more meth snake au (read w caution this could hurt maybe)

we left off with ace having ideas!! basically he was like "if snake likes booze that much what if i find somefin stronga" (his speech is fun to write sorry). ace is a guy who knows a guy whos cousins dogs friends hair salonists grocer sells drugs and he buys(eh..) a bit of meth

i think ace would pull snake aside and basically lie through his teeth like "just one time wont kill yah buddy" "sures i done this before. lookit me! i turned out fine" "juust one time" and snake cant rrly say no so yeah down the hatch it goes (idk what kinda meth it would be yet, its up to interpretation) and well one time turns into two snd two to three three to four four to BEGGING for more meth

basically ace is using meth to control snake.. and it works very well lol. no one else in the gang knows for awhile (he def planned on doing the same to them) even when snake starts getting aggressive (to the gang and to victims), or when he stars scratching like crazy, even when he kinda just stops talking to them (excluding ace obvs) -GRUBBER is the first to realize!! AFTER snake starts convulsing on the floor bc ace gave him a bit to much "pbbbht" "pff whaddya mean? snakes fine he dont need no hospital" newsflash yes he did and after a lot of convincing they took him and the doctors called them heros bc snake almost died! shock all around everyone's a lil emotionally scarred

anyway snakes fine hes out thehospital and hes okay! the end :)

jk, hes back to begging ace for more meth. but surely ace learned by now? nope, he gives snake more and its back to the hospital. NOW he knows better? again no he plans to give snake more meth when he gets out but now the gang knows and theyre all scared hes gonna die so ace decides he'll just stop (this is bad, very bad. ace is.. yk the rest)

snakes back again!! he wants more meth and ace is like "no" so snake freaks and practically tears the shack apart looking for the meth (that ace hid), when he doesnt find it he almost nearly beats ace up but the guys hold him back and THAT!!! THAT VERY MOMENT is where ace finally realizes what hes done was really shitty. so now what? how does he fix it? lock snake in a room bc they cant afford rehab. im so dead ass and im sorry

they just leave him in a room that locks from the outside only and feed him every so often (not too often bc he doesnt want food just meth) and this lasts for a month at most. like they have a whole system and everything so he doesnt escape, ONE PERSON stays near his room always like they can still do their things but they cant leave the shack when its their turn

back to "this lasts for a month at most" yeah it failed eventually because for a while snake is just so out of it he just sort of sat there and asked for stuff (mostly meth) for a bit, but as his clarity comes back more and more he starts scheming (uh oh thats how we got here) so he waits till its arturo's turn to watch him then he pull an ace

basically he lies to arturo and tricks letting him out and giving him meth "imss gonna burnss it all, destroy it ssso we can putss thiss behind uss pal" (oh yeah arturo knows where ace hides it bc he watched ace do it once, so yeah whomp whomp)

anyway snake obvs inst gonna burn it all but arturo is convinced and helps him and snake leaves

JFUEHFUHFKUWE i didnt realizehow much i wrote until now (AND THERES MORE) so ill make another post!! mostly so ur pretty orbs dont hurt

uhhh bye

So... Hotel Hazbin, huh?

I'd rate it like 7/10. Nice casual watch.

Now, WARNING!!! My opinion:

Chapter 1. story

It's alright. I'm glad it doesn't take itself seriously most of the time. With that said, I don't really understand why writers thought bringing up certain themes would be a good idea, but it's not my place to criticize it on this decision. What I can mention is that sometimes it's hard to understand whenever something important is happening or not, so I mayhaps missed something. But I like the main idea, characters, plot points, lore, ect.

Chapter 2: artstyle

When I was just starting watching this show I heard a lot of people saying "character designs are too complicated" or "the artstyle sucks" But you know how many characters were too complicated for me? ONE. Those were Husk's wings that dazzled in my eyes, in a bad way.

What people should be talking about more is how LOCATIONS are designed. Because, I feel hell is too bright. And I don't mean it's too red. I mean it's like... Too clean. I'd imagine place full of sinners to use less saturated colours. In my opinion, it would help characters stand out more and make the atmosphere a bit darker, and if I recall correctly, a lot of more serious/important moments happened outside. So yeah, I'd prefer more mud and dirt around the place.

Also I feel like I'd be lying if I didn't mention Vox's(?) design. I don't like his face, I'll be honest. I feel like it's a missed opportunity of adding interesting visuals to him, but hey. Maybe we'll have more stuff later? Who knows.

Chapter 3: representation

Now the big stuff. I've heard the main person behind the project doesn't like t-spectrum that much. I don't know if this statement is 100% truth or not, but if it is, it shows.

It's great this series has gay/pan/ace/lesbian/bi/ect characters, but lack of they/thems or trans folks is noticeable... And it saddens me a little, personally. I'm not going to hate on the creator for that, but I will say I wish this show had at least one nb/trans person in it. And I'm more than confident that there would be a way to implement such character with the correct time period in mind.

With that said, I feel like queer relationships were shown in a good way. I especially like Vaggie/Charlie's dynamic.

Chapter 4: dialogue

Sometimes I felt like people just said stuff a bit out of character. Like, I wouldn't expect Charlie to swear. Also I feel like Adam was acting unacceptable in court and should've been criticised by Sera(?) but that's just nitpicky. Lots of people said the dialogues are too vulgar but... We're in hell?..

Chapter 5: overall opinion

Honestly, this show is criticised a bit too heavily. It doesn't take itself seriously, y'all can relax. As far as I'm aware creator of this show isn't liked by the public but some people take it to extreme levels. Yeah, it's far from perfect and I feel like it could've done a lot of stuff differently, but it isn't that bad. Animation is nice, voice acting is nice too. (Vaggie's VA made me like their character, same with Adam. Didn't save Charlie tho, she's annoying lol) Would I recommend watching it? Eh, if you have free time and don't wanna think too much.

Body Paint | Wong Hendery

Genre: fluff, mature themes

Warnings: slight nudity, body painting ?, slight hair pulling, dirty talk

Words: 1,5k

AUTHOR SIN

Youre partnered up for a painting project with Hendery, when he has the the brilliant idea of painting each other...for the project Ofcourse.

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You set a couple canvases onto the wooden floor of the studio you and Hendery had rented for your upcoming art project. It was for the varsity final exhibition and the task was to be completely experimental while perfectly collabing with your partner. Hendery, the quirky black haired boy you were partnered with walked into the room sipping on his ice coffee, 

“Any ideas yet ?” He smiled sweetly as he set down his backpack and walked over to the tray of paint. 

“Nah” you shook your head and sat crossed legged on the floor, “what about you ?” 

Hendery joined you on the floor before pulling out his ipad and you scooted closer to him to take a look. Your eyes widened when his pinterest board was practically filled with body painting art pieces, ranging from a back piece to a completely full body canvas. 

“B-body painting ?” you raised an eyebrow, 

“Yeah, I think it's interesting and it will perfectly showcase a collab as well as create something different from everyone else” Hendery explained and sipped the last bit of his drink. 

You wrinkled your nose at the screen, unsure of how this was going to work, how much body would you be painting exactly ?

“Problem ?” Hendery chuckled, leaning back on his elbows as he stared up at you, 

“How much are we painting ?” you scratched your head nervously, eyes still locked on the majority of his moodboard being close to nudity. 

“I think full body, front or back your choice” Hendery answered calmly, “I brought my tripod and camera so we can do it now, take a few pictures and edit it for the exhibition”

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

“Wait you're for real, don't we need to plan ?” you stuttered as the boy continued to strip down to his black boxers. 

“We should go with the flow I think it would look better if it was freestyled” He replied as you took in his confident semi nude figure waltzing around the room. 

You thanked the heavens you were in somewhat decent underwear today, especially ones that aren't too revealing. Hendery locked the studio doors and taped a piece of paper over the window just in case and began mixing paints as you reluctantly began undressing. 

“Don't be nervous, remember those people who were butt ass naked in our class two weeks ago ?” Hendery chuckled as he continued doing his duties. 

“Oh yeah that was really something” you reminded yourself of that dreadful experience. The only reason why you agreed to Hendery’s plan was because you were comfortable around him despite never seeing each other like this. He was an extremely sweet person and had always been respectful toward you and your peers. 

“Front or back ?” Hendery asked as he stood on the plastic sheet he laid out. 

“Back, I really don't want to be face to face with your uhm” 

Hendery burst out laughing when he realized what you were hinting at, “noted.” 

You gathered your favourite colours and got to work on his back, which was gloriously broad and honestly the perfect human canvas. Hendery hissed at the cold paint making contact with his skin but finally eased up when you began your workflow. It felt awkward at first but eventually became fun, as you watched your piece come to life against his golden skin. 

“I guess you're going with a darker style huh? I've always liked your work” Hendery mused as he lifted his arm making it easier for you to cover his ribcage. 

“I'm surprised you like it since your style is the complete opposite of mine” you chuckled, “its like good meets evil”

“I think that's why this idea is really going to be perfect, wow I can't wait to see the outcome of it” Hendery stretched up in turn making his muscles flex, which was quite...the sight. 

You were coming close to the details around the side of his neck and the closeness made Hendery really take notice of you, like really take notice. He watched you concentrate as you worked on his skin, your tongue darting out while painting was incredibly cute to him. 

Hendery had no idea you paid attention but you were definitely aware of him studying you and it kind of made you feel a bit more comfortable that you weren't the only one ogling. 

“Okay i'm done!” You took a step back and admired your work, “It actually looks pretty good.”

Hendery stood at the backdrop while you snapped a few solo pictures of him and showed off your artwork. “Wow it looks dope, those demons on my thighs are kinda sexy” he teased and you rolled your eyes, “they're supposed to be creepy not sexy” 

“They can be creepy and sexy, just like you” Hendery stuck his tongue out, “come on demon princess it's your turn.”

You and Hendery both agreed on a front facing canvas since it was a good contrast to your piece on him. You sucked in a deep breath as Hendery neared you with the brush and the instant contact made you flinch, 

“Too cold?” he cooed, as he carefully began working on your sternum area. 

“Y-yeah” you chuckled nervously as you felt his warm breath hit your chest, Hendery looked up at you, eyes slightly narrowed before his lips curled into a grin,  “I'm sure you can handle anything babe.”

Where the hell did the sweet boy from earlier disappear to and why the hell did he just turn you on with just his words ?

Hendery quietly painted away, making sure to steal glances at you and his fingers danced lightly across your skin. He was gentle, making sure to touch you appropriately at all times even though you wished he wasn't so courteous for a second. 

“Okay I'm all done we should take pictures before it gets messy” Hendery ran over to the camera and began snapping a few shots of you. You were about to walk over to the camera to see his work when he held his hand up to stop you. “Wait we need to take a few together! I just want both canvases to look perfect”

You nodded and stood back in place while Hendery set up a self timer and jogged over to you. Thinking it was just a normal picture you stood as you were before but Hendery moved your arm to caress his face while he faced the other way and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Art is sexy remember” He winked as you recalled that stupid line your fine arts lecturer once said. You bit down on your lip and got into position, feeling a sense of excitement of Hendery’s grip being a little firmer than before. 

Hendery set the camera up once more and this time you orchestrated a position where Hendery stood behind you, showing a good portion of his back piece, and you faced front while he and you and him interlaced fingers. 

“For the finale we should make out, and kinda show the aftermath of the canvas” Hendery suggested and bit down on his lip, “are you okay with doing that?”

“Eh yeah that's actually a good idea” You agreed and Hendery quickly set up another self timer. 

Hendery grabbed your face in his hands as you wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him. His bright eyes suddenly darkened as they drifted down to your lips and pressed them against yours. The kiss was heated, crazily passionate for two people who had no prior feelings for each other. Hendery’s lips were soft and sweet, you could still taste the coffee on his tongue from earlier. His hand moved to your hair and he surprised you by slightly tugging on it which caused you to moan into the kiss. 

“Oh you into that huh?” he purred, and sucked your bottom lip between his teeth. 

He made you dizzy with lust. One simple kiss and you wanted him right then and there. He wasn't shy to grab your ass either as it was the only thing he was thinking about for the past four hours. 

“I think the….shutter...went off” you tried to catch your breath as Hendery’s lips already moved to your jaw and his hand gently squeezed his artwork around your throat. 

“Mmm, oh yeah” He sighed and licked his lips, breaking away from you and made his way over to the camera. Hendery sat up the final shot for the messed up canvases finale and made his way back over to you. 

The two of you posed side by side but you both could clearly hear the other person panting heavily after that heated kiss. 

The camera shutter went off and Hendery grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you to face him, “So y/n, There's only one shower” he smirked, “...do you want to wash away our artwork together ?”

Celebrating 1k+ Part 1: Zhongli x gn!reader

Crossover: Ancient Magus Bride

content: fluff, little bit of angst, romance

warning: themes of depression and mental illness, alluding to suicidal tendencies

The bath water was warm, soothing your inner turmoil and washing away the stress in small tides. What a day it had been, selling yourself off in an auction was strange enough but the man or creature that had purchased you was even weirder. As the auctioneer had said beforehand, you didn’t care about your own life, it didn’t matter who you were sold to. Even so, you were taken back by the sudden dragon like skull that appeared before your face on stage, bidding unreasonably high and sweeping you away in a noir cloak to his home. Calling you his apprentice, he had immediately invited you into his home and insisted you bathe.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a giggle, your neck snapped up and you were face to face with a strange creature. The creature was human like but much smaller with wings and long claws on it’s hands and fingers. It’s face was boyish, framed by two braids with traces of green and blue in its hair. Patterns of dandelions danced on it’s skin.

“Hello, sunshine,” his voice was clear as day, like a melody in the wind.

“What are you?” You breathed out.

His pointed ears twitched and he grinned, “I’m Venti! A wind spirit of course, nice to meet ya! ehe.”

“I see,” you tilted your head, remembering that Zhongli had told you it was impolite to call the fae as fae but to refer to them with familiarity. “Are you a neighbor?”

Two other humanoid creatures peered from behind Venti, the same viridescent wings sprouting from their backs and gold dandelions printed on their skin. One’s hair was red and her skin was a darker hue of green than the others. The other was blonde with a ponytail held by a flower stem.

“You know, ehehehe,” Venti giggled, and flew down, kissing your cheek. “That Morax is no good! You’re better off with us, we could cherish you truly, little sunshine.”

The fae left with those words, leaving you to your thoughts. Sighing, you emptied the bath and dressed yourself as the door shook gently with a knock. The door swung open just as you pulled your shirt over your head, finally clothed. The man stood in the door way, his gold eyes twinkling as he praised you for being patient with him and cleaning up so well. He shifted his weight and pulled something from his pocket, offering it to you.

Shyly, you took a step towards him, allowing him to slip it over your head, he chuckled, “Good puppy, this is a protective talisman. It’s a stone called Cor Lapis that formed close to a river. Over time the water from the river wore down the stone and created a hole in the middle, if you look through it you can see a fae’s true form.”

He patted your head and led you towards your room. The silver lady, Ganyu, darted into the bathroom to take care of your soiled clothing. Ganyu was a silky, a type of neighbor who liked to do chores and she looked after the house for Mr. Zhongli. She had already taken quite a liking to you.

Zhongli sat down on the edge of your bed, tucking you in, “From now on you will be my apprentice, and I your teacher, (y/n).”

His deep voice made your heart flutter just a bit, and you turned over to avoid that calculating gaze he always held. The bed squeaked as he stood, his footsteps were heavy as he walked out of the room, gently shutting the door.

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Zhongli watched your fragile figure walking away from the safety of his home and sighed, “I suppose this will make a good lesson.”

He creeped out, following you and hiding in your shadow. Venti was trying to persuade you to leave him. For some odd reason, this made Zhongli’s stomach twist up in a knot. Still, he maintained his composure and stayed hidden from the view of the troublesome fairy and you.

“Where are you from?” Venti asked you.

“A land far from here,” You sighed, “I was passed around by relatives so I was all over the place.”

“Oh?” a crooked smile formed on the fae’s lips, “Were they kind to you, sunshine?”

You grimaced, “It is.. hard to remember. But I think if I was loved by them and did love them I wouldn’t be here at this moment.”

It grew quiet as the fairy led you further into the forest. Zhongli was beginning to grow restless. You stopped and Venti turned to look at you, still hyper. He beamed at your emotionless face.

“We’ve been walking for so long, I might get lost,” Your eyes moved to the side.

“It’s fine!” Venti cheered, “You don’t have to go back there now. We have to go far to get to our land, and the others want you so badly you know.”

“What?”

“Ehe!” Venti grinned even wider as a gold light began to shimmer behind him, “There it is. A place for us, it’ll be lots of fun and we want you with us so bad, my sunshine. It’s okay, nobody’s waiting for you. You can come with me, come with us!

He continued, “Come along now, sunshine. Won’t you come with me?”

“It’s true that there wasn’t anybody waiting for me,” You began, seemingly entranced by the melodic words he spilt, “But..”

You swatted the floating boy away from you and stepped back. Your hand flew to your head as the forest around you spun. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t where you were supposed to be.

Venti screeched as you stumbled, “Sunshine! What’s wrong?”

“I don’t care if he throws me away.” You whispered, “Mr. Zhongli gave me a home and has taken care of me. He called me his apprentice and said he’d care for me like a family. Even if he does get tired of me or get rid of me, it’s okay. He’s already done enough for me.”

“Well, it seems my puppy already knows where home is,” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbled in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Morax! Eh? How did you find us?” Venti cried out, scowling.

Zhongli’s fingers went to your necklace, fidgeting with it as he held it in the palm of his gloves, “You see, this puppy did need a collar and bell if you would. It’s not as if somebody like myself wouldn’t notice a place so full of magic and energy like this.”

Venti shrieked in anger, flying off into the light. Shame filled you as you turned to your master, head down. He chuckled and patted your head, pulling you closer to him. His strong arms wrapped around you and your feet left the ground, a panicked gasp left your mouth as he carried you in his arms.

“Let’s go home now,” His long hair tickled your face.

You nodded in response, still taken back by his sudden affectionate side. He was a strange man.

“You have a scratch on your arm,” His eyes were piercing as they stared at the wound you hadn’t even noticed, “I’ll have to take care of that when we get home. As your future husband, I can’t allow you to get scars so easily.”

“Huh?” You grunted, craning your neck to look at him, “Husband?”

“Ah, I forgot to tell you. You are my apprentice but you are also to be my bride and I your husband.” He spoke with a straight face, his eyes never wandered from the path as he continued towards the house.

Your eyes widened, “Whaaaaat?!”

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Zhongli had insisted you find a familiar, and you had. Xiao was a wonderful familiar although quiet. Most of the time, he was in his doglike form just trailing behind you. Occasionally he’d switch to his humanoid form to gobble up some almond tofu. You sincerely cared about Xiao, and he you.

Zhongli, however, didn’t seem as happy about this. He had locked himself in his room for days now. You knew he was exhausted from the battle against Signora and her experiments at the church but still, you were worried. Silver had begun to grow worried too, frantically checking on the strange man constantly.

“Zhongli?” You knocked on the door, waiting for a response.

The door opened but before you could react, you were pulled into the dark room and heard the slam of the door shutting. From outside you could hear Xiao panicking and calling out for you. Zhongli was sitting in the dark, still stuck in a partial draconian form. You could feel his claws digging into your skin as he growled.

“Why?” His voice shook as he buried his head into your shoulder, “What is this?”

“Zhongli, what’s wrong?” Your hands brushed his, gently trying to pull his claws from you.

His grip grew tighter and you winced in pain, “Why are you spending so much time with him? Cant you tell I miss you? Why can’t you see I need you right now?”

“Zhongli,” Your voice shook, “You’re hurting me. Stop it.”

He removed his hands from you abruptly and pushed away from you, his back on the wall. Your eyes had finally adjusted to the dark room and you could see the outline of his body. He had horns sticking out of his head and a long spiked tail. His hands were almost normal but his nails were long and sharp like claws. Every so often a forked tongue would make its way past his lips. His expression was confused, lonesome even.

Taking a deep breath, you crawled towards him, pushing yourself closer to him. You faced him, taking his face into your hands and making his cold eyes look at yours.

“I think,” You squished his cheeks gently, “You are jealous.”

He frowned, “What is jealous?”

“Jealousy is a feeling. It’s when you care about somebody and you don’t want to share them. You want them to look at you, spend time with you, and care for you instead of others. It’s a feeling us humans feel a lot.”

“Hm,” He grunted, “Is that what this is?”

You chuckled, he was like a child in your hands right now. You pulled him closer, feeling the sigh of relief he let out at your embrace.

“Zhongli, you’re feeling new feelings and that’s okay. If you’ll be my magic teacher, I’ll be your human teacher, okay?” You squeezed him in your arms.

“Okay.” He agreed quietly.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that. Holding each other in the darkness, both of you were at peace even momentarily.

“You wanted me to have a familiar,” You kissed his cheek lightly, “As a part of my training. Xiao and I will spend time together often now. But you are my husband, my master, and that hasn’t changed. I promise, Zhongli.”

You pulled back to look at his face. He was blushing slightly which made a snicker leave your lips. His hair was loose and wild and his eyes were no longer empty but full of longing and adoration. The two of you had already seen so much together, your heart thumped even harder thinking of all the moments you’d spend together.

This man had taken you in and taught you magic. He’d sworn to save you from your curse of a short life span. He’d given you so much love and kindness. The time the two of you had spent together had only been a few short months but it filled you with joy.

His amber eyes bore into you, you could feel your face heating up as he continued to examine your infatuated expression. His palms trailed up to your face, and he pulled your lips onto his. The kiss was warm and sweet, innocent even.

“You are mine.” He whispered.

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“Where’s (y/n)?” Lumine peered at Xiao.

“With Zhongli in the garden,” Xiao grumbled, “Why’d you bring this brat?”

Lumine laughed as Aether climbed Xiao. She has brought cookies to share with her friend. Aether had also wanted to see the two who had saved them both only a year ago. Aether was obsessed with Xiao and his teal hair and tattoos.

Lumine smiled at Ganyu as she walked towards the back door. Ganyu nodded and opened the door for the young woman, letting her outside. It was a beautiful day, not too chilly and not too warm. The sun shone down and the blonde could hear your laughter from down the cobblestone path. She followed the sound, excited to see you.

As she approached the garden, she stopped seeing Zhongli twirl you around. She felt breathless seeing the two of you dancing in the sunlight. His long hair shimmered as he spun you around and caught you in his arms. The rings on your fingers twinkled and Zhongli took a flower and tucked it behind your ear. The tall man planted a kiss right on your lips and turned to Lumine, winking at her.

“Hey!” Lumine waved at you and Zhongli, “You’re finally back from the honeymoon. I brought cookies for you guys. Congratulations!”

You grinned and waved back at her. Lumine was overcome with bliss at the sight of your smile. Zhongli had really helped you grow more confident and you had opened him up more. The three of you ate cookies and laughed as Xiao barreled out, chased by Aether.

“Oh! How many kids will you have?” Lumine wiggled her eyebrows at you as you laughed at Aether.

“Kids?” Zhongli turned to you as you flushed at the question.

Lumine nodded, “Yes, when couples get married they usually have children and start a family.”

“Oi,” you laughed nervously, “We’ve only just got married..”

“Children would be nice,” Zhongli looked at you expectantly.

Xiao cackled at your embarrassment. As your familiar he could feel those strong emotions since you allowed him to. You glared daggers at the adeptus, but he only smirked. This was your karma for laughing at him while a child harassed him.

“Lots of them,” Zhongli muttered, “A big family.”

Your face only grew redder. Lumine laughed and Zhongli looked confused. You all spent the rest of the day talking of the future and munching on cookies.

word count: 9.6k | warnings: spooky-ness, teasing, a hot dance, ghostbusters references, blood, slime etc.

a/n: hello again! long time no see. the last time i posted a fic this long was back in april i think! *cries* this is for gianna’s (@hunflowers) halloween fic challenge because it’s also her birthday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE! go wish her a happy birthday! i hope you all enjoy ghost hunting with harry!

summary: Harry and Yn are ghost hunters and they argue a lot

halloween fic challenge I my masterlist 

“You know…you can be really annoying sometimes.”

YN didn’t mean to be so snappy like she is today. Because first it isn’t fair to anyone and second how can she even dare to be in such a mood on her favourite day of the year? It started so well. Her alarm was unnecessary as every day but she rolled out of bed with light limbs and tiptoed into her shower where she hummed the Ghostbusters theme song for the 31 time this month. Only this time with more enthusiasm. Five calls came through this morning as she slipped into her one-piece but they got managed by Isha and Luke who were already in the office.

Perhaps it all went down when her knee was attacked with a plastic sword by a five-year-old. Perhaps when her favourite sweets were sold out -- what is partly her own fault for wanting to buy them on the busiest day this month --, so she had to buy the cheap version that tastes like fake strawberry and smells like perfume from a kid’s magazine. Perhaps when she arrived at the office and nobody was there to answer calls. But she thinks it all went down when she climbed the stairs to his apartment and nobody answered. When she searched every room of their little secret hiding place. When she turned the door handle to the broom closet and he came stumbling out, back first, with some redhead in his hold, gasping in shock.

Perhaps it all went down when she looked to the ground to the young man that apologetically grinned up at her and to the young woman that pouted at him. When she had to say the words, “Please, cover yourself properly.” And immediately walked around the corner. Because apparently, she’s the only one that cares to get this damn work done.

YN wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt. Again. Actually, she doesn’t even have a reason to be mad at everything just because she’s mad at him.

Eventually, she pretended to be doing something important on their laptop as she heard frantic whispering and little yells from the hallway before they awkwardly shuffled past YN, Harry shooting his index finger up to show it’ll be a quick goodbye.

So now that she said that, she is typing furiously on the keyboard of her laptop and sighs heavily, chest noticeably heaving, Harry chuckles.

Her eyes dart over to him. Standing in the corner of the room where their equipment hangs on hooks, cleaning them with an old rag, he shakes his head in disbelief. Amusement written all over his face. “What?”

He gives her the side glance, dimple etched deep into his skin as a smile tugs at his lips. “I came in here all happy and motivated — because, you know it’s Halloween — expecting a treat, but here you are being a real trick.”

And then her jaw drops, a scoff. “You are too old to be talking about trick-or-treating, don’t you think?”

“Oh, no! I’m allowed to be talking about it.” He scratches his nose with the knuckle of his hands, trying not to get the blood in his face. “Halloween is my aesthetic, you know? And before I forget it. I’ve taken a handful of those sweets that were lying around at the entrance. Don’t know where they came from but—”

“Are you serious? Harry! They were mine!”

He looks surprised as he pulls his shoulders up to his ears as if he’s done nothing wrong. “Don’t worry! There are like four left or something.”

An aggressive wrinkle settles between her brows. She huffs. “Sometimes I can’t even believe I have to deal with you every day!”

“Hey, don’t get personal here! You left your candy unattended and therefore it is now mine.” He pats on his stomach.

She ignores him, thinking that he’ll say something else but as she glances at him from where she sits, she doesn’t find the furrow in his eyebrows or the flaring of his cute nostrils. No, he still stands there with one hip popped to the side and lips pursed as he concentrates on his task.

Just as he is about to walk away, YN assumes with how he throws the rag over his shoulders and goes to wash his hands, rings clinking on the side of the sink as each one slides from his fingers, the door out front opens and slams against the wall behind.

Isha comes sprinting towards her, unintelligible words leaving her as she still tries to catch her breath, Luke on the other hand limps into the room, standing next to their coworker as he mumbles different codes so she can frantically type something with her eyes set hard on the screen.

“What happened?” YN’s voice is serious as her eyes drift to Harry who comes out of the bathroom and wipes his hand on his shirt. His face is also set, brows deep, forehead crinkled. Except for his eyes. His eyes seem more curious and nervous than ever.

Isha has a restless look on her face that makes Yn’s fingertips twitch. Something is completely wrong. “Isha.” Her palm touches her shoulder gently. “Isha!”

The woman jerks away, stopping all that she was doing. Only then she notices the scratches along her beautiful face, a cut at her eyebrow and the slime sprinkled across her skin like freckles normally would. “We found it.”

“It?” His bottom lip is red from all the chewing on it and as his arms fall from where they were just crossed in front of his chest he steps to the rest of them. “So we’re all talking about the same thing?”

YN fixes her attention back to the screen as the tension builds. It’s hard to breathe. All three of them look at her— waiting for instructions, rules, anything—, as she thinks and thinks although she already got a plan. Her eyes shift to Harry’s and realization hits him. He nods. Eventually, YN breaks the silence, voice weak and nervous.

“Then Harry and I have to go out tonight to get that damn thing.”

:

She flinches again.

“I think you’ll be in a better mood after you take a nap.”

Readjusting the hold on the P.K.E. Meter as she mutters a reply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” But she shuts her eyes, twisting her head to the small neighbourhood they are walking through which front yards are decorated for Halloween. Doing this alone with Harry is already giving her a throbbing headache, and they’ve only been walking around for less than two hours. Staying quiet will probably be the best way she’ll be able to survive.

Luke and Isha started early that day as they got a call from Family Fernsby saying their house would be haunted. Her two coworkers were not able to trap the thing but could get it out of the lovely family’s house so they could at least enjoy Halloween a little bit. The description though was clear as they came running into their little office. Powerful, tall, stubborn. The group has been after this supernatural creature for years. Every Halloween it came out to ruin the fun for everyone. And it always managed to escape.

YN shakes herself from her memories as she turns to Harry who keeps vigilant eyes on their surroundings. She should, too, now that it’s much darker and the risk to be attacked is higher, but the man, however, keeps her mind trailing back to when he joined them. It’s not Harry in general who she doesn’t like, it’s just his persona. Always being smug, cocky and teasing does her no good. Especially, not so when he looks like this. It does her no good to think of Harry in the past, because the present Harry is currently watching her with a careful look on his face and the longer she takes to reminisce, the more time he has to study her. Like he is probably doing now.

Despite her plan, however, the loud noises starts again, pulling her out of her thoughts. YN glances to the side, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she suppresses a yell that starts to bubble deep in her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” YN’s head snaps back to the front, feeling caught, and her eyes jerk in Harry’s direction. He’s watching her with a tilt of his head, catching every one of her movements. The constant monitoring is annoying to no end.

Harry, it seems, is either oblivious to her annoyance or is choosing to ignore it (as always). “I asked what’s wrong. You have a weird look on your face.” His words are accompanied by the sound of him tapping his ring adorned fingers against the gun that’s attached to Proton Back. “Everything alright? An entity near?”

“No, it’s just—” YN glances down at her shoes, fingers cramping around the apparatus as she crafts a reply in her head. “It’s nothing.”

Harry snorts a short and harsh sound that grates against Yn’s nerves. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“It’s nothing to you.” She retorts and turns her attention back to the still silent area. “My personal life is none of your business.”

“Personal life, eh?” He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. All that he’s doing irritates her even more. “What, you can’t talk to me about your problems?”

The remark hits YN and she halts for a moment as she struggles to form a response. “I—” She gathers herself, taking a moment to try and not scream at him then and there. She avoids his gaze as her cheeks begin to burn in anger.

“Just tell me if something’s bothering you.” Harry lifts his hand from the gun and shifts to fix his sunglasses (she thinks it’s for his fashionable self, because it’s literally night but whatever), settling it back on the metal once he’s done. “It’s okay, you know?”

The comment is bait. She knows it. She knows that he only does this to get under her skin and to amuse himself over her frustrated and annoyed state. Yn has been around Harry long enough to know how he works, and she also knows how to come back at him. And yet she can’t help it.

“I didn’t say anything.” YN shoots back, giving him a cold glare.

Like before, he’s watching her from the corner of his eye. Another step on a crunchy leave. “Oh, you didn’t have to.” Her eye twitches. A crunchy leave. “I know you. And I also know how to drive you up a wall.” A whole heap of leaves. “Ah, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as stepping on a super crunchy leaf, don’t you think?”

That does it. “For fucks sake, Harry, you sure are acting like a fucking child that can’t fucking wait to get diabetes of too damn many sweets. Because a whole ass man would try to focus on his work and get actual things done!” Somewhere in a front yard chimes a high-pitched, dirty laugh from one of the decorative witches. She doesn’t hide the stare of disbelief on her face as she still looks at him. Harry’s face though, turned to the front again, has a look of amusement mixed with contemplation on it, and it takes all of YN’s self-control not to smack the expression off of him. Although there’s a ghost of a smirk on his cherry coloured lips, his brow is furrowed behind his sunglasses as if he’s thinking hard about her words.

“I’m impressed, YN.” The tip of his tongue runs along the corner of his mouth as a smile tugs on his lips. He chuckles sarcastically. “Haven’t heard of the child one in a long time, eh?”

Shaking her head, she finally snaps out of her stare and spits out a finishing phrase. “You’re unbelievable!” She clumsily tucks the P.K.E. Meter back in the pocket of her uniform at the side of her leg and starts walking with quick and big steps.

Harry grows quiet then, his brows furrowing as he returns his full attention to her walking away from him. With their chatter gone, the only sound is the wicked laugh from the decoration again. His shoulders fall with a sigh before he decides to jog after her.

Jumping in front of her and walking backwards to get her attention, he grins. “Well?” He impatiently prompts after a moment, and even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel him looking intently at her with his emerald green irises burning into her face. “I was right.”

YN stops abruptly in front of a house, leaving Harry almost continuing walking, hands pressed into a fist at her sides as she quickly clears her throat. “No.” Her voice is tight. “And now what?”

He hums low in his throat, and his voice is laced with fake curiosity. “Really?” His head tilts to the side. “What did I get wrong?”

“I—” She hates the way everything inside her is burning from his asking. If Harry really knows her, like he says he would, then he knows how much she hates losing the control in this exact situation. “You know the basics of me, not me.”

The sound that leaves his mouth is loud and pretentious, and his whole body curves towards the ground as the laughs roll out of him with a hand clutching his stomach. His eyes are crinkled and shut as he pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose to keep them there. “Right, sorry.” Harry’s voice is full of amusement.

YN keeps her body stiff and stares at the street behind him, refusing to engage in this conversation any further. He lazily drags his hair out of his face, fixing the curls that bother him while chuckles continue to escape him. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I understand—” He waves off their argument with a flick of his hand.

By now his curls are a mess from the constant fidgeting, and his cheeks behind his stubble have a rosy tint to them from the laughter that left his pink lips a moment ago. His dimples are present and look all infuriatingly cute with how deep they etch into his skin. They show just how entertaining he found teasing her. Idiot, she thinks, why can he look so good while being as troublesome as carving a badly chosen pumpkin.

Then there is a scream.

Both their heads shoot up as they stare at each other in silence, waiting for the scream to sound again.

Another scream.

Both their heads turn around to the house behind them. The windows glowing in different lights and colours, loud music blasting through the walls and echo through the whole street.

“It could be a scream of fun.” His eyes stare at the side of her face as her whole attention is on the house still. “Or of ecstasy and pleasure. Or the type of scream where someone gets thrown in the pool with their clothes still on.” He shudders. “Gross feeling—”

“Just shut up for once!” YN hisses between clenched teeth. “Can’t you for once not talk about what gets your dick wet?!”

“Heeeeyyyy…” His hand comes up to lie over his heart, pouting playfully. “I’m not materialistic. I’m a man with needs. I like being happy and having lots of sex.”

She rolls her eyes, but proceeds to walk close to the house while getting the P.K.E. Meter out of her pocket. Just one look and her jaw drops. “Spirit energy is the strongest here.”

His amused grin falls from his face, replaced with a serious expression mixed with some kind of shock. “Okay, what’re we gonna do now?”

The smallest tug of her lips upwards makes itself known to Harry as his own smile grows. “I guess we’re going to a party tonight.” She shrugs.

YN glances at Harry then, and she knows that his thoughts are the complete opposite from hers: there is no way that they’d put on costumes. No way in hell.

A pleased smirk slowly spreads across his face. His grin is stretched from ear to ear when she looks back at him.

“No way! No, Harry, no. There is no way in hell I am dressing up!”

:

“And just what exactly are you supposed to be?”

One of his brows is lifted as his teeth hold his bottom lip to fight the mocking smile that creeps onto his mouth. Scrunching his nose to cover his amusement, the knuckle of his finger scratches along the tip to hide all the amusement. It’s just so funny how she stands there, bad posture and grumpy face. Although she glares at him, and he knows he’ll regret it later on, there’s something endearing about it. Harry feels his cheeks hurt.

YN swings her arms up once, letting them flop audibly to her sides. She tilts her head, squinting her eyes at him. “A mortician, obviously.” She deadpans.

His lips twitch. “Can you be a sexy mortician?”

Only then she sees that he is dressed as a Stormtrooper from Star Wars. White armour that hugs him perfectly and a helmet tucked under his armpit. Harry really does look good. YN is not stupid, she knows he’s one of the prettiest men she’s ever seen. His mossy green eyes, pink wet lips, chestnut hair that curls behind his ears and frames his face, now held back with a bandana and a hair clip. The mole at the underside of his jaw and the one that almost disappears in the dimple when he smiles makes him look like a real greek god. But this enthusiasm over his looks is completely inappropriate at this moment.

“In your dreams surely.” She shoots him a fake smile. “Seriously though. Is this really necessary?”

Harry nods curtly as he pushes his sunglasses into his backpack. “Of course it’s necessary.” He says, folding his uniform neatly and packing it away along with their stuff too. “I haven’t been to a party for two months. And we don’t wanna attract any attention, do we?”

“Okay, but—” YN follows Harry as he walks towards a room, knocking before pressing his ear to the wood of the door. “Here? Really? Does this seem like the best place for a ghost to be?”

He enters the room, one quick look around to make sure there’re no people making out, and waves her in. Harry glances at her over his shoulder, pausing his long strides to look at the wardrobe in the corner he spotted from the door. “Yeah, you saw how the P.K.E. freaked out. If you’re really bothered, you can wait outside while I try to kill it.”

YN considers it for a moment but decides against it. She needs to somehow be engaged when they find the supernatural creature to ease her mind, and honestly, she doesn’t know if Harry means it genuinely or if he’s teasing her again. He probably wouldn’t even manage to tell if the ghost is near until it kills him.

She pulls the straps of the backpack over her shoulders, adjusting the weight. “Let’s just get this over with.” She sighs as she steps over the wooden floor to help Harry get their Proton Backs and their uniforms into the closet to hide it before they get back. “We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Oh yes?” There’s an amused smile playing on his lips, a tiny hint of a dimple just barely appearing on his cheek. “You’ve got plans for later? You know… when you’re getting rid of these horrible boots and finally get to take off this smelly costumes—”

“Do you ever get tired of listening to yourself?”  YN grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because you talk awfully a lot.”

Harry glances at her, his pretty green eyes glimmering. “I think I’m not the only one, love.”

The flush on YN’s face with hearing the pet name works its way to the apple of her cheeks. “Don’t call me that.” She mumbles as her eyes drop from Harry to the ground, turning around to walk out of the room. “Come on now. I want to get this over with.”

“Okay.” He says slowly, clamping the tiny gun on the belt of his costume. “What’s the problem then?”

The sound of the music downstairs gets louder and louder as they stand there, and YN raises her voice to be heard. “Why does it matter to you?”

He pushes the door open with his shoulder and lets her slide through the slit first, YN rolling her eyes at his gentlemanly behaviour, and shrugs. “It doesn’t.” They step down the stairs and the heavy bass from the music blasting through the room pumps through the whole room. He slightly leans in. “Just curious is all.”

“Well, you don't need to be curious.” YN snaps at Harry, ultimately regretting it as the tiny smirk playing around his lips grows to a smug one. The song changes to one she doesn’t know. “We should go through that crowd and watch the P.K.E. You have it, right? Maybe we should split u—”

Harry watches the crowd going wild in front of them, snapping out of it at her words. “Right, come on!”

He waves his hand at her and disappears in the sweaty crowd.

There’s a frustrated pout on her lips as she realizes that Harry didn’t really listen to what she’d just said.  “Split up. Maybe we should split up…”

:

She doesn’t understand.

The apparatus clearly freaked out as they stood in front of the house earlier. Now that she lost Harry in the crowd, standing by herself and getting bumped into, the thing looks like it’s almost asleep. The faint lamps flicker here and there. Nothing to be worried about though.

It’s hopeless. She feels hopeless. The frustration from the morning is there again as she feels her bones ache. Perhaps she could go out to get some fresh air.

“YN! Over here!”

The girl turns towards the dancing people, her eyes wide as she realizes Harry is dancing with finger guns pointed to the ground as his shoulders shimmy in a way that doesn’t even fit to the rhythm of the music. His smile is particularly glowing under the colourful lights that are streaming from everywhere, his eyes seem to be doing the same. He releases one hand that’s formed to a fist to brush away a strand of hair that escaped his clip before beckoning her forward.

“Dance a bit?” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that immediately makes YN uneasy. “We’ve been searching the whole time. We can have a bit of fun tonight, can’t we?”

YN snorts, fiddling with the black fabric of her costume. “It’s a ghost hunt, right? Walking and searching is the point, isn’t it?”

Harry shrugs slightly, the corner of his mouth still stretched into a smile. “I haven’t been to a good Halloween party in a while. And I assume you haven’t either?”

She ignores his comment about her. “I doubt that this is the best one you’ve attended, Harry.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think they’ll be up to your standards.”

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?” He playfully matches her eye roll before turning his expression into a pleading puppy-like one. “Please? We’ll get the damn ghost later, too.”

“Harry—”

“Just one dance!” Harry pleads, jutting out his bottom lip. “Please? To celebrate not killing each other?”

Despite herself, a small laugh falls from her mouth.

“The mission is not over yet, Harry.” She points out.

“YN…” Harry whines, his eyes seeming to get bigger and bigger. “Come on!”

YN bites her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks down to her feet then back up to him. Maybe they could use a break before they continue. The P.K.E is still not alarming them so it’s not a real risk. And it’s Halloween...

“Fine.” She gives in, ignoring the feeling in her stomach when she sees his green eyes light up. “But just one song!”

Harry, realizing she’s coming towards the dance floor now, throws his hands up in the air and sinks further into the crowd.

“Harry—” YN speaks, although her voice gets swallowed by the sounds. “What should I—”

“Don’t worry, just relax.” Harry assures her, his eyes flickering over her appearance quickly. “You look great, sexy mortician. Just go with it!”

There’s really no choice but to go with it, because within a moment, Harry has a silly smile on his face as he takes her hands to pull her closer, his body moving in sways to the music but his eyes are still interlocked with hers. Also, the bodies that are pushing her back and forth, force her closer to him.

He dances with confident motions. All YN can do is stare with a shocked expression painted across her face as Harry continues to lure her in. He makes eye contact with a specific person right beside her, a Freddie Mercury, she thinks, before he twirls and thrusts his hips in a way that should make her blush and want to leave and not be so tingly with nerves.

It’s then that Harry’s attention turns back to YN, his eyelids hooded, hiding the half of his emerald irises as he strolls back towards her. YN is certain that he’s never looked at her the way he does now.

The closer he gets to her, the less she can breathe. YN feels like her breaths are stuttering in her chest, giving barely enough oxygen to keep her going. Harry seems unaware of the effect he’s having on her. His long limbs are loose and lanky as he continues to move to the music, the smirk on his face mixed with something that she can’t put her finger on.

He leans impossibly closer, the scent of his cologne and sweat that comes from him as he presses his forehead to her temple reminds her exactly what they are supposed to be doing. “Dance.” He rasps into her ear, breath tickling her skin. Just then she manages to get a grip and shove his shoulder to push him away enough for her to distance herself and breathe again.

YN moves around, glancing at him over her shoulder as she decides to sway her hips to the music, deciding it’s kinda fun, too. Harry watches her with darkened eyes that hold a hunger to it. He looks like a pet wanting its toy.

Turning around and now full-on jumping, she sees him enjoying it by the way his smile grows as he runs a hand indiscriminately through his sweaty curls. She points at him slowly, singing to the song, but Harry grips the finger, then her hand and easily pulls her to him. He begins to move to the music again, keeping the fabric of her costume clutched within his hold. YN can feel how tightly he’s gripping her by now. His eyes break away from hers for only a moment to eye her lips that move with every word of the song before snapping back to her gaze. When she sucks in a breath, she can taste Harry’s cologne on her tongue and she fights back a gasp.

Harry releases the hold of the wrinkled fabric at her back to change to the skin at her neck, the coolness of his rings against her hot skin makes YN stutter. The need to be closer to him has sparked in her and by the way Harry keeps licking his pink lips, he knows it.

YN though refuses to be the only one who’s affected by this and her hand leaves her side to his hair, tugging on it harshly. The grip on her neck grows tighter and his free hand presses her thighs and hips to his own as he guides the two of them to the beat of the music. His eyes are glued to her lips as YN lets go, eyes glittering shut and her head thrown back, the heat in her stomach growing hotter with every tug of his teeth on his swollen lip and every swipe of his tongue to soothe.

The song slowly comes to an end, the song changing, and this is where they should break apart. But it’s just so hard with the way his curls are a mess from YN’s fingers and his chest heaving visibly with every breath he takes.

YN tries. She tries to keep her mind going, swallowing hard as her mouth has run dry, breath sucked out with the way he looks at her. It’s over. The one dance has been danced and this should be it. The stolen glances to her lips and his heavy eyelids are a sight to see and hard to reject. His upper lips brush her lips, barely even a touch

A frantic beeping snaps them out of whatever trance they just were in.

His forehead drops to hers, the taste of his scent blurring her senses. “Harry—” She manages to say before he cuts her off.

“Don’t.” He sounds almost pained. His voice comes out as a rasp like it hurts to get the words out of him. Harry takes a few deep breaths before eventually pulling away from her, gesturing for her to turn around.

YN’s teeth capture the skin of her cheek, the air around her feels suddenly cold. Staring at the ground of feet stepping around, she doesn’t notice that Harry fished the P.K.E. out of her bag. Her face feels hot as he steps into her field of view, showing her the apparatus that seems to break with how much it beeps and blinks in his hand.

Her eyelids blink rapidly, not fully understanding how the situation could turn so fast. “It’s here.”

Harry nods. Once and harsh. “It’s here.” He confirms.

The change in his demeanour is telling her that he’s irritated by what just happened. He tries to catch her gaze but she avoids any contact that’s possible.

She gulps the lump in her throat. “We should look for a basement.” His jaw flexes, but he shows no proof that he really heard her. A sigh falls from her lips. “Harry.” She says firmly.

Harry, it seems, snaps out of whatever trance he was just in. He can’t pretend to be deaf. “Yeah, a basement…” A curt nod as he glances at her for a moment before turning around and leaving the mass of costumed people.

YN bumps into a few people on her way out, standing on her tiptoes to make sure she doesn’t lose Harry again. She sees him by a staircase again. It’s leading downstairs from where weird noises come from.

“It’s the strongest here.” Harry states, his eyes set into the darkness down the stairs.  

A huff and Harry blinks the daze from his eyes to blink confused at her. “Let’s go, then.” She says, arms crossed in front of her chest and walking down the stairs.

It’s dark. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can faintly make out shapes across the room. “Did you find a light switch yet?”

“No, obviously not.” He hears her voice from over the room. “Otherwise I would’ve already switched it on, don't you think?”

A breathy laugh leaves his lips. “No need to get snappy.”

He hears her mutter something, practically seeing her rolling her eyes, as he feels along the wall.

The sound of a thump.

His fingers find the light switch and flip it on. YN adjusts to the sudden light with a squint of her eyes. Harry’s eyes are wide as he stands frozen in place. Her eyes rising upwards to him, arms lifted in surrender. After a second he finally blinks multiple times while his brows are painfully furrowed.

He runs his fingers into his eyes. “Think I’m blind. “He blurts.

“Harry, the box.” YN looks to the ground.

Following where her finger is pointing at, Harry’s attention picks up as he scans their surroundings. As he faces Yn again, he blinks hard. It takes him a moment of standing with his mouth gaping open before he swallows.

Pink and green fog encircles YN’s body from behind. Two evil faces grin at Harry.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her eyebrows are deep in her face, getting uncomfortable. “Harry.” She waves her hand in front of his face.

He shakes his head carefully, his index finger in front of his lips, silencing her. The other one goes to his belt where his gun is tucked securely. “They are staring at me.”

YN stills for a moment. “Shoot them.” She presses.

With cautious fingers, he feels his belt, trying to get a good grip at his weapon as Harry’s eyes stay on the ghosts and the one whose hands reach for YN. It’s the look on her face that tells him to be quick because although she deals with this multiple times a week, there’s also fear glimmering in her eyes.

Before its hands wrap around her throat, he shoots forward, pulling YN behind him, and fires the specific golden bullet. A painful screech echoes through the room and it explodes with not much mess. The other one, their main target, laughs and disappears through the wall.

YN breathes heavily and stares into nothing particular, looking far away. Harry doesn’t look too far off, blinking quickly as if a spell had come over him. They only realize they were holding hands the entire time, the moment they had to let go.

He clears his throat, mesmerized by the feeling of her clammy hand engulfed by his and the other one gripping his bicep. YN, however, doesn’t look all too happy about it.

“It escaped again.” She states, jaw clenching uncontrollably with the way she has to press the words out of her. “Could you get the stuff from upstairs?”

Harry sighs. Hurt by the fact that she acts this way. “YN, wait.”

Shaking her head, fingers fiddling with the gown of her costume, she tears her eyes away from the ground. It’s only a swift glance. “Just hurry up, alright?”

:

It’s like they’re back to the start. Square one. Like nothing happened.

The ghost escaped them. Again. They don’t talk. Again. Every little none existent interaction between them while it’s silent, makes the air around them even heavier.

“Yn.” He risks a glance at her from the corner of his eye. She grips her weapon tight in her hands, the skin in her knuckles stretching and turning white. A frustrated sigh falls from him. “YN, why are you ignoring me now?”

She winces then. Like she didn’t expect him to call her out like that. She shrugs, lifting her shoulders and dropping them down. “I’m not ignoring you.”

An offended scoff tumbles past his lips. “You aren’t talking to me. At all. It looks like ignoring to me.” The silence is finally getting to him. “Shouldn’t we talk about—“

YN twists her body in his direction abruptly stopping in her tracks. “What is there to talk about?” She snaps.

He looks offended with his lips parted and forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean? There’s plenty to talk about!”

That’s true. But seeing Harry like this, disappointed and huffy makes her ultimately feel like she has to guard the only thing that’s left. These sorts of feelings are weird to her and annoying. “It was a mistake and it shouldn’t have happened.” So she rolls her eyes and shrugs it off as if it’s nothing. “Looks like an entity is near.” She hesitates. “I know it’s Halloween and it’s stupid to enter a corn maze now. Makes the best movies, though, doesn’t it?”

Harry stops directly in front of the entrance, making her stop too. A hint of hurt crosses his face, but Yn thinks it’s just her wishful thinking. “You think it was a mistake?” He mutters.

“I do, yeah.” She nods her head to the first turn. “It was a heat of the moment thing.” Lie.

As she rounds another corner, completely out of her feeling. Her eyes shift to Harry for a moment who silently follows her with his gaze fixated on the ground. He looks like he’s deep in thought.

And he is. He was convinced that YN liked losing herself in the moment for once like she did when they danced together. Harry is sure he wasn’t the only one feeling the heat and the want between them. It was like she enjoyed it. Now, it seems, YN can’t wait any longer to get the furthest away from him.

She’s always like this. Running away from commitment, from feelings, from honest things, from him. At first, when they met that one time at this party where they got introduced, he thought it might be a phase. A stressed period in her life. Quickly, he came to conclusion, it wasn’t. It’s just like she is. And although it can be annoying at times, Harry likes the way she is. But YN just doesn’t see it.

Harry smacks into her back as she abruptly stops, getting pulled out of his thoughts.

YN doesn’t even react as she only tumbles a bit forward. Her mouth wrinkles in displeasure and she frowns.

“What?”

“Another closed path.” She mutters. “How did you manage to get us lost in a corn maze?”

“Woah, stop. I didn’t do anything, remember?” His finger dig into his chest. “You were the one that wanted to run away from everything as always!”

“I do not run away from everything!” She makes a face as if it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard of.

“What about McCullen’s party? You weren’t running away then?” The corner of his lips forms into a smile.

“N-no. That was completely different.”

“You slapping me after the kiss is so much more different than you ignoring me after almost kissing me?” He lifts a brow.

“I wasn’t kissing you! You leaned in after suggesting to dance. You implied it!”

“So it’s my fault?” The amused facial expression is really making YN want to slap him right now. It’s smug and everything that makes her cheeks heat up.

“Yeah.” She mumbles.

“I thought we were getting along better.” Harry’s voice trails off, his eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment before staring back at YN.

“We kinda were.” She nods, teeth tugging on her bottom lip and she feels a sudden shyness overcoming her. “It’s hard to forget why we don’t get along though.”

“Is it?” Harry smiles nervously. “You remember?”

“Yes!” She scoffs playfully. “The first night we met through Isha. She secretly wanted to set us up? You were nice but after you tried to kiss me and I slapped you, you were being rude and an arsehole.” 

“No! That’s not right.” He protests. “I was making jokes, like I always do,  trying to break the ice after the whole situation got fucking awkward! I thought I was being obvious!”

“Well, you could’ve told me that you were about to kiss me!” The heat on her neck works its way to her cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He sends her a crooked smile. “Tell me the next time.”

The amused smirk on his face falls, quickly coming to realize what he said.

YN clears her throat. “Anyways… Isha told me you’re more of a one night kind of guy. I’m just not the type of person to do that.”

Harry fixes his gaze on the ground, rolling his eyes at her words. Making sure she doesn’t see.

“I’m sorry, okay. It’s in the past and it will never happen again.” He looks annoyed by their conversation. “Let’s just focus on the fact that we’re here in this damn situation and can’t find Bob.” He finishes, breathing heavily at his outburst.

“Who the fuck is Bob? You named the ghost Bob?” YN says suddenly out of the silence. She scrunches her nose. “Why did you do that?”

Harry laughs, his body moving with the rolls of giggles. “Yeah. Sounds a bit nicer than always calling it a ghost or a thing.”

She rolls her eyes, lips straightening to fight the urge to smile about his typical Harry behaviour. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, shoulders raising and falling quickly. “It gives the ghost a bit of importance, no? Like a personality or something.”

YN snorts. “Or something.” She repeats him.

“No need to make fun of it now.” Harry defends himself. “At least I value personalities.”

She watches the way he scratches under his chin where his stubble seems to get longer than it ever was before. He looks like he knows what just slipped him.

YN clears her throat, turning around to stare at him. “What?”

“I don’t mean that—I uh, I was about to say that you—”

“I don’t value personalities?” YN raises a brow in question. How could the comfortable atmosphere change to an ice-cold surrounding within a heartbeat?

He shakes his head, sensing the shift in her tone. “I didn’t say that.” He mumbles as he looks anywhere else but at her.

“But you meant it.”

When Harry glances at her again, his eyes darker than before and his ears a faint red, he gulps the lump in his throat. “No, I… no. I just mean—”

“What? What do you mean, Harry?”

“Could you please—” His voice is loud before he tries to calm himself. “Please, just let me explain.”

Harry licks his lips, clearing his throat along with it before answering. His nervousness is clear in his movements and his facial expression. “I know you find it important that I don’t know a lot about your…personal stuff. You are not exactly living the dream in the dating life.” He words his phrases very carefully as he keeps stealing glances at her. “And from what I know you also don’t think it’s a need to try and find a partner, even just for one night… for whatever reason that might be…That’s totally okay though.” He fiddles with his rings. “But having you blame me all the time just because you assume things about me is nasty.”

Indignant sputters from YN as she is unable to form a proper response. Anger rises in her chest. “So you accuse me of not valuing personalities?”

“While you having a thing for me, yes.”

An incredulous scoff falls from her mouth, halting her movements. YN can’t believe what he just said. It feels like he punched her right in the face with how easy that just tumbled from him. The anger bubbling in her chest makes her cancel out any coherent thoughts that could lead to rational decisions. It leaves her with fury. “That’s bold of you to say!”

Her low voice that’s lacking any emotions should make Harry take a step back, instead, his shoulders square as his posture shifts to one that guards him and gets defensive. “Am I wrong? It’s not like you hide it any good—”

She turns around. “I’m going.” YN is faster gone before Harry can so much but grab the straps of his backpack and try to sprint after her.

Her rational mind that wouldn’t be swarmed by angry thoughts would tell her to stop walking as it’s in the middle of the night on Halloween, but it’s not so she stumbles around every corner where corn protrudes into the sky.

“YN—” The sound of Harry’s heavy pace following her around every corner makes her go faster. “YN, come back—”

She turns on her heel, fast and fuming. Her heart pounds so hard against her chest she thinks that it might break something.  “Just fucking leave me alone, Harry.” YN hisses. “I don’t know what your problem is. What is your problem? Why are you always being so— so vile about everything I do?”

Harry takes a step back at her outburst. He freezes. “I don’t—” His eyebrows wrinkle in the middle of his forehead as he struggles to say what he wants. “I don’t think I’m being... vile.”

“Well, you are!” She shouts. “Vile, mean, nasty, careless, a narcissist and everything in between. And just because I bruise your ego, doesn’t mean you can insinuate things about me! I don't appreciate you acting like a fucking jerk towards me, yes -- that doesn’t mean I hate you though.”

Harry’s jaw tenses, muscles flexing, an emotion crosses his face that she can’t name as he listens to her speak. “I told you I didn’t mean it. A joke under friends. It was supposed to be a joke. Because—”

“Because what? We’re not friends, Harry!” Her voice breaks at the end. “I don’t need you joking with me or rather about me! Especially not when you already know I’ve got a thing for you!”

Harry looks like he got slapped right over his face. His mouth opens to respond and although his green irises look full of emotion, no words cross his lips. He closes his mouth, eyes shifting to the ground before YN can see a million things flitting through his mind that he wants to say but just can’t. YN is sure whatever he has to say, she doesn’t want to know. Rather than asking herself why he’s concerned about her having feelings for him, she only takes his silence as an answer of rejection.

“Great! Just— great!” Her response makes Harry tear his gaze from the ground. “I want to split up. We’re faster if you go this way and I go that way.” She points to where the path splits in two directions.

“It’s too dangerous—”

“Don’t.” Her hand hovers between them to make sure he can’t get any closer. “I don't need your help.”

Then she turns and walks away from him into the darkness.

Harry shivers as her steps are too far away to be heard and the night around him grows colder. He tries to hear some kind of noises but other than his racing heart and his heavy breathing, it’s silent.

Well, that got fast out of control, he thinks. Maybe she doesn’t need his help but what he meant is that he definitely needs her help. Because now that he’s standing there, not one step taken, he feels the fear creep up on him. Slowly but surely.

With his head turning in every direction, focused on anything that seems out of ordinary or like it could attack him, he starts walking. His hands with whom he’s holding the gun of his Proton Back shake with nerves. “Damn it, Harry. Get a grip. You’re not a fucking coward, you’re a ghost hunter.” A bird flying out of the corn makes him jump. “Fucking—”

The palm on his chest is to soothe his heart that he’s sure of almost skipped a whole beat. In his head, he makes himself crazy and paranoid. He turns around and stops.

He makes a confused face. Has that scarecrow always been out there? With careful steps, he makes his way over to it. His face nears the face of the scarecrow, examining its look and its position. He curses himself that YN took the P.K.E.

He wants to turn around as he feels somebody tapping him on the shoulder. He faces it again. A red face makes silly grimaces at him. Caught!

“I was pretty obvious. You are a hunter, no? You should’ve noticed far sooner!” It laughs ugly and filthy.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Harry grins and raises his gun as it shoots towards him. “Maybe next time.” An orange string shoots out of the weapon, making him stumble back with its force. “See you in hell!” Harry shouts over the cracking sound of the laser-like stream, like a lasso, entangling around the red ghost that yelps once before the stream gets too tight and the ghost just bursts.

Harry wipes the sweat off his forehead. Smiling, proud with himself.

A terrified scream that pierces through his head makes Harry tear from his thoughts. The nervous feeling settles deep in his stomach. “YN!” He listens for any sound.

“Harry!” At that, he sprints to where her voice comes from. He thinks he was never faster than he is now. He curses himself as he stands in front of a closed path. Turning around he frantically looks around him. There’s a lump in his throat, his mind flickering back to their argument. It’s his fault he thinks. If he hadn’t mentioned her feelings then this wouldn’t have happened. The only thing he feels is worry.

He stops and tries to hear YN’s voice again. “Yn! Hey—” Harry rounds the corner, stopping as he notices they’re in the middle of the maze and sees her standing there, back facing him. “YN, hey. I thought something happened.”

A crease appears between Harry’s brows as registers a motion. She turns around to him. Her costume is dirty as if she’d tripped while running. With four long strides, he’s standing right in front of her, a careful hand resting on her shoulder. YN still won’t look at him.

Although he hesitates, he can’t help but to lean forward and embrace her in a tight hug. It’s nice to be wrapped around her, their bodies close, his heart pounding. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He whispers. But there’s some sort of change Harry can’t quite put his finger on. It’s the way she hasn’t said anything, the way she won’t react to his hug, the way she stands stick-still. As he pulls away, he notices the change in her eyes.

“Maybe you should give it a kiss.” She whispers.

That’s the last thing he expected her to say. “What?”

YN, it seems, is out of her trance. Having a flirtatious smile on her mouth as she blinks at him. “My lips. Maybe you should kiss them.”

He knows something is wrong. The cold that runs through his body as he locks eyes with her tells him enough already. “W-what? What are you saying, YN? What happened?”

YN rests her hand on his shoulder, light fingertips brushing down his arm and back up to his neck. Her skin is cold against his. His gaze is frightened as the delicate touch grows more violent, squeezing his neck dangerously close to where his windpipe lies. “YN…” Her name slips from his lips as he meets her eyes in question.

She silences him with her index finger pressed to his lips. “I want you to kiss me.”

“No.” He stutters, so much more unsure than he normally is.

“Harry... I want you to kiss me!” The grips of her hands on his body get ultimately tighter and her voice more aggressive.

His arms come up between hers to break the clutch and tumbles a few feet away from her onto the ground.

“Would you rather kiss me or die?” The monster in her shouts, voice low and raspy. Her eyes glimmering with everything that’s devil.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he chants in his head to YN. “I would rather die than kiss your slimy lips, that’s for sure!” Harry scrambles quickly from the ground as Yn lifts a few inches from the ground and hurtles towards him. Before he can attack Harry he gets his weapon to shoot into YN’s thigh. He gets hurled away.

A loud noise from the gun and a horrible, toe-curling yowl echoes through the silence of the night. The ghost, sheer green substance shooting into the air, leaves her body with whines and curses.

Quickly, Harry crawls to her weak body that lies a few feet away from him. Anxiety is a strange feeling. Her eyes flutter and her face looks pale.

“YN. Hey, hey.” He takes her hand in his own, squeezing to assure not only her but him too, that everything’s gonna be fine. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’ll be okay.”

“Harry…” Her mouth is dry when she tries to respond. Slowly licking her lips, she notices how his eyes fill with a sheen of tears. “Harry.”

YN wants to sit up, Harry helping her with a hand in her back, fingers brushing over the costume, and the one hand she’s still holding onto, thumb brushing over her knuckles. A few curls have fallen from his hair clip hair into the path of his eyes, tangling in his eyelashes a bit. “There’s blood on your shirt.” She mumbles staring at his torso.

Harry blinks and looks down on his Stormtrooper costume. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s not mine. I’m not hurt.”

Reality hits her as she sees the ghost clutching his body and flying in circles and loops over them in the air. “Bob.” She mutters. “You’ve got Bob.”

A familiar sensation begins to curl itself around Harry’s core. The corner of his pink lips pull up with relief washing over him. “Yes, I—yes. I’ve got Bob.” A small laugh, mostly an exhale of breath sounds from him as she raises their intertwined fists between them.

“Now or never.” She whispers, eyes glimmering at him with an emotion he’s never seen on her before.

But he nods, a small smile playing around his lips. “Now or never.”

Harry helps her get up with one wounded leg, supporting her with a hand on her elbow. He curls his fingers around the weapon, pointing to the ghost in the air. “Ready?”

YN nods. “Ready.” Doing the same as she stares at the side of his face. Harry feels her intense stare.

He smiles at her with a confused pull of his brows. “What?”

“Nothing, I—nothing.” She shrugs, laughing lightly with whatever is going through her mind. Her eyes shift to the ghost. Her hand hanging between them finds his, her pinkie hooking around his pinkie before sliding her fingers through his. The sensation of the warm skin that’s fitting so good to hers, although they’re a bit clammy, makes her shiver with goosebumps.

YN can sense him now looking at her. Like she hung the moon. Which is weirdly ironic at how the full moon is shining down on them.

Their fingers apply pressure on the button of their weapons. Harry presses his heel into the ground to strengthen his position with the power of the orange lasso that traps the supernatural creature in the air. YN tumbles beside him, but he pulls her a bit closer to his body with his hand as a blue lasso also tightens around the ghost. It screeches in pain and if Harry wouldn’t be trying to kill it while he’s holding hands with Yn to help her, he would cover his ears. But he clenches his teeth and walks together with YN towards the ghost whose body gets thinner and thinner with how tight the lasso gets.

A final yelp and it explodes. Green slime flies everywhere. The two, however, are too slow to shield from the leavings of its body.

Harry dares to open one of his eyes, wiping his eyes burning from the substance with the back of his wrist. 

“Ew.”

Harry gives her a small smile before laughing. Raking his hand through his sticky curls and turning to see a grossed out YN.

“I will never get used to this part.” She wipes over her eyes, opening them slowly to be met with Harry’s crooked smile, dimples on full display.

A grin of herself painted across her own face, so big that her cheeks ache, YN joins Harry in a fit of laughter. Clutching her belly as she giggles uncontrollably.

And as they stand there in the middle of the night on another Halloween night, lost in a corn maze with green slime all over them and stinking of vomit, Harry thinks she couldn’t look more beautiful.

He clears his throat, suddenly overcome with nerves. “I forgot to mention earlier…” He fiddles with the rings on his fingers.

She sympathetically brushes her fingertips over his hand. “It’s fine, Harry.”

“No, no. I have to say it now, otherwise…” He trails off, glancing at her reaction. “You blaming me, while having a thing for me bothers me because I-I...Well, I have a thing for you, too…”

YN pauses. “You…what?”

“I know it sounds insane, really, but I thought me teasing the hell outta you would be pretty obvious but instead you always seemed a bit reserved and like you would never bother to be with someone like me.”

“Okay, stop.” Her hand touches his cheek, stroking her thumb across his sticky cheekbone. “I think we shouldn’t talk about this here.”

A breathy chuckle escapes him as he agrees. He carefully takes her hand in his, squeezing. His eyes switch between hers. “I’ve got a collection of horror movies and pizza delivery on speed dial. Maybe you want to come over?”

She smiles as his lips brush over the knuckles of her fingers, leaving a hint of a kiss there. “My favourite leisure activity.”

So they turn around, finding the way out of the corn maze, Harry’s arm draped over her shoulders, tucking YN into his side.

“You know if you’d just kissed me, maybe then I wouldn’t have a hole in my thigh now.”

"Don’t say that! We came! We saw! We kicked its ass!"

She snorts. “You’re something else.”

I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL AND SPOOKY HALLOWEEN!

[CN] Victor’s Tennis Date

🍒Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers!🍒

Important to read the prologue first for the backstory: here [added MC’s journal entries]

MC: I can’t do it, I can’t walk anymore…

Without realizing it, Victor and I have already been on this island for around ten days.

From finding materials for work to taking breathers, we have almost seen all the sights and tried all the entertainment.

Naturally, we didn’t miss tonight’s beach buffet barbecue.

At this moment, Victor offers me an outstretched hand as I lean against a chair, unwilling to move.

Victor: Since you’re full, you should take a walk. Who was one who kept saying she wanted to finish her food quickly so she can return to her room to continue with the proposal?

MC: Just let me be lazy for a day. My whole mind is filled with barbecue prawns and barbecue fish, so I can’t think of what to write…

Despite what I said, I still take Victor’s hand and stand up.

~

The energetic music from the beach gradually grows distant. Victor and I walk away from the noise, returning to a quiet path.

MC: Where are we going tomorrow?

Victor: We can meet the client tomorrow.

MC: Ah, the client you mentioned finally arrived! I even thought he stood us up…

My words come out in a garble, probably because I drank a little too much tonight. Victor draws closer to me and leans down.

Victor: What did you say?

MC: I said… this client is even more reputable than you!

Victor: …

Filled with Dutch courage, I use my fingers to count the number of times we opposed each other.

Victor walks at my side, listening quietly.

While I continue counting, I say in a soft voice.

MC: Victor… thank you.

Victor: What, you just finished complaining, and now you’re thanking me?

MC: If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the motivation to operate the company to such a good state now.

Victor: You’re so easily satisfied?

MC: Of course I’m not! We agreed to get to the top of the business world, so I’ll be No. 1!

I leap forward, doing a “Number 1” pose towards the night sky.

Victor: If you’re doing a pose, just do it. Don’t jump around.

Victor’s deep voice carries with it a tinge of resignation, and also a tinge of connivance. Perhaps it’s just a misperception in my drunken state.

MC: The point is… I still have to thank you, Victor. I mean it.

Victor: Dummy.

MC: How am I dumb? I came here for work purposes! Eh, you still haven’t told me who the client is.

I lift my head to look at Victor, but I can only see his eyes, which appear even darker than the evening.

Victor: It’s me.

~

MC wakes up sober and sees a glass of water and hangover medicine on the bedside table

Victor’s coat is on the sofa, and she recalls how she blacked out after Victor said he was the client

MC: It can’t be… could I have misheard? Why would he go through all this trouble to be my “client”?

I rub my head, which still feels slightly hazy. I decide to freshen up and look for Victor to clarify this matter.

She goes out and sees Victor playing tennis with a young man:

Victor is in sportswear, and it’s as though his entire temperament has changed.

His eyes are focused on the tennis ball in hand, as though able to predict the trajectory of the ball from the stillness.

Soon after, he flicks his wrist upwards –

Pung!

With a sharp parabola, the ball enters the opponent’s side of the court from a tricky angle.

The young man sprints and barely returns the ball with a poor angle.

Victor easily returns the ball, swinging his arm at a beautiful angle.

A few more rounds of back and forth ensue. Seeing that he’s unable to return the final ball, the young man releases a wry smile and puts his racket away.

He grins while talking to Victor, then turns to retrieve his bag, preparing to leave the court. Before he leaves through the door, he suddenly realizes that I’m standing outside.

Young man: Are you here to play tennis?

MC: Ah, I’m not…

Victor: She’s here to look for me.

With a look of understanding, the young man smiles at us amicably before turning around to leave.

I brisk walk into the tennis court, greeting Victor with a smile.

MC: Why are you training here so early?

Victor: I’ve been training over the past few days. You only found out today because you’re always dawdling in bed.

MC: You’ll have to blame the beds on this island for being too soft and making people not want to leave them... oh right, who was that person just now?

Victor: I don’t know him. He happened to be practicing with the ball, so I invited him to play two games. On the other hand, you drank quite a lot yesterday. I thought you’d be sleeping more.

MC: I had a dream, so I woke up.

Victor: A dream?

MC: I dreamt… that you said you’d take me to meet the client today.

Victor: I think you’re not fully awake yet.

MC: So it’s really you? Have you been assessing me over all this time as the client?

I panic while recalling the itinerary of the past few days. In contrast, Victor calmly takes up the tennis bag to the side, beckoning to me.

Victor: Let’s go for breakfast first.

They head to a restaurant overlooking the sea:

MC: You’re not eating?

Victor: I’ve already eaten.

I angrily stuff a piece of omelette into my mouth, blinking at him firmly.

I know that Victor understands what I mean – he should be giving me a proper explanation. However, when he opens his mouth, I’m left stunned.

Victor: What do you think of this island?

MC: Eh?

Victor: Does it suit the theme of “Haven” mentioned in your proposal?

MC: It’s extremely suitable! Over the past few days, I’ve already thought about several places to shoot and organize activities, for example…

I suddenly remember something and look at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

MC: Wait a minute… did you bring me to this island to help me with selecting locations for the shoot?

Victor: Dummy.

MC: Why did you suddenly call me a dummy again…

Victor: Choosing the shooting locations is the second reason. As for the first reason, you can think about it yourself.

I return Victor’s gaze, but I’m unable to think about what reason could possibly be more important than the program, so I shake my head honestly.

Victor lets out a sigh.

Victor: How long has it been since you’ve had a rest?

MC: I…

In order to prepare for this program, I haven’t had a day of rest since the beginning of last month.

I usually meet Victor in LFG, so it has been a very long time since I could enjoy a leisurely breakfast with him like this.

MC: It has been a while… the financing has arrived after all, so I want to show you the results quickly.

Victor: There’s no hurry. After getting the financing, you should be even more careful with the rest of the plan. The idea of your new program is not bad, but it still needs to be polished.  

His tone is calm, but I can sense his certainty towards me in every word and sentence.

I feel a sense of warmth in my heart and I want to thank him. In the next second, Victor continues, making me swallow my words.

Victor: Anyway, the problems in your program can’t be resolved in a short time.

MC: …are there really that many issues? I was even quite confident in it…

Victor: It’s only when there are problems that improvements can be made. If you can’t find any issues, that is the true problem.

MC: Could you start with just one opinion so I can mentally prepare myself?

Victor: The very first problem…

I frantically await what he is about to say, but Victor pulls out a napkin.

He stretches out his arm, wiping off some scraps of omelette from the corner of my mouth.

Victor: …is that someone is too impatient. Finish your food first before working.

MC: …mm!

After breakfast, Victor and I return to the guest room.

Victor: Where’s your notebook?

MC: How did you know that I take notes?

Victor: Whenever someone goes to a new location, she would take out her handphone and snap pictures or write things down. She also only turns off the light very late at night… I’m not that slow.

I never thought Victor would notice this, and my face turns red.

It’s true that whenever I discover an interesting place on this island, I would note it down, and then tidy up my notes at night.

After taking the notebook from me, Victor flips through it seriously and nods.

Victor: The locations you noted down are very applicable to the theme.

MC: After having my proposals shot down so many times, of course I’ll grow!

Victor: …barely satisfactory. Elaborate more on how to use the area mentioned in this page.

MC elaborates but Victor objects to her idea. MC retorts firmly and Victor kind of gives in, telling her that she needs to produce something concrete in order for him to take back his objection

MC suggests that they play a game of tennis

MC: If I win, I will perfect the idea I mentioned earlier, and you are no longer allowed to put down my proposal. What do you think?

They head out to the court:

Victor: Judging from your confident tone just now, did you win an award for tennis like you did in billiards?

MC: Why do you remember these things… I’ve never won an award for tennis, but it was part of my P.E. classes during one semester. Don’t look down on me though! Here I come!

I cheer myself on in my heart, my body in a half bow. I toss the tennis ball gently.

Because it’s a bet, MC is taking this game very seriously. Her shots are easily returned by Victor

Victor wins the first point

MC says that she was just testing the waters, and they clarify that whoever gets 2 out of 3 points first will win

Victor: That ball… we’ll treat it as a warm-up.

Victor gets a point, and MC gets a point.

Victor raises his head. His eyes are narrowed slightly, as though seeing where the ball would land. Although he initially looks like he would lift his hand, he sets it down.

The ball lands on the line before rolling out of the court, so MC wins.

While MC celebrates, Victor walks towards her:

He reaches out to tidy my fringe, which is drenched with sweat.

Victor: Your character is really…

MC: What did you say?

Victor: Nothing much. I said that since you suddenly exerted yourself so much, you’re definitely at your limits. Are you able to walk on your own?

MC: Of course. I ate quite a lot this morning, although it feels like the calories have all been burnt…

Listening to my soft mutterings, Victor’s thin lips display a tender smile.

In the next moment, he offers me his hand.

Victor. Let’s go back to the room.

MC: Eh?

Victor: Or do you want to be left under the scorching sun?

I cast a glance at the blazing sun above us, and obediently grip Victor’s hand tightly.

In order to take care of my physical state, Victor doesn’t walk too quickly.

The intense tennis match has left a thin layer of sweat on his body. His palm meets mine, bringing with it the unique aftertaste of Summer.

MC: Victor, are you not going to acknowledge that you lost?

Victor: What are you trying to say?

MC: Since I won, can we fulfil the agreement of our bet?

Victor: I’ll consider it. Before that, show me the “concrete plan” you mentioned.

MC: Of course I’ll show you a concrete plan! Oh, there’s something non-work related that I want to ask you.

Victor: What?

MC: That line ball just now… did you let me win on purpose?

Victor: No. When it comes to winning and losing, I do not “let”. I can only say that dummies have their dummies’ luck, and sometimes I misperceive things.

MC: When?

Victor: Many times. You are the factor that always surprises me.

MC: …are you really complimenting me?

Victor: Dummy.

There is a smile in his voice when he says “dummy”, and I involuntarily raise my head to look at him. Our eyes meet.

Victor: Every surprising idea you come up with has a certain strength. It’s difficult for people to ignore. Since you’ve shown me your resoluteness, and are willing to proceed in line with your resoluteness, then…

He turns his head slightly and lowers his eyes to mine. His deep voice and the breeze enter my ears.

Victor: I will hand you my trust.

I blink, and then realise what his words mean.

MC: So that means… you’ve agreed!

Victor: For the time being.

I let out a cheer and want to lift my hands, but Victor gives my fingers a light squeeze.

Victor: Are you going to start hopping around again?

MC: I just want to express my happiness for a while…

I tell him what I didn’t manage to do so earlier. Something even more important than a ‘thank you’.

MC: Victor, shall we treat this as a tie?

Victor: Why, do you want to have another game?

MC: In the future.

The trees provide shade from the blazing sun, and a few rays of light descend on the both of us.

In our reciprocal clashing of swords, my scoreboard with him will continue on.

At the end, we will both win, reaching the goal together.

🎾

[ Moments 1 ]

Victor’s Post: Didn’t think there would be cats on the island.

MC: Where! Where is the cat!

Victor: ........on the island.

-

Victor’s Post: Didn’t think there would be cats on the island.

MC: When compared to Pudding, which is cuter?

Victor: Each has its own strengths.

-

Victor’s Post: Didn’t think there would be cats on the island.

MC: What kind of a cat is it?

Victor: A cat which is even greedier than you.

🎾

[ Moments 2 ]

Victor’s Post: Someone who rarely wins has just won a game, and her tail is raised to the sky.

MC: I feel so happy today that I can eat a whole bowl of rice~

Victor: Who just told me yesterday that she wanted to lose weight?

[Note: Victor says “尾巴翘上天” which literally translates to “tail raised to the sky”. It refers to extreme arrogance]

-

Victor’s Post: Someone who rarely wins has just won a game, and her tail is raised to the sky.

MC: Let’s compete in a different sport next time!

Victor: ...put such a heart of victory and defeat into your work more often.

-

Victor’s Post: Someone who rarely wins has just won a game, and her tail is raised to the sky.

MC: Being able to win against you can be recorded as one of my life’s grandest achievements!

Victor: A dummy is truly easy to please.

Kickin it old school

Bucky Barnes x Deadpool!Reader

What happenes when Bucky falls in love with Y/n, otherwise known as Deadpool, the famous Merc with a Mouth? Can he break down her walls and enter the chaos that is her heart? 

WARNING: Mature language and suggestive themes

It started with a giggle. A little inappropriate giggle, underlined with drunken crudeness. It was a giggle that was accompanied by a dark, lustful smile and an even darker gaze. It was the kinda giggle that came from a girl who had never quite done it but had done enough hand and mouth stuff to no longer be completely innocent. A timid but craving giggle. A nasty giggle. 

Valkyrie had come to the compound for a meeting, nothing more. But with Y/n’s insistence she stayed around for their daily training. They held it outside today, allowing Sam to practice some group maneuvers with his wings and his passed down shield. Valkyrie went easy at first, not yet knowing the extent of Y/n’s power or how much she could take. 

But soon Y/n’s dirty and foul comments became more irritating than amusing and without much thought she forced Y/n back, making her fly across the yard. It wouldn’t have been such a damaging fall, no Y/n had survived much worse. Yet the decorative fence surrounding the building was an unforgiving cushion and Y/n’s head was soon impaled upon one metal spike. If her mind wasn’t so foggy she might’ve made a joke about being like an overthrown king, whose head was then displayed throughout the kingdom on a pike.  

Thankfully Sam wasted no time in making the joke, much to Valkyrie’s horror. She had killed many beings in her time, a lot without any cause or honor but this was different. The object of training wasn’t to kill your opponent but rather to better them. However there Y/n was, unmoving and what appeared to be dead upon the lawn. 

“Gods.” Valkyrie’s muffled voice came to Y/n like a blur. Y/n twitched, doing her best to lift herself off the spike. It was metal and quite firmly attached to the rest of the fence so she knew she had to find a way to work herself up to the top. 

Then the giggle came. The sultry giggle Wade used to love. 

“Deadpool, are you alright?” Valkyrie questioned, but was met with no response as Y/n gazed around her, some cheesy 90s song that had been long lost in her subconscious now filling the air around her. Valkyrie stepped into view like an angel coming to rescue her and Y/n couldn’t help but reach out to her as the woman broke the spike and brought Y/n up into her arms. 

Valkyrie was relieved to hear Y/n couldn’t die though the rather annoyed way Sam said it was alarming. Y/n’s white lenses widened as she reached out for Valkyrie’s face, letting her gloved hand caress her skin. 

Sam emerged somewhere from behind but Y/n paid no mind, finding Valkyrie’s confused expression almost…sexy? She couldn’t think straight but for what she was going to do, she didn’t need to. 

Y/n accepted the music in her head and the image before her, bringing both hands up with two fingers pointing into Vs. Y/n wasted no time in making very indecent gestures, only furthering Valkyrie’s confusion. Y/n couldn’t even hear Sam’s mock disgust as her hand drifted to her mouth motioning a lick between her two fingers though her mask covered her mouth. 

Valkyrie looked back to Y/n with an amused but uninterested smile before another set of arms took hold of Y/n. The cool metal under her back was different from the metal in her head and she found herself leaning into it for comfort. A scent so familiar filtered through her mask and she inhaled deeply, enjoying it more than the smoke from her guns. 

Looking up she was met with Bucky, his kind blue eyes and even warmer expression sending chills through her high state. Very much like Valkyrie, he fell victim to Y/n’s sexual gestures, her palm forming a circle in front of her mouth as she bobbed it closer and closer to her face. He didn’t respond, at least not that she could tell in the disoriented state she was in, instead setting her down upon her feet. 

Taking that as a go ahead, she began to sink to her knees but before her fingers could begin to dig into his waistband, his metal fingers wrapped around the spike, yanking it harshly out of her skull. 

The music stopped instantly and everything went cold around her as she collapsed into the grass. She groaned, gripping her head as an agonizing headache tore through her brain. “Oh fuck!" 

"She’s back to normal. If you can even call her that.” Sam teased as Valkyrie stepped forward to check on Y/n. Bucky stood in front of them, closest to Y/n and she now took notice of the pink dusting his face and the uneasy shift of his hips. 

“How did you survive that?” Valkyrie questioned, curiously as Sam tugged the shield out of a poor nearby tree. 

Y/n shrugged lazily, rolling over onto her side to climb back to her feet, blood still pooling in the lawn beside her. “Can’t die. Headshots only make me loopy.” Y/n explained, circling her finger next to her head dramatically as she struggled to piece together any coherent thoughts. 

“Yes, so I gathered.” Valkyrie laughed, referring to Y/n’s lewd suggestions. Y/n only shrugged shamelessly. 

“Well, if you’re ever up for it, you know where I’m at. I’ll even let you stab me again if that’s what you’re into.” Y/n winked, missing Bucky’s slight frown as he started back toward the compound. 

She didn’t know he’d only come out upon hearing a sickening squish of her skull sinking down the spike. She didn’t know he’d rushed to the lawn and nearly had a heart attack when he saw her. Didn’t know that even though she was practically immortal he still feared for her life. Didn’t know he’d give his for hers in an instant. 

Valkyrie smiled at the offer but didn’t give a response instead leaving Y/n guessing. She liked it when they played hard to get anyways. 

“Dead, c'mere.” Sam called over causing Y/n to turn away from Valkyrie’s retreating figure. She made her way over to him, still dizzy from her brain repairing itself but managed to make it over to the tree where he’d instructed. 

“Try catching the shield, I don’t think I’m throwing it hard enough." 

Bucky froze at the request, already sensing what a terrible idea it was. Yet before he could even begin to object Y/n complied, bracing herself in preparation. 

"Wait." 

His words hung limply on his tongue, exactly what he feared would happen, happening the second he spoke. Sam yelled out an apology as Y/n yanked her hand out from under the shield where it had been pinned to the tree. 

She didn’t cry or scream in pain, instead giving a frustrated shout as she jerked herself back, ripping her finger off in the process. 

"Aw, pussyshit." 

•••

"Ha! Sam, look! Baby finger!” Y/n wiggled her tiny middle finger, thrusting it into Sam’s face. He recoiled in disgust, forcing away her hand. 

“Ew, no! I don’t wanna see that thing.” He cried, pushing her off his desk. Y/n shrieked as she tumbled to the ground, landing flat on her ass. 

“Shit.” She groaned a little, choosing to sprawl out instead, too lazy to get back up. “Come on! You’re the dumbass that chopped it off. Masturbating is going to suck ass! What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” She pushed her hand forward once more, smirking as he spared it a cautious glance. Immediately Sam looked away again, shaking his head in distaste. 

Her hand fell against her stomach, her other hand coming to massage the little finger as it grew in. But before she could continue to terrorize Sam the automatic door slid open, heavy boots clambering into the room. 

“Y/n, what are you doing on the floor?” His deep voice sent familiar chills through her spine and she quickly sat up, trying with all her might to ignore the feeling. Bucky looked down at her, his brows furrowed in confusion as he nudged her leg softly. 

“Cause this jackass, pushed me off the desk.” Y/n replied as she kicked Sam’s chair, crushing his leg against the side of his desk. He grunted painfully, shooting her a deadly glare before Bucky intervened. 

“How about we call this even before things get out of hand?” He sighed, rubbing his forehead like an agitated parent. 

“I don’t even want to hear the word ‘hand’.” Sam groaned. Y/n gasped, angrily rising to her feet and throwing her hands up wildly. 

“You cut it off, you stupid shit suckle!” She screeched, fuming at this point.  

“I told you, I’m still getting used to the shield!" 

"Eat a cock!” Y/n shot back. 

Bucky sighed, grabbing hold of Y/n’s hand to inspect it carefully. All the vulgar words she had planned to use on Sam were quickly lost to her flustered thoughts and her scarred face fell into an awestruck expression. 

Thankfully he didn’t see the pink that dusted her cheeks, only frowning slightly at her new appendage. It was small in his larger hands, but so was the rest of her hand and she quickly retracted it before she could start to enjoy the feeling. Bucky’s fingers followed hers for a split second, chasing the warmth that she provided but he caught himself, letting his hands drop to his side with a deeper frown. 

“How long will it take for it to grow back?” He asked. She shrugged, looking down at the dried patches of blood still lingering around the new finger. 

“Eh, like 10 minutes. I’ll be fine. One time this huge motherfucker, Juggernaut, ripped me clean in half like a damn phone book. Well, it wasn’t clean. It was messy-it was so fucking terrible.” Y/n laughed, unaware of the alarmed look Bucky and Sam shared. 

“What happened to your legs?” Sam questioned reluctantly, knowing the answer wasn’t something he really wanted to know. He was just so damn curious. 

“No idea.” Y/n hummed quietly, looking off into the distance as if searching for her literal other half. The men watched her with vivid concern, trying in vain to force away their own theories about the whereabouts of Y/n’s legs. 

“We have another mission. Suit up and meet at the jet in an hour.” Bucky told them, his voice stony in a way that only happened when he was upset. He then turned, storming out of the room leaving Sam and Y/n with equally confused faces. 

“The fucks wrong with Terminator?” Y/n questioned, jerking a thumb back at the door. Sam shrugged, lifting himself up from his desk, trying not to give Y/n the satisfaction of watching him limp. She noticed though. She always did. 

•••

“Getting real tired of these HYDRA motherfuckers!” Y/n yelled, firing at one of the agents as she ran down the infinite looking hall. Bucky ran alongside her, his metal arm braced out in front of them to deflect bullets. 

Well most of them. 

“Fuck!” Y/n screamed, slamming her hand down over her left breast with an appalled expression. Bucky froze as did the HYDRA agent that shot her, equally shocked. 

“You shot me in the fucking boob!” She screamed, disbelief and vengeance lacing her words. “Oh shit, that fucking does it. I’m shooting you right in the dick, cum bucket.” She promised, her smile venomous as she directed the gun at the man’s groin and fired without hesitation. 

The man cried out in agony as he fell to his knees, making Bucky visibly flinch beside her as she shot again. “Y/n.” He warned, looking around at the hall which was slowly flooding with more agents. “We have to move on." 

"Not yet. Not until this guy’s kids come out of his bitch like pudding!” Y/n stepped forward, firing again even though the man had already become unconscious. Only the click from her empty clip seemed to calm her rage and she growled in frustration. 

“Stupid!” Y/n shouted at herself, slamming the now unless gun into her thigh holster. The man on the ground with an ever growing puddle of red growing around his lower half was a gruesome sight but it made her smile. “Worth it.” She whispered with a smirk. 

“Sam’s waiting for us outside!” Bucky reminded, turning around them and kicking one of the agents into the group behind him. The harshness in which he had been forced into them made them fall, buying Bucky and Y/n sometime while they recovered but not much. “The elevator is our best bet outta here." 

No sooner had he said it, Bucky immediately stopped, glaring at the sight before them. A dozen men came around the corner, blocking their path with an older man in a suit at the front. 

"Whoa there, buddy, you’re within 100 feet of a school. Don’t make me call your parole officer.” Y/n mocked, putting her hands on her hips as she stared down the man at the center. 

His brows furrowed in confusion and he looked around at the other men, hoping one of them might fill him in. The agents behind the pair had gotten back to their feet, coming to block the other direction of the hall, cutting off all means of escape. 

“You have nowhere to run, give us the drive and I promise your death will be quick.” The man demanded. Y/n glanced over at Bucky, her taunting expression obvious to him even under her mask. He couldn’t help but let a small smile slip as she turned back to the man. 

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there, pal. Sorry to steal your whole Dr. Evil moment but there’s been a change of plans.” Y/n started, menacingly stepping toward the man. There was still a fair distance between them but it was close enough to make the man cower. 

“If you leave right now, I might-

let you keep your hands. If not, well, let’s just say you’re gonna have a tough time tickling your pickle tonight.” She smirked at the older man. Some of the men were baffled by the woman before them, unsure if they should be fighting her or not. Seriousness was never one of Y/n’s strong suits. Unlike people such as Captain America and Colossus, Y/n ran on violence and smartass remarks. This was in every aspect of her life even in her grieving process and while this wasn’t the healthiest of methods she didn’t really care. 

“Kill them.” The man ordered, sinking back into the group, as they stepped threateningly closer. Y/n nearly smiled under her mask. She loved it when they played it hard to get. 

“Time to kick it old school.” Y/n announced, reaching behind her and tugging free her dual swords. She spun them expertly in her hands, bringing one above her head while the other stretched out in front of her. “Bring it on, cock thistle." 

Bucky stood in awe as he watched her. The thumping in his chest was a forgotten feeling. It was something that died when he fell off the train and only just recently had it been revived. Ironically it was the one woman who couldn’t die who had brought his ability to love back to life. 

And for that she owned his heart. 

A single bullet rang out but Y/n was much faster than the bullet, swinging down the katana and slicing it clean in half. A moment of confused silence rang out through the hall, tension rising faster than the bullet that just tore through the air. 

Like the shot at the beginning of a race, the simple sound made everyone erupt into conflict. Multiple men swormed Bucky, crashing him into the wall but struggling to pin him there. Bucky was stronger than all of them but they just kept coming, a mess of men grabbing hold of his limbs and immobilizing him. 

Y/n charged forward, dropping to her knees and leaning back as she moved to slide under the man closest to her. He cried out as she cut off his hand, a soft thud on the ground telling her that her sword had gone clean through. She rose again, turning and bringing one of her feet up to plant herself before, digging her katana into the man’s back. The man fell limp on the ground, his dismembered hand still gripping the gun he had pointed at her. 

"Need a hand?!” Y/n shouted, glancing over at Bucky’s predicament. He looked back at her, his face twisted into a provoked expression. That was the only answer she needed and she quickly rolled under the rain of gunfire directed at her, landing a few feet from Bucky. She stretched out her sword, sliding the edge through the small space next to the tigger, lifting the gun and hurling it in Bucky’s direction. 

He caught it effortlessly, overlapping his metal fingers atop the dead man’s butchered hand and pressing the barrel to one agent’s skull. He made quick work at taking out three of the men, evening the playing field enough to overpower the men. He shouted as he forced himself forward, his pure brute force powerful enough to throw back a few of the men. 

Taking advantage of their stupor, he hammered his fist into the face of the agent next to him, causing blood to spill from his nose as he stumbled back. Bringing his elbow back into the next man, he knocked him unconscious before breaking free. Bucky pivoted on his heel to attack the agent hurling themselves at him once more. His hands came to fist the straps of the man’s uniform, thrusting him up into the ceiling and shattering the fluorescent light above them. The agent fell into a pile on the floor, the glass from the light scattering over his unconscious form. 

Y/n launched to her feet, slamming her knee into the chest of another man forcing him into the wall before driving her sword into his chest. Once retracting the blade, he sunk to the ground smearing blood down the wall as he collapsed. Quickly returning to her feet, she sprinted a few feet, pounding her foot into the wall as she vaulted over the next man, slicing his throat as she went.

“You stupid bitch!” A voice shouted over the chaos, catching Y/n’s attention. She tilted her head as she looked at him, the white lenses in her mask widening. 

“Excuse me, shit brains? Since I’m an Avenger now that’s terrorism right?” She questioned, turning to Bucky. Noticing he was occupied she rounded back to the man, narrowing her eyes at him. “As Scoutmaster Kevin once told me many years ago.” Y/n took large strides as she made her way to him, murderous intent rolling off of her in waves as she wiped the blood from her sword onto her leather clad forearm. 

“I’m about to fuck your shit up." 

The man howled in pain as she pelted her sword into his knee, the sharpened blade piercing through his kneecap and burying itself into the floor behind him. Y/n ran forward, kicking the blade further in causing the joint to snap with a sickening crunch. 

Grabbing hold of the man’s head, she flew forward, flipping over him as she balanced her weight on his already unsteady form. She landed behind him, pulling his head back with a harsh tug. Knocking out his other knee, she forced him down, bringing her other katana to his throat while her foot rose to settle between his shoulder blades. In one swift movement, she pushed him down, digging her blade into his neck with a satisfying slice. 

Bucky met her eye as the man dropped, the gurgling from his throat echoing through the hall. Bucky’s gaze was surprised but not disgusted. Instead he marveled at the sight of her, astonished by Y/n’s display of atrocious violence yet fierce beauty. Never had he seen anything like it before Y/n entered his life and while he should’ve been horrified by half of the things she did he couldn’t. Because ever since she joined their team she had only done those things to destroy the same organization that had destroyed him. And he couldn’t get enough. 

Y/n looked away, flustered under his gaze. She couldn’t handle the way he sent chills down her spine and butterflies to her stomach. It was cliche but it was happening and she refused to face it. "I see the elevator.” She told him, catching sight of the leader trying to run out of the corner of her eye. Her head whipped around, her hand reaching forward to grab the blade still plunged in the dead man’s knee before chucking it at the escapee. 

The sword sunk into his skull pinning him to the wall as Bucky took out the remaining men beside him. “We have to hurry, our cover’s been blown and Sam can’t wait around for too long.” Y/n nodded in acknowledgement, sheathing her sword as he came to stand next to her. 

Y/n glanced around at the bodies scattered around the hall. It was quite a scene, blood splattered along the walls and floor, bullet holes littering the plaster and the light fixture above them flickering wildly as it struggled to keep the hall lit. 

“Oh, I am so touching myself tonight.” Y/n groaned at the sight making a soft pink flush across Bucky’s cheeks. The mere thought of it sent blood rushing to his face and he shifted awkwardly as it rushed to other places as well. But before he could mumble an embarrassed response, shouts from more agents echoed down the hall cutting short any sort of awkward conversation he could have mustered. He quickly shuffled through the corpses, dragging Y/n along with him as she quickly plucked her other sword from the man’s skull.  

They ran around the corner coming up on the elevator fast. The agents giving chase were catching up and Bucky urged Y/n in front of him, instinctively trying to protect her. Once reaching the elevator, he ripped open the doors, too distracted by the growing danger the agents presented to notice the fact that the elevator wasn’t even there as he stepped forward. 

But Y/n noticed and she quickly grabbed him, spinning them to where he was out of the way. However in the process she forced herself over the edge, falling back clumsily. 

For a split second Bucky reached forward, trying desperately to catch her but she was already falling. She slipped through his fingers dropping the eleven floors to the bottom of the elevator shaft, landing with a sickening thud. 

Bucky choked on his breath, staring down at her still and twisted form as his heart clenched in his chest. Flashbacks of his own fall began to overwhelm his already cluttered mind and he almost wanted to scream. 

It was 2 agonizing seconds before she moved, a loud shout echoing through the shaft. 

“Motherfucker! I think I just shat my spleen!” Y/n moaned, rolling onto her side. Bucky let out a relieved chuckle and looked behind him, mumbling his own curse before jumping down after her. His metal arm grasped onto the cables, slowing his fall but the screeching of metal on metal seemed to amplify in the confined space. 

Once reaching the bottom he jumped off, crouching down beside her as her blood began to pool around her head. “Shit! I don’t know what hurt more, falling eleven stories or listening to your arm! It’s like two tractors trying to- Fuck!” She cried as his arms slid under her body, pulling her up against his chest. 

“I found the elevator.” Y/n laughed dryly as she pointed above them, the said elevator hanging a few floors above the floor they had been on. “How convenient.” She mumbled, glaring up at the air as if focusing her annoyance toward a certain writer who enjoyed torturing her readers. 

Bucky was oblivious to her turmoil, instead shaking his head at his stupidity and cursing himself for letting his feelings for her distract him. It was his fault she fell. Is this how guilty Steve had felt?

“We’ll have to have Sam meet us on the ground instead.” Bucky grunted, kicking open the doors to the ground level. He ran out into the room, his grip on Y/n remaining firm as he headed to the exit. 

“Nothing like falling 100 or so feet to get you going, am I right?” Y/n snickered at her own joke, trying to ignore the erratic beating of her heart as his cologne invaded her senses. 

They made it out, the sky blooming in a beautiful shade of orange as the sun began to set. Y/n admired it for a moment, smiling when the quinjet came into view. Allowing her to slip out of his arms, Bucky planted his hands on her waist to insure she was steady before bashfully shying away as Sam landed. 

“Come on!” He shouted, opening the back ramp for them. Bucky followed Y/n as she ran up to the jet and climbed up the ramp, keeping an eye behind them as the HYDRA agents ran outside. The ramp closed just in time and Y/n let out a relieved laugh as she fell onto the bench inside, whopping amusingly. 

“Well, that was a shit show. Got this little fucker though.” She grunted, pulling the drive out of one of her pockets before handing it over to Sam. He accepted it, eyeing her with a rare look of concern. 

“What the hell happened to you?" 

"Decided to take a swan dive off the eleventh floor. Not my highest record but still fucked me in the ass.” She laughed, tugging off her mask. Her hair was matted and bloody, sticking up in one spot from her mask but any effort at soothing it was pointless. The scarred tissue around her lips and nose contorted in discomfort and sweat had coated her brow from their fight. 

She was healing already but it didn’t ease her any as her bones reset and her organs reformed. It was an excruciating process but she didn’t complain, instead pulling out her gun and observing it as Bucky sat down next to her. 

“Who’s balls I gotta fondle to get some tacos? I’m starving.” She nagged, dropping her mask and gun on the floor before stretching out across the bench on her stomach. Her head rested on Bucky’s leg making his blood run cold as her chin brushed the inside of his thigh. 

“You offering?” Sam replied, raising a suggestive brow as Y/n’s new position. 

“You wish.” Y/n winked at him, making Sam shake his head disapprovingly. 

“Eh, you’re not my type.” He insisted, sharing a playful glare with her. They had a confusing relationship but most of her relationships were. Sam didn’t hesitate to tease her or join in on her pranks, much to Bucky’s chagrin. Y/n rather enjoyed Sam’s company and she knew he felt the same though they seemed to hate each other. 

“I’m nobody’s type, Warren Worthington. I’m kinda the, 'if I squint really hard I can pretend you’re the non-blue version of Mystique- Lawrence not Romijn- so I’ll fuck you’ kinda gal.” She rambled, not caring to explain who the hell she was talking about. But she didn’t have to. Bucky was already frowning. 

Y/n wasn’t lacking confidence, no that was the one thing she had an abundance of. She knew exactly what people thought of her horribly scarred body and she chose not to give a shit. But what upset Bucky the most was the fact that she believed herself to be unwanted. Did she truly believe that she was undesirable or was she just joking? 

“Want some?” Y/n questioned beside him, holding up a small white package labelled 'Y/n’s cocaine’. He shook his head, his brows furrowing as he wondered why on Earth she thought that moment was a good time to offer him cocaine. Or how any time was the right time.  

She shrugged, ripping open the bag and pouring some of the white powder into her gloved hand and inhaling it harshly. He winced at the sight but her drug problem wasn’t the cause of his downcast expression. Rather the fact that the beautiful woman who had introduced herself as Deadpool seemed to be oblivious to his feelings. 

Bucky couldn’t get the sick feeling to subside the whole way back to the newly rebuilt compound. 

•••

“Here I go, here I go, here I go again. Girls, what’s my weakness? Men!” Y/n sang along, ignoring the strange looks from the man in the elevator as she danced along with the song blaring on her portable radio. “Ok then, chillin’, chillin’, mindin’ my business." 

The elevator opened on the floor where most living quarters and showers were kept, hers included and she stepped out with a bit of a jig as she kept pace with the beat. "Yo, Salt, I looked around, and I couldn’t believe this. I swear, I stared, my niece, my witness.” The soft patter of her feet down the hall was soothing as she lifted her arms above her head, swaying slightly with the music as she twirled, barely missing the agent who was coming out of his own room. 

“The brother had it goin’ on with somethin’ kinda, uh. Wicked, wicked had to kick it

I’m not shy so I asked for the digits.” Y/n rolled her shoulder rhythmically as she side-stepped past him, keeping her moves swift and joyful as she danced along to the song. The showers weren’t too far now but her loud music was slowly catching the attention of people who had already called it a night, summoning them out into the hall. 

“A ho? No, that don’t make me. See what I want slip slide to it swifty. Felt it in my hips so I dipped back to my bag of tricks.” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as Bucky stepped out into the hall. He was dressed in a much more comfortable looking attire of sweatpants and a t-shirt and while it was plain it still sent a familiar tingle to her core. 

Opting to push aside her unwelcomed feelings toward the man, she continued on deciding to have a little fun with it as she went. 

“Then I flipped for a tip, make me wanna do tricks for him.” She spoke along to the song, making eye contact with Bucky as she did. His eyes seemed to glue to her hips, watching them with a guilty expression, the gentleman in him fighting his obvious stares. He tried with all his might to drag his gaze elsewhere, only managing to lift them to her half-masked face with a flustered expression. 

“Lick him like a lollipop should be licked.” Y/n winked, flicking her tongue sensually. The line sent a deep flush to his cheeks as she came to stand before him, her fingers racking his t-shirt. 

“Came to my senses and I chilled for a bit. Don’t know how you do the voodoo that you do. So well it’s a spell, hell, makes me wanna shoop shoop shoop.” Y/n smirked, spinning on the ball of her foot and walking off toward the showers, a bit of a pep in her step as she left Bucky absolutely flabbergasted. 

The music faded along with the scent of her perfume and Bucky lingered on the senses, his heart racing wildly. He was so distracted in fact that when Sam crept up beside him, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he followed after Y/n, he didn’t even try to object. For now he would bask in what was left of her presence and the frantic pace of his heart. 

But he couldn’t enjoy the feeling for long. 

•••

“Sam!" 

Bucky knew he would regret not stopping his birdbrained friend. Said perpetrator now ran full speed down the hall toward the kitchen, arms cradling Y/n’s suit urgently. Sam sprinted behind Bucky, hoping his super soldier best friend might be able to spare him his life as the raging Merc with a Mouth made her way to him. 

Poor Bucky didn’t even have time to process what Sam’s arms held before, Y/n came storming in clad in only her mask, water dripping from her untucked hair and other areas. "Sam, you dick kicking fucktard! Give me my fucking suit, now!” Bucky tried in vain to shield his eyes but it was too late. He had seen enough to fuel his fantasies for the rest of his life and any hope at burying his painfully unreciprocated feelings were now dead. 

“No! You practically live in this thing, it’s disgusting!” Sam yelled back, climbing onto the counter to stuff the suit behind the fridge. “You’re banned from it until you wash it!" 

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?! You crammed it in further than a priest goes into a 6 year old boy!” Y/n screamed back, marching threateningly over to the counter where Sam stood. 

Bucky didn’t know what he admired more, her lack of shame as she paraded around in the nude or her lack of remorse as she grabbed Sam’s ankle, brutally yanking him and causing him to crash onto the hard surface. 

“Motherfucker! I did not come down here and ruin that poor teenage boy’s virgin eyes for you to be a punk ass bitch!” She screamed, pointing in the direction she had just come from. Sam groaned, sparing a glance in the direction. 

“What’s Spiderbrat doing here?” He huffed, gripping his ribs tightly as he tried to rise from the ground. 

“I don’t know.” Bucky mumbled, putting his hand against his temple as he attempted to remove the soaked Y/n from his sights. 

“Spiderman?! That was Spiderman?! I have an obligation to the fans!” Y/n cheered excitedly before spinning around and running off down the hall. “Wait Spidey!” She cried, her feet slapping the tile in wet smacks. 

“I swear to God if she takes his virginity. Y/n!” Sam yelled after her, flying up from the ground and speeding after her. Y/n screamed as she slipped, a loud crash echoing down the hall as Sam cried out in pain. 

Bucky practically shook as he struggled to erase her from his mind. He couldn’t do this to himself. It was in her nature to be inappropriate and flirtatious. He couldn’t allow himself to read into it. He couldn’t handle the rejection.  

•••

Bucky needed some air. He had sat in his room for an hour trying to recover his composure. His heart still raced and his face hurt from how much he had been blushing but nothing seemed to stop it. 

Venturing up to the roof wasn’t like him. Usually he would go on a run or try his luck at the training room but today he wanted to just sit alone and think. However once reaching the roof he found that wouldn’t be the case. 

Y/n hummed quietly along to her radio, swinging her feet cheerfully over the edge of the building as she sewed back together the bullet holes in her recovered suit. It was a routine of hers, one she only started to develop when Blind Al refused to do it anymore. 

Bucky stepped forward quietly, not recognizing the tune but loving the way it sounded from her. She wore a simple pair of shorts and tank top, exposing much of her scarred skin but not as much as he had seen earlier. He was grateful she unknowingly took pity on him but covering up, coming to stand a few feet behind her. 

Tying off the sting, she reached over to the box of band-aids, pulling out a Hello Kitty themed one before slapping it on over the stitch. Y/n cheered out triumphantly, holding up her suit to inspect it before draping it over the ledge beside her. A half eaten burrito was set on her other side and she absently reached for it, taking a bite out of it as she bobbed her head to the music. 

“You wanna bite?” She questioned, mouth still full with the food. Bucky mentally cursed himself for being caught but gave into her offer, coming to stand beside her. She handed him her burrito and he hesitantly took it, biting into it carefully. 

“You owe me 5 bucks. That show you got downstairs wasn’t free.” Y/n smirked, lighting the tense atmosphere a little. Looking up at her, he had no choice when a smile crept onto his face. Everything about her seemed to fill him with a giddy excitement, like riding a roller coaster. Y/n was a roller coaster of a person. 

“Only 5 bucks. Little cheap if you ask me.” He replied smoothly, earning a giggle from her. She shrugged shamelessly, swinging her legs over to his side of the ledge. 

“Gave you the ol’ bestie discount. Pay 10 dollars more and I’ll even throw in a night of your wildest dreams.” Y/n winked, hating how much she adored the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

He shook his head with a light chuckle. “No, I wouldn’t want it to happen like that.” He replied, flinching at his own words. Her brow furrowed but judging by his mortified expression she decided to leave it alone. 

Grabbing his hand she gestured for him to sit next to her and he did, climbing up cautiously as she turned back around. It was strangely soothing on the edge, the risk of falling sending a small thrill through them. Y/n had a way of giving him tiny bursts of joy, something he’d never experienced before. Not for a very long time. 

He couldn’t begin to describe the way she could make his heart race with a simple glance. In training when she takes him down he finds the fact that she could end him with ease peculiarly enticing. He’d experienced a variety of experimental drugs but never the recreational type. Though he imagined the high he’d receive would be very similar to how Y/n made him feel. 

She gave him a buzz that he slowly began to crave. Life before her just seemed so dull and he never wanted to go back to that. He’d become a bit of an addict for her presence and he felt safe in doing so. Losing her to the ravages of battle as he had so many before was impossible and Bucky felt that his feelings toward her could help him move on. 

The breeze flushed against their bodies, turning Y/n’s attention to the stars flickering above. The way she gazed up beside him, reminded Bucky of dates he had in the 40s. They were simple and sweet, always ending with a soft peck to his cheek or lips.

Imagining Y/n on one of these dates was like seeing a pig fly but he didn’t care. His old life was gone and no one helped him move on from it better than Y/n even if she was unaware. In the past women were polite and lovable and Y/n was anything but. 

She was foul mouthed and wildly inappropriate, constantly saying things he would’ve never dreamed of hearing from the women he used to date. Her dark humor was wrong and he still struggled to understand it at times. She killed without hesitation or remorse and in the most gruesome ways one could imagine, not giving the action a second thought. All of this was new to him and while at first he disliked everything she stood for, he couldn’t help but fall in love with her as time passed. 

She was everything that was so new to him, yet still carrying the underlying characteristics he loved so much. She was brave and reckless, willing to give her life for others. Her morals were still there yet buried deep within her, never to be exposed unless she encountered something truly corrupt. 

Her decisions were rash and not thought through, her lack of mortality seeming to make most situations trivial to her. But he suspected she was like that even before her mutation. Despite her carelessness in battle, she cared so much more than she’d let anyone know. People she considered friends, need never fear any danger for she would eliminate any threat that dared show its face. 

But what he loved the most was her strength. While her physical abilities were amazing and dared outmatch his own, he loved her emotional strength more. She had experienced so much pain, like he had but she still managed to smile. Still managed to make him smile. And he loved her for it. 

“Thank you for saving my life today.” He spoke earnestly. Y/n shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, gazing out over the city. 

“No worries. Couldn’t have ya becoming a pancake, now could we?” She laughed, trying to mask the true worry that started to set in. What if he had fallen instead of her? What would she have done?

'Probably would have gone after him.’ Y/n sighed silently, knowing it was true. 

“No, I guess not.” Bucky offered a smile, hoping she didn’t notice the guilt in his eyes. Another uncomfortable silence settled over them but Y/n didn’t seem to mind. 

“You’re beautiful.” Bucky mumbled quietly, almost timid under her stunned stare. He didn’t regret saying it, only wishing he had said it more often. 

The way the night sky accented her face was glorious even though she was scarred. Her scars had never really been an issue to him. The first time he had seen them she was reluctant but understood their need to see the person behind the mask to gain their full trust. He hadn’t been anticipating such intense scars but he wasn’t repulsed by them. In fact he thought she was breathtaking and he wondered just how different she had looked without them. 

When she explained how the scarring had come to be, telling them that her disfigurement was actually because of her cancerous cells mutating, he felt sorry for her. He knew what it was like to be tortured until he became something else and he hated the idea of her experiencing it as well. Yet even through all that she insisted she was 'a sexy motherfucker’ and he couldn’t help but agree. 

Her hair swayed with the breeze, falling gracefully around her face and outlining her shocked expression as she tried to figure out if he had really complimented her or if she had just misheard him over the music. The glimmer of sincerity in his eyes caused her heart to leap, making it harder to reply. 

Her eyes were her most beautiful feature. The one thing that hadn’t changed since her mutation and he found that he was able to read her better through her eyes. Whether or not her eyes displayed the same enjoyment her smile showed, told him everything he needed to know since she covered almost everything about her with some smartass remark. Her eyes gave her away. Her eyes were everything. 

“Thank you.” Y/n whispered, unable to piece together any sort of snarky reply. She couldn’t even break her stare as she gazed into his compassionate eyes. A tug at her heart pulled her toward him and as much as she tried to fight it she couldn’t shake it. 

Bucky felt it too as he cautiously leaned forward, his metal hand coming to caress her cheek as his eyes absently dropped to her lips. Her breath flushed over his own sending chills along his skin. Their lips ghosted over one another, barely brushing in the tenderest of touches. 

Yet a sudden change of song sent Y/n tearing herself from his grasp, a crestfallen expression taking place of her once longing gaze. The upbeat tune rattled her to the core, dredging up the memories she so desperately tried to subdue. 

We're talking away.

I don't know what, I'm to say. 

I'll say it anyway. 

Today's another day to find you

“What? What’s wrong?” Bucky gasped, pulling away with a concerned frown as he reached out to hold her arms. She shied away from his touch, making him instantly retract his hands, fear of hurting her flashing across his face. 

“No, uh, I’m okay. I’m sorry I’m just-I…” she trailed off trying to find the words to blame it on herself. She knew Bucky still feared the Soldier that lurked in the darkest parts of his mind, waiting for the right moment to break free and destroy everything and everyone he cared for. She knew she was one of those people. And she knew she had just terrified him by moving away but she couldn’t help it. 

“I’m not ready for this." 

Shying away. 

I'll be coming for your love, okay?

Take on me. Take me on.

I'll be gone. In a day or two

"I’m not ready for something meaningful. I’m not ready for you." 

Bucky’s face fell at her confession, shifting away from her. She wanted to reach out or say something, anything to make him stay but the ever growing guilt in her heart rendered her speechless. 

She couldn’t do this. Not to Bucky. Not to herself. And not to Wade. 

But she couldn’t stay silent. 

"I had a boyfriend.” She spoke, her voice shaky and fragile. Bucky froze, unable to lift his gaze to her. “His name was Wade. I was with him before I got cancer and he was there when I got diagnosed. He was there when I refused treatments and he was still there when I became this.” She gestured to herself, deciding to spare Bucky the story of her avoiding Wade for all that time because she feared how he’d react when he saw what she had become. 

Much like Bucky, Wade didn’t care and after she saved him from Francis, they somehow made a life together. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of him, his loving gaze and dirty mouth bringing a bittersweet smile to her face. 

“His crazy matched my crazy, big time. A real ride or die type. Oh, that man’s mouth could make me sound like a nun. And we were going to start a life together.” She hastily wiped the beginning of her tears as Bucky listened quietly beside her. “But I was reckless and arrogant and I got him killed before we could." 

The hurt Bucky felt from her rejection was slowly starting to fade as she explained, his intense emotions starting to morph into sympathy. 

"I loved him more than anything in this life and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get back to him. Immortality is a bitch like that but I thought, maybe just maybe if I somehow managed to destroy myself completely, I would be with him again. But nothing worked.” Her voice broke as her emotions overcame her. 

It took everything Bucky had to not pull her into his arms right there and hold her until she couldn’t stand it anymore. But he couldn’t. Her heart still belonged to the man who made her into who she was and he had to respect that, however painful it was. 

So needless to say. 

I'm odds and ends. 

But I'll be stumbling away. 

Slowly learning that life is okay.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky mumbled, unsure of what else to say. He’d experienced loss before but never something that made him want to end his life. For 70 years he lacked the freedom to do so and now that he did, he wanted to live for himself. Wanted to experience everything that had been taken from him. 

But now it was Y/n that lacked freedom. She was brave enough to venture into the unknown for Wade only to be dragged back by her immortality. The two were very different, as they always had been. And while Bucky thought it made them better together, Y/n could only see it as a reason to stay apart. 

Wade was her other half, her soulmate. Bucky could never replace him. And she could never ask him to. 

“It’s not your fault.” Her reply was sincere but dulled, as if the automatic response wasn’t what she wanted to say yet happened to be the only thing she could manage. She wanted to say so much more. She wanted to tell Bucky that while Wade was her first and most beloved partner, it didn’t mean he was her only. 

Ignoring the way Bucky made her feel was growing more difficult and try as she might she couldn’t deny it any longer. She loved Bucky. 

From the very beginning she had been hooked by the super soldier and every tragic thing that had happened to him. She loved his rare but breathtaking smile, the one that made her dizzy and weak at the knees. She loved the moments when he’d let his frustration out through hushed swears and absolutely adored the times he’d remind her that his vocab was that of an army man from the 1940s. He could spout off a string of profanities that would make a sailor cower and even though he always apologized after, the action only made her feel more at home among the team. 

She loved what a gentleman he was, even to her, who was as unladylike as they came. He’d never hesitate to go out of his way to do little chivalrous acts that made her heart race and it only made her crave the 40s man more and more. 

But what she loved most of all was how much he understood her. He knew what it was like to be forced to the breaking point until he became something he wasn’t. He knew what it was like to not trust your own mind and for that Y/n loved him. 

But she still loved Wade more. 

Say after me. 

It's no better to be safe than sorry

Take on me. Take me on. 

I'll be gone. In a day or two.

“Bucky, I-" 

A familiar feeling stopped Y/n dead in her tracks. A sense that told her something was wrong and one she had only felt the night she lost Wade. It was like the world around her slowed down and all she could hear was the frantic beating of her heart as she looked out into the open night air. 

A jet engine roared through the sky, coming faster than Bucky could react in his moment of weakness. Fortunately Y/n was much faster, grabbing hold of the super soldier and dragging him off the ledge. They ran across the rooftop, ducking back behind the small concrete entrance that housed the elevator back down to the building. 

A harsh explosion followed not too soon after they had seeked cover and Bucky moved forward, bracing her against the wall as he did his best to keep her steady as the building rattled on impact. Heat enveloped them and Y/n tried her best to ignore the heat rising to her own face, being pressed so close to Bucky’s chest. 

The jet flew past the building and into view, rounding back for another attack. Y/n watched it with wide eyes as it flew straight at them, readying another missile. 

"Look out!” She screamed, tugging furiously at Bucky’s t-shirt as she dragged them to the other side of the concrete housing. They moved fast, making sure to stay ducked down to avoid becoming more of a target than they already were. 

Thankfully for them, the jet didn’t strike the roof, allowing them to slip into the elevator and begin the descent to the rest of the compound. The aftermath of both explosions shook throughout the building and the lights inside the car had turned red, telling all those in the building that they were on high alert. 

“It is those HYDRA fucks? What do they want?” Y/n questioned. Bucky didn’t reply at first, silently calculating their next move. It was a cold reaction but something he couldn’t quite shake from his Winter Soldier days. 

“They’re here for the drive.” He answered finally as the doors opened up to reveal the lab floor. Sam ran to them frantically, leaving the two scientists to back up files and technology in case the attack went too far. 

“Good! You’re here. I’m going out to try and stall the jet, you guys get a quinjet and meet me outside.” Sam instructed, heading into the elevator only to have Bucky grab his arm. 

“Sam, they want the drive. They won’t stop until they have it.” Bucky explained carefully, his eyes returning to the seriousness they always had during missions. 

Sam shook his head, “What do you expect us to do? Hand it over?” He questioned. Bucky shook his head, all the plans he was able to put together ending in failure. There had to be something. 

“What if they think the drive is destroyed?" 

Bucky and Sam turned to Y/n, mutual looks of confusion taking hold of their features as she glanced back at the lab. The scientists had finished up and we’re now rushing past them to the elevator but Y/n’s eye caught something else. The drive was placed in a small container, Stark tech of some kind to make sure no external sources could get to it. 

"How would we do that? They’re not gonna take our word for it.” Sam protested. Y/n was already making her way to the drive, her own plan forming as she went. Bucky moved to follow her but she quickly turned around, as if sensing what he was doing. 

“Sam take Bucky with you. Distract the HYDRA assholes for as long as you can while I transfer the drive’s info to the safe house. Follow my lead.” Y/n demanded, rushing over to the desk which held the drive. 

“No way, I’m staying with-” Bucky was about to object but another explosion quaked the building, sending him back into the elevator. Sam grabbed hold of his arm before Bucky could react and the elevator closed, leaving Y/n alone. 

Bucky yelled out, forcing himself toward the buttons but Sam’s grip was tight and Bucky found he didn’t have the energy to fight him. Y/n’s plan would work, they always did. But he feared what she might do to herself in the process. 

“Why would you do that!?” Bucky shouted, trying to make up for his lack of fight through his words. Sam didn’t answer knowing Bucky was being irrational. Y/n insisted again and again she could do 'shit they’ve never seen’ as she fondly put it, but it hurt Bucky everytime he couldn’t save her. 

He’d watched her 'die’ countless times and each time he couldn’t do anything. It trudged up memories he’d rather forget. Memories of protecting Steve and still losing him to the one thing he couldn’t fight-…time. Memories of the helplessness he felt during his time at HYDRA. Memories of losing his old self, a part of him he’d never be able to save or recover. 

Bucky stormed through the hangar, heading toward the first quinjet he saw. It took every ounce of self control he could muster to not rip the door off the machinery but he managed to climb in, leaving the jet unscathed. 

Sam flew ahead with a couple of agents in their own quinjet while Bucky followed behind, ultimately taking his own route straight toward the attacking jet. He knew their technology well and knew the weakest points to hit but even if he took out this jet, another one would take its place eventually. There had to be a way to insure they wouldn’t come back. Maybe if he went back and took out the new boss? No, someone would rise up and take his place. 

His eyes narrowed as he began his attack on the jet, using the large guns installed within the aircraft. The HYDRA jet instantly maneuvered away from the shots but Bucky anticipated it and moved with them, raining as much fire as he could on them. 

But before he could advance on them any further, another quinjet launched out of the hangar, flying past at breakneck speeds. Bucky’s heart dropped when he heard Y/n over the radio. 

“Listen here you HYDRA nutsacks. If you want the drive, you’re gonna have to come get it. And I don’t play fair.” She taunted over the frequency, urging the enemy jet to follow her as she raced away from the building and Bucky. 

As she had expected the jet followed, sparing no expense as they hastily rushed through Bucky and Sam’s attacks. Nothing mattered but the drive and Bucky wished he had thought their mission through a bit more. He didn’t even know what was on the drive let alone how far HYDRA would go to get it back. 

But he soon found out how far they’d go to ensure their enemies didn’t have it. 

“Y/n, look out!” Bucky cried, unable to stop himself. He knew what Y/n was planning. She was meant to go down in the plane. But he wanted to stop it, hell at this point he would rather give the drive up. Y/n’s powers were amazing, yes but he couldn’t help but feel that one day her luck would run out, that one day she just wouldn’t come back the same. She’d be horribly changed like he had been. A monster. 

He couldn’t bare to see her become that. 

Y/n skillfully flipped the jet, steering a harsh right as the HYDRA jet stayed close on her tail. “Get the others out of here. I can handle this!” She called, keeping her words careful as to not alert the enemy of her plan. 

Sam listened, turning away to lead the other quinjet back to the headquarters but Bucky couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. He knew what it was like to die and come back and he couldn’t understand why Y/n was so willing. At first it was noble, giving her life for his but then she did it again and again. 

Bucky was terrified for her. Terrified she wouldn’t be Y/n anymore. And terrified of the reason she kept destroying herself. 

“Bucky go back! This isn’t your fight!” Y/n yelled at him, switching to a frequency only they could hear. 

“The hell it isn’t! The only reason you’ve been fighting HYDRA is because of me. I’m the fucking asshole that keeps leading you straight into harm’s way when I’m supposed to protect you!” He fought, following behind the chase.

Y/n groaned, frustrated by his insistence on keeping her safe. She didn’t need to be safe, if anything he should be protecting everyone else from her. “I never asked you to protect me! Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?!” Angry tears began to well in her eyes but she rapidly blinked them away, keeping her focus on the jet behind her as she began her trek up into the sky. 

Maybe if she flew high enough the HYDRA jet would stall long enough for her to get an advantage? 

“You know why!” Bucky spoke, his tone matching her own agitation. He really hoped he didn’t have to say it. Saying it at all was nerve-wracking but saying it in the middle of a fight? How could he spring that on her?

Y/n’s heart dropped as her grip tightened on the yoke. His words shot through her like a thousand bullets but she found herself unable to recover from it. It was all too familiar. Too depressing. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Y/n replied, praying to whoever had control of her miserable life that Bucky was mistaken. Maybe decades of being touch starved and deprived of love had made him think he cared about her. 

Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. 

“I love you, Y/n! Fuck you always make things so difficult and you never take anything seriously but I love you more than I’ve ever loved someone. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you but you keep dying before I can show you that." 

His confession was rough and forceful but still so heartfelt. Y/n wanted to cry at how much it reminded her of Wade’s but she didn’t allow her tears to consume her. Only pushed herself and the quinjet through the atmosphere, watching in the display as the HYDRA jet began to fall. 

"Please, say something.” Bucky pleaded, his voice fragile and broken. He knew rejection was imminent. Their talk on the roof told him that she wouldn’t accept his feelings. But he needed to get it out, needed to tell her before she died. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” She replied quietly before switching off her radio. Silence fell over the jet as she allowed the engine to shut off. Bucky flew past her, further into space, having not anticipated her sudden drop. 

She was alone again, free falling toward the earth once more like she had mere hours before. Although this fall would be much more fatal. More destructive. 

As she angled her jet straight toward the enemy jet, switching back on her engine and accelerating at deadly speeds, she found herself without a single comment. 

Not one word slipped past her lips as flames consumed her before she could even feel the impact. 

•••

The apartment was familiar. It was an apartment she had left to Weasel when she made a more permanent stay at the compound. She still visited from time to time but it didn’t look like this anymore. No, this place still had the messy bed with scribbled words on the chalkboard above it. It still had the colorful table and the warming sunlight shining through, a light Weasel usually blocked with curtains. Still had the memory wall full of pictures of her and Wade, a wall that was now bare. 

This was her and Wade’s home. 

“Red?” His voice rang out like heavenly bells and Y/n’s head whipped toward the sound. There he was, seated in the leather chair near the window. He looked just like he had the night she lost him. His hair was short and barely styled, having only grown a small amount in the time she had known him. There was a small amount of stubble along his lower face but his next words quickly dominated her observations. 

“What are you doing here?” She didn’t answer, wanting to study his face as long as she could. She wanted to refresh her mind with the image of his loving eyes and adorning smile. Wanted to forever remember the slit in his eyebrow from a long forgotten fight and the way his hands gripped the arms of the chair as he stood. 

“I died…again. I know you said it wasn’t my time but I just hoped, maybe this time it was?” Y/n spoke carefully, stepping forward, finding that the clothes she had worn seconds before had been replaced with one of Wade’s large t-shirts. 

Instead of moving to hold her and tell her she was right, that her time had finally come, he let his gaze fall. Her heart clenched in her chest and angry tears filled her eyes but she refused to allow them to fall, refused to let her chance at seeing Wade be cut short by her uncontrollable tears. 

“Who’s in charge of all this shit? Who fucked us over so bad that we can never be together?” Y/n snapped, turning her teary gaze toward the ground. She couldn’t bare to stare at the blurred wall separating her from Wade. Couldn’t stand to show up here time and time again only to be refused the one person she wanted most. 

“I don’t know, baby. Trust me if I did, you wouldn’t be there and I wouldn’t be here.” His voice was almost like a forgotten memory and Y/n hated her mind for allowing it to slip so far from her thoughts. He always spoke to her with such a tenderness, a tenderness he never used with anyone else. 

“I wanna stay with you.” Y/n pleaded, struggling to lift her eyes from the floor. Wade had begun to frown at her wish. She didn’t know why.

It was a sad frown like he wanted so desperately to agree but couldn’t. Wade knew his love still had a purpose in life and he couldn’t be selfish by asking her to stay. In the end nothing could make her stay, even if she begged for it on her knees. Because she still had a life waiting for her. A life without him. 

“Things are complicated now.” Wade tried to explain, moving closer to her. This wasn’t what Y/n wanted to hear and she stood in place, not moving an inch as hurt overcame her. 

“What do you mean?” Y/n questioned, trying not to sound as vulnerable as she knew she was. She wanted it to be over. To finally get the life with Wade she never had. But she could feel something tugging her back. It grew stronger with each passing second and she knew soon it’d reclaim her. But the feeling didn’t make her angry. She wasn’t upset. 

The feeling was overwhelming but in a good way. Like when someone says 'I love you’ for the first time. 

“Bucky.” Wade confessed suddenly, dragging Y/n’s attention away from the tug.  

“What-…?" 

"He loves you. You know that. Our times up baby.” His voice was miserable but stern. They never spoke so seriously before, even in the previous times she’d reached him in the afterlife. Every word was true even if it was his worst nightmare. And Y/n knew how much it pained him to say it. 

“No it can’t. I-” She tried to argue but found that there were no words to dismiss it. The tug was getting more powerful and familiarity washed over her. The tug was Bucky. He was her tether to the world and as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t let him go. 

But she couldn’t let Wade go either. 

“He loves you and as much as I want to do horrible, horrible things to him, I can’t. He can love you, hold you- fuck, he could give you a baby. All the things I can’t anymore.” Wade’s voice cracked and Y/n’s own tears began to fall, shaking her head at the mere thought of letting anyone other than him love her like that. 

“I need you to let me go before this gets too hard.” Wade begged. 

It broke Y/n to see him so lost, so shattered. This hurt him just as much as it hurt her but he was strong enough to push on. To tell her what she knew she needed to do, even if it was the last thing she wanted. 

He’d always been stronger than her. 

“Will we ever be together again?" 

In response, she received no words. Just a smile. A smile that told her everything would be okay. That no matter what happened it would be them against the world, even if she found love from another man. That smile told her more than any verbal answer could and put to rest the longing in her heart. 

"Kiss me like you miss me, Red." 

A bittersweet laughter echoed between them as she looked at him. All the love she’d felt for him was still lingering in her chest and she knew it’d never truly be gone. But another love was still there, one that was growing stronger like the tug she now felt.  

"Well, come here." 

Wade paced forward, moving through the barrier effortlessly and tugged her close to him like he had many times before. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he pulled her up by her thighs, planting his lips on hers without missing a beat. 

Kisses with Wade were always passionate and hot but this one was different. His hold on her was tight like he knew it would be the last and his lips lightly caressed hers, pouring every ounce of adoration he had for her into the kiss. Y/n clung to him like her life depended it, feeling the tug become so powerful she feared she’d be ripped from his arms. When they pulled away there were no words spoken, just a gaze. 

Then she was pulled back. 

•••

When she woke up, she couldn’t feel anything, not even the air that flushed into her exposed lungs. Her chest was slowly piecing itself together and judging by her pounding headache, she figured her skull was doing the same.  

She no longer felt pain the same way others did and while she knew the process of her body morphing back to normal would be excruciating, that pain was dulled to her. All she could focus on was the voice calling out to her. 

It was only then that she looked around at where she was. The ground was cold under her skin, or at least what skin she had feeling in so far. The smoke from the crash was bellowing into the night sky above her but she couldn’t smell it. She was only just beginning to feel the nips of heat from the fire biting at her arms and legs, though she wasn’t sure if they were even attached to her anymore. 

The voice cut through the chaos like a beacon and Y/n couldn’t help but feel relaxed by it. It was soothing and a reassurance of safety came with it. 

Soon the owner of the voice forced his way through the debris, finding her battered body torn apart among the aftermath of the destruction. His eyes flashed with horror but he wasted no time in moving forward, yanking a heavy piece of metal out of her chest to free her. Y/n watched, not even knowing she had been impaled. 

Bucky had seen many horrible scenes before, most of them having been by his own hand but this was terrible. He was unsure if it was the fact that she’d done this to herself or if it was that she was forced to stay alive throughout the entire thing, but either way it unnerved him and he felt the need to get her out of there immediately. 

He grabbed hold of her torso, pulling her up into his arms and taking notice of the fact that one of her legs and ¾ of her left arm was missing along with most of her chest. But despite this she just smiled at him, leaning further into him. 

"Hey, Seb. Oh, wait, fourth wall! Fuck me!” A delusional giggle escaped her and Bucky brushed off her comment, trying to focus on getting her out. He wasn’t sure where her limbs had gone or if he should try to retrieve them but Y/n slowly losing consciousness in his arms urged him to get out of there and he did just that. 

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. We’ll get you back to the med bay and you’ll be good as new.” He smiled at her and she nodded, knowing he was right. Didn’t make the process of self healing any less uncomfortable. 

But she couldn’t think of that right now. Wade’s words were still fresh in her mind. 

'He loves you. You know that.’

“Bucky.” She croaked, her own anxiety for what she was about to say overpowering everything else. The disaster around her didn’t matter and neither did the cracks in her chest as her ribs reformed. All that mattered was getting her words out before she lost consciousness. Before she lost her nerve. 

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’ll get you out of here.” Bucky assured, dismissing her call. Y/n frowned, reaching to grab hold of his face only to realize her arm had not yet grown back. She cursed silently, looking up at him. That crash was really a bitch. 

“Would you get your head out of your ass and listen to me?” She insisted, hating how vulnerable she was making herself. She hated being so emotionally weak in front of anyone other than Wade but she tried to listen to his wish. Tried to let him go. 

“Look, I care about you, alright?” She confessed, noting the way Bucky’s arms tightened on her and how he stilled instantly. “Ever since they fridged Wade, I never thought I’d care about anyone like I did him. But then you came along with your perfect smile and perfect eyes and ugh-God, why is this so hard?!” A groan escaped her as she let her gaze fall from him. It had always been easy with Wade, they fell into place like puzzle pieces but with Bucky it was harder. More real. 

His fingers curled around her waist, feeling the skin reshaping under his metal fingertips. Y/n was just loopy from the crash, he couldn’t take her confession seriously right? 

“Y/n, I-" 

"I know, I’m sorry. What I did on the roof was wrong, I was just scared-I’m-I’m still scared.” She admitted, her hold on him tightening desperately. Bucky frowned, guilt flooding him for putting her in such a conflicting and uncomfortable situation. 

He should’ve never said anything, should’ve never put her in the position where she had to force herself to move on from a lost love. It was wrong and terribly unfair. 

“Forget it, let’s get you somewhere safe, okay?” He replied, watching as her eyes grew heavy, losing her fight to stay awake. The looked like she wanted to argue but before she could she fell unconscious, allowing him to finally focus on escaping the wreck though his mind was cluttered with guilt and self hatred. 

It wasn’t fair. But then again life never was. 

•••

When Y/n woke up again her body was almost completely healed. Other agents were cautiously refilling the building after ensuring that no other HYDRA attacks were imminent. They had no reason to return after all, the drive was destroyed and as far as they knew, the information had gone down with Y/n. 

Bucky told himself he’d finally look at what the drive held since HYDRA had put up such a fight for it but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Y/n’s bedside. 

She’d been hooked up to several machines that would help her heal, something she’d surely throw a fit about when she awoke. She’d told them plenty of times that she didn’t need the whole 'hospital bullshit’ but it was just procedure. Plus Bucky suspected the medical personnel liked to piss her off as much as she did them. 

He would’ve found her curses amusing when she finally did regain consciousness but his nerves were too great. They’d left off in a serious and rather suspenseful moment and he almost wanted to disappear all together. 

Talking with Y/n was what he’d wanted to do all this time and best case scenario, he’d finally win her over. But he knew the worst case was more likely. He’d always managed to fuck things up and this was no different. 

He was wrong to force his feelings upon her and while he felt guilt and knew he’d be rejected, he wouldn’t have taken it back. It felt freeing to tell her. He was actually relieved she knew how much he cared for her. 

“What in the fuck nuggets is this bullshit?” Y/n snapped suddenly, yanking the IV from her arm and tossing it away from her with an annoyed glare. “I already told you guys-.” She stopped mid sentence, upon seeing Bucky sitting there. 

He looked tired and she wanted to make a joke to ease the nervous stare he directed at her but she couldn’t bring herself too. In the last 24 hours she’d been an emotional train wreck and while her heart screamed to tell Bucky whatever he wanted to hear, she knew things were more complicated than that. 

And deep down he knew that too. 

“Look, about what I said after the crash.” She began, running a hand through her hair. Bucky watched as she did so, hanging onto her every word. He’d remembered what she said or at least what it sounded like she was going to say. But had she meant it or was it out of pity? 

“I want you, okay?” She confessed, expelling all doubt from his mind. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush and quite frankly she was tired of struggling for words. So she spoke from the heart, even if it wasn’t very romantic. “I’ve liked you for a while but-…Wade’s death still hurts.” She continued. 

Bucky sat on the edge of his seat, his heart pounding in his chest as she spoke. It’d been so long since he’d had a chance at love and he already felt as though he’d messed it up. But then again they’d always been a little messy. 

“But I wanna try this. I know I said I wasn’t ready for anything serious but I wanna try us no matter how fucked up we are together.” Y/n told him, reaching for his metal hand and clasping it in both of hers. “I wanna fuck the world with you. I wanna fuck it so hard.” She smiled, earning a laugh from him.  

Her confession was overwhelming and clumsy but he took it like it was. Y/n was an overwhelming person and he was ready for that. He was so ready for whatever mayhem she had to offer. 

“Fuck the world, huh?” He questioned, amused as her eyes lit up with joy. 

“Yeah. You and me, Buck.” She promised, holding his hand tightly. His heart swelled at her words, shifting to sit on the bed with her as she leaned closer to him. 

“Deadpool and Winter Soldier. I kinda like it.” He said, smiling at her as she smirked. Dirty words began to develop on her tongue and before Bucky could even realize what he’d walked himself into, she was leaning toward his ear, her breath brushing his skin and leaving chills in its wake. 

“I bet you’ll like it even more when I say it in bed won’t you, Winter Soldier.” She spoke in his ear, her voice smooth and sultry. His face had flooded red but he refused to let himself get all flustered and speechless. 

There was once a time where he was a lady’s man and while he knew he was probably a little out of date, he was a fast study. And having known Y/n all this time had taught him a few things. 

“Only if you scream it." 

Y/n paused, looking back at him with a mix of shock and pride. She was at a loss for words and Bucky quickly accepted his victory, launching forward and putting his lips on hers. 

Despite her lustful comments her kiss was tender and passionate, a kind of kiss he’d longed from her for some time. A kiss that although hesitant was strong and heartfelt. 

They had some work to do and while their relationship would be chaotic, it was their chaos and he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

"I gotta know something.” Y/n admitted suddenly, pulling away from the kiss. Bucky was a little confused but nodded anyway, wondering what on Earth would be so important. 

“Who taught the Russo brothers about time travel, Endgame was so fucked."   

You’ve got some nerve.

Warnings: strong language, violence, slight sexual themes (its nothing graphic dont worry, just like,, one reference to sex)

Characters : Johnny Vincent and Gord Vendome (mentioning of other clique members)

Johnny Vincent was exhausted, the day had been extremely draining with the run-ins he had with the preps thanks to Lola, only for her to break yo with him- great... all the man wanted to do now is relax and smoke, he didn’t care about what was going on around him for he didn’t think he had the energy in the first place. For the most part it was quiet, getting darker and darker out by every minute that passed him by even getting colder as it did, it was winter after all. As the man inhaled and exhaled the cigarettes light brightened and dimmed down, smoke rose to the sky fading the higher it got-

‘Finally, peace and quiet’

He thought to himself tilting his head left, right, back then forward stretching his muscles taking a glance at the cigarette between his fingers, remaining silent for what felt like a just seconds before huffing out air at the thought of Her. “Why you gotta be this way Lola?” He quietly, softly spoke out lowering his head in shame at his own stupidity. As the cars passed, the tunnel he was in echoed back the sounds with both the engine and the sound of the tires against the street. Johnny listened in to the environment sounds hearing footsteps coming up beside him but didn’t bother looking at who the hell it was, he just wanted to be left alone so he hoped it was just some adult. Until the footsteps stopped, just a few feet away—

He looked at their shoes frowning his brow just before looking at the person who stood there. “The hell you want runt?” Vincent’s tone grew aggressive as he threw down his almost finished cigarette and stepped on it shifting his body to face them. “Now now Vincent, let’s not get too excited-“ the boy said holding his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat “tell me what the hell you want before I break your face in gord.” Johnny stepped closer causing the prep to step back “I’ve come to- talk.” Gord announced keeping his distanced from the greaser. “Talk eh? The fuck you wanna talk about with me, huh? I’m not your little friend to be chit chatting up storm with.” Johnny kept walking towards the prep cracking his knuckles which were muffled by the leather gloves he had on to keep warm “it’s about Lola.” Gord told him which caused Vincent to stop walking and to stand there, mixed emotions ran through his head but anger slowly began to take over everything. Gord shivered a bit from the cold air just gettingnside tracked for a bit thinking how Johnny could just stand out In the cold before being cut from that thought when Johnny grabbed him and slammed him against the tunnels wall “What About her!?” Johnnys voice grew louder with clear signs of nothing but anger and aggression towards the small prep.

Gords back was being pressed against the wall by Johnnys weight as he was just held there with a strong grip breathing in the cigarette scent the greaser leader gave off “I swear if you just came here to rub it in that we broke up you’ve got another thing comin’. She’ll never be yours, Never!” Johnny nearly yelled causing gord to flinch from the fear of getting hit shaking his head quickly “If you would just listen to me-“ gord tried to speak but Johnny has pulled him forward only to slam him back against the wall but had him lifted off the ground by an inch. Gord slightly hung his head having hit it against the wall with the quick motion but he kept himself composed and spoke again “listen to me- I’m through with that whore of a girl.” Gord looked Johnny dead in the eye which caught Johnny off guard a bit. Hearing that made Johnny’s grip weakened causing gord to slightly lower from where he was just until he was able to stand on the ground again “w- what are you saying..?” Vincent questioned slightly narrowing his eyes at the prep still not fully trusting him and not breaking eye contact with him. “I don’t want her anymore Vincent, I came to tell you my days of going after her are over. She’s a more waste of time than you’d think-“

Johnny quickly slammed his fist across gords face upon hearing him say that causing gord to fall out of his grip nearly knocking him to the floor. Gord managed to keep himself up from the painful swing that was brought to his face but continued what he was saying rubbing his cheek “ you’re getting..worked up on someone.. who problably only uses you ..for the sex.” Gord looked at Johnny lowering his hand from his cheek to his nose wiping off the blood that has just began to run down “it’s very pathetic. Not that I expected more from you.” He continued letting the blood run down his face and into his expensive scarf and sweater. Johnny kept his eyes on gord with his fist clenched and his breathing getting heavier and heavier as could be seen from the cold air the more his mind ran with thoughts “and what the hell would you know?” Vincent snapped back gritting his teeth. Gord just stayed there stretching his arms a bit telling him keeping it casual “look at it this way, you’ve been fighting for her for how long? Haven’t you questioned what you’re even fighting for anymore? Clearly the more things happen the more she just gets worse for you.”. Johnny felt something tug at his chest when he heard the prep speak in such a way- was it because he right..? Johnnys fist slightly released from how he had them before and continued to listen “ Lola is old news honesty. Your friends even say how much you don’t deserve the treatment. They’ve seen you chase your own tail for this girl, but do you even know for what?” Gord questioned. Johnny thought long about it, he thought he knew the answer but only managed to come out with “because I-“

“You don’t love her. Don’t give me that crap. You know this isn’t love.” Gord stopped Johnny from finishing that thought glancing down at Johnnys hands watching his fingers twitch slightly just before looking back up at him “you know she doesn’t truly love you, and if she says so it’s not you. It’s the idea of you.” Johnny got closer clenching his fists again getting in gords face “You Know Nothing!!” Johnnys voice was loud, very loud— gord just watched him gritting his teeth snapping back at him "I'm not making this up! I’m not just some Dumb Rich Prep you all see me as!” Gord spoke louder but kept himself as professional as he could only giving a bit of attitude back. “And what would you even know?!” Johnny just towered Over gord at that point making gord slightly stumble back but kept himself up “Because Vincent, unlike you I’ve been studying psychology and I see the patterns. How dedicated you are to her, and how much she never truly liked you, how you dont truly love her back-” Johnny shoved gord back and kept doing so multiple times with each getting harsher and harsher having gord almost reach the other end of the tunnel which was the new Coventry territory and repeatedly told gord to ‘shut up’ getting louder and louder. Gord continued “I’m telling you the truth. I know me and you aren’t on good terms as of lately and that I'm suppose to hate you but do you really thing I’d be telling you this if I really hated you? Sure you’re a pain in the ass and you along with your clique are low-class but c’mon, I know you’re not that thick minded of a man to be This blinded.” Johnny eventually stopped shoving gord back and just stood there watching as gord almost fell back but kept himself balanced but never stopped listening “and why are you telling me this?” Johnny asked huffing

“Because I feel bad, okay?” Gord snapped at Johnny which created silence between the both of them for a minute or so. Johnnys hands twitched , as his whole body shivered with rage because deep down he knew gord was right, he didn’t wanna admit it, he didn’t wanna admit that it hurts but it deeply did and hes tired of it all. Johnnys breathing was heavy, extremely, his chest rising and falling as his expression of anger began to break slowly into more saddened ones from the realization. He got close to gord, qiickly grabbed the preps collar pulling him close with his eyes tearing up, his teeth clenched together “You don’t know us, you don’t know me..” he said quietly between them “you can keep telling yourself that but, I can see differently, I could've kept this to myself but I thought this would bring more good and have these childish games come to an end.“ gord softly said keeping his eyes locked with Johnny's, right before Johnny finally broke down. Vincent lowered his head keeping his grip on gords sweater, gord watched feeling Johnnys body shaking as he slowly touched Johnnys arms. Johnny couldn’t restrain himself from letting the tears fall so they did, his breath hitching as he tried his hardest to keep himself together not wanting a prep from all people see him this way but the emotions were too much and he ended up crying.

Gord has just stood there holding Johnny feeling bad for him once more knowing how much he’s held back and is just letting it out. They stayed that way for a good 5 minute, maybe more before Johnny eventually calmed down and lifted his head letting gord go, stepping away from him which made gord let go of him, and allowing his hands to drop to his sides. His breath went from being heavy to light for the time being which was good, but gord didn't know how long it would last giving Johnny's high temper.

“You may see me as some stupid rich asshole but I’m not as stupid as you think I am. And I know the only real history we have is me messing with lola, but—“ he cut himself off holding his arms still shivering from the cold weather. He was sure of himself and felt like it wasn’t right to just tell the man his reasons for doing what he did.

“But what..?”

Vincent’s tone was normal at first but the longer gord just stood there the more he began to grow impatient, gord knew this and grew slightly paranoid at the man that could knock him out right then and there, maybe even kill him- but gord exhaled deeply, he breathed in the iron scent the blood dripping down brought him and stared directly at Johnny “but..because i enjoyed messing with you.” Gord spoke out after what seemed like forever. Johnnys hands slowly twitched once more he walked to gord close to hitting him again and gord backed up quickly putting one hand out out of fear “Wait! That’s not all.” Gord spoke louder but covered his mouth soon after “what more can there possibly fucking be..?”

“I’ve actually been watching the way you are Vincent, and I gotta say you’re more than just a handsome face.” Gord chuckled softly swaying his body side to side. Johnny stood there in silence for a good minute, stunned at the response he was given not knowing how to take it “what are you getting at-?“ gords eyes looked tired as he glanced at the ground keeping his gaze there “I’m just saying Johnny boy, you’re big tough outside is very attractive to watch from a distance but I’ve also notice how easy it is to bend and break your mind.” Gord spoke as he normally does, with a posh tone that irked Johnny but kept him listened to the prep, then gord continue “trust me I’ve thought about ditching Lola long before and focusing my attention to a Real man but the way you drooled over her just brought me more enjoyment. More excitement. You can really put on a show for that girl and I really, really, Really enjoyed seeing you get that way. It gave everything a more of a thrill knowing you were so focused on me, even if it was hostile.” Gord walked up to Johnny and looked up at him with his head slightly tilting to his right.

Johnny just watched gord get close but didn’t bother moving, he didn’t feel like he needed to. His hands were in a fist by than point but he wasn’t as angry as he was in the beginning of the conversation, he was honestly relieved— surprisingly

“Long story short Vincent. I like you. A little more than I anticipated.” Gord smirked, feeling accomplished as if he won some game. Johnny remained silent, for a while now processing what he was hearing, he knew gord was bisexual because hopkins showed the other side of that prep but the idea that gord actually liked him and not Lola is what throws him off a lot. Johnny didn’t know how to feel at that moment staring in gords brown eyes as if he was shearching for an answer there, somewhere. Gord wiped his face from the blood that had stopped ripping down now it being dry on his face before just getting closer to Johnny and asking “have you ever wondered what it’s like to kiss a rich boy?”

Johnnys expression went from serious to surprised, his brows rose and his eyes slightly widened but he didn’t breaks eye contact “I- I’ve- I-“ he was trying to find the words but nothing much came out but a stuttering mess. Gord just said fuck it, placing his hands on Johnnys arms slightly leaning up to him closing his eyes easing into it. Johnny watched, but didn’t pull away- instead he thought he’d just try it out, to see what can happen and hie far it can go. So Johnny placed his hands on gords waist when he came close, closed his eyes and leaned down slightly until his lips met with gords.

This was new to Vincent, hes never kissed a boy and he never saw himself doing it before but there he was, a prep in his arms pressed up against his chest just, making out with him for what seemed like forever. But forever only really lasts for so long.

Gord pulled away opening his eyes and looked into Johnny's eyes when he opened them as well. They were quiet, things between them seemed to lift away, and this was more like a dream to him, a dream he sure as hell has had before in the passed, a couple of times. Johnny slowly looked away and let gord go awkwardly saying that he should go, just leaving the prep alone in the cold dark winter night.

As johnny walked into his apartment he closed the door and held his chest leaning against it feeling his breathing quicken thinking to himself if that actually happened. He battled in his mind if he enjoyed it or not being so confused with himself and these new found feelings that he might be gaining. He slid his back on the door and sat on the floor staring into the dark corners of the apartment, eventually he closed his eyes and grinned to himself, taking off his gloves and pulling his hair back running his fingers through his hair-

'You've got some nerve'

((I'm not an expert at writing so here is something I had a dream about and I hope you enjoyed-?))

Laying Hands: Chapter 8

Read on AO3

A Complete Party

Before long, the two of them had returned to their separate reading. Althea marveled at the speed with which Loki was devouring the tome in his hands, emphasized by the crisp sound of the ancient pages turning every few seconds.

Stealing a move from his playbook, she addressed him without looking up from her text. “Either you’re reading a picture book or you’re the fastest reader I’ve ever seen,” she said light-heartedly.

“The latter,” he replied simply. “Though I admit I’m rather familiar with this volume. I’ve read it many times.”

“What’s it about?” Althea set her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo aside, enticed by the opportunity to learn more about the enigmatic god.

“Candlemaking.”

Althea looked at him blankly, taken by surprise. “…really? And that’s… that’s something you’re into, then?”

Loki lowered the book, his expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Do I look like someone who makes candles in their spare time?”

Althea answered with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “How would I know? Why would you keep rereading a book about making candles if you’re not interested?”

Loki tensed, the amusement falling from his face. “I… wasn’t able to bring many Asgardian texts with me. My selection is a little limited as a result.”

Althea peered past Loki to the wall of stuffed bookshelves behind him. “There are plenty of books here. I’m sure you could find something a little more entertaining than a book about wax.”

“Midgardian books,” he scoffed. “I’m not interested in what passes for literature on this backward planet.” He had, in actuality, dipped into Stark’s impressive library many times, even finding a few pieces that he quite enjoyed, but he refused to admit that to her. Better to keep her, like everyone else, at arm's length, he reasoned. And since she neither feared nor hated him like the rest of her race, he would just have to rely on his signature air of superiority.

“You are so…. pompous,” she said, shaking her head.

Loki expected her expression to match her harsh words but found she was smiling, shaking her head.

“Here.” She stuck her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo out for him. She still had a few chapters left in the novel, but she figured she’d get it back soon enough - it wouldn’t take Loki long to get through the French work. “You’ll like this,” she insisted, extending it out a little further.

Loki hesitantly reached out to take the book from her hand. He held it gingerly, sneering as though it were made from refuse. “And what is this about?”

“Oh the usual,” she feigned, “adventure, love…”

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically.

“…betrayal, prison breaks, deceit, vengeance, some murder,” she continued, awaiting his reaction.

Loki’s eyebrows raised. Althea figured the darker themes would appeal to him.

Loki studied the cover with an appraising look. “I suppose I could give it a try.” He sounded reluctant, but quickly cracked the cover and began reading.

Her reading material now firmly occupying Loki’s attention, Althea decided to fix herself a snack. The perpetually stocked fridge made the task equal parts easy and challenging and she found herself trying to choose amongst the ample selection for a few minutes. When she finally emerged, the ingredients for a simple salad in hand, she caught Loki making his exit.

“Still wordlessly fleeing rooms, then?”, Althea called out after him.

“It’s about to become a little crowded for my taste,” he replied, neither turning around nor pausing his stride.

Althea watched him go, realizing that the two of them had, essentially, just spent the day together. She’d even go so far as to call it a nice day together. Sure, Loki had been snarky and more than a little haughty, but she was proud of her ability to keep up with him. She’d even caught him off-guard a few times, though he’d be loath to admit it. As she assembled her salad she pondered what book she would recommend to the other-worldly prince next.

From a young age, her parents had encouraged her penchant for reading, often pushing her towards more and more difficult works. She had been steadily making her way through ‘the classics’ with their guidance. “You have to start with the classics,” her mother had told her. “You can learn just about anything about the world through them.”

“Plus, you’ll have a leg up in school. Easier to write a book report on something you’ve already read,” her father had added, always the more practical of the two.

It was one of the few concrete memories she had left of her parents. Althea tried to push the nostalgic recollection aside. If she didn’t think about them, then she didn’t have to think about their demise. She focused instead on adding just the right number of croutons to the bed of greens in front of her.

She’d only taken a few bites when she heard the Quinjet landing behind her, signaling the return of Steve Rogers and the rest. She turned to greet them as they made their way back inside.

“You do realize there are other rooms in this place,” quipped Tony immediately heading to the bar to fix himself a drink. “This building’s got 93 floors and you’ve got clearance for oh, 20 of them? You don’t have to spend all your time here, you know.”

“I like the view,” she mumbled through a mouthful of spinach, shrugging. She swallowed before continuing. I like reading in the window seats. Not much else for me to do.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to do something about that,” Tony said, throwing a meaningful look towards Steve and Natasha in turn.

“You and my brother have that in common,” Thor said, smiling. Althea wondered if he was referring to reading by the window or having nothing else to do.

“I know,” she told him, stabbing another forkful of greens and chasing a rather evasive crouton around the bowl. “I actually got him to read a book from Earth: The Count of Monte Cristo,” she boasted.

“Huh. Good choice. That’ll appeal to the whole ‘victim complex’ deal he’s got going on,” Tony commended.

“Stark…” Thor warned. It was endearing, the way he stood up for his brother, even against Stark’s throwaway jokes.

“Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten to that one yet,” Tony continued, unperturbed.

“…what?” Althea looked at him, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“That guy’s a voracious reader. Goes through about three books a day sometimes,” Nat chimed in as she passed Althea to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

“Loki said he only read books from Asgard,” Althea persisted. “He said our literature was below him.”

“That arrogant little shit,” Tony cursed, rolling his eyes. “He’s read just about every book in the place.”

“One time I watched him read all of Lord of the Rings in one sitting. He even read The Silmarillion,” Bruce interjected, his expression one of exaggerated disbelief. “Who does that?”

“That arrogant little shit,” Althea echoed. Still, she smiled to herself. Loki could pretend he held nothing but disdain for humans, but now she knew better. She looked forward to calling him out on his lie.

“We’ve got more important things to discuss than Loki’s reading habits,” Steve reminded them dutifully.

“Right, yeah.” Tony looked at Althea, his playful demeanor gone. “So kid, you’ve been staying with us for a while now. We finally know why Hydra was interested in you and you’re not a secret from SHIELD anymore. Really, there’s no longer a reason for us to keep you here.”

Althea felt the blood drain from her face. Before accidentally healing Loki and revealing her ability to the rest of the Avengers, she had been afraid they would continue Hydra’s experimentations. When the team had left this morning, she’d been worried that they’d hand her over to yet another shadowy organization. She’d never considered that they’d simply turn her out, leave her to her own devices in the world, abandon her. It was suddenly harder to breathe. She didn’t know anyone outside this tower. She was otherwise entirely alone. How would she get by? What would she do?

“Jesus, Tony, you couldn’t think of a better way to phrase that?”, scolded Natasha.

“What Tony means to say,” Steve shot the billionaire an exasperated look, “is that you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. No one’s kicking you out, but you’re free to go if you want.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Althea said defeatedly. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I could, of course, help you out there,” Tony told her flippantly. “Set you up with a place, some scratch, even a job. You could live the rest of your life in comfortable obscurity, free from the troubles of the world.” He paused then, letting the idea sink in. “Or, and here’s an interesting idea, you could join us. This party could use a cleric.”

“A what?” Thor and Steve posed the question in unison. Off to the side, Bruce snorted. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“A cleric… you know, a healer? We’ve got just about every other class spoken for. Cap’s our fighter. Nat’s a monk and Clint’s a ranger. Banner is clearly the barbarian, that one’s so obvious it’s not even funny. We even have a paladin with Thor bringing his god power into the mix, and I’m clearly a rogue. A cleric would really round out the gang.”“Eh, you’re more of an artificer, Tony,” Bruce cut in, now openly chuckling.

“Fair enough. I’m an artificer with roguish good looks.”

“Will someone tell me what in the world he’s going on about?”, Steve asked, exhausted by the conversation’s left turn.

“Dungeons and Dragons, old-timer,” a nonplussed Tony answered.

“I have fought many dragons and even I am confused,” said Thor.

“It’s a kind of roleplaying game. Every player has a different class and skills to… wait, you’ve fought dragons? Like, actual, fire-breathing dragons?” Bruce stared at Thor in amazement.

Before Thor could launch into another boastful tale, Tony cut him off. “My point is, we could use someone like you on the team, Thea. So what do you say? Want to be an Avenger?”

All eyes turned to Althea. She stood frozen on the spot, eyes wide and jaw slack. For a moment it looked like she wouldn’t respond. Finally, she spoke. “You want me to join you? To… to fight crime and save the world and stuff?” Her voice was breathy in her disbelief.

“Only if you want to,” assured Steve, stepping forward. “It’s entirely up to you. I won't lie to you, it's a dangerous job. No one would blame you for saying no, but we think you’d be a good addition to the team.”

Althea focused on him, finding his warmth and confidence comforting. “I don’t know the first thing about fighting.”

“You don’t have to do any fighting,” Steve answered, “but it sure would be nice to have someone like you around in case someone gets hurt.”

“You’re like the Swiss Army medic, kid,” Tony added.

Natasha moved to stand beside Steve. Her expression was softer than any Althea had ever seen her wear. “I know healing others causes you pain, and I know you’ve had enough pain for a lifetime. But I also know you want to help people. This could be your opportunity; your chance to use that power for good.” The two women looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Althea knew very little about Natasha or her past, but she was starting to realize the two might have more in common than she’d guessed.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Steve began. “You can-“

“I’ll do it,” Althea cut him off. “I want to help, anyway I can.”

September’s Featured Game: Turovero: The Celestial Tower

DEVELOPER(S): Queenie ENGINE: RPG Maker VX Ace GENRE: RPG, Adventure, Psychological, Dark Fantasy WARNINGS: Violence, Light Horror Elements, Sensitive Themes SUMMARY: Turovero: The Celestial Tower is a freeware, dark fantasy role-playing game created with RPG Maker VX Ace. Players take on the role of four young adventurers - Sigurd, a brave and kind-hearted knight, Leilia, a gentle and motherly cleric, Edric, a gifted yet sharp-tongued mage, and Ruby, a cheeky, fun-loving thief - who have no recollection of their lives prior to meeting one another. Determined to free their world from the influence of an ancient evil, the Dark One, the group sets forth on their most perilous journey yet as they climb the mysterious divine tower, Turovero. However, as the heroes ascend the Celestial Tower, they begin to realize that not everything is as it seems. Just what is the Dark One that plagues their world so, and what truly happened to the Four Gods of legend? The answers to these questions lie in wait for them at the top of the tower… but do they truly want to discover them?

Play the game here! Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! I'm Queenie and this is my second game that I've developed, written, and composed for (my first game was Prom Dreams: A High School Love Story, a horror / dating sim game available whever you can download Turovero from). I've been making games in earnest for about 4 years now, but I did use to muck around in the old bootleg version of RPG Maker 2000 when I was a kid I guess. Because one of the main complaints about my first game was the artwork, and because I, er, can't draw very well, I also enlisted the help of @genkaiko, @caffeineandcarpaltunnel, @pleasedrawmore, and @meakersneakers to draw the character artwork, title and ending artwork, enemy artwork, and cutscene artwork respectively. Check them out too if you've got the chance!

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *Queenie: I've always enjoyed horror games and games that started out normal / cute / cliched but slowly turned into something darker as they went on. I also really love RPGs and adventure games. So, naturally, I figured I'd combine the two at some point, and thus the initial concept for Turovero was born!

How long have you been working on your project? *Queenie: Total development time was around 2.5 years.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Queenie: Considering every games I've made so far is essentially cobbling together various ideas from games and anime I love, you bet your ass it did LOL. Gameplay involves a mix of classic Final Fantasy-esque battles and Zelda-style field puzzles, whereas the story and atmosphere takes inspiration from other RPG Horror games and anime such as Madoka Magica and Higurashi. Essentially, dark psychological drama wrapped up in a nice little JRPG shell. Or something like that.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Queenie: Besides my complete and utter lack of art skills (which I thankfully had my team to help me with!), I also really struggled with the field skills due to RPG Maker's admittedly shoddy collision detection. I was eventually able to make the mechanic work around 90% of the time (and if it doesn't, protip: push up against the object before activating the field skill), so it's thankfully playable, but it sure was a pain to work with :T

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Queenie: I actually try to fully create a solid outline of my games and then stick to it, for the most part, so that I don't lose track during development. So, to be honest, not a whole lot changed besides some minor details, such as names, battle skills, and combat balance adjustments. Although, I did originally envision the theme and look of the final "dungeon" a bit differently (which I obviously won't go into details about), and only went with the current design because I couldn't get the sprites to cooperate with me and I was like "well, eh, this is the next best thing I guess". :P

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Queenie: I did about 80% of the game myself, but I did have an interview/portfolio submission process for artists. I knew many of them previously, and the title artist I'd already had a working relationship and internet friendship with, so that made things easier as well. It also helped that I could share my ideas (and memes. lots of memes.) during the development process so I didn't have to keep the game 100% secret, haha.

What is the best part of developing a game? *Queenie: The music!! I freakin' love composing okay. I also love writing emotional or comedic scenes, then see other people's reactions to them as they play. Speaking of which, my jar of Player Tears seems to be running a little empty lately... :3c

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Queenie: I usually just go with the kind of gameplay my story needs and that my developer's skills will allow; sometimes I see another game and go "oh, that's possible?", and might keep that knowledge in handy, but I don't actively seek out gameplay inspiration or anything.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Queenie: My boy Edric and his grumpy yet adorable tsundere ways LOL. I have a thing for characters with love problems okay ;;

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Queenie: I do kind of wish the game had a way to do something like unison attacks from the Tales series, since it'd be thematically consistent with the game's ideas of friendship and unity, but at the time I wasn't willing to fudge around with the battle engine too much, so I shelved the idea.

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Queenie: I have ideas for some prequel stories (in an e-book or even a visual novel format) that expand upon the characters and world a bit, but I'm waiting to gauge interest in them.

What do you most look forward to upon/after the release of a project? *Queenie: Player reactions and Let's Plays, definitely. I feed off of player reactions. I crave them like a zombie craves brains. If you play my games please tell me how much you suffered - er, enjoyed it, it really makes my day!

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Queenie: Honestly, only that it'd attract the wrong kind of fan - you know, the ones who harass people over fictional characters and over a work not being 100% to their particular standards. Thankfully that hasn't seemed to happen yet, and most people who've played my games are super chill and awesome.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Queenie: Use outlines and try not to shovel features into your game just because you can! Figure out what kind of game you want and then focus your energy on making it the best version of that image that you can. Sure, my games may not take advantage of everything RPG Maker can do, but I don't think they need to - I only needs the elements that will help me tell my story the way I want to.

Question from last month's featured dev @Teal Crown: If you're working on a team, how do you manage to keep organized? (Otherwise: If you could meet your favourite dev, the one that inspires you the most, what would you ask them?) *Queenie: My artists and I kept up via Tumblr messenger and Discord mostly. I also made a beta testing server when the game reached the testing phase, which was very helpful and also loads of fun. :)

We mods would like to thank Queenie for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Turovero: The Celestial Tower if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum

The Serpent, Lazarius Kash’ebahl LFC

–––– 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝓈𝒾𝒸𝓈 ––––

NAME: Lazarius Kash’ebahl (pronounced Laz-air-ee-us   Cash-eh-ball)

AGE: Approx. 288 years but much much older ask why.

RACE: Quel’dorei

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral.

MARITAL STATUS: Single.

SERVER: Wyrmrest Accord.

–––– 𝒫𝒽𝓎𝓈𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝒜𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 ––––

HAIR:  Dark Chestnut Brown.

EYES: Pure Black Pools

HEIGHT: 72″

BUILD: Slender, Gaunt, Lithe, Lean Muscle.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: His flesh is extremely pale, and thin.  Beneath the surface are black spidered veins around his eye sockets, nostrils, forehead and lips.  A snake scale hexagonal pattern is tattooed across his entire upper body and neck.  Scars across most of his body from whip marks, lashings and mutilation.  Rune markings in Shathyar from his training.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: A sterling index finger sheath ring with a long blade attached to the end on his right hand.  Three silver earrings in each ear, a pair of Shaldorei ear cuffs on both ears.

AESTHETIC: Deep Purples, Artisan Tailored Clothing, Alluring Scents

–––– 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 ––––

PROFESSION: High Inquisitor of The Nine,  Head of House Kash’ebahl, Owner and Operator of “Curiosities & Collections”

HOBBIES: Reading, Painting, Piano.

LANGUAGES: Common & Orcish fluent. Dwarven nearly fluent.  Shathyar fluent, some Darnassian, Troll.

RESIDENCE: Stormwind City, Dwarven District ///   The Bastille, Northrend.

BIRTHPLACE: Quel’thalas.

PATRON: The Galactic Cosmos.

FEARS: The loss of his people; control and ultimately everything he has built to endure.  Losing control of himself.

–––– 𝑅𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅𝓈 –––-

SPOUSE: Divorced Once. 

CHILDREN: Brinys Duskflame (Daughter)

PARENTS: Varrinea (Mother, deceased); Pytharis (Father, deceased).

OTHER RELATIVES:  Pyravari (Sister); Siida-Ray (Sister) Vallah (Brother, deceased?)

MENTOR/GUARDIAN: Raelyndia Duskhollow (deceased?)

PETS: None.

–––- 𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 –––-

Social Level: Very friendly, but can be reserved. Likes to observe, study and keep a keen eye on learning all he can through peoples body language.

One  Positive Personality Trait: Unstoppable, he will give everything to ensure his flock remains intact.

One Negative Personality Trait: Violent.

One Personality Warning: He is not quick to trust those he does not fully know and will often come across distant and rude.

Random Quirk: 

Addictions: Knowledge, Power, Control.

Habits: Can very often be caught reading from a flesh covered book.

–––– 𝒜𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ––––

 SMOKING HABIT: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

 DRUGS: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

 ALCOHOL: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

–––– 𝒫𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝒫 𝐻𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈 ––––

SURVIVOR OF NZOTH: As Lazarius spent most of his three centuries as a slave to the mad old god; and his own order, he is sympathetic to those who have broken free and have nowhere to go.  The Nine now stands more as a beacon to invite apostates and dark magic users who have been shunned away from society and seek a home. 

DARK-THEMED RP: Lazarius is no stranger to going through a rough path to find a brighter road on the other side.  He is fully capable at doing Darker Themed RP because at his core he is a rather violent creature born into chaos.  Cross-faction welcome!

DARK MAGIC: Necromancy? Hemomancy? Voidmancy? If it has to do with dark magic, witchcraft or the black arts Lazarius will be interested.  Not so much Warlocks though. . .he kinda. . .doesnt like Demons. Alot.

BUSINESS DEALS:  Do you seek something? Are you looking for a specific book? Painting? Rare dagger? Map to a hidden treasure or library? Do you have goods to deal in? Are you looking to swap for jewelry and magical items? Perhaps you’ve noticed that Red Door with the Serpent Knocker in Old Towne? If you did, then it has been watching you as well.  Perhaps you should knock and come inside?

PLAYER’S CHOICE: I would always welcome an OOC conversation to try and decide what is the best way to incorporate story arcs and ideas.

–––– 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼’𝓂 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐹𝑜𝓇 ––––

Friends, colleagues, rivals, contacts, connections of any kind.  I have been away from RP for a bit in game but Discord is where I spend most of my time so its been hard to reach out.

–––– 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇 ––––

I’m an old-head.  Been playing WoW since Beta, RPing in general since the pioneer days of A.O.L and pre-internet on that good ol’ tabletop game.

I’m always happy to discuss things OOC before engaging in any RP.

Adaptable to many different stories and situations.

All RP themes from the dark, serious, and mature (violence, sexuality, murder, drug / alcohol use, etc.) to the light-hearted, humorous, and cheerful. I enjoy balance. Awesome dramatic plots. Heavy, feels-ridden plots. Elaborate, grand-scale, long-term plots. One-shot plots. Personal and private plots. Subterfuge and hidden plots. Serious injury. Temporary injury and incapacitation of mind or body. Temporary captivity or imprisonment. Combat. Ambushes. Assassination attempts. Rivalries. Deep platonic friendships. Romantic tension. Sexual tension. Coarse language.

Very friendly, but shy at times.  I am also not exactly always in game, most of my RP is done via Discord or Tumblr.

–––– 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝒶 ––––

Asks, prompts and boosts are all loved and appreciated! ♥

In Game - Brashka (mostly since I only really play WoW for PVE these days.)

Discord - thehouseofthenine#2795 

Holly and Oak

I stare through the windshield, skeptical. Arthur says, “You wanted a castle.” Getting out of the car to better look at the hotel a breeze sends a chill down my spine. The name ‘Hollyoaks’ is on the side of a turret in large red letters. I turn to the woods the hotel backs onto after a twig snaps. I feel eyes watching from the trees and I stare back. I snap to reality when Arthur shuts the trunk. He passes me my duffle. “It’s not a real castle anymore, just the facade. But it is one of the oldest in the country. It was a monastery or something, repurposed a century ago.” He side-hugs me as we look it over again before whispering conspiratorially, “There are even tales of people being eaten by the forest.” “Uh-huh, probably bears or wolves if we’re talking settler-times.” He jabs me with his elbow. “It’s perfect,” I whisper to his temple. “Look, Pat. Solstice decorations. A Krampus, and there’s a Yule Cat,” he points out as we pass a row of pine trees. As we make our way to the lobby, I keep having to duck tree branches. Once we’re through the front doors, Arthur plucks a twig from my hair. “Friendly trees they’ve got here,” I mutter to myself. The receptionist chuckles before Art takes over dealing with our reservation. I tune out the conversation as I look around. Moving away as he deals with some inconvenience, I notice small plaques under the large displays hanging around the lobby and get lost in reading about the place. It was, as Arthur told me, an old monastery converted from a manor house, built by an eccentric affluent noble that sailed here on one of the earliest voyages after Europe learned of the New World. The nobleman even built some stone follies that a maintained trail near the hotel goes through. An ancient-looking mummers costume stands in a case surrounded by pictures and newspaper articles from the local town telling of their history and traditions. I'm reading about their upcoming Solstice parade when I hear Arthur. “Here you are.” He hugs me from behind, head on my shoulder to look at what has my attention. “Sorry to take so long, Ah, that would be the holdup.” He points to the solstice article and settles his chin. “Seems no one noticed our room was double-booked because of their midwinter festival. It’s all sorted out now and we have a larger room on the ground floor at the back.” “That’s fine. I really just want some time with you, Art.” I lean into him. “Well then, let's go get comfy, order some room service, and finally enjoy a vacation together.” I hum, “Together.” Our schedules never match up on time off. This is our first vacation together in years. I’m determined to enjoy it as I follow him through the labyrinth of halls. “And here we are.” He smiles, turns the actual key, and pushes the door. My spine tingles as we enter. Passing an immaculate modern bathroom, I stop in my tracks at the end of the small hallway and stare at the dark, wood-paneled, medieval-themed room. A large wooden four-poster bed is against the far wall; the posts carved to look like trees. Everything is colored evergreen and white with pops of red scattered about. Heavy velvet curtains are pulled back to showcase an elaborate stained-glass window made to look like trees filled with frosted and cut glass leaves. “Damn!” Art drags out the word. “This is… Wow! If only all our mixup/upgrades were this spectacular, right?” “I love it,” I say, and Art smiles. I kiss him. “Love you. Now, I believe there was mention of ordering room service?” “Yes, my liege,” He bows, making me laugh, “Now, where is that menu?” I turn on the television to see what is available. It blares onto the weather report and I hastily turn down the volume so Arthur can order. When finished, he hangs up and we just stare at each other. I’m startled by a tapping on the glass behind me and almost let out a curse. Arthur moves past me to the window and looks outside, unsuccessfully. “Ah-ha! Here we go,” he says and I hear a click. The tree in the center of the window splits and both halves swing in to reveal a small terrace bordered by a fence on one side and a low hedge of holly bushes and two robust oak trees around the rest. One tree has a low bough, swaying in the breeze, which taps on the window again. “Just a tree.” I sigh. Arthur walks to the edge and looks along the flank of the hotel, where I join him. There are bright ribbons in the tree branches and pine boughs decorating the lamp posts that light up a trail that passes right by our room. “Away from everyone is right. We snagged the last free room. The rest are supposed to fill up over the next few days.” “For their festival?” “Yeah.” “I think it’d be nice to check it out. What do you think?” “Patrick, babe, this entire trip is about spending our time together. And I kind of only figured out the hotel part, so whatever you want to do, I’m game.” A knock on our door interrupts him as our food arrives. While he takes in the trays, I look around the terrace and the woods again. Another chill creeps up my spine and the feeling I’m being watched returns. I move the tree branch near the door to rest over the fence blocking our neighbors’ terrace, then close the door. I find the latch and click it shut, and lower a security bar before closing the sheer curtains in a rush. Turning on the lights, the feeling ebbs when Art looks at me and asks, “You okay?” “Mm-hmm. Just felt like I was being watched,” I admit. “Oh good, it’s not just me.” His shoulders sag. “Here, let’s close these ones too.” He pulls loose the tiebacks on the heavy velvet curtains which swing shut. “Ah, much better. Now let’s eat and get ‘reacquainted’.” He wiggles his eyebrows. I smile in spite of myself. “You’re on!” # Solstice, a few days later, starts with our going to the in-house restaurant for breakfast. We are at ease in a way we haven’t been in months. The weather channel, which seemed to be the only channel unlocked, forecasts an appropriate drop from mild to seasonal temperatures later in the day. The quaint surrounding town is littered with more of the same decorations as the hotel. We agree to split up for an hour to get each other midwinter gifts. I find a perfect red and white flannel scarf with holly embroidered on both ends, for him. The shop wraps it in plain craft paper and ties it with green and red ribbons and a holly sprig in place of a bow. We meet up in the town square, which is set up as a winter festival, literally bumping into one another in front of a hot cocoa stand. We order some and wander the festival. We finally stop next to a small park set up to be an ice rink. “Here, they were able to wrap it for me,” I say, handing him his gift. “Ditto.” He smiles and hands me a silver paper bag with blue and silver curlicue ribbons stapled to the top. We both tear into our gifts and I’m entranced by mine. It’s a scarf too; light green with ribbons of darker green yarn woven through it. Embroidered along one edge in a repeating pattern are silver oak leaves. “I love it,” we both say in stereo. We laugh and wrap ourselves up in them just as the bells of a nearby church start chiming. The parade is due to start soon. By happenstance, we are in the perfect place to watch everyone gathering. Drums start pounding, joined by tambourines, and people make a spectacle of dressing in sackcloth and bundles of sticks and placing straw heads over their own. A whimsically dressed woman with an old rusted loud-horn begins calling out directions and asking for volunteers to be the Oak and Holly Kings. “I’ve been reading up on that,” admits Arthur. “There's a really old story about the personifications of summer and winter who battle for control of the forest throne, and with it, the seasons. From mid-winter through mid-summer is the Oak King who rules. And the other way, mid-summer to midwinter it’s the Holly King.” “And what about you two gentlemen?” the eccentrically dressed woman asks. It feels like more than everyone is looking at us. “What would we have to do?” I ask the woman. I can feel Arthur’s fist pump beside me and I quickly squint at him. “I haven’t said yes yet,” I whisper. “But you haven’t said no either.” He smiles back at me. The woman lowers the funnel. “It’s all good fun. We have costumes behind the stage at the other end, eh?” she points. “And you come out in them and parade through the town. Then a little play where you pantomime the eternal battle and whichever of you is wearing the Oak King gets the throne.” “Alright, I'm in,” says Art before I can decline, but I shake my head at his enthusiasm and reluctantly agree. The wind suddenly picks up and snowflakes bluster about as a cheer rises from the crowd. We are pulled towards the gazebo-stage-contraption set up at the end of the square. As we are getting into the outfits, a quick rock-paper-scissors wins me the Oak King, one of the twigs on my costume scratches my cheek, and Art pricks his thumb on his. “These should come with a warning.” “Or gloves.” He laughs Another woman, this one in all black and a walkie-talkie on her hip, apologizes profusely explaining they’re usually easier to adjust. The coordinator for the parade comes over and explains everything to us again. We are given staves and shown the rudimentary “fighting” we are to do at the end. Art is having a blast. The drums rumble a warning before the costume tech comes by and hands us our ‘heads’ wishing us, “Good luck.” The parade is a blur of cheers and waving. During the pantomime, I step the wrong way and Arthur overcompensates and we end up actually hitting each other. I stumble back just as a light flashes and smoke billows up from nowhere. I lose sight of Arthur in the commotion, and the people cheering for the new king is intoxicating. The throne is weirdly warm for stone in winter. There's so much noise and I’m pulled around by so many revelers, I lose count. At some point, a foul-smelling beer is poured down an opening in the top of my crown. I almost retch. It’s suddenly sunset and where the hell is Art? Everything moves slowly. I ask where I can take off the costume and am pointed in a direction, I walk where I'm pointed for I don’t know how long, Abruptly, I recognize I’m on the trail that passes the hotel and can see our room. The lights are on. The party sounds distant, and since I'm here, I might as well get into some clean clothes; I can bring back the costume tomorrow. I step over the hedge leaning on one of the oak trees and lose my balance before the tree catches me and pushes me back up. I mutter a “thanks” and move to the door which opens just before I can knock. Arthur looks pale and angry. “About time!” “Sorry?” “You disappeared at the parade. They said you’d be on your way shortly. I came back here to wait for you and that was hours ago.” He backs up when I lurch into the room. “Help me get this off, no one would help me.” He continues to glare at me. “Please, Art. This thing is starting to hurt. I think they slipped me something.” I tug at the neck and start to fall when Art is right there to catch me. “Alright. But I’m still mad.” He reaches back and pulls the cord I couldn't reach. The suit opens and clatters to the floor. “Ugh, this is heavy.” I try pushing the head off and it doesn't move. “Ow, uh, Art? Help” “Really? You can’t-uh-okay.” He tries to pull with no effect. He reaches in and underneath and I feel his fingers brush over my face before the head twists and comes off. I take several deep breaths. “Thank you.” He places the head on top of the stick suit on the bed before turning back to me. “What’s that?” he asks. “What?” He looks closer, “You have a twig.” He reaches out to brush off my face. “It must be glue or something,” I say when it doesn’t move. “Let me go wash it off.” “Yeah, and you’ve got some twigs in your hair too,” Art says with a chuckle as I go into the bathroom. “Man, this stuff is tough.” The face wash isn't doing anything besides stinging. I lean in closer to the mirror. “What the fuck? Art, come look at this, I think it's growing out of my cut.” There in an instant and looking close, he twists my head into the light. “The hell?” “Can you pull it out?” I close my eyes for a second feeling him touch it. I open them when he says, “Okay, on the count of three. One, Two-“ He rips it out. A tendril of sinew I can feel slide inside my cheek comes out of the cut with it. I call out in revulsion and proceed to wash the cut again. The stinging subsides as I inspect my face in the mirror. “Let me see?” Art moves closer and once my face passes his inspection he smiles and kisses me on the cut. “All better.” There is a rattling from out in the bedroom that sounds like the tree branch on the window again. “Ugh, I must have knocked the branch loose when I came in.” “I’ll get it. You finish cleaning up and then we’ll pack up. This place was sweet but that was just too weird for me. We’re going home.” I sigh, “Yeah, okay. Let me just…” I gesture to my hair and he nods before leaving. “Fuck! Art?” I call out, hands in my hair. “Maybe later. “ He chuckles,” What the-” Whatever he was going to say is tuned out as I stare at my reflection. The sticks in my hair won’t move; they made a crown of green shoots that will bend and flex but not come off. I take a deep breath and pick one and pull hard. It pops out like the one in my cheek with a sick sliding feeling as another tendril of roots slide out. I throw it on the counter and shudder. ”Gross.” I make quick work of pulling the rest just as harshly. I grab a small towel and soak it in water. I can hear the rattling again. Rubbing my face with the cloth, I walk back to help with the packing. I trip over Art, landing on my knees. He is lying on the floor beside the bed, a red line across his temple. Standing in the doorway to the terrace is the Oak King, head under one arm. The other pulling open the window. The trees outside our room bend over and their branches hold the doors. Muttering a litany of curses, I crab-walk backward towards the door to the hallway. I twist to get up and slip on something before I slam into the wall. Thin, rough iron-strong fingers grab my shoulder and pull me back. I fly through the air and land on the bed. Loud creaking from the trees in the doorway pulls my attention and their bark twists into grotesque grins. A rattling sound from the other direction has me staring back at the Oak King. Vines grow from the bedposts and wraps around my wrists and ankles. They pull tight and it is nowhere near as fun as when Art did it to me the other day. The suit rattles and hobbles towards me. The front of it buckles, snaps, and opens wider. It reaches for me and presses on my arms as it straddles me. It bends forward and the opening where the head should have been is right at my face. A warm breeze billows out of it smelling like summer flowers. My stomach turns. I thrash around and the suit's arms rip and scratch, tearing my shirt. It reaches for the scarf I am, somehow, still wearing, but pulls its ‘hand’ back, hissing a putrid honeysuckle. Both arms rise above its headless body and I shut my eyes. I expect pain with the crunching noise but instead, the pressure is lifted off of me and my eyes open. The suit is crumpled in the doorway and being picked up by the trees. Huffing and holding a staff is Art. “Sorry, Oak King. This time, Holly wins.” He swings the staff again and knocks the suit out onto the terrace before rushing to the doorway and swinging the staff once more, cracking the tree branches holding the doors. He shuts them, flicks the lock and slams the security bar in place, stepping back as the door rattles in its frame. He turns to me, “Time to go!” He moves to the bed and begins pulling at the vines holding me. Cursing, he turns and grabs a knife left from his dinner and cuts one. After the vine snaps, the rest tremble and let go. He pulls me up and I kiss him before we turn and run from the room. We are near the end of the hallway when we hear the terrace doors hit so violently, the glass shatters. The scratching and rattling of tree branches on the floor fill my ears. We run through the lobby ignoring the receptionist’s call, Art grabs my hand and pulls me toward the entrance. “Fuck it. Let’s just go.” We are out the doors and in his car in the blink of an eye. He starts the car and pulls down the drive. It starts snowing and the wind picks up. I can feel the forest on either side of the road watching us. “Art?” “I feel it too.” He stomps on the accelerator. The falling snow fills the headlight’s beams. Tree branches bump and tap on the car from either side. A dark shadow darts in front of us. Art hits it and sticks fly everywhere as we skid to a stop. The outline of another shadowed figure detaches from the trees and steps closer. It is the Holly Suit staff in hand. The snow hovers as the moment stretches. The Holly King moves to where we hit what must have been the Oak King. It turns back towards us and raises its staff. I hit Art’s shoulder and hiss, “Drive!” We start moving forward again and the snow engulfs the Holly King. For the next twenty minutes, Art drives, white-knuckled, and silent. I reach for the climate controls to warm us up. “That…really happened, didn’t it?” I ask, holding my hands at the vent. “Mm-hmm.” He nods. The snow lets up as we near the city, its lights painting the clouds orange. When we get home, I rush to my laptop. “What are you doing?” Art asks. “I’m looking up whatever the fuck that was.” I toss my scarf on the table. He shrugs. “I’m going to shower, then bed. Don’t take too long, babe, there’s always tomorrow.” I've lost myself down a rabbit-hole of fables, allegories, and history by the time he’s back. And none of what I’ve read makes sense. “You’re late. Come with me?” Art extends his hand to me. I smile at him and sigh into a yawn, “You’re right.” I take his hand and am pulled into a hug. His skin is warm and hard. “I love you.” I pull back to kiss him but his arms are a vice. His fingers are digging into my back. “Art?” His back is rough under my palms and I twist to see our reflection in the slowly lightening window, next to our open door. His spine looks like bark. Something sharp is digging into my hip and his fingers are piercing. “Arthur?!” I smell flowers. Wood creeks in my ear as he turns his head and whispers, with not Art’s voice. “The battle goes until dawn.”

I wanna talk about the new star wars clips but without spoiling stuff for people

So I put it behind the cut...

Ok, now that you’re still with me, a lot of people are talking about the clips (shown at D23 on the weekend to attendees of a specific panel and then some of them this morning on GMA) and trying to analyze (as you do) what’s going on.

Based on these clips and the teaser from back... whenever we saw it (June?), I’m focusing mainly on what’s going on with Rey, which I think is what most people are doing. 

I don’t think showing a dark Rey (darth rey?) is the big reveal so much as they want us to wonder how the hell she gets that way. People appear to be in two camps: it’s actually Rey having fallen to the dark side, or it’s from a vision. I’m in the former camp and I’ll tell ya why. But first, why I don’t think it’s a vision:

I mean, not to knock people who do think it’s a vision. Perfectly cromulent explanation, really. It’s just that people think Rey can’t fall and come back in one movie and I’m kinda like eh about that since we’ve only really seen one person fall in a movie series and that was Anakin and he’s... special. I mean, so is Rey, but Anakin had a very specific path. It’s sorta like Rey’s but not the same. That and in Knights of the Old Republic it doesn’t take Bastila years to fall. Her fall is like, what, days? But the puzzle pieces were there for Bastila, just like they are for Rey. Anyway, I don’t want to trash on why I DON’T think it’s a vision. I’d rather discuss why I think it’s gonna happen in real time:

1.) Rey is a fucking ball of anger. I don’t like having to use the novelizations for support but I will - In the Last Jedi novelization, we get opinions of Rey from a few sources: Snoke, Luke, and the fish nuns. The fish nuns mostly think Rey is rude and destructive, Luke can’t believe how quickly she goes to the dark side, and Snoke recognizes that not only is she insanely powerful and possess a “towering will”, but that she’s filled with hatred (for him, to be fair, but still). 

2.) Rey is actually impatient. I know Rey likes to play up how patient she is, having waited for her family all that time, but there are other cases where she’s quite impatient. She gives up on Luke fairly quickly, rushes to see Kylo after one vision she misinterprets, bosses Finn around when he can’t correctly identify what are really specialty pieces of equipment. In the book Before the Awakening, Rey gets quickly irritated by the mere presence of other people helping her to repair her ship (to be fair they did later take it, but only because they wanted to leave Jakku sooooo...) The only people Rey seems to have infinite time for are her parents, and that’s because it’s her desperate need to have them with her and give her what she craves: love and affection. And the dark side is a quicker way to gain what we want, as yoda warns.

3.) Rey’s looking for parents/father figures. We know this because Kylo tells us so (and Rey). She doesn’t like to be told this, but it’s true. She imprinted on Han right away, and tried to with Luke. And before you go “why would she imprint on Palpatine???”, and I’ll say that Palpatine would probably appear to her in a way that she’d not immediately find threatening, perhaps. I mean, if he shows up looking like good ol’ Sheev Palpatine, senator from Naboo, that guy was the epitome of try-hard father figure. He’s also got a lot of experience on his resume for it thanks to his time with Maul and Anakin. He loves finding orphans and offering them all kinds of good shit.

4.) Rey’s been hearing voices telling her to burn things. I mean, not really, but she has heard voices in her head telling her shit, like to kill Kylo, etc. And this is usually when she’s tapping into her angry Rey dark side shit and going all Darth Maul on someone. She also seemed really concerned when she was trying to explain this to Luke. That “something’s inside me and now it’s awake” shit is coming to full fruition. 

5.) Rey has been trying to compartmentalizing her dark side shit for years. She tries to keep her emotions in check and that’s... not good. Like instead of just telling people “yeah I’m an orphan” she’s like “Oh no its cool my family loves me and just sold me to a guy in a junkyard who would sell me on again to skin traders if he got the right price”. It’s pretty fucked up. This sort of actually reminds me of loved ones who do this sometimes and it never ends well. All that stuff has to come out some time, and with Rey it’s probably going to come out all at once. Big badda boom.

So here’s what I think will happen:

1.) Rey will be in some darker place (mentally) due to her interactions with both Kylo and her Resistance family. Perhaps it will be them discovering her bond with Kylo and Kylo’s continued First Order shit that will simultaneously alienate her from both. It might happen quickly but still make sense in the movie, with time for her to fall and come back.

2.) Her fall will be accelerated by the influence of Palpatine. You better believe Rey is like catnip to a dude like that: angry orphan looking for love and acceptance? Palpatine is going to be all over that. Palpatine will probably offer to resurrect her parents or something. 

3.) Rey’s two outfits we’ve seen are white and black to contrast her false “purity” to her later fall. And when I say “purity” I mean “as a hero”, not sexually. I know when her white outfit came out, people were like “why?” and some people were pointing out it’s her visually trying to turn away from her past looks, where she was more grey than anything, and presenting this purer form to the outside world. And I gotta say those interpretations were probably spot-on. Her trying TOO hard to be pure and good will probably just push her further to fall, and fall hard under the expectations. And so what’s the opposite of white? Black!

4.) Rey’s fall will be quick, but also super temporary. You don’t really need to draw this out. You just need the scenes to get to the damn point. It also helps when you frame scenes from her perspective, as we’ve seen before. There’s no set length requirement to show such things happening, only that they are coded in a way that the audience understands what happened.

5.) Rey will be OK in the end. Rey’s not going to fall and then THE END. Come on. It’s Star Wars. She’ll be fine... mostly. But yeah, she won’t STAY dark, is what I’m saying. Luke had his moments where he could have gone dark forever, but didn’t. He never fell totally, but then again his childhood wasn’t as shitty as Rey’s. Anakin’s fall took years but he was also surrounded by like, what, 10000 jedi? It wasn’t until they were distracted by the Clone Wars and the Separatists and all the other shit Palpatine was throwing at them that Anakin fell. And then it took another three movies to get him back but again that’s Anakin’s story.

6.) What about Kylo? Kylo/Ben will be the one to bring her back, but I’m not taking credit for any of that because it’s what smarter people than me have already observed. Kylo/Ben loves her a whole lot, he’s just a dipshit who doesn’t know how to express it properly. But when he does it will be at just the right time to bring her back. This is basically the plot to Knights of the Old Republic anyway, but I’ve seen it play out similarly with heroes who fall/die etc and their anti-hero/villain counterparts finally get the courage to express their love. 

ACTUALLY that’s what happens in the Care Bears II movie from the 80s. Not saying you should go watch it (it’s largely kinda boring but has some nice songs and moments) but if you do you’ll see a lot of similar themes. And what does this random animated movie from the 80s have to do with Star Wars? It was animated by Nelvana, who actually worked on Star Wars cartoons around the same time because George Lucas admired the studio and their stories. So, there ya go: Six degrees of Care Bears.

Anyway, the movie looks great. Can’t wait to see what actually happens!

Good Old Days (Steve)

Summary; Steve has never been a fan of parties, so you come up with a little surprise for him. Turns out, he surprises you too. 

A/N; Cute, fluffy, fall fluff is my stuff dude. Enjoy!! 

Warnings; Pure fluff. Language.

Words; 1,544

Fall Fluff Masterlist

Steve doesn’t like parties.

Noisy, impersonal, dark things that they are. I know this and that’s why my eyes find him in the crowds every once and a while just to make sure he isn’t contemplating another dive into the ice to escape all this. It’s Tony’s first day of Fall bash. Pumpkins are everywhere, orange, yellow, and red spotlights dance around the room as if searching for felons but instead find heroes. Black and orange streamers decorate every still surface and I know for a fact that there are confetti canons waiting to go off when Tony gets just drunk enough. This isn’t as big a party as Stark would usually throw since we’ve moved to the new facility, but everyone seems to still be having a good time. Tony and Rhodes are teasing each other like crazy with Pepper to referee over on the grey couches, Natasha and Wanda are talking at the bar with Vision close by, and I’m close to the live band sipping on my gin martini and keeping a close eye on Steve. He’s leaning against the far wall and creeping closer to the exit. A smirk on my face, I put my drink down and slither through the swaying bodies on the dancefloor until I’ve reached the elusive Captain.

“Planning an escape?” I ask and he looks up from the amber liquid swirling in the glass held in his hand to meet my eyes. A little relief passes over his face that it’s me and not some stranger, but he still looks weary.

“You gonna stop me?” He replies with a smile teasing the edges of pink lips.

“Tempt you, maybe. Dance with me?” I offer him a hand and he straightens as his eyebrows raise. Soft orange light passes over him and casts him in a darker light. Golden locks turn golden brown, blue eyes look darker like storm clouds, and the shade thrown across his face makes him look older than he is. Still not a hundred though. He seems to think about my proposal a moment, surveying my face and expression before downing the amber courage and setting down his glass.

“It’s been a while.” He admits and takes my hand. Callused, tender, and warm. Steve’s always so warm, no matter where we are or what the weather. He’s like his own little sun. We walk onto the dancefloor and he raises our clasped hands, then slides a hand onto my waist as my hand lands on his shoulder.

“So far, so good.” I commend him and receive a small smile. “Sorry Sam couldn’t come. Said his mom would box his ears if he missed another family meal to pow around with Captain America.” Those blue eyes light up at the mention of his friend and a quiet laugh escapes his tight chest. A little tension rolls off his broad shoulders.

“Eh, it’s alright. Family’s important.” He tells me as a song definitely not meant for slow dancing comes on and we keep slow dancing. I consider his words and his pretty face.

“So why, during this lovely, family event, are you trying to escape?” I ask and he sighs, looking over my shoulder with a half-smile on his face. Blue eyes once again meet mine and he pulls me a little closer. Whether a conscious or unconscious, I don’t care.

“Family can be a bit too much at times. Especially when…not everyone is here.” He murmurs the last sentence and that weight is back on his shoulders again. A moment passes and I realize we’ve stopped swaying. I take a step back but tighten my grip on his hand.

“How about a walk then?” My hand waves to the door and Steve’s eyes turned surprised and amused.

“Now you’re helping me escape?” He teases as we slowly walk to the doors hand in hand. Neither of us make a move to let go and I feel his warmth travel throughout my body. I meet his eyes and feel that familiar spark in my heart at the small amount of happiness there.

“Something like that. Actually, I want to show you something.” I reveal and my steps quicken once we’re out of the main party space. Steve picks up the pace easily to keep up with me and seems to look a little younger as excitement fills those blue eyes. “I know Bucky made you come. He called and told me to keep an eye out on ‘his punk.’” Steve’s eyes widen.

“He called you?” He repeats in disbelief, looking at me in a new light.

I nod and tug him around the corner and into the stairwell. “The minute you left the apartment. He told me you didn’t want to leave him but since things between him and Stark are still rocky he wanted to sit the party out. Thought you might be down so I kept an eye on you.” He stops us once we’ve reached the top of the stairs and I turn towards him, shocked a little when I realize we’re so close in the small space. Eyes soften when he looks at me.

“What’s going on here? What’d you do?” He asks curiously, eyes wide and radiant smile on his lips. He looks younger than I’ve seen in a while. Guess he doesn’t get a lot of good surprises in his life. That’s why I put this together. I slide closer to reach the door and our noses brush. We both breathe in sharply at the feeling, then look to one another’s eyes. Smiling self-deprecatingly, those baby blues glance between my eyes and lips. Before something else happens my hand turns the knob and pushes the door open. Steve reluctantly turns and those pretty lips part as he exhales in shock.

A cool breeze raises constellations of goosebumps across our exposed skin as we step out onto the roof. A small portable record player, my own, plays Louis Armstrong’s Skeleton in a Closet from Pennies from Heaven. The music seems strange out here, but the way Steve tilts his head and shuts his eyes a moment to listen tells me he thinks the opposite. This is his New York, I suppose. There’s a table littered with covered foods; Irish soda bread, champ, stew, even colcannon with a little heart charm in the middle. Two copies of H. G. Wells’ novel, War of the Worlds sits on the end next to some cheap whiskey Bucky snagged for me. Cardboard cut outs of black cats and pumpkins lay against the food table and the one thing not keeping with the 30s-40s theme are the little pumpkin string lights on the edge of the orange table cloth. My eyes watch as Steve turns to look at each and every variable, giggling every once and a while with glee.

When he finishes and looks to me I can’t help but blush slightly. Blue eyes wide, smile wider, hair a little messy from the amount of times he’s run his hands through it in disbelief, he’s breathtaking. “Is everything right?” I ask a little hesitantly. A few steps bring him to me and he frames my face with his big hands.

“Did you do all this? Make all these things?” He asks quietly, tone insistent and hands gentle. I nod, leaning into his touch a little.

“Bucky told me what to do. Sorry it’s not completely perfect, but this is as close as I could get. Tony has yet to make a time machine.” I joke lightly and he exhales a little. The smell of whiskey washes over me and I swallow a little nervously.

“Thank you.” He tells me earnestly. “This is incredible. You’re incredible.” His voice lowers with every word until he’s practically speaking onto my lips.

“You’re incredible.” I breathe and press my lips to his full ones. Soft, tentative, and warm, so warm. I can’t even feel the chilly air around us. Especially not when one of his hands leaves my face to wrap around my waist. Forget warm, everywhere he touches feels like fire ripping its way through me and settling in my gut. Chest to chest with my hands balling up his button down, a little moan slips from my lips when he rocks his hips into mine. Just barely, his tongue teases me by running over the edge of my bottom lip. A cleared throat has us springing apart and looking towards the door. Bucky’s sitting on top with a cowboy hat placed crookedly on his dark hair.

“Done yet?” He asks with a smirk and hops down, walking over to us. Shit, I forgot he was part of the surprise. I look at Steve sheepishly, but he’s absolutely glowing with happiness. Bucky reaches up and puts a clown nose on Steve’s. Giggling, I watch Steve furrow his brows and accept the brown cowgirl hat Bucky smushes on top of my head. “Happy Fall, punk.” He punches Steve’s shoulder and gifts him a rare grin.

“Thanks, jerk.” He responds and Bucky steps between us to the table of food. Steve and I meet eyes and he steals a quick kiss before we both walk to the food behind Bucky.

And it’s looking like a good Fall too.

The Voice of Love || Gavin Free/Michael Jones Tell Tale Heart AU

Hello! My first Rooster Teeth fanfic is here, with slight help from @being-edward-hyde! The AO3 link can be found here

"He had remembered the first time he had seen the asshole. The large, brooding man, who had sat behind the large and heavy oak desk. The King, they had called him. Not just his servants and clients, either.

The King saw himself, more or less, as an investment purpose. Those who were without pay, either from being laid off from their jobs, or other unfortunate circumstances, would come to him. The King, as filthy rich as he was from doing...whatever….would help them in one way or another. Offering work, or money in exchange for….other purposes. Whatever the deal may be, The King always pulled through.

Until he hadn’t."

Gavin has worked for Ryan “The King” Haywood since he was ten. Doing whatever he asked, when he asked. That is...until Michael Jones bursts into his life one fateful day.

When both boys realize they share mutual sour stories of the king, Michael turns to a twisted solution to an otherwise twisted agreement. After killing The King, Michael believes that both his, and the handsome Gavin’s problems are solved. But will Gavin acting as a voice of reason and good will convince him to admit to his crimes?

He had remembered the first time he had seen the asshole. The large, brooding man, who had sat behind the large and heavy oak desk. The King, they had called him. Not just his servants and clients, either.

The King saw himself, more or less, as an investment purpose. Those who were without pay, either from being laid off from their jobs, or other unfortunate circumstances, would come to him. The King, as filthy rich as he was from doing...whatever….would help them in one way or another. Offering work, or money in exchange for….other purposes. Whatever the deal may be, The King always pulled through.

Until he hadn’t.

Michael had walked all the way across town in the beating rain. The collar of his coat was pulled up all the way over his head in attempts to keep himself dry. As he approached the mansion, his nerves only seemed to grow.

The brunette inhaled some, walking across the courtyard before knocking on the large double doors.

As he waited, Michael couldn’t help but look around, tense. The mansion was the biggest building he had ever seen. The King’s estate was at least five times the size. Enough room to keep all of his servants. The building was made from brick, with vines growing across the walls. Due to the cold front coming, most of the leaves on the vines were wilted to colors such as orange, yellow, red, or even brown. The cold marble of the giant staircase had very few cracks in the surface, despite the rumor that the estate was at least a century old.

Michael’s gaze moved to the door as he saw it swing open from the corner of his eye. Holding the door open was a tall, thin blonde. His hair was shaggier, but combed back out of his face. He had very light facial hair, as if he was trying to grow in a beard that couldn’t quite grow in yet. He was handsome, in an almost ruggish way, with blue, almost nervous looking eyes. Michael fell silent while staring at the stranger.

“Can I help you?” The male spoke up, frowning some. He had an accent that Michael easily assumed was from Europe.

The brunette cleared his throat, gazing up at the other. “I’m here to speak to Haywood,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.

“Hay.. oh, you mean The King,” the other smiled some, his hand resting on the doorframe. “I’m assuming you’re his eleven o’clock?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah. I guess. That’s me,” Michael nodded.

“Follow me,” the blonde stepped aside. Michael cautiously obliged, walking in and looking around.

As if it were even possible, the inside of the mansion was even bigger than the outside. The hallways were adorned with red runners and dark drapes. The theme of darker colors and the haunting portraits on the walls that were lit by candles gave the entire place a creepy, haunted feel to it.

Michael stayed close to the other, looking around. There were occasional servants bustling around, all giving him cautious and worried looks. They looked almost pitiful. As if they felt sorry for him and wanted to warn him to turn back now.

“I don’t suppose you’re looking for work, are you? You don’t have to answer that, it’s just that this morning our message boy was found out back with three bullets through the chest, so it’s safe to say we’re looking for a new one,” the blonde spoke up. The sudden noise in the otherwise silent hallway made Michael jump.

“Not exactly, but I’ll be sure to let my friends know,” he spoke slowly, clearly weirded out.

“I’m Gavin, by the way...a right hand to The King, or more or less just an advisor,” he spoke quickly.

“I’m Michael. So, listen, do these meetings usually last l-” Michael was cut off by sobs coming from inside one of the doors, a young woman throwing it open and running out. Inside stood a tall, calm looking man. He was large, especially compared to Michael, with a thorough beard and almost stout posture. Even from across the office, Michael felt the man’s icy blue gaze staring into him.

“Your highness,” Gavin stood in front of Michael quickly, almost defensively. “Your eleven o’clock appointment is here.”

The King. Michael should have known.

“Send him in,” Ryan Haywood’s voice seemed to echo throughout the office.

“Of course, sir,” Gavin maneuvered behind Michael, putting a hand on his back and shoving him into the room. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m sure we wouldn’t mind some tea, it is nearly lunch,” The King mused.

Gavin nodded quickly. “Right away, sir!” With that, the blonde rushed off

Was it just Michael or was Gavin almost….afraid of The King?

Michael found himself frozen where he stood, slowly taking in the aura of the office, then slowly looked over to the larger male who was staring at him expectantly.

“What can I do for you, son?” The King demanded.

"I....uh...." Michael cleared his throat, walking further into the room and looking the man in the eye. "I come on behalf of my father," he muttered. "A month and a half ago, he was killed while on the job here. He had been working as a stableman when we had been told that he had been killed by being trampled by a few run away horses," he continued, trying to sound strong.

"I see....and what's your last name, young man?" The King quarreled.

"Jones," Michael uttered. "But that's not important. I'm here to question the fact of my father's last payment. We should have received it weeks ago but have yet to see it."

"And what do you expect me to do about this, Mr Jones?"

"Michael, please. And I would expect you to hand over my father's last payment," Michael said with determination.

"If I remember correctly, your father was killed the day that payroll was do. He hadn't worked enough to receive anymore pay."

"He was killed on a Tuesday. I'm well aware of the fact that you pay your staff every Thursday, Mr Haywood," Michael growled.

The king looked to the other, highly amused.

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Jones?"

"I don't believe that that's any of your business, Haywood," Michael said, dropping any formalities.

"I see. Well, I'm afraid that your father's position has already been filled. However, I'm sure we could find you a separate job, if you're really in need of pay."

"I'm not in need of any type of pay. My family was already living off one payment a week. Every little bit counts," Michael raised his voice.

"I see," The King hummed. "So you need to become the breadwinner now, am I correct? Assuming by the fact that you're here, you're the eldest child, or at least son. So now you're in position to be bringing some sort of pay home."

"You have no right to be assuming anything," Michael pointed out.

The King approached the boy, walking around him. Circling him. Inspecting him as if he were some sort of prey. It made Michael feel weak and vulnerable. Nervous.

"If you think that there's any way that I'm going to agree to work for you, you're crazier than anyone speaks of."

"Oh? People speak of my madness, eh?" Haywood put a firm hand on Michael's shoulder, making him tense. "They speak of my madness as if they wouldn't take it in exchange for my fortune, am I right? So much they could have, all for the price of sanity that's not truly gone yet?"

Michael shoved off the other's grip, glaring some. "What are you getting on about, you lunatic?" He snapped.

Haywood blinked before giving a small smirk. "All I'm saying, Michael, is that you took the time to call and speak with my servants to make an appointment with me to seek out money. Money that I don't owe you. But here I am, offering you a new way to make more money than you same seeking, yet you don't take it. So who's really the insane one here?"

"I'm not here for a job," Michael's voice shook slightly. "I'm here for the money you owe my family."

The King looked ready to speak again before there was a new knock on the office door and Gavin had peeked his head in, looking to the two with slightly wide eyes. He was carrying a tea tray, adorned with brightly colored scones and a floral tea pot. The King's grin grew unsettling. Michael stared at Gavin with wide eyes.

Gavin cleared his throat. "I'm terribly sorry and do hope I'm not interrupting anything, but the tea..."

"You're just fine, Mr Free. Please, come in. I was just discussing a job offer with Mr. Jones," Haywood said with a low tone.

Gavin slowly looked over to Michael with a slightly worried expression, as if silently asking 'are you okay?' Despite this, the blonde walked in, setting the tray down and readying two cups, pouring tea in them and passing them to both Ryan and Michael before getting ready to walk back out.

"Hold on, Mr Free," Ryan spoke up, staring at his assistant. Tensing some, Gavin turned, eyeing his boss warily.

The clear, weirdly toned tension between the two was enough to make even Michael uncomfortable.

"Have a seat," The King gestured towards the desk.

Gavin tensed a bit more. "Sir, your twelve o'clock--" He started. Michael noticed the dark, twisted look The King gave Gavin, making the blonde blink slowly, rushing towards the free chair beside Michael.

Michael looked between the two, squinting some. "I don't believe his presence is necessary for discussing such private matters."

"Gavin, we have jobs available here for Mr Jones, correct?" Ryan looked down at the two.

Gavin bit his lip, looking to Michael before giving a firm nod. "In multiple sections, sir..." He started.

"Perfect," The King muttered. "Find the perfect job to keep him busy."

Gleam Upon the Soundtrack

In the past, I’ve released my book playlists before the launch of the book. These tend to be inspiration playlists, not the music I find myself writing to. (If you’re interested in a “writing playlist,” let me know in the comments! I’d be happy to assemble something. There’s very much a “type” of music I listen to when writing a Bell Forging Cycle book.) Since Gleam Upon the Waves has been out for a little over a week, I thought I’d go a step further and not only share the playlist but give a few details, why I chose particular songs, and how I felt they reflected (and inspired) aspects of the story.

First, the playlist! Jam out, roaders.

Not a Spotify fan? The playlist is also over on YouTube.

SPOILER WARNING

The following details will contain Gleam Upon the Waves spoilers. So, if you’re still reading, I’d recommend avoiding the rest of this post until after you finished the book. For the rest of you, let’s head deeper into the playlist.

Prologue

Sons and Daughters – American Spirit

Sleep now child beneath The heavy current Dragging you along

This was the song that inspired this book. Something about life dragging you through the wringer without caring about your desires or plans cemented itself inside my head (even well before 2020.)

Chapter 1 & 2

Baltimore Blues No. 1 – Deer Tick

Can you hear the sound of the crawling flesh Now can you smell the burning desire This place is too small to hide All the ghosts that’s kicking around inside

There’s something gritty to this Deer Tick song. I felt it was a nice pairing to Wal putting on airs and wearing suits—despite his intentions, he can’t hide who he is. His problems will not disappear. Lovat devours.

Chapter 3

Gates of Dawn – Heartless Bastards

I have awoken The footsteps sound of thunder

While this tune more positive than Wal’s experience, I thought opening a new reality deserved a song that had a similar impact. I’m also a sucker for Erika Wennerstrom’s vocals. (Probably why Heartless Bastards make an appearance a little later.)

Chapter 1-3

How Deep Is The Ocean – Miles Davis

Like I wouldn’t include this in an ocean-themed playlist.

Chapter 4

bury a friend – Billie Eilish

Why aren’t you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

I had this chapter in my head since Red Little World. I also read it for Dead Drop Live last week. I loved the idea of Ashton being this ghost that haunts Wal—an echo of his past. One he weirdly cares about despite understanding that he’s an enemy. Eilish’s pop-minimalism just felt right for a decoupled avatar whom you may or may not want dead.

Chapter 5

Wild and Wasted Waters – Kill It Kid

Wild and wasted waters Have come to carry me on

For something so deadly, humans have an odd fascination with water. Also, this song fits with Wal being entirely out of his element. It’s helped by the Alan Lomax sample that works too well as an undercurrent for the story happening to Wal.

Chapter 6 & 7

Blood on your Bootheel – Caroline Rose

Think if you act like a man, you can alter this wheel; You can make it in this world without that blood on your bootheels

“Altering the wheel” is something Wal has attempting for a while (since Old Broken Road, if we’re honest,) but he can’t change his destiny. He can kick against the goads as much as he wants, but fate will drag him along whether he wants it or not.

Chapter 8

‘Round Midnight – Thelonious Monk

No lyrics, but man what a song. (If you haven’t noticed, any of the jazz numbers I call out in the books end up in my playlists.)

Chapter 9 & 10

Glitter & Gold – Barns Courtney

Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark The dark, the dark, the dark

Wal’s damn lucky for a guy that can’t escape his reality, eh? There’s also an element of foreshowing here. With the cult’s interest Wal can’t escape his past just like he can’t escape fate.

Chapter 11

Lovecraft in Brooklyn – The Mountains Goats

Someday something’s coming From way out beyond the stars To kill us while we stand here It’ll store our brains in mason jars

If you’ve read the last three books, it should be obvious why I included this one. Also, John Darnielle is a national treasure and should be protected at all costs.

Chapter 12, 13, & 14

Sirens – Lola Marsh

In a million years It’ll all be over Within a million years It’ll all be over

Yael Shoshana Cohen’s voice is incredible. There is a vastness in this song that matched the tone of the Wasteland. It also deals with time on an epic scale, and that’s something I appreciated—it’s cosmicy without being overt.

Chapter 15

Postcards From Hell – The Wood Brothers

I got a soul that I won’t sell And I don’t read postcards from hell

I hope you caught how Gleam Upon the Waves reflects the other stories up until this point. Wal waking in a hospital and pushing himself out of bed is awfully familiar. Despite what he’s faced with, Wal tends not to stop. He’s relentless. Tell him things are bad, and he keeps going. His tenacity is admirable, if not a bit foolish.

Chapter 16 & 17

Wicked Waters – Benjamin Booker

This must be where I lose it all, darling Throw myself into wicked waters

Again, water. Maybe our pal acted a bit too rashly?

Chapter 18

Ding Ding Dong – Waipod Petchsuphan

For all its familiarity, Empress is a foreign place, and Wal is a stranger. This poppy Thai luk thung track from ’76 sparked similar emotions for me. It’s familiar, borrowing from common themes, but at the same time it’s different from other music of the era. It’s also a bop.

Chapter 19

Hello, Darling – Conway Twitty

Hello darlin’, nice to see you, it’s been a long time

Should be fairly obvious.

Chapter 20

Figure It Out – Royal Blood

Nothing better to do When I’m stuck on you And still I’m here Trying to figure it out

This is a fairly big reveal, and while the theme of the song is related to Wal’s relationship with Essie, it’s even more complicated. “Figuring it out” is kinda a thing here, see?

Chapter 21, 22, & 23

You Want it Darker – Leonard Cohen

There’s a lullaby for suffering And a paradox to blame But it’s written in the scriptures And it’s not some idle claim You want it darker We kill the flame

Cohen’s last album deals with death and loss, there’s a heaviness to it, and it felt fitting for this section of the book.

Chapter 24, 25, 26

Mean Old World – Big Bill Broonzy

This is a mean old world to live in, I’m just travelin’ through It’s a mean old world to live in, I’m just travelin’ through Yes, sometime I get so blue, that I don’t know what to do

Another one that should be obvious. Poor Wal. Who’s the jerk that subjects him to this?

Chapter 27 & 28

Madness – Ruelle

Nowhere to run from all of this havoc Nowhere to hide From all of this madness, madness, madness

Eventually, you can only experience so much before it all just begins to break down.

Chapter 29 & 30

Sway – Heartless Bastards

So, I stumble and I sway into the room and I fade I hope my darkest day are behind me I want to stay here in the sun for a while I hope my darkest days are behind me

There’s a spark of hope here, and I feel like there’s a spark of hope in these chapters as well. Yes, two Heartless Bastard songs in this playlist. You’re going to have to deal.

Chapter 31

Remains – Algiers

While the captors boast On how they lower your costs The rich men gamble At the foot of the cross

When you make a decision, you need to be ready to deal with the outcome.

Chapter 32

Revival – Soulsavers

Why am I so blind With my eyes wide open, oh? Trying to get my hands Clean in dirty water

A song about people doing something they feel is right even though reality clashes with that desire, and somehow, at their core, they know it. If that doesn’t fit the Deeperists, I don’t know what would.

Chapter 33 & 34

The Church Bell’s Moan – Bror Gunnar Jansson

Don’t you hear them?

Ring the bell and eventually they’ll come.

Chapter 35 & 36

Get Loud for Me – Gizzle

I see my goal and get cold as December when Counting our sins, I don’t have no friends I came here to win, my start is your end Now let it begin now

FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. Also, this is such a great reflection of the previous song that I had to include it.

Chapter 37 & 38

The End – Kings of Leon

This could be the end This could be the end This could be the end This could be the end ‘Cause I ain’t got a home

A song about change and facing that change. Felt like a fitting end to this playlist. 

Chapter 37 & 38… again

I See A Darkness – Johnny Cash & Bonnie “Prince” Billy

And did you know how much I love you Is a hope that somehow you you Can save me from this darkness?

Wait, never mind. This is even more fitting.

Chapter 37 & 38… for real this time

The Parting Glass – Hozier

Of all the comrades that ere I had, they’re sorry for my going away, And of all the sweethearts that ere I had, they wish me one more day to stay, But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not, I will gently rise and I’ll softly call, “Goodnight and joy be with you all!”

No… this one.

So, that’s Gleam Upon the Soundtrack, a Gleam Upon the Waves playlist! I hope everyone enjoyed a glimpse into my musical inspirations. It’s really fun to assemble these things and reflect on why particular songs spoke to me over another. I totally understand why other authors do it as well. This isn’t the only playlist I’ve made for my novels, you can check out the other ones here.

Once again, thanks to everyone for picking up Gleam Upon the Waves. I’m really proud of it, and I hope you enjoyed your time back in the Territories. If you haven’t nabbed your copies yet, you can do so from any of the links below.

Buy the paperback:

Amazon – Barnes & Noble 

Buy the eBook:

Kindle – Kobo – Nook – Apple Books – GooglePlay

Finally, if you’ve finished Gleam, please leave an honest review, and if you liked it, tell your friends! Thank you for making Gleam Upon the Waves one of the books you chose to read this year. Time is finite and it’s an honor you decided to spend some of yours with my book.

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