#at least she cals me by my last name

[plaid-n-converse]

had a coworker say she wasn't going to call me Isaac because it's "not my name" so im going to start biting people

#at least she cals me by my last name #but saying she wont use isaac was a fuckin rude and completely uncalled for #she said it because she heard a different coworker call me that #trans #ftm

[shady-tavern]

A Dash of Villainy within a Hero, Part Two

Part One can be found here. Warnings ahead for murder and mentioned/implied though not graphic torture, mind manipulation and human experiments. Please take care of yourselves.

***

'I know a place' Madness had said after Song had landed, dropping him first and keeping her wings slightly flared after touching down with you, keeping a wary eye on him. You knew the only reason she didn't protest his presence was her trust in you. She trusted that you had a reason for this.

So you had followed Madness with careful caution, for there was no way either of you would lead him to your little hideout for the conversation you all wanted to have.

And, well, considering the glimpses of what you had gotten this night, it looked like you would need allies. You had no idea if villain allies were the way to go, but in this instance it might be something to consider.

Madness led you through a complicated route after sending a text and receiving one in return. The old house he ended up stopping in front was most likely a safehouse that he was going to burn after bringing Song and you here.

To your surprise, there was already someone waiting inside. A kid, sixteen at most and once they opened their mouth and said, "Hey!" you immediately recognized Doctor.

You felt Song tense at your back, heard the ruffle of her wings. Song had always had a massive soft spot for kids and even you had to admit that it unsettled you whenever underage villains or heroes showed up. The latter at least were put into training and were sent out with mentors until they were eighteen, but villain kids seemed to have fewer protections.

You glanced at Madness and noticed the way he watched you and Song from the corner of his eye, the angle of his body. He was ready to protect the kid, no matter what and somehow that made you feel a little bit better.

You were suddenly glad that Doctor was largely known for breaking in and stealing or destroying things and less for going up against heroes the way Madness did. The thought of having attacked a kid made you feel vaguely ill.

"So, I heard you know about Phoenix Project now," Doctor said, casting a quick glance at Madness, their shoulders relaxing a tad at whatever they saw on his face.

"Someone tried to kidnap me last night," Song answered. "Do you know anything about that?"

Doctor glanced at Madness again, a silent conversation taking place that ended with Madness sighing and Doctor looking smugly happy.

"Possibly," Doctor said and reached over the counter of the kitchen island and produced a laptop. They opened it, tapping away with quick fingers and then held it out.

Song and you stepped forward, you taking the laptop while Song leaned a bit onto your back, one wing coming up to curl against you as she looked over your shoulder.

"We don't know a whole lot yet," Doctor said, voice quieter than before and you still tracked Madness from the corner of your eye as he came to stand beside the kid. 

His eyes were a slightly darker violet when you glanced up. He was trusting you around Doctor about as much as you trusted him around Song, it seemed.

Then you focused on what was on the laptop and the more you read, the grimmer you grew. Doctor and Madness had created a chart, heroes retiring without ever being seen again, or dying with no proper proof of their death. They had even dug up a few caskets, only to find them empty.

And then they had stumbled across the term Phoenix Project and had traced it back to The Defenders. Where you had most likely run into Madness after he had broken in.

And now you had the name of someone involved in whatever the project was, one of your higher ups.

"Why do you care?" Song asked, looking up while you studied the chart again. There were more heroes they considered 'missing' rather than dead than you had thought.

Doctor was silent for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "My older brother," they said quietly. "He was a hero and one day a year ago we got a call, that he died in the field. It was a closed casket funeral because of how mangled and burnt he supposedly was."

You glanced up and the kid looked angry and grieving and mulish. "I believed it at first," they continued. "But I kept thinking that something was off. When I asked his teammate, Quake, he was super evasive. And, uh, maybe one night I got super drunk and decided to dig him up. To see for myself that he was really gone. But his casket was empty."

Quake. It seemed he was another person you should chat with. You pulled out your phone after handing the laptop to a very quiet Song, showing Doctor and Madness the photos you had taken, catching them up on what you and Song knew.

Song glanced at you. "Guess who knows where Quake lives," she said and you found yourself grinning. It was not a nice grin.

"How about we extend our truce?" Madness offered and when you looked up, he had a smile on his face that looked the way your grin must have. "I bet my powers come in handy for interrogations."

As would yours. Song glanced between you and Madness and you could tell that she was imagining the sort of 'questioning' you two would create. She knew that you would not hesitate to hurt Quake in order to get your answers. 

You weren't as much of a good person as Song was. After what he had intended to do, what he had already done to Song, you absolutely were vindictive. A part of you hoped he would resist interrogation.

"If we do this," Song said quietly, "We may never be able to be heroes again."

"And if we do nothing and they catch up with us, I am dead and you will get dragged off to whatever and wherever this Phoenix Project is," you answered and she grimaced but didn't argue.

"Alright," Song said after a moment of silence, her voice grim. "I'll lead the way."

*.*.*

Quake was visibly agitated. He was pacing and continuously calling someone. Dawn was only just starting to break and despite this being a very long night, you were too wired to feel tired.

Whoever Quake wanted to contact, he clearly wasn't getting through.

Crouching side by side with Madness was...quite frankly, it was very weird. There was no way you trusted him, nor did you stop tracking his movements from the corner of your eye. It was best to be cautious, especially with someone who could mess with your mind at the drop of a hat.

"I can send him to sleep," Madness whispered and when you glanced at him, one brow raised, he shrugged. "My powers can do more than drive people to temporary insanity."

"Never would have guessed," you muttered and at his unimpressed look, you gestured for him to go ahead.

Madness moved cat-quiet, lowering himself from the ledge of the building to set down on the balcony across from Quake's home. You felt the hum of his power in the air, as did Quake, but he reacted too late. Most people reacted too late, and even then all one could do was try to run to escape from Madness' range.

Quake's eyes rolled back and he dropped limp to the floor. You felt Song's hand grip the back of your jacket and a moment later you were airborne. She dropped you onto Quake's balcony and landed, shifting her wing to the side to make space for Madness to leap across.

Breaking into the apartment was easy and it looked exactly like the sort of place a hero like Quake could afford. Until you looked closer and you saw that everything around you was expensive and new. 

From his fridge to his dishwasher, shiny marble countertops and solid wood furniture, things had been paid for with the sort of money Quake shouldn't have.

Little rat.

You dragged Quake away from the windows to his bedroom, where Madness pulled the curtain closed beforehand and Song took up a sentinel position.

"Alright, ready?" Madness asked as soon as Quake was tied to a chair and you gave him a nod. A moment later, Quake woke with a ragged gasp. He was, unsurprisingly, not pleased.

"Traitor," he hissed at you and you couldn't help but bark out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

"Pot, meet kettle," you said with a grin that was more a baring of teeth. "Tell me, how soon after Nightingale's disappearance would you have found a way to murder me?"

Quake grit his teeth but mulishly kept his mouth shut. "Madness," you said with such artificial sweetness your voice rivaled overly sweet, artificially colorful candy. "Would you like the honors?"

"My, I thought you would never ask," Madness answered with that same sort of over-the-top sugary sweet voice. "With pleasure."

He reached out a hand and you felt dark satisfaction at seeing Quake's eyes grow wide in fear. You shoved some of his balled up socks into his mouth just in time to muffle his howling.

Madness eased up after a moment and Quake was panting, his face having rapidly grown damp with sweat. He spat out his socks, shivering and gasping and his eyes were darting from side to side wildly.

From witness accounts you knew, while people didn't remember whatever Madness had put into their heads, the intense fear lingered. It faded within a half an hour, leaving them confused and vaguely unsettled, but nothing else.

"Now," you said and snapped your fingers together, creating brief sparks. "Wanna talk or do I get to play too?"

Quake swallowed harshly and audibly and you saw the exact moment he caved, the panicked hopelessness that gave way to grim resignation. Pity, you really would have loved to hurt him a bit for what he had done to Song.

"I'll tell you what I know," he grit out and you clapped your hands together, smiling brightly.

"How lovely, but do be truthful or my new friend here is going to have another jaunt in your gray matter."

Madness shifted his stance to something smugly satisfied, looking for all the world like a relaxed big cat after a successful hunt. "Indeed. Now, what do you know about the Phoenix Project?"

Quake swallowed again and seemed to want to resist just a little anyway – hero pride, you didn't blame him for that – before he caved, "I know they want heroes for it. The occasional villain too." He shrugged. "It's not really like the public can check the prison records."

You hadn't even thought about how unexpectedly...vulnerable captured villains could be. Considering the way a muscle in Madness's cheek jumped, neither had he.

"Who is involved?" Madness asked and Quake wet his lips.

"I don't know." He saw you lift your hand and Madness' eyes grew dark and hurriedly added, "I'm serious. I get a burner phone and laptop when I'm supposed to get them a hero or a villain."

"Who introduced you to them?" you asked and Quake looked away.

"I...might have done some illegal things," he said, shoulders hunching a bit. "And whoever 'they' are, they found out. I had a package delivered home, with copies of their evidence and demands to do what they wanted or I could kiss my job and reputation goodbye."

"And people like you dare to call themselves heroes," Madness sneered and you couldn't help but agree. What a selfish coward.

Quake gave up the rest of the information willingly. He told you which devices the information was on, that he had tried to gather as much blackmail as he could in return. He told you the passwords for all of his things and at last, Madness reached out and touched his forehead.

Quake went limp, staring dully into nothing, his breathing slow and even.

"Don't ask what I did," Madness said without looking at you. "And don't say he didn't deserve it."

You could take an educated guess on what he might have done, considering Quake's catatonic, empty eyed state. You shrugged. "I won't complain." Madness looked at you, surprise openly visible on his face.

You held his gaze. "Don't think you're the only vindictive one, Madness. He hurt my friend and tried to kill me and he has done so to other heroes in the past. Leave him trapped in nightmares for eternity for all I care."

As you left to join Song in the living room and start collecting Quake's things, you felt Madness' gaze on your back. Weirdly enough, the hostile air from before was gone.

Instead, he seemed almost...thoughtful.

*.*.*

Madness was infuriating and maddening and brilliant and you had to admit, after weeks of working together to uncover more about Phoenix Project, he was, maybe, possibly, perhaps growing on you. Like stinky fungus.

You could admit that you were grateful to him and Doctor. Thanks to the two villains Song and you had an actually safe place to hide in without going mad in the process. They offered protection as well, more than Song and you would have had on your own.

And tonight, at long last, you had a chance to get your hands at your former superior. Both Song and you had been declared rogues and to be captured upon sight for questioning. 

Song, sadly, had a hard time going anywhere incognito, her wings were a dead giveaway, so she was staying in the hideout a lot. It wasn't easy on her, but Doctor had found an old factory, a place with incredibly high ceilings so she could at least fly around and train.

Which meant you were teaming up with Madness in the meantime.

You once again crouched at the ledge of a building and watched the woman you were after leave her car, her butler opening the door to her mansion for her. The very same mansion you were already crouching on, ready to strike.

"Pretentious," you muttered, just as Madness whispered, "Tacky."

You didn't look at him, but you felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. It was perhaps softer than the usual sharp, toothy smiles that you aimed his way.

"Let's go," you whispered and got up, Madness following you.

With your powers it was easy enough to disable the lock on the rooftop door and slip inside. Madness took care of all the guards, though he was far gentler with the maid and butler, who he caught after putting them into a dreamless sleep for the next hour or so.

And then you were back to the fun part: questioning assholes.

The woman, a hero who had retired early and had made a ridiculous amount of money by taking a top-notch position in The Defenders, blustered and threatened but caved almost just as quickly as Quake head.

One of these days you'd have to ask Madness what exactly he was putting into people's heads.

This time, at least, you got some zaps in before the former hero, Paralytica, gave up. She had far, far more information than Quake and while it took some more persuading in-between the questions, you at last got names. You got names and you got a place.

"You won't get away with this," Paralytica snarled, sweating and panting and trembling slightly in the chair she was tied to. 

You sent all the information on her computer to Doctor, who would make sure nothing could be traced back to them. Her gaze burned into your side. "I will have you hunted down like the mangy dog you are."

Before you could so much as roll your eyes, Madness had gripped her head, making her flinch and go very still, her eyes wide. "And yet, somehow, this 'mangy dog' is worth more than all of you combined." Madness' eyes were a dark violet when they met your surprised gaze. "I might even start believing in heroes again."

You looked away, a near overwhelming mixture of emotions rising within you at his words. You felt touched and all soft and gooey-sweet inside and at the same time, you wanted to bluster and curse at him. Stupid asshole, what was his deal, saying nice things out of nowhere? That wasn't what you did, you sniped and argued and verbally elbow-checked each other. Not whatever...whatever this was.

"We're done here," you said just as the door was kicked down and previously silent heroes rushed in.

Paralytica had just one second of smirking in ugly triumph, before Madness' eyes turned almost black, his grip on her head tightening. She went limp, staring into nothing like Quake had, while the two of you sprung into hurried movement.

Madness wanted to fight, but when you hauled ass for the window, to your surprise, he followed instead of going on the offense. You jumped first, arms raised to protect your face, while he tossed out his powers, sending the all but one of the heroes to their knees with screeching, blood curdling screams.

You landed on soft grass, surrounded by glass shards and looking up just as Madness was forced to topple backwards out the window by a powerful, telekinetic wave. Huh. The Defenders had dug out one of ten people capable of withstanding Madness' powers it seemed. 

You didn't even think about it as you took a step forward, arms rising and you grunted as you caught him. He wasn't too heavy thankfully, especially since you were used to lugging Song's weight around in training.

His eyes were wide in surprise and the next moment you tightened your grip and zipped away with him. You were faster than Madness, even with his added weight. You were among the top ten fastest heroes currently employed in The Defenders and it really came in handy right now. 

Or well, formerly employed, you were pretty sure after today at the latest your fellow heroes would no longer consider you one of them.

The moment you were far enough from the mansion, you set Madness down, clapping him on the shoulder, "Let's scram."

You felt his gaze on your back again, staring and strangely heated.

*.*.*

You winced when you heard something break, exchanging a look with Song. Doctor wanted to come to the location where the Phoenix Project was supposedly taking place, while Madness was very much not in agreement. They were arguing very loudly and intensely.

"I'm not letting you risk your life!" Madness shouted.

"That is not your decision!" Doctor screamed back. "This is about my brother, you fucking asshole. I know you don't care, but I sure as shit do -"

"I care about you," Madness snapped back, Doctor falling silent. In a forcibly calmer voice, Madness continued, "I want you to have a life, to actually get to enjoy having your brother back. He'll need you. Whatever they've done to him in that hellhole, he's not going to be alright."

"If he's alive at all." You could barely heard Doctor's voice now. "And he'll be so disappointed in me. He always said I could do so much good with my brain."

"And you will," Madness said, voice as unyielding as the ocean tide. "Look at all your inventions, at all the good you will do for the medical field once you are ready. He can't blame you for taking what routes you had available in order to find him. Just let me go in and help me from the outside, like usual. Alright?"

"But what if something happens to you?" Doctor's voice was unexpectedly small. "I don't have anyone else, you know? No one else listened to some scrawny kid, especially not a dead hero's sibling."

"I'm not alone," Madness said and you felt a jolt at surprise at his words. You hadn't expected that he'd believe Song and you would watch his back. And you would protect him, you owed the infuriating man that much at least. "I'll have someone at my side and you for backup."

Doctor huffed a soft sound that was almost a laugh. "I thought heroes were pretentious bullshit people selling a long dead dream?"

"Most of them are. But...maybe there are one or two that are alright," Madness said and his voice had gone a little softer around the edges in a way that did funny things to your insides. 

Oh. ...oh fuck no.

When you glanced at Song, feeling slightly panicky, she blinked, then snorted. "Finally figured it out, huh?"

You made a face at her, she made one right back and you gladly hopped upon the distraction. That was how Doctor and Madness found you, with your tongue sticking out at Song, who was wriggling her fingers at you beside her temples.

"Children," Madness said with a mock-heavy voice. "I am surrounded by children."

"And I am surrounded by idiots, but what else is new," Doctor shot back and before you knew it, you were laughing.

It was a mixture of stress release, nervous realization about feelings and giddy anticipation for the upcoming infiltration. Along with the simple fact that Doctor was right, they were incredibly smart. 

It had also been a while since you had last laughed like this and Song's smile turned warm, one of her wings extending to curl around your shoulders.

To your surprise, even Madness seemed to soften, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth that had no right to look this cute. You forcibly shook the thought away. You had no reason to look at a villain and consider him cute. That would only end in disaster. Any of these newly realized, far too soft and squishy feelings would only end in disaster.

Heroes and villains didn't work out, that was a song as old as time.

"So," Song said, removing her wing to shake them both out. "What's the plan?"

The plan wasn't overly complicated. None of you were under any illusions about this. You didn't have the forces to storm the old prison the Phoenix Project was in, but you could infiltrate the place, set as many if not all of the captives free and gather enough information to present a case to fellow villains and heroes respectively.

The Defenders itself wasn't involved in the whole thing, but enough people in high positions along with a good handful of heroes were corrupt to cause problems. You would need a lot of good, hard evidence to convince everyone else of the truth. To make them fight back and clean the rot out of their ranks.

Villains didn't care about the troubles of heroes, but they would not like the thought of getting kidnapped once heroes defeated and imprisoned them either. Most villains were solo fighters and crusaders, but Madness had mentioned that there was a sort of unspoken codex. 

That sometimes, if necessary, all the different people and factions worked together to protect their collective future. And considering that goal of the Phoenix Project was to create synthetic powers or transplant powers, this would be of interest to many.

Who knew what other goals the Phoenix Project had, Paralytica hadn't known everything after all. She had just been interested in making more money.

"Song and I will create chaos," Madness said. "While Doctor's robot and you will infiltrate the building."

"I insulated my little helper well enough that he should be able to withstand your powers to a certain degree," Doctor said when you glanced at them. "And I can make it explode if necessary. It packs quite the punch."

Which was how you found yourself squished into a box in the back of a truck. Doctor had been the one to figure out the deliver routes to the old prison and now you were going to infiltrate the place through the backdoor. With a robot squished in beside you, all hard metal edges that were going to leave some weird looking bruises.

You were meant to wait until chaos broke out and sneak your way further in, hopefully encountering less resistance. No one would look at the delivery ramp when Song and Madness were attacking one of the side entrances. The main entrance would have made it too obvious that they were just the diversion.

The moment the box was set down with a grunt and people complaining how heavy it was, alarm sirens rang out shrilly and shouts were heard muffled through doors.

You waited until you couldn't hear rushing footsteps anymore, before you cracked the top of the crate open and slipped outside. Doctor's robot followed you silently and with surprising smoothness. The kid was really going to revolutionize so many fields once they went public with their inventions.

You had a comparatively easy time slipping inside, knocking out distracted guards as you went. Doctor's sleeping darts helped a lot too, if you couldn't sneak up on people to touch them.

You got a brief glance out the window once to see Song and Madness fighting in tandem, people littering the ground around them. Some were clutching their heads, screaming, others just grew slow and sluggish and then fell asleep the moment they heard Song's lullaby.

They were a nasty team, you had to admit. If Song had turned to villainy instead of heroism and those two had ended up working together, the world of heroics might just have been thoroughly fucked. 

"This way," Doctor hissed through the speaker on the robot, which looked more like some kind of alien dog than humanoid. They had mentioned it had made balancing easier at the time of its creation.

Doctor and you made it up to the main control room, which doubled as an office for the big boss, with relative ease. You cracked open windows along the way to let Song's song in, your special ear plugs – made back when Song and you first started heroing – the only thing currently keeping you safe. 

People inside the building grew ever more sluggish and sleepy, which made it easier to take them out. If they weren't already asleep by the time you snuck past them.

"I'll get the data," Doctor said the moment you knocked out the big boss of the place – a tall, muscular man with a shaved head that had turned a startling, angry red when he had spotted you too late. "You go free the prisoners."

You went to the control panel at the side of the room and started flicking switches. On the monitors cell doors opened with metallic screeching and the first person stepped outside. 

You were horrified to recognize her as Supernova, a famous hero celebrity that had been widely mourned after her death. Even on the slightly grainy feed she looked half skeletal and very, very desperately determined.

You bit back a wince when she immediately tossed out her powers, shredding guards that rushed towards her with a miniature black hole. Supernova had never killed before, if anything she had been so very careful to never hurt anyone with her destructive powers. She staggered and sagged, only to be caught by a villain who had rushed out of the neighboring cell. 

You recognized that one too. Their name was Sun and they pulled one of Supernova's arms over their shoulders, slamming a foot against the ground and making it erupt with intense enough fire and heat that you heard people scream somewhere outside the camera focus.

More and more heroes and villains left their cells, all working together to break out. To help each other escape. Not a single one was left behind. It seemed you wouldn't have to tear the place down later after all, not much would be left standing in the aftermath of their escape. Good.

"My brother?" Doctor asked, sounding half focused and half desperate.

"I haven't seen him in the cells," you answered and you heard the click-clack of the keyboard grow faster.

"Found him!" Doctor half shouted. "He's currently in one of the examination rooms."

"I'll go get him," you said. "You focus on downloading everything."

"Understood," Doctor's robot looked up briefly, the single camera lens visibly focusing on you. "Please, be careful."

You threw him a quick salute before you slipped out of the room. The old prison was in such brutal chaos, people running and rushing about, the smart ones even running away, that you had it laughably easy.

The examination rooms were half filled with doctors and a handful of heroes and villains when you arrived. The electronic doors were locked and the doctors looked tense but vaguely, grimly victorious at the same time. They considered themselves safe, behind these thick, reinforced doors that could withstand a lot of superpowers.

But this was where your powers really came in handy, because they could not keep you out if you fried their pretty little mechanical doors to death.

Those doors always clicked open when they were overloaded, a safety mechanism to avoid locking people in, in case of emergencies. They had to be able to leave if they wanted to after all. You made quick work of the doctors, most which had no powers at all.

The second you had knocked out the first set of doctors and freed two of the people on the tables, they threw themselves into the fight alongside you. They didn't have much stamina anymore, but they were fierce, bringing with them a brutality born out of a soul-deep desperation to finally make it out. They knew this might very well be their only chance to escape.

You found Doctor's brother last, he was unconscious and looked rather awful. Scarred and thin and visibly exhausted even as he laid there limply. You pulled the needle out of his arm – it was most likely feeding him sedatives – and threw him over your shoulder.

"Everyone out," you shouted just as the last doctor fell after a big, burly woman had grabbed his head and slammed it hard enough against the wall that you knew this man was never going to get up again.

In all honesty, you did not care, there was even a part of you that felt quietly and darkly vindictive. If anyone asked you, those people had gotten their just desserts – if anything, they deserved worse.

As you led the group of limping, swaying people up the stairs, most of them supporting each other to keep going, acrid and thick smells filled the air. Smoke and acid and ozone, along with something that tasted metallic on your tongue.

You made it past people half dissolved in acid, past scorch marks and walls that looked like they had turned liquid and pierced inward, impaling guards, before turning solid again.

Doctor's robot slid up to your side as you rushed towards the delivery hangar and you heard his audible gasp as he saw his brother across your shoulder.

You heard more gasps and even a sob as you broke out the door and into sunlight. There was an audible fight still going on elsewhere, so you entrusted Doctor's brother to his robot and told the group to follow them. They'd be led to safety.

When you joined the main fight, it was a brutal showdown between the fighting forces of the old prison, along with some suit and ties that had shown up and the banded together heroes and villains.

Most of them were no longer capable of battle however, swaying in place and some were already crumpled on the floor. Song had stopped her lullaby and was now swooping in and out of the rows of enemies, knocking people over, while Madness extended his powers further.

When you reached his side, he was out of breath and sweat was rolling down his chin.

"We're ready to leave," you told him and he grinned briefly, an expression of such fierce, relieved victory that you could only grin back. "Don't hit me with your shit."

With those words you threw yourself into the fray, dodging around the guards to square up with the three suit and ties, for they had brought rather strong powers with them. If you could take them out, everyone could get away with little trouble.

They were nasty pieces of work, forcing you to duck below blades thrown by telekinesis – and the bodies of some of the guards – as well as dodge conjured vines that wanted to tie you down.

One vine snapped around your arm, ready to fling you back and you grit your teeth against the pain as you threw yourself forward. You heard a bone crunch before you felt the pain, a dagger slicing past your cheek, another finding the meat of your thigh.

But now you were right in front of them and they clearly had no idea who you were outside of your hero costume, for they did not dodge back. Their eyes grew wide in realization when the one with the vine powers crumbled at a single touch and now they were hurriedly trying to get away.

Which was when Song swooped in from overhead, dropping her full weight on the suit and tie to the left, arching her wings up high to ensure she would not block your path.

Her rapid descending and distraction was all the chance you needed. You slammed the bare palm of your good hand against the woman's nose, who fell like a sack of bricks, daggers clattering to the ground as her limbs twitched slightly.

"Are you alright?" Song asked, wings snapping out to topple two guards that tried to rush in.

"I'll be fine," you said, her gaze already spotting the knife in your leg and your awkwardly held arm. A heavy wave of power in the air caused the rest of the guards to scream, all of them dropping their weapons, half of them running away, the other half clawing at their own skin.

You'd really have to ask Madness about the details on his powers one of these days. Song gripped you around the waist and with a quick hop and flap of her wings, brought you back to Madness and the rescued heroes and villains.

Madness' face grew tense and pinched when he saw you, eyes briefly turning black, before he exhaled roughly and focused on getting everyone up and moving.

At least the escape part was easy enough with the old prison utterly disabled. It was in a remote location, so no one had to worry about outside help arriving. Not that anyone in that cursed place would have called The Defenders for help, they wouldn't want the scrutiny after all.

You got first aid treatment by none other than Madness. His hands were surprisingly gentle, while Song pointed out all the cars around the place, getting the rescued heroes and villains organized. 

They were soon ready to head to a pre-prepared place to group up and decide what they wanted to do. They would need proper medical treatment soon though, that was for sure.

You drove back with Madness and Supernova and Sun, the two considered-dead people conked out on the backseat, while Song flew overhead to watch for danger. She wouldn't have fit in the car anyway, not with passengers and her large wings.

"Get some rest," Madness said after a couple of minutes of silence. "If you think you can sleep around a villain."

You snorted and closed your eyes. The pain meds you had gotten were really starting to kick in. "I let you at my injuries, didn't I? And I think our truce can extend until we're all ready to go home."

Madness just hummed quietly. "Could be more than a truce," he muttered, but by then you were already slipping off to sleep, so you weren't sure if you imagined it or not.

*.*.*

The Phoenix Project made headlines everywhere. Doctor had made sure this horror story could not and would not be kept secret by anyone who wanted to keep heroes from looking bad.

The Defenders had a lot of hard work ahead of them, convincing the public that they were still trustworthy, that arrested people would not disappear without a trace again. That the heroes they employed could not be bribed too.

Song and you, meanwhile, were lauded as heroes. As in, a different kind of heroes. The kind that, well, that heroes were meant to be. Saviors, defenders of the weak. People who did the right thing, no matter who else was against them.

It was weird, was what it was. Song and you picked a new apartment with the help of Doctor, who made sure no word of its location got out. The kid had contacted you a couple of days after everything started blowing up, letting you know that they were hanging up the villain mantle.

They wanted to go back to school instead and take care of their brother. Though, they had mentioned that Madness was helping them get allies so that, when they did decide to present their inventions to the public in a year or two, no one would take advantage of them.

Madness had gone quiet and you were absolutely not thinking about that one frigging bit. He was a villain, you were a hero and your truce was over. You'd go back to the regularly scheduled program soon enough.

"Don't look so sour," Song said as she fixed her dress, turning once to show off the way it swirled and sparkled. Her wings were freshly groomed and shone beautifully in the overhead light. "How do I look?"

"Drop dead gorgeous," you answered honestly. "If people don't lay themselves at your feet so you can step on them, I will be sorely disappointed."

She laughed, reaching over to haul you into a tight hug, her wings encircling you. You hugged her back, some tension leeching out of you.

"Let's have a good night, alright?" Song said. "We deserve that much after all that we've been through."

"It's a party in our honor, it's going to be weird," you said and Song snorted.

"It's a party to celebrate the survivors. And maybe us, a little bit." She pulled back to grin down at you. "But what this really means is that we get to eat all the cute little fingerfood and if anyone looks at us weirdly, we just remind them that we were the ones to save the day."

You couldn't help but laugh, giving her arms a pat. "Alright, you win. But if I get tired, I'll just go home."

"Let me know and I'll go with you," Song offered. "We can put in one of the movies that came out while we were in hiding. I'll go make drinks and you make popcorn and we kick back for the rest of the night."

That actually sounded preferable to the party, but you had already agreed to show up. And, as Song said, the fingerfood was amazing. To die for, really.

The party was, indeed, a little bit of a stiff affair. Or rather, it was meant to present a united front to the press, show forgiveness on the side of the survivors and it allowed people to network.

You spoke with a couple of the rescued heroes that had shown up, Supernova frowning heavily and looking ready to bolt. You didn't mention the sun necklace she was wearing and fiddling with like it was a good luck pendant.

"Hey," a familiar, cheerful voice chirped behind you, just as you gathered as much fingerfood as your plate could hold. The server meanwhile looked on in horrified awe.

Surprised you turned around to see Doctor with their older brother. The brother looked miles better since you had last seen him. While he was still a bit gaunt, he had lost much of his thinness and his smile was sweet and charming, if a bit tired. 

His scars had faded a bit too, clearly the work of some great medical care. You wouldn't be surprised if Doctor played a part in that.

"My little sibling said I have you to thank for freeing me," he said and held out his hand. You quickly handed your heavily laden plate to the poor server, shaking his hand and then taking the plate back before any of the precariously stacked fingerfood could tumble to a sad little floor-death.

"No thanks necessary, but I am glad to see you're doing better," you answered, while Doctor stood beside you grinning and swaying back and forth a bit on their feet.

"Oh, I doubt you are as glad as I am," the brother answered, only for the smile to slip and crack like fragile glass. "I thought I was going to die in there," he said quietly and Doctor's cheer vanished instantly. "We all did. And then you guys showed up. You have no idea how grateful we are."

This was making you uncomfortable. "Are you still in contact with the others?"

He gave you a surprisingly sharp look, before relaxing a bit. "Yeah, we meet once a month to talk about things. In there...being a hero or a villain stopped meaning anything." He smiled a sad, shy little smile. "Can't count the amount of times a villain held me while I cried."

He cleared his throat, quickly moving on before you could respond. "But that doesn't matter anymore. Now all that matters is healing and making sure my sibling doesn't drop out of school. Again." The last word was said with a bit of reprimand.

You couldn't help but glance at Doctor, wondering if they had told their brother what they had been up to during his presumed death. Considering the stiff, warning smile Doctor gave you, they had said nothing. Fair enough.

"Are you going to eat all that?" Doctor asked instead, nodding at your full plate. 

"Double if no one stops me," you said, which made both of them chuckle.

"Don't let us keep you, then," the brother said. "And, again, thank you. You're my hero." Well, now you felt too touched for words.

Mumbling something incoherent but vaguely nice sounding, you shuffled off to one of the open balconies to eat your fingerfood in peace. Your position gave you a good look across the large ballroom, where Song was dazzling a group of people with an adoring shine in their eyes. 

She deserved it and considering the brief wink she threw your way, she was making sure to hog all the limelight to give you some peace and quiet. If Song ever wanted the world, you'd damn well fetch it for her.

Your gaze wandered and you nearly choked on a piece of food when you saw Madness of all people brazenly striding towards you.

"How?" you said when he leaned against the balcony railing at your side. "are you here?"

He tapped his temple. "People think I'm Doctor's uncle, they don't see me when they look at me."

...you really had to ask him about his powers in detail one of these days. Well, if he ever properly talked with you instead of going radio silent.

"The brother must know you're no uncle of theirs," you pointed out, instead of asking him why he was talking to you now when he hadn't reached out once since the prison breakout. Since bandaging your leg and putting your arm into a temporary sling.

"He knows who I am," Madness answered. "Doctor said I was the one they reached out to for help. They are hiding what they've been up to, though I think their brother is going to find out soon enough." 

Doctor's little jaunt into villainy was hard to ignore, that was true. You hummed in agreement and you half expected Madness to move on. That he had just come here to say hello and keep you from making a scene.

"Why come talk to me?" you asked when he just...remained. Quiet and steady at your side. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

Madness was silent for a long second, then he took a deep breath and straightened. His shoulders rolled back like he was ready to fight, but he didn't feel dangerous. You were still ready to toss your plate of fingerfood at him as a distraction.

"I tried to forget you," Madness said, his words surprising you enough that you paused. "I thought it was for the best. But I couldn't and when I saw you here today...well, I'm a villain. Taking every chance I can to get the things I want is what I do, isn't it?"

You stared at him, befuddled and you allowed him to, ever so gently, take the plate of food from your hands and put it onto the wide railing of the balcony beside you.

"If I overstep let me know and you'll never hear another word from me," he said and his fingertips brushed your hands, leaving warm tingles behind. "But if there is a chance you are interested in me the way I am in you..."

He trailed off, his pale eyes searching yours, hopeful and hesitant in a way you hadn't really seen him before. He was...he was actually showing vulnerability right now. It made you swallow.

"It would never work," you said, because that was the first thing that always came to your mind when you thought about kissing him or holding his hand. About reaching out to him. "We're on two opposite sides of the law. Maybe it's fun at first, but what afterwards? When we have to keep hiding things, have to clash out there in battle?"

Madness didn't brush you off, growing more serious instead, while the hope in his eyes sparked brighter. "You and I are going to retire one day," he said. "Maybe even soon, our lot rarely grows old in this field of work. And I would refrain from attacking you, no matter what."

"It would be hard to make this work," you pointed out, gesturing between you and him, but considering how his eyes sparked with a challenge accepted, that wasn't a problem. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't like heroes."

"I don't," he agreed easily. "But you're different." He tipped his head slightly to the side. "There is a dash of villain in you, isn't there?"

You could admit that he was right and maybe, there was sometimes a bit more than just a dash. You knew that if Song turned to villainy for some reason – it would be a good reason, knowing her – you'd ultimately end up following her.

"My morals are...flexible, sometimes," you admitted. There was a reason why Song was your anchor and compass, your lodestone. Why her light guided your way and you knew, if someone ever took her from you, you would not stop until that person was dead.

Madness smiled and you liked it. A lot. You liked the way he looked at you, as if you were something amazing. As if he never wanted to look away.

He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a beautiful bracelet. "Doctor made this for me, it blocks my powers." And, just like that, he held it out to you.

"Why trust me like this?" you couldn't help but ask and his answering, crooked smile had no right to be this charming and sweet.

"Because you never used a situation against me," he answered, with an earnest shine in his eyes that made you want to look away, your heart going all soft and vulnerable. "Not when the building collapsed and you had the upper hand, nor any time later when you could have just knocked me out with a touch."

"I don't even know your name," you said. 

When you didn't move to take the bracelet, he took your hand carefully, turning it palm up to press the cold metal against your skin, curling your fingers closed around it. Once you put this on, he wouldn't be able to use his powers against you, not even in defense should you decide to turn on him.

"Then I'll tell you," he said quietly, his free hand coming up, slowly enough for you to pull back. When you didn't, he cupped the side of your face, this thumb brushing gently over your cheek. "And anything else you want to know."

"We'll need as safeword," you blurted out, because this was already getting too important to mess up needlessly. "When we do encounter ourselves or just in general, to make this work." To not hurt each other by being heroes and villains.

"What do you propose?" he asked and you almost said tic-tac-toe, but that was kind of long, wasn't it? Before you could say something, his eye brightened with mirth. "How about checkers?"

You huffed. "I did have you beat in checkers."

He laughed, low and amused and very fond. You were fonder of him yourself than you liked to admit on your good days. "Keep telling yourself that, my villainous hero. Checkers it is. So, what do you say? Want to give me, us, a chance?"

You tightened your grip around the bracelet and leaned your cheek into his palm. His eyes darkened with want and something soft as you allowed him to cradle you. As you allowed him so close to your mind that he could ruin you, could destroy you forever, before you could ever hope to stop him.

"Touch civilians or Nightingale and I will end you," you said, a steel-solid promise uttered in a low, dangerous voice that made a darkly pleased grin appear on his face. He liked you sharp, he liked it when you showed that villainous streak that lurked below the surface. "Alright. Tell me your name, Madness, and then kiss me."

And so he did.

*.*.*

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#my writing #short story #part two #heroes and villains #hero x villain #superpowers #I hope you'll like it! #this story was a lot of fun to write #thank you for reading!

[mrs-murder-daddy]

A/N: It's finally here, and it's only part one! I'm so sorry everyone but I've been fucking miserable for the last few months. But I'm here, I promise!

Requests are also open for BoB and MotA!

The Heart of the Ocean (Part One)

Gale "Buck" Cleven x Reader

The stateroom is much smaller than you anticipated, though perhaps your expectations were too high. After all, this is just a boat with a lot of people on it.

It feels suffocating, though perhaps that’s a consequence of your circumstances more than your room. 

You stare at yourself in the vanity’s mirror. You look tired, but maybe you should cut yourself some slack. You’re getting married in a few weeks. Every bride looks this sallow before their wedding day.

There’s a knock on the door, gentle and polite. You haven’t even responded when it opens. Caledon Hockley, your fiance, walks in. If you had never spoken to the man, you’d say that smile on his face is genuine.

He brandishes a velvet jewellery box and presents it to you with all the showmanship of a salesman. You’re not sure why. You’re marrying the bastard, not buying a house from him.

Cal crowds up behind you, opening the box, expecting you to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over it. He gives you some long speech about how the diamond used to belong to some long dead king. All you can do is stare. It’s so… big. It’s gaudy and awful. At least it matches your engagement ring.

He clasps the necklace, the chain feeling rather literal. He kisses your temple and grins at his most prized possession. You paste on a smile and thank him for his kindness. As he leaves, reminding you of the lunch you were already supposed to be at, you wrap a hand around the massive blue diamond. It’ll at least weigh me down, you joke.

Despite your mother’s hatred of her, Mrs Margaret “my-friends-call-me-Molly” Brown is the only person you can talk to that actually listens. You walk into the dining room for lunch, hands gently wrapped around one of Cal’s arms and the first thing you hear is, “that necklace is gorgeous darling!”

Your mother fawns over it and you almost tell her to just take it if she wants it so bad. 

Molly says, “Not as beautiful as the woman wearing it.”

Her beaming smile is not enough to distract you from your mother’s eye roll, but it is enough for you to respond with a genuine thanks. You can’t remember the last time you got a compliment.

Stuck at a table between a rock (Cal) and a hard place (your mother), you wait anxiously to eat. You would listen to the conversations around you, but it’s mostly your mother bragging about the family you’re marrying into, and the men discussing which type of cigar they’ll smoke next or other trivial nonsense.

When the waiter approaches, you perk up. but Cal takes over. “We'll both have the lamb, medium-rare with very little mint sauce.” He turns to you and pats your hand, “You like lamb, don't you sweet-pea?”

You stare at him silently, god his face was just so punchable. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that there’s an audience. “Of course, darling.”

Molly jumps in, noticing the distinct pinch of your mouth. “You gonna cut her meat for her, too, Cal?” The table bursts into laughter and even your fiance forces a tight smile.

The food is not quite to your taste, the bitterness of Cal’s mistreatment tainting your meal. But the conversation takes a turn for the better.

Molly posits, “So, how do ya reckon they got to the name Titanic?”

An older fellow married to a woman 3 years your junior speaks up, “Well the name obviously conveys size, thus it also conveys strength.”

You jump in, “Perhaps Dr Freud’s ideas about the male preoccupation with size will interest you, Mr Higginbotham.”

Your mother pinches your thigh again and you jolt. The conversation changes once more and even Molly’s boisterous laughter can’t calm your temper. You excuse yourself and race outside for some fresh air.

The ocean breeze cools you down somewhat. You bask in the sun’s rays, gripping the rail in front of you and leaning back just a little.

Your reverie is interrupted by a loud shout of “Miss!”

You look down to see two brunets wrestling playfully. Their blonde friend shakes his head before looking up at you. Your knees turn to butter. He’s quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

The two of you stare at each other for so long, his friends have stopped wrestling, instead looking between you two like a tennis match. The Greek statue below only stops the staring contest when a frown takes over.

Your own face falls when you realise why: Cal. Your fiance grips your arm and begins to berate you quietly while dragging you back inside.

But the beautiful blonde man is all you see. His smile as his friends begin to tease is enough to feed you for a lifetime.

Dinner is much the same, only your noose feels tighter than before. Your newfound wealth is still the only topic of conversation your mother cares about and your fiance is content to make every little decision for you.

Of all your companions, at least Molly Brown tries to reach out with some gentle questions about the wedding. Cal fields all of them, he and your mother having planned everything to the very flowers of your bouquet.

Your ears begin to ring. Your mother over one shoulder, your fiance over the other. A hand touches yours lightly. It’s gloved but still warm. Molly’s Southern accent cuts through the rest of the conversation.

“You okay darling?”

You nod and beam brightly. “Of course, just excited for the wedding.”

It’s clearly not enough for her. Then an icy glare from the people either side of you reminds her of your precarious position.

“Well who wouldn’t be? It all sounds so beautiful!”

You power through dinner, Cal ordered the beef for you both, though you would rather have eaten dirt.

He kisses your gloved hand as the men retire to the smoking room. Molly rubs your shoulder gently as she bids you goodbye. 

Your mother hisses at you for acting up. You simply smile apologetically and ask to get some fresh air. She waves you off with an angry “I’ll see you later.”

Thankfully, no one else is on deck as you sprint across the wood. Your chest is heaving with panicked breaths and barely concealed sobs. The theatrics catch the attention of a man laying on a bench staring up at the stars.

You crash into the rail at the stern of the ship and hastily climb over. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as the wind brushes past your face, cooling the tears on your cheeks.

The skin over your knuckles stretches as you cling to the only tether you have left. The water looks cold but so inviting.

Then a voice. It’s quiet and gentle, but it nearly startles you into letting go. 

“Easy, easy, didn’t mean to scare you.” He approaches, palms up in surrender.

“Go away.” You’re beyond embarrassed to have someone witness your breakdown. Your consideration of the unthinkable.

“Well that I’m not gonna do.” He creeps closer like you’re a wounded animal. It’s perhaps a cliche, but you imagine that’s what you are. Hunted for your beauty and trapped in the snare of a loveless marriage.

“You should leave. If you know what’s good for you.” You wish your voice sounds stronger. The creaking of your throat doesn’t make you sound very intimidating.

He just sighs and sits down on the deck. He begins to… remove his shoes? You frown and look over your shoulder as much as you can.

“What are you doing?”

“If you’re going down there,” he nods to the water below you, “I’m coming after you. And these are a new pair. Can’t get ‘em all soggy.”

You begin to laugh, a little hysterically. “That water’s freezing. There’s no way you’ll jump after me.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.” He stands up and begins to remove his jacket. Your face grows serious once more. His shoulders are broad, he must be a steel worker or something. But his face is too pretty for that kind of work. “You know a fall from this height into water, it’s like hitting pavement. Then you add the freezing water and-“ he hissed through his teeth.

You take another look, it is a very long way down. How did you not notice that before? A few moments of contemplative silence pass and the broad shouldered man moves closer.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You ever feel alone? Like truly alone in the world.”

He frowns sympathetically, “Can’t say I have, ma’am.”

You smile sadly. “That’s good.” Your hands begin to loosen their grip. 

His voice now sounds like it’s right next to you, but you can’t bring yourself to look. “Maybe you should come back over this rail and tell me all about it. Maybe I can help you.”

A sad little smile appears on your face. “I wish you could.” 

Then warmth wraps around your wrist. The man’s hands are calloused but much softer than you expected. 

“You never know if you don’t try.” He’s practically begging, anxiously waiting for your response.

You turn your head to look at him, tears threatening to choke you. You realise just who this man is. “Okay.”

He wraps a gentle but firm arm around your waist and helps you pull yourself back over the rail. When you finally set your heeled feet on the deck, your body feels like it’s going to collapse. The man leads you to a bench and wraps his jacket tight around you.

“I’m Gale by the way, Gale Cleven.”

You introduce yourself, still feeling rather defeated.

“Now tell me about what happened just now.” The words imply an interrogation, but looking into those baby blues you see… concern. What is with the people on this boat?

You’ll know them for only about a week and yet they’re the only ones in your life who seem to actually care for you.

“I know what you must be thinking.” You sigh, “Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?”

Gale leans his head forward to make eye contact, “Not at all. What I’m thinking is what could have happened to this girl to make her think she has no way out?”

You flash the giant ring on your finger, “I’m getting married next month.”

He jokes, “Wow! You would have gone straight to the bottom.” 

But you can’t laugh, you just stare at it. “All of Boston society will be there. 500 invitations.”

You finally look at his face, counting his freckles subconsciously, “Sometimes I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.”

He frowns and you’re hit with a sudden wave of shame. “Thank you for your help, Gale.” You take his jacket off hastily and drop it in his lap.

“Wait-” He tries to process the abrupt end to your conversation but you’re already halfway down the deck, surreptitiously wiping away tears.

The next morning, you beg your mother to let you have some space and fresh air. Really, you want to find the handsome blond from the night before. To apologise and to assure him that you will be just fine.

It’s not difficult to spot his incredibly handsome profile. He’s hunched over a sketchbook, head bobbing as he looks to his reference then back down. Trying to follow his eyeline, you see a sweet looking older man dancing with his little daughter. She stands on his feet as they sway to nothing in particular.

You approach carefully, worried you’d break the warm quiet, or disturb the family’s moment. You decide to just sit next to Gale. He tilts his head in acknowledgment but continues his work.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night,” you begin, “it was inappropriate for a woman of my station.”

He gives a little half-smile and looks up at you. His stare is like looking into the sun. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel. And I felt honoured you trusted me enough to share your pain.”

Your face warms, you’re not sure if it’s shame or those baby blues trained on yours. The girl and her dad are still dancing, but he’s picked her up. Her curls swish around as he twirls them and her giggles almost bring a tear to your eye. You can’t remember the last time your parents showed you any affection, let alone danced with you just to make you laugh. 

Gale clears his throat and holds his sketchbook out. His work is incredible. Not only is his technical work beautiful but he’s captured the loving glint in the father’s eyes and the little girl’s missing tooth. You can’t help your beaming smile.

“This is incredible work! You should be proud. Is this what you plan to do back in the States?” You brush a gentle finger over the drawing’s finer details.

He blushes and shakes his head, “I’m going back to my tiny hometown to see my family. Where I go from there, I don’t know.”

“You have a real talent here, Gale! You should explore this.” You hand the drawing back to him.

His plush lips part like he wants to respond, but you’re interrupted. The sweet little girl taps your shoulder, her tiny hand covered in freckles. She introduces herself as Niamh, and asks if you’re some kind of fairy. You frown, confused, but hear Gale chuckle behind you.

“She absolutely is, Miss Niamh.” When you turn your head to look at him, he winks. You look back at Niamh and smile.

“He’s right, I am a fairy! And I have a gift for you, little one.” You pull out one of the many pins in your hair, a bejewelled butterfly on the end. You hold it out to her; she seems hesitant to take it.

Niamh looks back at her dad who nods in her direction. She takes the pin and gives it a little kiss, “I promise, I’ll take care of it.” She runs back to her dad, giggling.

“I gotta go soon,” Gale’s voice draws you back to your previous conversation. “It’s almost lunchtime, but I wanted to ask.” He closes his sketchbook and faces you head on. “You ever been to a party?”

You had assumed when Gale asked you about a party there would be drinking and music, but nothing to this level.

The small parlour is packed to the brim with warm bodies and free-flowing drinks. Gale is up on a makeshift stage dancing with a cat in one arm and Niamh on the other. You remember his two brunet friends from yesterday and search for their faces, hopefully one of them will remember you.

One is preparing to arm wrestle a big bald man while the other claps him on the shoulder for support. A pregnant woman stands behind them, arms folded and a big grin on her face. You make your way through everyone, feeling very overdressed. By the time you reach them, the arm wrestling match is done and everyone cheers for “Curt”. By the big smile on his face, you assume Curt is one of Gale’s friends.

You can’t quite find a way to interject yourself into the celebrations so you find yourself leaning against the wall awkwardly. Gale finally notices you and tries to wave, only he has no hands free. So he quickly gestures to his friends.

“Hey!” The taller brunet shouts, holding his arms out for a hug. You shake your head, not quite there in your acquaintanceship with him. Instead the pregnant woman wraps her arms around him instead. “You’re the dame who Buck can’t stop talking about.”

“Buck?” You look over his shoulder at Gale whose attention is divided between you and Niamh. “Oh Gale!” Your face heats up, “I hope he’s been kind.”

Curt butts in, “Darling you’ve got nothing to worry about, the man is already picking out a ring for ya.”

The tall brunet holds his hand out to shake yours, introducing himself as John, “But my friends call me Bucky.” He also introduces the woman under his arm as Angel. She gives you her real name but says she prefers the nickname.

Curt gives you an official introduction, and Gale peels himself away from Niamh and the cat long enough to come join you all.

“I’m glad to see you here, sweetheart.” Gale smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulder. You lose yourself in his eyes again.

“Glad to be here.” Your voice is breathy, but for once you’re saying what you truly mean.

The night is long and restless, you drink and you dance and you laugh and you dream. This is the life you’d sorely missed, friends, fun, and blossoming love.

The night winds down, Curt has passed out on a bench near the makeshift stage. There’s only one fiddle player left, the rest of his musician family gone to bed. Niamh is asleep in her dad’s arms while her mother dances around them.

Bucky and Angel dance together, looking more in love than anyone you’ve ever seen. He whispers sweet nothings in a low tone just to see her blush. Gale clears his throat next to you and you snap your eyes towards him. He holds his large hand out, inviting you to dance. As you join him, slow dancing next to your new friends, you wonder. Maybe you can learn to love Gale like Angel loves her Bucky.

It’s late when you return to your room. A familiar face greets you. Cal sits on his reading chair with a whiskey in one hand and your massive blue diamond necklace in the other.

“Where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, only the necklace.

“Out.”

“And what, precisely, does that mean?”

“I… was with friends.” 

“Is that why you smell like a brewery?”

You roll your eyes, but choose just the wrong time to do as his eyes shift to you.

His voice is dark and angry, and your palms begin to sweat. “You are my fiance, and you are to be my wife. You will wear this gift at all times and you will not leave my side without my express permission. In fact, I’ve come to an agreement with your mother.” He stands, looming over you. “You will stay in this room and share this bed with me.”

Your eyes widen, “That would be inappropriate, we’re unmarried.”

“You are still mine.” He clasps the necklace around your throat once more.

#masters of the air x reader #gale cleven x reader #buck cleven x reader #mota x reader #masters of the air fic

[exhuastedpigeon]

Fuck it Friday 🏒🥅

Tagged by @jeeyuns @daffi-990 and @wikiangela

the sabres won last night (and my boys looked damn good doing it). it inspired me to actually do an outline for my NHL AU. It's still just vibes but at least now I know where the vibes should be taking me.

Here's a little bit from Buck and Eddie learning more about each other on one of the first roadies of the season. This section involved researching Swedish citizenship laws and Mexican citizenship laws. It's way more complicated than I make it seem, but it's a fic so I can do whatever I want.

“Well when you do meet up with her, I can watch Chris for you if you want,” Buck offers with a smile. “Or I can come as backup.” “I may take you up on watching Chris,” Eddie smiles at him, soft and just for Buck. “But I think showing up with my six foot two two-hundred and thirty pound defensive partner to talk about a custody agreement might make her feel like she’s being ambushed. I still want her in Christopher's life and I'd like it if she were still in mine. She was my friend before she was anything else and I still love her, even if that love has changed into something besides romantic in the last two years." “Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” Buck nods, his heart twisting a little at the thought that Eddie might still be in love with his ex. He doesn't let himself linger on that though. “Your abuela is in L.A., right? Is the rest of your family there too?” “My parents are still in El Paso. I-I don’t want them here. When Shannon got pregnant they kind of lost it on me, called me irresponsible, said I was throwing my future away. Then they were pissed that Shannon wouldn’t marry me. It wasn’t good,” Eddie’s voice is tight, like this still hurts to talk about. “My middle sister Sophia is in her second year at Arizona State - she’s on their hockey team and I’m pretty positive she’ll get drafted if the PWHA is still around in a couple years when she graduates.” “She’s good?” “She’s unbelievable,” Eddie looks so fucking proud. “She led the team in goals last year as a freshman.” “Damn,” Buck names another mental note, this one to look up Sophia Diaz’s stats and highlights. “What about your youngest sister.” “She’s graduating from high school this year. I’m five years older than her so I’m not as close with her as I am with Sophia, but Adriana is so smart,” Eddie still looks insanely proud. “She wants to move to Stockholm for university. My parents don’t really want her to, so I offered to help her pay if she needs it.” “Is it harder to get into schools over there if you’re American?” “Technically, we can all get Swedish citizenship because of our mom,” Eddie tells him. “I’m actually an American citizen, Swedish, and Mexican. I’ve got all three passports and everything.” “What the fuck,” Of everything Eddie’s hold him, that’s the most surprising. "You're an international man of mystery, Diaz." "How do you now Austin Powers but not the Fast and the Furious?"

No pressure tagging - @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @rosieposiepuddingnpie @devirnis @underwater-ninja-13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @911-on-abc @thewolvesof1998 @thekristen999 @rainbow-nerdss @princessfbi @acountrygirlsfun @butchdiaz @callmenewbie and anyone who wants to share!

#buddie #buddie wip #wip: going five hole #fuck it friday #my wip #in this fic we love and support shannon diaz #and also will be loving and supporting her and eddie rebuilding their friendship

[princess-leaorgana]

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, alcohol consumption, mild hints of abuse, and OH DEAR is that my smut I left out? Oh, that's a lot of smut. I'm so embarrassed.

Chapter One Two Three

While dinner was being prepared, Rolan helped Zelphie with her room. She had done a lot of shopping for furnishings. New curtains for the balcony window, new blankets and pillows for her bed. She had gone clothes shopping as well and she pushed him away from snooping through her new dresses, stockings and tunics. They would share dinner with each other and Lajy on the balcony. Zelphie made a fun decision to place down the old furnishings of her room on the balcony to create a nice sitting space while they ate. It was cozy, very intimate. Sitting down on plush pillows and a thick blanket on a balcony of a wizard’s tower, drinking wine, eating and watching the sunset next to Rolan seemed divine to Zelphie. As they ate, they did what felt right for a budding couple, asking each other questions. They now knew each other’s favorite flower, color, wine and sweet treat.

‘So…if you can remember, as you told me you were young when you were left on your own, is Zelphie your real name?’ He asked her and she swirled her wine glass a little.

‘No, the matron of the orphanage named me. I was named after her parrot,’ she said and Rolan shook his head.

‘That is not true,’ he sighed, almost annoyed at her story.

‘I swear it is! At least that’s what she told me. She told me she named me after the parrot because I never learned how to shut up and be peaceful,’ she said and Rolan snorted.

‘Alright, that I believe,’ he said and she nudged him.

‘How about you?’

‘I’ve always been Rolan,’ he answered her and cleared his throat. It was incredibly common in tiefling culture for tieflings to change their names. Many didn’t even have last names. Tieflings did not have a great societal sense of a family unit. Their children ran wild and some parents who did try to raise their children were ripped from their children, just like Zelphie and Rolan’s had been. The state of the orphans she had met at the Emerald Grove was normal, unfortunately. At least this was true for the tieflings of the Sword Coast.

‘What was your mother’s name?’ She asked and Rolan smiled.

‘Dayryn,’ he answered softly and leaned against the tower’s wall. ‘She was the most wonderful person in the world. Just imagine, if you will, the person who is the reason for Lia’s bravery and passion and Cal’s loyalty and kindness,’ he began and Zelphie just smiled. What a wonderful thing to say. ‘And, to her credit, most of my brilliance,’ he added with a smirk and Zelphie laughed, but shook her head.

‘She might have fueled the flames, but she did not spark them, Rolan,’ she said and he looked down at her. ‘Trust me, with the rows I’ve had with wizards and warlocks all my life, you have something more special than books can teach and devils can promise,’ she said, and she had been hiding a little secret from him. Rolan was a powerful mage, there was no mistaking that. When she first met him, he was incredibly boisterous about his talents, which was very funny to hear as he had gone on and on in front of Mystra’s previous chosen, Gale. But when she heard of Rolan’s power in the Shadowfell Lands and saw it for herself about a month ago, she knew Rolan was special. He was very hard working and well read, she wouldn’t take that from him. But he was born with a talent.

‘I’m sure there was a compliment in there,’ he said and she nodded.

‘Yes, I mean, I don’t know if you were born this way Rolan, but your magic is….different. I didn’t go to Blackstaff or perfect my craft as an apprentice. I don’t know what the spells I yield are called. Sorcerers just…do. Like blinking or breathing. Because of that our magic that a wizard may learn is always a little unique. Very strong but also unique. Does that make sense?’ She asked and Rolan simply nodded. ‘I didn’t notice it at first…but when you cast a magic missile, it has the potential to stun. That’s not something a wizard is taught. You can cast mage armor on a person wearing armor. That is not something that is taught. Gale made that remark to me a while back, about you. He noticed it right away. Were you…did you always have a connection to the Weave, when you were very young?’ She asked and Rolan frowned and nodded slowly. ‘Then…maybe…you are just a very very well read sorcerer.’ Rolan was frozen and a little tense. Zelphie had only meant for her words to be complimentary, but it seemed to not have that effect. ‘Rolan?’

‘I’m not a sorcerer,’ he said and seemed to relax a little and sipped his wine. ‘I worked very, very hard for what I have-‘

‘Of course! Oh! Rolan, I don’t mean to say all of that to insult your education. Oh, no, no I’m so sorry. Obviously everything you have accomplished in your life is incredible. I mean, wizards usually get so far up the chain because they are privileged. Gale grew up a spoiled only child in Waterdeep. Lorroakan had his family name to raise him to the top, you, you did all of this yourself.’ She rambled quickly and Rolan sighed. ‘And bully for me, I think sorcerers are impressive people.’ She said and tilted her head. Rolan’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

‘Well, of course…I just-‘ Zelphie giggled and shook her head. 

‘Hush you,’ she said and leaned up for a kiss. He was very happy to oblige her. Happy to kiss her and very happy to not be in trouble for insulting her. She was just as happy. She still couldn’t believe herself. Kissing him, enjoying his company as they lounged on her new beautiful balcony. She sighed happily against his lips and she felt his arm slowly coil around her waist, pulling her closer to him. ‘Stubborn wizard,’ she muttered against his lips and he growled a little laugh. Another almost fight, and she dissolved it with grace, as she always did. This wasn’t very normal for him but he was very happy about it. He was stubborn, he knew he was stubborn. He was proud of being stubborn. His stubbornness got him where he was right now. With a little help, of course. Help from the woman who was kissing him on a balcony as the sunset on the sea in front of them.

His arm pulled her tighter, the ease in which he was able to move her made her feel good. She liked that neediness and strength. He pulled her so close she felt it only natural to get as close to him as she could. With care and patience, she crawled into Rolan’s lap. She was timid in case he would object, but no protests came from him. Just a tighter grip on her waist. Her dress lifted to her thighs and Rolan touched her thigh and laughed. She barely pulled away from him, just enough to speak.

‘What’s so funny?’ She whispered and he nipped at her bottom lip.

‘Fucking stockings,’ he muttered a pinched the soft fabric that created a barrier between her thigh and his hand. Her heart melted, hearing his voice so low and soft. Almost demanding. She could have passed out.

‘They are a nuisance, aren’t they?’ She asked and lowered her face, her lips finding the delicate skin of his neck. He shivered and sighed at her touch. ‘Good thing they don’t go all the way up,’ she muttered. Rolan was frozen for a second, and then moved his hand up her thigh slowly, until his fingertips could feel her delicate skin. She shivered and lifted her head to look at him.

‘I would…like to be a gentleman,’ he whispered, his hand moving a little more and his thumb rubbing soft circles on her inner thigh. She gasped at his new touch, that look on his face, she was lust drunk, completely different from the drunk she was earlier.

‘I’ll give you permission if that will help,’ she whispered back and his hand inched closer.

‘Whatever my lady requests,’ he whispered back, daring her, daring her to ask him.

‘Touch me Rolan,’ she said and he leaned back down to kiss her. As he did, she felt his thumb gently stroke her bare slit and she moaned happily against him.

‘Oh, maybe you aren’t my lady. Stockings but…no underwear? Tut tut, my dear,’ he said playfully and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘I promise I’ll behave next time, Master Rolan,’ she muttered and his fingers parted her lips. She moaned once more and rolled her hips into his hand.

‘Oooh, now, don’t be so greedy, I’ll give you what you need,’ he muttered into her ear and she whined, only grinding her hips harder. ‘Oh, my little hero is so desperate, isn’t she?’ He chuckled. ‘Up with you, love,’ he said and his hand moved from her groin to her hip, patting her backside a little. With a little whine, Zelphie stood up and was followed quickly by Rolan. A little too naturally, Rolan took her hand and walked her back inside. ‘Now, you be good for me and sit on the bed,’ he told her and she eagerly obeyed. For some reason, she didn’t picture him to be so commanding in the bedroom, but his confidence scaled his whole personality. Very fortunate for her, she did like it. She’d never been led before, it felt very nice. She sat on the bed, her tail beating the mattress with excitement. Rolan watched it for a moment and walked over to her. ‘My happy little sorceress, are you happy?’ He asked, getting close enough that Zelphie spread her legs easily. He tipped her chin gently and she nodded.

‘Happy is a very poor word, but yes, I am happy,’ she said and he chuckled.

‘What’s a better word?’ He asked her and she looked up at the ceiling.

‘Hmmmm….delighted, excited, enraptured, curious, a little nervous,’ she said with a giggle and Rolan’s smile just kept growing. He was terribly handsome. ‘Incredibly aroused,’ she said, running her hand down his robes. They were made of a very heavy velvet. He was a showman. Down his chest and torso her hands went before they landed to his middle, where she felt his erection.

‘You feel what you do to me?’ He asked her and she nodded, rubbing the area and he sighed out. ‘Oh, very good,’ he told her and slowly guided her face to look to the side. She easily moved her head, feeling his eyes on her, baring into her. His fingers left her chin and his nails pulled the fabric of her collar and he sighed, not gaining the access he wanted. ‘This needs to go,’ he told her and she stopped rubbing him. She placed her hands in the delicate buttons on her shoulder, but he took over. She looked back up at him, watching him fuss easily over her collar.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ she said softly, she was so lightheaded from lust and love she barely registered that her mouth opened. His yellow eyes moved from her shoulder to her face and he stopped moving for a moment, then returned back to his work.

‘You’re drunk again,’ he said and she shook her head.

‘Drunk, maybe, but not like I was earlier. This has nothing to do with alcohol. You are the potion that has my brain in a chokehold,’ she told him and reached up to his face, cupping his cheek. He was just in control. He had lost it. He had gotten her collar loose and he looked back at her. ‘Everything you do just…sets my heart on fire, Rolan,’ she told him and he searched her face. ‘You are devastatingly beautiful.’

‘Do you really think that?’ He asked her softly and she nodded.

‘Yes, I think that because you are. Your strong jaw, those beautiful eyes, I love your nose,’ she said and his brows furrowed and she giggled. ‘I do, it’s so sharp and I love the little bump,’ she said and his nose wrinkled. She laughed again and shook her head. ‘Yes, that nose,’ she confirmed and he laughed.

‘I’m sorry, but getting accolades from you is…hard to believe,’ he told her and she tilted her head. She let go of his face and slipped the rest of her dress off, sitting almost completely naked in front of him. He swallowed hard when he looked at her properly. There she was. He would have loved to control himself and be a gentleman, but his eyes traveled down her neck to her collarbone, she had freckles on her shoulders. Her breasts were beautiful and he felt his hands reaching out to touch them. Her chest heaved with a heavy breath and he glanced back at her face to make sure this was alright. She was just looking back at him. He had been in control, but now he seemed timid.

‘I’m all yours, it’s alright,’ she told him softly and she saw him swallow hard. He took in a deep breath and breathed out.

‘Lie back on the mattress,’ he requested, his voice cracking a little. She smiled and scooted up on the bed and began to remove her long stockings. ‘Mmmmm, leave those on, please,’ he told her and she giggled. As she climbed up on the bed, her tail curled to an S-shape and Rolan quickly began to undress. She sat down and watched him closely. She chewed on her lip as his robes fell around him. She ogled him a little less subtly than he had just done to her. Her grip on her own lip hardened as she took in his body. He really was beautiful. He had such a strong, lean frame. The ridges on his chest were beautiful and symmetrical. He caught her and smiled, confident that look on her face wasn’t faked. ‘I told you to lie down,’ he told her and she giggled and obeyed, lying on her back. Quickly, Rolan climbed into the bed, crawling over her. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she sighed happily. Her tail curled around his leg and he chuckled. ‘Greedy, greedy little thing,’ he whispered and his lips moved to her jaw, trailing kissing down to her neck. He leaned up a little and moved her face to the side once more and let out a very satisfied breath.

‘What are you looking at?’ She asked and he leaned down to kiss her neck.

‘Your lovely neck,’ he whispered and his hand traveled down the side of her body, giving her skin bumps and a shiver. She gasped at the light touch of his nails on her skin. Damn anyone who assumed a wizard wasn’t good with their hands. With ease and allowed access from Zelphie, Rolan’s hand returned to her middle as his kisses met her breasts. ‘Mmmmm…so ready for me already, my dear, very good girl,’ he said, feeling her warmth and wetness. She gasped in delight, his fingers teasing her, his lips on her nipple.

‘Oh!’ She squealed and gasped, which only egged Rolan on.

‘Shhhh…they’ll hear you down in the city,’ he whispered playfully.

‘Let them,’ she moaned. Her hips twitched as his fingers found her sensitive little nub.

‘Oh, lucky me, you’ll have to indulge me. I’m a bit pent up…so I’ll need some time to play. I want you to unravel, I want you delirious, begging,’ he told her, sitting up. ‘And when you have completely lost your senses, I’ll take what I’ve worked for and fuck you through this bed,’ he said, kneeling in between her legs, his thumb still rubbing her clit in a steady motion. She leaned up on her elbows and he leaned down, kissing her thighs, biting their sensitive skin. She gasped and yelped a little at the feeling of his teeth breaking her skin. He made eye contact with her and she let out another loud moan. He removed his teeth from her skin and kissed her gently in the same spot. His kisses again traveled until she felt him in her middle. His tongue ran up to his thumb and she sighed.

‘Oh…oh Rolan…t-that-‘ she couldn’t finish. His thumb rubbed her clit and his tongue entered her, attempting to lick her clean. Her head hung back in ecstasy. He hummed happily against her and she continued to moan. He felt wonderful, loving, needy, demanding. Warmth ran through her body and she relaxed, lying back on the bed, her left hand finding the top of his head and grabbed at his hair. ‘That feels so good, you’re so good,’ she moaned and he grinned, but continued eating her out, not changing anything about his movements. If they were working there was no reason to change. He wanted to feel her melt on him. Her moans and cries and shakes were killing him. He was doing everything he could not to sit up and fuck her properly. But he knew, he knew he would spend himself quickly. It had been a long time for him. Their first time must be perfect. Or at least memorable. He felt powerful watching his lovely sorceress unwind. And gods she tasted delicious.

He got what he wanted, very quickly. Her ragged breaths slowly became a little louder and more deep and he felt her hips roll up. Her hands left his hair and she held his horns. 

‘That’s my girl, that’s my little love, cum for me,’ he said and her grip on his horns tightened and her thighs tightened around his head.

‘Oh! Oh fuck! Yes!’ She cried and Rolan felt her muscles contracting. He lapped up as much of her as he could handle and sat up. She let her grip on him go and he laughed proudly, wiping his face. He watched her writhe for a moment longer and she looked up at him. Her body was perfect for him. The spines down her collarbone to her breasts were delicate. He leaned over and kissed her mouth and she moaned, kissing him back.

‘Gorgeous,’ he whispered and without moving his face from hers, he lifted her hips back up and she gasped when she felt his erection right up against her. ‘Are you alright?’ He asked her and she nodded. ‘Speak, my love,’ he whispered and she swallowed hard. What had he done to her?

‘I’m alright, Rolan, I need you,’ she said and rubbed herself against him. ‘Please,’ she whispered and Rolan pushed inside of her slowly, making her whimper. He groaned loudly and stopped moving.

‘Gods you feel wonderful,’ he groaned and slowly began to thrust in and out of her. Each thrust was slow but still made Zelphie call out a little sound with each one. He felt wonderful. He leaned his forehead to hers, bending her a little, and her moans got louder. ‘Is it alright?’ He asked and she opened her red eyes to look into his yellow ones. ‘Am I alright?’ He asked her and she nodded, completely unable to speak. Just little cries and moans, so she leaned up to kiss him, her hands on his face. He had one hand holding himself up, on the bed beside her, the other hand had a very firm grip on her hip. She felt his nails clawing a little anytime he moved back in her. The sensation was nice, possession and neediness. She trusted Rolan not to really hurt her. It made her feel good to be needed so desperately by him. She felt beautiful, more than she felt if he were to simply call her that.

‘Oh gods,’ she cried when he made a simple change in pace. Her hands moved to his hair, tangling her fingers in his once neat locks. His thrusting became eager, and she gave back as she could, arching her back for him. ‘I love you,’ she muttered and his lips caught hers. She heard him whimper, feeling the vibrations of his lips against hers.

‘I-I can’t-‘ he stammered and she felt his whole body on her. His face was in her neck, shuddering and with two hard thrusts he shook and sighed out, trying to catch his breath. She still held him close. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he whispered and she caught his lips again. Her kiss was tender.

‘Don’t apologize, that was magnificent, you are wonderful,’ she whispered to him and he kissed her once more.

‘You are…you are perfection, the way you feel, those sounds you sing so sweetly, I couldn’t help it,’ he continued and she laughed.

‘There is no higher compliment,’ she told him, her fingers stroking his hair back, which had completely fallen from its neat little knot. He sighed and rolled off of her, she gave out a little wince when she felt him leave her completely. He didn’t look as happy as she felt. ‘Rolan….are you alright?’ She asked and rolled onto her side. She placed a hand on his chest and he sighed, taking her hand.

‘I thought I had more in me…but…well, when you said you loved me I just…’ he sighed and closed his eyes. She laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

‘Please, Rolan, I mean it, I feel wonderful. And you are all to blame, please tell me you feel the same,’ she said and he opened his eyes to look at her.

‘Zelphie, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that. I’m just afraid you think me….’ He didn’t finish and she smirked.

‘Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it,’ she said and he grunted, which made her laugh. ‘You make it up to me in the morning, hm?’ She asked him and littered the side of his face with kisses. ‘But until then, enjoy the afterglow, because I’m going to,’ she told him and he rolled over to face her.

‘I consider myself incredibly lucky,’ he told her. ‘Being here with you, you know…the party all those months ago, the light show? It was to impress you,’ he said and she laughed. He sighed heavily. ‘I mean it,’ he told her and she shook her head, still laughing.

‘I believe you, I’m laughing because I was enamored with you at that party. And neither of us were brave enough to admit it,’ she said and he finally smiled.

‘It was probably for the best, romance back then was probably not the best of plans,’ he said and placed his hand on her cheek.

‘I won’t regret anything, I’m very happy right now,’ she told him and she felt his tail curling around her leg. ‘Stay with me tonight,’ she whispered and he grinned.

‘Of course but uhm…if we could migrate…I uhm…I’d like to be in my own room, if that is alright. I would have brought us there in the first place had I assumed we would…’ he said and she smiled.

‘Whatever would make you comfortable. I’m very adaptable,’ she told him and he nodded.

‘Come then, let us not get too comfortable here,’ he said and grunted as he sat up. She sat up with him and when she climbed off the bed and walked to her wardrobe, finding a nightdress and a robe to wear for the quick journey across the hallway. Once she removed her stockings, she pulled her nightdress over her head. She felt the fabric fall from her head to around her body. It felt wonderful. Her skin was so sensitive. Before she could pull on her robe, Rolan walked up behind her. She hummed happily as she felt his hands on her hips. ‘Now you are devastating…’ he whispered and kissed her neck. She shivered at his touch and the feel of his lips and breath on her neck. She leaned back in him, his hands ran up her sides, grabbing at her breasts, just to feel them.

‘You better not start anything you cannot finish,’ she told him playfully. He chuckled against her skin, meaning only to play, to touch, he was too tempted by her. He nipped at her skin and little and she giggled. ‘You have a biting fixation, don’t you?’ She asked and he laughed. She could still feel the small sting of his little love bite on her thigh.

‘I suppose I do, or maybe it’s just that I’ve had a taste of my favorite treat,’ he purred into her neck and she continued to giggle. The rush of joy, lust and the feeling of his lips were driving her mad. His hands were terribly needy, but gentle. His thumbs stroked her nipples through her gown. She sighed softly. ‘Mmmmm, maybe I will be able to pay you back sooner than morning,’ he muttered and gave her neck one last little bite and walked away from her. She almost fell over. Instead, as he dressed himself, she pulled on her night robe and called for the little kitten.

‘Come now Lajy,’ she said and made a little sound from her lips to coax the kitten from the balcony. He came running and Zelphie shut the balcony door, a little embarrassed that it had been left open. ‘Lucky me, it seems I’m getting everything I want today,’ she hummed happily and Rolan laughed as he lazily redid the buttons of his robes. It wouldn’t be staying on much longer.

‘Tell me then that you wish for at least one more glass of wine, a hot bath and then a deep deep slumber?’ He asked her and she grinned.

‘You read my mind, I’m terribly lucky,’ she said and he held out his hand for her. She smiled and picked her little kitten up and took Rolan’s hand. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. ‘Even luckier now,’ she said and he gave her quite the proud smirk. He radiated joy and pride and that made her even happier. The couple left Zelphie’s room and made it to Rolan’s. She hadn’t been to the master bedroom before, why would she have? It was incredibly clear that Rolan had fully renovated this room. Not a glimmer of Lorroakan was left. The room was warm, a fireplace roaring a blue flame. It was bright but had no heat. The rest of the room was dark, but incredibly illuminated. Along with the blue flame, the ceiling had an illusion cast on it, a brightly lit night sky. Zelphie placed the kitten on the floor, but did not take her eyes off of the effect.

‘It’s not too jarring, is it?’ Rolan asked and she smiled at him and shook her head.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said softly and he smiled.

‘I hope you can sleep through it, I…I need it, to sleep,’ he said and Zelphie tilted her head.

‘Afraid of the dark?’ She asked and he nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said, very simply. ‘Well, uneasy to sleep in the dark, it was never dark where I lived,’ he said and Zelphie’s mouth opened a little, remembering exactly where Rolan was from. Elturel. Elturel, a capital city that had descended to Avernus, suspended over the River Styx, had been a daylight city. She knew very little about it, but the city was under the constant glow of a light source referred to as The Companion.

‘That must have been so strange…never seeing night,’ she said and he shrugged.

‘It was all we knew until The Descent,’ he told her and she nodded. ‘So, I sleep with a little light on,’ he said and she looked back up and smiled.

‘Was The Companion this bright, or brighter?’ She asked and he grinned, happy for her curiosity.

‘Bright as the sun, but none of the heat. It would be as bright as a spring day while it was snowing,’ he said and she laughed a little. That was joyful. She didn’t think she could deal with that much light, but it was better than the reverse. ‘But, after The Descent, we’ve had to make due with evolving our sleeping schedules. Once on the Sword Coast, after all tieflings were expelled from Elturel, I used to sleep during the day, although that proved to be very dangerous. Everyone else we traveled with seemed to be able to cope with the night sky, but…I never really could. So, this is my compromise. I hope it does not disturb you,’ he said and she looked back at him.

‘I don’t see how it could. It’s so beautiful, you amaze me with how talented you are,’ she said and his cheeks burnt up. ‘The other day you were in such awe of my concentration on a little mage hand, but you’ve had this just going on and on? Don’t you ever be impressed with me again,’ she said and he laughed.

‘Well, that is…very nice to hear,’ he said and got himself undressed.

Rolan ran the couple a bath, which Zelphie was very excited about. As lovely as their recent activity had been, she hated going to bed less than clean. The past tenday had proven to her that she still felt that way, even after her less luxurious adventures. Rolan had a large bedroom, it had an adjoining washroom, a wine rack, a desk and seating area, Zelphie could have lived in just this one room her whole life and have been happy. He also had a balcony that faced the west, looking to the mountains and sea. She looked down at fuzzy little Eliminster and wondered what he thought of the giant room. He was snoozing on a lounge chair. Zelphie poured two glasses of wine and met him in the washroom.

‘Now this is terribly luxurious, wine in a bath,’ she said, handing Rolan both glasses so that she could undress and set into the water. Boiling hot, exactly as she liked it. As she sat in the large tub, Rolan handed her her glass and he got in carefully, able to balance his own glass, sitting across from her.

‘It is the very first thing I did after calling Cal and Lia to the tower,’ he said, smiling. ‘That might have been the strangest day of my life, back at home, my family home, I was desperate to work under a man like Lorroakan. I would never have dreamed this is the situation I would find myself in. I had a lot of work to do, but that night, I needed to just…soak it all in, so to speak,’ he explained and she nodded.

‘For what it’s worth Rolan, I’m still coming to terms with the events that happened this year. When everything was over, I thought it was so strange that I would be going home, living a normal life, and going back to work. It’s what I wanted, but it felt almost wrong,’ she explained to him and took a sip of wine. He laughed lightly and was clearly in thought from what she said. 

‘Back to work? What on Toril did you used to do for work?’ He asked her and she frowned.

‘I worked with a jeweler in the upper city,’ she said and took another quick sip of wine. ‘I was…I helped set stones in gold and silver and bronze,’ she explained and Rolan frowned. Zelphie didn’t really want to discuss her past work. She was a setter for a jeweler in the upper city, and she did set precious gems, but that was not all she did for her employer’s clients. Rolan took a moment, but asked against his better judgment.

‘What has you so upset about that?’ He asked. She took a deep sigh into her wine.

‘I don’t think you want to know, Rolan. I don’t…I don’t have good stories about my past employment. Either I lie to you, or you will be upset and I don’t wish to lie to you or sour the mood,’ she told him and his frown only deepened.

‘Did your last employer treat you like my last employer?’ He asked her softly and she shrugged.

‘She never touched me…but…I was a bit of a…’ she huffed and looked at him. ‘Until the refugees from Elturel came to Baldur’s Gate, tieflings were very rare in the city and some patriars found me…exotic,’ she began and Rolan’s face turned to a scowl, full of disgust. She glanced at him and looked away. She didn’t like that look on him. She swore she felt the water get hotter. ‘I shouldn’t have told you,’ she said softly and Rolan looked up and away from her.

‘Where was this?’ He asked, a cracking in his voice.

‘Like I said, it was in the Upper City, so it’s probably rubble. I think this tower is the only thing standing,’ she explained quickly. ‘Rolan, please, I shouldn’t have said anything,’ she told him and leaned forward. She placed her goblet on the side of the bath and climbed into his lap. ‘Please, don’t be upset,’ she told him softly, but he was terribly tense. She wrapped one arm around his neck and placed her free hand on his face. ‘Please,’ she begged and he looked up at her.

‘Tell me who she is,’ he asked her as calmly as he could. Zelphie chewed on her bottom lip. She was very angry with herself for upsetting him. He didn’t need to know about her past. Not that. It didn’t matter, that was well over. No one could touch her again, she was safe. ‘I’ll drop it if you tell me,’ he told her and she frowned but sighed, relenting.

‘It was in The Wide, called Love’s Secret. It was owned by a woman named Mayleen Starheart. Although, I would place a bet that was not her real name,’ she said and Rolan sighed and nodded. He sipped his wine and placed his goblet down. He would keep his promise to her for now. His arms wrapped around her and she leaned down to kiss him. She felt him relax and she leaned back up. ‘You know, I never pictured your hair would be this long,’ she said and her finger twisted around a lock behind his neck. He smiled at her.

‘If I want to keep it long, I must keep it neat,’ he told her and she nodded.

‘Could I wash it for you?’ Rolan’s eyes widened at her question and he nodded. She climbed off of his lap and he reached behind him for his soap. She took it as he dunked his head back, soaking his hair. ‘Make yourself comfortable,’ she said, sitting up high and he turned himself around, laying back, his back against her chest.

‘Is that alright?’ He asked her and she hummed. He felt like a weighted blanket on her.

‘Wonderful,’ she told him and began to rub the soap into his scalp just at his hairline, along the crowns of his horns. ‘You Lia and Cal all have fully black horns,’ she mused and he hummed. ‘I’m terribly jealous.’

‘Your horns are beautiful,’ he told her quickly and she laughed. ‘I meant it, they are very large, but they are so…graceful. They only enhance your beauty, my darling,’ he told her and she smiled, continuing her work in his hair.

‘Thank you, Master Rolan,’ she said with a smirk. He laughed, she felt the vibrations of his body against her chest.

‘We are naked, newly coupled, your fingers are in my hair which all on its own is stirring something in me, and you keep calling me Master Rolan,’ he said happily. ‘You need to stop that,’ he told her and she smiled proudly.

‘I told you earlier, I’m all yours, I think that’s a very fitting title for me to call you,’ she said and Rolan quickly submerged into the water again. After a moment under the water, Zelphie was laughing loudly. Now he was being silly. He re-emerged and quickly ran his hands through his hair to get the water out, and he got right out of the bath. ‘Uh-oh,’ she said, still laughing a bit as Rolan turned around, grabbing a towel to dry himself off.

‘Uh-oh is correct, and you’ll be in much more trouble if you don’t get that heavenly body out of that bath and into my bed,’ he told her and Zelphie almost froze. She did as she was told and got out of the bath. She grabbed herself a towel and dried herself off, glad her hair hadn’t gotten wet. Rolan gave her about ten seconds and took her hand. ‘Come come,’ he said and she smiled up at him. She might have just created a monster. He led her to his large bed, a large white blanket with dark purple satin sheets underneath. It was incredibly plush. ‘Lie back,’ he told her gently and once her head reached the pillow, he climbed on top of her. ‘You look very, very good in my bed,’ he told her and that possessive tail of hers wrapped around his leg again. He leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Her hips rolled up into him, coaxing his erection and he sighed happily. He then laughed. He laughed hard and she looked at him with wide eyes.

‘What?’ She asked, a smile growing on her face. Oh, he was incredibly silly. She loved it, she loved seeing him so happy, and she loved even more to be the center of his joy. He shook his head and kissed the side of her mouth. 

‘I feel spoiled,’ he told her and lifted his head to look at her again. ‘You, you of all people in this world are in my bed. And you want me, I’m just having a hard time processing it all,’ he said and she grinned up at him.

‘I hate to boost your ego even further, but you need to know how much I am thinking the same. I really didn’t think you would ever want me, like this,’ she said and placed her hands on his face. ‘Can I show you how much I want you?’ She asked and let her tail loosen from his leg. He nodded slowly. ‘Lie on your back,’ she whispered and he did just that. Zelphie smiled and climbed over him, but stayed by his legs. She knelt between his legs and bent over, running her tongue against his erection and he sighed out with a shake in his voice.

‘Aahhh…’ he whimpered and Zelphie smiled, keeping close attention to the head of his cock, lapping at it like a cat to water. ‘Oh…you.I’m supposed to be..p-paying you back,’ he whimpered and she giggled.

‘You are,’ she whispered. He hissed and she felt him twitch. That was the truth. She wanted to pamper him. She had been earlier, washing his hair, but he needed attention elsewhere and she would give it to him. It turned her on, watching her partner be satisfied with just her mouth. She rocked her hips happily and once he was slick with her spit, she took as much as she could of him in her mouth. Rolan moaned and she felt his tail rise up between her legs, asking for them to part. She parted her knees and his tail rubbed up against her and she moaned against him.

‘Oh what a pretty thing you are…’ he muttered and she began to bob her head up and down. As she did, she naturally rubbed herself against his tail, which he kept pressing against her harder and harder. He was only encouraging her. She felt his tail move against her and she grinned.

‘Looking for something?’ She asked him playfully and went right back to her work. He made eye contact with her for a moment and she watched him. She had never seen him like that, completely enraptured, nervous, a little confused. He sighed out happily and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

‘I want to fuck you, so you’re going to need to cum for me,’ he told her softly and she wiggled her hips.

‘It makes you feel good when I cum, doesn’t it?’ She asked, using her hand to work his cock as she spoke to him. He nodded and swallowed hard. ‘You make me feel so good, Rolan,’ she said and put his cock back in her mouth. His sounds and whimpers as she sucked him, his cock growing harder in her mouth was sending her on edge. She couldn’t help it. She felt the warmth rise up inside of her and she arched her back, slowing down. Rolan opened his eyes to watch her. His tail rubbed her harder and a little faster to make up for her frozen form.

‘Yes, yes, oh you beautiful thing, yes, cum for me, cum like I asked, be a good girl,’ he whispered a spasm shot through her body as she writhed, riding her orgasm out on his tail. ‘That’s my girl, yes, enjoy yourself on me, use me,’ he coaxed her through her orgasm, leaving her legs shaking. She crawled up and kissed him hard, rolling her hips in his. He placed one hand on her backside and the other positioned himself so she could feel him at her entrance which was begging. ‘Do you want it?’ He asked her through kisses and she moaned. ‘Say it,’ he commanded her lightly and she nodded.

‘I want it, I want you,’ she muttered and he lifted his hips and she groaned as he entered her. He held her hips still so she would stay exactly where she was. In and out, so slow, so careful. With every movement of his hips she cried out. Her body ached. He watched her carefully and she sat upright. She then leaned back, her hands on his thighs behind her and bounced. He cursed under his breath and moved his right hand to her middle. His thumb rubbed her clit and she called out, feeling that rush of warmth again. She felt like she had no control over herself, pure instinct had taken over. She bounced and rocked her hips on him like a mad woman, crying out his name.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Rolan muttered. She moaned again, looking down at her.

‘Oh Rolan,’ she moaned and he leaned up on his elbow, still rubbing her clit.

‘Mmmm…take what you want, take what you want, I want to feel you cum with me inside you, be selfish,’ he whispered and that was it. She lost the ability to breath and her hips curled around, as her second orgasm rang through her. Rolan gasped and moaned and she felt him shiver under her, twitching and then his hips pressing into her more. That was magical.

‘I love you,’ she whispered and bent down to kiss him. A shiver ran up her spine and she giggled. Rolan pulled her down to lay on top of him, his arms wrapped around her.

‘I love you too,’ he whispered and kissed his lady. She giggled, a feel of pure joy and release washing over her, delusional joy. She felt happy, she felt silly, she felt stupid, she felt playful and warm. The couple stayed like that, not getting enough of the other, just kissing and grabbing in the afterglow. Their tails intertwined and fought over dominance. Zelphie kissed down his face, giggling happily and he laughed at her. ‘Oh don’t tell me you have energy left,’ he said and looked down at her with heavily lidded eyes. Her eyes were bright.

‘Is it annoying?’ She asked him, wiggling a little. He shook his head, still smiling and closed his eyes.

‘Not in the least, I just hope you know this old man is physically spent,’ he said and sighed out.

‘What old man?’ She asked and he just laughed. She crawled off of him happily and sat next to his head, and her fingers combed through his wet hair happily. He had a very low and quiet purr, but it was there and it made her happy. He scooted to his side and pulled on her arm.

‘Come down here and lay with me, I want to hold you,’ he begged and she did as he asked. Though first, Rolan kicked down the covers to situate themselves on the sheets. Once under them, Rolan pulled Zelphie in closed, their noses nuzzling and her horns clinked against his. ‘Comfortable?’ He asked her softly and she nodded, her tail and legs wrapping around his. If she could find a way to get closer to him she would. ‘Good,’ he said and leaned his face up to kiss her forehead. ‘I meant what I said, Zelphie, I do love you. That wasn’t wine or lust talking. Your courage, your kindness, your patience, your warmth, your beauty…I…I’d have to be a damned fool not to consider myself the luckiest person in Faerun by having you in my arms, in my bed. And I will take advantage of that, I will cherish you, I will make sure I am worthy of your love in return,’ he spoke and Zelphie’s mind buzzed. She didn’t know what to say. All of the accolades coming from him meant everything to her. So that’s what she would tell him.

‘That…that means quite a lot coming from you, Rolan. Thank you, and know that I will also cherish you, and boost that goddamned confidence of yours, because everything you say you see in me I see in you,’ she said and he looked down. ‘I see a trustworthy, devoted, brave, hard-working, intelligent and beautiful man when I look at you. I’d give anything to have you know that about yourself,’ she continued and he frowned a little. ‘You don’t need to fight for me. Just…promise me you’ll continue being this man that I love, hm?’ She asked and he smiled again and nodded.

‘I promise,’ he told her and she kissed him tenderly. ‘Goodnight, Zelphie,’ he whispered and closed his eyes.

‘Sweet dreams, Rolan.’

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #rolan fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

[wexhappyxfew]

when all else fails

(a/n): here it is! a Silver Bullets ensemble piece featuring all of the lovely ladies that man the B-17 Silver Bullets that is mentioned so very often. let's just say....adjusting to a new pilot after losing one that did so much in terms of care - is hard. but having each other, makes it a bit easier. (featuring also: frank, the orange cat that meatball chases when warranted).

"How many times has he mentioned that the God-forsaken cat loves him?" muttered Paulina as she came and settled herself into the chair besides Carrie, shaking her head and lacing her fingers together like an elaborate pie crust.

"Dougie'll probably keep saying it," Carrie offered and then nodded at Marianne, who was sat in her own chair, working her way through another beer, "Frank doing okay?" Marianne shrugged and glanced at the orange cat, curled up at her feet, licking at his paw, eyes half-opened as he lounged on the wooden ground of the flying club.

"Looks like he's as fine as he'll ever be," Marianne said, "Dougie snuck him a thing of cheese earlier, so….let's just say, he's content." Carrie snickered as Paulina glanced down at the little ball of orange.

"Remind me how you're going to get him home again? Strapping him up in Silver Bullets, his own mask to fit his whiskers, a parachute made out of napkins?" Paulina offered and Marianne chuckled.

"I'll just ask Benny, he got Meatball over here, I'll be damned if I can strangle Frank into a harness, but it'll happen," Marianne said, "plus, he's a big sky enthusiastic." Carrie raised a brow. Paulina blinked.

"Come again?" murmured Carrie.

"He climbs up the trees, ya know? Entertains the kids. Jumps outta them, too. Crazy son-of-a-gun. There's a reason he's got nine lives, well…probably five now." Marianne said with a sigh, like an exasperated mother, "I blame Meatball."

"Why are we blaming Meatball?" a new voice said, entering the picture, the bright-eyed silhouette of Margie Harlowe coming up to them, Kennedy Farley in tow - like sunshine and gray skies clashing together in the middle of summer, but somehow making it work.

"He chases Frank around," muttered Marianne, "therefore, Frank has it out for him. Don't think Benny would agree but." Kennedy glanced downwards.

"A real wild-eyed killer there, Mar." Kennedy murmured and Marianne grumbled.

"He's just a softie on the outside that's all," Marianne said and Carrie chuckled.

"I can promise you, if I wave a thing of cheese in front of him, he's done for, there's no fighting with Meatball," Carrie said, patting Marianne on the shoulder and she all but sighed.

"It's alright, Frank, I'd be the same way," Paulina called down to Frank - who sat wildly unbothered, "swear to ya, you could wake me from a dead-sleep."

"Any of you meet the new pilot?" Margie asked, sweeping her eyes through the current group of four staring her in the face, "Alright, what's with the blank looks?"

"Don't think we're the ones you should be asking," Carrie said quietly, "you think Francis is gonna lose it? We know what happened when Harding tried with the other pilot…..Francis couldn't stand her."

"That's because that Captain Atchinson was nothing but a stuck up twit with a stick up her ass," Kennedy offered, "told me three times about how to load my goddamn .50 cal - last time I ever went up with her telling me what to do. I know how to load a gun, sweetheart."

"Bunch of bullshit, too," Paulina said, "you know she told me I had to at least eat proper in front of the guys. Does she not realize most of these guys saw me on my death bed when we arrived in Greenland? Puking my guts up as I pathetically begged for Major Cleven to take me to the grave. That was the least of my worries-"

"Well, our new pilot is not Captain Atchinson - she's actually really sweet, level-headed, can hold her own." Margie said butting in, "You all oughta introduce yourselves, stop hiding."

"Gotta name?" Marianne asked, a bit more hopeful than the others.

"Annie Bradshaw." Margie said, a hint of a smile on her lips, "She was in Fort Des Moines, but she's been a pilot for a bit. I got Benny to spill about her to me a bit. Supposedly she was going to fly AT-6s before coming here, so I guess we can consider ourselves lucky." Someone coughed.

"We'd be lucky if Birdie was still here." Carrie murmured quietly and a collective silence came over the group.

"Alright, what's with the sour faces?" Bessie, beloved navigator of Silver Bullets, said coming with a fresh drink - beer in the bottle - and Vivian and Judy in tow, the three new sets of eyes wandering about the current display of grief that seemed to wash in like waves.

"Don't tell me," Vivian said, arm linked through Judy's, eyes narrowed, "Major Egan made another one of his bad jokes and Pauli ain't having it."

"It ain't that, Viv, but feels close enough to be just like it," Paulina mumbled from her seat and shrugged, before leaning her head on her hand, "meet the new pilot?" The group glanced towards the trio and found somewhat blank looks on all their faces as well.

"Saw her." Judy offered, a bit more enthusiastically than the others, "She's a pretty thing. Didn't say anything though. It was from afar; I was trying to keep Dougie company, poor guy got turned down. I offered him an emotionally-filled pat on the shoulder."

"You really are the sweetest out of us all," Margie said with a smile towards Judy - who grinned like she always did - one that still looked youthful and full of a life now past.

"Was he trying for Helen again?" Carrie asked, her voice a bit more stiff than it had been previously and Bessie shrugged.

"A pretty poor attempt, I'll give him that," Bessie offered, in that comforting voice of hers that never seemed to let anyone down even in the worst of times.

"That or he's going on about the damn cat." Paulina groaned, receiving a shove from Marianne, "Sorry, sorry-" she glanced down at Frank, "sorry Frank, we love ya, I promise."

"So," Bessie started, glancing around the group, "anyone else willing to make the first move or should I bite the bullet. Again, might I add."

"I'll come with you," Judy offered, "she seems real sweet, I tell ya." Bessie smiled and glanced towards the group. Silence.

"Listen, listen, I'll come," Kennedy offered, "nothing a little New England charm can't do."

"New England charm?" Paulina crooned.

"Very experimentalist of you." Carrie said with a smirk and Kennedy rolled her eyes.

"I don't see anyone else jumping to their feet," Kennedy said, placing her hands on her hips with a raised brow, "imagine that was you! Comin' in here and your first introduction is Major Egan - Jesus Christ he probably scared her off-"

"I don't have to imagine," Paulina said with a sour look on her face, "if Birdie were here, we wouldn't be having to start this all over again."

"Yeah, well, Birdie ain't here, Pauli." Kennedy said. It was tough love. A tough realization that was a hard pill to swallow and something no one wanted to have to face.

None of them had really been flying since - Francis had done a practice run with Benny, but had come puking out of the plane and that had been that. Sometimes on walks around base, there was a presence about Silver Bullets that was almost sickening. It was like trying to face a fear none of them wanted to actually have to face. Getting in Silver Bullets without Birdie there. Because how much could you trust the next person to look out for the group and do much, if not the same or more?

"Well, what a surprise," Francis Montez said, swaggering over, a tired look on her face, an even more exasperated smile growing on her lips, "go on, what's happened now. Who are we bettin' on now?"

"No one, Lieutenant, except maybe the new pilot," Judy offered with a shake of her head, "you meet her yet?" Francis' face fell flat and she glanced around the group and shrugged.

"Ran into her, was on the move, didn't have much to say yet," Francis said, her words awkward and spaced uncomfortably. A few of the women exchanged side-eye glances or random coughs or sniffs.

Everyone knew Francis was struggling the most with it all - losing Birdie like they did. Just like that. Having her stuff back at the base, having to send it home to her folks, having to write out the letters and mail it out. Having to even think or say anything regarding it all. No one wanted to express any emotion towards a new pilot, or try to replace Birdie in anyway - it's why this whole new pilot shindig hurt just a little more than they all thought. They knew Birdie would never be replaced, but sometimes it felt like it was replacing her. Francis had been the one to see it and live it. She felt it the most it seemed - and showed it.

"You doing okay, Lieutenant?" Marianne asked quietly, a few worried glances going towards Silver Bullets' copilot - the drawn in expression on her face that fought with whatever inner emotions she was feeling more and more, the dark circles under her eyes, her gaunt cheeks. Francis Montez seemed to take on the weight of the world and let it stay on her shoulders for as long as she could handle; she hadn't fallen down yet.

"Fine," Francis said and then settled onto the open chair beside Carrie, "so, who's gonna make the first move? Or well, let me rephrase, who should be the one to make the first move?"

"I vote Margie." Paulina said, with a raised hand as she sipped her beer, "Margie or Vivian, someone who walks around like it's always sunny outside or something, ya know?"

"Flattering, Pauli, truly," Margie said, and Vivian offered a graceful smile with a nod.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Pauli, you really do butter me up," Vivian said, "but I think this is a Margie Harlowe situation at its finest." Margie grinned and crossed her arms and glanced around.

"You guys shouldn't have."

"Take the compliment, Margie," murmured Carrie. Margie smirked.

"She here?" Margie asked out loud.

"Supposedly Brady invited her."

"She blonde?"

"Blonde, more dirty-blonde, but nice dirty-blonde, shorter-side."

"That her?"

Everyone followed Carrie's finger and line of sight and found the new pilot, Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, moving towards the bar, leaning up against it smoothly and ordering a drink and then looking around, her movements fluid, calculated and purposeful, her presence not entirely overwhelming and the look on her face a mix - calm, cool, collected about herself. Someone you probably didn't want to mess with unless you had it coming.

"Yep, that's her," Judy said, "Margie you should go for it." Margie turned to the group, took a gracious bow, cracked her knuckles like some professional sports star and then turned away.

"Watch and learn, ladies," Margie said and then plowed forward.

"There she goes," Kennedy said with a chuckle, "our Margie, whodda thought huh?"

"Whodda thought what?"

"Volunteering herself like that," Kennedy offered, "going into the line of fire. She's better than me."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Francis said, "Whatcha trying to say?" Kennedy glanced over her shoulder just as Margie stuck out her hand to shake and then glanced back at the group of women and Frank, who now was cuddled in Judy's arms.

"Harding's been trying to get a pilot in for days after Atchinson was booted. Supposedly, he didn't let anyone even meet us until he was sure, especially after what happened before." Kennedy said, "Egan let me in on it, Mr. Chatterbox. Anyway, it seems legit. The entire thing. And she made it through all their levels of inspection, interviews, questioning, all of it. She's good." The group seemed to gravitate to looking towards Francis, attempting to judge her facial expressions before coming to a consensus.

"Francis?" Bessie offered. Francis was quiet for a moment, then leaned forward and took the beer bottle in her hand.

"I won't say anything until she's up there flying Silver Bullets."

#HERE THEY ARE!!! #all the ladies of silver bullets in their best forms! #it's an interesting dynamic to write and i thoroughly enjoy i'll be honest - #dealing with a pilot that was adored and now lost #having a replacement #combating those feelings and emotions #yeah that's a trip and an even bigger trip to try and write !!!! #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #annie bradshaw #francis montez #bessie carlisle #carrie achterberg #vivian ratcliff #margie harlowe #paulina stagliano #kennedy farley #judy rybinski #marianne salinger #here they areeeee!!!! #ENJOY!!! :D #(also have a annie x brady piece and a judy piece coming in the near future hehe)

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 8/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

She’s in the kitchen rinsing out her coffee mug when his arm snakes around her waist. She startles a little, a shock of deja vu making her ears ring at how similar it feels to the man, and the green countertops. Cal presses the front of his body against her back and whispers in her ear. 

“Good morning, mija. How did you sleep?”

She feels herself blush a little, but she turns her head to the side and accepts his kiss. 

“Good. You?”

“So good,” he says softly, his lips held against her cheek. 

He moves away from her, filling his own mug and saying hello to the children. He takes his medication and she shakes her head to indicate that she’s already taken hers. 

“Shit, we only have one vitamin left,” he says, shaking the last one into his palm. “Can you grab some on your way home from work?”

“I have an appointment with Michelle after my shift today. I asked you to pick Peter up from daycare, remember?” she reminds him, and he nods. 

“Right, I almost forgot. We can get them tomorrow, no big deal.”

He hands the last vitamin to Peter, then ruffles Abby’s hair and steals two bites of her waffle. 

“We’re running late, Pete, gotta get a move on,” he tells the child, and soon everyone is out of the house en route to school or work. 

-

“Are there any changes since our last appointment? Anything that jumps out as worthy of discussion?”

Dana sucks in a breath and Michelle’s eyebrows lift slightly, interested. She waits patiently while Dana gathers her thoughts. 

“Cal and I—we were…intimate,” she gets out, avoiding eye contact. 

“And what was that experience like for you?” Michelle asks. 

“It was fine. It was good, actually. It was nice to be—close to him in that way. But—”

The silence stretches on, and Dana finally forces herself to look at Michelle, who has a sympathetic smile on her mouth. 

“Take as much time as you need,” she says reassuringly. 

“I had hoped that being intimate with Cal would make the dreams stop, or at least taper off in some way, but it was immediately clear that they didn’t,” Dana says in a measured, practical tone. “In fact, I had the most vivid dream I’ve had yet just after we had sex.”

Michelle straightens up in her seat, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“Really? In what sense?” she asks. 

“He spoke, and I could hear and understand him,” Dana says, staring into the distance as she recalls the dream. “Once before I was able to hear and understand something I said in a dream, but typically when he speaks there’s no sound. I heard his voice, as clear as if he were right beside me. It was actually a bit unsettling.”

“What did he say?” Michelle asks, readying her pen. 

“He…he told me he loved me. And he called me ‘Scully,’ which is my maiden name,” Dana supplies. 

“Hm,” Michelle says noncommittally. “And what do you make of that?”

“I have no idea,” Dana answers honestly. “No one has ever addressed me by my last name without any honorific. Perhaps he was a patient and said “Dr. Scully” and I just missed it. But even so, why would he say “Scully” and not “Rose”? On top of that, the idea that I’d engage in an intimate relationship with a patient is even more difficult to believe than being unfaithful to Cal.”

“This bothers you,” Michelle comments, and Dana nods tersely. 

“The inscrutable nature of it is disturbing. I have just enough information to be thoroughly confused, but not enough to actually search out any answers. At this point, I think I’d rather just know, even if it means confirming that I was unfaithful. I guess I just wish I could somehow put it to rest.”

Michelle sits back and considers her for a moment, then sets her notebook aside. 

“We could increase the dosage on your medication,” she suggests. “If you feel prepared for the possibility of remembering things that might be hard to live with.”

Dana looks at her sharply. 

“Do you think the medication is having any effect? I have yet to recall any details of my life before the accident. I was actually going to ask about discontinuing it.”

Michelle shrugs. 

“It’s hard to say, Dana. It’s still experimental at this point. But if your dreams are, as we suspect, actually memories, then it’s possible that the Numerol is what’s increasing the frequency and vividness of those dreams.”

Dana runs her thumbnail back and forth across her bottom lip, debating. What will it mean for her if she remembers more, and those memories are painful ones? But the idea of continuing like this, being haunted by her own mistakes, also feels unbearable. 

“Okay, we may as well try it,” she tells Michelle. 

“If you aren’t comfortable with the effects, we can always pull back,” Michelle assures her. “You should be able to swing by the in-house pharmacy and fill it before you go. You can start your new dose tonight, if you like.”

“I typically take it in the morning,” Dana objects, and again Michelle shrugs. 

“You can take one tonight and another in the morning. It shouldn’t hurt anything, but it’s your decision. You can wait until tomorrow if that feels more comfortable.”

That night, she stands before the mirror in the master bathroom, trailing her fingertips over the scar on her belly. The new Numerol prescription sits on the countertop, and she wonders what she might see if she takes it tonight. Will she learn the man’s name? Will she recall more clearly how they came to be? Her desire to know is in direct conflict with her desire to move on, to learn to love this life, to be happy. 

“You coming to bed, mija?” Cal calls from the other room, and she feels her body tense a little. 

“Be right there,” she answers. 

She puts on her pajamas. She brushes her teeth. She washes her face. She takes the Numerol. She goes to bed with her husband. 

She doesn’t dream. 

-

“Ms. Gibbs said we’re going to learn about the ocean today,” Abby says excitedly, her slightly sticky hand joined with Dana’s. 

“That sounds fun,” Dana comments. “My favorite sea creature is a dolphin. What’s yours?”

“I like sharks ‘cause they eat people,” Abby says, then cackles. 

They are quiet as they near the bus stop, and Dana breathes in the sweet, warm air full of the promise of summer. Abby kicks at the sidewalk, breaking off a clump of moss embedded in a crack, and Dana lets her mind wander as they wait. 

“Mommy, is my other mommy going to come back someday?” the child asks, and Dana frowns, then turns to look at her. 

“What?” she asks, thinking she misheard the question. 

“My other mommy, from before. Is she going to come back?” Abby asks with a pensive expression. 

“What do you mean, Sweetpea?”

“I like you best, I don’t want the other mommy to come back,” Abby insists with a pout. 

Dana’s throat feels tight, and adrenaline begins to course through her veins. 

“Do you mean me from before my accident?” she attempts to clarify. 

“No!” Abby shouts, frustrated. “I mean the other mommy from before. The mean mommy who is not you.”

Dana slowly crouches down in front of Abby. She feels sick and afraid. 

“When did you have a different mommy, Abby?” she asks sternly. 

Abby shrugs. 

“I dunno. Before. I don’t really remember, except that she was not nice to me.”

Dana hears the screech of brakes, and turns to see the bus approaching.

“Sweetpea,” she says, drawing Abby’s attention. “I want you to think really hard about the other mommy today, okay? And if you think of anything else, like what she looked like or anything about her, I want you to tell me when you get home from school, okay?”

“Kay, Mommy,” Abby says, unaffected by Dana’s demeanor. 

The child boards the bus and Dana waves goodbye, forcing a smile onto her mouth. As soon as it rounds the corner out of sight, she runs back to the house. 

Inside, she picks up the cordless phone and dials, pacing the kitchen as it rings. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiffany, this is Dana Rose.”

“Hey, Dana, what’s up?”

“I’m not going to be able to come in today. Something came up that I need to deal with. Can you please let Dr. Polinkus know?”

“Sure, I’ll let him know. Is everything okay?”

A pause. 

“Yes, I think so. Thank you.”

She hangs up and dials again. She sits down at one of the chairs along the island but immediately stands again, her body a jumble of nerves. 

“Scully residence.”

“Mom, it’s Dana. Are you at home today?”

“Hi, Dana, it’s nice to hear from you. Yes, I’m at home, why?”

“Can I come over? Would that be okay?”

“...Sure, Dana, you’re always welcome. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I think so. I’ll be there within the hour. Bye, Mom.”

During the forty minute drive to Bethesda, her mind races with all the possible explanations for what Abby said. A nanny? A mistress of Cal’s? A child’s imagination? Children are prone to all kinds of fantasy and half-truths, and she shouldn’t put as much stock into the comment as she is. But still, something in the corner of her mind is screaming at her that it’s not meaningless, and she feels more than ever as though she needs to understand what happened before her accident, to fill in the missing pieces. 

By the time she arrives, the initial panic has worn away into an unsettling sense of disorientation as acute as the day she left the hospital. The sense of security and stability she’s been carefully building suddenly feels shaky and unstable, and she longs for the feeling of happiness and normalcy that had so recently seemed within reach. 

She knocks, and Maggie opens the door and immediately reaches for her, seeing the defeated look on her face. 

“Dana, what happened?” she asks, ushering her daughter into the sitting room. 

Tears flood her throat, and suddenly she is a child again, weeping at her mother’s feet. 

“I feel like I don’t know what’s real, Mom,” she sobs, and Maggie rubs wide circles over her back. 

“I’m going to put some coffee on,” she says with an air of practicality. “Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”

A pot of coffee becomes lunch, and then tea, as Dana fills Maggie in on all that’s been happening, and just how lost she still feels. They are seated in two matching armchairs near the bay windows as Dana picks at a slice of lemon and repeats what Abby said at the bus stop. 

“Dana, children say all kinds of outlandish things,” Maggie says sympathetically. “You once swore up and down that you were a member of the Partridge Family and demanded that your father deliver you back to them.”

Dana smiles sheepishly and shakes her head. 

“I know I’m blowing it way out of proportion. There are just so many things that I still don’t know, so much I can’t remember. It’s hard to brush it off when I don’t have anything to counter it. I’m not sure if that even makes any sense,” she says as she sets her teacup on a small table perched between them. 

“What else is bothering you? Anything I can help with?” Maggie asks. 

“It’s honestly everything, Mom,” Dana says with a defeated sigh. “It’s like this giant black hole of information. I don’t have any context for anything, my life feels like an inside joke that I’m not privy to. And I have all these scars—it’s just…it’s a lot.”

“The scar on your stomach?” Maggie asks, and Dana nods. 

“I know it happened at work and involved a patient, but you can’t imagine how strange it is to have a massive injury like that and not remember any of it,” Dana says. 

“To be honest, Dana, I’m glad you don’t remember it,” Maggie says gently. “A man held you hostage for hours in the ER, along with several other people. The police tried to ambush him but he got spooked and he shot you. It was over an hour before you were able to get help. We thought you were going to die.”

Dana feels a flush of guilt. She’d never considered that some of her memories might be best left forgotten. 

“Are there other scars?” Maggie asks, moving on from that subject. 

“Lots of small ones. But there’s a little raised bump on my neck back here,” Dana says as she touches the scar she only discovered last week. “I can’t see it very well, but it looks like a surgical scar. It’s a clean cut.”

Maggie shakes her head with a small smile.

“You need to ask about these things, Dana,” she says as she reaches over and pats her daughter on the knee. “That’s your Manatua virus vaccine scar. We all have them.”

Maggie turns in her seat and moves her hair aside. Dana leans forward, examining the tiny pink line in Maggie’s skin at the base of her neck. She touches it, feeling a small lump just beneath the surface. 

“Manatua virus?” she repeats, and Maggie sighs. 

“Yes, it was awful. There was an outbreak in Texas and it spread across the US so quickly everyone was panicking. The mortality rate was so high, and those who survived were horribly disfigured. I’m telling you, Dana, you should be glad that you don’t remember some of these things.”

“When did this happen?” Dana asks, sitting back. 

“A couple years ago. The effort to produce a vaccine was very well funded, thankfully, and everyone was lined up around the block to get one within six months. The vaccine was awful, though. People were vomiting, passing out. It was so painful, they started using general anesthesia to administer it. But the virus was so aggressive, it had to be done.” 

“Abby and Peter got them too?” Dana asks, and Maggie nods. 

“I’m glad you don’t remember that, Dana,” she says gravely. “It’s traumatizing, as a mother, to have to put your child through something like that.”

Maggie stands and goes to the stereo, ejecting the disc changer and loading up a suite of new CD’s. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Maggie asks with her back to her daughter, but Dana can hear the judgment in her tone. She needs to go home to her family. 

“No, I need to head back soon so I’m there when Abby gets off the bus,” she says, and Maggie nods approvingly.

“Let me go wrap up some of that banana bread for you to take home,” she says with a pat to Dana’s shoulder before she disappears into the kitchen. 

Dana watches out the window as two birds fight over the feeder, flapping their wings in an attempt to knock each other off. Fighting for resources, for survival. The instinct to survive is so basic to all living things, she thinks. The CD player clicks and whirs as the next disc is moved into position. 

Darling you send me. I know you send me. Darling you send me, honest you do. 

It feels as though a vat of hot oil has been poured over her head. It sends a shock wave of heat through her, every hair on her body standing at attention and her heart lurching into a galloping rhythm. 

You thrill me. I know you, you, you thrill me. Darling you, you, you thrill me. Honest you do. 

She feels his arms around her waist, his lips pressed to hers. She feels the rumble of his voice and she hears him, actually hears him singing to her. 

At first I thought it was infatuation. But oooo it’s lasted so long. Now I find myself wanting to marry you, and take you home. 

Those mossy green eyes, that impish smile. The music, she hears the music as they dance and kiss and fumble towards the bedroom. 

“Dana?” Maggie says, and she looks over to see her mother watching her with a concerned expression. “Are you all right?”

“What is this song?” she asks, her throat tight. 

“I think it’s Sam Cooke. I’m not sure what the song is. Why?”

“Do I know this song?” Dana asks, her breath coming out in pants. 

“I don’t know, Dana. It’s a very old song, I’m sure you’ve heard it at some point or another. Is something the matter?”

“I don’t know,” Dana says uneasily as the song comes to an end. “I don’t know.”

-

She’s wiping down the kitchen counters when Cal comes downstairs. 

“Both asleep,” he says as he retrieves a beer from the fridge. “Did you pick up vitamins?”

“No, sorry. I guess I forgot,” she answers flatly, running the sponge over the same spot over and over. 

“No big, we can get ‘em tomorrow,” he answers, then takes a seat at one of the barstools. He watches her for a moment, sipping his beer. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, not meeting his eye. 

“You sure? You seem kind of…I don’t know, off,” he says carefully. 

She moves to the sink and rinses out the sponge, contemplating. Just ask, her mother had said about her missing memories. 

“Actually, I heard a song today that felt familiar. It threw me off a bit.” She turns around and leans against the counter, facing him. “Can I play it for you?”

“Of course,” he says, looking concerned. 

She retrieves the borrowed CD from her purse. She’d listened to it over and over on the drive back from Bethesda, her bones buzzing at the way it brought her dreams to life. She pops it into the CD player in the living room and hits play, watching Cal’s reaction. 

Darling you send me. I know you send me. Darling you send me, honest you do.  

Cal listens with a neutral expression. After a few minutes, the song ends and she ejects the CD, returning it to its case. 

“Do you know it?” she asks, feeling nervous. 

“I don’t think so,” he answers. “I may have heard it before, but no specific instances that I can recall. Why?”

“I don’t know,” she says, dropping her head. “Maybe it’s nothing, it just feels so familiar.”

“Did you have the same feeling when you heard Sweet Caroline?” he asks, and she lifts her head to find a moderately wounded expression on his face. 

“I’m not sure,” she admits guiltily. “But you had told me about the significance of that song before I listened to it, so that may have impacted my response.”

Cal nods and takes a long pull from his beer. 

She crosses the room and steps up behind him, and he startles a little as she tugs on the collar of his T-shirt to expose the back of his neck. There’s a small pink scar, just like hers, at the base of it.

“What are you doing?” Cal asks, confused, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. 

“I think I just had a weird day, memory wise,” she says, resting her cheek against his. “Can we go to bed?”

“Sure, mija. I’m just going to finish my beer, but I’ll see you up there in a few.”

“Okay,” she says with a small smile and a kiss. 

She lays awake for hours, watching the swell of headlights on the ceiling each time a car drives down the street. Finally, exhaustion overtakes her and she sleeps fitfully, waking each time Cal changes position or a dog barks next door. She waits for her dream to come to her, for some additional information or clarity, but it never does. She watches the yellow haze of sunrise fill up the room with bloodshot, weary eyes. She feels more lost than ever.  

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files

[rudikawhy]

It's been two months and five days since I've started Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Today, I finished the very last episode. (I know I'm making this more dramatic than it is, but idc)

So, it's been a lot. So many good, great things, but also a lot of weird, disturbing things. Characters I loved all the way through (Hunter, Piper, Davis, Sousa, every Koenig (I think)); Characters I almost loved all the way through, except for a few episodes where they made some choices I didn't agree with or so (Fitz, Simmons, Bobbi, Coulson, Daisy, May, Deke, Enoch); Characters about whom I wouldn't say I loved them but I still liked them very much (Mack, YoYo, Trip, Mace, Flint); Characters who weren't exactly the good guys but still were somewhat likable to some extent (Ward, Radcliffe, Cal, Gordon, Jiaying, Sunil Bakshi, Robbie, Kora), and of course Characters who were written to be hated (The Malicks, Garrett, Whitehall, Lucy Bauer, Ellen Nadeer, Ivanov, Kassius, the Hales, Izel, Sybil) and everyone who I don't know in which category to put, or what to name their category.

I am so glad, that the phase in season five where I couldn't stand Daisy, was over as soon as season six started. I was surprised by how MUCH I loved her in season seven.

Season six was definitely my least favorite (and of what I've read I'm not the only one with that opinion). But I can't say it enough, how much I loved the parts in space of Piper, Davis, Daisy, and Jemma (and later only Daisy and Jemma) searching for Fitz and Enoch. I can't think of one single moment right now from that space part, that I didn't like. But I really hated Izel and this whole shrike thing, and Sarge and his team, so I was really glad when season seven started.

Because season seven started off just absolutely great! I already said that I loved their clothes. Sending Jemma in as Peggy Carter in the 50s was perfection. Daisy saying she already has a sister to save, her name is Jemma Simmons. May falling through the ceiling, punching Sybil and saying "The Cavalry". Fitzsimmons naming their daughter after a star. Piper's wish from Jemma being getting Davis back. The team meeting up (at least) once a year to catch up and not losing each other. All of that is perfection.

There is so much more I want to write about, but first, I can't put everything into words (right now), and second, this post would be way too long.

I am so glad that I started Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I'm even more glad that I continued watching even though the first five episodes or so didn't convince me at all, and at first I only stayed because of the characters.

I am thankful for everyone involved, but especially those who decided that these wonderful actors would get the role they got, because honestly? I couldn't have asked for a cast that was more fitting.

I will start re-watch soon (at least in parts), because friends of mine started watching, but I have yet to convince them that it gets better than it currently is (they are in episode four).

#agents of shield #aos #phil coulson #leo fitz #jemma simmons #fitzsimmons #melinda may #bobbi morse #daisy johnson #lance hunter #alphonso mack mackenzie #elena yoyo rodriguez #grant ward #antoine triplett #agent piper #agent davis #daniel sousa #deke shaw #enoch #my thoughts #season six #season seven #season 6 #season 7 #aos spoilers

[fratboybeezer]

Flyers Primer - Text Version

Presentation version here

featuring many of my personal opinions on players & some phantoms i find notable

*edit: fuck carter hart and i was very harsh on sam for no reason also there’s a lot of typos sorry

Cam Atkinson

forward (rw), #89

drafted 157th overall to CBJ in 2008

amazing instagram comment-er

on the nhl player inclusion coalition

played for torts in cbus

seems just happy to be here

basically #1 gritty fan

Sean Couturier

forward (c), #14

coots, couter, no chest

drafted 8th overall to PHI in 2011

playing this season after being on ir for like a season and a half

should have an a or c

used to live with now gm danny b

last of my fav ginger trio (him, g, and jakey)

toothless

Marc Staal

defenseman, #18

drafted 12th overall to NYR in 2005

2nd of 4 staals

homophobic, boycotted pride night with his brother eric in florida last season

career overall +/- of +50, over 1100 games played

Scott Laughton

forward (c), #21

our one and only a

laughts, laughtsy, scotty tatum

drafted 20th overall to PHI in 2012

passionate LGBTQ+ ally

always the one to put up the pride flag in front of the farg

first guests of the season were a lesbian couple celebrating their 1 year wedding anniversary

best drip on the roster (decided by me after that horrid drip night they had)

kinda reminds me of a cat idk

drinks a black, hot coffee

let atkinson wear his a for atkinson’s first game back in cbus after being traded to philly (back when we had a c and 2 a’s)

had an a with team canada at world’s

has a cat named brucey

Travis Konecny

forward (rw), #11

tk, teeks, tiki bar

drafted 24th overall to PHI in 2015

literally one of the best (if not the best) player on our roster idc argue with the wall

called a “short king” (he is 5’10, there’s shorter guys on the roster)

certified DILF!!

my mom’s fav flyer (she can only name 3 total)

once lost his shoes on the plane and therefore postponed press

pest/rat/raccoon (affectionate)

lives in penalty box yet an absolute goal scorer

his best on ice comparison is a chihuahua

best flow on the roster idc

our media rep this year!!! Slay!!

best chirps on the roster

Joel Farabee

forward (lw), #86

beezer, young beezer, bee, young beezy

drafted 14th overall to PHI in 2018

my favorite player i could go on and on about him

had neck surgery after 21-22 season and came back and played all 82 games in 22-23 season

is already becoming a leader on the team

bought a house from coots early 22 and now it’s a hub for the young guys on the team

gives off frat boy vibes in the best way

is such a teammate guy

asg shootout hater

has (at least 1) tattoo

his game day coffee order is an iced coffee with almond milk, no sweetener, on off days gets a brown sugar shaken espresso, prefers iced over hot coffee, and never met a coffee he didn’t like

grew up liking the flyers & phillies and really wanted to be drafted to philly

“i thank my lucky stars” -bee when talking about getting drafted to philly

claimed in a tk mic’d up that he was dropping a mixtape and never dropped it :(

silliest guy on instagram

Carter Hart

goalie, #79

hartsy, cahtah haht

drafted 48th overall by PHI in 2016

our starter <3 love him

as i’m making this is injured but is practicing with the team so hopefully he’ll be back soon

deserves better than philly but you can pry him from my cold dead hands

@st-louis has a great primer about him

Samuel Ersson

goalie, #33

drafted 143rd overall to PHI in 2018

not the best but he’s trying (i think)

would benefit from some time down with the phantoms

tbh shouldn’t be our #2

Cal Petersen

goalie, #40

drafted 129th overall to BUF in 2013

looks like he would blow away in the wind ngl

me and my friend hate him i’m sorry (sorta)

has spent most of his career so far with the kings

Felix Sandstrom

#32

drafted 70th overall to PHI in 2015

he should be our #2 idc

or down with the phantoms to improve

i can’t think of him without thinking of those pics @mad-bee posted of him like

👁️👁️

Bobby Brink

forward (rw), #10

drafted 34th overall to PHI in 2019

a baby!! (is a 22 y/o man)

my friend knows him specifically as “our rookie”

a REAL short king (5’8)

university of denver

Cam York

defenseman, #8

yorkie, yam cork

drafted 14th overall to PHI in 2019

umich boy, would’ve graduated with team 101

also a usndtp boy

i’m too lazy to look for evidence but probably part of the hughes summer club

Tyson Foerster

forward (rw), #71

drafted 23 overall to PHI in 2020

even more of a baby than brink (he’s a 21 y/o man)

roomies with beezer, stayed in philly during the off-season

i don’t think he stops smiling

described by beezer as “like a little adhd kid”

seems to be besties with yorkie

Egor Zamula

defenseman, #5

undrafted

was super excited to play alongside pr*vorov when he got called up from the Phantoms

part of beezer’s summer group

Nicolas Deslauriers

forward (lw), #44

nic, des, delo

drafted 84th overall to LAK in 2009

french canadian

hit 600 games 10/10!!

usually one of the top guys on the team in hits, pim, fights

has a career overall of -91 but like isn’t a goal scorer so. averages about 6 points per game in overall career

great fighter very hot 10/10

Nick Seeler

defenseman, #24

seels, seal team

drafted 131st overall to MIN in 2011

underrated!!!!!!!!

another great fighter that’s very hot 10/10

there’s not much to him other than punches but that’s ok i love him

fought des when des was playing with the wild

Noah Cates

forward (lw), #27

catesy

drafted 137th overall to PHI in 2017

has a brother who was with the organization but now is with bridgeport in the ahl (got to play some nhl games together!!!!)

once said flyers locker room lacked the “swagger of the winning mentality” which is a fucking hilarious way to word it

was on 2022 us men’s olympic roster

Morgan Frost

forward (c), #48

frosty

drafted 27th overall to PHI in 2017

never captions his instagram posts

angered torts or something because he keeps getting benched with no chance to properly prove himself

flyers hater

Travis Sanheim

defenseman, #6

sanny, sandy, sandra

drafted 17th overall by PHI in 2014

besties + neighbors with tk (known together as travii or travis²)

whl boy

besties with tk’s oldest kid

Owen Tippett

forward (rw), #74

tippy, tipper

drafted 10th overall to FLA in 2017

got him when we traded our captain :,( miss you G

hair looks unnatural but like i’m 90% it is natural

Garnet Hathaway

forward (rw), #19

undrafted

signed as free agent in july

part of phd line (w/ des & poehling)

UHM HIS FIRST NAME IS FUCKING JOHN?!

i don’t like him please don’t ask why i don’t have an answer

Ryan Poehling

forward (c), #25

drafted 25th overall to MTL in 2017

another guy signed in july

saved him from the penguins 🫶🏻

phd line

honestly i don’t know much abt him

Louie Belpedio

defenseman, #37

drafted 80th overall to MIN in 2014

has like 3 nhl games under his belt (12? as i’m making this)

signed july 2022 but has chilling in lehigh valley

went to miami of ohio

has a totally of 3 points but like i said only 11 games he’s got a lot of space for more

Victor Mete

defenseman, #98

drafted 100th overall to MTL in 2016

signed as a free agent in july

more of an assists guy than a goals guy and honestly i’m content with that

career overall +/- of +19

about 250 games under his belt

Sean Walker

defenseman, #26

walks

undrafted

bgsu grad & 2 seasons as captain there

his trade helped us send pr*vorov on his way, hope the door hit him on the way out

not rly talked abt but i think he’s cool (i’m going to bgsu lol)

Long term IR Boys

Ryan Ellis

defenseman, #94

drafted 11th overall to NSH in 2009

i don’t think he’s played a single game with us

like was injured when he was drafted and has been on ir the whole time

we lost phil myers for him (and nolpat too ig)

back injury? i think?

i have no thoughts on him ngl

Rasmus Ristolainen

defenseman, #55

drafted 8th overall to BUF in 2013

horrid career overall +/- (-176)

traded robert hagg & 2 draft pics for him?

i like him tho ig

looks like a different person in like every photo i’ve ever seen of him

his injury is undisclosed

The Phantoms

Wade Allison

forward (rw), #19 (#17 with flyers)

wader, ally, ally cat

drafted 52nd overall to PHI in 2016

he’s my girlfriend i miss him

lived in beezer’s basement last season

part of the fratboys (w/ frosty & beezer)

wmu boy

spent all of last season with the flyers

Tanner Laczynski

forward (c), #9 (#58 with the flyers)

drafted 169th overall to PHI in 2016

OSU boy (ew)

has never spent a whole season up with the flyers :(

my mom once told me he looked like a loser before finding out he was an nhl player

buds with wader

Zayde Wisdom

forward (rw), #14

drafted 94th overall to PHI in 2020

used to live with foerster?

he would cook and tyson would clean

i need him to be called up so we have that duo back

scored 29 goals in his second ohl season

Emil Andrae

defenseman, #6 (#36 with flyers)

drafted 54th overall to PHI in 2020

played 4 games with us this season

not much of a goal scorer but can do it

kinda looks very stereotypical swede

Ronnie Attard

defenseman, #12

drafted 72nd overall to PHI in 2019

was tri-city storm captain for the 18-19 season

another wmu boy — played a season there with ally in 19-20

played 2 games with the flyers last season and 15 the year before

#flyers primer #philadelphia flyers #primer #cam atkinson #sean couturier #marc staal #scott laughton #travis konecny #joel farabee #carter hart #samuel ersson #sam ersson #cal petersen #felix sandstrom #bobby brink #cam york #tyson foerster #egor zamula #nicolas deslauriers #nic deslauriers #nick seeler #noah cates #morgan frost #travis sanheim #owen tippett #garnet hathaway #ryan poehling #louie belpedio #victor mete #sean walker

[pmhusky]

It surprised me.

EVERYTHING AFTER THIS IS SPOILERS FOR PAW PATROL: THE MIGHTY MOVIE.

@marshallpupfan So, I actually decided to go last minute (missing out on the AMC Theaters screening.. oh well I'll get the merch soon)

To begin the movie I *believe* this might have been what your friend was talking about as Marshall was supposed to be the main pup on call, being able to battle a fire ablaze in a junkyard, doing a donut and firing his water cannon to put out the fire before... managing to run out of water, Skye then swoops in and finishes Marshalls job in her jet. I paid really close attention to Marshall throughout the film, and either before or just after they find the crystals, they're climbing a staircase, and I noticed something: Marshall's paw slipped and he nearly falls down; its such a tiny detail I think one of the animators actually knew who Marshall was: and even though the camera was from behind, I thought it was extremely cute & relieving to at least see that. Now the only scene that Marshall & Chase directly interact (I did see them standing side by side a few times too) This scene is the only dialogue that the two have together, and its sad to see it like that. Marshall is then not of much importance until the PAW Patrol is cornered in an alley way without superpowers against Giant Humdinger, he along with the Junior Patrol is the one to take down Giant Humdinger, by bravely climbing his ladder and leaping into the Fmr. Mayor's coat pocket to take away his Crystal, Humdinger then grabs Marshall and attempts to crush him in his hands but with some quick action, Marshall attracts the Crystal: and using his powers burns Humdingers hands. Skipping to the finale, Marshall is one of every member of the PAW Patrol who helps take down the Mad Scientist (I honestly don't remember her name), and him alongside Rubble are able to actually use their vehicles: Marshall using his firetrucks... fire cannons (yikes don't use that to put out a fire).

That's everything major with Marshall done, now moving onto what I liked about the movie as a whole

• Even though Skye & Chases backstory has a lot of similarities I prefer Skyes due to presentation and the fact there are multiple flashbacks throughout the movie and it looming over the entire plot much more • Skye, when captured is out of action for much longer than Chase was, attempts to connect with the Mad Scientist, and has a reasonable explanation on why the PAW Patrol knows where she is. • Keeping Mature subjects in (I.E. Fires, jeez you can learn from this) Criticisms: • Rubble is still the clumsy, comedic relief rather than Marshall, like c'mon? • Even though I praised the movie for Skye's backstory being more intriguing than Chase's... its still the exact same besides some minor differences • Music: I get it, some people like random celeb songs in their movies, but I personally like original soundtracks (which it does have, and I thought sounded amazing G.G. Toprak Now, hope for the future

That Paw Slip

I really don't know if Cal, or an unknown Animator did that, but it shows that perhaps, someone knows Marshall's Character who was behind the curtains of the movie, and if that one slip can finally spread into the 3rd movie I might finally have hope that it won't ruin Marshall.... Am I getting hopeful for what could even possibly be an animation error? Maybe, but I finally have straws I can grasp at with the Movies.

Well MPF, if you've read this, this is my thoughts, if you have any questions about more stuff about the movie just lmk and I'll try to remember everything for you.

#paw patrol #paw patrol the mighty movie #review

[hydrate-or-diedrate]

DAY 4 OF READING HOMESTUCK WE STARTING ACT 3 BABEYYY

According to the thing I'm looking at this act is about 400 pages so we'll see if I finish it in one day or not

Oh hello! Jade is a new name :0 that's someone I haven't even heard of from general fandom nonsense! So this is the little Fiver, huh?

Forgetful and too many interests to keep track of? I vibe

She plays the flute I can't wai- oh dear god

Her garden is lovely, at least

Casual teleportation okay- ah my apologies, casual transportalization

:0 Bassist? Hewwo? I wanna see the silly little girl play a sweet bass riff hewwoooo

"Pet and best friend named BECQUEREL" what you're just not gonna specify what he is? Ominous

Ahhh so she's a furry? Good for her

Ah not a furry

I-irradiated?? Steak??

SWEET BASS MUSIC YEAHHHH

Oh holy shit this lunchtop is gonna give me a headache

Oh lordy more midnight crew? Violence? Heck yeah

BEATDOWN (STRIDER STYLE)?

YEAH KILL THAT PUPPET MURDER HIM FUCK YEAH

Oh uh oh Dave sweety you seem to be getting beaten by the puppet actually

Goodness Cal is truly horrific

I love how sweet Jade is 😭

I'm sorry Rose, are you leaving your mother to burn up there? Hi??

OH GOSH JOHN IS GETTING MERCED

Thank God for nannaquin, if she offered me a cookie I'd take it despite my hatred of clowns

You know what while the captchalogue stuff bores me after a while I can respect that the author put so much effort into designing it, this is a lot of detail

Punch card calculator? Oh I so need to abuse this immediately

Nevermind I actually don't want to deal with images right now lmaoo

Having fun with the chess board imagery, eh, Andrew?

Oh Jade's grandpa is the collector of all collectors I see

Worm

Fuck carcinoGeneticist all my homies hate carcinoGeneticist

THEY ARE SQUIRTLE GLASSES

These brothers are really on their mall ninja shit

One of my friends called Dave's older brother "fuckable" and I'm judging them hardcore rn

YEAH JOHN AND NANNA FUCK EM UP

I respect the Peregrine Mendicant

Tea set? Ah tea set

KITTY

Oh my God this kitten is so cute

Into the room? 👀👀👀

INTO THE DAD'S ROOM

Aw fine, into the foyer

Oh my gosh Jade's grandfather is so silly looking and oh my gosh he's a statue??

Oh he's DEAD

I love the kitten so much it's not even funny

Oo time to feed the beast!

THE SHAPE

At last we are in the father's room

Aw man it's boring business guy things

John's dad is a badass look at he go

Finally a modus that doesn't make me want to die

Oh no it's gotten worse

HE GOT A LITTLE SUIT WHAT A LITTLE BUSINESS GUY

I am living for John's mental breakdowns

THE SHAPE OF THE GUY! BEC! THE BEAST THE GUY THE DUDE!

Arf

Yall it is so hard for me to not binge this entire comic since I have free time, I didn't expect to enjoy it this much

Bec is a very good boy

Damn Rose is in hot water. Well, hot not-water. Fire she's on fire

DREAMBOT?

VODKA MUTINI

MOVE THE FUCK OVER SERENITY MUTIE IS NEW BEST CHARACTER

Mr Mayor 🥺

Fuck it were shotgunning all of act 3 in one night because I have no self control right now

THE WRINKLEFUCKER

AT LAST THE PUPPET IS DEAD

Bec in da lava

JOHN AWAKENS

These trolls are absolutely going to be plot relevant later too, damn. It's such a funky mix of "every single thing is important" and "this is for a visual gag"

And now the Aimless Renegade

Is this guy a cop? He seems like a pissy little cop so far

"YOU ARE THE LAW WHOOPS" this is a great comic

THE BUTTERFLY WAS INNOCENT

Baby Jaaaade 🥹🥹🥹

Hey Jade this temple looks really ominous

Is he gonna drink the piss

WIZARD CAAAAAAT

And that's the end of act 3 now we got Rose in here babeyyyyyy

I can see why this story used to be so popular and is still loved to this day this is so damn fun :)

#breadstuck #fuck me i wasnt expecting to enjoy this so much

[cosmicjoke]

How is tsuki part of the anon hate?? For all I know she just answers to asks and translates the aot manga panels since she's a Japanese speaking person. You two have different views but she has never mentioned your name ever.

Are you threatened by the points she makes so that's why you want Levi stans to block her because she actually writes good analysis you don't want anyone else to come across so you want them to block her? If not, then why would you want anyone to block her.

You're a grown woman for fuck sakes, act like it. This fandom drama is stupid and especially targeting Tsuki who only keeps to herself. Smh

The other people you mentioned I don't know so I can't speak on their behalf but Tsuki doesn't deserve this. Anyone can check her posts and see how respectful she is.

Also do you know you interact with a known Levi x Eren shipper named V_onth on Twitter who is the one who has been writing hate messages on ao3 to Eruri fandom. She was also writing anon hate on curious cat telling people to kill themselves while posing as an Eruri until she was recently caught out to be a liar who only wants Eruri to have a bad reputation because she's threatened by the ship popularity and that it might surpass ereri. She was even banned from other Eren x Levi shipping fandom spaces on discord when she was found out. She's unhinged and is mentally unstable. Taking things too far. She even has about fifteen alt accounts on Twitter where she dox eruris and other Levi x Eren shippers who disagree with her. She's now on Tumblr as 7m7n7. And yet every Levi stan interact with her. Whether ignorantly or not. Idk

You guys are gullible enough to believe eruris are the ones sending you those vile messages when it's vont who has simply migrated to Tumblr to play the Eruri weird shipper all over again. I don't know whether you're on Twitter or not but if you are or if you have a friend who is then they can easily verify.

The two eruris you posted that were harassing you did not write anything that shows they're capable of telling someone to slit their wrist like the one who has been sending anon hate for months now did. Do you really truly believe they are capable of the hell rain that that anon brought down?

I guess you'll keep being a gullible person played by that ereri until you find out the truth. Until then I guess she can keep playing you guys like a drum.

I never said tsuki was "part of" the hate, just that their followers are. Which, they are, unquestionably, and that they know, at least to some extent, about it. I never accused tsuki in my post of sending anon hate, just their followers, because, again, that's proven.

You really aren't too bright if you think I'm "afraid" of their posts and that's why I made the post I did. I made the post I did because the harassment has been non-stop, really, since the end of last year, and I'm sick of it. People can read tsuki's posts and agree with them all they like. Again, I think you should maybe learn to read more carefully, because I never said tsuki was sending anon hate, but they have been without doubt vague posting about me, which is clear from their posts and how they align with my own. This isn't paranoia on my part, it's evident using simple logic. If you think they haven't been referring to me, whether by name or not, then again, you need to work on those reading comprehension skills of yours. Not everything has to be explicitly stated in order for the meaning or intention to be clear.

I don't know about any of that mess you're talking about with some Levi/Eren shipper posing as an eruri shipper, so , whatever. Unlike you, I don't have time to scroll through every social media feed in existence and track and trace every move made by randos on the internet. If that person really is a Levi/Eren shipper, I haven't seen them "pose" as you say, as an eruri shipper, but if they are doing that, or trying to cause trouble in the eruri fandom, then that sucks and they should be called out too. But if you don't think there's plenty of actual toxicity in the eruri fandom space, then you're simply living in denial. I've been harassed nonstop almost exclusively by eruri's for the past, several months, and that's a fact, not people telling me to "kill myself", but people like yourself who can't just drop the issue, who constantly monitor what I write on my blog and, within minutes of me posting it, send me messages screaming at me about how I'm "biased" and have a "black and white" view of AoT and how I think Levi is "perfect". And it all, magically, started when I was a little short with an eruri shipper several months back who, despite me asking them to please stop asking me questions which tried to get me to admit that eruri was somehow "proven canon" by nothing but, at best, vague and indefinite evidence, kept sending me asks, one after another, until I blocked them, and then, in their rabid obsession, continued to make more accounts to continue to harass me with. I'm not saying all eruri shippers are this way, but they're definitely there in the fandom, dragging the whole thing down with them.

If you're so offended by me calling out the toxic behavior of some people from that corner of the fandom, I have to wonder why? Maybe you're one of them, huh? In fact, I feel pretty confident in saying that you are, since you know I'm a "grown woman", which, I only ever posted about my age and gender ONCE, in response to an ask I got several weeks ago, really a few months ago, and which only someone who follows me would have seen. So, clearly, you're following me, for some, not all nefarious reason, I'm sure. Funny how so many of this anon messages I get constantly bring up my age and gender, too. Almost like it's all the same group of people making the same, stupid complaints over and over. Too bad, because I gave ample warning that I was going to do it, and yet, they just couldn't help themselves. This is the price you pay. You get called out and now everyone knows who you are.

Whatever. Next message you send, gets an automatic block and report.

#anon hate #fandom discourse #discourse #anon asks

[notallthosewho-wanderarelost]

Ahsoka 1x01 1x02 Thoughts/Questions

Spoilers for Ahsoka of course, and spoilers for Star Wars Rebels.

WHAT IS SABINE’S CAT’S NAME???? This is unironically my number one question. What if she named it Ezra.

Where is Jacen? My broccoli boy 💚

Wtf is up with Morgan Elsbeth being a nightsister? She’s very clearly human and not the same species as Talzin, Ventress, and Merrin, etc. Is Dave bringing back the concept of a group of human Nightsisters from the EU? (In which case, I’d like to see Teneniel Djo please.) Morgan says she’s a “descendant of the witches of Dathomir,” does that mean she could be part Nightsister but mostly human? Worth noting she is clearly able to do at least a bit of Nightsister magick in the scene with the map- she summons green smoke while opening it. Why the inconsistency in species? It seems silly to suddenly have a human Nightsister character when it’s needlessly confusing.

Also, the instant she said she was a Nightsister and a survivor I was like “who does she think she is ripping off Merrin like this?!” I will not tolerate this dollar store knockoff wannabe.

Update: checked the wiki and apparently there were a few small human Nightsister clans (the Singing Mountain clan is apparently still canon!), but mostly it was the big Dathomirian Nightsister clan led by Mother Talzin. Morgan could be from one of the smaller human clans. I think she just feels annoying to me because it’s like someone saw how cool Merrin is, thought she’d be a good villain for this, and then took the character concept wholesale for a piece of Star Wars media that’s more mainstream, but didn’t put in the work so it falls flat. And then her being human just makes it weirder. I wonder who made the decision to use the Nightsisters for this storyline, because doesn’t… fit. Even Morgan’s name is odd. Just feels like no effort was put into the character.

How did Ahsoka find Huyang? I’m so curious when and how this happened. I’m really happy to see him in this though, I loved him in Clone Wars.

Ahsoka can do psychometry now! Can we please get some canon Ahsoka and Cal Kestis interactions? Rebellion era would probably be best but I’m not picky. Obviously Cal’s abilities in that area are a lot stronger, but it’s nice he’s not alone and it’d be great to see them interact. They’re almost the same age, but just far enough apart that their experiences since Order 66 have been radically different.

Mando/Din spending seasons raising a Jedi foundling and Ahsoka taking on a non-Force-sensitive Mandalorian as a padawan is so funny to me. The irony of the inverse.

It’s also the perfect continuation of the disaster lineage attitude imo. Obi-Wan “I’ll train the kid you all say is too old to train” Kenobi, then Anakin and Ahsoka’s… you know, Anakin and Ahsoka-ing, and now Ahsoka’s like “I’ll take a regular non-Force-Sensitive person as a padawan.”

Merrin and Sabine would get along, I think.

Sabine being like 30 and still acting exactly like a rebellious teenager feels like a cry for help to me. :( I’m glad Hera seems to have her back, and it’s good that she has a cat, but I’m worried about her. It makes sense, but gosh poor Sabine. I’m sensing depression. She’s had such a tough life and a tough time with the concept of family, it feels like losing Ezra was the last straw for her emotionally.

Actually, where is Sabine’s biological family? Are Ursa, Tristan, and Alrich okay? Or did they not survive the Mandalorian Purge? (God no I WILL cry. Also @ Dave where is Korkie, why is Bo-Katan calling herself the last Kryze.)

So wait, the rest of the crew has spent 15 years thinking Ezra’s dead?? He said to come find him! I always felt like he was pretty clear he wasn’t dying when he pulled his purrgil stunt. Did they all just turn pessimistic and lose hope? That’s so sad.

I actually really love Sabine kind of being the Republic’s version of Thrawn as an expert art analyst. Continues the Sabine/Thrawn contrast Rebels started where Thrawn analyzes art in a more academic fashion and treats the culture it came from as a curiosity- he’s very into cultural appropriation!!- while Sabine makes her own art and is more capable of stepping into other people’s shoes to appreciate their art.

Ahsoka refusing to train Sabine because she’s too busy being sad and lonely, and Sabine refusing to talk to Ahsoka or train (or give speeches) because she’s too busy being sad and lonely. This is so sad and I want to hug them both.

It works because we have a new actress playing Ahsoka, but I’m so curious what this would have been like animated. Ahsoka feels similar enough to herself but very different, because she’s in such a different place emotionally, and I’m curious how this would’ve felt in animation with Ashley doing the voice.

There were a few scenes where I felt like I was watching a live action Rebels episode and it was the best! The entire sequence with Sabine on the hover bike getting away from her own New Republic squad lol, Hera in the Phantom with Chopper chasing after the ship and planting the tracker. Chopper not being able to find the tracker until Hera told him where it was felt SPOT ON.

The T-6 actually looks pretty roomy and comfortable so far. Like, not the best living situation, but it looks way bigger than the Falcon! Heck, it looks bigger than Ezra’s tower that Sabine’s living in.

That said, Ahsoka having not had a real home since leaving the Jedi Temple is killing me. She really has some abandonment/attachment/commitment issues she needs to work on. Extremely understandable issues given what happened, but it’s like after the end of Rebels she just… quit. Maybe finding out Kanan was gone and then coming back to find Ezra gone was the last straw for her.

I also feel like her giving up on Sabine’s training was because of how her own training ended and Anakin’s fall shortly after. She doesn’t feel capable of dealing with the feelings stirred up by having a student. So she just doesn’t.

Sabine’s collecting little brothers. :) Tristan, Ezra, and Jacen.

I yelled at Senator Jai Kell!!! Good for him!!!

Had a watch party with my friends for this and we all screamed the instant Chopper showed up!! And here I was thinking maybe he was off babysitting Jacen.

What in the world is with the map showing another galaxy?? Yuuzhan Vong vibes. (The way they were almost canon because we were supposed to get a Clone Wars episode with them… :’( )

Why DO the Nightsisters have a map to another galaxy? Didn’t they mostly stay on Dathomir? I can buy them having outposts like the ruins where Ahsoka found the map in an era when they left the planet more, but a map to whole other galaxy seems a bit off. Space exploration on that scale doesn’t seem like something they would do. I wonder if maybe the map is a relic from someone else that they picked up. I like the Rakata theory I saw floated by someone. I could see the Nightsisters picking up a Rakatan map. Those guys left random stuff everywhere iirc.

Does the Eye of Sion have anything to do with Darth Sion? (Of KOTOR 2 fame)

WHERE IS MORAI??? This is a really big question for me!!

Also wondering where Ahsoka’s Gandalf the White outfit is? Guessing she won’t get it until the end of the show. She has to go through her journey first. I wonder if the if it’ll mirror the Topps cards Filoni did after Twilight of the Apprentice at all.

It’s really sad to me that this show is coming out during the strike, because I really need Filoni commentary on things. Actor commentary would be great as well. This is ridiculous, the studios need to pay the people who make things a fair wage.

Shoutout to Natasha Liu Bordizzo’s portrayal of Sabine so far. She feels JUST like Sabine and it’s great. We haven’t really seen enough of Hera yet for me to comment on Mary Elizabeth Winstead’s acting. (It was so weird seeing Hera be taller than Ahsoka though lol.) And Sabine had much more of an arc in these two episodes than Ahsoka did so I can’t really comment on Rosario’s Ahsoka either. Will say she’s been excellent so far, especially in her first appearance in the Mandalorian episode. Looking forward to seeing more!

#ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka series #ahsoka tano #sabine wren #hera syndulla #chopper #morgan elsbeth #huyang

[radiantlyrey]

TRON Fic: a sort-of sequel AU thing... (Part Two)

Couple days ago I posted the first part of this story [link], which is a quasi-AU where Flynn takes Alan and Lora to the Grid to meet Tron and see what he's been working on. Here are the next 1500ish words of that.

~~~

Tron isn’t sure how he expected Alan_1 to react to him, but perhaps it’s fitting that they’re both stunned into silence at the sight of each other. He stares at Alan_1 silently, his face betraying no shock, though he is a little unnerved by how closely they resemble each other. No wonder Flynn kept calling him by Alan_1’s name, early on; they could almost be copies of each other.

Now Flynn’s walking out to greet him and Clu, and Alan_1 and the other User, Lora, follow. (She resembles Yori, Tron realizes as he glances at her, so much so it’s disconcerting.) Flynn smiles at them and says, “Alan, Lora, I’d like you to meet Clu and Tron. They’re my partners in here; basically they keep things running smoothly when I’m busy back home.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Clu says in his warmest voice, extending his hand to both of them in turn. Lora shakes his hand immediately, but Alan_1 keeps glancing between Clu and Flynn, as if in disbelief.

“Flynn,” he says at last, “how did you—do this?”

Flynn at least is smiling, and he replies, “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, Alan.”

“Why do they… look like…”

“Excellent question!” Flynn says, though it wasn’t one. “Clu looks like me because I made him that way; I programmed him within the system to act in my stead. As for Tron… far as I can tell, he looks like you because you programmed him.”

Alan_1 blinks several times, his mouth opening and closing slowly. Tron watches him, then finally steps forward and says something. “Alan_1.” Their eyes meet, and Tron dares to hold his gaze. “It’s an honor to meet you. Truly.” He holds out his hand, knowing that the worst that can happen is Alan_1 ignoring the gesture.

But he reaches out and takes Tron’s hand, gripping it firmly, though Tron can feel him shaking a little. “It’s, uh. It’s nice to meet you, too.” They stand there for half a micro, staring at each other with a handshake between them.

Tron sees Lora sidle over to Flynn. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Flynn shakes his head. “Who, me? Nah.” Lora tilts her head skeptically (looking so much like Yori in that gesture that she must be—), and he says sheepishly, “Okay. Maybe a little.”

She elbows him, then walks over to stand beside Alan_1. “It’s nice to meet you, Tron,” she says. Alan_1 startles a little at her voice, and disentangles his hand from Tron’s. Tron manages to keep a neutral expression, and offers Lora his hand. She shakes it twice, with a smile, and he smiles back.

“It’s an honor to meet you as well,” he says, and then, before he can think better of it, he adds, “I—apologize if this is an impertinent question, but—are you Lora_B? I knew a program on another system, and she—resembled you, and—”

Lora’s smile fades, and she turns to look at Flynn, who sighs and says, “Oh, hell. I can’t believe I forgot about Yori. Sorry, Tron, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right, Flynn,” he replies. “I was only surprised—”

“Yori?” Alan_1 looks down at Lora. “Wasn’t that the utility you wrote at Encom for the laser?”

“Not at Encom,” Lora says. “I wrote Yori on my own time, at home. Which is why, when I got the job at Cal Tech, I—”

“You took her off the Encom system?!” Flynn exclaims. “But then—oh my god, that explains everything!”

“What do you mean?” she asks, frowning a little.

“It was right after you’d left Encom that I transferred Tron over here. I meant to bring Yori, too, but I couldn’t find her in your archive. I spent two hours looking, too. And when I talked to Tron in here, he just said—”

“That Yori had been called back to her sector,” Tron says slowly. “But does that mean she’s—she’s all right?”

“I saved all my personal data to floppy disks. They’re in my office at home.” Lora looks between Flynn and Tron, the smile gradually returning to her face. “I can dig through them when we get back, if you want. Bring Yori here…?”

Flynn whoops and claps his hands together. “Yes! Hell yes.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I knew this was a good idea!”

Tron finds himself smiling again, but Alan_1 looks bewildered. “I’m confused,” he says. “What just happened?”

“You’re not gonna be the only one with a doppelganger in here,” Lora replies, nudging him with one elbow. “Once we get back, we’ve gotta go through my Encom stuff at home, all right?”

“Okay, but—”

“Just roll with it, Bradley,” Flynn says cheerfully, clapping Alan_1 on the shoulder.

“Not that this isn’t fascinating…” Clu says, and they all turn. In all the conversation, even Tron has forgotten he’s still there. “I do have other business to attend to this cycle. Flynn, could I have a word…?” He stalks down the street a few paces, and Flynn, excusing himself, follows quickly.

Lora and Alan_1 exchange a look. “I know that voice,” Alan_1 remarks darkly.

“A little too well for me,” Lora agrees.

Now it’s Tron’s turn to be confused. “How would you know Clu’s voice?”

“He’s just a copy of Flynn, right?” Lora asks. Tron nods. “They sound just alike, too, and when I heard that tone from Flynn? It usually meant he was about to be Bad Boss Flynn.”

He blinks, still confused. “And that means?”

“It means he’s about to tell you in the nicest possible terms that you’re screwing something up,” Alan_1 says grimly. “He doesn’t do it all that often anymore, but four, five years ago?” He shakes his head.

“I heard more of that voice than I cared to, my last year at Encom.” Lora folds her arms. “But thank god Flynn’s at least getting over it. Between Jordan and Sam, he’s definitely mellowed out.”

“I see.” Tron isn’t sure that he does, but he understands the gist of what they’re saying. “Clu is… very goal-oriented, sometimes. And I think he’s troubled by the lengths of Flynn’s absences lately.”

“Hence the Bad Boss voice,” Lora observes. “ ‘I understand why you haven’t done the impossible yet, but you really need to step it up if we’re going to make our quarterly goals.’” She deepens her voice in a fair imitation of Flynn and Clu both, and Tron has to chuckle.

“That does sound familiar,” he admits. Lora laughs, and Alan_1, at last, is smiling a little.

Tron looks past them both, down the street to where Flynn and Clu are talking. They’re far enough away that their voices aren’t carrying back, but Tron can see by the set of Clu’s shoulders that he’s not feeling charitable towards his User. Flynn reaches up, trying to put a hand on Clu’s shoulder, but Clu turns away from him. Flynn holds up both hands and backs away half a step. He holds out one hand, and after half a micro, Clu finally responds, shaking Flynn’s offered hand. Then Clu turns around and heads down the street, and Flynn begins making his way back to them.

Alan_1 has turned to watch as well, and when Flynn’s within earshot, he says, “That looks like it went well.” There’s a sarcastic edge to his voice, and Flynn shakes his head.

“Yeah, it, uh, didn’t really, thanks for asking. Anyway.” He puts his arms around Alan_1 and Lora’s shoulders. “What say we get this show on the road, kids? We’ve got about eight hours to see the wonders of the Grid, so we better get started.”

“Yeah, this empty street hasn’t been much to look at,” Lora says, grinning.

“It looks like a piece of sci-fi concept art,” Alan_1 adds. “Not bad, but… lacking context.”

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Flynn quips. “You brought a lightrunner, right, Tron?”

“I did,” Tron replies, turning towards the street corner where he parked. “With the extra row of seats in the back, since you said you were bringing guests.”

“Excellent! Let’s hit the road, then!” He links his arms with Alan_1 and Lora, and nods to Tron. “Lead on, if you will, program.”

Tron nods back, and leads them down the street to where the lightrunner waits. Behind him, Lora says to Flynn, “By the way, I think we figured out who Clu is.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alan_1 says. “He’s you, when you’re being an asshole.”

“You mean I’m not charming one hundred percent of the time?” Flynn asks, laughing. “You wound me, Alan.”

Tron smiles to himself as he opens the lightrunner’s interior. He’s not sure even Clu could put a damper on these Users, Flynn included, and he’s glad Alan_1 seems to be getting used to things. With any luck, this will be a millicycle worth remembering.

#tronblr #tron #tron fic #clu 2 #kevin flynn #alan bradley #lora baines #yori #my fanfic #ENJOY!!!!!

[toorebelstrawberry]

Now the genshin is doing maintenance on their servers I can finally update. Yesterday I ate like like 500 cals and today it was probably more bc my mums friend bought me a doughnut and my mum made food. Im gonna start back again and try for at least 24 hrs. Anyway me and my girly have been playing genshin together and my other friend plays too but she is on a different server, so sad 🥲. My friends name name is Kayle, I think thats how you spell it, anyway, I didn't talk to her much before but for the last couple of week I was hanging around her a lot more and thats why I started playing. She is literally the best and nicest person I know, like do you ever meet someone who is just you in a different body??

#ana bllog #ed not ed sheeran #tw ana diary #4norexi4 #i want to ⭐️ve #ana rant #tw disordered eating #4norexla #disordered eating thoughts #4n0r3xia #personal rant #personal blog #personal #genshin impact

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 7/48

(On previous posts I listed the chapter count as 58. I was trippin, it’s 48)

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

Dana taps her pen rapidly against the desktop, re-reading the chart for the umpteenth time.

Male, age 32, presenting with acute abdominal pain. Blood and urine tests came back normal, as well as x-ray and ultrasound. She puts in an order for a CT scan and an endoscopy, making a note for herself to follow it with a barium swallow if those tests aren’t conclusive.

“Who died?”

Dana looks up to see Dr. Thomas entering their shared office and smiles wearily.

“I guess that isn’t a great joke for a hospital setting, is it?” the younger woman adds, taking a seat behind her desk and cracking open a can of soda.

Her copper-skinned face and wide, bright smile had been a welcome second impression after Dana’s initial entry into St. Agnes, and the two became fast friends. Thick-waisted and ample-breasted, Dr. Thomas insisted that Dana call her by her first name, Tiffany, and simply smiled sadly and told her it didn’t matter when Dana asked if they had met during her previous tenure there.

“Sorry if I’m being moody,” Dana says with a sigh, leaning back in her seat. “I didn’t sleep well last night and it’s my husband’s birthday today—I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

Tiffany arches a curious eyebrow as she logs into her computer.

“Does he have unrealistic birthday expectations or something?” she posits. “One of those people that expects to be treated like royalty?”

Dana shakes her head.

“It has nothing to do with him. I think I’m just putting a lot of pressure on myself.”

What she doesn’t tell Tiffany is that as she and Cal have become more physically intimate over the course of the last week—mostly just kissing, and one instance of wine inspired dry humping on the living room couch—her dreams have intensified to the point that they wake her several times at night.

Sometimes they, she and the man, are in the kitchen with the green countertops. She’s washing dishes and he wraps his arms around her waist, or they are dancing in the middle of the room, sometimes kissing as they move across the floor. She can see his face, his hooded green eyes and full mouth, his impish smile. He’s tall, close in height to Cal, and sometimes he is walking her slowly backwards, grabbing at her ass and pulling her close so she can feel him, stiff against her belly. There is always music, though she can’t quite hear it; she senses that it’s there. In some dreams he’s looking up at her from between her thighs, in others his cock is hovering inches from her face. But it’s the ones where she’s riding him, feeling him not just physically but emotionally, that affect her the most. Those are the dreams that pull her from a dead sleep flushed and humming, that send Cal down the hallway to check on her after another nightmare. They are the reason she can’t quite bring herself to return to the master bedroom, for fear that she will call out the other man’s name in her sleep. But then, at least, she’d know what his name is.

“Men are easy,” Tiffany says, giving her a meaningful look. “Give him a steak dinner and a hummer and you’re good to go til next year.”

Dana barks a surprised laugh, but her belly twists. She has the passing thought that maybe being fully intimate with Cal will relieve her of these sordid memories, these haunting dreams. But at the same time, they feel like all she has left of something that was clearly very important to her at one time.

“We’re getting dinner at Mercato,” she supplies. “Have you been there?”

“Yeah, Rick’s taken me there a few times. It’s nice,” Tiffany answers. “Do you have a sitter for the kids?”

“They’ll be at the neighbors’ while we’re out to dinner, but it’s a school night so we can’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds like fun,” Tiffany quips, then stands and drapes her stethoscope over her neck. “I have rounds. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

Tiffany gets as far as the threshold of the door, then stops and looks back at her with a serious expression. Dana lifts her eyebrows in question and waits.

“Don’t forget to cup the balls,” Tiffany says, holding her hand palm up with the fingers curled as though cradling a pair of testicles.

Dana’s groan at her tasteless joke is cut short by the clip of the door closing.

-

“You look great,” Cal says uncomfortably, and Dana smiles demurely.

“Thanks,” she replies, pulling in a breath and looking around the restaurant.

It’s small, only a dozen tables or so, and the ambiance is decidedly romantic: low lighting, flickering candles, smooth jazz music lilting from cleverly hidden speakers. She tugs on the neckline of her dress, which is a low scoop that reveals the tops of her pushed-up breasts. She’d felt good when she put it on, admiring her silhouette in the bathroom mirror, but now that Cal’s eyes keep falling down to her chest as they try, awkwardly, to make conversation, she feels exposed and vulnerable. They’ve only gotten as far as water glasses on the table beside their menus, and already she can’t wait for this meal to be over.

“How was work today?” he attempts, and she remembers Tiffany’s advice regarding his gift.

“It was okay,” she says blandly, and again they fall into tense silence. Cal’s shoulder jumps and his head quirks to the side, and she knows she’s making him uncomfortable with her own discomfort. “Um, I didn’t really know what to get you for your birthday—” she starts, but Cal stops her.

“You don’t need to get me anything, Dana,” he insists, and she nods once.

“I didn’t, actually,” she admits, and he smiles shyly. “But I had this idea that maybe we could sort of—recreate something. An event that was important but that I can’t remember. Kind of a do-over.”

His smile blooms into a delighted grin, and she feels a warm flush in her belly.

“Really? Like what?”

Dana shrugs. “I don’t know, you tell me. This is something I can’t help you with, unfortunately.”

Cal sits back in his seat, pondering with a playful glint in his eye. The waiter approaches their table and asks about a drink order, and Cal turns to Dana.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, and she flashes her eyes over to the waiter in embarrassment.

“Right now?” she asks in a low voice.

“I apologize,” Cal directs to the apron-clad man waiting beside the table expectantly. “There’s somewhere else we need to be.”

He tosses a twenty dollar bill on the table top and stands up, extending his hand to Dana. She takes it and follows him out of the restaurant, choosing to trust him enough not to ask where they’re going.

_

When Cal pulls the front door of O’Blarney’s open, smoke seeps out and curls into the evening air. She walks in and is greeted by all the trappings of a dive bar: pool tables, dart boards, worn down pinball machines, and the saturated stink of cigarettes and hops. The floor is covered in patchy green carpet and the man behind the bar looks like he’s ready to pose for a mugshot.

Cal directs her to a table and then goes to the bar to get them drinks, returning with a beer for him and a cocktail for her. She takes an experimental sip and smiles with pleasant surprise.

“Gin and tonic?” she asks, and he bobs his head.

“That’s what you used to drink when we met,” he says, scooting his chair closer to hers.

She looks around at the clientele. The bar is relatively busy for a Monday evening, and most of the patrons have the comfortable posture of regulars. A swarthy man in a camo jacket leers at her, and Cal slings his arm over the back of her chair posessively.

“So, what are we recreating?” she asks, taking another sip.

“This is where we met,” he tells her fondly, and her eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Here?”

Cal nods, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“Tell me,” she encourages him, touching his knee lightly for emphasis. He covers her hand with his and holds it there, and she feels a little flutter of excitement.

“I used to come here all the time,” he begins. “Me and my buddy Ryan would come almost every night after work to play pool or just talk. I started seeing you come in every once in a while with another regular, this woman Erin, do you remember her?”

“Erin?” Dana repeats. “I don’t think so.”

“Anyway, you were here with Erin one night and I decided to make my move.” Dana smiles at him and he shakes his head dismissively. “I totally struck out. I think I asked you if you were new to the area or some cliche bullshit, and you pretty much brushed me off. But I saw you again a couple weeks later so I tried just introducing myself, and you were polite but clearly not interested.”

“Ouch,” Dana says with a sympathetic pout.

“I know, it was rough. But there was just something about you. I don’t know, it just felt like I needed to know you, so I decided to go big—”

“Oh, no,” Dana groans, but she’s smiling around her anguished expression and Cal laughs.

“I know, I had no idea who I was dealing with. And Ryan was a horrible influence. He got me all hyped up on this “Say Anything” style gesture that would show you that I was worth giving a chance. And of course I got totally hammered first, for courage.”

“Oh, Cal,” Dana says, pressing one hand to her cheek. “You did something ridiculous, didn’t you?”

“I got up on that stage,” he says, pointing to a small elevated platform in the corner of the room, “even though it was not karaoke night, and I, uh—I sang you a song.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. Very off key. But the bartender was kind enough to play the song so I had some accompaniment.”

“What was the song?” she asks hesitantly.

Cal clears his throat, closes his eyes, and sings, “Hands, touching hands. Reaching out. Touching me, touching youuuuu.”

“You’re joking,” Dana says flatly, and he opens his eyes and looks at her.

“Sweet Caroline, bah bah bah. Good times never seemed so good,” he croons creakily.

A genuine grin stretches across her face, and Cal elbows her in encouragement.

“So good, so good, so good,” she completes softly.

“I’ve been inclined,” he says in a whisper as he leans in, “to believe they never would.”

She accepts his kiss, returning it with a few soft smooches befitting a public setting. He pulls away, eyeing her with nothing short of adoration, and she finds herself feeling quite happy.

“And I went for that?” she questions cheekily.

“Absolutely not,” he answers, and she laughs. “By the time I stumbled off the stage you were gone. But I guess it did make some kind of impression, because about a week later Ryan and I were sitting over there shooting the shit,” he says with a thumb hitched toward a table near the wall, “and the waitress brought a drink over courtesy of a mystery woman at the bar.”

Dana makes a face, impressed with her own forwardness.

“And the rest is history?” she asks, and Cal bobs his head side to side.

“Somewhat. We stayed up all night talking, and you actually overslept and missed an interview,” he explains.

“What for?” she asks.

“The FBI, of all things. You said you weren’t totally sold on it being the right path for you, and when you woke up and realized you’d missed it, you decided it was fate.”

“Fate?” she repeats incredulously. Cal shrugs.

“Your words, not mine.”

“Hm,” she says, pondering.

She does remember the call from the FBI and setting up an interview. Her father was incensed that she was even considering it.

“Tell me about when you met my dad,” she asks, her voice suddenly tight.

“Oof,” Cal says with a grimace, and Dana mirrors it. “It was a little bit rough. He asked me about my family and where I’m from, which didn’t set us off on a great foot.”

“You lost your parents young,” she says, and he realizes she doesn’t remember the details.

“I never even met my dad,” he tells her, and her hand slides sympathetically back over his knee. “My mom was a junkie, and she OD’d when I was thirteen. I was in and out of foster care until I turned eighteen and joined the army.”

“I’m sure Dad liked that, though?” she says hopefully.

“Yes, once I was able to get that far and tell him about some of my accomplishments, he came around a little. But then I got you pregnant, and we weren’t married, and that knocked me down quite a few pegs.”

“Would it be wrong to say that I’m glad I don’t remember having to tell him that?” she asks with a pained smile.

“I only wish I were so lucky,” he replies, and they sit there for a moment, sharing smiles and affectionate glances. Cal blinks and shakes his head a little as though suddenly dazed.

“What?”

“I just got the most intense sensation of deja vu,” he says. “It happens to me a lot, actually.”

“Perhaps we’re living in an alternate universe,” she suggests, and he eyes her skeptically before he checks his watch.

“It’s almost eight, we better go get those rugrats to bed,” he says, and they stand, settling the bill before they walk out of the bar arm in arm.

-

After washing her face and pulling on an oversized sleep shirt, Dana turns down the guest bed and slides under the covers.

She thinks about her date with Cal, about her appointment with Michelle tomorrow, about Abby attending summer camp in a couple weeks when school gets out. She thinks about how grounded she’s beginning to feel, though the edges may always be fuzzy, and contentment washes through her body as she relaxes into the bed.

From down the hall, she hears a persistent murmur, like someone is talking. There is no TV in the master bedroom, and it almost sounds like maybe Cal is on the phone. She rises from the bed and creeps quietly down the hall, straining her ears. As she nears the bedroom door she recognizes that the sound is music, and she knocks gently.

“Yeah,” Cal says quietly. “You can come in.”

She pushes the door open and spots him sitting in an armchair near the window. He’s still wearing his slacks and dress shirt, his loosened tie hanging limply around his neck. He’s slumped down in the chair, his long legs extended before him and his elbows propped on the armrests, fingers steepled under his chin. His eyes are slightly swollen, his mouth set. He looks miserable.

Sweet Caroline, good times never seemed so good. I’ve been inclined to believe they never would.

She follows the sound to a small boombox on the dresser, then looks back to Cal.

“Are you okay?” she asks gently, still standing in the doorway.

He nods, then sniffs, and his jaw jerks to the side.

Dana enters the room, pushing the door closed behind her, and approaches him. He watches her with an anguished expression as she kneels down on the floor beside the chair, resting one hand on his knee.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, surprised that he’s not feeling the same buoyant optimism after their date.

Cal shakes his head solemnly, then reaches out and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t want to put my shit on you, Dana. Don’t worry about it,” he says, then attempts a smile.

“You’re not putting anything on me,” she says. “Please, tell me what happened.”

His watery smile widens, and her heart aches.

“Nothing happened, mija. We had a great night. It was a great birthday. It’s just hard sometimes, you know?”

She nods. She does know.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and he closes his eyes and grimaces.

“Please stop saying that,” he whispers.

She has the impulse to apologize again, so she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. She thinks about the man from her dreams, how he feels so close in her mind and yet she can’t reach him. She thinks that maybe that’s how it is for Cal: she’s right here, but she’s also eight years away.

She shuffles forward on her knees, navigating around one of his legs until she’s positioned between them, her hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Cal opens his eyes and watches her, his jaw twitching. Dana swallows, tamping down the butterflies erupting in her belly as she slides her hands up to his hips. He tenses, but doesn’t move. His breathing is shallow, coming out in urgent little puffs. She hooks her fingers under the waist of his slacks and meets his eye.

“Let’s go to bed,” she says huskily, and he shifts a little in his seat.

“Are you sure?” he asks, but she can already see him responding in her periphery. She knows how much he wants her, and she wants to want him too. She wants to feel the way she feels in her dreams: seen, adored, worshiped.

She nods.

He rises slowly from the chair and she stands, wrapping her arms around his waist as he cradles her face in his hands. And she does feel adored by him, she has since the day she came home. She just wasn’t ready to accept it.

And when I hurt, hurting runs off my shoulders. How can I hurt when holding you?

He walks her backwards toward the bed, lays her down gently, touches her like she is the most precious thing on earth. He worships her, he loves her, he makes her come.

And all the while she is thinking. Thinking of him—he. His hands on her hips and his mouth on her ear, and the way his body fits into hers like a missing piece of a puzzle.

She sleeps in the master bedroom, Cal wrapped around her like a vine. Awash in dopamine and oxytocin, she prays that she won’t always long for her dreams.

-

She flexes her hips forward and back, her slick lips sliding over his shaft as he kisses her sweetly. She wants him, and she feels ready—so ready. She feels the press of his head against her opening and she arches her back, angling herself just right, and he begins to slide into her. There is a stretch, a sting, and she gasps a little even as she’s still taking him deeper, wanting more of him. They stay still for moments, panting against each other’s mouths, until he sits up and takes her face in his hands. His kisses grow urgent, needy, and she rises up halfway, falling back down with a little whimper. He moans, his hips jumping off the bed, trying to get more of her. She’s never felt so wanted in her entire life.

“Fuck, Scully. I love you,” he groans, and she feels herself rising, gathering, melting into him. Becoming one.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files