#(absolutely cannot let him know that the town shipped him to my door so we wouldn’t go extinct

[kinokoshoujoart]

each of the bachelors’ kids’ have potential chapter 4 diary entries wondering why dad married you…

bitterly pragmatic guesses all around

[pure-garbage]

Redemption For A Would-Be Runaway? Sins That Cannot Be Absolved

Upon appraisal of her situation, Lana found herself cursing her little brother. The marines clearly knew who they were after and they cut no corners when it came to restraining her. She awoke in a cell with her back to the bars, arms stretched taut and wrapped with chains that secured her to the iron behind her. The locks were just out of reach. Even with her handy secret arsenal, Lana had little hope of escape.

'Damn it, Alan! When I get out of here I'm going to set Old Man Morry's boat on fire just to watch the stupid thing burn!' she seethed. Truthfully, she was most angry with herself. Morality aside, she was a woman on the run, separated from her crew and forced to fend for herself. It had been a weak moment of foolishness to believe that Luffy would be displeased with her for stealing a ship, even from someone like Old Man Morry. 'I should have stuck to my guns and gone through with my plan! This is what I get for not having strong enough resolve!'

Hopeless as the situation seemed, Lana was already thinking three steps ahead, trying to anticipate when she might get a chance to make a break for it. This cell was only meant to hold her temporarily. For her crimes against the government, which were admittedly many and grievous in nature, she would almost certainly be moved to Impel Down.

'During transport. That's the only chance I'll get,' she thought grimly. 'No one's coming for me. My crew has no idea where I am. I have no friends to rely on here. I'm completely alone, just like when I was younger. I got myself into this mess and I'm going to have to get myself out.'

Lana held herself back from the brink of despair by a thread. She refused to surrender hope until she was certain escape was absolutely impossible.

'Someone's coming,' her intuition warned. She heard their approach, footsteps echoing in the cold stone hallway.

"Lana?"

She frowned. The voice was familiar, but...

The sound of a key clicking in a lock. At her side, the cell door swung open and a man entered, a standard issue navy cap of shading his face, obscuring his features from Lana's view.

"Shh. I'm gonna get you out of here," he assured her softly. Lana watched, shock filling her as he started unlocking her binds.

'Who could have come for me?! Who knew I was captured?! Who...?!'

He passed to her other side to free her right arm and Lana couldn't hold back a sharp gasp of surprise as she got a look at his face.

"Vigo?! What the hell?! You're a marine now?!" she demanded, reeling. She felt like someone had picked up her entire world, shaken it and then set it down again on its head.

"No, I stole the outfit," he informed her. "These things are sea prism stone... are you gonna be able to run once they're off? We need to get the hell out of dodge."

He didn't know how devil fruit powers worked, she could tell by his tentative tone.

"Oh, I'll be able to run," she assured him. "But I can't leave yet! The marines took something from me, something I need to get back at any cost!"

"These?"

Vigo carried a satchel at his side. He opened it, revealing her knives and most importantly of all, the pair of vivre cards pulling weakly at the walls of the bag.

"You... found all my stuff too?! I don't understand, how did you even know I was here?!"

"Are you kidding, you completely wrecked the docks," Vigo said, managing a small smile. He emptied the satchel, handing Lana another navy uniform. "The entire town knows what happened, that the marines captured you. Let's get going. Alan's waiting for you."

Lana had so many questions, but she held them in check as she stripped and slipped into the offered disguise.

"We've got about a minute before the next patrol walks through. We need to be out of the building before then," Vigo explained quickly while she changed. "I know a shortcut."

"How do you know all this?" Lana managed, stuffing her belongings into her pockets and belt and following him out of the cell.

"Don't walk too fast, and straighten up a little," Vigo urged her correctively.

"Right. I'm a marine. I have a broomstick shoved all the way up my ass and I have to walk like it," Lana said sarcastically. Regardless, she fixed her posture as they moved swiftly through the halls. "You never answered my question. How did you find my stuff? How do you know the timing of the patrols?"

"The marines established this base here about three years ago. I've picked up work here from time to time, mostly as a janitor, but I've made some repairs here and there too. Plumbing, electrical, that kind of stuff."

"Huh. You grew up to be handy," Lana observed. Vigo chuckled wryly.

"Something like that. Anyway, I'm familiar with the layout of the building and I picked up a sense of the shift rotation by chatting with the personnel. This way. I know a shortcut and time isn't on our side here."

"I'm right behind you."

Lana let him lead the way. True to his word, he had them outside before the full minute elapsed. As they marched through town away from the base, Lana's heart pounded. A few more minutes passed, but she waited with bated breath, anxiety knawing at her. She knew it was only a matter of time until...

Bells rang and alarms blared behind them as the call went out that a prisoner had escaped.

"Time to book it! We're going through the woods!" Vigo informed her, taking off at a brisk run. His speed wasn't particularly impressive and Lana had to pace herself to avoid outstripping him instantly. After all, she had no idea where he was leading her. As they ran, she kept her eyes glued to her once boyfriend, confusing feelings welling up inside her as they dashed through the trees.

'I hated him for so long because he left me for dead... I still hate him for that. But this time, he came for me! He came to rescue me without being asked, knowing all the risks... I guess he had a solid plan, but still, what he did was really dangerous! If he would have been caught, they would have tossed him in a cell right next to me and thrown out the key! Vigo...'

They burst out into a secluded cove miles from town. Vigo was so winded Lana thought he might collapse on the spot, but he just doubled over, hands on his knees as he gasped and panted, struggling to catch his breath. Lana's gaze wandered, falling over Old Man Morry's boat. Her brother paced back and forth on the beach in front of the vessel, features twisted with worry. When he caught sight of her, he jogged to her side and wrapped her in a crushing embrace.

"Lana! Oh god, Lana, I'm so sorry! That was the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life, I'm so sorry I got you caught! Are you ok? Are you hurt?! The harbor looks like a couple of bombs went off! How the hell did you do all that, were they firing cannons at you?! God, Lana, I feel so awful, you have absolutely no idea! I'm so, so, so sorry!"

"Yeah, and you should be!" Lana snapped. She pulled free of his grasp and gestured dramatically at the boat. "Is that the same fucking boat?! Is that Old Man Morry's fucking boat?!"

"Yeah, it is," Alan admitted glumly.

"I thought the whole point of this mess was that you didn't want me to take Morry's stupid boat!"

"Well, when Vigo found me and told me about his plan, he mentioned something I, uh... yeah, I hadn't really thought of, like, at all."

"Old Man Morry's boat is the most valuable thing he owns, aside from his house," Vigo put in, finally straightening, having mostly caught his breath. "I helped him get it insured years ago."

"His boat has insurance on it?" Lana scowled, fixing Alan with a death glare. "I went through all that for a boat that he won't have the least bit of trouble replacing? Alan, I'm gonna murder you!"

"Please don't!" Alan cried, shrinking back and covering his eyes in fright.

"Ugh!"

"Lana, you guys don't really have time to be fighting," Vigo pointed out. "The navy will canvas the island first, but it's only a matter of time before they blockade the surrounding waters to keep you from leaving. You have to slip away before they can mobilize."

"You're right," Lana realized, practicality quelling her rage. "Vigo, you're right, and I... I do need to go now, but..."

She thought to say thank you, but the words wouldn't leave her throat. They caught there, choking her into silence as she was assailed by conflicting, turbulent emotions. Gratitude clashed with loathing, spite with forgiveness, urgency with the desire to settle things before she left.

"I owed it to you," Vigo said, taking away the need for her to find the right words. "After what I did... when we were younger, I mean. After I... Lana, I can't make that up to you and I know that. I won't make excuses for myself and I won't ask you to forgive me. Just know, I... I owe you and this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of that debt. So if you ever need me, for anything, I..."

Vigo trailed off, words failing him as well while emotion swelled up to overtake him. Lana was afraid she might start crying if she looked in his eyes. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

'He's guilty about what happened. He knows he was wrong. He regrets what he did.'

It was basic, but it had never occurred to Lana that Vigo might be sorry for breaking his promises to her. That he might want a second chance, an opportunity to redeem himself.

"I need to go now," Lana managed, still reeling from his words and the actions that served as proof of his earnest intentions.

"You really need to go now," Vigo agreed. "I'll help you two push off."

"Oh, just her," Alan sighed, a haze of depression settling over him. "It's okay, Lana, I know there's no way you'll take me with you after this mess... I understand. I won't fight about it and I won't follow you."

Lana scowled and rolled her eyes at him as she hopped aboard Old Man Morry's boat.

"Yeah, as if I'd let you get off that easy," she scoffed. "Get on the damn ship, Alan. You'll have plenty of chances to make it up to me on our way to find Zoro."

"Really?!" Alan managed, relief lightening his expression as he joined Vigo. The men pushed the boat off the beach, wading into the ocean up to their thighs before Alan hauled himself aboard to join his sister. Vigo gave the craft one final push while the Avariyas took up paddles to get themselves past the current.

Lana watched as Vigo's figure grew smaller in the distance. He waved a final time, but she didn't stop paddling long enough to wave back.

'I can't forgive him for what he did,' she decided stubbornly. 'But... maybe I don't have to keep holding onto this anger against him anymore. Maybe he's at least earned my indifference. After all, he did just secure my freedom for me.'

Ambivalence, then, for the man who had once crushed her dreams and shattered her heart. And perhaps, a modicum of healing for the runaway still lurking in the depths of the lockbreaker's jaded heart.

___________________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[saphirered]

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 3

Summary:  As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince (Logan x Roman)  Moxiety (Virgil x Patton)

Content Warnings: arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst

Chapter Warnings: none

Word Count: 2689

Read on AO3: here!

Cowritten with @ironwoman359 masterlist

False masterlist

A sharp knock pulled Roman from a fitful sleep, and he groaned, cracking open one eyelid.

“Who is it?” He called blearily. 

“Patton, sir!”

“Come in, then,” Roman said around a yawn, and Patton entered the room. 

“Good morning Lord- Roman!” He said, quickly correcting himself. “I trust you had a good night’s sleep?”

“I've certainly had worse,” Roman admitted, stretching. “Do you need something?” 

Patton nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“His lordship requests that you meet him at the stables this morning for a ride around the grounds. New riding clothes and boots should be in your wardrobe.” 

Roman raised an eyebrow. Three days of near pretending he didn’t exist, and now Lord Howard wanted to take a romantic ride around the grounds together?

 “Very well, I will be ready shortly,” Roman said, then he frowned as Patton turned to leave. “Patton, wait…”

Patton paused, looking back at him. Roman hesitated for a moment, but the housekeeper had said anything he needed...

“Could I...that is, do you know what happened to my clothes? The ones I brought with me, I mean?” 

Patton’s face twisted in sympathy. 

“Oh, um...well, I...” he looked away, and guilt flickered through his eyes. “Mrs. Wakefield, she...she told me to burn them.” Roman’s eyes widened, but Patton quickly continued, “I didn’t, though! I snuck them into the laundry when she wasn’t looking...I was planning on taking them down to a charity shop in town when I could get an afternoon free. It...it didn’t feel right, to have perfectly good clothes like that thrown out when someone could still use them.” 

Roman sucked in a breath. “There’s one thing,” he said quietly, leaning closer. “A cloak, torn at the hem, is it...do you think I could get it back?” 

Patton glanced behind him, as if Mrs. Wakefield herself might suddenly materialize in the room. 

“I...if Lord Howard sees you wearing it, I-“

“I won’t wear it,” Roman promised. “And the rest of the clothes, you can go ahead and give away. I don’t want any trouble, I just...I don’t want to lose it for good.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Patton said, and Roman smiled.

“Thank you, Patton, I’m truly grateful. Now...I must admit, I don’t quite know my way around the estate yet. Would you be able to show me to the stables?” 

Patton perked up at that, his face splitting into a wide grin. 

“I’d be absolutely delighted to!” 

Patton stepped out for a moment to let Roman get dressed, and then he led him through the halls of the manor. Roman did his best to memorize the layout as they went; the estate technically was his home now, and he wanted to know it like the back of his hand. Patton led him outside through a set of double doors set with frosted glass and onto a meticulously kept gravel path. As they walked, they passed by an immaculate flower garden and what looked like the entrance to a hedge maze before reaching what Roman assumed were the stables. 

Lord Howard was already there waiting for them, dressed in smart white riding pants and a tailored vest. Two men stood beside him, each holding the reins of a horse.

“Ah, good morning Lord Sanders,” the Earl called, and Roman bowed his head in greeting. “Come, let me introduce you to my stablemaster.” 

The shorter of the two men beside him bowed. 

“Joseph Acton,” he said. “I am at your service, my lord. And this is Angel, and her handler, Virgil.” He gestured at the taller man, who held the reins of a snow-white mare. 

Roman nodded to both stable hands, then reached out to pat Angel’s nose. 

“She’s lovely,” he said, smiling at Virgil. 

“She’s yours,” said Lord Howard, and Roman’s eyes widened. 

“I- really?” 

“Indeed,“ said the Earl. “I trust you can ride?” 

“Yes, I can,” Roman said. “I- you are too generous my lord, thank you.”

Lord Howard gave him a short bow, clearly preening at the expression of gratitude, and Roman smiled to himself as he took Angel’s reins. This may not be quite the marriage of equals he had always hoped for, but it didn’t mean he was unprepared for his situation. 

A man like Garret Howard had wealth and power to spare, and everything he did would be in service of either acquiring more or showing off what he had. If Roman wanted to improve his standing with him, he first had to stroke the man’s ego. So as they rode through the grounds, he oo’d and ah’d at the impressive landscaping and architecture, when asked how he was finding his stay at the estate so far he gushed about the size of his rooms and the quality of service from the staff, and at every opportunity, he brought the conversation back to Lord Howard, allowing the Earl to not-so-subtly boast about the size of his estate and investments. 

When they circled back around to the stables, Lord Howard swiftly dismounted his horse, and gave Roman a nod. 

“Thank you for your time this morning, Lord Sanders. You of course have free reign of the estate. I have much business to attend to today and cannot be disturbed, but I do hope you will join me for dinner this evening?” 

“Of course, my lord,” Roman said with a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

Lord Howard snapped his fingers and Acton hurried forward to take his horse’s reins. 

“Until this evening, then,” said the Earl, and then he turned and left without another word. 

Acton gave Roman a quick bow before leading Howard’s horse away, and Roman glanced around. He didn’t see the other stableboy anywhere nearby, so he steered Angel towards the stables himself. As he drew nearer, he finally spotted the tall, dark haired boy who had first handed him Angel’s reins leaning against a fence post and talking to Patton, of all people.

“Virgil! Get to work!” snapped Acton, and Patton jumped, guilt flashing across his features. The stablehand, Virgil, rolled his eyes, but stepped forward towards Roman, ducking his head and holding out his hands for the reins.

“Apologies, my lord,” he said lowly, and Roman flashed him a reassuring smile.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” he said as he dismounted. He glanced up to make sure Acton wasn’t listening, then added quietly, “and you may just call me Roman, if you wish.” 

Virgil’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise, and he glanced over at Patton, who smiled and nodded at him. 

“Alright then, Roman,” Virgil said. “How was Angel for you?”

“Oh, she was excellent. Weren’t you, girl?” Roman asked, patting Angel on the neck. “You deserve a whole barrel of apples for doing such a good job!” 

“I do have some sugar cubes saved back at the stable, if you’d like to give her some,” Virgil said slowly, almost warily. 

“I’d love to,” Roman said honestly, and Patton’s face lit up. 

Virgil nodded to himself, as if coming to a decision, then he turned around, tugging gently on Angel’s reins.

“Come on then, her stall is this way.” 

Roman and Patton followed Virgil into the stables, which housed around a half-dozen horses. Virgil led them through to Angel’s stall, then gave them all sugar cubes and baby carrots that they took turns feeding to the mare while he removed her bridle and brushed her down. 

Roman held out another handful of treats to Angel and glanced at Patton. Patton was stroking Angel’s nose, but the soft smile on his face was clearly directed more at her handler rather than the horse itself.

“So...you two know each other well?” Roman asked. Virgil looked hesitant, but Patton nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“When I started working here, I didn’t know anybody...and, um. I’m sure you’ve noticed that the senior staff can be...”

“Assholes?” Virgil grumbled, and Patton laughed nervously. 

“That’s, um, a strong word for it.” 

“Not necessarily inaccurate though,” Roman said, and Virgil blinked, clearly surprised. 

‘Well, suffice it to say, I had a little trouble fitting in at first!” Patton interjected. “But Virgil was actually nice to me, helped me find my feet, and we’ve been friends ever since!” 

Roman raised an eyebrow; based on the way that they looked at each other, he’d have guessed they were more than just friends...still, he wasn’t about to pry.  

“Pat, it was great to see you, but I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Virgil said. “You should get back, before Wakefield gets wind of where you’ve been.” 

“He should be fine, as long as he’s with me, right?” Roman asked quickly. “Since he’s my attendant, if I ask him to accompany me somewhere, that would supersede any other duties he has.” 

“I mean, yeah, probably,” Virgil said. “Still, you don’t know how Wakefield can be...I don’t wanna risk you getting in trouble.” 

“And I don’t want to risk either of you getting in trouble, so we’ll make sure we keep our visits on the short side,” Roman said. 

“Our...visits?” Patton asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, as my attendant, it’s essentially your job now to accompany me around the estate, right?” Roman asked. “It just so happens that I love horses, and taking walks around the grounds, so Mrs. Wakefield can hardly blame you if you end up spending more time than you used to outside the mansion.”

“Oh!” Patton said, his eyes widening. “Oh, Roman, you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to…”

“I do, though,” Roman said honestly. “It’s no trouble. And Angel is a sweet girl who deserves all the extra sugarcubes in the world, aren’t you?” he added, patting the horse on her neck. 

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Virgil said. “But you two should still probably get inside now, I don’t need Acton on my case again.” 

“Okay,” Patton said, quickly pulling Virgil into a hug. “I’ll see you later!”

Virgil looked embarrassed, but he hugged Patton back and waved to him and Roman as they exited the stables. 

“What else would you like to do today?” Patton asked Roman as they headed back inside. “Lord Howard takes dinner at seven thirty, so you have quite a bit of free time until then.” 

“Hmm...well perhaps you could give me a tour of the mansion?” Roman asked. “I believe there are several wings I haven’t even seen yet.” 

“Absolutely!” Patton said. “Follow me!” 

Roman was happy to do just that, and the two of them spent nearly an hour wandering through the house, Patton pointing out various features as they went. Roman’s head spun at the sheer size of the place; it was nearly unbelievable that just one man could own so much. At midday, Patton left him to arrange for lunch, and Roman found himself wandering the corridors alone. He decided to try and find the library again and turned around, only to collide headfirst with someone hurrying down the hall.  

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed as the person went sprawling, papers flying everywhere. “Here, let me help.”

Roman got to his knees to help gather the papers up, pausing when he saw just who he’d bumped into. 

“Oh...it’s Logan, right? Again, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention at all to where I was going!”

“It’s quite alright,” Logan said, getting to his feet and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “For once, I was not heading anywhere in a particular hurry, I merely intended to take my lunch in the library.” 

“Oh, I was heading that way too!” Roman said. “Or at least, I was trying to find it. Is it alright if I walk with you?” 

Logan shrugged.

“You may do what you wish, Lord Sanders.” 

He resumed his walk down the corridor, and after a moment, Roman followed, glancing around to ensure none of the other servants were nearby before he leaned over and spoke quietly. 

“Roman.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You may just call me Roman, as long as we aren’t around somebody who might get upset with you for it.” 

“Is there a particular reason you prefer not to be called by your proper title?” Logan asked as they reached the library, and Roman shrugged. 

“Formality has its time and place,” he said.

He paused and opened the library door, gesturing for Logan to enter. After a moment, Logan did so, heading towards a small table beneath a window, and Roman followed. 

“However,” he continued, “I’ve found it more beneficial in the past to be on more personal terms with members of my staff. Everyone is free to be at their best when they aren’t spending half their energy worrying about decorum.” 

“Members of your staff?” Logan repeated as he sat down, and Roman nodded. 

“So unless you have your own objections, I really don’t mind if you call me Roman,” 

Logan regarded him for a moment, then tilted his head forward slightly. 

“Very well then, Roman.”

Roman grinned, and sat down opposite Logan.

“So, tell me about what you do! Lord Howard called you his business secretary, what duties does that entail?”

“You...want to hear about my work?” Logan asked, sounding puzzled. 

“Of course!” Roman said. “Lord Howard has been...busy, lately, and I haven’t had much time to learn about everything that goes on here at the estate yet. I was hoping you would be able to fill me in, if that’s alright of course?” 

“I...suppose there is no harm in that,” Logan said slowly. “Though I’m afraid you won’t find what I have to say very interesting. My job mostly entails keeping track of paperwork, creating and distributing documents, managing the taxes paid to the estate as well as balancing the earl’s personal finances-” 

“All that, and he calls you a secretary?” Roman interrupted. “That’s the work of a manager, if not a full business partner!” 

“Yes, well” Logan cleared his throat, and shuffled some of his papers around. “Lord Howard would likely benefit from having a manager or business partner...however, he prefers to handle all matters that fall under his responsibility personally.”

“Or have you handle them,” Roman finished, and Logan gave him a wry smile. 

First Previous Next

“Or have me handle them,” he agreed.

“So Lord Howard trusts you, then?” 

“I would not use the word trust, ” Logan mused. “Rather, he knows I am capable of my job, and expects me to perform it to his satisfaction. Much of the day to day of running the estate falls to me, leaving him free to speak directly with other nobles and officials. I give him a report at the end of each week, and we discuss what expectations are for the next week.” 

“Would I be able to get a copy of those reports?” Roman asked. 

Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“Technically those documents are for the Earl’s eyes only. What would you even do with a copy?”

“All my life, I’ve been preparing to run an estate,” Roman said. “And now I’m getting married in six months, but I’m not sure the Earl even realizes I exist half the time. I don’t want to just sit around and twiddle my thumbs and not even know what’s going on under my own roof. I want to actually do something.” 

Logan watched him for a long stretch of time, and Roman wondered if he’d made a mistake, confiding in the man. Would he refuse Roman’s request? Would he tell Lord Howard what Roman had asked for? What would the Earl do if he found out Roman had requested confidential reports without his permission? 

“In all honesty, the Earl pays very little attention to what I do,” Logan said, pulling Roman from his spiraling thoughts. “As long as the numbers match up to what he expects. I should have no problem creating a second copy of my weekly reports, if you truly wish to see them.” 

Roman grinned. 

He had a feeling he and Logan were going to get along just fine.

Previous     Next

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (18) || atz

You and Wooyoung are sitting in the rigging, staring out to sea.

The Treasure has left Tortuga for a few days now, sailing in the open sea for the town of Nassau. From what Wooyoung has told you, Nassau, Seonghwa’s hometown, used to be a port thriving with pirate activity… until one day, the Royal Navy decided retake the town from the pirates. Pirate ships were burnt to the ground, the crews hung at the gallows and anyone associated with them brought in for questioning.

It is during that purge that Seonghwa’s parents were killed.

Seonghwa has finally left the confines of the galley, escorted to the sickbay to sleep and rest. Yunho is keeping a vigil beside Seonghwa, while you’ve taken over his cooking duties and Yunho’s lookout role. You may not be as well suited to the job as the two of them are, but it’s the most you can do for being to blame for Seonghwa’s condition.

If only you had known what to do.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

If only you hadn’t let the herbs be stolen.

You know it’s stupid, but the thoughts won’t stop echoing in your head.

If only you hadn’t gone out to celebrate your name.

You chew your lips.

If only you hadn’t come to this ship.

Guilt tears at you from the inside like the teeth of a piranha. The pain is all too acute, all to real.

“Hey.”

You’re jerked back from your thoughts by Wooyoung, who’s grinning at you. Somehow, the head gunner has pushed past the air of gloom surrounding the ship, managing to keep a broad smile on his face despite the weight on everyone’s shoulders. How he’s doing it, you don’t know, but part of you resents how easily he can seem to forget that Seonghwa is still in the sickbay, struggling to block out the voices of his dead family from his ears while all of you are absolutely powerless to help.

Even now, Seonghwa’s still refusing the sleeping incense, but Yeosang has given given him back the steak plushie, which he hugs to sleep every night. Jongho helps by singing his hyung to sleep. San mixes relaxing teas for him. Captain and Mingi studying the overlay of Nassau, trying to find the most inconspicuous way they can enter the town without garnering the attention of the authorities.

It’s only you and Wooyoung who can do nothing. And the guilt you feel is swallowing you whole.

Wooyoung suddenly leans forward, shackles clanging as he uses his fingers to turn your mouth up in smile. “I’m sure captain and Mingi will think of something. We’ll help Seonghwa-hyung and everything will be fine soon. Don’t be sad.”

Anger rushes forth.

“Don’t be sad?” You snap, smacking his hand away. Wooyoung looks visibly wounded, pain flashing across his face as his hand falls to his side, but you’re too caught up in your fury to notice. “Seonghwa-hyung is in this state and you have the gall to smile and act happy?”

Something in Wooyoung’s normally bright viridescent eyes darkens suddenly as he silently watches you rant.

“I hate how you’re still so happy go lucky! It’s like you don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone even though you’ve had family like Jongho-hyung and Yunho-hyung!” You continue raving, not seeing the way Wooyoung’s fingers clench so tight around the ropes his knuckles turn bloodless. “ I’m the only one who has no family, alright? I’m not like all of you, I don’t know what it’s like, but you’ve had family before, so shouldn’t you try to be more understanding?”

Silence falls between the two of you as you finish. Then you realise that you’ve just literally just thrown everything, your hurt, your pain, your guilt onto Wooyoung, who must be suffering too somewhere deep down inside. To your horror, his head hangs low so that you can’t see his expression, but from the way his shoulders are curled in on themselves, you must have wounded him deeply. Regret and guilt fills you.

You can’t seem to do anything right.

“Wooyoung-hyung, I’m sorry-”

“What else am I supposed to do, then?” Wooyoung breathes, turning to meet your eyes head on. You desperately want to look away, but his gaze is unbreakable as steel. There’s something utterly frigid about them, almost terrifying, like a dragon rearing its head. “Cry? Complain? Feel pity for myself? Curl up in a ball and hide until all the problems disappear?”

That’s exactly what you want to do right now under the weight of his of his intense stare, pinning you down.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean it-”

“You did.” Wooyoung cuts you off fiercely, his green eyes burning. “You meant every word of it and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I don’t intend on moping around because that’s not going to help anything. So get those stupid thoughts about it being your fault out of your head because none of them are true and smile because you need to believe things can get better.”

The resolve in his voice is unshakable, and you curl in on yourself to avoid Wooyoung’s stare, shame burning on your cheeks. All this while, you’ve only been thinking about yourself and your guilt, forgetting that you also affect the members of the crew and that moping around hasn’t helped at all.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly under your breath, but Wooyoung hears you anyway and his smile returns once more.

“I forgive you.” He beams at you gently, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your head rests against his shoulder, seeking comfort. “I understand.”

You wipe the tears from your eyes as you swallow down your emotions. Right. Smile. Be positive. Staying negative isn’t going to help anything.

Then Wooyoung frowns as he looks down onto the main deck. “Yeosang is coming over. I wonder what he needs.”

“Wooyoungie! Is Chin Hae up there with you?” The navigator stops in front of the main mast, hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks up. Wooyoung nods. “Yeah! Do you need him?”

“Can you tell him to come down? I have something to discuss with him.”

You frown, a little confused as Wooyoung glances at you in surprise. Then he leans forward to pinch your cheeks into a smile again, mirroring his own. “Go on. Don’t forget to smile.”

You manage a real smile for the first time in days.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-hyung.” You say as you climb over the side of the crow’s nest, making your way down and dropping lightly to the main deck. Yunho would be so proud if he saw you doing that. “What do you need, Yeosang-hyung?”

“San spoke to me earlier about your encounter with a fortune teller.” Yeosang explains to you as the two of you make your way across the main deck. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about. “Since Hongjoong-hyung is steering and Mingi is sleeping in the main hold, the captain’s quarters are empty and I thought that I could take this time to research on what the fortune teller said with you.”

Your heart leaps into your chest with ecstasy at what this could mean, but then you pause a little.

“Should we be doing this now? With everything that’s going on?”

Yeosang stops in the middle of pushing open the door to the captain’s cabin to look at you seriously. You’ve never realised how big and clear his eyes are, completely genuine and free of any trace of ill will. “It’s not like we can do anything now. What we can do is keep our spirits up and be strong for Seonghwa-hyung until we reach Nassau. And you’ve been looking down lately, so I thought I could try to cheer you up by clearing some of your questions.”

Warmth blooms in you at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Yeosang-hyung.”

The navigator smiles happily at you, almost radiant. “No problem. It’s my honour you’d trust me with such an important piece of information.” He opens the door and ushers you in.

You’ve never been in the captain’s cabin without the captain being present, so the room is unnaturally quiet and still. Yeosang, however, seems to know the room like it’s the back of his own hand, moving towards one of the shelves at the far end of the room while you hover awkwardly at the door.

“Please sit.” He indicates to the bed as he pulls out a scrap of parchment. You recognise it as the one Seonghwa had written your prophecy on the other time when you were discussing your visit to the fortune teller. Yeosang brings the paper over to you.

“So, what part haven’t you figured out?” He asks seriously, as he reaches in his pocket for a small wooden case, producing a pair of thin, gold rimmed eyeglasses and placing them on his nose delicately. You look over the words.

“The sea witch and the jar of clay.” You answer honestly.

Yeosang nods and moves over to his array of books. The walls are covered in them, from texts to maps to travel rutters to books of varying languages. There are even some tied up in stacks and placed neatly on the floor, all of them well kept and not a speck of dust on them.

He pulls out a few books, putting them in his arms as he mumbles to himself, eyes flitting among the shelves. Then he returns to you, setting the books on the table with a huff. “Let me look through these for a moment.”

You study him intently as he flips through the books faster than you can blink, fingers flying along the pages. The title on some of the books read ‘Legends of the Sea’, ‘Mythical Folk’ and such.

“The sea witch is a powerful entity who was once human with a bond to both the land and sea. She holds immense power, drawing upon the sea to cast spells. In return for a high price, she grants both magical and non magical folk alike what they desire.” Yeosang reads aloud, meticulously focusing on every detail. “Only people in great desperation can find the sea witch, as her lair lies hidden in a magical realm of the sea in which mortals cannot find. The entrance is rumoured to be off the coast of several uninhabited islands in the Atlantic, guarded by the sirens and fierce tidal straits rip through the waters, smashing any ship that dares pass through.”

“That’s… good to know.” You swallow uncomfortably. The only one who probably knows exactly who you are, and she’s probably out of reach. You’re unwilling to put the crew in danger because of your own problems.

“Those who have made a deal with the sea witch tend to have a token on which the deal was sealed.” Yeosang continues, glancing at the necklace hanging from your neck. “The price is often exorbitantly high, and is rarely something of material worth. It often is something of immense value to the person making the deal.”

Your memories.

You had given up your memories.

“In popular folk stories, she was responsible for taking the voice of a mermaid who’d fallen in love with a prince of the land in return for her legs. She also gives out pieces of ropes with three knots. Pulling the first knot could yield a gentle, southeasterly wind, while pulling two could generate a strong northerly wind, but the third knot would unleash a hurricane.” Yeosang looks slightly interested. “Hongjoong-hyung has one of these, but he’s used the first knot already.”

“Really?” You gape. This sea witch can’t be mere legend now.

The navigator nods as he picks up another book. “We were being chased by the Royal Navy, but he used the wind to blow the ships away. That’s when hyung really started to believe in myths a little.”

He opens a book called ‘Symbolism Through Ages’. “Jars of clay, jars of clay… Jars of clay refer to humans. In many books such as the Holy Bible, humans were described to be jars of clay, having mortal bodies while holding precious souls of great value in them.”

A jewel resting in a jar of clay.

Yeosang’s eyebrows pinch together as he continues reading. “This is a interesting explanation, but not rather helpful as it’s quite metaphorical. You said that the fortune teller asked you who’d made you?”

“Yeah…” You shiver a little at the words. “Then she told me the sea witch was my mistress.”

Yeosang frowns thoughtfully, and you can literally hear the gears in his mind turning. He picks up another book, flipping through it absentmindedly as he glances through it. “Made… Clay… Vessel… Humans… Sea Witch… Bargain...”

Then he stops.

All at once, his eyes fly wide open, pupils dilating in realization, mouth going slack, face ashen. The expression on his face can only be described in pure, unadulterated shock, and he stops breathing for a second as if air has trapped itself in his lungs.

Your heart skips a beat in excitement.

“Did you find something?” You begin to ask excitedly, but Yeosang barely seems to hear you, staring in horror at the page, then at you.

Unease begins to crawl up your skin, but you force it to the side and ask. “Yeosang-hyung… what is it?”

That seems to snap Yeosang out of his daze and he desperately tries to smooth his face in a neutral expression, but he can’t quite hide the terror in his eyes. “It’s nothing. I just thought of something, but it’s no big deal.”

The way his voice is trembling tells you it is anything but.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and barely restrained anger. “Yeosang-hyung, what are you hiding from me?”

“It’s nothing.” The navigator insists, slamming the book shut. You get a mere glimpse of the cover. Prome-, but then Yeosang’s hand slides over the title and you can’t see it any longer. “It’s nothing at all, so just let it go, please.”

Usually, you’d let anything he says go, but this is different.

“Then let me see it.” You hold your hand out to take the book, but Yeosang wrenches it from your grasp before you can even hold it, eyes flaring in panic.

“Don’t touch it!” Yeosang shouts furiously, clutching the book to his chest. Rage fills you, what may be an answer to your identity is right there, but Yeosang won’t give it to you. You storm over to him, ready to rip the book from his hands if you need to.

“What are you doing?” You snarl at him, almost animalistic as you reach to tear your only clue from him, but Yeosang shakes his head, arms folding around the book.

“You can’t see it!” He screams at you, tears streaming down his cheeks and you feel red hot anger thrumming in your veins, purring to life like an awakening monster. Icy calm washes over you, in complete contrast to the fury burning in your heart. How dare he cry as if he’s the one losing anything from this?

Yeosang must see the shift in your eyes as your expression settles into one of dark determination, because his knees start knocking uncontrollably and his eyes dilate with pure, undiluted and primal fear.

“Give the book to me, Yeosang.”

In this moment, Yeosang makes a decision.

His fingers fumble with the latch behind him. Before you can realise what he’s doing, he’s opened the pothole, turned away from you and tossed the book into the ocean.

You feel like your last hope has been crushed into shards and scattered to the wind. Broken fury and grief screams within you like two clashing hurricanes, tearing you apart and ripping through you. Your eyes land on Yeosang, who looks stunned by what he’s just done.

You finally manage to find words in your rage to convey to him what exactly you’re feeling now.

“I hate you.” You spit with every bit of loathing you can muster, and with that, you whirl around and dash out of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind you.

Yeosang doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely slides to the ground on his knees, body curled into a ball, wishing he could beg for your forgiveness.

And his fist pressed against his mouth to stifle the sobs pouring from his chest.

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt5

hi!! thank you so much for reading! again, i’m sorry for posting so much i just have a bunch of stuff pre-written and it’s fun to get it out there!

pt1

pt4

pt 6

“No one deserves to have their home destroyed, or have their family members ripped away from them! I saw what the Fire Nation did in my own city and countless others. The Fire Nation isn’t what I thought it was.” Her eyes welled with tears. “And neither are you.”

(Y/N) rested her chin on her hands as Appa flew over the land. It had been a few days since she had joined the Avatar and his friends, but already had she experienced way more than she ever would have in her life in the Fire Nation. Just the other day, they had saved an entire town from a volcano! She wasn’t a powerful enough bender to control lava, but she did help steer Appa so the sky bison could use his airbending to cool it down. She and the group decided that it was best if they saved her firebending for a rainy day. People in the towns that they were visiting weren’t too keen on having firebenders there.

From Appa, if she looked down, she could see dark spots across the green and yellow lands. Burned land. She had seen enough of it from her balcony of her mansion back in the Earth Kingdom. Her father had explained to her why their soldiers burned the peoples’ land. “Destroying what they need to survive keeps them in their place,” he had said. She remembered her stomach turning sour as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“For the longest time, I believed that what the Fire Nation was doing was good and necessary. I can’t believe I was so stupid.” 

“Yeah, people from the Fire Nation tend to be pretty dumb.” Sokka polished his boomerang. She turned around to glare at him. 

“You don’t get it. They don’t teach us in our schools that we’re burning down villages for the fun of it. They tell us that we’re only trying to help. They brainwash the kids into thinking that all we’re--all they are trying to do is make a better life for everyone.” 

“Just because you didn’t know what the Fire Nation was doing doesn’t excuse them for what they did,” Sokka shot back. She huffed, feeling her anger growing. 

“I never said that!” 

“Well you’re acting like it!” 

“I literally saved you from Fire Nation soldiers!” 

“Guys, can we please stop fighting?” Aang sighed. “It’s making Appa uncomfortable.” 

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want Appa to be uncomfortable, now would we?” Sokka scoffed. She chucked her pillow at him. 

“You’re the rudest person I’ve ever met! The Fire Nation as a whole does not represent who I am!” Huffing, she turned away from Sokka and tilted her chin up to the sky. 

It was nightfall before anyone talked again. Sokka was fast asleep toward the back of Appa’s saddle. Katara had crawled over to (Y/N), who sat sulking as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry for what Sokka said earlier,” She said, her blue eyes kind and soft. “We know the Fire Nation doesn’t define who you are as a person. It’s just really hard for Sokka and I to get comfortable with you being around. You see, Fire Nation soldiers raided our villages and killed our mother.” 

(Y/N) felt her anger slip away and be replaced with guilt. If she had known that, she wouldn’t have let herself become so quick to anger. Sokka was dealing with emotions that she couldn’t possibly understand. 

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” she said quietly. “I had no idea the Fire Nation had done that to you, truly. And if I could apologize on behalf of the entire nation, I would.” She sighed, pulling her legs close to her chest. “I’ve been around a lot of people who have done some very bad things, sometimes to the people I care about. I really cannot express how sorry I am, Katara.” 

The girl smiled, her blue eyes watery from holding back tears. “It’s okay. We’ll bring the Fire Nation to justice one day.” (Y/N) nodded in agreement. “Would you mind telling me how the Fire Nation has hurt you too? I think it might help me understand you a bit better.” 

She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, when I still lived on the Fire Nation mainland, there was a boy I really...liked. He was only fourteen, still just a kid, but he spoke up when he wasn’t supposed to. He was challenged to an Agni Kai, which is a traditional firebending duel. He went up against a person who was ten times stronger than him.” (Y/N) swallowed the sob in her throat that always formed when she thought of that day. “The whole point of the duel is that you win when you burn another opponent. He was burned very badly that day and was banished from the Fire Nation. I haven’t heard from him since.” 

“I’m really sorry,” Katara said, and (Y/N) shook her head. 

“Goodness, no, don’t even apologize. It’s nothing compared to what happened to you and Sokka. How about we get some sleep? I can’t imagine what tomorrow is gonna be like.” 

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

The next day had proved to be very troublesome for (Y/N). Their group had divided, with Sokka and Katara choosing to follow Bato to their father since Aang had hidden his coordinates from them. She understood where the young boy had been coming from: when she had first joined the group, she had definitely felt like an outsider, but things had slowly gotten better. It was unfortunate that Sokka and Katara had left them, but (Y/N) knew it was now her duty to get him to the Northern Water Tribe so he could continue his waterbending training. 

This plan went south as soon as the bounty hunter arrived. The beast she rode kicked up so much dust that it became hard for (Y/N) to see. She had lost sight of Aang and she knew he was in trouble, but the last thing she wanted was to blindly shoot fire and risk hurting someone. So instead, she stumbled through the dust until she could see properly. 

“Look out!” Was all she heard Sokka shout before he knocked her to the ground. She groaned as she fell, opening her eyes to see Sokka’s blue ones staring down at her. 

“What’d you do that for?” She grumbled, shoving him off of her.

“I saved you from a fire blast! A thank you would’ve been nice!” 

“I’m a firebender! I can handle a fire blast, you can’t!” She jumped to her feet, ready to defend her friends from the source of the blasts. 

What she expected to see through the dust was a bounty hunter or a Fire Nation soldier. Who she had not expected to see, however, was Prince Zuko. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her body. Seeing her old friend brought a flood of feelings back to her, but she tried her best to suppress them. She wanted to run into his arms and squeeze him into a hug. But then she pieced it all together. It was Zuko who had been hunting Aang. He was the one who raided Katara and Sokka’s village. A lot had changed since the two of them had last seen each other, that was obvious. 

It took Zuko a few seconds to recognize her. She was still in her Earth Kingdom clothes, as the disguise helped her travel between cities without being recognized. But he would recognize her (color) eyes anywhere. He stopped in his tracks; his arms lifted for another attack. 

“(Y/N)?” He asked. He glanced between her and the Avatar. 

In her fifteen years of life, not once had she firebended against Zuko. But she had a duty to her new friends and to the rest of the world. She ran at him, flipped forward, and kicked fire into his face. Zuko’s arms cut through her fire. He grunted angrily. 

“What are you doing?” He demanded. She didn’t answer. She shot fire at him again, but he dodged. 

“I won’t let you hurt him!” 

“Traitor!” Zuko roared, firing blasts back at her. She avoided them easily. She had always been praised for being light on her feet. Taking gymnastics with Ty Lee had allowed her to dance in between the flames. Zuko had only gotten better over the years. This would be a tough battle to beat. She kicked him in the stomach, knocking him off of his balance for a few moments. 

“You guys get out of here!” She shouted to her friends. “I’ll hold him off!” 

“We’re not leaving without you!” Katara shouted back. Zuko shot fire that missed her face by inches. 

“Go!” She shouted to them. She shot fire blasts from her firsts, driving Zuko away from her. She heard Appa fly away and in her heart, she hoped they would come back for her. She realized a moment too late that the bounty hunter’s beast had reached its tongue toward her. Paralyzed, she fell to the ground, knocking herself unconscious from the fall. 

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

She sat in the hold of the Fire Nation ship with her hands cuffed behind her back, preventing her from bending her way out. She had woken up in that dark room, with the only light being from the torches on the outside of the cell. It amused her a bit that she had been captured by the nation she once called home, but really, she had spent most of her time wondering when her friends would come for her. It would be incredibly dangerous for them to infiltrate a Fire Nation ship, especially Aang. He was the prize that Zuko wanted, after all. 

Speaking of Zuko, he had been sitting in front of the bars of her cell since she had woken up. They both had been silent. She wanted to speak to him, but she wasn’t sure what to say. It was obvious the Agni Kai had changed him for the worse. He had been absolutely ruthless when they were fighting in the village. It had taken everything in her to fight him off, but it obviously hadn’t been enough. 

The heavy metal door swung open and she looked up to see Iroh, Zuko’s uncle. She had always liked Iroh. He told her funny stories whenever he visited the royal palace. He had played Pai Sho with her on more than a few occasions. He was a kind man, who didn’t really fit in with his family at all. She sat up immediately, a bright smile on her face. 

“Iroh!” She said cheerfully. “It’s wonderful to see you.” 

“Zuko,” Iroh scolded. “What is our dear friend doing in a cell?” Zuko glared at her. 

“She’s with the Avatar now. She’s a traitor.” 

“Traitor is a harsh word, in my opinion,” She replied. “I think I like the word rebel more.” 

“Don’t get cheeky with me!” Zuko snapped. 

“Is this true, (Y/N)?” Iroh asked. She looked away from him and refused to answer. 

“Where did the Avatar go?” Zuko demanded. She scoffed. 

“As if I’d tell you.” 

“As your prince, I demand you to answer me!” 

“So, am I a traitor, or are you still my prince? My head is killing me, Zuko, I can’t really keep up right now.” Humor was how she was choosing to deal with the pain of seeing the disappointment in Zuko’s eyes. She knew she was doing it for the right reasons, but she had let him down. 

“You’re just as insufferable as you were when I left.” She felt the anger inside of her boiling. 

“I’m insufferable? Says the boy who is still serving a country that banished him.” 

“That’s why I need the Avatar, (Y/N)! So I can finally go home and restore my honor!” 

“We both know it’s not going to be good enough for him, Zuko.” 

He turned toward his uncle. “Leave us.” Silently, Iroh left, but not before flashing her a sad smile. “I can’t believe I thought that I would ask for your hand in marriage once I returned home.” 

She scoffed. “Were you planning on filling me in of that plan in one of the letters you wrote to me?” 

“Letters? I never--” 

“Exactly. Even if I had stayed with the Fire Nation, I wouldn’t have agreed to your proposal. You might’ve been banished, Zuko, but it’s not hard to send a messenger hawk.” 

“Is that why you became a traitor? Because I didn’t write to you?” 

“Zuko, I promise that not everything is about you. Have you seen what the Fire Nation is doing to people? To innocent people?” 

“It’s what they deserve!” 

“No one deserves to have their home destroyed, or have their family members ripped away from them! I saw what the Fire Nation did in my own city and countless others. The Fire Nation isn’t what I thought it was.” Her eyes welled with tears. “And neither are you.” 

Zuko stormed out after she said that. (Y/N) lay back down on the ground and cried quietly as she mourned over the friend she once knew. The old Zuko was long gone. 

---

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie 

Thanks so much for reading!! read part 6!!

[sansmania]

Why is thia going past 2 parts its gonna be 3 oh NO

Title: Your Man

Ship: Boss [ @bonelyheartsclub ]/ GN reader

Descrip: i got disctracted by the cAR DRIVE????? also cowboys apparently arent real

You were quick to get dressed in something decent- not wanting to push the tall skeleton's patience, but also knowing there was a standard he held when it came to appearances in public. By no means would he allow you to spend time in town with him wearing something lazy and frumpy- he wasn't like Sans or Stretch.

After a once over, you were pleased with your choice. Making sure the combat boots you picked out were tied right and scuff free, you hopped down the stairs and grabbed your go bag.

Boss had busied himself by fingering through your unused bookshelf and books, having picked some hardback out, eyelights skimming over the words in silence. He startled only slightly when your keys rattled, closing the book and placing it back where he'd taken it from with a click of his jaw.

"Hey, you're fine- didn't mean to spook you." You laughed as he made a sarcastic sound at the back of his throat.

"I am aware how ‘fine’ I am, but you did not 'spook' me." Your shit eating smile didn't go away at his retort, though the first bit caught you off guard. Boss was such a haughty bastard sometimes and it really got under your skin. You wondered if he was aware of that.

But, before you could think any harder, the skeleton headed towards your beat up front door.

"Now, are you ready to go? These sneakers are not comfortable. I am hoping this store you have found has others for me to choose from so I can throw these out."

"Come on, maybe if you'd coordinate with them, you could pull off neon orange Converse, Boss." He made a short gagging sound as you laughed, locking the door behind you. "Ah, well, I can dream, can't I?"

"Keep the dream to yourself then, human. Because you will never see me in detestable clothing like this ever again." Though, Boss didn't seem as unamused as you figured he would be at the suggestion, a slight curl to his mouth.

Out of sheer habit, you headed towards your car before Boss caught the collar of your shirt, pulling you away from it and across the street towards his own deep red convertible.

"Absolutely not. Put the location in the GPS. I am driving." There was no fight put up, to his demand. Boss's car was insanely nice- when you first saw it, you almost didn't want to touch it, let alone ride in it. But, it was his casual vehicle. He drove the damn thing everywhere and you were not going to complain about it today.

You both settled in and were off on your repairing adventure.

The top was cranked down, your hair whipping in the brisk wind, Boss had perched a pair of dark shades on his nasal ridge- probably held on by magic, you stopped asking to be honest- and had an arm perched on the door as he focused on the road and GPS feeding directions through the radio.

He wasn't one for music, loudly proclaiming his distaste of your taste in music after blaring "Two Trucks" as you were trapped in traffic one day. The look on his face was worth a lifetime ban of tunes on your drives, but you didn't mind the silence or small conversations you shared.

Yeah, Boss could be blunt and downright rude at times, but you found it added to his charm. You could always expect honesty to come from him no matter what you both talked about. He couldn't lie to save his life, anyway, and it was a feature of his that you appreciated dearly.

"Human, I am aware that it is very easy to get struck by my visage," Boss smirked folding up the sunglasses and placing them in the collar of his shirt, causing you to blink and blood rise to your face instantly. "But, I do believe we have made it to our destination."

How had the ride gone by so fast? Had Boss been speeding? Were you so lost in your enamored thoughts you had no sense of time? 

Both?

"Right." You cleared your throat with an awkward laugh, climbing out of the car alongside the tall skeleton. He seemed to be greatly amused at your embarrassment as the pair of you headed into the southern couture themed shop. 

The first thing that hit you about the place was the smell of leather and hardwood. The second thing was the twang of county music playing over the speakers.

"Heh, they really stick to the theme, huh?" You couldn't help the eye roll, but Boss said nothing. Oh, right. The skeletons hadn't been on the surface for long, so this may be a little much. 

"Bit of a culture shock, Bossman?"

"Hm?" He broke out of whatever train of thought had taken over, shaking his head when you'd elbowed his hip. "Oh, no. Though I am impressed by their dedication to the concept."

"Pft, concept? Boss, cowboys and the mid-west are real." Now that made him snort.

"Do not play coy with me, human. I believed Undyne once that anime was real, and I am a wiser skeleton today by not believing everything on television. Now, where do we drop these off?" He had managed to cut off any argument you had prepared with his question.

You wouldn't let it go, but made a noise and looked around, spotting a sign on the ceiling that directed them to "Ye ol' boot fixin'" desk in the back.

Before you had a chance to say anything, Boss followed the directions on the desk. 'Ring the dinner bell for assistance', tapping the loud triangle several times as a voice in the back called out.

"Hold your horses!"

"Technically I could hold a horse, but I would much rather get my boots repaired." Boss said dryly as the cobbler walked out of the back. He only reeled slightly at the sight of a seven foot tall skeleton at his desk, wiping his worn hands on the old apron tied to his waist.

"Well, I'll be. Ain't had any of your kind come by before. So, ya'll said boot repair? Came to the right place then; names Willie." He held his hand out with a wide smile, Boss was only slightly taken aback by the gesture, meeting in the middle with a firm handshake.

"You may call me Boss. Apologies if my appearance is in any way menacing, as I cannot change that." Willie just chuckled, stopping you from interrupting any spiel your neighbor was about to go into.

"No need to apologize. Now, where's these shoes that need repairin'?"

[arrow-guy]

The Lighthouse (10/??)

Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upside-down when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.

A/N: It feels to good to finally be back to this story. It’s been too long. that being said, here we are with chapter 10! Serious discussions and movement in the story lie ahead, so buckle up, lads. Hope you enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ThorxReader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Harsh language

part 9

“I agree with (Y/N),” Thor says.

Loki scowls. “Of course you’d agree with her. You’re in love with her.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I protest. “There’s been no talk of the ‘L’ word thus far in our relationship, don’t go putting words in his mouth!”

Thor glances up at me briefly but quickly focuses on his brother again. “I agree with her because she’s right. We stand a better chance of defeating him if we have support from the Avengers.”

“Thank you!” I cry. “At least someone in your family can see some kind of sense.”

“And you think it’s him?!” Loki hisses.

“I’m more inclined to think it’s him than you.” He scowls and I shake my head. “I mean, seriously. You, Thor, and I are no match for an intergalactic warlord!”

“She’s right, Loki,” Thor says. “You know this.”

“Fine,” Loki snaps. “Have it your way. Drag every single one of your little friends into this. Earth is doomed, regardless.”

“You don’t know that,” I say.

“I know what Thanos is capable of,” Loki says, his tone low and filled with dread. “I’ve been bent to his will and the instrument through which he exacted his first attack on your planet.”

"I'm not saying that working with the Avengers secures us the win. It just means that we'd have a fighting chance." Loki keeps his face carefully blank and I squint at him. “Unless you think that won’t be enough.”

“I know it won’t be enough,” he grinds out. “And I know this because there are three Infinity Stones on this planet, and Thanos won’t stop until he has all three of them.”

“Three?” Thor’s brow furrows. “I am only aware of two.”

“That’s because the last time you were on Earth there were only two.” He holds out his hand and a glowing blue cube materializes in his palm. “I possess the third.”

“And you couldn’t say something earlier?!” I hiss. “You’ve been talking us in circles when you had the answer up your sleeve the entire time.”

“You should’ve told us, brother,” Thor growls. “This isn’t the time for keeping secrets.”

“How am I to know?” Loki demands. “Your human has so much magic hidden inside of them, how can I assume that she has only the best intentions in mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“Don’t you?” Loki hisses. “You speak of performing spells that someone like you should have absolutely no access to as if you’re simply going for a stroll.”

“Wh-”

“Do you realize how much power is necessary to track something across the galaxy?” His eyes narrow and I try to shrink away from him. “There is something old and powerful within you that you’ve been tapping into. I’m surprised even Thor hasn’t noticed yet.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” I glance between Loki and Thor, confused. "Thor?"

Thor shakes his head. "True, she's powerful, but I don't know what you're talking about, brother."

Loki scowls. “Of course you don’t. I don’t know why I even bother asking.”

“If you know so much, why don’t you fix everything then, huh?” I demand. “Because all you’ve been this morning is contrary and argumentative.”

“Clearly I’m not capable of solving this problem on my own, or even with my brother added to the equation.”

“Then what’s your grand plan?”

“Your power, in your untrained state, is volatile. But,” he says. “I could teach you.”

“You mean use me and my magic as you see fit,” I correct.

“No, I simply mean that I could better help you to hone your skills than Heimdall can from where he is,” Loki explains. “I am more than talented enough to bring out your full potential.”

“That doesn’t sound much better than what I just said you’d do.” I scowl. “Besides, we wouldn’t have to worry about taking down a galactic super tyrant as a band of three if we just call the fucking Avengers.”

“Oh please, you’ll need to know either way.”

“Maybe. But I’m sure as hell not learning from you, and I’m definitely not having this argument.”

I push myself up from the kitchen table and hurry up the stairs to shut myself in my office. I sit down in my chair, sigh, and put my head down on my desk.

“Childish,” I mumble.

A quiet thump against the door draws my attention away from wallowing in self pity. When the sound doesn’t come again, I get up to investigate.

Upon opening the door, I find Charles sitting outside, patiently waiting for me to let him in. I gesture for him to come inside and he meows before trotting through the door. He hops up onto my chair and then my desk, where he curls up on his blanket under the desk lamp. Only when he’s settled am I reminded that I hid in my office to distract myself with work.

I open my laptop and check my email.

Someone knocks softly and cracks open the door.

“I’m working,” I say.

“It’s been hours, (Y/N).” I glance up and Thor slips into the room. “I brought you something to eat.”

“Oh.” He holds out a plate with a sandwich and carrot sticks on it and I take it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Thor scoops up Charles from the desk and takes a seat on the couch. I pick up a carrot and roll it between my thumb and index finger before taking a bite.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I say. ”I was out of line, storming off like that. I should’ve stuck around.”

“Maybe, but there are times when Loki ignores the comfort of others in favor of pushing on with his own plans. But being the loudest person in the room doesn’t make him right.”

I nod. “I just don’t want to set things back because of a stupid argument. There are more important things to deal with right now than my anxiety over learning to control my magic.”

“I’d say you’ve got a fine grasp on your magic, for now. We wouldn’t be anywhere near where we are, had you not worked so diligently with Heimdall to find Loki.”

“Recklessly, is more like it,” Heimdall says. “Though I cannot argue with his logic. You’ve made incredible progress in your skill in the time that I’ve been teaching you.”

“But should I take Loki up on his offer?” I ask, my voice small. “I saw what happened when he restored your memories. I’m not sure my body could handle that.”

“I’m sure it would be different, were he to teach you and not forcibly put the knowledge into your mind, but…” Thor shakes his head. “That’s not a choice that I can make for you.”

“I know.” I pick at the sandwich. “I still think we should contact your team. Even if Loki’s right, and they aren’t enough, they’re bound to know more people that can help.”

“Then we’ll call them.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“What about Loki?”

“Loki doesn’t know everything, and I am well aware that I’ll never be able to convince him otherwise. But we don’t need to halt our progress simply because he disagrees with your plan.”

“Thing is, it’d be really nice if it weren’t just my plan.”

“It’s not. I have your back on this.”

I nod. “How do we contact them, though? It’s not like I can just google their phone number.”

“There’s no need.”

“Huh?”

“I memorized Stark’s number years ago.”

“You… memorized Tony Stark’s personal phone number?”

“I did. With the way he flits from one thing to another, he is not an easy man to keep track of. Most of the team either memorized his number or stuck to him like glue.”

I laugh. “I see.”

He smiles. “You should eat. We’ll call after.”

With my meal finished, Thor and I situate ourselves on the floor in the middle of my office. Charles climbs all over our laps and I have to push his face away from my phone several times.

“You’re sure this is the right number?”

“I’m certain.”

“Okay.” I dial the number, put the phone on speaker, and hold it away from me. “What if he doesn’t answer?”

“He will, (Y/N). It’s not as if it’s easy to find this number.”

“Okay.” I bite my thumb, unsure of what to do with myself. "What am I supposed to say?"

"Explain the situation. We know Thanos is close and that Banner is Earth-side." He tries to reassure me with a smile. "You can do this. I promise."

The phone suddenly stops ringing and my eyes snap to Thors. He nods once and I focus in on the phone.

“How did you get this number.” It’s not a question.

“Tony Stark, right?” I ask.

“If you know enough to ask, then you know you’ve got the right number. Now, how’d you find it?”

“Thor gave it to me.”

“Bullshit.”

“Considering he’s sitting directly across from me right now, I’m gonna say it’s really not.”

"Still don't believe you."

"Well, I could always hand the phone off…" I catch Thor shaking his head. "I'm getting a firm no from the big guy, so I'm gonna say he wants me to do most of the talking."

"Convenient."

“Yeah, extremely. Listen, you can hang up on me, but at least hear me out. I wouldn’t even think about calling you or anyone on your team if it weren’t a life or death situation.”

He sighs. “Fine. If I don’t like what I hear, I’m hanging up.”

“I can’t promise you’ll like it.”

“Just talk.”

I take a deep breath and start talking.

“A few months ago, Thor crash landed in the forest just outside of town. No memory of what happened to get him there or anything like that. I helped him find Loki, who restored his memory, we found out that Asgard was destroyed and then the ship they were on was attacked by a galactic tyrant named Thanos, who’s on his way to Earth as we speak.” I pause a moment to take a breath. “But you knew that last bit already.”

“How would you know?”

“Because Dr. Banner’s back on Earth.”

“... Yes he is. Crashed into some wizard's place on Bleeker Street.”

I frown and glance up at Thor. “Wizard?”

Thor leans forward. “Stark, you said a wizard on Bleeker Street?”

“That you, Hammer Time?‘

“Yes, it’s me. You said a wizard on Bleeker Street. Do you mean Doctor Strange?”

“Have you two met?”

“Yes, actually. Last time I was in New York.”

“Really wish you’d given us a call, pal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time, but right now we have bigger things to worry about.”

“Right, another alien invasion. What do they want this time?”

“The infinity stones,” Thor answers. “I’ve no clue how many he’s managed to gather as of now, but there are three on Earth as we speak.”

“Three?”

“One is with Strange, one with Vision, and the third is here, with Loki.”

“Thanos is coming here because we’ve got half of what he needs,” I interject. “If we can figure out a way to protect the stones here or use them against him, we’ll be better off in the long run.”

“And where do you play into this?” Stark asks.

“I just want to help. I can’t fight, but I can use magic. I’ll do whatever I can do make sure we win.”

“You really dig deep into that ‘we’ thing. We haven’t even met yet.”

“I trust her,” Thor says. “She’s powerful, and more than that, she’s reliable.”

“And what about Loki?”

“He’ll see reason, in the end.” Thor nods resolutely. “I’ll see to it that he does.”

“Good. I’ll fill the team in and send a Quin out to pick you three up. Be ready to leave early tomorrow.” He pauses. “Where exactly are you?”

“You’re the one with the fancy computers,” I say. “I’m sure you’re more than capable of tracing the call.”

Stark laughs. “You’re right. I started looking before I even picked up.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“What’s your name, mystery girl?”

“(Y/N).”

“Alright, (Y/N). I look forward to meeting you.”

“You too.”

The line goes dead and I drop the phone to the carpet before scrubbing my hands over my face.

“That went much better than I expected it would,” Thor admits.

“I never wanna do that ever again.” I laugh a little hysterically. “I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest.”

“I promise, he’s a kind man. He is, however…”

“A little paranoid?” Thor nods. “I can’t say I blame him.”

“Are you sure that you want to go with us?”

“Of course. I can’t let you guys cowboy around on your own, especially knowing your team’s past with Loki.”

“I only worry that you may not be safe.”

“I know, but I’ll be able to protect myself, to some extent, and I’m going to work on my magic so that I’ll be stronger before we have to fight. But, until then,” I push myself to my feet. “I need to apologize to your brother.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I figure I should be in good standing with someone before I ask them to teach me something.”

“You’re going to accept his offer?”

“I am. I have conditions, but we don’t have the luxury to wait for Heimdall now.” I cast my eyes upwards. “Absolutely no offense to you, we’re just pressed for time.”

“None taken. (Y/N). As it stands, I’m afraid we’ve most likely exhausted our resources.”

“Duly noted.” I reach out to Thor and he takes my hand. “Things’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I know.” He kisses my knuckles. “But that doesn’t mean that I fully trust Loki.”

“Don’t have to trust him to benefit from his knowledge.”

At that, Thor laughs. "I suppose you're right."

"Would you think of dinner ideas while I talk to him?”

Thor nods and gently pushes me towards the door before getting to his feet. Charles follows us out into the hall and takes off down the stairs. Thor finds Daisy when we reach the ground floor and takes her outside to play. I find Loki in the living room, reading a book on the couch. Charles has situated himself in the recliner across the room and is glaring at Loki, tail swishing.

“You should make an effort to tame your beasts,” Loki says, calmly turning the page in his book.

“Oh really, you’re worried about a little house cat?”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t like you much, either, so I can’t really blame him.”

He closes the book and sets it to the side. “What is it that you want?”

“I want to apologize for the way I acted earlier.”

“Why?”

“Because I was harsh and abrupt, and I figure it’s better to apologize before I ask you to teach me than after.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“The Avengers are sending a jet to pick us up tomorrow. All of us need to be ready for what’s coming, and Heimdall won’t be able to make it before Thanos does.”

He grins and leans forward on his knees, clearly enjoying this. “So what you’re saying is… you need my help.”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

He sighs and leans against the back of the couch, examining his nails. “It’s alright to admit you were wrong, you know.”

“I literally just did. I’m saying that I need your help to fully understand my magic.”

“Now,” he rises to his feet and quickly approaches me. “Was that so hard?”

I roll my eyes and walk off to the back door. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alright, so we’re headed directly towards a confrontation with Thanos. More than a little stressful to think about, if I’m being honest. Learning from Loki won’t be any treat either, I’m sure.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! How do you feel about Loki’s place with the reader and Thor? What do you think will happen next? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @silas-aeiou, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @idalinette, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @tomorraw, @feelmyroarrrr, @thisismysecrethappyplace, @princess-unicorn124, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @avengerscompound

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[crystalessenceswrites]

Burden of the Survivors-- Chapter One

*not my gif*

Burden of the Survivors

Pairs: Din Djarin x fem!reader Rating: T (at the moment- subject to change) Warnings: a little bit of cursing but otherwise fairly tame *no spoilers- takes place in Season 1 timeline* Summary: Mando works alone- except for when he absolutely can’t. There are few people Din trusts – trusts as in he doesn’t expect a viroblade in the back the second he’s turned around. She’s one of them. Just as cautious and nearly as tight lipped about her past as he is, Din doesn’t mind her around too much.

[Masterlist] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] or Available on AO3

A/N: It’s been ages since I wrote a reader series, I do my best to write them with as non-descriptive reader as possible but if there’s something I miss let me know. Reader does have a backstory and obviously has certain skills sets as a bounty hunter but I don’t believe that will cause any issues going forward. Also thanks to @fishingwithstring​ & @flyingmarshmallow64​ for kinda beta-ing for me

Chapter One--

When you had given the Mandalorian your commlink info you had not thought the stoic man would actually use it. He had a reputation to uphold after all- he couldn’t be seen willingly working with another bounty hunter. You could respect that; the Guild was cutthroat and there never seemed to be enough credits or jobs to go around these days. The New Republic was a blessing and a curse to those trying to make a living in the Outer Rim. Your regular contacts were coming up short on good jobs and everything Karga was offering wasn’t worth the cost of fuel. It all had you wondering if you should take up running with Tillis’s crew again, the cuts were always fair and at least you weren’t burning credits on your own fuel.

Yet despite your initial beliefs, Mando had called, and he’d called with an offer for a job. They were high rollers from the underworld, apparently. Nothing you had not worked before. The first job you had worked with Mando on had been an under the table job from Karga as well. You allowed yourself the slightest bit of pride that after how well you two had worked together, Mando felt you would be a useful addition on this job.

You jumped on the offer. Whatever job Mando had taken had to be worth a decent stack of credits if he was willing to go with an even split. Hopefully, this would be enough to hold you over for a while, maybe pay for a few fixes to your ship while you were at it. The navicomputer could use an update, and there was the leak in the cooling lines that could probably use a proper fix instead of your last patch job… but you were getting ahead of yourself. Mando had asked you to meet him at his ship just outside of town on Navarro, which was convenient considering you had been laying over on the backwater volcanic planet after your last round of bounties. Karga may be cagey but at least he paid you what you were owed in the end.

Mando was waiting for you, leaning against the side of the Razor Crest, looking as much the stoic and hardened warrior as ever when you arrived. Though he had upgraded a bit since you last saw him.

“Looking spiffy Mando! Is that a new pauldron I see?”

He shrugs, pushing off the Razor Crest, “maybe.”

Man of few words, some things never change.

“You mentioned before that we didn’t have much to go off of. What do you know?” Hitching your bag of gear up your shoulder you follow Mando up into the Crest.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been on Mando’s ship, but it amazed you every time you boarded how he managed to keep such a relic up and running. You would not be surprised if it cost him a fortune in repair costs over the years. Sure, your ship wasn’t a spring chicken either, but it had been built within your lifetime.

“Tracking fob.” He quickly fishes the device out of his belt, flashing it at you briefly. “Last known position and age.”

“Wait, not even a chain code?” That was just common courtesy in this line of work, and it kept mix-ups to a minimum. “Just the last four digits?”

Mando nods before clambering up the ladder to the cockpit leaving you stunned. Who exactly were you working for and who were they after?

After ditching your bag in the hull you follow Mando up to the cockpit. “How trustworthy is this client of yours?”

You lean against the doorway, watching him program the ancient navicomputer. “It’s underworld, what do you expect?”

“At least some minimal assurances,” you throw back, “I don’t want to end up a prisoner of the New Republic for the rest of my days if I can’t help it.”

“The chit came through Karga.”

Well, that was the definition of minimally reassuring.

“But no puck?”

Mando shakes his head, or rather, his bucket.

“Well, this will be interesting.”

.

“Arvala-7, can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.” You’re sitting in the co-pilots chair with your boots propped up against the dash, fiddling with one your rifle sights as Mando attempts to pull planetary info up on his navicomputer.

Your partners huff of displeasure filters through his modulator, you can imagine he’s rolling his eyes behind the visor. Over the course of working together you had managed to pick up on a handful of the man’s cues, his body language was fairly expressive, and irritation with you was one you were aptly familiar with. It had been obvious from your first meeting that the Mandalorian was all work and no play. So, your occasional flippant remarks were not always received well. You were by no means trying to agitate the bounty hunter- you had better self-preservation skills than that- but you were trying to lighten the mood a bit. Two sticks in the mud didn’t make for an entertaining partnership.

Even after a few smacks to the computer Mando cannot seem to pull up the data he wants. His fists clench and unclench rhythmically, the creak of his leather gloves filling the silent cockpit. This one was wound way too tight. You wondered what mandalorians did to relax and unwind, and how exactly could you get him to do that before you landed?

“You’ve got the tracking fob, we aren’t completely screwed, if that’s what you’re all upset about, Mando.”

The helmet snaps around, his black t-visor staring unblinking into your soul.

Maybe that was not the best button to push.

“I’ll- ah, go get my stuff together.” You wince at the crack in your voice but gather up your blaster parts before preparing to shimmy back down into the cargo hold. You were a bounty hunter, same as him. His attitude should not unnerve you like it did. He was human like you after all- or at least you assumed he was- one faceless man should not affect you so strongly. You were better than this.

Master trained you better than this.

“Coming into atmo,” Mando shouts down from the cockpit, “may want to hold onto something.”

The ship lurches forward, throwing you into the back wall. “Thanks for the warning,” you grumble, latching onto the refresher door to stay upright.

Mando comes in quick, the Razor Crest touching down shortly after entering the atmosphere. Moments later the helmeted man is down the ladder, amban sniper rifle in hand and already heading down the ramp. Always in such a rush. The Mandalorian really had no clue as to how to stop and assess a situation or take a moment to breathe.

You scramble over to your bag of gear, assembling one of your own blaster rifles without having to look. It was all second nature now; you know every weapon in your stash like the back of your hand. As you slide the newly fixed sight into place a roar echoes through the ship followed by a loud curse. Down the ramp in seconds your blaster is trained on the approaching creature, ignoring Mando with his arm trapped in the jaw of another felled creature.

The tadpole-shaped beast falls before you pull the trigger, sliding in next to Mando with a bright red electro stun dart sticking out of its side. You let out a sigh as Mando groans, freeing his arm. At least your partner in crime was not out for the count yet.

A third creature approaches, this one saddled and ridden by an aging ugnaught wielding what you can assume was responsible for the stun darts. You lower your blaster, hoping that there would be no quarrel after he seemingly saved Mando.

“Thank you.” Mando’s panting as he stands, his arm clutched tight to his chest.

The ugnaught nods before looking back between you two. “You are bounty hunters.”

“Yes.”

“I will help you.”

You shrug at Mando, if he wanted to assist you with this odd bounty you had qualms.

“I have spoken.”

.

Kuiil had been more than accommodating to you both at his moisture farm. Offering up his bed to you for the night and sharing his dinner and a warm cup of tea with you both after the sunlight finally fell below the horizon. You jumped at the offer for any food that was not freeze-dried rations or protein bars. Mando on the other hand stiffened when the ugnaught passed him the meal.

“You can use the bedroom to eat, Mando.”

This was not the first time you had run into this problem while working with the Mandalorian. He never took the helmet off around you, not even in the safety of his ship, not to stop and eat while you were drifting along in hyperspace, or to fix up wounds after a particularly nasty fight with a quarry. You wondered if he even took it off to sleep when you were on board with him.

It was not as if you did not understand the draw of a helmet. The lifestyle of the faceless. You own tactical mask offers a small sense of anonymity, bringing some comfort after years of running from your past, but you were not unnaturally attached to it. Whatever tentative relationship you had with Mando; you were comfortable enough to take it off around him. You could eat in his presence. The mask did not inhibit your job or your lifestyle. While it had been ages since you had been in contact with mandalorians-other than the faceless and nameless Mando- you did have shadowy memories of those you had met taking off their helmets in the presence of others. Not that you had dared to ask about it. Your first few meetings had been tense enough and you liked to think you were smart enough to not insult the beskar clad warrior who walked around armed to the teeth.

Kuiil did not ask until Mando had settled into the other room. “He does not remove his helmet in the presence of others?”

“For as long as I’ve known him,” you nod.

“And how long have you known him?”

That was a good question. How many years had it been since you worked that job with Tillis’s crew that introduced you two?

“Four standard years now, maybe?” You ponder, “but we’ve only been working together for about two.”

He nods, looking thoughtful, “like a Mandalorian warrior of old.”

“I suppose,” you shrug.

“You do not agree with his choice?”

“Oh no, my opinions have nothing to do with it. Can’t say it appeals to me, but I respect the restraint it would take to wear a helmet all of your life.”

Kuiil nods before pottering off, cleaning up his small cooking station. You cannot help but smile, the ugnaught reminds you of someone but you cannot recall exactly who. They are just echoes of memories now, a childhood long gone, but something about Kuiil’s wise demeanor picks at them.

Mando returns moments later, shaking you from your melancholy as he takes a seat next to you.

“Many have passed through. They seek the same one as you.”

What kind of job exactly had Mando gotten for you two?

“Did you help them?”

“Yes. They died.”

You gape at the ugnaught, unsure if his honesty was all that helpful now.

“Well then I don’t know if I want your help,” Mando scoffs.

Kuiil shakes his head, “you do. I can show you to the encampment.”

“Encampment?” Who in the galaxy would have an encampment all the way out here and how to Kuiil know about it?

He nods but divulges no further details.

“What’s your cut?”

“Half.”

Your head whips around, Mando had promised you half the cut already, that is why you had agreed to come in the first place.

“Half the bounty to guide? Seems steep.”

“No. Half the blurrg you helped capture.”

You left out the breath you did not realize you had been holding, gaze softening. The blurrg would not be an issue. “I can assure you Mando has no use for a blurrg.”

The helmet nods, “you can keep them both.”

“No. You need them. To ride. The way is impossible to pass without a blurrg mount.”

Mando sounds unconvinced, “I don’t know how to ride blurrg.”

“I have spoken.”

You did not happen to know how to ride a blurrg either, but you decided it would be best for everyone’s health to not mention it as the Mandalorian struggled the next morning to even stay on the creature. Mando had insisted on letting you attempt to ride first. Kuiil had kindly walked you through how to greet the beast and the best way to mount. You had struggled a bit, the tallest point on the blurrg’s back was nearly a head taller than you and required some interesting moves to get to but after some coaching you finally managed to get the hang of it. It was smooth sailing from there. They reacted to the reins about the same as most other animals and their walking rhythm was not too difficult to adjust to. After Kuiil seems satisfied with your progress and let Mando into the ring you thought maybe this job would not be all that bad.

Yet as you watched Mando fly off the blurrg’s back for the umpteenth you decided you had called that much too soon. For a man who always walked with such swagger you did allow yourself to enjoy the scene. Just a little.

Even the patient Kuiil was becoming frustrated with Mando’s slow learning curve.

“Perhaps if you removed your helmet.”

That would never happen.

Mando’s shoulders stiffen, “perhaps he remembers I tried to roast him.”

Kuiil shakes his head, “this is a female. The males are all eaten during mating.”

You try, you really do, but all your willpower combined at the moment is not enough to contain the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. “Ha! They’ve got the right idea.”

Mando’s helmet tilts back just a fraction. He’s rolling his eyes at you.

Kuiil chuckles softly at your side while you stick your tongue out at the bounty hunter. He blatantly ignores you, going in for another attempt at the blurrg. It ends the same of the others, Mando flat on his back in the dust.

You understand he’s frustrated, Mando’s never been the patient type, and just wants to complete the job and get back to working alone. A wound up, frustrated Mandalorian was never a good combo. Your hand hovers over the blaster in your thigh holster as he stalks towards Kuiil, just in case.

“I don’t have time for this,” he snaps at the ugnaught. “Do you have a landspeeder or speeder bike that I could hire?”

“You are a Mandalorian! Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur. Surely you can ride this young foal.”

Kuiil’s jab at his ancestry is enough to get Mando to try again. You look on as he approaches the blurrg, arms outstretched, murmuring calming words as he goes to pat the creature between its eyes. You would almost describe the scene as gentle. Not a word you’d have ever used to describe the helmeted man in the past. Where had this Mando been hiding all this time?

.

When you spot the compound in the distance the worries begin to creep up again. You wonder who exactly you were after and what Karga’s underground client wanted with them. People don’t just build fortified compounds on backwater, nearly uninhabited outer rim planets for no reason.

Kuiil points to the structure as the three of you come to a stop, “that is where you’ll find your quarry.”

Mando attempts to give Kuiil a pouch of credits. It was the least he deserved for all the help he’d given you. The ugnaught turns it down.

“Please. You deserve this.”

“Since these ones arrived, this territory has been an endless stream of mercenaries seeking reward and bringing destruction.”

“Then why did you guide us here?” you ask.

“They do not belong here. Those that live here come to seek peace. There will be no peace until they are gone.”

Mando turns to Kuiil, “then why do you help?”

“I have never met a Mandalorian. I’ve only read the stories. If they are true, you two will make quick work of it. Then there will be peace again.” The ugnaught guides his blurrg around, ready to make the return trip, “I have spoken.”

You and Mando sat for a moment, watching him ride away in silence.

For peace then.

[introverted-explorer]

Will You Marry Me (For Financial Aid)

Summary:

The fake dating/real feelings college au no one asked for. Based on that text exchange between two friends in college wanting a better FAFSA Application.

Notes: Major credit to  @labelma (AKA Leilah) for betaing this and for encouraging me to post it.

I wrote this about a year ago and got distracted by life. Decided I would put it out into the world for other people to enjoy as a little birthday present for myself, enjoy!

David - italicized Patrick - bold Stevie - both 

You wouldn’t expect David Rose to be friends with someone like Patrick Brewer. Not only was he a business major, but also a huge sports fan and equally versed in the arts, which David certainly didn’t mind. Patrick was liked by everyone he met and no one really understood how he could be friends with someone as abrasive and standoffish as David. And somehow they were best friends. 

Stevie simultaneously regrets, is overly enthused, and is extremely amused by their friendship and takes full credit for the dynamic of their tiny but mighty friend group. She and David had met during orientation their freshman year of college, bonding over their shared disdain for their overly peppy orientation leaders. They quickly became inseparable, spending the majority of their down time together. A few weeks into school Stevie showed up with this average looking guy she had met in her Intro to Business course to their weekly dinner. Patrick had woven his way into their little duo with a few little teasing jabs at David to which David made complaints of an ‘unbalanced social dynamic’ but loved nonetheless.  

Nothing has really changed after two years of friendship. They would do pretty much everything together; homework, meals, vacations (thanks to David’s parents), you name it, they were probably doing it together. Even a few classes, obviously with a lot of pushing on Stevie and Patrick’s end and reluctance on David’s. David mostly stuck to his art classes but was convinced that a few business classes would help if he ever wanted to manage a gallery, good business acumen ran in the family after all. 

David came from money, but that money was almost never of conversation and often forgotten all together. It only came up when he casually name dropped or mentioned his designer and high end products. That was until they lost it all. Thankfully school and his apartment were already paid for through the year but it left David questioning his very near future plans. He worried if he would be able to finish out his schooling and where he would live once school was over. By some small miracle, his parents and younger sister found themselves moved to a town that they had bought as a joke at the pinnacle of his family’s financial success. Even better was the fact they were now living in the motel that Stevie’s family owned. 

After a long night of anxiety and research on financial aid for the next year, he discovered there were certain situations in which he could receive more aid. David never had to worry about filling out a FAFSA application when he still had money, it was never an issue if he received aid or not, but now it was the most important thing for his life to stay somewhat stable. His anxiety got the better of him and decided to decompress with the little bit of the weed he had left. 

Once he got a nice buzz going, he grabbed his phone to come up with a plan to get some of that aid. His finger hovered over his conversations with Patrick and Stevie. He thought Stevie would go along with his plan but would ridicule him to no end and decided that Patrick was probably the safer bet in this particular scenario. 

Hi

Can you marry me? 

The rational part of his brain told him Patrick was likely at one of his many clubs or doing homework or maybe even doing something only good people do. But the rational part of his brain was not steering the ship. The part in control kept yelling at him that Patrick was mad at him for coming on like that and he had ruined the friendship with just four words. 

I just looked at the financial aid website and it said I cannot get any aid except for unsubsidized loans unless I have a child, get married or turn 24, so I have to get married 

It didn’t take long for Patrick to respond. He would do pretty much anything for his friends and it’s not like it was actually a real marriage and could benefit himself. 

                       Yeah, okay. I’ll marry you. I need a better fafsa application too

That certainly wasn’t the response David had expected and certainly not that fast. David was used to people letting him down even though Patrick, and more often than not Stevie, had proven that people won’t always do that. 

Wait. Seriously?

Would you really do it?

I’m going to do actual research on this.

‘After I sober’ up David said to his phone after he sent that final text. 

Are we doing this?

It would have to happen like lightning fast. I’ve never had to do one of those applications aren’t they due soon?

Patrick knew David was likely either high or drunk, he hadn’t been dealing with the complete upheaval of his life all that well, and figured he would do all of the specific research as he enjoyed it and was painfully aware of the application and financial aid process. He felt the tiniest bit of disbelief pass through his brain as he started looking into this particular part of the process. Whether this was the idea of marrying David or marrying David to benefit their financial aid packages. He never really thought of his best friend like that before but it felt like a tiny part of his brain was saying this was a good thing. He shut that voice down and focused on his research instead. 

                                                                                                                  Okay.

 We’d need to get a marriage license which can be up to $300 depending on where we get it, and then we need to file for a marriage certificate. 

I’m an ordained  minister but idk if I could file my own marriage certificate

During all of the craziness that had been the last hour and asking Patrick to marry him, he totally forgot that Stevie was coming over. 

“David?” she called out opening the door and approached his bedroom.

“You smoked without me? You suck.”

David stilled. He had his phone still in his hand and a small smile on his face. As soon as he saw Stevie in the doorway his smile twisted to the side of his face. 

“David.”

“Stevie.”

“You never smile like that. What bit of celebrity gossip are you hiding on your phone?” She asked, grabbing the phone from his hands with little protest as David’s reaction time was slowed by his now depleting high. 

“What is this?” She paused to read the conversation. “You’re marrying Patrick? And for financial aid? I don’t know if I should be offended you didn’t ask me or not.”

“I thought about it! I thought you would make fun of me for it. I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine. I’m ordained by the way.”

David gave her a confused look questioning her random fact.

“I was bored in high school one day and did it online after I finished the assignment we were doing. It took like 15 minutes and now I can marry people.” She shrugged it off as if it were nothing. 

“And you’re telling me this because..” David trailed off trying to follow the conversation. 

“Because I can marry you and Patrick if you need me to.”

Finally David was caught up on the conversation. He took his phone back from Stevie wanting to tell Patrick. He couldn’t help the smile that came back on his face as hard as he tried to hide it. 

Stevie’s ordained and said she can marry us. So one problem down!

“I like this for you.” 

“Like what? There’s nothing to like!” David shrieked. 

David went back to his laptop to do further research into the actual benefits of marrying Patrick. Stevie nodded and pulled out her own phone. She figured if David was going to be preoccupied she could at least have some fun. 

So I hear you’re going to marry David?

                                                                                         And you’re officiating?

You’re not mad he asked me and not you right? I don't want this to put a strain on our friendship. 

Stevie laughed. She had secretly hoped they would end up together. She loved David but she couldn’t ever marry him, not even a staged marriage. 

I may have offered my services, yes. 

And absolutely not. He’s all yours.

The extra financial aid would have been nice but I could never marry David.

                                                                                                         Fake marry.

Okay, fine. Fake marry. Either way I am NOT interested. 

She looked back up to see David’s face now buried in his phone. He had to be texting Patrick.

It’s possible that I can get fafsa to pay for an entire apartment!

Where you would live with me obviously

David stopped and looked up at Stevie nervously. 

“I think I just asked Patrick to move in with me.”

I mean only if you want. You have no obligations to do that. 

You probably don’t. I mean bringing home a girl would be weird or whatever. 

Patrick had left his phone playing music on the counter as he made himself dinner. He didn’t think to check it until he was back in front of his computer with his dinner. He opened his messages to see four new messages from David. 

He can’t say he’s not surprised to see David spiraling after those first two messages. He still never understood why David thought Patrick would reject him as he had never shown signs of that during their friendship. He felt a certain sadness for his best friend. 

                                                                                 Of course I’d live with you. 

The thought of living with David didn’t scare him as much as it should. He knows David is high maintenance. He’s shared spaces with him during vacations. It’s not really something that bothers him. If anything he finds David endearing, especially when he’s a little frazzled making this encounter all the more fun. 

                      Think they would go for a nice little two bedroom apartment?

The relief David feels seeing that first response doesn’t last long. He doesn’t know why he feels a sense of sadness when Patrick mentions a two bedroom. They’re friends. A couple of bros getting married. Just for financial aid purposes. 

Do you think we could convince them for two baths? I’ve shared a bathroom with you. You don’t have much but what you do is wildly incorrect and I’d rather not ruin our friendship with that. 

Marriage is a compromise David. You’ll just have to deal with my incorrect bathroom products. 

We’re really doing this. 

                                                                                                            Yes we are. 

        Can we talk more about this tomorrow? I need to get some work done tonight. 

We can talk about this whenever you want.

Just

Preferably not before 10 AM. 

             Never. I know you David. Lunch after my class tomorrow? Just us?

Stevie hates that we’re ditching her. 

But, yes. Lunch sounds great. 

“So you’re marrying Patrick and ditching me to go on dates with him?” Stevie remarked after reading their exchange. 

David seemed shocked but hummed shaking his head in some sort of hybrid of no and yes. He stood up and shook his arms out. Stevie knew he was getting flustered proving that this might just be more than just an easy way to get some help with tuition. 

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different:  Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It. 

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually  seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

·       Never trust an outsider

·       Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

·       And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan.   Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush.   Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.

 That is until I meet Cooper...

 Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.

 Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other.  Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

[a-dorin]

vulnerability - kylo ren

word count: 3,560

warnings: sexual tension, some cursing, use of guns/blasters, some innuendos, emotional trauma

hellloooooo! this is the second part of the little miniseries i have been working on! if there are any small mistakes in my terminology, i apologize! i am still getting familiar wit the star wars universe! please read the meeting before you read this one, as this is the second installment! 

first meeting - kylo ren

you sat up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. your head throbbed slightly, which you assumed was from the lack of sleep. since you went to sleep so late and had to wake so early, your routine sleep schedule was thrown off. typically, you went to bed after midnight, and woke up late in the morning. it was early, as there was barely any light at all. swinging your legs to the edge of the bed, you got up, your vision slightly blurry. blearily, you found a light source, flicking it on.

there was a wardrobe to the right of the bed, which you assumed would have some sort of clothing for you to wear. surely kylo ren provided you with some robes. if not, you were screwed. you also hoped that there was a refresher attached to the quarters. dirt, sweat, and other grime covered your skin. you yearned to feel the hot water against your skin, washing away all that tainted your appearance. 

opening the doors of the wardrobe, you let out a gasp at the sight in front of you. inside, there were luxurious robes and garments, fabrics ranging from cotton to silk. you swallowed, surprised at how beautiful the clothing was. however, there was a silk black robe you were drawn to, adorned with red designs stitched into the hems. it was absolutely stunning. 

with the robe on your arm, you located the refresher. inside, there was a sonic shower, a rod for hanging clothes and a lavatory. you slipped out of your dirty clothes, discarding them to the floor. stepping into the sonic, you ensured that the water was hot. after bathing for several minutes, you remembered that you were meeting kylo ren for a meal. he was definitely a man who did not tolerate those who were late. 

after drying off with a towel, you put the robe on. with the bandeau you were wearing, the silk of the robe made your breasts look fuller. you felt a small smile form on your lips as you admired your appearance in a mirror. the robe provided you with a more regal appearance, almost one of a princess or queen. you let your hair hang loose on your shoulders. it suited the look. 

once you were finished getting ready, you slipped out the door of your quarters, careful not to wake jet. your droid was still sound asleep, recharging. light was beginning to fill the ship as you made your way to the dining hall. at this time, it was dead quiet. it was eerie yet peaceful at the same time. no wonder kylo ate so early. the quiet was nice. 

you entered the dining hall, kylo sitting at a table, his mask sitting beside him. he raised his brow when you sat across from him, taking a sip of water. 

“how did you sleep?” you widened your eyes. his voice was still thick with exhaustion, which made his voice an octave deeper. it was extremely attractive. 

“i slept well,” you picked at the eggs in front of you, “how about you?” 

kylo froze, his jaw clenching, “i didn’t sleep much.”

“why not?” you inquired, playing with your food. 

“do you think the supreme leader of the first order has time to sleep? who else is going to send out orders? who else is going to carry out the missions, the plans? my work as the supreme leader is extremely demanding. i would fucking appreciate it if you didn’t have that tone with me either,” kylo snarled, his voice raised. 

“i didn’t mean to-” you began, fear consuming your thoughts.

“bullshit,” kylo’s eyes were dark, “you’re a naive girl, (y/n). you’re lucky. i could kill you for acting this way in front of me.” 

you flinched, tears filling your eyes. you had no idea where this side of kylo was coming from. once kylo realized you were frozen with horror, the darkness left his eyes. he sighed, taking in a deep breath. you cried silently, the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“i apologize for what just happened,” kylo glanced at the table, “i’ll call for yw-382 and yo-988 to escort you back to your quarters.” 

“you relieved them from their duties, remember?” your voice was soft. you locked eyes with kylo, and his tough exterior cracked. 

“i’ll escort you then,” he murmured, “if you have more of an appetite later, have one of the men fetch you food.” 

“are you sure you’re not going to kill me?” the question fell from your lips, and kylo was shocked. 

“i could never,” you could tell that kylo was frustrated. it was more so a self-loathing sort of frustration. he got up, offering you his hand, “let me escort you back, please.”

hesitantly, you got up, taking his hand. once you touched his hand, however, your vision was filled with a much different image. 

old memories flashed in front of you. the first was a young boy, with raven hair, surrounded by a woman and man. they walked through a city together, laughing. a large smile was on the boy’s face as the woman handed him a flower. the man picked him up, placing him on his soldiers. both the man and the woman’s faces were blurred, as if their faces were erased from the memory. 

another image whizzed by. it was the same boy, slightly older. this time, it was a man with him. they appeared to be training with one another, as they were practicing meditation. however, darkness began to envelop the boy, taking him into a deep hole. the boy screamed as he fell, the sound filling your ears. next, came kylo ren, adorned in his dark armor, his lightsaber crackling as he stood before dozens and dozens of soldiers. he began to kill them all mercilessly, their bodies falling to the snow. darkness consumed his aura, and he appeared to be unstoppable as he killed the men and women. it was horrifying. 

you squeezed your eyes shut, begging for the images to stop. they ceased, and you were brought back to reality. fresh tears stained your cheeks as you glanced up at kylo. 

his eyes searched yours, “what did you see?”

“i saw.. i saw y-you,” the words barely came out of your mouth, “oh, kylo.” 

his arms enveloped around you, hugging you tightly against him, “i’m so sorry, (y/n). you saw my past and i-.” 

“supreme leader,” a voice rang through the dining hall. 

kylo quickly stopped hugging you, his arms dropping to his sides, “general hux, what is it?”

the ginger general was solemn, his eyes shooting a hard glare at the two of you, “we have the overnight briefing to discuss. are you done meddling around with the girl or do you need more time?” 

rage consumed kylo’s face, “general, you are speaking out of line. that is no way to speak to your superior.” 

his exterior crumbled away under kylo’s tone, “i deeply apologize, supreme leader. my comment was out of line.” 

“i will be attending the briefing promptly,” kylo stated, his tone full of venom, “i have a more important duty first, however. i must escort (y/n) to her quarters since her guards are off-duty. unfortunately, i do not trust any of my generals to do it, including you, hux.” 

“i will inform the others,” it was easy to notice that  general hux was flustered as he stumbled over his words. he left the dining hall, practically almost running out of the doors. 

“i hate him,” kylo snorted, “he’s an imbecile.” 

“why don’t you promote someone else to take his place?” you asked, glancing at kylo. 

he shrugged, “he’s an idiot, but he’s one of the smarter idiots. he also obeys the orders of the dark side, which pleases me.” 

what else pleases you? was the question that immediately popped into your thoughts. luckily, it didn’t slip out of your mouth. 

the way you look at me. kylo entered your head, placing a hand on the top of your head. gently, he ran his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help but allow it, your appearance this morning as well. the robe suits you, and your hair is down. i cannot get over your beauty. it’s captivating. 

you blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “shall we get going since you have that meeting?” 

kylo nodded, picking his helmet up from the table, “i want to see you again. not this afternoon because of my duties, but perhaps around dinner. would you like that?” 

“can we meet alone again?” you bit your lip. a part of you couldn’t help but love the privacy the two of you got. it allowed you to see kylo, without the mask. it made him more human in your eyes. not some man corrupted by the forces of the dark side. 

“i can have that arranged,” he responded, opening the door for you, “how about i come to your quarters?” 

you widened your eyes, blushing once more, “bubba and phoenix might get the wrong idea.” 

you’d be moaning and they would get the message. kylo only smirked at you, and your face burned a bright red.

“it’s only to talk with you,” kylo reassured you, “plus, i would like to get to know your droid. what’s his name?” 

“his name is jet,” you murmured, feeling kylo’s hand brush against yours as you walked together. 

god, there was such a magnetic force between the two of you. you always wanted to be as close to him as possible, even when he made you angry. maybe your conversation last night was proving to be correct. maybe you both were meant to be together. 

when it came to romantic relationships, you were extremely guarded. you had been cheated on, several times. it was with your second boyfriend, who manipulated you over and over again so that you would take him back every time. he was a pilot for the resistance, and you were just a civilian, who happened to live in a town who favored the first order. however, it wasn’t like you had to sneak around when it came to poe. your neighbors were plenty friendly. 

yet, poe was charming, and incredibly handsome. it also helped that he was extremely intelligent. you didn’t miss him so much, but rather the memories the two of you shared. the final split among the two of you was only five months ago. the wounds poe left were still somewhat fresh, even though the breakup was mutual. all together, your relationship with him was about two and a half years. 

“you’re quiet,” kylo remarked, “something on your mind?” 

“you probably already know,” you snorted. 

“i’m not always in your head reading your thoughts, (y/n). that is a tad invasive,” he stated, his helmet still at his hip. 

you could sense his honesty, “i’m just thinking about some stuff.”

kylo only hummed in response, stopping at the entrance of your quarters, “if it is any help, i can answer any question you have later tonight.”

“when you come for a ‘private visit’?” you giggled, earning a small smile from the supreme leader. 

“yes,” he nodded, slipping on his mask, “i will be back tonight.”

“what time?” you asked, raising a brow.

“after the ten p.m. briefing,” he responded, “yo-988 and yw-382 should be on-duty around noon. can you manage until then?” 

now, light was filtering through the viewports of the corridor. you inferred it was about eight in the morning, “i should be okay for a few more hours.” 

“if you get bored,” kylo cleared his throat, “tell me.”

“how do i do that if you’re across the ship?” you whined, pouting slightly. 

“you know how,” kylo answered, placing a gloved hand on your cheek. his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “i’ll be anticipating our next meeting.” 

“i will be too,” you took his hand, kissing it gently. 

“what are you doing to me?” kylo’s voice was small. 

“i don’t know,” you murmured, gazing at his mask. you knew your eyes had met his. 

“supreme leader,” a captain yelled down the corridor, “we need you, it’s urgent!”

“fuck,” kylo cursed, turning to the captain, “what is it?” 

“there is a resistance ship on board,” she panted. you assumed they had her run across the finalizer to fetch kylo, “it’s the millennium falcon.”

kylo stiffened, “it’s him. get yo-988 and yw-382 over here, NOW!” 

“yes sir,” the captain saluted kylo, and spoke into her radio, “yo-988 & yw-382, we need you here with the girl.” 

“you called?” phoenix and bubba came sprinting down the corridor, “hey babes, did you miss us?” 

kylo scoffed, “do your fucking job, yo-988. (y/n), i have to go pursue the fugitive.” 

“we’ll keep her safe, sir,” bubba cleared his throat. 

“you fucking better,” kylo snarled, and began to walk away, following the captain. 

“who is it?” your voice was quiet. 

“on the ship?” phoenix turned to you, “oh just that pesky pilot. as long as he doesn’t have backup we’ll just keep him.” 

“are you gonna kill him?” you knew exactly who they were referring to. poe must have found you somehow. but why was he here? why now? 

“oh hell no,” bubba had his blaster in his hands, his finger set on the trigger, “we’ll just keep him. he would be a pretty important hostage. he knows so much information, and kylo can extract it out of him easily.” 

“oh,” you sucked in a breath. 

jet emerged from your quarters, whistling and beeping wildly. you sighed, “i know poe’s here.” 

the sounds of blasters echoed down the hall, along with the cries of fallen troopers. bodies thudded to the ground. you tensed, realizing that poe was closer than you initially thought. phoenix pulled another gun out from his hip, “you better get behind us, darlin’.”

“don’t kill him,” you could feel the tension building as your companions shielded you. 

“i’ll just take out his legs,” phoenix scoffed, “i can hear his footsteps. he’s about to come through the gate now.” 

poe entered through the gate, smirking when he noticed you were guarded, “thought i wouldn’t come lookin’ for ya babygirl?”

“you have a history with this buffoon?” bubba snorted.

“not recently,” you muttered. 

“recent enough,” poe rolled his eyes, “okay fellas. she needs to come with me.” 

“not gonna happen buddy,” phoenix’s tone was defensive. you noticed he made a gesture towards bubba with his hand, as if it was a signal. 

“i’ll just take her by force then,” poe smirked, pointing his blaster at phoenix. 

“you’re not gonna do that,” bubba retaliated, “at the range you’re at, the blast of the laser is going to hit me or my fellow soldier. we’ll stumble back, and thus crush (y/n) under the weight of our armor. you don’t want to do that, poe dameron. especially if you want her alive.”

poe stiffened, and you could tell he knew bubba was correct. he stood there for a moment, formulating a response. that’s when the sound of a blaster rang through the corridor, filling your ears. poe crumpled to the ground, unconscious. you felt a gasp leave your throat. 

“good job for calling his bluff,” phoenix patted bubba on the soldier, “some of these resistance soldiers are really fucking idiotic.” 

“how do you know this guy anyways?” bubba turned to you.

“he’s my ex-boyfriend,” you mumbled, feeling flustered.

“ah,” phoenix nodded, “so he was on a mission to woo you back, huh?”

“he’s not exactly the best boyfriend,” you sighed. 

jet whistled in agreement, and bubba chuckled, “yeah?”

“he’s an arrogant prick to tell you the truth, and a cheater,” a part of you felt relief that he wasn’t shot dead. you knew if they killed him, then there would be an even larger reason why the resistance would fighting. they would almost stop at nothing to avenge his death, even at the cost of their lives. 

“radio our superior,” phoenix nudged bubba, “inform him that we have the fugitive. he’s alive, but unconscious. should we just send him back?”

“we don’t know his true intent of his mission though,” bubba remarked, nudging poe slightly with his boot, “why he arrived on that ship, we don’t know. and we also aren’t aware if he has backup or not.” 

“i would just send him back,” phoenix retorted, “it seems like this was just a rogue mission.”

“it was,” poe coughed, stirring, “i only came back for her.”

“well she doesn’t want you back buddy,” phoenix teased, “she’s over you. she’s onto bigger and better things.”

“i thought me coming to save her would help show her how badly i missed her,” poe’s eyes met yours, and you blushed. he stood, dusting off his pants. phoenix stepped in front of you, protecting both you and jet.

“hate to tell you,” bubba aimed his stun gun at poe, “but no one likes cheaters.”

“poe dameron,” kylo boomed, entering the corridor, stormtroopers following him in suit, “i see you decided to stop by.”

“aw shit,” poe rolled his eyes, “of course.”

“i suggest you leave,” kylo stated, his tone menacing. 

“this your new boyfriend?” poe whipped his head towards you.

“no,” you muttered, glancing down at the ground. 

“he’s not exactly your type,” poe sneered, glancing at kylo, “i’ll leave, as long as you don’t track my ship.” 

“so childish,” kylo growled, “i will accept your terms, as long as you allow troopers to escort you out.” 

“god this is embarrassing,” poe sighed, throwing his hands up, “okay, okay, i’ll leave. and i won’t kill any more of your men either.”

“you’re lucky i am kind enough not to kill you, or even hold you hostage,” kylo retorted, “i know what the resistance is planning. our time will come, poe dameron. the resistance, the girl, and you, will all die. the first order will rule the galaxy.”

poe’s jaw clenched, “at least i don’t slaughter my own blood. or thousands of innocent civilians. i hope you know how much blood you’ve spilled, ben solo.” 

kylo stood motionless as three troopers escorted poe down the hall, the only sound made was their boots against the marble. bubba cleared his throat, motioning for phoenix to exit with the troopers. they left the corridor, leaving you and kylo alone. 

“are you okay?” your tone was gentle.

“i don’t care about what he said,” kylo was still tense, “the thing i do care about is how badly he’s scarred you.” 

you glanced down to the floor once more, tears brimming your eyes, “how do you know?”

“i could see it in your eyes when he stood in front of you,” kylo answered, stepping towards you, “i could see the hurt, the trauma. how he ripped your heart out and tore it to pieces. he’s a filthy fucking excuse for a man. after what he did to you, i’m surprised you let me touch you.”

“you’re different. you’re not him,” the words could barely escape your lips. 

“i’m glad you think about me in that way,” kylo’s voice was delicate. as you stared down at the cold black marble, you could hear kylo taking off his mask. it thudded to the floor, making the room echo with a loud clang. 

he took off his gloves, gently tilting your chin up towards him, “i don’t want to make you feel anything that he ever made you feel. i couldn’t hurt you like that, (y/n). i already hate myself. if something happened to you, i don’t know what i would do. do you trust me?”

you nodded, and the pad of kylo’s thumbs wiped away your tears, “i trust you, kylo. more than i should. i don’t know why but i just want you.”

“it’s our bond,” kylo murmured, “we have a very unique bond. nothing can break it.”

“is it the force?” (y/e/c) eyes met his, searching for the answer in his brown depths. 

he nodded, “it is.” 

“i want to know more about it,” you stated, “i need to know everything.” 

“you will, in time,” kylo promised, “god, you’re so beautiful.”

you swallowed, feeling your heart skip a beat. the intensity between you and kylo was becoming too much to bear. his rich brown eyes were soft pools, filled with flecks of gold. hesitantly, you placed your hand on his cheek, gently tracing down the length of his scar. his jaw clenched at the feeling, and you figured it was instinct. no soul had ever been this close to kylo. no soul ever connected with his as strongly as yours did. 

he didn’t even know to respond. the way you looked at him drove him crazy. when your soft fingers grazed down his cheek, his breath hitched in his throat. the energy amongst the two of you was driving him crazy. he longed to touch you, to feel you, to make you feel loved. the way you deserved to be loved and praised. 

“i can’t take it anymore,” he shook his head. 

his lips met yours, kissing you passionately. his hands held onto your face as you kissed him back with the same intensity. 

the supreme leader of the first order, the man all in the galaxy feared, kylo ren, melted under the touch of your soft lips.

@lokilover-39  @bqbyl0n​  @lookinsidemyhead​

[theyanderespecialist]

Android Love (One Shot) Android Oasis Symmetra X Rich Chubby Female Reader

[Hello My Sexy Readers, I am here with a new chapter and in this one it is going to be a bit longer as it is a LONG WAYS To make. I hope you all enjoy this was requested off of Quotev by https://www.quotev.com/saitamasensei where reader is a teenage 18 or 19 and she is well off rich. In this one shot it is not omnic as they are in the real world and Andriods of Overwatch characters is like the most expensive merch you can get that is what this and I hope that you all enjoy now lets do this!]

(No One's POV)

It was a sunny day in (Home Town), birds are chirping and kids are playing. Not to mention a young wealthy woman was running through the city park, she has been for about two hours now. And she feels like she is going to drop dead. Why oh why did she have to be so chubby, she just wants to look nice in photos and not like a beach whale. Was that to much to ask!? She collapses on the bench drenched in seat and takes a drink of her water. She decided that, that was enough exercise for one day. She then gets up and stretches. Maybe a quick walk through the city on the way back won't hurt.

She starts to make her way home, the long way. When she sees a shop she has passed many times before. It was an android shop. One with all your favorite fandoms androids. She never had one before and she felt like burning some cash. She pushes the door to the shop open and goes to look at the many androids. She saw a sign for Overwatch ones and walked over. Their was so many to choose from. One caught her eye and yes it was expensive but it also had a sign that said.

"Must buy or will be scrapped."

(Name) did not want the android to be scrapped and so she purchased that specific one and then would have to wait one day or so to have it shipped to her home. The manager told her know returns and she rolled her eyes there was no way she would return this. She took the catalog with her and headed home to read up on the android she bought. She never played the game overwatch before so she knew nothing of the characters. Or there skins.

The one she bought was Oasis Symmetra. She learned about the characters Symmetra and the skin itself. It was stunning. (Name) wonders why no one would have bought it. She shrugs her shoulders gently and looked into it more before falling asleep on the couch. Tired from the long job she had taken earlier.

-Elsewhere-

A Android was being shipped to her owners home, she never been bought ever though she has been on shelves for years. This Android was excited to be able to meet the person who bought her and was determined to keep her safe and sound no matter what. Once she was brought to the house inside her rather large box the man delivers her and she can hear the box being open.

"You are so beautiful." She hears and the Android wish she could move, but she has to wait until she was activated.

Soon she was and she could see who bought her she was beyond stunned.

(Symmetra's POV)

I looked through the small "Eyes" I have, they were not really eyes but small hidden camera that could see for me as I could not see past my helmet which cannot be removed. What I saw stunned me more than anything, it was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, granted I never seen any other woman before in my life. She smiled at me and if I could I would blush. I stand there waiting for her to say something, though I did not like it, I seem to like being in control and I do not like not being in control, that was for sure. I hated this and just wanted to grab her and kiss her deeply. That is all I want and I did not care what it took she would be mine and mine alone.

(Back To No One's POV)

(Name) smiled softly. "It is nice to meet you, Symmetra, my name is (Name) (Last Name), I hope that we can be goof friends." She tells her new android and hopefully life long friend.

Symmetra froze, this beauty wanted to be her friend. Not just owner, it made her feel all fuzzy on the inside.

"I would like that My dear." Symmetra says.

(Name) smiles more and blushes she has never been called my dear before. It was nice and sweet and she liked it very much. It made her feel all warm all over.

They started to talk and get to know each other more. They had a great time talking and having a good time. (Name) told Symmetra she had to go for her daily jog. Symmetra did not want to her Dear to leave but had ideas. Maybe if she made her something to eat her dear would love her more. She nodded and (Name) left and Symmetra got to work on making a dish for her. While she was doing that she also picked up a bit, after the food finished and she plated it (Name) came back and had a huge black eye. This made Symmetra make a screeching sound in worry.

"Are you okay!?" She demanded to know setting (Name) down at the table and getting a bag of peas.

"I am okay, just someone grabbed me and robbed me." (Name) says holding the bag of peas to her swollen eye.

"I WiLL KIlL ThEM!!!" Symmetra says glitching a bit.

"It is okay Symmetra." (Name) says. "Really the police will handle it."

Symmetra did not believe this for one second. They had dinner and Symmetra knew she has to control her dear much more and her plan for it had to be moved up. So while (Name) was getting ready for bed Symmetra pounced. She pinned down her dear one and tore off her clothes. (Name) confused did not understand until Symmetra kissed her.

"Mine you are mine!" She says possessively taking off her own andriod clothes and started to kiss down her dear one's chest.

"mmmm Symmmmmetra...~" She moans as she is pleasure by her android.

Her android wanted them both to feel good and so she started to rub them together but it was useless as this Android was made without a vagina so it was doing nothing for her.

Symmetra cries out in frustration and laid on top of her dear one who soothed her. Symmetra guessed she would need a new plan. That is when it hit her as her dear one fell asleep she now know what she would have to do and she will do it. She got online and order what she needed and waited patiently for it to be delivered. Once it was Symmetra got it ready and walked over to her dear one and started to stuff her inside it. She will now have to rely on Symmetra for absolutely everything.

(Name's POV)

I wake up in a panic as I am being squished into something. I screamed and kicked around but it was so hard to move. Felt like my entire body was weighed down. I open my eyes and see I am in some type of suit. I am helped to sit up and look to see Symmetra smiling down at me.

"It is okay you are okay." She tells me.

"What did you do??!??" I ask slightly panicked.

"No one bought me and everyone passed me over..." She says.

I nodded slowly.

"I just want to keep you safe, I love you and do not want you hurt, you chose me, and I am not going to let you be hurt ever." She says. "Please just let me."

I looked at her and my anger melted away and I kiss her. "Thank you, I can never stay mad at you."

She kisses me back and we fall on the bed just making out for what seemed like hours.

-Time Skip, Brought To You By: Symmetra in this being into Bondage, Damn right boy it is all about that sweet sweet control-

It has been two weeks and me and Symmetra are walking through the park. I am still getting used to my android suit. It is heavy and hot and I had to rely on Symmetra to take care of me sometimes. But she is so sweet and she never seemed to mind. I was also much happier now. I smile at her and then hear someone shout at us.

"Hey! Your the bitch who got me arrested!" A man says and I looked to see the man who had mugged me. "I am going to kill you, you worthless slut."

before anything else can happen Symmetra was on him bashing his head into the cement. I pulled her off of him and next thing I know and ambulance has arrived and I was being threaten to have Symmetra scrapped, I defend her and so did others and now we were allowed to be let go. I take Symmetra hand in mine and she shudders. I am curious on why she did that. Is she feeling okay?

(Symmetra's POV)

I never felt anything like I had felt when she entwined her fingers with her left hand. What had been that. We made it home and she says she is going to shower. I nodded and helped her out of the suit. I waited for her and looked at my left hand and started to rub the fingers and I felt the pleasure once more. Is this what (Name) feels when I eat her out? I was suddenly struct with an idea and walk into the bathroom. I look at her and licked my lips. I get in the shower with her and she looks at me confused. I put on of my left hand's fingers inside her and she moans as do I.

"Oh~" I moaned as my circuits jolt with pleasure.

"Wait~" She pants as I finger her. "You mmmmm~ You can feel that~?"

I nodded and bit my lip as it felt so good and she clenched around my fingers making me cry out.

"Oh (Name)~" I moan. "Your so tight~"

She blushed and started to ride my fingers and I could feel how wet and tight she was and I knew that she was mine and mine alone. I finally can make a form of love not just to her but with her. I love it and I loved her we made out as I finger bang her stretching them inside of her.

I grab the towel and shred it tying her hands above her head to the shower head. I am going to show her just what I can do for her. I continue to fuck her with one finger but then add another.

"You like that~?" I ask her going rougher and abusing her clit with pleasure.

"Yessss~" She moans out and rides my fingers the best I can.

I smirked. "I am going to wreck you~" I tell her and I do just that making us both have our orgasms they may be different but we both received pleasure for the first time and I am never letting her go.

My love may be android love. But it is love none the less.

[YASSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter done, now I will not be doing ones like this often but I still hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy my friends!]

[hippychick006]

12.06 - Celebrating the life of Asa Fox Episode Review/Recap

Honestly, I see a picture like this on a promo and I have no hesitation diving straight in. Okay, you all know I have a hurt!Sam fetish, complete with writhing on the floor padabooty, let’s not bang on about it.

Official episode summary: THREE WINCHESTERS ARE BETTER THAN ONE – When hunters gather together to celebrate the life and tragic death of one of their own, Sam (Jared Padalecki) Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Mary (guest star Samantha Smith) must take action when a demon starts picking off hunters one by one. John Bedham directed the episode written by Steven Yockey  

My optimum number of Winchesters is two but yeah, I don’t mind a buy two get one extra free here and there.

Overall, I do really enjoy this episode, even after rewatch but putting under a cut to save space.

There’s a lot of things I don’t like about the Dabb era, and in terms of this episode, retconning Mary to be a hunter after parenthood is one of those things that niggles a little (I know she was a hunter before parenthood which also irks for different reasons) so there’s a lot I have to shake off from my mind in order to be able to enjoy an episode. And on rewatch, I had less issues than I did the first time (but given I’m coming at this straight from season 15, it could be a case of me just grasping onto absolutely anything that isn’t terrible).

Aside from the Mary thing, I love so much about this episode, not least because there isn’t a single mention of feathers who I am seriously going to struggle watching in any episode going forward thanks to 15.18 debacle.

Anyway moving swifly on…

First up is the intro and I love the introduction of Asa Fox as a character. We first meet him as a child, who Mary saves from a werewolf attack. And then we see him become interested in hunting (as Mary tells him she’s soon going to retire, and he’s worried that if she does: who’s gonna save people like me?)

Asa decides it’s going to be him and through a montage set to Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s Roll On Down The Highway, we see Asa grow up to become a pretty awesome hunter. Throughout all this time, he writes postcards to Mary, but doesn’t send them (no address) so he has quite a collection by the end and I think it’s all his hunts.

I’m so caught up in how awesome Asa is and how much I like this new character, I’m completely jarred when he comes to a sudden and unexpected end via hanging which also brings the music to an abrubt halt.

Great intro, Asa said very few words but I’m already mourning not getting to know him more.

After the opening titles, we switch to Jody who is chilling out at home about to watch Netflix when there’s a knock at the door.  Turns out it’s Sam and Dean who have just finished up a hunt and stopped by to visit. Unfortunately the cardboard cutout “just add water” instant girl hunters are at a concert. Jody offers to feed them, and Dean lets her know that he killed Hitler since the last time they saw her.

Sam: *huffs and walks away Jody: *blank stare “thank you?” Dean: You’re welcome

Love it.

They have pizza and watch Netflix and have a debate about rom coms. Sam says Dean is more of “an animated Japanese erotica chick.”

A little oversharing on your brother’s habits there Sammy, but Sam is not concerned in the least.  In fact, I love how totally relaxed Sam is sitting here. He’s clearly comfortable at Jody’s slumped on her sofa.

The phone rings and Jody goes to answer it, Sam and Dean have a conversation about Sam oversharing which Dean’s uncomfortable with.

Sam: Dude, be proud of your hobbies. It makes you who you are.

Supportive Sam encouraging his brother!

Jody returns and walks past them, she’s clearly upset. The boys follow to watch her start packing.  They ask what’s wrong and Jody says a friend of hers died – it’s poor Asa from the opener and I wasn’t expecting a link from Jody to Asa.  

The name is familiar to Dean and he’s trying to figure it out when Sam says it’s the guy Ellen used to tell stories about at the Roadhouse.  Asa apparently killed five wendigos in a single night and now I’m even more mourning his loss. Seems Jody met Asa when he came to town on a hunt, she caught him out when he tried to pretend to be an FBI agent by the name, Fox Mulder. He’s worse than the Winchesters!  Anyway she helped him out on a ghoul hunt and they kept in touch.The boys decide to go with her to the wake, John didn’t let them go to hunter gatherings outside of bars as he always said they were trouble.

Turns out Asa lived in Manitoba, Dean says “oh Canada” when he gets out of the car on arrival.  Sam is impressed with the house which yes, nice digs for a hunter.

We meet Asa’s mother, Lorraine and she knew her son was a hunter. She’s heavily in to the drink but she’s just lost her son, so I’m cutting her some slack as I can’t imagine anything worse.

Dean finds his way to the kitchen (and the beer) which has no label. He’s concerned but “Bucky” homebrewed it himself and it’s strong.  Dean introduces himself which gets the attention of the several hunters in the room,

Randy: No freakin’ way. Aren’t you dead? Like, four times? Dean: Yeah. It, uh, didn't take.

Just wait till they hear about Mystery Spot where he died over a hundred times in a single day!

Sam fanboy hunter: Wait. Your brother here? Sam? Dean: Yeah, he's still alive, too. He's –

Fanboy doesn’t even wait for Dean to finish, he’s off to find Sam.  Same fanboy (named Elvis), same tbh

While Dean’s making friend’s in the kitchen – and learning not to say the name ‘Wendigo’ which turns out to be a trigger word to take a drink - Sam’s homed in on hotboy Max and his equally hot sister Alicia.  Turns out their mother is a good witch who taught Alicia how to hunt bad witches.

Sam (to Max): What did she teach you? Max: Uh, mostly how to seduce men. Alicia: She also taught him some magic, which is actually more useful. Max: Eh, mostly the men thing.

Max is definitely getting his flirt on, making sure Sam knows he’s into hot men, and we cannot deny, Sam is a hot man. Before Sam can flirt back, Elvis interrupts and introduces himself and then makes Sam feel awkward when he asks Sam about being possessed by the devil. Bad Elvis!

Max (and Alicia) are both pissed on Sam’s behalf,

Alicia: Dude, you don't just ask someone about something that messed up. Max: Seriously, back off.

Protective!Max alert, I’m going to need a few minutes with my new ship Samax, though to be honest, the way Max and Alicia are sitting together, it might need to be Samaxia, which no issue other than it sounds like a drug that gets advertised on television with all kinds of side effect warnings, like may cause death...)

Elvis makes Sam feel so awkward that he runs off to go find a beer. Elvis then tries to talk to Max and Alicia and they outright just tell him to go away. Love them.

Aww, Sam got his beer and then went off to find his big brother. In fairness, I think they’ve been separated five minutes at this point and in that time Sam was accosted by Elvis. Dean’s looking through Asa’s office and discovers he has a real angel blade. Sam asks if Dean knew people tell stories about them.

Dean: Yeah. Apparently, we’re a little bit legendary. Sam: Yeah, but, I mean, so was Asa. Then a hunt went bad, and he ended up hanging from a tree, alone in the woods. Dean: He died on the job. No better way to go. Sam: You really believe that? Dean: Yeah. What, you don’t? I mean, come on, Sam, it's not like we're in the “live till you're 90, die in your sleep” business. This? [Dean points at Asa’s hunting wall] This only ends one way.

It’s difficult watching this knowing the ultimate end as I know Sam’s never agreed with this, being the one to want to see an end to hunting at some point; but you can’t deny Dean has been consistent in how he thinks he’s going to go out and has always seemed at peace with that.

Sam says they should get back and Dean agrees but warns Sam not to say “wendigo” to anyone. I love that he warns Sam. Every time Dean is a good brother, it just reminds me how much of a bad sister I am as I would not have passed on the warning. Sam’s confused about why he can’t say it but seems to just accept it.

Only a few people are around by the end of the night, still telling stories of Asa’s epic hunts - mainly Bucky. Why show, why give us this amazing man and kill him off in the first five minutes?!.

Anyway, turns out that the “ghoul story” from earlier had more to it. Asa and Jody got together for some “sweet sweet time alone”. Jody plays it down, says it was more of a casual thing. Turns out Asa could beat Dean in the ladies game and I think even Alicia and Max mother was one of his conquests (we saw this in the opening montage as well, Asa kissing a different woman in his car in between hunts).

Randy asks if people want a beer and heads to the kitchen, and I fear Randy is not long for this world as he walks down the hallway alone. We stay on him as he returns and my anxiety is kicking in, even with expecting something, it’s sudden when his throat is slit and he’s dragged off down a side corridor by someone wearing black.

Alicia walks back into the living room carrying two beers – and we’re reminded she’s dressed all in black?!  Alicia? Surely not.

We see someone enter the door and only see their boots as they walk, they stop just outside the living rom where everyone is talking. Loraine hears the footsteps stop and tells the stranger to come in and not hover.

Turns out it’s Mary.  Awkward Winchester family reunion, given I think from memory Mary walked out an episode or so ago.

Sam, Dean, Jody and Mary go somewhere more quiet to talk.

Mary: What are you doing here? Dean: What are you doing here?

I love the reversed dynamic of Sam being go between Dean and Mary (where it was the reverse between Sam and John).  Sam introduces Mary to Jody as their mother.

Jody: I thought– I thought you were... Mary: I was. Jody: [quietly] Wow. Wow! [She hugs Mary excitedly] It is so nice to meet you!

She belatedly sees the awkward tension and ships out to give them “some family time”

Dean asks where Mary’s been and she responds she’s been using John’s journal to work through a few things.

Dean: You could’ve just asked us, you know. Sam: Dean, come on. Dean: She could’ve. Mary: It’s okay. He’s right. But… This is something I needed to do alone. I… Listen, most of the people I knew are dead. And then I remembered Asa. He was so young when I met him, I thought he must still be around. And then… I saw an article about his death, and, uh… Dean: So you’ll text us once a week, maybe, but you’ll drive all the way to Canada to see some dead guy? Well, that’s awesome. I’m gonna get some air. Mary: Dean, wait...

Mary tries to go after Dean but Sam stops her. Sam knows his brother.

Jody on the other hand stops Dean at the door and pretty much says she’s here if Dean wants to talk about anything other than killing Hitler (which Dean spent the five hour drive telling her in excruciating detail.). She talks about giving anything to have her dead husband and son back but at the same time she would be worried it wouldn’t be the same which gives Dean some food for thought in regard to his complicated relationship with Mary.

Mary’s in the kitchen getting a beer, Lorraine introduces herself as Asa’s mother. Mary introduces herself as Mary Winchester, which Lorraine can’t believe as Mary should be her age. Mary: It’s a long story. She says she’s sorry. Lorraine says she should be, Mary’s the reason her son didn’t become an astronaut. She’s very bitter and hands Mary the box with the postcards Asa wrote to her. Mary defends herself and says she saved Asa’s life.

Lorraine: [scoffing] What am I supposed to say to that? After you, Asa got so… Hunting was his whole life. He never married. Never had a family, kids. And now… enjoy the wake.

I love this next scene between Sam and Mary. Sam finds Mary and asks if she’s all right. She thrusts the box of postcards at him and says she’s fine. She goes into Asa’s office and tells Sam she saved Asa when he was a kid, and this is all on her.

Sam: Well, no. Obviously, mom, he made his own decisions. And he helped a lot of people, you know?

Sam and free will and then we have Season 15 debacle. Pfff

Mary tells him that everywhere she goes and everything she does just feels wrong, but she’ll get used to it.Sam tells her he understands, she just needs space and so does Dean, (who we see outside drinking from his flask), He says Dean is just scared they are going to lose her again,

Sam: “that – that because we're (Sam and Dean) hunters, you're gonna walk away. But I know that’s not true. Even looking at these… [Sam holds out the box of Asa’s postcards to Mary] I mean, you saved Asa in 1980, um, after Dean was born. After everyone thought you quit hunting. Seems like you couldn’t stop then, and… I’m guessing you can’t stop now, either. This job, this life, is crazy and insane. But it’s in our blood. Come on. [Sam puts his arm around Mary] Mary: Where we going? Sam: To say goodbye to Asa.

I love that Sam understands more than anyone the desire to have normal/safe, pulling against the need to save people/hunt things so I love this scene between him and Mary and I like Mary a little bit more because of it. Damn you Jared! You even got me to like Claire once!  

They go to say goodbye to Asa and I like when Mary undoes the cover over his face and we get blood dripping onto Asa’s forehead. It’s interesting to have both Sam and Mary in this scene in a callback to Sam’s nursery scene.  They both look up and it’s Randy, tied to the rafters, dead and bleeding from his neck wound.

Back in the living room, Bucky is still telling stories about Asa. Sam and Mary rush in and Sam tells everyone they need to leave because Randy is dead. I like this, it’s like a murder mystery now. All of a sudden, water is shut off (this is new canon?), and the twins can smell Sulphur. Lights are flickering. Demon alert!

Bucky tells them it’s Jael, a crossroads demon who hangs people, which is his thing, snaps necks (Asa), slits throats (Randy). Turns out Asa exorcised the demon but now it’s back. Bucky tries to open the door, Elvis helps but it slams shut.

Max (trying to impress Sam): you’re wasting your time [he waves a hand in front of the door and we see red symbols] Max says the entire house has been warded.

Not sure if that impressed Sam or not but Max had me at “Seriously, back off” and now this?  *Fans self

Anyway, it means they are trapped inside.

Back outside with Dean, he’s still drinking from his flask. He hears footsteps and doesn’t bother turning around, just tells the person to “go away”. I think he thinks it’s Mary, but turns out to be Billy saying “you’re not the boss of me.”

Dean: Billie. What’re you doing here? Billie: My job. [Dean chuckles] Well, I’m not dead yet. Billie: Shame. But actually, I just finished inside. I was reaping a fresh soul.

Wait, what?  But Dean’s brother is in there! Dean’s pissed and marches to the door.

Inside, Bucky is telling the group more about the demon Jael. Asa exorcised the demon but not before it killed a first nations girl by tying a noose around her neck.

Outside Dean is rattling and banging on the door

Dean: Sam. Sammy! Hey! Billie: You can huff and puff, but that house is on supernatural lockdown. They can’t even hear you.

Bucky is still expositioning and Dean is still trying to get past that old Winchester nemesis “the door”, even throwing a solid statue at it, but nothing is happening.

Okay, we’ve now reached the only part of this episode I have an issue with. We’ve got a group of hunters standing around wondering who the demon is amongst them and not one of them can remember the tests for a demon. Sam come on!  You knew Christo in season 1 and you performed a reverse exorcism in season 8.

Anyway Elvis accuses Alicia of not being in the room and Max says Dean wasn’t in the room either (uh Max buddy, accusing Sam’s brother isn’t going to win you any points in the whole wooing thing, just fyi - of course wooing Sam in the first place is pretty dangerous terratory)

Finally Alicia remembers about holy water but they are all out. Elvis says they can just make more but Mary reminds them the water is off. Uh? The toilet bowl?

Dean’s stopped attacking the door and turns to Billie and asks, What did you do?  Billy says it wasn’t her, she’s just cleaning up the mess but “it’s always nice to see a Winchester who can’t get what he wants.”

Dean: You think this is funny? Huh? Hunters are dying in there. Billie: Everyone dies.

Dean is pretty much losing his shit and I’d like to remind people that at this point, he doesn’t know which hunter has died.

Back with the group, Sam finally remembers his brother is outside so all focus is on Alicia who starts coughing. I think she’s faking it to screw with her brother (totally what I would do) but no,

Alicia/Jael: Alicia’s not here right now. [Her eyes glow red] Leave a message. [she punches Max] Oh, you’re a fun group. We’re gonna have a good time tonight.

Jael leaves Alicia in a cloud of demon smoke and flies into the fireplace. Sam and Max get Alicia up (Samaxia forever – warning for side effects which may include internal bleeding and even death)

They now need to figure who in the house Jael has jumped into. Jody gives the orders (I’ll forgive this, she’s a cop) and they pair off to search the house (why not sweep room to room?), Anyway, Sam’s with Mary and Jody’s with Bucky.

Dean’s worked out that Billy got in to reap the soul so if she can get in, she can get Dean in.

Billie: I could, I suppose. But– Dean: Do it! Billie: But it’s a one-way ticket. And you’re gonna owe me one.

Billie, Sammy is in there, do you think Dean cares about “cosmic consequences” at a time like this? There is a door between them right now ffs!  Sammy may even be dead and Dean does not want him decomposing before he can find a crossroads to make a deal!

Elvis who was supposed to be partnering with Lorraine, left her briefly to get her a double (vodka I presume?).  Anyway Dean comes flying through the door like the overly dramatic bitch he is whenever Sam is in danger.

Dean (whipping out demon knife): Where’s my brother? [he’s already marching past them btw to go look]

THIS IS MY SHOW!  What moron thought this show was going to end with DeanCas?  Come on, don’t be shy, show yourselves so we can point and laugh because you are going to have an epic tantrum approximately 3 and a half years from this episode which could have been prevented if you’d watched the damn show, instead of wallpaper. By the way, in this episode, Castiel was played by the statue Dean threw at the door. [It represents the violent nature of the Destiel relationship – I have a 500 page meta on this if anyone is interested].

Lorraine accuses Dean of being the demon.

Dean: Demon? Lorraine: Kill him! Dean: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, lady. Look, I’m not a demon, okay? I’m one of the good guys. Now stick with me, do what I say, and everybody’ll get out of here, okay? Everybody!

Elvis – making far too much use of his screentime matches Dean’s dramatics by pulling out his own knife and saying ominiously “well, not everybody” [complete with red flashing eyes].

In this episode, Dean is allowed to be a proper hunter and is able to fight.  He taunts the demon, “You’re kinda slow for a demon, aren’t you?” which, he seriously is, no idea how this demon got my wonderful favourite side character “Asa” killed (if he’s not in the final watching Kansas play at the Road House along with all my other favourites, I will be pissed and have a full week meltdown on Twitter – just fyi) [*I won’t really because I’m not insane. Please don’t report me.]

Dean tells the demon to go to hell. The demon tells Dean that Hell is a “complete train wreck” (uh, no, what is a “complete train wreck” is most of season 12-15) Hell is much more pleasant.  Dean repeats for the demon to go to hell and starts reciting an exorcism (finally, the smart brother is in the room).  Love hearing Dean recite the exorcism. Demon says nuh uh though and snaps Elvis’ neck complete 180 which causes Lorraine to scream, the black smoke escapes from Elvis still standing body. Elvis collapses on the floor and Lorraine is wailing. And I can say “Elvis has left the bulding” which I’ve been waiting the entire episode to be able to say. I’m marginally disappointed Dean didn’t.

Dean helps Lorraine up while shouting “Sammeh!” which brings Sammeh running to the living room. 

Mary: Dean. We thought you were outside. Dean: Yeah, I got back in. Sam: How? Dean: It was a one-time deal. Won’t happen again.

Thankfully, there’s no time for Sam to initiate the Spanish inquisition on THAT right now. They account for everyone – except Elvis obviously. The lights go out and everyone puts flashlights on (Max and Alicia have the phone torch on – me as a hunter!) but Dean pulls out the knife which Alicia and Max look at.  

Alicia: Mm, impressive. Dean: Demon blade. Kills ‘em dead. Max and Alicia in unison: Nice.

While I try to work out a Sam/Max/Alicia/Dean ship name, Bucky suggests lighting candles, Dean says they need a devil’s trap. Sam says “on it” and Dean is right there with him “yep”.  My boys working in sync!

Dean’s plan is for them all to stand in the devil’s trap. The person who won’t get in, is the demon. Clever plan. Mary is impressed and it’s nice for her to see how well one of her sons turned out as a hunter and the other is a cute dumbass – at least Sam had a flashlight.

Mary goes off on her own for some reason and goes to get the angel killing blade from Asa’s office.

Max tries flirting with Sam again, asking what kind of pentagram they are doing

Sam: Standard pentagram. Nothing fancy. Max: I like a Fifth Pentacle of Mars. It’s got more character.

Max bringing his A game to the flirting, I like it. Alicia doesn’t like all the flirting: “Because character is really what matters right now.”  They are just like Sam and Dean! Spin off of codependent witch siblings right tf now. Please and thank you.

Jody sees Mary return and is suspicious she was off on her own. She whispers to Sam that she thinks Mary is possessed, she gets increasingly worried which draws the immediate attention of Dean who comes over and asks what is going on (demon knife drawn out and ready once again). Sam quietly tries to tell Dean that Jody thinks their mom is a demon, but Jody shouts, No, I don’t think, I know! I know she’s a demon. [points accusingly at Mary] which prompts Bucky to steps away from Mary and reaches for his knife.

Mary: Hey! Jody: Kill her! Use the knife! Kill her now! Sam: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. Hold on a second, [turns to look at Jody] Jody, you… You don’t sound like yourself. Dean (not even looking around):That’s because she’s not herself. Are you?

Oh my poor Sam Dumbchester, on rewatch, this episode did you dirty, I was sucked in by my love of Asa Fox and the whole door thing and the Sammeh! I’m so ashamed. Hands my bitter Sam girl platinum membership card back to the bitter Sam girl club in recognition I am no longer worthy of holding it Jody turning into the red eyed demon is in the running for worst “playing of a different character ever” but it’s up against stiff competition from Casifer, Empty!Castiel, Gestapo!Castiel and gayforpay!Castiel and is mercifully short. My main issue with this demon is there is no real consistency through the different bodies it inhabits. They should all have agreed how to play it imo and I do think Kim goes Disney villain OTT but not enough to cause embarrassment, just would have been better if the performance had been toned down some.

Demon Jody had hoped they would kill their mom “wouldn’t that be a riot?”

Dean (sarcastically): Yeah, super fun

Sam tries to attack Jody and is thrown. Big brother is pissed and tries to attack but is thrown too. Uh, how come the lame demon can fight now?

Anyway, Mary attacks and tries to kill Jody with the demon blade and manages to scratch her arm, but Sam says no and pulls Mary away. .

Mary: What are you doing?! She’s a demon. We kill demons. Sam: No, but she’s Jody.

I like this that Mary doesn’t know you don’t just go around killing people, you try to save them first. 

The demon is bored and claps her hands, and everyone collapses onto the ground and cannot move (where was this kickass power earlier?).  The demon says she’s heard so many stories about the Winchesters, she stands over sam and says, “The idea that he left a meatsuit alive is just so deliciously weak.” Sam gives his “bite me” face.

As for the rest, she’s been inside their heads and starts spilling out secrets – the twins are Asa’s children (I forgot about this detail), Lorraine apparently tried to sabotage Asa’s truck to stop him going out hunting (which is a nice call back to him trying to fix the truck in the episode earlier).  She says Jody fantasized about a life with Asa.  Bucky manages to get up to attack but Jody grabs him and holds him on his knees.

Jody/Jael: And you. Bucky. Brave, brave Bucky. I was there that night. Tell these nice, stupid people what you did. Tell them what you took from me. Asa was mine.

I like this next scene, Sam manages to stand up and start the exorcism before he’s thrown across the room again. Dean picks up where Sam left off, until he’s thrown through a glass door, the twins are next and get pinned to the wall.

Bucky finally confesses that he killed Asa [and the way he’s dramatically thrown to the floor would never have made it into a scene in seasons 1 to 5]. Oh show, weeps for the quality that once was. Season 12 (heavy sigh).

Mary stands up and finishes the exorcism which sends the demon back to hell.

Sam rushes over to help Jody who says, “That… sucked”

[Try re-watching your performance Kim!]

Lorraine: Bucky, what did you do?

They all turn and look at Bucky.

Bucky says they were hunting in the woods for Jael and he wanted to go back and get the angel blade. Asa wanted to keep hunting but Bucky pushed him and Asa fell and cracked his head and died, which I feel kind of sorry for, not like he did it deliberately and he lost his best friend [and lets be real, it’s not the worst thing a supposed “best friend” has done on this show].  It’s a very tragic end for a great hunter (don’t fast forward to 15.20)

Bucky asks what they are going to do to him.

Alicia: Tell everyone, every hunter we meet. They’re gonna know your name, Bucky. Know what you did. Max: You like stories. This is the story everyone’s gonna tell about you. Forever

I guess I get Max and Alicia’s anger, Asa being their dad and all. It’s just tragic all round because I do feel it was an unlucky accident and Bucky clearly misses his best friend.

I like the setup of the funeral pyre, now 3 hunter bodies being burned, Jody, Lorraine and Mary are standing in front of the pyre. Alicia and Max are resting against their car and Dean and Sam are doing the same against baby.  

Lorraine tells Mary she was wrong, “Asa did have a family. He even had kids. I’ve got grandchildren. Suppose I should go meet them.” She walks over to hug Alicia and Max.

Jody and Mary are left at the pyre,

Jody: I don’t know what’s going on between you and your boys, but I gotta tell you, mom to mom, they are good men. Best I’ve ever met. Mary: I know. They’re not the problem.

Jody walks away and leaves Mary on her own, which is Dean’s opportunity, he taps Sam and they both go over to Mary. They ask if she’s okay but Billy appears and says, “She’s really not.” Mary asks who she is and Dean says she’s a reaper that got him back inside.

I would like to have much preferred to have seen Sam’s reaction as well as Mary’s but we don’t get this and it’s a bad choice of angle for me. Billie says Dean owes her one and looks at Mary, “This one. This one right here.”

Billie is still on her “what’s dead should stay dead” kick. She’s a stickler for the laws on that (and never really changes tbh, I don’t really get Billie’s overall arc.)

Mary says she didn’t ask to come back, Billie agrees but says the dead man’s look in Mary’s eyes says she hates it, that she feels she doesn’t fit, like she’s all alone.

Dean: Well, she’s not alone.

Billie (still looking at Mary): Tell me I’m wrong. [Sam and Dean turn to look at Mary and kudos to Jared once again for saying so much with no words as to how he looks at Mary here]

Billy says she’s not here to hurt Mary, “I’m here to offer you mercy. A one-way ticket upstairs, away from all of this.”  [Again poor choice of camera for this scene as we see Dean but not Sam].  Mary asks how it would work.   

Sam: Mom. [My poor boys!] Mary: You just kill me again? Billie: Reapers don’t kill people. Rules. Mary: Well… then… [she looks up at Sam and Dean] Me: Don’t you dare break my boys fragile hearts! Mary: Then I guess you’re just gonna have to wait. Billie: Winchesters… Me: Same tbh Billie Billie: …if you change your mind– if any of you change your minds– you know my name. [she disappears]

Sam asks if this means Mary is coming home. Mary says yeah, but follows up with: Not quite yet. I just need a little more time.

Sam looks disappointed ☹ but he understands

Dean: Can we buy you breakfast at least? Mary: Bacon? Dean: All the bacon. Mary: I would love that.

I love that Dean and Mary can find a common bond through food. Sam hugs Mary as they walk together towards the Impala

Despite a couple of wobbly bits sprinkled here and there and my poor Dumbchester Sammeh, I still really love this episode overall, the good far outweighs the issues I have and I’ll happily re-watch it as a stand-alone MOTW.  I loved the introduction of the witch twins and wish we’d got to see a lot more of them *coughs* and a lot less of other “fan favourite” characters.

It will be interesting where this one will ultimately fall in my definitive list.

[ladynestaarcheron]

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Nineteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti  @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me @rinad307 @superspiritfestival)

back after my exam hiatus!! so without further ado, here we go!

---

February 12 - 4 years after

The sun is barely shining before Nesta has rushed out to—who else?—Zeyn's house.

She can hear him taking his time as he makes his way to the door and she bounces on the balls of her feet. It's not an emergency...yet. But she doesn't like the minutes ticking by, with Cassian home alone with the three of them.

His warm brown eyes are bleary only for a second before he realizes it is her standing before him, and then they fly open.

"Nesta? What are you—is everyone all right?"

"We need to take Ollie to see his healer," she says.

"All right, I'll get my shoes. But—you didn't bring him?"

Nesta winces. Poor wording on her part, indeed. "No," she says. "I meant...Cassian and I are taking him. I...need you to come be with Avery and Nicky."

Zeyn, to his credit, does not flinch. His concern slips into something else, something she cannot name, for only a fraction of a second before it is back. "Of course. Just a minute, yeah?"

And he reappears less than a minute later, boots laced, shutting the door behind him. They set off together.

He doesn't even ignore her. "Are you worried?"

"I'm always worried," she says. "It's not the worst it's ever been, but...it's been a while." It had been six months since Nicky had coughed badly enough to need to see a healer. She remembers holding him in the first minutes after his birth—she hadn't been given him right away, like his siblings, because even then there had been something wrong with his lungs.

Zeyn must sense where her mind has run off to, because he reaches out and squeezes her hand. "If you think it's not that bad, you're probably right. You're going to see a healer. Everything will be fine."

She shoots him a shaky, grateful smile.

"Are Ava and Nicky awake?"

"I don't think so. Not when I left."

"All right...just get them ready and take them to nursery?"

"Yes, I already packed their things...if Avery won't put on a jacket, don't argue with her, but bring it along and give it to her teacher."

"Is that still going on?"

"Don't get me started," she grumbles. They round the corner and walk up the path to the house. Nesta holds out her hand to stop him. "Zeyn," she starts. Pauses. "Thank you."

It's not enough...there's more to say, she knows. But it does it, for now. And she has more pressing matters at hand, anyway.

---

April 12 - Year of

With the dawn of spring came dramatic change in the shop. Whatever winter wear had not been sold was tucked away in storage, and the switching out of the clothier's merchandise had inspired Nesta to do the same in Cassian's home.

Cassian did not have much to begin with, of course. But she felt she could rearrange the furniture in her bedroom.

Not that she had done much to make the place "hers"—in fact, she was not quite sure how. The little apartment she had rented in Velaris was the closest thing she had ever had to her own home, and she hadn't done much in the way of decor there. Briefly, she wondered if it was still in her name, or if Feyre had stopped paying the rent.

She decided she didn't care much. She was never going to go back to Velaris. Even if Cassian did still take his trips there.

While it was true that she had never purchased any bedding or curtains or a vanity, the subscription Cassian had gotten her for Solstice—NightWrite—had provided her with little knick-knacks. She had thrown out anything with Night Court insignia, but kept most of it. So pushing her bed to one side of the room and moving her bookshelf to the other was also accompanied by shuffling around of these objects.

It was during this...rather useless endeavor, she could admit to herself, of switching the order of the tiny figurines on her shelf, that she found it—the old flyer she had taken from the bar in the town center. The one advertising ships to that land across the sea. Gilameyva.

Nesta sat down on the bed. This is the paper that had inspired her, all those months ago, to get a job. To save up and go.

Since she never bought much of anything, she definitely had enough to book comfortable passage. She could go. Just set sail and...never come back.

Or maybe she could go...somewhere else. On a vacation. And then she would...come back. Didn't people plan for summer holidays months in advance? She could bring it up to Cassian now. Couldn't she?

But no, that would be insane. She had to save up. Because she was not going to live in his house forever. And where would she live? Would she build herself a house here, in the Illyrian mountains?

The flyer in her hand seemed to mock her. An idyllic land far away where no one knew the name Nesta Archeron. A fresh start.

For what she could not admit to herself, but what she had just started to understand was: she did not want a fresh start somewhere else. She wanted to stay with Cassian.

When had the switch happened in her mind? When did this pull between them not become so irritating? When had she decided to make her bedroom more comfortable, make her mark more permanent?

She didn't know. The only thing she was certain of was that this current state of limbo, of living in her room in his house while waiting for him to come back from meetings with her sister...this would not do.

Romance was fun in books, but in the real world, practically always won out for Nesta, and so it was abundantly clear to her that two options lay before her: either she would leave or she would stay. And those were her terms.

So all she had to do was work up the nerve to act on her decision.

After she figured out what it was, of course.

February 12 - 4 years after

When they get to the clinic, they are not immediately rushed into a room, which calms Nesta down. Cassian, on the other hand, only gets more anxious.

"Why aren't they letting us see the healer?" he demands in a whisper, low enough so Ollie, his head on Nesta's shoulder, cannot hear him.

"Trust me, if they think we can wait in line, we're all right."

"But he's coughing!"

"The others might have some graver issue. If they pull you ahead, your situation is dire." Indeed, there had been times when Nesta had brought Ollie in; the healer had taken one look at him and announced that she would need all her appointments cancelled.

"Sit down," she tells him, lowering herself and Ollie into a chair. She presses her lips to the top of his head as she strokes his lower back.

Cassian does, but it must be wildly uncomfortable; these tiny things with no wing-accommodation. She frowns. What will that be like for her children? To live here, where even in a community of different types of faeries, they are clearly other.

"You're really not worried?" he asks her.

"I'm concerned," she says. "But I'm not nervous. I know more or less what she's going to say. His lungs haven't gotten drastically weaker. You see him play and run around. It comes and goes for him. As long as we keep up with what the healer prescribes—which we do—we should be fine."

Cassian is quiet, clearly struggling for words.

"What is it?"

"Sometimes...things don't happen according to plan," he says finally.

She actually laughs a little. "Well, I know that."

His lips quirk at her slight laugh. "How did...how did you find out? That you were...pregnant?"

She leans back in her chair, giving Ollie more room to recline on her. Lying on his stomach sometimes helps with his cough. "I fainted, actually. And they—Miri, Zeyn—they brought me to the clinic and Amorette told me."

"She was your healer the whole time?"

"Yes. That's how we met."

"And you..." he hesitated. "She delivered them?"

"She did," she says.

Nesta often recalls that day with wonder. Her whole life she had felt—everything. Just so much, all the time. And how insignificantly nothing it all appeared, compared to that cacophony of emotion in those few hours.

"He was sick, then, too," Cassian says softly.

They have never truly discussed this before, but..."Yes. He was born...he was too small. And his lungs were...weak. Not quite underdeveloped, but weak. He wasn't...ready to breathe...yet."

Recollecting that time—collapsing in exhaustion and relief against the bed, and realizing only a few seconds later that something was horribly, horribly wrong—why weren't they giving her the baby? Why could she only hear two cries?—it always tightens Nesta's throat and blurs her vision. She can barely feel Cassian put his arm around her.

"We didn't know what was going to happen, at first," she whispers, half because of where they are, half because of what she's saying. "But he's...he's strong now. This is just...we're at the healer's. He'll be fi—" Nesta's voice catches on the last word and she can't finish it. She forces her mind to go blank. She can't imagine—can't let herself think—

"Hey," Cassian's voice cuts in. He squeezes her shoulder. "Stay with me."

You stay with me, she wants to say.

But she stays silent, choosing to focus on the feel of his arm. She doesn't trust her voice now, for anything.

---

April 15 - 1 year after

Midway through her second trimester, Nesta was more than ready to give birth. The extra weight she was carrying was officially past flattering, she couldn't see her feet unless she was lying down, and everywhere she went, people stopped her and asked her if she was excited.

The latter was the absolute worst, because she still had not decided whether or not she was going to keep the children.

But she had never been good at being put on the spot—her preferred method of dealing with unwanted advances had always been silently staring them down, and since she was trying to get along as an average Sugar Valley resident, when Zeyn asked her if she had gotten around to painting the nursery yet, and if she would like some help...

What else could she say?

So he was there that afternoon, holding two buckets of light blue paint.

"Are you sure there's any difference between these two?" he asked, squinting.

"Sky and powder? Yes." To be fair, she probably wouldn't have registered the difference so clearly had she not grown up with Feyre, ever-obsessed with chronicling the different colors around them.

"Are we doing...stripes?"

"No." Stripes? For babies? "Just those two will be powder," and she punctuates her words by pointing to the wall front and back walls, "and those two will be sky."

"Oh. Why?"

"It's supposed to be lightly stimulating." She had read that in a book Amorette had given her. She was skeptical, but the store she had gone to had given her a good deal on the paints.

"Right. Well. Let's start, then."

Zeyn could be irritating, but his endless, mindless chatter could be comforting, as well. That was how she felt today. And she did appreciate how he kept going to fetch her things—berry juice and an extra cushion to put on her chair. Nesta felt she had not done her part at all, but Zeyn didn't seem to mind.

"Any progress on names?"

"Nothing concrete."

"Ah, well," he said. "My mother says you have to meet a baby before you know for sure if the name is right."

Nesta didn't think she'd be able to "meet a baby"—surely they would just be...the same as the rest of the small children she saw at the clinic or around town. Babies, she felt, all looked the same, and even if they were older and had developed their own features, they weren't very diverse personality-wise.

Not that she didn't like children. She remembered a vague feeling of excitement being told that she was going to have a new baby sister—Feyre, she couldn't remember Elain's birth—and she had liked to play with her, when she was a young girl. But there had not been very many babies for her to interact with during her teenage and adult years.

This was ridiculous. She didn't need to dwell on this so much. She probably wasn't going to keep them, right? That was why it didn't matter that Cassian still had not written back. It wasn't...he didn't need to know, if neither of them wanted anything to do with this. Because he did not want children either, obviously. He was...busy.

"Maybe it'll look different when it dries," Zeyn said, interrupting her thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes...sky's a bit darker."

"Hmm," he said, frowning. "You know...I really don't see it."

Nesta shrugged.

Zeyn clapped his hands together. "Well, as fun as staring at paint dry is..." he grinned at her. "Want to go for dinner? Jamal's?"

And she was certain that Sugar Valley etiquette demanded humoring the person who spent the afternoon doing handiwork at your house, so she said, "Sure."

---

February 12 - 4 years after

It is just past noon when Nesta sees Zeyn again, at the shop, coffee and pastry in hand.

"Hey!" he says. "You're all right? Ollie's...?"

"Fine," she says, unable to stop her grin. "The healer gave us a tonic for him to take over the next few weeks. She said that he might need it now and again, but as long as he takes it when he does, she sees no reason to expect significant deterioration. He'll probably be on par with his siblings by the time he turns twelve." Nesta's heart sings as she repeats the healer's words.

Zeyn pulls her in a hug. "Let's tell Miri and Adil. They're in the back."

"Oh, I'm actually not staying long. I just came to let you know we're all right...and give you this," she adds, holding out the food. "Thank you so much. How were Avery and Nicky?"

"Fine," he says. "We had fun."

Nesta rolls her eyes. "Don't tell me."

"I wasn't going to," he teases. "It's a secret."

"You four and your secrets," she says, rolling her eyes again.

He shakes his head, eyes still laughing at her. "Are you taking him back to nursery?"

"No, we're going to let him rest. We think it also might be nice to spend some time with just him, the both of us. We're thinking—" Nesta stops herself. Zeyn does not need to know how she and Cassian plan to spend time with each child individually, he does not need to hear this. "He's just so tired," she finishes.

But the damage is done and the warmth slips out of Zeyn's face. He looks down at the order from Samir's. "Nesta," he says, soft, slow. "Are you really doing this with him?"

She freezes. "Zeyn. He's their father. He has a right to be included in this."

"I'm not talking about that...and I don't agree with you on that matter, either."

Nesta raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"He wasn't there, Nesta," Zeyn says, more desperate than anything else. "He just—you had to do it all without him."

"I can't believe you're starting this right now," she says, more to herself than to him. Louder, she says, "I will not discuss this. He's here now. He's a part of their lives now. He was with me today."

"He's here when it fits his schedule."

"There's nothing wrong with having a job," she defends—defends! As if she doesn't hate that he commands the Night Court armies!

"Yours and his are not comparable," he says. "Do you remember...what it was like? What it felt like?" Zeyn stops, takes a shaky breath, before continuing. "Because I remember seeing you. In pain. Burdened. All alone."

"That's enough," Nesta snaps, crossing her arms. "It's been months, Zeyn. He's a permanent fixture of their lives. You ought to get used to it."

"Oh, I'm used to that," he says, about as close to testy as Zeyn can get. "It's his being a permanent fixture of your life I can't get behind."

Nesta tenses. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nesta. Please."

She shifts her weight backwards. If he were anyone else...but he's not. He's Zeyn. Zeyn, who has always been there for her, to the very best of his ability, who left his house at dawn this morning to feed and dress her children.

So she takes a deep breath. "I need to be getting back, Zeyn," she says.

He slumps slightly, but she knows this isn't over. "Give my love to Ollie," he says.

"I will."

"Thanks for the food."

"Don't be silly...thank you. Really."

"Don't thank me."

"Well, I will if I see fit. Thank you."

It works—he gives a short laugh. But it doesn't meet his eyes.

She doesn't have space, though, in her head or heart for that right now. Not Zeyn; not that she doesn't have any room for him. But right now...right now she needs to go to Ollie.

---

thank you all for your patience with this chapter, and @thestarwhowishes for betaing<3 would love to hear what y’all think<3

---

Chapter Twenty

[cherry3point14]

Cookies & Milk

Pairing: Dean x British!Reader Warnings: Established D/s, mind you don’t fall down the crack Word Count: 2,172. Summary: Dean buys you some cookies. You call them biscuits. Arguments ensue, lines are drawn and restraints are required. A/N: Have any of y’all met @winchesters-meaty-feast? She’s my pal and partner in crime. We have extensive conversations about many a subject but one day the most important topic arose. Biscuits. I’m a dunker, she is not. It almost tore us apart but luckily we’re stronger than that. Anyway, I drabbled this Dom/sub biscuit thing in our chat and the following CRACK is what snowballed from that. (This is meant to be dumb ok. Don’t come for me over this weirdness.) 

Ao3 if you prefer.

You should close your laptop.

In the late afternoon—underground where the time of day doesn’t matter—even then the light it’s emitting is too blue. Sure, you could turn down the brightness but it’s too little too late. Your eyes are already starting to ache from the strain.

You're not even doing anything important. You started scrolling a few hours ago; a news story that might have been something, but turned out to be nothing. Less than nothing, it was mundane. Dull as dishwater, as your mum might say. You would have closed your laptop then if it hadn’t been for that link at the bottom of the page. To another article, this time about an unexpected cold snap. This leads you to look up weather trends in Kansas, which becomes reading the articles on weather.com. Who even knew weather.com had articles? Still, they do and they’re very informative. The problem is that their data all points to it being cold as balls soon (your term, not theirs). So, now you’re shopping, with a pair of snow boots and two winter coats in your basket. And you’re debating a new scarf to put you over the free shipping threshold.

It is really time to shut your laptop before you go ahead and checkout. Dean hates having to pick up your parcels in town. Always complains that you have a problem. Pretty hypocritical considering the number of breweries he keeps in business. Besides he doesn’t even have a reason to complain, Marta loves seeing him, she lights up like a Christmas tree for him. You walk into the post office and you get a ton of side-eye, plus a ten-minute wait, but Dean? Well, he’s always at the front of her line.

You’re so engrossed in shopping that you don’t immediately look up at the sound of the bunker door. It’ll be Dean, you know that much. He’ll have a couple of brown bags from his supply run and you don't want to insult him by insinuating that he needs help.

It’s for the greater good anyway, the longer you sit here the more chance there is of you buying him snow boots too. Maybe he'll let you buy him a hat too.

Once he’s finished stomping his way down the stairs he sets the paper bags down next to you. It just so happens that's the exact moment you finally look up at him. A grateful smile on your face and over the top fluttering eyelashes—to remind him how loveable you are.

He shakes his head at how obvious you are. “I didn’t buy them for just you.” His unnecessary emphasis is all the permission you need.

“Is that smoke?” You sniff the air, one arm sliding inside the nearest bag, “must be the fire in your pants.”

He tries. Bless his heart. He tries to hold out. You can see him chewing the inside of his mouth as your arm moves about inside the bag to liberally finger his goods. The haul from the supermarket anyway. But he cannot resist your lame jokes and it ends the same as always. He cracks. A twitch of his lip, shaking his head and then an eye roll even Sam would be proud of.

“Other bag, Sherlock.”

“Ah-ha!” You grin when you switch to the other bag. Instead of fresh fruits and vegetables, you’re treated to food of the more processed variety. Plastic bags filled with crisps, a pie carton and, oh he really does love you, biscuits.

You slink back down to your screen, tearing the package open with your teeth as you do. Revitalised by the imminent influx of sugar. Dean sighs but doesn’t say another word. He picks up the rest of the groceries and carries them away. Presumably to the kitchen by the distant sounds of him putting everything away.

It’s another five minutes when he returns with a glass of milk that he puts down next to you. With a determined thump of glass on wood, as if the sound is an entire explanation.

“Thanks, but you know I don’t…”

“Take the damn milk.”

Normally you’d be irritated for being cut off mid-sentence, but it’s his exasperated tone that catches your attention. You even deign to look at him again, ignoring the popup that’s offering an extra 15% off if you enter your email. “You ok?”

He scratches at the scruff on his jaw while he tries to internally talk himself down from the ledge. “Nothing, nothing. Drink the milk, please.”

You look from him to the glass and frown at the white liquid. There’s nothing wrong with it per se. It looks like a perfectly good glass of milk, the kind you might see on a ‘got milk’ ad from the nineties. It’s not that you hate milk, you just prefer your biscuits to have a little bite. Dean should know that by now but if he’s forgotten then you are more than happy to remind him. “You eat your biscuits how you want, let me eat mine how I want.”

In your attempt to be rational you have failed to notice the desperation in his, 'please'. And now you’ve managed to tick him off.

“Cookies,” he grinds out.

“What?”

“They’re cookies. Dammit, you’ve lived here long enough to call a cookie a cookie.”

The outburst is not Dean’s fault. He’s not exactly hoarding MAGA caps and asking you to go back to England. No, this outrage is the product of a very specific joke that you might have taken too far.

Ordinarily, you switched back and forth between American and British all the time. As easy as breathing. You’d lived in the good ol’ US of A for long enough that your brain simply picked out the first word it could reach. A lot of the time it ended up being American without much intention, people understood better. 

And then a few weeks back you’d been on the way to a hunt, sprawled in the back seat. Despite the fact that you were still strategizing with Sam you were comfortable. You could have fallen asleep right there if Sam hadn't kept talking. The word had slipped out on a whim. You called Baby’s trunk a boot.

Dean—being an absolute drama queen—had slammed on the brakes and eloquently asked what the fuck you called his Baby. Apparently, it was the first time you’d said that particular British word.

If you hadn’t found his reaction utterly hilarious that would have been the end of it. Except you did find it funny. The way his face soured, that little crease in the middle of his brow, he was so offended by four little letters. It was beautiful.

Now it’s been a few weeks of very purposeful language choices. Asking to borrow his mobile to make a call, or to wear his hoodie. And you’ll admit the ‘pip pip cheerio’ as he left the bunker earlier had been excessive. That isn’t even a real thing people say.

You’ve been torturing the poor guy with British slang. And because this isn’t the first time you’ve taken a joke too far, you’d usually hold your hands up and apologise. You’re good at apologising. He likes when you have to apologise because you always make it worth his while.

The problem is, biscuit had been an honest-to-god slip of the tongue. It had been the most natural word for your brain to conjure and so his anger seems a tad unjustified. Utterly out of proportion.

“It’s a biscuit.” You repeat as you take a bite, noticing the way his left eye seems to twitch at the crunch.

“It’s a cookie. It says right there on the packet. It’s a fucking sandwich cookie.” He points at the ripped plastic on the table for emphasis.

You sigh with the kind of effort that forces all the air from your lungs. “This country can’t spell half the time, why should I trust the packet?”

“Because you’re eating from it.”

He’s got you on a technicality. And he knows it. He knows it by the telling pause before you speak and the flash of panic in your eyes.

“So?”

It’s not an argument that’s going to win world-class debates but you couldn’t go ahead and let him have the last word.

Dean's problem now is he thinks he’s got you on the ropes, so he goes and gets cocky. He puffs out his chest a little and bites back a smirk.

“So? So… cookies and milk is as American as apple pie-”

“Invented by the Dutch.”

“-whatever. It’s a thing. Which means you gotta sit down, shut up and drink your fucking milk.”

You always love it when he does that. Argues his way to a conclusion whether he’s right or not. It’s kind of ridiculously hot.

Or at least that’s how you justify putting your half-eaten biscuit down. Slowly rising from your chair and crawling onto his lap. You lean in, slow enough to tease him, letting your breath settle over his skin as you whisper in his ear. “I know a way we could settle this.”

“What’re you doing?” He manages between teeth that are grinding against each other. The muscles in his arms are tense where he’s pulling at the rope that holds him.

Any other night and you might calm him down at this point. Remind your good boy that he shouldn’t hurt himself. Or depending on the game you’d remind him who he belongs to, who he’s foolishly directing his anger towards. But there’s no soothing touches or harsh reminders bestowed upon Dean tonight. This game is different. This is a battle for dominance, unlike one you’ve played before.

For the first time, he wants to win as much as you do.

There’s no mutual satisfaction in the room because you’re both out for blood. Where blood equals being right about snack goods. And unfortunately for Dean, he didn’t figure it out before he let you tighten the ropes around his wrists.

“I thought that was obvious, baby. I wanted something sweet.”

His eyes flick between the glass of milk he’d seen you carry in and the cookies plated up beside it. Well, you’d call them biscuits but that’s not what this argument is about.

“Don’t you dare.” There’s a threat in his voice.

For a moment it surprises you and you’re quick to counter him, “I’ll do what I like.” Your tone is reminder enough for him to remember his place.

He retreats a little, gives an inch so that you can take a mile. A breath rattles through his chest doing little to calm his tightly wound body. At the very least, he switches anger for desperation. Dean knows you love it when he pleads, “please Princess. Please, I’m begging you. Dunk it.”

Your entire body glows a little when he calls you by your name. The change in his attitude only urges you onwards though, with a smirk turning up the corners of your mouth.

Your hand finds a treat, fingers picking it up with deliberate, delicate movements. His eyes are wide as he watches you hover the biscuit over the glass as if maybe you’ll appease him. The whimper he lets out when you bypass the drink is almost fulfilling enough that you’re no longer hungry. Almost.

The room takes on an eerie silence as you part your lips and take a bite. A loud, crunchy bite. Crumbs fall onto the table beneath you—probably in slow motion— and chewing only seems to increase the volume.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters as you swallow, “you’re crazy.”

You hadn’t planned on it but you walk across the room then, half a biscuit in your hand and a satisfied smile on your face. He’s slumped in his chair a little. He’s defeated since he knows he won’t defeat the knots keeping him in place.

“Come on, try it for me.”

“Go to hell.”

It's your turn to roll your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic, you’ve been to hell. This can’t be that bad.”

As you reason with him, you slide into his lap again, which will be torture enough because he can’t touch you. Except you also hold the biscuit to his lips.

“Please. For me. Be my good boy.” You coo as if you're not toying with him.

His thighs twitch beneath you at the use of his nickname and, because he’s always your good boy, he opens his mouth.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer