#this thing got me searching up words and falling into rabbit holes of information i might never get to use anywhere every 5 minutes 💀

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Someone send me a Jamil, Riddle or Azul please I have this project and I'm struggling with all the fancy words used in this report😭😭

[oneshotnewbie]

I need more of Rabbit Hole please please please 🙏 🙏 🙏

Authors note: Your wish shall be my command. I hope you like the little twist, I don't know what came over me 😂

Olivia Benson stood in your empty hospital room and let her gaze wander around it. The silence was deafening as she tried to find any clue that could help her find you and bring you back to her. She knew she had no time to waste - you were in far too much danger, and it was her duty as a captain and your friend to save you.

With a determined look, Olivia began to systematically search the room. She opened drawers, checked closets, and inspected every inch of the room, looking for anything that might give her clues to your whereabouts. But the more she searched, the more it became clear to her that this escape couldn't have just happened spontaneously.

There were no signs that you had acted alone. The way you left the hospital without telling her suggested that you must have had help leaving. But who would be interested in supporting you? Who would have a motive to hide you from Olivia, the other team members and investigators?

Olivia sighed in frustration as she asked herself these questions. It was obvious that she needed more information to solve these mysteries. But where should she start? Who could help her shed light on the darkness other than her and Elliot's team?

Suddenly her eyes fell on the pillow, which had something sticking out of its cover and zipper that didn't seem to belong there. Heart pounding, Olivia walked up to it and pulled it out. The finely folded, yellow note was opened and a handwritten message was discovered that immediately caught her eye. Below there was an unknown number.

"They'll never find you. Trust me, I know how to disappear. - A friend,"

A friend? Who could that be? Olivia looked at the message skeptically. There were few people you would consider a friend, and none of them seemed to have a motive to hide you from the police. From her own team. From Olivia. It had to be someone else, someone Olivia didn't know or underestimated.

She suddenly realized that she couldn't limit her search to just the obvious suspects. There was someone out there who helped you go into hiding, and she had to find out who it was in order to take you into custody and protect you on her own.

With a firm resolve in her heart and a hint of anger, she put the note in her pocket and left the hospital room. Her mind was spinning wildly as she wondered who could be behind your escape. But one thing was certain: she would not allow someone for whom she had deep feelings and sought protection to fall into the hands of a violent persecutor once more and the news had given her a new perspective, even though she knew that alone wasn't enough to find out the truth. With quick steps she made her way to her car that would bring her back to the precinct, where she could retreat in her office to think about her next steps.

On the way, she took out her cell phone and dialed her sergeant's number, her long-time partner and friend. He was an experienced detective. He was the best when it came to helping her, and now she needed it more than ever. The phone rang twice before Finn answered.

"Finn, I need you," Olivia said without further ado. "Y/n escaped from the hospital and I believe she got help. Request all the video recordings from the last week, especially the ward where y/n was in and the entrance, and go through them with Kat,“

"Of course, Liv, I'm on my way to speak to her doctors and nursing staff." he answered immediately and Olivia could hear the promise in his voice, but she also knew that Finn knew how serious the situation was regarding of you.

"Keep me updated if you discover anything new. I'm heading back to the precinct." With those words she hung up and continued on her way, her thoughts swirling around the message and the phone number on the note. Who was this "friend" who helped you escape? And why? The answers to these questions would be the key to finding you and protecting you from further harm.

When she reached her office, Olivia closed the door behind her and took a moment to breathe in deeply while collecting her thoughts. Then she sat down at her desk, starting to spread the piece of paper out in front of her and studied the note, hoping to find anything in the handwriting that might help her identify the mysterious friend. There had to be someone close to you, someone who knew how to hide and who had an interest in protecting you.

But the answers seemed to slip through her fingers. She couldn't make a connection between you and any suspect who would have had a motive to hide you. It was frustrating and discouraging, but Olivia didn't let it stop her.

As her thoughts wandered, her eyes fell on a photo that was on her desk. It was a picture of you and her, taken at the brunettes police graduation a few months prior. Olivia stared at the picture and a thoughts flashed through her mind.

"No this can not be." She whispered, but the thought didn't leave her. It was unlikely, but not impossible. What if you were helped to escape because you knew someone who was a police officer or another detective? Someone who had access to sensitive information and various ways to disappear?

Olivia shook her head to dispel the ridiculous idea. It couldn't be someone from her own ranks. But the thought wouldn't let her go. She had to find out if there was a connection between you and a police officer. If there was probably even someone on the hospital video footage. It was a risky hypothesis, but she felt like she was on the right track.

With a sigh, she stood up and prepared to continue her search for answers, walking back outside to task Amanda with tracking the number on the piece of paper and your phone, finding out who it belonged to and where you were. Olivia wouldn't rest until you were back with her, and she wouldn't let anyone stop her. It was a vow of revenge, and she would keep it, no matter the cost.

ᕚ---ᕘ

You stumbled through the crowded city streets, your heart pounding wildly in your chest while every step was accompanied by a sharp pain that emanated from your side, where the deep but already stitched wound had become infected after the procedure. You were breathing heavily, your lungs burning with exertion and pain. Your steps were hurried and uncoordinated as you tried to orient yourself and find a safe place. The people of the city whirled past you, the sound of the crowd ringing in your ears. But despite the hustle and bustle around you, you felt lonely, lost and afraid.

With every step you took, the fear inside you grew. You were alone, hurt, and on the run from a man who would stop at nothing to find you. Every movement and push made you flinch as you tried to hide from your ex-husband's eyes.

The streets of Manhattan were a maze of alleys and deserted squares, and you felt like a rat in a trap. You didn't know where to go. Your head was spinning with fear and panic, and you forced yourself to stay calm even though your mind was wandering.

Suddenly a thought flashed into your mind - the note with the number that a nurse at the hospital had passed to you from someone who could help you. With shaking hands, you fumbled for your gym bag and searched for your cell phone, which you had turned off to avoid being located.

"They'll never find you. Trust me, I know how to disappear. - A friend," you went over the sentence you had memorized for the hundred time this week. A friend. The words seemed like a last ray of hope in the darkness, a spark of hope in the midst of despair. You didn't know who this friend was, but you knew you had to trust them if you wanted to survive.

With your heart pounding, you typed in your cell phone password and typed a message to the number. Your fingers trembled and flew over the keys as you made your request, desperate. "I need your help. Where should I go?"

Meanwhile, you had leaned against a wall, away from the world, to take a short break. Heavy and fast footsteps echoed behind you and you turned around in shock, anxiously waiting for an answer. Your heart was beating so loud you thought it would jump out of your ears. But it was just an older man running past without noticing you. You breathed a sigh of relief, but the fear didn't go away. You didn't feel safe.

It didn't take long for an answer to come. A simple instruction, concise and precise. "Come to the old pizzeria at the harbor in an hour. We'll pick you up there. But throw away your cell phone before you come. We can't be found."

You swallowed hard as you read the message. It was a risky move, but you had no choice. You had to trust this person if you wanted to have any chance of not being found by your ex-husband or dying from the infection that was spreading through your body.

With a determined nod, you threw the phone into the nearby restaurant bin and forced your tired and shaky legs to walk towards the harbor, a bone-chilling pain coursing through your body as you tripped over an objext lying around, and you gritted your teeth to keep from screaming. The streets were still crowded and seemed to stretch on forever. You saw a potential danger in every person and fear was on your mind, but you knew that you had no time for doubts now.

With one last desperate look over your shoulder, you placed the hood of your hoodie over your head and continued on your way, willing to pay any price to save yourself. You didn't know what the future would hold, but you knew you would fight until your last breath.

Forty-five minutes later you arrived at the designated location at the harbor, your heart racing with excitement and fear. With shaking hands, you pushed against the heavy doors of the restaurant, which slowly opened with a creaking sound, the metal handle feeling cold in your warm, sweaty hands as your view slid freely onto the inner workings of the pizzeria. Here you should meet the person you know.

A rush of smells greeted you as you slowly stepped over the threshold - the sweet smell of spices, the savory smell of grilled meat and the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. It smelled of hunger and thirst, of life and movement.

You looked around, your eyes slowly adjusting to the yellowish and strong light as you searched for the familiar figure you were supposed to meet here. But the restaurant was full of strange faces crowding the narrow aisles and sitting at the tables, and you couldn't make out the person you were expecting.

Even the slight forward movement as you fought your way through the maze, searching for a familiar face had unleashed a shockwave of blinding, feverish pain that lanced upward. The source of the fire, on the left, above the hip, under the costal arch. You looked down at yourself for a moment, running your shaky fingers over the area where you could now feel a bulge. The bump under your sweater was covered with a bandage, but you knew you needed enough painkillers and antibiotics as soon as possible. Frantically, you searched for a familiar face, but the more you searched, the more you feared that you were wrong, that no one was here to help you. A trap.

But as you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder and you spun around with care, never in a million years could you have thought that you would run into this exact person. A shiver ran down your spine as the realization hit you.

“Alex,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. Alexandra Cabot, the former prosecutor, the person who worked with the SVU for many years before she disappeared herself, was here to help you. It was a surprising revelation that almost took your breath away.

The blonde nodded, her face marked with happiness. She took a step closer to you, her eyes full of compassion. "Yes, yes. It's me," she said softly, her voice firm and soothing, her lips warm and inviting in a smile of relief while your eyes widened in surprise and realization.

You were speechless with astonishment. "We have to act quickly. Come, I will take you to a safe place where you can also be provided with the necessary emergency medicine."

You nodded silently, your throat dry with relief and gratitude. You couldn't believe was here to help you. After all the years she was in hiding and she was considered dead, you never thought you would ever see her again.

“How did you know-” you asked, taking a deep breath, blocking out the pain. You felt her eyes on you as you got into a dark SUV, which got driven by one of her protectors. "It was all over the news. The critical condition of a detective with your photo, that it was your ex-husband's fault, the injuries you sustained as a result. The police tried to keep most of it secret to protect your privacy, but some things were still leaked and I didn't know what else to do.“

You nodded again, a feeling of relief washing over you. You knew the road ahead would be long and difficult while your team did everything possible to find your ex-husband and you could finally return to Olivia. But until then, you were safe by Alex's side and Olivia was safer with you gone.

[huihuiheart]

Kinktober D12: Down The Rabbit Hole - Wen Junhui

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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Seventeen Masterlist

Pairing: Madhatter! Wen Junhui x Alice! Afab Reader

Genre: Some angst, Some Horror, Some Fluff, Smut

Summary: When you fell down into Wonderland the Hatter seems to be more than excited at your sudden arrival.

Warnings: Slight horror themes, slight possessive themes, use of the term Alice as like a title, claws mentioned, bondage, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, dollification, cursing, dirty talk.

Word Count: 4165

You tend to find yourself a peaceful person, but the way this rabbit has been running amuck in your garden was making you seriously consider it. Today when you caught the little white blur of fur rush by you found yourself chasing it out, but you didn't stop at the end of your garden today. No, you wanted to know exactly where it was coming from. Turning the corner after him though you felt the ground give under you, though you supposed that's what you got for not looking at where you were going. Your eyes squeezed shut as you waited for the impact, an impact that never came though. So you trepidatiously peeked your eyes open to find yourself still falling, down a hole. Little flickers of light here and there illuminating the dirt hole and the contents of it. Reaching out to whatever stuck out from the walls in hopes of catching yourself on the way down. Though the first thing you grabbed was an umbrella which ripped right out of the wall, not to anyone's surprise. The way it popped open and caught you seconds before you hit the ground, as if you had entered a television show and that word of physics is what now applied. Not that you had any room to complain considering it saved you quite the bit of pain.

Looking around you find the light source, another hole that you crouch down and crawl through knowing that you fell too far down to be heard if you yell and there wasn't enough to climb up. So you'd have to find another way out. When you came through though you found yourself in a forest. A lust forest where the only sign of life around was the dirt trail and directional signs. Though the signs were mocking you in and of themselves. After all, who named locations here and there and nowhere? So instead you let your feet and gut guide you in the best direction, though opting out of the nowhere direction not wanting to determine why it was so interestingly named. Only to be just as perturbed at the next set which simply said this way and that way. Certainly someone must be finding themselves rather humorous right now, but you did not find them as such.

"Oho, we finally have another visitor. The hatter will most certainly be happy to see you." A voice calls startling you enough to cause a jump and search around for the source only to hear a laugh, "Look up."

Scouring the tree branches you find a rather peculiar man laying across one, head on his hands and pink and blue cat ears stop his head, a tail in the same colors swishing behind him. If you looked closely you could notice rather cat-like golden eyes and faint little whiskers across his cheeks.

"Well why are you up there? Uhm…sir?" You question him tilting your head and only making him laugh gleefully again.

"I love it up here as most cats do, though the title of sir is far too proper for someone as mad as me. My name is Soonyoung, this forest's resid Cheshire cat." He introduced standing on the branch and making a rather dramatic bow before falling forward off the branch only for his tail to swirl around him and he disappeared into thin air. Only to feel a tap on the shoulder and cause you to turn to find him there. "Where exactly do you find yourself going?"

"Oh well, wherever will take me home." You inform him rather adamantly with a nod.

"That simply won't do, you see we lost our last Alice and so we've just been waiting for someone to come visit us so we could have a new one. The hatter has been so lonely since they've left you see." He tells you hands clasping together in front of him as he starts to walk in circles now though around what you weren't entirely sure. Though not long after his arm is around your shoulder and suddenly he's got claws firm against you there, "Come along I'll show you the way. We really shouldn't keep him waiting. It's bad manners to be late for tea, you know."

Soonyoung strolls along as if you're the most willing companion, bobbing his head back and forth as he hums the whole way along, his tail swishing happily behind him. Though his humming stops as you hear singing and the soft clink of dishes in the distance, the cat boy practically vibrates in anticipation at your side. His arm dropping from around you and grasping firm around your wrist to guide you but now behind him. 

"Oh ~ Jun ~ I've brought you a surprise!" Soonyoung calls pulling you out from behind him for the others to see. The one man no doubt the hatter if you had to guess based on the top hat he wore, suit covered in scraps of materials and fabric for any sudden use in any color known to be tangible for dyeing. His eyes widening, mouth opening in shock as he stutters over words he doesn’t even know he’s trying to say. You get distracted only a moment later as the man who had been laid over the table pops up at the commotion, soft rounded ears atop his head and a thin tail the same grey color as the ears stills behind him.

“C-C-CAT!” He trembles pointing to the very mischievous cheshire that had brought you to the group. 

“Easy Wonwoo I was just leaving now that they have been announced.” Soonyoung turns to you with a smile, bringing the back of your hand to his mouth for a kiss, “See you again soon, once you’re Alice.” 

With that his tail swirls over his form again, making him disappear from your sight once more, only this time he doesn’t pop up again. When you turn back to the trio you now are able to look at the third man, tall brown ears sticking out from a mop of fluffed brown hair. His eyes dark and baggy as if the man had no idea what sleep even was. He bounced up and down clapping his hands appearing much like a child hyped up on far too much caffeine and sugar to be healthy and you were slightly concerned he might have a heart attack in the next second. 

“Alice is here! Alice is here! Alice is here!” He chanted over and over until it seemed to snap the man in the hat out of his daze as he chuckled softly.

“Yes it would appear so Shua.” Hat smiles softly at you for a moment before taking a few steps closer,  and taking his hat off to bow in introduction, “I am Jun, Wonderlands one and only Hatter. The mad hatter. Our march hare over there is Joshua. There’s also our drowsy little dormouse over there in Wonwoo, and it would be our honor if you would be so kind as to join us for tea.” 

You hesitated for a moment,  but determined that they appeared to be much less threatening than the cat had been and you were rather thirsty after all the events of the day. A calming cup of tea could do you quite a bit of good. With a small nod you take Jun’s outstretched hand and allow him to guide you to a seat which he pulled out for you before pushing it back in.  Jun then immediately gets a glass and pours the tea in followed by sugar and cream, but before placing it in front of you he’s grabbing all sorts of pastries and jams and quite the entire spread for you. Placing one time after another down at your seat before you were even given the opportunity to taste anything. Meanwhile Joshua was bouncing between one seat after another faster than you felt your eyes or brain could keep up. Wonwoo sighs and settles into the seat to your right before you could get too much more overwhelmed, crossing his arms on the table before resting his head on them, eyes already half closed again.

“Don’t pay them any mind, they lack any manners. They don’t mean any harm by it, however, tell us a bit about yourself though.” He tries to ease you a little, effortlessly bringing the tea cup that had been nearly buried in the spread forward for you to finally grasp and sip from.

“My name is Y/N, but for some reason everyone has been calling me Alice since arriving. Do you know why that is?” You start, sharing merely a tidbit before asking the first of many questions.

Wonwoo nodded and let his eyes slip closed, “Consider it more of a title. The first visitor we had from outside Wonderland was named Alice and so since then any visitors are often referred to as such by many here. It’s nice to meet you though Y/N.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too Wonwoo… how did they all arrive here? Because I fell down here not long ago.” You share and he hums in response letting you know that despite appearances he was not yet asleep.

“Most of the time that is how, though there have been a few exceptions. You just fell though, are you alright?” He peeks open the eye closest to you, scanning before it’s closed once again.

“Yes I feel fine, just confused and overwhelmed.” You assure with a soft sigh, reaching out between the jars for one that looked interesting as you had a toast in front of you with nothing atop. Much rather the thought of doing it yourself than a practical stranger.

“Ahh not that one…it’s not jam.” Wonwoo whispers, pulling it away and sliding it down the table to the hatter, “Jun I told you not at the table, that’s not…sanitary.” 

Your brows looking at the thick substance in the jar so dark you had mistaken it for a blackberry or perhaps even black cherry, but in this light it appeared too red for such and a shiver ran down your spine. Seeing the protective hold Jun had over it didn’t help.

“Now take our guest somewhere to rest. Y/N has had a long day and needs to recover.” He seems to demand of Jun and before you can argue his hand is soft over yours, “He’s odd and overwhelming, but I can guarantee you are in no danger with him. You are the last person he would ever hurt.” 

"Come Y/N you can stay with me!" Jun beams at you waving for you to follow as he starts to head off down another path now. Until you both come upon a hat shop that he's soon unlocking the main door for, "My house is on the back end, just through the shop."

You follow him, albeit tentatively through the shop and past a door with a padlock on it, which certainly doesn't put you at ease. Jun finally stops in front of a pale blue door, turning to smile at you.

"This is the guest room, make yourself at home. My room is right across the way, the purple door if you need anything." He informs you before opening the door for you. The room is mostly blues and white, with soft notes of pink and gold laced throughout. It looks classy and nice, almost too nice for the chaotic hatter that you have seen, wondering how a man could have something so put together such as this. 

"I think I'll be alright, thank you. Just exhausted." You assure him, slipping into the room and shutting the door. Looking through the dresser for something comfortable you could put in. Finding a larger cotton shirt and some point pants that would do the trick for the night. Finding a bathroom to freshen up in for the night and then going to bed as the fatigue set in.

The next morning you hope you woke before Jun and could slip out to be on your way, but when you open your door to find his own open across the way you know you're not that lucky. Then decided to look for a backdoor out, also to come up blank. Sighing as you concede and head towards the shop again. Jun is already in there working though now as you step in there’s threads strung up all across the expanse of the shop, something he can navigate with ease. You however nearly immediately get tangled up in there. It catches Jun’s attention and when he looks at you his breath hitches.

“You look good in my shirt.” His words surprise you slightly as you look down at what you’re wearing again, when you look back up he’s navigated through the maze of threads to stand right before where you’re twisted up. His hands reach out to the hem of his shirt on you and gently starts to tug up causing your eyes to widen and you squirm, only tightening the grip of the strings on you.

“Hey! What are you doing? Stop that!” Your protests make Jun pause looking at you softly.

“Don’t worry. I’m just doing this to put that on you.” He gestures over to the corner and when you look you now notice a blue bouffant dress on a mannequin that you had somehow missed previously, “I want to ensure it fits perfectly for you, so I want to alter it for you. Let me help please.”

He’s speaking so softly to you, treating you so delicately that even though you’re flustered and feel slightly vulnerable still you nod softly letting him get his shirt off you. Followed by the pants only a moment or two later. Jun pulled out a knife a moment later, flipping it open to effortlessly cut a few of the threads that would be in the way a moment later. Then he’s leaving you to go retrieve the dress and a few supplies.  Coming back to help you step into a crinoline, followed by a frilled white petticoat, the edges scalloped and with delicate blue and gold designs embroidered into it.  Then he’s getting the dress on you and stepping behind to slip the lace through the corset back loosely before stepping around to button the front and then going to the back once more to tighten it to fit properly.

“If I pull it too tight just speak up, I want it to fit you the way it is made to, but I don’t want you in pain.” He speaks right against your ear, breath warm and almost comforting in a way as he begins. Though he takes his time and doesn’t hurt you at all in the process. Then he’s in your line of sight, but only momentarily before he’s off to get things once again. Returning with white ruffled socks that he kneels to put on you, then followed by brown lace booties with just the tiniest bit of heel. “Now for the final touch.”

Jun goes to a box that he brings over, then moving onto your hair, twisting one side away from your face and pinning it up before he’s taking a hat out of the box. A pearly white teacup with gold trim the centerpiece looking almost as if it were atop a ruffled doily, delicate blue bows the same color as the dress circling the base of the cup. Each with  a flower of pearls at the center of it. He follows the twist of your hair towards the back of your head, putting the hat on just off to the side. Then twisting a blue and white ribbon into the hair on the other side of your head, leaving just a few stray bits down to frame your face and neck. Stepping back to take in his masterpiece. 

“You look breathtaking in blue.” He says and the way he sounds as if he truly cannot breath only persuades you he believes those very words. Then he hums realizing you haven’t seen yet and he goes to get the floor length mirror from where it is doing no good and place it before you so you can take yourself in. Him appearing proud of himself at the gasp you let out at the sight.

“I can’t believe that’s me… I don’t think I’ve ever looked so classy or beautiful before…” You admit and his cheeks are burning at the comment.

“You were already so beautiful, I simply dressed you.” He dismisses with a soft wave, “I know you have just arrived, but I promise I won’t fail you. Not like any other time, I haven’t been enough for other Alices that or the queen got to them first… I swear to you though that no harm will come to you now, I won’t allow it. I will make you happy. I’ll be enough this time.”

You really didn’t know the eclectic hatter all that well and there were still things about him that put you on edge, but the way he had just treated you made you feel that he shouldn’t be considering himself in such a light. Not that you believed anyone should view themselves as unworthy, but especially someone who had just put in all that work to make you feel beautiful for the sake of it. 

“Jun… come here.” Your request confuses him, yet he says nothing to complain coming over to where you’re still tied up. Not close enough though and you click your tongue, “Closer.”

Once it’s enough you lean up and press your lips against his for a moment, finding them far softer than they had simply appeared. The way he froze against you let you know that whatever he had expected was not that, but he still refused to complain, leaning in only a moment later to press your lips firmer together.  You are breaking away first, looking into his dark eyes as you speak.

“Jun, you have nothing to prove to me. You need to understand that. I don’t know what has happened with you and the other visitors, but you don’t need to prove anything to anyone who comes here.” You try to assure him, though the way his brows scrunch you can tell there is still an internal debate. 

His hands find your hips, gripping them as he steps closer, letting you feel his hard on pressed against the waist of the dress, “Will you allow me this? Allow me to prove that I am enough in every way not to you, but to myself?” 

You blinked at him, confounded by the blatancy of his statement and his astounding actions, mouth agape as you stumbled to find the words to respond to his query, “ I… I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking me.”

He raises a brow at your nervous chuckle, licking his lips at the way you flustered so easily for him, “Oh, but I think you do my pretty little Alice.” 

Jun’s hands slipped lower now toying with the bottom hem of your dress before leaning in letting his breath tickle your ear and neck again. Though this time you noticed how good he smelled, of earl grey and bergamot something you wouldn’t mind being surrounded in. 

“I want to fuck you in this pretty little dress. Having you falling apart on my cock like my pretty little doll.”  His voice almost seems to have the faintest little bit of a growl to it and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Okay, but just… don’t rush it please. I don’t want it to hurt.” You feel your cheeks burn at the request and how little hesitation you showed now that it truly came down to it, but you knew the request would be necessary based on what you had felt when he pressed against you. 

“Of course my pretty doll, I would never hurt you.” He assures you, dropping to his knees, tugging on a string behind him and your legs are being tugged apart, spreading you for him.  Flipping the skirt of your dress rather dramatically over his hat as it keeps the material out of his way so his lips could press against your panties delicately before he’s ripping them off. “Don’t worry doll no one will be able to tell under this dress of yours.”

His hands are on your thighs as he finally gets a taste of you, almost instantly going feral at it and becoming desperate to drink down as much of you as he can get. Despite the way his mouth gets almost aggressive however, he never grips at your thighs, his touch simply brushing delicately against your skin as if he’s afraid to damage it.  

“Sweetest thing I ever tasted, doll. I don’t know how I’ll go back to my tea table now, not without the taste of you filling my cup instead. Nothing will ever satisfy me other than you now.” He groans before his tongue is pressing in trying to get as deep as possible to truly get the most of you that he could. The actions cause his nose to press firmly against your clit and whenever he shifts to get better access he rubs against it increasing your pleasure tenfold. That being nearly all it took to make you cum for him, the last straw being when his moans grew loud enough for you to hear and not just feel despite being muffled by all the layers of dress in the way. Jun took his time lapping gently at you until he was sure he had gotten every last drop of your cum and only then coming back from underneath and into your view, lips and chin glistening, nearly dripping even in you. 

“Somehow you’re even sweeter when you cum doll, though I’m thinking that might only be for me.” He smirks up at you as you watch his tongue slip out to lap up as much as he can off his face, “You’re definitely ready for me now though.” 

He’s reaching around to help you despite the strings, turning you and bending you over, now with quite the number of threads tangled beneath where your upper half is bent. His hands work to bunch the material of the dress in a way where he can push in without ruining what he had put so much effort into perfecting for you. Feeling as though he were floating, with the way your still sensitive cunt squeezed him and you moaned softly at the feeling of him.

“I knew you were perfect doll, but to feel it adds so much more. Now let me show you that you’re not the only perfection here.” Jun emphasizes his point with a purposeful thrust, one that hit deep and just right showing he did in fact know exactly what he was doing. Each one to follow after was just as skillful and soon had your eyes rolling back until all you saw was stars. Sure your cries could be heard far outside of his shop, not that either of you cared as you grew obsessed with the feeling of each other. You hadn’t intended to be here sure, but with the way Jun’s cock was bullying your spot and had you drooling you may have to stay simply to curb the addiction this create within your core. 

“Fuck Junnie… fuck me full please… you ruined my panties now if you fill me I’ll leak down my legs under the pretty dress you made me. Marked and soiled as your little dolly. Your pretty little Alice.”  Your words made him twitch inside of you, nearly losing it. Only he held off long enough to rub at your clit and hear you fall apart for him. Stilling pressed firmly against your cervix as he felt you lose yourself on his cock and threw him over the edge.

“So perfect for me. Only who knows, I fucked it deep in there baby doll. So some of it might just stay in and take. Give you my babies.” His words make you whimper at the thought alone. 

He goes to get something to gently wipe you off with before he’s cutting the threads one at a time to help you out of them while you’re still shaky and unsettled, not wanting any accidents. Then he’s helping you back to the guest room to lay you down again, lightly kissing your forehead.

“You take a nap and rest up after all that. I’ll just do some more work and by the time you wake I’ll have lunch ready for us.” He assures you, brushing the hair out of your face and tucking you in before he’s heading back to the doorway. When he turns to look at you once more he smiles seeing you already in a peaceful sleep.

“Welcome home my Alice.”

If you enjoy my work please keep in mind how much time and effort goes into it and show support through comments and reblogs, or consider buying me a kofi. (Caffeine fuels the chaotic gremlin in me who creates content.)

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

[3mmafr0st]

Remember Me Part 3

Previous Part <-------> Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Y/N has escaped, but where does she go from here?  Word Count: 1.5k (Sorry this ones a little short)

Warnings: Homelessness, a striking lack of Bucky, but soon my friends, soon, ANGST, reader not understanding computers very well A/N: Im apologizing for the lack of smut in this part, but I really like following the canon

I was woken up abruptly by a quick jab to the ribs, quickly waking up and going into action. I grabbed the object and twisted it away.

“Hey, I’m not looking for a fight here, just wanted to make sure that you didn’t overdose on whatever you were on last night.” I looked up to see the older man that had talked to me the night before. He was in his forties and dirty looking, but had kind eyes, shielded by a pair of small glasses. “Can’t have the cops pokin’ around here, bad for everyone.” I got up from the wet grass, wiping myself off from anything that may have gotten on me. 

“For the record, I wasn’t high.”

“Could have fooled me.” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He couldn’t have understood the intensity of the situation that I was in. Hydra was probably after me, and I had no idea where to go or what to do about it.

I couldn’t help but think about Bucky, what happened to him and where he was right now. He had to have gotten out, right? He was a better agent than I was, simply in physicality. He had the capability to escape, we would find each other. But how had they found us out? There must have been some sort of suspicion, something that tipped the higher ups off about what we were going to do. How could I have been so careless to allow someone to find out the plan. But that was the past now, I had to focus on what happens next. 

“Where’s the closest library?”

I walked down the sidewalk toward the library, trying my best to blend in, looking inconspicuous against the crowd. I was lucky enough that the closest library was only two blocks away, I was already a little tired from last night with everything that happened. 

I looked to my left, and sure enough, there was a quaint little library that looked cozy. I shook the handle and pushed at the door, thankful that it was open earlier than most places. 

The walls were covered in children’s drawings. I knew I shouldn’t be wasting time, but the entire thing was so uncanny, so unabashedly civilian, something I hadn’t experienced in who knows how long.  At the small front desk sat a woman, maybe in her thirties with a small name tag.

“Hello miss, anything I could help you with today?” She smiled sweetly at me, welcoming me into the library. 

“Actually, do you guys have computers that the public can use?”

“Yes, they’re right over in the corner.”

“Thank you, also, do you happen to have some paper and something to write with?” She turned around, picking some paper and a pen up and handing it to me. I returned her smile and headed over to the out of date computers sitting at the back of the room. 

I turned the old thing on, a sound a little bit like music coming out of the speakers as it booted up. It was then that I remembered that although I’ve shoved a flash drive in one of these and let things happen until it said “COMPLETE,” I wasn’t too familiar with computers .  Sure I had wanted to work with those beautiful machines, simply being left alone with one for an hour with a manual and figuring out all of it’s secrets. I had no idea what in me was pushing me so much towards them, but it was there.

Once the machine turned on, I looked at the display. Luckily, it wasn’t too difficult to figure out, there were only two little icons on the screen, and the one that looked like a little trash can was probably not what I wanted. The other was a little colorful circle called “Chrome.” Personally, I didn't see what was chrome about it but I clicked it, and a screen popped up. The word “Google'' was written across the middle of the screen along with a small bar with a picture of a magnifying glass at the left side. 

It took me a minute, but I figured out what I needed to do. The first thing that I could think of to search for was Bucky. I typed his name into the search bar and pressed enter, and tons of results flooded the screen.

The problem was that I didn’t know any of the concrete facts about him. I knew that his name was Bucky, and how he was sweet and funny even though we’ve both been through so much, but I didn’t know his last name, or when he was born, or even how old he was. 

There was a little tab called images that made the most sense to me. If I could find a picture of him in the pool of “Bucky”s that existed in the world, I could find out who he was, and then hopefully, figure out who I was from there. There were many pictures, at first it was overwhelming, but as I scrolled slightly, I found it, found him. 

He looked younger, more innocent, with a short haircut and a blue leather jacket that made me swoon a little bit. He looked different, but I couldn’t mistake those beautiful blue eyes. I clicked on the picture, which led me to a sight called Wikipedia, with his photo in the corner. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, born on March 10th, 1917, was a member of the Howling commandos and best friend to Steve Rogers (Captain America).”

I continued reading, writing down the important bits , how he was tested on by HYDRA way back in 1943, and how he was supposedly killed after falling from a train. But he couldn’t have died, I didn’t know him back then, I knew him now. 

The name Steve Rogers continuously popped up, so I clicked on it, and was flooded with even more information. Once I had everything I had to know written down after the rabbit hole I had been down, I turned to the librarian to ask her one last question.

“Do you think you could give me directions to Avengers Tower?”

I would have preferred to take a cab but I couldn't without money, so walking 20 blocks was my only option. The tower was huge, and I found it much too easy to walk right in. There were people walking and sitting at tables in the lobby, working at filling out paperwork. I went up to the desk, not allowing them to get a word in before I could say what I needed to. 

“I need to speak with Steve Rogers.”

“Ma’am, if you just give us a moment, we can help you.”

“No, you don’t understand, everyone here is in danger, Bucky is in danger.” A man in the back stood up, walking towards me to get a better look at me. His hair was graying and his glasses filled up most of his face. He looked pale, as if he had just seen a ghost. 

“Y/N?”

“Get this shit away from me! I told you, I need to talk to Steve Rogers, he’s the only one who will understand.”

“Y/N, I know you don’t remember but we need to do some tests.”

“Please, just get me in touch with him!”

The lab, I’ll admit, was friendlier than most that I had been in. The room was filled with computers and scientific equipment that I really wanted to go and play with for some Rita’s on. There were nodes stuck to my forehead that were oddly gentle, but I still didn’t like the feeling.There was a small TV connected to the ceiling showing the news. A woman’s voice was heard over the mess that was being filmed. 

“In breaking news today, wanted fugitive from S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain America, has been spotted in Washington D.C. battling with a masked stranger in the middle of the highway. “

I  looked to the screen and immediately recognized him, It was Bucky, my Bucky, fighting it out with Steve Rogers. He had taken off his goggles, the two of them fighting with an intensity that I had never seen before. The only person that could match Bucky in a fight like that was me, so this was damn impressive. 

“There! There he is, you need to get me to Washington D.C!”

“Y/N, you need to calm down, we need to help you first.” A second man began to get near me, pulling the leg of my pants up, exposing the metallic nature of my left leg. I panicked and kicked the man away, sending him across the room. 

“I don’t need help, I need to get to Washington D.C., and how the hell do you know my name?” I pushed the man off of me and got up, trying to get out of the lab. I had almost made it out of the door when I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I immediately felt woozy, falling back into the chair closest to me.

“It’s gonna be ok, Stats, I’m gonna take care of you,” The graying man from earlier said, helping me back into the lab chair from earlier with music less resistance than before. My vision got spotty, as his wistful, almost bittersweet facial expression was the last thing I saw before total blackness.

[chasingforeverandaday]

Can I ask for #23 from the fluff writing prompts please? “I’d rather live in the woods with you than in a mansion with some (boy/girl/person) I barely know.” I mean, it’s just screaming gendrya at me! Thank you!

Well, how does some Regency era AU sound? This one ended up a full on one shot, because I fell down a rabbit hole real fast. Also I got to write Robb, which was super fun because I never write Robb. He may be a bit out of character, but I feel like if any of the Stark siblings would understand Arya’s conflict of love and duty, it would absolutely be Robb.

half agony, half hope

There are times that Gendry Waters thinks his life would be so much simpler if he’d ever actually learned how to say no to Miss Arya Stark, sister to the Lord of Winterfell. He can stall her in her impulsivities yes, or can sometimes talk her around to his point of view on a matter, but straight up denying her when she looks up at him with those big grey eyes and the pout he always wishes to kiss from her lips?

Stronger men than him would capitulate without question.

Stronger men have.

So when she barges into his smithy one June morning, he steels himself for whatever new (potentially scandalous) misadventure she has in mind for them. But the stricken look on her face as she quietly requests that he close up early and meet her in his personal quarters ignites a panic in his belly, and he hustles the other customers out as quickly as he can after she leaves.

Door locked and forge cooled for the day, he hurries through washing up and finds her in his rooms, pacing back and forth in front of the hearth. He can see the exact moment she notices his presence, as her head whips around to his and her face crumples. Terror seizes in his veins and he crosses the room in two strides to pull her into his arms.

She doesn’t fight him, just lets herself be held for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist so tightly he thinks she’ll never let go. A shudder passes through her slim frame, then one hand reaches up to bend his neck downwards, her mouth seeking his.

Gods know he’d be happy to kiss her forever, but something must have shaken Arya badly for her to show up unannounced and ask him to abandon his work. Pulling away to lean his forehead against hers, he asks, “Love, what’s wrong?

A tiny voice he’s never associated with Arya Stark whispers, “How quickly can you be ready to leave?”

“What?” Utterly bewildered, he pushes her back farther so he can read her face, but she just burrows her face into his neck, clinging onto him like a limpet. Cautiously, he moves them to his narrow bed, sitting on the edge as she falls into his lap, all the while never letting him go.

She looks up at him then, eyes a little harder, a little more sure as she takes his hands in hers. “Run away with me. Gendry, please, we need to go, and it needs to be as soon as possible.”

“I don’t understand, I thought we had more time, that I had more time to…” Prove myself worthy of you, let myself learn to let you go, something, anything but be forced to watch you choose between me and your family.

“My mother’s invited suitors from houses Frey, Dayne, and Arryn to Winterfell, and I heard her tell Robb earlier that she won’t be letting me reject all of them.” Turning away as she speaks, Arya curls into him more, making herself look even smaller if that were even possible. “She intends to have me wedded and bedded by the end of the summer, seems to think it will curb my more unladylike tendencies.”

“Arya, you’re only twenty two for gods’ sake. She can hardly be that desperate to be putting you on the shelf already!” Almost as an afterthought, he mumbles into her hair, “And I like your unladylike tendencies.”

A sad smile on her face, Arya cups his cheek with her palm as she stays seated in his lap. “I know you do. I think she just wants me to be someone else’s problem now. Besides, all my siblings but Rickon have made good matches and are married. But what my mother said isn’t the important part.”

There’s a subtle shift in her voice as she draws herself fully upright, the pain replaced by something a little more hopeful. She’s finally looking at him again, her grey eyes searching his.

“Because Robb…” she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before looking him straight in the eye. “Robb told her he thought I should have more of a choice. He said that yes, I should marry, but that it didn’t have to be one of them. He told her that none of them would make me happy, and that I should marry a man who made me smile, not grimace every time I looked at him.”

Rubbing a hand up and down her back, Gendry cannot help but wonder, “That’s good, even I know that’s a good thing, but why…?”

“Because Robb walked out of his study and found me standing there, pale as a ghost I’m sure. He took me back to my room, and he told me that he thought I shouldn’t be forced to marry a man I didn’t love.” One of her hands comes to rest over his heart, fluttering rapidly at her touch. “Somehow, he knew about you and me, because then he told me he’d been thinking about commissioning you for some ironwork around the estate, and perhaps I could go to town to speak with you about it, since neither he nor Bran could do so today.”

The pieces fall together, and a little of Arya’s hope finds a home with Gendry. “So you think he’s giving us his blessing, and we’re running away.”

“I know he is, he just can’t come out and say it because of who he is.” Threading her fingers through his own, Arya holds their clasped hands together like a talisman, pressing a light kiss to the back of his before looking up with a smile. “We’re going to Gretna Green, and we’re going to get married like we’ve wanted to for three years, and then I’m going to actually learn how to keep a house and run your smithy, and we’re going to be happy, Gendry, so incredibly happy.”

“Aye, in our tiny little home with two rooms and no grand paintings or pianos or anything fancy like what you have up at Winterfell.” He knows that Arya says she has no care for those things, but he needs to remind her of the difference in their standing, just one last time before they make this choice that will alter their lives forever.

“Stupid boy,” she giggles, poking him in the nose with the first true grin he’s seen on her face this afternoon, “I’d rather live in the woods with you than in a manor with some person I barely know. I mean, ideally we live somewhere with a forge for you, but as long as you’re with me, I’m hardly going to be picky.”

Bending down, Gendry allows himself to brush a quick kiss to her lips, a promise made without words. “Give me a few days, so I can finish up my orders and get everything ready so I can leave. Just don’t say yes to any other proposals, and we’ll be saying our vows in a fortnight.”

-/-/-

A sennight later, as she prepares her horse for the journey as surreptitiously as she can, the stable door creaks open. Terrified that it will be that one stablehand who always tells her mother when she leaves the estate without asking permission, Arya hides in the shadows of Nymeria’s stall, peeking out into the center aisle into the hazy, pre-dawn light.

It’s Robb, carefully shutting the door behind him. He walks straight up to her hiding place and holds out his hand to her, a small smirk on his face. “Come out sister, we’ve not much time to waste.”

Slowly, she leads Nymeria out of the stall, fingers tightly gripping her reins. Her brother looks older than she’s ever seen him before. He looks like a lord in a way he never has before, one with the world weighing on his shoulders. But then her eyes meet his, and he smiles at her, and Robb is her big brother once more.

Dropping Nym’s reins, Arya throws herself into his arms, trusting that he will catch her implicitly. She’ll miss this, she thinks, having a brother she knows she can depend on.

When they finally pull away, Robb reaches up to wipe a tear she hadn’t even noticed from her eye. “There now, this won’t be the last time we see each other, little sister. Besides, one would think you’d be happier to be heading off on such a grand adventure with your blacksmith.”

Laughing wetly, she replied, “I am, trust me, I am anxious to start our lives together, I just…” here she shrugged, fidgeting her hands as she tried to gather the words to express herself. “This is the last time I’ll be in Winterfell as Arya Stark, or maybe ever if Mother reacts the way I think she will when she finds out. I’ll miss it here, even when Gendry and I have a new home. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“You’ll always have a home here, for as long as I’m the lord. Probably after too, as you and I both know you’re Little Ned’s favorite auntie. But I think you’ll be far happier living wherever you and your husband end up than you would locked up in a London townhouse with whatever ponce our Mother has handpicked for you.” The disgusted face he made at his own words made her smile again, which she knew was exactly why he’d done so in the first place.

Serious again, Robb placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze as he said, “I’ve grown to love Jeyne, I have, but I’ve never looked at her the way your Mr. Waters looks at you, or you look at him, and neither has Sansa’s husband. You’re incandescently happy whenever you’re near him, and I can always tell when you haven’t spoken to him in days because you’re so quiet, like you’re holding in all of your thoughts until you can share them with him.”

He sighed before continuing in a soft tone, “If you hadn’t found him, hadn’t fallen in love, then I would try to arrange a marriage for you that could lead to your overall happiness in life. But you did. You fell in love years ago, and I’m glad that at least one of us gets to experience that joy in this lifetime.”

Moving to hold her hand in his left, he reached with his right into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope. “This is the information for the accounts I’ve had set up in your name in London.” He placed it in her hand and looked her square in the eyes. “You may not be marrying with a proper trousseau, but this way you won’t be entering this marriage without your dowry. You don’t need to worry about Mother’s reaction either, I’ll take care of it. Jon will meet you in Scotland, I’ve already sent him an express explaining everything.”

Shocked at all the things he had thought of and put in place for her, Arya could only manage to sob, “Robby, I…” before hugging him again.

Her brother pulled her close once more, placing a kiss on her brow before pulling away. “I love you, and I’m sorry I cannot do more. Be happy, Arya. Be happy and one day when we’re old and grey, you’ll tell me stories of all your adventures with the man I know you love and the adorable little children I’m sure you’ll have. Now go, the tasks I set for James cannot take much longer, and you have quite the ride ahead of you.”

With that, Robb helped her onto her horse and led her outside as the sun rose. After he let her go, Arya pushed Nymeria into a trot, determined to make her way to the closed smithy before the people of Wintertown fully awoke. She only let herself look back once, barely able to see the figure of her brother as he waved her off into her future.

[shotsbyshae]

Cannonball

Warnings: Language

Words: 3.4k

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: When things go bad, you always end up at his door, and things are really, really bad.

Song: Cannonball by ZZ Ward

A/N: This is loosely based on a reader request and can be read as a stand-alone or prequel/sequel to Not Afraid Anymore. (Yea, this rabbit hole is Going. All. The. Way.)

I’m down on my knees and I’m screamin’ I’m a fiend, and I’m beggin’ you, please.

2023

Death.

It’s the end of one’s story.

There’s no running from it.

Death always comes ‘round.

Because all stories have to end – don’t they?

Well, who makes that choice?

Who decides when it’s time for the story to be over?

Of everything that’s happened, you know this can’t be the end of their story.

All that they’ve been through – the lives they’ve saved.

Only to make the ultimate sacrifice.

They defeated him, but Thanos still won.

It isn’t right.

You slide the zipper closed on the duffel bag, slinging it across your shoulder as you hear his deep voice from the door, “Where are you going?” You smile a little to yourself, because you never realized how much you’d miss him until he was gone like the others. Fury continues as you turn to face him. “Stark’s service is in an hour.”

“I’m not going,” you reply quietly. “I – I have to go.”

“Go? Go where?” confusion on his face is evident as you begin to walk out of the room.

“When I was first started at S.H.I.E.L.D., you and Coulson gave me The Shadow Project,” you glance up at him earnestly. “I don’t know why you trusted me of all people, but you did. Aside from the Initiative, Shadow’s all I know – it’s my job.”

“What are you saying?” you can hear the concern in his voice.

“Let me do my job, Nick.”  

If you’ve learned anything, it’s that death doesn’t have to be the end.  

2011

The cell phone from the center console of the SUV begins to ring and you answer it quickly, knowing who’s on the other end.

Nick Fury has many secrets, and a little rendezvous like this of yours is just one of them.

Sometimes even S.H.I.E.L.D. encounters that which cannot be explained.

When that happens, you have to make a phone call to him.

“Hi, Garth.”

“Change of plans,” he says. “I can’t make it.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reply, brows furrowed. “You know that.”

“I’ve got it covered,” Garth states. “I’ve got a couple guys in the area. I gave them the location and they’re going to meet you for the information.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose with an audible sigh into the phone, “I don’t like it.”

“You can trust them,” Garth says reassuringly. “They owe me one, you could say I saved their pretty faces.”

You’ve been meeting him for six months now and the idea of Garth saving anyone still baffles you, even though you know what he does for a living.

You’re standing beside the front of the SUV when the black car pulls to a stop in front of you, same model as Garth had described in his phone call earlier. The two men who climb from inside are nothing like what you expect, given your history with Garth.

They share a look of slight surprise between the two of them as you ask, “You must be Garth’s friends.”

“I wouldn’t go that –” the shorter of the two begins but is interrupted by the other one.

“Yea, that’s us. I’m Sam,” says the very tall one. He’s cute, with shaggy dark hair. “This is my brother Dean.” He gives a smile and you can tell right away he’s trouble.

“Alright then,” you nod, getting to the point. You close the distance, holding out a manilla folder, which Dean reaches for – he must like to be in charge. “Here’s everything we have on the group – there’s about twelve of them.”

“Nest,” Dean corrects as he flips through the surveillance photos. You fold your arms across your chest, uncomfortable at his tone and gold-green eyes flick up to yours, small smirk on the edge of his lips. “Not group – vampires are a nest.”

“Yea – okay,” you respond. “Well, have fun storming the nest.”

You’re halfway back to your door when you hear Dean stumbling over his words, “Wait – how do we contact you?”

“Really?” Sam whispers as Dean slaps the folder against his brother’s chest.

“Why?” you question, glancing back at them curiously.

His lips twitch as he thinks of his response, “To let you know the job’s done.”

A knowing smile crosses your face as you open the door to the SUV, “Call Garth – he can get me the message.” The look of defeat on Dean’s face is almost comical. “After all, he’s my contact.”

2012

It’s official – Tony Stark will be the death of you.

After the events of New Mexico with Thor, he’s going above and beyond to showboat. Fury has tasked you with him temporarily – his idea of a joke – you should get to know Stark.

However, keeping Tony Stark in-line is about as easy as herding cats.

You’re at the end of your rope with him, so an information drop is exactly what you need to get away – even if it’s for a little while.

You open the door to the small diner, glancing around for Garth as you walk inside. It’s not unusual for him to suggest grabbing lunch during a drop. You recognize the face sitting in the booth instantly and you can’t help but laugh as you slowly approach the him. A plate with a burger and curly fries sits on the table.

“Hi,” Dean greets, the smile on his face causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle.

“Unbelievable,” you shake your head. “What do you want?”

“I’m just here for the information – unless,” there’s a glint in his eyes as you slide onto the green vinyl seat across from him. “What do you want, Agent?”

You breathe deep, laying the folder on the table as your eyes dart around at the other patrons in the diner before settling back on him. Reaching across you pluck one of the fries from the plate, “Alcohol – that’s what I want, but that’s probably a bad idea.”

“Probably,” he agrees, but the boyish grin on his face says otherwise.

***

The sound of buzzing awakens you – your phone. Reaching across to the nightstand, your hand searches blindly but finds nothing. There’s a momentary pause in the buzzing sound before it starts up again and you groan in annoyance. You stick your head out from under the covers and look over the side of the bed, seeing the glow of the screen from the floor in front of the nightstand.

Grabbing it quickly, you put it to your ear, whispering as you answer, “Hello.”

“It’s about damn time,” Fury’s voice says loudly through the speaker and you instantly pull the phone away from your ear. It is too early, and he is too loud. “I need you to come in. ASAP.”

“Huh,” you sit up, wincing as you rub the base of your neck. You can feel the headache starting – fucking tequila.

“They found him,” his voice says quickly through the phone. “Frozen – he’s one giant ice cube.”

“Found who?” you glance over as the man beside you stirs, his hair messy and gold-green eyes heavy with sleep.

“Captain America,” he responds.  

You snap fully awake with a jolt, “What?”

“You heard me,” Nick says. “Get here – now.”

You drop the phone on the bed as you jump up, pulling your jeans on quickly, “Shit!”

“Everything okay?” he questions as you straighten your shirt.

“Yea,” you say quickly, tugging on your sneakers. “It’s work – I gotta go.” Glancing at the man still lying in bed as you gather the rest of your things, you give him a small smile. “Thanks for this though – it was great. I’ll –” You hesitate, not used to being on this side of the situation. “See you around.”

You open the motel room door, and he smiles at you one last time, “Of course.” The door closes behind you and he falls back against the pillows with a sigh. “Well, that’s a first.”

2014

“Where’ve you been?” there’s a tone in Steve’s voice, one he’s never had with you before.

Keeping your eyes fixed on the elevator doors in front of you as you push the button, you decide to keep your reply calm – casual, “Out.”

Once the doors open you step inside quickly, grimacing as you see him follow you from the corner of your eye. The weight of his gaze feels like a ton of bricks as the doors close and after a moment you finally jerk around to stare up at him.

“What?”

“Fury said you were on assignment,” his arms are folded across his chest, judgmental blue eyes baring down on you. He’s wearing a white t-shirt under a navy-blue jacket and khakis.

“Yea,” your tone is exasperated. “And?”

“You never wear perfume on assignments,” Steve responds with a knowing look, eyes narrowed slightly.

You shift uncomfortably, unaware he’d noticed, before you roll your eyes, turning away from the man, “Well, it’s my assignment – not yours.”

“I’m getting real tired of Fury’s secrets and side missions,” he says angrily. “I need a team I can trust.”

“Whoa – hey,” you turn back to him in surprise, raising your hands in defense. “Where’s this coming from?” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell happened on your mission?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head.

“Steve,” you wait for him to look at you before you continue. “You know you can trust me – right?”

He can see the pain in your eyes as you ask and he nods quickly, “Of course – I’m sorry –  I didn’t mean –” The words fall out of his mouth and he tries to make it right, giving you a smile. “It’s just been a day. Really – I’m sorry.”

He lifts his hand up, pinky finger extended. More of an apology than words between the two of you and you smile as you wrap yours around it, “Okay.”

2015

You trace your index finger lightly along the scar-like marking on the inside of his forearm, saying quietly, “This is new.”

“Yea,” he takes a deep breath and you feel his chest rise against the side of your cheek. “Long story.”

Lifting your head from his chest you eye him suspiciously, “Is that why you called?”

“I lost a friend,” he says quietly, staring blankly at the ceiling. You understand now why he reached out, after all, you ended up calling him after Coulson died.

The words come out hesitantly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t –”

“Hey – no,” reaching for you as he rolls towards you. He pins you to the mattress in a matter of seconds, gold-green eyes inches away from yours, staring at you intensely. “I didn’t come to talk.”

“Well, if you needed –”

“I know,” the words are hot against your lips as he brushes his mouth against yours in the slightest touch. You lift your head, pressing your mouth firmly to his, needing more, but the sound of your phone buzzing from nightstand makes you groan, and his lips smile against yours. “You should probably get that.”

You shake your head, then pepper kisses along his jaw as you whine, “Nooo.”

Dean reaches for you phone, glancing at the screen before he hands it to you with a smirk, “It’s Captain Spangles.”

You sigh before answering, “Hi Steve.”

“You’re coming – right?”

“What?” your voice is strained, mind elsewhere as Dean’s lips travel along your collarbone.

“Tomorrow – the new recruits,” Rogers clarifies. “Have you got any of my messages?”

“Yea.” You haven’t. “I’ll be there.”

2016

After Germany, you’re so angry with all of it.

Mostly at yourself.

For waiting too long.

Everywhere you look reminds you of Rogers.

So, you leave – ending up in the same place you always do when things go bad.

When everything around you is broken.

Because this can’t be broken – it was never whole to begin with.

Dean had recognized the look in your eyes immediately, because he’d been there before.

“Do you want to –” he manages the words even as you try and silence him with your mouth. “Talk about it?”

You plant both hands firmly against his chest before you shove him hard against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs, causing him to grimace, yet smirk at the same time. “No.” It comes out as more of a low growl than an actual word.

“Okay then,” his voice low as he nods his understanding.

2018

“Howard,” Steve says his name quietly, staring at you from across the lab.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat again. “I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t know how.” Watching as he places his hands on his hips, you add. “I never told Tony either – Fury did.”

His glare lands on you angrily, “And if he hadn’t – what – we still wouldn’t know?”

“No,” you respond, thinking on it. “I mean – I don’t know Steve.” He shakes his head with disgust. You turn, pressing your palms on the lab table as you lean forward, dropping your head between your shoulders. “I was a lab experiment - created with Howard’s DNA. I never knew my mother or him. When I was five, Coulson found me. He was a new recruit then, and they thought all of Hydra was gone, but we know they’re never really gone.” Turning back to look at Steve, you see the sadness in his eyes as you continue with the story. “He saved me – placed me with a family under Fury’s orders.”

“That’s why you joined S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he comments quietly.

“Yea – I mean, my father,” the term comes out strangely. “Howard founded it and it felt like one way that maybe I could get to know him. Plus, the whole super-secret spy aspect is a real selling point to a kid who loved Kim Possible.”

Steve has a look of confusion at the reference for a moment before he exhales slowly, “So, Germany – that’s why you stayed.” There’s an almost sudden realization that washes over him. “Because Tony’s your brother.”

You bite the inside of your bottom lip as you nod, “Just like you fought to save yours.”

“What the hell?” Steve’s face changes abruptly to one of shock and confusion. It takes a second for you to realize he’s looking at something over your shoulder.

You turn and see the monitor across the room, the news broadcast showing the giant alien ship above the city.

The beginning of the end.

2020

Information drops aren’t what they once were.

After the snap, there’s still the occasional situation that requires outsider expertise and you still pass that along to the Winchesters, but things are different.

The whole world has changed and while you and Steve may be more complicated than ever before – he needs you. Still like a lost puppy after grief group.

He was the captain, they had all followed him that day and less than half of them came home. Steve took that loss harder than anyone else with the exception of Tony.

So, you help in whatever capacity Steve needs. Even if it’s picking a fight over the most trivial of things just so he can yell and let off steam. You take it, because you’re his friend and the two of you have lost too much as it is.

You bring Natasha in on The Shadow Project what with Fury and Coulson both gone, someone else needs to know in case anything happens to you.

“Why not just bring Steve in on this?” Romanoff questions you as the large screen across the room tries to make connection on a video chat.

“Well, well,” Dean’s face appears on the monitor with a smile as he leans back in his chair. “Look who it is.”

Natasha quirks and eyebrow as she glances from the screen over to your face, noting the slight look of embarrassment there, “Oh – okay.”

2023

When he opens the large door to the bunker, there’s no hiding the surprise on his face.

“Hi Dean,” your voice cracks as you speak.

He’s never seen you like this before.

Broken is a sight he knows all too well.

This is different though, and it feels like someone gut punched him, knocking all the breath out.

Defeat.

“I lost them,” you say quietly.

***

Dean leans back in his chair as you finish telling him everything, “Where’s Steve now?”

“Returning the stones,” you respond.

“You don’t think he’s coming back?” his eyes watch you carefully.

“When he wouldn’t let me use the stones to at least try and bring my brother and Natasha back,” you shake your head with a sigh. “I – I said some pretty hurtful things. I doubt he comes back – I wouldn’t.”

Dean takes deep breath, tapping his index finger on the wooden table, “Death is tricky.”

“But it’s not permanent,” you say quickly. “You said so yourself that you and your brother have died before.”

“Yea – but that was different,” he responds.

“You have friends that are angels and you have the spell to get into hell,” your tone is past desperate. “Isn’t there some kind of deal I could make?”

“No,” his response is adamant. “Absolutely not.”

“Dean,” you stand up in frustration. “Please – this isn’t fair.” Walking past his chair you ask. “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s gone to visit a friend,” he says calmly.

“I know you’d do whatever it takes to get him back,” you say as you turn to face the back of Dean’s head. “I’m just trying to do the same.”

“I’m sorry, maybe there’s another way. When Sam gets back –” Dean feels the sharp stab in the side of his neck and his body reacts instinctively as his hand grabs for the source of the pain. “Sonofa.” His hand grips yours tightly and gold-green eyes look up at you in betrayal as you pull the syringe away.

“Forgive me,” you say softly as your other hand cups the side of his face. “I don’t have that kind of time. It’s just a sedative.”

“And if you die,” Dean’s voice is barely audible. “Would your brother want that?”

“He’s got a family – a daughter,” you blink back the surge of emotions threatening to overcome you. “I was forced to grow up without my father. I won’t put my niece through the same fate.”

The sedative finally kicks in as the weight of his body begins to lean against the table. You ease his head down against the wood and gently place a kiss on his temple before you head off down the hall for the storage room. It’s been a few years, but you remember seeing a drawer marked for spells and you know there’s a one in there that will take you straight to hell.

Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

You just hope once you get there you can negotiate some sort of agreement with whoever is in charge to bring back both Tony and Natasha.

4 Days Later

“How?” the initial shock has worn off and Tony is casting a suspicious glare in your direction.

“I have a few connections,” you reply nonchalantly.

“In what?” the look on his face is incredulous. “Resurrections? You brought me and Natasha back – how?”

“The Shadow Project – ever heard of it?” you fold your arms across your chest.

Tony looks intrigued by this information and he leans against your bar, “No, go on.”

“It’s classified, Fury assigned me to it before the Initiative was started good,” you respond. “That’s my connection.” You move passed him to your refrigerator. “Now, can you just be glad you’re back? Maybe go spend time with your family?”

He turns around as you pull a bottle of water out and close the door back, “You are my family.” You look over at him with a small smile which he returns. “But I know what you meant – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watch him leave, hearing the door close behind him and you start down the hall to your room. The loud knocking from your apartment door stops you and with a sigh you turn around.

“Seriously – Tony,” you say loudly as you approach the door. “We can talk more about this later.” Opening the door, your eyes widen in surprise because Tony isn’t standing there.

“No,” Steve glares at you. “We need to talk.”

It’s the angry look on the face of the man standing beside Rogers that worries you the most, because he’s the only one who could know what you did.

Dean’s voice borders on a snarl, “Now.”

[pocketfulofrogers]

To New Beginnings

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: You earned your way to Intelligence, but suddenly Jay begins to question your every more. Or, Jay’s an ass and it takes him just a minute to figure how bad he’s messing up.

Request: Reader likes Jay, but he’s very cold and distant. When the reader gets tired of it, she blows up on him in front of the team with a cute ending. @fofisstilinski​ 

Notes: No warnings, really, few cuss words. Requests are always open!

It happened so quickly- these things usually do.

Kevin had just breached the front door when he called out a runner near your position and suddenly you regretted skipping the gym this past week. A man in his late 20s, brown hair, average height - was that a scar on his right cheek? The chaos from your ear piece momentarily distracted you. Local gang tattoo on this left forearm

Adam called out an additional pair that sent him and Kim East on Cedar, hopefully away from other civilians.

You however, were not as lucky. Loud music perked your ears from what you had hoped was only a backyard get together, but the familiar nostalgic dinging from a carnival game made that unlikely.

There are aren’t many things better than a good block party, though you had wished they’d picked another day.

You had him- you swear you did. Feet pounding the pavement- reverberating in your teeth, breath heavy in your chest. The scrapes on your wrist from the chain link fence you had just jumped were barely an afterthought in the back of your mind.

You were closing in by the second.

Then he rounded a corner, cut through an alley and disappeared in the crowd, his sweatshirt left in a puddle near a trash can on the street. His Glock most likely tucked in his waistband. There were far too many people, but still you tried to scan the crowd.

That’s when you heard the gunshots.

Kevin’s voice bellowed out over the radio.

“Officer down.” Cut through the ringing.

In that moment you decided to turn back for your partner rather than look for a man you’re not sure you could even find, let alone get down safely, without traumatizing and endangering a neighborhood of unsuspecting civilians.

Had your instructor from the academy been there to time your sprint, you’re sure you would’ve broken some kind of record somewhere.

When you approach the back door, there’s glass everywhere and a few chunks blown out of the walls giving way to half rotted wall bearings. The smell of gunpowder mixed with something… unpleasant hangs in the air, but you continue forward. Your weight shifts to the balls of your feet and you keep your gun drawn, body low as you search the house.

Harsh voices draw you towards the front of the house. Peaking around the corner of the kitchen, there’s a suspect in the living room with a gun by his side, clutched tightly in his grip, standing before Kevin. Jay is laying a few feet away from him, still, and you feel sick.

“Put the gun down.” You order.

“Y/N, we’re good, you can go. Me and my friend are just talking some things out.” Kevin’s voice is tight, his jaw taught and pupils wide.

“Sorry, Kev, can’t do that.” You tell him and turn your gaze towards the man. “Let’s get that gun on the ground and then get you out of here.” His hand twitches and you steady your aim in response. “It’s not worth it, man. Come one, we got SWAT five minutes out and they’re not going to be as nice as we are. So, let’s just…”

You reach a hand out to try and take the gun, but he raises it towards you instead, his eyes wild and darting between you and the door behind you.

“Don’t come any closer!” He yells.

“Hey man, if your gonna point a gun, point it at me.” Kevin shifts his weight to draw attention and you take the small distraction to get closer.

He’s able to talk the man into lowering the weapon at least to his side, a small compromise that still leaves you both unnerved, but the sound of leaves crunching under the boot of a uniformed officer outside spooks him into raising his gun again. This time with the intent of pulling the trigger.

You put two in his back before he gets the chance.

**

A superior takes your statement and you are promised that today will be ruled a clean shoot. Adam and Kim return with their runners and you can’t help but feel guilty for losing yours. Kevin raises a brow and wordlessly conveys that there’s no use in falling down that rabbit hole, but it’s hard not to.

You take a deep breath and try to shake it off before meeting him by the patrol car he’s leaned against. Jay’s voice carries in behind you and you have to bite your lip to not laugh at the sight of him swatting at the medics just trying to do their jobs.

“He gonna make it?” You scrounge up an ounce of humor.

Kevin turns his gaze back to you and smiles. “Bullet hit the vest, few bruised ribs. I’m sure-“

“What the hell was that?” Jay comes charging up, slightly less intimidating as he winces when he breathes. “You came back here when there was an armed suspect loose?” He yells.

You’re stunned, mouth slack and eyebrows drawn together. “I’m sorry, what-“

“We called out a runner and it was your job to get him. Not come back here and play superhero.” He bites.

“Don’t talk to my partner like that, Jay, she just saved out asses.” Kevin defends you.

“Yeah, how about a ‘thank you’ or a ‘nice work’?” You add.

“Oh, I’m supposed to congratulate you for failing to do your job? Who knows what that suspect will do now? That’s on you.”

“He got away. Yeah that blows. But you and my partner were taking fire with no back up. I came back to, yes, save you rather than aimlessly look for a man who disappeared, risking the lives of about a hundred people. That’s what I’m trained to do.” You’re fuming now, Kevin’s assurances that you had made the right call are doing nothing to soothe you.

“This is Intelligence, Y/N, not patrol. If you feel like you’re out of your depth or that you were moved up too quickly, talk to Voight.” He leaves you there, both you and Kevin’s mouths agape.

**

“I don’t know where he gets off coming at me like that!” You yell, again, but Kevin still voices his agreeance. “I mean, he’s not the sergeant, he wasn’t even lead. That was you!”

Kevin says something he hopes is supportive, but it borders on patronizing. Yesterday’s blow up was not the first and he’s become increasingly convinced it will not be the last. You plop back down on his couch, your beer sloshing with you, and sigh. He smiles, again, a little patronizingly, at you as you thread your fingers through a blanket and you pout.

“Things were going so well.” You say softly.

That was news to Kevin. Save the last two weeks, the only interactions he had seen between you and Jay didn’t go past a bit of witty banter. Did he know you had a thing for him? Of course, he’s your partner, but Jay has always been harder to read.

He waits patiently for you to elaborate and when you don’t, he rolls his eyes. “Are you really going to make me ask, Y/L/N?”

You groan obnoxiously and throw yourself back. “We weren’t dating or anything, but we were kind of seeing each other?” You can feel his eyes burning into you and can almost feel the ‘partners tell each other everything’ speech encroaching, but you continue before he has the chance. “We were waiting to see where it would lead before telling anyone.”

Kevin huffs. “And where did it lead?”

You’re quiet for a moment. “To my place. A few weeks ago.”

“For?”

You throw a pillow at him. “No details, Kev, don’t be a perv. I fell asleep and when I woke up a few hours later, he was gone. Now he won’t return my texts and he’s being an absolute ass.” Kevin is uncharacteristically quiet. “I don’t really know what to do.” You add quietly.

**

“We’ve got analysts combing through his GPS history, but, so far, no leads on where he might be keeping Mia.” Adam’s face drops as he looks towards a picture of a young woman, graduation cap tilted to the side, smile as bright as the sun shining behind her.

Of the four girls who had gone missing, three had turned up dead. Mia Edwards, a recent engineering graduate, was the most recent and she was quickly running out of time.

You place a hand of support on his arm as you move past him to get a closer look at the board. Jay makes some kind of comment, but you’ve learned to tune him out these days. There’s something within the information delicately placed in front of you that is screaming for you to see it.

“Three isn’t enough to confirm a definite pattern, but these abduction sites,” You run your finger along the addresses, “fall within 5 miles of Little Italy. And if you…” You trail off for a moment and grab a city map, placing a dot for each location where a body was found. The math is messy, but you draw a circle “If you take the crime scenes, that narrows it down to here, around Roosevelt.”

“Oh, did your years on patrol teach you this?” Jay asks sarcastically.

“No, the FBI from that seminar you skipped did.” You shoot back and he glares in response.

“There’s a low-income housing unit that was condemned six months back in the same area.” Adam announces from behind his computer. “Fits the area and there’s been calls about squatters.”

“Because it’s empty houses.” Jay interjects. “Everything about this guy says he keeps it close to home. On the other side of town. What if you’re wrong?” He presses. “If you are, and we bust down those doors, we waste hours of her life. That’s on you.”

You’re not sure what it is. Jay had been coming for you the last handful of weeks, second guessing your every move, being an over obnoxious, hard headed, sanctimonious ass hat and you had yet to let it shake you. But something about the way he’s looking at you right now in this moment has your blood boiling for the first time in weeks.

It’s as if he truly believed you would endanger an innocent woman in an act of showing off. As if you didn’t really care about doing your job and saving her. For you, that’s the last straw.

“I’m right.” You start slowly, darkly. The calmness in your voice a thin veil for the daggers hidden within. “Just like I was right about last weeks suspect being a woman, that cop being dirty, that kid being innocent, that mother still being alive, and coming back for you and Kev.” You slowly take a few steps forward and Kevin can’t get the image of a tiger about to kill it’s prey out of his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, or why you seem to think wasting this teams time by nit picking my every suggestion rather than doing your job is a good call, but if you don’t stop coming at me like this,” You take the final step that places you directly in front of him and pull your shoulders back. “We’re gonna have a problem.”

He matches the intensity in your eyes and you wonder for a second if you’ll have to really lay him out in front of everyone.

You lower your voice to barely above a whisper. “You want me gone, Jay? You want me to transfer units? You’re about to get it.”

“Enough!” Voight bellows. “I’ve had it. You two used to push each other to be better, but now you’re just wasting our time. We will go sit on that development while you figure out how to either work together and stay in Intelligence, or if I do need to start a transfer.”

**

“I’m not leaving.” Jay says defiantly.

The team had left in a rush leaving you and Jay sitting in unbridled tension from your respective desks. Your jaw was clenched, his arms were crossed, fists balled at his elbows.

You roll your eyes. “You sound like a petulant child.”

“Says the girl who got us kicked of the case.” He mumbles.

“Are you serious right now? I- god- what is with you?!” You explode, rising up to pace the walkway. “I mean, Jesus Jay, what? What could I possibly be doing better right now? Please tell me because I honestly cannot do this anymore. What did I do to make you not trust my judgement or my skills? Because you certainly didn’t have a problem before we slept together.”

For the first time in weeks, Jay Halstead is speechless.

“Yeah, go ahead and do some inner soul searching for an answer. I have done nothing, nothing, but support this team and do the best job I can.”

He’s silent still and you can’t tell if his lack of words is more or less infuriating.

He stares at his hands for almost two hours before he says anything.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s barely above a whisper. In fact, you can’t really tell if you heard him correctly over the paper balls you were shooting into the trash. When you look over at him and he’s still watching his fingers, you chalk it up to your bored and desperate brain making up something.

“I’m sorry.” He says again, louder. This time he’s looking at you, really seeing you, and it’s hard not to feel exposed under his gaze. “You were right.”

A phrase you thought you’d never hear him say.

“What do you know of the detective who had your desk before?” He asks. He’s calmer now, yet still poised as if he’s guarding something.

“Erin Lindsey? Not much, really. Heard she was a great cop. Good instincts, even better in a fight. What? You think I don’t deserve her spot or something?”

He shakes his head with a small smile before it fades. “You’re just as good, if not better.”

“Then what is it?” There are no harsh tones in your voice, no clipped vowels, just simply the need for some kind of answer.

“I almost proposed to her.” He says simply. That was definitely not what you were expecting. “We started dating, things got serious and I got my mother’s ring, but before I got to ask her, she left. Just packed her stuff and left Chicago. It just left me with a lot of questions.”

You’re stunned into silence and Jay smiles sadly.

“I guess it gave me more problems than I thought, things I never dealt with. So that night, with you, it came back.”

“What did?” You ask softly, moving closer to him.

“That fear and sadness I felt after she left. I guess it was easier for me to channel it into anger, and, in turn, direct it towards you. For that, I am sorry and I swear to never let it happen again.”

“It was one night, Jay, I wasn’t professing my love.” You try to stay soft in your approach.

“But I felt something I hadn’t felt since then.”

When he meets your eyes, that’s when you see it. The hurt man scared of love and willing to do what he has to protect himself.

“So, you started to push me away.” You add for him. It’s not an accusation, rather an observation.

He nods. “But you’re too good, too kind to let even a dick you hate get left behind by you.” He wipes the corner of his eye, catching a tear you had missed.

To his surprise, you grab his hand and sigh. “I’m not her, Jay, you cannot punish me for things she did. And I don’t hate you, I actually don’t think I can. I care about you and while I can’t promise you that we won’t break each other’s hearts, I can promise you that. I truly, deeply care for you.”

“So, we just pick up like the last few weeks haven’t happened? Y/N, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. If you are willing, though, I think there are some things that you and I can work through.” His eyes perk up and he radiates hope. “But you have to put in the work.” He begins to nod eagerly. “I’m serious, Jay. You cannot hold her against me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He grips your hand in his tighter, thumbing the back of your hand.

“Okay.” You say softly

“Okay?”

You raise a brow. “Yeah, if you’re done being an ass.”

He eyes you carefully until you burst into laughter, a loud, contagious sound he can’t help but join in with.

“Oh, thank god.” Kevin sounds from behind you.

Adam joins him. “I thought we were going to have to start picking sides.”

“Alright, alright, enough. Tell me, was I right?” You ask.

Kim smiles at the sight before them, you and Jay’s hands still intertwined. “Mia is on her way to Med. She’s going to be okay.”

“You’re amazing.” You hear jay whisper from behind you.

“I know.” You quip, turning back to him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen.

[dhwty-writes]

Surprise the Child Surprise

It's my birthday and I can't celebrate because of Covid. So, I decided to treat myself (and you guys) to some self-indulgent birthday fluff. The last scene is a bit emotional but besides that nothing bad happens, no angst, no drama, just 4,6k words of happiness. Enjoy! 

Summary: Jaskier and Geralt almost forget Ciri's eighteenth birthday and Jaskier just won't have that. He plans on celebrating it as it should be. Everything goes horribly wrong - until it doesn't. 

Read on AO3

Jaskier woke with a start, cold sweat pooling at the base of his spine with the dreadful feeling that he had forgotten something.

Now, that wasn't unusual, not really; he forgot things all the time. Only this time his mind cleared with the horrible certainty that it was something important.

He sat up, heaving in the mild spring air while he took stock of his surroundings, desperately searching for whatever he had misplaced. It wasn't his bag, that was beneath his head, and it wasn't his lute either, that was tied to Roach's saddle – which meant that he hadn't forgotten his witcher either (not that that happened often, but, to his shame, it had been an occurrence in the past). They hadn't forgotten Ciri either, she was sleeping peacefully on the other side of the fi- ‘wait a fucking minute.’

"Geralt!" he hissed quietly. The witcher grunted in his sleep and blindly groped around to pull his lover close. Jaskier jabbed him sharply in the ribs. "Geralt!"

"What?" he snapped and opened his eyes, alert for any danger. "What the fuck, Jaskier?" he growled when he noticed that they were the only ones around. "It's the middle of the night."

"I know!" Jaskier whisper-shouted. "Be quiet or you'll wake Ciri!"

He groaned and flopped back down. "Don't I deserve the same courtesy?"

"Shh!" he made again. "It's about Ciri!"

"What's about Ciri?"

"It's almost Belleteyn," he informed him solemnly

"So?"

"So, your child surprise is about to turn eighteen years old."

"Shit happens," Geralt grunted and turned to his side. "Lie down and go the fuck to sleep, Jaskier."

"What do you mean, shit happens?" he gasped, doing a very poor job of keeping his voice down. "We have to do something about it!"

He sighed exasperatedly and rubbed at his temples. "We can't stop a birthday, bard. Now get back here, so I can sleep."

"I don't want to stop it, idiot!" he hissed. "I want to celebrate it."

"Jaskier!"

"What?"

"Not now!"

"Right," he mumbled dissatisfied and moved to lie down beside him in his outstretched arms. He sighed content when Geralt wrapped himself around him, and even threw one leg over his hips to keep him in place.

And while Jaskier's body settled down, his eyes drooping tiredly, his mind wasn't quite able to shut down. There were a lot of austerities on the Path, Jaskier knew. His foot started tapping nervously. In the past twenty-eight years he had learned to live with the blisters on his feet and the reappearing holes in his clothes as well as the occasional dry spells, both in a literal and a figurative sense. But not celebrating Cirilla coming of age? That surely went too f-

"Jaskier," Geralt groaned.

"Yes, my dear?" His foot stopped twitching as he focused on the rumbling in the chest behind him.

Geralt nuzzled his neck gently. "You're thinking too loud."

"Right, I'll just stop doing that!" He rolled his eyes. "Great idea, Geralt, why didn't I think of it myself?"

He groaned wordlessly and tightened his grip on him. "Please," he whispered, "mercy. Anything to let me go back to sleep..."

Jaskier sighed. "Just keep holding onto me?" That usually helped him ground himself. He knew that Geralt was right. It was no use driving himself crazy now. He only hoped that his tireless mind that knew no rest would come to the same conclusion soon.

In the end, he must have fallen asleep, for Jaskier woke the next morning with a terribly foul mood that usually came with not enough rest. Ciri was joking around with him, completely unsuspecting of anything and Geralt didn't stop shooting him reproachful glances that he translated as ‘told you so’.

They broke camp a bit slower than normally but soon they were back on the Path again. Ciri galloped off on her mare a few times while Jaskier and Geralt enjoyed a more leisurely pace, Jaskier using her absence to continue conspiring with a hushed voice: "Geralt," he hissed and leaned over to him.

Geralt rolled his eyes and pushed at his shoulder. "You're going to fall off," he chided.

"Pfff, fiddlesticks!" he scoffed. Still, he sat upright in Pegasus' saddle again. "We need a present," he determined. "A good one."

The witcher shook his head disbelievingly. "I still don't know what all that fuss is about."

"She's coming of age, Geralt!" He threw his arms open wide, tugging sharply on the reins in the process and Pegasus snorted in annoyance. "This is a special day!"

"What are you two talking about?" This time Jaskier truly almost fell off.

"Ciri!" he exclaimed while trying to regain his composure. "Melitele's tits, you scared the living daylights out of me!"

She snickered mischievously. "Twenty-eight years on the Path, Jaskier, and still that jumpy. By the looks of it I'll soon be the one protecting you!"

"Well, that only speaks of your prowess with that sword of yours," he answered light-heartedly. "But I assure you, I won't be in need of your defence in the near future."

Geralt snorted. "You couldn't handle anything more dangerous than a very determined squirrel."

Jaskier gasped in mock offence and swatted at him while Ciri laughed. "How dare you?" he bristled. "I could handle a very determined rabbit at least! Besides, I trust that you will burden yourself with the duty to rescue me from any further possibly lethal situations. Just as you did in the past."

Geralt hummed quietly but it was a soft hum, the kind that always managed to set butterflies loose in Jaskier’s stomach. ‘After all these years,’ he thought happily, ‘I am still the luckiest man on the continent.’ And how could he not, with his quiet witcher by his side, who showed his love daily in a thousand ways that never required words.

"So, what were you talking about?" Ciri asked curiously and brought him back to the present.

"You don't want to know," Geralt grumbled the same moment that Jaskier winked exaggeratedly and said: "Oh, nothing, dear."

She wrinkled her nose. "Gross," she declared and spurred off again.

As soon as she was gone, Jaskier shot Geralt a pointed look that said as much as 'Do you understand why I wanted to talk about this at night now?' and the witcher sighed.

"Fine," he conceded. "But no dramatics."

Jaskier gasped and clutched his chest dramatically. "I would never!" A wide grin spread on his face. Secretly, he had been making plans for months. He already knew what gift he would present her with, he knew what cake he would order in a bakery. He even knew a nice quiet clearing with a lake in the area where he had once deflowered a fair maiden but now it would be perfect for the birthday celebration of the Lion Cub of Cintra – who he really should stop calling Cub, now that she was a woman grown, come to think of it. With the xenovox he even could invite the rest of their little family.

“Jaskier…,” Geralt growled as warning but it only made him grin wider. He was sure that everything would go just perfectly. 

~*~

"This is horrible!" Jaskier croaked and sniffled.

"Come on, Jaskier," Geralt said softly, "it's not that bad."

He coughed violently and clung to his lover. "I'm sick, Geralt," he lamented in a whisper, the loudest sound he could manage, "I'm sick and can't sing. This is a catastrophe as terrible as there ever wa-" The rest of his tirade was drowned out in another fit of coughing.

"Shhh," the witcher made and rubbed his back soothingly. "Don't overexert yourself. And stop talking, you're only making it worse."

"You sound entirely too pleased with my miserable condition."

"I assure you; I am not. I prefer your singing to your whining. I mean it, though. Stop talking."

He rolled his eyes and shot him a look that said as much as 'as if that's ever gonna happen'. Judging from Geralt's snort the witcher found his own joke hilarious, too. "You're horrible!" He swatted at him. "I am lying on my deathbed and-"

"I assure you; you are not."

"-you are still treating me badly. I don't even know why I put up with you!"

Geralt smirked. "I've been asking myself the same thing for the past three decades..."

Jaskier let out a strangled shout and punched him weakly in the chest. The witcher only laughed and responded with a kiss. 'I guess it does have advantages to have a lover who can't get sick,' Jaskier mused.

"You're cute," Ciri said fondly as she stepped through a portal onto the clearing.

"Ciri!" Jaskier exclai- well, tried to exclaim and whispered instead. "Oh, I am so sorry that I am in this wretched state today of all days," he said and tried to scramble to his feet only to be promptly pulled down by Geralt again. "Stop that, you donkey arse, I'm trying to wish your daughter a happy birthday."

"The sentiment is very much appreciated," Ciri told him and squatted down beside him, "but I am not the incapacitated one." She smiled softly and held out a vial. "Got you medicine. Drink up, Jaskier."

He scowled angrily which undoubtedly resulted in a ridiculous pout, but didn't try to resist too much when Geralt uncorked the vial and held to his lips. He did complain, though; it was one of his greatest strengths after all. "That tastes like piss," he lamented.

Ciri laughed and arched an eyebrow. "And you know what that tastes like because...?"

He winced. "That's a story for when Uncle Lambert gets you drunk the first time this winter."

Geralt's grip on him tightened. "No, he won't."

"Sure," Jaskier drawled and winked at Ciri who grinned excitedly. 'Just you wait,' he mouthed and made grabby hands towards her. "Can I give you your annual birthday hug at least?"

"That you can!" She wriggled closer and batted Geralt's hands away. "Scoot, you can have him again, later. Right now, it's my turn for the best hug on the Continent."

Pride welled up inside him when he heard that as if he had just won the Oxenfurt bardic tournament. And even though he was not willing to admit it there was a tiny tear in the corner of his eye when he pulled her close. "Happy birthday, Ciri," he whispered, the tears stealing his voice as much as his ailment. "I'm so, so very proud of you, cub."

"Thank you, Jaskier," she answered, her voice just as heavy as hers.

It felt nice and Jaskier allowed himself to sink into that feeling until- "Who are you and what are you doing to my daughter?" the sharp voice behind him startled him and he tried to scramble away.

"Yennefer, what the fuck?" he croaked hoarsely.

The sorceress just laughed and even Geralt snorted amused. "Gets you every time. What is that, a knee-jerk reaction, or-!"

"Oh, ha ha, very funny," he rolled his eyes only to be pulled into another hug.

"Oh, shoo!" Ciri said and held on tighter. "I'm not done here yet and I'm the birthday girl. Besides, I'm his as much as I'm yours."

'Huh,' Jaskier thought as he closed his arms around her again. ‘Whatever she means with that.’

To his even bigger surprise, Yennefer agreed: "Yeah, we did a pretty damn good job raising that little rascal." There was a tiny pause. “All three of us did.”

Geralt hummed and closed his arms around him again. 'Oh,' Jaskier thought as he realised what they were saying and there was no stopping the tears now. He had never thought himself as part of Ciri’s chosen-few of educators doubling as parental figures. ‘And yet,’ he thought, ‘here we are.’ “Are you serious about that?” he whispered quietly enough that he hoped Yennefer didn’t hear.

“Sure am,” Ciri answered and squeezed him tightly.

"Are you crying, bard?" Yennefer mocked, but there was no true edge to her voice. "That's pathetic."

He sniffled and raised his middle finger in response. The sorceress laughed and Ciri slowly let go. She got up and walked over to her to receive her birthday wishes, too. Jaskier used the time to get comfortable in Geralt's lap again.

The witcher had already congratulated her early this morning when Jaskier had still been certain to meet death on the damp forest floor somewhere in Kovir of all places. After ten pathetic minutes of his whining, Ciri had taken pity on him and opened a portal to go get medicine somewhere. He hadn't asked where but knowing her mother — or rather any of her parents — there was no way there wasn’t some level of illegality involved.

"So, I guess we're staying here for today?" Ciri asked, turning towards them again.

"That was the plan anyways," Geralt mumbled.

"The plan?" Ciri asked disbelievingly. "You had a plan?"

"Now come on, Cub, that would hardly be the first t- yeah, shutting up," Jaskier mumbled as he saw the three pointed glares directed at him.

"Please," Ciri mocked, "you don't do plans. None of you."

"That's untrue," Yennefer chimed in, "we do, in fact, do plans.”

Jaskier added: “Alas, they’re always deferred by fate.”

“They’re shitty from the start,” Geralt concluded.

They all shared a hearty laugh which ended in another coughing fit from Jaskier. Geralt fell silent as once and glared at him angrily. "If you don't stop talking now," he growled, "I'll gag you."

Ciri and Yennefer gagged in unison. "Gross," Ciri declared. Ridiculously, he was relieved to see that. 'Come on, Jaskier, she's not a completely different person just because of one stupid day,' he reminded himself. But when Geralt squeezed his hand, he knew that he was not alone with his thoughts.

"So," their daughter asked as she sat down against a log, "what was the plan?" She looked at them expectantly.

Geralt 'hmmed' and made no apparent attempt to start talking. Jaskier rolled his eyes but determined to elude a smelly rag shoved into his mouth – he had no doubts that the witcher would go through with his threat – he kept his mouth shut and began jabbing him in the ribs with his finger instead while he gazed at him pleadingly. "No," the witcher said sharply but began talking at least: "Jaskier wrote a song for you. Wanted to serenade you. Pity he can't do that now."

Yennefer snorted. At least Ciri smiled sympathetically. "I'm looking forward to hearing it. Once you can hold a note again."

Jaskier hit Geralt sharply in the ribs with his elbow and made grabby hands.

"Will you be able to keep from singing, if I hand you your lute?" the witcher asked doubtfully.

He nodded eagerly and Yennefer shook her head, laughing loudly. "Liar."

Geralt patted Jaskier's head but made no attempt to fetch him his lute. Defiantly Jaskier crossed his arms. Not that anyone of the present people cared for it.

"There's also cake," Geralt continued. "Jaskier insisted."

"Where?" Ciri arched an eyebrow. "With the horses?"

"Hmm."

"Ah. I think you mean to say there was cake." She pointed her thumb at where Roach was happily munching out of- the black saddlebag the cake was stored in.

"No!" Jaskier croaked and jumped to his feet. "Bad horse!"

But before he could dash over to her, Geralt caught him by the scruff and pulled him back down. "Bad bard," he growled. Yennefer and Ciri didn't even try to hide their laughter.

"This is the worst birthday I've ever planned," Jaskier moaned woefully. That alone sent the two women into another fit of laughter and once Geralt clamped his hand over his bard’s mouth and they resumed their discussion with wide gestures (Jaskier) and pointed glares (Geralt) they were positively howling with laughter.

"So," Ciri said, once she had recovered. "You wanted to stay here for a whole day doing what? Listening to one song and eating a cake?"

"Of course not! Who do you take us for, Ciri?" Yennefer asked. "I wouldn't dream of punishing you with one of the bard's mediocre songs as your only present."

He showed her his middle finger. Again.

She smiled brightly and continued: “There’s a banquet table waiting for you behind another portal. With proper cake.”

He held up his second middle finger, too, for good measure. At least until Geralt pressed his hands down again.

"Show her," he told Yennefer and Jaskier sat up a bit more. Geralt had refused to provide him with so much as a hint for whatever he had planned for Ciri's birthday, but judging from his secretiveness it had to be huge.

"Are you sure?" the sorceress inquired. "It was your idea, after all."

The witcher just shrugged, and then Yennefer shrugged, too, and handed Ciri a velvet pouch. "Happy birthday, ugly one," she told her with a soft smile.

The girl looked at them questioningly before opening the little bag. She turned it upside down and Jaskier leaned forward to get a better look. They gasped in unison when the silver chain slid out. "Where did you get that?" she asked disbelievingly as she traced the wolf's head on the medallion with her thumb.

"Found it years ago," Geralt said simply as if he hadn't just gifted her an incredibly rare artefact of his school. "Was waiting for the right moment. Gave it to Yen for safekeeping. Thanks."

"Well...," the sorceress said, "I might have... modified it."

"Yen...," Geralt said reproachfully but she only raised her hands in innocence.

"Don't worry! None of the original qualities are lost. I know this stuff. After all, I've done it before." She tapped the amulet around her throat. "Remember Ellander, Ciri?"

She nodded, her eyes still on the medallion. "I couldn't look away from it."

Yennefer smiled. "This is just the same."

She raised her eyes. "Geralt..."

Jaskier felt him shake his head behind him. "It's nothing. You're a witcher, aren't you? Trained in Kaer Morhen like the rest of us. You're meant to have one."

Without any sort of warning, Ciri flung himself at Geralt, trapping Jaskier awkwardly in the midst of their hug. "Thank you," she said over and over again, "thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you."

Jaskier uncomfortably cleared his throat. "Umm- D'you want me to?"

"Shut up, Jaskier," they said simultaneously. Ciri let go with one arm to point at Yen. "And you! Stop pretending and join the hug!"

"Now that's no way to talk with your mother-" Ciri and Jaskier groaned and rolled their eyes. "Fine," she decreed. "Just don't think too much of it." But then, to Jaskier’s astonishment, she came over and hugged them, too. 

Ciri sighed happily. "This is the best birthday I could have wished for," she confessed. "And the best family, too." And, in the end, that was all that mattered.

Yennefer stayed for the rest of the day but when they all woke up on the next morning, she had already said goodbye to Ciri and vanished without a trace. Geralt insisted on waiting for another day but Jaskier wanted to hear none of that. He was feeling well enough, he claimed, and they could resume their travels.

~*~

It took a week for his voice to fully return and another for him to find a quiet moment to finally give Ciri her present. Geralt had gone off to- do something, he was sure and he approached Ciri nervously.

"Hey," Jaskier said softly and sat down next to her, gently nudging her with his shoulder, "watcha thinking about?"

"Hmm," she made stoking the fire until sparks danced up into the night. "Just... stuff."

He nodded. "I imagine," he agreed but made no attempt to press her further. She wasn't like Geralt in that aspect. He knew she'd open up eventually.

After a while she asked: "Do you think we'll ever know peace?"

"The continent? I'm sure of it."

"No," she shook her head. "We. You, me, Geralt. Yennefer and Triss. Lambert and Eskel. All of our little family, I mean. Do you think we'll ever have a place to call home? Where we won’t have to fear?"

Jaskier laughed at that. "Who knows? There's nothing certain in life, little cub, you should know that. There might come a day when you and Geralt sheathe your swords. A day when the last portal closes behind Yennefer. Or there might not be. There's something that won't change, though, and that's a promise."

"And what's that?"

"Wherever you go, my songs won't be far behind. You'll never be alone on your Path. And that's a little bit like home, too, isn't it?

Ciri smiled. "I guess it is."

"Now, I believe I promised you a song, didn't I? Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, Jaskier, I very much would."

"Great!" He shot up and wheeled around, lunging for his lute. He slung the lute strap over his shoulders and bowed with a flourish that made Ciri laugh. "Ladies, gentlemen and noble steeds," he announced, "I present to you my newest creation: The Ballad of the Lion Pup." He hesitated for one moment. "Just- this is for your ears only, Ciri. I mean every word of it, but no living soul must ever hear it. Do you understand?"

“I know.” She nodded solemnly and tipped her head back to gaze at the stars. "Just sing it already, Jaskier."

"Right..." he said and gingerly plucked the first few notes of the song. Then, he began to sing:

 In a time of dark and blood and war

There was a princess fair.

And though she knew the woes of life

She did never despair.

 When the White Sun rose above our heads

And the Lioness did fall

The Lion Cub then quickly fled

To escape from Nilfgaard's thrall.

 For years she ran, for years she searched

For a wolf as white as snow.

And when they met, their fates entwined,

It was the end of all their woes.

 Up north inside the White Wolf's den,

The Lion Cub did grow.

Amidst the stone and winds and ice,

New life and love did rise.

 And though she had arrived a Cub,

She never left as that.

The Cub did turn into a Pup,

Part of the White Wolf's pack.

 The White Wolf was the first to love,

His destined Child Surprise.

And so, the Wolf both strong and rough,

Held the young girl when she cried.

 The wise Grey Wolf taught what he knew,

As he'd done for all his life.

So, in the Den life grew anew,

The pack again did thrive.

 The Strong Wolf and the Small One, too,

Loved their Pup just as much.

For after years of grief, they knew,

The glory of a laugh.

Then there joined into the fray,

A lonely Griffin in his nest

At night they loved to sing and play

Whatever they loved best.

 In sorcery she was well trained,

For witches she knew two.

And so, the Pup a sister gained

And then a mother, too.

 Do trust that this whole song is true,

For I was there, as well.

And I loved her 'til the end of time,

So, believe the tale I tell.

 In a time when our whole world burned

There was a princess fair.

But she was loved and loved in turn

So, she did never despair.

 The last notes drifted off into the night and Ciri looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

There was a quiet harrumph from the edge of the trees and Jaskier spun around. "Geralt!" he exclaimed happily, taking in the fond expression on his face. "Did you listen?"

"I did," he confessed quietly opening his arms for the bard. He quickly set his lute down and hurried over to him.

Ciri got up with an exaggerated sigh and roll of her eyes. "Ughh," she said and grabbed her bedroll, "I'll set up camp elsewhere."

"Don't go too far!" Jaskier called after her.

"Don't be too loud," she replied, obviously doing her best to sound annoyed and failing miserably. "I fucking hate it when you're loud."

Jaskier snickered quietly and turned to loop his arms around Geralt's neck. "Just like her father," he whispered against his lips, "feigning annoyance to mask her softness."

"Hmm," Geralt made and kissed him. "I'm doing a better job, though."

"No, you're not. And I love you for it." He pecked him on the mouth.

"I also seem to recall another father of hers who's horribly dramatic. And whines three days about splinters up his arse after sitting on a log I told him not to sit down to."

"That's not fair." Jaskier wrinkled his nose. "You see, you don't have all the facts."

"Which are?" the witcher asked and pulled him closer.

"That I happen to be endowed with a rather shapely arse," he replied grinning cheekily, "which you aren't allowed to touch if there's so much as a sliver of wood in it."

"Hmm," Geralt made contemplatively and lowered his hands to grasp his backside firmly. "I'm not convinced. Might need to get a better look at it."

Jaskier laughed loudly and dove in for a kiss. "That you shall have," he promised and tugged him towards their bedrolls.

When they laid side by side afterwards, as naked as the day they were born with tangled limbs and mingled breaths, Jaskier sighed contently. "So," he said, pillowing his head on Geralt's chest, "some review? Three words or less."

"Shapely arse indeed," he mumbled, his voice heavy from exhaustion and bliss.

He slapped him lightly. "Not that, you idiot witcher. The song. Did you like it?"

"Hm." Geralt buried his face in Jaskier's hair. "Loved it. Love all your songs."

"Really? Because I seem to remember some comment about my singing and its resemblance to a fillingless pie."

He groaned. "Fuck, Jaskier, that was years ago."

He snickered. "Always love to tease you about it."

"I'm aware." After a short pause he added: "Can I ask you something?"

"Always, darling."

"In your song... It's not like the songs you sing about me. It's not about... her deeds."

"No," he agreed, "it isn't."

"Why"

"Because the people needed reminding that you were their protector all along. With Ciri they need reminding that she is more than just their protector. As does she herself." He propped himself up on one elbow and gently stroked Geralt's hair. "In a century or five or ten, stories of her will fade. They won't remember the colour of her hair, or her favourite food or that she fell in love with that lovely girl three months ago." Geralt shot him a bewildered look and he sighed. "Though I can hardly hold it against them if her own father didn't know."

Geralt scowled. Tired as he was, it was the most adorable effigy of a pout. "I still don't understand."

"They will always remember her heroics," he explained patiently. "That's not what's important, though. The important thing is that she's loved and loves in return. And that she never forgets it."

"Hmm," he hummed and frowned even harder. "I love you."

Jaskier blinked stunned for one moment. 'Oh Geralt,' he thought as soon as it hit him, 'you only needed to ask.' In his mind there were a thousand odes to Geralt's love already, a myriad of songs that had never been sung, never out loud, at least. Not even when it had been only him had he dared to do that, but now- "And I love you, too," Jaskier sighed contently and snuggled closer. He kissed him on the cheek. A promise, a sacred oath between them, understood without ever saying the words. 'I'll sing of your love, too.'

His mind was already drifting off to sleep when he heard Geralt whisper: "There's peace in your arms for me. There's a home in your songs. With you, there’s nothing I fear."

With a content smile on his lips, Jaskier slept. Peacefully.

[heartshyuck]

Nighthawk

Pairing: Mark x reader ft. The slightest mention of Renjun

Genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers but like also an established relashionship?, slice of life, soulmate au.

Synopsis: Nighthawk's were reoccurring thoughts that only seemed to strike you late at night and to Mark that's exactly what you are, until you show up in his days.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: character death, car accident, mentions of blood and swearing

The image of your face was burned and branded on the back of his eyelids as he lay there on his bed with the moon half hung in the sky being his only company. His mind occupied with the constant pressure of trying to think of anything else other than you. You, who he was totally clueless as to who you were although the light and warm tingling sensation ran course through his body which he then diagnosed to be familiarity and nostalgia.

To how that was possible was another that dominated his thoughts. As the frustration built, clearly shown through his aggressive fidgeting and the constant sighs that left his lips, Mark jumped up with a much louder groan muttering under it "who are you?". A rhetorical question of course, he wasn't expecting any answer from you directly, so he turned to the next best thing. Google.

Quickly yet almost full of anger, he tapped away at the keyboard searching "can you see a person's face without knowing who they are" to his disappointment he was met with the results of 'Prosopagnosia' of more commonly known as face blindness. If anything, Mark was facing the exact opposite of that, he was hyper aware of the face that colonised his mind.

Hours later however he fell down the rabbit hole of dream analysis, most experts say faces seen in your dreams or before falling asleep are faces you've seen before, whether that be the person you see every morning on the otherside of the road running to catch their bus or even a person you passed by for a second, not thinking anything of it until you meet again in the alternate reality of your dreams. This was a strong possibility and he was convinced this was exactly how he knew your face, until he found himself on reddit.

The descriptions of the hazy blues that streak across the faces, the fact that it feels all too real as the strong feelings of nostalgia wash over you in waves and the way he could slowly make the face change into different expressions as if he's seen them a million times before. There was no explanation for it, everyone else experiencing the same thing also having no clue what to call it or not having enough information to diagnose themselves with something. However as night slowly surrendered to the day, letting the light seep in, sleep also over took Mark as well as his thoughts about you. Leaving you forgotten until you strike him again in the depths of the night.

The next night Mark found himself in the same predicament as the night prior, the uncomfortable feeling of seeing your face as he closed his eyes. Only being uncomfortable because of how familiar it was, it was exactly that which scared him. How he knew you without knowing you, how he knew you had a scar next to your left eye but not knowing how it got there, how he knew you bite your bottom lip sometime to which he presumed was out of nervousness but not knowing why you were nervous. It made him nervous to which he would express with an equally endearing habit of scrunching his face up and collaping onto the bed behind him.

Every night a bit of you was revealed more and more. As of now Mark could see your torso now too and each time you seem to be wearing a different outfit too, he most definitely recognises them all and he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't find you attractive. Soon these still portraites of you began moving, Mark would relive moments in time that never happened yet have felt like the millionth time he's seen it.

Today he sees you standing with the most beautiful bunch of a dozen roses and bright smile meeting your eyes and a blush that almost matches the colour of the roses. The same tint finds it's way onto Mark's face for a reason he can't quite comprehend, the butterflies that burst in his stomach, and for what? Is another question Mark doesn't have the answer to.

Soon you find your way into Mark's dreams, dreams that feel too real to be dreams. Dreams that feel like memories of another lifetime, he sees you both walking under the bright blazing summer sun that illuminated the clear blue sky. He intertwined your hands together as you both walked, feeling your welcoming warmth unlike the unwanted humidity that hung in the air, under the pathway decorated with pretty pink spring snow.

"You know they say if a cherry blossom falls onto you hand as you walk with your lover, your love lasts forever" he hears you say so sweetly it makes his heart swoon as you place your hand out still walking in the same rhythmic yet slow pace. Mark sees his own hand reach out for a petal but as if they are avoiding him on purpose, they skilfully dodge his hands. Now actively trying to catch a petal, Mark sees himself looking stupidly cute until you softly place your other hand in his hand, slotting your fingers between his and again he gets to hear your sweet voice.

"You can't try to grasp it because the stronger your hold, the more it will fall out and escape, things will fall naturally in place" you say now facing him, slowly lifting your hand to reveal the petal that had fell into your palm now in his. You leaned forward, lessening the gap between the two of you and placed your lips on his. Mark felt bliss that night, smiling in his sleep as he fell in love with his nighthawk.

As night comes round once more so does the thought of you, Mark now is back to googling. He quickly and again aggressively taps away at the keys searching the meaning of cherry blossom petals and there it is, everything you said. "If it was a dream, I should've known that already." Mark whispers to himself almost not believing what his brain is thinking. He sighs and cutely scruches his face up as he leans back on his bed. Only thoughts of you cloud his head so much so it drives him into exhaustion but still you manage to find your way into his dreams.

This time he sees you scavenging through his draws, he can hear small complaints out of your slightly pouted mouth. "You don't have enough hoodies" you whined slightly stomping your foot. A small laugh left Mark as his heart bloomed at the sight of your little tantrum "correction, I don't have enough hoodies for the both of us" he teased causing you to roll your eyes "how inconsiderate can you be, buying hoodies only for yourself" you argued in a much more prominent pout as you sat on the end of Mark's bed marking the end of your quest for a hoodie. Mark's heart could've burst right then and there as he pursed his lips trying to contain his squeal. "Your right it is inconsiderate of me" he reasoned as he pulled you by your legs closer to him. "Take mine" he said muffled by the warm fabric being pulled over his head and swiftly being pulled down onto your body. A smile beamed on your face, going from ear to ear just how Mark liked it. You wrapped your arms around him placing your left leg over his and pressed your body into his side, slightly squeezing him. His hand reached up to pat your head, fingers intertwining with strands of your hair as he twists and plays with them leaving a tingling yet soothing feeling on your scalp.

"I love you Mark Lee" were the last words Mark heard before the rude interruption of the morning sun beamed down and the painful beeps of the alarm rang through his ears flushing out the thought of you.

Later that evening, Mark finds the same hoodie from his dream. It never was a favourite of his but he finds himself wearing it a lot more, pretending your scent lingers on to it.

Again as if it was a ritual, Mark would find himself lying awake in the abyss of the night being swallowed by the thoughts of you. Mark now let his mind freely run to you without any hesitation he surrendered to the sweet thoughts of you. His consciousness left him and the consciousness of another life took over.

He's met with the smokey fog of blured windows, the harsh rain pelting down from the sky but your warm presence next to him as he drives down the long road that slowly unwinds in front of him only being revealed as far as the headlights allow. Your head resting on the window, your legs placed against your chest as you close your eyes to the soothing sound of the rain that mixes with the mellow music that plays quietly.

Mark reaches out to hold your hand rubbing small circles on the back of your thumb, your hand keeps his company as he changes gears. Your eyes open once you feel the car come to a hault and the feeling of Mark's soft yet slightly chapped lips place themselves on the back of your hand repeatedly kissing you awake. "Wake up love" Mark says in a slight grumble that sits in his throat from not speaking for a while, he clears his throat and reaches to the back seat to grab the black umbrella, getting out of the car to come round to your side.

You both stand arms around each other with the umbrella loosely held above your heads, the wind knocking it from to side to side. Rain hitting you from all sides with a chilling cold that contradictes the heat that radiates from your bodies, you stare out to the clear fields where the stars shower alongside the rain listening to the steady heartbeat that pulsed in Mark's chest. A calmness overcame you and you confessed "I think your my soulmate" but then you disappeared as his consciousness flooded back in, sweeping you away with the night once again. Mark groans as his heart swoons and aches for you, squeezing his eyes shut, attempeting to dream once more but as the moon sets so does his thoughts of you.

Exhaustion and fatigue are chased away the next night, when Mark starts thinking about how he doesn't know your name. In all his dreams he's referred to you by "love" or other words of endearment. Though the memories of the vivid dreams are patchy and every growing minute more and more slips away from him, he tries to scan over what he does remember and tries to relive the dreams in hopes of somehow finding out your name.

An exasperated sigh leaves Mark as he falls on to his bed in habbit of his frustration to how close yet how far you are to him. That night Mark doesn't dream of you, he doesn't dream at all as the groggy thoughts block and overcome sleep. He stays up watching the moon be replaced by the unbearably bright sun and it's then he prays to be surrounded by your comforting darkness all the time and as he finally places his head down to sleep wanting his consciousness to leave him like you leave him when day comes.

Yet this time you come back and Mark finds you, a small you. Sitting in a sand box with a bucket and spade, filling the bucket up to the brim with sand. Once finished you stand up dusting your legs off, of the sand that clings to your skin. You pick up the bucket bending backwards slightly as you slowly waddle over to your castle, shifting your weight from one leg to the other making big stomps in the sand until your foot gets stuck causing you to trip falling forwards. The sand explodes outwards and you fall after it, hitting the side of your left eye with the corner of the spade. The corner rips through the flesh and crimson beads of blood seep down your cheek until stopped by a tissue in the hands of a small boy. He holds pressure to the side of your left eye with his small and nimbly fingers while whiping the mix of blood and tear off your cheek with his other hand, he whispers sweet words of encouragement to you trying to steady your breath.

"Hey it's okay, don't cry" he says as he now holds your hand "it's gonna stop soon and then I'll go find your mum with you okay" he reassures you and the whipers leaving your trembling bottom lip slowly stop. "Hi I'm Mark, what's your name?" He asks you sweetly a bright smile stretched along his features which was the followed by sweet giggles that escaped his lips as he patted down your hair ridding it of sand. "My name's-". Mark jolts forward as he hears the loud ring of his phone disrupt his nap. "Aah shit" he growls, crawling out of bed not having time to process what just happened in his alternate subconscious, the memory of you slowly slip from him.

Mark runs down the bustling streets making his way to the cafe him and his friends agreed to meet for lunch. As he sits with his order his minds begins to wander as he loses interest in the conversations being held and as if it was a habit his mind runs to you. Trying so hard to think what the name was that you told him in the sandbox, he stares intensly at his muffin and you come to him. His nighthawk becoming a daydream.

He sees you crouching by the oven, tongue repeatedly running across your bottom lip as you as you devoure the cupcakes, that still had to rise, with your eyes. A smile finds its way plastered on his face as he can't seem to tell the difference between the adult you and the small child that he met in the sand box. "You know if you stare at them, the longer they'll take to get done. They're shy leave them alone" He teased you causing to roll your eyes.

You made you way over to the breakfast bar stools that Mark was sitting on and planted youself on his lap now staring at him instead. Mark's eyes widened and a faint blush rose up onto his cheeks, "don't tell me your shy too" you teased in a pout, inching your face closer and closer to his and the finally placing a chaste of kisses all over his nose and cheeks and then finally placing a long-awaited sweet kiss on his lips.

Marks heart swelled and ached but the sweet daydream was interrupted by Renjun forcefully shaking his shoulders, "hello earth to Mark" Renjun said prolonging his pronunciation waving his arm in front of Mark's face. "Oh sorry" he said straightening himself trying to look more involved in the conversations taking place around the table.

As Mark walked home later that evening he was met with the familiar sight of an archway made of cherry blossom trees, the sight made him think of you and unconsciously his arm extended, wishing a petal would land in his palm yet they still skilfully avoid his hand. A small smile graced his features as he fought the urge to wave his arms around and actively catch one. "everything will fall into place" he reminds himself.

Once reaching home Mark collapses on his bed straight away hoping to pick up from where he left, he wishes to meet you again in the alternate universe of dreams. As he dozes off he sees your figure wrapped in white lace, confusion sweeps his mind but the heaviness of his eyes win and soon he's surrendered himself to you once again.

"I do" are the words that hum through Mark's ear as the vision of you standing at an alter opposite to him in a beautiful white lace dress that hugs your figure perfectly, is what he's met with. Mark's eyes widen at the scene but he doesn't feel nervous, not at all. Instead he feels complete and feels such comfort and warmth, the way you look at him with a million stars in your eyes and as if he was your world makes him feel an unexplainable amount of love. His heart leaping and threatening to jump out of his chest. It's now when Mark can feel the desperation in his heart for the world to introduce him to his soulmate.

As the wedding bells fade out into the distance and the light of the moon shine down on Mark welcoming him back to the reality he dreads. His reality without you. The rest of the night Mark lays there, heart hurting at how he's in love with someone who he hasn't even met, someone who he isn't even sure exists. His whole body aches for your presence, aches for your touch. Every moment between reality and dreams blurs together and Mark's not even sure if any of this is real anymore as his nighthawk has left him in the swallowing abyss alone, his only company being the moon that hung halfway in the sky.

For weeks to come Mark didn't meet you in his dreams, he didn't meet you in his mind in the depths of night. He didn't think of you and now the constant aching has stopped but so did everything else. Mark felt numb and empty, no emotions could ever fill the void of the overwhelming amount of love he feels for you. You who he didn't know.

That was until he felt his heart ache from grief instead of love. The tears streamed down his face as he panted for air with both arms trying to hold himself up but soon to give way. The loud sobs escaped his mouth and he held his mouth tight trying to conceal the loud sound as he let more of his tears fall. Every dream would slip away from him no matter how hard he tried to remember but this time he didn't have to try. The moon wouldn't let him forget what he saw that night.

The image of you struggling to breath, the image of you struggling to keep your eyes open, the image of you being pulled out of the flipped car, the image of your own blood drowning you. It haunted Mark, instead of seeing your beautiful smile that caused your eyes to crease slightly everytime he closed his eyes, he saw you struggling. He never stopped crying that night, the tears would never get a chance to dry and his eyes would never get a chance to rest that night.

Days went past and Mark still hadn't been able to close his eyes, the growing purple bags were proof of this. What Mark hated most was that he felt broken for the death of a person he never got to spend a second with. He felt broken for the death of a dream but the love he felt for this dream was far from a dream. It was reality. The pain in his chest draws the lines between dream and reality but he still let himself dream, hoping you were his future and the dreams were his past.

So he gets up out of bed deciding today is when he starts his future. Walking under the same sping snow that fell lifetimes ago, a small and fragile petal elegantly swoops into Mark's palm. A small smile, that seemed so foreign to Mark now, manages to creep up onto Mark's face as he remembers your smiling face for just a small second. Yet as if his mind has be trained, it rejects you from his thoughts too scared of what he'll remember next.

He continues to walk down the familar road filled with familar sights, the same man that sits on the bench and feeds the pigeons. The same kids that run back from school, the same same cars that pass by at this time and the same cafe that always meets Mark at the end of the highway. The one that always welcomes him with the strong, bitter yet welcoming smell of coffee, the same beautiful sight of fresh blueberry muffins beautifully displayed but when he swung open the door, a dark brown mimicking the colour of coffee beans, he didn't expect to be met with the sweet sight of you. he didn't expect to see you standing on the other side of the counter at his favourite cafe. He didn't expect to see your beautiful smile when you perfectly placed the blueberry muffins out on display.

Yet the moment he saw, despite being surprised, he didn't feel that hammering in his chest or the disbelief that you weren't there because it felt so right, for the first time in Mark's life he felt certain. Certain it was you and certain you were the one. In that moment there was a spark which ignited a feeling so strong, a bond built over lifetimes and the only word that seem walked up to you, who welcomed him with a warm and welcoming smile. Ready to risk it all.

His nerves however got the best of him, his words trapped in his throat, the only sound leaving his mouth repeatedly like an idiot was "um". Your sweet giggles caused Mark's eyes widened as he realised how much he was embarrassing himself, thinking of how the hell he's gonna make his stupid self stop repeating um. He quickly slapped his mouth shut and while doing so he projected air down his throat causing him to choke.

You quickly grabbed a bottle of water handing it to Mark, he grabbed it and attempting to down the water as well as the caught air in his throat. After a few coughs he finally faces you while whiping away the few tears that threatened to fall. After a few seconds of staring at him wide eyed to definitely make sure he was okay you let out a soft laugh almost as if you didn't believe that he just chocked on nothing but air. "Well I guess I must be stunning if I caused you to suddenly forget how to breathe" you tease as a playful smile replaces your previous shocked and horrified face.

Mark shyly laughs, to you it may seem like he's embarrassed because of what just happened but truly he's more taken aback at how true your words are. "So what would you like?" You asked "A date" the words slipped out of Mark's mouth and judging by his expression you don't think even he knew those words were coming out. His eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth causing you to again sofltly laugh at the awkward yet endearing mess that was in front of you. "I meant one of those caramel and date cookies as well as an iced americano please" he whinced at how his own voice sounded unsure in what he was saying clearly indicating he was trying to save himself from the slip up but your smile only grew at the more awkward Mark got. "Here you go" you say as you pass Mark his iced americano and a paper bag which has him internally facepalming at the sight of it. "Thank you" he whispers not wanting to allow himself to continue embarrassing himself.

It wasn't until later when Mark left the coffee shop that he saw the black lines on the side of the cup that read "I'd like a date too" which followed with your phone number just below it, again he whinced as he remembered how his mouth betrayed him but it couldn't stop the grin blooming on his face as he repeated your number in his head again and again as if the numbers would run away from him.

A few weeks had gone by and you both had already gone on a few dates, the first one being a simple walk in the park whilst just getting to know each other a bit more. Despite being simple, Mark made a big effort in being romantic, he bought a bunch of pink tulips. "They are used to symbolise joyful occasions" he said shyly "since it's our first date I thought it was the best way to celebrate."

You smiled as you took them from his grasp, stroking the petals and admiring their beauty, "not a fan of red roses?" You teasingly asked, a bit surprised he didn't go for the cliché. Mark's nerves crept up once again causing to stutter as he explained himself, "um well I thought undying love was a bit strong for the first date" he said in a laugh coated in his nerves until your sweet laugh shook them off and caused a sense of comfort to surround Mark. "I think you're right, red roses are definitely for date three" you said in a teasing sarcastic manner.

Once the third date rolled round, there you were met with the dozen of long stemed red roses and that's when you were sold. You and Mark had started dating, constant little outings, hour long calls and non stop texting. Days of being together turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and in these months you've learned a lot about Mark. You've learned that he loves to cuddle, he's unbelievably awkward at times and that he really hates dates in his cookies. You've learnt that he snores in his sleep, that he loves watermelons and that he was unbelievably fidgety. You've also learnt to love all of them, some quicker than others.

You also noticed the moments you fell in love with the whole of Mark Lee. The exact moments in time where you can look back and say at that point in time, I was in love. Look back and say at this point in time, i felt loved.

You were in love and felt in love when Mark took you hoodie shopping. You hesitantly agreed to go to the mall with him, though you did only agree because he kept asking whilst you were asleep. You hated the mall, you hated how packed it was with people too close for comfort, you hated the hurried pace of it all and how you had to be skilful in dodging oncoming people who seemed to be blinded by haste.

"Why are we here" you in cried out dramatically, head flopping back whilst your lips formed a pout, Mark's heart lept at the sight and his hand, the one that wasn't intertwined with yours. Helping you navigate your way through the crowds of people, instinctively pinched your cheeks. "Aww, cutie" he cooed swaying your face side to side with his soft grip still remaining on your cheek. You rolled you eyes, swatting his hand away.

"Mark" you whines again in the same tone and manner hoping that this time you'd get sympathy instead. Mark's smile only grew wider at you cute antics, "we're here to get hoodies" he said as he pulled you into one of the stores. "You couldn't do this online? You dragged me out just so you could get yourself hoodies?" The words leaving your mouth sounding a little more annoyed than you intended for them to sound but Mark didn't seem to mind as it seemed like he had a good explanation. "Not for myself, for you too" he walked further into the store, holding different hoodies against and judged which ones he liked most. "Mark" you began to explain "I only like wearing hoodies that are yours" you moaned out "I don't want any of my own, I want yours" Mark only laughed at your complaints as he placed multiple hoodies over his arm "I already know that silly, I just wanted to see which ones would look good on you before I bought them and you steal them. That's why we had to buy them in store" He laughed heading towards the counter to pay and it was at that moment that your heart bloomed, the euphoric feeling of love pumping through your veins. The feeling of loving and being loved.

Another time was when Mark decided to stay over for the weekend, each day was filled with kisses and cuddles whilst binge watching movie after movie. You favourite moment however was when you decide to paint Mark a new face.

"Come on Mark stop moving" you huffed as you tried to draw a thin line of eyeliner on to Mark's eyelid. "I can't help it, it's cold and blinking is a reflex" he defended himself. "I don't blink when I do it" you counter argued whilst physically having to hold his eyelid still "you must be dead then" he deadpanned earning a hard slap again his chest causing him to laugh. "Ah stop laughing" you complained trying to replicate the wing on the other eye.

After Mark's laughing had subsided and you successfully held down both his eyelids, your subtle eye make up was done. "Okay open you eyes" you say exitidly holding a mirror up to his face for him to examine his eyes. "Whow! I look like you but better" he jokes as he checks him self out, earning yet again a slap on the chest and again it causes a fit of laughter to erupt.

You roll your eyes at settle yourself in between his legs and sit on one of his thighs as you attempt to put lipstick on a laughing Mark. The closeness of your faces is what makes him stop, he becomes hyperaware of everything around him. Like how your hand is gently holding his chin up for you to have better access to his lips, how you eyes stare intensly at them with a all too familiar desire. You look up to meet Mark's eyes that are peering down at you through the layers of his bottom lashes that are now accentuated with mascara. You see stars in his eyes, the sparkle and twinkle with the same desire. It's at this moment you comprehend how well Mark understands you with no words needed. So you close the gap, his slighly chapped coloured lips meeting your soft and raw lips. Sweet, loving and innocent kisses are all that's exchanged throughout that night, just sealing your growing love and adoration for each other a million times over.

"Thanks for helping me get the lipstick off but how am I gonna take the rest of this off" Mark says against your lips, a blush creeps up to your cheeks and you pull away rolling your eyes hoping Mark focuses on that instead and misses the crimson tint but he doesn't and pinches your cheeks softly.

"And this is how I tricked you into doing face masks with me" you pull out a bunch of facemask and lay them in front of Mark to choose. He rolls his eyes and poutes "this wasn't about making me look beautiful was it? This was about making me look stupid with these dumb masks" he whines as he picks up one mask packet to examine. "Hun, your beautiful all the time make up or no make up, so of course it's about making you look stupid" you tease as you rip open a packet and place the sheet mask on Mark's freshly washed face. "Your lucky i love you" Mark says with a furrowed brow and a cute pout as he sits in light blue pajamas and a bunny headband holding his hair back. "Mhm I know" is all you say in response as your occupied with placing your own mask on your face but the sudden contact of Mark's cold hands under your shirt causes you to flinch to the right as he launches his tickle attack on you. "Say it back" he whines as he continuously tickles your side, your laughter rings through the apartment "okay okay" you say through shaky breaths "I love you too" and those words instantly haulted the attack. "Good" Mark smiles and press quick peck onto your lips. You still look back at the silly pictures you both took in the small and confined space of your bathroom, the matching pajamas and the face masks and anyone could tell you were both so in love.

If you asked Mark he also had his own set of memories where he could tell he was absolutely in awe of you, where he felt so in love and felt loved. One that stood out to him, was last Christmas, it was another moment where he really couldn't tell the difference beween you and the little y/n that he had seen in the sandbox. The scenes were almost exact except sand was replaced with the fresh white snow. You lay there wrapped up in layers of warm clothing making snow angels, calling Mark out to come join you. Your eyes sparkeled and you held a smile across your face all day. Once Mark had reached you pulled him on top of you and wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him tight against your own body. Both of you gathering a lot of attention from the people walking by and your neighbours as your giggles filled the street, Mark didn't care for the stares and the slight giggles from across the road, he was in love and everyone on that road knew it. It was the moments when your face lit up and your eyes held a million stars when you opened up the beautiful emerald necklace Mark got you, that he knew he wanted to see that face his whole life. When he knew that there's nothing more beautiful than you and falling in love with you. He thought of having to lift you up just so you could place the star at the very top of the tree and then his mind wandered to having to lift up a little you instead to put the star up as you watched from behind.

Their was another moment that is one of his favourites but probably not yours. You were both walking on your way to the cafe it all started at, a year had gone by and the falling pink petals have returned. You placed your arm out and as if you walked out from Mark's dreams you uttered the exact same words.

"You know they say if your walking with your lover under cherry blossom trees and a petal lands in both your hands, you love lasts forever" you say smiling as you hold up the petal to show Mark. He smiles holding out his hand as well.

"So I've been told" he smiles at his hand as finally a petal falls into his plam, he grabs your hand encasing both petals between. "What who said that to you?" You ask wondering if Mark has loved anyone else before. It wasn't really a topic you talked about, the past was in the past. You didn't really care but you still couldn't stop your curiosity. "Just someone I loved" he smiled as if he was brought back to a happy memory. You pouted, unable to hide the growing jealously, yes you knew it was stupid but Mark was your first love and you hoped you were his too. All Mark could do was laugh at your jealousy and kiss your pout away. It's one of his favourite memories because it's the only time you've ever really been jealous and it's even funnier that you were jealous at your self, well past self.

One that you both did agree on was a simple moment, not sure of when it took place but the events of the day remain engraved in both your memories. You both were lying down in bed, ready to be put into your food coma just after lunch. You legs intertwined, arms around each other, you head buried into the crook of his neck as you gave him kisses here and there. Mark's hand was on your thigh occasionally rubbing it and drawing small circles into it. You lay like this for what felt like only five minutes until Mark tried peel himself off you. "Where are you going?" you whined out as you pinned his body against yours with much more force not allowing him to move. "I need to take a shower" mark laughes out and he again tries to move away from you and get up from the bed. "No, no just 20 more minutes" you try and bargain, "you don't need to have one now, you just ate" you say wrapping your legs tighter against his. "No i really need to go now" he protests and tries tickling you until you get off of him. You let out a fit of giggles but manage to cage his hands inbetween both your torsos and stop him from being able to move his hands "No, I'm not letting you go" you say in a pout with the cutest voice you can put on in hopes he'd stop and he does for a while until the brilliant idea pops into his mind. "How about you join me in the shower?" He says in a smirk you can feel against you cheeks as he presses a kiss down. "No I already had one this morning, I'm washing my hair again" you says snuggling closer to him "how about you go when I fall asleep?" You yawn. "Fine" he smiles and holds you until you fall asleep in his arms.

This moment remained so special because you both realised how much you loved each others presence. The feeling of being wanted by someone whilst wanting to be there, to Mark and you it truly was a amazing. It was a possibility of possibilities but that's the one that played out, maybe the universe finally was giving Mark his happy ending.

But what ending was ever truly happy?

You were on your way from work, to meet Mark and go out for dinner. The green man flashed and you walked out to cross the road. Mark could see the sirens on his way to meeting you, he could see ambulance and the police cars parked outside the cafe. His heart dropped at the familiar sight, but then his phone rang and you name flashed across the screen, a picture of you lying in the snow lit up his screen and he smiled slightly out of relief. "Hey" Mark's voice was horse and clearly he was shaken up still, "hello" an unfamiliar voice came from the otherside and Mark's heart yet again sank to his gut as the police had informed him of his nightmare.

Mark ran towards the ambulance and he climbed in. Running to hold your hand, he collapsed by your side. The blood dripping from your head was an all too familiar sight and it made Mark sick, his gut clenched and his heart ached. He could feel the unsettling feeling coming up his throat. You heart monitore beating rapidly and your chest rising and falling as quick as each beep. The sound getting louder and louder until it was the only noise he could hear.

The world began to fade out when he saw you breathe your last, you lungs had collapsed and so did his world. He saw you die for the second time, the pain never faulted though. His heart clenched in his chest and every part of his body was crying out. Tears falling uncontrollably as well as his shaking body, he held your now cold hands and prayed for you to come back to him. Like those nights he used to pray for you to enter his life, again he's asking you not leave like when you left once the day came but he couldn't stop you. Life is cold, unfair and you were always meant to leave him. You left him when the morning came as his nighthawk and now you leave him as if this was all just a dream but when you left, you left with his heart and the pain is what reminded him that this was reality.

He cried and cried by your side, praying for the comforting warmth you alway had, to come back. He's now here kneeling at your grave, eyes red with bags underneath indicating his lack of sleep. Red roses placed by your gravestone and it's here where Mark pledges his undying love. He prays one more time, he places his hands together "I pray our love crosses over multiple lifetimes, so i could fall for you all over again. For loving you this lifetime, just wasn't enough" he cries.

© (jisungiest) 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Stuck in the Middle with You (Part 3)

Bakugo X Reader

Words : 2280

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How? How has it already been five days? The two of you had fallen into a routine that was borderline domestic. Bakugo was an early riser so every morning you could expect to wake up to a fresh pot of coffee and some kind of breakfast. Pancakes were usually his go to. It could have been because you had a shit ton of pancake batter... or maybe he had picked up on the fact you really liked pancakes? 

After breakfast he would do some kind of workout, sometimes using your backyard to do sprints or using your lawn furniture as weights. You had to admit he was kind of... hot when he got all sweaty. You’d never let him know that though. He’d let it go straight to his head and you'd never hear the end of it, So instead of watching him workout like you wanted to , you would usually curl up on the sofa with your iPad and do todays crossword puzzle. 

Then next on the list was you binge watching criminal minds with him and you both would bet on who the killer was. You always won, which Bakugo always pretended to be mad about. He would call you a cheater because this was what you did for a living. You’d both bicker and complain but without fail you'd always end up leaning on him and he would always pull you closer. It was nice. 

Then when dinner rolled around he would do his best to teach you how to cook. That was the deal after all. He would growl under his breath every time you did something wrong but he’d never actually scold you. Instead he would patiently help you fix it. This was a whole different side to him you had never seen. To be fair you had really only spent time with him in school, and in group settings. Maybe this was normal one on one behavior for him... you’d have to ask Kiri. 

Tonight he was teaching you how to make home made sushi. He insisted it wasnt as hard as it looked but you didnt believe him. He said that about everything he had taught you so far, and so far it was all really hard. 

Cooking with Bakugo was... rather difficult. He was a great teacher and actually way more patient then you would have thought, it was just... his proximity. He was always right next to you or leaning on you, sometimes he’d take your hand and try and to guide you through the motions. As comforting as you found his presence, your brain would just shut down when he was that close to you. You’d find yourself lost in your thoughts. 

Today was no different. Right now he is right next to you showing you how to roll the rice paper and you started your usual spiral. Is he mad he’s stuck here? Does he like teaching you to cook? Wow he smells nice. Why does he sleep on your floor every night? Is it comfortable? Does his back hurt? Should you invite him to sleep in your bed? Would he think thats weird? Should you tell him to go back to the couch? Would that hurt his feeling? Wow his body heat feels great. Wait...  did he stop talking?

“OI! Earth to smalls! I swear you’re always so hyper focused when watching tv but it when it comes to cooking its like you check out completely! You’re the one who asked me to teach you how to cook.”

You blushed and gave him a quick shrug, “You're right I’m sorry. I am trying though. It’s just sometimes I get stuck in my own head.”

Bakugo softened a bit as he turned to lean on the counter and look at you, “Yeah I know. Usually I dont have a problem with it but the kitchen isn't exactly the best place for you to go all space cadet. It’s full of things that can and will cut you, burn you, and squish you....”

A vision of a first aid kit popped into your head and your lip quirked in a soft smile. You didn't mean to take peaks into Bakugo’s head but sometimes it was like his thoughts were screaming at you. Begging for you to see. It was almost like he wanted you to know that he would take care of you if you got hurt. “I’m a big girl Bakugo. If i get hurt it won't be any ones fault but mine. But I will try to focus a bit more, I promise.” 

You put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze, “So what’s next?”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes at you, indicating he didnt think the conversation was over. He picked up the finished plates of sushi and headed towards the kitchen table? “Now we eat and you tell me what you were thinking about.”

You blushed as you took your normal seat across from him. “Do we have to?”

Bakugo stopped mid bite, “Uh... yeah. Eating is kind of necessary to survival y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Bakugo smirked, “Well maybe I’d know you better if you actually talked to me. You were the one bitching the other day that you didnt know anything about me... come on... what had you stuck in the cramped little brain of yours a few minutes ago?”

You huffed as you threw your hands up in frustration, “Same thing as always! You! Its always you. Not in like a weird way or anything... I swear... It’s just... I dont know!”

You saw the faintest of blushes grace his cheeks before he composed himself, “What about me?” 

You took a sip of your water as you searched for the right words. “I just... I tend to over think every single aspect of my life. And right now... you’re basically the only thing in my life. I keep wondering if you’re happy here or if you’re miserable being stuck here with me. I wonder if you’re back hurts from sleeping on the floor and if I should offer to let you sleep in the bed. Then I wonder if that’s creepy. It starts as something so innocent and then it just spirals until I fall down the rabbit hole... completely lost in my own head.”

Bakugo nodded as he took another bite of his sushi, “Sounds exhausting... Why not just ask me instead, and save yourself the trouble?”

You eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, “I mean idiot.. instead of getting tangled up in wondering about me and my feeling just fucking ask... No. I am not miserable, I actually find your company to be pleasant. No my back doesn't hurt from sleeping on your floor but I can't say the same for my shoulder. No it wouldn't be creepy to ask if I wanted to sleep in your bed... honestly I think that's very sweet of you and as long as you were comfortable I may even take you up on it... There yeah see... problem solved.... anything else I can clear up for you?”

It was like this weird buzzing in your head that you hadn't even noticed was there had finally stopped. Was it really that easy. “Yeah actually... would you mind if I joined you during your workouts sometime? I’m not in as good as shape as I used yo be... but..”

“But nothing... of course you’re welcome to join. I won't go easy on you though. Never have and I won't start now!”

You bit back a smile as you mind wandered back to the all the times at UA you stood across from him during training. He scared the absolute shit out of you then. His intensity had really done a number on your anxiety. But honestly whether he knew it or not it had also helped you prepare for the real world. “I wouldn't expect it any other way believe me.” 

After diner you both got ready for bed and instead of watching tv in the living room you had decided to just go ahead and get in bed. You had expected him to stay up a little later but to your surprise he walked in a few minutes after and stood at the end of your bed, “So what's the deal? Am I sleeping on the floor or what?” 

You gestured to the empty side of the bed, “That side’s all yours. I’m sorry in advance if I accidentally hit you. It hasn't happened in a while, but I’ve been known to thrash around when I’m having intense dreams.”

He smirked, “As if it would even hurt. I’ll be fine. It’s your bed anyways, thrash around all you want.” 

You pulled out your iPad and started on a new crossword puzzle. 

Bakugo crawled in to bed next to you and took a peak over your shoulder. “May I ask what is with you and crossword puzzles?”

You shrugged, “They’re fun. They keep your brain sharp. They’re relaxing. And sometimes they are excellent distractions. I love all puzzles though. Not just crosswords. I love anything that makes me think. I mean look at my job. Sometimes I feel like I’m just playing a game of clue.” 

He scooted a bit closer and after a few minutes of silence he reached over to point at one of the clues, “ Nitroglycerin... thats the answer.”

You smiled, “I’d say I’m surprised but if you know about anything it’s about what blows up.”

He held a crackling hand close enough for you to see but far enough to not be dangerous, “Well I sweat the stuff, so of course I’d know about it but I’ll have you know I’m fucking smart. I’m not just a hot piece of ass. I got better grades than fucking Deku half the time. What app is that... I’ll show you.”

You giggled as you helped him download the puzzle page app on his phone and he immediately started to try and complete puzzles faster than you. You could hear him cursing under his breath when he would get stuck and once you caught him trying to take a peak at your screen. 

“Katsuki! I know you are competitive but I never would have believed you to be a cheater!” You hid your screen from his view as your eyes connected with his slightly embarrassed look. 

“I’m not a cheater! It’s not cheating! It’s just... reconnaissance...You had information I needed and I simply observed to gain that information...”

You swatted at him, “Oh you are so busted!”

He laughed “Shit calm down woman! You said it yourself! You fucking solve puzzles for a living! I needed all the help I could get!”

You sat up straight, “What happened to ‘I’m fucking smart. I’m not just a hot piece of ass’?”

He sat up too inserting himself into your personal space, “I am fucking smart! You’re just...” His voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, “fucking smarter.”

You were now on your knees jumping up and down, “Oh my fucking god! Did Bakugo Katsuki really just admit that someone was better than him at something?”  

He hid his face while you jumped up and down in celebration but when he looked at you he looked happy, “Yeah yeah, whatever smalls. You win this time but there’s always tomorrow.” 

You got back in you spot and grabbed the remote to turn on the tv, “I’ll probably beat you tomorrow too. But dont worry Katsuki... at least you’re still be a hot piece of ass..” 

He gave you a light shove as you picked something to watch. It didnt take long for you to drift off. In fact you had fallen asleep much faster than you usually did. And for once your dreams where pretty tame. No bad memories haunting you, no anxieties dragging you down. Instead you dreamed about the UA sports festival, and this time you won instead of Bakugo.

When you woke up you felt a pressure on your back as well as a vice like grip around your hip. You didnt know what was more surprising, the fact you woke up before Bakugo, or that he was currently spooning you. 

You cleared your throat and wiggled a bit to try and wake him up but he just groaned, “Uhhh y/n could you not wiggle your ass when I’m right behind you.”

You scoffed, “I wouldn’t have to if you were on your side of the bed.”

He squeezed you tighter, “I wouldn't be on your side of the bed if I hadn’t had to physically restrain you so you’d stop hitting me last night...”

You blushed, “I’m sorry... I did try and warn you...”

His eyes still closed, obviously still tired, “It’s cool, you calmed down as soon as I held you.”

You put your hand over his that was still wrapped around your waist, “Well I’m awake now Bakugo and I promise I won't hit you. You can let go.”

He just nuzzled further into your back, “Well I’m still tired and I don’t want to. You’re the perfect size for a teddy bear smalls.”

You tried not to, but you snorted, “Ground Zero needs a teddy bear to sleep?”

He froze before he shoved you almost off the bed, “Shut up smalls... I’m gonna go make coffee.... and lots of it.” 

You watched the muscles in his back as he walked across the room in nothing but a pair of shorts... fuck... you were in over your head. 

[paradise-creator]

Okayyyy. Seatbelt on, space cadet! I'm gonna take you on a loooong journey ✨

First of all hello again! I'm here to request for a Haikyuu romantic Haven Box if there's still a spot left. Take your time tho, I'm good at waiting 🙌🏻

here we gooo. so I'm an 159cm pansexual asian girl. I'm a little bit on the chubby side. I got long black wavy hair and I always let it down. People say I look rude and cold so they are afraid to befriend me at first (some even hate me for no reason.) I mean its not my fault that I borned with this resting bih face 😭💔 I love wearing dark colored clothes, high waisted jeans and Sneakers.

I do wear makeup, and my favorite lipstick color is red. Like a really bold red. That's like my trademark.

for personality, I'm an enfp, taurus, gryffindor (big yikes!); I think I'm a pretty openminded person. I'm not afraid to speak up and I will fight (both using words and fists) for what I believe in. People see me as someone confident and to look up to; Tho honestly I'm pretty insecure with myself. Like I find nothing good about me and got depressed easily. Its like I have this happy clown persona everytime I'm outside my house and once I go back to my bedroom by myself its all the sad clown hours haha. ooh- this is getting kinda heavy. 😵 But anyway I care about my family and friends a lot. Their happiness is actually more important than my own. So I'd do anything to help and protect all of them.

My hobbies are sleeping, singing and watching horror movies/true crime documentaries; and yes I got scared after watching those stuff so I ended up searching for some broadway musical 😂😂 I also love to play games; otome games, cause my love life sucks *coughs*

Some facts about me!!

I believe in soulmate. Just the thought that we all have someone created specifically for us is making me happy 🥺❤

I'm a touch starved person. So I like doing skinship and PDA. I just love being spoiled and showered with love I guess 👉🏻👈🏻

I hate spicy foods, cause it really burns my throat. and I also hate lizards. They are gross and weird 😭😭

I believe ghosts are real and I'd definitely want to speak to them someday. Just asking them how does it feel to be a ghost? Is there a way to help em stop being a ghost? (Only with the nice ghost of course) 👻💕

My favorite song is Helpless by Phillipa Soo and if that doesn't show how much of a Hopeless romantic I am then idk 😂😂

I love watching tarot cards reading.

I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers trope and I can't stop this addiction. Like aaaaa its cliche but I love em so much ashdjflgl

Okay thats it! I need to stop talking before my ask give you some real headache 😂 I wish all this information helps you write a little bit and not bother you in one way or another!! Have a great day and stay healthy in this pandemic situation 🙌🏻✨ see yaaaaa~☆

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ɴᴏᴡ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ

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Hello and Welcome my Starlight!

The Haven box includes:

- Match up

- Sun drop

- Old habits die hard

-  No matter what

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

I'd match you up with

Oikawa Tooru, The Grand King

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Sun drops

- Okay, when I read your description Oikawa popped in my head. So on to the great king we go!

- I also had an Oikawa brain rot when I decided to do your request but either way, I still think you two would look cute!

- Oikawa is the most realistic character in Haikyuu and I believe you two would definitely match

- You feel insecure? No worries, Oikawa already saw it coming and is going to give you compliments and gifts

- He may not look like it, but he is really observant

- You can't hide your feelings from this man cause he has been through that

- You both were deemed the power couple of the school

- He would ALWAYS always remind you to take care of yourself

- Both of you seem confident and really out going but in reality, you both are really insecure

- You both would understand each other

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Old habits die hard

- He almost NEVER calls you by common nicknames, except for Queen and princess

- Your nickname can be something weird like my little Alien or smth

- Whenever you watch a game, he alsyws gives you his extra jersey or his jacket

- He would randomly say I love you and if you don't respond, he'll pout

- You gave him a plushie and he named it after you

- Stargazing (Alien hunting) is his favorite type of date

- Study dates almost always ends up with one of you dead asleep before starting anything

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

No matter what

Oikawa Tooru is the grand king of Seijoh. He was handsome, smart, and all that. He was very athletic and observant. He gets along with everyone and anyone. He could get any girl to swoon to him but he is only loyal to volleyball and Iwaizumi. And that’s what people thought, but this king has fallen off his throne. He, has fallen in love and doesn’t know what to do. It started with the little things like seeing how she loves skinship or how she hates spicy food. He thought it was normal, he was observant after all. But as time passes, he realized that he might be falling. He tried and tried to avoid it, knowing that it might just hurt him in the end anyway. He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to fulfil what was in her heart because he would always choose volleyball. Oikawa had a girlfriend once, she left him because he wasn’t good enough, and he didn’t give her enough of his time.

Oikawa did not want that to happen again. He didn’t want his heart torn into pieces yet again. But still, he fell deep into the rabbit hole called love. And he hated her for it, becoming her enemy for no reason at all. But, fate seemed to be in his side. Soon enough the “mortal nemesis” relationship faded away and love soon blossomed. It wasn’t as smooth as most people would say but it’s still a beautiful sight to behold. The way Oikawa looks at her with so much love and passion, it’s breathtaking. The way that she would cheer for him no matter what, it’s alluring. A love so pure that it seems surreal and impossible. From then on, the great king knew that she was thee one. He knew that even if he was too busy, she would understand. He knew that she would always be by his side no matter what the cost is.

And he knew that no matter what happens, he would always love her. Volleyball may be his priority, but he will soon get out of it. Slowly but surely, the walls he built was crumbling away. Slowly but surely, his distant exterior grows into an attached and close koala. Oikawa’s train of thought was then shattered as he heard someone calling out to him. “Oi Shittykawa, why the hell is your face like that?” Iwaizumi said as he cringed at the sight. “Geez Iwa-chan, can’t a guy think about his soulmate in peace?” He then responded as he glared at the shorter male. “We have a game to play, Stupidkawa. And if you miss her so bad, why don’t you go to her at the stands and talk to her?” Iwaizumi said as he glared intently at his best friend. “I have a better idea,” Oikawa said as he stood up. His eyes wandered around the bleachers to find his one and only. And soon enough, he was able to see her long black wavy hair and her beautiful eyes. “Princess!” He yelled.

The female then smiled and waved at the player adorning the cyan colors with the number one. “Yes, my prince?” She yelled back. “Oh! My darling Princess! I love you with all my heart and know that no matter what, I’ll still be in love with you,” He yelled. The stadium awed at the interaction. Oikawa now found his one and only, his soulmate. And he would never let go, no matter what.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Author's note

Hello there! I'm so sorry for doing this quite late. Since exams and school and all that.

I hope you enjoy this matchup nonetheless! And I also made sure that the drabble was a bit different and unique to make up for it. Since I decided to try out a new way of writing.

[myarmsaretoolong]

Psych 101

@whumptober2020​ Prompt #11: Psych 101 | AltPrompt 14: Shot

Word Count: 1692

Warnings: Gun Violence | Blood

Synopsis: Tony and Peter are attacked at what should have been a simple press conference revealing the next heir to Stark Industries

Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3

“Alright, you ready for this, kiddo?” Tony said as he and Peter weaved through the halls of the Avengers Facility. It was a big day, Peter’s first appearance in a press conference - Spider-Man aside - and the announcement of a new heir to Stark Industries would cover the headlines for days.

Peter rhythmically clenched and unclenched his fists trying to work out his nervous energy. “No, not really. But yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “I’ll have your back in there.”

“Are there any rules I should know about? Like a ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ kind of thing?”

Tony hummed. “Well, firstly you gotta think before you say anything, but not for so long that it looks like you’re thinking. If you don’t like a question they ask, just turn it into a joke - or give me a nudge and I’ll handle it. And give them a flash of that Parker smile, it’s been known to melt hearts-”

“Yours included?”

“Yup,” Tony nodded once. “Mine included. How did you think you got here?”

“Hard work and dedication?”

“That too, I suppose. Oh, and don’t mention Spider-Man at all. Superhero stuff tends to lead down a rabbit hole and we both know you’re prone to rambling as is.”

Peter threw his arms in the air and sighed. “Great, well now all I’m thinking about is Spider-Man.” Tony chuckled. “Try not to overthink it. Remember, I’ll be beside you the whole time.” They came to a stop outside the door to the press room, Happy, vigilantly standing guard outside, nodded a greeting. “Last chance to back out, Pete.”

“No,” Peter said, shaking his head. “I can do this.”

Tony wrapped his arm over Peter’s shoulder and pulled him into his side, pressing a kiss to the bird’s nest he called hair. “That’s my boy. Now,” Tony turned his attention to Happy by the door, “If you’d do the honours, Mister Hogan.”

“Gladly,” Happy replied. Though he clearly tried to hide it, a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, just barely visible before he turned and cracked open the door. Before letting Tony and Peter enter, he stuck his head through the gap and surveyed the room. Seemingly content with what he saw, Happy stepped back and allowed the others the file through. “You’ll do great, kid,” he whispered, following close behind Peter, “I know it.”

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter muttered over his shoulder. He turned his head towards the at least thirty strong crowd all pointing flashing cameras in his and Tony’s direction, some even calling out questions. Tony strode to the centre of the stage at the front of the room, one arm held out to welcome Peter to join him, he did so, tucking himself just slightly behind his mentor for safety.

“Alright, alright,” Tony called over the racket of clicking camera shutters, an easy going grin on his face. “You’re gonna scare the kid, it’s his first time out here so cut him a little slack.”

“Tony!” Peter hissed, lightly punching Tony’s back with his hidden arm.

Chuckling, Tony held his arms out in a welcoming manner. “Thanks, everyone, for coming out here. Believe me when I say your bosses are going to love you come the morning prints, this one’s a real doozy.” A series of mutters broke out amongst the crowd, an excited buzz filling the room. “This,” carefully, Tony manoeuvred Peter to stand by his side, his arm secured over the kid’s shoulders. “Is a very special kid I’d like you all to meet. Peter Parker, my personal intern here at Stark Industries.”

Tony paused, allowing a few seconds as another flare of camera flashes started up. Peter held up his hand and waved. Noticing the quiet tremor in said hand, Tony squeezed a little tighter and rubbed his thumb in small, calming circles. Maybe the kid could do with a little pep talk. “He’s diligent, hardworking, and most importantly trustworthy. If my life rested in his hands, I wouldn’t have a fear.”

Peter smiled wide, but muttered through gritted teeth. “I don’t see how this is helping. Now it seems like I’m going to murder you.”

“I digress.” Tony clapped his hand twice against Peter’s shoulder. “The reason I’ve dragged the kid out here in front of you today is to announce him as the heir to Stark Industries.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the room exploded. Much the same as his other infamous press conference. Reporters leapt up out of their seats, stammering to yell their questions and jostling for the best photograph position.

That’s when it all went wrong.

Tony felt Peter’s shoulders tense under his grip. At first, he assumed it to be nerves, but then he noticed the way the kid’s head swivelled about the room wildly. Scanning the faces of every reporter in the room. Happy noticed it too and half stepped forward, half reached out to grab the door handle behind him. They both knew what this meant.

At the last second, Tony spotted the guy violently forcing his way through the crowd, something small and metal clasped in one hand. There wasn’t time to react. Not for Tony, at least.

The guy levelled his gun at Tony’s chest. Screams broke out, Happy’s included as he started across the stage. Peter slipped from Tony’s grip and turned, shoving his mentor down to the ground with a full bodied tackle. A horrific shot rang out. The guy fled.

Happy reached them first. He grabbed Tony’s shoulders and rolled him onto his back, already searching for the gunshot wound. Tony pushed his hands away and scrambled to his hands and knees, crawling towards Peter. The kid’s face already held the sheen of a layer of sweat and he clutched a hand over his abdomen. Blood seeped between his fingers and trickled to the floor where it pooled together.

The security team began shouting orders. Some chased after the attacker, while others fought to remove the press, most of whom stood in a state of shock. Some - monsters, Tony would later describe them as - pulled out their cameras and took photos. The image of a young man laying on the floor, weakly reaching out for his equally terrified father-figure would cover every news outlet the next morning.

Tony grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled the kid into his lap, his other hand pressed down over Peter’s wound. “Sorry, kiddo,” he whispered when Peter’s face curled up in pain. “I have to.”

“I think I’ve been shot,” Peter rasped. Tony couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke, or simply in a state of shock. Why not both.

“Yeah, Pete, me too.” Tony turned his head towards Happy who now stood, his phone pressed to his ear. “Hap?”

“Doctor Cho’s on her way down here from the mebay. She’s bringing a stretcher. Two minutes.” Happy relayed the information quickly before kneeling by Peter’s side. “Hey, did you hear that? Hang on a little longer, then Cho can dose you up with some of the good stuff.”

Peter chuckled wettly. Blood specking his lips. “I don’t think ‘Do Drugs’ is a message you’re supposed to give to kids.”

A tear slipped over Tony’s cheek, followed by countless more. He didn’t - couldn’t - let go of Peter’s hand, so let them fall without wiping them away. “Hey, we never said Happy was Uncle of the Year.” His joke fell flat, the delivery ruined by his voice cracking. Still, Peter laughed again, this time ending in a coughing fit. “Shhh,” Tony hummed while Happy rubbed circles of Peter’s arm. “It’s okay, Pete. We’re here.”

Doctor Cho burst through the door, a pair of nurses following her and dragging a stretcher between them. Happy backed up to allow her room, Tony couldn’t bring himself to move away. “Prepare the mebay for major hemorrhage protocol,” Doctor Cho ordered one of the nurses - who ran out of the room - before turning her attention to examining Peter. “Dammit,” she hissed, “there’s no exit wound. The bullet could have lodged anywhere inside his chest or abdomen. Help me get him on the stretcher, stat.” She looked up at Tony expectantly, he could only offer wordless bobbing of his mouth in reply.

“I’ve got it.” Happy stepped forward and helped Cho and the remaining nurse transfer Peter onto the stretcher. “Tony,” he whispered, gently pulling his hands away from the kid so Cho could apply a temporary bandage to stem the bleeding. “Let her work. She’s the best shot we have.”

Tony looked down at his blood stained hands, then watched as they whisked Peter away. “I-I was supposed to have his back.”

Happy nodded and started to guide Tony out of the room. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

* * *

After washing away Peter’s blood from his hands and changing into clean clothes, Tony stood by Peter’s bedside, Happy opposite, and May somewhere between the city and the Facility.

Peter’s hand twitched, and Tony instinctively reached down to take hold. Relief flooded his body when he squeezed back, weak, but there. “Hey, kid.” Tony gently brushed his hand through Peter’s hair. “You awake?”

“Mm-hm,” Peter murmured, his eyes fluttering open only to squint against the bright light. “What happened?”

“Someone attacked the press conference, do you remember?”

Peter reached up and splayed his hand over his face. “Right, yeah. The gun.”

“I think I owe a thank you for that.”

“It was nothing,” Peter said.

“Nothing?” Happy huffed disbelievingly. “Kid, you could have died. The bullet missed your heart by a millimetre according to Cho. It’s a miracle you’re not dead.”

Peter’s grip on Tony’s hand increased tenfold. Tony shot Happy a disapproving glare. “Nice work, Hap.”

“Uncle of the Year,” Peter laughed.

“Ah, so you remember all of it, then?”

Peter nodded slowly, his hand falling back to his side as he met Tony’s eye. “I guess I had your back, huh?”

“You sure did, Pete.”

“I love you, Tony.”

Tony’s heart filled with the same warmth it did every time the kid said those simple words, a genuine, not press-faked smile lit up his face. “Love you too.”

[zwiezraczek]

Hi!!:D I’m who requested the one with warren and omg I loved it🥺 wasn’t expecting that! think you could do 3, 10, 15 &17 pleasee? thanks love💕💕

Spread Your Wings [Blurb]

3. “Excuse me but... Why are you blushing?” 10. “I'd like to kiss you... Joking... Unless?” 15. “Smile for me, please.” 17. “You remembered? I love you so much!”

~~~

It was already late at night, the fresh breeze caressing your skin, slowly, delicately and you stood there, in the middle of the funfair, with your pink cotton candy in your left hand andholding your bestfriend by the right. Joy and happiness. Nothing else as you breathed the air in, surrounded by music and people. Your word became a mess when you learned that you were a mutant, your eyes glowing in the dark, because you could see through things, you could see through anything, you could read their minds. And that scared anybody, every person around you left, afraid of what you could have done to them with your power, and how weird you were. And only she didn't left. And your family. But mostly her.

But you refused to go to this school, it was something you always refused to do because you didn't feel the need to control your power: you controlled your power already, and you knew how to use it. It wasn't something that many needed, it wasn't a great power, a mutation allowing you to shoot lasers out of your eyes or to be a shapeshifter, and it was good as it were. Subtle but effective. As you needed it to be.

Something dulled the lights, instantly, and a wild wind brushed your bare shoulders, and made your cotton candy almost fall on the ground. You looked up, holding tight your bestfriend's hand, in case something was about to happen because of some rebel mutants – they still were some running the town. But instead, you saw white feathers all above your head. A sky full of fluffy and beautiful plumes, and a silhouette of a man. Not a Scarmouche, but Archangel himself.

You heard about him a countless number of time, about him and his golden locks and pearly green eyes. Him and his black leather jacket, contrasting with the pureness of his wings. Him and his attitude. Him. And he landed, not so far from you, making some people gasp with adoration and joy as he laid his eyes on them. You sure hoped he wouldn't mind if you didn't do the same. But your friend laid her eyes on him, as you tried to pull her into another alley. And then, your eyes met.

You saw how his eyes glowed from afar, locking them on you, and you only. You were not amused, at all, as you pulled your bestfriend's hand but she tried to pull harder, just to approach Archangel, the infamous Archangel you know. And you had to give up, walking towards him, biting your cotton candy as people began to gather around him. What a showoff, you thought. And as if he heard you, he turned around to face you, ignoring every soul around him.

“You should smile, smile for me please,” he asked you, as you fluttered your eyelashes in disbelief. Archangel. Archangel just asked you to smile. No way he did it. And yet, he did. Andyour bestfriend looked at you, smiling. No you weren't about to smile.

“Ain't got nothing to smile about,” you replied, still eating your cotton candy and looking him dead in the eye. You didn't even need to try, and you heard him thinking about how to tellyou that you had to follow him, because somebody needed you – you couldn't bother more to find out who the guy was. “And it will be a no,” you snapped, stepping back, now pulling your bestfriend out of the crowd as she whined and followed you.

“He's cute, what's wrong with you,” she asked, as she began to run behind you, a fainted smile on her face.

“He wants me to do things, and I don't want to do things,” you explained, marching quickly in the crowded alleys.

“Depends what kind of things he wants you to do,” she said, a teasing tone and you could hear her thoughts as you just grasped her hand harder, making her squeak. “Hey!”

“Don't you ever think about it,” you warned her and she began to laugh.

You hoped you would never see him again, for any reason. How wrong you were.

~~~

You fell down the rabbit hole. Stupid you. Stupid powers, stupid everything. And you worked with him, Archangel. Again, stupidity was apparently your last name. You could hear his thoughts, every-single-one of them – mostly lust, desire, hate, power, comments – and you cursed yourself for accepting this job, tracking people and entering their minds to gather information, for the underground mutant cluster.

And now, in that bar, trying to block out every thought you were exposed to, next to Archangel, you tried to find your target. Exhausted, you sat in front of the barman, asking for a drink. You closed your eyes, this became more and more draining, but more and more exciting, giving you money to enjoy whatever you never had, to compensate the fact that you barely saw your family and your bestfriend, spending your time with guys like Archangel. And you sighed. You never felt your power so draining and painful as right now, sitting in that crappy bar, a hand on your drink, and Archangel sitting next to you, with his beer.

“I'd like to kiss you,” he said, out of the blue as you opened your eyes, almost ready to punch him and have some feathers stabbing you, already happened, you were sure you could do that again. “Joking,” he continued, a flirtatious wiggle of eyebrows. Oh Lord... “Unless?”

“Stop it or I'll call you Archie for the rest of the mission, telling how a dumb ginger you are and I'll make it my own pleasure to break your hand against some ice,” you threatened him,as he laughed it off. He was never impressed by what you had to say to him, and that mostly pissed you off. But somehow, it was nicer than having people fearing you, or avoiding you.

“Okay, okay, got it,” he sighed, gulping the bottle down before putting his hand under his chin and looking at you. “Isn't it like, tiring, to hear people's thoughts?” His question seemed so dumb to your ears, but he genuinely wanted to know. His mutation was visible, and enabled him to do great things, not that yours wasn't, but it was subtler.

“It's fucking hell,” you replied, looking him right in the eye. “It's so hard to keep track of what whoever thinks, to block these things out after such a long period of hearing it all... I just can't find the right balance to have a healthy life right now,” you confessed.

“Never thought about the school”, he almost whispered. He always felt curious about it, but never let it slip, not Archangel, Archangel would never go to school, but Warren? Warren needed to learn more about himself, and all of that was fun, but the school seemed way more fun.

“Thought about the school, and the more time I spend with you, the more I want to go there.”

“... I should probably be offended right now,” he stated, as you smirked.

“You should stop thinking about me holding that cotton candy, please, I'm begging you!”

“You looked cute,” he casually said, his elbow on the counter. “Excuse me but, why are you blushing like this, y/n?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, feeling your cheeks burning. You heard these compliments in your head, you could hear all of them, you could hear any word he was thinking about you – and you knew he made sure you could hear only what he wanted you to hear – but hearing it aloud made your heart jump a bit. Pleasant surprise.

“All flustered,” he commented before turning back and immediately looking back at you, “we'll finish this later, now I have our target. Be ready to read some other minds than mine, y/n. There won't be as much compliments.”

You smiled.

~~~

You breathed in, and out. You were there, in the school. The X Mansion. Learning how you could block these powers, these intrusive thoughts you dealt with everyday since you joined Warren – he decided to drop his superhero name, useless as he said – and his crew. Joining Warren became the best and the worst idea you ever had, first because you had money to help your loved ones, second because you expanded your abilities, then because you had these awful migraines and finally because he dragged you into the X Mansion. And you were grateful for it, because thanks to him you could begin to breathe again, choosing whenever you wanted to hear people's mind, when you wanted to search inside their minds and how effectively you could do this without them noticing you. And Warren, oh Lord Warren, his wings were even more gorgeous now than when you met him, the people working there making a great job to keep them as healthy as they should be, explaining him every secret about what he was, his powers and what he could do or not.

The only dark spot was the fact that you had to stay there, without your loved ones, but with Warren who slowly became family to you. And you couldn't be happier about having him with you, right there, because he became close to you, closer than you would imagine – once he stopped thinking about how cute you looked when you first met. But you felt happy there, happier than you thought you would.

“Happy birthday, birdie,” he whispered to your ear, flying above you, head down his locks falling before his eyes, as you smiled.

“You remembered? I love you so much!” You took his cheeks between your hands, kissing his nose delicately. He called you birdie, you called him pigeon. Affectionate, more than it should be. He finally stood, facing you, looking you right in the eye as he swallowed hard.

“Birdie... Can I... Kiss you? As a gift? As whatever? If you don't want to, don't you worry, it's dumb, I know, I shouldn't ask you, but you know,” he began to ramble, and you could hear the voice in his head going crazy? You closed your eyes.

“Kiss me before I change my mind.”

[th3atr3phant0m]

Siren Head

It came as a surprise to absolutely no one who even slightly knew Dib that he spent his free time investigating and attempting to hunt down cryptids. He was a fanatic in every sense of the word and incredibly interested in the side of the world (and the parts of the universe) that the majority of the others around him tended to overlook. Paranormal creatures and aliens alike had always been at the epicentre of Dib’s little world growing up and, to his father’s slight dismay, that never changed. Even as an adult, his enthusiasm never waned nor faltered.

In fact, it only became easier for him to follow these aspirations as his life went on. Not only did he have his own intellect and his family’s technology on his side, but he had an accomplice as well. His now “frenemy” (Dib loathed that word) of sorts: Zim.

Despite the complicated history of their odd relationship, the two couldn’t deny that they had grown to care for one another over the years and, slowly, they fell into a somewhat stable pattern. In spite of everything that had happened- or perhaps because of everything that had happened between them- they found themselves spending a great deal of time together. At the moment, though, neither of them were secure enough to hang out with the other aimlessly as normal friends did. They were too tied up in their own pride to allow themselves to just spend time with the other for fun- there had to be a reason behind their little get-togethers. Instead of caving and just acting as though they were a typical couple of friends, they did something that was far more intense yet still incredibly fun and interesting for one another: dual cryptid hunting.

While Zim wasn’t as passionate about the paranormal as Dib was, he found Dib’s enthusiasm beautiful and intriguing in a way that made him almost as excited as Dib was about their searches. Besides that, it was just fun and interesting in general. It allowed him to see strange parts of Earth that could definitely give him an advantage if he ever actually got around to overtaking the damned planet. It also gave him something to do- something to focus on that, strangely, made him happy. It fulfilled him in a way that many other things had failed to.

What made Zim less happy was the possibility that either of them could get severely injured or, in Dib’s case, wind up dead during their exploration. That wasn’t something that the Irken liked to focus on, though, and, truly it wasn’t a worry that popped into his mind too frequently. Especially not when they were doing the more boring but necessary parts of their “work”.

Currently, the two of them were sprawled across the floor in the centre of Zim’s living room, each on their own devices and researching the cryptid that Dib- and the majority of the internet- had most recently taken interest in: Siren Head. Zim lay on his stomach as he stared at the computer before him, mild disinterest in his eyes. He… didn’t always enjoy the less hands-on parts of this cryptid hunting- at least not when they dragged on for a long time. They had been at this for what felt like ages . So long had they been there, in fact, that Gir had fallen asleep. The fact that the tiny SIR unit who had been hell-bent on bothering them throughout the entirety of their “study session” was telling of how long they had been there and, honestly, quite the feat.

Dib, on the other hand, was far more engrossed than Zim was. While he loved the more physical aspects of getting into the field and actually interacting with the cryptids, he also loved just reading about them, gathering information about the strange happenings surrounding them and the lore that came along with their existence. Throughout almost the entire time that they had been in Zim’s base that day, Dib had remained steadfast in his focus. He had happily let himself fall into the rabbit-hole of the internet that was Siren Head and never once had his interest faltered. It was almost impressive how Dib had barely broken eye contact with his studies (and it made Zim wonder if he was this intense about his actual studies at university).

Zim tore his ruby eyes away from Dib to focus back on the device before him, lekku drooping with slight boredom as he did so.

As if sensing Zim’s waning interest, Dib paused from his typing and closed his laptop to focus his attention on his burnt-out friend, instead. His eyes looked slightly strained and tired from staring at the screen for an extended period of time and he rubbed at them briefly before speaking, “Not enough excitement for you, Space Boy?”

Zim rolled his eyes, though it was a far less useful gesture when he wasn’t wearing contacts that allowed him to make it obvious that he was attempting to do so.

Dib stretched his arms above his head, arching his back so that his spine popped satisfyingly- Zim continued to find it strange that it was normal for human bodies to make such noises- before crossing his legs and leaning back on his arms, “I can leave if you don’t want to research any more for the night.”

Zim didn’t want Dib to leave. It was nice to have someone other than GIR to visit with- someone that he could have real, intelligent conversations with. Of course, Zim appreciated the fact that he had GIR- despite how useless the robot could be most times, he did truly enjoy spending time with him- but he appreciated having other people in his life, as well, and Dib was one of those people.

“You don’t have to leave just because there isn’t any more interesting information to find about this creature.”

“Hey, there’s plenty of interesting stuff about this guy!” Dib defended.

“And we’ve seen it all already.”

“Well, sorry for not being stupid enough to run head-on into danger without knowing what I’m up against.”

Zim smirked at that, “You’ve done that your entire life, Dib-Stink.”

Dib flipped his friend off, though there was no malice behind the action, “We still don’t really know how or if we can kill or restrain it. That’s really the only thing I want to find out before we go looking for it.”

“I don’t think the humans have that knowledge, yet, Dib.”

Dib frowned at that, suspecting that Zim was right. The expression faded just as quickly as it had appeared, though, “That’s fine. That just means that we will be the people to find out whatever this thing’s weakness is!”

The corner of Zim’s lips quirked up to form a small, half-smile. There were many things that Zim had once detested about Dib but now liked or found admirable about him. One of the major things, though, was his absolutely unrelenting determination and refusal to be taken down or discouraged by anything . It was a hell of a thing to be up against and had been ridiculously annoying back when they were still constantly at each other’s throats. Now, though, it was one of the best traits to have in an ally.

“It’s getting late,” Zim noted, looking at the time on the analogue clock that hung above the television, “Don’t you humans typically sleep at this time?”

“What about me screams ‘I do typical human things’?” Dib joked, “I’m spending my free time with an alien who used to be my nemesis.”

Zim chuckled, “You do need to sleep at some point, though.”

“Aww, you care about my health, Lizard?” Dib teased.

Zim did his best to flip off Dib, though the motion was far less effective on someone who only had three fingers as opposed to the typical five of a human and the gesture only made Dib laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’ll sleep when I get home. I just don’t want to drive when it’s this dark out- I’ll wake up my roommates if I try to head back to my dorm now.” Dib hadn’t intended to spend the entire evening and into the late hours of the night there, but time had really gotten away from the two of them. Dib had been far too focused on his research and on talking to Zim than he had been on keeping track of time, and Dib doubted that Zim really had any concept of Earthen time to begin with.

“Stinky, you can sleep here, you know.” Zim suggested, “Zim’s superior Irken form doesn’t require sleep, but I am capable of sleep and have comfortable places where you can sleep for the night if you need to.”

Dib rolled his eyes at Zim’s casual mention of the strength of the Irken race but said nothing about it considering how common it was for him to boast about not only his importance and power, but that of his entire race’s as well, “Thanks, Zim, but I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to pass out in the middle of doing research and sleep on the floor, aren’t you?” Zim asked, though it didn’t come out as much of a question.

“You have such little faith in me,” Dib shook his head.

“You are human after all,” Zim retorted, grinning.

Dib snorted. “Dick,” the insult sounded far more affectionate than he had intended, though.

~~~

“Okay, so, the way I see it, there are only three basic steps that we need to take for this to be successful.”

“And what, exactly, do you propose those steps would be?” Zim asked.

“Step one: Research-”

“We’ve already completed that step.”

“I wasn’t saying that we hadn’t-”

“It was implied.”

“Can you just shut up and let me finish?” Dib rolled his eyes, continuing to speak once Zim went quiet, allowing him to do so, “Step two: acquire materials.”

“And step three?”

“That’s where we actually go into the forest in search of Siren Head.”

“Then, in your opinion, we’re already one-third of the way complete?”

“Pretty much. I mean, it’s an incredibly simplified step-by-step list, but, really, researching and gathering materials is all we need to do before we actually head out there. We don’t need to complicate the process.”

“You say that as if that isn’t something you do as frequently as breathing.”

“ You’re one to talk,” Dib retorted, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, “Anyways, what do we know that we need to bring with us? Other than audio and video recording devices for evidence, obviously.”

“Some sort of noise-cancelling headphones.”

“For the screaming?” Siren Head was known for deafening people with screams that were so intense and caused such pain that their ears bled and they went crazy from the sound. Many had, supposedly, been immobilized by the creature’s screams.

“No, for the aesthetic- yes , for the screaming you imbecile.”

Dib glared at that comment, “The only problem with that is that no human-made technology would be strong enough for that- nothing that we have access to, anyways. Besides, if we’re both wearing headphone that completely cancels out the noise around us, we won’t be able to hear one another or the warning signs that it’s getting closer.”

“One, you’re the only one who is in need of the headphones,” Zim countered, holding up one clawed finger as he began his list, “Two, you wouldn’t listen to the warnings of it approaching even if you did hear them.”

“I wouldn’t heed the warnings, but it’s still safer to know what’s happening and be able to prepare for it properly,” Dib paused, “And why do I need the headphones but not you ?”

“That thing could kill humans by drawing them in with false or hypnotic noises or by screaming and bursting their eardrums. Irkens , on the other hand, don’t process sound in the ways that you do. I won’t sustain serious damage or lose my hearing permanently if I listen to its noises. You will.”

“Don’t Irkens have better hearing than humans?”

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t hurt , it just won’t be able to seriously harm me- my pak defence and healing mechanisms won’t allow that to happen.”

“Fair enough, I guess, but aren’t you capable of being hypnotised by sounds? Or being tricked by it faking voices of people you know?”

“ Technically , but it won’t happen.”

Dib looked unimpressed and raised a brow.

Zim sighed, “It could trick or hypnotize me, but since we’re going out there looking for it rather than stumbling upon it unexpectedly, I don’t think it will be as effective against either of us.”

That was a fairly decent point and made sense based off of the evidence. It would be far more difficult for it to trick them when they knew what it had on its side as far as power went.

“Fine,” Dib relented, “But we really should make some sort of protectors for you, as well. I don’t want you to be completely vulnerable out there, even if your headphones won’t be as effective.”

“I’d really rather not wear a ridiculous pair of headphones just to make the noises slightly less intense. It’s likely that I’ll still be able to hear it, either way.”

“And I’d rather you not go crazy in the middle of the woods because some loud noises overtake you and scramble your brain,” Dib countered, “Even if they aren’t perfect with blocking everything out, they’ll do enough to keep you safe. Plus, if you can still hear with them, you’ll be able to use that to our advantage- hopefully without getting too hurt.”

Zim groaned, “ Fine , if it will calm you down, I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Dib gave him a small smile, glad he had won the debate, “Let’s get started on making those headphones.”

~~~

While humans had made leaps and bounds in creating headphones and earbuds that were fairly good at blocking out other sounds from outside sources, none of them would be powerful enough to block out anything loud enough to burst people’s eardrums. Especially considering the fact that Zim had far better hearing than most humans did (and had a different skull structure than them), no regular headphones would work for him. Nothing that they could find online or in stores in person would be good enough for what they needed and they weren’t certain that any currently existing headphones were good enough to even use as a base. That in mind, Zim and Dib decided to completely start from scratch when making the headphones.

For the most part, the only thing that they used normal headphone blueprints for was getting the shape correct for Dib’s pair of headphones. Other than that, they almost completely ignored the typical process for creating the device.

While most headphones were made of plastics, vinyls, and silicone, the main materials that they used were ones that were used frequently by the Irken Armada and couldn’t even be found on Earth as well as strong but typical Earthen metals. These things would block sound, reflecting it rather than absorbing or drawing it in. For the pieces that would be the closest Dib’s ears, they used things that were able to be found on earth- mainly consisting of pliable, porous cloth and sealant.

It took quite a bit of time to perfect the headphones. While Zim and Dib wanted to complete the project together, Dib had college classes and Zim had a part-time job, so their schedules clashed often, making it sometimes difficult for them to get enough time together for them to be able to fully focus on and make progress for their project.

Despite the scheduling difficulties they faced on more than one occasion, they were eventually able to create something that they hoped would work perfectly for their plan- one pair of headphones that were completely noise cancelling for Dib and one pair of vaguely headphone-esque things that lessened noise for Zim.

At least, they were hopeful that the things would work. While both of them were very confident in their abilities and the work that they had created together, they decided that it would be best for them to try out their inventions before actually trying to find Siren Head. They didn’t want to get into the forest and find Siren Head only to discover that their devices worked far less well than they intended and have either of them sustain serious injuries due to it.

This lead to some serious testing as well as some… not so serious testing of their devices.

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” Zim was screaming at the top of his lungs- something that he was quite good at considering all fo the practice he had gotten for it over the years.

Egged on by the excitement of the situation, GIR joined in on the screaming fest, voice becoming nearly as loud as Zim’s while hitting a far higher octave, “CAN YOU HEAR? CAN YOU!?”

“I CAN SEE THAT YOU GUYS ARE TALKING, BUT I CAN’T HEAR SHIT,” Dib called back. He couldn’t hear his own voice as clearly or as loudly as he typically was able to, and he couldn’t truly tell how loud he was being, leading to him screaming rather than speaking his questions.

Zim blinked, unable to hear either of them at all, “WHAT?” “WHAT?” Dib screamed back, squinting as if trying to read Zim’s lips.

Zim removed his own headphones, confident that they worked well enough for their upcoming expedition. He continued to scream, though, wanting to see whether or not Dib’s were working as well as his had.

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Zim repeated, keeping his volume consistent with how loud he had been screaming previously.

“I CAN’T HEAR- ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE YELLING LOUD ENOUGH?”

“WE ARE SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF OUR-”

GIR cut Zim off with a loud screech that pierced through Zim words, cutting through their air like a knife with his nonsensical noises. He began screaming and continued to make the hideous noise for several long moments that Zim found agonizingly irritating, pinning his antenna back both at the loud noise and the annoyance of GIR’s actions.

Once the silence finally returned, Zim spoked, “Are you done ?”

His question was met with another loud scream from GIR- though this time it was, thankfully, far shorter and less intense.

Zim put a hand over his face, rubbing his temples for a moment before looking up to Dib and meeting his eyes, “So, I take it you didn’t-”

“I STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

With a groan, Zim mimed taking off the headphones. Dib followed suit by actually removing them once seeing this.

“So I take it you didn’t hear any of that?” Zim asked, eyes flickering over to GIR in a slightly distasteful manner, still somewhat disturbed by the robot’s earlier display.

“Nope!” Dib followed Zim’s gaze to the robot, who was, at that point, cheerfully playing with some random pieces of scrap metal he had found scattered around the lab and put two and two together, “I guess it worked, then?”

“Good,” Zim couldn’t hold back his pleased smile at the confirmation that it had worked, proud of himself- of them as a team- for putting together something that was not only perfect for what they needed, but that actually functioned well, “Does this mean we can move onto the final step?”

“We should probably get some other basic supplies, but, other than that...” Dib found himself grinning as well, amber eyes shining with delighted excitement, “I think we’re actually good to go!”

That night, the two of them celebrated with some strange, homemade waffles that GIR made. The waffles were surprisingly very good, despite the strangeness of having waffles that had M&M’s and sprinkles mixed into the batter, and it seemed like a fitting way to celebrate their success. Plus, GIR was thrilled to be able to be part of their operation in one way or another.

All in all, the day had been a complete success.

~~~

Dib wasn’t the tallest person ever, but, considering his source of genetic material, he was no shrimp, either. Over the years, he had grown quite a bit- as humans tend to do- and even Zim wasn’t as short as he had been when he first arrived on Earth. Despite that, the two of them knew that their height was nothing compared to that of the Siren Head and their stature would be a massive handicap when they went up against the large creature.

Because of this, they decided that they would need to obtain one more thing for their expedition to be successful (though they hated to put it off even longer): grappling hooks.

As ridiculous as it sounded, they knew that there was little chance that they would be able to do much to harm or restrain Siren Head without the assistance of such devices and, according to WikiHow, they were incredibly easy to make.

Making the grappling hooks themselves wasn’t too difficult. All that they truly needed were ropes (they used ones of steel to avoid easy breaks), hooks, and, if they were feeling fancy, some sort of launching mechanism. Their combined knowledge of engineering and machinery made it incredibly easy for the two of them to create several of these grappling hooks quickly, leaving them with three each- all of which they were able to complete in one day.

Even the testing of these devices was quick and easy… and, in all honesty, incredibly fun for the two of them. They would be lying if they said that they hadn’t spent more time playing around with them than necessary.

Together, they spent hours messing around with the grappling hooks as they worked to “test” them. They launched the hooks to the tops of buildings and grappled their way around. They worked on their aim and general handling of the devices of course, but, for the most part, they just fooled around with the machines, having fun swinging around like idiots.

During this “testing” period of their preparation journey, Dib finally decided what his favourite part about Zim’s entire house was: the numerous tubes and wires that hung in a massive tangle above their heads in every room.

“Fuck off, Fool-Boy!” Zim screeched as he attempted to outrun- outswing? Outgrapple?- Dib.

“Never, Lizard-Feed!” Dib cackled. He was doing his best to dual wield two of his grappling hooks so that he could move as quickly as possible. While the basement of Zim’s home was practically a labyrinth, the complexities of the wires above gave him plenty of material for travel.

Dib wasn’t the only one who was proficient with a grappling hook, though.

Just as quickly as Dib zipped through the air, Zim dodged his playful attacks and avoided him with just as much grace as his human counterpart. Throughout their childhoods, they had had numerous run-ins with one another and had fought so frequently that an elaborate dance developed between the two of them as time went on. Nothing really compared to their Spider-Man-esque battle among the wires of Zim’s ceiling, though.

“You have the grace of a piñata, Dib-Thing,” Zim glanced over his shoulder only to shoot Dib an overly-confident grin, “You have no chance against m-”

Rudely, Dib swung up right beside Zim, kicking at him to throw him off-balance since neither of his hands were free. He manically laughed as Zim let out a startled shreik, swinging away before Zim had time to recover and retaliate.

“Oh, you are dead , now, Stinky!”

Dib wasn’t threatened by Zim’s words in the least. In fact, they just inspired him to make another attack on his other-worldly friend.

With a high-pitched chirp, Zim extended his pak legs and retracted his grappling hooks, opting to run instead.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Dib chuckled, attempt to gain enough control over his own grappling hooks to apprehend Zim. The added speed and power that Zim had with the pak legs, though, made it a bit difficult.

“There are no laws of cryptid hunting, Dib-Beast.”

“For someone’s who’s only recently start cryptid hunting, you sure sound confident about that,” Dib raised an eyebrow but he was far more intent on their strange game of tag than on their usual banter. Still, their playful back and forth was a constant in their strange relationship and neither of them dropped it, even when they were more focused on other things.

“And for someone from a species completely inadequate compared to mine, you sure sound confident when talking about besting me.” Zim leapt to the side, thankful that his nimble pak legs made it possible for him to avoid his friend’s “attacks” against him.

“Well, I did succeed in making you stop trying to plan world dominaion, so I’d say I have a right to my confidence.”

Zim let out an affronted noise as though Dib’s words were an unforgivable attack upon his entire species, “You convinced me of nothing! I made that decision completely of my own volition. I don’t need a human to tell m- ACK!”

Zim’s haughty rant was cut off by Dib crashing into him at full speeds, the human deciding to take advantage of the alien’s moment of distraction to take him down and win this little game of theirs.

Dib was about to celebrate his success, but, when hurtling towards his friend as fast as his grappling hook would allow, he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that just maybe swinging at a non-moving object at ridiculous speeds would end up taking him down as well.

The grip that Dib had on his grappling hook faltered and completely slipped from his grasp upon making contact with Zim, sending both of them crashing to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Zim landed beneath Dib in an uncomfortable position. Were he human, he would have completely knocked the air out of his lungs during their tumble.

Zim glared up at his human for a moment, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for too long- not when Dib was already dissolving into laughter.

“I really should have seen that coming.”

Zim began snickering at their fall as well, “You’re an absolute dunce , sometimes.”

Several moments passed between the two of them, neither bothering to move from their position entangled on the hard, tiled floor of the base, both laughing too hard and too amused by their combined stupidity in the situation to do anything else.

Finally, their laughter tapered off and the two of them looked up at Dib’s grappling hook, dangling from the sky. While both Dib and Zim had fallen upon impact, the device had stubbornly remained hooked to the wires of the ceiling, leaving it hanging several feet above their heads.

“How do you plan on getting that down, wise guy?”

Dib met Zim’s eyes with a grin, aiming his other grappling hook up near the other one. Really, Zim didn’t know what he expected if not that.

“I genuinely cannot believe that you’re still alive, Dib.”

~~~

Aside from the headphones and grappling hooks that Dib and Zim had created and now stored in Dib’s blue, mildly beaten up truck, the two of them also brought along anything that they believed could be of use to them on their journey. This included several different kinds of recording equipment, extra lengths of rope, a flashlight, and a device that registered all noises in the surrounding area and would display said noises visually for the two of them. These items were stored in Zim’s pak and the pockets of Dib’s coat, forgoing the extra storage of Dib’s briefcase for their actual trek out of a concern that it would get in the way.

Overall, the two of them felt extremely prepared for the entire situation and were confident that they would not only be alive by the end of the night but have some sort of definitive evidence to support their claims as well.

Dib parked the truck in a small, gravel lot not far from the forest that they were planning on traversing for the night. It was a dense, wooded area that stretched for several miles and was a popular camping ground. Despite this, it wasn’t difficult to spend an entire week camping out there without ever running into another person, considering the vastness of the forest (or so the internet said, neither Zim nor Dib had ever camped in that particular forest… or at all).

The forest was, in every way, the perfect hunting grounds for Siren Head and there had even been several supposed sightings and hearings of the creature alongside several strange disappearances and deaths related to the area.

While this forest was their best bet of finding it without leaving their state- or country, for that matter- it was also a massive area and they anticipated needing to spend quite a decent chunk of the night searching or even needing to return days later to look again (they did not look forward to trying to fit another night of this into their cluttered schedules). Zim didn’t need to sleep and therefore didn’t really get tired . Dib, on the other hand, was only human and prepared for spending the night searching by drinking four cups of coffee before leaving and sleeping for a bit of the day.

Dib was about to get out of the car before Zim grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“What?” Dib asked, turning to face his friend.

Zim gestured towards the headphones they had made, “I’m not letting you get killed by that siren creature, Dib-Beast.”

Dib let out a small huff of air as he grabbed the two headsets, handing one of them to Zim, “Right back at you, Space Boy. If you need to say something, try to act it out or something.”

“Creative,” Zim teased, a small smirk on his lips, “Don’t forget to look at that device for anything peculiar. If you get yourself killed, I’ll bring you back myself so I can pummel you.”

Dib rolled his eyes, “Same to you, Zim.”

Zim puffed out his chest, huffing slightly, “As if you could ever do such a thing.”

Despite their words, though, they both chuckled.

With that, the two of them secured their headsets, completely cutting off the sound from the rest of the world for the time being. Losing an entire sense, even for a small amount of time, created a strange sense of vulnerability that neither of them was quite used to or comfortable with. Nonetheless, it was necessary for their safety, so the two of them simply exited and locked the truck behind them, carrying several pieces of their equipment along with them as they went.

There were a lot of things that could tip one off to the location of Siren Head. Those things, however, were only obvious if you knew what you were looking- or, in this case, listening- for. Almost everything that could lead them towards Siren Head was the sounds that the creature would emit, but leaving their headphones off for an extended period of time was not the safest course of action and neither Zim nor Dib were idiotic enough to completely forego the devices. Besides, the “hints” that came with Siren Head could be cryptic and, oftentimes, not really understood until it was too late.

White noise. Gentle breeze and running waters and distantly singing birds. The peaceful noises that everyone hears daily and pays little mind. The soft, lovely songs of the forest that people fall asleep to every night.

And then a terribly loud, ear-splitting, bone-chilling noise.

Followed by nothing.

No, they weren’t going to risk going through that just so that they could hear the “tell-tale” signs of Siren Head coming. They would hear the white noise of the forest all around them whether or not it was there- hearing it was a far cry from a true hint of what was to come. They were safer like this, even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

Dib opened his noise to speak as they drew nearer to the entrance of the dense forest before them, but, of course, Zim didn’t hear his question about where they should start. Dib just sighed.

They foraged forwards, heading into the thick woods. Underfoot, leaves crunched and twigs snapped but all of that remained utterly silent. It felt trange despite the fact that both of them knew that that would be the case before they even entered. The feeling of the ground beneath them was enough to ground Zim, even if he had completely lost another of his senses- one of the senses he relied upon the most.

For a moment, Dib glanced down to the device in his hands. The dimly lit green light displayed the noise all around them, showing that there was, in fact, very little going on in the woods. He did notice something, though. Further away, it looked as though there was a slightly louder noise.

Dib squinted, bringing the device closer to his face. Was it the Siren Head? They hadn’t been there for very long- it seemed almost too easy for that to be the case. The closer he looked, though, the less likely that seemed. It wasn’t a very loud nor intense noise. Maybe it was an animal of some sort? Or perhaps-

Something wrapped tightly around Dib’s upper arm, cinching around the flesh in an iron grip.

With a startled jump, what Dib assumed would have been an ear-piercing shriek had Dib had the ability to hear anything tore its way from his throat, reverberating in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the green line flare up, spiking with the sound of his screams.

His panic was short-lived.

When he looked up to face whatever it was, he was met with a completely unintimidating sight: his Irken companion, eyes blown wide and lekku pinned back- probably startled by Dib’s response to his touch.

Dib’s muscles relaxed. He took several deep breaths, calming himself down, reminding himself that he was not in danger, despite what his immediate instincts told him. He took a step back as he regained control of his senses.

“You startled me, you dick,” Dib muttered, knowing that Zim wouldn’t hear him.

“Idiot,” Zim hissed back.

While Dib couldn’t hear whatever it was that Zim had said, his facial expression- and his general douchey-ness that DIb had come to know so well over the years- made it obvious that it was some sort of insult.

Dib flipped his friend off.

Zim let out a heavy sigh, “You can’t just wander off. I thought you were going to get lost.”

With a roll of his eyes, Dib gestured towards his headphones.

“Ugh. Stupid fucking…” Zim gave up trying to talk to him, deciding to mime his words instead. He pointed to Dib, made a walking motion with his fingers, and then crossed his arms into an ‘X’.

Dib still looked completely lost.

With a dramatic groan, Zim just grabbed his friend’s hand, lacing their fingers together- something that was somewhat awkward considering the fact that Zim had two fewer fingers than Dib did, though not as uncomfortable as either of them had anticipated.

Zim pointed at their clasped hands definitively and nodded trying to signify that they would stay like that- for safety reasons, of course.

While Dib wasn’t completely sure why Zim decided to hold his hand, he could make a good enough guess based off of the gesture. So, he just nodded and gave Zim’s hand a gentle squeeze, signifying that he understood.

Zim returned the nod before turning to look in front of them, gazing deeper into the abyss of the woods.

It didn’t take much miming for Dib to understand that his friend wanted to continue towards their actual mission.

Together, they made their way through the forest, disappearing deeper and deeper into the darkened land all around them. As the light of the world dimmed the further they went, Dib grabbed his flashlight, flicking it on so that he could illuminate their way.

The large flashlight that Dib held in his free hand was perhaps one of the best purchases he had ever made. The beam of light that it cast was like a small, portable sun in his hands and it had several different settings for whatever intensity of light they needed. It didn’t stop there, though. The device was crafted from a heavy, sturdy metal that he could easily use as a bludgeoning weapon if it became necessary- not that it would stand much of a chance against the Siren Head, but it was still better to have it just in case.

As Dib manned the flashlight, Zim grabbed the noise device from where it was attached to Dib’s belt, hanging on his hip, and held it up between them with the hand that wasn’t holding Dib’s so that they could both see it.

The readings on the device were normal- well, normal for their location in the middle of a forest late at night- and gave no signs of anything amiss. It was clear that the sounds around them were typical and far from the piercing shrieks and thunderous footfalls of the Siren Head. That , at the very least, was good. It meant that it hadn’t found them yet… hopefully.

While their hopes weren’t exactly high (Dib and Zim were many things, but “optimist” was not included on either of those lists), it was certainly possible for them to discover the creature before it discovered them. It may have had the advantage of its height and power to manipulate sound, but those things came with their disadvantages as well.

For starters, it would be far easier for Dib and Zim to spot Siren Head than it would the other way around. While it could somewhat blend in with trees, a sentient creature of such monstrous size wasn’t easily camouflaged. They , on the other hand, were far smaller than it and weren’t as easy to spot in the middle of the forest. Plus, with their headgear, the Siren Head didn’t exactly have a leg up on them with its deafening screeches.

If they could spot the creature before it became aware of them, they would have everything that they needed to take it down. It wouldn’t be easy by any means, but it certainly would make things less difficult.

Things never worked out that way, though.

Before they even saw the readings on their device, they felt the presence of the Siren Head. Rather, the creature was so gargantuan in size that, even the lightest of its footfalls could be felt and with every step it took, the ground beneath their very feet shook and trembled, nearly powerful enough to knock them off their centre of balance. Dib could feel the vibrations of its movement in his very bones.

Forgetting the sound device completely, the two of them turned their faces up to gaze skywards, whirling around to look behind them.

As they expected, lumbering towards them was what appeared to be a tree. Under the scrutinizing light of Dib’s flashlight, though- and with their knowledge of the creature- they knew better.

Making its way towards them was a heavily emaciated creature, its flesh stretched so tightly over its gnarled bones that it hardly looked as though it had any skin, to begin with. In fact, the creature almost looked as though it were nothing more than a tangle of wood and tree branches growing together haphazardly. Were it not for the distinct humanoid bone structure of the creature, it could almost pass for a regular tree.

Oh, and then there were the heads- the thing that earned it its namesake.

Dib and Zim couldn’t help but stop and stare in absolute wonder as the beam of light travelled up the creatures torso and shone upon its “face”. Perched atop its thin, craggy neck were two sirens pointing in opposing directions, several rows of jagged, humanoid teeth in the gaping maw of each siren.

The sounds that the creature emitted as it unhinged its terrible jaw drowned out any and all sound around them, completely dominating the device that hung limply in Zim’s clawed hand and not allowing anything else to register on it, even as Dib attempted to speak to him from directly next to him.

They truly were lucky for their headsets. If they couldn’t even see any noise other than the creature’s footsteps and screams, they would be dead by now without their headphones (or, at least, Dib would be dead- a thought that made the Irken sick to his stomach- and Zim in immeasurable pain).

“NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO GO!” Dib shouted, straining his voice to be heard or seen in any way. His attempts were futile, though. Instead, he tugged on Zim’s hand, drawing his attention to himself as he wildly gestured towards the creature drawing nearer by the second.

Zim didn’t need to hear Dib’s words to know what he was trying to communicate. Narrowing his eyes, he nodded definitively towards his human companion and began making his first move.

For the first time all night, Dib and Zim split up. They didn’t stray too far from one another, no, they just ran in opposite directions so that they would be on either side of the Siren Head. Even for a creature with limbs like that , it would be difficult for it to grab both of them at once when they were in this position. Doing this would give them enough time to rescue the other or escape if either of them was captured.

As the bone-like arms of the creature swung with its movement, Dib gulped, hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.

Shaking the worry from his head, Dib detached one of the grappling hooks from where it hung at his side and lifted it, aiming towards the creature. With one eye closed to stabilize his aim, Dib pulled the trigger, launching the hook through the air and towards one of the creature’s arms. As it soared through the air, Dib sank his teeth into his lower lip, hoping that the claw of the device would catch on the creature so he could restrain it.

Siren Head wasn’t easily fooled, though. The glint of the metal claw in the moonlight was enough to alert it to the approaching grappling hook.

Instead of allowing it to hit its mark, Siren Head caught the end of the small device in its hand and tugged it towards itself.

Dib shrieked as he was pulled off of his feet and sent sprawling to the ground with the force of the Siren Head’s movements, releasing the device despite himself as he fell. The revolting taste of dirt filled Dib’s mouth as he crashed down and he grimaced at the feeling. Once he spat the gritty substance from his mouth, he gasped for the air that was knocked cruelly from his lungs as he fell.

Confused, and not noticing that its human victim had fallen instead of being dragged along by the line, Siren Head held up the device, searching for the human where it assumed it should be connected.

If Zim had a heart- anatomically speaking, of course- it would have stopped for a moment at the mere sight of Dib’s actions. Concern coursed through his body as he saw Dib wipe out completely followed by mild relief as he saw the human stir, confirming that he was, at the very least, alright enough to move.

Looking back up to the creature, Zim saw what he needed to do. He had to attack while Siren Head was distracted with the foreign device in its grasp and he had to do it before it realized where Dib truly was.

Zim took on a more solid stance and launched his grappling hook at the arm closest to him. Unlike Dib’s first attempt, Zim was successful- Siren Head remaining still for the moment making it easier. The claws of the device hooked onto the sinewy appendage of the monster and embedded itself into whatever strange material it was that the creature consisted of.

Regaining his composure, Dib followed suit, using his second grappling hook to get the other creature’s arm under his control.

In near synchronicity, the two companions moved quickly, rushing to two different trees on either side of the creatures and attaching their end of the grappling hook to the tree, doing their best to wrap it around the trunk and knot the thick metal rope that had been used in their making.

Once close enough, Zim caught Dib by his shoulder and gestured for Dib to take up his camera.

Stepping back, Dib did as Zim suggested, grabbing his camera and beginning to snap photos of the monstrous being that stood like a sentient tree in the forest, confusedly thrashing and inspecting its restraints, though both Dib and Zim had the feeling that even the reinforced materials they had used for the devices were weak against Siren Head.

As Dib did his best to capture photographic evidence of the encounter, Zim snatched his second grappling hook into his clutches and shot it once more. This time, he aimed for the Siren Head’s pelvic bone, hoping to confuse the creature with the attack from a new angle.

Thankfully, Zim’s aim was true and the claws hooking into Siren Head’s obturator foramen.

Zim couldn’t help the small smile of pride that spread across his face as he saw the momentary confusion of the creature in response to the attempted restraints. He and DIb were doing shockingly well up against the beast and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit full of himself (though that was nearly his constant state).

That excitement was short-lived as Siren Head’s confusion turned into rage. Clearly, the cryptid had had enough of the two’s shenanigans and was sick of their struggles against it and its powers.

With little effort, it snapped the metallic ropes that bound it, trashing its arms out to break free and doing so with ease. Scaps of metal torn from the rope rained down above them. The angry movements even uprooted one of the trees that it had been tethered to, sending the innocent arboreal riend several feet away from its original home to meet its final resting place.

“Er, Dib?” Zim called, taking a few steps back as he witnessed the movements of the creature, “I think we should go.”

Nearly entranced with the sight before him and the task at hand, the nature of their situation didn’t fully sink in for Dib and, clearly, he couldn’t even hear his friend’s words as he tried to warn him.

Thankfully for both of them, despite what Zim claimed throughout their childhood, Dib was not stupid and, once he saw that Siren Head was beginning to make its way towards them, he stuffed the camera into one of his free pockets and ran .

The two of them ran side-by-side. As they exited the forest, though, they didn’t hold hands as they did previously. They didn’t need the physical grounding force to remind them where the other was and they certainly didn’t need the handicap of being slowed down by doing so. Up against this thing, even their amazing physique earned over their years of fighting and training seemed pathetic and weak. They needed everything that they had to escape the cryptid’s clutches.

The enormous cryptid had ridiculously long legs, though, and, even when not running at full speed, it was getting far to close to them for comfort at a far too quick pace. Siren Head was practically taking mile-long steps for each foot they moved. It was too fast for them and it only got faster and closer with every second. There was no way they could outrun that thing.

Dibs chest heaved with the effort of staying calm while keeping his speed up. Zim’s fists pumped through the air and his boots pounded against the dirt beneath them as they tried to outrun the thing. Branches from nearby trees whipped at the faces, leaving scratches that would certainly still be there tomorrow but that neither of them paid any mind to- too focused on the task at hand to take notice of the sensation. Faintly, Dib could hear the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Having gone so long without hearing anything , the sound only made him more anxious.

Zim dared to cast a glance behind them and practically felt his throat close up at the very sight of the cryptid. Siren Head was practically on top of them now, just a little too far away for the creature to reach out and grab them. Now that it was so close to them, its enormous height was even more prominent and made it all the more awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Making a split-second decision, Zim ejected his pak legs and looped his arms around Dib’s waist, pulling his companion close to him as the six legs raised him off the ground by several feet, bringing him with him as it did so. The moment that Zim had Dib in his grasp, the pak legs began moving. The extra height of the six appendages and the speed that they provided from a combination of them being numerous and mechanical gave them an advantage that they didn’t have on foot.

Siren Head may have been the tallest living creature that either of them had seen (Dib in his entire lifetime and Zim for the first time in ages), but the pak legs were far more dexterous than the cryptid could ever imagine. While the monster smashed through trees and logs as it sped towards them, they took advantage of the pak legs’ abilities. They scuttled around in an almost spider-like manner, alternating between scrambling up trees, leaping from branches, and darting around quickly on the ground. They moved in erratic patterns that they hoped were too indistinguishable and complicated for Siren Head to follow.

Finally, the lines of trees surrounding them thinned and they could see that the edge of the forest was near. They could practically taste the freedom of their escape.

Dib snatched the lanyard with his car keys out of his pocket and frantically smashed the buttons to unlock the doors and remotely start it up, his other arm still clinging tightly to Zim to avoid being dropped to his demise. If they wanted to get out alive, they didn’t have any time to waste. They needed to be able to jump into the car the second they got out and book it .

After what felt like an eternity, they burst through the line of trees. The two of them almost screamed with relief as they saw the headlights of Dib’s car in the distance.

They weren’t fools, though, and didn’t take time to celebrate the victory of getting out of there. They still weren’t in the clear, not just yet. Siren Head may have “lived” in that forest, but nothing was stopping it from leaving when it wanted or needed to do so and it was certainly mad enough to follow them into the parking lot. Instead, they hurtled towards the vehicle as fast as they could.

Zim practically body slammed the two of them into the car door, his momentum too intense to stop them so suddenly as they grappled to get the door open.

Instead of going around to the other side to get into the driver’s side, Dib simply half let Zim throw him and half scrambled over the centre console to get to the driver’s seat.

Completely forgoing their seat belts, Dib threw the car into drive and slammed his foot down on the gas, jolting the two of them as he did so. Zim didn’t even have time to close the door behind him before they were peeling out of the parking lot and zooming into the road at ungodly speeds that few people were ballsy enough to drive at under regular circumstances.

It wasn’t until they were speeding down the road and had gotten far away from the forest they had been at that Zim finally took off his headphones before snatching Dib’s off as well and tossing both pairs into the back seat. “Put on your seatbelt before you get yourself killed,” Zim instructed, securing his own, “We’re far enough away.” He didn’t add in the fact that he only thought that they were far enough away from the creature for them to do so safely.

Regardless, Dib slowed down a little and clicked his own seatbelt in place. He let out a shaky sigh and gripped the steering wheel once more, doing so so tightly that his knuckles turned white with the force.

They sat in relative silence for several moments, just putting space between them and the place they had just escaped from.

“I believe you are still going above the speed limit, Dib-Friend,” Zim said gently. He could tell that his human was a little shaken up by the situation despite the fact that he encountered near-death experiences incredibly frequently. He could tell the adrenaline from the situation was wearing off and the exhaustion was sinking back into his bones.

With a shake of his head to collect his thoughts, Dib slowed down to a more reasonable pace. After a moment, he slowly grinned, “I cannot believe we just did that!”

Zim couldn’t help but smile as well, relieved that Dib didn’t seem too shaken up, “Yeah, you were an absolute idiot out there. It’s a miracle that we got out of there.”

“Hey!” Dib defended, though he knew that there was no malice in his friend’s words, “I did just as well as you did- and I got the pictures.”

Zim snorted, “I can’t argue with that.”

“Speaking of, do you think we got any good ones?”

“It looked like you took nearly a hundred,” Zim reasoned, “I’m sure at least once of them was decent.”

Dib nodded, “Mind looking for me?” Normally, he would just wait until they got back to Zim’s home to check, but they still had a bit of driving to do and he was anxious to see how they had turned out.

“Sure.” Zim leaned across the centre console to reach into the pocket of DIb’s trenchcoat and retrieve the device in question.

As Dib drove, Zim powered up the camera and began scrolling through the pictures taken that night. Several of them were incredibly blurry, but there were also a few really good ones that could certainly prove the creature’s existence. There were also, of course, many pictures that were somewhere between perfection and garbage fire status, as well. Overall, though, they definitely had several successful shots of the creature.

He kept scrolling through them.

Then, he saw something else. It didn’t really surprise Zim- he already knew that the pictures existed and he could clearly recall when they had taken it together.

The photo was a “selfie” of him and Dib sitting side-by-side, a smile on each of their faces. In the pictures, Dib had a practically shit-eating grin as though he had just made a terrible joke and Zim looked somewhat caught off-guard, laughing at whatever his friend had said but cringing at the horrible joke.

Zim felt a smile slowly make its way across his face as he saw the took in the contents of the pictures.

Dib glanced over at his companion, “You’re smiling- is that a yes? Are they good?”

“Yes, Dib-Thing,” Zim confirmed, power the camera off once more, “Yes they are.”

Zim wouldn’t reveal the real reason he was smiling- he didn’t know if he would ever be comfortable enough to be vulnerable like that around even his best friend. They had been victorious that night, though, so it wasn’t completely a lie to say that that was the reason for his glee.

Besides, the little cheer from Dib about their successful night was too good for him to break by admitting his own happiness was from the memory.

Before them, the road stretched out almost endlessly with few other cars alongside them. They were no longer in danger. For now, it was just the two of them basking in their victory as their cryptid hunting mixed tape played quietly over the speakers in Dib’s car.

Yes. That night had gone well.

Link to where I originally posted the story here.

Wonderful art by the lovely @sai-doodles​!

[calamariimpossible]

Magicians on the internet, crypto, and the email that broke me.

This is a continuation of a twitter thread that Muz (@mzkrx) started to write out in his car but then when he plotted out his thoughts, it made more sense to him to put it down in a blog format rather than a thread. You'll find out why as you read through.

Stuck in the car for half an hour so I'm gonna do a thread (Editor's note: Now a whole-ass blog post) about a strange email I got recently.

So I was casually watching magic tricks on YouTube. the funnest part of which to me is reading the comments. YouTube commenters love explaining how they think the trick is done and it's fun to read through their theories and connect dots between similar tricks, etc.

And then one time as I was scrolling I noticed a comment that didn't make sense. It was a string of an almost sentence. Intelligible enough to not be random words but odd enough to read like a trigger phrase for something.

The closest I can describe it as is like the string Zemo used to wake up the Winter Soldier, but with some syntax to it. Like "many thermos wiggle throughout exotic harbinger of circle ascending fuchsia entrapment".

Initially I thought nothing of it, but then I kept seeing them in these magic trick video comment sections. They're never the same string, and it's always under magic trick videos. from different channels even.

Hmmm.

The profiles that posted these comments are also always blank accounts with zero videos and no profile pic. Just their name. I felt like it was too much of a coincidence for these comments to only be under magic trick videos.

I also knew that the world of performance magic is thick with secrets. That is to say, there is deliberate obfuscation of information whenever you try to go online to find out how a trick works.

Magicians get together online and share information with each other just like performers of every other sort as well but the amount of code and doublespeak they use is an order of magnitude more annoying to decipher compared to say, an engineering message board or a gamedev forum.

Knowing that, I thought maybe this almost parsable gibberish I keep seeing everywhere was also some kind of code these people were using to talk to each other.

So I started investigating.

First things first, let's just Google one of the phrases. Maybe that's enough?

And it sorta was.

Pasting them onto the search bar lent me to only 1 result (wild!) and it was a website that looked really dank. Like geocities dank. Annoying neon colours and badly margined jpegs of tarot card images everywhere and a big bold header text that said something to the effect of:

"Congratulations, you've found our hidden message. This portal is only for those seeking knowledge beyond what is on the surface. Continue below."

* * *

I haven't been doing well. I feel like I say that too much. I say it on Patreon, on my personal podcast, whenever any of my friends ask me how I'm doing, pretty much everywhere. I feel very heavy. I understand I'm not the only one feeling like this during a pandemic.

Duh.

But I have this other version of worry that I can't quite articulate until right now: I'm scared I won't be funny anymore. Anwar and Farid can attest that even during our recordings I don't feel up to being funny. I question my jokes a lot. I barely enjoy telling them. I'm worried I'm letting everyone down.

To me, silliness and absurdism as virtues only make sense when the world has trace amounts of injustice and wrongness that training ourselves to see it in our everyday helps us remind ourselves of what is just and fair. The more we consume silliness, the more we are able to recognize silly and point it out. So we don't ignore it when things go wrong, so we talk about it, manage it. So we can take care of each other.

Maybe I can't be sure if we're all up for taking care of each other right now.

* * *

"Continue below" seems instructive, but it wasn't. Like I mentioned, the margins were haphazard and the CSS was all over the place. Some jpegs were straight up cropped off.

Meaning I can't be sure what "below" meant. But there were clickable images and text so I was readily intrigued.

It was tantalizing. Did I stumble into some secret order of Extremely Online Magicians? Maybe I'll finally find out why there aren't many female magicians out there. Maybe it's some sort of secret initiation to a secret message board full of secrety secrets. Secretly.

Y'all.

I didn't click on any of the linked images or anything. I closed the tab. That was the end of that.

An earlier version of myself would gladly run headlong into this rabbit hole to find out more and sink hours into some goddessforsaken labyrinth of links. But the current version of me recognizes this for what it almost certainly is: an abandoned roleplaying game.

Back in the early 00s when the internet was the realm of nerds and nerds only, it was full of people who loved sharing things for sharing's sake. It used to be punk rock to maintain a blog that only talked about snails or have a lo-fi YouTube channel that uploads biweekly 3-minute news about your house, or manage a little message board where people roleplay as wizards who rummage around the net looking for clues.

That last part was a thing I remember being actively involved in. In '03, a group of online friends and I wrote up a scavenger hunt of sorts where we sent people through various blog pages that we have where the goal is to just dick around and have fun. We wasted each other's time for sure. Hundreds of hours of it for literally no gain at all but for some laughs and fun memories.

The internet isn't like that anymore. People don't share something online for sharing anymore. Not really. There's this idea that if you put stuff out there, you want people's attention because numbers are good. You get a lotta reblogs and RTs and Likes which means people Like you.

If you don't have a lotta numbers, you don't matter. If you do, everyone has to talk about what you said or did because it's 'News' now.

Isn't that kinda gross, you think? That we need people to interact through an app to be sure that we're Liked? I say "we" but I mean me. I've successfully poisoned my brain to believe this to a certain extent too and it's not good.

I felt myself physically react when I closed that geocities magician website tab. I shuddered because my brain went from "this is cool" to "I gotta let people know I found this" to "this'll get me hella RTs" to "ew Muz why did you think that" within 3 seconds and I was disgusted with myself.

As a dude who started my online presence on YouTube and parlayed it into my real life comedy/writing career, I've believed for a long time that doing good work and putting it out there is what it takes for a working creative to make it because that's what I did. So there's this idea that making stuff and having it be seen is some kind of virtuous.

But it's not anymore. People pick fights with children for clout. Newspapers post about people's tweets as if its important. People are investing in crypto, a thing that literally only exists as electrical waste on a grand scale. We're boiling the oceans to yell at each other over nothing and exchange bits of code everyone agrees has ever-rising value but doesn't. Everyone is making and eating junk, it feels like.

So am I making junk? Have I just been making useless junk for literally over a decade now? Is that what I've been good for this entire time?

* * *

So the email.

It was a response from a company I applied to for a job. I applied as a creative writer and they're an advertising agency.

Receiving emails from a prospective employer when you're in need of a job is exciting! So soon after I applied, too. Wonderful. Here's what it said:

We just received your application today but would love to extend the opportunity for you to participate in the Case Competition as a prerequisite of your job application for Creative Writer position with [REDACTED] and stand a chance to be a winner for cash awards up to a total worth of RM1,800.

Yea.

They want me to enter a competition where I compete with other candidates to get a chance of being hired.

This company saw how many people applied for a job with them, and decided to dangle some cash and throw it over the fence to see which candidate will fight for it the most.

I didn't expect to feel vomitous after reading an email but that did it. I almost dry heaved. That's where we are now.

Recruiters see a glut of applicants and decided to play Fall Guys. These people watch Istana Takeshi and think Takeshi is the good guy. It hurts. It hurt me. That email caused me pain.

I can't at all empathise with recruiters who think this was okay to do. They really believed that creative writers will do a little dance for them just for money.

Look, I know we all need to eat. But I can also hate that people undervalue the work of creatives to this painful extent.

I don't give a shit about earning a lot of dough. I just wanna make things that tickle people. I want you to smile more.

That's the whole point of that weird little YouTube comment that led to the quirky website. That's the whole idea of making silly videos and dumb tweets and memes. We just want you to laugh.

But it seems people think so little of joy that they'll do whatever they can to avoid legitimately supporting and paying for stuff that gets them through the day. So much so that they want free work from us for the potential of maybe being able to get paid for more work. It breaks me, man.

I hate that I cannot make a living just trying my best to make people happy.

That's the best way I know to take care of you.

I know I don't just 'make junk' for a living. People have messaged me personally that my work has helped them get through tough times in school, in their relationships, at the office and I am eternally grateful that they took the time to tell me that.

I just also wish my feelings about my work aren't easily brought down by the majority of people who insist its worthless. Even if sometimes those people is me.

So forgive me if I won't be funny for a while. I'm gonna need some time to process this. Thank you for reading. I love you.