin-up

“The chin-up is a great way to stimulate the biceps through a full range of motion, including in a stretched position,” says Carlson.

“We have some evidence that training in a stretched position, where the biceps is more elongated, might more effectively stimulate hypertrophy.”

Not only is the chin-up a great exercise for building your biceps, but it’s actually also technically a functional movement, says Castrogaleas, so it comes with the added benefit of helping you perform isolation exercises (like the other moves on this list) and even some tasks outside the gym more safely and effectively.

“It strengthens all of the areas that you need to hold a stable position,” says Castrogaleas.

“Although a biceps curl is going to be simpler to perform, I like to make sure that the individuals that I work with have overall strength before they start to go into isolation movements.”

How to do it:

Stand directly beneath a pull-up bar.

If you’re unable to reach the bar without more than a small hop, set up a platform or box.

This will also help you come back down after the set.

Grab the bar with a supinated grip, hands about shoulder width apart.

Your arms should be roughly parallel with one another.

From a dead hang position, knees slightly bent with ankles crossed behind you, pull yourself up until your chin is just over the bar.

Hold this position for one second.

Then slowly, with control, lower yourself back to a dead hang.

That’s one rep.

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Trainer tip:

“Make sure that as you're pulling yourself up, you're keeping your shoulders away from your ears,” says Castrogaleas.

“What tends to happen, especially when you don't have adequate back, shoulder, or arm strength, is you start to pull a little bit too much with your shoulders or traps, and the shoulders start to come up to the ears a little bit. That can put a little bit more strain on your neck.”

Biceps curl machine

You could do preacher curls on a preacher bench or even a regular bench, but to get the most out of this exercise you’ll want to skip the free weights and head over to the machines.

The simple reason: gravity.

“If you think about it, gravity acts in one direction on a weight. But when you do a biceps curl, you're creating rotation around the elbow joint,” says Carlson.

“So, you end up being strong and weak at different points. If you have a 30-pound barbell in your hands, at some points it's way too light. At others, it's too heavy.”

With a machine, “there's direct resistance that your biceps muscles have to oppose at every portion of the range of motion. There are no dead spots; there's just constant tension throughout the entire range of motion,” he says. “So, I think, if anybody really wants to grow big biceps, a biceps curl machine should always be a priority.”

How to do it:First, make sure you’re using the right machine. Depending on the brand of machines your gym uses, it’s likely either called the “biceps curl” or the “preacher curl.” Sit down on the seat and rest your elbows on the pad in front of you, making sure your elbow joint is lined up with the machine’s axis of rotation. (Most machines will have a red dot or similar indicator to show you where this is.) Grab one handle in each hand, then curl your forearms towards your collarbone. Pause for a second at the top of the rep, then slowly reverse the movement to return to the starting position. That’s one rep.

Trainer tip:

If you have access to a biceps curl machine, Carlson advises using this instead of doing curls with free weights, including the supinated-grip biceps curl and hammer curl mentioned above. Whether or not this is possible will depend on the design of the machine—specifically, if its handles allow for different grips. “One hundred percent, if someone has access to [a biceps curl machine], they should definitely choose that,” he says.

Reverse curl

We already talked about how rotating your grip 45 degrees inward from a supinated grip to a neutral grip recruits more of the supporting muscles around the elbow and forearm. Well, the reverse curl (again, technically, a pronated-grip biceps curl) takes things a step further. “Like the hammer curl, we're still involving the different heads of the biceps and the brachioradialis and brachialis, but this one's going to mainly shift the focus to the forearms,” says Castrogaleas. It's still a biceps exercise (whenever you're flexing at the elbow, you’re involving your biceps), but you can think of the reverse curl more as a supporting movement that’s going to boost your performance across the board—from biceps curls to power cleans. “It’s going to help with compound movements, such as the chin-up, the pull-up, the lat pull-down, and really anything where the elbow has to flex,” he says.

How to do it:From a standing position, hold a dumbbell in each hand with your arms almost fully extended at your sides. Rotate your forearms inward so your palms are facing behind you. This is your starting position. Keeping your forearms and wrists in this pronated position (or as close to it as you can manage), and your upper arms as still as possible, curl the weights up towards your shoulders. Pause for a second at the top of the motion, and then lower the weights back down to the starting position. That’s one rep.

Trainer tip:

Most biceps curl machines won’t have a good grip option for reverse curls, but you can use a standard preacher curl bench to add extra stability and focus to this movement. If available at your gym, Castrogaleas recommends setting up on a preacher bench and using an EZ curl bar instead of dumbbells. (That’s the zig zag-shaped barbell that you can put plates on.) Unlike a typical straight bar, the EZ bar is going to let you put your hands in a more natural position while performing this exercise.

[driveguarda]

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[doctors-journal]

21 September

Justin is gone and I don’t know what to think.

Last night we stayed in Geneva. He was even more restless than in Brussels, pacing across the hotel room for most of the night. I’m afraid I snapped at him, but I think he did eventually sleep.

This morning, we took a series of trains through a valley nestled between the Alps, to the small town of Meiringen. We checked into the inn there, and then Justin insisted on hiking out to the falls. This late in the season, the town was quiet and we had the trail to ourselves.

However, before we reached the falls, a boy came running up the trail from the inn with a message from the innkeeper. It said there was a woman who had suddenly fallen ill and was dying and I was the nearest doctor. So, I went. I tried to get Justin to come with me, but he refused. I should have dragged him with me, like he’s been dragging me all around Europe, but he’s too stubborn. I passed a young woman on my way back. I don’t know who she was. Maybe she was his Moriarty, for all I know.

When I got back to the inn, there was no woman. The innkeeper didn’t know anything about the message. Someone set me up—the question is who. I felt it like a stone in the pit of my stomach and fearing the worst I just about ran back up the trail to catch up to Justin. I got all the way to the falls. There was a plaque memorialising Sherlock Holmes, but no sign of Justin, just the walking stick he bought in Interlaken leaning against the rocks, and next to it, a cigarette box.

It would be just like him… I wonder how many people have tried to follow in Sherlock Holmes’s footsteps and plunged off that ledge, even though he wasn’t even real. But I can’t believe that Justin would really…

I grabbed the walking stick and the box and ran back to the inn, hoping I had somehow missed him along the way, that maybe he had followed me back to Meiringen after all. I got all the way back to our empty room at the inn. He wasn’t there. Everything was just where we had left it before our hike, except for one of his Sherlock Holmes books sitting open on the desk.

I don’t know what made me glance at it. Maybe Justin really has rubbed off on me—that even the smallest detail has to be there for a reason. This one couldn’t have been an accident. Just glancing at the page it was open to, it was clear—it was about Sherlock Holmes’s death. I read it. I don’t know what else I could have done.

I half expected it, but it was just as bizarre as when Liza showed me how Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson met. It was the same. It explains every backtrack and detour we made. They were all there. All the disguises, and half of everything Justin said through our whole trip. It was all on purpose. All of it.

I can’t believe that Justin would just… Maybe I just don’t want to believe it. But the way he talked, he seemed to think he was leading his Moriarty into a trap. That he wasn’t sure he would survive. Maybe it was that woman on the trail, but there’s no evidence, and I don’t even know where she went from there.  There’s got to be something else going on… And why would these books end on such a damn depressing note?

I have to call Liza.

Please pick up, please pick up…

When she showed me that Sherlock Holmes book where Dr. Watson fainted, it was because Sherlock Holmes came back from the dead. He can’t have died that many times, right? I have to know what happened there. The detective wouldn’t do it by halves, would he?

“What? Why?” is Liza’s response to the whole mad thing. I can’t blame her for being confused.

The explanation of what’s going on sounds even more absurd when I say it out loud: Justin dragged me across Europe fleeing from a criminal he calls his “Moriarty” and now he’s stranded me in the middle of nowhere in Switzerland and disappeared and he better not have jumped off of those damn falls or I’m going to kill him.

“He what!?” At least Liza gets it. “This is a bit much, even for amateur theatre… But if he’s really following it, he shouldn’t really be dead! Let me find it!”

He’d better not be dead. My heart feels like it’s going to burst, like I’m having palpitations. Liza just said he may be alive. I’m so going to kill him…

She has me on speaker phone now. “Here it is… Spring of 1894… Ronald Adair… Park Lane… The Origins of Tree Worship! There we are!”

“The what?”

“So, basically, Sherlock Holmes shows up three years later out of nowhere, disguised as a poor old bibliophile. First he bumps into Watson on the street in front of the place where a murder just happened, and then he drops by Watson’s house and reveals himself, and that’s when Watson faints.”

“No, I’m not waiting three years to find out if Justin is dead or alive. Is there anything about what he did right after?”

“I’m just getting there… Let’s see… ‘You were never in it…’ There we go! The note was genuine, Sherlock faced Moriarty on the path, they wrestled over the fall, and then Sherlock pulls some baritsu moves and tosses Moriarty off.”

“What? Justin doesn’t know jujutsu… does he?”

“I don’t know, but Sherlock Holmes did, apparently. So, he throws Moriarty into the falls and then decides he’s going to fake his own death anyway so that Moriarty can’t catch him or anything—and definitely not because he’s moping about Watson getting married. Sorry, trying to find Justin, this is just so crazy…”

“I know. I’m the one living it.”

“Sorry, if I’d known he’d pull something like this, I wouldn’t have dumped him on you like that.”

“It’s okay. Even with everything, I can’t bring myself to regret it. For all his weirdness, he helped me get back on my feet when I wouldn’t let anyone else, maybe because everything was so weird with him. Now it’s my turn to help him out. When I find him, I’m dragging him to a hospital whether he wants it or not.”

“Did he get hurt while you were running around Europe?”

“No. His health has never been great, but it took a serious decline after I left. He needs serious help.”

“We’ll find him. Let’s see, this says Sherlock climbed up the cliff face, hid there while Watson found the scene, and then scrambled back down after. Also, one of Moriarty’s henchmen was throwing boulders down at him like something out of a James Bond movie—or maybe that’s Indiana Jones.”

“Justin couldn’t’ve climbed up and down the cliff. He may have had enough energy to drag me across Europe, but that’s too much, even for him, in that state.”

“Okay, well, then he ran through the mountains and ended up in Florence a week later.”

“I can’t chase him around the rest of Europe. I haven’t the slightest how his Moriarty tracked us from city to city.”

“Wait, what about this? There was someone he told where he was—his brother, Mycroft, who has some important government position.”

“Do you know if Justin has a brother?”

“Beats me.”

“I assumed it was Justin who picked me up and drove me to the station in London, but maybe it could have been his brother… Apparently, it was supposed to be Mycroft…”

“He does strive for accuracy.”

“Yeah… Thank you, Liza. Next time, lunch is on me, wherever you want.”

“Bring Sherlock home first, then we’ll talk lunch plans. Good luck, Solomon.”

“Thanks. You’re better than I deserve.”

“You know it!”

It’s time to go back to London and find Justin’s brother.