#but i’ll die on this fuckin hill i liked his content

[metamatronic]

really bummed over matpat leaving (even if I mostly watched gtlive nowadays) but hope his other projects go well and he can focus more on his family!!!

#i know people hate matpat on here #but i’ll die on this fuckin hill i liked his content #he was cringy from time to time but i thought he was funny and endearing #and gtlive was a huge part of my life #don’t think i would’ve love fnaf as much as i did without him tbh #meta talks

[yee-fxcking-haw]

ay yo I need some fuckin aizawa content STAT for some serotonin

BitCh me too. You're getting soft horni Shota because that's all my brain can do.

•Take It Easy•

Summary: Shota Aizawa eats pussy like a champ I will DIE on this damn hill.

Pairing: Shota Aizawa x FemReader

Warnings: Oral Sex (female receiving), Light spanking, Daddy Aizawa cuz I cannot fucking help myself, Unprotected Sex, Creampie babey

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As soon as he can get you there, Shota has you on your back. Hair still damp from your shower, skin damp from a fresh layer of sweat. You would be irritated with him for getting you this nasty so soon after getting clean, but how can you protest when he's making you feel so damn good?

Your back sticks to the sheets, his black waves clenched in your fists as you rock your hips against his skilled mouth

He's knuckle deep, tonguing at your swollen clit as you lay there and fall apart so sweetly for him.

"You gonna cum for me, kitten? You gonna let Daddy taste you?" He mumbles against you, breath heavy, eyes full of lust.

You nod and whine and roll your body, unable to articulate any kind of intelligent answer. Your core aches against his tongue, tightening more and more with every flick of the muscle.

A sharp smack lands on the outside of your thigh as his other arm bars over your hips.

"Use your words. You can do that for me, right?" He taunts, knowing damn well you're nearly incoherent.

"Daddy, please, want your cock." You sob as he sucks as your clit, curling his fingers as he pins you to the bed.

Reluctantly, he pulls away to kneel between your legs, replacing his mouth with his thumb, working at your soft spots as he smirks down at the mess you're making for him.

"So sloppy, Kitten. All this and I've barely even started." The low rumble of his voice makes you shiver, it makes your walls tremble and your head spin.

"You want my cock?" He asks, nodding down at his hard, pretty length.

"Please- fuck- please. I'll be good, I'll be so good." You don't even have to try to sound desperate, you just are.

"Oh you poor thing." He muses before removing his hands. You immediately jolt and open your mouth to protest.

He stops any argument by pressing his slick covered fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to gag you as he takes his cock in his other hand.

You whimper and lay back as he pushes you down, running his head up and down your dripping heat.

"Take it easy, baby, Daddy's got you."

Your eyes roll back as his hips start to move, sucking on his fingers while he works himself into you. The stretch is always exquisite, always so sweet. He takes his time, never really thrusting, just moving in and out at a pace that makes you drool.

He's all black velvet and vanilla syrup, sweet and devilish as he watches your lip quiver as tears fall. He revels in the feeling of your nails down his back, he etches your sweet faces into his memory.

"Good little girl, you take it so well, so fucking good." He praises, voice growing raspy, losing his composure just enough to let his hips fall against yours a bit harder.

Your insides go all gooey when you see the tender way he's looking down at you, you crumble completely when his hand finds its home around your throat. Your high is soft, silky and warm as he fucks your through it.

You twitch and cry like a good little girl, like his good little girl. Heat builds in his body as he feels you cream all over his fat cock, walls massaging him so perfectly. He meets his own end just after you, hands gorging themselves on your body wherever he can get a grip.

You feel his length pulse inside you, cherishing the warmth that fills you as his release paints your insides. Your precious little cries only make him finish harder, groaning into your skin as he spills and spills and spills.

You both cling to each other, bodies rolling and grinding as you feel out your blessed aftershocks.

He presses a long kiss into your damp forehead.

"Perfect, Kitten, so fucking perfect."

#shota aizawa #eraser daddy #aizawa smut #shouta aizawa #my hero academia #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #aizawa shouta

[specterchasing-a]

Hold On (Part One) || Eddie & Alfie

TIMING: One month ago.

LOCATION: Alfie’s apartment.

PARTIES: @yikesimonfire & @specterchasing​​

SUMMARY: Eddie wants Alfie to accompany him on a little adventure. A lot of things go unsaid, but that’s probably for the best.

CONTENT: Internalized homophobia

Eddie carefully straddled the knee-high barrier that divided the apartment balconies. With a quiet grunt, he raised his leg and landed safely on Alfie’s property. He never locked the sliding door and Eddie didn’t have the patience to wait for him in the hallway. In all likelihood, the door would be shut in his face if Alfie had the option to block him out. Eddie didn’t appreciate being rejected, so things were better this way.

“Alfie?” Eddie announced himself curiously as he opened the balcony door. “I need your help with something.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice from his living room broke Alfie’s concentration, pulling him away from the string of code he was helplessly scratching his head over. One of these days he’d learn to lock the balcony door — at least while he worked. “‘Course you do,” Alfie mumbled to himself as he ran a hand down the length of his face. 

“I’m in here,” he called out, pushing his chair away from the desk until he latched onto the doorknob. With a faint click, Alfie swung the office door open and rolled back to his desk. “This important?”

As soon as Eddie heard Alfie’s voice, he made a beeline for the office. He stood at the door, grinning from ear to ear, and offered a small wave. “All work and no play makes Alfie a dull boy. You’re aware of that, right?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe. He liked his neighbor, quite a bit actually, but he wished Alfie was a little more social. Getting him to commit to a conversation for more than a few sentences felt like pulling teeth. More often than not, Alfie regarded him with enthusiasm of someone having their teeth pulled, too. Eddie was used to it.

“It’s monumentally important, actually,” Eddie answered with a nod. “I have plans tonight, filming plans, and I want you to come with me.” He raised his brow provocatively. “I know you’re gonna say no or fabricate some brand-new illness that you don’t have, but c’mon, it could be really fun, don’t you think? We never hang out.”

Alfie’s gaze shifted from the computer screen to the doorway where Eddie stood. He wished he could wipe the smug smile from the other man’s face that came along with that ridiculous proverb. Another part of him wished Eddie’s smile wasn’t contagious. “I’ll have you know, I did not make up conjunctivitis,” retorted Alfie with the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wouldn’t comment on any of his other recent ‘diagnoses’. 

“What kind of filming plans, exactly?” he asked, his fingers locked behind his head as he swiveled to face Eddie, giving him his undivided attention. It was still a long shot that Alfie would bite, but he’d entertain the idea before crushing Eddie’s hopes and dreams. 

“You sure? Sounds pretty fake to me,” Eddie said with a smirk. He knew conjunctivitis was real, but that didn’t stop him from playing dumb in the hopes that it might elicit a reaction from Alfie. He liked getting under his skin almost as much as he liked making him laugh. He wished he had more chances to do both.

“I need to go to the woods again. You know the couple that went missing recently? I saw on the news that their bodies were found somewhere near Dark Score Lake, but here’s the kicker; all that was left of them were their bones. They went missing last fuckin’ week and that’s all that’s left. Vines had already taken over the remains.”

“I have a theory about what’s behind it, but I wanna know for certain. More importantly, I want evidence.” Eddie’s gaze remained on Alfie. Barely concealed hope shone in his eyes. “So, yeah, company would be appreciated.”

“So let me get this straight…” Alfie’s brow was raised skeptically as he carefully reiterated Eddie’s proposal. “You want to go to the woods where people died… all to prove your little theory on video, and you want me to do what exactly? Be your bodyguard?” A small laugh swelled within his chest. “You’re joking, right?”

Shaking his head, Alfie turned back to his desktop. “Some bodyguard I’d be — more of a meat shield than anything else.” He knew full well that Eddie wouldn’t be that easy to turn down. He’d most likely hang around, maybe even get on his hands and knees to beg Alfie to go with him. “‘Sides, I haven’t even checked the weather. You know how my joints get when it rains. I’d only slow you down and before you know it, a week’s gone by and they’re reporting our bones on the news.”

Eddie’s mood deflated somewhat when Alfie outright laughed at his proposal. He understood but, just once, he thought it might be nice to have someone accompany him without needing to be begged. “Not a bodyguard—a friend,” he corrected him with a more mild smile than before. “Friends, y’know, do things together sometimes. Sounds zany, I know, but I hear it helps make them into even better friends.”

“I already checked the weather,” Eddie said, not that it would’ve taken Alfie more than 10 seconds to do it himself. He loved his excuses, even the fragile ones. “There shouldn’t be any rain tonight, just some wind. I wouldn’t invite you if there was even a 10% chance it would storm.” Eddie raised his chin slightly, an expectant look on his face. “You should come with me, Alfie. You’re due for a little fun.”

Much to his chagrin, Alfie hadn’t been successful at turning Eddie down. It was nothing new; he was notorious for avoiding things by the skin of his teeth. But there was something in the tone of Eddie’s voice that made Alfie’s heart sink. His eyes flickered back to Eddie whose face was drained of enthusiasm. “A friend,” Alfie parroted. It really wasn’t fair that Eddie could worm his way into his heart like this, but he had a suspicion that this feeling was not exclusive to him. It was just... Eddie. 

“Say I do go with you,” he finally chirped. “Aside from what I presume will be a fuckton of fun and friendly bonding time… What’s in it for me?” It sounded selfish, Alfie knew that. Even still, it didn’t stop him from dragging out the inevitable. “I mean, y’know, you get your video out of it too, right? Doesn’t seem like a level playing field.”

Eddie nodded when Alfie repeated the dreaded “f” word. He knew his shut-in of a neighbor didn’t value things like genuine human connections, but Eddie felt determined to make himself an exception. “Proud of you for saying it out loud, I know ‘friend’ is like an obscenity to you,” Eddie teased with his hand over his heart. He didn’t understand Alfie; the guy could be surrounded by people who loved him if he would only put forth a little effort. Eddie would be among them, no question.

As Alfie spoke up again, Eddie’s brow raised in hopeful curiosity. The questions that followed immediately made it fall into a furrow. “That’s so fucked up,” he asserted. “I offer you pure platonic love and you’re telling me it’s not enough motivation for you, Alfie Ramirez?” He pushed off from the doorframe and firmly planted his hands on either hip. “You’re lucky that I don’t have more dignity, is all I’m saying. What do you want? Money? My HBOMax login info? Name it, you greedy fuck. Your wish is my command.”

Alfie’s face flushed when Eddie drew attention to his repetition of the word ‘friend’. In truth, Alfie hadn’t noticed he’d done it at all, though he could understand why it stood out. Things like that didn’t usually bear repeating. "Har har," he rolled his eyes. Alfie wasn't about to die on a hill proclaiming he had more friends than he knew what to do with. Eddie might have been his neighbor, but he was also the closest Alfie had to a friend in years. 

A terse laugh escaped his lips at the mention of "pure platonic love". With a broad grin, Alfie quickly intercepted. "No, Ed. You offered imminent death. But same difference, right?" The smile never wavered from his face as he listened to Eddie prattle off various options. The corner of his mouth twitched mischievously. "I already have your HBOMax login, by the way. You really need to change your passwords," he smirked.

Alfie wasn't usually someone who wanted for anything; he kept to himself and got what he needed. But there was one thing that would make it worthwhile. "Alright, fine. I'll go with you," he decided. "But after all's said and done, you owe me a box of Baby Ruths. I'm talkin' unopened retail box, nothin' but Baby Ruth goodness inside."

Imminent death. Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. “You are so dramatic,” he insisted. Most of his content-related adventures were potentially perilous but, lo and behold, Eddie still had a pulse. He couldn’t imagine what would make tonight any different. “You’re stealing from me?” he asked, feigning shock. “I’ll change them immediately, alfieisatool69 should do just fine—wait, shit, I shouldn’t have said that out loud.” Truthfully, Eddie couldn’t care less if Alfie used his login info, it felt like something friends would do. Granted, friends probably asked first, but that was neither here nor there.

“That’s it?” Eddie asked. “You could have asked for anything in the world and you went with candy bars.” It would’ve been physically impossible for him to be grinning any wider. “You’re a simple kind of guy, I respect that. Consider those candy bars signed, sealed, and delivered. Now, get your shit and let’s go solve a murder.”

“Technically,” Alfie stressed, unlocking his hands from behind his head to raise one of his fingers, “I’m stealing from WarnerMedia.” His brow raised at the new password Eddie threw out. After a brief lull, Alfie’s hands dropped to the arm rests of his chair, and gave a soft snort. “Alfieisatool69 — really? You’d use my name as a password? Gotta be honest with ya, Ed, that’s kinda gay.” Throughout their years as neighbors, Eddie’s feet remained firmly planted in his heterosexuality. It was rare that Alfie made friends at all, let alone with straight guys. This, he figured, was exactly the kind of ribbing to be expected in the friendship dynamic they shared — not that he had anything to compare it to. 

With a shrug, Alfie pushed himself from his seat. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good nougat.” No amount of candy bars would be able to prepare him for what was sure to come. But Alfie wasn’t in the position to demand egregious compensation when someone he considered a friend was essentially begging for his company. 

“What all do I need?” he finally asked as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket.

Eddie’s hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw when Alfie corrected him with a technicality. When his new password was deemed gay, he scoffed. “You caught me—I’m so gay for you, the guy I need to bribe to spend time with me.” Eddie’s lips pursed as he proffered an exaggerated shrug. “I think if I was gay, which I’m not, I’d probably be more interested in someone who, I dunno, liked spending time with me.” He sounded more terse than he intended to, as if what he said held more genuine feelings than it did. So he thought, anyway. “The syphilis is also kind of a turn-off,” he added to make-up for the weight of his previous comment.

“Whatever the Alfie-essentials are. We’re just going to the woods and I’ve already got all of the filming equipment packed and ready to go,” Eddie informed him with a bright grin. “You are so not gonna regret this.”

“You caught me—I’m so gay for you...” The declaration caught Alfie off guard. For a moment he could feel his heart racing in his chest. After all this time? But before he could say anything irrational, Eddie pulled him back down to Earth fast enough to give him whiplash. Same old Eddie; he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Alfie was silent for a moment as he shuffled into a pair of sneakers haphazardly strewn across the floor. “Oh, right — the syphilis,” he half-laughed. “Good news is, Doc says I’m cured! I would have mentioned it sooner if I’d known that was a deal-breaker for you.” With a low grunt, he wiggled his heel into its shoe and scooped his phone up from the desk.

“Just gotta grab my keys,” Alfie added with a nod towards the office door, hoping Eddie would lead the way out so he didn’t have to walk past him. He didn’t know what else to say. Eddie didn’t think he enjoyed their time together; that much was made clear by the resulting whiplash. Granted, Alfie hadn’t given him reason to believe otherwise, but that didn’t keep him from climbing the balcony rails to visit. 

You could start by apologizing, his inner voice rang. While Alfie knew he probably should, he was worried it wouldn’t seem genuine enough. “You’re wrong, by the way,” he offered instead. He refused to make eye-contact and instead stared at the floor, but it was a start. “I like spending time with you. I mean, y’know… when it doesn’t pull me away from work. But — I do.”

“Well, clearly, we have no choice but to run away together, if that’s the case,” Eddie teased. He hated the way he didn’t hate the sound of that. He liked Alfie a lot, too much for comfort sometimes. Eddie noticed little things about his neighbor that shouldn’t have stood out to him: the rasp in his voice when he first woke up, the flash of his teeth when he spoke, the subtle crinkle around his eyes when he smiled. Seeing all of that and having his heart push him to do things he didn’t want to was agonizing. He told himself that must be what caring about a friend felt like, and usually he could convince himself to believe that, but sometimes…. Sometimes, he knew better.

Eddie stepped aside to let Alfie pass. To his surprise, he had something to say before he did. He studied his friend’s face as he spoke; flash of teeth, he was fucked. For the first time since he arrived, Eddie’s face bore a serious expression. “You do?” he asked before he could catch himself. “I mean, yeah, I was only teasing.… I know you do, Alfie.” He offered him a small smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

Alfie managed to skirt past Eddie with minimal effort; head lowered and shoulders down. Something in the way the other man spoke made it sound like a suggestion rather than a jest. He couldn’t afford to think like that. Besides, no matter how much truth it held, Alfie was better off alone. He’d die sooner than later and he wasn’t going to put his friend — or anyone for that matter — in that situation. 

“That’s what this is all about, right?” Alfie teased back, deciding that was what was expected of him. “I thought that’s what ‘let’s go solve a murder’ was code for.” 

In no time at all, he led the way down the short hall, only stopping at the front door long enough to snatch the keys off the hand-me-down entry-way table. “Cool,” blurted Alfie as he nodded along. “I didn’t want you thinking I don’t want you around, y’know?” His eyes shot up to meet Eddie’s for a brief moment and flashed an apologetic smile as he held the door open for him.

#c: alfie #wickedswriting #writing #hold on #// this is the first installment to something that is going to end up being longer than my life #but yolo

[hard-boiled-criminal]

Planetary Magick: 2

(Twisted wonderland x reader)

Masterlist

_______________________

Unedited

“Yeah…charming.” Apparently, by ‘charm,’ the headmaster meant ‘dilapidated and might have asbestos.’

An old Iron fence surrounded the perimeter, the bars mangled and twisted, as if something rammed into it over and over at each possible section of fence. You could only hope that whatever did that was no longer here. Unsurprisingly, the fencing was rusted in many places and had dead vines draped around them, no doubt having tried to survive on the fence but to no avail. What stood out as odd to you though, was the gate: it had an intricate design reminiscent of the black skeletal structure of a stained-glass window. Though it was odd to see these graceful curves and patterns on the gate compared to the arrow-headed fencing, it was something else that put you off. The gate itself was in pristine condition—no rust or dents whatsoever. You noticed an old, rusted padlock on the ground nearby, which was most likely used to seat the gate once upon a time, but that only lead to more confusion about why only the gate was so well taken care off.

The grounds themselves were mostly barren, save for a few vertical hedges and some dead trees. The dorm building itself sat atop the small hill and was in pretty bad shape. All the windows had been sloppily boarded up and patches of shingles were missing from all over the roof.

“Right, right,” Crowley brushed off your comment and lead you up the stone stairs towards the dorm. “Please come inside.”

             ‘Maybe it’s not that bad on the inside?’

Scratch that, you felt like the guy on the receiving end of “Sike! That’s the wrong number!” You didn’t think it could get even worse, but the interior proved you wrong. It was a complete mess inside; furniture stained and overturned, firewood and books scattered everywhere, cobwebs and spiderwebs in every nook and cranny, paintings and pictures either crooked on the wall or on the ground. The wallpaper was peeling at the seams with patches missing all over, and one of the wall sconces was completely broken, both the lightbulb and glass cover missing. And while the floorboards looked okay, there was no doubt in your mind that some of them were definitely rotted and would collapse under your weight in a heartbeat.

You turn and blankly stare at the headmaster. Did he really believe these were suitable living conditions? You were almost positive there was mold in this run-down dorm, and who knows which ones pose a threat to you since you’re an alien? “Does OSHA not exist here or something?”

“I’m sorry, but I do not believe I have heard of this ‘oh-shuh,’” Crowley replied, sounding honest.

“The Occupational Safety and Health Administration?” You got a blank look from Crowley. You sighed, “figures…” ‘Note to self: learn how to establish a government-funded fantasy OSHA so you can pile Crowley with violation fines. Or at least threaten him with them so he’ll fix up the damn place.’

“Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain,” he rushed to get his sentences out. Maybe he got nervous when he heard you say ‘safety and health?’ “I’m going back to do more research. Make yourself at home. Don’t go wandering around the school! Goodbye!” With that, Crowley rushed out the door in a hurry.

‘Well fuck. First order of business: cleaning up lest I die of never-ending sneezing fits.’ You were only able to get all the furniture upright before it started to rain, making you lose all focus and run to peak out a window, trying to get a good angle to see the rain, and hopefully lightning, through the boards.

You’ve always loved the sounds of rain and thunder. More importantly, there was finally something normal. Hearing the rain pattering against window and seeing the occasional flashes of lighting in the distance relaxed you. Out of habit, you counted the seconds between the lightning and thunder to estimate how far away it was. You counted eight seconds before you heard the low rumbling of thunder.

You sighed, content, before you remembered, “It’s storming! I can collect storm water!” You ran to the first door you saw and flung it open to see what looked to be a kitchen. Excited to finally get a round of good luck, you searched through the cabinets, grabbing any jars and bowls you could find. You found a total of three glass jars, which you removed the lids from, and two large bowls. You stacked the bowls and placed the jars as best as you could inside the top bowl before heading back out the front door. You walked out from the covered entrance into the rain and placed the containers along the side of the stone path so they wouldn’t be in the way. The rain started to fall heavily, forcing you to run back inside before you were completely drenched. Luckily, the large hooded cloak you wore kept you dry for the most part. You carefully pulled off the partially-singed wet coat and draped it across the back of the rocking chair you righted earlier to dry.

“Hyii! It’s really coming down!”

Startled, you snapped your head to face the direction the voice came from, only to be met with that same bakeneko (monster cat) that tried to incinerate you.

“Gyahaha! You’ve got this stupid look on your face like a spider being attacked by a water gun!” The bakeneko cackled at you. They must have snuck in when you set out the bowls and jars. “I’ll have no trouble sneaking back into school. If you think getting thrown out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Mm, well good luck little bakeneko. It might help to not set the school on fire,” you gave them some helpful advice.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. All that matters is that I get into this school,” the bakeneko brushed off your words. “Afterall, I’m a genius who is destined to be a great magician! I've been waiting for the Ebony Carriage to come pick me up. But... But... Hmph! The Dark Mirror just doesn't have an eye for this. So that's why I came here on my own. Not letting me in would be a loss for the world; humans just don't get it.”

“Well, I have to agree with you on the Dark Mirror part. Afterall, it decided to kidnap me, and I can’t do any of that flash-bang-boom magic you’ve been throwin’ around.” ‘But I can do other magick… I wonder if they have my kind of magick here… I’ll have to do some research later…’

“Wha? You can’t use magic? Pfft! You’re useless!” The bakeneko shrieked as a drop of water fell on him through the ceiling. “So cold! The roof is leaking!” He didn’t move out of the way before another drop hit him. “Fgyaa! It keeps coming! My adorable ear fire is gonna go out at this rate!”

‘Instant karma, bitch.’ You sighed, “I guess I’ll go get one of the bowls.”

“Magic should fix this leak up real quick, but you don’t got any.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t make things go boom, I get it. If you’ve got such a problem with the leak, why don’t you fix it yourself, bakeneko?” You said over your shoulder as you walked to the door to collect one of the bowls from outside.

“Huh? Help you? No way! I’m just a regular monster staying in a rainy place. You better get a can of tuna ready before I do any work.”

You shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” You felt a drop of water land on your head this time. ‘Looks like I’ll need to get both of the bowls.’ You grabbed your damp cloak from the rocking chair and quickly threw it on before running outside towards the bowls. They had already collected about half a centimeter of storm water, and not wanting to waste it, you poured the contents of the bowls into the closest jar. Sprinting back inside, you first placed the bowls down at your feet so you could quickly peel off your now-soaked cloak and hang it back on the rocking chair. You placed the bowls under what looked to be the worst leaks in the lounge area. ‘I wonder if there’s a cleaning bucket or something in a closet somewhere.’

“Yo, I’m gonna go see if they’ve got a bucket somewhere,” you notified the bakeneko, not getting an answer, as expected.

You peered over into a nearby hallway, suddenly much more nervous as you stared down the long, dark hallway. ‘This feels like a horror game and I hate it.’ You tentatively took a step forward, and then another. You made it about five slow steps in before the floor loudly squeaked under your weight. ‘I just had an interesting thought: Actually, fuck this.’ You spun on your heel with false bravado, your entire body now tense. As you stiffly walked back towards the lounge, you froze in place as you felt the familiar tingle of eyes watching you. ‘Okay. Don’t look back. Just. Just keep walking. Put one foot in front of the other.’

It turns out it didn’t matter if you looked back or not because three ghosts suddenly appeared in front of you. They… didn’t look how you’d expect ghosts to look like. These ones looked more… cartoonish. They weren’t half as scary-looking as some of the monsters you’d seen in Scooby-Doo.

One of the ghosts giggled while the other two spoke, “We haven’t had a guest in so long…” Said one.

“I’m itching for some action,” said the other.

“Yeah, no, I’ll pass. I’ve had enough excitement for one day, thanks,” their completely underwhelming appearance circumvented practically all your initial fear, leaving you with only pure exhaustion. You didn’t have much of a filter in this state, but you didn’t really give two shits about what you said when you were tired anyway.

“Why are you talking to yourself…” the bakeneko walked around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. “Gyaaa! G-g-g-g-ghooosts!”

Looked like someone was afraid of the cartoon ghosts.

“The people living here got scared of us and left,” a ghost explained.

“We’ve been looking for more ghost pals,” another spoke. “How about you guys?”

“Deadass? Fuckin’ go for it.”

The ghosts and bakeneko looked a bit shocked that you blatantly agreed to let them kill you to turn you into a ghost.

“Wow, you guys aren’t up to date on humor, are you?”

The bakeneko was the first to snap out of disbelief and shouted, “Grim, the Great Magician, isn’t scared of some ghosts!”

‘Heh, I ain’t afraid of no ghost.’ You had to mentally remind yourself to not start humming the ghost busters theme.

Grim, as you now learned his name was (you think), spewed more of that bright blue fire, completely missing all of the ghosts.

“Where are you aiming?” The ghosts mocked him and laughed. “Over here, over here!”

“Shoot! Stop disappearing!” Grim uselessly shouted at them and continued to be a living flamethrower.

“My mans, please, stop. At this rate there’ll be no dorm left to keep us dry.”

“Shut up! Don’t try to give me orders!”

“…I’m too tired to deal with this shit anymore. Fine. I’ll get you a can of tuna if you win without burning the house down.” You mumbled the first part before speaking to Grim.

“Wah? Mm, I-I’m a genius. I won’t let one—” Grim tried to keep his stubborn pride but was interrupted by the ghosts’ mocking laughter. “Bunch of cowards, ganging up on us!”

“Two cans. Take it or leave it.”

Your new offer seemed to change Grim’s tune in a heartbeat. “Hey, you! Tell me where the ghosts are!”

“’Kay. On your left,” Grim followed your orders and managed to singe one of the ghosts with his flames.

“I hit it!” Grim shouted, now sounding excited. “Alright, let’s chase them all outta here!”

Cue you shouting directions at Grim and him spewing fire in said directions. In all honesty, it felt like a pokemon battle. Except your pokemon was a talking cat with a holier-than-thou attitude. And you were fighting actual ghosts—not ghost type pokemon—actual previously-living-human ghosts. After a few minutes of Grim burning the ghosts, however that worked, they eventually fled the scene of your would-be murder.

“E-eh? We…won?” Grim spoke with the disbelief of someone who has never won in life before.

“Yup. Good job bakeneko Grim.”

“Ha-heee, that was scar—No, I wasn’t scared at all!” Oh Grim, what caused you to act like your pride is what matters the most? “This is nothing for the Great Grim! How ‘bout that, ghosts? You done?”

“Hey, don’t taunt them, bakeneko. If they come back, I’m not giving you directions.”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘bakeneko?’ What’s that even mean?”

“Mm, it’s because you’re like a bakeneko. They’re mononoke, yokai, that resemble cats,” Grim looked ready to protest, but you continued before he had the chance, “and are extremely powerful. If you anger a bakeneko, your chances of getting out alive are slim to none.”

“Hmmph, well, I suppose The Great Grim will allow you to call him by such a title.”

Before you could continue to talk about bakeneko and other mononoke or yokai, Crowley came in through the front door just as you and Grim made it back to the lounge.

“Good evening,” he greeted. “I have graciously brought you supper.” That’s when he noticed Grim beside you. “You’re the monster that ran amuck during the entrance ceremony! I threw you out of the school! What are you doing here?”

“Hmph! I exterminated the ghost problem! Be grateful!” Grim puffed out his chest as he spoke, continuing to act high and mighty.

“Hmm? What do you mean by that?”

“…There were ghosts here that wanted to turn us into ghosts,” you blandly explained to the headmaster.

“Now that you mention it, there were some prankster ghosts living here so students keep away from this dormitory. And that's why it is now empty. I'd forgotten that.”

You half-heartedly glared at the headmaster. ‘Oh, how convenient. You put up the broke alien in a haunted house with killer ghosts that you just so happened to forget about.’

“However, hmmmm…” Crowley either didn’t notice or acknowledge your glare. “For you two to work together to get rid of them.”

“I'm not gonna overlook that "together" comment. They were just standing there watching. And I did this for a can of tuna—Ah! I haven't gotten that tuna yet!” Grim spoke, still holding on tight to that attitude of his.

‘Grim, I swear to whatever deities rule this place that you aren’t gonna get those cans of tuna if you keep up this habit of pushing others down to raise yourself up.’

“I'd like the two of you to show me how you exterminated those ghosts.”

‘Crowley, no—'

“But we already got rid of all the ghosts! Before that: Give. Me. Tuna!” Oh Grim, so we can agree sometimes!

“I shall be the ghosts. If you beat me, I'll give you tuna cans. For I am gracious.”

“Uh, no, wait, Mr. Crowley, please—”

“Now then, Transformation Potion!” Crowley pulled a vial of liquid from his coat and downed it in one go. It didn’t take long for him to become transparent and ghost-like.

“Eeeeeeeh, I don't wanna. This is a pain and I have to team up with them again…” Grim whined.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Bakeneko, maybe if you show him how strong your magic is, he’ll let you be a student.”

“Grrrnnuuu,” Grim grumbled, annoyed. “This is the last time! You absolutely, absolutely have to give me the tuna!”

And you found yourself in a pokemon battle once more; this time, it was you and a bakeneko versus an actual living breathing person that can turn into a ghost.

‘If it’s a pokemon battle, might as well use pokemon rules.’ You pointed at the see-through headmaster, “Grim, bite him!”

“Hah? You really are a stupid human!” Grim shouted and spewed fire instead, though he missed like before.

“Fine, we’ll use your fire, but I’m explaining the pokemon system to you later. On your left!”

Turns out, pokemon battles can get boring when it’s just the same thing over and over again. Eventually, it seemed the effects of the potion wore out and Crowley returned to his usual opaque self.

“Hee-haaa…” Grim was panting, trying to catch his breath. “How 'bout that!”

“I can't believe… There is a person who can command monsters,” Crowley spoke in mild awe mixed with disbelief.

‘…Does this world not have pokemon? Should I?... No, I shouldn’t… but what if—what if I introduced myself as Gary Oak and just… no I can’t do that. I can’t tell people “smell ya later.”’

“Hmmm... Actually, my teacher senses were telling me since the uproar during the entrance ceremony that you have talent as an animal or wild beast trainer.”

‘…This man is really making this a cliché pokemon plot… Is this how it all started? Am I the original trainer!? Nah… Unless—’

“But, no matter how…” Crowley began muttering to himself, to quiet for me to make out.

“Hey, just let him stay here,” you were exhausted at this point and the bakeneko had honestly grown on you some. Plus, you needed him around in order to explain pokemon to him.

“What now? Let a monster live here?” You couldn’t see Crowley’s face behind the mask, but you were sure he was giving you a judging look.

“Well, I mean, he did just show you the magic he’s got, which is a whole lot more than I’ve got, and you’re letting me stay here. So why not let him stay? He still a magician, he’s just, well, in the shape of a cat.”

After a few seconds, Crowley sighed, “It can’t be helped.”

“Funa!? Really?!” Grim’s eyes widened and lit up as bright as his flames.

“However, I can't simply allow someone, let alone a monster, into school who wasn't selected by the Dark Mirror. Also, I can't let you be a freeloader here until you return to your own world.”

“Talk about short-lived joy…”

“Listen until the end,” Crowley then turned to you. “Concerning the fact that your soul was called here, the school has to take responsibility as the owners of the Dark Mirror. For the time being, you'll be permitted to stay in this dormitory for free, but other necessities you will have to provide for yourself.”

‘Uhhh what? I don’t even have my own clothes. How the hell am I supposed to live with no money or ID?’

“Seeing as you have nothing to your name,” he gave a slight chuckle for reasons unknown, “here is my proposition.”

Your mind immediately jumped to all the horror stories you’ve heard of what comes from owing shady people favors. The growing panic must have shown on your face according to Crowley’s next words.

“No need to fret, I'll have you do maintenance and odd jobs around campus. From what I can see, you're pretty decent at cleaning,” he said after glancing around the room. “Would you two like to become the "handyman" of the school? This way you will receive special permission to remain on school grounds. You'll also be able to research going home or study whatever you desire in the library. For I am gracious. However! Only after your work is done.”

“Eeeh!? I'm not okay with that!” Grim complained. “I wanna wear that fancy uniform and be a student!”

“It's fine if you're unsatisifed. I'll simply toss you out again.”

“Ffgnnaa!? I get it! I just have to do it. Just do it!”

“’Kay.”

“Wonderful,” Crowley clapped his hands once in delight of our agreeance. “Then, you two starting tomorrow, endeavor to be the best handyman at Night Raven College!”

“Cool, now that that’s settled, headmaster,” he turned to face you. “I’m, like, about to pass out from pain. I’m covered in bruises and burns, plus my vision is blurry and I can’t focus on anything. My eyes are like a camera lens that twenty children smeared their greasy fingers on. You’re magical in that flashy, immediate results way, right? Doesn’t that mean you or someone else can help me not feel like I want to peel off my skin? It’d be cool for my skin to not burn when I get cleaning solution on it tomorrow.”

“Oh, uh, yes, of course,” Crowley almost seemed sheepish, as if he were embarrassed to have not truly noticed the state you were in until now. “While healing magic is not my forte, it should be enough to heal the wounds you have.”

He pointed his palmed towards you and you watched as it began to glow a pale yellow. Slowly you felt your burns and bruises dull themselves to just faint aches. He kept this up for about a minute before he extinguished his magic and pulled his hand back.

“Now, the worst of your wounds are still be a bit tender, but they should be completely healed after a good night’s rest. So, off you go then; sleep now so you’re ready for work in the morning,” He shooed you off with a hand gesture.

“Thank you, headmaster. C’mon Grim, let’s get going.”

As you and Grim headed up the stairs, the headmaster turned around and walked out of the building. Each step creaked under your weight as you trudged up them. While the pain was all but gone, your fatigue was still all-consuming. You followed Grim down the upper hallway, since it seemed he already picked a room before, probably when you went to find a bucket. You followed him into a room in a similar condition as the rest of the dorm. Across from the door sat a fireplace in the center of the opposite wall, a large mirror mounted above it. There were tall windows stationed on either side of the fireplace, almost as tall as the room itself. Towards the left side was a chair covered by a gray dust-cloth, and on the right sat a simple twin-sized bed. You pulled the duvet off the bed and shook it out, watching as you made a cloud of dust dance in the air. As soon as you placed the comforter back on the bed, Grim jumped up and curled himself up in the center of the bed. You were too tired to do anything about that; you’d just have too try and sleep around him. After shaking any dust off of your pillow, you slid yourself under the covers, one leg dangerously close to sliding off the bed. You fell asleep in record time that night.

.                                          .                                          .

             You had a rather rude awakening the next morning consisting of Grim yelling at you and pawing at your face because the ghosts were back. Streams of blazing blue fire almost singeing your face made this one of your worst morning experiences to date. With a final warning of there being a one-sided prank war, the ghosts phased away.

             “We’ll get rid of you eventually!” Grim shouted after them, but there was nothing but thin air left.

             “C’mon, bakeneko. Let’s go see if there’s any food in the kitchen,” You beckoned Grim with a small wave.

             “Hmph. Fine. But there better be tuna!” Grim said with a harrumph and trotted out the door ahead of you.

             As you went down the stair at the end of the hallway, you saw Crowley standing in the lounge room, waiting for you and Grim.

             “Good morning, you two,” he greeted when he noticed you. “Did you sleep well?”

             “I was sprawled out then fell out the bottom! Just how ramshackle did you let this place get?” Grim shouted, equally as upset about the state of the dorm as you were. “Then the ghosts woke me up, this is the worst!”

             “Like the dead,” was your response.

             “Even though you just got tossed from another world you can still be cheeky, wonderful!” Crowley was as upbeat as ever. “I came to speak to you about your work for today. Today you are to clean the campus, but campus is quite large. Cleaning it all without magic is impossible. So, I'd like you to clean Main Street to the main gate to the library, understood? Please watch Grim closely so he doesn't cause a scene like yesterday.”

             “I’ll try best,” you said and shrugged. You didn’t know what you’d do if Grim went out of control; you’re not fireproof, after all.

             “I'm counting on you. You have permission to have lunch in the school cafeteria. Take care of your work enthusiastically,” and with a flutter of his feathered cape, Crowley took his leave, presumably going back to campus.

“Tsk, no way I'm doing any cleaning,” Grim scrunched his nose at the thought. “I wanna go to class and, bang! Boom boom boom! Use a bunch of awesome spells!” He punched at the air with his ‘booms.’

“How ‘bout we just go to the library after we finish cleaning. Besides, libraries are where they keep all the old forbidden knowledge!” Yeah, under lock and key so no one can read them, but you weren’t about to tell Grim that. “Imagine just how much the other students will revere your power if you master ancient magic!”

“Well, what are you waiting for, human? Let’s get going!”

“Okay but let me collect my storm water first. If I wait too long, it’ll all evaporate.”

“Hmph, fine, but make it quick!”

You quickly jogged over to your bowls and jars that each held a good two inches/five centimeters worth of storm water. You poured all the water you collected into one of the jars before carrying everything back inside. You set them all down on the kitchen counter, then checked the cabinets for a lid to the jar. After finding a lid and sealing the storm water in the corresponding jar, you met back up with Grim in the lounge.

“Alright, let’s get moving.”

“About time,” Grim sauntered off, sass radiating from him with each step.

.                            .                            .

             The campus was bustling with life, students with hair every color of the rainbow going every which way. After a couple minutes of walking towards what you hoped was Main Street, the crowds began to thin out, students having made it to their respective classes. It wasn’t all that hard to find Main Street, seeing as it was the busiest and largest street on campus. What you weren’t expecting was the street to be lined with seven statues of iconic Disney villains.

             ‘I thought… I thought I was supposed to be on another planet or world or something? Why are there Disney Villains? Are you telling me that Walt Disney himself was able to expand his franchise across all of time and space?! And maybe across dimensions and alternate universes too?! Hey Walt? You’re taking it too far, man.’

“Uwaaaah~ Amazing. So, this is Main Street. I didn't get a good look yesterday but what's with these statues? All seven of them look pretty scary. This granny looks especially snobby,” Grim said, making a face at the Queen of Hearts.

“You mean the Queen of Hearts? Yeah, she played croquet with flamingos as the mallets and hedgehogs as the balls. While they were alive. Not cool if you ask me. Or most people. Animal cruelty is bad.”

“Ehh?! Why would this lady do that?” Grim looked appropriately confused.

“Who knows? Besides, the Cheshire cat is way better. A true chaotic neutral, that one.”

“Who’s that? And what does a cat have to do with this granny?”

You were about to answer before you were cut off by a new challenger approaching. “You don’t know about the Queen of Hearts?” They had a boyish appearance with short, messy orange hair and a red heart stamped over their left eye.

‘Actually, we were just about to discuss the Cheshire cat, but go ahead and assume, I guess.’

“You know her too? Is she important?” Grim asked the redhead, his attention easily being grabbed by this newcomer.

 “In the past, she was the queen who lived in the Rose Maze. She was someone who valued rules and discipline above all, strict in all things from the march of the Card Soldiers to the color of rose bushes. It was a land of madness where all submit to her rule. Why you ask? Because or else it was off with your head!” The heart-eye boy monologued with some dramatic flair.

“That's terrifying!” Grim shrieked, probably at the thought of someone chopping his head off.

“It's cool! I like it. Nobody would listen to a queen who's just nice all the time, right?”

‘Uhhhh, that queen is a tyrant, and tyrants are what lead to revolutions so… vive la révolution.’

“I suppose. A strong leader is better.” Oh, Grim, you sweet summer child who doesn’t know the difference between strength and fear.

“By the way, who are you?” Grim asked.

“I'm Ace, a fresh-faced first year. Nice to meetcha~” The boy, Ace, said with a musical lilt.

“I am Grim, a genius who'll become the greatest magician. The dimwit over here is (y/n). They're my henchmen.”

“Bakeneko, don’t you dare put me on the same level as a Scooby-Doo villain’s underling.” You glared at Grim who gave a sheepish chuckle in response.

“You've got an odd sounding name.”

“People from different places have different names. It’s called culture.” You said blandly, trying to cover up your growing anxiety.

Ace shrugged. “I guess. Just never heard your name before.”

“Hey, Ace,” Grim grabbed his attention; you could feel your shoulders sag in relief. “The lion over here with the scar, are they famous?”

Well, Ace seemed to have this handled, and you didn’t need to hear him summarize the Disney villains. Instead, you ignored him and went over to the statue of Hades and looked at him.

‘If this confirms that Hades also exists in this world, does that mean I can work with him? I know many witches back on Earth work with Greek deities, with Hades and Persephone usually being the best of them to work with. Hmm… I’ll have to do some more research.’

You then crouched down to read the stone plaque engraved in Hades’ pedestal. The large plaque read: “The lord of the underworld and guide to the wandering souls of the dead. He carried out his fearsome duties with diligence and care, m…ing even the de…t to offer their aid.” Some words had eroded away, becoming mostly unintelligible sans a few letters.* You tried to make out those two unknown words, tracing your fingers around the grooves in hopes that just maybe you’ll be able to figure out enough of the letters to piece the word together.

“No matter how long you stare at it, you’re not gonna get anything out of that, y’know,” Ace said from behind you.

You sighed and stood up, your momentary reprieve from your anxiety over. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to check.” The plaque didn’t have any information you didn’t already know, except for maybe the words you didn’t know.

“Anyway,” Ace cleared his throat, “He's the Lord of the Underworld! He rules a land crawling with evil spirit on his own. No doubt he is extremely skilled. Even though he's got a scary face, he did that detestable job without ever taking a vacation, and his sincerity won over Cerberus, the Hydra, even the Titans, to fight for him.”

“Hmmm, Hmmm. So having talent doesn't mean you get to be haughty.” Grim hummed in thought.

‘Oh, my sweet tiny bakeneko, you’re learning about manners; I’m so proud.’

“And the last one, with the horns?”

‘Oh hell yeah, Maleficent! We stan an absolute queen. Besides, who doesn’t love dragons?’

“That is the Witch of Thorns from the Magic Mountains,” Ace said, addressing Maleficent with a title rather than her name. “Noble and elegant, even within the Seven, she is top class in magic and curses! She can summon lightning and storms, cover an entire country in thorns; her magic is on a whole other level. There was even a time she transformed into a huge dragon!”

“Oooh! A dragon! All monsters look up to them!” Grim shouted excitedly.

“They're all so cool~” Ace spoke, almost dreamily, before his tone did a 180 and turned snide. “…Unlike a certain raccoon.”

“Pfft... Ahaha! I can't bear it anymore! Ahahahaha!” Ace broke out into laughter. “Aren't you the guys who went crazy at the entrance ceremony? You were summoned by the Dark Mirror even though you can't use magic, and you, a monster, weren't called but still trespassed. Yeahhh, it took everything I had not to lose it at the ceremony.”

“Whaaa!? You're a rude one!” Grim fumed, his ear fire growing in size.

             You just stood there and narrowed your gaze, your anger and anxiety fighting each other for full reign. Anxiety won out in the end, keeping you silent when met with his jabs.

“And now you aren't allowed in and got regulated to be a janitor? Haha, how lame,” Ace continued mocking the both of you.

             ‘It’s not like I had a choice in the matter…’ You clenched your jaw while Grim growled. You could feeling the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, beginning to rise.

“On top of that, you don't even know about the Great Seven,” Ace just didn’t know when to stop. “How ignorant can you be? As I recommend you go back to kindergarten before coming to Night Raven College.”

             Grim’s growls got louder as Ace continued. You, on the other hand, couldn’t bring yourself to speak and defend either of you. You felt your throat begin to close up.

“I thought I'd just mess with you a bit, but you really blew my expectations away. Unlike you two, I actually have classes to attend. Keep this school squeaky clean, you two~” He gave you a patronizing wave before turning on his heel and sauntering away.

“This jerk! He's just gonna say that and leave! I'm ticked off!” Grim opened his mouth wide.

“Wait, don’t—” You weren’t fast enough to stop Grim from using flamethrower, for a lack of better terms, on Ace.

“Oh! Watch out! What're you doing!?” Ace angrily yelled at Grim, having just barely dodged in time.

“It's what you get for making fun of me! I'm going light up that fire-head of yours!” Grim matched Ace’s volume.

“Fire-head, huh? Heeeeee. You've really got guts picking a fight with me. I'll turn you into a puffy, little toy-poodle!”

             Grim spewed more flames at Ace’s threat.

             ‘Nope, fuck this. Fuck this. I can’t breathe, dammit!’ You hid behind the nearest statue, which happened to be Maleficent, and kneeled on the ground, trying to steady yourself and calm down enough for your throat to reopen. You bent over to rest your head on the cool grass, closing your eyes and covering your ears, trying to block out the sources of your near attack. You focused on the feel of the grass against your forehead, feeling the separations between the different blades. They were still a bit damp from the morning dew. The more you distracted yourself from the thought of Ace: stressor of the century, the more your throat relaxed and allowed you to draw breath normally once more. You jumped when a shriek pierced through your ears, completely bypassing your hand barriers and reversing all the progress you made towards calming down. Worried that the shriek meant someone got hurt, you jumped out from behind the statue. Instead of someone being hurt, to your relief (you weren’t excited about being an accomplice to assault), the Queen of Hearts’ statue was blackened.

“Crap! The Queen of Hearts' statue is charred!” Ace yelled, the dread on his face matching the shriek you just heard from him.

             “It's because you're blowing the fire around! Just let me fry you!” Grim shouted back at him.

“You really think someone is just gonna let you fry them?”

“Enough!!! Just what is going on here!” The voice of Crowley boomed at the three of you, making you flinch.

‘…Fuck,’ looks like you’re not going to be able to avoid an anxiety attack after all.

             “Guh! Headmaster,” Ace went rigid.

“He's going to tie us up with the 'lash of love'!” Grim yelled. “Get outta here!”

             Though they tried to run, both were caught by Crowley’s whip, foiling their escape plans and making them both yelp in pain.

“Hurts just as much the second day in a row!” Grim whined.

“This is my Lash of Love!” Crowley was furious, and it seemed like he wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon. “It'll be another hundred years before you can outrun me! I told you just yesterday to 'not cause any trouble', didn't I? Then you go and char the statues of the Great Seven!” He directed his words at Grim before turning to Ace. “I very much would like to see you expelled.”

“Wait! Not that!”

“And you,” Crowley looked at you, making you freeze in place. “This is not how you supervise Grim.”

             You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, unable to gather the breath to form a single word. How could you talk when you were struggling to even breathe?

“My goodness,” Crowley huffed in indignation before turning to Ace. “You, what's your grade and name?”

             “Ace Trappola, first year.”

“Then, Trappola, Grim, and (y/n), as punishment, I order the three of you to wash 100 windows around campus!”

“Nyaaa!? It's all cause this joker was making fun of us!” Grim protested, his fur standing on end to make him look bigger and more intimidating. It didn’t work.

“Eeeh!? Me too?” Ace looked at the headmaster in disbelief.

“Most definitely! After school, meet in the cafeteria. Understood?”

“Fiiine…”

“Nothing but misery since yesterday!” Grim complained.

Soon, both Crowley and Ace left, and you felt your body slump in relief, your knees buckling under you.

“Wha—hey, human! What’re you doing?” Grim ran up to you, genuinely confused.

You held up a finger to say ‘gimme a minute’ while you caught your breath. “Sorry…Grim…” you said after a minute, panting between words.

“Why are you out of breath? It’s not like you were running or anything.”

“This…this just happens… sometimes…” you shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, leaning against the statue of Maleficent behind you. “I’m not very good with yelling… or with people, for that matter.”

“Hmmm,” Grim hummed in thought. “You humans are weird.”

You gave a soft chuckle at that, “that we are, Grim. That we are.” The two of you sat there in silence for a minute or two as your attack gradually faded away. “Hey Grim? I have a proposition for you.”

“Hah? What do you mean human?”

“What if we skipped lunch so we can make Ace suffer a bit?”

“Heee! Now you’re talkin’ my language!” Grim grinned widely, showing of his shark-like teeth.

      *That was all I could make out from the plaque you can see in the seven statues background image.

 A/N: Life’s been pretty shit recently hasn’t it.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #idia shroud x reader #idia #other boys x reader #the romancing options aren't set in stone yet #but these two boys are #cuz they're my favorites #and they're the whole reason why I'm writing a fic to begin with #also #adult octomer azul? #hot #you know what's sexy? #two consenting adults in love #you know what's not sexy? #literally anything else #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XXII

The Crown of the Monster Queen

Trigger warnings: canon violence, language, gun, drug and alcohol use. Mature/sexual content.

Please enjoy!

…..

…..

It was his turn at watch, but when Wraith checked the bedroll, Danse was nowhere to be found. His power armor was gone as well, “What the heck?” She pushed down a brief surge of fear, “Probably has the internal military clock and is already up… off having a pee…” The two of them were on their way to Breakheart Banks to clear a super mutant camp, and the little nervous voice in her head was suggesting that he had taken it upon himself to scout, or even worse, engage the pack without her. “He doesn’t strike me as the impetuous type… goddammit.” She waited patiently for all of five seconds before suiting up and going to look for him.

The previous evening Danse had frowned at Wraith’s suggestion to camp on the river, “In light of our power armor, it is ill advised to bivouac with water to your back.”

His pushback irritated her, “I thought you said you’d follow my lead on this trip, considering it’s for the Minutemen. Besides, in light of the existence of mirelurks, we would be more likely to retreat inland. Plus,” she folded her arms and smiled at him, “it’s pretty here.”

Your stupid blimp is at the airport. The airport is on a peninsula. With water around it!

He raised a voluminous eyebrow and glanced around, “I suppose the visibility is optimal at this location. And this outcropping of sandstone should provide concealment for a smokeless fire as well as a vantage point,” he gave her a slight smile of his own, “to watch for said mirelurks.”

The small cove had a clear view of the river as well as a relatively easy escape route up and into a small cluster of sheltering trees. Wraith and Danse collected dry driftwood along the shoreline and while he started the fire she disembarked her power armor to start meal prep.

“You should practice doing more tasks while in the armor.”

“Okay, but after I finish setting this tripod up, I’m going to go water those bushes,” She gave him a significant look, “and that’s not a task one does in the suit, correct?”

His eyebrows knit, “That’s too close to camp for a latrine, knight.”  

Proud of herself for choosing such a great campsite, Wraith sported a large grin while she made dinner. She was in a good enough mood that she turned her radio on low and hummed tunelessly along with the music. She noticed Danse watching her, an inscrutable look on his face, “You need something, Paladin Danse? You’re just kinda spacing out o’er there.”

He blinked and shook his head, “Negative,” He lowered his eyes and his voice, “I was simply lost in thought.”

Mama Murphy had told Wraith that she could “save a soul lost in steel” and she had taken that to mean Elder Maxson. To that end she had reconsidered her previous rejection of Danse’s invitation to join the Brotherhood. Now, she figured the best way to gain the elder’s ear and remain in his good graces was to play friendly with his apparent favorite. Initially she had been put off by Danse’s stiff and formal demeanor and had put him in the same category of irritating as Rhys, but after spending more time with him her opinion had begun to soften. Somewhat.

“No problem. You know, if there’s something bothering you, I’m happy to listen.”

He looked surprised, “Oh! That’s not... Thank you. I’m going to do a perimeter check, if time permits…”

“Chow will be ready in about ten.”

Can’t wait to get away from me, huh?

“Acknowledged.”

They hadn’t spoken very much after that and the silence was less than comfortable. Wraith had volunteered first watch and had been relieved to put some distance between them.

Now she was worried for him (underneath the irritation) and she set a brisk pace as she stomped southward along the shore. She hadn’t gotten very far when she heard a shrill whistle from behind her. Whipping around, she lost her balance. The shoreline had angled upward sharply to form a cliff and she had a scary moment where she attempted to pinwheel her arms as she teetered dangerously close to the edge.

Danse came charging to her rescue, “I got you!” He whipped off his helmet, a glare created from worry on his face, and immediately launched into a graphic lecture on the finer points of drowning in power armor, “… and furthermore the joints and cockpit are not water tight. Ha… although this allows for a greater mobility… ha… it will fill quickly,” As he spoke a grin kept pulling on the corner of his mouth as the image of her flailing arms kept playing over in his mind, “and so standard procedure maintains you must keep a level head and wait until the water has completely filled… ha… the quick release… ha ha…” The smile had gotten free and now there was no denying he was laughing.  

Wraith was not amused, “You picked a helluva time to develop a sense of humor!”

“You…” He stopped trying to fight it, “your arms!”

Wraith sighed and chuckled, “Yeah, yeah.” She shoved him playfully, “Where were you?! I don’t think it’s standard procedure to disappear like that.”

He pointed back toward camp, “You walked right past me, knight. I hailed you but you must not have heard me over the noise generated by a quick march.”

“Okay, but why were you up already?”

He kept a perfectly straight face, “Morning constitutional.”

Wraith’s laugh came out like a bark, “HA!” She shook her head and smiled, “Okay. Okay.” Turning away from him, she headed back to camp. “Paladin Danse, I think we have been working next to each other but not with each other.”

“Agreed.”

“So we need to communicate better, right? No more one-word answers…”

“Agreed.” He smiled at her when she turned around to give him an incredulous look, “That was a joke, knight.”

“That’s another thing; call me ‘Wraith’, please.” They were back at the campsite and she exited her armor, kicked off her boots and crawled into the bedroll.

“That’s too…”

“You call Haylen and Rhys by their names. You guys are a bonded team, right?” She yawned expansively, “We need to be a team too. So start bonding.”

He chuckled, “I believe that works both ways, knight. I’m going to patrol now; we can bond over super mutant eradication later today.”

“OORAH!”

“AD VICTORIAM!”

That afternoon the pair scouted the super mutant camp before falling back to work on a plan. To her surprise, Danse was all for just the two of them clearing the site and not calling for reinforcements.

Maybe he’s more reckless then I thought…  

On the eastern edge of the former farm was a small lookout tower with a single super mutant in residence. After Wraith quietly dispatched the occupant, they set up a perimeter of mines then both took up position in the tower. Picking their targets, they began their first volley.

The mines were quickly exhausted as the humanoids swarmed the tower. This was all part of the plan and Wraith, whose armor was modded for melee, vaulted over the rail to smash and chop their opponents; keeping them clear of her teammate. The two of them stayed in constant communication: calling encouragement and tips back and forth to one another. It was working out fairly well until the alpha, a huge and imposing primus, got a couple of hits on Danse. The mutant called his two remaining pack mates back to him at the encampment’s main structure, and ducked back into cover before Wraith could return fire.

“Are you alright?!” Wraith retreated back toward the tower, crouched as low as the armor would let her.

“Affirmative. Taking cover.”

She put the tower between her and the primus and removed her helmet, “What’s your status?”

“Shoulder’s a little hot, but no stimpak required. This monster has fought the Brotherhood before.”

“Or, at the very least, opponents in power armor. Can you get a shot on either of his brutes?”

“Both, actually.”

“Okay, pick one.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna kill the other one, silly.”

His small grunt indicated his annoyance at her oversimplification, “I understand. What I’m asking is ‘then what’?”

“Well, we’ll see, but I’m hoping the big guy will be motivated to come out of cover once he sees how much fun wrestling with me can be.” She winked at him.

He chuckled, “Put your helmet back on, knight. I’ll take the one on the left.”

“Fantastic. I’ll signal you when I’m in position.”

To get within striking distance, Wraith looped right, part way down the steep, rocky hill that overlooked the river while trying desperately to be stealthy in the power armor. Rather than stare at her intended target, she kept her eyes on a tuft of grass just in front of them.

You don’t feel me. I’m not here. You somehow can’t see this large, metal suit coming to kill you…

Once satisfied with her position, she uncovered the small mirror on her gauntlet and sent a ray of light back toward Danse. After counting to three she launched herself at her intended victim. She could hear her teammate’s plasma rifle hit the brute on the left just as she slammed her gauntlet’s bayonet through her brute’s closest knee. The impact forced their legs together and when Wraith raised her arm to flip them onto their back, the incredibly sharp instrument sliced right through, severing the leg completely. A quick chop at the neck beheaded the humanoid and Wraith was satisfied to see a large puddle of green where Danse’s mutant had been standing.

All according to plan.

“TIME TO DIE, HUMAN!”

The primus, on the second level of the farmhouse, took several shots at Wraith through the floorboards, clipping her helmet while she attempted a somersault which she couldn’t complete, “DammitFUCK!” She was able to roll away to the other side of the structure and get to her feet, but dropped her rifle and was shot two more times in the process, “Fucking ARMOR! Now I know why Deacon fuckin’ hates this shit!”

The primus laughed at her, “HA! BUCKET HEAD IN THE DIRT LIKE A MOLE RAT! HAHAHAHAHAA!”

“OH YEAH? WELL, PUNY GREENSKIN IS AFRAID TO FIGHT ME WITHOUT A GUN!”

The primus howled in rage; swinging his fists as he thundered down the shack steps to prove her wrong. Just as Wraith moved to meet him, an alarm sounded which indicated her fusion core was low.

Gotta wrap this up quick.

The alpha was an excellent fighter and Wraith, having some small difficulty adjusting to the suit’s more limited range of motion, got her bell rung a couple of times. She backed away as they grappled, hoping to bring him into range of Danse’s rifle, but when she cleared the building, she could see the paladin was no longer in the tower.

Gotta wrap this up quicker!

She trusted that her partner would circle around the other side of the building as soon as he lost sight of her, probably even taking the same route she did, so she didn’t panic. She was tired of being bashed around though so she caught up her opponents arms at his wrists and held on for dear life.

“GAAAAAARRR! LET GO, BUCKET HEAD!” Flexing powerfully, the great mutant lifted Wraith a couple of feet off the ground in his attempts to free himself from her grasp. He shook her back and forth but when that didn’t work, he raised his arms even higher before slamming her violently back to earth.

She was able to keep her feet and her grip, “HA! Can’t get rid of me that easily!” She heard a gasp behind her and was able to turn her head just enough to see Danse was watching them, “Don’t just stand there being impressed! Help me!”

Danse flinched guiltily before blasting the primus to green goo, “Are we clear, knight?”

Wraith doffed her helmet and patted her sore head experimentally, “Yeah, he was the last of ‘em.”

Danse removed his own helmet and was beaming at her, “Outstanding! Are you sound?”

“I hear ringing, if that’s what you mean.”

He chuckled, gave her a hefty pat on the back and ducked into the shack staircase, “We should check to see if they had any valuable equipment…” he turned back to her when Wraith didn’t immediately follow, “Are you seriously injured?”

“My core’s spent.”

He frowned, “You should still be able to move…” He smiled at her when she stuck her lip out at him, “I’ll just switch it out for you. I didn’t realize it was so low. I thought you said you went through the checklist I gave you…”

“Danse, I really like working on power armor…”

“As do I.”

“But, fighting in it…”

“Practice makes perfect, knight.” He gave her another pat, this time more gentle and affectionate, “You’re all set. AD VICTORIAM!”

“Oorah.”    

…..

…..

“Emogene…” Hancock narrowed his eyes as he repeated Wraith, “Emogene…” He turned away from her and looked to MacCready, “Emogene? That Cabot dame? Isn’t she…”

“Dead? Yeah. I’m pretty sure.”

Hancock looked down at Infamy who had flopped backward and was lying on the floor, “What the hell’s she mean?”

Panting, they weakly waved him away, “I couldn’t begin to guess.”

Hancock knit his brow and briefly entertained the images of choking the life out of the glowing one as he walked past them on the way to the staircase, “Nicky… I need Valentine...” He took the steps two at a time with MacCready, Deacon and Danse hot on his heels.

“You’re thinking you got something?” MacCready tried but failed to keep the desperation from his voice.

Hancock paused before picking up the Radio Freedom receiver, “What I’m thinkin’ is that we need to find out where Wraith hid the alien artifact that started this shit.”

“Alien artifact?” Deacon’s eyes widened, “Like, UFOs? I leave for a little while and you guys are picking fights with aliens?”

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Well, MacFeisty, I just assume it was you…”

“WHAT THE HECK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”

“Will you boys be quiet?! I’m on the phone!”

The minutemen operator who answered was less than courteous, “It’s the middle of the night and I’m not your errand boy, Mayor Hancock. Furthermore, this line is strictly for Minutemen personnel, and not for your personal use.”

“May I?” Danse accepted the receiver and lit into the unfortunate solider at full volume, “SPECIALIST REGIS, THIS IS CAPTAIN DANSE. THIS IS AN URGENT MATTER AND YOU WILL PERSONALLY COLLECT NICK VALENTINE AND BRING HIM TO THE RADIO AT ALL SPEED OR I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT YOU ARE ON LATRINE DUTY UNTIL THE DAY YOU EXPIRE! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!”

MacCready smirked at him, “Well, I guess you’re useful to have around after all.”  

In a few short minutes, Valentine’s worried voice came through the speakers, “John? What’s going on?”

“Tell me everything about what went down with Emogene Cabot.”

…..

Mama Murphy sighed, “Child, I know I can be of use. The Buffout won’t kill me. It’s my choice regardless.”

Sofie prickled at being called a child, “Ms. Murphy, what you do with your free time is none of my concern. That being said, I will not condone the recreational use of chems. As for your being of use,” her smile was forced; her perfect teeth a stark contrast against her scarred lips, “I’m sure Wraith wouldn’t want you to risk your health to help her.” The tiny ghoulette returned her gaze to the reports on her desk, brooking no further argument.

Murphy sighed again as she rose stiffly to her feet, “Thank you for seeing me, then.” After she left Sofie’s office she had fully intended to go home to her chair, but found herself walking through the door of the clinic instead. “Hello? Noah? Are you in here, son?”

The handsome young man poked his head out of a supply closet, “Hiya, Mama! How can I help you today?”

“I need you to give me some Buffout and then write down everything I say after.”

He blinked rapidly for a moment, “Uh… I’m a medic, not a chem dealer?”

“Semantics.”

He frowned, “I think the subject matter is a little more complicated…”

“Wraith needs my help. Our help. I can feel it…” She half closed her eyes and reached a hand out toward the ceiling as if the vision was tangible and she could pull it from the air, “I can just see…” She let her arm drop, “Please. I’d prefer if someone is with me; my memory ain’t what it was when I was young. But if you won’t help this old lady out, I’ll still find my own way to what The Sight wants me to see.”

Williams bit his lip, his dark eyes troubled, “This goes against what the doc taught us… but I seem to remember her also telling us to explore and discover new science, so… loophole?” He ducked back into the closet, “How many do you need?”

“Just one, child. Get ready to take notes.” She settled into the office loveseat, tossed the pill into her mouth with a casual negligence and closed her eyes, “Ohhhh, that’s the stuff. Feels like I could tear down a building, ha ha.” After a few seconds her eyes opened and when she spoke her voice was different: a cadence closer to chanting, “The one who can’t speak will tell them where. I can see them descending into the deepest dark where there is no air. Power’s lesser, ravaged twin calls to it. Guarded only by an ancient, unseeing eye, they seek and find their sorrow at the very bottom of the world.”

Williams felt compelled to the edge of his seat. After a few moments of silence so absolute, he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, he touched the elderly woman on her arm, “Mama Murphy? Are you okay?”

She sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye, “I… think so. Oh dear. Oh no…” Alarmed, Williams half stood but she waved him back to his seat, “I’m okay, son. Oh, Noah, I didn’t see him come back. Child, I fear he’ll be lost to the darkness.”

…..

…..

“DARN IT, GERTY! MOOOOVE!” MacCready shoved at Bossy’s brahmin, “How can you have two heads, BUT NO BRAINS AT ALL?!”

The caravan from Goodneighbor to Sanctuary had been ambushed by super mutants near Lexington and in her attempt to flee, the terrified bovine had trapped the merc in the doorway of one of the town’s many dilapidated buildings.

“Damn it, MacCready, will ya stop playin’ with Gertrude and give us a hand?! The hell I’m payin’ ya for?!”

Diving between the brahmin’s front legs, the young man had to roll to the side as one of the mutants attempted to stomp him with a large green foot. He unsheathed his bayonet as he went and stabbed viciously, piercing the limb. When the humanoid involuntarily lurched downward, MacCready vaulted to his feet and slashed their throat from ear to ear before spinning away and shooting two more mutants who were closing in on the bawling cow.

Bossy nodded at him, “Now, that’s caps well spent.”

“Hancock’s caps, you mean?”

“Bah…”

Just as MacCready felt they were making a dent in the mutants, a mob of ferals, attracted by the commotion, attacked as well, “What is going ON TODAY?!” He dodged a roundhouse from a super mutant that when it made contact with the feral behind him, all but annihilated the ghoul’s misshapen head, “Thanks!” MacCready smiled at the mutant then shot him in the eye. He was knocked flat a moment later as a tangle of ferals verses mutant crashed into him. He got the breath knocked out of him and panic settled in as he realized they were being overwhelmed by the sheer chaos.

“CHOOOOOO CHOOOOOOOO! HERE COMES THE PAIN TRAIN!”

Wraith, wearing her power armor and wielding a rocket sledge, came crashing into the middle of the brawl; scattering ferals and mutants alike. Danse followed right behind her, strategically reducing the mob’s numbers to green puddles as he came.

There was moment when Danse nearly shot a caravanner, but for MacCready slamming his rifle butt into Danse’s arm, forcing him to miss.

“SHE’S NOT A FERAL YOU DUMBASS!”

Wraith stepped in between the two men as it looked like it might come to blows, “Easy boys. We’re all allies here…”

“Yes, it’s fortuitous that we happened by. Otherwise this group of… wastelanders, would have surely been killed…”

MacCready stepped around Wraith to hiss in Danse’s face, “We were doing just fine…”

“Must’ve been hard to get an accurate assessment from your back…”

Wraith saw the deadly look in MacCready’s eye and quickly intervened, “Whoa, whoa! Knock it off, Danse.” She turned back to MacCready, “I’m sorry about that…” She was interrupted by a message from Radio Freedom and after listening intently to her Pip-Boy for a moment she smiled apologetically at him, donned her helmet and left with Danse as quickly as she had arrived.

It was much later that night when Hancock crossed through the mostly empty bar and poked his head into the V.I.P. section of the Third Rail. There he found an extremely morose MacCready, well into his drink, “What’s the good word, little brother?”

After answering with an impressive burp, the young man patted the couch seat next to him, “Comere ‘nd cheer me up.”

Hancock slung an arm around to squeeze his shoulder as he sat next to him, “I see yer drinkin’ with purpose. Bossy said ya had a bit of a dust-up today…”

He waved the comment away, “’Snot that. I saw Wraith.”

Hancock made a face, “Still stomping around with the full metal jackass?”

MacCready laughed, but it tapered off to growl, “Can’t believe she ditched me for that tin can. What the heck’s she doing helping the Brotherhood of Squeal for anyway?”

“Well, I think she’s mostly touring ol’ rusty bottom ‘round the Commonwealth helpin’ Minutemen settlers. She wants him to see the plight of the people on the ground so when he flies up and reports to that balloon-wielding clown they call ‘Elder’, maybe he’ll have a more down-to-earth sensibility, you feel me?”

MacCready guzzled the last half of his beer and belched again, “I feel they should’ve mindeded their own busses… boise… butts, back to the Captinnal…”

“Or, better still, puncture their zeppelin on Trinity Tower and,” Hancock ran his thumb through the air while blowing a raspberry, “cast themselves out to sea in one long fart.”

MacCready laughed so hard he nearly fell off his seat, “Whew! Isneedsome air!”

Hancock helped him up the stairs, but hesitated when they opened the door to a substantial storm, “Oops, looks like this air’s damper than usual…”

The merc gently pushed off of him, removed his cap and stepped out into the torrent; closing his eyes and lifting his chin to let the rain wash his face, “Feels good…”

Hancock caught his breath as the young man turned and smiled at him just as lightning flashed across the sky; turning his eyes a brilliant aquamarine. He stepped out into the deluge, caught MacCready under his arm and led him past the doors to the bar and into the Old State House proper, “Can’t have you getting’ sick, now…”

Once up the winding stair, the ghoul led him to his bed and eased him down on it, “You can sleep it off here…” he helped him out of his gear and stooped to help with his boots as well.

“You gonna take my pants off too, big man?”

It would be so easy. Hancock could picture it in his mind: pushing MacCready onto his back, his mouth on his, hands exploring the young man’s warm, lean-muscled skin in search of scars… But when he brought his dark eyes level with MacCready’s brilliant blue ones, he hesitated. Yes, there was lust there, but it was the bleary-eyed-non-specific lust of someone lost in drink. He leaned in close, pushed his damp hair from his brow and planted a kiss on the merc’s forehead, “Ask me again when yer sober.”

When the ghoul turned to walk away, MacCready caught at his hand, “Please… just… I don’t want to be alone… Would you read to me? I… wanna to hear your voice.”

Hancock’s sigh was weary, but he smiled kindly down at him, “Whatever you need from me.”

…..

…..

“I need you to stop naggin’, that’s what I need!”

“It might be that Strong is the only thing keeping her at bay, and now you’re running off on a wild goose chase…”

“Nicky, I’m not…”

“When you know you have people who can go for you!”

Hancock stopped his jog, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Valentine, you have my permission to shoot me if Radiance turns me feral, alright?!”

“Christ, John!”

“I should be able to restrain you in the event that you are mentally incapacitated.” Danse’s armor squeaked slightly as he pantomimed a hug.

Hancock chuckled at him, “Thanks, brother.”

After much debate, Hancock and Danse had left the Peabody Safehouse, stopped at Diamond City to pick up Valentine and were now making their way to the Cabot’s home.

“Besides, Nicky, she’ll have more of a fight on her hands: I’m stone sober.” He resumed running, “I think the closer you are to being out of your mind the easier she can get in it.”

“I can see that being a possibility; you said most of your people just had headaches, but the ones who were steady users went feral.”

“Were you imbibing on the day in question?” Danse tried to phrase the question as politely as possible.

“Well, no. I was watching my grand baby. But, I wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind, you feel me?” Hancock picked up the pace, “Wraith missing, and Preston named General as if she had died. Not to mention that my people were going feral all around me and I had no idea why.” He grunted uncomfortably, “This is all getting a little too touchy feely…”

“So, high mental anxiety paired with what? Your being a ghoul? Still feel like we’re missing a piece of this puzzle.”

“According to Mother Isolde, some of the human Children of Atom were suffering from headaches as well. No doubt from when Radiance was in the Glowing Sea gathering feral ghouls.”

Valentine was breathing hard trying to keep up, “When I questioned Infamy, they said most of the horde had been from their efforts and that Radiance had stolen them.”

“The piece we are missing is that alien headband…”

“There’s no way, Hancock.” Valentine talked louder when the ghoul tried to object, “There wasn’t enough left of anything after Deegan shot Emogene!”

“Well, if I see what’s left lying cold and still in the ground instead of floating around terrorizing the neighborhood, then I’ll have nothin’ more to say ‘bout it!”

Valentine took point when they reached the Cabot House and the patrolling sentry bot seemed to recognize him as he was allowed to ring the intercom, “This is Nick Valentine calling, and I was hoping to talk to Jack, if he’s available.”

Edward Deegan’s tone was cool, “What’s this about?”

“We’d like to talk about the unfortunate events that took place on the day that Ms. Cabot passed…”

“You’ve a lot of nerve, Valentine…”

Hancock gently pushed Nick aside, “You been keeping up with this Radiance business?”

“Hancock? Uh, yeah sure. Why?”

“Wraith says she’s Emogene.”

The door practically flew off of its hinges and Deegan, backlit yet clearly enraged, stood huffing in its frame, “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!”

“Edward?!” Jack’s voice came drifting down the stairs, “Who on earth are you bellowing at?!”

“It’s Nick Valentine, Hancock and some Minuteman-In-A-Can…”

“Well, let them in!”

The angry ghoul stabbed a finger at Hancock, “Just you watch yourself. You hear?”

As he listened to Valentine briefly outline Wraith’s current plight and the subsequent revelation that Radiance was Emogene, Jack grew increasingly agitated, “I question the validity of any claim made by the former general as she is clearly insane.”

There was a heavy, ominous silence as Wraith’s three friends were shocked to speechlessness. This was followed by absolute bedlam, as all five of them started yelling at and to each other. After a few minutes, the noise took on yet another layer of volume as Jack’s mother Wilhelmina walked into their living room banging two pots together. Then silence reigned again as they all stopped to stare at her.

“Gracious! Five grown men yelling like little boys. What on earth is the matter with you all?”

“Please, Mother, it’s nothing I can’t…”

“Hush now, Jack. Don’t presume to tell me it’s ‘nothing’.” She turned to Valentine and gave him a toe to crown look, “Who are you, young man?”

He chuckled at her choice of words, removed his hat and dipped his head respectfully, “Mrs. Cabot, I’m Detective Nick Valentine, P.I.”

“Oh, that’s right. You were with my Emogene…” She fell in on herself for a moment then straitened and gave him a hard look, “What do you want with what’s left of my family?”

Doffing his helmet, Danse dropped to one knee, “Apologies, Miss, but we would like to pay our respects to your late daughter. Such a tragedy was her passing we would lay a laurel on her gravesite, but only with your approval.” As all eyes turned to him, he maintained a look that was a masterful mix of chivalry, humility and sorrow; the perfect personification of a knight.

Wilhelmina was completely entranced and stood gazing at him for a moment, “Yes. Yes of course. She’s entombed in the family crypt at Wildwood Cemetery.”

“Mother! These ruffians fully intend on disturbing her grave and you just told them where to go!”

“Now, don’t be ridiculous, Jack. Why should they want to do that?”

Although he was irritated by the pomp of the Cabot household, Hancock wasn’t without sympathy for a mother who had lost a child. He followed the example set by his companions and removed his hat, “We’ve no intention of desecrating a quiet grave, ma’am.”

Jack glared daggers at him, “I shall be going along to make sure of it.” He turned to Deegan, “Edward?”

The family guardian sighed heavily, “Yeah, Jack, me too.”

The group left almost immediately yet the sun had set by the time they arrived at the cemetery. They paused at the broken gate and crouched low, expecting to see feral ghouls wandering around. However, all was quiet and the only thing moving was a swirling mist that had settled into the graveyard.

The scene sent chill fingers up his spine and Valentine found to be very fitting, “Like the set of a horror flick…”

Jack scoffed at him, turned on his flashlight, stood up abruptly and briskly led the way through to the mausoleums built in to the eastern embankment. His pace slowed as the beam of light reached what was meant to be his sister’s final resting place, “How…”

The concrete building had been blasted apart from within.

“Looks like she’s not in at the moment. Perhaps we should check back later?” Hancock was smug.

“Fascinating!” Jack turned to Deegan, “I was shocked that any part of her head remained. The bullet must have fully struck the artifact! I gave what I thought was the total remains of it to Wraith, per her insistence, but I must have been mistaken. A small portion must have remained. Perhaps the combination of radiation…” He spun away from Deegan and grabbed Valentine by the arms, “I must go and speak with Wraith!”

Valentine blinked a few times before looking over at Danse and Hancock, “Anyone else just get whiplash?”

…..

“I don’t trust you…”

“Naturally.”

“And I don’t like you.”

“Oh! I’m terribly hurt.”

Once again Wraith and Infamy were together in the void of her consciousness. No longer pure white, there was a yellow-green haze overhead that bent down to meet with the horizon. Wraith theorized that because none of it was technically real, the coloration was a way that her mind had come to terms with Radiance’s barrier. It gave her something to push against so she had grudgingly admitted that Atom’s Assassin was apparently helping. The glowing one had danced around her gloating and so she wanted to make sure they understood what their relationship was.

“Once I’m free of her then I’m going to make sure I’m free of you.” Even though it wouldn’t take her away from them, she turned her back and walked away anyway.

Infamy followed behind, skipping, “And here I thought I was beginning to grow on you, hahaha!”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a cream for that...” Wraith trailed off as she felt a change in the void. If air existed there it suddenly became heavy and hot. She turned back to tell Infamy off if it was something they were doing, but the words died on her lips. Radiance was standing right behind them.

Infamy turned as well and took a few steps backward to get outside of striking range, “Looks like your chaperone is here. Curfew already? Hmm. Seems sooner than usual…”  

“Infamy, you should leave,” There was something different about this Radiance: something more solid. More like the version that tormented Wraith with the memories of Marie’s death. More like the one that had burned her, “I don’t think this is a proxy…”

Radiance had locked eyes with her opposing glowing one, “You. I thought I could ignore someone as weak as you.” She glanced at the barrier, “You’re becoming a problem, I see. I’m close enough now though. Close enough…”

“Infamy! Leave! Leave NOW!” Using all her strength, Wraith ejected her ally before Radiance could destroy them. Then, left alone with her tormentor, she lifted her chin defiantly.

Wraith’s display of strength and nerve thrilled the monster queen, “Yessss. Beloved, you are strong!” She took a step closer, her arms out wide, “Imagine how much more powerful you could be if only you would join with me. Give yourself to me, my love. I could give you such pleasure…”

Wraith growled at her, “Never. You don’t love me. You don’t love anyone.”

“You’re wrong! From the moment I met you when came to rescue me from that silly preacher, I have loved you.”

“Prove it. Let me out.”

Radiance seemed to flicker out of focus and just for a moment, an image of Emogene Cabot flashed in her place, “We can’t. You have something we must have. We are incomplete without it.” Now the glowing one turned up the heat and sent tendrils of chartreuse flames crawling across the unseen floor toward Wraith, “You must tell us! Tell us where we can find the rest! Tell us where our crown is!”  

…..

…..  

“Ah, here you are.” Danse had been looking all over the Prydwen for Wraith and it had been Proctor Ingram that suggested he check the forecastle of the airship. “I take it your audience with the elder didn’t go as you had expected?” The wind was intense and he practically had to shout in order for her to hear, “It’s certainly bracing out here!”

Wraith stood at the very tip of the narrow beam. She was in her power armor, but had removed her helmet and was staring at the city, “No. It went pretty much exactly how I expected.”

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you, knight.”

She chuckled humorlessly, and turned her head to smile sadly at him, “I’m on the precipice, Paladin Danse. I’m going to have to make decisions soon. Hard choices…” She could see he was confused and concerned. The concern was genuine and she felt a guilty tug at her heart. “I’m having a hard time getting through to him. I thought that I should… find it easier. He doesn’t want to hear me.”

“Take the time to remember why we’re out here; the elder has only the highest concern for the citizenry of the Commonwealth…”

“All her citizens?”

“You mean ghouls?”

“Don’t make that face.” She walked back toward him and had a brief moment of disorientation as she wasn’t used to looking down to talk to him, “Daisy. Remember Daisy?”

“The shopkeep in Goodneighbor? What about i… her?”

“You very much enjoyed speaking with her… don’t shake your head!” Wraith let herself sound angry, “Your elder would have her ejected from any B.O.S. settlement and forced out into the ruins.”

“Simply to protect any human citizen from the day when it… she, inevitably goes feral...”

“No human has ever acted spontaneously out of passion and hurt or even murdered someone? Besides that, there is a distinct lack of evidence that all ghouls would go feral given enough time.” Saddened, Wraith swallowed a few times to prevent herself from crying, “I guess I’ve failed with you too.”

Danse looked slightly panicked, “Failed? How do you mean, knight?”

“I’ve grown to like you, Danse. I feel like we’ve become friends. How do you feel about us?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Unaccustomed to heart-to-heart conversations, he was struggling to articulate how he felt about her, “I’ve told you off-the-record, personal information. Things I’ve never told anyone. You’ve become a confidant; a true friend.”

“I’m glad.” Her smile was sad. She let her eyes drop to the airport and was quiet for a moment. “Do you know where I got this?” She drew Kremvh’s Tooth and held it aloft so that the setting sun glinted off the wicked-looking blade; making it seem as if it was made of fire. “Hancock and I were responding to a Minutemen call at Dunwich Borers. There was a raider clan there. Bedlam. That was the name of their leader.” She sheathed the ornate knife and returned her eyes to the ground below, “After the fight we pushed forward. I guess we felt like tough shit and were looking for trouble. I saw some stuff. Never could explain… anyway,” She looked back at Danse who was listening intently, “There was a well… or something and I decided I was going to show off for Hancock. I dove in and swam to the bottom which is where I found the knife. I can hold my breath for a very, very long time, but I didn’t tell him that. About half way back I saw him. He had jumped in, fully intending to save me. Except now he was half drowned and I ended up towing him to the surface. After he caught his breath, do you know what the first thing he said to me was?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“He said ‘Whoa! That’s a badass knife!’ and asked if he could hold it.”

“Knight…”

“He risked his life in an attempt to save mine…”

“I don’t see how that’s rel…”

“Of course it’s relevant!” She wasn’t shouting just because of the wind anymore, “He’s a ghoul, yes, but that doesn’t preclude him from being a caring person! A citizen of the Commonwealth! Why should his wellbeing be any less a priority?” She pushed on when he didn’t answer, “I hope that you will spend some time thinking about what I’ve said. For now, we should go our separate ways.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand…”

“I know you don’t, Danse. And that’s upsetting.”

“I’ll… verify if there’s a vertibird available for you…”

“No need.”

“No! Do not jump from here. If you land in the water…” He trailed off as Wraith had already vaulted over the railing. He saw her land safely and was impressed despite his frustration. He stood at the rail for a long while; letting the harsh wind buffet him as the sun went down.

…..

…..

Infamy stood, dazed, “She kicked me out. She kicked me out?! She kicked me out!”

“Stop saying that! What the heck are you even talking about?”

They acted as if they couldn’t hear MacCready and ran up the basement steps, “Ohhhh, Strong! Where are you my great green galoot?”

“STRONG IS NOT YOUR ANYTHING!” The massive humanoid had been sitting in the doorway cleaning Smashy but now lurched to his feet to glare at the glowing one.

“Never mind. Radiance is here! Somewhere…”

“How do you know?” MacCready ran out into the yard with Strong. Peering through his binoculars he rotated in a circle.

“She crashed my session with our problem child.” They scrunched up their face, “Wraith just might have saved my life. Not sure if it was just self-preservation or if she genuinely cares what happens to me. She is the sort who would act automatically altruistically. Yet again, I like to think I have a way with people, you understand…”

“Will you shut up?! Jeez! You’re making it hard to concentrate!”

“Never realized one might need their ears to see. But, then again, you are the professional.”

“GHOUL’S SKIN WOULD MAKE A NICE BELT AND HAT!”

Infamy took the hint.

“I don’t see any glowing lights. I think you should still go out, Strong. Even if we can’t see her we want her to see you.”

He nodding then threw back his head and bellowed mightily, “RADIANCE! STRONG WILL RIP YOU APART AND PRESENT YOUR GUTS TO ALPHA!”

Deacon, haven taken an earlier shift, was napping on the couch when he heard their commotion. He joined MacCready on the lawn with his own pair of binoculars just as the super mutant jogged away, “Infamy, what‘s Radiance’s range?”

“For me it’s a few hundred feet or so. Might be more, might be less with your caged monster.”

“I don’t see Radiance but I do see our intrepid trio… Looks like they brought guests.”

The two groups came together and brought one another up to speed. Danse woke Curie and afterword they moved en masse to the basement. Rather than greet them with her customary threat display, Wraith gazed vacantly off into a shadow-filled corner. Apart from Deacon, who stayed near the staircase, they fanned out around the cage and stood in silent uncertainty.

“You thinkin’ she might be duking it out right now?”

“Could be. It’s hard to tell…”

“I suppose I should try to get back in. As much as I love being here this close with you all, breathing in your various body odors, no sense standing around waiting for something to happen.” Infamy sat cross-legged on the rough-hewn floor and closed their eyes.

To the shock of all, Wraith suddenly lunged across her prison, reached through the bars and grabbed Infamy by their foot. They struggled helplessly as she lifted them completely off the floor before violently slamming them to the ground as if she were cracking a whip.

Hancock and Danse leapt to an attempted rescue; each grabbing ahold of one of her arms. She laughed manically as they struggled. Jack, Deegan and Deacon joined in as well while MacCready ran up the stairs for the syringer.  

“Emogene! It’s your brother. Please stop.” Jack pleaded with his sister, “If that’s you, then talk to me! Tell me how I can help you. What do you want?!”

She let go of the unconscious glowing one and shook herself free. When she spoke it was still Wraith’s voice, but the tone and enunciation were just different enough, it was if someone was doing an impression of her, “What do I want? I want it all, you simpleton!” She spread Wraith’s arms and spun in a circle, “I want power and love and to indulge in their delights for all time.” She came to a stop and leveled a murderous gaze at her brother, “I want the artifact. All of it. You will tell me where the rest of my crown is or I will burn Wraith from her mind and leave you all with her broken husk.”

“It won’t make a difference either way, you hag. You’ll still try and kill us all; even if we give you what you want.” MacCready leveled the rifle at her but didn’t pull the trigger.

“O’er my dead body.”

“That’s the idea, Hancock.” She smiled at him evilly, “Though in your case, I’ll be making an exception. I will see you dance for me, just like you did for Wraith.”  

“I don’t know you, sister. I’m thinkin’ I don’t want to. And I don’t think you thought this through.” He spread his arms and gestured to the group, “Ain’t a one of us who knows where your dime-store crown is.” He leveled a finger at her, “There’s only one person on this entire planet who knows, and you’re squatting in her brain!” He shook his finger back and forth, “I would think that you’d play this a little nicer; you get more with sugar than salt.”

She yawned, “Ugh, what a bore. I forgot how much you like to hear yourself talk.”

“He’s talking a lot of sense, Emogene.” Valentine stepped over Infamy’s prone form and stood just outside of her reach, “Give this up. There is a chance we could still help you. Curie here is an excellent doc. Not to mention your brother…”

“MY BROTHER?!” She gripped the cage bars and leaned forward to shriek at him, “MY BROTHER HAD ME KILLED!”

“I… no… I…”

“NO!” Deegan wouldn’t let that stand, “Your brother sent Valentine and Wraith to try and help you. I… I shot you, Emogene. I thought you had killed everyone. That you’d become a monster. And the only way I could save the memory of a girl that I’ve known since she was a child…” The ghoul closed his eyes and looked away, unable to continue.

“Oh, poor Edward. Poor sweet fool; I am a monster! And just to prove… what?” She took a step back, her eyes confused “How? How did you find me?!” Confusion turned to fear, “NO! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU BRUTISH, GREEN…”

As suddenly as she had become Radiance, Wraith returned to herself. She shook her head a few times before leaning into the bars, “I could really use an aspirin.”

Deacon stepped over Infamy and reached out a hand to touch her, but caught himself and pulled it back, “How much time do you have?”

“Ah, the eternal question.” She was happy to see a few half smiles on her friends’ faces, “I’m not sure. I don’t even know all of what just happened.” She popped her chin at Atom’s Assassin, “They alright?”

Hancock nudged them with a boot and seemed satisfied that their groaning was indicative of good health, “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll mend.” He pushed his tricorn back to clunk foreheads with her, “You sound better, sunshine.”

“She must’ve dropped the barrier completely. How did you manage that?”

“I sicked Strong on her.” MacCready came to give her a kiss, “I hope he eats her or, whatever.”

Curie passed a bottle in-between them, “Excusez-moi, Madame, but please drink this.” She beamed as Wraith drank it down without question, “You see, Monsieur Deacon; it does not taste like frowns!”

“That’s… not exactly what I said.”

Danse made a mental note that Deacon had once again taken a step back so the others would have room. It irritated him but he wasn’t sure why. He waited until Wraith had finished chugging Curie’s health drink before reaching through the bars to give her a bear-hug that was almost crushing. He didn’t trust himself to speak so held her quietly for a few moments while gently patting her back.

Wraith caught sight of Jack and pointed an accusatory finger at him, “You! You made this mess. You had better damn well help me clean it up!”

“I’m not entirely sure…”

“Tell me how to block the artifacts effects!”

“I’m not sure…”

“How about a goddamn tinfoil hat?!”

“Block nothin’,” Hancock was holding one of Wraith’s hands, “destroy is more my thinkin’, you feel me?”

“Unfortunately, that is quite impossible. The artifact is simply too powerful; it cannot be destroyed by any means…”

“Clearly, it ain’t.”

Valentine nodded and gestured to Wraith, “I was wondering about that too. You mentioned that it was indestructible, but maybe it only makes you think that it is. It’s proven to be vulnerable against an AMR, at any rate.”

“It’s sentient, then?” Danse was making a face.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then, let’s go get it, strap it to a mini nuke and call it a day.” MacCready turned to Wraith, “So?”

“So what?”

He blinked a few times, her confusion having confused him, “So, uh. Where’s it at?”

She released Hancock’s hand and folded her arms, “Nope!” She started to laugh and shook her head, “Ha ha. You almost had me, Radiance.” She took a few steps back away from her friends and shook her finger at the ceiling, “There’s no way I’m telling you where it is so you can just sit and spin.”

“She thinks she’s… that we’re…”

“Not real.” Hancock was crushingly disappointed.

“But of course we are real. Why should this not be so?”

Once again Wraith’s eyes glazed over and she growled lowly. There was a collective groan and Curie began to softly cry. Danse held her and whispered soft words of encouragement into her ear.

MacCready clenched and unclenched his fists, “She went someplace by herself.” He seemed to be speaking to the ceiling, “No, that’s not right. She took Dogmeat!” He turned to Valentine, “Wraith went off someplace, just her and Dogmeat, right after you got hurt. That must’ve been when she ditched the alien thingy!”

“So the dog knows? Maybe. Does that help us?”

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by someone yelling through the Radio Freedom speakers. The group trouped up the stairs to hear better, leaving Infamy in the tender care of the concrete floor.

“I’m not sure if you heard me; this is Mama Murphy. Noah, dear, I know how these work. Probably better then you, sweetheart, so stop pushing buttons. Hello, kids? Is anyone at home?”

Hancock picked up the receiver, “Murphy? What’s happening?”

“Hancock, I’ve seen the way to help Wraith.”

.....

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my masterlink post tagged under Wraith in the Ruins (also my pinned post). As always, if you have any questions/concerns/comments please drop by and send an ask. Anon too. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #fallout companions #john hancock #hancock #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #fallout fanfiction #deacon #danse #maccready #fallout curie #fallout strong #nick valentine

[madhyanas]

I pronounce it as Yin hhahahah but also um 👉🏼👈🏼 are u going to share your poly fic with the class

i feel inordinately validated w getting an anon ask (also sorry this took so long wow i’m a hoe)

alright see anon i have a love for poly reader fics there’s a whole oberyn x reader x ellaria thing i want to talk about too asjdhgfsjhdgf 

@pettyprocrastination and @concussed-to-pieces really beat the shit out of me with their writing. in a really good way like i adore their poly content. also @wickedlyemma is simultaneously the best and the worst because her tua fics are what got me in this hellhole to begin with mwah

but the one i mentioned on the post you’re talkin about is a diego x fem!reader x lila fic for the umbrella academy. man it lives in my mind rent FREE. holy fuck. ok listen right just humour me for a sec.

this is about 1k lmao it really got away from me

not really what you’d call Good Writing but it’s a blurb that’s vaguely coherent please enjoy

(spoilers for s2)

s2 is where the gang finally find out they’re not the only ones w abilities, right? like they don’t know about the whole ‘43′ but they have an inkling. so: an au where lila STAYS, and after all that shit w the commission, the family gets back to the present and the next hyperfixation is to try and find these other super-powered people. (none of that sparrow academy shit alright - ben’s still hangin around - let me have my self-indulgent au where these kids catch a fuckin break)

———

It’s been a few months. The family takes in Lila as one of their own, but it’s stilted. Like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong space, made to mesh and fit in an image it doesn’t belong to. Everyone’s got their own shit to deal with after the time jump and very little time to make the effort to trust her. Five doesn’t even bother, and Luther’s inclined to agree with him. But that’s okay. They’re like her, in that they’re not normal. They’re all so laughably not normal. It’s so funny she cries. 

But she has Diego. Which is all Lila really cares about at the end of the day. They’re working through things. Things she put him through. Things he needs to let go. Things they need to talk about. Little by little, they make it work. No more secrets, not with each other. They love each other too much for all that pain, all over again.

But that’s family politics and emotional healing aight back to the romance. Listen ok maybe Five does his freaky investigation shit, maybe he digs up whatever records he can find of unnatural births on October 1st, 1989. Maybe he finds one of these unnatural kids and tracks em down to a flower store downtown - closer than any of them could’ve imagined, practically in the Hargreeves’ backyard. The owner is kind, pleasant. Boring, in Five’s words. You don’t seem anything out of the ordinary.

But even with a modest little greenhouse out back, you’re still in the middle of the city. With smoke, fumes, pollution. How are the leaves that healthy? How are the flowers that vibrant? How is it, that in your shop, no plant ever really seems to die? The flourishing life your shop fosters is beautiful, but uncanny. 

And yeah, sick of being treated like a knife in the back waiting to happen, maybe Lila volunteers for recon. To get away for a while. Some part of her is desperate for a mark, itching to get back to what she’s good at. Especially since the last one went... awry. 

Since they won’t trust her to go it solo, Diego gets dragged along as a handler supervisor. Perhaps because he’s the only one they think she won’t harm. Idiots. She’d never, not her boy. Not after the Kennedy clusterfuck. So Diego goes along, and to her surprise he’s actually looking forward to it. He knows the urge to stick to a lead like your life depends on it. He’s been that person before. God, he still is.

A honeymoon, she croons in his ear, and he snorts. His hand sliding into hers brings a grin to her lips and a warmth to her cheeks.

Out of all of them, Lila’s the least recognisable. She’s learnt how to blend in, how to appear innocuous. How not to appear at all. So she slides into the florist’s with ease, just another customer. And maybe the little gardener is cute. You smile at Lila like she couldn’t do anything wrong. You see her as a person, rather than a ticking time bomb. Your face falls meekly as Lila tells you she’s buying flowers for her boyfriend. You look so pretty when you’re flustered, scarcely breathing as Lila traces the smear of soil on your cheek, tucks that errant lock behind your ear. Oh, if only you knew.

Debriefing takes longer and longer as the days go on. Lila tells Diego with giddy excitement how you hum while watering the succulents, smile at the blooming buds like you’re proud of them. How you listen to Lila like she’s the only thing that matters and how your laugh sounds like the first break of spring. And Diego might take some convincing, but he can’t help but feel somewhat enamoured with the gardener. The idea of you, at least.

Falling for your mark. It’s so cliché.

Even so, Lila gets to know you. So does Diego, living vicariously through surreptitious surveillance and Lila’s own love-struck recounts. 

Maybe they break protocol a little. Lila takes you out for coffee, learns your order. Learns that the care you attend to your plants with is applied to just about everything in your life. Including her. Maybe Diego begins to join you, discovering that all the hiding and sneaking around was pointless because the name ‘Diego’ doesn’t mean anything sinister to you. ‘Hargreeves’, though, they don’t mention. Not right now. You’re kind, not stupid, and if you do have the abilities they suspect, then any mention of the mythic family will send you running for the hills.

While Lila’s in the bathroom, Diego throws a light jab. Just to test the waters. Maybe you counter with something quick and cutting, raising a brow. And oh, how his heart flutters once he finds out you have thorns. Diego falls quicker than he realises, your sweet half-smile taking hold of his heart just like Lila’s sharp grin did, way back in ‘63. He decides, then and there, that Five doesn’t need to know about this. None of the others do.

Maybe they break protocol a lot, and show up at the flower shop one day, asking you to sit down. No more secrets, they remember. Not between them, and now, not with you. They tell you a story of cruel parents, superpowers and lonely children. Of death and rage and destruction. Of the apocalypse, which never happened yet apparently did, and how you died, a speck amongst billions. Of falling down a rabbit hole to the 60′s, and falling all the way back again. They tell you who they are, who they think you are, and why they showed up in the first place.

Five definitely doesn’t need to know about this.

It’s... a lot. You need time to process, and they understand. They don’t like it, but Diego’s not Sir Reginald and Lila’s not the Handler. So they leave you be, thinking that’s that. Their florist, yet another mistake made by The Umbrella Academy, left in the dust. You feel confused and betrayed and heartbroken for a long while. Radio silence.

Until things get better. 

You show up at their apartment one evening, weeks later, holding a potted un-sprouted bulb, panting at the doorstep like you ran all the way there. They let you in without a word. You set the flowerpot on the table and god, you talk more than they’ve ever heard from you in one sitting. It’s rambling, not all that eloquent. But they understand what you’re saying, eyes softening at your misguided panic.

And then — shyly, as if they could ever deny you anything — you ask if they want to see. (It takes Diego’s elbow in her side to get Lila’s mind out of the gutter.) You dip your fingers into the soil, frowning gently in concentration. There’s a familiar pins-and-needles sensation in your fingertips, flowing through your nerves and into the moist earth. Absently, you worry if it’ll even work. These two have a tendency to throw you off guard.

But lo and behold, the dormant bulb unfurls before their eyes in a matter of seconds, springing forth a fresh green shoot, and a moment later, a starburst of golden petals. 

A daffodil, bobbing lightly on their coffee table.

———

ugh yeah lmao this got long but that’s the fic idea, anon. thanks for askin :)

and NO the super-powered kids aren’t related - in my mind the hargreeves’ were adopted/raised together and are therefore siblings and THAT’S why they shouldn’t date each other - but diego, lila and reader have no familial connection. at all. i’m not here for any pseudo-incest shit in this fic pls and thank u.

aha look at me writing blurbs for tua fics when i have a wholeass! paz fic! published! and u n f i n i s h e d ! alsdhfgalshdfg now i want to do more someone come scream at me about ezra and oberyn and ellaria and paz and boba and din and any other character under the sun

listen y’all i have a lot of IDEAS for various fics and i also have Zero self control - please ask me about them!!!! fuck it man ask me about anything odds are i’ll fuckin write it!!!!!! i am a desperate hoe!!!! i have no self-respect!!!!

#please come talk to me!!! about fics or fandom or anything!!! #don't be shy i'm just super talkative and v non-threatening #yeah #i wanna come up w a cute placeholder name for reader #greenie? some flower name? #who knows #also uh #daffodils signify new beginnings #and awareness #and forgiveness #👀 #look at me relearning flower meanings n shit for fics i feel Knowledgable #i am a Scholar #ask #anon #anon ask #i'm tagging for clout don't look at me #i too am ashamed #the umbrella academy #tua #diego hargreeves #number two #lila pitts #diego x reader x lila #diego hargreeves x reader x lila pitts #diego x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #lila x reader #lila pitts x reader #poly

[calpalirwin]

Running Back to You

Summary: Post-tour life takes its toll

A/N: Wanted to angst this series up a bit so grab the tissues. 

Word Count: 3.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

~Ashton’s POV~

“Oh!” Vanessa’s hand slapped down on the table as her eyes lit up. “I’m gonna make cookies!”

“That sounds great, baby,” I smiled at her. I had flown in the night before and we were figuring out how to spend the day before taking the kids to dinner with Finn for their weekly tradeoff. While cookies sounded amazing, I was selfishly looking forward to our childless evening later. Because even though I had given her a pretty good idea of how much I had missed her when she visited me on tour, I wanted to make the concept crystal clear, leaving no room for even the slightest trickle of doubt.

She quickly got up from the table, a giant grin on her face. I watched her for a moment, mesmerized by the woman and her ability to make any room she was in feel so alive and upbeat. “What?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Nothing,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Just glad to be home.”

There was a lapse of silence as she busied herself with pulling out everything she needed to make cookies, broken by Mason piping up, “Momma?”

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“Momma.” He pointed at the ingredients gathered about the kitchen island counter.

“You wanna help me make cookies?”

“Momma!”

She crouched down to grab him and swing him up on the counter besides everything. “Love?” she asked me. “Can you go check on Bailey, and bring me the baby monitor? I forgot to bring it with me after I set her down for her nap.”

I drummed my fingers against the table as I stood up. “Sure thing. I’m gonna go deal with the garden after. You did remember to water it, yeah?” I teased.

“Yes, because unlike some people, I know how to keep things alive,” she giggled, teasing me back.

“Ouch!” I dramatically clutched at my chest. “Straight for the kill, huh?”

Her laugh was still ringing out as I headed up the staircase towards the nursery. I checked that Bailey was still fast asleep, before grabbing the baby monitor and tiptoeing back out of the room and downstairs. “All good, baby,” I reported, kissing her cheek that already had streaks of flour on it. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

~Vanessa’s POV~

I pulled the cookies out of the oven, setting them down to cool. “Momma!” Mason pointed excitedly at them.

“Not right now, Mase. They’re for after lunch,” I told him. By then they would have cooled down enough to eat.

“Momma,” he pouted.

“Pout all you want, the answer is still the same.’”

His feet kicked against the counter. “Momma!”

I crouched down a little to be eye level with him. “I know you want them. But just because you ask, does not mean you automatically get. I’m not telling you that you can’t have one. I’m saying that you can’t have one right this second. I need you to be patient, okay? Cookie later.”

He responded with an ear-splitting scream, flapping his arms at his sides. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lights on the baby monitor go off. Great…

I set Mason down on the kitchen floor, and when I was sure he would just keep screaming and flapping rather than other more destructive stimming, I dashed upstairs to get Bailey. 

~Ashton’s POV~

I heard the screaming, so I rocked back on my heels, dusting my hands against my jeans. With Mason, it was hard to tell the difference between happy and mad screeching, so I got up to make my way inside the house just in case Vanessa needed back up.

A seemingly endless scream was still working its way out of Mason from where he was sitting on the kitchen floor, Vanessa nowhere in sight. I glanced at the counter, noticing the lights of the baby monitor. So Bailey had woken up and Vanessa had run off to deal with that leaving Mason cookie-less for longer than he would have liked. The scream cut off, the moment his face zeroed in on me. “Papa,” was the hoarse hiccup, as he pointed up at the cookies.

“Did Momma not have time to grab you a cookie before Bailey woke up?” I asked, picking him up off the ground and rubbing his back.

“Papa,” he nodded with a sniff.

“Okay, let’s get you a cookie.” I grabbed one, breaking it in half and blowing on it. “Careful, it’s still a little hot,” I warned, holding out one half for him to take a bite of.

He seemed to understand because instead of taking it into his own hand, he opened his mouth so I could hold it while he took a bite. A content smile broke out across his face as the soft cookie broke off in his mouth and the warm chocolate melted further on his tongue.

“What the actual fuck?” Vanessa’s voice snapped behind us and I whirled to find her with Bailey on her hip and fire in her eyes. Uh-oh…

~Vanessa’s POV~

I wasn’t sure why the sight of Mason munching on a cookie in Ashton’s arms made me as angry as it did. It wasn’t like Ashton had been inside to hear me tell Mason that he couldn’t have a cookie until after lunch. And it wasn’t like Mason could, or would, explain to his papa that I had said he needed to wait. He was three. He saw his chance, and he took it. But I was furious all the same. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Ashton asked me, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I told him he needed to wait until after lunch…”

“Shit, baby, I didn’t know. I’m sorry…” Ashton apologized. 

That should have been the end of it. But for some reason his admittance of the obvious only further ticked me off. Why? Why was I so mad about my son eating a cookie? Why was this the hill I was going to stake my claim, and die on today? Why did I feel so out of control? When did this start? Think, Nessa, think!

The feeling had started months ago when I had woken up in the empty house for the first time. Sure, I had my own dresser, and I had things hung up across from Ashton’s in the closet. But it was his closet. Sure, my children had their rooms, but it was their rooms in “Papa’s house.” While I certainly lived there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still far more Ashton’s home than our home.

And now, watching Mason happily take another bite from half a cookie in Ashton’s hand, made that feeling increase tenfold. Like it didn’t matter what I had told Mason because Ashton could override it because it was his house. And the worst part was that I only had myself to blame because I had been the one who rushed things. Sure, Ashton had played his role of charming outsider who saw me as a woman rather than a mess, and he had played it very well. But it had ultimately been me who hadn’t firmly set those boundaries because it felt so good to feel wanted as a partner. Only I wasn’t a partner anymore, I was just coexisting in the same place. And damn it, if this feeling didn’t cut me deeper than it had the first time when this had happened with Finn.

But that’s not what’s happening, I told myself. Ash isn’t undermining you. He didn’t know. He apologized.

This time it’s an accident. Next time it’s on purpose…

“If you didn’t know, why didn’t you check with me first?” I could hear the shake in my voice as I fought to keep it controlled. I hated the words and the bitter taste they left in my mouth, but I couldn’t stop them from rolling off my lips.

“You’re right,” Ashton admitted, dropping the uneaten quarter of a cookie down next to the other half. “You made them, so I should have checked with you first. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t want his apology. Especially not when he used the same tone I did when I had to calm down Mason. I wanted… fuck, what did I want? I wanted to feel like I was in control of my life, not bouncing from being dependent on Finn to being dependent on Ashton. I wanted to not feel so fuckin’ lost in who I was compared to who I used to be, and who I wanted to be. I wanted to know who it was I wanted to be.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” His chuckle was soft and nervous as he closed the distance between us and his thumb brushed away the tears on my cheeks I hadn’t noticed were there. “Can you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours cuz I’m a little lost here…”

“You’re a little lost?” My words were a harsh scoff.

His hand fell and his jaw twitched in irritation. “Look, I’ve apologized three times now for him eating a quarter of a cookie before you said he could. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” I hissed, taking a step back.

“Then why are you so mad? What am I not seeing here? Feel free to clue me in at any time…”

I wanted to curse and scream everything I was feeling so he would know how much I was hurting inside. But I couldn’t because it would upset Bailey and Mason. “Can I have my son, please?” I asked instead.

His face fell at where my emphasis was. “Yeah.” Ashton set Mason down on his feet. “Go to your momma, Mase…” He masked his hurt in his own emphasis. My lack of ability to express myself had turned into a fight of showcasing my control. That this was my life he was living in, not me living in his like it appeared. The chance for equal ground lost the moment I opened my mouth.

I wanted to backpedal. My logic was screaming at me to stop, but the irrational part had its hand clamped over logic’s mouth, muffling it. “Where are you going?” Ashton followed me as I grabbed Mason’s hand and walked us out of the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Finally some fuckin’ honesty.

“Are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Baby…” a broken plea. The one I couldn’t make for myself. 

I dropped Mason’s hand momentarily to swing the diaper bag up onto my shoulder before grabbing his hand again. “I don’t know who I am, Ashton,” I answered back, just as broken.

~Ashton’s POV~

A motherfuckin’ cookie… a single fuckin’ cookie had sent my girlfriend running out of the house going off about how she didn’t know who she was. What the actual fuck?

I sat down on the couch, wiping a hand down my face, and trying to figure out just what the hell had happened. My head was reeling from how in a matter of a half hour we had gone from baking cookies to breaking up. Had we broken up? Had I just been dumped?! Was I supposed to go after her? Or was I supposed to give her space? Fuck, I was gonna be sick…

~Vanessa’s POV~

“I thought Ash was home.” Finn commented as he helped Mason into his booster seat while I put Bailey in the high chair.

“He is.”

“Jet lag?”

I shook my head. I didn’t have it in me to explain to Finn what was going on in my head anymore than I had had it in me to explain it to Ashton this morning. I was exhausted from my mind running itself in circles. I just wanted to rest but nowhere felt like home.

“Shit… sleeping in the guest room bad, or you’re getting a hotel bad?”

I held up two fingers. How could I go back, and face Ashton after what I’d done? I had given him no indication that anything was wrong, and then I had stormed out giving no indication that I would be back. And after the third call, I had turned my phone off. What was I supposed to do? Walk back in, and say sorry?

“Jesus, Ness… what happened?”

“I don’t know who I am, or where I belong…” I whispered, afraid if I spoke any louder it would somehow make everything more real than it already was.

“Oh, Ness…”

~Ashton’s POV~

I hated the way my heart leapt in my throat at the knock on my door. I hated that I had been pacing the house for hours on end. I hated that every phone call went straight to voicemail. I hated that I had never felt more helpless in my life. How could I fix what had happened between Vanessa and me if I had no idea what had gone wrong in the first place? Or what if I was a bigger idiot than I thought for not seeing the signs that something had been wrong?

I wrenched the door open, my heart racing, and every bit of me praying it was her on the other side. So seeing Finn definitely made me do a double-take. “Hey, mate,” I mumbled, stepping aside to let him in. “She’s not here.”

“Yeah, I know. I came here to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Look, I didn’t get too much out of her, but whatever this is, you gotta fix it. Like the only times I’ve ever seen her this far gone has been when she’s dealt with her family, and I’ve legit told her I wasn’t in love with her anymore at one point so…”

“Fuck…” I collapsed on the couch. Tears pricked in the corners of my eyes. She hadn’t even been this torn up when her and Finn broke up? Fuck… “I dunno what I did… one second we were fine, and the next she was calling Mase hers. And…”

“And she never does that,” Finn nodded, sitting down next to me. “She never pulls the biology card because it doesn’t matter. You’ve accepted Mason as your own, and you’ve been there for Bailey since day one just like we have. You’re Papa, and there’s nothing else to it.”

“But today she did… today she said “my son” in regards to Mase. Over a fuckin’ cookie…”

Finn stifled a laugh. “Sorry, what? A cookie? She’s sleeping at a hotel over a cookie?”

“She’s at a hotel? Which one?”

“I’ll tell you after you tell me what’s going on.”

“I dunno what’s going on! That’s the whole fuckin’ problem, mate!”

Finn held up a hand. “Just tell me your side of things.”

So I told Finn about how we had gone from cookies to “I don’t know who I am.” “Like I know she’s not really mad about the cookie. I know there’s some bigger problem. And I tried to get her to talk to me but she just clammed up and left. And I’ve been sitting here all day wondering if we just had a fight, or if I legit lost her, and I have zero fuckin’ answers.”

“I’m just as in the dark as you are. But, when you were on tour, she did mention feeling like she had lost part of herself. That she didn’t know who she was outside of the kids, you, and me. And that was like right after you left. So it’s probably been eating at her for a while, and the cookie debacle was just her breaking point. Like Ness is very good at putting on a front. She’s good at acting unbothered a lot of the time. She was good at doing that even before we had Mason, which is part of what makes me feel so fuckin’ inadequate in dealing with him compared to her because she makes swallowing her personal feelings so easy. But between the way she grew up, and then everything we’ve been through with Mason… like I said, I’m just in the dark as you are. But I think there’s been a voice that’s been telling her she’s not in control of her own life. And she had her made up list of reasons that proved it. And then you unconsciously reinforced those reasons when she found you giving Mason the cookie she said he couldn’t have. And she finally listened because that’s a lot to deal with just all in your head.”

“Anybody tell you you should be a therapist?” I deadpanned, my heart breaking in my chest for her. It made perfect sense everything Finn had said. She had gone from living with her parents and dealing with her sister constantly one-upping her as some sort of twisted game Vanessa never wanted any part of, to living with Finn and raising Mason, to living with me and raising both Mason and Bailey. She never had a chance to really figure out if she was doing anything on her own; to discover if she was capable of doing anything on her own. And I’d unknowingly played right into it by accidentally undermining her parenting with Mason. I had managed to do the one thing I never wanted to do to her by doing the only thing I wanted to do to her: I had hurt her by loving her.

Finn chuckled softly, pushing up onto his feet. “Good thing I work in family counseling then. Anyway, she’s at the Hilton downtown.”

“Thanks,” I said, following him towards the door and grabbing my keys off the hook. “Hey Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you helping me? I mean… I don’t want to be that guy, but you know her so well, and you guys have history, and whatnot. Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me to fuck up?”

Finn laughed, shaking his head. “Because you’re Papa Ash. You’d have to fuck up pretty bad for me to root in favor my kids losing a parent. And this? A fight where neither of you fucked up because she lost to her head? Yeah, not on the list.”

~Vanessa’s POV~

I clicked my phone to light up the screen for the millionth time. Nothing. Absolute silence since it buzzed out the notification of 27 missed calls after I turned it back on. Not text messages. No voicemails. No other notifications. Just 27 missed calls from Ashton.

I hated this hotel room. As pretty as it was, the freedom I thought it would bring was suffocating. Nothing in here was familiar. Not the set up, not the views, and definitely not the smells. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t know how. As much as I had been hurting, Ashton hadn’t deserved for me to bring him down to my level of hurt. He had tried to talk to me like an adult, and like a child I had pushed him away and slammed the door.

But if I stayed in this room for one second longer, the whole world was going to learn where Mason got his lungs from. Maybe I could just go to the lobby. Take things from there. Little tasks to make the bigger one seem less daunting.

Somehow I made it down to the lobby, which was weird because I didn’t remember stepping off the elevator, much less actually leaving the room. “Now just get to the car. The car. The car.” I repeated to myself as I speed-walked across the fancy tiled floor. The faster I moved, the less time I would have to overthink what I was doing. Problem was, the faster I moved meant the less I paid attention to anything besides tripping over my own two feet, meaning I definitely tripped over the black pair of boots that raced into my path, sending me colliding into the solid chest of their owner. “Shit! I’m so-” I started before the rest of my senses kicked in. I knew the strength of the arms that instinctively wrapped around me so I wouldn’t fall back; the muscles that belonged to the solid chest; and the smell of sunshine that clung to the wearer of the black boots that had almost knocked me over for the second time in my life. “Sorry,” I breathed, pulling back. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you back home. Where were you going?”

“I was coming home.”

“Oh, thank God!” Ashton laughed in relief. 

I laughed with him, stretching upwards to throw my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry,” I cried into his shirt, finally finding the comfort I’d been looking for all day. “I’m so sorry!”

“Shh…” he shushed, holding me tight to him. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” One large hand was in my hair, cradling my head into his chest while the other rubbed at my back.

“I’m sorry!” I continued to cry anyway. “I got overwhelmed, and I didn’t know how to stop,  and…”

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Right at me.” He pressed his forehead into mine, and I slowly raised my gaze to meet his hazel one that was as soft as his voice. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

I choked on my next sob as it turned into a laugh at his terrible ass joke. “That’s not funny,” I laughed anyway.

His body shook with his own laughter. “It’s a little funny.”

I nuzzled my nose against his. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry too. You’re fuckin’ amazing in everything you do, and I don’t ever want you to doubt that. And I’m so fuckin’ sorry if there was anything I ever did that made you doubt yourself.” Each sentence was punctuated with a kiss. First my forehead, then either of my cheeks, and finally my lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Ash?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can we go home now?”

“Is the room already paid for?”

“Yeah…”

His fingers trailed down my back before going up the front of my shirt. “Seems a bit of a waste, doesn’t it?” he asked, his breath hot upon my neck where he lips traveled next.

“A-Ash?” I breathed, feeling my body go lax in his hold.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

__

Tag List

@frontmanash​​ @goeatsomelife​​ @flameraine​​ @creator-appreciator​​ @cxddlyash​​ @1-irwin-94​​ @sparkling-calm​​ @tea4sykes​​ @youngblood199456​​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​​ @gosh-im-short​​ @aquarius-hood1996​​ @talkfastromance4​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @philthepegacorn​​ @boomerash​​ @teenwolfss24​​ @karajaynetoday​ @myfavfanficsever​ @stormrider505​ @cashtonisruiningmylife​

#running back to you #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton&vanessa #ash&mase #mase&bai #and THIS is why we stan finn. he is good egg and will have his own story very soon #thanks terra for all the help! #5sos #galcal irwin

[mrmallard]

Top 5 Favorite Songs of The Year

This is part 1 of a 2 part list. This list will cover 5 songs from any time period that made my year. The next list will cover songs from 2020.

I excluded songs from my Top 10 Lyrics post specifically so I could speak about them in this list. This was a good year to get into music, and I found a crop of songs that made me really frigging happy.

5: Power of Two - Indigo Girls

I found three really good country-sounding songs about relationships this year. There was She Don't Like Roses by Christina Kane, which is a name that's as on-the-nose as Can I Borrow A Feeling - the way that the listener's time is described with this woman is really nice. The second one is Heart's Content by Brandi Carlile, which is a rundown of a relationship's anxieties punctuated by a celebration of that relationship enduring those anxieties. The third one is my #5 pick - Power of Two.

I didn't pick She Don't Like Roses because I heard Christina Kane pandering to a pro-Bush crowd in a live version of the song. It's still a great song, but hearing the conservative platitudes coming out of her mouth really bothered me and it affects how I hear the song. Heart's Content, on the other hand, was a strong runner-up - I'm assured that Brandi Carlile isn't a Trumper, for one, and Heart's Content is one of the songs on her pre-Grammy albums that really plays to my sensibilities. It missed out because another one of her songs affected me more, which left this spot open for the Indigo Girls.

Power of Two wins out because of the calm, casual affirmation that things are okay, and that they're going to continue to be okay, even through the hardships. It's about a relationship, going through things that happen from day to day, and each chorus is an affirmation that they're fine, that they love each other and are looking out for each other.

It's just a nice sentiment to listen to from time to time, and I don't know why more people don't go all in on the earnest, happy relationship train from time to time. One of my favorite albums of the 2010's is a concept album about the singer's messy divorce, I understand the appeal of drama and emotional pain in music - but for the scores of breakup songs and tales of emotional devastation, there needs to be something to balance it all out. Power of Two, to me, is a song that acts as a balance to those songs.

Most of All is a song that made me cry this year, because it made me think of my parents dying. More specifically, it reminded me that no-one lives forever, and there will come a day where my mum and dad both die and I'll have this empty feeling for the rest of my life like "man, I haven't seen my dad in a while. Something I did just reminded me of him, and now I miss him because I'll never see him again."

4: Most of All - Brandi Carlile

This is notable because I find it hard to cry. But one night, after drinking copious amounts of alcohol, I listened to this song and I just fuckin started bawling. It's fucked up, confronting your parent's mortality. I don't usually cry the way this song made me cry, but I did. And I thought it was worth mentioning.

Regardless of all that, this song makes me miss my dad in a general sense. And it makes a strong point to be more affectionate, because the love you give away is returned to you in kind. The love you don't get back is replenished eventually, so you're not really losing anything by putting your feelings out there.

It's a very bittersweet song. I really like it.

Orpheus wins out over another Sara Bareilles song, 1000 Times, by virtue of me talking about it in my Top 10 Lyrics post. It still bears mentioning - 1000 Times is a great song about yearning for someone you know you'll never be able to be with. It's a great yearning ballad.

3: Orpheus by Sara Bareilles

Orpheus, on the other hand, feels like it's about a relationship being reciprocated. It's low and cosy, like a heavy blanket on a cold night - the instruments all feel very intimate, the chorus is croony and the verses are just very grand and sweeping at times. It feels like an idealized relationship - being comfortable in someone's company and recharging their batteries because you love them, making big, sweeping declarations of devotion, stuff like that.

Again, like #5, it's just a nice relationship song. It's an absolute highlight off of Amidst the Chaos, along with songs like If I Can't Have You (not a cover of the disco song) and Miss Simone. Very wholesome.

2: Forget about Georgia - Lukas Nelson

This song came out of nowhere and caved my face in with a cinderblock. I'm a fuckin boomer when it comes to slang, but would it be appropriate to say it snatched my wig? Because I felt completely exposed after the first time I heard this song.

It's another relationship song - I've got love on the mind, give me a break. Definitely more of a breakup song, as the titular Georgia is the lead singer's ex, and he's in a situation where he can't escape her name for long enough to get over the break up. Namely, because he's Willie Nelson's son, and every night he performs with his dad, they play the song Georgia On My Mind.

Yes, this song is based on true events - which is fantastic on its own merits.

I can relate to the moment you realise you like someone, and you know just how much it's going to make you hurt. And the picture he paints in the entire second verse just hurts to think about. Honestly, it's disgusting how emotionally resonant this song is to me.

This song is the emotional equivalent to getting punched in the face and pushed down a hill, at least for me. Good song.

This song sums up the Weepies experience to me. Tight lyricism, effective instrumentation, and an earnest atmosphere. It's also under 3 minutes, which is kinda ridiculous for a song that makes me feel this much.

1: Somebody Loved - The Weepies

It's a simple concept - rain turns the sand into mud, wind turns the trees into bone. As much of a fact as those statements are, you turn me into somebody loved.

Again - it's just nice to hear something so sweet in a song, and it's so earnest as well. Especially when the song bridges into the fourth verse with an assertion that "one day, when we're old and worn," they'll reflect on the life they've lived with the person they love

I could sit here and recommend any number of songs by the Weepies. The first song of theirs I liked was Gotta Have You, which is such a weird, refreshing surprise in how it sounds for a song of its type. I could recommend They're In Love, Where Am I - another short, extremely effective song in the vein of this one about heartbreak. I can recommend Slow Pony Home, which is a very stripped back account of a girl meeting someone in real life who she met online, and reflecting on her relationship with herself and continuing relationship with them two years later. There are so many gorgeous, earnest songs from this band consisting of a married couple, and I'd love to just throw them all at you all at once.

Somebody Loved is a Weepies song boiled down to its bare essentials. And it's very sweet. I think it sums up the year I've spent with this band, and considering how big of a part this band played in my year, I think it deserves my #1 spot.

#Brandi carlile #indigo girls #lukas nelson #sara Bareilles #the weepies #top 10 #this will actually be the last post I make about the weepies this year #i promise

[annavolovodov]

ya girl saw the downton movie and has some Thoughts

if you followed me at all from 2011-2015 then you'll know i am firmly Team Downstairs and did not want this movie to happen, just so you all know what position i'm coming from here.

everything below is gonna be spoilery af. if you haven't seen it yet and want info just hmu. if you have seen it and want to talk about it please message me bc i’m always up for chatting about Downton.

okay but the title sequence with the music building and cresting as we come up over the hills and get our first shot of downton... goosebumps. tbh i don't know shit about film making but i can't fault the technical aspects (costumes, music, cinematography). the impact of the increased budget was felt from the very first second.

for the plot i’m gonna split things by character to make it easier. i’ll probably go to see it again and maybe after that i’ll have some deeper Thoughts but i missed being able to liveblog during the film so enjoy my rambling first reactions.

upstairs peeps

everything with violet was iconic. i'm glad that they didn't neglect her relationship with isobel and ofc maggie and imelda played fantastically off each other. pretty much everyone has already highlighted the scene with violet and mary at the end and it tied things up perfectly between them. violet and mary are so so similar and violet has been pushing for her to inherit since before S1. the movie showed us that mary is basically running the estate even if she doesn't get the the title and i can totally see why violet is confident in the future of downton now. that being said, i don't think violet will actually die. maggie has been talking about leaving since 2012 and fellowes obviously put this in as a get-out clause for her should she want to go, but i reckon they’ll convince her to do more. if carson's palsy can be mysteriously cured, so can violet's conveniently vague illness.

i already knew that robert and cora weren't gonna be in it much, but i wish we could've seen cora finding out what was happening with edith and helping her out. it wouldn't surprise me if there was a deleted scene there cause that whole storyline felt a little disjointed. i completely forgot that cora knew about the pregnancy and was so confused at how the queen foud out about it all. i don't think we got anything in robert and cora's bedroom, or anything with cora/baxter and robert/bates, which would've also been very welcome but i guess they can only fit in so much.

onto mary: this may be an unpopular opinion but god i miss her long hair. yeah i know it wasn't the style of the time but her wig in this one was tragic and they need to fix it. i absolutely love that t*lbot didn't exist for a solid 95% of this movie and mary got her rightful place ruling downton. i wouldn't say i’m the biggest mary fan but her arc felt like one of the more satisfying ones of the movie imo.

as someone who has been firmly #teamedith from day one i am delighted to see my girl happy and successful. literally all her outfits were A+ and not to be gay on main but those scenes of her in her nightclothes getting ready for bed gave me my rights. i’m sad that she seems like she's either given up her magazine or has less of a role in it now based on what they said outside???? she did seem unsatisfied with aspects of her position so hopefully she'll go back to doing some writing and publishing cause that was a good fit for her, and if edith and bertie are “modern” enough to travel without servants surely edith moving away from traditional grand lady duties and back to her magazine that wouldn't be an issue. 

the mention of sybil being gone seven years? yeah. thanks for the pain. tom accidentally saving the monarchy on no less than two occasions is the ultimate "congratulations you played yourself" moment but the fact he thought the army had sent someone to check up on him is the level of republican i'm trying to be on. i'm a bit ehhhh on his relationship with lucy, mainly cause i'd rather the screentime given to the newbies had went to established characters. but like sybil/tom was a wholeass epic romantic slowburn spanning several years through a war and across class divisions n shit and meanwhile lucy/tom have known each other for forty eight hours and had three conversations in a hallway so like obviously that’s just gonna pale in comparison????? like it just is???? i guess i don't hate it but it just was a bit unnecessary and the time coulda been spent on better things.

isobel didn't have all that much to do on her own but i appreciated her scenes with violet and i love that she was the one to figure out that lucy was lady whatever's daughter. penelope wilton's facial expressions during some of the exchanges with violet were great. i see lord merton has also undergone a miraculous recovery from his apparently serious anaemia but he also didn't appear much which was a big win for me!

team downstairs aka the ones i turned up to see

as a downstairs supremacist who has watched the screentime distribution in previous fifty two eps of the show, it’s fair to say i had low expectations going in. i expected a grand total of 10 minutes for the servants combined and i think that's why i was unexpectedly happy with what we got. ideally we would've ditched the subplots involving the personal lives of the royals and all the stuff w imelda staunton and her maid but oh well it could’ve been worse and i'll take any breadcrumbs i can get. anyway i'm eagerly awaiting the team downstairs cut of the film one of yall will hopefully make when the dvd comes out. the only part that was far, FAR too upstairs heavy for me was the last sequence of the film after the royals left and i think we would've benefitted from rounding things off with team downstairs after the ball.

so i guess retirement magically cured the palsy carson had, but i guess after matthew’s miraculous recovery anything can happen at downton when it comes to health. Fellowes is getting a free pass for retconning this one cause i cba with more death/loss. mary going to carson for help and him immediately coming to her aid was very sweet. kinda wish we'd find out what he was up to post-Downton (except for his gardening) tho.

i was expected zero carson/hughes content in this movie and yet !!!! and yet!!!!!! we were somewhat well-fed. like carson (incorrectly) thinking he can control the other servants and mrs hughes' "oh that went well charlie, start as you mean to go on" hdjksjs i love them. and the lil scene in their cottage ugh. also we got more of them using their first names and yeah i guess that makes sense given they've been married for a while now but as i said, i had low expectations.

mrs hughes is still like the best person ever but wbk. her vs. the royal housekeeper = iconic. i kinda felt bad for royal whatsherface in some ways because she clearly didn't know who she was up against THE elsie hughes who has vanquished much scarier foes in her time. the other servants were never gonna win that battle.

the 0.5 seconds of baby bates *chef's kiss* perfection. god i am slightly bitter it was only 0.5 seconds given the fuckin multiseason journey leading up to his birth. tbh we should've ditched everything involving the personal lives of the rando new characters and let baby bates have some of that time but fellowes loves upstairs too much to let that happen. the small interaction was adorable though and i'm glad the mention of his name was subtle enough that we can retcon it cause i truly believe anna and bates would've came up with a more creative choice than that. genuinely i'm so curious about their whole living situation and how they cope with a smol child while working full time but i doubt fellowes even considered that so y’know. what can we do. i enjoyed the breadcrumbs but i wanted more.

i did go into this film with the mindset of "something awful will probably happen to anna or bates," cause that's what usually happens in these things but plot twist!!!! we saw them smile on multiple occassions!!!! what a nice change for us all! i swear every time anna bates smiles an angel gains their wings. her scenes with mary were good and i'm happy their friendship made it into the film. you know what else i was happy to see? the EXTREMELY UNDERRATED brotp between anna and baxter. there was a couple of moments with them standing next to each other or talking to each other and it warmed my heart. like yass two of my fave people are friends. it's a big win for me. 

i'm sure i read something about brendan being involved in another project which meant he couldn't film too much (i'm curious to whether this impacted the lack of baby bates scenes?) and while it's true that bates didn't have a ton of scenes, i didn't feel like he was absent which was good.

thomas had the best storyline imo. i don't blame him for being angry that mary brought in carson and it was actually very iconic of him to go off in the library like that. i found it hilarious that while everyone else was panicking at downton he went off on gay adventures. i really wish we'd gotten this "thomas makes a gay friend then discovers the village's underground gay scene THEN gets a boyfriend" in the show cause that would've been SO MUCH BETTER than some of the other stuff that got stretched out across the last couple series (like the love quadrangle with daisy/ivy/alfred/jimmy). like, imagine thomas’ movie plot as a series-long arc. the impact. i liked the guy that was his maybe-boyfriend and i hope any continuation keeps that relationship going.

mrs p and daisy continue to be the mother-daughter duo of the century. i thought both of them were supposed to be moving to the farm post-S6 but i suppose that would've meant they wouldn't be in the film hence why it didn't come to fruition. i guess they could all move once daisy and andy get married. mrs patmore didn't get a great deal to do but i still feel like i saw her a fair amount. comrade daisy was awesome and is definitely me when i see any monarchy-related stuff. somewhere over the last few seasons she's developed into one of the most interesting characters in downton and we don't talk about that enough. andy trashing the boiler was immature af but at the same time i feel like it completely makes sense for daisy to take that as a compliment. it’s just such a daisy thing to do?????

now, there is one thing i kinda fucked up here. while i went into the film with low expectations for everyone else, i fully expected baxley to be A Thing because how could i not and boy did i come out looking like boo boo the fool. i guess baxter and molesley have continued the tradition of Agonisingly Long Downstairs Slowburns which would be okay if we were still getting one season per year but is quite frankly rude when we're on rationed content like this. the first half of the film i thought it was gonna be revealed that they were together or something but then that scene at the end implied they're dancing around each other and my god is it frustrating. i would give so much to trade tom and lucy's romantic subplot for a baxter/molesley one but once again i know that's an unrealistic dream.

definitely not enough baxter in general but that one shot of her, anna and mrs hughes standing in the same frame was worth the price of my cinema ticket. still love molesley even tho he's a monarchist.

in terms of the overall downstairs stuff, i'm euphoric at seeing all these people interact with each other again. as we all know, found family is the best trope and since the servants are literally the epitome of that every moment focussed on them is like chicken soup for my weary soul. was the revolution against the royal servants realistic? no. was it realistic for the two people who came up with most of the plot to be the ones who went to jail for doing literally nothing wrong and would therefore want to avoid stuff that could get them in trouble with an all-powerful family? also no! however, seeing downstairs all working together for a common goal is content that appeals directly to me and i am thankful.

shoutout to the last scene which is the best way the movie could've ended it for me. use of first names AND walking home together? thank u fellowes.

tldr; team downstairs fan who was strongly anti-movie, went in with low expectations, was pleasantly surprised.  there are a shit ton of things i’d change but i just really loved seeing these characters who all mean so much to me again. obviously the only reason this film happened was for financial reasons rather than a desire to continue the storyline (cause the finale tied things up perfectly imo) but i wish they'd done a two-part miniseries instead to ensure everyone gets some screentime. two ninety minute specials every few years would work much better if everyone wants to keep downton going but i guess that doesn't bring the cash in like a movie does.

#downton abbey #downton abbey the movie #downton spoilers #downton abbey spoilers #downton abbey the movie spoilers #da spoilers #ok that's every spoiler tag i can think of no one has any reason to complain #robert crawley #edith crawley #charles carson #phyllis baxter #mary crawley #joseph molesley #john bates #violet crawley #cora crawley #anna bates #daisy mason #beryl patmore #thomas barrow #elsie hughes #isobel crawley #andy parker #is it just me that found it so weird to hear mary edith and isobel called by their married names? #like nah they are crawleys and they always will be

[hazelnmae]

Lies Travel Faster: Chapter Two

Summary: Sophia Murphy’s life seems to be on the upswing when she takes a job with Birmingham’s notorious Shelby Company Ltd. But when she falls for her boss, CEO and ruthless gangster, Tommy Shelby, she finds herself wrapped up in a tangled web of danger and deceit. After all, lies travel faster than the truth.

Tags: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character; Tommy/Assistant Trope (it’s a hill I’ll die on)

Warnings: angst; smut (in future chapters); violence; language; rape/non-con; death

CHAPTER 2 (read Chapter 1 here)

Each gunshot echoed through the warehouse landing squarely against Alfie’s right temple. He usually let the men on the floor handle the starlings, but their terrible aim was threatening to turn his headache into a full blown migraine if he didn’t step in.

“Oy,” he yelled emerging from his office. “Right, let me at them, then.” He snatched the revolver from the young man closest to him and forced back the hammer, without pulling his eyes away from the man’s frightened expression. Leaning on his cane to steady himself, Alfie took quick aim and hit one of the two birds with his first shot.

“That’s how that’s fucking done, then.” He handed the gun back to his startled employee and motioned for him to continue hunting the remaining bird.

Turning on his heel, he lumbered back toward his office, talking all the while. “What is it they say? If you want something done fuckin’ right, it’s best to do it yourself? That sounds about right, doesn’t it mate? BACK AT IT, THEN,” he called, as he slammed the door behind him.

Ollie awaited him in the office wearing a worried expression and, while this wasn’t a rare occurrence, it did catch Alfie off guard. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture and felt certain that’s what his friend was about to unleash on him. Alfie felt his heart pulse in his temple and pinched his nose in another attempt to stave off the headache. “What is it then, mate? On with it.”

“A message for you, Alfie,” Ollie answered, holding the telegram card out toward his employer.

Alfie took it absentmindedly as he placed his glasses back on his nose. He stroked his beard and looked it over.

LET US DISCUSS YOUR EXPANDING BUSINESS – L. CHANGRETTA

Alfie’s eyes widened and his fingers moved from his beard to scratch at the patch of irritated skin on his cheek. He’d heard the Italians were in England–no doubt in pursuit of their vendetta toward the Shelby family–but he’d hoped to stay out of the conflict.

“Fucking hell, mate –”

It was all he could get out before the gunshots rang through the warehouse again, startling him this time as he jerked violently in response.

________

Sophie’s first few days on the job were ordinary enough. Polly came around daily to check on her, but Sophie was smart and tough and didn’t need much oversight. She had the diary reorganized by the end of her second day and had corrected all of Arthur’s bad math in the books by the end of her third. Though he’d never admit it, Tommy was quickly impressed by her. She’d turned out to be more than just a pretty face and the war-torn story that captured his attention and prompted him to hire her.

After a couple of weeks, Sophie had fully adjusted and it was as if she’d worked there for years. She even moved her expensive electric percolator to the office so she could have fresh, hot coffee instead of tea.

Tommy’s fascination continued to deepen and he found himself seeking her company, faking the need for someone to take dictation or to help him schedule various meetings.

But as he grew increasingly fond of Sophie he also grew increasingly worried about an attack from the Italians. While Alfie worried over the starlings in his warehouse, Tommy worried over the black hand in his desk. It’d been a month since he received it and he’d yet to tell anyone in the family, except for Polly. No news wasn’t always good news, despite how his aunt tried to convince him otherwise. He feared it only meant Changretta was watching them, mounting an indefensible attack. Polly convinced him to keep the rest of the family in the dark until they had confirmation the Italians were near. Tommy agreed, but only after posting triple the usual number of Peaky and Lee boys to protect his family.

Today, his new assistant provided a nice distraction from the stress troubling his mind.

They worked in tandem, Tommy signing falsified purchase forms while Sophie filed them away. He considered how she hadn’t batted an eye at the ‘less than legal’ side of his business, watching her confirm the signatures on each forged document without a second thought for it’s content. She’d seen the wickedness of war. Was that why she was unaffected by the wickedness of his business?

“Did you always know you’d do this? Build an empire?” Sophie’s question was a welcome interruption to his thoughts .  

Tommy chuckled. “No, I can’t say I did.”

“So what did you want to do with your life?”

He thought that over for a moment. It had been a long time since Tommy considered what he truly wanted. He’d been operating on auto-pilot for so long–making the moves he thought he should for the business, for the family. His family didn’t seem to understand that, but Tommy knew everything he did, he did for them.

“I don’t know. Something with horses,” he finally answered. He put down his pen and took up a cigarette, leaning back in his chair to enjoy it. “Do you ride, Ms. Murphy?”

This drew a small smile from her lips. “I grew up riding. Had a beautiful gray.” She re-shuffled he stack of papers. “Her name was Belle.” She continued to file the signed forms, not turning to address him directly as she talked.

“On the farm?” He asked, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Hmmm,” She hummed in reply, placing the next form in its place in the drawer.

He sat in the quiet that followed her response, the paper sliding along the file folders the only sound between them for several minutes.

“I grew up riding, too,” Tommy offered, feeling obliged to share more. “I’ve always been more comfortable around horses than people.”

Sophie had never met anyone who seemed more collected and comfortable around people than Tommy. In the month she’d worked for him, she’d seen him in many tense situations. Unexpected visits from men like Alfie Solomons, closed door meetings with Polly, coppers, politicians, foremen with long lists of demands for their workers, the list went on and on. And in every interaction, Tommy remained calm, stoic even, always completely controlled. He owned the room, regardless of who else was in it.

“You seem plenty comfortable with people to me,” she said. Finally finished with the signed documents, Sophie turned to face him for the first time since their conversation began and leaned against the heavy wooden filing cabinet.

“Do I?” He asked, extinguishing his cigarette and placing his hands on his knees. “Alright, come here,” he said, rising from his desk and stepping around the corner to where she stood.

Sophie did as she was told and closed the distance between them. He took her hand and placed it over his heart, sliding her fingers below his waistcoat so she could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin layers of cotton. The motion pulled her to him even more and it struck Sophie that this was the closest she’d ever stood to Tommy. She could smell his aftershave and could feel his warm breath as it hit the short, loose hairs around her face. She made note of how her eyes fell even with his lips. All this time she thought he was taller, but perhaps it was just his presence that was so commanding.

“Do you feel it?” His deep brummie snapping her back to reality.

She did. His heart. It was racing.

“Why is it beating so fast?” She asked with a furrowed brow.

“It always does when I feel intimidated or threatened,” he responded.

The tobacco on his breath filled her nose and left her head spinning. “But It’s just us here,” She said with a slight shake of her head.

She felt his hummed affirmation more than she heard it. “You must be intimidating,” he said.

She wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious, his expression, as usual, not betraying his thoughts. How on earth could this man, Thomas Shelby, be intimidated by her? He’d seen so much, done so much. How could she intimidate a man who’d killed numerous others, both in France and in Birmingham? How could she intimidate a man with such power?

Sophie found herself suddenly aware of her own heart rate and took a few deep breaths to steady it.

“Alright,” she said. “Now give me your hand.”

Tommy hesitated prompting a quick laugh from Sophie. “Come one now, I’ve humored you. It’s my turn.”

Leaving one hand on Tommy’s chest, she used the other to place his on her own heart. Her soft skin felt rich under his rough fingers, like a luxurious silk, and he fought the urge to let his hand explore further. He hadn’t noticed it before, but she had a pleasing scent. And while Tommy didn’t know enough about flowers to identify it, he knew it was distinctly floral and fresh. He breathed her in deeply.

He’d been with other women since losing Grace, but only out of necessity–either in business or in need of release. What he hadn’t experienced since losing Grace was the desire to learn a woman–to find what pleased her and revisit it again and again. He felt this desire building in him now, as he carefully read all the features of Sophie’s face.

Sophie watched as he ran his tongue along his lips and cleared her throat. “Right,” She said. “Now close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing.”

Tommy did as she instructed and felt her begin to tap her fingers on top of his hand mirroring her own slow, steady heart rate. Before he realized it, his own heartbeat had slowed and fallen into rhythm with Sophie’s.

“See, that’s not so bad,” She whispered with a smirk.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Tommy asked as his eyes sprung open.

Sophie just smiled and Tommy felt a familiar tug in his chest at the sight of it. Without thinking, he slowly moved his hand up her neck to cup her cheek, holding her eyes with his own. “Who are you Ms. Murphy?” he asked quietly.

She looked away from his scrutinizing stare. “Call me Sophie,” she replied.

His hand felt heavy against her face, but as much as she wanted to pull away, she couldn’t. Tommy broke the connection first.

“Gather your things, Sophie. I’ve somewhere to be and I can drop you at your flat on the way,” he said, dropping his hand. And just like that, it was as if the whole interaction had never happened. She just watched as he removed something from his desk, shook into his coat, and headed toward the office door.

He turned and held a hand out toward her, motioning for Sophie to join him.

“And call me Tommy.”

________

Even though the family had owned it for years now (and frequented long before), Tommy had never grown accustomed to the smell of The Garrison Pub. There was a time, when they were all still living in Small Heath, that they were the first to arrive and (Arthur at least) the last to leave. But their lives had changed dramatically over the last several years. Polly was comfortable in her posh neighborhood, Ada was making her way in London, Arthur and John had both moved their families to the countryside, even Tommy himself now lived at Arrow House–their nights at The Garrison seemed few and far between. That was before the arrival of Luca Changretta on Birmingham’s soil. Now, Tommy needed to convince his family to return to the muck and smoke of their roots, at least until he could feel confident they were safe.

As he entered the pub, Tommy took in the crowd. It was busy, which was good for business, but retained the same stale scent of spilled beer and sweat from the men who’d just walked off the line of a full day’s work. He quickly ducked into the snug, avoiding small talk with any of the patrons who may want to challenge, or kiss the ass of, the man who ran their streets.

His family was already waiting for him. Tommy could feel the tension between them as soon as he entered the small room. It had taken a while, but Michael, Polly and John eventually decided to put the incident of their arrests and damn near executions behind them. Michael, perhaps, was the only one who’d actually forgiven Tommy for turning them over, but he was grateful the others had, at least, moved on with business. Arthur was another story, likely being fed a hostile rhetoric from Linda, though Tommy couldn’t blame her. She was far brighter than some members of his family, and perhaps more manipulative too. He’d expect nothing less than her constantly in Arthur’s ear, pressuring him to leave his “corrupt brother and shady business dealings” and head for a new life elsewhere. Ada was hesitant to admit it, but she almost saw the necessity of what he’d done when Tommy turned on his entire family. He believed the ends justified the means and his own belief in that was almost enough to convince her as well.  

He’d never know exactly what they were saying when he entered the snug, but he would have placed a bet it wasn’t in his favor.

“Right then, let’s get on with it,” Arthur said, impatiently.

Tommy remained standing. “A month ago, I received this,” he said, tossing the black hand on the table between them all. “I received it because we killed someone, Vicente Changretta.”

He watched as each member of the family reacted to the card on the table. Each one sharing in the shock and fear that washed through the room. Only Polly remained unfazed.

“And now, I have it on good authority, his son Luca has come to take revenge,” Tommy continued. “Men from New York and Sicily here in Birmingham. These men will not leave our city until our whole family is dead. That’s how it works–an eye for an eye. It’s called vendetta.”

Tommy paused and looked around the room to ensure all eyes were on him before continuing. “This means, that despite the bad blood between us, until this business is settled, we stay together.”

Linda rolled her eyes.

“And we stay here,” Tommy added.

“We can defend our own homes, Tommy,” Arthur said.

But Tommy didn’t acknowledge him. “From Small Heath down the corridor of Stratford Road to Arrow House. We know every face and every man is a soldier in this army.”

“Tom,” John interrupted. “Arthur’s right, we should remain in our own homes. I’m not uprooting my family because some fucking Italians think they can play soldier.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Esme threw at her husband. “They’d likely come for us first, seeing how remote we are.“

“Right. And these men are professionals, they’re good at what they do, so we’re going to need more than we have. I’ve sent a message to Aberama Gold,” Tommy continued.

Johnny, who had remained quiet until now, pushed off the wall and took a step forward. “No,” he said.  “No, Tom. I’ll get you fifty Lee boys. Good men, Tom.”

“I don’t need good men, Johnny. For this, I need bad men.”

“His people are fuckin’ savages. You know?” Johnny continued. “Heathens, Tom. They don’t even let them in the fair, so they come and steal our horses. You know, stealing from their own, Tom.”

“So this the plan, Thomas? This is the plan?” Polly asked. “I supposed there’ll be a bullet with a name on it? Help from a bunch of savages?”

Tommy took a deep breath. Although his aunt knew about the black hand, he hadn’t told her his plans to retaliate.

“We’re going to go on the offensive, Polly,” He added. “I’ve spoken to Moss. He’s putting out word.” Linda scoffed, but Tommy just pressed on. "Eyes and ears so we can find ‘em.” Tommy placed his hands on the table and leaned closer to his family. “Yeah, the truth is, the police are busy with the revolution. Moss says they’re expecting strikes and riots when the weather gets warmer. The Bolsheviks are planning…”

“The Bolsheviks couldn’t plan a fucking picnic,” Ada interrupted, “He’s reading the wrong papers.”

“Ada! Real or not real, the coppers don’t give a fuck about us. All right?” His sister rolled her eyes, but he just continued, standing up straight again and crossing his hands in front of him. “Which means that here today, in this room, we have to agree to end this war between us…” Tommy paused, staring at the back wall across the room.

“So we can move on to a bigger one.”

__________________

Read Chapter 3

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #alfie solomons #luca changretta #I couldn't let John die again #HazelNMae

[sailorsei]

John Seed x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit! 18+ Only!

Word Count: 6.8K

Summary: After a month and a half of fighting her feelings, the junior rookie gives in.

Warnings: Smut, blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, etc.

Author Note: Also this contains side Staci Pratt x Reader!

UPDATE: 3/30/20: I didn’t originally have this fic in it’s entirety posted cause I thought tumblr had a character limit and was getting rid of smut fics but I guess that isn’t the case lol full fic under the cut

~Prologue~

It wasn’t a secret that you and the Seed family had some tension between each other. It had been over a month and a half since you had tried (and failed) to arrest Joseph Seed. It felt like years since you had a taste of “normalcy”. Once you had grouped up with the resistance, you refused to leave Hope County until you were able to bring all of the Seed family to justice.

But. That was the thing. That was the weird, fucked up thing. You didn’t know if you wanted to do that anymore. Even though you had saw what they had done, as you fought them, escaped countless times from them, you started to just pity them. You just wanted them to be healed by what had brought them to this horrible cult.

This wasn’t something you could voice, however. Especially to your closer friends in the resistance. Your crew consisted of Hudson, Pratt, Sharky, and Hurk. Sharky and Hurk helped you spring both of your colleagues a few weeks in to this whole fucked up situation. It took a while for them to be “normal” again, if you could even call it that. Pratt still woke up in the night with night terrors, and Hudson was very against physical content now. It was tough for the both of them, but you were helping them through it.

~Now~

Riding on your four-wheeler, you sped down the road towards Fall’s End. You had some Intel about a potential Peggie attack to steal back Falls End that you needed to tell Pastor Jerome and Mary May. Hanging a left onto the main road to Fall’s End, your walkie crackled to life on your shoulder.

“My, my, deputy. Letting your hair down for once. And a dress! You’re beautiful.”

John Seeds voice softly came through the speaker. You hit the brakes and whipped out your pistol, looking for him.

“Where are you at, you fuckin’ well-dressed weasel?” You yelled. Obviously he could see you, since he was commenting on your appearance. You hoped he was far enough away that he couldn’t see how flustered that had made you.

John Seed, you found, was the most attractive of the brothers. His piercing blue eyes, accompanied by his darker hair, and his good taste in fashion. His words dripped like honey. Even when he had you captured, you would stop paying attention to what he was saying when he was monologing because you were too distracted by his movements.

Of course you tried to hide it the best that you could, but he had picked up on it. The last time that he had had you in his grip, he made sure his touches, and eyes, lingered a little bit too long, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t let him get to you though. The last thing you needed was to tell your crew that you had slept with the enemy. But you knew it was just going to get harder and harder.

“You think I’m well dressed? Thank you. And don’t worry about where I am. I’m not here to stir the pot. Just here to observe. Until next time.” The walkie went radio silent. You scanned around you a few more moments before driving away, flipping off the trees behind you.

Walking into the bar, Mary May and the pastor were chatting away over some food.

“There’s my favorite Deputy.” Jerome leaned in for a hug and whispered, “Don’t tell Hudson that.” He chuckled. Mary May waves as she had her mouth full.

“Just wanted to stop in and let y’all know to be in the look out. Peggies might be rallying to take back Fall’s End. Don’t know how credible this is but, better safe than sorry.” You leaned against the bar as you spoke. Mary May rolled her eyes at the thought and kept eating. Jerome nodded in thought.

“Thank you. It’s good to be on our toes at all times. I’ll make sure we have some extra patrols around.” Jerome patted you on the shoulder and went back to his food.

You said your goodbyes and headed back to your four-wheeler and headed towards Dutchs Island. There was a reason you were “dolled up” today. You had been seeing Pratt for a week now, and you had a date today. Was it to fill the John sized hole in your heart, or did you genuinely like him? Who was to say? You both had agreed to keep it causal since you both could die at any time. No use getting attached.

There was a perfect beachy spot by where you had first destroyed a Bliss Shrine, and you two were to meet there and soak up some sun. It had been a while since you had had a day to yourself, and everyone practically forced you to take it. Hudson even playfully kicked you out of the bunker you two called home so that you could have a break.

You waded through the water and began walking up the dirt hill to see Pratt laying out a picnic blanket in the grass patch in the distance.

Your speaker crackled to life once more.

“Don’t have too much fun on your date. Not that you could, since it’s not with me.”

John Seed went as quickly as he came. Your radio was silent once more. You turned off your radio so he wouldn’t disturb you again. But now you knew he was watching you, from somewhere in the trees. Maybe from the bridge? You had no idea, and honestly? It excited you a little bit. You continued walking towards Pratt.

“Hey! You’re just in time. Was just about to bust open the picnic basket.” Pratt reached in and pulled out some sparkling water, which you loved, and handed it to you.

“Thank you, Staci. This is exactly what I needed right now.” You sat down next to him and opened the can, chugging it. Water dripped down your chin to your neck. You could feel Stacis eyes on you, hungrily watching you.

You knew you were being selfish and unfair. But right now, you didn’t care. You needed some sort of release and the idea of John watching you get off drove you wild.

You set the can down and stood up. Staci went to ask you what you were doing when you lifted your dress up and over your head, throwing it to the side. Staci just stared at your body, mouth agape. You hadn’t been wearing a bra, and were wearing sheer, lace panties. You straddled Staci and began to kiss him. He quickly came back to earth from whatever was going on in his head and kissed back, hands latching onto your hips.

You ground against his hips, erupting a growl from Staci. He squeezed your ass with one hand and massaged your chest with the other, eliciting a groan from you. You broke the kiss and latched onto his neck, grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot.

“Oh dear god...” Staci whimpered.

You left a sizable hickey and pulled back, while pushing him down to lie on his back. You slid off of his lap and grabbed onto his belt. You looked up at him with your big doe eyes for the go ahead. You had never seen someone shake their head so fast in their life.

You unbuckled his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxer briefs. His cock sprang up from its confine. He was average size and girth. Just what you expected from a guy of his stature. He had a few beads of pre cum leaking from the tip. You eyed it hungrily. You leaned it and gave it a light lick, eliciting the sluttiest moan from Staci. Must have been a while, you thought.

You jumped right in and took his whole length in your mouth, causing him to buck his hips. You bobbed up and down a few times before he had to stop you.

“Let me at least get you off before I embarrass myself and come within 2 seconds...” He sat up and it was your turn to be pushed down. He hooked his fingers around the sides of your panties and pulled them down, tossing them with your dress. Your confident streak must have been all used up on going down on Staci as when he turned back to you, you instinctually covered your face.

“Don’t worry, I got you. Let me see you.” You uncovered your beet red face to see Staci in between your legs. He maintained eye contact as he licked a long stripe along your folds, causing you to groan. You got yourself off regularly, but to have someone else doing it for you was godly.

He gave your folds a few more licks before diving in and suckling onto your clit. He inserted one finger, then two into you and began pumping. You grabbed onto the picnic blanket for dear life and didn’t bother to try to quiet yourself.

You felt your orgasm building and you began to roll your hips in tandem with his finger pumps. You moaned out Stacis name as you came on his tongue. He moaned into you as you did so. You’re surprised he didn’t come on the spot from you doing that. It wasn’t that Staci was a virgin, but he seemed the type to come fast, and unexpectedly.

“Oh my god, you’re so gorgeous.” He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and came up to kiss you. You kissed him back and lifted your hips to his, hoping he would get the message.

“Oh, I, uh, didn’t bring a condom or anything...” He said, a little defeated.

“I don’t care, just please, I need you.” You groaned into his ear. He whispered “oh god...” under his breath and positioned himself with your entrance.

As he pushed in, you both moaned in unison. You needed this so badly. You hugged his cock so well. You knew it wouldn’t last for long, so you asked him to flip you over so that he could do you from behind. It was your favorite position and it was a guaranteed orgasm for you.

He grabbed hold of your hips and began snapping his hips against you. You moaned into the blanket and reached your hand in between your legs to massage your clit.

The sounds that you two were making were absolutely sinful. If a Peggie saw you two, they would probably faint.

He continued to thrust into you. He must have found the confidence you lost as he pounded into you, and started some dirty talk.

“You like that? You take me so well.”

You let out a faint mumble in response.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you. I need to know how good I’m doing.” His hand came down onto your ass, making you yell out in both pain and pleasure.

“Oh god, yes, Staci. I’m almost there.”

You could tell he was close too, his thrusts were starting to become erratic.

“Staci, please, fill me up.” You groaned. It was something you liked to save for the end. You didn’t like to tell your lovers about your cum kink, as most people just assumed you were trying to land a baby, which you were not.

Staci came inside you, coating your walls. This was enough to send you over the edge, you yelled into the blanket. He continued fuck you through your orgasm, cum dripping down your thighs as he did. Once you had stilled, he slowly pulled out, causing you both to whimper. You rolled onto your back, Staci lying beside you. You both said nothing as you watched the clouds go by. It was so peaceful that you both had fallen asleep.

 After you and Staci had woken up from your little cat nap, you had lunch and said your goodbyes.

You hopped onto your four-wheeler and turned your radio back on. The radio crackled as you did. You hoped it was John, but it wasn’t.

“Hey, you on your way home yet, Rookie?” Hudson asked.

“Yeah, just got back to my ride. Shouldn’t be too long.” You replied.

“Just got back, huh?” She purred over the walkie. “Did you guys have some fun?” She teased.

“You know what? I’ll indulge you. He blew my back out. Pratt may look innocent but he knows his way around a person’s body.” You smugly said. That ought to shut her up. Hudson gasped on her end. “Oh my god! I was kidding! But you slept with him! Oh my god! Just wait until I tell—“

“Don’t tell anyone! We’re trying to keep this casual. Don’t need all of Hope County to know about my dick appointment. Anyways, I’ll tell you more when I get home. See ya.” You revved up your four-wheeler and took off towards the bunker.

Your hair bellowed through the wind, erasing any signs of sex. Even though it was almost 5 o’ clock, the air was still warm. Looking at the river next to you, you could almost imagine what it was like to live here before it all went to shit.

You pulled over to the shoulder and got off your four-wheeler and walked over to the river to get a better look at some deer that were drinking. You got out your phone to take pictures when the radio crackle scared them away, causing you to cuss, loudly.

“Now, Now. A Lady shouldn’t cuss.” John Seed’s voice came out of the speaker. Groaning, you took the radio from your shoulder and help it up to your mouth.

“I’ll cuss whenever I damn well fuckin’ please, thanks. Also, fuck you for scaring away the deer I was looking at.” You put your free hand on your hip as you paced. Why did he feel the need to just call you up whenever he pleased?

“Such a foul mouth. First cussing, and then sucking your friends cock in the open. I think you need to learn some manners.” You froze. So he was watching. Your cheeks flared up. You were at a loss of words.

“What, no witty remark? Interesting.” He chuckled.

“I’m an adult. I can do what I want. And if that means cussing, and sucking dick in the wilderness, then that’s what I’m gonna do. You’re not my dad.” You replied, stomping as you paced. Who did this prick think he was?

“You know what, Seed? Where are you at? I’m getting sick of this cat and mouse game. I can show you what this mouth can do and say—wait, that’s not what I meant, fuck.” You instantly regretted it after it came out of your mouth. Of course you meant you wanted to cuss him out, and maybe kick his ass, but of course, that wasn’t how it was interpreted.

“Oh, I would love to see what your mouth can do. I’m sure I could put it to good use. My men could be there for you in minutes.” He purred. Your cheeks, as well as your pussy, started to heat up. This was your chance. You could say you went to beat him up, that’s why you were going to let yourself get captured. The perfect cover story. You bit your lip and looked around. You made up your mind.

“Fine. I would love to settle this. I’m sure you know where I am already. I’ll wait by my four-wheeler. Anyone gives me shit, I’m whooping some ass, just letting you know.” You started marching towards your ride.

“Of course. I’ll see you soon, Little Lamb.” You shivered at the pet name. The Seed boys all called you by it, but the way John said it had a different effect on you.

You rested your hands on your ride to catch your breath. Were you really doing this? You needed to let Hudson know you were going to be gone for the rest of the night. Didn’t need her poking around more than she already did.

“Hey, uh, Hud. I’ll be actually home a little later. Something came up. Don’t wait up.” You said and turned off your radio. You hoped that she would assume that maybe you met back up with Staci.

You leaned against your ride when you saw a black SUV coming towards you. You instinctually rested your hand on your gun. The SUV pulled up slowly and came to a stop in front of you. A well-groomed Peggie got out of the passenger door and opened the rear passenger door for you, motioning for you to get in. You hid your four-wheeler behind some bushes and tucked the key into your bag, as you headed for the SUV.

“Any funny business and I’ll pop y’all.” You said as you got in. The SUV smelled like it was brand new. You crossed your arms and looked out the window and they pulled off back onto the road. The ride was quiet, save for some low volume gospel music. You knew you were headed to John’s ranch by the route you were going.

As you got closer to your destination, the anxiety set in. What if this was a trap? You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and looked at the driver, to the guard in the seat in front of you. They were armed, but they hadn’t done anything yet. You rested your hand on your gun, hoping it would bring you some comfort.

You pulled up to the big, red fortress. Guards paced around the outside. Peggie flags rippled in the wind. You looked at the entrance into the living room and that’s when you saw him.

John stood on the porch, arms behind his back. His sunglasses sat on his head. He was wearing a blue button up (Which was only half buttoned, revealing his chest), a black vest, and some black jeans. You’re sure they were all designer. He began to walk up to the car as you parked. He opened your door for you, taking your hand to help you out. You were only 5’4” so it was kind of hard to gracefully get out of the SUV without help.

“You’re even more stunning in person.” He said.

“T-thank you.” You were flustered, to say the least. He looked at you with such adoration that you forgot that this wasn’t a date. That this wasn’t a normal get together. You looked at each other for a moment longer until you looked away, at the ground, trying to conceal your blush.

“Let’s get inside. I have dinner set for us.” He rested his hand on your lower back as he guided you to the house. You couldn’t believe it. Dinner?!

Entering the house, you saw a table set on the other side of the fire place. The table was adorned with all sorts of foods. You simply just stared at it, in astonishment.

“I didn’t know what your favorite food was, so I made it all. Please, sit.” He pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down. You didn’t know where to start. There were steaks, roast, mashed potatoes, pasta, fruit, veggies, you name it. You went to stand to dish yourself when John pushed your shoulders back down.

“No, let me. You’re my guest.” He dished you up a little of everything and then himself. He sat at the other end of the table. You took a bite of the steak and groaned, unintentionally.

“Ok, I’ll admit, this steak is fucking amazing—oh sorry. I’ll watch my mouth since you went to all this trouble.” You smiled sarcastically, and went back to eating. John smiled, raising his glass as thanks, and began to eat himself. You two sat quietly as you ate. It was actually pretty nice to eat real food at a dinner table, in a house, with no gun fire in the distance.

“So, tell me, what is your favorite food? I hope this lives up to whatever it is you fancy.” He asked.

“This is going to make me sound like a child, but honestly, its cheese pizza.” You said, a little embarrassed. You loved most food, but pizza would always have your heart. John chuckled.

“No, that’s perfectly fine. I haven’t had my favorite pizza in a long time. There was this place in LA that had the best pizza.” He lost himself in thought for a second. It was as if this was the first time he had thought about his past in a long time.

“What made you leave your past life? What made you come here?” You asked. You only knew John through what you had been told by the resistance. He looked at you with those big baby blues, and looked a little sad, but just for a moment.

“Joseph needed help, and being his brother, I felt it was my duty to be there for him. Anyway, pizza is a perfectly fine food to be your favorite. I hope you saved room for desert.” John stood and walked into the other room, which you assumed was the kitchen. He was gone for a moment and reappeared with some small bowls with spoons. He handed you one and went back to his seat. You looked and saw that it was some sort of either frozen yogurt or ice cream.

“This is gelato. It’s one of my favorites.” He took a bite of his and smiled to himself. You used your spoon and take a small bite to make sure it wasn’t laced with bliss or anything. But what you found, was that it was one of the best things you had ever put in your mouth. You took another bite and said “Oh my God” under your breath as you ate. John seemed pleased with himself.

You cleaned the bowl, and set it down on the table. As you had ate the delicious gelato, Peggies had cleared the table. Some gave you dirty looks, which you happily returned. John stood and offered his hand to help you up. You reluctantly took it and he walked you over to the couch and sat down. You sat on the opposite side of the couch. You took this chance to look around the room. It had high ceilings and a pretty chandelier above where the table was.

“This place truly is a gift. I was so happy to buy it. Makes you feel one with nature with the big doors to the back yard, with the view of the mountains.” John looked past you to the outside. The sun was starting to set, casting sun rays into the living room onto you and John.

“You look ethereal in the sun light.” You turned to look at him and he had somehow scooted across the couch to be closer to you. He was inches from you when you looked up at him.

“I-Uh, thank you.” You stuttered. He raised his hand and caressed the side of your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You shivered. You weren’t sure if he was going to kiss you or just stare at you. You waited for him to make a move. His hand moved down from your cheek to your shoulder to your neck. His palm rested on your throat and you suddenly started to panic. Was he really going to choke you out right here? After going to all that trouble for dinner? You went to start cussing him out when he spoke.

“Now. I think we need to do something about that mouth of yours.” He squeezed a little bit against your throat. “I think we need to teach you a lesson about respect.” He ran his thumb over your pulse and released your neck. You swallowed and instinctually went to reach for your throat when he grabbed your hand and stood.

He led you up the stairs to his room. Light peaked through the curtains and dimly lit the room. His bed was lined up with a fire place on the opposite wall, and was parallel with another door which you assumed was to the bathroom. As you looked around the room, John shut and locked the door. You turned to look at him when he harshly pushed you against the wall, his hand finding your neck again. He picked you up by the hips and held you against the door, his hips against yours. His eyes, now looking so hungry, met yours before he crashed his lips against yours.

You melted into the kiss. You had waited for this for so long. His hands gripped your ass hard, you knew it was going to leave bruises. You ground your hips against him, causing him to growl in response. You ran your hands through his hair and tugged lightly. He broke the kiss to kiss your neck, nipping along the way. You angled your head so he could get better access. He bit down hard, causing you to yelp.

“John! What the fuck—“ He pulled away and threw you onto the bed. You went to push yourself up when his hand came down across your ass. You let out an “Ah!” collapsed onto the bed again.

“I’m going to punish you every time you cuss. You’re going to learn.” This turned you on a little. You turned onto your back and looked up at him.

“I’ll promise to be a good girl.” You purred. Your dress and ridden up and exposed your panties. You went to go touch yourself when he batted away your hand.

“You’ll do as you’re told. And I don’t want you pleasuring yourself at all. Understood?” He removed his shirt and vest and looked at you expectantly. You nodded and waited for him to do something. You needed some kind of friction. He leaned down and put his knee right up against your pussy, causing you to whimper.

“Use my knee.” Was all he said, and you happily obliged. He bent down and started kissing you again and he took hold of your wrists and heled them against the bed. You started to grind against his knee. You needed more but this had to do. He held both of your wrists with one hand so that the other could pull down the front of your dress. He grabbed your breast and ran his thumb over your nipple a few times before using his mouth and teeth. You whimpered and arched your back. You needed him inside you.

“Just fuck me already!” You groaned and then he released you, and got off of you and the bed. You looked up at him, frustrated. He looked at you.

“What did I say?” You rolled your eyes and put on your best kiss ass tone of voice.

“I’m sorry. I forgot. Please come back?” You pouted. He didn’t move. And that’s when you took the situation into your hands. You got up and shed your dress. You tossed it to the floor and turned to him. You ran your hands up his chest, admiring his tattoos, before pushing him on to the bed. Before he could say anything, you started unbuckling his belt. He watched you tug down his pants and underwear. He lifted his hips so that you could fully take them off.

You got onto your knees and in between his. His cock was larger than Stacis, and thicker. You looked up at him as you took him into your mouth. You could tell he was burning this moment into his mind. To think back on once and a while. You bobbed up and down as best you could without gagging yourself.

“I told you that you could put that mouth to better use.” He said. You licked a long stripe up his shaft and circled around the head, before taking him back into your mouth. He tilted his head back and began to fuck your mouth. You gripped his thighs to prevent yourself from touching your pussy. You moaned onto his cock and he looked back down at you. He lifted your chin off of him and brought you up to kiss. He grabbed you by the ass and brought you up to straddle his head. He urged you to lower yourself onto his face. You did so and had to grab the head board to support yourself.

He went straight for your clit and you threw your head back in ecstasy. You had good head before, but straddling someone’s head was some next level shit. He tongue fucked you as you felt an orgasm building. You rode his tongue as you came, yelling his name as loud as you could. You didn’t care if the Peggies outside could hear you.

He suckled on your clit as you rode out your orgasm. He slowly raised you up so he could slide out from under you. You stayed where you were as you were still coming down from your high. John pulled your hips towards him and flipped you onto your back. He kissed you lightly, and then looked at you. You were flushed, hair sticking to your forehead, as you panted.

“W-what?” You asked, annoyed. He shook his head and kissed your neck. He lined himself up with you and entered you at a painfully slow pace.

“Please… Go faster.”

“Since you’ve been good, I’ll indulge you.” Without skipping a beat, he thrust his entire length into you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh dear god… This is amazing.” You felt so good you just had to say it out loud. He pumped a few more times, slowly.

“You feel even better than I imagined, Little Lamb. I’ve wanted this for so long.” He rested his head in the crook of your neck, kissing.

“Me too…” You finally admitted.

“I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you, when you came for Joseph. I imagined you just like this, under me, at my mercy.” His thrusts grew more powerful as he reminisced. “Tell me, Little Lamb, just how long have you wanted me?” You ran your nails down his back and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Ever since the baptism.” You said breathily.

“Tell me how you felt. What you wanted me to do to you. Don’t leave out a single detail. Confess to me.” It wouldn’t be John if he didn’t throw in some of his Eden’s Gate spiel.

“When you held me under the water, I wondered what it would be like to be held under you. I just wanted you to take me then and there. Ah…god.” You could feel another orgasm building, it was getting hard to talk.

“Is that it, Little Lamb?”

“I wanted you to fill me up. I wanted you to mark me up, make me yours. Oh, god, John!” You started to come and John took this opportunity to kiss you. His tongue made its way into your mouth and danced gracefully with yours. The bed creaked and hit the back of the wall as he fucked you through your orgasm.

As you came down, John flipped you over and started taking you from behind. He reached both arms around you and hugged you from behind. His mouth nibbled on the back of your ear as he fucked you into the mattress.

“I feel the same way Little Lamb. I want to be the only one you love. The only one that sees you like this.” He lowly laughed. “The only one that fucks you. You’re mine.” You were caught off guard by him cussing, when he sank his teeth into your shoulder, drawing blood. In a weird, fucked up way, this sent you to orgasm instantly. His hips slammed into you as he came with you. You could feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls completely. He fucked you through both of your orgasms and slowly stopped, but not pulling out. He rested his head against your back and caught his breath. He kissed your shoulder and pulled you with him as he laid on his side, him still inside you.

You both laid there, basking in the afterglow. He finally pulled out, causing you to groan. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. You closed your eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

 You opened your eyes and for a second forgot where you were. You turned to see John sound asleep next to you. He had draped a blanket over the two of you. You looked at him as he slept. He looked so peaceful. You let yourself forget all the things he and his family had done. You let yourself pretend that you were just an ordinary couple. You let yourself forget, even if it was just for tonight. You moved closer and snuggled into his chest. He put his arm around you and snuggled back. You listened to his heart beat as it lulled you back to sleep.

Before you knew it, it was morning. You felt next to you for John and found that you were alone. You sat up, clutching the sheet to you and looked around. You could smell bacon coming from downstairs. You got up and went to grab your dress, but it was gone. You were about to get seriously pissed when you looked at the chair by the fireplace.

A blue and white striped summer dress was draped over it, with a pair brand new panties, as well as some flats. A little note was pinned to the dressed. It read:

Good Morning Little Lamb I had these bought for you as you slept. I hope you like them. Come downstairs when you’re showered and dressed. -John

You blushed at the note and made your way over to the bathroom to shower.

After you had showered and dressed, you made your way downstairs. John was setting the table when he turned to look at you. He smiled and brought his hands together like he was going to pray.

“Stunning. Absolutely gorgeous.” He walked over to you and brought you into the most passionate kiss. You kissed him back. He guided you to the table and helped you into your chair.

“I made you some bacon, and eggs benedict. I hope you like that.” You nodded hungrily. You had worked up quite the appetite from last night’s activities. You waited for him to sit down before you dug in. It was amazing.

You helped him clean up and do the dishes. It was very domestic, to the point where it made you feel sad. You wanted this so badly. But you couldn’t have it. John picked up on your change in emotion and grabbed your hands.

“What’s wrong?” He looked sincere. You didn’t know if you should tell him. This was crazy, wasn’t it? You couldn’t want to be with John fucking Seed. All the things he and his family had done to the people of Hope County. You took your hands back and walked over to the window and looked outside. You imagined living here, hell, maybe even raising kids here. You grew teary eyed. You looked back to John.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me. I should go.” You went to leave when he grabbed your shoulders and turned you to face him. Concern all across his face.

“Tell me, Little Lamb.” The nickname was all it took for you to collapse and start sobbing. He picked you up and brought you to the couch. He held you as you cried, and cried. You didn’t know how to convey how you felt without making him upset. You wiped you tears away and took a few breaths.

“I…” You sighed. “I want to be with you.” You looked at him. He looked confused cause, obviously, this was something he wanted as well.

“But I can’t. What would the resistance think? I don’t even agree with all of the things that you and your family do. But I just can’t get you out of my head.” Your lip started to quiver again and John pulled you into a big hug. He rocked you back and forth until you weren’t on the verge of tears and pulled away.

“The decision is yours, Little Lamb. I would love to have you here, with me, and my family. We would love for you to help with Eden’s Gate.” John kissed your forehead. You leaned into the kiss and closed your eyes in thought. Would his family accept you? After all that you had done? And what about your friends? Surely you would be shunned. And that would put a big target on your back. You needed some time to think. You looked at John and gave him a peck on the lips, and stood.

“I need some time to think. I will let you know my decision… Once I figure it out.” You grabbed your bag and hurriedly left the ranch. You decided to walk back to your four-wheeler to give yourself more time to think. You turned on your walkie and Hudson immediately bombarded you with questions. You told her you didn’t want to talk and turned your walkie back off. You rode your four-wheeler for what seemed like hours. You ended up in Faith’s region and you decided to stop and dip your feet in the water at a dock you were near. You sat there, watching the ripples in the water from the fish when you felt someone behind you. You looked and saw Faith, or perhaps an apparition of Faith, approach you. She sat beside you in her signature dress, humming.

“Did John send you here to talk to me?” You asked, staring back at the water. She was humming some gospel tune.

“No. He confided in me about your situation. I wanted to offer some advice.” She took your hand and intertwined your fingers. You let her. She continued to hum for little while longer before turning to you.

“I think you need to follow your heart.” She said. You looked at her.

“But if I do that, my life may as well be over. My friends would hunt me down. I know too much for the resistance, and I in good conscience couldn’t help you guys against them. God I wish I would have never taken this stupid fucking job.” You began to get tear eyed again. Faith pulled you into a hug and you cried into her shoulder as she rubbed your back. She pulled away after you were cried out and went back to looking at the water.

“I know you know my story. I know you may not trust me but let me just tell you something. Not following my heart was what almost led me to my demise. Until I met the Seeds, I always did what I thought everyone else wanted me to do, so that I would get some love from them. But eventually I couldn’t do it anymore. And I almost died. Follow your heart. It won’t steer you wrong.” You went to look at her and thank her, and she was gone.

Something she said resonated with you and that’s when you snapped. You knew what you wanted. You wanted John. You wanted to help the Seeds turn Eden’s Gate around. You didn’t care if your friends hated you. You knew in your heart that this was your lifes purpose. To help this family better themselves. That’s why you took this job. To help people. You ran to your ride and revved it to life and headed to Johns Ranch. You started happy crying on your way there.

You pulled up and practically flew off your four-wheeler and ran towards the porch. Peggies looked startled but didn’t try to stop you. You’re sure you’re on their “Don’t Fuck With” list now cause of John. You ran inside and didn’t see John.

“John! Where are you! It’s me! John!” You yelled. You heard him call for you from the back yard. You ran out and saw him with Joseph, sitting on some lawn chairs. You froze. You didn’t know how much Joseph knew, but you were still afraid. You slowly walked up to them. They both stood. You stopped in front of them and looked at your feet, playing with the ring you were wearing, not sure on how to tell them what you decided. Joseph put a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him.

“I know why you are here, Little Lamb. I am happy to have you in our family.” He pulled you into a hug and then into that weird forehead touch thing that he does with the others. He placed a kiss onto your head. He pulled away and nodded to John and made his departure.

You looked at John after, and you could see the hope, the pleading in his eyes. You began to cry again and threw your arms around him. “I’m following my heart, and it led me to you.”

#my fic #john seed x reader #john seed #far cry 5 #joseph seed #faith seed #staci pratt #joey hudson #staci pratt x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #my fics

[x0xblue-angelx0x]

Sorry, just ranting. I’ll delete it later.

My lack of socialization has reached the point where I am under threat of retaining a literal inability to LEARN. I thought my memory just straight naturally sucked, but it’s my tendency to isolate myself for months on end that are causing it. My loss of realist, I always thought I just had a really great imagination but..I spend so much time in my day dream world that I’m just letting my life pass by, wondering why I’m not as successful as I am in my dream world.

And you know what sucks?

Even after writing that out, I already know nothing is going to change because I literally CANNOT bring myself to go out and hang out with anyone. Even when I DO hang out with this one married couple, 99% of the time it’s just them talking and me receiving silence to anything i say so...I just don’t go out. No one wants to hang out with me, or I’ve ghosted them, or they’ve forgotten about me because I SUCK at maintaining any level of communication when they aren’t in the same house as me. And even then, I barely talk to anyone in my own house, it’s just me LISTENING to their problems and probably annoying them to no end when I DO complain to them about stuff.

I need to get out and I know I need to get out but, I’m not allowed to even go back to college until I pay back my $900 debt that INCONSPICUOUSLY appeared right before the summer semester... guys (as in, the void, cuz no one is reading this) so much is going down hill for me and I don’t know what to do. So many lies I’ve been forced to keep, so many acts, so..SO many lies. I’m so tired and if I try telling my mom that none of this would be happening if she just DIDNT force me to go to this community college and FORCE me to use that GI bill, like I did today, she would bite my fucking head off and blame ME. Because that’s how this family is. They blame everyone and never take responsibility for their own actions. Everyone plays the victim, including me and I hate it. Why couldn’t I just stand up and refuse, why couldn’t I STOP CRYING and stand up like a man and say that they can’t fucking tell me what to do! Why can’t i do that?! Everyone says that there will come a day where I’ll snap and blow up at everyone and won’t take no ones shit no more, but when the fuck is that supposed to happen?! I’ve waited long enough! I need this “I don’t give a shit” attitude to come out NOW.

I can’t do this anymore. I want to die, but I want to die because I want to LIVE. I’m so sick of being so miserable that I feel like I’m dying, I’m so tired I feel like I’m bleeding out and I just want to fuckin DIE ready so that I can just, screw all this bull shit and just start living. MY life. When do I get to live MY life and stop being frozen in place and not DOING anything about it?!

....why am I sorry about making this post?...it’s MY blog, so why do I feel like such an annoyance for speaking and not being short sweet and funny? Probably because I feel like my problems aren’t important nor interesting enough to be considered content. Probably because I’d rather be liked than...than annoy people. I WANT people to know me but I feel like that’s cursing other people. I want to vent but I feel like, my shit isn’t important and should just be deleted. I couldn’t tell you how many of these that I’ve written and just, deleted, because I KNOW no one reads them. That shouldn’t MATTER but...it does. Because I know this is me, reaching out and WANTING to see that someone reads my tripe. Wanting to hear that people hear ME. I always just want to make people laugh, because when they laugh, people hear you and see you and are brought enjoyment by your presence. If I’m not always funny. My humor is dry and horrible so, I make jokes out of my suffering, because I know other people go through that too, and we all just want to laugh at our problems to make them, just for a moment, not seem so big. Even though their mass, their size, is what gives them their ironically dark ability to make us laugh because, we’re laughing at our pain. And it sucks. But we do it. I just...sometimes I just want to talk. I don’t always want to joke, that’s why, in person, when I actually succeed in making someone laugh, I immediately laugh and ask “what?” Because I want them to TELL me what I did or said that made them laugh, for that validation, or to get the conversation going. But it never lasts. Because I’m so NOT funny, and so NOT interesting, that no one even notices when I’ve disappeared. No one notices when I don’t post, or when I’ve been asleep for 2 days, or am literally still living in the same town and just....everyone’s forgotten about me, guys....no one from Highschool talks to me except my old art teacher and her husband (I know that sounds strange but they treat me like their kid, that’s the married couple I was talking about before). I just...I WISH, that someone would try to, contact me from middle school. I wish someone would check up on ME like I was with them there for a while. Seeing how they were and how school was. But....no one says hi to me. Actually, now that I’m saying that, the only people that DO talk to me, are guys that want to date me that, quite frankly, I don’t want to date at all. One of them, after a few months of not texting anyone, I replied to and he had the audacity to interrogate and order for me to not keep him waiting and how rude it was of me, even after explaining that I had had a relaps and fell into a deeper depressed state and needed to be alone. I was just so pissed at that, why didn’t I yell at him? I wanted to. But it’s like I’m PROGRAMMED to be this, NICE girl who is super sweet and junk. When in reality, when I’m alone, I’m a savage! I don’t give a shit! I’m clever and don’t take no ones crap, but the moment I come into even digital contact with someone? That all flys out the window and I go right back to being a door mat.

#venting #im sorry #ill delete it later so it doesnt get in the way #of all the memes #ana #mia #thinspo #depression #ed #thinspiration #bulimia #anorexia #binge ed #pro ana

[dykedteach]

okay here we go, episode 2 second watch

(I think this is my longest liveblog I’ve done, but then again I feel like this is the most emotional a tv episode has made me since I finished Black Sails so like?)

so uhhh they’re really gonna hide all the valuable people in the crypts huh, they’re really following through on that

“women and children first” to DIE??? I M EAN

i’ve been thinking about this non stop since i first watched the ep and my growing dread is nigh unstoppable, if i had any doubts that the winterfell dead might rise, their whole repeated thing of “everyone will be safe down there” shot them straight down

i’m lowkey annoyed we missed out on what would have been an incredibly awkward introduction scene between jaime and literally everyone, but i’m glad his “trial” didn’t drag out

i want sam’s opinion on dany’s bloodthirst vis a vis avenging her father BC LIKE????

“i’d do it all again” honey be QUIET 

L O Y A L T  Y 

loyalty

l      o   yal     t e  a

lmao daenerys’ look of anger and disgust at brienne hopping to jaime’s defense alone makes me want her dead tbh

sansa being a better strategist, ruler, negotiator, and peacekeeper than both of her parents combined, is my weakness tbh

also He R  aRmOuR drESs !!!!! what a LOOK! 

d: “what does the warden of the north say about it?” j: [has dissociated solidly through the past six hours, is only now just realising it’s daylight and he’s in the great hall] uhhhhhhhhhhhh cool i guess?

tyrion finally breathing after daenerys lets jaime live is ridiculously endearing, i love the brothers’ relationship so much

baeworm death-glaring jaime is also ridiculously endearing tbh

i dig the gendarya love theme, i do i do i do

everyone keeps saying that the fact they had sex means one of them will die next ep but honestly? out of all the non jonerys pairings (missandei/greyworm, sam/gilly, jaime/brienne) i think they’re most likely to live through the battle, and the fact they have their own theme makes me doubt as well that they’ll end next episode

that poor guy who got in the way of arya and gendry’s dragonglass throwing foreplay, so close yikes

i can’t believe that out of everyone who bran has been weird to, jaime was the one to take his weird shit best

“how do you know there is an afterwards?”           sd;kjlas

djkasljdak;lsd

                        asjd;lsakdla;sd

        bran

                               bran stop

   please be fuckin w us bran

this brotherly love scene is great and it hurts me to think it might be their last solo scene

although the way they keep talking about how sure they are they’ll die....idk? and with bronn on the way with his crossbow? to have both, or either, die at winterfell with the battle seems a waste. plus, one of them needs to be the valonqar so?

i’d be satisfied seeing a dead tyrion rip cersei apart though, i’ll admit that

JAIME GAZING AT BRIENNE INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO HIS BROTHER

pod has come so far in his fighting i love him so much i love brienne’s proud mama expression hes. he’s 100% going to die. for sure. 

“we have never had a conversation that’s lasted this long without you insulting me, not once” KJASDKLASJDKALSJDALKSD 

“i came to winterfell because...” Y OU LOVE HER DUMBASS

i still ship jorah with dany more than jon, fight me

i love the confirmation that all the bad blood between them is under the bridge, i love that he convinced her to make peace with tyrion and sansa, i love that he’s made peace with tyrion taking up his position, made peace with his house, with his relationship with his father...........

he’s absolutely toast and i hate it.

he’s going to die for dany with one last “khaleesi” and it’s going to break my heart

“we have other things in common” yeah you both have jon in your immediate family trees lmao

i’m confused by the “someone taller” comment, who’s she talking about? everyone else hurt her or betrayed her at some point. is it barristan? is it baeworm? it should be baeworm

ok so. i don’t need or want sansa to end up with anyone. 

that said

if it had to be a man

my heart almost jumped out of my chest when she and theon hugged, i didn’t expect her to get this emotional at all, shit i didn’t expect MYSELF to get this emotional

HER TEARS

THEY BOTH NEED HUGS IM GLAD THEY GET HUGS

soup dad can’t die i forbid it

let’s talk about gilly for a second, how far she’s come, from a scared abused girl to a strong, caring, confident woman and mother, i’m so emotional please protect her

DAVOS ADOPTING CHILDREN LEFT RIGHT AND CENTRE

THE SHIREEN THEME PLAYING OVER THAT BIT IM ASJDKASDJ

i’m super surprised edd and beric survived the hearth, i thought there would be more of a fight there

LITTLE CROW

i know people crack ship them, but like, they’d almost be better suited than jon and daenerys

while i adore the idea of theon making amends for taking winterfell from bran by defending winterfell and protecting bran from the night king, i know in my heart that all it’s going to result in is a very dead theon (and probably a dead bran)

why do i feel like while well intentioned, having dragons near the godswood is.....a mistake

i’d love for bran and tyrion to both survive, i’d love to see them talk more as equals because they’re so similar intellectually (i know they had scenes when bran was a kid, but that doesn’t count)

missandei and greyworm are too good and pure for this earth, i want them to leave, i want them to go to naath and never come back, i want them to find a little house by the water and eat fruits and find missandei’s family and take in some stray children, some street cats to lay lazily on the stones of their porch, maybe missandei teaches the children of their village every morning under the rising sun, maybe greyworm becomes a tradesman, makes shoes or ale or binds books for the locals, they grow old and content together and the children they took into their home, now grown adults with their own children, bury them side by side underneath carved stones, i want them more than almost anyone to have a happy ever after because if anyone deserves it it’s those two

but there are dreams that cannot be

and greyworm is almost certain to die next episode

maybe missandei too, but i’m not sure

until then, i will live in my fantasy.

i love my nights watch boys, i love that they talk about grenn and pyp, i miss those lads

sam being the playful, banter-full, confident guy he is, i love him so much i’m so happy for him he better fucking survive (and maybe become lord of horn hill who knows? he has a wife and a son so ? 

honestly the idea of tywin knowing jaime and tyrion are defending winterfell is so wonderful

ha ha h ah ah  ah h a i love tyrion and jaime so much that i. i forget. temporarily. about tyrion’s first wife

brienne stopping pod from drinking and then tyrion just.......fuckin pouring a large one out for the lad

please, let him drink, it’ll be his last

davos is such an old man i love him

jaime looking between brienne and tormund with amusement is the best thing ever

davos’ concern over ten year old tormund hopping into bed with a giant is incredible. dad mode. always on dad mode.

hound’s not gonna die yet, not until cleganebowl, he’s safe next ep for sure. so he’s allowed to be a grumpy old git for a bit

beric is straight up gonna die tho

“might as well be at a bloody wedding” g o d i dont like that foreshadowing

beric is so cheery and amicable im gonna miss him

i’m so glad that they gave arya agency, and a sweet, un-sexploited, in-character sex scene, there’s so few really good sex scenes in this show and i’m glad she got one of them

(no matter how long i spent the first time around watching through my fingers and cringing, i KNOW she’s an adult and maisie is an adult but god she’s still such a kid in my eyes)

as soon as the gloves started coming off i screamed

he is a sweet sweet boy and i wouldn’t want my murdering badass fave to be with anyone else

i appreciate them showing her scars as part of it, i can’t quite put my finger on why but it was nice to see that

i feel like once i get over the weirdness of like, “hey that’s arya”, it’s probably one of the hotter sex scenes in the series? just for passion and use of consent and stuff

i can’t even begin to elaborate on how perfect brienne’s scene is

it’s immediately one of my favourite scenes in the whole show, i honestly don’t have the words

it’s better than any marriage vows that have been taken in the whole series, and to see brienne proud and happy is just...incredible.

the mormont scene i wanted!!!

this is such a touching scene between two of my faves, i want jorah and sam to be pals forever but i know its just....not happening

the fact that sam starts in the crypt but i know he ends up on the battlefield is....concerning to say the least

god. that song. that song is everything

im too in my feelings to care about jonerys, sorry

i can genuinely believe that jon loves her, and doesn’t care about the iron throne or any titles really for that matter. but the other way around? i’m not so sure.

ok so my survival list: dany, jon, sansa, tyrion

everyone else is at risk please pray for me

oh also i bought the download of Jenny and already cried to it three times this evening, so the credits are making it a round four

#laura watches game of thrones #this took me...two hours? to compile?

[concussed-to-pieces]

Sunnyside

Fandom: Mass Effect (2)

Pairing: Zaeed Massani/Female Commander Shepard

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirsty Crew, another branch off from the usual fare! And just in time for N7 Day! I don't know whether anyone among our fine shipmates has played the Mass Effect, but if you have (and enjoy suffering over non-romanceable characters), this one's for you. This installment depicts a period of time between the second and third games, after the last mission in the second but before Shepard is...detained in the third. This also illustrates a slightly different approach to Zaeed's loyalty mission and the Paragon/Renegade options therein. Enjoy!

(I miss Robin Sachs.)

It had been raining for days on end. Weather on Zorya had never been easy to deal with, and that was when Zaeed had all the resources of the Blue Suns at his disposal.

Now he was huddled in a cave next to a smoky, barely-burning fire. With all the vegetation as green and damp as it was on Zorya, the chances of finding nice dry twigs for a fire were slim to none. If the Vorcha ever found his ass scavenging for Boy Scout supplies, he was relatively certain he could kiss it goodbye.

Thirty-three days. He had been stuck here for thirty-three goddamn days. Might be thirty-four at this point. Shepard had blown a proverbial fucking gasket and he had blown a literal fucking gasket and (in retrospect, anyhow) he could maybe see why she might have been irate.

Slightly.

He probably should have let her in on the whole Vido thing. After all, they'd survived the suicide mission, and she wasn't obligated to help him, not by anything but her word. He’d led her into the mission blind and Zaeed knew if there was one thing she hated, it was the way the Illusive Man withheld information. Goddamn girl, goddamn woman.

“I've done something for nearly everyone else. Let me do something for you.” She had said when she came to him with a smile on her face.

That goddamn smile. He would gladly suffer through hours of Nanny Garrus if he could see that smile aimed at him again. Instead, he slept fitfully; waking up sweating from dreams of women with gun muzzles prodding at his skull screaming we're a team Massani!

He wondered if this place and its goddamn spores was getting to him, making him feverish. Sometimes it seemed almost like she was still there. Still standing over him, gloriously tall like a furious deity casting damnation upon some sinner in a lake of fire. Maybe it was the damp, or lack of food and clean drinking water.

Goddamn, but they were a team. Her and him, usually accompanied by the tattooed biotic clusterfuck or the baby Krogan. A damn good team no matter who she picked.

And he had thrown it away. Twenty years of merc experience and then some (much more ‘and then some’), laid at her feet yet she still found him wanting. He had watched her test everyone else. He didn't really know why he had expected something different, something other than him emptying a clip in the direction of Vido's gunship and screaming with years worth of rage as he fucking failed and fucking turned on her like a goddamn rabid dog. The heat sink had been what did him in, ejected in a clumsy rush and clattering onto the ground to ignite a trail of leftover fuel.

He definitely would have left someone like himself under that beam after the explosion. She'd briefly held her pistol to his temple, but he imagined that was more out of fear and shock at the fact that he'd been about to attack her than anything else. The fact that she had pulled the beam off of him before eventually stalking away, her fists balled up so tightly he could hear her gauntlets creak in protest, spoke to the kind of person she was.

In retrospect, he should have known better. He should have told her.

Zaeed pulled his battered body closer to the guttering fire, curling up on his side with the sandy, damp floor for a mattress. He was so goddamn tired of thinking, tired of the circling questions in his mind. He cursed his stubbornness. A normal man would have died by now, instead of struggling on.

Why was she crying? His brain asked, almost in sync with the pounding headache brought on by lack of nourishment. Was she crying for me? Why didn't I listen to her? It's goddamn ludicrous to think that Commander Goddamn Shepard would leave a bunch of innocents to burn.

“We're a team, Massani!”

Goddammit.

“Massani!”

The tears dripping down her cheeks had shone when they fell off her chin, catching the flame's light...

“Massani!”

Zaeed shook his head wearily. “Losing my fucking mind, cherry on goddamn top.” He grumbled to himself, armor scuffing against his skin as he tried to force his fever-achy body into a tighter curl. Anything to try and keep off this goddamn wind and rain...

A hand grabbed his shoulder, roughly shaking him conscious. Zaeed groaned at the dull throb of pain, though it seemed oddly far-off to him. He mostly just felt damp, chilled to the bone. A little confused. Nearly overwhelmed by a quiet sense of disconnect from everything. Her face floated, wavering, in front of his eyes, and he felt a smile pull at the side of his mouth. She looked unbelievably cross, and for some reason that made him happy.

“Figures that I would dream up something like this,” He wheezed, “Sad goddamn old bastard I am, having a pretty girl come comfort me while I fucking die here in the dirt.” Zaeed almost laughed at the expression her face twisted into at that. “I know I'll...fuck it Shepard, I'm never gonna see you again, am I? I deserve this goddamn shit, I know. Dying on the site of what was supposed to be my most fantastic revenge. You weren't ever that big on revenge, were you girl? No, you were about your goddamn 'no man left behind' lifestyle. Figures that I was the one you'd break that rule for. You had to know that goddamn beam fucked me up. Couldn't even lift it off myself.”

“Zaeed, I'm so sorry.”

“Shep, I ain't blaming you. If anything it gave me some goddamn clarity. Maybe...maybe if I had told you from the fucking start what you were in for. You never gave me a goddamn reason not to trust you. You were always good to all your raggedy little misfits, even the Cerberus china doll and the Krogan braintrust.” Zaeed paused. This had been more talking than he’d done for over a month. “But you weren't a fucking pushover Shepard. You knew exactly when to pull goddamn rank. I guess I just never expected you to have to put me in my bloody place. Sorry 'bout that.”

His side fucking hurt. His legs hurt, his head hurt, everything throbbed.

“What sort of garbage hallucination are you, anyway? Shaking me awake like a goddamn bastard.” Zaeed tried to laugh but it was mostly a hacking cough, a wet, spore-filled rattle in his chest. “Everything fucking hurts Shepard. I hate this goddamn planet. I just want to be back on the fucking Normandy. Even with that goddamn AI and your goddamn pilot made of glass.” He groaned, blinking slowly as he felt someone slide an arm around his shoulders. “What kind of goddamn...”

The someone hoisted him onto their shoulders like a human backpack, like he weighed nothing.

“Shep I swear to God, if this is real I'm fucking...I'm eating you out first chance I get as a big goddamn thank you.” Zaeed slurred, fairly certain that he was being dragged to his grave by a bemused Vorcha scavenger. The startled exhale of breath that ghosted across his cheek made him curious though. “You gonna’ kill me? Vido send you?”

“You need to be quiet.”

It was Shepard! Zaeed had thought he was too exhausted and sick to be embarrassed, but his face heated weakly all the same. He lolled his head forward, resting his chin on her (bare?) shoulder and opening his eyes. “Oh...” What the fuck is she wearing?!

There was a velvety chuckle to Shepard's left. Zaeed felt the embarrassment take full hold as he realized that Kasumi had heard his enthusiastic promise of oral thank-yous. “A grungy, half-dead bounty hunter. Sure is a lovely change of scenery from what Hock was promising you, Shep!” The thief quipped.

Zaeed snapped into clarity for a second. “Th' fuck were you doing near Donovan goddamn Hock. I sure as fuck hope you weren't in this, er...garb around that slimy bastard.”

“A favor for Kasumi. I had to look the part.” Shepard replied curtly. “I did not enjoy it. I did not enjoy him. More importantly, he's fucking dead now and can never attempt to touch me again.”

“Can I just say, I fuckin' love your combats with this dress, great goddamn combo. Ten out of ten.”

“I'm not hauling your heavy ass around in the fucking jungle in fucking pumps Massani. Now shut the fuck up. If we're spotted we are fucked.”

“Been a rough night, ey Surimi?” Zaeed asked Kasumi, his head falling off to the side of Shepard's shoulder as he ignored the barrage of f-bombs (just slurred enough for him to guess that the commander may be a bit into her cups).

Kasumi nodded, but what he could see of her hooded eyes looked sympathetic. “Be gentle.” She said quietly. “It has been a trying day, Zaeed. Shepard has been out of her element for the duration. And she might be a little tipsy. Just…just a little.”

“Got that fucking right.” Shepard snarled, coming up over the last hill. Zaeed was more than content to fall silent, propping his cheek up on her shoulder and watching her breasts rub and shift with vague interest. She could be his commander all she wanted, but at the end of the day it was nice to know she was still soft and female in at least a few senses. Hell, was she even his commander anymore?

“Sorry 'bout all the goddamn armor Shep. I'll bandage up your scrapes once we get to the Norm.” He mumbled the apology almost too quietly for her to hear. If we're even going to the Normandy.

Shepard shrugged, and Zaeed watched the side of her mouth curl up briefly in a grin. “I've had worse, old man.”

“Still, you shouldn't have to fucking carry me. I should be able to walk. That goddamn beam.” Zaeed groaned. He felt Shepard wince underneath him. “Hey, not like fucking that. I know why you did it, Shep. I'm no goddamn whiner. I've had plenty of time to yell at myself, I understand.”

“You hurt anywhere else, Massani?”

“My side. My legs are the main goddamn problem. Pretty sure they're fucked.” Zaeed grunted as Shepard carefully set him into a seat in the Kodiak. “Not a lot of food either, or clean water to drink. I thought you were a goddamn hallucination, Shep. I thought I was dead.”

Shepard hushed him as the shuttle took off. Zaeed noticed with tired interest that when she comm'ed Chakwas there was a tremor in her voice. That beautiful goddamn voice...

“We found him. I think he's going to be okay.”

...

Zaeed had never seen Shepard hover this much. Chakwas, the old fussbudget, had him stripped down to his smalls for her exam and Shepard was still in the med bay and in that fucking dress. At least Kasumi had headed back to her room with a view after making sure he was settled.

Zaeed heaved a sigh. “Shepard if you're going t--goddamn--going to stick around you really ought to change out of that number.” He gestured to the doctor with a flash of his old humor. “Pretty sure if Chakwas keeps rummaging around in my goddamn legs and ribs, fluids will splash. Be a shame to ruin--goddamn woman!” The mercenary flinched, clenching his fists reflexively when Chakwas literally scraped into his knee with some odd little instrument.

“Oh please Mr. Massani, you'll have to do better than that.” Chakwas chided, slathering medi-gel across his kneecap. Zaeed grunted, Shepard's nervous laugh washing over him.

“I know, I know. It's weird seeing me in this. I do kind of like it though, wearing the dress.” Shepard admitted, smoothing her hand down the side of the skirt. “It makes me feel pretty.” She continued with the characteristic honesty of a drunk.

“Y' don't need a goddamn hunk of material to make you pretty, Shep.” Zaeed blurted, almost biting his tongue in half as soon as the words escaped. “Guy like me now, you'd have to put me in six goddamn suits to come even close to fucking decent.” He scrambled to add, trying to play off his compliment.

Shepard's eyes widened slightly, her head cocking to the side. Zaeed swallowed hard. “Thanks, Zaeed.” She murmured.

Oh Christ, what fresh goddamn hell have I slammed myself into.

...

Zaeed hated being on bed rest. He had been ordered to stay in his bunk and regain his strength, and Chakwas' orders bore no disobedience. It had been a week of this shit, just letting his immune system work through whatever plant life had taken up valuable real estate in his lung space.

He must have cleaned Jessie six times today, bored to goddamn tears. In the middle of another knife-tossing contest with himself, there was a warning chime from his door. “Who dares disturb my goddamn solitude?” He asked loudly, pulling himself to his feet and keying the door open. Oh. It was Shepard. “You're a sight for sore goddamn eyes, make no mistake about that.” Zaeed grumbled, waving her in. “What brings you down to my humble little abode?”

He noticed after returning sulkily to his bed that she hadn't walked into the room at all. She was just camped out in the doorway. Zaeed took in the way she was wringing her hands, and raised an eyebrow.

“Shep?” She looked like she was about to go to pieces. He'd never seen her so pensive. Well actually, right after that goddamn fruit Alenko spouted his preachy Alliance bullshit at her on Horizon... “You alright? Something on your mind?”

“I uh. I wanted to apologize.” Shepard mumbled. Zaeed was thrown for a loop. Shit, the time on Zorya had been more than sufficient for him to get his fill of eating crow. Shepard rescuing him had been an apology and then some, so why...?

“Get in here.” The grizzled merc ordered, auto-locking the door behind her. Obediently Shepard took a half-step into the room and stood there, staring at the floor like a child in trouble. Zaeed got back to his feet with a strangled swear, making his way to her and grabbing her chin. “How dare you.” He snarled, watching her eyes light angrily. “Who is this, this timid goddamn mouse of a Shepard? You ought to be ripping me a new goddamn asshole, Commander. What's fucking happened to you?”

“I made a mistake!” Shepard exploded, jerking her chin out of his fingers with ease. “I shouldn't have abandoned you! It was wrong! And...And I'm sorry!” She all but yelled her apology in his face, her step forward making him take a wary step back. She seemed to deflate then, returning to staring at the floor. “I couldn't stop thinking about you. I couldn't stop worrying about you. Even when I tried. And I tried so fucking hard Massani. I know that to you, being marooned on a hostile planet by the 'great Commander Shepard' would be the ideal end. And I couldn't...I couldn't do it.” She wiped her eyes and sniffled quietly, surprising the fuck out of Zaeed when she muttered, “I couldn't get you out of my head. I missed your 'goddamns' and your 'fuckalls'. I missed your advice and your expertise. There's been a few situations that I could have used your input on while...while I left you to rot on a tropical rock.”

“Goddamn, Shep.” The mercenary was at a loss for words. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. How could you?” Shepard retorted. “I didn’t exactly announce that I appreciated your blood-soaked experience.”

“You goddamn missed me, though?” Zaeed asked incredulously. “I did not expect that.” He sat back down on his bunk, running a hand through his hair. “Not for a goddamn second.”

“Yeah, I missed you. I was at that stupid party with Kasumi and all I could think about was what you might say as far as the stuffy art on the walls, or the shit music and terrible company. I drank more than I should have and after that, well, you know the rest.” Shepard shrugged. “Kasumi didn’t try to stop me though. Also didn’t try to get me back into my armor. I think she just wanted to see if I’d actually do it.”

“Th’ hell would she have done if you were goddamn spotted?” Zaeed questioned, his stomach dropping out unpleasantly at the thought.

“She probably would have sent me out on a rampage. In that dress with my Claymore.” Shepard snorted. “Helluva’ fight, as you would say.”

“That’s goddamn outrageous and you know it. Fucking hell.” Zaeed hated the warm feeling he got in his chest from her using his terminology. “I can hear the headlines now, 'Commander Goddamn Shepard killed in a Blue Suns shootout, found in slinky black number.'”

“I want to be buried in that dress, Massani.” Shepard grinned at him. “Look, do you accept my apology or not?”

“Goddamn it, Shep, you got nothing to apologize for.” Zaeed protested. “If it'll make you stop though, yeah, alright? I accept it.”

“Okay good, because Garrus said if I kept pacing in the mess area he was going to throw me out of an airlock.” Shepard laughed and grabbed the merc's arm, an action that would have resulted in a broken nose for nearly anyone else. “C'mon, I finally got Gardner those new ingredients he's been hounding me for. Let's see how well the evil genius works.”

…

Rupert didn't necessarily outdo himself with higher-grade ingredients, but even Zaeed had to admit that the new fare was a bit better than his usual grub.

He also had to admit that maybe...maybe he saw Shepard a little differently after her apology. A lot differently.

Goddammit.

This whole business had started out harmless enough. Somewhere along the way though, things had gotten goddamn messy in his head. Mass relay. Suicide mission. 'Your Illusive Man can move a lot of credits.'

And then they hadn't died. On the suicide mission. He would be the first person to tell anyone that he specified in impossible operations, but that one had tipped the scales significantly as far as his credibility went.

He told himself that he stuck around afterwards because Shepard goddamn owed him. She had promised that the contract he'd picked up prior to being hired would be seen through. Didn't mean he wasn't surprised all the same when she'd approached him to ask about Zorya. “I've done something for nearly everyone else.”

She would listen to his stories while she compacted the trash, quiet mechanical whirring barely audible over the heavy rasp of his voice. He regaled her with an assortment of his nostalgic tales, his ‘helluva’ fights’ and cautionary warnings about how smoking killed. “Got a minute? You might learn something.”

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he’d started looking forward to her visits. He’d rattle on with just about any willing ear, so it was strange when he found himself holding on to better chunks of a story and thinking, ‘Shep will love that’. It was strange when he ended up beside her on more and more of her missions, him and Grunt of all aliens, bless both of that poor, conflicted Krogan’s hearts. Helluva’ alien, that bastard, even with his shiny peach skin. Zaeed was hardly one to talk about appearances though.

It became normal at some junction of their adventures that he would shout at the Commander to get down!, to force her into cover. She didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-preservation in her genetic makeup. He supposed being brought back from the goddamn dead would do that to you but according to Joker, Shepard had always been that way.

“She protects with her whole body, Zaeed. A soldier to the end.” Joker had been uncharacteristically serious when he said that, the pilot’s eyes set straight forward.

Massani had heard mutterings of the fact that Joker was a large part of why Shepard had wound up dead in the first place. He imagined that guilt could weigh heavy on a man, especially if the dead person you had on your conscience was rebuilt from the ground up as a goddamn science-y mishmash of Frankenstein’s Monster proportions.

Goddamn Cerberus.

Her focus was absolute when they were on fieldwork. She would have been a damn good merc back in the Suns, if it wasn’t for that goddamn morality she carried like a backpack full of emotional bricks. Every damn life she could spare, she did. She didn’t even seem to give a shit that it made her look impotent, spineless until she pulled rank.

He still respected her leadership, of course. He knew as well as the next man that they couldn’t just lop the head off of every Batarian slaver. Zaeed’s favorite missions were still the ones where they had no other option but to fight their way out. With a roaring, blood-soaked Krogan on one side and a swearing, shotgun-toting Commander on the other, he felt like they could take on the world. If Jack was with them instead of Grunt, Shep tended to try and be more level-headed. For the sake of the self-proclaimed ‘Psychotic Biotic’.

He’d never had a Krogan fall asleep on his shoulder before he’d met Shepard. Never faced a Thresher Maw, and on foot no less. Certainly never dealt with a goddamn Human-Reaper hybrid, that had been one for the PTSD nightmare library and make no goddamn mistake. Those huge, glowing eyes and massive grasping metal fingers hungrily clawing their way around the platform. The strange part was that the worst bit wasn’t even that giant monster.

It was when he and Jack had already made their jump to the Normandy and that last sketchy platform had plummeted into the darkness, leaving Shepard on the other side of a gap that seemed to yawn wider with every second that passed. And of course she’d jumped, like a goddamn lunatic, and caught the rim of the hull door with her goddamn fingertips.

Jack had frozen, the biotic exhausted and horrified into being paralyzed. They were already crowding Joker in the tiny area as-is, the glass-boned pilot raining bullets down on the Collectors that had followed them. Zaeed did the only thing he could do. What any sane man would do, faced with the notion of someone goddamn important to him dying.

He sacked up and grabbed Shepard’s arm.

For a panicky moment his fingers slid over her smooth hardcase armor, then he found a groove where her elbow joint was and bit down. Shepard clung as high on his own arm as she could, her gauntlet digging into the tattooed skin between his armor plating.

They hung there for a breathless second that seemed to last a goddamn eternity. Zaeed would swear he could feel her pulse thundering even through her armor. She just looked up at him, and it disturbed him on a deep, rarely-visited level to see how peaceful she was. She would die here if she needed to. If it meant saving their lives. You selfless bitch, he remembered thinking in irrational fury, rage giving his weary body the strength it needed to pull her up onto the loading area. “Not goddamn today, you’re not.” Was all he’d grated out, shoving her face against his chest and crushing her to him.

Grunt had given him a light (by Krogan standards, anyway) headbutt in thanks for saving his Battlemaster. “She has no equal.”

“You’re goddamn right about that.”

Twenty-something years of mercenary experience laid at her feet. His revenge plan was shot to pieces and that damn irrational fury of his reared its ugly head. He'd considered her important enough to save, whether she knew that or not was irrelevant and he wasn't about to goddamn tell her. The cold chill that ran down his spine from having the muzzle of her pistol pressed to his forehead had nothing to do with the actual temperature of the weapon. She hadn't even cocked the damn thing. He could have easily torn the gun from her slack grasp, turned it on her.

Cerberus may be damn good at bringing people back from the dead, but Zaeed had the feeling that the Illusive Man wasn't quite so onboard with Shepard once she'd announced she was saving humanity her way. If Massani (or anyone else for that matter) put two in her head, she'd stay goddamn dead.

Yet he didn't, even in a blind, seething rage. He'd ruminated on that a bit during his vacation on Zorya. The fact that he'd even thought that was an option made his guts seize once he'd cooled his heels for a few days. And when it was apparent that he was well and truly alone (or as alone as one could be on a planet populated by a two-bit sham of the hostile force he had started with Vido), the regret had set in goddamn beautifully. He hadn't thought it would end quite like this. After all, that handsome amount of credits from the Illusive Bastard didn't do him any good holed up in a damp, humid cave.

“Got a minute? You might learn something.”

She had missed him. Tense emotions warred in his mind. Just how much had she missed him? Enough that she needed to get goddamn smashed at a party and fly God only knew how far to get back to Zorya, so...how much did that equal out to?

He wasn't about to ask. Better not to press his luck on that one. It was probably a legendary moment in the 'Commander Shepard' book that she admitted to being wrong in the first place. Not that she'd actually been wrong, he had drawn a gun on her with the absolute intent to kill. Old habits died hard, old mercenaries died even harder. She should have abandoned him.

“I don't want you on my ship.” There had been a quaver in her voice. He'd mistaken it for fury back then. “You're a danger to the others, Massani.”

“Goddamn leave then!” He'd screamed at her, all piss and vinegar even as he fought to free himself from beneath the heavy metal. “Go on! Nobody fucking asked you to goddamn stay, Commander!”

“I'm not leaving you to fucking burn Massani, Jesus. Give me your hand.” She'd grappled with him for a moment, Zaeed stubbornly avoiding her grasp until she gave an exasperated huff of breath and just lifted the whole beam off of him like it was made of cardboard. “Give me your fucking hand, old man.”

“Fuck you, you...self-righteous, goddamn mechanical husk of a bitch!” The raw insult had rolled off his tongue and she had the grace to fold her arms across her chest instead of slugging him in the mouth like she should have. She had confided in him a deep fear that she may not even be the real Shepard, but some gruesome approximation of Commander Shepard cooked up by Cerberus to gain the trust of humanity. Zaeed rarely fought fair though. “Standing up there all high and damn mighty like you didn't just cost me twenty years of my goddamn life!” He knew spit was flying at this point but he was too enraged to care, turning onto his back. “Look at my fucking face, Shepard! This goddamn ugly face that I see every goddamn day in the mirror! He took everything from me! My life, my livelihood, my men--everything!” He jabbed a finger at his own face, at the scars and non-functional eye. “You expect me to let a man walk free as a goddamn bird after he mutilated me?!”

“I expect you to understand that I didn't intend to cost you your closure, but I'm not standing by and watching civilians burn to death if I can help it, Massani. If you don't know that by now I guess there's no helping you.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “If you had just been straightforward about this-”

“-I would have gotten some grand speech for my goddamn trouble.” Zaeed had replied bitterly, the pain in his legs and ribs settling into a searing throb. “You and I both know you wouldn't have helped me kill Vido.”

“Never underestimate what I would do to help my friends.” Shepard answered through gritted teeth, extending a hand yet again. “We can drop you off on Omega.”

“Like fuck you will. Get the hell away from me.”

When he refused to take her hand for the second time, she had retracted it and clenched her fists tightly. She had left without another word, marching back to the Kodiak and not sparing him so much as a last glance over her shoulder or her infamous 'I should go'.

He'd figured that was it. Staggering and half-walking away from the area as best as he could, his patchy memory reminded him of one of his old hidey-holes. Upon arrival he'd collapsed, his knee giving out and his side momentarily hurting worse than anything else. Goddamn, he was too old for this shit. Zaeed grimaced when he heard the faint whine of the Kodiak’s engines.

So that was it, then. All because he just had to go in all cloak and goddamn dagger. Nobody could know that he was Zaeed Massani, betrayed co-founder of the Blue Suns. Couldn’t have let her know. Nope. Too risky.

Zaeed thumped his forehead against the cave wall and groaned.

I’m a goddamn fool.

…

Kasumi tipped him off before Shepard actually got to his room and Massani knew he shouldn’t ruin the surprise. He tried to be nonchalant, laying on his back in his bunk and doing his best to seem bored. Not difficult, due to the fact that he was going stir goddamn crazy being a layabout.

Shepard keyed the door open and practically ran across the room to his bunk. “Massani!” She said excitedly, a datapad gripped tightly in her hands. “A contact came through! Guess who we’ve got a bead on?”

Zaeed sat up slowly, took the datapad from her just as slow. Her smile began to fade while he tapped at the screen, the mercenary silently absorbing the new information about his target. “You…” Zaeed was at a loss for words yet again. His palms were sweating, adrenaline spiking because here it was, he hadn’t missed out on his revenge after all. Just delayed it a bit. “I…dammit woman, come here.” He said finally, standing up and pulling her into a tight embrace. “You goddamn clever little bitch.” He muttered affectionately, startled when she relaxed in his arms and made no move to leave. He cleared his throat, then gingerly rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Thank you for not giving up on me. Even when you tried to.” The words felt strange. This whole scenario felt strange.

“Someone has to make sure you’re not left to your own devices. It’s a big galaxy, but I don’t know if it’s big enough to contain you.” Shepard pulled back, smiled up at him and-

Oh no, oh goddamn no. Absolutely not. Zaeed was ashamed of himself for even considering that. What the hell was wrong with him? She’d just given him the keys to the goddamn castle and yet his greedy ass wanted the goddamn impossible. Zaeed stepped back, clearing his throat again. “Am I going alone, Commander?” Something in his chest pulled tight when he saw a bit of the excitement ebb out of her.

“I wanted to go with you, but…I mean, I can understand if you’d like to go in by yourself this time.”

“As if it would be a helluva’ fight without Commander Goddamn Shepard.” Zaeed replied before he could think, a stupid smirk quirking his mouth up. Her smile returned full-force and he decided that no matter what happened, that was important to him. “Any goddamn bleeding-heart collateral I have to worry about this time, Shep?”

…

Never underestimate what I would do for my friends.

They stormed into Vido’s shitty little emergency bunker (these places all looked the goddamn same after a little while) and before he could move, Shepard had her shotgun to his chest. “Remember us, Santiago?” She asked coldly.

Zaeed relished the fear in the other man’s eyes, the terrified confusion that slowly settled into recognition. “Should have known.” Vido snarled. His fingers twitched over the gun on his hip.

“You’re goddamn right you should have.” Spoiling for his revenge after he’d been cheated out of it last time, Zaeed snapped a fresh heat sink into his pistol and leveled the weapon at Vido’s head.

“Killing me isn’t going to fix anything, Zaeed. It’ll just make the Suns turn on each other. You really want to burn down everything that we built together?” Vido sounded incredulous.

“I’ve seen what your leadership made my men into already.” Zaeed prodded the muzzle of the pistol into Vido’s face, pressing it none-too-gently against the socket of his right eye. “They’re little better than goddamn guns for hire, you brainless fuck. Some of ‘em too young and stupid to be in charge of pulling a trigger.”

“I had to take care of the trash. It left our numbers weaker, even with the Batarians.” Vido’s eyes narrowed. “You and your fucking slaver hangups. If you weren’t such a bleeding-heart shitbag, I wouldn’t have had to put you--”

“I’m not ever going to be goddamn willing to deal in slavery, especially entire shipments of little goddamn kids!” Zaeed roared at the younger man, silencing him. “You’re paying for every goddamn shipment you ever sent through, with your life and the lives of the men you had stationed outside. You’re paying for what you did to me. And you’re paying for what you’ve done to the once-proud Suns.” Zaeed smiled then, a nasty, bone-chilling grin. “I’ll see you in hell, Vido.”

Vido had always been the faster gunman of the two of them. The bastard had his pistol raised and pressed point-blank to the Commander’s stomach before Zaeed could finish pulling the trigger on his own gun.

Their almost-synchronized shots rang in Zaeed’s ears and Shepard made a strangled noise. Vido tipped back over the bunk, his eyes rolled up in his head. His pistol dropped from his limp fingers and clattered onto the concrete floor. Shepard fell to one knee.

Never underestimate what I would do for my friends.

Zaeed wanted to scream. His throat went dry as a bone, his brain already calculating how quickly the Kodiak could make the trip. What the hell will Garrus say? He still had some medigel, maybe he could-

Shepard grunted and got back to her feet. “Ugh, knocked the wind out of me for a second. That’s gonna’ leave a bruise.” She grimaced, briskly dusting off the plating over her stomach before turning to the mercenary. “Alright, let’s-”

Zaeed jerked his pistol down into its holster, swept her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to her mouth. Greed be fucked, propriety be fucked. “What the fuck, woman?” He growled, immensely gratified by the way she tucked herself into his chest. “Christ, I was halfway to slinging you over my goddamn shoulder and hightailing it back to the Kodiak. You know damn well your nanny Garrus would tear me six new holes if something happened to you.”

“Didn’t you pay attention to all those upgrades I worked so hard to get?” She asked, lacing her fingers shyly through his own. “Lots of interesting specifications.”

“All I care about is the fact that your insides stayed where they goddamn belong.” Zaeed had never seen her so kittenish, she was practically kneading his armor. “Thought…hell, I thought I’d lost you for a second.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “It’ll take a lot more than that peashooter to stop me.”

“Goddamn right.” Zaeed realized that he’d put them in an incredibly compromising position with his idiotic emotions. “Look, Shep, I’m uh. I’m not exactly sure what you’re looking for in a…partner. I know you and Alenko had something, because I doubt you’d let just any goddamn punk upbraid you. I’m not a young man, not as spry as I used to be.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I’ve still got a few years in the tank, if you’re…er, interested.”

Shepard ducked her face into his chest and Zaeed saw her shoulders shake. His stomach dropped out. Had he disgusted her? Was he taking advantage of her at a moment of weakness? Christ, getting shot in the gut was still bound to bring back some unpleasant memories, better plating or no. But after a second he heard a stifled snort. She was laughing at him, the cheeky little bitch. “I mean, if you think you’ll be able to fend off the Alzheimer’s long enough for me to get some use out of you. I’d hate to have to visit you at the old folks home for date night.” She teased.

Zaeed found himself smiling without meaning to, gently knuckling the side of her head. “Goddamn lucky man, I am. Spending my last fragile years with an exciting young thing like yourself. You’ll have to go easy on me. My hips are a bit frail.” He squinted. “Also who the hell are you? I’ve forgotten my goddamn spectacles.”

Her laugh was delighted and it sent a warm shiver down his spine. Like the first, glorious taste of whiskey after a long tour away from Omega. He could tell he was in for a helluva’ time.

…

She was much younger than him, but it was good to know he still had it. He had promised to eat her out, hadn’t he?

He wasn’t sure what kind of action she’d gotten from Alenko. Kid was a biotic, so he probably had a few tricks up his sleeve. But judging from the way she was whimpering and squirming against his mouth, Zaeed got the feeling he didn’t need to worry too much. Her fingers dug into his short-cropped hair, making him hum softly.

This is goddamn perfect.

Zaeed paused, propping himself up to carefully kiss the bruise on her stomach. “You’re not taking another bullet for me ever again, got it?” He asked seriously, meeting her eyes. “I’m goddamn firm on this one, Shep. I’m not one foot in the grave but I’m sure as hell ahead of you on the list. So please.” He rested his forehead there for a minute, unable to maintain eye contact. “You’d better be goddamn careful from here on out.”

“I will be. I promise.” She said softly, still kitten-kneading on his scalp. Zaeed ducked back down to finish what he’d started, fingers pressing into her beneath his hungry tongue. He loved the way she rolled and bucked her hips like she couldn’t get enough of him. Scarred, grizzled bastard that he was, every twitch and whine was absolutely stroking his ego.

“Goddamn come for me, Shep.” He snarled finally, feeling her quiver. “You’d best goddamn come, hear me? Come on my mouth, because I’m not putting my cock in you until you do. Come for me, come for me-” Shepard sobbed out, working her hips up at him and then going totally still as she came. Zaeed greedily devoured her, the high-pitched noises that she offered him almost as delicious as her taste. Her hands trembled in his hair and he chuckled when she yanked on a handful. “You alright up there, Shep?”

“He asks, like he didn’t just give me the best oral I’ve ever had.” Shepard was still panting for breath, smiling that goddamn smile.

Zaeed was sure his own grin was outright insufferable. “Picked up a few tricks here and there. You still up for round two?”

“Give it your best shot, old man.”

“I goddamn intend to.” Zaeed languidly crawled up over her, pressing kisses here and there on the way to her mouth. “Helluva’ woman, you are.” He said quietly, feeling almost reverent as he kissed the hollow of her throat. “Putting up with an old merc like me. Hell, coming back for an old merc like me. I’m goddamn honored, Shep.”

She cupped his face and pressed their foreheads together, searching his eyes. Zaeed glanced away, clearing his throat, but she just turned his head gently. “Don’t hide from me, Massani.”

“Love it when you’re forceful, Commander.” He teased, getting her to smile again. The first lazy brush of his cock over her cunt had her closing her eyes and relaxing underneath him. Her hands slid to his shoulders, fingers resting on the tattooed skin while he slowly pushed the head of his cock into her. Zaeed meant to hum again but it came out as a growl and she trembled all over at the sound. “Goddamn Christ, Shep, not hurting you right?” He managed to ask.

Her response was a growl of her own, her fingernails raking over his arm. “More.” She demanded and he found himself unable to do anything but obey.

“Yes ma’am.”

He would never forget their first time together. Every touch, every taste was burned into his memory. She kept gently caressing the scarred side of his face, like she was trying to remind him that it didn’t matter, she didn’t care. Zaeed had never really been one for meaningful sex before he’d had half his goddamn face blown off, even less so after he’d healed. For obvious reasons. So it was…odd, to be alright with someone touching that part of him. Especially while they were being intimate.

“It’s not goddamn fair that you’re so good to me.” He grunted, brushing the hair out of her eyes and cupping the back of her neck to press their foreheads together (albeit clumsily, this was new territory). Her eyes were half-lidded, hazy with pleasure that sent a hot wave of satisfaction down his spine. He was doing well, her little sighs and moans of his name (his name!) encouraging him to continue, “That’s right, Shep, that’s right.” He rasped, not sure if he was smiling or smirking and not much caring either way. “I’m goddamn close, so if you’re planning on getting off again you’d better-”

Her teeth sank into the Suns tattoo on his neck, hard enough to break the skin. Zaeed faltered, legitimately embarrassed by the pitch of the noise he made. His hips crushed down to slot with her own and she keened through her teeth, her inner walls gripping his cock.

“You wicked little bitch.” He gasped when he trusted his voice again, resting his forehead against her shoulder as she came with a scream muffled by the skin of his neck. “I love you.”

She responded by digging her fingers into his spine and taking him as deep as she could, biting and licking feverishly at the tattoo on his neck. “Love you--too-” She panted, and Zaeed closed his eyes and surrendered to her.

When he could feel his extremities again, Zaeed rolled onto his back. His arms were absolutely screaming at him and he got the feeling his back would not be far behind. It had been years since he could attribute the soreness to something good, though. She shifted to her side, the two of them laying in companionable breathlessness.

“God damn.” She announced with authority, making him burst out laughing. “Guess you might have a few good years left in you after all.”

“I aim to please, Shep. Afraid my recovery time is going to disappoint.” Zaeed stretched his arms over his head, groaning quietly. “Goddamn worth every ache.” He murmured, more content than he could remember being in ages.

She tucked herself into his side after a moment, tugging her sheet up over the two of them. “Thank you.” The words were mumbled against his chest so softly he almost missed them.

“For goddamn what, Shep?”

“Forgiving me.” She twiddled her fingers and refused to meet his eyes. “I…I know I already apologized, but…”

“It’s a goddamn shit gig, being the savior of humanity. Can’t do hardly anything without some goddamn asshole judging you for it. Can’t maroon some insubordinate, belligerent old fuck on a hostile planet without feeling like a bad person for doing it.” Zaeed tapped the bridge of her nose. “I’ve had much worse done to me by men who I’ve known for goddamn decades longer than you, Shep. You’ll have to try harder the next time you want to get rid of me.” He eased an arm around her shoulders, settling her in comfortably beside him. “So, Big Goddamn Hero, what’s next on your Reaper to-do list?”

#zaeed massani #fem!Shep #female commander shepard #Mass Effect #Mass Effect 2 #video games #zaeed massani smut #alternative route #The Price Of Revenge #loyalty mission #mass effect fanfiction #I miss Robin Sachs #goddamns as far as the eye can see #N7 Day #Paragon!Shepard #(mostly) #We're A Team Massani: The Fanfiction #Mass Effect 2 DLC: The Price Of Revenge #thirst party saturday #feels #enjoy! #Zaeed Massani/Fem!Shep #Zaeed x Shepard #Zaeed/Shepard

[maculategiraffe]

meet nate

so @theragnarokd sent me a random prompt a couple weeks back (which I post here with permission: ”subby person exhausted, lying on couch half-asleep, while dommy person putters around the house getting shit done”) and it’s been kind of itching my mind ever since and here’s what finally popped out: another Scene From An Alternate Universe Version Of the How Life Goes On The Way It Does Universe.  In this case, an alternate universe in which Nora was the one holding Shaun in the Vault, and therefore died, and Nate survived.

(And... did not come to the same conclusion Nora did, regarding the synths all being his children. :P)

Content notes: M/M, light D/s, grief, light xenophobia, internalized objectification, light Brotherhood of Steel.  Mostly domestic fluff.  No sex.  Kisses, though.

"Lie down."

Danse doesn't hesitate. Orders are orders, and he knows the tone of Nate's voice that makes them orders, not instructions or suggestions. Suggestions are open to counter-suggestions ("I can help"), instructions allow for a certain degree of respectful debate ("I'm not tired"), but the only appropriate response to an order is prompt obedience. He lies down on the couch, face down, folds an arm under his cheek.

"Good," says Nate, and it isn't that he ever speaks coldly to Danse-- he doesn't, Danse thinks it would strike him to the heart if he did, like the shard of evil mirror-glass in the fairy tale he once heard Nate telling Shaun, darkening his vision and freezing him from the inside out-- but there's an especial, sweet, pronounced warmth to his voice sometimes, when he says Good.  As if he's praising not only Danse's obedience, but Danse himself. As if he's considered him deeply, in many moments and from many angles, and has come to the considered and decisive conclusion that Danse is good.

It would make Danse question Nate's judgement, if Danse hadn't likewise observed Nate, for a long time and carefully.

The word of praise would have been enough to warm him, but Nate leans down and kisses him, too, at the corner of his eye, before moving over to the tool bench and beginning the work of sorting the day's haul, into piles of things to sell, things to keep and modify, and things to scrap and use for parts.

The kiss is enough, for now, to soothe Danse's nagging desire to be useful, to prove himself worthy of Nate's time and care. He is tired, so it's good he didn't try to tell Nate he wasn't. Nate wants him to rest, so he will.

It gives him a vertiginous little shiver, sometimes, to think that he ever dared give Nate orders. He couldn't have known, then, what he was, and he didn't yet know Nate very well, either. He knew Nate was strong and skilled, a former soldier for the United States of America, a good fighter and tactician and a definite asset to the Brotherhood. He knew Nate was grieving the loss of his wife, and coolly determined to find his missing child at any cost necessary.

But he hadn't yet seen Nate's face when he returned from the Institute, drawn and pale and seeming years older than when he'd stepped onto the relay platform and vanished in a blinding flash of blue light.

And he hadn't seen Elder Maxson's face-- the one Danse used to look to, to know that he was good, that he was both valuable and valued-- turn cold and revolted at the sight of Danse, heard his disgusted voice ordering Nate to destroy the abomination that was Danse or watch Maxson do it himself-- and seen Nate's eyes flash, his face go bright with a white-hot anger Danse had never seen in him before, and hasn't since.

Danse was ready to die in that moment, at Maxson's hand, his last sight on earth that of Nate's beautiful rage on his behalf, but Nate stepped in front of him, shielding Danse's constructed, artificial body with his own human one.

You can sure fuckin' try, he said to Maxson, silky-calm with fury.  If you think that's gonna play out well for you, Arthur. Or your little army, either.

Maxson's face, bewildered and furious, and then-- defeated.

Danse tried to tell Nate, after Maxson was gone, spitting threats and condemnation behind him, to leave.  Leave me, thank you, I'll never forget this, but Nate said no, said You're coming with me, the first order he ever gave Danse. Human to synth, Danse thought then: Nate claiming his property, the piece of forbidden technology he'd saved from destruction. He obeyed.

For a long time, Nate didn't make it very clear what he wanted with his dubious prize. He brought Danse home to Sanctuary Hills, to the house he'd once shared with his wife and child, and installed Danse in the master bedroom, Nate himself sleeping on a salvaged bed in what had once been his son's nursery. Told everyone else there-- Colonel Garvey of the Minutemen, Mr. and Mrs. Long, Mr. Sturges, Ms. Murphy, Codsworth the still-functioning prewar Mr. Handy housekeeping robot, and the other settlers and vagabonds who had taken up residence in Sanctuary Hills-- that Danse was a synth, and his best friend, and invited them all to take it up with him if there were any problem. When Mrs. Long expressed anger, and worry that Danse might murder them all in their beds, Nate said, calmly and not unkindly, that if she was that worried, he'd be happy to find her somewhere else safe to live. She gaped at him, then subsided.

She still doesn't talk to Danse, keeps her distance, and so does her husband, but Ms. Murphy is affectionate with him, calling him kiddo and hon, and Mr. Sturges and Colonel Garvey both treat him with an easy friendliness, as if it doesn't matter what he is, other than Nate's.

Nate kept taking him out on missions, too, saying his gun was too valuable not to. He didn't trust anyone else to watch his back, he said. Not the way he trusted Danse. And it's true, Danse would rather die than let Nate down, and so far he hasn't done either.

Now, along with the faint thump and clatter of his work, comes the sound of Nate singing. He often sings while he works, and Danse loves to hear his warm, dark, rich voice. Songs from Diamond City Radio, some of them, that Danse has heard before, and then others he hasn't. Some of them in other languages, German and French and Latin-- Nate says he was in the "choir" at his prewar church, a group of volunteers who practiced singing on Wednesdays, and then sang in front of the church on Sunday mornings, and the night before Christmas. Nate knows some of the songs in English and the other language, both.  Adeste fideles, laeti, triumphantes: O come, all ye faithful, joyful, and triumphant. Es ist ein Ros entsprungen, Aus einer Wurzel zart: Lo, how a rose e'er blooming, from tender stem hath sprung.

The one he's singing now is one of the church songs, and it's in English.

Come down, O love divine. Seek thou this soul of mine. And visit it with thine own ardor glowing.

Danse says, "Nate?"

He tried Paladin, just once, and saw Nate's face darken; he'd had to plead with Nate not to cut ties with the Brotherhood altogether, not for me, please, not after everything we've worked so hard to accomplish. Then he tried sir, and Nate said, Danse, buddy, I don't outrank you, and Mr. Bowman sounded ridiculous even inside his own head, so he started saying Nate.

Nate stops singing, and says, "What's up, beautiful?"

Nate calls him all kinds of things now.  Danse, sometimes, still, and sometimes Saul, and then a collection of silly, tender names:  baby doll, honey lamb, sweetheart, gorgeous, sugar, darlin'. Beautiful.

He comes over and kneels down beside the couch where Danse is obediently lying still. Runs a hand over Danse's short hair, against the nap of it, sending a shiver through him.

"Was I singing too loud, baby?" he asks. "Keeping you awake?"

"I'm not sleepy," says Danse, smiling into his arm. "And I like you to sing."

"What do you need, then?" Nate's still stroking his hair, gently and rhythmically, as if he's a domestic cat. "Little attention, huh? Feeling a little bit lonesome over here all by yourself?"

They're rhetorical questions, so Danse doesn't have to answer, especially since Nate's already running fingernails lightly down his back, scratching at the short bristles of hair at the nape of his neck, and then cupping the neck itself to massage the muscles there with his strong hand.

"You did good out there," Nate says, in that warm voice, warm as a blanket laid over him, which Nate will probably do in a bit. "You always do good. Glad you decided to come with. But I want you to try to sleep a little now, sugar. We're still playing catch-up, from your bad night. I'll wake you up when dinner's ready."

"I can help with dinner," Danse suggests, and Nate says, "Thanks, darlin', but no thanks. I'll get Shaun to come in and help me. Little father-son kitchen bonding. Gotta teach the kid how to handle a spatula, you know. Every growing boy--"

He breaks off mid-joke. Danse heard it, too, the word growing. They don't think Shaun is. And there's Danse, who probably won't be getting noticeably older, himself. The time may come when people take Danse for Nate's son, and Shaun for Danse's.

But it's easier to talk about it in the dark, tucked up in the same bed Nate used to share with Nora (he says she would've liked Danse, that he would've liked her too, and on her birthday and the day the bombs fell they go to her grave, near Vault 111, and Nate kneels down and cries and talks to her, about everything that's been happening, and then he says, "Let light perpetual shine upon her," and gets up, and they go home), so they don't say anything right now. Nate kisses him again, lips lingering on the tender skin just behind Danse's ear.

"Be a good boy, now," he says, sweetly enough that Danse knows it's not really in question whether he's a-- whether he's good. (He loves, blushingly, to hear Nate call him good boy, but it's just the slightest bridge too far to think of himself that way.) "Get in a couple hours' nap, and then after we eat, we can have some family game time before we all hit the hay. Blast Radius, checkers, maybe some Dictionary? Then, once Shaun's asleep--"

He tweaks Danse's ear, just a bit, and Danse smiles and squirms a little, and Nate stands up, brushes another quick caress over his hair, and walks away, singing again,

O comforter, draw near. Within my heart appear. And kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing.

#fiction #how life goes on the way it does #nate bowman #paladin danse #religion #a little bit #fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic

[theimmortallabyrinth]

Turn 9.5 - Inevitable Ends

( What’s this? A rushed chapter, months late?

Something strange must be going on. Hang on, folks. We’re coming up on round 10. A major milestone. Sounds like a good excuse to mix things up a bit, methinks. )

------Group 3------ Rhapsodos vs Ace

Rhapsodos accepted the weapon with a frown. He wouldn’t say it aloud and let Ace know he was weakened, but he was already almost out of mana from fighting earlier. Construct, however, recognized the face, and the unspoken complaint. “You’re my best student, James. I trust you can handle yourself, whatever the choice may be.” 

“Well that’s real fuckin’ simple," Ace spoke before Rhapsodos had the chance. "I'm not about to challenge Construct, with or without a teammate. Sorry James my boy, but I gotta ki-” 

Ace stumbled back, a kick to the gut catching him by surprise as he tried to draw a card. Rhapsodos had been ready, and he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. The fight was on. 

“Well now, maybe this’ll be fun after all?” Ace grinned. He watched as Rhapsodos leveled his blade, readying to fight. Ace’s hand slipped into his jacket. “Let’s see if as good as Wayland seems to think you...”

Both fighters paused as a deep rumble sounded from all around them. Stone cracked and shifted as the labyrinth came to life. It was moving.

“Disappointing,” Construct spoke as the walls rumbled around them. The ceiling began to fall, beams of sunlight stretching in where it opened to reveal sky above. Construct spoke as he effortlessly sidestepped falling stones, watching the others desperately do the same. “The rules have just changed, gentlemen. Time has slowly but surely ticked away. The labyrinth grows impatient.”

A few second later, the rumbling stopped. The stone of the walls lay crumbled in a circle around the three, the ceiling at their feet. They found themselves atop a green hill, standing in a pile of rubble with the sun shining brightly ahead. 

The labyrinth had fallen away to reveal something new. 

The tapping of metal recaptured their attention. Ace and Rhapsodos looked to see Construct tapping a blade against the ground. With he free hand he tossed rewards to the two, who quickly caught them. 

“It will harm any person as if they were mortal,” Construct spoke as Rhapsodos looked over the small knife. “A stab in the heart will kill even a god. Assuming you live long enough to get that close.”

His attention turned to Ace, who gazed down at the 3 bullets in his hand. “They’ll pass through any armor, any cover. Anything that stands in the way of a target. Don’t waste them.”

Rhapsodos looked up from his reward. “Why give us these? I thought we had to fight?”

“You were, and you still may,” Construct answered. “But the rules have just changed. You see that?” he pointed past them. Far in the distance, a beam of light cut down from the sky to touch the ground. 

“That is the end,” Construct spoke. “The walls have fallen away. The labyrinth is open.”

Ace looked at him skeptically. “Buuuuut?” 

“But all the beasts and horrors are free. Every single obstacle and enemy that hid in the labyrinth is coming for all of you. And in... say... about one minute, I’ll be joining them,” Construct finished. “Good luck.”

James and Jensen exchanged a glance. Things had just changed.

------Group 3.5------ Plague - Harlequin

Plague and Harlequin thought for a moment. Fighting giant monsters wasn’t exactly why they’d come, but it could be enjoyable.

Before the pair could answer the hunters, though, something happened. A muffled rumble, far away through the trees.

Harlequin jumped to the ready, a grin on her face, prepared to fight. “Is that the monster?” she asked.

The blue hunter let out a sigh. “Heck,” he cured. “I thought we had more time.”

There was little sign of the labyrinth changing in the jungle, but the hunters seemed to know. The red one stood, shouldering his weapon. “Yep, sounds like the walls just came down.”

Geir looked to the confused pair of labyrinth-goers. “Rule change, folks. You’re no longer hunting, you’re being hunted. You can’t see it from down here but...” he pointed into the woods, “...somewhere off thataway is a big glowy light.”

“The exit,” Kaia added.

Geir nodded in agreement. “Mhmm. It just got a lot easier to reach. But also a whole lot more dangerous.”

“Oh ho ho!” Plague chuckled, cheerfully grinning behind his mask. “How lovely.”

------Group 6 & Group 7------ Israfela - Warden - Null & Ranger - Titan

‘I’m not suggesting anything rash,’ the voice added, ‘but please, be wary. Your friends may not be as friendly as you think they are... Particularly the snake among you.’

Israfela didn’t startle. She stood silent, listening. Finally she replied. ‘You state the obvious. And you seem to think I value my life and safety above others. I’ll not feed into distrust, nor will I turn on anyone to save myself. Death here is no threat to me. If I die, I will return in another group... And I am certain at least ONE other in this group will not break his promise till the girl is found.’ 

“Winged one.”

The insistent voice caught her attention. She looked to the paladin.

“The cathedral?” Warden asked. He looked to the others. “Objections? The castle is the straightest path to the girl, but as our companion has stated, there are many paths within a labyrinth. This may be the more cautious choice,” he said, gesturing to Null. The spell-thief didn’t look any less displeased than usual. Ranger and Titan seemed to be content with the plan, though.

She hesitated for a moment, and looked to the sky. "No objections.” 

The towering knight stepped to the front. “Good. Then we continue to the cathedral,” Titan declared. The rest of the group followed his heavy footsteps as they set off towards the rotating bridge.

“I’ll watch from the skies. I’d enjoy a chance to fly again, if only for a moment,” Israfela said, quickly launching from the stone path. Someone called out to be careful, but that wasn’t something she needed to be told. 

She took a brief moment to simply appreciate the feeling as she soared higher, wings stretching wide. The cramps halls of the labyrinth weren’t something she would ever grow to love. With nothing but the sight of sun-lit clouds and the sound of wind in her ears, it was a welcome moment of peace as well.

But there was still work to be done. 

Coming to the crest of her ascent, she slowed and dropped, pulling her wings in close for a moment before leveling out to float lazily on the wind. The group far below her were safe as they neared the turning bridge. She cast a glance away from them to the cathedral ahead. Towering spires and magnificent archways stretched into the sky, the perpetually-setting sun lighting them in beautiful gold.

And then she heard it.

Even over the rush of wind, the heavy crash of thunder was clear. She felt it down to her bones as her allies pulled the lever for the bridge. It was as if the entire world cracked and shifted in response. Then the sun began to set.

‘On your left.’

Israfela turned to look. Wings pulled together just in time as an arrow larger than she was tall struck her. It bent against her wings, throwing her backwards. She didn’t have time to catch her bearings before another hit. Then another. 

She tumbled through the air, wrapped safely within her wings. Through the gaps she saw it; thousands of arrows filled the sky, blotting out the fading sunlight. She heard yelling and smelled the stench of blood on the air. 

Her wings snapped open as she fell below the volley, shifting her path in an instant to race alongside the stretching bridges. A golden dome of light stood in the distance among a horde of the dead. Its surface cracked like glass under the onslaught of arrows and the pounding of rusted weapons. Hundreds more crawled up the supports of the bridge, climbing out of the fog below like roaches.

A blast of flame roared out to meet enemies as the shield fell and the horde rushed in. A bolt of red lightning struck somewhere in the mass. 

The cry of battle was deafening.

Flying low, Israfela strafed the side of the massive stone bridge. Her wings gouged into the side, cutting down masses of undead as they climbed. The voice in her head kept her inches from the arrows crashing around her.

She cut her path back up before pulling her wings close once again to drop to the surface of the bridge. She landed among a pile of living corpses, meeting armor and weapons both in a deafening clash of metal on metal. Blood sprayed as her wings rushed open. A spin cleared a circle around her, leaving only blood and pieces. Arrows beat like hail against the set of wings she held above her.

For the first time she had a clear look at the foes around her. Rotted creatures of all sizes crashed around her, a tangle of weapons and withered limbs clawing over one another to reach the bursts of fire that roared not far from her. Armored giants waded through the smaller undead like water as they thundered across the bridge. 

One of the giants toppled, it’s leg parting from its body somewhere below the knee. A spray of sparks shot up near the severed leg, an explosion throwing undead knights from the bridge. 

A booming voice sounded not far away. “Push to the cathedral!” Titan roared. He came into view swathed in flame as jets pushed him up and into the tumbling giant. Israfela pushed the undead back, lashing out with wings as the giant fell into the crowd between her and her allies. 

Titan stood, smoldering in the dented chest of the giant. A path carved by the fallen undead through its smaller brethren. In an instant, the golden paladin joined the burning knight. He clutched a talisman in his hand, his other arm hanging limp and bloody at his side. He lept down and rushed to the cover of Israfela’s wings. He uttered a prayer and the oncoming wave of undead crumpled. 

“Move!” he ordered. 

Israfela cast a single glance back before obeying. The spell-thief and the hero weren’t coming. The massive cathedral doors loomed just ahead.

Thundering steps signaled as Titan caught up to them, then passed. Blue jets joined in with the flames covering him as he gained speed one more time. The burning knight barreled through what remained of the forces ahead of them and into the towering double doors.

More undead pulled themselves over the edge of the bridge by the second, their numbers seemingly endless. Darkness fell over the area as the sun finally fell below the horizon. The bridge rocked as something larger moved nearby. 

‘Time to go,’ the voice warned in Israfela’s mind.

She gripped the back of Warden’s armor. “Hold on,” she said. Arrows crashed around them as Israfela’s wings dropped and, in a single powerful push, launched them forward. Titan held the door, clearing straggling undead as the two survivors rushed into the safety of the cathedral. He slammed the doors behind him as he hurried inside to join them.

“Sanctuary...” Warden spoke quietly in the silence of the cathedral. The sudden pounding of fists and iron against the door ruined his hopes of peace. Titan’s shoulder crashed into the door as it began to open. 

“They’ve not yet given up the hunt,” Titan said, bracing the door closed. The noise outside grew louder. The floor shook as whatever had come with the sunset moved closer. A crash against the door knocked the burning Titan back a few feet before he braced again. “We cannot stay here!”

“Go. Find a path. Faith will take these wounds from me,” Warden said to the woman looking after him. He gave her a pat on the shoulder before he began a prayer.

Israfela stood. The only light in the cathedral was cast the undying flame covering Titan. A parting gift from the spell-thief, she reasoned. As she looked over the massive room ahead of them, she didn’t need much light to realize it wasn’t what they’d hoped.

The floor around them was marble, white and polished. Massive columns stretched high into the black above them, the bases of the columns marking the edge of a sunken area in the floor which seemed to take up all but the edges of the massive room, reaching into the blackness further in.

In that sunken pool, still and undisturbed in the dim light of the fire, rested a sea of crimson blood.

“Blood...” Warden commented. Israfela startled for the first time as the man walked up behind her. As if brought to life by the noise, the room shook. Far at the back of the room, past the lake of blood, a crack of light appeared high above. With a crash of rocks falling into water, the crack expanded, breaking open and allowing sunlight to pour through. It lit the room, flecks of light catching the tops of ripples and waves in the crimson lake as the blood started to flow towards the opening. It feel with a roar, a waterfall of red pouring out from the cathedral into a jungle below. 

“We’re atop a mountain,” Israfela realized. “How?”

Behind them, death pounded at the doors. Ahead, far in the distance, a beam of light touched down to earth, lighting their objective. 

The way forward was open.

------JUGGERNAUT------

“Darkness,” Juggernaut chuckled. “We’ll I never been afraid of the dark anyways. Why the hell not.”

No sooner had he spoke than the giant stone door creaked and began to slide open. Juggernaut watched as the doorway widened, utter darkness waited inside. Like an empty chasm, no light even seemed to touch inside the doorway.

Suddenly it all rushed out like a flood. Before he could even move, Juggernaut was engulfed in black. the world around him vanished, the light from his suit vanishing into the heavy abyss. He felt for the wall, but couldn’t find it. All that existed was himself and the dim glow of his hud inside his helmet.

“Fuck that’s dark,” he cursed.

Suddenly a single point of light appeared, far in the distance. It spread upwards, a beacon into a sky that didn’t exist. It was the only way to go.

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

( WAR HAS CHANGED.

This thing has been inactive for far too long. It’s time for a kick in the pants. The Round Ten special. Everything is changing here, but I promise it’ll still be fun. Just hang on until round ten and I’ll explain everything...

No choices for now, but don’t worry, they’re coming. )

---Group 3------ Rhapsodos - Ace  

---Group 3.5------ Plague - Harlequin

---Group 6 & Group 7------ Israfela - Warden - & Titan

---JUGGERNAUT------

#9.5 #Turn 9.5