#CLEARLY THERE IS SOME DEEPLY BURIED TRAUMA BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM

[violexides]

so i finished turnabout succession, meaning i’ve watched all of the cases in aa4 excluding the first case - which i am considering watching at some point but likely in the distant future, seeing as trucy and klavier are not yet introduced in it and i already know the plot of the case. many thoughts on ace attorney 4 but i am just going to talk about klavier gavin real quick because. i need to.

[if you don’t want spoilers but are still reading these posts i’m REALLY going into spoilers so like. guys please]

i really wish Capcom had done more with klavier both in the sense of backstory but also in the sense of future games, since iirc he only appears once or twice in dual destinies and not at all in spirit of justice. what i CAN say though is that despite all this, they gave an amazingly written character to us - even if he, again, only predominantly exists in three cases.

i really cannot get over the tragedy of each one of them, though. turnabout corner, where he faces off and loses in a trial - his first trial returning to prosecuting - to the disciple/employee of his older brother. who aforementioned employee had imprisoned for murder. and he’s extremely kind compared to other prosecutors, willing to help out, and also among one of the most well-prepared ones. he’s fun and melodramatic and he doesn’t throw a fit at losing.

and then you IMMEDIATELY go to fucking turnabout serenade, where he has a concert in which basically everything goes wrong for him, including the performance not meeting his high standards and someone literally dying DURING HIS CONCERT. in which his guitar ALSO set on fire mid concert btw. and he’s very emotionally attached to them. and then you find out all this, on top of the fact that it was not only his second guitarist but his BEST FRIEND of at LEAST seven years who committed the murder. someone he deeply trusted, and he has to be the one to take him off the case and put him on the stand.

and then THREE MONTHS PASS, and he is put on the trial for the jurist system, a system created by phoenix wright. he knows from the start that despite his desires for a simple case, it’s going to be complex because of wright’s involvement. and then it turns out that the current murder provides insight into the events of seven years ago, a trial he had prosecuted on in which he got someone disbarred with information he shouldn’t have had and became CONSUMED WITH DARKNESS FOR SEVEN FUCKING YEARS to the point that he LEAVES THE PROSECUTION JOB TEMPORARILY. and then he is told, by apollo justice - former employee of his brother, frequent court rival, person who put his best friend AND brother behind bars, and current employee of phoenix wright the attorney that KLAVIER HELPED DISBAR - that the events that transpired seven years ago, when klavier was SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD, were manipulated by his brother. 

and he STILL wants to believe in kristoph. and that’s what gets me - we know next to NOTHING about these guys’ history. and yet we see it in everything - klavier and kristoph finishing each other’s thoughts as klavier fights harder than ever against apollo in the cross examination, klavier and kristoph showing superficial levels of affection that sink deeper for klavier but fall apart at the top level for kristoph, the respective distrust and resentment they have for one another, the fact that kristoph tells klavier to CALM DOWN and CALLS HIM USELESS and implies he’s IRRATIONAL over and over and OVER again even trying to THREATEN him into not saying anything - up until the moment that klavier says that it’s time for them to empty their family closet. 

up until the last line said in the court trial for kristoph gavin - in which klavier looks his brother in the eye and says “you are not needed anymore.”

and then it shows post credit scenes in which he’s like hey lol the gavinners are breaking up but i’m excited to go back into court again soon ^_^ LITERALLY HOW YOUR ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN RUINED BY THIS MAN . OR I GUESS LIBERATED . I HATE GAY PEOPLE 

anyway I love klavier gavin and we should have gotten more of him in later games but for now i’m going to go uhhh read fanfiction. or no shit i should do homework. read fic AND do homework. yeah :] 

[linkspooky]

I remember seeing a post how you headcannon Momo being a surrogate older sister to Mai, which I thought was so wholesome and yet so sad at the same time (sad due to Mai needing to find some sort of older sister affection after Maki cut her off)

Thus, I was wondering if you would like to expand upon/explain that headcannon in more details

Oh, and if we will get to see it in your future jjk fics

Momo being a surrogate older sister to Mai is something I enjoy, especially in regards to the friendship between the Kyoto girls Trio of Mai, Momo and Miwa. There's a lot of potential you could explore there. The difference between the way the Kyoto kids view friendship, and the way the Tokyo kids do.

They are a codependent mess of traumatized kids, but unlike the Tokyo Kids they tend to discuss their trauma out in the open and make an attempt to communicate with each other. There's also a theme of found family you could explore, or just in general how Kyoto Kids like Momo with Mai, or Miwa with Kokichi want to reach past the boundaries that sorcerers who usually fight alone have with each other and form closer relationships.

There's also a good theme of feeling a deep love for someone vs. the action of showing that love every day. When it comes to the difference between Mai's relatonship with Momo, and Mai's relationship with Maki it's Momo who actually buries Mai's body. Maki dumps her on the side of the road, because in that moment destroying the rest of the Zen'in is more important. I think that's emblematic of a lot of the tragedy of Mai and Maki's relationship.

To start out with, even in the one side story they're featured in, it's mentioned that the three Kyoto girls are oddly close because one sorcerers are naturally independent and two Momo is older than the both of them. On top of Momo stepping over a boundary for sorcerers that usually keeps them apart she also displays an overprotectiveness for her lowerclassmen.

When Miwa's heart is broken by Kokichi's death, it's Momo who feels the most for her sake. When Nobara is the one hurling insults at Mai and calling her the watered down version of Maki, notice how it's not Maki Mai's own older sister that's speaking up to try to defend her but Momo who takes Mai's side and tries to explain Nobara about the pressures Mai faces in the Zen'in Clan, and Mai's half of the story.

In a story where most of the characters avoid forming deep attachment or displaying sympathy (because Nobara's response to this is basically just "I don't have to sympathize with her if I don't like her), Momo goes against the current by deeply empathizing with both Miwa and Mai and not only stepping out of her shoes to understand their pain but also going out of their way to defend them.

Which is something that interests me about the Kyoto students, they all undergo the tragedy of growing close to one another, and growing attached, only to lose those attachments and mourn them.

Miwa is devastated by the loss of Kokichi, and Momo has to bury Mai's body but the only reason they mourn them so deeply is because they made the effort to grow attached in the first place.

Which is why I wanted to point out there is a difference in the way Momo mourns Mai, and the way that Maki mourns her. Maki calls Mai her heart, but doesn't bother to bury the bod and leaves her on the side of the road. Maki calls Mai her heart, but doesn't even know enough about Mai's life to know she was friends with Miwa. Mai apparently never told Maki anything, but Momo knows enough about her situation to explain everything she's undergone to Nobara.

Not to suggest Maki doesn't care, because clearly she does the loss of Mai makes her go off the deep end, but there's this interesting theme you could explore between the two of them in being there to show that you care, and caring at them from a distance. If Mai is Maki's heart, then much like the queen in Snow White she's put her heart in a box and buried her somewhere else to keep her own feelings at a distance because in the sorcerer world feelings / attachment = vulnerability.

As for future fanfic, there's a lot I want to do with the Kyoto Students during the culling games. My basic outline for my fics taking place during the culling games is to keep everything else the Tokyo kids do the same, and instead focus on what the Kyoto Kids are doing during that game.

Miwa and Momo have made brief appearances so far and both of them are incredibly ominous, Momo's face is not drawn and she looks incredibly melancholy (the deaths of Kokichi and Mai hitting her right in a row means she's probably not in a good place). Whereas when Momo appears onscreen she's calling Maki a monster.

Again, Momo's last impression of Maki is being handed Mai's corpse at the side of the road. She seems to be the only one of the kids who has some inkling of what happened to the Zen'in Clan.

For Fanfic I think it would be great to explore, not only what Miwa and Momo + the rest of the Kyoto kids are doing during the culling games, but also the way Miwa and Momo both mourn Mai because they're not Maki, and they haven't gone on a killing spree to avenge Mai. They're working through the weakness and pain of losing someone and not being able to do anything about it. They mourn Mai as a human being and an individual because they knew her a little better. It's also from an interesting perspective because both Miwa and Momo were too "weak" to protect her.

My plan more or less is to have Momo be together with Miwa during the culling games, and have them discuss their feelings and just try to do their part while just slowly breaking down, interspersed with flashbacks of how they grew close to each other. I also want to include Noritoshi Kamo who has also lost his chance to reform the Kamo clan and bring his mother home. They are all at this point feeling like everything they tried to protect they failed, and they want to throw their lives away for the good of the group, but they have to learn to live with the losses instead, because no matter how strong they grow, life is a series of constant losses and you can't hold onto everyone forever no matter how much you want to.

My culling game fics are going to focus ALL on the Kyoto Students, and the bonds between them including my headcanons for how they interacted during their school days, so please look forward to them!

[spilledkauffie]

Still Having Nightmares

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1.8k T/W: nightmares, trauma conversations, fluff A/N: MY HEART IS FUCKING BROKEN!!! Do you hear!? All because of this gif set— spoilers!

Song inspo: Nightmares - All Time Low

You squeezed your eyes closed, trying not to let the tears fall. But they weren’t for you— from outside the door, down the hall, and into the living room, you heard the soft mumbling. The desperate “no’s” and the heavy breathing. Rolling over in bed, you placed your hand where he often began the night, right next to you. Knowing he liked to fight this struggles alone, you methodically bit at the inside of your lip, furrowing your brows. 

However, when you heard the static of metal tension, you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Sitting up, you tossed the covers aside. Taking a moment to calm yourself, you quickly wiped the tears off your cheeks and took a deep breath, wanting to be in the best state to help him. Opening the bedroom door you stepped out into the hallway gently. Attempting to make your footsteps as light as possible, you made your way to the living room doorway. Bucky was laying on the opposite side of the apartment’s room from you. 

Watching him toss and turn, sometimes jolt, was difficult, but you always tried to think of how best to help him if you could. As you debated waking him up to end the night terror, something did that for you- hearing him yell your name he completely sat up. You blinked back some tears, hating that you knew his nightmares forced him to see himself losing more than he already had. 

“God-” he exhaled as if he had been forced to hold his breath for five minutes, it was a painful first few breaths. Shoving his hands through his hair, he set his elbows on his knees and tried to steady his breathing, he clearly hadn’t seen you yet, “shit,” you heard him say in a broken voice, though you couldn’t see them, you knew there were tears from the way he sniffled with an inhale every other breath. 

You shifted your weight onto the opposite foot, accidentally catching his attention.

“Hey,” he suddenly said as if nothing had happened, quickly turning his face away from you, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes, trying to get rid of any proof of tears. Clearing his throat he exhaled, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Tilting your head with a heavy sorrow that he just wanted to push everything aside, you reached for the light switch.

“No!” Bucky exclaimed, before looking down, surprised at his tone, “no,” he said softer, looking back up at you, “can we leave it off? Please?”

“Yeah,” you answered hoarsely, feeling a tightness in your own throat, “of course, baby.”

Walking over to where he was, you settled on the floor, sitting next to him, facing his direction. There was just enough light from the apartment windows for you two to see each other in dim lights streaming in. He tried again to subtly brush away any tear stains, while you joined him. Pushing the top of his wrist against his lip, he dropped his hand, and finally turned to you. 

“Did I-” he swallowed, you saw the tension in his jaw, “did I wake you?” 

“No,” you whispered, raising a hand to fluff back some fallen strands of his messy hair.

“Really?” he perked an eyebrow, “then why are you awake?” 

You hold your breath trying to think of an excuse, but you’d rather say nothing than lie to him again. 

“I didn’t mean to leave tonight, I just-” he quirked the corner of his lips, trying to find the right words, “I’m not used to it, but I didn’t want to leave- I just-”

“I know,” you assured him, free hand touching his forearm, calmly stroking his chilled skin.

He dipped his head shaking it, before giving a disappointed laugh, “you know I thought I was over this,” he admitted, your hand still brushing soothingly through his hair as he stared straight ahead, you swore you could see him thinking of another time. 

“Tell me about it?” 

He pressed his lips together, debating if he wanted to say more, so you let the quiet come between the two of you, and that was okay. Time was needed and you were more than willing to wait for him.

“You know sometimes I can see myself, at different times, and I just keep thinking- when I see that kid, signing up for the army, he looks at me,” he smiled for a second, but it faded faster than it came on, “he had no idea what he was signing up for.” Looking down to the metal replacing his arm, Bucky nodded to himself,  blaming himself for it all.

“Victims never do,” you said, “because it’s not their fault.”

“Victim?” He scoffed, raising his eyebrows in disbelief at you, “have you seen my count-”

“Bucky, what they did to you-”

“But what I did to others-” he started.

“What they did to you,” you repeated, more firmly, stopping him from interrupting you, he waited for your next words, “what they did was cruel and monstrous, but that doesn’t mean you are.” Bucky tilted his head, “you signed up because you’re a brave soldier, what came next was out of your control, but now, you’re back on the path you first started.”

His grey blue eyes were fixed on you when you finished, “tell me about tonight’s nightmare?”

He was quiet again, so you pressed your hand against the middle of his chest, covering his dog tags, before you curled your fingers around the metal and glanced down to study them in your palm. Rubbing your thumb over the raised letters- one tag spelling out his name the other simply saying “Winter Soldier,” you bit the corner of your lip. Bucky never took his gaze off you, studying you studying the tags. 

After a moment of silence, he leaned in closer, slipping his hand against the side of your neck, fingertips pushing into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, while he brought his mouth to the opposite side. You tightened your hand around his dog tags as his skin brushed against your knuckles. With the way his chest was already rising and falling and the hum of his moan against your neck, you almost got lost in it. Slowly moving his other hand up your thigh, to your hip, you felt the metal, smooth and cold as ever. Closing your eyes, you focussed for a moment on his hot desperate kisses, his lips felt so good against you, but you knew what he was doing.

“Bucky-” you said softly, but seriously, knowing what you needed to do.

“Mhmm?” he hummed, lips ghosting against you as he waited for you to continue, but when you didn’t, he pulled back to look at you, his hand still caressing the nape of your neck gently.

You stared at him, amazed at how well he was trained to shift from emotion to emotion or just hide them altogether. It seemed wrong that there was so much pain and hurt in you form sympathy when he was the one actually fighting through it. As you stayed silent, his gaze fell to your parted lips. Bucky took his opportunity and met your mouth with a deeply passionate kiss, when you hardly responded he paused the kiss, lips still touching yours as he spoke.

“What is it?” he asked, caressing your cheek.

“I love you so much,” you took a deep breath, placing your hand on top of his and bringing it away from your cheek setting your interlaced hands in your lap, looking back to him, “but that won’t make them go away,” you stated eyebrows knitted together, shaking your head softly, “I need you to talk to me,” you stroked his jawline with your thumb, still holding his hand with your other, and speaking as gently as you possibly could, “so we can work this out together, I want to help you, I want you to be able to stay a whole night with me.”

Taking his hand off your thigh, you heard the metal adjust as he shifted his weight onto it.  

“Alright, in my nightmares. . .I keep hurting you,” his words broke the silence, “different ways, I tell myself it’s not me, it’s that shadow I used to be, but all the same in the end.” 

Listening carefully you placed a soft kiss to the cooled skin of his shoulder, where the scars met metal, encouraging him to continue with gentle stroking motions of your fingertips on the back of his hand. 

“Every time. . .I’m in a place from my past, but you’re there,” he confessed, tightening his grip around your hand, “and you die, all because of me.”

“You’d never hurt me.”

“But I did...I do,” tears were returning and he didn’t understand; the one happiness in his life was being twisted by his past and his mind, he remembered certain things, others a blur and now past and present were blending. . . 

“James,” you brought him to face you with your hand against his cheek, “you’d never hurt me.”

“I’m just-” he said cautiously.

“Bucky,” you said almost disappointed he’d question himself on this.

“I’m just scared I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from hurting you,” he confessed in a louder voice than intended, making you jerk back, but keeping your hand in his helped ground him, “I’m sorry,” he said, calming himself down. 

You could see the tears falling even if he didn’t want you to see them.

“There’s no chance of that happening,” you pressed your forehead against his, “I know you, Bucky, you love me.”

 “But you’ve seen it, if- if someone knows those words- with that book- they reset me and I can’t-” 

You heard him exhale, heavy with pain and hurt and panic. His chest began to rapidly rise and fall. 

“Bucky, Darling,” you moved yourself closer and brought your arms around him, to which he responded by wrapping his around your frame, pulling you even closer, and burying his face against your neck, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”

Feeling his hot tears against your neck, and his erratic breathing, you tilted your head up, trying not to cry yourself. Stroking across the back of his bare shoulders, you softly combed your fingers through his hair, embracing him against you. It wasn’t easy for him to show this much emotion and you could sense that, staggering breath and long periods of tension, as if he was trying to hold it all back. Feeling him tighten his hug and squeeze his eyes closed, you just held him to let him know it was okay.

“We’ll get through this, I promise,” you whispered, “no one is ever coming near you with that book ever again, and if they do. . . now they’ll have to get through me first.”

Pulling away from you just enough to press his forehead back against yours he smiled softly, staying there for a moment, “how’d you get so tough, huh?”

“I live with a fighter,” you smiled back, “he’s taught me to survive just about anything,” he gave a small laugh with his smile spreading, “so together,” you stole a kiss, “I know we’re unstoppable.”

[dendrite-blues]

For a relatively short exchange, this scene is jam packed with characterization for Loki. 

It’s also our first reliable look into what Loki was like before Thor 1. Not as described by others, but first hand and from his own mouth. I think that deserves a closer look, to see what we can learn about Loki and how he thinks.

This scene is significant because it tells us what Loki’s personality is like when he’s not running for his life. It tells us who he was before his trauma and what his core beliefs are underneath those layers of humor and bravado.

Better yet, since he’s alone we can assume that every line in this scene is presumably true, or at least Loki believes it to be true since he has no audience but himself. 

The dialogue centers mostly around the statement “You deserve to be alone, and you always will be.” I’m not going to focus too much on the “alone” motif since I already dedicated an entire meta post to it.

What I think is more interesting about this scene is actually the looping, and the stages Loki goes through in trying to deal with it. There’s a lot of really interesting character traits on display in that progression.

Loop 1: A Warm Bath and Glass of Wine

The first loop entails Sif lecturing Loki about cutting her hair, kicking him in the balls, and storming away. Loki kneels on the floor and he gives us this great line:

“A bad memory prison? How quaint. Some punishment. I remember exactly what I did after that. I went and had a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine, and I never thought about it again. Because it was just a bit of fun.”

So we can take this to be Loki’s default reaction to pain and criticism. When put into an unexpected conflict without any forethought or outside influence, this is what he says/does.

1) Downplay the damage/threat. How quaint. 2) Dispel/soothe the emotion. Nice hot bath. 3) Minimize the impact. Never thought about it again. 4) Deflect responsibility. Just a bit of fun.

Keep those in mind as we move forward, since we’ll be using them to make sense of what else Loki says in this scene.

Loops 2 and 3: Okay, Sif, Hang On

This bit is about Loki realizing just how bad his predicament is.

L: Okay. Okay, Sif. Hang on. S: No, you hear this. You deserve to be alone... And I always will be. L: Alright, I get it. Listen. You are a reconstruction of a past event created by the organization that controls all of time. So you need to trust me and you need to help me escape. Yeah? S: Pathetic. (she kicks him again) L: (winces and groans)

As we all would expect from him, Loki’s first impulse is to try and talk his way out of it. What he says to achieve that goal is pretty revealing though. Because he doesn’t try to ease Sif’s upset by apologizing or explaining or offering to magic her hair back. 

Any of these would have been more likely to save his nads in the given circumstance, right? The present threat is Sif, and she’s mad about what Loki did to her hair. But Loki doesn’t really see that. Rather, he treats her as a means to an end.

“So you need to trust me and you need to help me escape. Yeah?”

To me, that choice reveals something of a blind spot Loki has to the feelings of others. Even if he doesn’t actively like hurting people, he does prioritize their problems below his, and quite shamelessly. And at least on his first impulse, he doesn’t seem to feel much remorse or empathy for them.

Usually in fanon we attribute this callousness to his trauma. He’s learned that no one can be trusted and no one cares, and so he doesn’t allow himself to care for others. 

But between his Loop 1 sentiment of “It was just a bit of fun” for an event which caused real hurt to Sif, and his Loop 2/3 behavior of “you, stop being mad and help ME” I think it’s reasonable to say that selfishness/low empathy are traits Loki possessed pre-trauma.

Loop 4-????: Happens Off Screen

It’s unclear how many times Loki loops while the camera is following Mobius, but the implication is clear that it was been many, many repetitions. Somewhere in this his denial and deflection must break, because we come back to a much humbler, more pleading Loki.

The Final Loop: I Crave Attention

S: You conniving, craven... L: Sif. Sif. S: ...pathetic worm. L: Please, please, no more. Please, I beg you. I'm a horrible person. I get it. I really am. I cut off your hair because I thought it'd be funny. And it's not. Uh... I crave attention... because I'm... a narcissist. And I suppose it's... It's because I'm scared of being alone.

HOOO BOY, so this is quite a tough bit to analyze. There’s a lot of interpretations you could make, and a lot of topics to delve into. For the sake of focus, I’m going to ignore the narcissism question. That one really needs an entire post, and I want to focus on something else here.

That being, Loki’s way of processing conflict/punishment.

I’ve always found it strange how Loki takes such pride in being called a liar and cheat when he simultaneously has this chip on his shoulder about how nobody likes him. 

Those two traits don’t seem to play well together, and I always scratched my head over how they coexist in his character. If he wants people to be nicer to him, maybe he should stop antagonizing them? Yeah?

Well, here we’re finally given a clear reason. Loki craves attention, he hates being alone. So how does he avoid it? Pranks and mischief. 

Fair enough.

But then, if all his pranks lead to this outcome--outrage, retaliation, insult--why doesn’t he ever learn? How is it that after 1000 years of this behavior, he hasn’t found a better way to get the attention he craves? 

Loop 1: Downplay, dispel, minimize, deflect. He accepts zero accountability for the impact of his actions, and doesn’t think at all about how they affect other people. Just a bit of fun. I had a hot bath and a glass of wine, and never thought about it again. 

The only reason he reaches the level of self awareness on display in the Final Loop is because the looping forces him to contemplate his actions and the impulses within him that lead to that behavior.

This is projection on my part, but to me he acts as though this kind of deep reflection is a new thing for him. He sounds like someone sharing a revelation that he’s just had about himself. We’re being shown that Loki is a man of action. He will always move forward if he can, possibly because looking back to so painful that he can’t bring himself to do it.

Circling back around to the pride Loki has for his knavery, let’s suppose that he’s been on this negative reinforcement cycle since childhood. He’s always acted out to get attention, then received retaliation and insults for it, and then pushed the bad feelings out of his mind with creature comforts and mental gymnastics.

What happens over time, when you’re being constantly told that you’re a pain in the ass and no one likes you? Most of us would take it to heart, but Loki doesn’t. He has a big ego, big enough to resist that constant barrage of hate coming at him.

So how does he marry these two conflicting realities? 

He turns it into an identity, the God of Mischief. 

In his head, Loki excuses himself of blame by shifting the culpability to his moniker. It’s not that he’s immature and petty, he’s just a “trickster.” It’s in his nature to cause trouble, so he can’t help it. You wouldn’t dangle a steak in front of a tiger and blame the tiger for striking, would you? And if other people can’t take a “joke” then that’s not his fault, that’s on them for not having a sense of humor. It was just a bit of fun.

Here we see the union of these two halves of Loki, the lonely ice runt and the mischievous scamp. (And a little bit of the original Loki who Thor accused of being incapable of growth!) 

By refusing to think about others, and excusing himself from responsibility, Loki successfully preserves his self worth and insulates himself to most of the negative emotions he experiences.

Pain, embarrassment, and grief aren’t pointless emotions though. They are vital feelings that serve to regulate our behavior, and that push us to conform to the ways of our social circles. Without them, we annoy and upset others. Be annoying for long enough and you will eventually find yourself, well, alone. As Loki is.

Thus “Mischief” is a self-defeating loop, and Loki is just as caught in it as the cell Mobius trapped him in.

In order to be free of both traps, Loki has to stop running. He has to take a deeper look at himself and realize how much he is getting in his own way. The entire scene is one big parallel between these two “loops.” Pretty neat, huh?

Sadly these kinds of thought loops are really difficult to break, they’re buried so deeply in our personalities and habits that we usually don’t notice them until life forces us to address them.

The cell is Loki’s wake up call, and thankfully he does seem to rise to the occasion. He tells Sif quite clearly what his problem is, and he does it with beautiful, painful honesty.

Which is why it’s so fucking awesome for Mobius to acknowledge that, and to finally give Loki a taste of positive attention. 

You don’t deserve to be alone. I believe you can be anything, even something good. Whatever you two did, it was powerful enough to bring this whole place down.

It’s a beautiful scene. Well written, meticulously acted. The clarity of vision in the pacing and shot selection, it’s really something special.

[pinkja]

Comfort (Dina x Reader x Ellie) Modern AU

In which an uncomfortable family visit leaves Ellie and Dina picking up the pieces.

(Quick note, this was just suppose to be a request but it got personal really quickly and it’s… a lot like it’s a lot. But hey! I’m back writing again!)

Tw for some implied abuse and childhood trauma

—

The smell of pancakes overwhelmed your senses as you shifted awake. You could feel the sunlight on your skin as your arms peeked out from under the covers, stretching above you as you sat up. With a yawn that lasted way too long, and your eyes barely opening, you fought the signs to go back to sleep and slipped out of bed, socks protecting your feet from the cold floor.

Your king sized bed was empty that morning, two of it’s usual patrons starting their day earlier, leaving you with a small feeling of emptiness without them. Scratching your stomach, you walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth, stepping on one of your girlfriend’s pants that you would make sure to scold them for later if you cared enough to figure out who the pants belonged to. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you were finally able to see clearly and be somewhat present in reality. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightclothes, your day off being a perfect excuse to ignore appearances. As you got closer to the kitchen, the smell of food got stronger, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten a while, stomach growling at the prospects of being filled.

Must be Dina, you thought as you opened the kitchen door, suspicions proving correct as you were met with the back of your girlfriend, ponytail swishing as she hummed a tune while putting freshly cooked pancakes on a plate. She turned around slightly, brown eyes meeting yours and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Overcome with the sudden urge to hold her, you wrapped your arms around her waist and mushed your cheek against hers. Dina let out a little giggle, leaning into you as well.

“Well hello to you too, (y/n).” There was amusement in her voice as she took in your sleepy form. You sagged against her with a huff before smiling.

“Morning, Dina.” You let go of Dina and turned around, coming face to face with your girl Ellie.

A pout formed on her face when your eyes met hers. “Damn! I was trying to scare you.” Auburn hair fell in front of her eyes as she deflated dramatically. You laughed, allowing Ellie to pull you into her as an apology.

“I’m sorry, babe. You gotta be quicker than that.” You said into her neck, kissing her on the cheek. She tickled your sides a bit before leaning on the counter, although she never let you go.

“Ellie and I were about to come and check your pulse.” Dina joked, bringing three plates of pancakes towards the kitchen island before continuing, “What time did you come in last night?” You scratched your cheek, digging through hazy memories.

“I didn’t leave the office until 12 because I was checking Annie’s manuscript for her.” You didn’t miss Dina’s scowl or the way Ellie’s grip got a little bit tighter. Whether it was from the mention of Annie or the fact that you got off so late, you didn’t know. “So I didn’t go to bed till 1:30-ish.”

“Annie’s always asking something from you. I don’t know why you keep indulging her.” Dina said with a roll of her eyes. Ah so it was the former.

“She’s just busy, Dina.” You tried to defend your friend, but no matter what you could or would say, she was no good in their eyes.

“And so are you, babe.” Ellie piped up. “You have your own work to do, and the longer your fixing everybody else’s mistakes and yours, the longer you’re away from us.” Ellie let go of you, grabbing utensils from a drawer and sitting two chairs away from Dina, leaving the middle open for you, like always. “All we’re saying, babe, is that you’re too nice.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the statement.

“Me being ‘too nice’ got you two a girlfriend so I don’t understand what’s the issue.” You quipped. Ellie held her hands up in defense, shrugging you off. You sat in between them, Dina wrapping her arm around your shoulder once you were comfortable.

“Ok, baby. We’re sorry. Just make sure you get enough rest today, hm?” You nodded, your good mood returning once your girls planted a kiss on your cheeks.

Once you all were done eating, Dina spoke again. “Ellie and I are gonna be out pretty late tonight,” she said while you were collecting everyone’s plates, “but Ellie should be back earlier than me. Do you think you can handle dinner tonight.” Dina asked you. You looked down at the plates, frowning a bit as you put them into the sink.

Your change in demeanor wasn’t lost on the pair, who looked at you in worry once your attention wasn’t on them.

Ellie spoke up, “I got it, Dina. I shouldn’t be too long anyways.” Dina nodded, sparing you one last glance before getting up from her seat.

“Wish me luck you two. Jesse’s hounding me about turning in these pictures on time even though I only have half of them ready.” Dina said playfully, kissing Ellie before walking up to you and kissing you on your temple. You gave her a small smile and started to wash the dishes, the jingle of Dina’s keys ringing in your ears as she left. Usually Dina and Ellie would drive to work together, but you told Ellie she could have your car since you weren’t going anywhere.

Once the door to the apartment closed shut, Ellie stood up and walked over to you, grabbing a dry rag from the stove and going to dry the clean, wet dishes. Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but hesistated on her words. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” You spoke low, and Ellie could tell you were becoming uncomfortable.

“When Dina asked you about dinner you kinda… I don’t know… froze up.” You turned off the water, handing coming up to brush the hair out of your face. You didn’t answer her. Ellie continued. “And it’s not the first time it happened. You do the same thing when we ask you about –“ Ellie stopped mid-sentence, watching as you gripped the edges of the sink and your palms turned white.

“It’s nothing, Ellie.” You said curtly, effectively ending the subject. “I’m fine.” You whispered, moving to walk away from her. Ellie grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back towards her, in the same position as earlier. She started to sway the both of you side to side.

“Look, I’m sorry ok. I just wanted to see if you were alright… We just notice things sometimes and I hope you’ll be able to talk with us about it in the future.” Ellie kissed you on the cheek, letting you go and walking around you. “I’ll be back soon, ok? Get some rest, baby.” Ellie ordered, calling out a quick I love you, as she walked out the door.

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your right temple and walked out to the living room, deciding to listen to Ellie and relax for a bit. Sitting on the couch, you practically buried yourself into one of the corners and brought your knees to your chest, curling yourself into a ball and grabbing a cover left there from the previous night to put over you. You turned on the TV, hoping to find something to watch and occupy your time. You soon found yourself, however, flipping through all of the channels, realizing that all of the sounds started to blend into one monotonous tone, letting your focus slip away from the screen.

After a third look through the channels and a trip through Netflix’s entire catalogue, you decided to shut off the TV and try reading. There were always series that you always wanted to check out but were too busy with work to start. So you grabbed the first book you laid eyes on in the bookshelf next to the TV, sat down in the same spot as before, and opened the book to the first page. As you went through the pages, you realized that you were looking at the words, but weren’t registering a thing, causing you to reread the pages again and again, but to no avail. Something in the back of your mind told you to stop this. Stop this and find something useful to do. So you did.

You shut the book with a huff and neatly placed it back where you found it, just like you were always taught to do. You looked around, eyes trying to spot something to do to occupy yourself. They landed on a basket of laundry in the hallway, small, but enough to last for thirty minutes or so. You grabbed it and sat on the couch, taking your time in making sure the corners were perfectly aligned, and there wasn’t a wrinkle shown. This process, when not completed properly, activated this deeply instilled instinct to start the entire basket over and over, unfolding the clothes and folding them again and again. Once you were done and your fingers were numb, you put the folded clothes back into the basket and dragged it to your bedroom to put them into the dressers.

Once you were done with laundry, you tried to find something to silence the voice in the back of your mind that was telling you to find something to do. You looked around your bedroom, trying to find any little thing out of place. You picked up the pants that you stepped on earlier, replaced dirty cloths and towels with clean ones, cleaned the tub and the toilet and the bathroom sink, and even made the bed three times over. And as you stared at your newly made bed, you felt the urge to sleep again compelling you. But that little voice in the back of your head told you that sleep wasn’t necessary, that you need to do something useful.

So you continued cleaning. You cleaned dust that wasn’t there. You organized books that looked fine from the outside. You picked up little papers that no one would notice and swept imaginary dirt off the floor. You even wiped the tables and walls and organized your pantries. And no matter how much you cleaned, you told yourself that it wasn’t enough, that you were just–

Wait… why did this feel so familiar?

You scratched the back of your head, trying to figure out why you felt like you’ve done this before. Were you always this… picky?

No, you weren’t. But something must’ve happened to make you feel like you weren’t doing anything right, and that everything had to be perfect. You chewed on your nail and walked back to the kitchen, ignoring the voice screaming at you to get back to work. Eyes darted all over, landing on the clock that read 5:30. Damn, you said to yourself, how long was I cleaning for?

“Ok, (y/n). I know you can find something to do. Anything.” You muttered, catching yourself before you can start biting your nails again. You looked at the fridge and froze. “I could always make dinner…” You tried to tell yourself, but your body wouldn’t move. “Come on, (y/n). Try and be a good girlfriend for once.” You willed your body to move, your need to be considerate after your girlfriends worked hard overpowering the fear of doing something wrong. You opened the fridge, peering inside to see what you could make. You decided to make some beef stew, finding it such a simple task that even you couldn’t possibly mess this up.

Getting out the meat, some carrots, onions, potatoes and peas, you cleaned the meat first, washed the sink thoroughly afterwards, and cleaned the vegetables after that. You spent about five minutes deciding what pans to bring out and use, and after gaining your confidence again and deciding, you sautéed the beef in some oil first, then added some seasoning to the beef, put water and beef broth in a larger pot before putting the beef in the pot.

Ok, you told yourself, the first and hardest part is over. Now all you needed to do was just put the stove on medium and leave it for the next hour or so.

Your nerves were calming down just a bit as you walked back into the living room, fidgeting in place as you sat down on the couch. The serenity didn’t last long, however, as you began to feel like something was nagging at you. Goodness gracious, you had never been this on edge before.

Well… that’s not true, you retracted.

Truth is, the only time you ever got this worked up was when a family member visited you, and it always got worse when your mother graced you with her presence. But that’s absurd! Your mother was across town, too busy with her own things to ever visit you. Hell, you didn’t even know if your mother even remembered where you lived, not like you were complaining. A part of you hoped that she did forget. You chewed on the pad of your thumb absentmindedly, a habit you’d thought you kicked after leaving for college, nervous.

You’re fine, you tried to reason with yourself, you’re ok. She’s not even near you. She’s probably at home, watching the news or chastising someone on the tiniest things and you’re probably just overreact–

There was a knock at the door.

You had never snapped your head up so fast before, eyes wide and thumb starting to bleed. The knocking continued, more frequent this time. You peeked at the door from your place on the couch, fear locking your body in place.

It’s probably just the mail, you told yourself.

“(Y/n)? I know you’re in there!” It was not. Every nerve in your body felt like it had been broken and set on fire, body burning incredibly hot and going numb at the same time.

“No, no, no, no, no! Why is she here?” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to hide from the newcomer. The knocking continued despite your efforts.

“(Y/n)!” You jumped at the change in tone, an all too familiar one that caused you to get up from the couch and walk to the door despite everything telling you not to. Your breath hitched at the click of the door as you turned the lock, opening it to reveal your mother standing there, smiling.

You finally found your voice after a few seconds, stuttering out a, “Hi…Hi, mama. What’re you doing he–” You were cut off by the burning gaze of your mother. You stepped to the side without another word, absentmindedly straightening your shirt and fixing your hair.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to leave guests waiting so long? I thought I raised you better than that.” You bowed your head at the scolding, muttering out a small apology.

“H-How’d you find me, mama?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you really didn’t, but you knew it was too late to take it back.

“Your sister told me you had today off so I thought I’d stop by.” Her hair swished as she set her sights on different things in your home, allowing herself to walk into your living room and sit down on the couch. You followed her, hoping that everything was to her liking. Your mother crossed her legs as she sat, and you mirrored her, sitting on the other end of the couch. “When was the last time you vacuumed the floor?” Your mother stared down with a frown as she lifted her foot up to look at imaginary dirt. You didn’t bother giving her an answer, knowing that now that she’s started, she won’t stop finding things to nitpick.

You tried to change the subject. “I… I appreciate you visiting, mama. Would you like something to drink?” You stood as soon as she said yes, feeling uncomfortable with how quickly her eyes settled on your entire form.

“Hold on now.” Her words stopped you from moving to the kitchen. “It’s almost six and you’re still in your nightclothes. You should know better by now.”

You bowed your head once again, wanting so badly to go back to biting your thumb and cry. “I-I wasn’t expecting anybody, mama. I–”

She didn’t let you finish, saying, “Why don’t you wear that dress I sent you last month. Oh that would look so pretty on you!” You fidgeted with your shirt once again, wiping your sweaty hand on the back of your shorts.

“I can’t fit that mama. It’s too… small…” You whispered the last word and hoped that she wouldn’t hear you, but she did. Your mother let out a scoff, rolling her eyes and dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

“Goodness gracious, (y/n)! I just bought you that dress and you’ve already gained weight? Maybe you need to cut down a bit, yeah? You’ve always had a problem with eating all day.” You just nodded, turning and walking into the kitchen to fix her some water. As soon as the door shut behind you, you placed your head in your hands and let out a shaky breath, heart beating fast and a ringing in your ears. You wanted to curl up and cry like a fucking baby.

Was this a punishment of some sorts? Have you done something wrong lately and this was just a fucked up attempt to get you back for it? What the hell did you do to deserve this, huh?

Dragging your hands down your face, you wiped your eyes and moved to fix your mother a cup of water. Unfortunately, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you fixed it, and you had to set the cup on the counter and take a breather. Ok, you told yourself, breathe. You can make it through this. She’ll be here for at most an hour, right? By that time Ellie and Dina would be home and–

But they’re working late today…

Your heart dropped at the fact, foot tapping on the ground as you tried to find a way out of this. If they’re working late you don’t have an excuse to make her leave, meaning she could torment you for hours on end, judging and nitpicking every little thing you do. You considered calling them, but the voice in your mind told you that you were pathetic for not being able to take care of your problems on your own.

It’s just your mother after all.

You didn’t register that your mother was coming until the kitchen door opened, and you straightened yourself before grabbing the cup of water off of the counter.

“What’re you cooking?” Your mother asked, peering into the covered pot on the stove.

“B-Beef stew.” You stuttered as she took the lid off the pot and looked inside.

“You don’t even have any celery in here.” She said as she closed the pot. “And are you sure you put enough seasoning in there? Your stew has no scent to it. No one wants bland stew, (y/n).” She looked around again, trying to find something to pick on.

“Ellie doesn’t like celery, mama…” You mentioned, although you could’ve sworn you didn’t say anything at all, as the woman had no reaction to your statement.

“Make sure you wipe off this counter. You’ve been at home all day and yet your house still looks a mess. Just lazy…” Your mother shook her head as she grabbed the cup from your grip and walked out of the kitchen. You watched as the door slammed behind her, a lump in your throat and your body tingling all over. Your nose made an ugly sound as you sniffed, grabbing a rag off the counter and vigorously wiping it. Your eyes darted to the now boiling stew on the stove, all your fears from earlier resurfacing.

What if you weren’t doing this correctly? What if Ellie and Dina didn’t like the food? Would they chastise you for wasting ingredients on something so horrible? Will they think of you as ungrateful for this? For knowing that they worked long hours every day only for you to treat them like this? If they think your cooking is terrible, who knows what else they think you do wrong. Maybe they don’t like the way you talk or dress or carry yourself or the dates you bring them on. Maybe they don’t like the way that you love them. Did they think that you loved them at all if your love was so horrible?

Did they love you?

That question caused you to shake. You didn’t notice your breathing picking up speed as you dwelled on the question more and more. You could feel the panic set in and you tried to find something to focus on. You tried focusing on the ticking of the clock, your foot tapping against the floor, the steam coming out of the pot. Something, anything to bring you back down to Earth.

“(Y/n)! What’s taking you so long?” Your mother’s voice snapped you out of your panic, although momentarily. In a pathetic display of sadness, your lip started quivering and you let out a whine, not wanting to go back into the living room and let her judge you again. You tried to speak, tried to say something to stall her for a few seconds, but nothing came out. You found yourself wiping your eyes, your feet dragging across the floor into the living room, your body willing itself to move despite your mind’s screams of protests. You peeked your head around the corner, not meeting your mother’s eyes.

“Yes, mama?” God your voice was awful.

“Come sit down.” It was an order, not a suggestion, that much you knew. Your mother wasted no time in speaking again as soon as you set down. “Do you remember that neighbor we had when you were in middle school? Mr. Allen?” You remembered, yes. The man was around your aunt’s age, older than your mother with grey hair and a pot belly. He lived several states away though. Your mother started up again before you could respond. “Well his son, Will, is looking to move up here in the Fall, and I told him you’d be happy to show him around the city when he comes up in a couple of weeks.” Your eyes widened as you stared at her.

“Mama I don’t even know Will like that. I can’t show him around–”

“Nonsense, (y/n)! You two were always hanging out and playing together. I’m sure he’ll love to see you.”

“Mama–”

“And since that dress I bought you doesn’t fit I’ll buy you a new one. And you’ll also have to get your hair done. You look like you haven’t washed it in weeks.” She took a strand of your hair in between her fingertips and pulled. Your head moved even if she didn’t use much force.

“Mama, please. I don’t wanna–”

“Shut up, will you. You’re a grown woman and I think it’s time you settle down already. Will is a nice man and you should be happy he wants to go out with you.”

You pulled away from her, tears pooling up in your eyes. “Mama, I’m already in a relationship and you know that!” She grabbed and pulled on your hair again. Her eyes narrowed at you, and suddenly you were a child again, being stared down by her as she scolded you for something, anything.

“Stop complaining, dammit. This is happening whether you like it or not. And I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Another pull of your hair, less forceful this time, but enough to get the message across. She let you go and stood up, wiping imaginary dirt off of her skirt. “I’ll give him your number later. I expect you to answer him.” And with that your mother was gone, door slamming behind her. You were left on the couch, scalp stinging and a ringing in your ears.

You thought you had escaped this. Escaped from her. Is this really how your life was going to go? You would get a tiny sliver of freedom and happiness and it would be taken away from you every time your mother finds you again? Would you able to even call your life yours?

You didn’t notice you weren’t breathing until you found yourself choking back a sob, hunching over as you tried so hard not to throw up. Soon you were crying, tears falling down your lap as you wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. You don’t know how long you sat there crying, cradling yourself like a sick baby. You even missed the whistling of the pot of beef stew in the kitchen and the turn of the door knob that came later.

“Babe, why is the door unlocked?” It was Ellie. Her voice was faint and you didn’t even register her presence.

Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed together when she didn’t get a response. She shut the door behind her, locking it afterwards. She was sure she locked the door this morning. Did (y/n) go out earlier and forget? Ellie placed her keys on the hook by the door and kicked her shoes off. “Babe?” She called out again, walking to the living room. She was met with your shaking form, cradling yourself and mouth screwed shut in an attempt to silence your cries. Ellie ran to you and grabbed you by the shoulders, sadness and confusion in her eyes as you recoiled from her touch. Ellie crouched in front of you, not knowing what to do with her hands. “(Y/n), baby, what’s wrong? What happened to you?” Your head snapped up once you registered her voice, tears streaming down your face.

You pulled Ellie down by her shoulders and wrapped your arms around her, practically screaming, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” like a mantra. Ellie didn’t know what you were apologizing for, and she was certain you didn’t know either. Ellie reluctantly wrapped her arms around you, allowing you to plant your face in the crook of her neck. “I tried, I tried to, I tried–” You stammered, grip on Ellie getting tighter and tighter.

“(Y/n), what happened to you?” Ellie pulled you away from her and cradled your face in her hands.

“I tried to–…I tried to do right, I really did but I couldn’t stop her I’m so sorry.” Your words slurred together as Ellie wiped your face with her thumbs.

Ellie couldn’t tell who you were talking about but tried to calm you down as best as she could.

“Baby, take deep breaths, ok. Can you do that for me?” You shook your head no, another sob leaving your mouth. “Please try at least. Please.” You let out a shaky breath, gripping Ellie’s shirt in your hands. “Ok, that’s a start. Now breathe in. Just a little bit, ok?” You followed her instructions as best as you could, throat making a weird sound as you inhaled. Ellie continued to wipe the tears from your eyes, as you repeated the steps until your breathing was in sync. “Ok, that’s good, (y/n). You’re doing so good.” The worry never left Ellie’s eyes. She was about to say something else when the whistling of the pot on the stove grabbed her attention. “I’m gonna be right back, ok.” You didn’t acknowledge her speaking as your eyes glazed over, staring right past her.

Ellie walked briskly to the kitchen and peeked inside, seeing a pot with the lid slightly ajar, steam rushing out of the opening after who-knows-how-long of being unchecked. Ellie grabbed a few rags off the side of the counter and moved the pot to a different stovetop, turning the stove off afterwards. She returned to you and sat next to you on the couch. She called your name a few times, but you didn’t answer her, not until she shook your shoulder and squeezed your arm a bit. Your head snapped up, and Ellie swore she could see fear in your eyes. “Did you forget that you had something on the stove? It’s not like you to forget something like–” Ellie stopped speaking as you burst into tears again, apologizing over and over again, for the food, for the house, for yourself even. Ellie didn’t know why you were apologizing, but she wrapped her arms around you anyways for comfort that you so desperately needed. God, Ellie didn’t know what to say, or really what to do at this moment. She felt useless for that.

“Baby, I’m gonna call Dina, ok?” You only continued to cry, tears staining Ellie’s paint-covered shirt. Ellie reached into her pocket for her phone, finding Dina’s contact and tapped her foot as she waited for Dina to pick up. Dina answered on the third ring, sounding exhausted after a long day.

“Hey, Ellie–” Ellie didn’t give her time to speak.

“It’s (y/n), Dina. She’s freaking out and I need you to come home. Now.” Ellie placed her free hand under your shirt, finding your skin to be burning up as she rubbed your back.

“Freaking out? What happened?” Ellie could hear the shuffling of papers as Dina collected herself.

“I-I don’t know. She can barely get a word out without crying, and she had left the door unlocked and something on the stove and–” Ellie caught herself rambling and took a breath. “Every time I try and ask her about it she breaks down again and I don’t know what to do. Just… come home, please.”

“Give me 15 minutes, ok.” Dina’s voice was muffled a bit as she yelled to Jesse about an emergency. Ellie hung up soon thereafter, dropping her phone on the couch and cradling you in her arms. She started humming a song that you had always liked, hoping it would calm you down a bit. You cries soon turned into whimpers, and she lets you wipe your tears on her shirt. Ellie spoke up after a few more minutes.

“(Y/n)?” You hummed, sniffling and unable to speak. “Let’s go lay down, ok. Dina’s going to be home soon.” You could only nod. Ellie got up and pulled you up with her, leading you to your bedroom. Ellie laid down near the wall, opening her arms for you. You crawled into her arms, burying your face into her neck. Ellie continued to hum that song, her mind coming up with a million scenarios as to what could’ve happened. She wanted to ask you so badly, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and cause you to cry again. She wasn’t good with words, that was more of Dina’s specialty. But she hated seeing you cry. She hated seeing you sad at all. Your smile was the best thing to her, to Dina as well. And to see your smile go away because of… because of something, pissed Ellie off.

A few minutes later, Ellie registered the squeaking of the bedroom door as it opened and shut. Looking up, Ellie met Dina’s gaze as she carefully walked over to the bed and sat down beside you. Ellie could see the hesitation on Dina’s face as she raised a hand to touch you. Ellie gave her a little nod when Dina’s eyes met hers again, and felt you flinch when Dina placed her fingers on the nape of your neck, an action that you had usually found comforting.

“It’s just me, honey.” Dina tried to hide the hurt in her voice at your rejection of her touch. Dina placed her free hand on your shoulder and turned you on your back. Dina’s heart shattered at the utter helplessness on your face. You looked so… broken, and Dina prayed that she would be able to fix it. “Baby… baby what’s wrong?” Dina talked slowly and softly, rubbing your temple with her thumb. Goodness, your skin burned. You didn’t speak yet, only letting a few tears out of your eyes. Ellie and Dina quickly wiped them away. “Take your time, sweetheart.” Dina added, taking a hand in yours. Ellie placed her hand over Dina’s. The shared contact was comforting.

“I… I–” You took a deep breath, closing your red eyes. “I’m sorry…” You finally whispered. Dina furrowed her eyebrows, a frown forming on her face.

“What for, hun?” Dina spoke again. You opened your eyes but didn’t look at them, keeping your gaze on the ceiling.

“For me.” They had almost missed it. You had said it so quietly. Ellie was about to protest, Dina could sense it. Dina shot her a look, not wanting her to scare you into another outburst. Ellie pursed her lips, grip on Dina and your hands tightening just a bit. You continued speaking after a bit of silence. “I wish I could do better for you guys.” They could see the tears well up in your eyes again.

“What brought this on, (y/n)?” It was Ellie who spoke this time. There was a tinge of anger in her voice.

“My mother.” You had finally let out, blinking your tears away. “She, she came over and–” You looked at Dina. “She found me, and I don’t know how. I really, really don’t.” You sounded like a child who’s about to break down. “And I–I… she told me that I had to um, I had to go out with this old neighbor of mine and I felt like a child again because she made me question myself and doubt everything I do again and I couldn’t do anything to stop her and–” You were talking quickly through tears and a cracking voice, free hand gripping the sheets below you. “I’m so sorry I can’t be a better girlfriend for you. I’m so awful. I couldn’t even make dinner because I was so caught up in everything! And I know how hard you both work and yet I–” You took a deep breath as your tears blurred your vision. “I can’t even make a simple fucking meal and I couldn’t even say no to my fucking mama.” You said the word with such contempt despite your crying, and you turned and buried your face in Ellie’s chest. Probably to hide yourself from the world. You were crying again, and your girls quickly wrapped their arms around you for comfort. Both of their grips tightened on you, angry at the woman for making you feel so broken, angry at the world for being so cruel to you.

“My sweet, sweet girl.” Dina cooed, rubbing her nose into your cheek. “You aren’t awful, or a bad girlfriend. You’re the best thing that could’ve ever happened to us. Whatever that, that woman,” Dina wanted to call her much, much worse, “said or did to make you feel this way will never, ever be true, and I promise you that I will never let her speak to you or even come near you ever again.”

“Besides, I’ll burn this whole world down before I let some stranger or that bitch touch you again.” Ellie did not give her that same generosity. Ellie removed your face from her chest and gently wiped your tears away. Dina placed her hand on the back of your neck and gently scratched your nape. “Do you believe that?” Ellie asked softly. You nodded, although with some hesitation.

“We’re so sorry that we weren’t here for you when you needed us, baby.” Dina said as she turned you on your back. Her hand danced across your stomach to grab at your waist. “I promise you, baby, we won’t let anyone hurt you again, ever.” Your girl said it with such conviction and her eyes held so much love for you. It overwhelmed you and you could only nod once again.

“Th–Thank you. The both of you… I’m sorry I worried you–”

“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n).” Ellie interrupted, tracing patterns on your jaw.

“I know, but I never told you about her because,” you paused, and they waited patiently, “she’s a part of my life that I tried to forget, and with her everything had to be so perfect, and in the long run it just wasn’t good for me, you know?” You rubbed at your left eye in an attempt to prevent more tears from flowing. Ah, it’s clicking now. Why you were so adamant about making dinner earlier. Why you could be so worried about every chore you did or constantly doubted yourself over the simplest things.

After so long of picking up the pieces of your broken childhood, your mother had tipped you over and shattered every piece of resolve you had.

Your girls swore to put you back together again.

“Baby, we won’t ever put you through something like that again, ok? You don’t have to worry about us nitpicking at every little thing you do because it doesn’t matter.” Ellie told you. She rubbed her thumb in circles right below your ear, helping you unclench your jaw.

“If you’re ever uncomfortable with doing something just tell us. We won’t be mad or upset at you for not wanting to do something, because we love you. Something as simple as not making dinner won’t change that.” Dina kissed you on your forehead, giving you a small smile. “You believe that right, that we love you?”

For a moment your doubts from earlier arose, but seeing no type of contemp from them towards you pushed those thoughts away.

“Yeah, I believe it.” If possible they smiled even wider, peppering kisses all over you until you let out a laugh, giving them a shove until they settled beside you.

You felt secure in their embrace, knowing that they would do everything in their power to protect you, and would kill someone before letting anyone hurt you.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[glimmerglanger]

I really liked TS - I thought you treated some potentially very icky issues on power and abuse between Ben and Jango with thoughtfulness. Are you taking requests? Because if so I have some! (I also sometimes struggle with fic requests because clearly, as the author, you ended the story where you thought it was best to be ended...but we are greedy creatures...) I’m very curious about the Jedi that Jango delivered as bounty - Dooku? Does that come into play when Jango delivers an ass whooping on Qui-Gon? I would also love to see the first time they’re intimate post freedom, maybe from Ben’s perspective? And maybe a moment when Jango hears what’s happening with the new mandalorians vs death watch? I feel like he would be conflicted, but make a conscious decision to stay out of it. So! Many! Thoughts!

Thank you! I am generally into doing snippets after long fics. I like playing in the space for a while, it brings me joy. I decided to did into Ben’s POV on them getting intimate the first time. 

This takes place roughly two years after the ending (or three years before the coda). Jangobi. SPICY. Not Safe For Wizards. Mentions of past trauma, but no major warnings. It’s mostly Ben thinking, honestly.

~~~~~~~~

Ben relearned how to want things slowly.

Sometimes, on particularly bad days, he wondered if he’d ever known how to want things in the first place.

He couldn’t be sure, one way or the other, and, really, it didn’t matter in a practical way, so he left the thoughts slide away. Instead, he spent his time learning what kinds of food he wanted to eat, what kinds of teas he wanted to drink - he no longer had to rely solely on what was brought to him - and how he wanted to sleep…

He learned how to want all those things. Basic things. Things other people probably knew how to want automatically, and--

Sometimes, his head got so loud, so noisy with memories of why he didn’t. The weight had a way of pressing down on him, crowding into his throat and his chest, smothering and thick. He learned, before they ever landed on Yulion, that Jango made that go away.

Jango felt things...strongly. He had since the first time they met, when he broadcast a need for help so clear and sharp that it had cut through everything else. He’d felt like a drowning man, thrashing around desperately.

Ben had been taught how to help those drowning, in another life. Received warnings that, if you got too close to a foundering soul, they could push you down, as well, unintentionally and in a panic. Those drowning often drowned uncautious rescuers. But that wasn’t a good reason to allow someone to perish.

Jango had radiated a desperation for help, so Ben had helped him.

He still did, sometimes. But there was something...below that need for help, ever and always. Ben didn’t have words for exactly what it was that he felt from Jango, as they lived together. But it made his chest warm and achy. It chased away the tightness in his throat and the memories in his head that made him want to pull himself to pieces.

He could press close to Jango and feel, with certainty, that he was wanted. Safe. Secure. Jango used the word ‘love’ for how he felt. That felt like a good descriptor, Ben decided, eventually. It was...warming and wonderful. Ben wanted to pull it all around himself some days, some nights, after nightmares.

Jango seemed happy enough to let him. When Ben requested that he keep feeling that way - haltingly - he always went still, and Ben could feel him trying to modulate his surface emotions and it was--endearing. Ben could not find a way to tell him that the underlying base of what he felt didn’t change, anyway.

Perhaps someday he’d find a way.

He hadn’t, by the time he realized he was learning how to want other things. The realization slipped in slowly, as the two year anniversary of their arrival on the planet eased closer. He found himself watching Jango more, as he cooked or cleaned his weapons, found himself aching oddly as they spoke softly together after getting Ani to sleep, found himself breathing faster, when Jango curled around him - body and feelings - in bed.

They’d been married almost a year. He’d expected, at first, that Jango would become impatient with waiting for him. But he seemed content enough to...handle things himself. Ben felt it, distantly, when Jango touched himself in the fresher, the twist in his emotions and wants a shining kind of beacon.

The first time Ben idly imagined joining him, his cheeks flushing at the thought, he ended up standing outside, staring up at the sky and dragging a hand back through his hair. Ani followed him out and insisted they play tag, which, at least, thoroughly took Ben’s mind off of matters.

But the thoughts recurred. The wants returned, even when Jango wasn’t feeling any particular wants at all. Which meant, Ben was increasingly sure, that the desires were his own.

Ben shivered, considering the scope and breadth of what he felt. It was...strange. But not unpleasant. His gut flooded with warmth, the next time he leaned in to kiss Jango, something they did, occasionally. Ani was sleeping, safe and snug in his bed, his presence in the Force gone slow and peaceful with dreams. 

And Jango felt--so good, his mouth and his hand, curved against Ben’s cheek, his wants and emotions curling out between them. No one else had ever felt the way he did. It was one of the reasons Ben had so much difficulty classifying the emotions he picked up.

Those thoughts fled, in the moment, as Ben settled closer, warm all over, fingers tangled in Jango’s hair. They’d been on the couch. Ben had been reading, he thought, before he started kissing Jango, and--

And he couldn’t recall why he cared what he’d been doing. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, changing the angle of the kiss, and Jango made a sound against his mouth, shifting a little closer and then checking his movement. 

Jango pulled back, blinking a few times and turning his face to the side. He cleared his throat and said, “I think I’m going to hit the fresher,” like a code, as though Ben didn’t know exactly what he planned to do in the fresher, and--

“Don’t,” Ben said, the word slipping out as he reached out, curling fingers around Jango’s wrist.

“Ben,” Jango said, his voice thick. He glanced over and said, eyes all dark, “I’ll come back. I just--”

“I’d like you to stay,” Ben said, wetting his bottom lip without thinking about it. “Or--for both of us to go. Maybe to your room.”

Jango stared at him for a long beat. “You want to be held?” It was a fair question. Ben often did. 

His heart beat a little faster in his chest and he said, feeling a flush creeping over his cheeks, “No. Not really. I want--” He shifted closer, slid his hand over Jango’s thigh, and Jango sucked in a breath when Ben found him hard “--to help with this.”

“It’s--that’s--” Jango swore and visibly marshalled himself. “You don’t have to. I’m perfectly capable of handling it on my own, so--”

“I know I don’t have to,” Ben cut in, and there was a giddy kind of joy to hearing the words and knowing they were true. He could feel that Jango meant it. “I want to. Do you want me to?”

The question felt silly, for a beat. He could feel how much Jango wanted, could feel what he wanted; hands on skin and mouths brushing together and soft gasped sounds. “Yes,” Jango told him, swallowing hard, “I do--” And Ben leaned towards him, and his fingers were in Jango’s hair, then, his mouth sliding against Jango’s, warm and welcoming.

Jango wanted, so badly. Ben felt it, shivering as Jango slid a palm up Ben’s thigh. Ben managed to get a hand under Jango’s shirt, on warm, familiar skin, as Jango rasped out, “Ani could wake up.”

“I’ll know if he does,” Ben murmured back, reassuring. Ani felt deeply asleep. Content and safe. “Please.”

Jango made a ragged sound, and Ben was willing to admit that perhaps adding the please had been slightly unfair. Jango wanted him to have the things he wanted. And that was--heady, as Jango pulled him into a kiss, one Ben was delighted to melt into, the pair of them slowly sliding sideways, until they were sprawled out on the couch. 

It didn’t take much effort to undo the closures on Jango’s slacks. He was hard, his cock familiar when Ben curled fingers around him. Jango made a ragged sound, kissing across Ben’s cheek, to his jaw. Jango’s beard rasped against his skin, a flare of sensation as Ben shifted his grip, tilting his head back, aching, thinking about the best way to bring Jango off and--

“Do you want--” Jango broke off, shoving up on one arm, eyes dark and breathtaking. “Do you--” He shifted his hand, fingers dragging down Ben’s stomach and, oh. Ben had barely realized he’d gotten hard, himself. “Can I…?”

“Please,” Ben rasped out, again, and took Jango’s wrist, pushing his hand further down, enough that he could rock up into the pressure. Jango swore, quietly, and tugged at the closures on his pants, radiating want and--

Feeling someone want, more than anything, to make him feel good was something Ben had not been able to imagine, a few years ago.

It made his spine arch, made him groan, made him hard and aching and wet and--

“Gonna take care of you,” Jango rasped, and kissed him again. Ben nodded, half-senseless all at once. He could feel that Jango meant it. Jango had meant it for so long. Tried and succeeded and--

Ben buried his fingers in Jango’s hair, when Jango shifted down his body, bit his lip to muffle the sounds he wanted to make, somewhat, at the touch of Jango’s mouth over his skin. He was so close to the edge already when Jango licked across the head of his cock, mouth warm and hot and unexpected and--

Ben felt himself rock up; he felt electrified, throbbing and so full of wants and demands from his body. For a moment he wondered if Jango had somehow learned how to read wants, too, because he bobbed his head and slid a hand between Ben’s legs, thumb brushing back and forth, so perfect.

Ben went off like a shot, like the blasters Jango had insisted on teaching him to shoot, barely able to strangle out a sound. Jango swallowed, and Ben made a ragged sound, feeling good and achy at the same time, inside of his body, a whisper of other wants getting louder.

He set them aside, focusing enough to hear Jango breathing raggedly down by his hips. He’d turned his face against Ben’s thigh, muscles tense, an arm stretched back. Ben managed to raise his head enough to watch Jango jerk himself hard and fast, emotions flashing over all hot and good and buoyant when he came.

For a moment, they just slumped there, breathing heavily. “Oh,” Ben managed, finally, tingling from head to toe. 

Jango snorted, cheek still pressed against Ben’s thigh. He shifted, wiping his hand on his shirt and then, with a little frown, pulling the shirt off and mopping it across Ben’s stomach. He asked, voice all warm and thick, “Was that...what you wanted, Ben?”

“Mm.” Ben nodded, trailing touches over Jango’s skin. “Yes,” he said, and then, learning all kinds of things, “I want to do it again.”

Jango’s head snapped up, and Ben couldn’t help but smile at the expression on his face. Jango said, tone darker, “You…?”

“Now,” Ben told him, “I want to do it again now.” And Jango made a hoarse noise, falling into him, kissing him while Ben wrapped both arms around him and just...felt, for a while.

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Twenty Seven

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 6.7k+

Warnings: Fluff, angst-ish?

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor

This Part: Alex and Kara finally leave their cell at the DEO and Emma settles into life at Lena's apartment.

So sorry this took so long. Had a very hard week but hopefully this chapter is okay! Not gonna lie I laughed out loud a few times while writing!

p.s It's been six months since I started posting on tumblr 😅 That went quick!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom, @crispykidcookiebasketball

“Nice form Alex.” J’onn comments as he enters the gym, watching as she continuously attacks the punching bag.

“Letting out some steam, you know?” Alex says while doing a few jabs.

“Oh I do. Come on, I have an assignment for you.” J’onn nods his head to the gym door and Alex dutifully follows.

“What kind of assignment?”

“You’ll see.” He holds the door open for Alex to step through, revealing Emma’s apartment, with the Superfriends gathered around the sofas.

Alex walks through and they all immediately look up.

“Alex!” Greetings are yelled happily and Sam comes skipping over to her.

“Hey babe.” Sam grins and leans in for a kiss, capturing Alex’s lips. The redhead responds enthusiastically and wraps her arms around the brunette.

“Al-EXXXX!” A voice whines at the pair.

The redhead immediately stops and gapes at the familiar voice.

“Babe?” Sam asks with a frown on her face. Worried about Alex’s reaction.

Alex quickly turns to Emma, snuggled into Lena’s arms. “Ah come on! You did the same with Lena and I!” Emma laughs and grins at her sister. Lena chuckles and kisses the top of Emma’s head.

Alex shakes her head and smiles back. Feelings of love and happiness stir within the Director as she quickly makes her way over to her baby sister. Kara kneels on the sofa to grab a hug as Alex passes. The redhead quickly embraces her other blonde sister but keeps her eyes on Emma. Whose chatting and joking with the group. Her bright laughter rings clearly around the room.

When Alex steps back from the hug with Kara Emma jumps to her feet and closes the gap between them. Launching herself at the redhead and wrapping her arms around her.

Alex happily sighs, smelling Emma’s vanilla shampoo as she buries her head into her mass of wavy blonde hair.

The sisters pull apart when suddenly there is a loud gunshot. Alex spins around, trying to find the source of the noise. The Superfriends gasp and yell. But they are all staring with wide eyes at Alex. Causing the redhead to frown and her eyes darting to each person in the room.

“Al-” Emma's gurgled voice makes Alex immediately turn back. The redhead’s eyes widen at the increasing bloodstain on her sister’s t-shirt. “Why?”

“Emma!” Lena screams as the blonde begins to collapse.

Alex manages to catch Emms and goes to place her hand over the wound. Put instead finds a gun in her hand.

“What?”

“You shot her.” Brainy says accusingly, his eyes blazing with anger.

“No, I-”

“But, you did.” Nia spits out, shaking with anger.

“We all saw it.” Sam’s furious eyes stare into Alex’s.

Alex glares down at the gun and drops it. She tightens her hold on her baby sister and presses down on the wound. Trying to stop the seemingly endless flow of blood.

Emma gurgles out in pain as blood dispells from her mouth and more and more blood oozes from the wound.

“No, no, Emma, hold on okay?” Alex says quickly while pressing even harder over the wound.

“Al.” Emma croaks out. The redhead’s gaze shifts to Emma’s half closed hazel green eyes. Her breathing becoming progressively laboured. Her face turning increasingly pale and losing all colour.

“No, Emma, please.” Alex sobs as Emma gasps for breath. Until finally she stills. Her eyes staring at nothing.

“Emma!” Alex yells, trying to bring her baby sister back. “Emma! I’m sorry! Emma!”

“Alex?” A muffled voice calls out to her.

“Emma!” Alex yells again and shakes her unresponsive baby sister. Her head flopping side to side from Alex’s movements.

“Alex.”

“Emma please!” Alex weeps and holds her close to her chest.

“Alex!”

Alex’s eyes fly open and focus on Kara staring worriedly down at her.

“Alex?” Kara asks softly, trying not to spook her agitated sister. “You're okay. It was just a dream.” Cautiously the blonde reaches out and rests a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder.

Alex sits up and puts her head in her hands. Breathing deeply to try and calm her racing heart.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kara asks softly as she rubs Alex’s shoulder.

Lowering her hands, Alex brokenly stares at her sister. “I- I shot her.”

“Who?”

“Em-” Before Alex can finish her baby sister’s name she bursts into tears. Hiding her face from Kara.

“Oh Alex.” Kara wraps her arms around the distraught redhead and swallows deeply. Trying to hold in her own emotions that are threatening to overspill from Alex’s cries. She feels Alex’s muscles tensing but soon loosen and somewhat relax into the embrace.

Kara eventually manages to calm Alex down and persuades her to lie back down. They don’t go back to sleep. Thoughts from the past few weeks infiltrate their minds. Instead they just hold each other and listen to each other’s breathing.

The sisters don’t know how long they stay laying there when the doors swing open. Eliza, Sam and Lucy walk through with bags of food and a drinks tray.

“Goooood morning!” Eliza beams at her daughters. “Happy release day!”

Lucy snorts and places the drink tray on the table. Sam is also smiling but it slowly fades when she notices how tired they both look. The bags under Alex’s eyes and the haunted presence within them.

“You guys okay?” Sam asks softly.

“Tough night.” Kara responds vaguely as she sits up and stretches.

Sam frowns slightly and places the food on the table. Kara immediately zooms over to it and opens the first bag. The corner of her mouth lifts up at the sight of the box of sticky buns. She grabs it and zooms back over to Alex and hands her one.

“Thanks Kara.” Alex slowly sits up and indulges in a bite of the still warm sticky bun, causing a little moan to escape at the sweet taste. Sam smiles at the noise and holds out her coffee cup, which the redhead takes with a grateful smile.

She blinks as she remembers the part of her dream where Sam treated her like her girlfriend. Alex’s cheek starts to colour when she thinks about their kiss. In an attempt to hide it Alex takes a long sip of her coffee.

But soon Alex’s mind shifts and is filled with blood seeping from Emma’s torso and mouth. Slowly she lowers the cup and glares at the sticky bun in her hand. Her appetite promptly disappeared. However, she knows it will raise questions if she doesn’t finish it.

Especially from her Mom.

Reluctantly, Alex lifts the bun to her lips and she starts taking bites out of it. Trying to chew even though it feels like she is eating sand and not a sweet, sugary breakfast.

“-you think Alex?” Lucy’s voice brings Alex back into the room. The redhead’s eyes dart between the four women who are looking at her expectantly. They had pulled the chairs from the table over to the bed with Kara sitting next to Alex.

She quickly swallows the food in her mouth. “I’m sorry, I must have zoned out.” Alex says apologetically. “What were you saying?”

“It’s okay, the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet?” Lucy jokes lightly. “I was saying I’m planning to have a housewarming party tonight.”

“We think it will do you both some good, spend time with those who love you.” Eliza looks pointedly at both her daughters.

Sam’s eyes drift down to Kara’s hands, noticing how she is almost breaking her  cup with how tight she’s holding it.

“Will, umm, will-” Kara goes to fiddle with her glasses but soon realises they aren’t there, so runs her hand through her hair.

“Will Emma be there?” Lucy finishes for her and both sisters nod. “I communicated with her yesterday and she wants you two to decide.”

Alex feels her shoulders sag as she stares down at her lap. Weighing up the pros and cons for seeing her baby sister again so soon. She is desperate for things to return to normal, but part of her is unsure if they ever can. Emma’s swollen face as she was dying under her hands still haunts Alex.

“Will there be precautions in place? Like a dimmer or-”

“Kara stop!” Sam interrupts the nervous Superhero. “It’s been weeks since there was any trace of R.K in your system. You’ve proven over and over that you both are of sound mind.”

“And if it makes you feel any better J’onn has agreed to watch over you.” Eliza takes a deep breath as Sam slouches back into her chair. “But Sam is right. You both need to start moving forward. The three of you need each other.”

Alex lifts her head and focuses on Kara. They silently communicate, something that used to drive Eliza up the wall. Especially how easily Alex and Emma could know what each other were thinking with just a quick glance. Regularly plotting pranks and mischief.

The sisters look back at the three women and they nod.

“Great! It’s gonna be really chilled! A few games, food, that kind of thing.” Lucy says eagly, waving her hand around to emphasise her point. The sister’s just nod again, their expressions remain hesitant.

Eliza silently sighs as she finishes her croissant. Disappointment spread across her heart. She had been so hopeful after witnessing her daughters’ interaction the other day.

‘Just a small step back.’ Eliza tries to reassure herself. She has been seeing her own therapist to work through the emotions and trauma she experienced. Wanting to be there for her daughters.

Sam tips her head back as she drains the last of her drink and throws it across the room at the bin. It lands perfectly inside causing a smile to grace Alex’s face.

“Bet you can’t do that again?” Alex challenges and hands Sam her empty cup.

“Alex, you know it’s completely useless to bet against a Kryptonian? Right?” Kara rolls her eyes and chuckles at her sister, who just shrugs and watches Sam.

“I need to know what we’re betting on.” Sam twirls the cup in her hand.

“How about dinner?” Lucy suggests before taking a big bite of her bear claw, challenging Alex’s glare.

Sam raises an eyebrow at the redhead. “I make the shot you pay for dinner?”

“You miss the shot, then you pay for dinner.” Alex smirks and ignores the wide eyes Lucy and Kara are giving each other.

Sam keeps her eyes on Alex as she flings the cup behind her. It lands perfectly in the bin, not even touching the sides.

Lucy and Kara burst into loud cheers and Eliza smiles with amusement.

“Looks like you’ll be paying.” Sam says cheekily and stands from the chair. “I’m sorry to leave but I need to head into work.”

“Aw, can’t you stay?” Kara pouts, enjoying the morning's entertainment. At least something was working out well for them.

“Unfortunately not. Lena has today off and we need a senior member in the office due to the backlog.”

“What backlog?” Alex tilts her head at Sam’s response.

“Things have picked up recently.” Sam says lightly and picks up her bag. “Busy, busy, busy!”

She quickly gives everyone a hug, pausing longer as she wraps her arms around Alex.

“See you tonight!” Sam grins at them before rushing from the room.

They watch her whiz away and Alex’s eyes dart to Lucy. “What backlog?”

Lucy subconsciously shuffles in her seat from Alex’s questioning gaze. “As Sam said, things have been busy recently.”

“But-”

“Alex, it’s okay.” Eliza quickly cuts her daughter off.

The redhead shifts her jaw to the side, not liking how her Mom interrupted her. She looks down as Kara’s hand gently holds onto her, trying to keep her calm.

“Good morning ladies.” J’onn’s voice causes the women to look at the door as he marches towards them.

“Morning J’onn!” Kara calls, waving and smiles at him as he sits in Sam’s occupied seat. He greets them all with a small smile, Alex can’t help but notice his smile widens slightly when his eyes connect with her Mom’s. Or the fact they keep holding eye contact.

“So!” Alex slaps her hands together, breaking whatever was going on between her Mom and J’onn. “Have you decided when we can return to work?”

J’onn sighs and leans forward in his chair. “We think you should take a few more days off-”

“J’o-” Alex immediately begins to interrupt him. Her blood starts to heat up as her frustration builds. But J’onn holds his hand up to stop her and continues.

“-just so you can settle back into life outside of these four walls.”

“And what about me?” Kara’s grip tightens slightly around Alex’s hand. The redhead squeezes back.

“The city has been quiet recently, but, any major incidents I will come out with you.” J’onn says reassuringly and Kara nods. Knowing she cannot go against the other alien.

J’onn turns his attention back to Alex. “We will do daily reviews and return you back to your post as soon as we can. You have my word on that.”

Alex bows her head and takes a deep breath.

“We can do this. Together.” Kara says passionately and Alex places her other hand on top of her sisters.

“Together.”

-- -- --

Emma slowly blinks her eyes open as she feels someone shifting next to her. Trying to get out of her arms.

“Sorry love, go back to sleep.” Lena’s voice coos softly as she strokes Emma’s cheek with the back of her hand. Her eyes travel up and down the blonde’s toned, naked form. Grabbing the blanket she covers her girlfriend but gasps as loving hazel green eyes open and lock on hers.

The corner of Emma’s mouth lifts sleepily and she raises her hand to softly cup Lena’s jaw.

“Ek!” Lena yelps as Emma uses her other hand to pull Lena on top of her, kicking the blanket off and curling her legs around the raven haired beauty. “Emma!” Lena laughs and squeals while Emma repeatedly plants kisses around her face. Eventually Emma stops and runs her fingers up and down Lena’s exposed back. Feeling the scratches she placed there last night during an intense moment of Lena using the strap on her.

Lena sighs happily but knows she needs to get up and raises herself up while still laying on top of her girlfriend. Her still very naked girlfriend. “What are you smirking about?” Lena tilts her head, her hair falling partly over her face, causing her to try and blow it away.

Emma lets out a puff of air, laughing at the raven haired beauty and tucks the offending piece of hair behind Lena’s ear.

“Thank you.” Lena bows her head and places a soft kiss on Emma’s lips. The blonde instantly deepens the kiss and Lena chuckles but regretfully breaks it. “Sorry love, I need to do a bit of work.” The CEO apologises and slides off of Emma, trying to ignore the pout and puppy dog eyes Emma is no doubt giving her. One look and Lena would promptly jump back into bed.

She quickly dresses into her underwear, a pair of Emma’s sweatpants, t-shirt and grabs one of the hoodies on the way to the kitchen. Lena can’t help but grin at the clothes that had been thrown around the apartment from last night.

Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge Lena makes her into the home office. Taking a few sips Lena sits and starts up her computer to start working through the many emails and paperwork that has been waiting for her.

Barely an hour has passed and an instant messenger notification pops up on her screen.

Sam: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

‘Uh oh.’ Lena thinks but quickly writes a vague response.

Lena: What do you mean?

Sam: Why are you online and have been working for almost an hour?

Lena: I just wanted to get some work done and will be finished soon.

Sam: Bullshit! I am logging you out of your computer. Go spend time with Em!

Lena: Sam Arias if you even-

The CEO scoffs as her computer logs her out before she could even finish her threat. Knowing there was no point trying to attempt to log back in, Lena stands from her desk chair. She stretches and heads back into the living room.

Music draws her attention to the kitchen and she smiles widely at a clothed Emma who is dancing along to the radio while chopping up some food. As she draws closer Emma lifts her head up and beams at her, making Lena’s knees become like jelly.

“What are you making?” Lena glances at the many ingredients on the island.

“Omelette. Do you want one?”

“Please.” Lena sits on one of the stools and watches as Emma grabs another pan and the eggs. “So, has Lucy confirmed what’s happening tonight?”

Emma nods and places the knife down to sign. “They agreed I can come too. So that’s positive! Coffee?”

“Yes please.” Emma quickly turns and grabs Lena’s favorite mug and fills it from a cafetiere. Placing it in front of Lena, Emma gets back to her tasks of making their omelettes. “Thank you and yes that is good news.”

Emma nods and smiles at her girlfriend, almost causing Lena to choke on her coffee.

Oh don't you dare look back

Just keep your eyes on me

Emma looks at the radio and starts bobbing along to the song as she mouths the words.

I said you're holding back

She said shut up and dance with me

Lena giggles as Emma starts putting on a show for her, shaking her hips and ridiculously mimes along.

This woman is my destiny

She said oh oh oh

Shut up and dance with me

Shutting the hob off Emma dances around the island and holds her hand out to her girlfriend.

“Em! You know I can’t dance!” Lena whines and pouts.

“Oh I’m sorry! Do we have an audience in the apartment I don’t know about?” Emma motions around the room and scrunches up her cheek.

“Fine.” Lena takes Emma’s hand and allows herself to be pulled from the stool. Emma takes her other hand and they start dancing together. Lena feels embarrassed. Knowing she can’t move as well as Emma but the blonde doesn’t care. She wraps an arm around Lena’s waist and holds her other hand, twirling them around.

“Emma!” Lena laughs loudly and lets go of the blonde. Allowing herself to move with the music, no matter how silly she thinks she looks.

When the song ends Emma gently kisses her lips and pats her ass. She goes to head back to the hob and continue making their food. But Lena grabs her hand and pulls her back. Placing a passionate kiss on her girlfriend’s lips.

Although Emma can’t make noise Lena knows how she is feeling by how Emma’s body moves against her. The way her hand gently caresses her face and the other runs up and down her body. Emma has always been tactical, something Lena struggled with at first, especially when she first met Kara. But now, Emma’s touch is everything.

Breakfast forgotten Lena starts pushing Emma onto the sofa. Causing Emma to let out a breath of surprise and grin up at the raven haired beauty before Lena straddles her. They reconnect their lips and start moving as one, unable to get enough of each other.

-- -- --

Hours later Kara is flying around the earth for an unspecified amount of time. She just wants to be left alone to think and enjoys the feeling of the sun on her face.

“Supergirl?” Winn’s voice crackles through the comms link in her ear.

“Yes, Winn?”

“Lucy wanted me to remind you it’s almost six.”

“And where are you?”

“At Lucy’s.” Kara can almost hear the ‘duh’ in her friend’s voice.

“Who else is there?”

“Everyone other than you, Lena and Emma.”

Kara tilts her head in confusion but steers herself in the direction of National City. “Okay, I’m on my way. Does Lucy need me to pick anything up?”

“Nope, just yourself.”

“Alright. See you soon.” Kara ends the link and takes a deep, steadying breath through her nose. Her jaw clenches and she tries to go through the calming exercises Doctor Jackson has taught her.

Feeling a bit more grounded, Kara lands in an alleyway by Lucy’s new apartment. She quickly disengages her suit and heads to the entrance of the building. Planting on a convincing smile, Kara runs up the flight of stairs, wanting to avoid the elevator. Soon Kara is standing outside Lucy’s front door and she slowly raises her fist to knock.

Letting off a few rhythmic, quick taps the blonde superhero waits for the door to open. Hearing someone approach from the other side, Kara prepares herself.

“Kara!” Lucy smiles brightly at her and pulls the blonde into a hug. “You made it!” The brunette lets go and opens the door fully to allow Kara to enter.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a housewarming gift or- something.” Kara fiddles with her glasses and stares at the modern open planned apartment. “Wow. Your place is amazing.”

“Yea it was a steal!” Lucy leads Kara to the kitchen area to get her a drink. “The couple before it hadn’t seen its potential and had aged decor that was definitely not my style. So new, well, everything, and here we are. Drink?”

“Er sure, vodka tonic?”

“Coming right up! Make yourself at home.” Lucy smiles at Kara before getting the things needed for the blonde’s drink.

Kara nods and wanders over to the lounge area where all of her friends are sitting.

“Kara!” Nia yells happily and jumps to her feet to give the blonde a hug, with Ruby right behind her.

“Hey!” Kara genuinely smiles at the pair and gives them a warm hug. Ruby holding onto her a bit longer as she explains the new drama between the love triangle of her friends.

“Gosh! So-” Kara blinks trying to make sense of it all when Ruby finally takes a breath. “Claire is now with Ri? But she thought she was straight and…”

Alex snorts at how she can practically see the clogs working in Kara’s as she tries to figure out the new teen drama. Eliza smiles over at her daughter and they roll their eyes fondly at each other.

“Yaha!” Ruby says happily and kneels next to the coffee table by her Mom. Grabbing a handful of crisps from the bowl. “It’s all the school can talk about! Which is nice since all they’ve been talking about is-”

“Rubes! Save some food for the others!” Sam quickly interrupts, knowing Ruby was about to reveal the mini shrines of Emma that had been placed around the school from dedicated fans.

Thankfully, taking the hint, Ruby stops and passes the bowl around.

“And how’s school work going? In general, I mean.” Kara sits opposite Ruby and grabs a huge handful herself when the bowl is placed back on the table.

“Well-”

A knock makes Ruby pause for a second before she continues telling Kara her favourite subjects and what the teachers are like. She has already told Kara this many times but the blonde Superhero enjoys hearing about a subject that is completely normal and isn’t related to what's happened over the past few weeks.

Both sister’s keep their attention on the teenager as they hear Lucy enthusiastically greet Lena and Emma.

Eliza excuses herself and heads straight for her youngest daughter. Crushing her in a mama bear hug. Also surprising Lena when she gives her one too.

Sam grins at the sight and drains her beer before getting up.

“I’m getting another” Sam points at her empty can. “Does anyone want anything?”

Choruses of no greet her making the brunette turn towards the kitchen and approach the trio.

“Hey!” Sam smiles and hugs Lena from behind.

“I’m not talking to you.” Lena huffs and keeps her body rigid.

“Aww why? What did I do now?” Sam whines and winks at Emma who is watching them curiously.

“You logged me out.” Lena responds matter of factly, causing Sam to snort and lean close to Lena’s ear.

“Well, it seems like a good idea, since your neck is covered in hickeys.” Sam teases, but before Lena can respond Emma, unfortunately, chose that moment to take a swig of her soda. Promptly choking on the liquid as her breath of surprise makes it go the wrong way.

“Sweetheart?” Eliza quickly pats Emma’s back hard as the blonde voicelessly coughs and splutters. Lena goes to help her girlfriend but Sam keeps her arms tightly wrapped around her.

Emma holds up a hand to signal she is okay and massages her throat as she tries to get her breathing under control.

“Emma?” Ruby rushes over, her face full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Emma nods and gives the teen a thumbs up.

“Great!” Ruby yells and flings her arms around the blonde, making Emma let out a breath of shock and simultaneously tensing for a brief moment.

“Rubes! Remember you need to be gentle with the puny humans!” Sam jokes, letting go of Lena and ruffles her daughter’s hair. “Sorry Em.”

Emma shrugs her shoulders and hugs the teen back. It wasn’t like Ruby’s tackle hadn’t hurt her or anything. She didn’t even move or feel like she was being knocked over.

Soon Ruby lets go and grabs a few snacks from the island.

“So your powers are starting to develop?” Emma signs before taking a handful of grapes and popping them in her mouth.

“Yea! Mom’s been teaching me and hopefully Kara and Alex can help too.”

“What came first?” Emma signs and she can’t help but remember the time Alex tried to experiment with Kara’s powers. Emma mainly stood on the sidelines and watched, knowing they shouldn’t but too fascinated to leave her sisters alone.

“My strength! I can lift a car!”

“Only a little way.” Sam bumps her shoulder into Ruby’s before focusing on Emma and Lena. “This one is still a bit of an unknown, being part human, part Kryptonian.” The brunette boops her daughter’s nose, making Ruby scrunch it up. “So we can’t push it.”

“Yes Mom…” Ruby rolls her eyes and quickly escapes to the group around the sofa.

Emma watches her and her eyes connect with dark brown and crystal blue ones. Emma smiles warmly at her sisters, who return it. Although, Emma can see a slight tightness in their faces.

“Go to them.” Lena whispers softly in Emma’s ear and nudges her forward.

Lena watches as Emma takes a deep breath and follows Ruby towards the sofas. Kara stands slowly, as if making any sudden movements would spook Emma. But the two blonde sisters immediately embrace and Lena smiles sadly as Alex hesitantly joins them. Even Lena can see how tense the redhead’s shoulders are. Which Emma seems to sense too as she soothingly rubs her sister’s back.

A buzzer screeches out across the apartment making Emma jump at the sudden noise.

“You okay?” Alex asks as she pulls away from the group hug. Kara also frowns slightly at Emma, having also felt her jump.

Emma smiles sheepishly. “Yea, the buzzer was loud.” She tries to explain and shrugs before flopping onto the sofa.

“It wasn’t that loud.” Alex comments but sits next to the blonde. “So, why were you and Lena late?”

Immediately Kara swoops into the empty space next to Emma. She grins and shakes her head, taking a sip from her drink.

A blush creeps on Emma’s cheeks and she lifts a hand to hide her beaming smile. Feeling a bit self conscious and shy.

“So the move went well?” Alex takes pity on her and asks a different question. She reaches out to play with Emma’s long wavy hair, something she would naturally do, but for a moment she pauses.

Emma nods and smiles as Alex begins to curl her hair around her finger. “Yes, it went very well. She actually has space for me in her wardrobe!”

“You’re sleeping in the walk-in wardrobe?” Kara asks, a bit confused.

Emma lets out a snort and a quick burst of air. Shaking her hand she raises her hands to sign again. “I meant my clothes. She made room for my clothes in her wardrobe.”

“Ahhh. Yeah that makes more sense.” Kara laughs and Alex gives her a small smile.

“And I’m sure it's way too soon, but how are you two doing?” Emma looks back and forth between her two sisters.

“Er, fine!” Kara lifts her hand up casually. “I did a few laps, cleaned, looked through emails. That kind of thing.” She shrugs and settles more into the sofa.

Emma watches her carefully but before she can ask anymore Lucy interrupts her.

“Pizza!”

Ruby whoops and zooms towards the island. But a blur gets there before her. “Hey! No fair!” She yells at Kara who is already piling her plate.

Emma grins and shakes her head. Looking back over at Alex, her smile fades slightly as she catches her sister’s emotional eyes watching her.

Alex immediately schools her expression and as she goes to get up Emma places a hand on hers.

“Em?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Pretty much what Kara said. Did normal, mundane things.” Alex crosses her arms tight over her chest. “Nothing exciting to report. Unfortunately. Or fortunately.”

Emma nods and gives her sister a warm smile. “Pizza? Before the Kryptonians eat it all?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Alex stands and pulls Emma up. As they walk to the island, where everyone else is standing, the redhead places an arm around her sister’s shoulders. Emma grins, copying her sister and lays her head against Alex’s.

-- -- --

The night continues with laughter and banter as the superfriends fall back into the normal routine of hanging out together.

That is until Emma goes to sign something but someone cuts her off or Emma voiceless laughs, expelling heavy breaths, which cuts her sisters deeply. Emma notices this and always tries to smile reassuringly at them, sensing the slight tension in the air.

“Are we going to play something?” Ruby asks, getting a bit bored of all the talking and catching up everyone was doing.

“What game do you suggest?” Sam smiles at her daughter as she thinks. “It needs to be something we can all play.”

“Pictionary? Charades?”

“Pictionary!” Lucy jumps up and rushes to her home office. She comes back with a huge conference board flip chart and sets it up. “Okay! So teams!” She looks around the room. “How about those on each sofa?”

“That ain’t fair!” Winn motions to the sofa Emma, Kara and Alex were sitting on and Lena was on Emma’s lap. “They have a weird sisterly bond and can read each other's mind! And don’t get me started on your team!” Winn points at the other sofa with Brainy, J’onn and Nia on.

“Winn, it’s fine.” Sam laughs but gives him a knowing look that shuts him up.

The teams end up being sofa one, aka The Champion team, name chosen by Ruby and Winn while Sam and Eliza just shake their heads in amusement at her teammates.

Sofa two, aka The Dream team, consisted of Brainy, Lucy, Nia and J’onn. The group laughs loudly as Nia reveals the name.

Sofa three, aka The A Team, which is the go to name for the Danvers. Lena feels slightly awkward, as if she was interrupting their moment and offered to swap with Eliza but Emma’s arms, encasing her waist, kept her from moving off her lap. Eliza thanks her but reassures that she is happy where she is.

“Right! Team The Champions! Are you ready?” Lucy gets the card out of the holder. “Whose drawing?”

“Oh me!” Ruby’s hand shoots up in the air.

Lucy quickly checks the word to make sure Ruby will know what it is. She hands the teen the card and turns the egg timer.

Chaos ensues as Ruby draws quickly and her team starts screaming random words that could work with the lines she is drawing.

Emma looks at Alex and unlatches her hands from Lena to sign behind her back. “Priest.”

The redhead looks back at the board and suddenly sees it. The dog collar Ruby was trying to draw around a stick figure's neck and the cross.

They watch in amusement as the group yell different things and all Ruby could do was stab the dog collar over and over.

“Time!”

“PRIEST!!” Ruby yells exasperatedly and flops onto the sofa in a huff.

“Oh of course!” Sam slaps her forehead.

“Sorry Ruby.” Eliza places a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “I thought it was something else and once my mind is onto something it’s hard to change it.”

“And don’t we know it.” Alex sasses and takes a big gulp of her drink.

“Alex!” Kara laughs loudly and Emma joins her with a few big exhales of breath.

Alex quickly glances at the blonde before focusing on the second team.

“Okay Nia. We are one.” Brainy sits on the edge of the cushion and doesn’t blink as he keeps focused on his girlfriend. Lucy hands Sam the egg timer and the game starts again.

Emma purses her lips forward, reacting to how cute the pair are being. Looking up at her own girlfriend she wraps her arms around Lena’s waist and pulls her down.

“Em!” Lena squeaks as she suddenly finds herself laid down on Emma’s shoulder. The blonde responds by kissing Lena’s cheek and nuzzling her neck. “Hi love.”

“Small person!” Lucy screams and Nia quickly shakes her head. “Dammit!”

“Big person?!” J’onn holds his hands up and Nia rolls her wrists over and over, hinting they were on the right track.

Brainy’s eyes dart over the stick figures on the paper. How each one was getting bigger and bigger. His brain computing the possibilities.

“Do you know what it is?” Alex whispers to Emma, who nods in response. She moves her hands so only Alex and Lena can see.

“Giant.”

“Basketball player?!” Lucy screams and looks panicky at the timer.

“Giant!” Brainy yells just as the last piece of sand falls.

“YES!” Nia jumps up and down in excitement and Emma claps a few times in applause. The others join in with her and give whoops of approval.

Emma smirks as she watches Winn’s clouded face, especially when Nia rolls the dice and it lands on a six.

“It’s got a triangle by it.” Nia informs as she looks at the card.

“Means it's an all play round.” Lucy explains. “Right teams! Choose your drawer!” She grabs some paper and places it by each team.

“Peanut?” Alex turns to Emma.

“But Emma’s the best guesser!” Kara argues but closes her mouth when Alex gives her a look to be quiet.

Emma shrugs and helps Lena up so she can go to Nia to look at the word on the card. Nia smirks at her and Emma lets out a loud breath as she reads it. Sam joins in when she looks at the card as well.

“May the odds be ever in your favour.” Emma signs and kneels by the sofa. Placing the paper on a book to lean on. “You need to be quick with this!” Emma signs at her group.

“Hey! No communicating beforehand!” Winn yells and Emma sticks her tongue out at him.

“Okay, ready?” Lucy asks and everyone confirms. “Three, two, one, go!”

Lena stands over Emma’s shoulder and watches as her hand almost blurs as she draws.

“A gun?” Alex quirks her head to the side.

“Water pistol?!” Kara yells over the noise of the other teams and bounces excitedly.

“Silencer!” Alex claps and Emma lifts her hands in the air in triumph.

“HOW?!” Sam screeches and stomps over to look at Emma’s drawing. “Oh, that’s pretty good.”

“What do you expect? My girlfriend’s an artist after all.” Lena says smugly and kisses Emma’s head.

“Blurgh! There’s children present!” Lucy hollars from the other sofa and a pillow flies straight for her head. “Hey!” She splutters and Emma grins at her.

“Okay A Team, let's see if you can do two in a row.” Sam rounds her shoulders back to look intimidating.

“Bring it.” Kara stands and tries to look as intimidating as the brunette.

“No sweetie.” Alex pulls Kara back down to the sofa and wraps an arm around her.

“Em?” Lucy grabs their attention. “Do you wanna go again?”

Emma looks back at her team who nod for her to do the main one herself. She shrugs and gets up to take the card from Lucy.

But something strange happens. Emma misjudges where the coffee table is and the world blurs slightly. Her foot catches on the corner of the table and she goes flying towards the other sofa. Landing heavily in a heap on the floor.

“Sweetheart!” Eliza quickly kneels next to her daughter whose shoulders are moving up and down rapidly.

Emma sits up and her face is flushed with embarrassment but she is silently laughing at herself.

“And I thought Kara was the klutz.” Winn muses and the blonde superhero shoots him an offended look.

“Well they are sisters.” Nia agrees and laughs with him.

“Technically-”

Nia quickly interrupts Brainy. “I know, it’s a joke.” She places a hand on his thigh.

“Oh! Yes! Good one!” Brainy smiles and nods in approval.

Emma gets up and dusts herself off. Her head aches and her eyes hurt but that isn’t anything new.

“Here's the card.” Lucy says as she hands it to her.

Emma reads it and eyebrows shoot up at the word. Alps

“Yea! Good luck with that.” Lucy snorts. “Get ready Champs.”

“Ions. The Champ-ions.” Winn tries to correct her but Lucy playfully ignores him.

“Okay Emma! You got this!” Kara claps and leans forward. Alex and Lena copy her, ready to make the correct guess.

“Three, two, one, go!”

Emma quickly sketches out a map of Europe, showing the tell tale signs of Italy and France.

“Europe!” Lena yells and Emma does a thumbs up before circling where the Alps are placed.

“Switzerland?” Kara asks quickly.

Emma rolls her wrist letting them know they are on the right track. She starts drawing big, jagged mountains.

“The Alps!” Lena screams and Emma nods immediately.

“How did you get that?” Lucy’s eyes go wide.

“Because they also have a weird, soulmate connection.” Winn huffs as he leans back against the sofa. Eliza pats his head a few times.

“Roll the dice Em.” Alex holds the die out and Emma rolls it.

The game goes on for quite some time with much laughter and tantrums. But the clear winners become the A Team. Winning on the word chandelier that Alex immediately gets.

“I’m telling you it’s null and void!” Winn huffs as he stomps to help clear up.

“Look! Just because they have some weird, mental connection, does not mean they didn’t win that fair and square.” Lucy argues back, still impressed with Emma’s drawing of The Phantom Of The Opera mask and the famous chandelier.

Once the apartment is cleared of rubbish everyone starts saying their goodbyes. Emma gets hugged the most and finally it's her sister's turn.

“Night Em.” Kara hesitantly wraps her arms around her baby sister. Almost barely touching her. “Sleep well.” Kara quickly lets go, racing for the door. Emma’s shoulders slump slightly as she watches her go.

“Hey.” Alex turns Emma’s attention to her and holds out her arms. Emma dives into them immediately and Alex closes her eyes as she holds her there. The images of her dream invade her mind so Alex snaps her eyes back open. Involuntarily going rigid at the memory.

Emma steps back and gives the redhead a sad smile.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Alex answers almost automatically and heads for the door. She rushes down to her motorbike in the garage and shoves the helmet over her head and turns on the ignition. Roaring the beast to life she zooms out of the underground garage and onto the streets. Trying to force the images of a bloodied Emma out of her mind as she speeds into the night.

(Twenty Eight)

[katsidhe]

15.20 Final Thoughts

Supernatural is over, and somehow, despite itself, it did the very best it could to please me. That was always going to be an impossible task. But truly, sincerely, that finale was as close to my desires as the show could ever bring itself to come, and so, so much closer than I ever dreamed it would dare.

I am so, so glad that no other regular characters were involved (Bobby aside, but he was brief). How better to encapsulate their own emptiness? How fundamentally fitting, than in the epilogue to their final battle, wherein the entire world beyond them was erased, the wider universe is merely set dressing for them to move through. And it was so quiet this way. This finale wasn’t overcrowded or rushed. It kept its own peace. And it preserved the tangible claustrophobia that 15.19 invoked: that tangled, lovely, solipsistic, toxic conviction that these are the only two people on earth that matter.

It’s unclear exactly how much time passed between 15.19 and 15.20. I like to think it’s been at least a year, given that they’ve settled into routine and that their grief seems less fresh. (Although yes, the concept of Dean dying on his very first hunt without a resurrection available is hilarious, I must confess.) Their calm domesticity, their peace, was lovely to watch (Sam kicking the laundry machine! Sam with wet hair! Sam running! Sam cooking, Sam looking a little less bulky than usual, and happy!) But man, it really is Dean’s world, isn’t it? Even the DOG, which really, really, really could reasonably have been primarily Sam’s, was Dean’s dog first and foremost. Then on Dean’s say-so, they get in Dean’s car to drive to a pie festival for Dean. Sam is perfectly content to go along with all of it.

As if we hadn’t gotten enough delightful fanservice, we also got one last scene of Sam threatening to torture someone to death. :) what a king.

I love that Dean died to an OSHA violation while fighting a random loose end from season 1 (which, by the way, I CALLED IT, I am so proud of myself). It’s perfectly mundane. I truly and deeply do not understand anyone complaining that Dean should have gone out in a way that’s more epic. He’s been there, done that, guys, and remember how miserable it was? Now there’s no cosmic safety net. Dean died in a broken down old barn, saving some kids. Moments like these are when Dean is at his best, at his most fundamentally sympathetic: when he’s not trying to control the shape of the universe or dictate righteousness or let his anger drive himself down into a destructive spiral. He’s just putting his money where his mouth is. He’s not making a broad moral statement. He’s simply putting his life on the line to defend someone who needs defending. It is not an unworthy end. It’s so much better than going out to, god forbid, God.

Did Dean earn a lifetime of peace? The concept of just desserts is fraught. But I also don’t think it’s something Dean wanted. He wanted to keep killing things in tetanus-infested barns until he died. He got what he wanted. And while the arc of his wants has adapted over the years, MOTW hunting is fulfilling for him.

Dean’s deathbed speech was, oh man. It got me good. Like many of the things I loved in this episode, it was quiet. No desperation, no revising history (or not too much, anyway). Just, “stay with me, please. I love you. Tell me it’s okay.”

The quiet of Sam’s grief, alone in the bunker. How still his face is, until for a little bit it crumples again, and then it comes back and goes still. He’s not trying to control his reactions or press back against his sorrow. There is no work to do, nothing to avenge, no one to find, nothing to defeat. He is alone, and the washes of visible grief simply come and go in waves that he doesn’t try to fight or force.

I need the gif of him flinching at the toaster. His startle reactions are my favorite thing. He’s alone underground, there is not a living soul for miles and miles, he’s just buried his brother, not for the first time, but this time, he knows, for the last. And the goddamn toaster goes off and he cannot control the way his heart leaps up into his throat and the way every one of his muscles tightens.

Sam grows old. Sam. Grows old. Sam grows old! SAM GROWS OLD.

Ohhh my God, Sam grows old. Without Dean! Without hunting! Without Cas! With people outside that claustrophobic world, beyond the four tight walls of SPN, beyond the people approved by Dean and by Fandom, who give him peace and love and fulfillment! SAM GOT OUT. Even with the truly terrible wig the image brings me to actual tears. I cannot believe SPN would allow him to have this. I cannot believe that the show let him be happy without Dean. I want to read the set of novelizations about Sam’s recovery.

Of course this was the only way for Sam to get unwound, and of course it had to happen offscreen in flashes. Thank god for the ambiguity. There’s so much potential there, years and years, we were simply told: and at some point Sam’s life gets better, at some point his mental health improves and he feels safe enough to start a family, with someone, and at some point he has a child, and he dies peacefully, he dies loved and with people who love him, and dammit I’m getting weepy again.

Sam quit hunting. Not in a sudden jolt. We see him leaving the bunker on another job. But when he leaves the bunker, he leaves for good. He has so much knowledge, but he does not preserve the Men of Letters. He does not honor their legacy of extermination and experimentation. Maybe he gives someone else the keys, for the books. Or maybe he’s digitized it all, and maybe it’s done.

Maybe his wife is Eileen, or maybe it’s Amelia, or maybe it’s Piper or Cara or maybe it’s someone new. Maybe it’s not even a woman. And maybe she’s a hunter, but I hope she isn’t, and when Sam tells her, haltingly, in fits and starts, the bare outline of the truth, she looks at him and she believes him. And she understands the shape of the trauma he carries, even if Sam can’t quite speak the details, and maybe Sam goes to therapy. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he wakes in pain and fear for many years, but over time, it dulls.

Sam’s son is still a young man when Sam is on his deathbed, probably in at least his eighties. Think about the mountain Sam had to climb to reach that point. How many years and years of work did it take before Sam felt safe enough to want a child? How long for him to gently conquer his terror at the legacy his blood might carry: Lucifer and Azazel are dead, he knows this, but how long before he lets himself believe it enough to permit the risk? And then he raises his child, not in fear and loneliness, but with love and support and care. And he makes sure his son is protected, that he knows to salt his thresholds and ward against demons, but his son will not suffer the way he suffered.

Maybe he untangles his thoughts about Dean, maybe he learns that to feel angry with his brother is not to betray him or to dishonor his memory, maybe he comes to a more complex understanding of their relationship. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he simply enshrines Dean, and Dean’s memory becomes ever more golden and untarnished, and the Impala becomes truly an altar. The details of how Sam carries Dean with him—the watch, the car, the absurdly large photos, his son’s name—perhaps these are played straight, and perhaps Sam never finds a more nuanced love. In the meta sense I think we are certainly meant to think this. We are meant to see Dean deified here, canonized into a saint. We are meant to view Sam’s fifty more years of life as worship, as a dedication and an offering.

This is the long shadow of the finale. These are the things untouched by necessity and by design: this is Dean’s apology in 15.18, this is Sam not wanting an apology, and not wanting to hear Dean offer one. This difficult work was always and inevitably going to be elided. But there is so much time, decades and decades, offscreen, for Sam to come to a quieter peace.

I think he can do it.

I think Sam can do anything.

I’m crying again.

I really didn’t think I would cry much about the finale. I thought I would cry at the concept of the show ending, but not at what the ending was. I didn’t think any details would actually affect me. But then Sam got old. I am truly and genuinely hung up on the canonical image of Sam finding peace. Good god. He had GLASSES. Help.

My chief complaint (aside from that absolutely awful Carry On cover, why oh why, they should have just played the original again), if I felt at all like complaining at the moment, would be how happy this ending is. But I can’t begrudge Sam that. I can’t even get too mad at the scene that I was SO SURE I would despise: that of Sam and Dean content in a Heaven that is now apparently Great, Actually (even though a prison dimension with an open floor plan is still a prison dimension, but hey, I guess we humans can’t leave earth either). Supernatural clearly wanted Sam and Dean to not be facing down an abyssally bleak afterlife, and I think I’d be complaining about the lack of bleakness a whole lot more if it didn’t have the (perhaps unintended??) side effect of giving Sam even more freedom from Dean than SPN already deigned to give him. Sam isn’t in a shared cell with Dean. He can be with his friends and his wife and his son.

One of the fundamental questions of SPN is, would Dean ever let Sam go? And it’s a question that the bulk of s13-15 has rendered moot with Sam’s growing passivity, and one that 15.20 neatly dodged. And I’m glad it did, because I wouldn’t have liked whatever 15.20 had to say on the matter. This deflection feels true to the spirit of what the show has become.

It was impossible for Sam to find peace while Dean was still alive. And on its own that kind of says everything, doesn’t it? And Sam is still forever denied the peace he truly longed for. Sam didn’t want death to force Dean’s hand. Sam wanted Dean to want to let him go. But the only way Sam and Dean could heal is apart. The potential of their relationship on earth becoming untangled is forever precluded, explictly. And yet Sam’s freedom is validated, Sam is allowed what he sought in season 1 and season 8, Sam is something beyond a hunter and Dean’s brother, and the show let him be, the show let him grow.

Supernatural said Sam Rights, and the world shook.

[missskzbiased]

The Three Lessons (2)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fluff (Hm…), Witch! Au, Love Triangle

Pairing: Chan X Fem! Reader X Seungmin

Word Count: ~7,8K   [I’m sorry]

(The First) (The Second) (The Third)

Warnings: (Mild) Mentions of (Hunting and deboning [Literally just the word, I didn’t describe anything], burning witches)

Notes:  Well, I won’t lie... I’m quite sad because I really liked to plot this and I don’t think many people liked it but as I liked to write it, so I just shrugged it off USHAHUSAUHSHUAUHS That’s my ninja way. 

I really hope those who read and enjoyed it like this one too though LOL and I’ll warn you that I may have thrown some things around but it’s because I intend to write some spin-off for this au with the other boys. It’s not random! USHAHUSAUHUASH It just looks like it is

Tagging: Please, send me an ask/DM me if you wish to be tagged

                                                      ////

  CHAPTER 2: The Second Lesson

    Yerkir ─ The Earthy Elder ─ scoffed as soon as you stepped in the haven.

    You glanced at her, watching as she shifted to a new position on the stump ─ left leg bending to rest her foot on the woody surface while her right foot twisted to plant itself firmly on the ground ─, letting her arms resting sloppily on her knees; eyes directed to the woods. You averted your eyes to look straight ahead, ignoring her, and the reassuring squeeze you felt on your shoulder made you fix your gaze on your Grandma.

    “So… How was the hunt?” Yerkir asked in a knowing tone, clearly aware that you didn’t have anything in your hands but still choosing to mock you. She tapped her foot on the stump while groping her dress, searching for something through her pockets. She finally found it ─ some kind of dried root that looked like a stick ─, chewing mindlessly with her eyes still fixed on the horizon.

     “Why don’t you go look for something better to do, Yerkir?” Grandma muttered, rolling her eyes as she let go of your shoulder. She stopped, fixing the staff on the ground before leaning on it, eyes fixed on her old friend ─ which was promptly returned. The Earthy Elder fixed her gaze at your grandma for a few seconds, a blank expression almost flattening her wrinkles, her blinking showing her astonishment.

     “Maybe because I’m blind” The Elder pointed out, grimacing obnoxiously. She turned her eyes to you ─ as if she knew you were about to giggle ─, studying you for a moment before clicking her tongue and pursing her lips, sending a shiver down your spine under the intensity of her gaze.

    Yerkir's milky eyes always had the power to terrify you; her icy-bluish eyes seemed to be capable of diving into your soul and exposing all your deepest secrets to the world. You didn’t have anything to hide but it still scared you. Her gaze was stern, unwavering, and it had the power to freak you out; studying you slowly as if she just knew whatever was going inside your body and mind.

     “We had some… Issues” Your Grandma waved her hand dismissively “The animals preferred to retire themselves” She added, getting a snort as an answer. Yerkir leaned back on her palms, throwing you both an amused look before tilting her head, lips quivering in a silent mockery.

     “Yeah, I could tell this much” She nodded, her amusement morphing into a serious frown “I guess Nature wasn’t so satisfied with you for helping out a… Man” She spat the last word with disgust as if just the mention of it twisted her stomach “You should have let him die” She muttered darkly, averting her eyes to the cottages on her left expectantly, prompting you to do the same.

     “What was it?” The Airy Elder came out from her cottage, voice sounding like a soft breeze, a gentle huff that tinkled in the air “Has someone called me?” She inquired, eyes attentive as she swiveled her head to look around the place.

    The open space ─ a simple circular terrain with a bunch of stumps and rocks randomly arranged around a campfire ─ was surrounded by The Four Elders' cottages and The Tent in a placement that resembled slightly a pentagram but not really. The other’s cabins could be easily seen from there, scattered around the clearing, which made the small place just perfect for all the sixteen of you to hang out. The few of you who stood there at the moment, though, had to shake your head, getting a confused frown from the elder.

    “The voices are getting more chaotic each day…” She complained under her breath, fixing her gaze on her friends “Are you two fighting again?” She scolded, hand to her hip as they looked at her with arched brows.

    “Go talk to the wind, airhead!” Yerkir sneered, fighting back a smirk “Let me fight wet-pants in peace!” She rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. Your Grandma rubbed her temples, sighing before looking at you, holding your gaze for just a little bit before averting her eyes to the sarcastic elder.

    “Look, it wasn’t his time” She stated, speaking slowly so Yerkir would pay attention to her words “I can’t ignore what Nature wants because you hate mankind” She rolled her eyes, fed-up with the woman “Caeli, please blow some sense into her mind” She pleaded, averting her gaze to The Airy Elder.

    “Some people don’t have anything inside their brains” She shrugged, giving a judging look to Yerkir “The earth magic is solid enough to block her ears… Have been like this for years now” She sighed, shaking her head in disappointment “She just can’t listen to us”

    “Next time try saying something smart” She spat angrily “I have a lot of things inside my brain! One of those is a fucking head trauma! Thank you very much for asking” She sat straight, getting up from her stump and glaring at the other two “Should I remind you that this solid magic was what kept your child safe?” her eyes buried imaginary holes into Caeli’s brain.

     If you tried hard enough, you could cut the tension with a knife.

     “That’s enough!” The Fiery Elder interjected, voice spreading like fire on dry grass before vanishing suddenly, getting everyone’s attention. The Tent entrance’s fabric rustled, giving way to the old lady to come out; stern eyes darting between the other three elders, a frown wrinkling her face, casting shadows over her eyes “We should be handling The Coven issues, not fighting over silly things” She added, crossing her arms.

     “Issues?” Grandma asked surprised, looking to the other ones “Something happened while I was out?” She added, furrowing her brows with a serious expression, dropping the taunting. Yerkir mumbled something incomprehensible, casually sitting cross-legged on the ground in a rapid motion, fingers gripping her chin in a pensive way.

    “Something has been messing up my vision” She began, resting her elbow on her knee and curving her back forward “There is too much magic permeating the woods, I can no longer see clearly…” She admitted, letting go of her chin and straightening up again, gaze fixing on you “What did you do in the woods? I suddenly lost track of you before you got to the… Boy” She scrunched her nose to the last word.

    “Nothing?” You answered unsurely “I mean… Something strange happened…” You glanced nervously to your Grandma, biting your lip before continuing, “I think the wind talked to me” You admitted before looking at Caeli “Maybe my powers are awakening?” You suggested, uncertain, and she pursed her lips, nodding in wonder.

    “Well, you’re seventeen… Months away from your eighteenth birthday” She mused “It’s quite possible… It’s about time for your powers to show up anyway” She shrugged, looking at Yerkir “It could be magic enough to mess your senses… The Winds were quite agitated earlier” The Earthy Elder hummed, tapping her chin before tilting her head in deep thought.

    “And you, Wiha?” She asked, staring at your Grandma “What was that? A memory spell? You know far too well it’s not your specialty” She pointed out, arching her brow “Last time I checked, your earth magic was bullshit” She scorned, and your Grandma grimaced at her in discontent.

    “Well, last time I checked your lazy ass didn’t want to help me out so I had to do it all by myself” She sneered, glaring at the old woman. They held each other’s gaze for a while, a silent battle for dominance; pursed lips and fierce eyes determined to win their competition.

     “Not the point here” Isati reminded, sighing tiredly “There is no doubt other witches are alive and enchanting the woods along with us… The mixed signals we’re receiving must be from this” She mused, averting her gaze to Caeli “The voices sound familiar? Do you think they are trying to locate us as well?”

    “I can’t discern the voices that well anymore… The enchantments are getting in the way somehow” She sighed, lowering her head “I have been sending messages around, though… None of my whispers were answered until now… I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful” Isati hummed, waving at her to dismiss any concerns.

    “It’s the same for me” Yerkir agreed “The ground is too embued with magic… It seems like they have been planning something… Maybe an attack? There is just so much I can see now, so I can’t locate them for us… The other Covens were well hidden before but never like this” She sighed, averting her eyes “It’s like they took my vision all over again”

    “The boy had other enchantments beside mine” Your Grandma added “They know we are close to them… It would be impossible not to sense my magic in the river” She pinned her chin, thinking deeply about something “Did they choose to ignore us, or are they challenging us?” She raised her eyes to Isati, a serious frown taking over her features.

    “There is no reason for witches attack each other” Isati stated firmly but Yerkir scoffed, nodding sarcastically.

    “Are you kidding me? We don’t know what they have been through… There are twenty years behind us! This is enough time to change someone” She pointed out, skeptical “It will be safer if we make sure they don’t want any trouble… Imagine fighting some old hags with a bunch of useless kids” She gestured to the witches and warlocks around “Most of them didn’t even get their powers yet! They will die on spot”

    “What if they attack us when we find them?” Isati arched her brows and Yerkir scoffed.

    “Well, what if they attack us when they find us?” She retorted “It’s better to be attacked out there than giving away our location to them… What if they track us without magic? We don’t know anything about them! It’s better to show ourselves and actively try to reach for them and talk this out” Everyone nodded in agreement, a heavy silence falling upon all of you.

    The Elders exchanged a look, concerned about the worried expressions all of you held at once, the tension building to a point that it was impossible not to feel uncomfortable. The Earthy Elder cleared her throat, tapping her feet on the ground in a calming rhythm while The Airy Elder whistled, both of them trying to ease your mind and soul. One by one, each one of you seemed to finally calm down, releasing the withhold breath in your chest and relaxing your bodies.    

     “We’ll need a plan” Isati announced, eyes roaming around “We can have a private meeting later… For now, we should keep our activities” She decided, throwing you a look “We should increase your sessions if your powers are beginning to show up” She suggested “Meet me at the tent when you’re ready” And that being said, she turned around, arms crossed on her back before she walked out.

    You stared at her hands.

    To be more precise, to the lack of them.

    “Didn’t your Grandma teach you that staring is impolite?” Chan whispered in your ears, his warmth suddenly registering in your mind. You let out a yelp, turning around to meet his playful eyes, a thin smirk adorning his lips. How could he be so beautiful? “I see you’re keeping my coat to yourself… You didn’t need to hide it, you could just ask me for it” He joked, and you widened your eyes.

     Oh, Mother Nature! His coat…

     “Oh, yeah! Haha…” You forced a smile, your fake laughter being way too obvious to him. He raised his eyebrow, curious “Well, about that… I may have given it away to the boy Grandma saved” You looked away, ashamed to admit it.

     “Oh” He said in realization, brows arching up in surprise “That’s okay… It wasn’t really special or anything” He shrugged “It was just an old coat, I can live without it… Maybe you can help me buy a new one when you turn eighteen” He said shyly, looking away “We can buy it at the village or something” He concluded flustered.

      Was it just you or Bang Chan was asking you out on a date?

      “Wow… This must be the most awkward flirting I have ever witnessed” Minho spoke up, carrying a bunch of sticks to the campfire “It amazes me how you guys managed to spend seventeen years of your life being gross” He decided to add, dropping the sticks to the ground and dusting off his hands, eyes averting to you.

      It would be impossible to ignore his resemblance with The Earthy Elder.

      “It amazes me how you managed to spend eighteen years of your life by giving opinions no one ever asked” You retorted, grimacing at him. Chan chuckled beside you, looking at his friend in amusement, while Minho feigned a laugh, hands going to his hips.

      “Sixteen to be more precise” He corrected “I’ve only learned to speak at the age of two”

      You just rolled your eyes at his antics.

                                                                              /////

     The sessions with The Fiery Elder wasn’t helping at all.

     The blurry scene flipped over and you could feel the hard pang on your stomach ─ as if someone carried you like a sack of potatoes ─, pain increasing as said someone trotted, jerking your body up and down and making the trip too uncomfortable. The next thing you distinguished was some kind of fabric falling over your head, muffling all the sounds around and rustling on your ears, prompting you to shake your head eagerly to drop it.

      The first thing you noticed when the fabric fell to the ground was the casting glows on everyone’s blurred faces ─ a stunning dance that distracted you for a brief moment, drawing you to roam your eyes around to discover its source. The second thing that got to your senses was the increasing heat that emanated at your back, enticing you to turn around, and the burning feeling that hit your cheeks disturbed you.

     But not as much as what you saw.

     The nameless figure was consumed by the flames right before your eyes, and you could swear she looked right into them before shouting her lungs out ─ the most vivid sound you ever heard. The screech seemed to engrave itself on the back of your mind; the contradictory effect that it had with the stunning flames overwhelming you to the point you felt your soul getting out of your body before it struck back to you.

       The screech that slipped from your lips morphed into hers.

     You shoot your torso up ─ gasping for air as if your life depended on it, chest going up and down with the heavy breathing ─, eyes roaming around the place bewildered, trying to make sense out of the wall right before your eyes instead of the burning flames. You blinked rapidly, taking a few seconds to realize that the intense noise that filled your ears right now had nothing to do with the crowd but with the constant slamming of the windows and the door caused by the boisterous wind.      

      Chan stormed in, eyes darting around the place and hands raised to protect himself from the random objects that flew in every direction, crashing on the walls with loud thuds that startled you even more. You met his eyes for a second, and he must have noticed the horror in them because he rushed in your way, hunching his shoulders to avoid being hit, while you returned your gaze to the gale forming inside your house.

      “What happened?! Are you okay?” He yelled for you to listen, hands wandering around your arms, groping them to look for bruises “I heard you scream… What happened?” He shouted when you didn’t answer him, eyes too focused on the ruckus caused by the wind. You felt the mattress sinking, his body beside yours as he cupped your face, guiding your gaze to meet his; eyes diving deep into yours “Y/N? Answer me, Sweetheart… What happened? Are you okay?” He asked softly.

     This time you actually focused on him and the twirling wind dissolved into a calm breeze just like magic; the silence that followed it quickly broken by all the clattering and thudding from the objects falling to the ground. You ignored it all, focusing on his eyes and your uneven breathing, letting yourself get lost in his gaze for a moment before your eyes darted to his lips ─ his pink and plump lips that broke apart to gasp ─, returning to dive into his eyes once more.

      He tried to focus his eyes on yours but you noticed how he darted them to your lips twice before he bit his own, blushing profusely and adjusting his hold on your face with trembling fingers; head tilting slightly to the side as if he would lean for a kiss. You felt your heart race into your chest, ramming into your ears as you withheld your breath, spreading some kind of warmth all over your body as you felt yourself blush, all flustered and expectant.

    The moment was broken by a sudden burst that made you yelp, hundreds of sparks crackling from the ground to form a shaky translucent figure in the middle of your room: The Fiery Elder’s concerned spiritual projection, looking around the place with a frown before finally fixing her gaze on you. The way that Chan jerked away from you ─ stumbling backward, trying to straighten himself before bowing respectfully ─was nothing but comical, and you had to fight back a chuckle as you got out the bed, bowing to the elder.

    She raised her hands to dismiss the formalities.

    “W-We didn’t do anything!” He stuttered, floundering his hands in the air anxiously “I heard her scream and rushed to see what happened! That was it! I wasn’t going to ki—“ The Elder snorted, interrupting his rambling, shaking her head in amusement.

    “Calm down, son” She arched her brow, eyes glinting playfully “I sensed something wrong… I was just checking on her” She looked around the place, studying the untidy floor for a bit, humming “Was it your powers?” She asked, and you nodded when her eyes laid on you again “This kind of manifestation is not a good sign… We’ll need to fix it” She sighed, glancing at him.

    “Yes, Ma’am?” He asked promptly, crossing his arms behind his back and fixing his gaze on her, pursing his lips.

    “Bring her to me, Mr.Bang” She requested, looking at the ceiling “Vivi, can you please tidy this up? We don’t need Wiha whining when she returns from the village” She added, getting the vines to slowly untangle from the beam “Also…” She smirked, figure beginning to flicker “Try to keep your hands to yourself, son… It’s just a few months” the mocking grin was followed by the crackling sparks consuming her projection before bursting in the air, letting both of you alone once again.

                                                                          ////

    The spear crossed the air like an arrow, sticking in the trunk behind you.

    You widened your eyes ─ body pressed against the tree as if you tried hard enough you could pass through it ─, knees giving away as soon as the beast hissed, as startled as you, running away instead of attacking as it intended to do just a few seconds earlier. You slid down, trembling and groping the trunk as you sat down on the grass, raising your glossy eyes to meet an upset Chan striding in your way.

     He gripped the spear filled with anger, yanking it out and throwing you a look.

     “What the hell?” He fumed, clenching his jaw before scoffing “Do you think it’s a game or something?! You could have died, Y/N!” He yelled, sticking the shaft to the ground “What were you thinking?!” He asked in a demanding tone, eyes burying into yours.

      You shrunk under his tone, gripping the grass and lowering your head, ashamed.

     “I heard someone…” You muttered, risking a glance at him “They called my name” You added, bringing your knees closer to you “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You felt the tears coming to your eyes, the sudden faltering on your tone getting his attention immediately.

    “Don’t cry” He sighed, letting his shoulders relax and squatting next to you, hand trailing to your jaw, inviting you to look at him “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that” He brushed your cheek, letting go of your face and supporting himself on the shaft “You can’t get distracted like this on a hunt, Y/N… It could have costed your life” He took a deep breath, exhaling heavily.

    “I know… You’re right, I should be more careful” You agreed, sighing and adjusting yourself to get up. He was faster than you, standing up and extending his hand for you to take, helping you out “My Grandma would kill you if I died on your watch” You chuckled, and he snorted nodding.

    “My mother would have killed me on spot” He joked “The first lesson to the new witch would be murdering young handsome warlocks out there” He added, smirking when you shot your head to look at him, arching your brows in amusement.

    “Murdering a young handsome warlock?” You scoffed, playfully shocked “You’re flattering yourself again…” You shook your head in feigned disappointment, mocking him.

    “I’m just saying what is inside your mind” He teased, and you brought your hands to your hips, letting out an offended gasp “What? Your head is filled with me” He sang, poking your forehead fondly.

   “Well, I wasn’t the one trying to kiss you earlier” You reminded him, grimacing.

   “You weren’t stopping me either” He retorted, smirking smugly at you, making you roll your eyes and pull your hand away from his grip.

   “Stop flirting with me, Channie” You poked his cheek “I’ll be eighteen soon enough” You teased, and this time he blushed, looking away “Oh? I see… Is Channie’s head all filled with me?” You mocked, poking his cheek again, laughing when he didn’t retort you “Looks like the young handsome warlock is whipped” You hummed, smirking.

    “You’re the one to talk” He chuckled, tilting his head and taking your chin between his fingers, leaning closer to your face. You felt your face burning, looking everywhere but his eyes before he scoffed, prompting you to look at him “Just a few more months before I can finally—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence, knocked to the ground suddenly by someone crashing into him. The violent impact startled you but the yelling followed right after it and the grip on your wrist, yanking your body, was even more baffling.

    “Run!” The stranger demanded, sprinting with you.

    You followed his call, too surprised to think straight, sprinting with him for a few seconds before the realization hit you. You looked back, glancing over your shoulder to see an enraged Chan tugging his spear from the ground and preparing to shoot it your way, cold-steel eyes focused on the guy that dragged you with him. You returned your gaze to the stranger, his warm brown hair flew in the wind, whipping his cheeks, and you caught a glimpse of his widened dark eyes and red lips, a frown on his face suggesting that he was as scared as you.

    Kim Seungmin.

    “Wait!” You yelled, trying to dig your feet on the ground but his fear was enough to give him the strength to haul you “Stop!” You tried again, struggling to overpower him before the sudden sharp noise got to your ears. You didn’t even have the time to register what it meant, eyes snapping to the spear crossing the air as fast as an arrow, curving just enough to miss you and impale Seungmin’s head “Watch out!” You shouted, jolting your body to take away his balance, throwing both of you to the ground.

     The next few moments were a blurry mess.

     You could tell you were rolling down a knoll; body jerking on the ground as the bunch of confusing and spinning images unraveled right in front of your eyes, making you dizzy and nauseous. A mix of muffled sounds reached your ears ─ partly from the leaves you crunched and partly from the rustling fabrics of your clothes ─ along with your hissing as the roots and shrubs in the way hit you both mercilessly, bruising your skin. The bewildering moment fogged your senses but you could still feel Seungmin’s arms wrapping around you, trying to protect you from further bruising.

     “Ouch!” You whined as you hit something particularly hard in the way, feeling that, finally, the speed seemed to decrease by the second. You raised your eyes, catching a glimpse of a focused Chan running your way, spear on hand, and prepared to throw it once more, studying the best opportunity.

     The opportunity he was looking for came sooner than you wanted, the rolling ceasing with Seungmin’s body hovering over yours, not giving you enough time to think of a plan. The mysterious boy tried to lift his body, bracing himself on the ground, unaware of the danger that he got himself into, checking to see if you were okay. You sensed the spear getting closer ─ enchanted to go straight to Seungmin ─, and before you could even think of what you were doing, your hand shot to the air while you embraced the boy, trying to protect him mindlessly.

     “No!” You shouted, a blast of air coming out of your hands, formed right from the thin air that surrounded you, projecting the spear away. You felt the boy tensing up, glancing at him with wide eyes as his head snapped to the side to verify if he wasn’t seeing things. He let his mouth fall agape, eyes landing on the spear before slowly trailing to you, terrified.

    “A-A witch?!” He stuttered, jerking away “Holy –“ He rolled to the side, getting away from you, trying to get up but stumbling over himself. You stood up, hands rose so he could see that you were harmless, cautiously stepping ahead to get closer to him “Don’t come near me!” He shouted, grabbing a random stick on the ground to threaten you, wobbling it in the air.

    “This is ridiculous…” Chan sighed, utterly done with the situation, flickering his hand to jolt the stick out of Seungmin’s hands, letting the boy flabbergasted, blinking repeatedly as he tried to understand what had just happened.

   “H-Holy cow…” He paled, one hand shooting to his mouth as the other rested on his stomach “H-He… He’s a witch… Holy mother of God” He gagged like he was about to vomit, a nauseous expression taking over his features “I didn’t mean to upset you guys! I-I thought he was harassing you... I-I mean! I didn’t mean to interrupt your… Mating?” He floundered, eyes darting between you as he tried to explain himself.

     “We’re not mating!” You interjected, offended “Look, Seungmin –“

     “How do you know my name?!” He asked high pitched, voice wavering like a string, hand trailing to his heart as his lips quivered in utter shock, and eyes as big as saucers fixed on you filled with horror. The way he wobbled ─ as if he was about to pass out ─ amused you, and you had to fight back a smile as you watched him shaking in fear, pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes for a moment to concentrate.

    “Magic” Chan mocked, flourishing his fingers in the air as a joke, and you burst out laughing, pushing him lightly to scold him “Are all of you dumb like this?” He asked in contempt, and Seungmin didn’t find the courage to answer him right now, so he just stood frozen there “Just like I thought…” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

      “Seungmin, you can’t tell anyone about this” You warned, getting closer to him “Do you understand it?” You asked to make sure, looking deep into his eyes and squeezing his shoulder, tugging him out of his thoughts.

     “Wait! What?!” Chan blurted out, surprised “He won’t say anything because we will kill him, Y/N” Chan declared, confused by your phrasing, getting a questioning look from you; arched brows challenging him silently “He knows” He pointed out, raising his hand to evoke the spear from the ground, not disturbed by your outrage.

     “No, please!” The boy begged, tearing up “Please, spare me! I won’t tell it! I swear!” He kneeled on the ground, hands clasping together in a desperate plead as tears streamed down his face.

    “You can bet I’ll spear you” He spat, raising his weapon.

    “Wait, you can’t just kill him like this!” You protested, rushing to be in front of the boy, arms wide open “Grandma saved him yesterday! He’s not supposed to die yet!” You defended, and this information seemed to perk up the boy, who shot his head up, staring at you dumbfounded before getting up, grabbing your arms excitedly.

    “I knew it wasn’t a dream!” He chirped, hands sliding to your hands to hold them “You sang to me, didn’t you?” He asked flustered, squeezing your hands “The River is flowing… Flowing and growing…” he chanted in a hurried tone, eyes shining as he looked at you “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to offend you!” He widened his eyes, realizing his mistakes, and you shrugged him off, chuckling.

     “That’s okay” You reassured him, squeezing his hands back “Now you know we won’t hurt you—“

     “We?” Chan asked riled up “There is no way I will let him out alive” He said, grabbing your hands and tugging them away, a frown on his face as he glared at the boy “I don’t trust you” He hissed, pointing the sharp metal to Seungmin’s throat, prompting him to gulp down; the boy’s eyes darting to you before focusing on Chan again, cold sweat running down his face.

     “He won’t betray us! He owes us his life” You assured him, gripping his wrist “I know he won’t say it! I just know it! I can feel it in my guts!” You continued eagerly, and for a split of a second Chan glanced at you, wondering.

      “You’re being naive… We can’t trust him” He decided, returning his gaze to the boy.

      “The Wind itself guided me to him!” You insisted “He is the reason why my powers woke up! Nature wants him alive! Please, listen to me” You pleaded, and he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

     “This is ridiculous, you can’t know that for sure” He grumbled, frowning but loosening his grip on the spear “He’s just a human… Nature doesn’t have anything to do with him” He concluded, tightening his grip again, pressing the weapon against the tender skin.

     As if on cue, the wind blew through the trees.

     “It’s just a coincidence” He muttered, averting his eyes to the twirling breeze that swept the leaves around “Also, if we were letting him go alive, we would have to take away his memories again and neither of us knows how to do this…” He pointed out “The bare minimum would be taking him to Yerkir” He stated matter-of-factly.

     “You know far too well that she would kill him!” You accused, pointing your finger at him.

     “If we let him go alive with his memories, she’ll kill us” He reminded you, and you rolled your eyes at him.

     “Listen to me just this once, Chan” You pleaded, cupping his cheek to guide his eyes to meet yours “You are connected to Nature… You have wind running through your veins… Please, make an effort! I know you can listen to it too” You continued, and he sighed under your touch, looking at you in defeat.

      “I can’t believe you’re making me consider it” He complained, retracting his spear from his throat and inhaling deeply before closing his eyes, exhaling slowly. The silence fell upon you three as he took deep breathes ─ a blank expression on his face, as if he was meditating ─ before he extended his hand to touch Seungmin’s face “What the—“ He shot his eyes open, gasping as he looked flabbergasted at the boy, hand jolting away.

     “What? What is it?” You asked curiously, and he threw you a quick look before clearing his throat and fixing himself, hand combing his hair nervously.

     “He’s fine… You can go, mate” He mumbled, nodding to the wood’s entrance. The boy frowned, confused, glancing at you before returning his gaze to him questioningly “What are you waiting for? Just go” Chan growled, and the boy’s curiosity seemed to fade away immediately, prompting him to walk in your way.

     “Thank you so much” He said as he grabbed your hands again, looking too deeply into your eyes for Chan’s taste “I owe you my life” He kissed the back of your hand, making you giggle “Again” He added, chuckling before kissing your knuckles.

     “Stop flirting and go away” Chan rolled his eyes, throwing him a disgusted look.

     The boy trotted away, turning back a few times to wave at you ─ which made the warlock scoff each time, obviously filled with jealousy ─, to what you gestured back, smiling to him. You chuckled and arched your brows, studying how Chan seemed to relax when Seungmin couldn’t be seen anymore, letting out a puff of air that he didn’t realize he was holding in. You nudged him before grinning teasingly, watching as he pursed his lips, averting his eyes from you and resuming his hunting, ignoring the way you looked at him.

     “Jealous, aren’t we?” You asked playfully but he didn’t answer “Hey, why are you acting like this? He’s fine! You saw it yourself! He won’t tell anyone and hopefully, he won’t come back to the woods” You whined, and he sighed, stopping in his tracks.

     “What if I am?” He muttered under his breath, and you tilted your head in confusion “What if I’m jealous?” He clarified, looking directly at you “Why didn’t you tell me that you guys were synchronized?” He asked displeased, averting his eyes ashamed “I’ve heard of it before but… I never met one myself” He sighed, hurt painting his face.

     “What are you talking about?” You asked, bewildered, looking at him as if he had grown a third head.

     “You’re synchronized…” He repeated himself, looking away “There is no way that he would betray you. Ever. Simply meant to be into each other’s life” He mumbled unwillingly.

     “Like a soulmate?!” You blurted out, eyes widened in shock.

     “Yeah…” He bit his lip, uncomfortable “Something like this”

                                                            /////

      The wind brought more voices.

      You stopped your motions for a moment, the knife buried into the meat as you deboned your hunt, wiping your sweat away with your hand and looking around to make sure that no one was talking near you. The indecipherable whisper seemed to increase ─ thousands of voices sounded in your mind at the same time, blabbering in your ears, echoing like leaves rustling in the woods ─ until they morphed into clearer patterns, the voices sounding incredibly clean inside your head.

    She met the boy again, The first understandable sentence echoed like sand falling in an hourglass. Don’t blame me when everything goes down the drain!

    The Earthy Elder.

    It will all be fine… The second voice sounded like a flowing river, calm and determined. Neither of them knows anything.

    Your Grandma.

    I had to tone down her energy again, Wiha… The crackling voice was warm and worried, a warning hanging in the air. I can’t push it away forever and you know it… Her powers got out of control today.

   The Fiery Elder.

    The way her power is manifesting is a bad sign, The soft twinkling voice agreed. If we keep her memories away like this, her powers will keep unstable… At least with a spell of that level.

    The Airy Elder.

     You frowned, pursing your lips as you tried to make sense of their conversation. The Elders were gathering on the tent right now, supposedly discussing the failed attempt to bring back a witch they sensed earlier in the village… The talking didn’t seem to be about it, though. Was it too much of a coincidence that the missing witch met some boy again and had lost control of her powers on the same day as you? The Fiery Elder herself had just said she helped to control this witch’s energy and she wasn’t even in the mission….

   There was no way they weren’t talking about you.

    If Yerkir wasn’t an asshole, she would fix my spell! Your Grandma hissed. You’re egoistic! You know far too well that it is dangerous for her to remind things! Especially since we’ve been lying to her all her life!

  They’ve been lying to you?

    We?! I didn’t want to lie to her! It’s all on you! It’s not my fault you were a coward! Yerkir barked. The girl should know her mother was murdered! You shouldn’t have taken this memory away from her!

   You let your shoulders drop, widening your eyes as you snapped your head to the Tent; mouth falling agape as you registered what they just said. The memory spell… She had used it on you! She had taken away your memories… She has been lying to you all this time… Your mother didn’t die giving birth to you.

   She was murdered.

   She wasn’t prepared! Your Grandmother yelled, and you could even hear the scorn on Yerkir’s voice when she scoffed. And she’s not prepared yet! We can’t have her wanting revenge! She’ll expose us!

   Really? Because I think you are too scared she can hate you now! Yerkir retorted. Her mother was a human, Wiha! They shouldn’t have killed her! She has the right to hate them all! You should hate them too!

   Your mother was a what now?

   You didn’t even know how you got so fast to the tent ─ gale following you closely as Yerkir’s voice hissed a “She’s coming! Everybody quiet!” ─, arms fluttering the entrance’s fabric before you shoot all of them a betrayed look, eyes filled with rage. The wind turmoiled into the place, sending chairs and blankets in a twirl in the air, startling The Elders for a second before Caeli forced everything down with her powers.

   The Elders stood up, attentive to your outburst but clueless, watching as you stormed in to point accusingly to Wiha. You heard some members mumbling behind you, close enough for you to feel them with your energy but not loud enough for you to understand what they were saying, though it was clear they were curious and puzzled.

  The Watery Elder held your wrist, confused by why you were acting like this, looking into your eyes in search of answers that she couldn’t find. You looked back straight at her, eyes watering as you felt your face twisting in a pained expression that baffled her for a moment before you finally decided to speak up.

   “You lied to me!” You growled, tears streaming down your face.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sweetheart” She said calmly, fueling your rage. You yanked your hand away from hers, shooting her a glare before looking to the other elders, lips twisted down in a displeased frown “You should calm down” She suggested, glancing at the others so they could try to soothe you with their magic.  

  “I heard all of it! All of you! You’ve been lying to me my whole life!” You bawled, pressing your eyes for a moment to try and stop the tears “When would you tell me?! When would you say to me that my mother wasn’t a witch?!” You inquired, demanded her to answer you, and she let her mouth fall agape, taken aback by your question.

  “It’s not what it sounds like” She guaranteed, and you scoffed, grimacing at her “You’re a witch, it’s just that—“

   “I don’t want to hear it!” You growled, “I don’t want to hear your lies anymore!” You wailed, turning away “What about the second lesson?!” You asked, stopping in your tracks, face twisted in hurt as she tried to mumble something “What is the second lesson, Wiha?!” You yelled, turning to look at her, catching a glimpse of her disappointment as her name came out of your lips.

   “You’re home here… You don’t know the whole story” She said in a pleading tone, trying to get closer to you “Let me show you… I will give it all back to you” She promised, “You don’t understand…” She continued in a small voice, and you let out a humorlessly chuckle.

   “There is no way I can understand you… I don’t belong here, right?” You smiled bitterly “     Stick to your kind… There is where you will be welcomed and truly loved” You recited, lowering your head for a second “What is it? Something you made up after her death? Something you made up because you were afraid that someone like me would expose you all?” You snarled, resuming your striding.

   “You’re not a human! She wasn’t a witch but—“ She reached for you, grabbing your shoulder and forcefully turning you around to meet her, eager eyes looking to explain everything to you.

   You yanked your arms away from her, the sudden whipping motion blasting air out of nowhere and projecting her body back, knocking her down. The following scenes seemed to run in slow motion, and you stood there dumbfounded as you watched her head hit violently against the stump before thirteen heads snapped at you. The weight of twenty-six eyes filled with fear and perplexity crashed you as you noticed how her limbs went limp, neck wobbling before letting her head fall to the side, unconscious.

   “What is going on?” The Earthy Elder gave some lost steps forward, looking around in confusion, rubbing her feet in the ground and digging them a little, a frown on her face indicating that she couldn’t see anything; probably blinded by the magic running free out of you, “What happened?! Who was it?” She asked again when she met no answers, voice trembling as if she was about to cry.

    The shock gave away to shame.

    The shame gave away to disgus

     The disgust prompted you to run.

      And run you did.  

     You ran for dear life, hoping that somehow you could run away from yourself too as you left the haven behind you to go into the woods. The gale followed you closely, almost morphing into a storm as the sky seemed to darken above you, throwing shadows ahead that suddenly confused you to the core. The so well-known path felt like a maze right now ─ trees seemed to jumble together and the soil seemed too soft for your feet, dragging you as you tried to make your way through it ─, and you were quite sure it didn’t have anything to do with your teary eyes.

    The woods were being enchanted.

    I can’t see anything! I can’t track her! Yekir yelled to the four winds, clearly frustrated, and you could almost hear the way she punched the ground out of frustration, letting go of her pain on each blow.

   Yerkir! Caeli! Enchant it all! Boys! Track her down and bring her back! Isati ordered around like a general, burning in despair. Everyone else into the tent! Now! I need help with Wiha… She finished with a whisper, and you gulped down, filled with guilt, returning your focus to the woods ahead of you.

   The wind suddenly shifted to the left, as if it was calling you there, guiding you through all the magic that fogged your senses, and you followed it gladly, grateful though disoriented. You ignored how everything seemed to drag you down, to bind you and force you to stay. You ignored how you could listen to the boys ─ Chan, Minho, and Changbin ─ screaming your name from somewhere behind you, close enough for you to be sure that it wasn’t the wind anymore. You ignored how your heart faltered when you finally reached the entrance, the village right before your eyes.

     It was beautiful.

      “Y/N!” You closed your eyes, pursing your lips down as you breathed deeply “Y/N, please… Come with me” You turned back to see Chan getting closer to you, eyes so desperate that you almost agreed with him without thinking “They’re waiting for you… I am waiting for you… Please” He pleaded, tearing up.

     “I don’t belong there” You smiled sadly, getting closer to him to cup his cheek, making him lean for your touch “We don’t belong together, Chan” You muttered, fighting back your tears.

     “I love you” He blurted, holding your face with his hands, almost too afraid to touch you, as if he could just shatter you to pieces “I love you… I know we can’t be together yet but it will be just a few months… You will be eighteen and it will be alright… We can be together…” He mumbled, tears rolling down his face as he tried to convince you.

     You were sure that his powers showed he couldn’t.

     “We can run away!” He offered, voice trembling with despair, thin and fragile in the air “I’ll run away with you… We’ll be fine… I—“ He choked on his tears, and you caressed his cheek slowly, lovingly.

     “Stick to your kind, Chan…” You rested your forehead on his, sighing “I can’t truly love you… You said for yourself, didn’t you? I have a soulmate… You were right… We’re not meant to be after all” You grazed your thumb over his bottom lip, diving into his eyes “I’m sorry” You brushed your lips on his, blowing into his mouth before he fell to the ground, asleep.

     Not a real spell but it would have to do for now.

      You turned your back to him, looking up to the dark sky above you; the night already casting your shadows around, prompting people to get inside their houses. You inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, trying to get all your feelings out of your chest. You resumed your running, following the wind and sliding through the houses, being as stealthy as you could even if you didn’t really think that people were still awake by this time.

      The wind suddenly stopped ─ right in front of a small house where a boy held a lamp right before his face, the flames dancing around and casting some lights on him, revealing a blurry figure that you knew to be Seungmin ─, so you just knocked on the door, expectant, waiting for a few moments before the confused boy opened his door to meet you with startled eyes.

      “What are you doing here?” He asked perplexed, studying you from head to toe.

       “I need a favor” You confessed.

       It was time for him to pay his debts.            

[serendipityseulgi]

trust me, and i’ll stay.

— kim taehyung

･*:༅｡ the one where you meet your ex-boyfriend in a frat party bathroom, 90 days after your breakup, loving him just as much as the day he left you.

aka, the reconciliation.

 You sat in silence as you pulled your knees to your chest, burying your head in between your legs as you tried to control your racing mind.

How you landed yourself in this position, locked in the bathroom of a random frat party with your ex-boyfriend was beyond you. But somehow, in your semi-drunken state, as he begged you to talk to him for just a second, you followed suit as he guided you to one of the only quiet rooms he was able to deliver a sentimental apology in.

But right now, as you sit across from him, positions mirroring one another, you couldn’t help but feel your heart break all over again. You stared at him and noticed just how broken he looked. But you knew you looked far worse.

It had been almost three months since your break up, and although 90 days has passed since you last saw him, you couldn’t say you were over him in the slightest. You loved him deeply and he was the only person in this world you wished to have kept in your life forever. And the night that he left you turned your whole world apart in a second.

“I’m sorry you know.” He’s the first one to speak, nearly five minutes since you both entered the bathroom.

You hold your tears in. “I know, Taehyung.” your voice barely louder than a whisper. You felt a lump in your throat as you felt his eyes burning into you. “I’m sorry too.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about though.” he assured you.

You let out a pitiful laugh. “But I do.” you said. “I pushed you away until you couldn’t take it anymore and it’s my fault. I’ll take the blame for it.”

“No but I was a fucking asshole to you that night and you didn’t deserve it.” He said. 

“But you apologized right after so it’s okay.” you assured him.

“It wasn’t enough though.” he spoke softly. “I didn’t do enough to keep you.”

You shut your eyes as a tear falls from your eye, and once again, you bury your head between your knees. You can relay the night of your breakup so clearly that you still have nightmares about it to this very day.

“I’m sorry, I’m not accusing you of anything I-i was just worried!” you defend but your boyfriend is having none of it. 

“It’s always the fucking same shit every other month! Why do you always think I’m going behind your back? We’ve been together for two fucking years, y/n! You would think by this point my girlfriend would have even an ounce of trust in me!” he screamed at you, and you step back from him.

“I’m sorry Tae, I know it was stupid-���

“No, it wasn’t stupid, but it’s the fact that you always come to me with this shit. That I’m cheating on you, that I want to break up, that I’m unhappy! It’s always fucking something with you!” Taehyung is pulling at his hair now and you can tell you’ve stressed him out beyond measure.

“I know, fuck I know!” you cry out. “I’m sorry I keep doing this, I just can’t-”

“Help it! I know!” he interrupts you. “How many times have I heard this excuse before?! Look, I’m sorry you decided to date your fucking piece of shit ex and stay with him for three years while he treatedly you like utter garbage and slept with your best friend, but how long is it gonna take you to realize that I’m not him?! Y/n, I am so sick of your shit and feeling like I’m doing something wrong all the time when I’m not. You are so insecure in this relationship and I just can’t take it anymore! I wasn’t fucking cheating on you, I wasn’t anywhere last night that I didn’t already tell you about. But if you won’t believe me then I’m fucking done with you and this relationship. You make me fucking miserable.”

And just like that he left without another word.

So there you were, in the middle of your living room, unable to even move as you stood there incredulously, shocked at the words that had just left your boyfriend’s mouth. You’re not saying you don’t deserve it, frankly, you probably did. 

You knew this was your toxic trait. Being so insecure. Feeling like you couldn’t trust your own boyfriend even while he proved so many times how loyal he was to you. From all the trauma you endured and emotional abuse that went beyond his cheating in your past relationship, it caused you to feel like Taehyung would do the exact same things to you and hurt just as bad as your ex-boyfriend did. 

For hours you waited for Taehyung to come home, but he never did.

After the fourth hour you texted him.

you; delivered 3:23 am

i’m sorry tae.

i’ll work on my issues.

i won’t take it out on you anymore, you don’t deserve it and i’m sorry.

justplease come back.

You didn’t receive a reply till the next hour.

baby <3; received 4:22 am

y/n i really can’t do it anymore.

i love you and i want the best for you, and i really do hope you work things out for yourself

but i just can’t be with you anymore.

i’m sorry for the things i said to you, but there were some parts of that i meant. and ifeel like an asshole for saying it out loud, but i’m not happy with you anymore.

When you read those four texts you swore you never felt your heart break so bad before. It was genuine pain that you felt, far worse than when you caught your ex and your best friend in bed with one another, far worse than when you found out she wasn't the only one he’d been with, and far worse than when you finally left him.

you; delivered 4:25 am

oh

okay.

i understand.

So here you were crying uncontrollably, knowing your insecurities ruined the only stable relationship you’ve ever had. And now you had to sit with the fact that you were what drove the love of your life away.

“Taehyung why did you bring me in here?” you ask, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

“Because I love you.” he chuckled sadly. “And I need to apologize properly. For just leaving you like that. I should’ve worked through it with you instead of bailing. And I’ve regretted it every single day since it happened.”

You rest your head against the bathroom door and sigh heavily, unable to look your ex-boyfriend in the eye. 

“But like you said, you meant what you said right? Some of it.” you confirmed. “And I don’t blame you at all for feeling that way. Which is why I don’t want to put you through all that again.”

Taehyung shakes his head, scooting closer to you and you stop him. “Don’t, Taehyung.”

“Y/n, please hear me out.” he sniffles, and you look up at him. He’s crying as much as you are and your heart completely shatters.

“I am-”

“I don’t want you to think you’re putting me through that again.” he interrupts. “Sana talked to me, and she told me you promised to work on yourself. And she said you have, and I believe her.”

“You talked to her?”

“I’ve been asking about you since the day we split.” Taehyung said. “As angry as I was with you that night and for a few weeks after that, I still loved you more than anything and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You sighed.

“Y/n, I wouldn’t be here right now asking to talk to you if I knew you didn’t love me anymore. Because I know you do, and you need to know that I still love you so fucking much that my heart constantly fucking hurts when you’re not with me.”

“Why didn’t you reach out sooner?” you asked him.

“I was ashamed. After what I said to you I didn’t know if you would forgive me at all and I don’t know if I even deserve it but Sana told me it was worth a try. So I had to try.”

“I can’t promise things will be perfect though.” you say.

“I don’t need them to be. I just need to know that you’ll trust me.” Taehyung pleads.

He’s so close to you now that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, and it feels so familiar yet so foreign.

 “I understand why you can’t sometimes. And I shouldn’t have ever brought your ex-boyfriend up to make you feel bad. I know that it isn’t your fault why you have a hard time in relationships. I get why. Which is why all I ask is that you try and trust me the best you can because I love you so much and I could never hurt you the same way. And I won’t give up again like I did last time if you just give me another chance. Can we try again, baby, please?”

And the name you missed hearing so badly brought you to near tears all over again. 

All you can do is nod at him and it’s enough for him to bring you in his arms. “I love you, Tae.” you murmur against his chest, and you feel him hug you tighter against him. 

“We’ll make it work okay, baby?” he holds your face in his hands and you nod at him. “I love you so much, y/n.”

And he kisses you deeply, for the first time in forever and you let yourself appreciate the feeling of his lips on yours. You hold onto him, not caring about the fact that you both needed air to breath. You’re both crying as taste the bitterness of your tears, and the kiss is messy and heavy and intense — but you don’t care.

You’ll try for him. He deserves that much.

When you finally pull away he says nine words that you’ll always remember whenever you feel in doubt. Because one thing’s for sure, as long as you try, Taehyung will stay by you through it at all.

“Just trust me, and I’ll stay.” Taehyung says. “I’ll always stay.”

[ralthings]

A Give-and-Take Relationship

I found this really great analysis on Khun Bam relationship on Lofter, by ytaamiacthoi. Thought I’d translate it here for everyone to see. 

This was posted after S3 Ch66. Do not read if you have not caught up yet. 

The translation begins. 

SIU is really good in this. There’s always contrast in the development and expression of their relationship. 

For both of them, their feelings always mirror each other, there’s give and take between them, I refuse to believe that it’s not carefully crafted on purpose, even how they overcame the traumas of their past are compared with each other. Let’s not go into details here, but start with more obvious examples. The ones that left a deeper impression on me are these three incidents, for instance, the two times when they hugged each other (of course even when SIU didn’t draw it out they probably hugged countless of times before this) 

Bam rushes towards Khun. 

Khun rushes towards Bam.

Doesn’t it feel like returning home? It’s totally rushing back to where you belong.

When both of them run towards each other, they adapted a pose of acceptance and support. In the first instance, Khun just recovered and didn’t want Bam to worry. Similarly, Bam didn’t want Khun to worry under those circumstances. 

On the other hand, Hwaryun and Bam is kind of like how Isu is to Khun. They’re both “friends” or “sibling”-like characters whom they share a close bond and can have heart-to-heart talks with.

Hwaryun’s famous quote: Hey, it was Khun, not me!

Bam didn’t think that Khun made him do it. Whatever Khun says, he’ll accept it all. Basically Bam wouldn’t blame Khun. It clearly shows that Khun has a different status in Bam’s heart. 

This concept also reappeared later, unusually conspicuously, in Bam’s attitude towards “Khun using the dead souls to revive White”. 

Everyone knows about this double standard Khun applies:

[TN: author refers to the fact that Khun refused to let anyone touch his head, but pats Bam’s head like there’s no tomorrow] 

Next let’s look at how important they are towards each other: 

Khun expressed his fear in losing Bam, and made a request. 

This is the first time Bam explicitly made a request of Khun. And the main point Bam focused on is Khun’s safety - White isn’t a nice person after all: Bam is also afraid of losing Khun. 

It’s a little different from the request to climb the tower together. Here, it’s more like both are making a request during the process of fostering an intimate bond, telling the other half your needs, in order to fortify the relationship. 

Khun’s love has the characteristics of sacrifice and contribution, while Bam’s has the characteristics of “acceptance”. Acceptance meaning - I know all of your strengths and flaws, but I will embrace them, and I won’t dislike you for them. It’s not about liking you because of what you did, but accepting all of you because it’s you. 

Personally I think Khun is attracted to this aspect of Bam: Khun also needs salvation. He needs to be valued as he is, to be loved as he is. And not to have his value judged by his abilities, or whether he is useful to others - Bam gave Khun this sense of security from the very beginning. With his actions, Bam showed Khun that he is irreplaceable, and one of a kind. That Khun does not need to be a tool, or to desperately showcase his “usefulness” to others. That Bam can forgive and accept all of Khun, and that Khun’s existence is the most precious part about him. 

And when Khun wants retract into his shell, Bam would reach out to him gently.

Bam is very careful. He doesn’t want to lose Khun, but he is also very respectful of Khun’s wishes.

At any rate who asked Khun to only fall for this lmao

But firstly Khun is already used to doing this, and secondly Bam appears to be kind to everyone (although the reasons for doing so are different), a lot of people helped out as well. Both their relationship are gradually developed throughout the years. 

Why is that Bam always reaches out to Khun at the right time? Because whenever Khun gives his attention to Bam, Bam would immediately pick up on it. Bam would always give his undivided attention to Khun. Whether there’s something wrong with Khun, whatever Khun needs, Bam is able to tell at first glance. (It’s a type of instinct developed from attentiveness, understanding and trust over the long term) Just because Bam doesn’t say it, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know.

Take note, that Khun responds to tenderness rather than tough love. Both their emotions are connected, whenever Khun blames himself or self-reflects, it’s often built upon him noticing Bam’s concerns / worries about him. (For the rest, it’s when Khun experiences helplessness towards Bam’s sufferings, that is Khun’s intrinsic concerns and worries for Bam).

And Bam had, before this, sacrificed himself for Khun for as long as six years (to protect Khun and others, he stayed by himself in FUG. This is something Khun will always remember). 

Bam is also first person to place unconditional trust in Khun.

Since before it all began, Khun had already received very precious things from Bam. 

To be honest, Bam’s powers had a similar quality - absorption / acceptance. Examples: extremely fast learning speed (acceptance of knowledge), the souls from White, Thorn, Red Thryssa etc. (makes it like a minimart....) I think perhaps the quality of the irregulars’ powers have some connection with their personalities. Of course this is not the main point. 

Bam’s acceptance towards the others is different from Khun. Back when he just entered the tower, he exhibited this quality fully. When Black March asked if Rachel is the most beautiful woman in the tower, Bam replied: 

For the current Bam, this place is already taken by Khun. 

Khun isn’t as perfect as his appearance; impatient, likes to complain, always lies to himself, but these doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that Khun is the most precious person to Bam. 

Bam also expresses his acceptance and accommodation towards Khun in their relationship. On one hand, Khun always goes with Bam’s decisions; but in terms of emotions, Bam goes with Khun’s. Whenever Khun wishes to provide, Bam would accept all of it, without any hints of rejection. Khun needs Bam to need him; accepting Khun’s providence is the best reciprocation Bam can give to Khun. Bam gave Khun a form of acceptance without words. Khun didn’t want Bam to know, and Bam, knowing this, didn’t look too deeply into it. But in reality Bam understands this clearer than anyone else. 

When Bam faces others, he’s actually the type to keep a distance, and not accept others easily, nor rely or depend on others. If Bam’s acceptance towards the others originate from his values of respect and quality, his acceptance towards Khun stems from the fact that Khun is too important to him. 

Khun’s emotions towards Bam is very well expressed in the original webtoon, so it won’t be elaborated much here. But an important point is: Bam gave Khun a sense of “security”, as if he became a “person”. Khun also gave Bam a safe harbour, and helped him achieve his growth. They help each other become a better version of themselves. They look out for each other’s real selves, their fragility, and work hard to understand and accept each other. 

There’s a need to repost this screenshot again: 

If it wasn’t for the fact that this is honestly extremely dangerous, that one wrong move and Khun could’ve been eaten by White, Bam would probably just go along with Khun and pretend not to know about this. 

Because Bam knows that Khun doesn’t want him to know. 

And Khun also probably guessed that Bam knows Khun doesn’t want to let him know. 

And Khun immediately knew the hidden meaning between the lines, he knew what Bam was trying to say as soon as Bam spoke the above lines to him: Khun, I still ended up using the souls’ power, what should I do? 

A very helpless feeling. It’s a concern towards Khun, an assurance towards Khun, an understanding of Khun. (1. I know you did this for me. 2. I understand you, it’s alright even if you did this, I won’t hate you, you are still the most important person to me), and also a help signal to Khun (even I didn’t notice Bam’s sign for help). 

Only Khun could comprehend Bam’s thoughtfulness, his kind but sensitive heart, and his lack of security. Khun understood that, and took the initiative to reach out. Similarly, he told Bam, and held him: Don’t be afraid, I’ll forgive you, and accept/embrace all of you. 

Bam also understand Khun too well. They need each other, hopes that they will be needed by each other, and also knows what they have done for each other. 

When Bam is hurt, he actually likes to retreat to himself, like a crab or snail - he needs a gentle tug, not a rough one - to come out of it. 

They honestly understand each other’s feelings

Last point - when Khun began to hug Bam, his body was leaning forward. But as you read, you’ll realise that Khun gradually straightened his back, and Bam finally grasped Khun’s back tightly. This means that with Khun’s initial hug, Bam relaxed from an uptight state, and wilfully buried himself into Khun’s embrace, to consciously seek help from Khun. In front of Khun, Bam easily let his guard down, instead of trying to push through. Khun also accepted Bam’s display of weakness; just like how Bam naturally accepted all of Khun. At this moment, they are not in the middle of a war, just them in each other’s tight embraces. This is a space that belongs to just two of them. 

Here Khun was still actively pulling Bam into his embrace

Here, Khun had straightened his back, and Bam was basically burying himself into Khun’s embrace.

Khun’s back is straightened. 

Perhaps the shift in stance and center of gravity symbolises the state of their emotions as they journeyed together. Their relationship is dynamic, spiralling upwards, and here it achieves its balance. 

Ahh they basically assimilated each other into their own lives

I really think Bam probably cried

Bam wouldn’t do this to any other person. 

And among the reasons for Bam’s feelings of self-blame, it likely includes his guilt towards Khun. It’s him who gave Khun no choice but to face such danger, but even when faced with this choice, he really doesn’t want to lose Khun at all. How helpless, perhaps it’s only through the embrace that they can truly acknowledge each other. 

At this moment, the hug is more than a thousand words. 

To add to this, I’ve read stories where there are various stages of relationship during a disaster - when they don’t know each other well, the girl would probably say “don’t leave me alone”, after a while, she’d probably say “just leave me and save yourself”, but at the current stage, the girl doesn’t need to say anything, because she understood the importance of trust in each other. 

Khun and Bam probably reached this final stage: they work with each other, need each other, trust each other, rely on each other. They won’t leave each other from now on, because they are already inseparable. 

You ask what kind of relationship this is? It’s just this, really can’t fit a third party in so what’s the difference in definition. At any rate their relationship can be of any nature, play any role for each other, but basically they are the only one in each other’s lives. 

I really suspect that Bam’s acceptance towards Khun had reached the point where no matter what Khun wants, what Khun becomes (in terms of relationship), he would accept it gracefully (as long as Khun needs it). Even though Bam’s acceptance seems to have no ceiling to it, but Khun wouldn’t abuse it. Khun seems to approach his relationships with some sort of sacred, selfless sacrifice, he wouldn’t think about tainting his sacred relationship with Bam. Sorry I’m a little delusional here. 

But who says Love is only limited to romantic love. I think they can be anything for each other. No matter what, they are the most important, and the most special in each other lives, something that’s irreplaceable by anyone. 

They can stop climbing the tower, but they can’t not have each other.

In the end:

Contrast before and after the hug:

Before the hug:

Bam is completely disoriented. 

(Yama comments that he’s in an excellent state. Just look at his face how is this state excellent at all lol)

After the hug:

Bam is obviously much better. Determined and calm. Maybe this is the power of love? 

Actually objectively speaking, it’s the right decision to continue attacking the Nest right after. Hwaryun’s verdict is the the same as what Khun usually would’ve taken for others, what Hwaryun said is also what Khun usually would’ve told others. But in this case, the person in question is Bam. 

You can’t think straight when it’s the person you care about.

Adding Hwaryun’s comments: 

[nat-20s]

MEDIA THAT I RECOMMEND YOU CONSUME INSTEAD OF SUPERNATURAL FOR BOTH HEART AND HEALTH BROKEN DOWN BY TYPE OF MEDIA AND WHY YOU MIGHT LIKE IT IF AT ANY POINT YOU, LIKE MY POOR POOR SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD SELF, WERE INVESTED IN THIS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE FIRE OF A SHOW

with apologies to anyone on mobile who’s readmore function APPARENTLY doesn’t work

(I haven’t watched supernatural for at least five years and, given any sort of luck, I will never do so again, do not @ me)

hello babes. I am talking to you know bc I keep seeing supernatural, unironically, on my dash, and I think we can all do better. I see what’s happening and I think: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hU3i_o5Xd4g

Supernatural is fudge stripes. You are Megan. We can fix this.

So a list of alternate things that I think are overall better written/characterized/just generally more enjoyable that might scratch some of those itches:

TV SHOWS

Good Omens

okay look if u were on tumblr last year u probably already watched this show but like. If u haven’t, it’s only six episodes babe and there’s a large enough fandom that u can go down a fanart hole for days on end

Basic summary: the antichrist has reached that lovely young age where he’s supposed to bring about the apocalypse. An angel and a demon who have decided that actually they like the world as is, thank you very much, try to stop the end times. They’re not very good at it though, which makes for a comedy of errors.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: theologic (mostly christian) exploration/parody/imagery without inherently being a religious show. Fighting off the apocalypse narrative, which I think pretty much always goes hard as hell, but that’s just me. There’s a gay angel who’s socially awkward. There’s a fun very British demon. Touches on the hierarchies of heaven and hell, with framing Heaven as a bureaucracy and blurs the differences between angels and demons.  Pining. Tenderness. A deep nostalgia for 80s music, though in this case it’s specifically queen, and who doesn’t love queen. Main character has a weirdly strong bond with his black vintage car.  Satan is (sort of) fought.

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Gravity Falls

sometimes...things that are kids shows...with a set story and a predetermined ending...are better

(also this isn’t relevant to any of what I’m talking about but I really appreciate that Gravity Falls specifically went against the thing that most begged me about ATLA aka that a 15 year old girl would be like yeah I’m into a 12 year old boy because the 12 year old boy has a crush on me and I apparently don’t get to really have a say in this. How does that make sense.)

Basic Summary: Twelve year old twins Dipper and Mabel go to stay with their Grunkle Stan for the summer in a small Oregon town called Gravity Falls. Turns out this town is filled with all sorts of strange phenomena that they often have to confront, work around, learn about, or befriend!

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: The core focus of the show is a close sibling duo, but like It’s obvious that the siblings actually like and love each other and while they have their spats it’s still incredibly clear that they deeply care about each other even with their differences LIKE SORRY SUPERNATURAL YOU CAN’T JUST TELL ME THAT SIBLINGS CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER AND THEN THEY SPEND ALL THEIR TIME FIGHTING AND LYING TO EACH OTHER AND GENERALLY ACTING LIKE THEY CAN’T STAND EACH OTHER’S COMPANY BUT THEN OOOHHH YOU CRY ON TOP OF THE HOOD OF A CAR EVERY THREE EPISODE AND SUDDENLY THEY’RE SOULMATES OR WHATEVER

Anyway. Yeah. GF has a solid sibling dynamic. Monster of the week that builds up to greater over-arching plot. A little bit of body horror, you know, for humor. Fair amount of meta humor playing with the tropes of the genre. A Good Ol Big Bad that tries to pit the siblings against each other. Have to fight the apocalypse (you’ll see this point on like a good half of these recs, I really like ‘what are we gonna do about Armageddon’ media). Interesting creature design. Planned, satisfying ending (which supernatural absolutely does not have, but I still think if it had ended with the season 5 finale like it uhh  pretty obviously was supposed to, that would sort of counted. Don’t revive shows that have clearly already told their stories kids.) Tie in media that gives you some fun extra stories when you miss the characters. (yes I read some of the supernatural novels when I was a c h i l d, yes I’m pretty sure there’s one or two of them still buried somewhere on my laptop, no I don’t wanna talk about it.) Older father figure (?) who owns a tbh kind of shitty shop. Both already in place and found family.

It’s a good show, and it’s two seasons. John Mulaney Voice: I dunno it’s 40 episodes

MINI REC ALERT! (mini recs are basically things that I’m not gonna go into detail about for whatever reason [probably either due to i’m not familiar enough with it OR I just don’t like. Have a bunch to say about it in regards to how it will scratch the itches presented to u by spn] but still seem like a Good Watch)

Mini Rec: Over The Garden Wall. Spooky Kids Media! Episodic! Miniseries so you can watch it in like 2 hours! Cool ass Animation! About two brothers encountering said spooky stuff! Big Bad tries to pit brothers against each other! Might haunt you for the rest of your life! Check it out!

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The Haunting of Bly Manor

I think about this show every goddamn day of my life. (Also not relevant but Greg Sestero makes a brief cameo in it and I was like hi greg my friend greg!)

Basic Summary: An girl named Dani, while staying in London, decides to take on an Au Pair job for two young children, an older brother named Miles (age 10) and the younger sister Flora (age 8) at the spoooooky and mysteeerious Bly Manor, and she gets far more than she bargained for.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Okay so supernatural doesn’t actually do this but I know I KNOW why we let ourselves be queerbaited in 2012. Four words for you: CENTRAL! GAY! TRAGIC! ROMANCE! You want some pining? Some tenderness? Some LOVE? Some dealing with internalized homophobia but no, like, actual violent onscreen homophobia? HAVE I GOT THE SHOW FOR YOU. If ur favorite episodes where the ones that make you sob (for me it was kevin’s death on god), I recommend this show. If you wished that supernatural literally ever had consequences or perma deaths or didn’t retcon major plot events like every five goddamn episodes so that there could be some exploration of like grief and trauma through the lens of/ higher stakes of horror, I recommend this show. If you really do stay up at night picturing a supernatural that wasn’t made by dumbass cishettie white men hack writers but was actually allowed to have Dean and Cas be in love over the course of the show so they could have like actual development and not the most homophobic gay reveal of all time, I recommend this show. Hell, if you just want a banger ghost story in general, I recommend this show.

As for what they actually have in common: horror setting/aesthetic without actually being all that scary most of the time. A strong sibling duo, though they’re not nearly as much of the focus of Bly Manor. Found family. Strong themes of grief. Questions of what turns someone into a monster (and done much better) An actual, much better noble sacrifice done out of love. Escalation of stakes until there’s a big final confrontation. Semi-big bad trying to tear this family apart. Found and pre-installed family. Sad orphans.

Watch this show. Vibe with me. Cry with me. Yell at me about Owen Sharma

MINI REC ALERT!

Haunting of Hill House- spiritual predecessor to Haunting of Bly Manor, though they’re not actually the same universe/story. However, it’s made by the same dude and has a shared aesthetic/sensibilities/some of the cast. This is only a mini rec bc I haven’t actually seen it, but I’ve heard good things and that it, while much more heavily leaning into family dynamics, has similar themes of exploring Grief and Trauma through ghooossstttsss.

~~

Community

Okay I know that this may seem like a Wild rec considering community is a school sitcom with basically Zero paranormal elements but just like. Hear me out. And no this isn’t just because I think it’s a realy good show and I want more people to watch it, though that is a factor. If I was just recommending comedies that I think are good and more people should watch regardless of them serving as a replacement for supernatural I would demand you all go watch Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I’m gonna demand it anyway. Everyone go watch Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Now back to your original program:

Basic Summary: A group of students at Greendale Community College form a Spanish study group, and things quickly go Off The Fucking Rails in the best way possible.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: All right I’m gonna be real honest this rec is for all of my (correct) bitches who’s favorite episodes of Supernatural were French Mistake, Changing Channels, and/or Mystery Spot. You think if Supernatural would’ve been fucking fantastic if it had been a committed comedy instead of a CW melodrama that occasionally landed some admittedly really fucking funny episodes/concepts, Community (and the movies on this list) will gently take you into its loving arms and give you everything you desire. It’s about the Meta comedy. It’s about the discussion, exploration, and subversion of common tropes within the format. It’s about the grand use of group/ found family dynamics in order to max both the goofs and the heart. It’s about fantastic callbacks. It’s about having one of the few “asshole with a heart of gold” leads I can actually stand because. You know. Growth. It’s about the INCREDIBLE genre and  pop culture parody. Which genre do they parody, you ask. All of them. They parody all the genres. The glee parody episode is a fucking masterpiece of television. If you don’t want to watch a show that features a Halloween party where everyone turns into zombies and the ABBA discography blasts in the background, you can stop reading right now, because I can guarantee you won’t be interested in a damn thing I have to say.

MINI REC ALERT: The X-Files. I’ve also never seen this but a: everything I’ve seen out of context has been fantastically weird and delightful b: it appears that there’s a general consensus that Scully and Mulder are one of the only valid straight couples so it’s probably pretty fun and c: let’s all be honest. Supernatural was already basically an x-files rip off, it had like half of their original writers swiped from the x-files crew, I’m pretty sure if you liked especially the first couple of seasons of supernatural, you’re gonna like the X-files.

~~

Subcategory: TV SHOWS ( A WHOLE TWO OF ‘EM, OR MORE LIKE ONE AND HALF IF YOU WANNA GET TECHNICAL) I’M SPECIFICALLY RECOMMENDING FOR THAT COCAINE HIT OF PURE UNADULTERATED UNCUT 2012 TUMBLR NOSTALGIA

BBC Merlin

Yes, I know the show ended in 2010. Yes, it still provides that 2012 Tumblr nostalgia. 2012 Tumblr is a feeling, not an actual time period.

I love this stupid show. I plan on rewatching it all over the month of January. I harbor a deep amount of fondness for it. It’s why every time I see literally any depiction of Merlin I get just so fucking excited, and why I’ve consumed as many ridiculous Arthurian adaptations as I have (side note: my two favorite other ridiculous Arthurian legend adaptation are Avalon High, a DEEPLY silly DCOM that is required viewing to level up friendship with me, and The Kid Who Would Be King, which is the only movie that I think truly understands the comedic potential of playing a King Arthur Adaptation mostly straight but everyone in it is 12. I’m not sure it intended to be as fucking funny as it was, but again, they’re all middle schoolers. I have never been more jealous of an actor than I was of the 22 year old that got to play a 16 year old dumbass Merlin who was sometimes also Patrick Stewart and did all of his magic with ridiculous hand gestures That should’ve been me that should’ve been me that should’ve been me. Also Sword in the Stone by TH White is pretty good, because Merlin knows germ theory in the fantasy 400’s and he just uses it to be petty mostly. Also listen to High Noon Over Camelot by The Mechanisms. Also Also I tend to prefer family friendly adaptations because they don’t have the uhhh. You know. Incest and sexual violence of the original legend. Love to Not have that shit!) Whether you watched it initially and are due for a rewatch, or you’re intrigued enough by the concept of the show to watch it for the first time, you should join me on this wild wild ride.

Basic Summary: You know who Guinevere, Arthur, and Merlin are, come on. BBC said let’s make em all YOUNG let’s make em SEXY let’s make em FAMILY FRIENDLY and let’s make magic REALLY SEEM LIKE A THINLY VEILED ALLEGORY FOR BEING GAY BUT TO THIS DAY IM NOT SURE IF THAT WAS INTENTIONAL OR NOT BUT IT SURE SEEMS LIKE IT WAS. @ THE BBC MERLIN CREATORS WHAT IS THE TRUTH BECAUSE THERE WAS SOME INTERVI-

Basic Summary but like a bit more helpful: A BABY version of Merlin (and by baby I mean like 20 year old.) is sent from his small town to the big city the Kingdom of Camelot to find his destiny. Staying with the town physician and friend of his mom’s, Gaius, he ends up as both his assistant and personal manservant to Prince Arthur. But in a kingdom where magic is punished with death and the prince seems hell bent on getting himself into situations that are going to kill him, the young sorcerer has his more than his share of work cut out for him.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Primo supremo queerbaiting. Like, yeah, okay, it’s queerbaiting, you know it’s queerbaiting, but you watch some of the scenes and ur like okay. I know why I let this bait me. Obviously with a modern show, I would expect more, I would expect better, I would raise my standards, but I gotta admit. Some of these scenes are fuckin compelling as hell, and the subtext is like barely sub. Monster of the week shenanigans. Some awful CGI creatures but like a charming awful. Like the kind of awful that tells you their very limited budget was more focused on cool swords than realistic creatures. Episodic stories build into a more overarching plot, with things getting darker in season 4/5. Shitty father that end up eating shit and while the son of said father is rightfully conflicted and upset over the death it’s cathartic and victorious as all hell for the audience. Multiple hot evil women, and I love hot evil women. There’s also nice hot women, which is a bonus. These women don’t all immediately stupidly die, so that’s a nice change. Also like a LOT of sarcastic humor and shenanigans if u like Sass Merlin is there for u personally name a more iconic line than “Oh I’m sorry, how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?” AND THAT’S IN THE FIRST FUCKIN EPISODE brilliant amazing fantastic show stopping. Also you know those like dumb hijink episodes where like Dean was possessed by the spirit of a dog or some shit? You bet your bottom fuckin dollar BBC Merlin has those kinds of storylines. Also I know some people go to spn bc it had that HUGE fanbase and like BBC Merlin’s fanbase is still SURPRISINGLY poppin even though it’s been a decade since there was new content so like. Have fun!

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Doctor Who but Specifically the RTD Era

Look I’m not here to say that the first four seasons of reboot doctor who are the only good doctor who or inherently better than all the rest (though the RTD era is my favorite personally) BUT when ur seekin that sweet sweet superwholock frenzy nostalgia, this is the ‘who’ that is being referred to. Also like. Stan 9. We should all collectively stan the ninth doctor. Chris Eccleston, the Objectively Best Famous Chris, deserved better.

Basic Summary: An immortal alien that goes by “The Doctor” travels across time and space with a variety of different companions, often to try and save the day or fix a (sometimes self created) mess. It’s distilled campy sci-fi with a family friendly tone that has made me cry on several occasions.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Monster of the week that, you guessed it, builds into bigger overarching plot style narrative. Fighting off the apocalypse, but like every couple of weeks because worlds are in danger a LOT. A semi-tragic romance that made people go absolutely buck fuckin wild bc pining n shit. Wamen, but they aren’t fridged. (actually for real though none of the main women die and I just think that’s really fun and flirty even though I could go on a COMPLETELY SEPARATE rant about the injustice of one of the character’s ending YES season 4 is my favorite season and one of my favorite pieces of media ever and I am currently actively recommending it to you  YES im still fucking pissed over how it ended YES we exist) Specifically, a Wonderful and Very Excellent woman named Donna who goes on a spa trip that doesn’t end up going very well. That seems like a highly specific example, and it is, but it did happen in both shows. (Also, to anyone that continued watching SPN after like idk season 9 what happened to Donna? I always liked her and I know she became a recurring character so like DM whatever probably injustice was the end of her story line pls and thank you) I’m also extra specifically recommending for Supernatural Fans and also The World At Large:  Season Four of Reboot Who. I rewatched it last year and it still goes so fucking hard. Donna Noble is the best character in existence. In regards to the appeal for SPN, personally I think the best part of SPN was when people who are soulmates went on adventures and tried to save the day and it was a good mix of banter and sincerity AND GUESS WHAT’S BASICALLY THE ENTIRETY OF SEASON 4 OF DOCTOR WHO. It’s so good y’all I wish Everything was about soulmates going on adventures and trying to save the day.

OKAY TV SHOWS DONE TIME FOR M O V I E S which I don’t have nearly as many recs for but uhh here goes

What We Do In The Shadows/ Shaun of the Dead

I’m lumping these two together bc my reasons for recommending them are largely the same, and I would call them tonally similar enough that if you like one you’ll probably like the other

Basic Summary (Shaun of The Dead): Uh-oh! London’s had a break out of some of that good ol’ zombieism. Shaun and friends decide to hunker down in a local bar, but they have to get there first. Will they survive? Will they fuck up some zom zoms? Who’s to say?

Basic Summary (What We Do In The Shadows): Some vampire roommates dick around. I think there’s technically, like, a plot, but it’s really just about some vampires Doin Their Thing. Vibin.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: This is kind of similar to the Community recommendation, in that supernatural had the opportunity to be one of those things that was both a parody of a genre but also just a really good example of the genre. WWDITS and SotD are both those things for vampire and zombly movies, respectively. Have the aesthetic and some of the themes of a horror but is not actually all that scary. Horror Comedy is a god tier genre and I don’t know why it’s not more widespread. Fun monsters/cast of characters in general, so at least one person in it is probably going to make you go “oh gender” ya know? With SotD you have the fantasy power trip that comes with like any piece of media that involves hunting monsters. With WWDITS I go “yep that’s how bisexuals dress” and I Will Not Clarify which character I’m talking about.

MINI REC ALERT: All of Taika Watiti’s filmography. Thor:Ragnarok is one of like 3 marvel movies that I consider genuinely fucking fantastic completely independent of the MCU and my own tendency to be like “hurr bdurr I love. Superheros”. For the one that is most tonally like Supernatural But Significantly Better and Written By Someone Competent I think I would say try out Hunt For The Wilderpeople. It’s got a reluctant curmudgeonly father figure and I KNOW some of you motherfuckers were so invested in spn when you were like 16 bc you had daddy issues. This is a callout post for my friend [REDACTED], who I should text to watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople, actually.  

MINI REC ALERT X2!!!: Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’ve never seen it but it has both Winona Ryder AND Keanu Reaves so like. Goth bi rights.

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Happy Death Day (and Happy Death Day 2 U)

happy death day was one of those movies that I saw the trailer, went “eh”, heard other people say it was great, watched, and went holy fuck this slaps. Not nearly as much of a slasher film as the trailers implied if im remembering the trailer correctly

Basic Summary: Our main character Tree keeps waking up on the day she was murdered. The day resets every time that she dies. That’s right, it’s a time loop storey babey!!!!!!!!!!!

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: If you were anything like me you were foolishly lulled into supernatural for way longer than you should’ve been on the promise that the characters would idk like grow and change and become better and learn lessons and some of that would be through the power of receiving love and kindness. You know. Like how good writers would do it especially if their main characters are kind of dicks that really should make some changes. Well, Happy Death Day fucking delivers on that promise in SPADES. It’s about growth! It’s about change! It’s about making the active decision to become a better person and putting effort into doing so! There’s heavy themes of like grief and trauma and acknowledging them and facing them head on in order to move on and the negative consequences of refusing to do so and just trying avoid it until it goes away. There’s a romance that makes my dumb little self do the pleading face emoji. Tree is also one of the only good asshole with a heart of gold characters. I also think media is improved by having at least one character that is a Good Good Boy (note: Good Good Boy character does not have to be a man.) and Happy Death Day has Carter. Oh on that note: Tree Voice: I’ve only had character for (the same repeating over and over) a day but if anything happens to him I’ll kill everyone here and then myself. Also the movie is funny so like hell yeah.

that’s all I got for relevant movies right now

BOOK RECS

jk i’m illiterate. Everyone should feel free to go ahead and add their own suggestions for this section The best I can do is uhhhh I think y’all would probably like Mira Grant’s novels, particularly the Newsflesh stories, bc sibling dynamics. Also the book The Haunting of Hill House is really good. Ballad of Black Tom slaps? There’s of course the Good Omens novel that the show was based on. I’m about to recommend some podcasts after this section which will include to Welcome to Nightvale because of course it will and the tie in novels for that slap, especially It Devours!, and I’m pretty sure they work as stories even if you know nothing about the podcast. Also also I think you should read “The Long Way to A Small, Angry Planet” by Becky Chambers It’s not thematically similar to supernatural at all but it’s one of my all time favorite sci fi novels and only like four people have read it which is a goddamn TRAVESTY.

Anyway yeah that’s it that’s all there is. Onto the medium that is like books but I can fold laundry or cook while consuming their narratives.

PODCAST RECS

Okay so this is getting uhhh wicked long so I’m gonna limit myself to only three full blown recs and a

mini rec

Alice Isn’t Dead

Fuck me running this show is so good. Literally hands down my all time favorite (and scariest!) horror podcast. Mamma mia, that’s a good fuckin story. The Book version is also good and has fewer Weird events but some further character development so I recommend them both.

Basic Summary: After her wife Alice disappears mysteriously, Keisha takes up a job as a long haul trucker, traveling all across America in order to find her, but ends up finding so much. Pursued by a deadly creature she calls The Thistle Man, the stakes of her journey are raised.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: okay so I have a lost of bullet points of things that appealed to me specifically about supernatural and how no other shows covers all of them which sucks bc it means I basically Yearn for a show that’s supernatural but good. Alice isn’t Dead, however, hits the most of these bullet points AND is so fucking good. It has monster hunting. It has stopping a cataclysmic event BUT also discussion of the cyclical nature of events such as these and how the fight never truly ends but you can make some fucking progress nonetheless. It has a central gay romance that’s actually a central gay romance. It’s the ONLY show on this list that really hits that the weird and dark underside of americana vibe but specifically the americana of not like suburbs and shit but that eerie haunted feeling you get when you’re hours into a late night drive on open roads with no civilization around and an expansive sky and it just Seems like something should be watching you. Have you ever been out for a walk at midnight and encountered a deer and you looked into each other’s eyes and it felt like it was telling you a message that you couldn’t possibly hope to parse? Have you ever felt an incredible sense of deja vu eating in a restaurant you couldn’t have possibly been in before, because you’ve been to a thousand diners a thousand times just like one, and there’s an incredibly sense of homogeneity even though you’re 2000 miles away from anyone and anything that could possibly know you? Have you ever traveled to an area that seems to be stuck in a bubble of time, the only thing that shows any evidence of having aged past 2006 being yourself, and you wonder how your cell phone even works around here? THAT’S the spooky americana I’m fuckin talking about! Messed up road trips! Too much goddamn space! America is scary because it’s big and Filled With Things but also Not Enough Things! Fuck yeah!!!!! That time bubble fuckin EXISTS in Wyoming the most recent song on the radio I heard was fuckin Hey Soul Sister!

Also has a thing where like are there even good guys and bad guys in a conflict or is it all just one umbrella nightmare that you’re trying to stand against in anyway possible (u kno..like how the overarching structures of both heaven and hell were kinda fucked in spn? No spoilers but similar shit be happenin in Alice Isn’t Dead). Exploration of what makes someone into a monster, like how do you go down that path? Also this is the only show on this whole damn list that southern gothic music really suits it so points for that.

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The Magnus Archives

You know I had to do it to ‘em.

Basic Summary: Jonathan Sims has just become the Head Archivist at the Magnus Institute, a “research” “facility” that looks into paranormal/esoteric/unexplained phenomena.

John Mulaney Voice, Again: Nobody knows what the archivist is going to do next, least of all the archivist. He’s never been in an archives before, he’s just as confused as you are.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Oh fuck this document is over 5k long I said I wasn’t gonna do this hhhhh so lipton lightning round: Slowburn Gay Romance but Actually Canon, Monster Hunting but Hey What Even Is A Monster Anyway, Acts Somewhat like a Loosely Connected Horror Anthology until it DOESNT, Little Things Build to Bigger Narrative, Characters Be Goin Through It (On God These People Need Therapy), Trying to Prevent/Fix The Apocalypse (X2!!!), Smug Asshole Big Bad,  Horror as a Metaphor For Various Shit, Basically if you thought that the Men of Letter concept slapped and you think it should’ve been the whole damn show including being Deeply British you would probably really fuckin like TMA. Also if ur like the ideal piece of media is a horror tragedy but also like it’s a wacky sitcom but also also fuck cops. U will like tma.

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Welcome to Nightvale

IF ANY 2012 TUMBLR FANDOM DESERVES TO MAKE A MASSIVE COMEBACK AND BE EVERYWHERE AGAIN AND ABSOLUTELY FLOOD MY DASH IT’S WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE WHY DID WE ABANDON THE SHOW THAT TREATED US THE MOST KINDLY DID YOU KNOW THAT EPISODES 108-110 ARE THE BEST FUCKING BUILT UP NARRATIVE REVEAL THAT I HAVE WITNESSED IN MY LIFE DID YOU KNOW THAT IT CONTINUED TO BE REALLY FUCKING GOOD AFTER MOST PEOPLE STOPPED LISTENING DID YOU KNOW CECIL AND CARLOS ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A DOG AND A TODDLER NOW BECAUSE OF ALL THE GAY PODCAST PROTAGONISTS CECIL GERSHWIN PALMER LOVE OF MY LIFE ELDRITCHIAN CHEERLEADER AND CERTIFIED BIMBO KEEPS FUCKIN WINNIN BABY. DID YOU KNOW THAT CECIL THINKS PEANUT BUTTER IS A ROCK.

Basic Summary: Welcome to the sleepy desert town of Ņ̶̏ight V̶͚̰̮͗̔̊̊ale! Community radio how host Cé̵̟͚͕̗̞̙͂͑̽̄́c̵̤̼̞͈̪͓̍̽̋̚̕͜il Pǎ̵̧̨̢͚̻̈̂̄̇͐̇̊̀̆ͅl̶͚͎͕͉͖̬͓͑́̐̒̍̿̈́͢͜͝ͅm̸̧͙̟̖̠̳̬͋́͋́͌̚̚ͅȩ̙̖͎̖͂́̒͐͜͞r̢̢̛̰̻̮̺̩͙̼̈́͋̀͘ is here to k̠̠̰̦͙̯̥̎̄̆͌̎̀̿̔̌̚ê̷̢̬̥̞̩̯̘͒̽̈̓͐̂̔̍e̶̡̝̗̺̫̪̜͆̓̿̈͌͌̆͒͞ͅp̵̹̗̬̼̠̬͙̏͐͐̉̅͊͊́͟͞ͅͅ ỷ̛͙̞̦̦͖̑̉̌̎͞͡͡͝ͅo̧̧̥͎̻̥̲͇͋́́̔̈͌͞ǔ̸̬̯̫͇̦̮͕̤̲̯̽̔̀̔͆͋̈́͘̚ up to date all the local happenings, including w̸̢̢̢̧̡̡͍͖̻̳̹̼̼̰̬̭̱͔̲͙͍̰̠̥̺̝͖̺̖̼̮̼̞̳̞̜͉̤̯͇̖̳͖̠̙̺̲̤͇͈͚͓̮̭̱̭̩͚̟̥̬̟̻̝̼̖͚̘͐̆̅̂̃̈́͆͊̉̏͒́̈́̋͗͑̄̉́̐̌́̿̌͛̾̎̊̾̃̈́̉̔̍̐͛̕͘̚͜͜͠͠é̵̢̡̧̨̨̡̧̨̡̛̹̥̥̞̮̯͙͈̻̝͓͖͙̦̰͍̖̜̲̰̞͎͈̭̯̳͕̗͓͈̭̫̼̯̪̞̯̰̲̘̭͎̪̱̗̝̝̞̤̱͉͙̯͎̬͎̙̜̗͉̩̦͕̪̳͇͙̺̙̰̠͚͎̜̠͔̬͎̺̣͕̜̊̓̃̐̂́͂̎̐̾̔̽̀̉́̍̊̂̿̎͂͐̎̐̄̍̔̋̐̃͗̈́͂̀̒̊̎͘͘̕̚̕͜͝͝͝͠ͅͅa̸̡̧̡̡̨̡̨̛̛͙̣̘̳͎͖̥̝̟̱̩̥͙͉̝̲̙̮̩̩̹̱͔͎̥̹̻̜͚̭̬̳͚̤̙̖̯͎̱̫̞̪̻͖̱̞͔̭̻̺͚͚̯̬͓͓̳͇̳̦͓̞͈̮̤̭̣͉̲̞͚̘͗̆̃͌̅̍͊̓̈̇̌̒͊͑̊̏̊͌̈̓̿͗̒̏̒͊͒̏̃̎̒̀̅̾̍̀͘͘͜͝͠ͅt̵̢̡̨̧̧̛̛̛̯̤͓̘̻̤͓̪̰͔̪̝̫͎̻͔͈͎͔͙͕͈̰͓͍̀̏͒̆͋̈́̈́͂̔͋͆͂̅͗̍̆̍̆̔̑͊̏̈͒́̽͊́̿͂́̓͛̽͐͌̌̐̈̇̃̓̆̍̅̃̔̚̕͜͝͝͝ͅͅh̸̨̨̡̢̢̡̢̧̡̧̢̡̨̡̭̜̬̬̙͕̗̙̻̯̠̘͙̻̥͉͚̼̗͚͇͉̰͍̥͉̗͎̬̫͖͉͔̼̮̯̞̫̬̟̻͉̖̙̥̫͖̬͚̟̜̭͇͎̭̘̝̲̤͕͎̰̭̗̯̮̤̙̙̯͍̞̭͚͔͎̞̹̲̟͉̩̭̖̱̠͍̺͈̟̩̋̆̈́͆̍̆̄̏͜ͅͅȇ̸̢̢̨̨̧̛̜͍̺͎̬̪͙̻̝̣͓͈̺̩̳̟̲̠̣͈͎͎͈͉̙̪͖̳̺͇̹̊̍͊͑̿͊̌͛̿̓͊̾̀͂͛̉͆̾̽͆̈̏͛̊͛̍̈́̇͋̔͂̑͐̂̿͊̽͑͘̚͘͝͝͠͝ͅͅŕ̵̨̡̨̨̢̧̡̧̨̘̟͙̦̲̲̪̦̙̼̠̳͚̞̦̞͖͚͇̳͖̲̭͕̜̫̳̖̙͖͉͎̘̘̤̠͈̬͕̝̻͚̥͍͕̠̥͙̙̪̖̯͍̘̘̲̣̹̜̪̲̭̟̮̫̖̤̰͔̩̩͉̲͚̟̝̦̬̪̘̬̮̱͔̻̦̼̃̐̂͋̐̅̋͒̉͛́̅̈́̒̒͆̑̆͊̒͒̀̍̈́̍͌̍̏̔͋͌̒̍̌͛̓̈̂̐̕͘͘͜͜͝͝͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̡̨̛̠͇̹̯͕͍̻̟̼̼̗̩̱̗̙̱̥̜̬̫̜͎͉̺̣͓̟̯̱͖̣̞̠̝̥͍̲̳̙̠͔̹̘̲̲̻̖̈́̊͋͜͜ą̵̡̧̟͕̬̳̜͈͈̳̝̜̣̬͔͈͈͎͉͍̯̟̞̺͎̝͇̰̥͖̬̯͙̤̬̼̲̦̯̭͓̠̺̳̱̰̮̎͋͆̈́͌͆̎̉̓̇̐͋͋́̃̉̈̄̏̓̉̿̅̒̉̒̉͂͛̄̀̇̒͊͛́͊̎́͆̌̆́̌͂̈́̽̋͛͗̑̊̀́̍͊̌͆͊͐͆̅̒̊̉̾̄͛̑̕͘͘͘͘͝͝͝͝͠͠͝n̸̡̛̛̛̛̛̙͎̬̦̠̼͓͈̝̾̍͑͛̅̒̾́̌̍͛̇̋̇̓̏͛̔͛̈́͆̿̌͐̿͊̿́͒̍̃̀̈͐̐̆͐̉̒̂̉̀̅̇̾͋̍͒̋̈̌̿͒͐̍́͗̀̌̌̚̕̕̕͘̚͘͘̚͜͠͝͝͝d̴̡̢̢̛̛̛̺̠̳̬͎̞̲̣̲̱̳̪̹͉̝̠̱̗̙̫̠̹̼̙̝͉̲̟̮̙̙̮̻̹͈̦̙̞͚̜̙̖̞͓̙̭͉̃̽̌̅̔̾̈́̒̽͑́̒͋̓̈́͆͋̽̒̃̽̋̐͌͂̍͑́̽̋̍͗̋͗͂̅̽̈̈̾͐̄̃̕̕͜͠͠͝͠͝ͅͅ ̵̡̡̢̛̛̗͚͍̺͇̲̳̯͓̰͍̙̮̙̜̟̞̣̼͕̝͔͙̺̫͈͈̠̻̘̱͍̦̭͔͈̤̺̗̮͕̦̞̘͍̯̻̝͓̤̳̫͔̩͉̬̈́͋̈́̐͒́̔́́̿̓̆͐̎͆̇͒̄̈̿̓̑̾̏̔̿͊̌͆͒̒͊̓̅̓́̔̅̀̀̀̃̿̂̑͂͆̅̎̾̏̓̂̈́͛͌̇̾͌͐̈̂̆͐̅̓̍̓̃̆͗̃͛̏̒̌̀̅͊́̽̐̆̿́̌͘͘̚̕͘̕̕͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͠t̷̢̥͓̄͗̾̄̅̚͜r̵̨̡̨̧̧̢̛̛̛̛̛͍͙͚̥̱̞̜̦̜̼̺͉̠̬͎̰̻̜̼̫̤͓͖͖̤͇̞̥̖̈́͊̆̓͊̑̑̋̒̈́̔̆͆́̐͛͑͊͋̇̈́̓̑̍̏͐͛̽̋̎͑̃̈́͒̇̂̇̌͂̀̍̊̇̓̋̈́̌̏̕͘̚̕̚͝͝͠ǎ̴̡͓͓̯̘̥̱̱͖̦̺͓̘͉͖̞̟̦͈̜̥̰̘̞͈̦̠̼̯̙̭̼͚̟̖̲̠̝̜̐̅͆̏̈́̍́͂̃̾͑̓͋̽̄̾́̾̆̾͒͋̎͂̈́͘̕̕̚͜ͅͅf̷̢̡̡̧̢̨̡̧̢̢̧̡̧̫͖̖͇̲̫̮͕͉͓̩̪̳̹̩͎̖̟̤̤̲̟̪̫̻̻̖̟̦͉̼͎͖̭͍͖͎̖̳̳͙̜͉̝̘̺̖͚̙͉͕͙̯͖̞͚̮̲̻͉͙̺̭͓͎̤͙̦̦̺̯͕̜̰͍̳̙̦͉̪̥́͋̓̅̀͋͐̀̄̊̆̉̒̐͒̀̏̈̇̊̉̆̐̏̾̀̀̓͛͆̍̾͗͌̀̄̔͒̀̍̈́͆̔̒̑̏̍̏͆́̾̐̂͋̂̔̂́̓̓̌͌̉͛́̒̐̽̏́̑͊́̌̆̂̑͋̇̈́͌̑̿̅͗̚̕͘̕̚͜͠͝͝͠͠f̴̨̨̛̹͌̂̓͌͛̀͑̾̓̍͗̽͆̉̊͗̇́̍͌̊͐̔̈́̊̇͆̄̃̑̕̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͠i̴̧̡̢̢̧̢̨̨̧̧̧̛̛͎̗̳̦̘̙͓̦̙͔̜̼̘͇͇̺̭͉̠̩̟̤̥̘͙̤̩͔̪̱̻͈̪̼̼̞̠͎̟̹͕̻̭̤̪̲͕̟̺̻̻͖͕͚̣͇̖̰̝̩͈̤͕͇͕̝͙̙̪͔̗̫͇͎̙̲̲͖̗̘͉̲̣̤͎̔̐̆͒̄̈́̀̎̃̃̅͆̌̈́̽̈́̅̈́̑̄̇͒͐̀̐̀̒̍̀̓͌͗̓̽́͗̓̎͂͛̅̑̔̀͛̈́̽̾̃̊͊͆̄̍͑̍̆̌̾͗̄̊̽̉̅̆̀̎̀͑̿̎̋̄̆̃͐̾̏͛͒̍̋̅͘̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅc̷̛̛͚̝̻̣̞̓́̃́̀̃̓͗͌̂͛́̒̊͑̓͆̇̈́͑̏̆̀͌̑͂͂̄͌̉̔̋́̎͒̿͗͒͛̇͛̿̎̍̕̕̕͝͝͝͝͝ ̴̢̧̢̡̨̢̡̨̡̢̢̛̺̘̹̯̤̩̘̯͔̞̟̬̠̣̟̻̥̜̤͔̥͕̠̥̞͎̗̩̱̮͉͔͎̲̯̱̙̜̥̳̮͔̦̣͖͔̜͉̗̪̳̹̦̤͇̣̙͕̯̫̖̝̼̹͍̠͎͓̗͎̦͓̲̯̱̠̰͇̮̹͔̝͉͙̹̜̹͈̹̥͖̣̳̲͖̓́͌̈́̈́̀͌̄͂̌̾́̍̔̊̓̿͋͂͋̈́̋́́̒̓̀̒̃͂̀͑̐͛̆̆͒̈́̅̿͊͌̍͗̌̌͆̂͌́̉̏̒̓͊̾̒̓̋̽͐̏̾͘̕͜͝͠͝ͅͅr̸̨̢̛̪̞̬͓͔̥̤̣͔̭̥̙͉̦̗̠̳̩͙̂̈́͑͑̿̋̓̀͋͆̋̕͝͝ë̴̢̡̨̬͈͉̖̞͔͎͓͖̼̘̬͕̰͈̥͈̝̩͎͉͉̫̜͚͕̤͔̟̯͓͎̟͙̜̭̩̗̮͎̗̤͇̝̩͎̜̺̯͕͇̝͎̯͙̖͙̮̗̮̘́̑͑͛̂̅̄̌̽̓̒̾̿͆̏̏͐͛̾̂̃͑͆̅̄̿͋̅͂̈́̽͋͒̎͐̒̓͆̌̉͑͊́̀̈̾͛̋͑̋̎̈̀̽̀͊̏͘͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅp̴̧̧̡̢̢̢̛̛̛͚̟͓̖̭̪̻̪̲̬̥̙̥̰̼̹͎͕̪̞̮̺̰̬̘̫̤͉̦͙̮̖̙̹̻͔̖̮̲̞̣̻̜̠͇̬͚̱̦̼̲̮̀̂͌̍̈̒̍̋̌̏͐̓͛̉̂̈̀͑̈́͊͗͋͗́̂̎̎̃͆͒̅̑̇́̈͐̾̀̔̒̉͑͒̅̓̈́̋͋̀̍̄̿̌̀̉͆̇̔̈́͗̋̄̓̇͗̎̉̆͊̒͗̚̕͘͘̕̕̚͜͜͝͝͠͠͠͠͠ͅͅͅơ̶̢̡̧̨̡̛̛͔̦̼̰̠̯̰̟̲̣̜͙̲͙̪̱̱͕̺̪͈͉̺̻̙̥̲̩̲̩͔̠͚̩͓̞̠̯̟̫̣̗̦̰͉͚͙̺͎̼͖̥̙͈̯̲̝̞͎̻͕̮͔̰̖͔̭͙̩̼͔̫̹̘͓͔̜̘͍̍̅̄͋͑̋̍̊̉̄̈̽̈͐̀͌͐̆͊͂̐̋̃̎͆͛̐̀̂̿̈́͂́̈̌͐̇̀̒͋͑͐́͌̐̇̊͆̀͂͋̏́͋͆̏͗͂͑̂̓̽͘͘̚̕̕̕̕̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ͅͅͅr̴̨̨̨̧̨̛̘͕͈͔͙̠̬̯̩̗̰̗̬̦͈̗̝̣͓͓̟͕͙͈̠̘̻͓̭̝̘̦̦͓̭̘͙̻̙̼̩̰̝͈̱̝̱̬͉͙̣̖̮̲͈̙̱̩̣͕̦̰̮͔͈͓̙̮͍̳̟̠̞͎̱̣̰͕̩̝̲̝͐́́̍̈͐͋̐̑̌͋̓̈́̈͗̿̈̈́͗̑̚͜͜͜͜͜͝ͅͅţ̴̢̨̧͇͉͎̣̬̣̝̗̬̹͇̮̞̈́̐̌̇̈́̌͊̐̅̂̌̂͒͌́̈͌̂̊͗̍̿͑͋̎̓͂̀̎̎͒̾̏̒͌̃̄͋̌̾̍̈́̐̏͑̊̍͑͆̉̓́̆̌̾̓͊̊̈̑͘̚̕͘͘̕͝͝͝͝͝s̴̢̢̡̛̬̹͚̻͉̦̦̣̦̠̜͕̤̳͓͙̟̬͕̘̦̿͗̉̏̒͆̓̄͊͌͛͂͑̒̃͛͘͜͝͝!

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Honestly, probably bc Nightvale and Alice are by the Same Dudes, a lot of these points are the same as Alice Isn’t Dead, but it’s less scawy and more funney. Also hits the “horror, but make it kind of a sitcom” vibes. Doesn’t have the same road trip vibes, but DOES capture the exact weirdness of South Western USA, so I’m still giving it “fucked up americana” credit. If you’ve never been to New Mexico ur like this is an exaggeration clearly no desert town is subject to like ACTUAL cosmic horror and unexplainable sights but I’m telling you New Mexico is just Like That. (I highly recommend visiting the land of enchantment if you ever get the oppurtunity it is a deeply odd and wonderfully unsettling experience.) Look man it’s gay it’s a horror comedy cecil has a wonderfully soothing voice and it hates capitalism so fucking much like oh my god so much what more could you want.

MINI REC ALERT: Wolf 359! I have nothing deep to say about this I just like it and my gut tells me that y’all would enjoy it too I know there isnt much for physical descriptions in the show but I know in my heart that the main character is so so pretty and so so stupid. I KNOW yall like some himbos that experience character growth.

Okay since It’s my party and I’ll speak if I want to rapid fire list of podcasts I just like and want more people to listen to even though I’m behind on like all of them shhhhh: The Penumbra Podcast, BomBARDed, Dungeons and Daddies, Stellar Firma, Wonderful!

SONG RECS

okay these aren’t like replacement recs or anything they’re just really good and I almost certainly would have put them on some sort of supernatural playlist in 2013 but I don’t, like, have a good playlist for them now so I’m subjecting y’all to them also they all have the youtube link for ease of access

Woah There Kimmy-  Felix Hagan & the Family

Devil’s Backbone- The Civil Wars

Blood On My Name- The Brothers Bright

Awake O Sleeper- The Brothers Bright

The Bottom of the River- Delta Rae

Old Number 7- The Devil Makes Three

The Bullet- The Devil Makes Three

In Hell I’ll Be In Good Company- The Dead South

Bartholomew- The Silent Comedy

Pomegranate Seeds- Julian Moon

Curses- The Crane Wives

Tongues & Teeth -The Crane Wives

OKAY THAT’S IT! THAT’S ALL FOLKS! FUCK!

[lassieposting]

What do you think it says that in S1 Lucifer didn’t really have an emotional reaction to Amenadiel wanting/trying to kill him? Manipulating, yes. But not killing? Seems like killing would be the worse of the two, overall.

OK SO

it depends on when in s1 you mean, because his reaction evolves over the season. so let’s start with very, very early on in s1 lucifer. 

this is a man who’s spent the vast majority of his life in hell, in a culture built on violence and power plays. this is a man who’s been on earth for five years and only really formed surface relationships with the people around him - he clearly cares about delilah in his stilted, emotionally backwards way, but they aren’t close the way that he’s close with linda and ella and even dan, and it’s implied he hasn’t really seen her since she stopped working for him. 

this lucifer is deeply traumatised, terrified of rejection, burying himself in sex and drugs to try and cope, and has an entire lifetime of being told how awful and worthless he is keeping him from really connecting with anyone. 

(my personal headcanon is that baby demons will actually attack and kill their weaker siblings in the nest, eliminating the competition for food, so actually, fratricide would not be as unthinkable to lucifer as it is to us. more kind of...vaguely distasteful.)

pretty much every relationship in hell is skewed towards the dark and aggressive. look at maze, lucifer’s oldest and closest friend - their fights are vicious, they don’t communicate well at all, they resolve conflicts mostly by beating the shit out of each other...my point is that this lucifer not only expects the people around him to hurt him, he accepts it as normal. 

(it’s also worth noting that amenadiel’s hatred for lucifer is obvious whenever they interact - he’s treating luci the way he does deliberately, because at this point he sees lucifer as The Reason Everything Went Wrong. lucifer, on the other hand, swings between deadly serious ( “don’t threaten me, amenadiel. you don’t want to start a war.” ) and being almost playful ( “and you, my friend, can go to hell.” 

sometimes it’s a genuinely hate-filled exchange. sometimes lucifer is just being an annoying little shit of a baby brother, hell-style. which, to amenadiel, comes across as open hostility, and deepens the dislike between them.)

it’s important to understand, i think, that lucifer at this point is? basically shut down. he’s closed off all the parts of him that are gentle and loving and good, because those parts of him will either get him killed or pull him apart in hell. he’s running survival.exe, and everything else is closed. he doesn’t trust anyone, keeps his friends close and his enemies closer, and believes everyone is out to get him because for most of his life they were. it’s been five years since he left hell, but he hasn’t moved on from the trauma at all. he’s stagnant.

so at this point in his life? he sees his relationship with amenadiel as normal sibling behaviour. so yeah, no reaction to amenadiel trying to kill him. just sort of, sigh, brothers, amiright? he can’t afford to care, can’t afford not to expect that from amenadiel anyway. he doesn’t know how to stop living in the past. 

and then he meets linda. 

and suddenly we have a lucifer who is starting to get to grips with his own emotions, starting to get some much-needed perspective on what is and isn’t normal. i don’t think he actually realised just how abusive his family - not just dad, but his siblings too - were until he let linda in. 

he bonds with chloe, and for the first time he’s got someone in his life who chooses to support him, who doesn’t take his shit but doesn’t go for his throat either, and now he’s starting to learn the give-and-take nature of a normal, healthy relationship. he watches her with trixie, with dan, and starts to understand what family ought to look like. he’s soaking shit up like a sponge at this point and he’s realising that his family isn’t normal. 

he puts his fist through linda’s wall, the only way he knows how to express how angry and hurt he is by what she’s saying to him, and she keeps seeing him anyway, and he starts to realise that he’s never had that kind of support from his own family, and he should have, and it hurts.

and we start to see him react to amenadiel differently. he goes to amenadiel to ask for help retrieving his wings. that’s the first time we’ve seen lucifer treat amenadiel like a big brother. and amenadiel flings it back in his face ( “clean up your own mess, for once.” ). lucifer wants the sort of relationship he knows he should have with his brother - the human idea of a good sibling relationship - but amenadiel has also been his primary abuser for eons. the trust isn’t there, they don’t know how to care about each other, they’re both dealing with trauma and grief over lucifer’s fall, there’s so much going on there. 

(and amenadiel is beginning to change too, though much slower than lucifer. they banter a little in this episode. he’s very much the exasperated older brother at a few points, but without the loathing from episode 1. linda is already affecting him, too, in very subtle ways; she’s showing him it’s possible to care about lucifer.)

and by the time we have malcolm telling luci that amenadiel sent him to shoot him, he definitely has an emotional reaction ( “so my holier-than-thou brother sent someone to kill me! well, this really is opposite day.” ). 

by now, we have a lucifer with a support system. we have a lucifer who’s been sat on linda’s couch for months(?) having his pain and his fears and his trauma validated, and learning how to deal with the fallout. we have a lucifer who knows what family should look like, who knows his brother is treating him badly, and that it’s not normal, and that it’s not okay. and he’s hurt. he’s frustrated. he’s angry. 

(he’s also putting on a front, because he thinks he’s mortal and someone is pointing a gun at him. and when lucifer is threatened, he makes himself as big and intimidating as possible and bluffs. he doesn’t have time to really sort through his feelings about amenadiel, because he’s focusing on trying to scare malcolm off with his devil face)

i think this - the end of s1 - is really where their relationship began the long slow process of healing. lucifer wants to get in a fight with his brother against campolongo’s men. amenadiel takes the olive branch and there’s even a semi-affectionate moment when it’s all over ( “and to think we spent all those millennia fighting each other.” ). lucifer stops chasing malcolm to try and save amenadiel’s life. amenadiel realises he’s responsible for his own actions and tries to right his wrongs. and lucifer admits fear in front of his brother and shares the burden of their mom having escaped. 

(and can i just scream for a second about how good lucifer is? he’s been rejected and reviled and treated so badly so many times and yet he still keeps reaching out, keeps trying to help his brother, and it hurts my heart so much)

(also i love the progression of this relationship so much, how you can see the tiny little steps they’re taking towards a human-standards Good Relationship. amenadiel's realization that he’s been a terrible big brother and his awkward attempts at being a better one, offering lucifer advice and reassurance. lucifer - trust issues personified - in turn tentatively starting to ask for amenadiel’s input and beginning to trust him more ( “am i boyfriend material?” )

the backslide when amenadiel tells lucifer he loves and supports him and lucifer panics and lashes out hard, because receiving unconditional love from a family member is so alien that the alarms in his head, honed in hell, are screaming wrong wrong wrong wrong and amenadiel’s sad but accepting reiteration that he understands what lucifer is doing and loves him anyway. these two??? kill me)

SO ANYWAY TL;DR: he didn’t react because he was shut down and his Normal Meter was 50 shades of broken. also i have a lot of feelings about amenadiel and lucifer and i love them so much so this got kinda off track sorry

[lloydskywalkers]

skywalker syndrome, pt. II

*sweats nervously* this is...so long. This is so, so long and it’s not even the last part, but i just have a loT OF FEELINGS about it okay T-T 

Anyways! here is the continuation of my extensively angsty, s9-Lloyd-loses-an-arm-AU that i posted about a year ago, now featuring four whole over-concerned siblings who are finally back in the same realm. 

The funny thing about life as a ninja extraordinaire, is that there are certain things that you can totally suppress, and never deal with ever. Like, they might still be there, lurking in the dark corners of your mind like vaguely threatening mold or something, and sure, one of these days they could blossom into actual issues, and then threaten to destabilize whatever’s left of your emotional stability, but you can at least ignore them for a while. And if you’re Lloyd —which he is — you can get really good at ignoring them, to the point where you almost forget they’re there half the time. Bam, problems solved.

But as it turns out, unfortunately, there are also some things that you just can’t.

One of those, even more unfortunately, happens to be losing, say, an entire limb. And to top off the entire stack of unfortunateness — the unfortunatetest — most unfortunate? — part about the whole thing: Lloyd currently happens to fall into the second category.

(Will always fall into the second category, he doesn’t know why he’s saying currently, it’s not like his arm is gonna grow back—)

Anyways. Lloyd has finally met an issue that he can’t ignore, and that’s…another issue, he guesses. Oh, he’s tried, but walking off a lost arm is just a lot more difficult than ignoring trauma, or a broken rib or something.

“But I mean, it also could have been a leg, and then I’d have real trouble walking it off, haha, get it?”

“There are so many concerning things in that essay’s worth of words you just threw at me, I don’t even know where to start,” Nya sighs.

“Aw, c’mon,” Lloyd nudges her shoulder with his fist from where he sits in the battle wagon next to her, metal fingers clanking oddly against her shoulder armor. “That wasn’t even my worst pun.”

“That’s not what I’m referring to, and you know it,” Nya side-eyes him. Then, after a beat— “And that one was low-hanging fruit. I know you can do better.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come up with something better when we’re not running on zero hours of sleep,” Lloyd yawns, propping his elbows up on the dashboard and leaning against them, scrubbing at his eyes. He flinches back at the cold of his metal hand, and scowls at it instead, as if its inability to create heat like a normal limb is a personal insult. He lets it fall limp against the dashboard with a dull clank, laying his normal, warm human arm on top, and using that as a pillow.

He then squeezes his eyes shut, enjoying the brief relief from the thundering headache he’s had the last few days, before screwing them back open. Nya is staring at him fully now, face pinched in concern. Lloyd thinks that’s rather unfair, because her eyes are every bit as bloodshot as his, and he’s definitely caught her wincing from a headache of her own like, six times today already.

“Lloyd.”

“What.”

Nya sighs again — she’s been doing that a lot lately — and finally takes her hands off the wheel, leaning back in her seat, pulling her leg up and wrapping her arm around her knee. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what?” Lloyd says petulantly, knowing full well what she’s talking about.

Nya knows too, because she gives him a look. “Ignore that kind of stuff,” she says, waving a hand absently in the air. “Trauma, and whatnot.”

“I’m not ignoring my trauma,” Lloyd rolls his eyes, because they’ve had this conversation a minimum of sixty times now, so he’s ready for it. “I’m just waiting until I have a thing of ice cream big enough to cry it all out over.”

He’s probably going to need an entire ice cream parlor at this point, he muses—

“I’m serious, Lloyd.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, burying his face in his arms. “Sure. You wanna talk about Nadakhan while we’re at it, then?”

Nya sucks in a breath, and Lloyd feels a hot flash of guilt for having brought it up.

But like — it’s true. If he’s gotta sort out his issues, then Nya needs to, as well. Fair’s fair, and she needs someone looking out for her. Even if Lloyd’s been doing a pretty terrible job of it lately.

“Sorry,” he murmurs anyways.

Nya presses her lips together, then shakes her head. Her eyes are far away, staring out across the ruined city through the windshield. “No,” she says, her voice a whisper. “No, you’re right. I — you’re right.”

“Well, I’m sorry for that, too.”

Because he wishes he wasn’t right. He’d love to be wrong, about this. He’d love it if they were all just fine, and the guys were back and cracking jokes with them, and Nya had never died after being nearly forced into some twisted marriage, and the city wasn’t crumbling down around them because his sort-of-ex brought back his dead dad, and Lloyd still had both whole arms, and they were all drinking like, strawberry lemonade on the beach right now or something.

“We’re a real mess, huh,” Nya says, and there’s a sniffled edge in her voice that Lloyd doesn’t like.

Lloyd bites his lip, then reaches out, uncurling her fingers from where they’ve gone white around the steering wheel, and squeezing her hand lightly instead. “Kai would say we’re hot messes, though.”

Nya snorts, squeezing his hand back, ad Lloyd feels a bubble of warmth at her smile. They sit there in silence for a bit, watching the smokey clouds drift past above, waiting on Pixal or Skylor to finally call in on the radio, and tell them they can move out already.

Lloyd’s just considering trying for another nap, when Nya speaks up again.

“Really through. Lloyd, we gotta talk it all out eventually. You don’t wanna end up all emotionally suppressed, like your uncle, do you?”

Lloyd sputters, then glares at her. “You take that back. I’m not gonna end up like Uncle Wu.”

“Oh yeah? Just wait, any day now you’re gonna walk in on us, with a big straw hat on, and say ‘terribly sorry, my loyal ninja, but there’s something I haven’t told you’—“

Lloyd throws his mask at her, even as he breaks into snickers at the deep-toned voice she’s using. “I am not!”

“—you’ll have a beard, too,” Nya continues, grinning. “Like, ten feet long—“

“Ten, please, have you seen my hair? I bet I can do twenty—“

“Oh yeah, Rapunzel? What’cha gonna do then, trip over it into your enemies?”

“No, I’m — I’m gonna strangle them with it.”

That mental image is the final straw for Nya, and she doubles over in loud cackling, stuffing her fist against her mouth to try and silence her laughter. Lloyd’s already dissolved into giggles, but his attempt to keep them quiet sounds a whole lot more like rheumatic wheezing, which only makes them laugh harder.

“Please,” Nya breathes, when they’ve finally wound down. “Never grow a beard.”

“I dunno,” Lloyd says, stroking his chin, in what he hopes looks like an accurate impression of Uncle Wu. “I think I got the face for it—”

“You don’t.”

“Ouch, right in the heart.”

“It’s for your own good, bud.”

“We’ll see what Kai says.”

“He’s gonna agree with me, and you know it.”

“Hmph.”

“…and Lloyd?”

“Hm?”

“ ‘Unfortunatetest’ isn’t a word.”

“You aren’t a word.”

The other funny thing about life, though, is that no matter how miserable it gets, it’s always bearable with Nya.

************************

Which is probably why Lloyd doesn’t really start to crack until Nya goes down.

“Oh no — oh no, Nya, you’re okay, you’re fine, you’re all good, just — you’re okay—”

“I’m fine, stop telling me what I already know,” Nya gets out, through gritted teeth against the pain. She couldn’t be more clearly not fine, but between the two of them, they seem to believe that if they can say it’s fine enough, it’ll all work out. It’ll be just fine. Nya just had a car fall on her and probably shattered her arm but it’s — it’s fine, she hasn’t lost it yet, and if it comes down to it, she can have his other arm, because Nya is not losing a limb today.

Between him and Dareth, they finally manage to get the car — the entire car, Lloyd is losing the battle to panic by the second — off Nya, and Lloyd’s right back at her side to worry more. Nya shrugs him off, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain as she struggles to rise, wobbling in place.  

But she still pushes herself up, on her feet, and picks up her spear with her good arm, and Lloyd decides for like, the tenth time this week, that Nya is the strongest person he knows. Right up there with Skylor, who’s actually insane, as it turns out, holding off an entire Colossi with his father’s stolen power — Skylor’s incredible.

But Skylor’s also currently unconscious in the battle wagon, and now Nya’s in severe pain and down an arm, and she doesn’t have a handy — aha —replacement like Lloyd does. And Pixal’s in Kryptarium so all that’s left of the ninja is Lloyd, and Dareth looking to him for answers, and Lloyd should be used to this, he’s leader, he could practically write the book on being in desperate, all-consuming-panic situations like this, but—

Harumi’s dead. Lloyd’s powers are gone, and people are dying now. Because of his dad, because of this stupid vengeance spree, because of him.

Lloyd’s eyes smart painfully, and he tightens his grip on Nya’s good arm, wondering, not for the first time, how in the world it had all come to this.

“We need to — we need to—” Nya cuts off, biting the inside of her cheek. Her composure falters, and Lloyd can see the same hopeless sort of exhaustion in her eyes, the weeks of running on fumes taking their toll. They need to get moving, they need to regroup, but there’s no one to regroup with. It’s just them, Lloyd and Nya, and they might be able to function independently better than anyone else but they’re also chronic younger siblings. The reminder that they’re not supposed to be alone is driven so deeply into their heads that it’s not even annoying anymore.

Not when they’re so very, very alone now.

“We can fall back,” Lloyd suggests, his voice wavering. “We can—” He swallows. Hide feels cowardly, but even he knows it’d be useless to suggest, anyways. They’ve run out of hiding places from Garmadon. He’d find them, Lloyd knows he will. His father is a lot of things right now, and relentless is one of the stronger ones.

“We can move, at least,” Dareth says, panic tinging his voice. “Those Sons of Garmadon will be on us any minute.”

It’s not Dareth’s fault, but it certainly feels a lot like karma as, at that very second, the sound of motorcycles echoes down the street, mixed with the familiar cries of the Sons of Garmadon.

They all go tense. Nya and Lloyd look at each other, and Lloyd wonders if the expression of fear on her face is mirrored on his, or if he looks closer to terror.

Either way, he’s frozen in place, and that’s bad, because they’re all frozen now. Maybe this is it. Maybe they’ve finally run out of the will to keep going. Maybe this is for the better. At least it’s not his father.

But then he remembers that they’ll probably take him to his father anyways, and if Lloyd didn’t have terror on his face before, he does now.

The loud roars of the motorcycles are circling now, and if Lloyd’s right, they’ve got barely a minute left before they’re surrounded. That’s not enough time to make it out. Not with everyone, not with the condition they’re in.

And Lloyd’s not about to leave anyone behind.

Nya sucks in a shaky breath, her face white from pain as her bad arm shifts. “Lloyd, do you — do you have any ideas?”

Lloyd stares up at the smoke rising above the city, his city, and the skin that meets his prosthetic throbs. His head does too, exhaustion mixed with pain mixed with dying adrenaline leaving him sick.

You’ve failed, Green Ninja. Your father won this round.

Like he does every round, Lloyd thinks bitterly. Morro had it right, back in Styx. He doesn’t deserve to be the Green Ninja. Not when he can’t win the fights that matter.

But he’s still Lloyd. He’s still Nya’s little brother, and even Garmadon can’t take that from him if he tried. So he shakes his head, croaking out, “Sorry, I’m stumped.”

It takes Nya a minute longer than usual, her eyes confused in her pale and dirt-stained face, but then—

She slumps against him, wheezing out what could be a laugh. “If that was an another arm pun, I swear—”

Lloyd tries to keep his face passively blank, but he can’t help the breathless huff of laughter that escapes. It very quickly threatens to turn into hyperventilating, so he cuts it off quickly. They all step closer to each other, forming a tight circle as the motorcycles roar into view, and Lloyd’s knuckles turn white with the fist he’s making.

He almost says I’m sorry, because it feels like what he should say right now, him and his whole sorry bloodline and everything that’s led to this. But Nya would probably hit him if he did that, and get that sad look on her face, so he doesn’t.

“This would be a really good time for the guys to get back,” Lloyd finally says instead, a bit hollowly. Nya gives him a weak smile that threatens to crack into despair as they’re surrounded, the blinding headlights from the Sons of Garmadon pinning them in place.

But maybe, just maybe, karma is on their side after all. Because, not half a second after Lloyd’s said those words, the sky opens up and roaring out from the bright portal, filthy and battered but alive, come the super late — like so late, for real, Lloyd’s gonna give them heck for this — rest of their family.

Lloyd doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see his big brother’s ridiculous, spiky head of hair in his whole entire life.

************************

In the euphoria of reuniting with the guys and his uncle, Lloyd kind of forgets that he’s lost an arm for a second. He also forgets that the last time the guys saw him, he might have been a half-dead mess on Mystaké’s kitchen table, but he also had both arms. So it’s probably not — not the best of welcome back surprises he could’ve offered.

But the thing is, Lloyd’s at least been thinking his arm looked fine now. Like, it’s obviously not his arm arm anymore, but it’s a whole lot better than the ugly empty space that was there. And Nya put the dragon on and everything, so he can look sick when he either defeats his father or dies horribly.

But for all that it looks fine, the guys’ faces still go ten shades of white when they finally catch sight of it.

Lloyd thinks that’s rather unfair, considering they just burst out of the sky on a bunch of dragons after having been presumed dead, but he’s not gonna pick now to argue with them.

“Wha — how — what — is that—” Kai, predictably, is the first to go to pieces, his eyes wide as dinner plates in his dirt-stained face, his fingers hovering shakily over the metal arm as if touching it will make it real.

“Your arm,” Jay informs him blankly, gaping at him. “It’s gone?”

Oh, Lloyd’s aware.

“Yeah, it’s uh, it’s gone,” he explains, quickly. Then, because he needs to see a different expression on their faces than horrified shock— “It’s — it’s pretty disarming, haha, right?”

Kai looks like he’s either going to combust on the spot or physically smack him.

In the end, he makes this heartbreaking kind of “oh Lloyd” at him before throwing his arms around him, then immediately jumping to the absolute worst conclusions possible.

“Was it your dad — it was your dad, right? Was it Harumi? It must’ve been your dad, oh I’ll kill him, I’ll slaughter him for you Lloyd, I swear to FSM—”

This is followed by a general meltdown of “if only I’d been here,” which spirals into self-blame pretty fast, which Lloyd neither wants nor needs to happen right now (nor thinks is accurate, what could any of them have done anyways), so he throws Nya a desperate look.

“Look, stuff happened, okay?” she says, shouldering her way between Lloyd and the guys, wincing as her wrapped arm pulls. “The city’s on fire and Lloyd’s down an arm, we dealt with it. Right now we need to focus, because Garmadon and the Colossi are still out there, so please tell me those dragons are going to help us out.”

Again, Nya is one of Lloyd’s favorite people in the entire universe.

This distracts them enough that they momentarily get off Lloyd’s back, though he has a feeling he’s either gonna have to answer two hundred questions later or find a really good hiding spot.

But that’s a problem for a different Lloyd to worry about, and this one needs to focus on his father. And the fact that his uncle now looks ten times younger and is, much more importantly, about to let him ride on his dragon.

Lloyd’s halfway to the dragon when Cole catches him. He doesn’t grab him or anything, just touches his arm gently, his eyes horribly sad. “Lloyd,” he murmurs.

Something in Lloyd’s chest twists. This isn’t how it’s supposed to work. How is he supposed to pretend he’s not sad when they’ve all got this look on their faces?

“It’s fine,” he blusters, with a smile that is only half-forced. Fortunately, he has this part rehearsed by now. “It’s not a big deal — it doesn’t even hurt or anything. Don’t worry about it.”

Cole looks like he has every single intention of worrying about it, because Cole is Cole, but Lloyd can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed because he’s missed them so, so much. Sure, he’s mad at himself for giving them something to immediately worry about the second they even get back to the realm, but Lloyd’s too happy to see them at all to mind that much.

Plus, there’s like, a fifty-fifty chance his father is about to kill him pretty soon anyways, so he tries to enjoy it while he can. He’s sure Uncle Wu will do his best, but unless he’s got something big up his sleeve — besides the, uh, age thing — Lloyd isn’t so sure.

Winning against Garmadon isn’t something he’s ever been particularly good at, even with both arms.

************************

Lloyd wins this round.

Somehow, somehow — bruised and bloodied and down an entire arm — he wins this one. It’s almost surreal, standing on top of Borg Tower, the wind whipping eerily around them as he stares down at his father, kneeling on the ground before him. His father, defeated. Lloyd didn’t have to break this time, he didn’t even have to bend. He defeated his father, without his powers, without any cursed venom fueling him, and without his arm.

Take that, you stupid snake.

Well — technically. Technically, he did defeat his father with his arm, because there are going to be some spectacular bruises on Garmadon where he got sucker-punched by a solid metal fist in the morning. But still.

Lloyd didn’t have to kill him. Not this time.

The relief that hits him is so dizzyingly crushing, he almost throws up.

But oh, it figures. The one time Lloyd can end things with his dad alive, and it’s the time his dad hates him.

But Lloyd knows a little too well that things could’ve ended a lot worse. He’s got his family back, his whole family, Kai and Jay and Cole and Zane and the people that have stuck through the worst of it with him, and that’s more than enough for Lloyd to be happy. He doesn’t die, they win back the city, and Kai only cries about it like three times, so honestly, it’s almost the best he could hope for. The worst part is out of the way now, so really — it should be smooth sailing from here. The guys are upset about the arm thing, obviously, but it’s not really that big a deal. Lloyd just has to convince them of that, which shouldn’t be a problem.

A piece of cake, compared to the last few weeks. Besides, he’s already been through the worst of it.

************************

As is his luck, Lloyd finds himself eating his words half a week later.

“First Master—“

Lloyd chokes back a curse, stumbling out from bed as quietly as he can, teeth clacking as he clenches them together to keep from making any more noise. The guys don’t move, still solidly asleep, but that’s going to change real quick if Lloyd starts cursing up a storm over his stupid arm.

He bumps into the doorway on the way out and almost screams, biting his lip hard instead and fleeing down the hallway. Ow, ow, ow. He must’ve rolled his shoulder into his sword sometime in the night, because that’s what it feels like, a horrible kind of deep ache that leaves him wanting to sever what’s left of his limb as he stumbles into the kitchen. At least then, there would be less to hurt.

Lloyd passes by the several large windows in the apartment they’ve been staying in, and his heart immediately sinks. It’s dark outside, but the city lights illuminate the growing clouds above, and he can spot the flash of lightning in the distance. If the slight buzz in his blood at the oncoming storm wasn’t enough to clue him in, the building pressure in the atmosphere certainly is.

And he used to like rain, Lloyd thinks miserably, leaning his head briefly against the wall.

There’s a distant roll of thunder, and something in his arm — his stump, there is no arm there to hurt, that should help — throbs, deep and aching. Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back the budding tears of pain, and remembers his mission. They went shopping earlier, and he knows for a fact there’s pain killers somewhere in the kitchen. The promise of relief from the pain is enough to spur him from where he’s slumped against the wall, and he drags his feet down the rest of the hall, finally ducking into the kitchen, which is quiet and empty in the late-night hours.

Great. Now he’s just gotta find the stuff, and he can — well, he can try to go back to sleep. Maybe he’ll just watch cartoons instead, or stare blankly into oblivion, or something. His shoulder throbs again, and Lloyd forces himself to focus, blowing his breathe out. Right. Cole was the last one to take the meds, ‘cause he’s got all those nasty healing cuts. So if he was the one to put the bottle away last, that means it’s probably…on the…top shelf…

Lloyd carefully, quietly drowns the whine of despair in the back of his throat. He’d eat dirt before he admits he’s a shortie, but compared to Cole, everyone is, and Cole has a terrible habit of leaving all the meds on the highest shelf or cabinet possible when he’s done, which are always the ones Lloyd can’t reach. And right now, with the first drops of rain just starting to fleck on the windows, moving his arms anywhere above mid-waist sounds like death.

But sitting here with his arm on fire sounds even worse, so death it is.

Biting the bullet, Lloyd toes the handle on the drawer closest to the floor, bracing his good arm on the counter, and pushes himself up. He wobbles precariously, but he catches himself quickly, breathing out a huff of relief. Now comes the hard part. Gritting his teeth in determination, Lloyd swings his prosthetic arm up as quickly as he can, knocking against the uppermost cabinet and—

Lloyd’s vision blurs out as the pain in his shoulder decides to go nuclear, and he slips back down with a strangled choking sound, clutching the edge of his shoulder and desperately willing himself not to blast through the wall with his powers in agonized frustration. When the pain finally ebbs enough for him to think again, he slumps over the counter, bracing his good shoulder against it and letting the bad one hang loosely, where the pain pulses in and out like a heartbeat.

Like death, he thinks dully, hissing his breath out through his teeth. Right. Okay. He’ll just — take a nap on the counter then, until he can work himself back up to the cabinet.

Lloyd cracks an eye open, glaring hotly at the cabinet out of reach. Maybe if he like…rattles it? With his…leg, or something? He can do a pretty impressive high kick, if he tries. Anything not to move his stupid shoulders, because the pain radiating from the prosthetic port is — oh boy, it’s something.

…with hindsight, he should’ve been prepared for this. But still.

Lloyd kind of just….crashes on the counter, for as long as he can, but the pain finally gets bad enough that he’s willing to risk more for any kind of relief. Gritting his teeth again — his jaw is beginning to hurt — he squares his shoulders, instantly regretting the action as little lines of agony flare in his right side in tune with the thunder from outside. At that point, Lloyd’s brain finally decides it’s done with the situation on the whole, and he’s backing up to make a running jump for the cabinet, when—

“Who’s — stand down, I’ll blast you!”

Lloyd aborts his charge just in time to duck the bolt of lightning that flashes through the room with a yelp, sliding to the floor as his momentum sends him crashing into the lower drawers. His vision whites out for a good minute as he whacks his bad shoulder on the metal edge of a handle, and he might make some kind of muffled scream that sounds enough like him for Jay to recognize, because by the time it clears, Jay is staring at him with wide eyes, his face pale but clearly no longer registering Lloyd as a threat.

Still, just in case— “Don’t shoot,” Lloyd croaks out. “I’m unarmed.”

Jay’s expression spasms, but the crackle of electricity silences, and the blue light extinguishes as he lowers his hands. Lloyd notes the way they’re trembling, despite how hard Jay’s trying to stop it. “Lloyd, seriously,” he mutters, but he’s at Lloyd’s side in a beat, hovering anxiously.

“Are — are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd says, trying not to wince as he shoulder twinges. “I, uh, sorry if I scared you. I was just getting some water.”

Jay looks up to the cabinets, then back to Lloyd, where he’s yet to rise from the floor. He needs to get up already, because he’s got like, an image to keep here, but he’s also too scared that his stump of a limb is going to attempt murder again, and that’s keeping him pretty solidly rooted to the floor.

“You’re on the floor, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd shoots back, making a face. “Maybe I like it here.”

“Uh-huh.” Jay’s expression is narrow-eyed in skepticism, and Lloyd shrinks in on himself a bit. Still, though — the expression is better to see than the stark terror that had been written over Jay’s face when he’d walked in. The remnants of it are still there, if fading quick — Jay doesn’t look quite like Jay yet, bright and happy and quick on the uptake.

He looks tired, dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes, and his movements are slower than usual, as if perpetually lagging a step behind. Like he’s being dragged down by something, and it’s taking an extra amount of strength to fight it off that’d usually go toward bad jokes.

Which is sad, because Lloyd could really go for a bad joke right now. The atmosphere’s been heavy enough around their little apartment after everything, and it’s only worse now, with Lloyd curled up on the floor and Jay watching his arm with hollow eyes. And that’s not even talking about the actual atmosphere, which is currently trying to make Lloyd consider knocking himself out to escape the pain. Bad Jay jokes would be nice. Lloyd misses having something to laugh about.

But you know what, that’s quitter talk. Lloyd can make bad jokes, too.

“You uh, you wanna give me an arm up, here?” he says, grinning weakly at Jay. “Could really use a hand, if you get what I’m saying.”

“You — you’re terrible,” Jay sputters, but he cracks the edge of a smile, and Lloyd silently congratulates himself on that small victory.

“But you love me.”

It comes out too much of a question, and Lloyd bites his tongue. But Jay’s eyes soften as he pulls him up, and he’s gentle as he does it, so it barely hurts.

“Yeah, short stuff,” he says. “I do.”

And that’s — Lloyd swallows. That’s too much emotion for him to deal with in Jay’s voice right now, even if it is the kind of reassurance he clings to with a desperation these days.

“Short stuff,” he scowls instead. “You’re one to talk.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jay grins, a bit weaker than his usual one. “I grew a half an inch in the First Realm, bud. I’ve got you now.”

“No way,” Lloyd counters, squinting at him. “You look shorter, if anything. I’ve got you now.”

“I do not.” It’s Jay’s turn to scowl. “And please, the only height you’ve gained is your hair. Fluffing it up all crazy does not count.”

Lloyd snorts, despite himself. “My hair, you should see-ee—”

His voice abruptly pitches higher, strangling off mid-sentence as a fresh wave of bright pain sears through his shoulder, throbbing with the increased thudding of rain against the window. Lloyd almost bites his tongue in half as he dips forward, words momentarily lost as his teeth grind together.

Jay’s at his side in an instant. “It’s the storm, isn’t it,” he says, his eyes bright in concern. “Your arm is hurting extra.”

“T-technically, it’s not,” Lloyd breathes out. Words are back online again, that’s good. He exhales, shuddering. “S’just what’s left of it.”

Jay worries his lip, and then realization sparks in his eyes. “You were going for the top cabinet,” he says, slowly. Then— “Cole had the pain meds last, didn't he.”

Lloyd nods, his good hand clutching and un-clutching at his shoulder. Jay makes a sympathetic noise in his throat, then moves for the cabinet himself. He uses the same drawer handle as a step-up that Lloyd did, but he doesn’t wobble, snatching the bottle from the top shelf and stepping down neatly. Thunder shakes through the apartment, and Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut tight, barely conscious of the sound of running water. When he opens them, Jay is in front of him again, a glass of water and four larger pills held out.

“You look like you could use the extra,” he says, in explanation.

Lloyd nods gratefully, shoving the pills in his mouth before grabbing the glass and draining it. “Thanks,” he croaks out.

Jay nods, his eyes lingering on Lloyd’s prosthetic. He opens his mouth once, then closes it. Then opens it again, inhaling like he’s gonna say something, then shuts it again. Then again—

“Jay, spit it out.”

“CanIlookatit,” Jay blurts out, red immediately rising in his cheeks.

Lloyd blinks rapidly, trying to parse out the jumble of words. “Can you — huh?”

“Look at it,” Jay repeats, shifting awkwardly. “Your, uh, your arm? The prosthetic one, I mean. Just ‘cause I think I can help it! Help you, I think I can help you, ‘cause you kinda look like it’s hurting you, which would make sense, with the storm, and I might be able to — to help, if that’s not like, a problem with you — if it is that’s fine! I totally get it, I mean if my arm had got — was lost, I’d be—”

“J-Jay, slow — Jay,” Lloyd tries vainly to cut over him once, before succeeding the second time. Lloyd gives him a weak smile, then flops his arm out. He immediately regrets the action, as it feels like he’s shoved a knife or two into his arm. “It’s — ow — fine. You can look at it.”

“Oh! Cool,” Jay says, deflating in relief. “Ah, thanks for trusting me?”

Lloyd waves him off, with his good arm his time. “There’s like, six people left I trust, but I trust ‘em with my life. You’re one of them.”

“Oh,” Jay repeats, but he sounds sad this time. A little too understanding, too, and Lloyd wonders if their entire team isn’t suffering similar issues with putting faith in people, after everything.

“Here,” Jay says firmly, as if shaking that sobering thought off. He points to the couch, eyeing Lloyd as he winces with the thunder again. “Wanna lie down, so I can look at it?”

“Sure,” Lloyd mutters, flopping down on the couch (and immediately regretting the action, again, you’d think he’d learn by now), lying with his head at the left end so he can spread his prosthetic out on the edge of the cushioned footrest. Jay steps over, carefully sitting down on the floor by him, hands hovering hesitantly over the arm.

…his arm. His arm, just a bit different.

“I like the design here,” Jay says quietly, his fingers ghosting over the engraving Nya had put on one quieter day during the Resistance. It’s in the shape of a dragon, like the one of his other spare prosthetic, but this one is a little subtler, almost sketched into the metal. “It’s cool.”

“Nya did it,” Lloyd says. “And you can touch it, if you want.”

“Oh — yeah,” Jay gives a nervous laugh. “Um. Could I, like, see where it…attaches?”

Lloyd blinks, glancing to where the sleeves of his too-big (Kai’s) t-shirt fall well over where the metal arm meets his stump. He swallows, then nods, carefully rolling back the fabric until his shoulder’s exposed. “That good?”

Jay, to his credit, just gives a quiet, hissing little intake of breath, and nods. And it really is to his credit, because while Pixal did all she could, the surgery was — well, Lloyd was in and out during it, but it was haphazard at best, and the scarring it left all up to his shoulder is…

It’s not pretty. And Lloyd’s been thinking he doesn’t mind, but now that he actually has someone looking at it, he’s realizing he might.

Time to invest in a lot more long sleeves, he thinks dully.

Jay’s frozen for a second, and Lloyd bites his lip, trying not to squirm as he stares openly at the scarring. Then he shakes his head, bright eyes gaining the steady determination Lloyd knows, and sets to work, fingers carefully skimming one of the compartment edges.

“Lemme know if anything hurts.”

Lloyd just nods. It’s weird, at first, feeling but not really feeling as Jay fiddles with the arm. He still doesn’t like not being able to truly feel stuff with it, but right now, with the pulsing pain still lingering from the storm outside, he’s almost glad for it. To the point where the idea of feeling anything else in what’s left of his poor arm almost has him flinching away from Jay.

Jay’s fingers are careful, though, and he finally clicks something in the arm into place that shifts the whole thing, the throbbing pressure on a few particular nerves in Lloyd’s arm letting up some, and his shoulders go loose in relief, the tight rigidness he’s been holding them in easing off.

“Oh,” he exhales in relief, a bit shakily as he sits up. “That’s better. That — thank you. That’s a lot better.”

Jay beams, clearly pleased with himself. “No problem, green machine,” he says. “Just glad I can help. I mean, Nya did a great job with it, but the uh — the wires right here, you see? Those can get twisted up if you move around a lot, and that’ll create pressure on the nerves, and then you’ve got the gears here, and…”

Lloyd quickly loses track of Jay’s technical babble, nodding along like he understands instead. His brother’s stream of chatter is a nice sound against the rain in the background, warm and familiar, and Lloyd slowly relaxes further, his shoulders crying in relief as they lose their tension. The meds are kicking in now too, and the pain’s ebbed into something a lot easier to manage. Enough for Lloyd to start feeling guilty, anyways.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” he finally says, after Jay’s wound down from his explanation, ducking his head.  

Jay waves him off. “I was already up, anyways,” he shrugs. “The storm woke me. They…they do that a lot.”

Lightning flashes, as if to echo his statement, and Lloyd notices the twitch that runs through Jay this time, how he almost seems to vibrate with the thunder that follows.

“Does it bother you?” he asks, a little hesitantly. “The storm?”

It feels like a silly question, because Jay can practically create storms, he thrives in them, Lloyd’s seem him straight-up catch a lightning bolt in his hand and chuck it like a baseball without breaking a sweat. But even though Lloyd's definitely not the ninja of lightning, it is the element he found easiest to wield, when he’d had all four, and he remembers the way the connection would buzz at him.

Jay bites his lip, his fingers tapping some vaguely familiar beat on the table as he fidgets, turning the question over in his head.

“It’s — I feel it under my skin, you know?” he finally says, bouncing a bit in agitation. “I mean, it’s not bad, but I can — I can hear the lightning outside, like it’s talking to me, and I can’t sleep through it. I normally can, I mean, but — but normally it’s not this loud.”

He trails off, frustrated as he glares out the window. “Everything’s been loud since the First Realm,” he mutters, beneath his breath.

“Oh,” Lloyd says, quietly. The guys have told them about the First Realm, sure, but like — not really. The same way Lloyd and Nya have told them about the Resistance, but not really. An outline of the events, sure. A plot-like summary of important details, as detached as possible, sure. But all the worst parts, the crushing grief and despair and the awful headaches from too little sleep and too many held-back tears, all that? No way.

So while Lloyd knows they went through heck in the First Realm, he doesn’t really know. But with the way Jay’s eyes are shadowed, the dark circles beneath them and the way he looks like he’s years older as he stares at the storm out the window right now, he can guess.

“That must’ve been tough,” he finally says, hesitantly. “Being stranded, and everything. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I was cut off from everything like that.”

Jay blows his breath out, his fingers trembling slightly where they lace together. “It wasn’t fun,” he says, a little distantly. “I…I was kind of a mess, at first. I think I scared the guys. I wish I hadn’t, but it was just — it was a lot.”

Lloyd’s not sure what to say to that, so he just squeezes Jay’s forearm with his good hand, and hopes it’s worth something.

Jay shakes his head, almost as if to himself, “I just wish I’d been useful.”

Lloyd blinks at that, taken aback — and pretty concerned — at the gaping insecurity in Jay’s voice. He knows Jay struggles with that, but to see it this raw—

It hurts.

“Kai says you helped build that dragon,” he says, nudging Jay’s side with his knee. “That plan wouldn’t have worked without you. And you drew up the actual plans, and kept them secret and everything. And I saw you, when you guys came back. You saved us, right in the nick of time. It sounded like you were pretty crucial to the whole thing, to me.”

Jay gives a huff of laughter, but some of the tension in his expression eases. “You’re just saying that. Buttering me up,” he shakes his head, knocking his fist against Lloyd’s leg.

“Am not,” Lloyd says, kneeing him back. “I’m serious. You’re all kinds of useful. I’d totally hire you, if you came to me with your ninja resumé.”

“Yeah, ‘cause job number one on it would be ‘green ninja babysitter’. You’d have no choice."

Lloyd sputters. “I’m not — you guys don’t babysit me.”

“I have a whole lot of evidence that proves otherwise,” Jay says, grinning. “The others would agree, too.”

“This is mutiny,” Lloyd glares. “The nerve, the utter disrespect. I’m your leader.”

Jay actually laughs at that, further proving Lloyd’s point that his whole team is awful. But it’s a genuine laugh, one that softens the lines of stress at the corners of Jay’s eyes, so Lloyd figures he can let it go and laugh a little himself.

This time. They’re gonna have to talk about the babysitting thing later.

“We really missed you guys,” Lloyd finally says as his laughter ebbs, his traitor voice cracking in the middle. “A-a lot. I’m really glad you’re back. Like, you have no idea.”

“I think we kinda do,” Jay breathes out on dying laughter. “We missed you too, you know. We couldn’t even check if you were alright, we had no idea what was happening. You guys were realms away.”

Lloyd swallows back the ‘but you were dead’. Jay doesn’t need that knowledge right now. Jay needs to be able to relax, and to get more than three hours of sleep for once.

“Well, we’re in the same one now,” he says, with a wry smile. “Hopefully we can stay that way, for a while.”

“Do not jinx us,” Jay points his finger at him, and Lloyd manages a grin that feels genuine this time, shrugging. He’s beyond pleased to find out that the action doesn’t hurt so much, only feeling the faint twinges of pain this time. Lloyd stifles a yawn instead of replying, and Jay fixes him with a look, jerking his head back toward the bedroom.

“If your arm’s better, you should get back to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lloyd mutters, biting back a groan as he stands, wobbling a bit as his arm swings loosely. “That goes for you, too.”

“I’m not the one with designer bags for eyes,” Jay says, even though he clearly has dark circles worse than Lloyd. He pauses, eyeing Lloyd’s arm. “You really shouldn’t sleep with this on, you know,” he adds, tapping his wrist, nails clacking oddly on the metal.

Lloyd cringes. “I know,” he mutters. “I’m just — I don’t wanna have to put it on, if we…”

“If we’re attacked in the middle of the night?” Jay says drily, but there’s understanding in his voice. “Yeah, I get that. But hey, how about this: you sleep with it off for tonight, and if anyone comes in to kill you, I’ll take ‘em out.”

Lloyd raises an eyebrow. “Lightning blast to the face?”

“Lightning blast to the face,” Jay nods solemnly.

Lloyd shifts, arms wrapped around himself, his real fingers clenching anxiously at the juncture where his prosthetic meets his arm. It’s tempting, the idea of having the heavy weight off for the night. Really tempting.

But that also means taking it off, and that sounds…less than fun, especially after all the pain he’s already been in tonight.

“I’ll consider it,” Lloyd says, smiling weakly. “But I have full faith in you.”

Jay’s eyes are understanding as he nods, knocking his fist gently against Lloyd’s arm again. “Good. Now, bed. Practice starts back tomorrow, remember? You don’t wanna be dead tired for that.”

Lloyd’s heart sinks. Oh, no. He’d forgotten.

“Aw, man,” he moans. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

“Don’t say that,” Jay says, clearly trying to sound optimistic. “It’ll go fine. Wait and see.”

************************

It is, in fact, a disaster.

The first practice with the guys after everything reminds him a whole lot of his first time sparring with Nya down one arm, and that — well, sucks. That’s about as cheerfully as he can put it.

“Do you need a hand?” Lloyd looks up at the voice, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun. Zane’s standing over him, looking slightly apologetic, his hand outstretched.

Lloyd takes the offered hand, pulling himself with a grunt of effort. “Yeah, a right one would be nice.”

Jay and Nya groan in unison. Zane just flicks his eyes skywards, his mouth curving up slightly as he hauls Lloyd the rest of the way to his feet. Lloyd wobbles a bit, caught off guard, and Zane steadies him, grabbing for his prosthetic before he can lose balance. Zane’s hand lingers a little too long around it, his eyes flashing in concentration where they rest on the metal fingers. Lloyd’s about to ask him what’s up — growing slightly defensive — when Zane lets go, blinking once. The look of furrowed concentration stays on his face even as he steps back, though, and Lloyd’s not sure if he likes that.

“Sorry, Lloyd,” Cole says, interrupting his train of thought as he steps forward, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck in guilt. “I didn’t think you’d — I shouldn’t have been hitting that hard.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Kai snaps testily, his eyes flashing in the dangerous kind of protectiveness Lloyd’s used to seeing against people not in their family. He quickly intervenes, waving his hands.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, chill out,” he says, hastily. “I wasn’t paying attention, it was my fault. Besides, it’s not any worse than what Nya gave me the first time we sparred with, uh…the arm.”

Nya rolls her eyes. “You kept tripping everywhere. That’s not my fault.”

Lloyd goes a bit red, but he doesn’t argue back. He’s pretty sure Pixal has video footage that would invalidate any argument he’d have, anyways.

Kai looks between the two of them, then seems to lose some of the fire, shoulders sagging. “Just…be more careful,” he mutters. “Lloyd’s arm is still pretty new.”

Lloyd’s head swivels to Kai, his mouth half-open, incredulous. He begs Kai’s pardon, who, again, lost their arm here and who definitely didn’t? Who knows what they’re talking about, and who knows absolutely nothing—

“Yeah, no, for sure,” Cole nods back, like Lloyd isn’t even here. “I’ll let up on the heavier attacks, too.”

Lloyd snaps his mouth shut tightly. He wants to scream. They’re all acting like Lloyd is glass, like he’s fragile. And that’s not the problem. The problem isn’t his arm. The problem isn’t even that he’s not used to the prosthetic, because at this point he kinda is. (He’s getting there.) No, the problem is that the guys are all walking on eggshells around him, to the point where the hits they do throw at him are so sporadic it’s completely throwing Lloyd off. Like he’s being attacked by uncoordinated chickens with no heart in their attacks, or something.

It’s actually a pretty good strategy to keep in mind, he muses, for another time when the target isn’t him.

“Um, no, you won’t,” he says instead, biting his cheek to keep the edge out of his voice. “You’re going to actually attack me. You’re holding back so much right now you’re handicapping yourself worse than me without a metal arm.”

Cole looks taken aback. “I just sent you to the ground, bud,” he says. “Hard.”

“You only sent me to the ground because I wasn’t expecting you to hit like Jay,” Lloyd shoots back.

“Hey!”

“If that’s the tactic you wanna use, fine, but only if you’ve got a plan for when I blast you right back from the ground.”

Cole blinks. “Do your powers even work with the prosthetic?”

“I do have another arm,” Lloyd growls. He immediately feels bad, because he sounds angrier than he should be, but that subject’s touchy. He hasn’t tried to use his powers with the prosthetic yet, apart from the blinding blast of energy he’d given off when he’d first gotten them back, and he doesn’t want to find out if another use will blow his arm to pieces or not.

“It should work with it, anyways,” Nya assures them, though there’s a spark of uncertainty in her eyes. “Your powers are pretty intuitive. They protect you, so it wouldn’t make sense for them to hurt you like that.”

Lloyd doesn’t say how completely unfounded this is, because his powers tried to protect him during the fight with his father and they sure as heck hurt him then, but she does have…a bit of a point. And again — there’s like, the glaring fact that his arm did not explode when he went supernova on top of Borg Tower. And Lloyd’s control is way better these days, so in all honesty, it’ll probably be fine.

But on the off chance. Lloyd is trying to be more careful, lately.

Now the guys, though. The guys are taking careful to a completely ridiculous level.

“Maybe we should tone it down for today, just to be safe,” Kai says, exchanging looks with Cole. A vein somewhere in Lloyd’s forehead begins to throb. “We don’t want to take any risks.”

“Oh, yeah, like we weren’t taking plenty of risks while you guys were gone in the First Realm. Oh wait, we did, and we were just fine then,” Lloyd snaps.

He immediately regrets it, because Kai’s expression does this awful crumpling thing, and Cole’s eyes widen painfully. Jay just looks down, and Lloyd hates himself.

“I-I didn’t mean—” he stammers, grasping desperately for the words to apologize, when Zane lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

“How about I train with Lloyd one on one for a bit,” he says. The corners of his mouth quirk up, humorlessly. “I think cooling down might be in order.”

Lloyd feels his cheeks heat, but he ducks his head, nodding. Kai looks like he want to protest, but he shuts his mouth, nodding as well, and Lloyd’s relieved to see a kind of understanding in his eyes.

He hopes he does, Lloyd thinks to himself, as Zane leads them away from the others, to the other side of the yard they’re using for training. He hopes, that Kai and Jay and Cole know he isn’t actually trying to attack them for getting yanked into another realm instead of being crushed to death, because that is definitely not something he would ever complain about—

“So, how strong is your arm?”

Lloyd blinks rapidly, yanked back to the present. “My — what?”

Zane repeats the question, patiently. “Your arm, the prosthetic one. Do you know how strong it is?”

“Like…as in durability, or how hard can I hit with it?” Lloyd asks, flexing a metal wrist.

“Ah. That’s a good question,” Zane tilts his head. “Both, I suppose.”

“Um, pretty strong, I guess,” Lloyd winces, remembering the last time he’d tested how strong it was, and he’d sent the punching bag through the wall instead. “Most of the strength is in my forearm, ‘cause it’s just metal and gears there. It gets a little dicey where it connects, up here, but it can take the heavy hits.”

His father had the honor of testing that part out, he thinks bitterly.

Zane nods, his eyes calculating. “Good. Then show me a heavy hit.”

It takes a second for the question to register, but when it does, Lloyd blanches. “No,” he says, firmly. “No way.” He remembers how the punching bag crumpled beneath his metal fist. He remembers too well how his father, full power, had actually buckled under several of his hits. The idea of hitting one of the guys with that same force makes him sick.

“Ah,” Zane says, and there’s a spark in his eyes. “So now you want to start holding back.”

“This — this is different,” Lloyd grinds out, trying not to go red in embarrassment. “It’s one thing to hold back entirely, but my arm is — its different, Zane, it’s way stronger now, and I don’t wanna hurt you guys with it.”

“I’m not going to break, Lloyd,” Zane says, cooly.

Lloyd bites his lip. “Look, I’m serious, you don’t understan—”

The end of Lloyd’s sentence cuts off with a yelp as Zane sweeps his leg out from beneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground. He looks up at him, wounded, and Zane just tilts his head.

“You said you want us to stop holding back,” he says, challenging. “You want a real fight, so fight back. Hit me.”

That’s all the warning Lloyd gets before Zane sweeps another kick toward him, forcing Lloyd to roll out of the way, somersaulting backwards before springing back to his feet. He opens his mouth to protest, but Zane’s elbow is already whistling toward his head, followed by his fist, and Lloyd’s too busy blocking and dodging to get any word out edgewise.

He’s not going to hit him with it, Lloyd tells himself fiercely. He’s not, but — but Zane is actually attacking him now, with all the cool calculation and devastating accuracy Zane is really good at, and if Lloyd doesn’t launch a counterattack soon, Zane’s going to obliterate him in full view of everyone.

Through the buzz of adrenaline, Lloyd bites back a curse. He’s forgotten, for a crippling moment, how smart Zane is. The way he’s pressing on him is leaving his left arm for blocking, which means the only way he’s gonna get a decent hit in is with his right. So either Lloyd sucks it up and hits Zane with the metal arm already, or he’s going to eat dirt the rest of the day.

Darn it, Zane, Lloyd thinks heatedly, barely dodging the next barrage of hits, wincing as one clips his shoulder. He’s just gonna have to do it. They both asked for this—

Lloyd suddenly ducks, darting beneath Zane’s blow then squaring back, bringing his fist up and swinging hard — just to crash right into Zane’s own blocked fist with a loud, screeching clang of metal.

Lloyd blinks. The hit he’d just thrown wasn’t holding back — it was way harder than he should’ve thrown, actually — but Zane just slides a few feet back, barely flinching. He flexes his wrist, a grin curving up the edge of his mouth.

“You aren’t the only one with a metal arm, you know,” he says evenly, and oh. Oh. Lloyd stops dead, staring at him.

So Lloyd’s just an idiot. Here he is, freaking out about how different his arm is now, how no one gets it, and Zane’s been metal this whole entire time.

“I…” Lloyd trails off, staring at him wordlessly. He feels so stupid, a total sham of the leader he’s supposed to be. He’s overlooked the most obvious fact ever, to the point where he’s been severely misjudging Zane, and that’s…that’s bad. That’s very bad, if he’s calling himself leader here.

And that, Lloyd realizes, with an unpleasant jolt, is the real problem with all this. Not the guys, not the arm. It’s Lloyd, failing to lead them against Harumi, failing to lead them against his father, and failing to lead them now. No wonder they can’t take him seriously, when Lloyd can’t even give them the decency of doing the same.

“Oh,” he whispers.

“It’s difficult,” Zane says, quietly. “To see yourself as one way, then suddenly as another. Even if it’s just one limb. Adjusting can be…difficult.”

Lloyd ducks his head, swallowing. “I’m sorry.”

Zane makes a noise that could be a huff of laughter, if it wasn’t so exasperated. “You don’t need to apologize. That is not the point I’m trying to make.”

Lloyd stares at the ground, not meeting his eyes. Zane’s footsteps draw close, until he’s right in front of him.

“Lloyd.” Zane’s hand is gentle on his shoulder, and Lloyd slowly looks up at him, feeling very much like he’s nine years old again, and Zane is the older brother who knows infinitely more about the world than he ever will.

“We are more than just a team for you to lead,” he says, gently. “We’re your family, above all else. We may not have been here when you needed us, but we are here now, and we want to be. We trust you. We just want you to trust us back.”

“I do,” Lloyd says, fervently. “I do, Zane, and I didn’t mean to — I never blamed—” He cuts off, shaking his head and swallowing. “I wanted to be there, too,” he rasps. “I — we couldn’t be there for you guys, either. You were alone, too. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to any of us.”

“No,” Zane says, sounding very tired. “No, it wasn’t.”

Not for the first time, Lloyd wonders how heavily the guys edited their own story of their time apart, and how much of the darker stuff they decided to leave out. The hollow look in Zane’s eyes leaves his stomach sinking. Probably a lot.

“B-but we’re together now,” Lloyd finally speaks up, cringing at the waver in his voice. “And, um. I know I’ve been most of the problem, but — but I trust you guys. I trust you, so — could you show me how to use my arm?”

Zane looks at him, and Lloyd offers him a tentative smile. “Since you’re the resident expert, and all.”

Zane’s mouth quirks up in a grin of amusement, and Lloyd feels a happy flare of victory at the action.  

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” he says, lightly. “But yes, I can help adjust your training. Provided, of course, you throw better hits. No offense intended, but that one was…pitiful, at best.”

Lloyd chokes on a laugh. “Okay, if that’s how it is. I’ll show you a real hit. Just don’t go crying to Cole when I wipe the floor with you.”

“I assure you,” and there’s an edge to Zane’s smile that promises Lloyd’s not leaving here without his fair share of bruises. “I have no intention of doing so.”

************************

Training with Zane helps even more than he’d thought it would. Not only does Lloyd start to learn how to better use his prosthetic to an advantage, the others pick up on it and start actually fighting Lloyd again, well-practiced moves and techniques that force him to fight back, and by the third week of practices they’ve all slid back into a steady routine, even if there is still the occasional hesitation when it comes to Lloyd’s right arm.

Except for Nya. She’s been sending him sprawling across the mat since day one, no problem, and even with her healing arm she’s never stopped threatening to do it again.

Lloyd’s beyond grateful, though — he’s starting to almost feel normal again, to feel a little like his old self, with his proper place on the team, and he finally, finally feels like he’s doing something right. So he’s got no right to complain whatsoever, when the increased training leaves his arm feeling so sore he may as well have gotten hit by a truck.

A throbbing ache shoots through his right wrist again, pulsing up through the bones of his arm. Lloyd’s fingers grasp on air, wavering once, twice before it clicks that there’s nothing there. A croaking laugh almost bubbles up in his throat. His arm is in agony and it’s not even there. There is no wrist there to hurt, he doesn’t even have his prosthetic on right now. So why—

Phantom pain, he reminds himself firmly, before clicking the prosthetic back into place, the motion slowly growing familiar. It’s just a ghost, like Morro. Lloyd survived him, he can survive this.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to be hallucinating an arm that’s not there. He’s gotta have his best face on right now, because this…this is going to take a lot out of him.

Lloyd stares at Kryptarium Prison with hollow eyes, trying to rid himself of the icy shiver that’s crawling up and down his spine. They’ve since fixed the damage to the walls, and he’s eternally grateful for that — but the stretch of stone that’s been recently repaired is obvious, and Lloyd can easily pick out exactly where he went bursting through when—

When Lloyd’s brain was an idiot, he scolds himself, as the shiver threatens to turn into a full-blown panic attack. Those memories need to go right back into the dark hole he’s shoved them in, where they can stay for the rest of his entire life.

Besides, the person he’s about to see is gonna bring back enough bad memories, as it is.

Lloyd swallows, forcing past the fear closing in around his throat as he finally starts walking again, his feet practically dragging toward the prison doors. His arm throbs in pain with every step, spreading to the aching twin points on the back of his right hand.

Which isn’t there, he reminds himself fiercely. There’s no hand to hurt, move past it, brain.

The doors slide open for him with a mechanical hiss, a chiming bell warning the guards of his entrance. Lloyd’s in full gi, hood pulled back, so no one stops him, the outermost guards just nodding to him as he passes. Lloyd barely manages a grimace of greeting for them, where he’d normally have at least something sincere. But it’s hard enough, trying to keep his expression impassive. Each step further into the prison feels like a step closer to his doom, and this is ridiculous because the only other time he’s felt this nervous walking up a set of stairs was the Overlord—

“Name, please?”

Lloyd blinks, abruptly realizing he’s already reached the check-in gate. He shakes his head, trying to reorient himself. Name, please, he thinks drily, as he looks up. Like this guard doesn’t know who he is, entirely decked out in green, it isn’t like he’s been on TV a whole lot in the last month—

Anyways.

“Lloyd Garmadon,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound like a gasp for air. “I’d like to see my — um, Lord Garmadon. He should be in heavy lockdown.”

Private lockdown, somewhere dark and deep, probably, Lloyd thinks. He tells himself he doesn’t feel anything at that. His father probably likes it, anyways, being alone and in the dark. That’s all it seems he’d even wanted, except for maybe her—

Lloyd thrusts the hot flash of emotion down deep along with the rest of that thought, and tries to focus on the guard’s reply.

“—terribly sorry, but I can’t let you in.”

Lloyd’s brain stutters to a halt. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” he frowns, taken aback. He doesn’t like to throw his weight around, but Lloyd’s pretty sure that the ninja are supposed to have clearance to the entire prison. Especially after everything that’s happened, he and Nya practically have clearance to the entire city at this point.

“Your name’s been blacklisted,” the guard chews on the edge of his lip nervously. “Y-you aren’t allowed access to the prisoner in question.”

Lloyd blinks rapidly. “What?”

The guard is visibly sweating now. “The, uh, the records say I can’t let you in. To see him. Not without a signature.”

Lloyd’s stomach does a weird swooping thing, like he’s missed a step on the stairs. If he needs a signature, then someone had to go out of their way to block him — specifically him — from seeing Garmadon. Someone who the warden apparently decided had the right to make decisions for Lloyd.

“Who’s signature,” Lloyd grits out, fury barely held back.

The poor guard — because he really doesn’t deserve this, but oh, Lloyd is angry — shrinks even smaller in his seat, swallowing.

“Wu,” he finally says, stammering. “Your uncle, he — I’m sorry, but he technically has the right…”

Lloyd steps back, metal creaking as his fist forms. “Thank you,” he clips out tightly, then spins in place, hoping his eyes haven’t gone supernova yet.

No, he’s saving that for his uncle.

************************

“How could you do that.”

Sensei Wu barely stirs, visibly unaffected by the way Lloyd’s just slammed his door open, and is currently fuming in the doorway like a very angry part-Oni crime of nature.

“It was, at the moment, the correct course of action to take.” He sips evenly at his tea, not even attempting to pretend he doesn’t know exactly what Lloyd’s talking about.

Lloyd sees red. “You had no right.”

Sensei Wu finally looks at him, sighing wearily. “I’m your family, Lloyd. I have every right—”

“Not this one!”

Sensei’s eyes are sympathetic, but unrelenting. “Your mother told me what happened, Lloyd. What you did.”

Lloyd almost swallows his tongue at the shock of surprise, but it quickly mixes with a hot flare of betrayal in his chest. It’s his arm, it’s his story to tell.

“Cool.” The words scrape through his teeth. “That doesn’t mean you can block me from seeing him!”

“Your head isn’t in the right place to see him, Lloyd. Neither is your heart. I believe you know this, too.”

“My head—” Lloyd trips over his words in anger. “My head is fine! So’s my heart, thanks.”

Sensei Wu’s eyes narrow. “You’ve never been the best of liars, nephew.”

Lloyd is going to smash his stupid teapot. “Then maybe your perception is still off from the First Realm, uncle.”

A part of Lloyd’s soul dies at the sentence, because it’s the most dangerously rude thing he’s said to his uncle since he was like, eight. But he swallows it back, because he has a bad feeling it’s not going to be the worst thing he says in this conversation.

His uncle’s lips press tightly together, and Lloyd feels more than sees the crackle of anger in his eyes as the atmosphere heats, no longer a conversation between sensei and student. It’s a family conversation, now. “I hardly need much perception to see how traumatized you are from recent events. It’s not difficult to miss.”

“Traumatized—” Lloyd sputters, his own eyes narrowing. “You know what, fine, so what? It’s not like I haven’t been — been traumatized, or whatever, before,” he snaps. “Morro put my head pretty out of place, and you were fine with that.”

Sensei Wu’s eyes flash. “I was not ‘fine’ with that. I was nowhere near fine with that, but at that time you were equipped to deal with it. And you were not forcing yourself to face Morro on some shred of false hope you know will only hurt.”

Lloyd full-body flinches back at that last part. But it’s not that — it’s not because —

See, Lloyd knows. He’s had it physically beaten into him multiple times, that he’s not the father he knew. He knows that he’s not really him, that he will never be him, that he will never regain the father he lost no matter how much this one looks like him.

But — but Lloyd’s heart can only take so much at once, and he’s dangerously close to reaching a point where nothing will repair that kind of break. He can take a hundred prison walls and his arm cut off fifty times in a row, but that is something he’d rather die than have to face right now.

And to hear the phrase false hope coming from the one person he’d hoped would understand nearly breaks Lloyd on the spot.

So he gets angry instead.

“You taught me not to give in to fear,” his voice is icy, words measured and slow. “You taught me not to put off until tomorrow what I can deal with today, and you wanted me to make my own decisions.”

“Yet I do not recall teaching you to disregard any and all concerns for your wellbeing,” his uncle replies, his voice just as glacial. “Nor do I remember teaching you to argue back against my orders.”

“You made me master!” Lloyd nearly shouts back, barely restraining himself. “You told me to start giving the orders, how am I supposed to do that if you don’t trust me? You can’t keep doing this to me, either you trust me or you don’t!”

“I do trust you, but I will not lose another member of my family because they believe they’re stronger than they are!” Uncle Wu snaps, his eyes flashing, and for a beat Lloyd can almost see the Oni in his blood, as well. “I’ve forced you to face your father too many times, Lloyd. I will not let him continue to hurt you.”

“He isn’t hurting me!” Lloyd bursts out, despite knowing those words are a stone-cold lie. But— “He’s already hurt me, I almost died, what worse can he do from a prison cell?”

“More than you will acknowledge!” his uncle barks back. He exhales tightly, eyes closing briefly before re-opening. “Lloyd, I understand that you are upset with my decision. But in time, you will see that this was the right one. Your perception is clouded to the point where you can no longer see yourself properly, and a leader who continues to put themselves further into that state is not fit to be leader.”

Lloyd’s teeth snap together with an audible clack, and his fists tighten, fingernails biting into his palms and metal fingers creaking. “You’ve been gone for months,” he grinds out. “For a year, and I led just fine that whole time. You can’t just come back now and say I’m — I’m a screwup—”

“That is not what I—”

“And you keep talking about decisions, when you didn’t even ask me before—”

“Lloyd—”

“—going behind my back is way out of line and you know it!”

“This is not—”

“And my perception is fine, I do see myself—”

“Lloyd, I said—”

“—and I’m fine, Uncle Wu, I swear, I can face him I’m fine—”

“That is enough, Lloyd!”

Lloyd flinches back as his uncle’s voice cracks out, angrier than he’s heard it. Wu’s knuckles turn white around his cup handle, and his eyes glint with the steel of his glare. “This is my decision, and I will not move from it until you can prove that you are ready.”

Until he can prove he’s ready. Like Lloyd hasn’t had to prove again and again—

Like he doesn’t believe in Lloyd either when he was the one—

Like Lloyd wasn’t willing to lose an arm not to fail him—

Something dangerous in Lloyd snaps.

“You’re just as bad as him,” he spits, venomous like a snake. “You’re all the same, you think you know what’s best for me and you never care how I feel! You don’t even care about me, you just care about the stupid Green Ninja and your stupid prophecies and I’m sick of it, I’m so sick of being your Green Ninja, I hate it!”

Sensei Wu goes stark white. His fingers tremble and his teacup drops to the table, his eyes painfully wide. “Lloyd,” he whispers, weakly. “That’s not—”

“Fine,” Lloyd snaps over him, blinking back angry tears. “Fine, I’ll stay away from him. I’ll stay away from all of you. I hate being part of this family anyways.”

He turns on heel before he can look at his uncle a second longer, before the tears can start to fall and he has the chance to say anything else. There’s a high-pitched buzzing in his ears as he storms back down the hall, the lightbulbs above him sparking wildly in his wake before shorting out, exploding into tiny bits of glass that rain over the floor.

Lloyd darts past them, hurrying his footsteps as he tries to escape the apartment with the rest of the lights unscathed. Shoving open the stairwell door, Lloyd makes a break for the rooftop, where he at least knows it’ll be quiet, and there won’t be as many lights for him to burst, and his uncle can’t—

Lloyd pushes the rooftop door open and stumbles out with a heaving gasp, drawing air in desperately as if that’ll ground him. His heart is racing way too fast, way too angry, and his power is zinging all over his skin like a swarm of angry bees. He’s almost dizzy with how angry he is — except that’s not right, he’s not just angry, there’s a whole wave of emotion coming in from somewhere that’s threatening to — to drown him, and this is why Lloyd should always keep things bottled back where they belong—

A transformer across the street blows, and Lloyd jumps in alarm as it explodes, showering sparks down toward the street below. Lloyd blinks past the blurring tears, his stomach dropping. There’s a flickering of lights before the apartment complex below it goes dark, power lost as startled cries sound from the open windows. The power lines around him start thrumming dangerously, reaching a higher-pitched whine that prefaces bursting. Lloyd’s throat closes over in panic. Oh, no. He didn’t think — he can't be this bad. He doesn’t lose control like this, he — he needs to stop, right now, or the entire city’s going to lose power.

He clenches his fists again, trying to reign the power in, to pull it back to him, but it only sputters more wildly out of control. Lloyd’s hands are trembling now, shaking worse than before, and in a desperate attempt for it to stop he crumples to the rooftop, pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, burying his head in the crook of his flesh elbow and squeezing tight, metal digging painfully into his leg as he draws in tighter and tighter — like he can crush himself down into something small enough that he won’t feel so much anymore, and his power will stop, stop—

But it’s like he’s back in the prison, his power sparking wildly out of control and not listening to him. Just like her. Like his father, like his uncle, nothing he’s gotten from his family ever listens to him when it matters, and why should they. Why will they ever, when all Lloyd’s ever going to be is a weapon, a scribbled line in a prophecy or a stepping stone for power—

It’s his power. His power, and he can’t even get it to listen to him.

Lloyd listens to the power lines around him explode and lets his sweatshirt sleeve soak up the tears.

Lying to himself can only get him so far. He’s never going to be able to prove he’s ready to face his father.

Not when he doesn’t even know if he can.

[wolfflock]

Please, Keep Love Hole (final chapter)

Read all 21 chapters over at AO3 (explicit, 42k).

Chapter Summary: S-E-X. With feelings. And teeth.

They have been officially dating for months when Derek tells Stiles that they need to talk. At first Stiles is nervous about it (damn all those romcoms where this sentence always means something bad) but then he gets over it. They are doing great and Derek isn’t like that anyway, he would tell him straight to his face if something was wrong.

The only thing that isn’t so great for Stiles is that it’s been long goddamn months and they still haven’t had sex. Sure, they have watched each other jerk off a couple of times and they have been dry humping each other like teenagers, but Derek always stopped him when he wanted to go further, when he wanted to take Derek’s clothes off. Stiles is in no rush, though, so he didn’t make a big deal out of it, but he’s getting frustrated with constantly having blue balls and having to take long showers after being over at Derek’s. Scott is giving him knowing looks.

So Stiles is a bit worried about what this talk will be about, but he is keeping an open mind.

When he arrives to Derek’s apartment, the place smells great. Derek’s been cooking which, okay, he didn’t expect. Maybe the romcom drama is not going to happen.

“Something smells great,” Stiles whistles as he walks up to the stove where Derek, in an apron with puppies all over, is putting food on two plates.

“I made lasagna, I hope you like it,” Derek replies as he turns his head so Stiles can kiss his cheeks.

“You kidding? I love it,” he says and sniffs the delicious food, followed by an appreciative sigh. “So what is it that you wanted to talk about?” Stiles has always been very patient.

“After dinner, okay? Let’s eat just now,” Derek looks up at him, a shy smile on his face.

Stiles digs in and starts talking about the latest YouTube videos he saw and forgets about the talk.

When they finish eating, they clean up and then head to the living room to get comfortable on the couch. Stiles really doesn’t want to push it but he’s getting restless and Derek can probably sense this because he takes a deep breath and begins.

“You probably have been wondering why I always stop you when you want to undress me.”

And yes, that is an understatement. Stiles, at the first few times this happened, was obsessing over this, trying to figure out if Derek didn’t like him, or didn’t want him, or didn’t trust him. But Derek was always down to kiss and touch through clothes so Stiles thought he might have been just shy or self-conscious.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first time?” Derek asks, and Stiles needs to think about that for a while.

Derek helps him out and starts explaining that when he was 16, he fell for someone older. Stiles can remember this much, but what Derek tells him next is a shock to his system.

In a quiet voice, Derek tells him that the woman tied him up, gagged him, spanked him, fucking cut him with a knife and then left him there for two days. Then he talks about the long weeks he was bedridden because of healing injuries, but more importantly the emotional trauma he suffered, with the added baggage of all this happening in Derek’s teen years when he was still trying to figure out who he was, which high school gossip really fucking didn’t help. Stiles’ stomach is turning, he’s seeing red and getting angry with every quiet word leaving Derek’s lips.

But when Derek stands and takes his shirt off, it’s like a bucket of ice being dumped on him. He can see the cuts still, so many years later. They weren’t deep, Derek explains in a clinically cold voice, so they healed alright, but they stand out pale against Derek’s tanned skin. Almost a dozen long lines from his chest to his hips and arms, all different in length and shape.

Stiles lets out a shaky breath and unconsciously reaches out to touch but his hand freezes midair as he looks up at Derek.

“Can I?” he asks.

Derek moves closer, within reach. Stiles shuffles to the edge of the couch so Derek can stand between his legs and puts his hands on Derek’s hips, not touching his skin. When Derek buries his hands in Stiles’ hair and nods, Stiles begins to trail his fingertips over the white lines. Derek tenses, but with a rattling breath he relaxes and lets Stiles explore.

He traces each and every cut with his fingers, trying to change the memory of pain to a memory of gentleness. When he’s touched all of them, he leans in and places the smallest of kisses against the one that goes from Derek’s right hipbone towards his groin. Then he slowly rises to his feet. Holding Derek’s chin in his hand, he looks him in the eye and whispers thank you to let Derek know how much he appreciates this. Him, his honesty, his straightforwardness, his trust.

With the force of a storm, Derek leans forward and kisses Stiles with everything he’s got. Stiles tries to follow him but the intensity with which Derek tries to convey his emotions knocks the wind out of him and he can’t do much more than allow Derek to kiss him however he wants to, he just responds in earnest.

After minutes, both panting, Stiles breaks the kiss and looks Derek in the eye.

“Is it okay?” He needs to make sure that Derek doesn’t feel pressured.

Derek nods, and pushes him backwards until his legs hit the couch and he has to sit down. Derek is on his knees in no time and is already working on Stiles’ zipper when Stiles catches his hands.

“Hey, Derek, slow down. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you,” he says, and caresses Derek’s cheek.

“I know,” Derek replies, placing a kiss on Stiles’ palm. “I know,” he repeats, trying to center himself, let him believe what he’s saying.

Stiles cups Derek’s face and with a murmured “Come here” he pulls him up to kiss him again. This time it’s slower, sweet and perfect. There’s no rush to it, just heat and want. Derek shudders when Stiles flicks his fingers over his nipples, but Stiles just smirks against his lips and does it again.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes deeply and plants a wet kiss on Stiles’ neck.

This gives enough time for Stiles to rearrange them; Derek’s head is resting against the cushions by the armrest, his legs splayed open so Stiles can kneel between them. He looks down at Derek’s beautiful naked torso and pulls his shirt before leaning forward to steal another kiss. Their hands are roaming the other’s body, mapping muscles, scars, birthmarks, trying to memorize as much as they can.

“Let me take care of you first,” Stiles whispers in Derek’s ear which earns him a deep moan and a hurried “Yeah, okay.”

Stiles can’t help himself and steals another quick kiss before he trails down Derek’s body, stopping at his nipples to give them some attention as Derek seems to enjoy it. Sure enough, Derek’s hand grabs a handful of Stiles’ hair and his fingers flex reflexively. As much as he would love to spend a whole night kissing and playing with Derek’s nipples, he continues his way down to Derek’s thighs. The runs his hands up and down Derek’s muscular legs, scraping his fingernails across the fabric of his jeans, which puts a teasing line of pressure going from his knees up to his hips and Derek chuckles a bit as it tickles him.

Placing another kiss on the scar by Derek’s hip, Stiles unbuttons his jeans and when Derek lifts his hips, he pulls them down as much as he can. He quickly pulls those and his own jeans off, leaving them in nothing but underwear, both of them showing obvious signs of their interest in the proceedings. Derek sits up and pulls him in close to kiss him, and then he’s leading the way to his bedroom. Stiles can’t help but stare at Derek’s gorgeous body; his toned back, round ass and strong legs. He can’t wait to feel those wrapped around him as he has Derek under him.

When they reach the room, Derek gracefully sits back by the headboard and waves his hand in the direction of his open, bent legs, obscenely presenting himself.

“As you were,” he says cheekily, and Stiles is on him in a second, his hands touching everywhere and his lips whatever snarky comment Derek wanted to add.

When the kiss ends, he looks at Derek, aiming for a deadpan expression but probably looking more excited and eager than anything else. “Lube?”

Derek twists around to reach for the nightstand which Stiles takes advantage of and pushes Derek down on the bed so he’s lying on his front and Stiles has his extremely shapely ass inches from his face. Derek just laughs but lets him do it, pulling a pillow under his head and trying to look over his shoulder as much as he can. He drops a bottle and a condom on the bed.

Stiles, whether with girls or guys, has always loved eating ass. Acquired taste or not, it has always been the perfect mix of shouldn’t like it and love it anyway. He kisses all over Derek’s lower back and thighs, placing biting kisses wherever he reaches, which has Derek growl slightly, clearly frustrated about the teasing.

“Is this okay?” Stiles asks, after he bites Derek’s ass cheek hard.

“Hhhnnng---yesss,” Derek hisses as he instinctively arches his back to silently as for more.

Stiles just smiles and places both of his hands on Derek. His gentle kisses turn hungrier with teeth and more saliva the closer he gets to Derek’s hole. Without hesitation or teasing, he places his mouth around it and kisses it, alternating between long licks, kisses, sucking and kitten licks. Derek is growing louder by the minute, his hands fisting the pillow, biting the corner as his eyes close from pleasure.

As much as Stiles enjoys this, his need has been increasing with every moan and sigh Derek made. He’s dreamt about this, in vivid details, how he would take Derek apart with his mouth on his cock, his ass, his nipples. But this has to wait because Stiles wants to make this last. With a heavy sigh, he reaches out for the forgotten bottle of lube and pours some of it on his fingers, warming it before reaching towards Derek.

“Still okay?” he asks, but Derek’s relaxed expression and curt nod comes before he could even finish those two words.

He gently rubs his finger around Derek’s rim and when Derek sighs, he pushes in. The sigh turns into a moan and that spurs Stiles on to continue his movement without pausing. He starts a gentle but steady rhythm and as soon as he can, adds a second finger. Derek only wiggles around the get a better position, adjusting so with Stiles’ pushes, his dick is gently nudged against the bed.

It doesn’t take long for Derek to relax and sigh with every touch, non-verbal voices leaving his lips in an endless stream. Stiles then bites his ass one more time, slaps him gently before reaching for the condom and putting it on with shaking hands. He smears some more lube on his shaft before putting his hands on the bed by Derek’s hips. He leans down to kiss and bite Derek’s shoulder as he grabs his cock to guide it into Derek’s waiting body.

Pushing in only a few inches, he stops to steady himself, Derek’s heat and tightness overwhelming him suddenly. He hangs his head, forehead touching Derek’s shoulder, as he takes a few deep breaths. Derek, though, is impatient, and shifts so he can take over, arching his back so he can move his hips and slowly inch his way back down on Stiles’ cock. It’s an intoxicating sight, his ass greedily sinking down on his erection.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, Derek,” he whispers, then groans when Derek clamps down on him. “Show off,” he chuckles, but leans down to awkwardly kiss Derek in his twisted position.

As retaliation, Stiles sneaks a hand around Derek’s throat to keep him in place and finally starts moving. Derek chokes on a chuckle and his mouth falls open as Stiles slides out and then back in. Stiles keeps a steady and slow pace, trying to draw the teasing out before he knows he lose his patients and picks up speed.

“Stiles, come on, don’t tease, just give it to me,” Derek keens, his fingers whitening in the sheets as he’s trying to hold himself up to kiss Stiles.

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles groans and falls forward, still holding Derek’s throat gently, as his other hand comes to rest on Derek’s legs to pull them up until Derek’s ass is higher up and the angle is just right, judging by the choked off groan escaping Derek’s lips.

And Stiles gives it to Derek, his pace becoming faster and faster, the only sound in the room is skin on skin and their curses and moans. Stiles bites Derek’s ear and Derek shouts his name, surprised and turned on even more.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined this, what it would be like to fuck you,” Stiles whispers in Derek’s ear. “Seeing you in those tight jeans outlining your ass… why do you think I was sitting in the first row every time? Fuck, I wanted to bend you over your meticulously organized desk and fuck you until you made a mess all over it.” Stiles is hand tightens for a second around Derek’s neck and that has Derek wheezing for all deities to help him because he’s falling apart.

“Touch yourself,” Stiles instructs, and Derek scrambles to reach down between his legs to cup his straining erection, ignored for so long and so desperate for attention.

“Yes, fuck, Stiles, please,” Derek whines and starts stroking himself in earnest.

“I want you to come first so I can feel your orgasm while I’m still inside you,” Stiles grunts and places a kiss on Derek’s neck.

Derek’s breath hitches, his body goes rigid and he’s coming over his hands, ass clenching down on Stiles, tightening even more. That throws Stiles’ rhythm, his hips staggering a few more times and then he’s coming, biting on Derek’s shoulder gently, and then letting go of him.

He pulls his hand away from Derek’s neck, petting his hair in apology as he’s sure there will be red fingerprints for a few hours. As Derek goes lax underneath him, he relaxes, and his heavy limbs refuse to hold him up any longer.

He falls on Derek’s back with an oomph, and for a minute or two they just try to get their heartbeats back to normal. Then he pulls out, kneading Derek’s ass before leaning down to place a kiss on one ass cheek. He goes to Derek’s bathroom to discard of the condom, clean up and get a wet towel.

When he walks back, Derek is lying on his back, his forearm over his face. His cheeks are flushed, he’s covered in sweat and his neck is red in what seems to be in the distinctive shape of a palm. He looks beautiful.

Stiles climbs up next to him, pulls his arm away so he can kiss him. Gently, with emotion, as they are both sated now, so this kiss is just a reminder that they have each other. He cleans Derek off, then, and after throwing the towel on the floor, he cuddles Derek.

After a lazy shower together, they curl up in bed and fall asleep in no time.

---

The next morning, there are two things out of the usual, when Stiles wakes up. One, it’s bright, like, really bright. Did he leave the lights on last night?

No, he’s not in his dorm.

Right. The talk with Derek.

And oddly enough, being in Derek’s bed is not the second unusual thing.

That has to be Derek between his legs, his face really close to Stiles’ morning wood, giving it a kitten lick.

“Morning,” Derek declares, with a playful look on his face.

“Apparently,” Stiles blushes, but he can’t look away.

“Can I?” He asks, almost unsure.

And if he wasn’t already hard, Stiles’ dick would have jumped at that hungry voice coming out of such red lips so freaking close to a hard cock.

“Fuck, yes,” is all Stiles can muster. He props himself up on pillows so his head is lifted, and he can watch Derek scoot closer to kiss and lick.

Wrapping his hand around Stiles’ cock, he places open mouthed kisses all over, like he’s appreciating some rare art form.

“You have a really nice dick,” Derek says, looking at it, turning his head this and that way. Having his mouth on his dick didn’t but this definitely makes Stiles blush. “I’m a bit sad that I didn’t get to play with it first before I had it in me,” he muses, and Stiles groans and curses.

“Can you come from words alone?” He laughs awkwardly, when Derek looks at him. “Because I might if you keep up the worshiping.”

“Guess we have to see that later. For science,” Derek smirks and goes back to kissing Stiles’ cock.

After peppering it with kisses, he switches to licking it, with long swipes of his tongue, up and down. Stiles, being the college student he is, is not used to languid blowjobs that last more than 5 minutes and are done in dark corners, so he is having a hard time keeping his hands from just grabbing Derek’s head and pulling him down on his dick. So, he flexes his fingers a few times by his side and grabs the sheets to hold on.

Derek must see his frustration, though, because he puts his lips around the head and slowly, but without stopping, takes him as deep as he can. That is when Stiles needs to reach out for purchase, though, so he grabs a handful of Derek’s hair as he moves to pull up.

This jostles his head enough to accidentally scrape Derek’s teeth on the underside of Stiles’ dick who moans out loud with a deep “Fuck, yes, do that again.” Derek looks up at him, but Stiles’ eyes are closed, and his mouth is open as he is panting loudly.

So, Derek does it again, cautiously at first, just pushing his lower teeth against the underside of Stiles’ shaft but Stiles just groans, and his hands tighten in Derek’s hair. Confident that Stiles is actually enjoying this, Derek bobs up and down a few times before, out of nowhere, he pulls off to bite the side of Stiles’ cock hard.

Stiles lets out a garbled mess of noises and syllables as his head jacks up and the look he gives Derek is hungry and on fire. Derek goes back to sucking him off in earnest now, moving fast and sucking hard. Stiles is getting closer, his muscles tightening so Derek quickly pulls off, bites him one more time and takes him down his throat. Stiles holds his head as he fucks into his mouth once, twice and he’s coming down Derek’s throat with a loud “fuck”. Derek swallows everything and when he lets Stiles’ cock slip from his mouth, he just nuzzles in, face resting against Stiles’ hip.

Panting hard, trying to catch his breath, Stiles plays with Derek’s hair, and then he’s laughing.

“You know, for a long time I didn’t understand what the big deal about blowjobs was,” he explains and Derek just hums, so he continuous. “Like, the ones I got were fine, but nothing amazing. But guess what. I like it on the rough side, with biting and teeth. And I needed to go to a damn glory hole in a gay bar a few towns over to find it out! My friends dragged me there, no, they actually dared me, and I was kind of wasted but, you know, not that drunk that I couldn’t get it up. Anyway, the dude there was good, Jesus, like not as good as you, because hot damn. But anyway, I was so awkward I gave him a thumbs up through the hole and ---- Derek?”

Derek’s face is flushed now, way more than it was when he had Stiles down his throat. He has a sheepish smile on his lips as he thumps his head against Stiles’ stomach, which ouch.

“I…” Derek clears his throat. “I remember you,” he mumbles against Stiles’ skin and Stiles is just staring at him. Then he connects the dots.

And then he’s laughing, which makes Derek’s head rise and fall on his stomach, so he looks up, into Stiles’ tear-filled eyes as he’s laughing with his whole body.

“Professor Hale in a glory hole? I would have never seen that coming,” he wheezes as he’s gulping for air between hiccuping giggles.

“Shut up. I didn’t always cope with emotions in the healthiest ways. Cheap sex was one of them, you know that,” Derek says quietly, looking away, but Stiles can’t let this turn sour, so he reaches out to run his thumb along Derek’s cheekbones.

“Danny also said the glory hole guy haven’t been there for a while, the timing of which is suspiciously close to when we started seeing each other,” Stiles whispers and pulls Derek up for a kiss. “And that is all I need,” he confesses and looks Derek in the eyes. “I love you, Derek, as you are.”

There’s a moment’s silence as Derek’s mouth turns downward, his lips pouting, and Stiles can see his eyes filling up with tears as Derek launches himself at Stiles, hiding his face in his neck.

“I love you so much, Stiles. I was so afraid this could come between us and I didn’t know how to tell you this.”

“Well, I guess, this was one way for it to come out,” Stiles chuckles and kisses Derek. Their naked bodies curling around each other, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, they enjoy their lazy morning in.

[sweetmemories2606]

Be My Forever (MesCana Day)

Hey everyone! Here I bring you my second MesCana fic because today is officially their day! :)) 

I am dedicating it to the lovely Daphne (@tobethefairybest​), who created this amazing ship. 

While I know it is a rather unthought of pairing which most people are unfamiliar with, I hope that by reading this story and its sequel, Forget, you might fall in love with Mest and Cana's relationship just as I did. 

Here's the info: 

Title: Be My Forever

Summary: Mest was falling in love, but there was too much holding him back from telling her. It had only been a year since he had completed his mission and they were still adjusting to being in each other's life again. The timing wasn't right, but would it ever be? 

Timeline: Avatar/Alvarez Arcs

Warnings: This is pretty angsty and there is a funeral scene which might be too much. 

Happy reading! 

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

                              October X792

"Are you sure you're ready?" Cana asked, surprised and honestly a little worried. "I am," Mest replied, glancing at the letter in his hands. "It's time I tell everyone the truth." "I wonder how they will take it." She wondered, frowning. He lowered his head, a wistful look upon his face. "I hope they'll forgive me." "They'll understand," Cana reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, but tried not to let it show, putting on a smile instead. "Thank you. Having you by my side gives me the courage to finally come clean." She watched him for a moment, searching, also settling for a smile. "I'm glad. You know I'm always here for you."

                            ---------------------                              Nearly a year ago "I'm so sorry," Cana said, taking his hand. They were at the cemetery in ERA, where the Magic Council used to reside before they had all been murdered. After such a tragic event, the townspeople had organised a funeral which was taking place. Mest had returned to bury Lahar, who had been his closest friend and the person who had helped him get through the 7 years when Fairy Tail was gone. Mest hadn't yet fully comprehended that his friend was gone, but the memory of holding Lahar's body and begging him to wake was etched on his mind. Feeling Cana squeeze his hand, he tightened his grip. "Thank you," Glancing at her, he tried to convey how much he appreciated her coming with him. "For being here." She offered a sorrowful smile. "Of course." They had to silence once the ceremony began. It was long, exhausting and heartbreaking. Many people gave speeches about the deceased council members. Some expressed despair and sorrow, others anger and a few hope for a better future. Mest tried to encompass all these emotions. Being the only survivor, he spoke about the sacrifices that had been made, his anger at being unable to stop Jackal and how he hoped these deaths wouldn't be in vain. Once the funeral was over and most people had left, he decided to take a moment to say goodbye to Lahar. Cana gave him some space, but he could feel her presence nearby. It comforted him, knowing that even though he had lost so much, she was still there. Mest returned to her side after burying Lahar's broken glasses close to the grave. Somehow, once his eyes met hers, he burst into tears, falling to his knees. She held him against her chest and rubbed circles against his back, letting him cry all he needed. Between sobs, he thanked her and she gave one simple response. "You don't have to thank me. I'm always here for you."

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

The memory nearly brought tears to his eyes, but Mest composed himself. "Thank you." There was silence; awkward and uncomfortable. Cana quickly removed her hand, returning it to her side. He wasn't sure what this meant, but tried not to think about it. About to tell her they should start packing, but then she asked.  "Are you going to tell them everything?" "I have to," Mest replied, determined. "They need to know how serious the situation is." Cana nodded before letting out a sigh, concerned again. "And have you really not heard anything from Master?" He shook his head. "No. I'm honestly scared he's..." He couldn't finish the thought. "No," Cana denied it immediately. "I know he's still alive." He sighed deeply. "Let's hope so." Glancing at the letter again, he told her. "We should start packing if we want to make it to Magnolia in time." "Okay," She offered another small smile. "Should we leave for the station in 2 hours?" Mest nodded in agreement. "That's fine with me." Watching her turn around and walk back towards her bedroom, he sighed again. It was hard being so close to her without telling her how he felt, but he knew it was best. It had only been a year since he had completed his mission and they were still adjusting to being in each other's life again.

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

                               One year ago “Mest Gryder, your mission is complete.” He stared at Makarov in utter shock. Then his eyes caught the Fairy Tail mark which suddenly appeared on his shoulder. "What the hell is this?" He started freaking out. "Start talking!" Makarov explained things calmly. How Mest had always had this emblem because he had been a member of Fairy Tail. How his devotion to the guild had been so great that he'd been willing to erase his own memories and identity.   Mest didn't want to believe it at first, but suddenly the pieces started to come in. Flashback by flashback, he began to remember his life and the mission he had risked so much for. Makarov watched him quietly, a sympathetic look upon his face, letting the young man figure things out himself. Then his eyes wandered to someone behind Mest, making the latter turn around. She was standing closeby, eyes widened, clearly shocked. There was no doubt she had heard what they had said and for a moment Mest worried about what she would do. Then he remembered. His own eyes widened once memories of all the moments they had shared returned full force. They had been childhood friends just like Gray, Erza and Natsu. Always so close and always there for each other. Until Mest had left for his mission, breaking her heart. Recalling the moment he had left her, his own heart ached. "Cana...." She sniffled, seemingly fighting against tears. "Mest?" Makarov glanced between them with sadness. "I can only imagine how much you two must've missed each other. I'm sorry it had to be like this." "I..." Cana struggled with words. "You...We were..." "You remember?" Mest asked and she nodded, tears streaming down her face. He couldn't stop himself from crying too. It was finally over. At last he was home again with her.

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

Unfortunately, home had ceased to exist that same night. Fairy Tail was disbanded and Mest knew why, but still hated that he couldn't be reunited with his friends after so long. Each took a different path, some never to be seen again until a year later. Mest was completely lost at what to do, but Cana helped him. She let him stay at her apartment for a while and invited him to come along on her search for her father. They spent months travelling together, taking on jobs like they used to and getting to know each other. He told her everything about his life in the Council and during the seven years they were apart. She told him about reconnecting with her father before he had disappeared again. During that time, feelings developed. Mest wasn't sure exactly why, but he started seeing her in a different light. When they would joke about never being able to get rid of the other, he'd note that the mere thought of being apart from her again was heartbreaking. When she'd flirt with other men or reminisce about her brief fling with Bacchus from the Quatro Cerberus Guild, Mest would feel jealous. It had never happened before, but now it was too frequent to ignore. He reflected about their relationship and wondered if perhaps it could become something else. It was strange, having romantic thoughts about Cana. Even though he was aware that sometimes close friendships like theirs could be the foundation of a long-lasting romance, Mest had never considered it before. In fact, he had barely even considered romance before. During his time at Fairy Tail their friendship had been more than enough and while he was working for the Council, his job had taken sole focus. Only during those seven years had he considered a relationship after much persuasion from Lahar, but Mest had been so broken then. He still was. There were too many wounds that needed to be healed and traumas which held him back. He still needed to fully move on from the horrible events of the war against Tartaros and Lahar's death. Furthermore, there was also the fact he had no idea whether Cana felt the same. She never gave clear signals that her feelings had changed which could be frustrating at times. For the sake of their friendship, Mest decided not to tell her that he was falling in love. A decision which at times could be very hard to keep.

                            ---------------------                                 3 months ago "What do you think?" Cana glanced at him, curious. "It's a nice apartment." Mest took another look around the living room, which was decently sized. There was a red couch with a rectangular table in front, two orange chairs and a fireplace. "Quite cozy." "I agree." She nodded, smiling brightly. "I think it's the perfect place for us to settle for now." "And are you sure that you want to settle?" He questioned. Cana frowned for a moment and he guessed she was wondering if this was the right choice. It had been a few weeks since she had suggested that they search for a place to stay in Oak Town, which was closest from their latest camping site. "I don't know…" She bit her lip. "I want to keep searching for my father, but it's clear he doesn't want to be found." "Maybe it's best to wait until he contacts you," Mest suggested. She looked down sadly. "You mean 'if' he contacts me." Sensing her distress, he closed the distance between them, bringing her in for a tight hug. "He will. You just have give him more time." She sighed, letting her head rest against his chest. It felt so right to hold her like this. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering or his feelings from surfacing. "You always know what to say, don't you?" Cana looked up, eyes shiny with unshed tears. "That's not true," Mest disagreed, feeling his heartbeat speeding up once her hand gently touched his cheek. "It is." She smiled, but the tears started falling. "I'm so glad you're here with me." He was tempted to wipe them away, but restrained himself. "I'm happy to be here." Her arms tightened around his torso before her head returned to his chest. He felt his shirt becoming damp as she continued to cry. Mest held her close, letting her be, while attempting to calm his racing hard and suppress his emotions. A few minutes later, she pulled away, removing herself from his embrace and taking a step back. While wiping the remaining tears, she gave him a grateful look. "Thank you. For everything." He offered a genuine smile. "Of course." At that moment, he wanted to tell her the truth so badly. Then he remembered why he shouldn't. Instead, Mest decided to say something which was also true, but did not reveal his growing feelings. "I'm always here for you."

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

"Mest? Why are you still standing there?" Cana's voice broke him out of his thoughts. She stood by her bedroom door, staring at him in concern. Mest realised that he remained by the red couch. Putting Lucy's letter into his pocket, he apologised. "Sorry. I was just lost in thought." Cana watched him for a moment. "Are you okay?" He put on another tense, fake smile. "Yeah. I'm fine." Her expression conveyed disbelief. "Are you sure? Because if you want to talk..." "No." Mest disagreed a little too strongly. "I have to start packing." He left before she could press him any further and walked back to his room, knowing that if he had stayed the truth might slip out. It wasn't the right time. Or at least, that's what he told himself. It was his mantra and he held onto it every time he came close to telling her. Would it ever be, he wondered? Would he ever be ready to cross this line? Mest wasn't sure, but there was so much going on at the moment. The meeting with Fairy Tail, the situation with Makarov, the shaky alliance between Fiore and Alvarez which might soon break and lead to an devastating war. He shouldn't focus on his feelings when there was so much at stake and neither could he risk ruining their friendship when he needed her most. That was why, contrary to what he wanted, Mest decided to keep pretending for just a little longer.