#this is gonna be multi chapter but i still have to plan out the rest of it since i dont have much planned out rn

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Twist of Fate

Pairing: Foggy Nelson X Reader

Rating: T (Although it's probably more on the G side)

Word count: ~1700

Story Summary: You run into your jerk of an ex-boyfriend after being stood up for a first date at a local bar.

Luckily for you, however, a handsome blond-haired stranger comes to your rescue...

Tags: Meet-cute, nothing but fluffy goodness

A/N: Welcome to my very first Foggy Nelson fic! This is just a short little thing to get me comfortable with writing him, but it has potential to become a multi-chapter fic (plus I plan to write Foggy's version of events as a companion piece), so if you'd like to be tagged in updates to this or other Foggy stories (or anything else I write) please let me know!

Thanks to @shiorimakibawrites for the quick beta!

Where is he? you thought to yourself as you waited for your date to show up to the bar you were currently at. He was supposed to be here 30 minutes ago… Did I get the day wrong?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and scrolled through the messages on the dating app you and he had matched on. Nope. Thursday, 7 PM, Josie's Bar. Guess I got stood up.

You sighed and got up from the worn leather booth at which you had been sitting. Might as well grab a drink before I go home.

You started towards the bar, freezing when you locked eyes with your ex-boyfriend, who had been standing over by the pool tables. Of course. As if tonight couldn't get any worse. 

It had taken an entire year after your relationship with Jason had ended for you to be ready to get back out onto the dating scene, and the absolute last thing you wanted after being stood up for your very first date post-breakup was to run into him .

You cringed as he said your name, wanting nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. “Jason.”

A smarmy smirk spread across Jason's face. “Yeah, I thought that was you.”

He eyed you up and down. “How have you been? You look good.”

“ I've been well.” No thanks to you, you added silently.

“How about a drink?”

You shook your head. “Actually, I'm meeting someone, so I should go.”

Jason grabbed your elbow as you turned to leave. “Really? Because I've been watching you for the past 30 minutes and it’s pretty clear that whoever you're waiting for isn't gonna show up.”

Your blood froze. “Let me go, Jason.”

Instead of releasing you, Jason's grip tightened.  “Come on, baby, just one drink for old time’s sake. Then maybe we can head back to my place, catch up properly--”

“-- There you are, beautiful.”

You felt Jason's grip loosen as a very attractive blonde-haired man slipped his arm loosely around your waist.

“Sorry I'm late,” the man continued. “I was working on my opening argument for court next week and lost track of time.”

You broke free of Jason's grasp as you stepped into the man’s hold, thankful for the rescue. “It's alright, honey. We still have time for pre-dinner drinks before our reservation.”

The man nodded, slightly tightening his hold on you at your willingness to play along. “By the way, I have something special planned for after dinner tonight.”

You let out a fake giggle and lightly tapped the man on his chest. “Mmm, I certainly hope it's what I think it is.”

The man grinned. “You’ll have to wait and see, but I definitely think you'll enjoy it.”

He turned towards Jason, pretending to have just noticed him. “Sorry, didn't see ya there. Franklin Nelson. And you are?”

Jason scowled, obviously displeased at the fact that you seemingly had been waiting on someone. “Just leaving.”

You held back a sigh of relief. Thank God. 

Jason looked back over at you. “I'll catch up with you later.”

God, I hope not. “Mmm.”

You waited until Jason threw back the rest of the beer he had been holding and left the bar before breathing a sigh of relief and stepping away from your mysterious rescuer. “Thank you so much for that… Franklin, was it?”

Franklin nodded as he let go of your waist. “Right, but everyone actually calls me Foggy.”

You introduced yourself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. And you're welcome, by the way. You looked uncomfortable, so I figured that guy’s attention was unwanted.”

You nodded. “Yeah, that was my ex-boyfriend. The relationship was… let's just say ‘not very healthy’, so seeing him tonight brought back a lot of bad memories.” 

Foggy studied you for a moment. “I'm really sorry about that. How long were you together?”

“Three years.” You rubbed your elbow at the memory of Jason's grasp on it. “I should've left him way sooner than I did, it's just that he…” You trailed off.

Foggy huffed out a mirthless laugh. “Don't tell me, he kept promising he'd change.”

“Actually, no. He gaslit me into believing that no one else would want me and that I was lucky to have him.” You shook your head. “Anyway, I really appreciate your help. Can I buy you a drink as a thank-you?”

Foggy shook his head, a small smile on his face. “How about I buy you a drink instead? After all, it's not every day I get to rescue a beautiful woman from an uncomfortable encounter with her ex.”

Your face heated as you nodded. “Okay.”

“Great! What'll you have?”

You gave Foggy your drink order. “I'll go get us a booth?”

Foggy nodded. “Sounds good. I'll be right back.”

“Okay.”

You sat down in an empty booth and pulled out your phone, sighing once again at the lack of communication from Timothy, your supposed-to-have-been date for the evening.

You put your phone away and watched as Foggy chatted amiably with the bartender while he waited for your drinks.

He laughed at something the bartender said. “You know it. Thanks, Josie.”

He picked up your drinks and headed over to you.

“Thank you,” you said as he set your drink down then sat across from you.

“‘Welcome,” Foggy replied. “So what brings you out here tonight?”

You shrugged. “I was supposed to be meeting someone for a first date, but he didn't show.”

A small smirk formed on Foggy's lips. “I guess his loss is my gain then, huh?”

You couldn't help but smile at his charm. “I guess so. What about you? What brings you out here tonight?”

“I was supposed to be having after-work drinks with a friend, but something came up and he cancelled on me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well then… I guess his loss is my gain, right?”

Foggy grinned and raised his beer bottle. “To cancelled plans.”

You raised your drink as well. “ And to being stood up -- although in this case I don't think I actually mind.”

You lightly clinked your drink against his then took a sip. “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do when you're not being a knight in shining business suit?” 

Foggy chuckled. “I'm an attorney with Nelson, Murdock, and Page.”

You nodded. Foggy had said something about prepping for court when he was rescuing you from Jason. “What kind of law do you practice?”

“All sorts, but these days it's mostly criminal defense.”

Your brows furrowed as a memory struck you. “Wait, weren't you one of the attorneys who took Wilson Fisk down a few years back?”

Foggy nodded. “Guilty as charged. Unfortunately the feds screwed that one up.”

You shook your head. “Still, that's impressive.”

You and Foggy continued talking, with him telling you about his family, who owned Nelson's Meats over on 59th, his law partners, Matt and Karen, and his time practicing corporate law (“don’t get me wrong,” he said, “the money was great, but it felt a little bit like I was selling my soul”), while you told him about your own family and friends.

You paused as your phone lit up with a new message from Timothy. Sorry, I don't think I'm actually ready to date yet. Hope you didn't wait too long for me.

You snorted derisively. “So I just heard from the guy I was supposed to be having drinks with tonight.”

Foggy's eyebrows raised. “Bit late letting you know he wasn't going to make it, isn't he?”

“Yeah, it's been --” You checked the time. “Wow, we've been sitting here for over two and a half hours. I should be getting home soon, I didn't realize it was so late.”

“Do you live far?”

You shook your head. “No, I'm just a few blocks away.”

Foggy bit his lip. “In that case… is it okay if I walk you home?”

You smiled. “Yeah, I'd appreciate that. Thanks.”

You stood and waited as Foggy brought your long-since-empty drinkware back over to the bar and bade the bartender (who you had learned was actually the owner, Josie) goodbye.

Foggy walked back over to you with a smile. “Shall we, then?”

You nodded. “Yep, all set.”

You smiled at Foggy as he held the door open for you to step through. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Foggy followed you into the cool night air. “Alrighty, so which way are we going?”

“Oh, uh…” You gestured in the direction of your apartment building. “This way.”

The two of you set off down the sidewalk.

You glanced over at Foggy as you walked together. “By the way, I, uh, I had a really nice time tonight.”

Foggy looked over at you with a smile in return. “So did I. In fact, I was, um, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to have dinner with me? Say… Saturday night?”

Your heart fluttered. “I'd love to.”

“Great! I was thinking maybe Sullivan's? 7:30?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Foggy pulled out his phone as the two of you stopped at a crosswalk. “Give me your number and I'll text you tomorrow to confirm once I make a reservation.”

You waited as Foggy added your name as a new contact, then recited your phone number. A few seconds later, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

“Okay,” Foggy said, pocketing his phone as the crosswalk light changed to ‘ walk ’. “You should have mine now.”

You quickly checked your phone and saw that you had received a text message from an unsaved number. “Yep, looks like it came through.”

You put your phone back in your pocket as you and Foggy reached your apartment building. “This is me, by the way. Thanks for walking me home.”

Foggy shook his head. “It was my pleasure, really.”

You shyly bit your lip. “So I'll… see you Saturday night?”

“Yeah.” Foggy leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “‘Night.”

Your face heated as a smile spread across your lips. “Goodnight, Foggy.”

You turned and headed inside your building, your smile remaining as you made your way up to your apartment.

Tonight hadn't turned out the way you had expected…

…It had turned out even better.

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey Is: Chapter One: Never Stayed Dead

Summary: Following the events at Black Mesa, Gordon ends up learning more about Benrey. He might even end up liking him eventually.

[A/N] This was supposed to be a one shot about Gordon and Benrey starting to get along; the start of a slow burn that still feels complete as a stand alone. And then I was gonna do more one shots along their relationship journey, each feeling complete on its own. I've done this with ships before to great success but uh... that didn't happen here. It just kept going until I had to start splitting it into chapters at which point I was invested in it. I have nothing planned so it might end up meandering at some point but that's okay, I'm working on chapter 7 now and still going strong and still enjoying writing it so the journey will take us wherever it ends up taking us.

Also, I know that Benrey seems to most often be portrayed as basically not taking damage from things but like, in the series because of how G-mod works, blood still sprays from him sometimes so I have chosen to interpret that as he takes the damage but then heals from it really quick. Which lead to other ideas that end up being rather important to how I write Benrey.

~

Upon getting hired at Black Mesa, Gordon hadn’t thought too much about the housing provided to the employees. It was a top secret research facility out in the middle of the New Mexico dessert, mostly buried under it, and a long multi-hour drive from the next nearest bit of civilization. Said bit of civilization being nothing but a small town that didn’t even have an airport. So of course the job had come with a place to live, anything else would’ve caused getting to and from work to take longer than actual work or require him and everyone else to camp out in the dessert above the facility. Now though, upon fast walking away from the Chuck E. Cheese – with Tommy’s birthday party over, capping the nightmare at last, he was finally free – he really wished he had a place to stay in Tuefort too.

Whether the living area in Black Mesa was still intact or not was hard to say for sure. But even if it was, based off the state the rest of the facility he’d seen had been in, likely it had been overrun with aliens and military goons, leaving it a horrid mess. One he wouldn’t want to clean up or just live next to even if the option had been available to him. Which it wasn’t thanks to how long the drive down there was when he didn’t even have a car currently.

Did he even have a job at Black Mesa anymore? If so did he want to keep it after all that? Even if the answer to either of those was ‘yes’ he didn’t want go back right now for sure. Not until someone else cleaned up the mess. Which should take a while, meaning he had plenty of time to think about it for now.

Instead he kept walking, trying not to think about anything other than finding Tuefort’s one hotel, if he could just remember where it was. He should still have his wallet on him under the HEV suit and thus some money, hopefully enough to rent a room long enough to figure things out.

Dressed in a blood splattered suit of what was essentially orange armor and with a hand that was hopefully not too obviously a gun at first glance, he got curious looks from passersby as he made his way down the sidewalk. There were quite a few people about too; the town was abuzz. Likely that had something to do with the military flying over to get to Black Mesa. Luckily, despite their intrigue, no one stopped him to ask questions about who he was or what he thought about the military. Tuefort’s one claim to fame was being a weird place filled with weird people so he could hopefully continue to pass as a normal type of weird person that had nothing to do with anything important. So he avoided eye contact as much as possible and held his gun hand close to try to disguise it as such.

He’d have to do something about it eventually though. Walking around with a gun for an hand might not be illegal – this was America after all, gun laws were way more lax than was probably wise – but it sure was weird. People would ask about it for sure and he didn’t want to talk about it. Could anything be done about it though? Was taking it off and replacing it with proper prosthetic an option? … If not then he would have to…

“Hey.”

He jumped, snapping to face the ally he was passing by, pointing said gun arm at the figure leaning against the wall within. Quickly, he lowered it; he couldn’t just go around pointing his gun at anyone who startled him even if the voice had sounded uncomfortably familiar. Except well, it wasn’t just the voice that was familiar.

“Benrey!” Gordon snapped the gun back up. “Why aren’t you dead? You’re supposed to be dead.” It was a struggle to keep his voice down but he didn’t want to call undue attention.

“What? Who told you I was dead?” It sounded like a genuine question but with Benrey who could possibly tell if he was genuine about anything?

“No one. We killed you or… or I thought we did.” He should’ve known better though, huh? Benrey never stayed dead.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a cheater but I’m better now. So where you headed? Off to steal something?”

If Gordon shot him, how much trouble would he get in? … Probably more than was worth it considering Benrey couldn’t die, not permanently anyway. “No. I’m looking for a hotel ‘cause I need a place to sleep for a while before I try to find out if any part of Black Mesa’s still operational and if I also still have a job there if so. I don’t have time for you so I’m just gonna leave now.”

Maybe it was a mistake to turn his back on whatever the fuck Benrey was but Gordon didn’t really care anymore and did it anyway, resuming heading down the sidewalk. If Benrey wanted to kill him, he would do it and Gordon couldn’t do a single thing to stop him apparently. So he was just going to do his best to not let Benrey bother him and hope that would convince him to finally leave.

“You’re headed the wrong direction.”

Gordon skid to a halt, turning to look back at Benrey as he stepped out of the ally. “What?”

“Hotel’s down that way, on the other side of town.” Benrey pointed in the opposite direction Gordon had been heading.

“Are you sending me in that direction so I’ll walk all the way to that side of town, find no hotel, forcing me to walk all the way back to this side of town again before I finally find it?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to make my life a living hell.”

Benrey stared at him in silence for a several seconds. Had his eyes always been that yellow and Gordon was just now noticing or was it a new thing? “Whatever, I don’t care if you believe me or not. I’m just trying to help an old pal out. Which I didn’t have to do after you cheated to beat me up. Uncool, man, uncool.” Well at least he wasn’t unphased by his defeat. Not that him being bitter about it really helped Gordon much. If anything that was bad as it gave Benrey all the more reason to target him.

“You know what? Fine. If you know where the hotel is, take me there, lead the way.” Gordon flourished his good arm in the direction Benrey had said the hotel lay in.

“Why? You planning to steal something once you’re there?”

Far too tired to play this game, Gordon didn’t take the bait. In hindsight, he should’ve never responded to such nonsense, it’s clearly what Benrey wanted. Well, with defeating Benrey for good off the table, Gordon was done playing his games. He wasn’t going to be a fun target anymore. “If you don’t know the way, that’s fine. I’m fully capable of finding it on my own.” Though he would really rather just have someone bring him there, even if it was Benrey, so he could finally get a shower and a full night’s sleep that much sooner.

More of that silent thoughtful stare, his pupils narrowing to slits. How Gordon had ever missed the fact that Benrey wasn’t human was a mystery. What was he though? Gordon would love to know but at the same time it was Benrey. No doubt he’d make any attempt to study or experiment on him a massive pain in the ass.

“I’m waiting. You gonna lead the way or no.”

“Well uh… I don’t know where it is exactly,only that it’s on the side of town closest to Black Mesa, which is over that way.” He pointed again and it was indeed the direction Black Mesa lay in.

“Great, awesome, thanks for the help.” Gordon started in that direction. If it was a trick, he’d already been walking so long already it hardly mattered. And if not, it’d get him to a place he could rest that much sooner. So it was probably worth the risk.

“You’re welcome,” Benrey said as he fell in step with Gordon, sounding as if he hadn’t picked up on the frustration and sarcasm at all.

Gordon turned his head to look at him, intending to tell him to leave but bit back on it. It wouldn’t make him leave and might give him opening to be more annoying. So instead he clamped his mouth shut, turned to look solely where he was going and kept walking. His only hope of escaping Benrey was no longer being a fun thing to play with and that meant he had to do his best to ignore Benrey and all his attempts to be a nuisance.

The silence between them held for maybe a grand total of two whole minutes before Benrey broke it. “So when’s your hand gonna grow back?”

Gordon took a breath to respond but again bit back on it. He wasn’t raising to the bait. Benrey was trying to make him angry by bringing up his missing hand again.

“I mean I know humans heal slower and stuff, it’s why everyone’s always taking my juice, ‘cause they’re impatient and don’t wanna wait, but it’s been days now so it should be starting to come back, right? Unless it can’t ‘cause the gun’s there now. I could cut that off for you if you want. Unless you wanna keep the gun, it is pretty cool. You have to promise not to steal anything with it though.”

Gordon should stay quiet, really he should, Benrey was talking nonsense, again. But even with how exhausted he was by the events of the last week, or however long that nightmare had lasted, he couldn’t just not be curious. “What do you mean ‘everyone’s always taking your… juice’?”

“I mean they’re always taking my juice. What else could that sentence mean?”

“What are they taking your juice for?” And what did he even mean by ‘juice’? But one question at a time.

“To put in health packs and stuff so they can heal up real fast when they get a boo-boo. You should really pay better attention when people are talking.”

Gordon skidded to a halt, too shocked to be annoyed by the implication he hadn’t been paying attention. “You mean the healing stuff in the health stations and health packs that Black Mesa makes are filled with your… juice?”

Benrey continued on for a couple more steps before realizing Gordon had stopped. He turned back to face him. Before he could get a word out though, Gordon interrupted.

“And before you accuse me of not paying attention again, I am paying complete and total attention. I just want clarification because I was told it was just a compound one of the teams in Black Mesa invented in a lab. There was never any mention of any juice from any… whatever the fuck you are.”

Benrey frowned, smacking his lips a couple times in seeming thought. “I told them to tell people. But yeah, they take my juice, mix it from something to make it go further and last longer, then put it in the medkits and stuff.”

He could still be lying, trying to mess with Gordon through making him believe he’d injected himself with Benrey’s ‘juice’ a fuckton of times over the years and especially in the last week. But on the other hand, he did undoubtedly have some crazy regenerative properties, healing from gunshot wounds like it was no problem, so of course someone in Black Mesa would try to harness and use that if they could. And from what he knew, a not insubstantial amount of Black Mesa’s funding had come from selling those medkits, often through shady channels if the rumors were to believed.

The realization that Benrey had been at Black Mesa as far more than a security guard wasn’t surprising as he was the exact kind of thing many of the scientists there liked to poke, study, and use. What was surprising though was that they’d managed to contain him. Congrats to them, if only they’d managed to keep him locked up.

Shaking off the shock, Gordon resumed walking. Though he moved slower than before; he was tired and not done with this conversation. So this time, Benrey falling in step next to him was exactly what he wanted. “Okay, knowing I’ve been injected with your… juice is kinda gross. I guess how gross depends on what exactly you mean by ‘juice’. Is it your blood or… or… where do they draw it from?”

Benrey shrugged. “Why do you wanna know? Gonna try to steal some to grow your hand back faster?”

Would straight from the source be enough for such a thing? The medkits and health stations could do a lot, up to and including healing bullets wounds as he’d learned the hard way, but they couldn’t grow back lost limbs. That had been stressed pretty hard in training to prevent people from getting too reckless. But even straight from the source could… “No. I may not like you but stealing your blood or… whatever you mean by ‘juice’ wouldn’t be something I want to stoop to.” Even if he did have some right to because it was Benrey who had caused his arm to get chopped off in the first place. “Gotta try to return to having some sense of morality now that I’m outta that nightmare. Besides, I doubt it would work. Unlike whatever you are, human limbs don’t grow back once they’re cut off. If you’re quick and the cut is clean enough it can sometimes be reattached but that’s the most anyone’s ever been able to do even with the medkit goo.”

“Wait, what do you mean? Of course it’s gonna grow back, it just takes longer ‘cause all your healing stuff takes longer for some reason.” Did he really not know or was he messing with Gordon, trying to get an angry raise out of him? Either way the only thing making it easy to resist the temptation to shoot him in the face was the fact so many other people were around and would see.

“No. It’s never growing back. It physically can’t grow back. My hand’s gone for good and there’s nothing I do can do to change that.” It was old news by now but saying it out loud made it more real somehow. A tinge of panic threatened to crawl up his throat and take his breath and thought away. A part of his body was gone, chopped off and replaced with a gun of all things. A tool good only for hurting and killing.

He had to stop walking and step to the side to lean against a nearby building so he could focus on just breathing. In and out… in and out… he wasn’t having a panic attack today. He was far too exhausted to put up with that. He’d freak out about it again later! Right now he just needed a place to rest and relax and that was the only thing he was going to be thinking about until he got there. Nothing else in the world existed but that goal.

It took a couple minutes but he eventually steadied himself. Full blown panic attacked averted – for the moment at least – he took one last deep breath before looking up again. Benrey stood before him, his expression unreadable as the watched Gordon. “You for real? It ain’t gonna grow back?”

Gordon was tempted to resume walking and hopefully leave him behind but… “You seriously thought it would?”

“Yep. But… I guess that explains why it’s been taking so long, huh? Humans are even weaker than I thought. Oops.” There was an emotion in his voice that his natural monotone made hard to place. “Guess you’re just gonna have to be Gordon Gunhandman now, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Don’t think about it too much! Gordon pushed off the building and resumed walking towards hopefully the hotel. He could be angry at Benrey for thinking the whole thing was just a prank, causing nothing but mild inconvenience, later when he had more energy. The sun was starting to dip towards the horizon, the sky darkening. In another couple hours it would set and the cold would creep in. Hopefully he’d be clean and in a real bed by then. While they were still walking though and to change the subject… “Do you give them your… juice,” gosh, he couldn’t believe they were still calling it that, “willingly? Like do they pay you?”

Benrey was quiet for a few seconds before replying. “They let me go wherever I want in the facility ‘long as as I cooperate.” Implying they’d otherwise force him to and then keep him locked up in whatever kind of cage they’d invented that could hold him. So no, he didn’t do it willingly, he just didn’t want to say that right now. And honestly, Gordon couldn’t blame him. Who would want to admit that kind of thing to their enemy?

Silence settled between them after that. Gordon still had questions but was too tired to try to find a way to ask them that might actually get him some sort of answer from Benrey. And perhaps, maybe, just maybe, Benrey was finally feeling guilty enough about the hand thing to make him uncomfortable enough to want to stop talking for once. That sure would be nice. Either way they didn’t exchange another word until Benrey pointed out the hotel up ahead. Thank all that was still good in the world, he hadn’t been lying about the direction.

It was old and visibly rundown on the outside. The inside though looked more modern and even if the carpeted floor looked like it could do with a deep clean, it wasn’t bad. In all it was all exactly what one should expect from cheap hotel in a small town in the middle of nowhere. To Gordon though, it might as well be the gates of heaven.

He beelined for the receptionist’s desk, before he got there though…

“Hello Gordon!”

He stopped, turning to see Dr. Coomer, Bubby, and Tommy, seemingly waiting for him as they stood from the plush chairs set off to the side.

“What took you so long?” Bubby said before turning his glare onto Benrey. “And aren’t supposed to be dead.”

“He doesn’t stay dead, remember?” Gordon interrupted before Benrey could reply and probably start something. “It’s annoying but there’s nothing we can do about it so try not let it bother you and maybe eventually he’ll get bored and go away. But why are you guys here?”

It was Tommy who answered. “Because Mr. Freeman, Black Mesa, isn’t exactly a cozy place to live anymore right now so um… we came here, looking for rooms. We wanted to invite you too but um… you ran off so fast we didn’t even know which direction you went in. But uh… it makes sense you’d come here, right? ‘Cause it’s uh… the only hotel in town. So we were waiting for you.”

“We weren’t sure if you had money to pay for your own room,” Dr. Coomer added. “So we discussed it and decided we would wait for you here to ask if you need the financial assistance. So Gordon, do you have need for us to pay for a room for you? We haven’t paid for our own rooms yet because we thought you might want to be our neighbor after all we’ve been through together.”

Gordon wouldn’t have thought they’d take the time to think he might need help affording a place to sleep for the night. They’d even sat here and waited for him after he’d rushed off and left them behind at Chuck E. Cheese. People going so far out of their way for him wasn’t something he’d ever experienced before. It was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“They waited,” Bubby cut in before Gordon could do more than take a deep breath to hold back the tears, “I wanted to hurry up and get a move on.”

“He was about to get up and go looking for you,” Tommy said in an almost whisper that Bubby had to have heard though he seemed to be set on pretending he hadn’t.

“Thanks. I…I appreciate it a lot, like… yeah. But um… I should still have my wallet on me and its got my debit card in it so I should be fine. It’s uh… under the suit though. Which, I’m probably gonna need help taking off since there’s not a thingy to take it off anywhere here for obvious reasons. So uh, actually…”

“I’ll pay for your room tonight,” Tommy cut in as he trailed off.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” A big one because gosh, Gordon would just about kill for a real bed right now.

“What ‘bout me?” Benrey of course hadn’t left. “Do I get a room too?”

“Of course, I’ll pay for a room for you too.” Tommy didn’t sound at all bothered by Benrey’s presence. Not too surprising, they’d seemed to have been friends before the resonance cascade. Apparently things hadn’t changed too much.

“Well, let’s hop to it.” Dr. Coomer didn’t seem bothered either as he started for the receptionist’s desk. “Daylight’s wasting, as they say.”

Welp, seems Gordon’s time with the Science Team wasn’t done yet. He… didn’t mind though. Despite everything, he had grown fond of them and they’d been through a lot together. And they were willing to wait for him and help him out and willing to talk to the receptionist to sort out the room situation, meaning he didn’t have to. What more could he possibly ask for in friends?

“We’re currently in the middle of a big renovation project,” the receptionist was saying as Gordon, trailing along at the back of the group, caught up. “Between that and everyone here to attend the Cacti Enthusiasts Conference, there are currently only three rooms available. So, um, some of you are going to have share for at least tonight. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” Dr. Coomer was apparently in charge of the transaction. Maybe not the wisest but it was probably fine. He turned to look at Gordon. “Hello Gordon! It turns out, some of us are going to have to share a room.”

“That’s fine. I don’t care.” They’d all been sleeping in the same room since they’d met anyway. Sharing space for a little while longer wasn’t going to hurt any of them. Just as long as Gordon didn’t end up rooming with Benrey anyway.

“Dibs on bunking with Feetman.” It was almost as if Benrey had just read that thought and decided to ruin the mostly good vibes Gordon had just been feeling because of it. “Gotta make sure he don’t steal nothing.”

Gordon lifted his gun arm, pointing it at Benrey’s face. He held it there for a grand total of two seconds before lowering it though. “Fine. I don’t care.” Getting upset was what Benrey wanted from him and he wasn’t giving him that. Never again. … And besides, revealing he had a gun for an arm and Benrey was some kind of something that wasn’t human would call attention to them from the authorities. Bad in general but after how many US soldiers they’d killed, lying super low for probably the rest of their lives was wise. So he wasn’t going to cause a scene. Even if that meant putting up with god damn Benrey. If Benrey killed him in his sleep then so be it, he barely cared anymore as long as he got to sleep properly in a real bed for several hours beforehand.

~

After some discussion it was decided Dr. Coomer and Bubby would share a room too and Tommy would get one to himself because he was paying for two of them and, “Sunkist will want to share with me when she catches up.” They weren’t neighbors but they did luck into all being in the same hallway even if one of them was way at the end of it while the others two were closer to the opposite side.

They all gathered in the far room first, ostensibly to help Gordon take the HEV suit off. The only one really helping though was Tommy, though Bubby did talk through what he knew of the suit’s built in fail-safes should it need to be taken off manually which helped a lot. Dr. Coomer offered to take it off for three Play Coinstm but not wanting to go into debt in a currency he had no idea the rules of, Gordon had declined.

Partway through the process he regretted declining that offer. The suit was designed to be taken off by a machine, the means to take it off manually had been an afterthought. A just in case the world ended and thus said machine had no power and/or had been destroyed. Not exactly something anyone thought was likely to happen given Black Mesa largely being underground, making it suitable as an impromptu bomb shelter, complete with a host of backup generators not connected to the main power grid. His strong hand being replaced with a gun made it even more difficult, resulting in Tommy doing most of the work of taking it off. Making it a mortifying ordeal; he needed help getting undressed like some kind of giant toddler.

But finally after way too long, the suit was off and in a pile on the floor next to him. He suddenly felt much lighter and less sturdy, like a slight breeze could blow him over. His clothes were a rumbled, horrid, sweat stained mess but he was free at long, long last. “Thanks Tommy, I owe you big time.”

“Don’t… don’t worry about it Mr. Freeman. But, um, maybe you should take a shower before going to bed. Not that um… just, you know… a thought.”

“You stink,” Bubby said.

“I’m afraid he’s right, Gordon,” Coomer said, putting a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, “you smell like you’ve bathed in the concentrated stench of all the locker rooms in the world combined.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Gordon could tell them that they all stank too because they did but sans the suit, he did smell substantially worse. Other than the part at the waist that could be moved aside to allow the wearer to use the toilet, his body had been encased in metal for days with no break. During which he’d been running around and getting his literal hand cut off and having the single most stressful experience of his life, resulting in quite a lot of sweat that had had nowhere to go. So he did indeed reek to high heaven and as hard the bed had called to him earlier, it was now nothing compared to his need for a shower.

“I’ll uh, go do that now. Thanks again Tommy for paying for the room tonight and uh, helping get the armor off. We’ll talk more tomorrow morning, I guess. Goodnight.” With a chorus of good night from the three of them, Gordon stepped into the bathroom.

Hot showers were always nice but this one was downright magical. Even the hotel’s cheap soap and shampoo felt luxurious and smelled divine. It was awkward using his left hand but he was getting used it to and thus fairly quickly got some sort of a hang on it. He could adapt, he could make it through this. The nightmare was over, he’d survived it, everything was going to be okay now.

He washed himself multiple times, trying to get rid of every bit of dirt and grim that had stuck to his skin. Rinsing and repeating until he felt rubbed raw, then he just stood there under the hot water. It would’ve been easy to stay like that for hours and hours if not for the way the hot water easing his sore muscles also reminded him of his exhaustion. If it were the kind of shower that doubled as a tub, he’d likely have just lain down in it and gone to sleep. So it was probably for the best that it was just a stand up shower as that would’ve been dangerous and awful once the water ran cold.

Instead, with a longing sigh, he turned the water off and stepped out. The provided towels were scratchy but clean so he barely cared. Once he was about as dry as he cared to bother making himself, he took one look at his discarded clothing before putting on one of the hotel’s bathrobes instead. It was also stiff and scratchy but it was be better than going nude because he’d rather burn his old clothes than put them back on. Tomorrow he’d coordinate with the others to get them all clean clothing.

Upon stepping out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth with just his finger – the hotel had toothpaste but no toothbrushes so that was another thing he needed – he took two steps towards the bed before stopping. Somehow he’d forgotten Benrey had called dibs on bunking with him.

“You steal that?” He asked as he looked up from where he sat on one of the room’s two chair’s next to the room’s one bed. It was a big bed but still… oh no. Maybe, hopefully, he didn’t need to sleep though.

“No, it comes with the room. You can and should go take a shower now too.” Gordon gestured towards it.

Benrey lowered the remote he’d been presumably flipping through channels with based off the fact that the TV was and playing what looked to be a infomercial. “Huh? Why?”

To get him out of Gordon’s hair long enough for him to fall asleep but also…“’Cause you’re nasty.” Even if whatever he was didn’t sweat and thus body order wouldn’t be as much of an issue, he’d been through some pretty disgusting places in Black Mesa and thus needed cleansing regardless. “And don’t put those clothes back on either also because they’re nasty. There’s another couple bathrobes in there instead. We’ll get clean ones tomorrow sometime. And when you’re done, if you’re gonna kill me in my sleep, please do me a favor and at least wait until I’ve slept for like… five hours before you do it, okay?”

Benrey opened his mouth to respond but before he could get a single word out, Gordon snatched the remote from him, earning a, “Hey, rude,” instead of whatever he’d been going to say. He then turned off TV before flipping off the light and crawling into bed, keeping the remote with him to make it harder for Benrey to steal it back. Benrey said something else, his voice a protest, but as soon as Gordon’s head hit the pillow he was already starting to drift off, making his exact words indecipherable. He’d deal with Benrey tomorrow, right now he really, truly didn’t care anymore.

Chapter 2: But You Owe Me

[thewitchoftheweed]

Hello again! I wonder if you got my previous ask about the leg wrapper for Narinder I got from. I also hope you're alright.

Read your newest chapter and I must say, while you wrote the poisoning scene short and seemingly anticlimactic, it really sets up for the aftermath on how emotionally intense and chaotic it feels, really pounds in that Heket has fucked up BIG TIME. I am only a quarter spoiled by the fact that you planned to include her and the rest of the Bishops still in your future fics, but I still am nervous on their fates and how it will happen, until I remember that half people wrote in their fics that Narinder was either kicked out or walked out of the cult early on and made a life for himself outside it, and I wonder if that will be Heket's fate, along with Leshy, seeing that I have no idea how Narinder is gonna trust them anymore, let alone Hamal letting them anywhere near him. The dice is up to you!

On the other note, here are the first iteration of my first half of what I imagine your Narilamb shittens would be! Reminder that I will be adjusting details further down

Meet the Gray Sisters! Triplets so identical that they could swap places and you can't even tell, the only thing differentiating them when together is the color of their ribbons. I based them on the Greek mythology Gray Sisters, and their powers as well.

Triplet train! Left to right is youngest to oldest. The left one is Deino, middle is Enyo, right one the eldest, Pemphredo. Their nicknames are respectively Dei, En, and Pem. Grey wooled shittens with sheep body and hands and feline face and feet. I gave them white robes with a grey-brown wool lining, tied with a black skull at the collar. They wear those apron like undercover with warm grey color.

The triplets are color coded by the ribbons, corresponding to the Bishop siblings: purple for the eldest, like Shamura, the closest thing to cyan for the middle, like Kallamar, red for the youngest of the trio, like Narinder. Just like the Gray Sisters in mythology, the triplets share a single third Eyeball of Knowing, and the Teeth of the Beast. The Eye shows them events and grants godly knowledge and foresight, with the halo thing behind the head and black ichor bleeding, and the Teeth is the Godly strength that comes from divine lineage, seen with them overflowing with Fervour dripping out (I add the branch like ears from Narinder). They take turns using those abilities, so only one of the trio can use one of the abilities at the time. Once used, the Eye will seal itself and sink back in, leaving only smears of ichor in its place. The reverse of it opening is by appearing a slit wound that opens to an Eye.

The triplets as grown up versions of themselves! Identical triplets at birth, it is only when they've entered early teen did their subtle traits became more prominent. They've filled in roles befitting their namesakes:

Pemphredo "Pem", the Eldest. The Watcher, Warden, Guardian. "Pemph" means alarm or fright, "redo" is to see. Her senses are keener than her sisters, which allows her to catch disturbances in the surroundings slighter than the eye of a needle. She's quite sensitive to changes in the air, and is very perceptive with people and their moods, with the level-headedness to assess the dangers. She alerts the Lamb to dissension, spies, infighting, supply lines, statuses of the cult and followers, etc, keeps the rabble in line. Reliable and responsible since young. She's based on Shamura. Her staff can manifest an energy scythe blade and the charms hanging from it are Relics that can turn into demons, made and gifted from her younger sister. Favors the Eye most. Very silent despite being covered in bells.

Enyo "En", the Middle. The Warrior and Executioner. "Enyo" means horror. A battle junkie and weapon connoisseur, she collects weapons and is very knowledgeable in their use in every way. Her favourite main weapons are dual welding multi-bladed whip swords (based on Indian Urumi swords). The more difficult a weapon is to use, the more she delights in mastering and showing it off. Many fear facing her in the Fight Pit, as she loves to draw out her opponent's torment as a showmanship, especially for spies. She leads the missionary quests most of the time in an efficient and calm manner, in contrast to her usual cheery bloodlust. Based on Kallamar, and his antithesis also. When the need is there, she'll decisively take charge in the absence of Pem and/or her parents. She also deals in executions, both public and in private. Uses the Teeth of the Beast most.

Deino "Dei", the Youngest. The Witch, Curse-Maker, Medicine Woman. "Deino" means dread. Concocts a cure as well as a curse. Of all the shittens, she closely resembles Narinder the most, especially in regard of his experimental creativity and audacious boldness to try new things. She had an apprenticeship under Chemach for some time, and learned to make Relics from godly parts from her. Her body is hidden in layer after layer of clothes to hide parts of her bodies that were affected by her experiments, unintentionally and not. She is highly aware of how others are generally unnerved by her appearance and demeanour, and relishes in the fact. The only thing that keeps her barely in line is the disapproval of her parents and her siblings' nagging. She's not above using the creep factor to get what she wants from the followers.

All three of them strongly love and deeply respect each other and their parents, and as adults conduct themselves in a professional manner in front of the followers nost of tbe time. That said, the trio are not above teasing and ruffling each other's feathers, and give the parents a headache or two, mainly before their younger siblings arrive.

I hope you enjoy this! Will work on their designs more in the future, along with their younger siblings. Drink water and eat vegetables regularly.

These are great! I love the little triplet train of them as kittens; they're all so fluffy and cute.

It's really interesting to see your interpretations! Everything about them is neat: their names, the meaning behind them, their designs, their little resemblances to their other relatives. I love Pem's expression and finery; she definitely gives Oldest Sibling vibes. I'm especially amused by the idea of Enyo; I feel like she would both delight and terrify her Uncle Kallamar lol. I also find the idea of Deino apprenticing with Chemach to be super interesting! That's a fun twist on that lore.

Thanks for sharing these!

[amethystfairy1]

What I'm getting from the hermit-a-day-may s is that now there are a lot more characters in ttsbc mainly that we just have to wait to see more of

And they are all amazing as well so I can't wait

Btw what's next in the rotation for ttsbc?

(I really should start binging tt at some point cause rn I haven't and I found you through ttsbc but my finals are starting soon so I've decided I'll wait until they are finished, trying to be reasonable here, I should work)

I'm so glad you're enjoying all the new characters in TTSBC thanks to Hermit-a-Day May!

I will say, for a lot of these guys, they probably won't show up again in anything beyond minor roles in the background of our main storylines...y'know, probably. I make no promises, because my main promise to myself with both my AUs is that I'm gonna write what I feel like writing at any given time...that's why I've been able to continue writing both of them so frequently without feeling bored or burned out, I'm still just as thrilled and giddy and excited to work on my AUs as I was when I started them both!

Next for TTSBC? To be completely honest, I'm not sure 😆 I have a few multi-chapter stories in the works, one of which is done, another of which is nearly done, just gotta decide which one I wanna put out next.

I've mentioned in other places, but I'm planning to use the rest of May to work on TT while adding to TTSBC with the Hermit-a-Day fics! I'm just really in the mood to work on TT right this second for some reason, plus like 90% of the Hermit-a-Day fics take place in TTSBC, so it's not like that AU is getting neglected 😆 So once you escape finals then I think now would be a great time to start binging TT! Please read the tags as you do, I'm sure you've seen my rambling about how it's got some dark themes in it. I'm very proud of how it's coming out! I hope you enjoy it! 💖

[vacantgodling]

1, 3, 4, 8, 15 for the end of year ask game!! :3

hewwo thank you for the ask <3<3

1. what was your writing-highlight this year? what made it special and how will you reflect on it next year?

mentioned this in my writing in review for this year but finishing cage earlier this year really set me on a high note for the rest of the year. i really proved to myself that i can write 80k+ words in a single project; i can finish and fully flesh out a narrative, my dreams are achievable if i really put myself to it.

for a really long time i didn't think i could do it. there's a lot of reasons why i felt that way, but having people who kept up with every chapter, my partner and other friends like valen and multi listening to me rant ad nauseum about my ideas and thoughts, and giving myself permission to do something 'silly' turned out to be such a good decision. so i think next year i'm trying to take that energy into it. i'm writing for myself, my friends and my dick LMAO. but i'm also taking the strategies that i learned (ie: i need a long outline to finish something or i won't p much lol). so next year is really gonna be a planning year! i wanna have more outlines that i can go back and reread and become obsessed about sEUOSDJ

3. did you achieve everything you wanted to this year? if not, how will you go about it?

nah! but tbh i'm okay with it. getting distracted by other wips is just par for the course for me and my brain pfff so i'm not miffed that i got distracted by other things and paramour got put off to the side. i still think about paramour a LOT don't get me wrong; but khizzy and sjaak giving me brain rot is a welcome change.

i also could've never predicted i would get into conlanging--i barely knew what it was (outside of lotr really) but here i am a few months later with a whole baby language on my hands HAHA. i think i'm finally of the mindset that yeah writing is my life's purpose bc it would be meaningless without it, but its also a hobby and i wanna have fun with it <3

4. what is your favourite line you wrote this year?

this is so hard OSCJK thank god multiple people have asked this bc its definitely not just one. perusing through the things i wrote this year, i think one that stands out to me is from draft 3 of btaf (which is the actual Real Prose draft 1 attempt lol. its a whole tier system of me drawing this wip out) but its the first sentence kinda hits and i don't think i wanna change it cuz it sets the tone well:

The cruelest and craftiest of all the Devil’s handiwork—darkness—had descended upon and laid waste to the countryside.

something something, speaks of the savagery that is yet to be revealed later on, makes the wip super moody (the equivalent of the tried and true "dark and stormy night"), and alludes to the time period (cuz we're talking about the devil in deadass the first sentence PFF)

8. what are three things you're looking forward to next year?

i'm gonna be optimistic and say draft 2 (the elongated outline) of btaf will be done--i've been taking a break from it but multi's very sweet sweep of draft 1 has reinvigorated me with brain worms.

i also want to work more on he who smites the sun bc... khizzy beloved. and with that all of the wips from ph -> paramour i want to figure out how they're linked and their outlines etc

and then i think i'm just excited to just be more silly with what i write next year. i wanna get back into my art wips (tmc and broken clouds for instance) and write more smutty shenanigans with bruno and his mess. :D

15. time for shameless self-promotion! answer with a piece of writing you want others to see/read! (if you have nothing posted/published this year, any other year is fine too ^^)

this lore post about tcol which details MIZDARR and MUINENS's first meeting and how the harvest god KIBARUM was born. idk i really love the gods and mythos tcol has i should talk about it more. its not really writing writing but i want people to see it anyway :D

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I definitely want to back up that anon who thinks jimin is still in the kitchen! In truth I think all the boys are and will be for a long time. I see chapter two as the introduction of their solo careers meaning "hey we are gonna be bts but also be ourselves sometimes too" I think every solo moment we've seen is the beginning which I'm for one super excited about. Imagine a wave of brilliant solo work one year and then phenomenal group work the next. Chapter two is barely a year in and it's already a visual and musical feast. I think jimin loves quietly preparing so he can wow us when he feels the time is right and while I too get tense with the constant radio silence I know it's cause he'll blow my mind the second he wants too. I hope people who feel as if Jimin didn't get a chance to show his true might feel comforted in that he will never ever stop wanting to gag tf out of us. And I think the sentiment holds the same for bts.

***

Exactly this. Up until a few months ago I thought this was well understood, seeing as how BTS has operated till now, but clearly I was mistaken.

For posterity’s sake, to beat this dead horse one final time:

Would it be nice for each member’s release to not have any of the issues they’ve had? Of course. But it’s possible to inform the company of said issues, address what we can for issues due to various platform errors not due to the company, while not losing sight of the fact this is only 2023. We’re still only in 2023. As in, we’re literally just one year into Chapter 2, none of the guys are older than 30, and they keep saying they’re in this for the long haul. And this is the same group that has shown over a decade that their plans are most often and best executed in multi-year stints.

It’s bizarre to think a member’s solo career is over or even damaged at all in any real way because of one or more problems that happened during their first solo release. It betrays such a myopic, winner-take-all mentality that you have to be in a very specific headspace to fully buy into.

Jimin is clearly happy and working. He’s not blind and is seeing what is working for other members and what isn’t. They’re all checking out each other’s solo endeavours from time to time, cheering each other on and I’d say making notes on what they too could try, what works and what doesn’t.

If there’s one thing that’s become clear to me over the years, and even more so in Chapter 2, it’s that BTS is a team. A real team. I’ve seen a lot of k-pop groups over the years and there is no group today, present or past, that would reach the heights BTS has if any of the members sought to harm or sabotage or lord shit over the rest, with or without help from the company. None of the BTS members would put up with that shit. Their egos are too big, they’re so obviously their own people, very ambitious and so aware of it that I really wonder if people actually listen to these men when they talk. They know exactly what they’re worth, and they trust that all the other members know it too. If BigHit showed any real favouritism, BTS is the last group to allow that if it’s not something they themselves have already agreed to.

They all know what they’re doing. And if they don’t, then they’re the only people with the tools to figure it out. All the angst and anguish over this or that happening in fan spaces, has no real effect on these men sitting somewhere in Seoul planning out everything they’d like to do as solo artists and as part of BTS.

That’s my takeaway after watching them for as long as I have. I could be wrong, but I’ve not seen anything to suggest that yet. I’m not sure how long you’ve been in the fandom Anon, or what you think about other issues, but it’s nice to see you and the other Anon share this perspective. It’s a view that’s widely accepted in the fan spaces I’m in outside of Tumblr, but one that is sorely lacking in this space right now.

For no reason at all, one Jimin that I hope one day shows up in Chapter 2, 3, or 4:

Sidebar - A friend (who isn’t religious) was asking another friend recently about religion, because she’s now desperate enough to seek divine intervention for Jimin to find blonde hair dye, and to love it again.

We all know his best hair colour is black, but it’s just as true that a solid case has been made for him being a natural blonde.

*

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Okay, that’s it today from my gallery.

That colleague i mentioned the other day, the one that recently got into BTS and now biases Jimin, we’re meeting up this weekend with my other friend, the musician that watched the Grammys with me last year and fell in love with Jimin. That’s an example of two people still finding out about Jimin, falling in love with his music and him as a person, and starting to support him. None of the noise online actually has any real bearing on the impact of real life people still learning about Jimin through his solo music and through BTS, and becoming his fans maybe for life.

If anyone finds themselves feeling overwhelmed in fandom, please zoom out. Please take time away and get some perspective. Everything I’ve said is obvious, none of it is rocket science or gleaned from any special insight. The noise online can suck you in, to prevent that, please detach, go back to their recent and old interviews to hear what they each feel about Chapter 2 and their solo work, listen to all of what Jimin expressed during his promotions, the good and bad. You’d be left with fewer anxieties. At least, that’s the case for me.

Thanks for this, Anon.

[beckandthebois]

Day to Remember

I'm gonna be so real. I don't know how to write grief, but I tried so. This is another one of my late Whumptober posts. Tomorrow I'm planning on starting my multi chapter fic.

Also there are mentions of past character death.

Ao3

Character: It's Four, it's always Four

Day: 19, Flower Bouquet

The Chain was walking through Castle Town in Time’s Hyrule. It was always a boisterous place, with children running around and couples dancing. They were going to restock on supplies before heading out to find the group of black blooded monsters that some travelers had seen. 

Four was roughly content with himself. He had visited the blacksmith in town and furbished up the Four Sword, and some of Wild’s weapons. He’ll probably come back later to do the other boys weapons as well. They were all set to meet back at the central fountain by noon though. 

“I hope we can actually eat at a restaurant before leaving, no offense to Wild but I want something a little fancier than on the road pot cooking.” Legend said. 

“Like a grilled steak, or something cold like ice cream!” Warriors said, agreeing with Legend for once. 

Four was going to join in on their talk of food. Something that always got the Links to agree with each other. His eyes caught on a flower shop nearby. The brilliant colors and familiar flowers in one of the bouquets. It made him stop for a second, before he remembered something he couldn’t believe he had even forgotten in the first place. 

Suddenly, his whole mood shifted. Four’s shoulders slumped and his entire mind seemed to go distant, distracted, and guilty. The pink flowers were the same ones from so long ago. He sniffled, tears wanting to spill from his eyes. 

“Hey, Four, what’s got you so upset, the smith shop closed or somethin’?” Twilight said, smiling slightly. He seemed to notice Four’s shift in deminor faster than anybody else, and is trying to lighten his mood. 

“My Dad died ten years ago today,” Four spoke in a soft tone, like he was still at the funeral. Some tears finally fell through his eyelashes and rolled down his cheeks. “I can’t believe I forgot.” Twilight shifted to a softer look. 

“You didn’t forget,” Twilight says, matching Four’s tone. 

“Yes I did! I should have remembered days ago, if not at least when I woke up this morning.” Four says, and turns away from the flowers, he walks off, close to storming off but he can’t bring himself to put that much energy into it. He hears some of the others whispering behind him. 

Four finds himself gliding down one of the alley ways, few people here and there. There are footsteps behind him in sync with his, but he still won’t turn around, not till he ends up at a corner. Instead of turning he slides down on the ground leaning against the dirty stone wall. 

Twilight sits down next to him. Four has his legs spread out before him. Feeling defeated, him and Twilight sit in silence for a while. A couple of Four’s frustrated tears stream down his face. He wishes it was at least raining or something, but instead it was such a nice day out that even the dingey back alleyway was semi bright from sunshine. 

Four pulls his knees up to rest his forehead against them. 

“I didn’t know him for very long,” Four starts, “he died when I was five. He loved to travel. Apparently him and my mom were going to travel the world together.” Four smiled into his legs slightly, his grandfather had told him all kinds of stories about the two of them growing up. His smile faded as he kept talking. 

“She died when I was born though. So my father decided to become a delivery boy for my grandfather's forge. But he was murdered by bandits on the road. The bouquet in the flower shop looked like the ones at his funeral.” Four let silence envelope them again. 

“At least he died doing something he loved,” Twilight spoke softly, not trying to ruin the atmosphere they created. Four smiled again, picking his head up from his knees.

“Oh yeah, he always said the spirit of my mom was with him when he traveled, that the two of them would always be together, he really loved her.” Four paused for a minute. “He was devastated when she died, that’s why I’m closer to my grandpa, he raised me. My father was too caught up in grief for a long time. But whenever my dad was home from traveling, it was the best. From what I remember, he always made me smile and laugh.” Twilight couldn’t help but smile. Four didn’t talk about himself very often, so it was always nice to know more about their mysterious smithy. 

“If he was still alive, he’d probably be the one on this adventure with all of you.” Four said looking down at his feet, although his soft smile still remained. 

“What do you mean?” Twilight questioned. 

“Ever since my father was born he was supposed to present the sword at the 100th annual Picori Festival. The festival and the sword were what started my adventure. If he had delivered the sword he probably would have gone off to save Zelda too. And then to the rest of you I would just be his annoying kid he left at home.” Four’s smile widened as he thought of the scenario, his father being the hero. How would he interact with the other heroes, what would he think of them? He’d probably get along well with Wild and Hyrule. And of course the old man as well. 

“Well as fun as that sounds, I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.” Four turned to Twilight, the older smiling brightly at him. “You clearly love him very much Four, even if you only knew him for a short while. I think he’d be proud of you, so don’t get too upset about not remembering right away, I’m sure he’d be happy knowing you were happy.” 

Four already knows that naturally, but it’s still nice to hear. His father would have liked Twilight, he thinks. His dad would have fit in well with the chain, but maybe not as a hero. But as a hero’s dad. 

Twilight stands up. Brushing dirt and, whatever else is on the floor of a dirty alley corner, off his legs and butt. He turns to face Four smiling lightly down at the little smith. 

“Whenever you're ready you can come back to join us at the inn. Just know that you don’t have to stew in your grief alone.” He turns and walks down the alley the way they came from. 

Four already knows he’s not alone, he never was truly alone on any of his adventures, but he must say he likes the company he has now then when his company was himself.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Blossoms of Love (Chapter 12)

Overtime

Pairing: soap/Ghost

Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, hanahaki

Ao3 link || Chapter 1 || Chapter 11

"You're late." Laswell's voice sounded through the laptop speaker they were all currently crowded around.

They'd finished packing and made it to their original drop zone without much trouble. A second trip had been required in order to haul the rest of their salvaged supplies, which had taken them an extra couple of hours, but all in all they made good time. Setting up camp was easy enough as well. A central tent large enough to fit all five of them plus a table, three tents for sleeping, and finally they were able to set up communications to get in contact with Laswell.

"Yeah, we had some complications." Price informed.

"Mission status?"

"Still on, but we're gonna need a new exfil and some cash. We lost a lot of materials when we crashed."

"Copy that. I'll let you know when it's secured." Laswell confirmed. Price thanked her, and then they were confirming their current intel. The plan would be changing just a bit until they could restock what they'd lost. instead of hitting the location nearest to them, they would hike to the furthest location. It was set a just a bit away from civilization, and would be a covert operation. If they moved fast enough they could arrive by midday on the second day of hiking, then they'd have three days to observe guard rotations, gather what info they could get, and clean all traces of their presence. By the time they got back Laswell should have found them a new exfil and a way to get them their cash. "And one more thing, price. Eighteen hours ago Intel unencrypted information about a separate target near your region. Four hours ago it was decided that you would be taking the job, since you're in the area. Looks you're gonna be off base for a while longer."

"What's the word, Laswell?"

"A multi-national level terrorist, and human trafficking gang leader. No name, only a title. You might have heard of him, he started the arms war in Iraq." Price affirmed their knowledge on the subject. "They call him 'The Seller', Intel says he's flying out of turkey in thirty-eight days. You will have execute authority, but this is capture or kill and we want him alive." Price gave a noncommittal hum.

"We don't have the fire-power, armor, or rations for that. And barely any time, Kate, these things take time. And that's not even to mention that we have no jurisdiction there, we could be starting a war if we're found out."

"I know, John, but you have no say here, it's an assignment from General Durski." A low, frustrated growl came from Price, but he kept quiet, so Laswell continued. "Nik has said he has connections in Turkey, if I remember correctly." she directed the last part to wards the man.

"Yes, ma'am, to my knowledge they are all still intact."

Good. Then, I'll work with Nik to set you up with a private contractor, while you're completing this mission. That should remove some of the red tape for you. Intel is still coming in, I'll let you know when I have more for you." Price didn't say anything for a long moment. "Captain, please confirm your understanding." Laswell demanded.

"How much will we be able to trust this P.C.?" The captain asked, obviously thinking of a similar situation involving a Private military contract, and Soap had to admit he wasn't keen on repeating that experience.

"I'll set it up and employ them myself, they'll answer to only me." Price's mustache twitched as he mulled it over, not that he really had a choice on this, it was either accept or be tried in court for whatever crimes they could slap on them. "Captain, I need an answer." Laswell demanded.

"Fine. What's the plan?" Price gritted out, very obviously not thrilled.

"Sources say he's just outside Simak, just north of the border. You will fly out in thirty-seven days, to meet and confer with the P.C."

"That's not a lot of time, Laswell."

"I know." she plowed on, "the projected plan is simple, you will meet with the P.C., and go over the floor plan. Quietly infiltrate the territory, grab 'The Snake', and bring him in for interrogation."

--------------

@checkerscharlie @halb-nichts @heyitsropi @trekkie-in-space @lavenderstem @toasterduck23

[novorehere]

Hey all! Just wanted to give everyone a bit of a content update.

I apologize for the lack of content for the past… year. I’ve been working through some stuff, and it’s been hard for me to find the motivation or inspiration to write. It comes in short bursts, meaning I’ve been (very) slowly chipping away at multiple projects at once. I just thought I’d update everyone on how things are going and make a list (partly for myself) of what I have in the works, what still needs to be done, and what you can expect from me in the future. Admittedly these are mostly obey me fics but I DO have other things tumbling about in my brain, I promise.

Opposite Day: 2/5 chapters finished, the rest 100% planned and around 30-40% written.

I’ve been sitting on an unfinished chapter 3 for almost a year now, and have written good portions of the other chapters in the meantime. This is the project I’m most excited to finish, and I feel bad for abandoning it for so long. Rest assured, I *am* still working on it, and am extremely happy it’s been so well received.

Untitled Simeon Comfort Fic: 75% finished.

Originally I wanted this written for his birthday (which was in February lmao) but as you can see that did not happen. I’ve got the beginning and end all written out, I sort of went off the script at the end with fun purgatory hall family fluff so the only thing I don’t have written is… actually the eating part. This will probably be the first fic I actually post, seeing as it’s the closest to completion.

“A series of Obey Me Vore Headcanons” Re-Write (Title Very WIP) 2.5/7 chapters re-written

This one I don’t think I’ve mentioned on here yet. I’ve grown increasingly unsatisfied with my original obey me headcanons list that I posted last year when I first got into the fandom. A. Because I hadn’t gotten very far into the story when I wrote it and didn’t get the full scope of the characters yet and B. (Most importantly) I feel like I really didn’t do the characters justice.

Since I originally posted it, there’s been a healthy amount of discussion on depth and nuance in vore media and reducing characters to tropes, etc. I’d like to re-write this series to focus less on physical aspects and “how they eat you” but rather more of an emotional and story driven story of why they eat you and their emotions and struggles that come with it. The obey me brothers are incredibly interesting characters, and I’d like to explore them in more depth and show you how interesting they can really be and why I love them so much.

This one might take a while to complete, but it’s gonna happen at some point. I‘ll keep up the original half-finished version in the meantime since I don’t want to delete it and ao3 doesn’t allow privating fics without orphaning them. I know it’s ugly in it’s current state, just know I’m working on it and the rest of those chapters will be overhauled eventually.

“Miss Em”: 80% written (kind of)

I’ve had this one sitting in my drafts for a while now. Originally I had plans to start another multi-chapter series but then Opposite Day sort of went to shit so I scrapped it knowing it was way too ambitious. But now I still have a mostly written Mammon fic in my notes app just sitting there and it would be a shame to just…leave it. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with this one, Maybe I’ll write the Beel companion piece to it that I had planned and just leave it as a 2-parter. Who knows. It’s really cute, and I want to share it at some point.

Untitled Obey Me mini-drabbles: 60% written

Honestly this wasn’t supposed to be a whole thing. I started randomly writing one day on a burst of inspiration and it turned into little mini “scenario slices” for all the characters and I really like how it turned out. I still need to write for two of the characters and polish up some others, but it’s a fun low-stress thing to work on in between projects. Also excited to share it possibly soon since they’re fairly short and shouldn’t take long to finish (but you know me…)

An unspecified ITWOM fanfic: 0% written, 50% planned

For those who aren’t familiar, “In the World of Monsters” is an amazing novel authored by @vore-toast that just recently received a fantastic ending and epilogue (Please read it! It’s fantastic!) And I really would like to write a little something for it to show my appreciation. I have an idea planned out, but details would involve spoilers so I can’t say much. I’d need to ask for guidance on what exactly to include since the things I would like to write about haven’t exactly *happened yet* but I’ve said too much already… hee hee. I don’t know when this fic is gonna happen, but I swear to you it will. And if my original idea doesn’t work out, it’ll be something. I WILL be writing for this series, mark my words.

Heroes Off-Duty. 0% written, ??% planned

Huh? That’s weird... That one’s not supposed to be there. Ah well, It’s not relevant anyway. Carry on.

[16magnolias]

Gonna pick a couple random numbers for the ask game- 22, 67

22. describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

Fun answer: Oh boy it’s a lot of squiggly arrows, a veritable Jeremy Bearimy if you will XD

Real answer:

I start with a lot of daydreaming.  All of my fics have stemmed from ‘what if…’ or ‘how?!’ questions.  The daydreaming takes up a significant portion of time.  In the shower, laying awake in bed, staring out the window doing dishes, etc.

At some point the daydream will start to solidify into a few solid lines/descriptions and develop a clear end and beginning.  This is usually when I delude myself into thinking it’s going to be a one-shot.

I start writing down my favorite/most important bits.  Could be on the back of a grocery list or junk mail, or more likely hastily typed into the notes app on my phone.

I continue daydreaming and noting the important bits until I have enough important bits to string together.

I sit down and write out all the important bits together on the computer and fill in the rest, spending a lot of time putting myself in the characters’ shoes and asking ‘What Would Character Do’ in this particular circumstance? And ‘Does This Sound Like Character’s Voice’?

I get stuck in a black hole of tweaking and editing and trying to connect this important bit with that important bit.  Sometimes this leads me to realize I need to add some more bits in to get there.  Plot ensues.  I’ve lost control of the narrative and it usually goes from a one shot to a multi-chapter story with side plots because I keep asking myself ‘what if’, ‘why’ and ‘how’.

I now have a clear end in sight. If this is going to be a multi-chapter fic, then by Jove - characters are going to develop, lessons are going to be learnt, and the ending is going to be happy ‘cause I’m in charge here and that’s how I like it!

Oh no. In order to develop character and learn lessons Hard Things happen. I must write emotional scenes and now I need music to help me get in the mood.

I fart around on Spotify and Youtube and find myself some mood music.

I write. Usually starting with the most emotional pivotal scenes, and then filling in the gaps to get us from point A to point B. 

Characters develop. Then they betray me by learning their lessons and developing too quickly and now I need to go back and undo something I did so my Big Climactic Moment will still be Big and Climactic and not redundant.

I take a pause and look at the big picture.  I tweak the writing so the big picture is consistent in terms of themes and pacing. 

I get distracted by life or tumblr or a really good book and then have to come back and reread everything I’ve written to remind myself of everything I’ve planned.

I edit and revise until I’m satisfied with both the chapter itself and its place in and what it contributes to the overall story. 

I post the chapter and repeat the above steps until the story is finished!

67. when have you felt the least confident?

Probably seventh grade gym class 

For real though, with my writing it’s usually when I’m tackling a heavy subject and I want to be respectful and real and do it justice.  Runner up is the opposite side of the spectrum - humor - because humor can be a very subjective thing and a punch line landing totally wrong makes me deflate like a discount bounce house after an elementary school field day. 

Thanks for the asks! :)

[theredcapeofk]

20 Questions

Thank you @silv3reyedstranger  for tagging me! Sorry for the delay, I needed to finish my Halloween fic first

How many works do you have on AO3?

22 with 4 still ongoing. This also includes 9 artworks (aside from the 6 in my illustrated fic)

2. What’s you total AO3 count?

177,544 words. Wow! I didn’t expect this much. Cool 🙂

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Supercorp

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

My Eyes are up Here

Change my Direction

Gifts (My first posted Supergirl fic <3 )

It’s a Super Life

The Five Senses of Affection (I plan to update this one soon ;) )

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Always. Sometimes it’s hard to not spoil the rest of the fic when I answer questions, but I love it when you guys ask questions. I respond to comments because I like to exchange thoughts with people who comment, or simply thank people who took the time to write something.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

@silv3reyedstranger I don’t like to copy but your answer is exactly what I think, so I’m mostly gonna keep what you said.

I'm really not the biggest fan of angsty endings (because it makes me sad), so I don't write them. I'd much prefer piling on the angst throughout and giving them a happy ending. There's too much sadness and grief in the world already, I feel like everyone should get a happy ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don’t know, they all end well, but since I need to choose one I'd say Don’t Leave Me because of what happens in the fic

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did, on Change my Direction a few chapters ago (which is basically a year and a half ago.). People(who had never commented before on this fic) had a lot to say about how I handled a specific chapter.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes I do (I think most of my stuff is rated E on Ao3 lol). I’d say mostly fluff. And…what would you call Kara and Lena have been longing for each other for years and finally decide to…? 

I wrote more kinky stuff I haven’t posted yet. There’s angry sex in a fic I’m working on

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I did. Harry Potter and Charmed, City Hunter and Cat’s eyes (1980s and early 1990s mangas by the same author). I used to draw crossovers a lot which was a lot easier than trying to figure out how some characters could meet. I don’t think any of my written crossovers were too far-fetched, but my art on the other hand…I had the Golden trio from Harry Potter meet Naruto characters, and Outfit exchanges(with Naruto and other mangas) a few times in my art.

“Recently” I had Kate Kane and her step-sister visit Kara and Lena in Suddenly I’m in too deep. And I will write crossovers again with other characters from the Arrowverse

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

No one’s ever asked, so not that I know of. I’ve tried translating my own fics once upon a time, but what a hassle lol. Although that was back when I was writing in French so translating to English was harder (and my English was not what it is today), maybe it would be easier to translate my current fics in French, but I don’t really see the point lol

13. have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes 2 with @lenaralanvers. One is Let’s let go of our Broken Hearts (she did the actual writing but we took decisions together) and the second we haven’t posted yet.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

My OTP? I don’t know. I’ve loved all my ships with passion, still do. I think RonMione, Linzin, Korrasami and of course Supercorp will always hold a very special place in my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I hope I’ll be able to finish all of my Supercorp ones in any shape or form. Sometimes I just write down a short idea and it turns into a multi chapter fic. Or sometimes I write something I think could be huge, but it turns out to be a few paragraphs and it’s just as finished as the fics I post online. 

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’m not good at knowing what I’m good at lol. I think I’m good with fluff scenes and how people react with their senses (sight, touch etc)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions. Which is all the more frustrating because I usually get a very precise picture in my head but I can rarely show it with words.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don’t write entire dialogues in another language, just a few foreign sentences or words here and there. I like to keep it organic for the reader and this method is easier when it comes to including translation

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. I was desperately waiting for Book 5, and after theorizing for a while about serious plot points, one day I sat down to write goofy interviews given by the Golden trio to the Daily Prophet. The funny thing is, fanfiction came naturally to me, and I’m not sure I even knew the name of what I was writing then.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh that’s a tough one, because favorites tend to change. I can list a few that I love in chronological order (each one of these marked a milestone of some kind in my writing journey): 

Il était une fois à Shinjuku (the City Hunter and Cat’s eye crossover), 

A post Book 1 Korrasami and Borra fic (that I never posted anywhere so I never bothered to properly name it XD), 

My eyes are up Here 

The Five Senses of Affection 

and Don’t Leave me

tagging a couple of people if ya’ll wanna take part! @spaceman-earthgirl @lenaralanvers @chaotic-super @inkedroplets @guessimreallyhere

[practically-an-x-man]

1 (Desert Song), 2, 3, 8, 11, 14, 23, 29 for the fic asks :)

Thank you so much!!! I'll try to make my answers somewhat brief since it's late and I need to get to bed

1. Share a song that makes you think of [Desert Song]

I mean, the title IS a song (a very heartbreaking bonus release by MCR), and I do have a whole list of songs compiled for use in future chapters so I kinda want to save those for when they appear in the fic itself, but there's one song that reminds me of them but doesn't really fit the rest of the punk theme

Pruning Shears by the Amazing Devil

It's a wonderful song and tells the story of a future couple meeting at a party, the interactions between the two of them already remind me a bit of Billy and Quinn's dynamic, but there's one stanza that really strikes me (and would've been the choice lyrics for the fic chapter, if the song fit the theme)

And I'll watch her ruin her life and dye her hair bright colors Become someone's wife Forget the girl that she once was

It just strikes me as very very *Quinn*, and I'd love to include the song if it fit with the tone of the overall fic. I mean, I'm a punk and I love the Amazing Devil, but it's not exactly punk music itself

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

All the time! I write the stories I want to see, and I love rereading them from time to time

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Ugh, that's so tough because they all serve different purposes. Like, Smoke and Mirrors I love for its character development, Bolts and Blasters I love for its slowburn, A Love Once New is my self-indulgent rainy-day fic, Desert Song I love for its complex relationships and intra/interpersonal themes, the list goes on. I love them each in their own way, and I genuinely can't pick a favorite.

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

Uh.... a lot. But most recently I've been working on new chapters for Taking Flight (still hyperfixated lol) and Heartstrings, with A Love Once New waiting in the wings (pun intended lol)

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

Not really, I tend to get distracted if I write to music. I do have a playlist for my Sandman character Prometheus here, and my fics kinda end up being playlists themselves since I incorporate so much music into them, but I don't generally create a lot of playlists.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

I'm actually gonna go with Desert Song. I tried/am actively trying to emulate the fast-paced action style of 6 Underground, and given the movie never got a sequel I'd pick this one to fill that void. The same goes for my other 6 Underground fic, Nom de Guerre - Desert Song is the better-written fic by far, but I think Nom De Guerre might have more visual elements that would adapt well to film.

23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)?

I tend to lay out a brief outline for my chapters so I know where to go, but I kinda just go off of general feel for the length itself. The only limitations I place on myself are that it must be over 2k words (which is easy to achieve now) and it must end in a good narrative way (since idk when I would next be able to update and I don't want to leave people unsatisfied).

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Sure thing! Here's a snippet from a Wednesday fic that I scrapped after the controversy with Percy Hynes White. I still like the idea (in fact, I'm hybridizing the OC into a future fic with Michael Langdon instead), but I don't want to engage with any of the controversy regardless of its legal outcome.

“Calypso, that’s Greek, right?” Her Mona Lisa smile widened into something genuine, a blend of pure happiness and mild surprise. The distance in her expression vanished almost instantly. She wasn’t great at hiding her emotions. Everything showed on her face, as candidly as if it were written across her forehead. He found it endearing. “Right.” she agreed, “Greek mythology. She was the daughter of Atlas, the titan, and she was imprisoned on a hidden island that adventurers could only find once.” Then, as if it burst out of her in a flash of inspiration, “But I think I’m more like Hephaestus.” “Why’s that?” “He was the outcast of the gods. Cast aside because he was ugly. And he worked the forges.” She stared down at her own hands, and he remembered the illustrated gleam of the knife in his painting. “I work in the forges. Sort of.” Another of his questions answered, then. But that wasn’t what he was focused on. And he had a habit of speaking before his brain caught up. “You think you’re ugly?” Her gray eyes flashed back up to his own, emotion flitting across her face in an uncertain wave. She still couldn’t hide it, but that didn’t mean Xavier could read it. He wasn’t sure what to think, other than that she was clearly very, very lonely. And maybe didn’t even realize it. “I think I’m an outcast.” she finally answered, very carefully.  Maybe she did realize it, after all.

thank you so much for asking!! these were fun!!

Fanfic Writer Asks

[psalacanthea]

funnily enough, this file turned out to be the remnants of a multi-chapter fic. It was my speed-writing exercise, so I lost a lot of it due to writing it directly into tumblr posts.

The fic conceit was Inquisition, but Solas was a dragon (long story involving someone trying to get me to write dragon porn) and the Inquisitor is literally the worst person who ever lived. Her name was Effie, short for Fuck Everything Lavellan.

Sadly the file did not contain the episode involving the acquisition of Cecil, the Bearquisitor (she did not like the amulet of the packmaster, so they had to stay in the Hinterlands until they found the amulet of the bearmaster), which was my favorite. Alas.

But here is her being forced at swordpoint to go get something she accidentally left in the Fade, ft. her abusive relationship with the Nightmare demon (she's the abusive one).

...

Effie's dreams were cold and cruel and full of screaming, cries of agony that could not be escaped from. They pierced the leaden, twisted skies, echoing until the demonic hordes themselves cried out, adding to the cacophony of misery.

You know, like dogs. Barking. You know how like, you're trying to sleep, and one dog starts barking, and then another one starts barking, and before you know it, it sounds like a Ferelden orgy and you're thinking about making mabari pot pie.

Anyways, dreams. Screaming. There was a lot of screaming, and her dreams sucked.

They had been shitty for some time without reprieve, no matter how many times Nightmare asked her to stop shrieking incoherently and talk to him. It did not make for restful nights. Even with her mum here, Effie's temper had been severely strained, which had come to people's attention when she'd nearly strangled to death the man who brought her her lunch.

In her defense, he'd been breathing really loudly.

She knew Cassandra had gone to the dragon, because they were pals or something, which was the only bloody reason he'd agreed to help her again. Which he wouldn't stop reminding her of. Over. And over.

And over.

"I get it, you hate me!" She informed the fade, which shifted restlessly around, agitated. It was Haven again, but it wasn't, and she didn't care enough to analyze it. "Okay? Gotten. I've gotten it."

She could go deeper into the quagmire of Solas being completely into her, you know, sexually, but she really wanted an actual night's sleep. This time maybe she'd antagonize him just enough instead of going all the way.

Silence reigned, and the fade calmed, idly shifting with the beat of her pulse. She wasn't quite sure why she couldn't see him, but like before, didn't care enough to hunt him down.

"Your mother attempted to measure me for a sweater today."

"Hah! Yeah. You're a challenge." She declared lazily, staring at the shifting ceiling above, trying to trace the patterns as they moved. "You might say it's impossible, but that'll only make her try harder. My mom's awesome."

"I would hardly underestimate her, considering the child she raised," Solas replied smoothly, and then quickly added, before she could think he was complimenting her: "I still cannot comprehend how you became the thing that you are. You would think that your clan would hold some clues to what could possibly have made you into what you are, but no. They are remarkably ordinary."

"I'm gonna assume you mean, how did I get so fucking awesome, and let me tell you, it wasn't fucking easy." She replied lazily, eyes slitting closed again. Closing her eyes in a dream never stopped being hilarious. "Being awesome...being awesome, Solas, is a journey, not a destination."

"How profound," he replied dryly, voice flat and hollow. "Thank you for sharing your wisdom with me."

"No problem," she replied, and then grinned. "Look at us, all getting along. This is great. Really great. Wanna make out?"

"...No." The word was snapped, and she snickered quietly until he spoke again. "I hesitate to ask, but...how do you plan to even do so?"

"Solas..." she began, in her best lecturing tone.

"Stop. Please forget I asked," he interrupted hurriedly.

"Solas...if you try really hard...you can make out with anything." She ignored his short, sharp sigh. "It's like fucking. With some ingenuity, and a can-do attitude, you can put body parts in other body parts. Or, sometimes you can put things in body parts that aren't even..."

"Be silent!"he demanded, and she burst into cackling, hoarse laughter. "We are leaving for Orlais tomorrow, I suggest you consider having had an actual night's sleep instead of chasing me off to leave you to the whims of the Nightmare."

"Euuuugh," she grumbled, nose wrinkling. "Why are you going to Orlais? Won't they kill you on sight?"

"I had not planned on entering any of the cities, I assure you."

"Yeah, no sh..." She abruptly yelped as everything snapped out of focus, leaving behind darkness.

And pain.

A lot of pain.

Tumbling out of the bed, she landed on the floor with a heavy thump, groaning. Head first, of course, with her legs still over the side of the bed, which meant she had a bloody lip and an aching skull. Great.

It's not like she hadn't taken a punch to the face before, but usually she was awake for them. Lifting a hand to her mouth, her eyes fluttered open blearily and she wiped blood away. Normally she'd be on high alert, but they hadn't followed her down to the floor. Making a point, not trying to kill her.

Finally she shifted her gaze upwards, squinting at the woman standing on her bed, hands on her hips, and a death glare on her face. Pretty, in an 'I'm going to kill you' sort of way.

Warden armor. Oh. Hah...

Uh oh.

"Where the hell is my husband, Inquisitor?" the Hero of Ferelden asked, ignoring the guards as they finally burst through the door below.

Husband? Oh, right. The crying one. ...Shit.

"Listen." She held up both hands defensively as Commander Fabulous and his merry men came thundering up the stairs, only to pause and gape. "Okay, listen? So maybe he's in a realm of unending torment in the fade, being held captive by an ancient fear demon that's sort of every nightmare made real, but it's cool. He's fine."

The Hero was turning red now. Also reaching for her sword. It'd be a bad idea to kill her, right? It was hard to remember, and Effie was getting really, really tired of having to stop herself from killing people when they threatened her life. Or just people in general, really.

"At least he's alive!" she pointed out, glancing sidelong. Of course Cullen wasn't going to interfere. Princess was terrified of girls. "Shit! Okay, okay, okay! We're going to some sloshy-named place where Orlesians are conveniently slaughtering each other. We'll pick him up on the way, fuck!"

"You had better," the Hero hissed, releasing the hilt of her sword and turning to jump off of her bed. The soldiers scattered like ninepins as she approached, which Effie could appreciate. "I'm going to see Leliana. Hurry up and get ready. We're leaving."

"Everybody's so fuckin' jumpy," Effie groused, wiping blood from her chin and then licking the corner of her mouth. "Shit. I wonder what's for breakfast."

"Don't you think you should be getting ready to leave instead of eating?" the Princess of Overdone Battlefield Hair suggested, in his usual fashion. By which she meant he acted as if he was waiting for her to jump up and tear out his throat with her teeth. "I will have the men ready the horses."

"Cullen, you stupid ass," the Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, leader of the armies of the faithful declared, "breakfast is the most important fucking meal of the day."

If she had come back here one more time, someone was going to die.

Not Effie, obviously. Probably just some random guy, whoever was in stabbing range at the time. She was murderous, not melodramatic. Big difference there. But someone would have to die, at least to prove her point.

What that point was?

Well, she could figure that out after the murders.

Generally directly after murder people were screaming and freaking out anyways, so that gave her a good chance to think of a plausible-sounding reason why she'd just stabbed the shit out of someone.

Sadly, stabbing a giant, ancient fear demon would probably just make him think she was flirting again.

"Okay, so...I'm just here for my stuff. We don't have to make this weird," she suggested, holding up both hands. It was hard to keep her voice calm with her knees practically knocking together, but she did her best. "Let's not make this weird."

I have made nothing...weird.

Once again, she had to give Nightmare props for the dramatic pauses, he really had them down. And the enunciation. If only the voice wasn't connected to all the rest of it.

"Okay, well..." she started again when it became clear he wasn't going to keep going. "Can I have my stuff?"

It was hard to focus with a sword between her shoulder blades, especially since if Cousland wanted to actually kill her, she'd have to aim slightly to the left. Inefficient threatening was really fucking annoying. Oh, she might sever the spine, but that wasn't a guaranteed death at all.

The silence continued, pointedly, the cavernous, eldritch surroundings swaying slightly as if seen underwater. It was sort of gross. She hated the Fade.

"The Fade is dumb," she mentioned offhandedly, because it was always fun to annoy the dragon.

Offended silence was her answer at first, and then a long-suffering, gusty sigh from Solas. She knew the gorgeous silence wouldn't last; he couldn't resist the opportunity. Predictable.

"I could not expect you to comprehend the myriad beauties and wonders of the Fade. It is wholly unsurprising that you..."

"I've killed dragons before," the Hero of Ferelden mentioned, hostility dripping from her words. "I killed the Witch of the Wilds, you know. She was a dragon. I killed a dragon they called Andraste. I've killed lots of dragons. I like killing dragons. One more will not bother me. Where is my husband?"

I do not understand why they are here.

"Because if I tried to come by myself I'd end up stabbed, and the dragon has a Fade-boner, I don't know. Can we please have the whiny Warden so we can get out of your way?" Effie pleaded, grimacing as the sword jabbed just a little harder.

I said that I wished to talk. I do not wish to talk while they are here. Your complete lack of respect for my needs is one of the most severe problems facing our...relationship.

The sword was right there. If she threw herself backwards and angled a little to the left, she might be able to get it through to her heart. It was a slim hope, but it was there. On the other hand, biting off her tongue and swallowing it might work, if she could bleed to death fast enough. If she started now, she might be able to get through it.

"You really need to stop listening to that pride demon. Why do you try to make everything about you? What about me? What about what I need? This isn't just about you!" Gag. This was only slightly better than death. Slightly. "Why are you being so selfish?"

I...I am not.

"No, of course not. Keeping me here by not letting me have my stuff back is sooo healthy. You're doing such a great job." The sarcasm was a little desperate, but she was starting to get tired of the sword jabbing her in the back. Time for the killing blow. "I've got to be honest? I really don't like the person you're becoming."

The silence stretched on, distant screams barely heard, the skittering of unseen insects quieting. At least the sword wasn't jabbing her quite so hard, but that was because they were all waiting, expectantly.

Finally there was an abrupt distortion in the air, and Alistair, bruised and battered but decidedly alive was deposited on the ground, wild-eyed and stunned. The sword left her back and Cousland shoved her out of the way, running to his side.

If they kissed she was gonna vomit.

I believe I require some time to think.

"Okay. I can respect that," she replied, as if she wasn't fucking jumping up and down for joy inside her head. "I'll leave you be, then."

Perhaps I need to focus on working on myself.

"Okay, yeah, sure." She backed up towards the dragon as Cousland grabbed the whiny warden by the arm and dragged him to his feet. "I think that's a good idea."

I have heard very good things about meditation, for clearing the mind. I could look into that.

"Yeah. So I'll just go...and let you get started on that. Good luck on the...betterment."

She really didn't want to hear any more. Well, she hadn't wanted to hear it from the start, but she was even more over it now, if that was possible. Nightmare didn't know when to fucking stop talking. Heading back for the rift that they'd entered through as quickly as possible, she ignored the dragon's sidelong look, fingers flexing into her palm.

"Not a fucking word." She muttered to Solas, who gave a draconic snort.

"I am simply surprised. I never thought I would feel sympathy for a fear demon." He replied, as she tore open the rift again, the Wardens immediately staggering through, Cousland's face set in grim lines. "Your powers of manipulation never fail to horrify me."

"Yeah, well...you have a big ass." She replied, watching it waddle away. "Stupid fucking dragon."

Following, she sealed the rift closed behind her, reappearing where they had left.

Ugh, the Dirth. The Dirth was full of shems. Granted, everywhere was full of shems these days, it seemed like, and they wouldn't let her murder them. She was surrounded by boring-ass shems and she was in charge and they still wouldn't let her do what she wanted. Rescuing people? Stopping wars? If she fucking kept this shit up, she was going to turn into some sort of jelly-spined loser.

Being the Inquisitor was becoming less and less fun by the day.

She'd have to shake things up a little.

Moving and organizing files from laptop to desktop and I found the Ancient Vault (the old deleted fics and whatever else I was working on at the time) to poke around this afternoon. What do you want to see? It'll be a surprise for both of us, because this is how I title things.

[bagelthatwrites]

Somewhere Sunrise (Begins Another Day)

Chapter 1: Unfortunate Mishaps

Summary: Reagan Ridley tries to be prepared for situations, but the job always manages to surprise her.

Especially when she's thrust into another universe, and stuck figuring out how to get back.

Fandoms: Undertale (2015), Inside Job (2021 Cartoon)

Notes: (thank you to my good friends @pastelkonpeito and @maddestmewmew for beta reading this chapter!! also another thank you to hen again for helping me improve the pacing !) Also this takes place briefly after part 2 of the show, and after the true pacifist ending of Undertale.

WARNINGS: blood mention, possibly death, also swearing

~~~

If you knew anything about Cognito’s head robotics scientist, it’s that she’s been on this job for over a decade.

The job came with many problems and risks, be it near death experiences, dealing with cover-ups and disappearing accidental witnesses, or nearly losing an appendage or two.

But out of everything Reagan Ridley’s done and been through, she didn’t think she would spend her last moments like this.

The machine had taken months to finish, endless all-nighters spent programming, and connecting wires, and checking and rechecking the blueprints to make it perfect. 

The companion watch took just a few weeks to properly sync to the shiny, new transporter… 

And it malfunctioned. And it took her with it.

~~~

It was a decently quiet night in the building, and the cool wind from outside somehow seeped its way through from the windows to the quite sizable space of Ridley Labs, though it never affected Reagan, as she was used to the drafty windows. Never got the damn things fixed.

Her best friend and co-team leader Brett Hand shivered, though, used to the rest of the building being room temperature. 

As Reagan installed the last few panels onto the transporter core, Brett took a minute to look around the lab again.

It was in its usual state, messy but somehow organized enough. Fitting for her, isn’t it?

“Alright, we’re almost ready.” She lifted the welding mask and switched off the propane torch, turning to him. “Brett, do you have the watch?” “Oh- yeah.” He handed her the device. “So… what does this do again?” “Were you even listening the first time?” She muttered, and waved her hand dismissively. “Well, the old teleporter was broken and out of date, so I took the liberty of building a new one. This one syncs to a watch- the one I’m holding here- to take the wearer to and from their destination. The machine serves to make sure that the watch works as intended, and to actually choose your destination.” She patted the machine, and put the wristwatch on, adjusting it.

“You’re here in case something happens to me.” She pointed to Brett, and walked back over, putting her hands on his shoulders. “...If I’m gonna be honest, you’re the only person in this place that I’d trust if anything happened to me.”

“Awww… Reags!” He smiled bright, pulling her into a tight hug. “Me too.”

“Put me down, you goober, or we won’t be able to start the experiment!” She laughed out and smacked at his arm.

He placed her back down and she turned to activate the machine and the watch. “Alright. I’ll start with a decent location… somewhere just outside of DC.” She pressed a few buttons on the machine.

“But… what if you can’t get back? You might have to walk for a while…” Brett commented. He widened his eyes. “OR! I could come and pick you up!” She snapped her fingers. “Exactly.” She presses a button on the watch.

“Alright.”

The transporter vrrrr’d to life, and its sounds echoed across the lab in a pleasant symphony of machinery.

“It’s working!!” Reagan couldn’t hide her excitement, her eyes lighting up as a smirk appeared on her face. “Brett, it’s working!”

Brett squealed in corresponding exhilaration as the watch lit up in unison.

The excitement of the pair was short-lived, as the wristwatch elicited short shocks.

“Shit.” Reagan struggled to get the watch off, as she felt the teleportation tech do its magic. “I can’t- shit, fuck, it’s stuck! I can’t get it-”

And she disappeared in a flash.

Brett’s phone buzzed, and the call was from…

…Reagan. He sighed in relief and clicked to accept the call, only to see a screen of white.

“Reagan????”

Reagan comes on screen, hair whipping in the wind (wind????????).

"Brett! Are y-ou getting this tr-ansmi-ssion!?" The audio and video were cutting out, but Brett nodded. 

"List-en to me! I d-on't know wh-er-e I am, but no m-atter WHAT, you have -to keep the m-achine running! I seem to- to h-ave gone to a- different area than intended-”

She pushed her hair out of her face and looked around, squinting in the foggy winter wonderland- if she remembered correctly… it was supposed to be… September.

Oh god.

“I-I.. I-’m th-ink in a di-ffere-nt uni-v-erse! And it's hailing b-" A piece of hail flew down and nailed the scientist right in the temple, causing her to fall over into the snow. 

"Reagan? REAGAN!?" Brett brought the screen closer. 

"Aw- SH-IT, I... there's sn-ow getting into the wa-tch a-nd I-" Reagan's eyes drooped slightly, and they both noticed blood dripping down her face from the deep cut, now very prominent on the side of her head. 

“Shit- Th-this is go-ing a lot w-or-se th-an I th-oug-ht it wo-uld! If I c-an get th-e wat-ch to-”

…She couldn’t…

Reagan felt herself getting weaker. There was blood dripping down into the snow now.

The situation was getting worse. The situation was unsolvable.

"...Brett... if I don't su-rvive this... I j- just want you to know that I'm sorry... for ev-eryth-ing. You w-ere a... a good fr-iend." Reagan felt herself getting more lightheaded, and the watch glitched and crackled as the weather worsened the condition. 

"Reagan, why are you apologizing..? Hey- no- listen, you'll come back, you'll be okay, I promise- REAGAN?" Brett teared up and clasped his hands worriedly. The transmission was almost lost. 

"...G-oodbye, Br-ett." The screen cut out as white overtook the transmission video, and the small screen finally displayed "SIGNAL LOST". 

"Reagan? REAGAN!" Brett called out, but no one answered. 

He felt his stomach twist.

…She…

…

He failed to keep himself stable on the edge of the desk, starting to slide down and sit on the floor.

His heart caught in his throat as he choked up, tears falling, the lab now dreadfully silent.

~~~

“Oh goodness…. Frisk! Get the first aid kit!”

[raainy-daze]

The Snatcher.

chapter one. ➼ [next.]

rise of the tmnt x gn!reader [PLATONIC], rise!leo x gn!reader

summary: someone keeps stealing everyone’s things. nothing they’ve stolen has any correlation, and it’s anyone’s guess why they’re doing it. as time goes on, the list of crimes grows longer. reader just hopes no one realizes it’s them.

a box of parts has gone missing from donatello’s lab, and needless to say, he’s furious about it. just one heist in, and it’s already quickly turning into everyone’s problem.

word count: 2,868

a/n: guess who’s back with his first multi-chapter fic y’all

i’m gonna have another post regarding my return from hiatus with more details on that and my writing plans around the same time i post this, so please do check that out if you care about this blog!

in regards to the fic: i like to call this one “in which the reader is full-on just kind of an asshole and steals everyone’s stuff for no reason”. so, if you just so happen to be a little shit, congrats! this one’s for you. reader is in a relationship with leo in this, but that’s not really the focus, and it isn’t really even explicitly mentioned in this chapter.

All was still.

It was well past dark in New York City. Of course, that didn’t mean much - it’s called the city that never sleeps for a reason. Above ground, traffic still raced on, people still yelled in the streets, the hubbub didn’t quit. But in some apartments, families closed their curtains, tucked their children into bed, and tried to ignore the clamor outside their windows.

Below ground was a slightly different story, however. Sounds were muffled by concrete, leaving the rush of cars and footsteps inaudible. Occasionally, you would hear the telltale rattle of the subway, but it was easy enough to ignore once you got used to it. Normally, in this strange home beneath the city, there would still be some sort of noise at this hour, but the Hamato family had retired a bit earlier than usual tonight. Splinter had even remembered to turn off the projector, which was rare enough to be notable. As far as the family was concerned, everyone was tucked into bed and sleeping soundly. Not a creature was stirring.

Except for one.

In contrast to the rest of the lair, the laboratory wasn’t totally quiet, nor was it totally dark. The machines which occupied the room produced soft whirring noises at all times, and had plenty of blinking lights to keep the room just barely illuminated. Most of it was a very dim light, but at the main desk with the most clutter, there was one brighter source. The computer was open to some Wikipedia page, and the light it produced fell softly on the face of a sleeping softshell turtle.

Normally, he would still be awake, working away on his various inventions. But this evening, he’d crashed far earlier than normal. Definitely unusual, but no one would be particularly surprised to hear about it. After all, he had gone without sleep for what? Three days now? It was only logical he would drop at some point, whether it be by his own will or nature taking over. He needed this sleep, everyone (except perhaps himself) would agree. It was a tad unfortunate, however, that he crashed when and where he did. For one thing, the desk littered with empty coffee cups and stray materials couldn’t be a very comfortable pillow, and far more importantly, he hadn’t had time to close anything down for the night. Some things were left running, and their batteries would likely be drained by morning. That was the least of his concerns, however. What he should, and likely would if he was conscious, be worried about was that nothing was locked. The door to the lab, the cabinets of valuable tools, nothing. His precious projects were left completely and utterly vulnerable, as he would find out when the morning came.

It was Friday evening, April 16th. The small clock in the bottom right corner of the computer read 11:24 PM.

That was when the Snatcher struck for the first time.

•°. *࿐

“I suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here today.”

It was Saturday morning, 8:42 AM. It wasn’t unusual for you to meet on a weekend, but it was a bit strange that it was so early in the morning. Saturdays are for sleeping in, after all, but that hadn’t been an option this morning, thanks to Donatello. You’d been woken up bright and early at 7:00 AM by your phone blowing up with notifications, demanding that you get to the lair as soon as possible because Donnie had a “code red emergency that he needs everyone to meet for ASAP”. A quick check with Leonardo, however, revealed that there wasn’t, in fact, a code red (something on fire, someone bleeding, or an alien invasion). According to him, Donnie had woken everyone up banging pots and pans at an absolutely ungodly hour, and was very passive aggressive all throughout breakfast. All of that, and he was refusing to explain why until everyone was present.

So, here you were, sitting in the main room of the lair at this mildly ridiculous hour of the morning with everyone. And when you said everyone, you meant everyone. Yourself, April, and the guys were the usual given, as well as Casey Jr. since he showed up. Cassandra was sitting over on the far right next to Sunita, and even Splinter had been dragged to this meeting, though he appeared to already be drifting off. Upon arrival, you had been informed that Draxum was also invited, but had refused. You supposed Donnie didn’t have the authority to argue there.

“Will you get to the point already?” Leo groaned next to you. “It’s been hours.” Raphael and Michelangelo looked equally annoyed and tired, and you couldn’t blame them, what with the stories you’d heard earlier. You considered regretting taking extra time for breakfast and prolonging their suffering, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to. It was some damn good breakfast, and they ought to be used to this stuff by now.

Standing in front of you all, Donnie sighed. “All right, all right, you guys have no respect for a good monologue.” He grabbed hold of the whiteboard he had rolled out of the lab earlier and dramatically spun it around. You squinted, trying to interpret the scribbles made in dry erase marker, but quickly gave up. He would undoubtedly explain it all to you regardless.

“Last night, sometime between 10:30 PM and 4:00 AM, someone broke into my lab!”

Everyone stared at him blankly.

“Donnie,” April said, “I was just in there. Nothing looked very broken into.”

“Yes, nothing LOOKED amiss, my dear April, but one very crucial detail!” He pointed towards one corner of his whiteboard, at what you now recognized as a diagram of the lab. He circled a drawing of what appeared to be a box he had very subtly labeled “GPS PARTS”. “This box” -he gestured again for extra emphasis- “contained–”

“Let me guess, GPS parts?”

“LET ME SPEAK!” Donnie took a deep breath and returned to his drawing. “Yes, it contained GPS parts, very important GPS parts I just bought to use on my brand new upgrades to the navigational system in the Turtle Tank, more specifically the parts needed for the antenna, but I know you all start yelling when I go on science tangents, so for your sakes, I won’t elaborate.”

“Thanks, it’s much appreciated.”

Donnie made an expression you quickly recognized as the “trying to blow Leo up with his mind” face.

“And what happened to the parts, Donnie?” April asked.

“Why, thank you for asking. Well, this morning when I awoke…” Donnie took an eraser, held it up, and suddenly began erasing the box far more violently than he really needed to. “IT WAS GONE!”

Donnie’s yell woke Splinter up with a start. “Wh-” Sunita leaned over and whispered a quick summary of the situation. “Oh, that is what you are so mad about? You lost your, uh, things?”

“They weren’t lost, Father, they were clearly stolen!” Donnie was becoming more frantic by the moment. “I checked and double checked their exact position several times last night, to be perfectly sure I wouldn’t loose them! And yet, this morning, they were gone! And they had to have been stolen by SOMEONE IN THIS ROOM! Or Draxum.”

He waved an accusatory finger at… well, everyone. “Everyone present in this room was present last night for our Jupiter Jim: Atomic Lass Dies Again 2 viewing, as you all know!”

This was a fact. Yesterday, everyone in your circle had been invited (or dragged, in Draxum’s case) to watch the new JJ movie the second it came out on DVD. It had been fun, but you doubted anyone there expected to be a suspect by the next morning. Well, except for the perpetrator, you supposed.

“Are you sure, Dee?” Casey Jr. actually looked pretty concerned. He always seemed to take these things a bit more seriously, probably because he wasn’t as used to it. “I mean, you really think someone in this room would steal from you?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child, multiple people in this room have stolen from me. In fact, most people in this room have stolen from me. Some more than others.” He gave a pointed glare in Leo and Cassandra’s directions.

“Do you have any proof?” Cassandra glared right back.

“Yes, Cassandra!” Donnie once more slapped the diagram. “The fact that it’s gone! The fact that there is an outline in the shape of a box entirely free of dust! The fact that whichever one of you who did it (probably Leo) is an–”

“Whoa, whoa, are you accusing me? Your own twin brother?” Leo put a hand on his chest, commencing with his usual theatrics. “Dude, I thought we had a bond!”

“Leonardo, this would be far from the first time you’ve stolen my stuff!” Donnie pointed at him in response. “My tools! My clothing! Anything in my lab you thought looked cool! Even Penelope Platypus!”

“Penelope Platypus?”

“Don’t ask. Never ask about Penelope Platypus,” Raph whispered.

“Understood.”

“Okay, okay-” April stood up from her spot and walked over to Donnie. “Everyone, let’s just-”

“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR PENELOPE PLATYPUS-”

“Donnie, let’s just calm down!” April grabbed Donnie’s arm and lowered it. “Do you not have any security cam footage?”

“No, April, I do not, because as I conveniently told you all yesterday, all my security measures are under maintenance!”

“Fingerprints?”

“Already checked. Whoever it was, they knew exactly what they were looking for and didn’t touch anything else. Believe me, I have been looking since 4. A. M.”

“Okay, what’s all the rest of this on your board?”

Donnie cleared his throat, but not before sending one last nasty glance his brother’s way. “Well, here I have a list of any possible motivation our thief could’ve had. Leonardo, mischief, Cassandra, mischief, Draxum, turning back into an evil supervillain stuff, Mikey, an insane level of dumb luck and obliviousness-”

“Okaaay.” April cut him off before he could go down the whole list, but you could just make out your own name below Mikey’s. Anything else written on the board, however, was pretty much lost to time thanks to Donnie’s illegible handwriting.

April picked up a dry erase marker from the bottom of the board, and began making amendments to Donnie’s notes. “Well, we know it couldn’t have been me or Sunita, since we left while you were still awake.” She crossed out both names. “Mikey also went to bed pretty early, but I guess he could’ve gotten up and come back downstairs.” She placed a question mark next to Mikey’s name. “If our thief did know what they were looking for, then who did you tell about these parts?”

“Well, I told you, of course.” April began making checkmarks as Donnie listed names. “I also told Casey Jr. when I was teaching him how refrigerators work.”

You decided not to ask.

“I mentioned it to Father, but I doubt he was listening, since he clearly doesn’t often.” He paused as he stared at Splinter, who took a full seven and a half seconds to space back into reality and notice.

“Oh, are we done? Wonderful, I’m missing the latest episode of-”

“No, Father, we are not done!”

“Also, we don’t get cable,” Raph pointed out.

“Alright, and that’s everyone?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Alright. So we’ve got ten total suspects, two with a solid alibi, three with inside knowledge, and…” April muttered to herself as she read over Donnie’s guessed motivations. How she managed to read those, you had no clue. “... two with a reasonable motive. Not a lot to go off of.”

“Well then, on to my planned second step; I will now be questioning each of you in order from oldest to youngest.” Uh oh. “Father?”

“Uh- yes, Purple?”

“WHERE WERE YOU THE NIGHT OF APRIL 16TH?”

“... I believe I was here. I also believe that was yesterday.”

You exchanged a look with Leo. This was going nowhere - Donnie was just going to yell a lot, and eventually Cassandra was going to start yelling back, and then everyone would be yelling, and it would just be really loud. You pulled out your phone as discreetly as you could, and began typing.

was it you?

be honest i swear i won’t tell anyone

no!!! i went straight to sleep after you left

i didn’t go anywhere near the lab

i assume you wouldn’t be asking if it was you

well duh

should we tell him raph slipped sleeping meds in his coffee

no, that’ll just make it worse

raph wouldn’t do it anyways, he’s too nice

point taken

so what are we supposed to do

watch it play out?

you read my mind

You looked up from your phone, back at Donnie, who had moved on from Splinter to Cassandra. This would be fun.

“WHY THE HELL WOULD I TAKE IT? I WOULDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!”

“YOU HAVE ONE OF THE TOP MOTIVES, CASSANDRA!”

“AND WHAT KIND OF MOTIVE IS THAT?!”

“TO SPITE ME!”

“TO SPITE– oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“SO YOU ADMIT IT!”

“I ADMIT TO NOTHING!”

“Oh my god, they’re going to kill each other.” You sincerely doubted you would see anything as entertaining as this for the rest of the week. It was pettiness at its finest, and you’d acquired quite a number of insults from watching fights this way. You knew it was only a matter of time until someone (Cassandra) threw the first punch, and then it was only a matter of time until someone (Donnie) threw the first explosive. But alas, it would be over too soon for that.

“April, you get Donnie.” Raph sighed as he stood up, and scooped Cassandra up remarkably easy. At the same time, April grabbed Donnie, preventing him from trying to hit Casey Sr.

“Look, Donnie, I can understand why you’re upset, but fighting isn’t really the best way to fix this.”

“But it is a way.”

“Maybe, but–”

“Don, I’ll help you find your parts.” April cut Raph off. She sounded pretty exasperated at this point. “Just stop screaming before everyone’s eardrums explode.”

“I was not screaming-”

“Yes you were. Now come on, I wanna see the crime scene for myself.” April began dragging Donnie off to his lab. Casey stuck her tongue out at him, and you just caught him flipping her off before disappearing into the lab.

Raph set Cassandra back down, and she muttered something that sounded a lot like a very targeted insult.

“Well, that was certainly… something,” Sunita commented.

“Something, indeed.” Mikey nodded.

“Okay.” Raph turned back to the group. “You know I trust all of you…”

“But you’re gonna accuse one of us of stealing some dumb science crap?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

“No! No.” Raph smiled sheepishly. “But, if it was any of you… Just, please give it back. He will not let this go, and I don’t know if our sanities will survive it.”

“Hey, hey, April’s on the case now!” Mikey chimed in. “I’m sure she’ll solve it in no time! She’ll catch our… our Snatcher!”

“Our what now?”

“The Snatcher! It’s what I just decided to title our resident thief.”

“We’re naming the thief?”

“Now, now, Casey Jr., every thief needs a good name.” Mikey patted Casey on the shoulder a couple of times, looking very proud of himself.

While everyone else was talking over the new name and what could’ve happened to Donnie’s stuff, you walked over to the whiteboard. You weren’t really interested in the lab diagram; you also weren’t sure what part of this required an entire corner of the board being dedicated to math equations.

You squinted at Donnie’s scrawled handwriting, trying to make out the notes at the bottom of the board. On the motives list, you found your name, which was just barely readable. It took you a few seconds to translate what was written next to it.

Scheming.

That didn’t sound too different from Leo and Cassandra’s “mischief”, but hey, it sounded better, so you weren’t going to complain. You’d have to ask Donnie what he meant by the difference next time you saw him.

You grabbed the marker and wrote down several notes regarding what had occurred last night. You had stayed in Leo’s room for a while before you left, so you could provide alibis for each other in that time frame. You hadn’t seen Cassandra on your way out, nor had you seen anyone else up. You wrote down the rough time you left, as could be verified by Leo, and wrote down that you had seen a light from under Mikey’s door.

Finally, you wrote “The Snatcher Case” at the top of the board, followed by “(y/n) was here :)” in the bottom corner.

You smiled to yourself before going to grab your things and get ready to leave. You were eager to watch this play out.

You couldn’t wait until you enacted phase two of your plan.

It was 9:57 AM, Saturday, April 17th. The Snatcher waltzed right out of the lair, and no one suspected a thing.

[spicysix]

long story short (part 3/3) | eddie munson x reader

this fic is part of a series: masterlist

summary: “Oh, is this a date I’m having with pantry girl?” He provoked, but you just nodded in response. “Can be if you want it to.” He actually looked shocked for a moment before bringing his charm back. “Does that mean I get to kiss you at the end of it?”

warnings: fem!reader - no physical description. no use of y/n. post s4 - canon divergence. heavy making-out, implied smut (not described).

word count: 2.3k

a/n: final part ot long story short! next up we're having 'tis the damn season. if you're familiar with miss Swift, you must imagine some angst is about to come 👀 it's gonna be another multi-chapter so if you wanna get everything as it comes out, don't forget to follow me and join my taglist 😉

day seven

12:48 p.m. The next few days after Eddie’s press conference/public audience had you going back and forth between Hawkins and Fort Wayne. The house your family was going to move to was not yet vacant, their previous owners still finishing up their own moving. But they allowed you to bring in some boxes to leave in their basement already, and Hopper had to empty the cabin for the Munsons anyway, so that’s what you were all mostly doing. With the destruction caused by the Mind Flayer last July, there wasn’t even much stuff salvageable to bring to Fort Wayne, but you were taking what you could carry.

You also took some time to visit Debrah, spend a day catching up with her. She did most of the talking, since her life wasn’t filled with trauma caused by interdimensional monsters (just some weird burning cracks in the middle of the town, but they were being taken care of already), and you were happy to listen to it. She was attending the local district Community College, not that far away from Hawkins, and wasn’t planning on moving any day now. Still a cheerleader, still planning on meeting the one there and living the american dream with him. You guessed she was just one of those people whose lives revolved around the minuscule city they were born and raised on. She wasn’t gonna leave that cycle. Well, if she was happy, great for her, you thought. A dose of normalcy was always good, to keep your feet grounded.

You only saw Eddie a few times those days, when you were leaving or coming to the hotel. Sometimes you also had lunch together - but it was never only the two of you. Part of you felt happy, because he was really hitting off with your family, the ones he hadn’t met yet, and seeing him and Will excitedly exchanging tips about D&D made your heart swell with fondness in a way you already knew would happen when you first met Eddie and told him about your little brother. He was also exchanging stories about getting high and exchanging tips about weed with Jonathan, but that was not nearly as adorable.

But it was your last day in Hawkins before you went back to California, Argyle’s Surfer Boy van cleaned and repaired for another three-day trip. You had a job back home that you were sure you’d lost already at this point, so you would have to find another one when you got there - to help with all the moving costs after your semester was over. You had no idea how Jon, Will and El would deal with their schools, but you had called some of your colleagues and asked them to talk to your teachers. You had good grades and no other classes missed since the beginning of college, so you were mostly sure none of them would care for your minor two-week absence.

Your biggest issue so far was that you already had a summer job hitched and your part of your next college tuition already paid (the other two thirds were thankfully covered by a scholarship) and wouldn’t be able to move back to Hawkins with the rest of your family on Summer. And you hadn’t told anyone that yet.

Well, that was a problem for future you.

You knocked on the door of room 107 as your family walked past you on the corridor, bidding you a ‘see you soon’. Jonathan throwing you a knowing smirk over his shoulder and you just flipped him the bird over yours.

Eddie opened the door, a faded Star Trek shirt and sweatpants hanging low from his hips. His hair all disheveled, looking like a cloud on a stormy day around his head. He smiled instantly at seeing you.

“Wanna grab lunch?” You invited.

02:09 p.m. First thing Eddie asked when you got to the diner was when the rest of your family would arrive. “They’re not coming, it’s just the two of us.” You answered.

“Oh, is this a date I’m having with pantry girl?” He provoked, but you just nodded in response.

“Can be if you want it to.”

He actually looked shocked for a moment before bringing his charm back. “Does that mean I get to kiss you at the end of it?”

“If you don’t eat something too garlicky, sure.” You winked and he laughed.

That was several minutes ago, and as you paid your half of the bill over the counter and Eddie rambled on about how Reefer Rick should hire a bugs exterminator to his lake house (how he got to that topic, honestly, you had no idea. But you liked hearing him ramble), you started to feel the butterflies in your stomach thinking if he was going to kiss you or not.

It was a long time due.

You walked back to the hotel, not that far away from the diner, in the slow pace you were already used to - for the sake of Eddie’s recovering injuries. His shoulder touched yours at every step, your pinkies intertwined at some point, and you felt like an eighth grader and her first crush.

You weren’t talking, just enjoying each other’s company. Your mind was dead set on that kiss he promised. You wondered if he was thinking about it too.

As you reached your hallway, his door was the closest and you really, really didn’t want this to be over. So you were bold enough to ask, “How ‘bout we watch something?”

You didn’t have much to pack, your ‘bag’ (if you could call it that, it was just a backpack) practically ready to go, and you were leaving first thing in the morning. You really wanted to enjoy those last few hours with him.

“Sure thing! Don’t tell anyone, but I love General Hospital. And I think it’s on now.” He used his key to open the door and bowed in a gesture to let you in the room first. “Wayne’s got some extra shifts so he won’t be back ‘till dawn, probably.”

You took off your cardigan and hung it on a coat rack beside the door, shoes on the floor under it. Next to the coat rack was the dresser, TV on top of it. There was only one bed, some of Eddie’s belongings scattered above it. And a couch on the side wall, with a pillow and a thin comforter folded up in the middle of it – surely Wayne’s.

As you walked to sit on the edge of the bed, you saw Eddie taking the same routine as you did before - taking off his jacket and shoes - but you also saw him discreetly locking the door. He walked to the bed, but stopped in front of you, knees touching, instead of sitting next to you.

“I don’t really wanna watch General Hospital.” Was all he said, a smirk growing in the corner of his mouth, and those butterflies were partying in your belly again.

“Oh, thank god.” You answered, as you carefully pulled him by the hem of his shirt.

He crouched above you as you crawled back on the bed, all slow movements. His hands were already on your face when you came to a stop, your back against the headboard as he kneeled in front of you.

You held your breath, ready to be interrupted one more time, as it always happened.

But nothing came.

Nothing except his soft lips on yours. Finally.

No more tug of war now. Finally.

Just you, and Eddie, and his skin on yours, and his breath hitting your nose, and the way his soft wavy mane tickled your face. Finally.

Your hands went up his torso, smoothly, and he quivered under your touch. You opened your legs to rest them on each side of his own, and one of his hands slowly made its way down to your neck while the other was still cradling your cheek. You felt the cold of his rings on your skin, giving you goosebumps, making you feel hot and bothered.

“God, I’ve missed this.” He murmured, lips still against yours, tickling a little bit.

“Yeah, me too.” You answered as you spread open mouthed kisses along his jaw. You felt his breath hitch.

“I’m not too garlicky, am I?”

You laughed and shook your head no. “You’re perfect.”

You pressed your mouth against his once more, lips parted this time, inviting him in and he went for it. His tongue brushed yours and you forgot completely about everything around you. Without separating your lips, you switched positions with him so he would be against the headboard as you straddled his hips. He let out a moan, and you saw yourself in reversed roles from when you first kissed five months ago.

Your hands were now traveling through each other’s whole bodies, melting under each other’s touch. His fingers tracing the hem of your skirt while yours felt the bumps of the scars on his neck. He didn’t seem to feel any pain from it, and as you lowered your head to kiss them, you felt his hands strongly grabbing your thighs.

“Holy shit,” he called your name, falling like a song from his lips. You licked all the way from his collarbone to his ears. “I- oh sweet baby Jesus, I really want you. I need you.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eddie.” You were truly afraid, but you were also unconsciously rubbing your hips against his, searching for friction.

“You could never.” His hands went under your skirt to your ass and he grasped it tightly. You sighed before stopping your movements and distancing yourself just enough to look him in the eyes.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then I’m yours.”

His chocolate button eyes fluttered as you reached his lips once again. There was no rush. You felt the time stop around you, for you, as his hands stroked your legs and you pressed your chest to his. Your fingers lost in his hair, his nails scraping your skin, and he feels like home.

06:35 p.m. You woke up slowly.

The soft light from the moon was the only thing keeping the room from falling into full darkness. His chest was pressed against your back, his skin hot, almost burning you, like your own personal heater. His arm was draped over your waist, his fingers laced to yours resting under your breast. You let out a contented sigh.

You completely lost track of time as he was making love to you. You weren’t in love - not yet, at least -, but what you did was far from casual sex. You felt connected. He worshiped you, you reverenced him. And as you were finally tired, satisfied, sweat covering your bodies, the sheets all disheveled and Eddie’s belongings on the floor beside your clothes, you felt safe and comforted enough to drift to a dreamless sleep.

You turned around to face him, and your movements slowly woke him up too. His brown eyes not so big now, narrowed from all the sleep, but caring nonetheless. He still looked at you as if you placed the sun in the sky.

He smiled and you smiled back, tracing the freckles on his nose with the tip of your fingers, feeling him drawing figures with his own fingers on your hips. You swore you could stay like this forever.

But his adoring eyes searched your face for something, for answers. You could read him too easily.

“Wanna know how this gonna go?” You asked for him. You saw his Adam’s apple rise and drop, and he just nodded in response. “We are going back to Cali tomorrow, me, Jon, Will and my mom. And Argyle, obviously. El’s gonna stay here with Hopper. I’m going to help my family with their belongings, and they’re coming back and moving to Fort Wayne in two weeks, probably.” You paused.

“And you?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I… have a summer job. And a paid tuition. So I won’t be able to move back with them just yet.” His eyes fled from yours for a second. “But I’ll visit constantly.” You tried to reassure. Reassure him, or yourself. You weren’t sure. “So, I’ll see you at the end of summer. And you can bother me some more then.”

He laughed, which calmed you down a bit. He didn’t ask anything else for a few more minutes, and you stood in silence as his caresses on your skin were still soothing you.

“I’ll be waiting.” He didn’t look at you as he said it, burying his face on your neck. You closed your eyes and squeezed him harder against you. “By the way, you didn’t jinx me, ‘ya know?” His voice was low and muffled, but you could still discern the words.

“What?” You pulled on his hair, not strongly enough to hurt, only so he would back up and face you again. He did.

“I… I’m not sure, maybe I invented it. I thought I heard you talking to me. You said you’d jinx me. I don’t think you did.”

You were shocked, but managed a response after a few seconds of silence. “You didn’t invent it. I did say that.”

“Really?” You nodded. “Oh, wow, the human mind really is a mystery.” He scoffed. “But, again, you didn’t jinx me. You got me through it, actually.”

You giggled before kissing him as your response. His hands were slowly going up and down your back, calloused tip of his fingers making you shiver. You buried your hands in his hair again. Everything was happening in slow motion, his lips covering yours, his tongue tracing yours, his hands stroking you, raising the hair on your skin. You kissed for what felt like hours before he let you go and those beautiful eyes of his met yours once more.

“Will you stay? Until you really gotta go?”

How could you say no?

So you didn’t.

“I’ll really stay this time. Until I have to go.”

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