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candyfloss-esophagus · 11 months

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CRYING WOLF FOR ASK GAME!!!! GIMME ALL THE INFORMATION!!!!

Okay I'm just gonna spam you with asks here so feel free to ignore them if it's too much <3

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (don't think I've forgotten about the post you made mentioning an alternate ending! 👀👀👀) 10, 11, 13, 14 and 15

Hope this isn't too much! (like I said feel free to ignore these if that's the case!)

I remember you mentioned something about making a lore post about stuff that didn't get put in the fic and maybe you could combine them? If you still feel like making it that is <3 (seriously I still love that fic so much!!!!)

Alright buckle up boys this is gonna get LONG. @voidpants since you sent me an ask with a couple of these in, I'll combine them here <3

This probably goes without saying but there are extreme spoilers for crying wolf below the cut

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way? My recent obsession with vivisection, dissection and cannibalism <33 I know I'm very good at falling into stereotypes and I'm your local transmasc butch unhealthily obsessed with cannibalism <33333

The noirpunk server did, in all honesty. I don't know what I'd do without you guys.

2: What scene did you first put down? The very first scene! I write generally chronologically, unless there's something I'm raring to get down!

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? He pulls back, unable to staunch the hysterical giggles building in his chest, and they tumble free like the intestines of a mutilated fox at the side of a road -- all bloody ropes thick with mucus.

I just like this comparison lol. A close second would be the line about Peter's organs being better to eat than the pigeon.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? “Oh, I know you’re on the square, doll. I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me.”

I really love this line because I love blatant foreshadowing. But also because in the previous line, Hobie really wasn't lying (as is shown later on).

5: What part was hardest to write? The scene directly before the first cannibalism scene. I'm never too sure how to draw it out and build the tension in the proper way and I'm not entirely too sure I managed it.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics? It's absolutely dripping with paranoia, a lot of what is drawn from my own paranoia (where are my insane babes at ik we're around here somewhere). And also it's one of my most violent fics. Didn't tend to write it before now but I'm really enjoying messing around with it now!

7: Where did the title come from? I was brainstorming with myself after I told the people in the discord that I would try to write something approximating what we'd cooked up together and it took a while (probably about half an hour) before I hit on the story of the boy who cried wolf.

In this context, the boy crying wolf is Peter, whose spider senses are so fucked up that he tends to ignore them when he implicitly trusts people -- which means that when that person isn't in their right state of mind, he dismisses any notion that there might be something wrong.

Simultaneously, the crying wolf is Hobie, who is by far the more dangerous one of them, having been possessed by an actual murderous cannibalistic alien, but who is in much more denial about it. (Literally in the scene where he kills and eats Peter, he refuses to accept what's happened, whereas Peter just told him that it was going to be okay. Both of them are Fucked Up okay.)

Anyway this was a long-winded way of saying that it came from a children's story lol

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it? Yeah!!! In the early days of the noirpunk discord server, we were chucking around the vague idea of symbiote Hobie, throwing out a few vignette scenes and pieces of dialogue, and it was so compelling to me that I said I'd take a crack at it, so here we are! Thanks guys!

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic? AHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHA

Yes. I have an alternate ending kicking around in my head at the moment that I'll probably start with once I'm finished with whumptober and another couple of things I've promised people I'll do </3 the adhd is real you guys

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story? UM?? BECAUSE NOIRPUNK????????

Because this idea was thought up in the noirpunk server with noirpunk in mind and it would have been a disservice to write this pairing as anything other than noirpunk. And also I wanted to give Peter more cannibalism trauma. And at the moment noirpunk is the only thing keeping me sane (which I mean in a very real and worrying way. We ball.)

11: What do you like best about this fic? I got to write cannibalism under the guise of love :>

Also very proud that I came up with the acronym for the D.O.R.M.A.N.T symbiotes

12: What do you like least about this fic? Um. Am I allowed to say my writing. If not, then I know there are plotholes and pieces of lore about the worlds and the symbiotes that don't make sense. Consider: I wanted to write cannibalism.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading? I listened to a lot of Tunng, Troy Kingi and Arab Strap!!

Mostly from Tunng I was listening to a lot of their album Dead Club and out of those were my favourites of Eating the Dead, Man and also Woman (the last two of which are spoken word poems but I choose to treat them as music because they are <333)

Troy Kingi specifically Sleep (Slumber), First Take Strut, and No Reason to 2nd Guess M.G.

Arab Strap specifically The Turning of our Bones, Here Comes Comus! and The Fable of the Urban Fox.

Sleep (Slumber) was looped specifically for scenes where I needed them to be soft with each other. The Turning of our Bones was looped specifically for the cannibalism. Please watch the music video (don't if you're sensitive to gore) because it's actually one of my favourite things in the world.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic? HUNGER AS A METAPHOR FOR DEVOTION. or there might just be a parasite eating your brain lol

Just kidding. Hm. Sometimes we go through something in our lives that's horrific. And we're trying to process it and not getting anywhere because it's so huge that our brains can't wrap themselves around it. Most of the time, we start to convince ourselves that it's us at the core of the problem. Sometimes we are. But to peel back the layers and get to the actual center, there are almost always outside forces that influence us into certain behaviours/choices that we regret later. And that's part of being human!

I'm not saying that you have a parasite in your brain that's making you eat your romantically inclined partner. I'm saying that the love shown in crying wolf is a relatively equal balance of give and take. They try to be as their worlds have shown them that love is, they're unlearning some of the more detrimental things, they're learning and growing together. They take steps back from each other when they need to and try to navigate their situations as well as they can. Idk.

Forgiveness is probably one of the main themes here. Please be gentle with yourself. It's so so important that you are.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic? That I really enjoy writing cannibalism. And that I need to watch a hell of a lot of 30s nyc films and 70s london films because I STILL don't have their turns of phrases down and it's annoying me.

And to take the leap (haha itsv references). This fic was very overwhelming for me at first because I don't tend to write very fast-paced or violent stuff. But I really enjoy reading it and so I really wanted to write it! Even if it isn't that great, I had a blast writing it!

Thank you for sending this ask in!! It's been really good to look past the writing into the inner mechanics of what makes it tick! (And I promise that I'll have that lore post up sometime!! I have not forsaken you!)

Edit: just realised you skipped 12 in your request but in my defence I'm not wearing my glasses and sort of assumed you asked about everything whoops

#sorry about the lack of life on my writing fronts at the moment #life's thrown me a good few curveballs recently #i am but a small lad <3 #esophagus speaks #ask game #ask answered #fiepige #voidpants #crying wolf #hobie brown #peter benjamin parker #noirpunk #atsv #on writing #behind the scenes with esophagus

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dothwrites · 4 years

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15.19--freedom

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose/Nothing, don’t mean nothing if it ain’t free, no, no”--Janis Joplin

---

Freedom.

Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom.

It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree.

And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.

He still wakes up from nightmares with those words echoing in his head: You’re dead to me. He bolts upright, almost puking, because he can’t believe his past self, he can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth, to Cas, to Cas of all people--

He splashes water on his face and notices that his hand is shaking. His stomach churns in warning, but he doesn’t think he’s going to puke. However, he also doesn’t think he’s going back to sleep tonight.

He and Sam are in the bunker, but he knows they won’t stay. It’s too empty now, their voices echoing through the halls and rooms. Maybe once, he would have been all right with that, would have even enjoyed it, but now, he can’t bear it. He remembers all too well how it felt to have Jack’s voice bouncing through the kitchen as he talked about the latest movie they had watched, or how it felt to just feel Cas behind him as he moved through the kitchen.

Every time he makes his breakfast, he’s reminded of what he lost. Every time he and Sam come back to the bunker, there’s the sinking disappointment to find themselves alone once more. Dean ends up spending most of his days in his room because anywhere else freaks him out. He can’t stop whipping his head to look over his shoulder, halfway convinced that he’ll find someone standing behind him. He’s always disappointed when he finds himself alone.

He and Sam are going to leave the bunker behind. He doesn’t know when and he doesn’t know what for, but he knows that it’s going to happen.

He asks Sam one afternoon why he hasn’t left yet. Eileen is waiting for him, biding her time a hell of a lot more patiently than Dean would, and Sam still isn’t going to her and starting the American dream life. And one afternoon, Dean either runs out of fucks and gathers up his last little shreds of courage, and asks him.

“So when are you going to move in with Eileen? I can’t imagine that she’s going to wait for your gigantor ass forever.”

Sam looks at him from across the table. There’s a book open in front of him, but Dean doesn’t think that he’s read a word. He knows that he’s been stuck on the same screen on his phone for several minutes. Without the pressing urgency of saving the world, things just seem so...pointless. Which is not necessarily bad. But it means that he and Sam spend a lot of slow, lingering afternoons like this, with just the two of them wandering through the bunker and occasionally bouncing off of each other like two very faulty pinballs stuck in a malfunctioning machine.

“She’s fine,” Sam says, which isn’t an answer. “She understands what’s happening.”

Dean’s glad that someone understands because he surely has no fucking clue.

---

His life falls into a kind of routine. Wake up, make breakfast. Find pointless chores to do around the bunker. Make lunch. Watch some bullshit shows on TV. Make dinner. Have a beer. Fall asleep.

He feels like the worst kind of retiree, devoid of purpose.

Sure, there are occasional hunts, but he doesn’t feel the need to go on them. The world is turning, same as it always did, and there are other hunters in the world. If that’s one thing that he learned through these past years, it’s that he doesn’t have to do everything.

(Plus, he and Sam literally defeated God, so he thinks they deserve some time off.)

The forced retirement doesn’t make him happy. The bunker is the cleanest that it’s ever been and he doesn’t feel happy about it. There’s a gaping hole in his chest that’s shaped like the rest of his family, and he can’t sleep at night. He makes dinner and all he can think about are the empty places at the table.

Sam sticks his head into Dean’s room. It’s a regular day, though Dean doesn’t bother to note either the actual date or the day of the week anymore. Time blends together in an endless cycle of waking, chores, and sleeping, because without a purpose to hold him together, he’s slowly falling apart.

“I’m going to head out,” Sam says. Dean notices that he doesn’t put a timeline on his departure. “You should get out too.”

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn’t ask the obvious question: Where would he go? Sam, slightly chagrined, scuffs his feet against the floor. “Maybe go see Jody, Donna, and the girls? See if Charlie and Stevie want a third on their hunt? Bobby said something about building up his library here.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, with absolutely no intention of following through on any of those suggestions. He’s not quite wallowing in his own grief and filth (every time he tries to crawl back into a bottle, he just remembers the pinched look at the corners of Cas’ eyes whenever he would find Dean halfway through a bender, and that memory effectively nixes any desire he might have had to crawl into the nearest bottle), but he’s not exactly the poster boy for healthy coping strategies either.

“Dean.”

Dean hates that note in Sam’s voice, the oh-so-soft and sensitive tone that could soothe widows and lull children. He hates even more that it’s being turned on him, hates most of all that he derives comfort from it.

“I don’t get it,” Dean finally says, because if Sam is leaving then he might be losing his chance to ask his question aloud. “I don’t get...I mean, Jack could have brought him back. He could have done it. I could have asked him. I was right fucking there, and I didn’t ask.”

He’s dissected those moments in his head until there’s nothing left, and he’s forced to cobble them back together like some Frankenstein of memories just so he can take them apart all over again. Why didn’t he ask Jack to bring Cas back? Why didn’t Jack do it of his own free will? Jack knew how he much he needed Cas; hell, Jack brought him back once before when he wasn’t God. So why couldn’t he do it then, when Dean needed him the most?

“I don’t know,” Sam says, still in that same soft voice. “Maybe...maybe it was like Mom? I mean, Cas made his choice. For better or worse, he made it, and maybe Jack thinks that we need to respect it?”

A thick lump rises in his throat. Cas’ face replays in his nightmares, tear-stricken and yet smiling, peace and grief shining in his eyes. I love you. Like it was the easiest thing in the world to say at that moment. Like it was all he’d ever wanted to say.

“I never...” Dean swallows, but he doesn’t manage to chase away the horrid feeling rising in his chest. “I never said it back to him, Sam. I never...all those times he said it to us, and I never...he died, thinking that no one loved him. The one thing I want, I know I can’t have, is what he said to me.”

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a list of his regrets (there are too many to really list), but if he did, then he knows this would be at the top of it. Cas sacrificed himself, Cas let himself get taken, Cas died, and all to save someone who he believed didn’t love him back.

How could he not know?

Dean knows he’s not necessarily Mr. Subtle; he knows Sam knows. Their enemies damn sure have seemed to figure out through the years exactly where Dean’s heart lies. How could Cas, as brilliant as he was, as insightful, as compassionate as he was, not understand that Dean’s been lost on him, quite possible since the first time he walked through those barn doors?

Sam’s face goes on a journey and it ends up at about the same place that Dean feels. Maybe now Sam understands why it’s so much effort for him to just make it out of his room.

“He thought it was worth it,” Sam finally says. “Even if he thought...At the end, it was still worth it to him.”

You were still worth it, is left unsaid, but Dean hears the echo nonetheless. There’s an accusation there which he doesn’t want to confront, but he has to nonetheless.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” Sam finally says. “I can’t...” When he looks at Dean, his eyes are glistening. There’s a plea for understanding in his face. “There’s a whole world out there that I haven’t gotten to see since...since Stanford really. Since ever. I can finally go out there and walk around and not worry that something’s going to come after me. I can finally...” Sam rubs a corner of his shirt between his fingers. “You always said that I wanted a normal life, and I did, for a while. Then, when I figured that it was never going to happen, I stopped myself from wanting it, because what was the point? When everything we had got ripped away from us, what was the point of anything? But now...”

“If you start now, then you can probably make Des Moines by night,” Dean offers. It’s all he can say, but it’s enough.

Sam smiles, his eyes glassy. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it is. It’s the bonds of desperation and codependency snapping and shattering and reforming into something else. Dean doesn’t know how to love his brother in this new world. All he knows is that Sam deserves to live the life he’s deserved.

Dean closes his eyes.

When he opens them, Sam is gone.

---

That night, he goes up on the roof of the bunker. It’s cold, but not unbearable. There’s a light drizzle falling which strengthens to a gentle shower the longer he stays outside.

Dean closes his eyes and looks up at the sky. Out here, the stars shine clearer than ever before, visible even through the rainclouds.

He can’t help but think of Jack. His son. He can say those words now, acknowledge that Jack gave him everything he really wanted; the chance at a family, the chance to erase some of his father’s sins. Jack was gentle, he was kind, he was loving, he was theirs. And then he was gone.

Cas, Jack, Sam...

“What am I supposed to do?” Dean asks the rain, the same wild pain rising up in his throat. “What am I supposed to do now?”

---

He makes it back inside, damp and cold, and strips himself. He should shower, but he can’t be bothered, so he falls into bed naked and shivering. Not like it matters; no one is around to see him anyway. He falls into a fitful doze and is only awakened hours later by the soft sounds of someone moving around his room.

He bolts upright, snatching his gun out from underneath his pillow, because old habits die never. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes as his heartbeat catches up with his adrenaline. “Sam?” he asks, and then, more tentatively, “Jack?”

His desk lamp blazes into the life with a soft snap. Dean’s heart leaps into his throat.

Cas smiles at him, the same as always, sadness always lurking in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Dean finally understands why he looks that way.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. The sound of his voice sends shivers down Dean’s spine, but the hair on his arms doesn’t rise. Dean understands then.

“This is a dream.” He lowers the gun. His heart slows to normal and disappointment is bitter in his mouth. “You’re not really here.”

Cas’ mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “It’s as real as you make it.”

“Don’t fucking Dumbledore me,” Dean mutters. He rubs at his temples. Somehow, even lucid dreaming has lost its appeal. Talking to Cas isn’t appealing when he knows that he’s just talking to his own subconscious.

“I fail to see what a fictional wizard of questionable sexuality has to do with this.”

“Good to know that my subconscious has your sense of humor down.” Dean glares at Cas. “Why the fuck are you here, anyway? It’s a dick move, even for my brain.”

“Maybe because I’m the person you want to see? I don’t know. It’s your head, not mine.”

“Yeah. No offense, but I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. Or wake up. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I don’t need to see you anymore. It’s just...It really hurts, all right?”

“I’m not real, so you’re not really hurting my feelings.”

“Good. Well, now that we have that sorted out.” Dean punches his pillow as a punishment for betraying him, before he turns back to Cas. “I miss you,” he says, because he’s weak and always has been.

“Dean.” The sound of Cas’ voice always manages to make Dean stop and now is no different. He turns around and looks at Cas.

Somehow, Cas looks more solid around the edges. The lines around his eyes are more pronounced, and if Dean turns his head at just the right angle, he thinks he can see grey silvering at Cas’ temple.

“Sam was right,” Cas says. “I made a choice. That’s what this was all about, ever since the beginning. Making choices, running our own course, picking our own path.”

“Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in,” Dean mutters. The last thing he needs is his subconscious reminding him that once again, Cas decided that he wasn’t good enough to stay with.

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t make a choice as well,” Cas continues, ignoring him. “There’s nothing to stop you. You can make whatever choices you want and take the consequences that come with them. And if you make the right choices, then maybe...” Cas bites his lip, looking almost nervous. “Then maybe I can make some choices too.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue--Cas is dead, the time for making decisions has come and gone--but his subconscious is a dick, and before he can say anything, his dream fades away in a wash of black.

---

Dean wakes up energized. His eyes open into the same room, but it’s different somehow. It’s ridiculous, because the bunker is underground, but it’s almost like he sees the sun shining through his windows. Even the air tastes different. For the first time in weeks, he gets out of bed without dreading every step away from his mattress.

He glances at his phone. There’s a message from Sam along with a picture. In it, Eileen and Sam smile at the camera, their heads pressed together at the temple. There’s still a shadow of sadness in their eyes--they’ve all lost too much to be truly carefree ever again--but they look good. Happy. Whole.

Cas’ words echo back at him, both from the dream and from those last, horrible, terrifying moments.

Everything you did, you did for love.

You can make a choice.

Dean starts towards the library.

---

It takes him three weeks of almost non-stop research to cobble together enough spells to make something that has the potential to work. This isn’t his strength; Sam is much more suited for this type of work, but he won’t bring Sam in on this. If this thing goes really damn badly, then it has the potential to wipe him off the face of the earth, goodbye Dean Winchester. If this thing does what he’s halfway expecting it to, which is nothing, then he’ll have gotten Sam’s hopes up for nothing. He’s not going to expose Sam to either danger or disappointment, not when Sam’s finally managed to get to some kind of happiness.

If everything goes well...

Dean won’t let himself think about that.

He spends two days smoothing out the kinks in the spell, double and triple checking his translations. He gathers his ingredients, and then spends another hour pacing around the library. His stomach is roiling, and his nerves are jittery. He can’t bear to stop, but he can’t bear to move forward.

The memory of Cas’ smile spurs him into action. Cas went to his death a willing martyr for a man who he believed didn’t love him back. He can’t let that stand. If anything else, Cas has to know.

The drive to Pontiac, Illinois takes him the better part of a day. The impala springs forward across the asphalt, almost like she’s eager to eat up the miles after her forced retirement. Dean pushes hard down on the gas pedal, urging her forward. One way or another, this is going to come to an end tonight.

It takes him a while to find the barn. The last time he was here, he wasn’t in his right mind, still reeling from the horrors of Hell and the confusion of finding himself alive. He’d been scared and angry, lost and so very alone. And then an angel had walked through the door and told him that good things happened, that he deserved to be saved. The last little bit might have been a line fed to Cas by a bunch of dickhead superiors, but the sentiment behind it had stayed long after those superiors were all dead.

They replaced the doors which Cas shattered and painted over the walls which Dean and Bobby covered with sigils, but if Dean looks carefully, he can see the shadows of them behind the new coat of whitewash. He touches them gently for a second, remembering Bobby and all of the years which led him back to this place. Then he pulls out his can of spray paint and proceeds to deface the barn all over again.

When he’s done, he sets up the ingredients on the table. The table is where it was all those years ago, facing the doors to the barn. He doesn’t quite believe that Cas is going to pull the same trick, storming through the doors in a shower of sparks, but he can always hope.

“God...Jack,” Dean corrects himself with a wry twist of his mouth, “I really hope this works. Cas, wherever you are, I really hope you have your ears on.”

Dean looks at his translations and begins to speak. He’s hoping that intention counts for something as his tongue stumbles over the unfamiliar words. His heart beats an uncertain pulse in his chest. This has to work. It has to work.

He puts every ounce of belief into his voice, every bit of the faith Cas once accused him of not having. I have faith, he thinks, putting force behind his voice, sending his words rocketing into the dimensions. I believe in us.

What’s real?

We are.

The last syllables roll over his tongue, followed immediately by a peal of thunder. The barn shivers, a ripple rolling through the air to settle over Dean’s skin. Electricity crackles in the air, filling him with potential.

“Castiel?” he calls to the darkness. “Cas?”

There’s no answer, but the spells and research had been unclear on whether or not there should be an answer. He would prefer knowing that Cas was listening, but in absence of certainty, he’ll have to have faith.

“Cas, I really hope you can hear me,” he says. The words bring back the memories of Purgatory and a time when he and Cas could barely look at each other. He pushes those memories away and concentrates on the truth he can feel in his heart, the same truth which has guided him through the years and all the way from Lebanon, Kansas to the small barn where it all began all those years ago.

“I know you made your choice. I know you were happy. But...it’s not the same without you. I’m not the same without you. I wake up and think about you, and you’re the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. Every moment, you’re there because you’re not there. I look at all the places you’re missing and I can’t help but think that everything would be better if you were there.”

Dean swallows. “I miss you,” he confesses to the night. “Cas, I miss you so much. And I want you to come back. Not because I need you or because there’s something to fight against, but just because I miss you and life is better when you’re around.” He thinks of what Sam told him before he went. “There’s a new world out there, and I can’t think of who I would rather explore it with than you, but in order to do that, you’ve got to make a choice, all right?”

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode out of his chest. “I want to share my life with you. I want to figure out this world together. I want to be able to look at you and hold you and experience everything with you. Cas, I want to tell you what I should have told you every single day for years. I’m sorry that I never told you while you were with me. And I’m sorry that the first time I say it, I’m not going to be looking at you, but it wouldn’t be our lives if something about this wasn’t shitty, right?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “I love you, Cas. Not because of what you can do or how useful you are. I love you because of who you are and how hard you try. And I want to say it to you, every single day, for years to come. I’ve made my choice, Cas. Now you just need to make yours.”

Silence overtakes the barn. The only sound is the faint whistling of the wind through the slats of the barn and the quick rasp of his breathing. There’s no flap of wings, no deep voice growling in his ears, no pop of electricity.

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispers, closing his eyes to try and stop the burning behind them. “Please.”

Thunder rolls through the barn, shaking through the wood down to the dirt floor. Dean’s head jerks upright as he scans the barn. “Cas?” he calls, hardly daring to hope. “Castiel?”

A thin, golden thread rips open in the air before him. It looks almost exactly like the rifts between worlds which Jack used to create, but that’s not possible.

It’s not possible, but Dean dares to hope anyway.

“Castiel? Cas?”

A single hand reaches out through the golden tear, and then Dean is moving, he’s practically tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the rift. “Cas, Cas, please,” he’s saying, not quite aware of the words which are tumbling from his mouth. “Please.”

Until his fingers grip the hand, he’s not sure that it’s real, but that’s solid flesh and bone underneath his palm. Dean pulls, feeling resistance on the other end. “No,” he grunts, reaching into the rift. His hand touches skin, and his resolve grows. He didn’t come this far only to lose. They haven’t come this far only to fall apart.

“I want you,” he says, as though the force of his words can rip through the veil. “Cas, please, come home, Cas, please--”

With an almighty heave, he pulls once more and then he’s falling backward, another body tumbling against his in an ungainly pile of limbs and bodies. There’s skin and there’s warm, and there’s weight. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees the rift close up, as neatly as if it were never there at all.

He doesn’t care about that. He can’t, not now.

Dean looks down at the body sprawled across his lap. There are miles upon miles of naked skin for him to peruse, and he hopes that he’ll be able to do so later at his leisure, but for now, all he can concentrate on are those two luminous eyes blinking up at him.

“Cas?” Dean asks, hardly daring to believe. His hands cup Castiel’s face, fingers sweeping a few locks of dark hair off of his forehead.

Castiel blinks at him, his dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. A slow smile creeps across his face, like the dawn spreading across the horizon. “Dean,” he says, his voice the same as it always was, but this time it’s better, because it’s a voice that Dean never thought he’d hear again.

“Cas.” It’s the only word Dean seems capable of saying, but words don’t seem important anymore, not when he can lean forward and press his lips to Cas’, not when he can taste the small sigh of surprise on Cas’ lips. “Cas, I missed you so much, oh god, Cas, there’s so much I want to tell you, there’s so much I want to do--”

Cas interrupts him with another kiss, his arms threading around Dean’s shoulders to pull him closer. Gentle fingers tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and Dean thinks that he could live in this moment forever.

But before he does that, there’s something else which needs to happen first. Dean pulls away, ignoring the small whine of protest from Cas.

“Cas, there’s something I need to tell you,” he starts, only to be interrupted.

“I know,” Cas says, his face splitting into a wide, gummy smile. No shadow lurks behind his eyes, no hint of tears glisten in his eyes. There’s just happiness, radiant and absolute, gleaming from his face.

“I heard your prayer.”

Maybe once upon a time, Dean would have been satisfied with that answer, but not anymore.

“I love you,” Dean whispers, pressing the words into Cas’ skin with gentle kisses over his temple and cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you, and I’m going to tell you every day until you get sick of it.”

“You’ll have to try for a very long time,” Castiel answers, his fingers tracing along Dean’s jaw. “I like hearing those words very much.”

Dean can’t help but kiss him again. As he does so, he feels the lost and scattered pieces of his heart knitting back together until he can finally breathe for the first time in months. “Come on,” he says, once he surfaces for air. “Let’s go.”

It only hits him then that Cas is naked. Apparently rebirth and snagging people out of alternate dimensions results in a distinct lack of clothing. Dean’s eyes want to travel over the skin revealed to him, but he waits. There will be time, he realizes with a tiny thrill of delight. He and Cas have all the time in the world.

He manages to find a blanket to wrap around Cas’ shoulders. It will do until they get out to the car where he has a spare set of clothes. For now, he helps Cas to his feet. Cas looks around him, his eyes wide and huge, as though he’s overwhelmed with the world around him.

“Where are we headed?” Cas asks as they head towards the door. The Impala waits outside, beckoning them forward once more.

Dean grins as the cool night air washes over them. It’s gentle and soft, eternity held in the breeze. There’s a world held within the palm of tonight, a world held within the rest of their lives.

“Wherever we want,” he answers, stepping out of the shadow of the barn and into the world.

As they walk towards the Impala, a light rain begins to fall.

---

“Before, I wanted to say: "I found love!" But now, I want to say: "I found a person. And he belongs to me and I belong to him.”― C. JoyBell C.

#spn spoilers #supernatural #spn15 #15.19 coda #coda fic #destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel #15x19 inherit the earth #fare thee well spn #dothwrites #not beta'd we die like men here

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officialleehadan · 3 years

Text

Specimen Hunting

“You know, Sir, I don’t think I actually got your name.”

I look up at Zack, who rubs the back of his head apologetically, looking for all the world like a somewhat-ashamed puppy who got caught eating a pillow.

Then again, thinking back, I think I only got introduced to the soldiers once, and they all call me ‘sir’. The scientists mostly pretend I don’t’ exist, which is honestly easier for all of us. They don’t like that I tell them not to touch anything, and I don’t like it when they touch things.

“Charlie,” I tell him. “Use it if you want. I like it better than ‘sir’ anyway.”

I don’t’ think he’s gonna stop calling me ‘sir’ but it’s worth a try. He surprises me when he just nods and sits next to me. We’re on what I’ve generously termed an ‘away mission’ whereon we go off with a few of the scientists, something tries to eat us, and we all run away.

So far, we haven’t lost anyone else, which I mostly blame on the scientists being a skittish lot, and the surviving soldiers having a reasonably good sense for when something is trying to eat them. Today, I’m escorted by two of my favorites. Zack and Círce. They stay close, stay alert, and don’t bother looking at me when they could be watching the trees instead.

“Charlie,” Zack says to himself, and nods again. “You really don’t like it when we call you ‘sir’, do you?”

“Hate it,” I confess with a sigh. Something moves in the leaves and I whirl on it. Zack, professional that he is, levels his gun on it before I even stop moving. It turns out to be a truly immense tarantula that stands about the height of my knee. They’re not as dangerous as most of what’s on this island, but they’re creepy. Good eating though. “Those are safe to eat.”

“I like crab,,” Zack says without hesitation, and shoots it through the middle. It rattles and clicks, and staggers, but collapses. I wait until it curls up, firmly dead, before I unroll a sack and load it in. Zack doesn’t bother watching me do it. He stands guard. “Ate a lot of those?”

“Everything eats a lot of these, they’re everywhere,” I tell him. Two of the scientists with our group amble over, curious about the gunfire. The lack of screaming must have told them that there wasn’t anything trying to eat them. On this occasion, it was accurate. I eye the head scientist, a man named Carson, who does not appreciate my ‘kill it dead or run away’ approach to his samples. “You can dissect what’s left of the squishy parts, but I’m eating the legs.”

Carson’s face does something indescribable when he realizes I’m referring to the spider, but he’s a city boy from the States, and thinks that eating anything with more than four legs is icky.

I survived on this island for a month with almost no supplies. Turns out that three days is about long enough to get over the ‘it’s icky’ when it comes to strange food.

“Yes sir,” he says reluctantly when I drag the bag of tarantula over to our supplies and leave it there, knotted closed in case it decides it’s not dead. They do that sometimes. “Are there… more such specimens?”

“Haven’t looked.” It’s a good thought, though probably not the way he thinks. Fresh food is valuable, and we’ve been eating processed rations all week. I’m not above hunting whatever isn’t trying to hunt us. And maybe some of what is, if the scorpion-pig, the Tusker we saw a few nights ago, comes around again. “Give me a few minutes. Zack, want to bag dinner for tonight?”

“Is dinner gonna try and eat us?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Sure, Círce! We’re going spider-hunting.”

Círce jogs over. She’s a slight woman who is truly, astonishingly, lethal. She carries a rifle that packs a serious punch, and is widely considered to be the best sniper in the whole team. She’s also Greek, and doesn’t much care about American sensibilities.

“What to I aim at?” she asks without preamble, her rifle over her shoulder and ready to rumble. “Food hunting, sample hunting, or killing it flat?”

“Food hunting,” I tell her, pleased by her aimable approach to the concept of spiders as food. “Aim for the middle bits. Extra points if you get the fangs in he first shot. They’ve got kind of a nasty bite.”

That’s an understatement. They’re as lethal as anything else on the island, they’re just small enough to be prey, not predator. They don’t tend to nest in groups, but the eggs aren’t bad eating either. The babies are pretty scary though. They tend to ball up, so there’s a lot of them in one place.

“No big,” Círce agrees brightly. “Handguns or rifle?”

“Rifle for the adults, sidearm for the babies if we find any.” It’s a risk to leave the scientists, but there are six more soldiers guarding them, and I scouted the area before we setup here. I haven’t heard a doun-doun in hours, the nearest spindle-shell is well up in the rocks, and this area doesn’t have a lot of the nastier giant insects. “Stay alert. We haven’t seen everything around here yet, and we don’t’ want to be surprised.”

Together, we ease through the bushes, wary of the smaller spiders that build their webs here and there. Some are probably toxic, but I didn’t get bit when I was here last, so I have no idea how toxic they are.

The bushes are full of animal trails, made by animals that are mostly bigger than we are. It makes for easy going, and I keep an eye out for the thick sheets of web that marks a tarantula burrow. We find two. One is closer, and it’s empty, so I assume it belongs to the one we just killed. The other isn’t empty, and has a tarantula even bigger than the last one. This one stands around the height of my hip, and watches us balefully from the burrow’s entrance.

“You ready?” I ask Círce, who takes aim confidently. “It’s gonna be fast.”

“I’m fast too,” she said without a hint of doubt. “Zack?”

Zack chucks a stick into the web, just outside the tarantula’s reach. The spider, triggered by the feel of something in its web, lunges out. Círce’s rifle cracks once. The spider collapses to the ground, cored out by her perfect aim. Zack eases closer and shoots it a few more times, just to be sure. Together, they edge onto the web, wary of a second spider inside. Nothing appears, so they each grab a leg of the carcass, and haul it free quickly while I stand guard.

“Right, I say, very pleased indeed by our little hunt. Not bad, considering how much death crawls all over this island. “Let’s get it back to camp. We’re eating well tonight.”

+++

The Monster of the Isle:

He survived once. now they want him to do it again.

Isle of Monsters

Return to the Isle of Monsters

Monsterpedia

Doom in the Distance (Subscriber Only!)

Eight Down

In the Trees (Subscriber Only!)

+++

More Stories!

+++

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deans-haunted-baby · 4 years

Text

Okay I see there are those who are confused as to why most of us are pissed about 15x19 I will gladly explain in depth:

Let’s start off with our boys Adam Milligan & Michael. These characters have not been seen for 10 fucking years. During that time there were Adam stans like myself campaigning like mad to have him and the infamous archangel return for some much needed closure. We had to content ourselves with headcanons, fanfictions and metas based on what we briefly knew of Adam and Michael as people while they unfairly sat in Hell. You might have seen the “Adam’s Still in Hell” memes that circulated. WE WAITED OVER A DECADE FOR THIS. And finally SPN answers our prayers and returns these boys back into the story for the final season. None of us anticipated what their arc and dynamic would look like. Before we could only imagine who these two characters were/are after having been trapped in a cage so long; what their personalities would be like and if they’d be antagonistic to TFW. 15x08 was a surprise because not only were Adam and Michael likable right out of the gate but the writing for them and their dynamic was damn near flawless! And Jake fucking stole the show he killed it as these two. It’s a crime they were not featured in more episodes because the chemistry between these characters is amazing and they’re played by the same dude.

We were given so much background into both Adam and Michael’s psyches in just a short period of time. Their motivations, interests and how they viewed those that wronged them (like the Winchesters); how Hell affected/changed them both and how they viewed their families. We got to see them banter, cooperate with one another and most importantly their different personalities. With Jake Abel appearing in only a handful of SPN episodes, he still fleshed out Michael and Adam beautifully; giving them layers and complexities that most side-characters (who’ve appeared more times than they have) didn’t. The way Jake played Adam’s anger and resentment towards his brothers was brilliant because it’s more under the surface compared to his angsty teenage self in 5x18. He’d become somewhat restrained, laid-back, gentler and wiser which works because Adam displays traits similar to Sam and Dean. He’s kinder and has a sense of humor but none of that distracts from rational thought as he’s quick to analyze and dissect situations. Man, he would’ve made a great hunter/Men of Letters recruit. We know right off the bat Adam’s pissed at his brothers for abandoning him in a thousand-year-prison-sentence and didn’t lift a finger BUT that ironically doesn’t compromise his willingness to help them unlike his past self in 5x18. Jake gets the point across with this character without saying much and that’s what made him so compelling to watch in this episode.

Now Michael was even more of a mystery onion since he wasn’t onscreen as much as Adam had been in past episodes so Jake got to really build on top of this character. Going from the uptight, cold-blooded merciless celestial warrior/dutiful son of God we saw in 5x22 to someone whom despite his arrogance and regal princely demeanor was very human, intelligent, fair, mindful and compassionate. He trusted Adam and respected his opinions even if he didn’t agree 100%. Whereas most angels take over the vessel completely from their original occupant; Michael chooses to share his vessel with Adam as a mutual agreement which says a lot about who he is. He’s fascinated with humanity and wanted to explore it instead of returning to his throne in the clouds. We know that Michael was created specifically to be Humanity’s protector and guardian of Heaven and Earth so these quirks he’d demonstrated in 15x08 aren’t too far off. He holds a lot of pain inside from his abandonment issues with his father whom he loves to a fault and grief over the death of his brothers. On the surface there’s very much an abused child syndrome thing going on with him though he masks it with a domineering presence. And above all this we saw that he was capable of forgiveness. Whether or not Michael always had these traits inside to begin with, its very evident that his friendship with Adam influenced the person he became post-Hell. And that was someone who, like Castiel, chose to rebel for the sake of free will by aligning himself with the Winchesters after witnessing the evil his father had committed. He actually cared about saving the world. This is what we call character development.

What does 15x19 do? It shits all over that. We don’t get to see Adam and Michael’s dynamic at all; and this was perhaps one of (if not the first) most healthy portrayal of a relationship between an angel and its original vessel occupant in the history of Supernatural. Adam is just killed off-screen Thanos style without so much as one last word and Michael barely reacts like he gives a crap. It was just established to us in 15x08 that he’d developed an emotional bond with Adam through years of inhabiting the same body. He protected Adam while they were trapped together in Hell. They were each other’s only friend and source of comfort. They’d developed a certain co-dependency on each other while respecting one another’s space. They’d both made peace with their joint situation. All they had was each other and the writing in 15x19 basically tells us their relationship meant absolutely NOTHING to Michael based on his OOC actions in this episode. He shows up much darker and shadier now that Adam is gone and its like all those years of friendship, things like that independence, newfound strength and humility he’d gained from living with a human for so long are erased. Michael just reverts back to Chuck’s 5x22 bitchboy persona in the most ridiculous 180 shift I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life. And all because his little brother called him mean names. Pitiful. Just when he lectures Lucifer about standing up for what’s right; he betrays his own words, his allies and the rest of humanity in T-minus 2 minutes. That is total character assassination. Nothing about this motivation makes any sense.

There’s no build up to it, no foreshadowing in 15x08 or throughout 15x19 until they get to the lake. He’s completely deconstructed as a character in this episode and rendered weak. It’s like 15x08 never happened. Stripped of all his development for lousy shock value. Instead utilizing all of what he’d learned through Adam and sticking it to Lucifer by proving he could be more than what Chuck tried to mold him into; Michael becomes just another NPC in the story forfeiting the hero he was. And his reasons for siding with Chuck are never specified. Was it about about saving Adam? Was it about proving something to Lucifer (whom he’d already killed in anti-climatic fashion)? Was it all an act that he was in on with the Winchesters; cause there’s absolutely NO FUCKING WAY they could’ve predicted he’d flip on them like that for their magical plan to work. Not after everything Chuck’s done, killing Adam and Jack and leaving Michael to rot in Hell for eternity. And why would he suddenly go along with destroying the Earth when defeating Chuck would probably get Adam back (if that was his goal) which IT DID not to mention its his sworn duty to freaking protect humanity, hello? So his betrayal meant jack shit in the end as it got him killed by his fucking dad!! He’s brought back into the show only to be ruined forever and killed off in the stupidest fashion.

Moving on.

Jack Kline & Castiel. This iron-clad relationship has been in development for 4 in 1/2 years since before Jack was even born. And next to Adam & Michael its the other most healthy relationship on the show. Castiel, a million year old celestial being, spent the first 9 years of his arc on Supernatural following around the Winchesters, being torn between his loyalty to them and to Heaven. He rebelled when he was supposed to be a straight-by-the-book warrior of God. And he defied every rule in the process even when the odds were stacked against him. There was an endless rinse and repeat cycle of love, loss, betrayal and redemption when it came to his relationship with Sam and Dean. It made his character complex, interesting and layered but it still didn’t give him an arc that was his own. Castiel started out moreso being written as just the Winchester’s angel BFF/side-kick. Until Lucifer got Kelly Kline pregnant in 12x08 then things really took off. Before this, Castiel was a lost soul. His faith was broken, he was depressed, lonely, battered and rundown from years of being conflicted over the other angels and Sam & Dean. He felt he’d lost a sense of self and meaning in his life. And didn’t have a mission. Once he turned on Heaven’s orders, Castiel was a rebel angel without a cause so to speak. But like I said this changes the moment he meets Kelly.

Originally Castiel was suppose to kill Kelly in 12x19 because she was carrying the child of the devil and Nephilim are considered forbidden abominations. Told that if Lucifer’s kid was born he could unleash even more evil into the world. But instead of doing what he thought he should, Castiel decides to runaway with her. Choosing to protect her from all threats (Lucifer, demons, other angels, princes of Hell); this especially included the Winchesters. During this short time-frame the angel develops a strong, emotional bond with Kelly and her unborn son that stretches all the way to the S12 finale; to the point where it actually gave him a power-boost. From the womb, Jack appoints Castiel to be his father and protector and he’s given a glimpse into the child’s destiny that he’ll bring paradise to the world. A prophecy that the writers establish head on. This is an unusual circumstance because right here is where Castiel’s solo arc apart from the Sam & Dean takes shape. The journey of becoming a first time parent and guardian. Its a new kind of independence that for the first time has nothing to do with his friends or his family members/colleagues in the sky. Its his own personal mission that he willingly accepts, the second he connects with Jack from inside Kelly. Castiel immediately falls in love with him, before they even see each other; and adopts the boy devoting himself to keeping him safe. Making a promise to Kelly that would later become a vital plot-point in the seasons to come.

Castiel literally risks everything (Heaven and Earth) to ensure Jack’s birth and ends up dead by 12x23′s startling conclusion. Leaving the newborn infant Nephilim alone in the care of the Winchesters going into season 13; scared, confused and aged into a seemingly 18 year old boy for his own protection. And Alexander Calvert who is a fantastic addition to the cast really brings something wonderful to this role; he’s like a breath of fresh air and a bright light in the middle of a dark room. Jack’s naïve, innocent and curious about his surroundings but also as Castiel once put it “remarkably intuitive”. Right when he’s introduced his arc is intentionally paralleled with Castiel’s. Their alien-fish-out-of-water beginning is practically identical as is their adorable stoic facial expressions. Like father like son. And this helps because while the angel is currently dead in the beginning of season 13, there’s an empty void he’s left behind. So Jack is kind of his temporary stand-in. Odd enough this type of switcharoo would’ve been considered very controversial but it’s handled quite well. Alex is so likable and charming I almost wish Supernatural had introduced him sooner. I mean I really thought I was looking at Castiel’s actual mini-me and not the son of Satan. But I digress Jack’s story in the first half of this season is pretty much about discovery and reuniting with Castiel. He’s a baby so everything is new to him but he’s also one of the most powerful beings in the universe destined for greatness which makes the Winchesters very nervous.

Jack remembers choosing Castiel as his dad which is why he already feels strongly connected to him. Its a bond so powerful that it actually resurrects Castiel out of the Empty the first time. Something Chuck himself was unable to do (that was until the mess that is 15x19). When they’re finally reunited the payoff comes so naturally. Misha and Alex have such a phenomenal onscreen chemistry starting with that first hug; they really play off one another so well that it doesn’t feel like two angels interacting but a genuine father and son duo. So much of what makes Jack and Castiel’s relationship so relatable, deep and endearing is because of what the actors bring to it. But they’re not just a fascinating relationship, they’re compelling on their own too. Both trying to find their way in the world and within the Winchesters’ lives. Death is no stranger to either of them (tragic being that Jack is only a toddler). They’ve each experienced their own personal pain, traumas, life lessons, mistakes and decisions. The biggest for Castiel would be his deal with the Empty to save Jack in 14x08. While for Jack it was the consequences of said deal that would lose his soul causing him to accidently kill Sam and Dean’s mom in 14x18 as a result (something that Jack struggles with immensely to the brink of depression from so much guilt and regret that he’d rather die). Repercussions that would follow into the shows final season. What’s interesting about this deal though is that Castiel made it on parental instinct alone not as a promise to Kelly. He chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of his son as a selfless act of love and kept it a secret from Sam & Dean until his death in 15x18. That’s the extent how much this child meant to him. The other great thing about their family dynamic is that it parallels nicely with the Winchesters. Castiel and Jack share this unconditional love that can never be broken. its even greater than their ties to the Winchesters themselves just as Sam & Dean’s love for each other is greater than any of their other relationships. They would do anything for each other. Castiel would go to the ends of the earth for the little nougat baby because that’s his son.

Each time these characters were faced with danger or died, Castiel and Jack were overcome with extreme devastation and distress. That said its not just pain that binds these two its happiness. Jack is the best thing that ever happened to Castiel. Literally becoming a father to that child saved him. It brought him back to life, restored his faith and gave him a sense of self-worth and hope he’d long since abandoned. And for Jack, Castiel is the best dad he’ll ever have! He gave this baby comfort, wisdom, nurturing, strength. Was always there when he needed him whether it was to talk or to have his back. No other person in Jack’s life has ever made such an important impact nor made him feel more safe and loved than Castiel. Even when Jack had done such a horrible thing to Mary alienating himself from his family; it was Castiel’s unyielding devotion to Jack that ended up being his salvation. This was huge because once again he’d chosen over the Winchesters proving that no matter what (whether it be the world ending) his son comes first. So when Castiel’s pact with the Empty finally comes due in 15x18 you’d think it’d have an earth-shattering affect on Jack in 15x19. I mean for the first bit it does...until he becomes God. Then its like to hell with that relationship. Castiel is a complete afterthought to Jack and the rest of TFW in this episode. JACK DOESN’T EVEN GET TO GRIEVE HIM PROPERLY. And he just lost his dad because of a deal he’d made a year ago for him. A DEAL JACK HAS BEEN FUCKING DREADING WHILE HE WAS SOULLESS MIND YOU. And when he finally has the power to bring him back, he doesn’t? Jack just walks around with a conceited smirk on his face, bids Sam and Dean adieu and fucks off. I mean who gives a shit right, its only your dad that you love more than anything. This was extremely OOC given that time in 14x14 Jack nearly lost his shit when Castiel got infected with gorgon poison; the anti-venom wasn’t working so Jack resorts to using his powers putting his soul at risk.

I mean if he was so limited to helping Castiel in the Empty AT LEAST FREAKING CLARIFIY THIS TO THE AUDIENCE. This is not about shipping a certain pairing btw. Jack becoming God is not the issue its his characterization after the fact. His first instinct would’ve been to save his dad above getting in touch with the Earth. Yes we knew this transformation was coming it was foreshowed way back in Season 12. Does that justify bad writing or character assassination?? HELL NO.

This is what I’m talking about, episode 15x19 deliberately butchers these characters and their relationships. It shat all over them. No one is behaving like themselves. The pacing is wonky and inconstant. The script feels like it underwent several rewrites and I swear there were scenes cut out. The acting is off too and maybe the pandemic could be blamed for these things but it ultimately falls on the writer. Buckleming screwed up by showing us they don’t know who the hell these characters are, their motivations nor do they give a rat’s ass. And its noticeable on screen. I’ve known better fanfiction writers for SPN than these guys. It’s like they all came back to work but just didn’t care to put the effort into it. That’s why people like me are upset and we have every freaking right to be. Some of us have been with this series for the entire 15 year run. I at least expect these characters to be handled better and for things to make sense. 15x19 doesn’t and its not satisfying its just a cruel joke. The writers and Dabb should be embarrassed to have put this out there thinking we’d just swallow it and shut up. But far as I’m concerned the only thing this episode serves is to disrespect and ruin everybody while angering long-time fans.

MICHAEL. ADAM MILLIGAN. JACK KLINE AND CASTIEL DESERVED BETTER. And that’s the tea.

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mocacheezy · 3 years

Text

Things that made watching Transformers (2007) easier and even enjoyable:

[note: B'verse gets the treatment that it gets by fandom for good reasons. There are tons of posts that dissect the bullshit of these movies far better than my second-language-english-non-american self could ever tackle, so I am not doing that, or plan on doing that. But if I decide that I'll get through every continuity of the franchise I will find a way to make it fun for myself. And so, this is my search for golden nuggets in these movies, because they did bring in new fans to the franchise and that's why we have other continuities that we might not have otherwise. Credit where it's due, and some positivity for those that did find B'verse at least amusing if nothing else. ]

🍴🥄🔪🍴🥄🔪🍴🥄🔪🍴🥄🔪🥄🔪🍴🥄🔪

Frenzy

Anytime Frenzy was on screen made me smile because his movements and personality were hilarious, he is just so expressive despite looking like someone super glued a bunch of knifes together. I wouldn't know it was Frenzy if I didn't go to the Wiki, but no matter that, he was funny and that's what matters.

The original Cybertronian robot modes

We don't see them for long, but the glimpses were glorious. Just look at Optimus

Gorgeous. What I wouldn't give to see the details up close. Maybe I'll go looking eventually, but this is just so nice.

We also get a "sexily rises from the pool" scene with Ironhide (probably unintentional and I am biased due to being a robofucker. In any case, very very nice and Cybertronians look so good as aliens)

"Excuse me, are you the Tooth Fairy?"

You see this kid?

This little girl was the only human I cared about in the movie until I saw just how badass Mikaela is, and how cool the military dude is. I don't like kids, but I would lay down my life for this girl.

This one scene just makes me think of what would happen if her parents showed up way earlier. Ironhide would be her guardian and it would be both adorable and hilarious because "Honey, you have to drive in a sentient alien that looks just like our car because the goverment men said so or there will be consequences and potential alien threats."

There are so many joke potentials there; the cultural barrier, the "I am the ine that is supposed to keep her safe" glaring contests, there is just so much shenanigans that could happen.

Also, tea party with the kid. Tea party with the kid.

Sam Witwicky actually reacts like an average human would when faced with the situations he finds himself in

Do I like Sam Witwicky? No, he is the kind of character that I would want to punch irl because of his personality and actions. He is disgusting. But watching him scamper and scream and stutter when faced with giant metal robot aliens that can squish him like a bug? Good, that was a beliavable reaction and I enjoyed it a great deal.

Megatron. Just, ✨Megatron✨

(the best screenshot of the few I could take while watching, no, I am not going back for a better one, he looks perfect like this)

I also laughted at how they kept him frozen like a popsicle. And not even well, like, they COULD'VE made an actual freezer and pop him in instead of using those couple of tubes just so he was displayed for all personell to gawk at. HE CRASHED IN THE ANTARCTIC!

The design looks so good, because it looks ALIEN and POINTY and AGH!!! The colors? There are no colors that would make him stand out, he looks like someone opened a cutlery drawer, mixed up what's inside, threw in some extra knifes for a good measure and then shook the whole thing until this guy materialized from the pile. It is both incredibly annoying and satisfying.

🔪

Mr. Welker did an amazing job with his voice, I don't know what the directions were, but oh man it sure sent shivers down my spine. That is the kind of voice that spells "You are going to die" and I already have my coffin picked out.

EDIT: SO APPARENTLY! IT WAS NOT WELKER THAT VOICED MEGATRON.

It was Hugo Weaving, and yes the man did am amazing job, but I apologize a million times, I was CERTAIN that THE OG VA OF MEGATRON WOULD ALSO HAVE VOICED MEGATRON. LIKE, OKAY BAY, OKAY!

🔪

LOOK AT THE AMOUNT OF ICE! With how quick he came back fully online once Frenzy turned off the freeze liquid tubes, I bet he was half awake through the whole thing. Systems just below idling or something, in any case, AGENTS YOU ARE SO DUMB! WHO WAS GIVING SUBPAR FUNDING TO THEM, THEY BETTER BE FIRED!

I also was glad that Sam refused to call him by the name the sector asigned to him, despite Megatron being in stasis. And that he insisted they use the correct name. Good job Sam, acknowledge the threat by the actual name and show respect to a fellow sentient lifeform. Even though said lifeform is hellbent on destruction of the universe and your world.

ALSO, AND I CANNOT STRESS THE LAUGHTER AND AMUSEMENT HERE; the sheer DISRESPECT! They don't disassemble Megatron's corpse. No, these idiots, these absolute morons decide to dump him into the ocean, letting him sink to the lowest possible point (not sure if they did say it was the M' Trench or not), where there are proper freezing temperatures - good! You're learning, good job!! - just... In full. Full corpse. What's left of him. Just blup! Down with the fishies he goes!

I understand that they probably didn't know how to approach Optimus about it, but... At least behead the guy. He came back ONCE, who is to say he won't come back again?! Safety precautions my dears.

They also completely disregard what a giant extraterrestrial metal alien rusting away on the bottom of the ocean could do to the ecosystem at large. Like, I find this incredibly amusing, because this ISN'T something most folks think about when watching a movie but we have giant squids down there. We have so much weird things down there, the ocean isn't even fully explored AND YOU WANT TO CHUCK AN ALIEN CORPSE DOWN THERE?!

Now the real question: is he a looker? *looks at the pictures* hmmmm, depends on if you like knifes. Like, really like knifes. Like really, really REALLY want to get it on with a fine assembly of kitchen knifes that were exposed to the elements but somehow haven't rusted away completely.

I think he's neat.

Needs a good long powerwash though. Preferrably with something to help the whole "I was frozen for more than 50 years and sprang back to action as soon as I woke up" thing that happened.

My man needs to take a moment and get his bearings, like dude. Please. You can conquer the world after some energon and slow system boot-up period. The strain on the systems my dude, you ain't young.

Also love that this "death" was probably reused in TFP because lord golly, do we love our faves ending up under the sea. (Though Megan took a much bigger fall, Bayverse WAS PLOPPED INTO THE WATER LIKE A NEWLY ACQUIRED FISH I CAN'T YOU GUYS I CAN'T!)

In short: I love the comedy of american military giving such disrespect to an Alien Warlord. These guys are really sealing their fate.

I loved the way they got the Witwicky family to be important to the plot

The whole "selling my great great grandpa's glasses on e-bay" thing gives us a very good self insert/OC/rewrite/movie AU potential. Don't like Sam and his disgustingness? Find a way to write a cousin or some far off relative or hell, even just someone who buys the glasses off e-bay and go wild with it!

Archibald was also clearly an inspiration for Isaac Sumdac as far as I can tell, what with both of them using Megatron as a means of helping technology advance.

Only difference being one of them lived and actually talked to Megatron after he came back online and the other got driven to madness and death due to the amount of information beamed into his brain. Isaac also acquired a space baby daughter, so the guy is absolutely luckier of the two.

Mikaela being fucking competent and badass throughout the movie, and not being just fanservice eyecandy

I could do without the fanservice, but her personality? I loved it. I loved that she wasn't crawling to Sam and wasn't being "hard to get". Which is also why I was very displeased at the very sudden "oh yeah, romance! She returns his feelings after he took her for a ride and let her vent her frustrations!". The movie is 2 hours long and they could throw in some moments where these two connect?

Welp, it is an action movie, boy gets girl no matter what, can't complain about the staple in the genre.

However, Mikaela x Optimus? Now THAT is something I considered as soon as the two locked eyes and interacted. Like, even taking my shipping goggles off, these two could have a very interesting dynamic and Mikaela could be a very good protagonist. I wonder what the movie would be like with her as the lead and Sam being the fucking moron she has to drag along with her.

BUT ALSO! Can we talk about the horrible, excruciating fact that her and Bumblebee drove around with Bee's damaged legs dragging over asphalt all the time he was shooting at 'Cons? There were sparks flying! SHE WAS DRIVING BACKWARDS! She took command of the situation and did what she could because Bee still wanted TO FIGHT!

Also, they way she beat up Frenzy? Gorgeous, I want to slap Sam's non-existent balls off for not atleast saying "thanks". The dude would be sliced thinner than cabbage if she wasn't there.

The millitary man we are supposed to care about because his wife gave birth while he was on duty and we see his baby three times in the whole movie, actually being a pretty awesome and well-written character

Look, personally, I was a little confused at the reason why we were seeing his wife and baby interacting/the scene where she thinks her husband is dead. Mostly because I don't like kids, so scenes like that, when I don't even know who the character is, have no impact at all. Him having a baby isn't going to make me like the guy more, unless I know his character. Him being absent because he's on duty doesn't mean he'll be a good dad (though he looks like the kind of man that will try his best, and I like that in a man). So seeing his wife and kid at the start of the movie seemed pointless to me.

BUT! FOCUSING ON THE POSITIVES HERE!

Lennox is a good character and whenever he was on screen I was invested in what is going to happen to him. He's the kind of action movie lead that would have me invested, despite my meh interest in mainly gun fight oriented action movies.

Essentially, loved the guy, would love to see more of him while also being able to tell what's happening on screen. Also the comedy scenes he was in were usually funny.

Okay so these are the things I like about the first movie! It was very long, had to watch it on 2,5x speed because it simultainously dragged while ALSO giving me too much information, but the moments like these and the way my imagination latched onto characters I liked made it watchable. It isn't a movie I'd use to introduce someone to the TF franchise, but it provided me with lots of material for my imagination to run wild.

#moca watches #transformers #transformers bayverse #moca screeches #Yes the cutlery divider is due to the Decepticons looking like they do. It amuses me greatly.

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verobatto · 4 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXXIX

It was a love story from the very beginning

"You, me... And Sam."

Hello my friends!!! How are you? I feel much better now thanks to all your asks and your memes and your cracks, I adore them all!

Okay, putting that to a side, and still dreaming about how Jensen will give us the ending we all deserve, let's continue with this analysis, because is time to talk about the mixtape.

From butterflies in the stomach and Foreshadows of the new God

When the episode starts, there's a hint of what Jack's mission is. But coming out from Dagon's mouth, it became like a real bad future.

Dagon: Yeah. And he's not gonna stop there. Every sad, weak human, every tight-ass angel, every sniveling demon they'll all be consumed. So go ahead. Play your games. But whether you're healthy or sick, filthy or clean, He will be born. Good times.

Is almost the contrary to what Jack will actually do for the world. He will consume but it will be Chuck's powers until the last drop of it. And against Dagon's speech, he will save each demon and angel and restore everything.

Now, let's talk about CAS coming back to the bunker...

Gif credit @godshipsit

I think his face is saying everything here. The one entering in the bunker after go MIA, was Cas', so, Dean's face is scandalous.

Imagine that suddenly your disappeared crush enters through the door without previous announcement. Of cour we can read the bumping heart allnover Dean's cheek, his eyes went wide, in surprise. 'Is CAS!'

He was so worried this whole time, thinking the worst could happen to him, and now CAS is there, alive.

But his reaction to it will be completely different to Sam's reaction. This was settled to make us see the difference between how a friend would react and how a lover would react. Blatant.

Sam: Hey. You're all right. Um – Where have you been?

Sam is asking as a friend, but Dean, Dean doesn't...

Dean: Let me rephrase that for Sam. Where the hell have you been? And why have you ignored our phone calls?

Okay, let's just stop here, this is the way a wife will ask her husband. But because we are talking about Dean, we can see his shield. His shield is US/WE, his shield is SAM, because he wants to drag his brother into the feeling of being desperately worried. Because recognize that DEAN WAS THE ONLY ONE ALMOAT LOOSING HIS HEAD TRYING TO KNOW IF CAS WAS ALIVE OR WHWRE HE WAS IA SHOWING WEAKNESS, IS SHOWING HIS TRUE FEELINGS FOR THE ANGEL. So, the theme of the I/ME vs the WE/US is perfectly written all over this episode.

Castiel: Where I was, the – the reception was, uh, poor.

Dean: No bars? No bars. That's his excuse. Wow.

Castiel: I was in Heaven. I was working with the angels. When I saw Dagon had captured Kelly, I-I thought they could help.

Okay Castiel is proving he is lying by himself here, because he said first he had not signal, and now, he heard one of the so many voice mails Dean had left in his phone.

Sam: And?

Castiel: Nothing.

Sam: Well, at least you're back. We're glad you're back

And be prepared again for the difference between the friend and the JILTED lover.

Dean: Really? No, I'm sorry. Okay, 'cause while you were striking out in Heaven, we had a shot at Dagon, and we lost.

Maybe Dean was waiting Sam to second him in his anger. But it was only in Dean's heart, the deception, and the recalling of so many days be worried about CAS. Because that's what romantic love makes you be.

Castiel: I know. I received your messages.

This was like a bomb for Dean...

Dean: Oh, you did – you did receive the messages? Okay, that's good.

Sarcasm...

Castiel: Dean.

Gif credit @starlightcastiel

Dean can't handle the pain in his heart of being rejected and ignored by Castiel, so he searches for his shield again: We/Us/Sam and me.

Dean: So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us? That's great. 'Cause we really could've used the backup. But, uh, you were too busy with, um (Clicks tongue) What was it? Nothing?

Castiel: Dean, I –

Dean: What the hell is wrong with you, man? You know, whatever. That's (Chuckles) Yeah. Welcome back. (walks away)

Dean is so mad with CAS. And is blatant that his reaction is totally different to Sam's.

The Mixtape as a way to reciprocate Castiel's confession, and the desperate attempt to make CAS to stay by his side.

Okay, we are now in the scene. I'm sure this scene had been dissected by many meta writers. I won't say new things, but i will point a little to their body languages.

Okay, the scene starts with Castiel knocking at Dean's door to give him back the mixtape, so jus aknowledged there that Dean gave CAS a freaking mixtape, which doesn't have another meaning that ROMANTIC. But we can assume Castiel doesn't get this human's customaries, also, we can assume he does, because boop culture that Metatron out at once in his head... So...

After Dean, without looking at him, because he is mad and now he has to handle this angel lack of knowledge about WHAT GIFTING A MIXTAPE MEANS, he said "It's a gift, you keep those."

And Castiel gets nervous.

Gif credit @stardustcas

The swallow and the way he opens his mouth again to breathe and maybe to say something else, but he stopped himself. Castiel is nervous. I thought at first because he has to find the Colt, and he knew Dean kept it in his room. But we know now that it wasn't just that. He was flustered because the intimacy of the situation with the man he loves.

Castiel looks around before attempting to leave, maybe searching for the Colt, but then Dean starts talking:

Dean: Cas, you can't – With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.

And in the middle of the intimate scene, awkward moment, Dean needs his shield more than never.

Castiel: Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. And I just wanted I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.

This speech is so important, because it shows how depressed Castiel felt, how uneasy. How unworthy. He needed to be useful. So he decided to start alone this dangerous journey that will end in his death. He also mentions the win. Because he didn't know he will be always Dean's win, as we will see in episode 13x06 when CAS comes back to Dean alive.

After they talk about Dragon, and Cas' asks if Sam and Dean are willing to kill an innocent, because that's dirty work, that's the mission CAS had taken in his own shoulders, Dean says this...

Dean: We will find a better way.

Castiel: You mean, we?

Gif set credit @deanwinchestrs

Cas points at Dean with the mixtape, because he wants to clarify if Dean is referring to them, to JUST CAS AND DEAN. YOU AND ME. THE TWO OF US. And Dean is now the flustered one. Look at Dean's face, being in just one spot, recognizing that the shield can be broken, that he is talking about CAS and him. Is too intimate. Too different. So his face is burning. And even so, the words are out. 'Yes, dumbass, we.'

What was this? This was an attempt coming from Castiel to get to know Dean's feelings. Pointing with the mixtape to just Dean and him. Not Sam here. Not shield. And Dean goes for it. Goes for that WE: YOU AND ME.

But then, Dean backtraks

Gif set credit @stardustcas

He starts explaining the WE, avoiding Castiel's gaze, he goes... 'You, me...' and then he tilts his head, and adds the shield back again: 'and Sam.'

The second gif is showing Dean backtracking, Because is too intimate, is too risky, he is standing on the edge between friendship and something else. He can't cross that line. Mostly because he is not sure about Castiel's feelings for him, and more now, after seeing how CAS ignored him for so long. Dean is like:

"What am I doing? Let's mention Sam here, and turn this into no homo conversation."

But the nervousness is all over the scene, i got nervous watching it because the awkward moment!

Gif set credit @stardustcas

More nervousness. Dean's flustered eyes. The swallowing. The attempt of staring into those blue eyes of the man he loves. (The butterflies in the stomach, the heart beating fast, the dry mouth) trying to make the conversation more normal, but their faces are loud.

Vas says he likes that and then Dean is more frustrated than never and his dry mouth is asking for a beer, or maybe he find a way out from the awkward moment, the gay moment. He needs to breathe. He almost let his guard down with this angel. And the desperate way to say STAY WITH ME. DON'T GO AWAY AGAIN. To his angel.

Castiel engages with a seductive look in the middle of the sexual tension

Sam: I mean, how did Cass even get the Colt out of the safe in the first place?

Dean drops his head. Sam raises an eyebrow

Sam Dean, you – you put the Colt back in the safe, right? Dean?

Dean: It was under my pillow. It – I like to keep it close. (Sighs) He came into my room and he played me.

Okay i can even explain the intimacy of this. Even if CAS didn't know about this and he just went searching all over Dean's room. Mention this after the huge scene full of romantic tension, has a meaning. Again: INTIMACY. And adding the "He played me" to all of this is another symbol way to show theme audience this was like that scene between the guy and his crush, in wich his crush takes advantage of it and plays him by stealing something from him. Yes.

Finally, when they find CAS... This scene...

Gif credit @stardustcas

Dean is mad, very mad at him. Because Castiel really played him. But... Look at the scene. Look at Castiel's gaze: PURE SEDUCTION. He maybe is aware of the effect he causes on Dean. And after the mixtape scene, he goes for it. Seduction as if they were in their first seasons together. And Dean is muted, and stares at him, then checks him out, and they're in their own sexual tension world, until Sam calls him. But he has to calls him twice because his brother is too embedded into Castiel's hot behavior.

But don't forget Dean is mad at him. So now, is Dean the one playing around with CAS. Throwing the keys at him and making him almost loose his stability to reach them.

Closing the circle

When Dean and Sam reach Castiel again in the middle of a battle with Dragon, Dean's desperation when Dagon is about to smite Castiel is high level.

But then Jack saves the day, not just showing CAS the future (the ending of season 15) but also, Jack gave him powers to finish Dagon.

Then, the scene in wich Castiel heals Dean is full of intimacy again. The lingerie touch, rubbing fingers. Because Dean is moving his hand slowly away from CAS touch but he ended by letting his hand to feel Castiel's rubbing his fingers. To let Castiel to heal him.

And then, CAS is gone again.

To Conclude:

12x19: The Future has Destiel all over it. Dean mad at him, reaching the level of a JILTED lover. Dean way to protect himself from another rejection using the WE/US/SAM shield. Just because he can't handle it. The doubts about Cas' feelings, and the way the angel always find to go MIA, makes his heart stutter.

The mixtape scene is one of the most emblematic. The nervousness is all over their faces, and Misha and Jensen transmite perfectly the romantic tension between the two characters and goes straight to our hearts, making us feel awkward and flustered too.

Hope you like this meta. See you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 12, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX, LXXIX, LXXX, LXXXI, LXXXII, LXXXIII, LXXXIV, LXXXV, LXXXVI, LXXXVII, LXXXVIII.

Buenos Aires, November 24th 2020, 9:36 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 12 meta #destiel mixtape #destiel is canon

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

Note

(Hi, me again.)

Janus you should check on Remus. If he wants to be alone then you can go back to sleep but it’s better to make sure he’s okay and risk him being a little bit annoyed than to leave him alone when he seems to be distressed. Also Ms Carl is adorable.

Tw: Light allusions to past abuse and drug use. There is exactly 1 line that implies some things but it’s so vague I’m pretty sure it doesn’t need to be trigger tagged

"You're right" Janus replied. He took a deep breathe to psyche himself up.

He slowly untangled himself from Ms. Carl and let her soft noddle body sink down into the couch pillows. He put a blanket over her so she wouldn't get cold.

He sneaked as quietly as he could over to the bedroom door. Footsteps could be heard from inside the room. Loud snores were still coming from the other couch so he tried to knock as quietly as possible. The steps stopped abruptly.

"....Hey...Remus?....Are you alright?" No response came. Janus decided to blurt out "I heard some weird noises coming from the kitchen and I got worried the zombie apocalypse had started. Just wanted to make sure you haven't gotten bit"

The door opened and Remus peaked out at him. "Can't sleep either?"

Janus shrugged.

Remus hesitated before asking "...Wanna come in?"

"I would like that"

He opened the door and let them come in. He still seemed jittery and shaky as he slumped down by the foot of the bed. Janus sat down as well but made sure they weren't too close to him.

Remus writhed the ring on his finger around while biting on the inside of his cheek. "Did you see me in the kitchen?"

"Do you want me to lie?"

"...no"

"Then yes. Were the painkillers out of date or did you simply feel like having a good ol round of spitting stuff into a trashcan?"

It took a little bit before Remus answered "Y'know how it is when you can't sleep. Your brain just blasts off and at first you're thinking about torture methods and eel monsters but then without you realizing you start remembering....stuff....you start... missing people...that you know you shouldn't miss"

"Mhm. I get that. Honestly it feels incredibly weird to not even speak to my parents during this time of year. They haven't even bothered to call. It's not like I have their number blocked-"

"You should!" Remus butted in.

"I know. I just kinda had this revenge plan in mind where one of my parents would call me to wonder when I would visit and then I could go on a terrifically theatrical yelling spree about how I am happy and incredibly gay with my boyfriend and that I am also pretty and desirable no matter what they say!!....But uh as you can see they totally definitely called...And they totally wonder how am I.....so it’s really not at all silly for me to miss them even if they were the most angelic most kind most complimentary parents on the planet!”

Remus turned to meet his eyes “I don’t think it’s silly”

“I don’t think you getting up from the couch to spit painkillers into a trashcan is silly either”

“Babe I already knew that. I can just feel in my red bloody guts you get up to do much weirder shit in the middle of the night...Like eating dried snake scales like chips!”

“Aw chucks! You caught me!” Janus threw his hands up and fake sighed.

He rubbed his hands together and did his evil snicker which he practiced regularly "Yes I caught you in my web! Now I shall dissect you!!"

"Oh! Oh! How frightening!!" Janus fanned himself and fell back on the bed "Anything but my organs! Please!"

Remus grinned as he laid down beside them. “Your organs are mine!! My fine lil bitchbabe!!”

He slammed his head down into Janus’ stomach. It made sound like a dog’s squeaky toy. Remus stopped and was about to ask if they were okay when they let up into a laugh.They sank deeper down against the sheets and turned their head to meet their crush’s eyes.

“Honey if you destroy my organs now you will never get to dissect them” Janus said with a smile.

“Ugh. Beginner’s mistake. Sorry”

Janus was one second away from letting out some amazingly cheesy line about how he already had his heart anyway, but they stopped themself. Remus had laid himself on his side and was still playing with the ring on his finger. There was a slightly fake smile playing on his lips.

“You wanna hear something real silly?”

“Go ahead”

“I’m missing Os. It’s not like you. Missing parents is like understandable ‘cause they’re like uh your parents. But I haven’t talked to mine in like 4 years so I don’t even miss them most of the time, but Os, oh fucking hell. It’s so stupid since he’s just some like guy! I shouldn’t miss him as much as I do”

Janus looked at him for a few seconds. They slowly blinked before looking at him for a bit more.

“Honey didn’t you date that guy for 3 years?”

“Well uhhh it was more like 4 years, it was just that he waited until my 18th birthday to officially start dating me and kissing me in public”

Janus waved his hand around “The exact time doesn’t matter. You are literally still wearing a fiance ring from him. Dear I promise it’s not stupid to still miss someone you obviously put a lot of effort and attention into building a future with. I am quite sure it’s even normal to miss your exes even after many a months without them”

Remus looked down into the sheets as he traced his finger along the patterns of gold “......i think rowan would be mad if she knew i still missed him...i know i shouldn’t”

“From what she’s told me it sounds more like she’s angry at herself, and also filled with enough rage at Oswald to power a sun”

“You sure? ‘Cause sometimes it feels like it’s my fault for making her angry”

“I’m sure”

His shoulders relaxed just a bit, though his eyes kept looking downwards “I wish that when I miss Os I would at least only miss him. But” He leant his head back and groaned “It’s complicated and gross and it makes me sick. Like- like before on the couch I started to remember the holidays we spent together and he would always try to make them extra fun by....by buying more....y’know uhm drugs for us. More hard stuff. And it makes me miss that as well. Even though I know I hated being high. I hated losing time and control over myself and being unable to form coherent sentences or feel what I was doing with my own body even be aware of what was happening to me half the time. And yet I miss it somehow. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming for it and the only part of myself I can control are my thoughts. They’re only thoughts!! They don’t choose what my hands do or what I say! I am just trapped inside of myself and I have to watch as- as- So that’s why I uh took the painkillers and spat them out immediately after. They managed to remind my body of the....the..bad things that came with being high. It made me not miss it as much. I’ve done the painkiller method before, it works even if it hurts”

Janus moved a bit closer “Honey I am quite sure that is the definition of triggering yourself”

“No!!! It just!!! It makes my body get like hot flashes and I start to shake and get the urge to puke and feel sick and ill and all fucked up!!! It’s just a reminder!! A physical remind- oh.....Okay...so I might be triggering myself to keep the urge to relapse away but eeehhhh at least it’s better than relapsing??”

"Well yes it is, and I admire how you're able to hold yourself back-”

“Like the most dangerous session of edging” Remus interrupted. He glanced to Janus to see if it got a chuckle out of them. It did even if they tried to hide it.

“Yeah sure. Like that. Very strong. Very admirable” Janus muttered “But honey dear darling sucklepie. You fucked up piece of bloody trash smeared together into a person, I am quite sure there are better ways to avoid relapsing. Like..”

They dragged in a few loose threads at the end of their shirt sleeve. A soft blush spread on their cheeks.

“Like you could talk to me? Maybe? If you feel comfortable. I could tell you about lizards and space worms to distract you until you feel better. I could even stay over if the urge to relapse doesn’t go away. We wouldn’t have to sleep in the same room, we don’t have to do that tonight either. At worst if you need to trigger yourself I will at least be here to calm you down afterwards” Janus reached out to move his hand onto his “If that sounds g-”

Remus flinched. Really violently flinched. The type of flinch where his breathe hitched for just a moment and his whole body moved back. And when he realized he’d flinched his eyes were still wide open, his jaw tense, his hands gripping onto the sheets.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean- It’s not ‘cause it’s you”

“I know. It’s okay” Janus assured.

“....I don’t remember Os’ eyecolor” Remus quietly admitted. His voice shook and his fingers clammered onto the edges of his ring “I can’t remember if they were a light brown or a hazel green or- or a green like blue. I can’t remember. Isn’t that stupid? I- I spent so much time with him I should remember. But it’s so blurry and distorted and when I try to remember Anything, any single small thing, about those entire 4 years of my life I get such a piercing headache I stop trying to remember. And when I don’t stop I start feeling sick to my stomach and my eyes tear up and it’s like there’s an octopus in my stomach and it’s filling my insides with oil until the oil reaches up to my throat and the oil makes me unable to breathe or speak or scream for help and I’m drowning and I can’t remember his eyecolor-”

“Remus, Remus please focus on me” Janus held back the urge to reach out and comfort him “Just follow my breathing, please”

“If anything actually happened- if the pain was real I should be able to remember it” Remus continued on, not really hearing them “4 entire years of my life! Gone! Barely even there! I should- If I forgot it it means it wasn’t important- It means it never mattered - I was just overreacting and making things up and-”

“Bearded dragon lizards have a third eye on their neck” Janus blurted out.

Remus stopped and looked at him “What?”

“Sorry I had to get your attention somehow. You were kind of spiraling and just laying on thickly with the falsehoods. Could you follow my breathing?”

“Yeah- uh- I think-”

“Good”

Janus slowly breathed. Remus tried to mimick them. When he breathed in he puffed up his cheeks like a frog. He hesitantly reached out and placed his finger where the vein on their wrist was.

“is this okay? Sometimes feeling someone else’s pulse helps. Reminds me I’m still alive. And not like a zombie who was left dead in Os’ apartment”

“It’s okay” Janus assured.

“You have so much blood Jannie. So much blood and organs and nice layers of skin cells. It’s amazing. All those blood cells working to hold you together. I wish I could hug every single one of your blood cells. I want to thank them for keeping you alive”

Janus blushed “Thank you”

Remus laid down on his back with his head against the pillow. His hand stayed on their vein while the other moved to trace their cheek “There your blood goes, making your cheeks all red”

Him pointing it out made them blush even more “Great observation. I would have never noticed. Thanks. Are you feeling any calmer?”

“I think so. Just a little though. The worry is still there. It’s like my organs are one step away crumbling on on themself. But having something to focus on helps. Even if it’s just your pulse and pretty face”

Janus starting to look like a christmas light “Glad I could help. Just remember that not remembering all of it doesn’t mean shit” They choose to avoid the topic of abuse to not make him freak out again “I mean I am quite sure drug usage and going through periods of psychosis will do that to your memory in most cases”

Remus sent him a small smile “You’re right. My smart lil Jannie”

Jan laid down with their head against the other pillow. Remus kept his hand lightly on their wrist as they gave him a soft look.

“Do you also have like specific phrases stuck in your head?” Remus asked “Like the 4 years are so blurry and yet I can remember certain things Os said so fucking clearly it drives me crazy”

“..I do get that. Even if my memory isn’t as blurry. Some of the things my mom called me just doesn’t go away even if I now know they’re not true”

Remus eyes were had stilled and were staring right through Janus as he admitted “I think I might be avoiding going on hormones because of some of the things Os said to me”

For a moment Janus saw a vision of him kicking the shit out of Os “Do you want to talk about it?” He said through slightly gritted teeth.

“Mhm.....He said he would break up with me if I got on T...said he wouldn’t be able to love me anymore....said he hadn’t signed up for dating a person who did that to themself”

Remus held onto Janus’ wrists a little harder. His eyes met theirs. His voice nearly broke as he continued.

“He said I would look like a disgusting unloveable monster if I got on T. That no one would want someone with a body that was a freakish monster version of sexes”

Janus barely thought for a single moment before respond dead faced with “Monsters are hot though”

Remus’ eyes went wide as he held back laughter “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. If That fucking Oswald thinks you would look like a monster then what’s so wrong about monsters? It just sounds like he had bad taste! Monsters are aesthetically pleasing as hell, And cool. And being a freakish monster version of sexes sounds dope as hell actually!”

A smile started to play on his lips “I guess you’re right. I mean monsters can fuck shit up!! That’s pretty metal”

“Exactly! I can not think of a single situation where I wouldn’t want to be with a monster!”

“Oh sweet Jannie. My wonderful lil monsterfucker. I knew your furry experience would turn into wonderful uplifting one day”

“Scallie. I was never a furry. Only a scallie and a monsterfucker. Don’t get it twisted now”

Remus burst out laughing at that “Sorry. Deeply sorry. I must never call you a furry. I would never share misinformation!”

Janus laughed as well. They both leant closer. Remus lightly leant his forehead against theirs and closed their eyes.

“But really Rem, he is out of your life. What he thinks doesn’t matter anymore in any way. It never did anyway. Especially if he’s clearly not a monsterfucker and therefore not cultured in anyway”

“The only type of exploitation movie he ever wanted to watch with me was the lesbian vampire kind so definitely uncultured”

They extra gasped “very uncultured! Such a bullshit of a man!”

He chuckled at that “He never liked my neon clothes. Said I looked like a clown”

“Clowns can be both incredibly fashionable and creepy. So they fit you perfectly!”

Remus took a deep breathe. Actually saying things he disliked about his ex felt like walking through a huge pile of snow “He would make fun of my infodumping! And say I talked to much every time I ranted! He said my original characters were stupid and childish!”

“His ears must have been broken. He was probably too busy shoving his head up his own ass to actually hear your brilliant ideas and interesting gross facts”

“He always used my psychosis against me! Whenever I tried to have a mature conversation about how he acted like a dick sometimes he would say I had hallucinated it or that I was delusional and making things up or overreacting!! Every time! It made me feel insane! Until I stopped trying to talk to him about that stuff!! And if he wasn’t blaming my psychosis for my overreacting he blamed the drugs! And then he didn’t even let me take my anti psychosis meds!! Because he said it was making my delusions worse!! And y’know I didn’t trust my brain anymore ‘cause of him so I just went alone with it!! Which is so stupid and very mean of him!!! Very mean!!!”

Janus held back the immense urge to call Oswald a gaslightning asshole “Wow. Him being able to have his head shoved so far up his own ass for so long oxygen stopped coming to his brain making him an immensely stupid piece of fuck is almost impressive. Almost”

“He called me broken”

Janus opened his mouth to respond. To comfort. He tried to think of what to say. But Remus cut him off before he had a chance.

“Can you stay here tonight? Sleep here I mean?”

“Of course. If you want me to”

“I want you to”

“Okay”

“I know you don’t like me sleeping in my binder but I will freak out less if I do”

“I understand. But you better take it off the moment I leave tomorrow. You have to let your ribs relax”

“I’m aware”

The lights were already off. Remus threw the blanket over the two of them and sunk down against the pillow. He looked over and his breathe caught in his throat when he saw the way Janus’ hair spread out over the pillow. Like a beautiful crown. Even in the dark he still awed at his features. The soft jawline, the miscolored dark eyes, the patches of black and light skin woven together.

He noticed how Janus kept his distance. Their weary eyes carefully looking at him. They moved their hand closer and he nodded to show it was okay. So they let their arm lay over his stomach, like a lazy embrace.

They let out a relaxed sigh and closed their eyes, they were shyly smiling. Until they noticed Remus shaking. They looked over to him and saw tears pricking at the edges of his eyes.

“Are you okay? Is this-”

“It’s nothing. It’s just- It’s been a while since I shared a bed with someone” He sniffled out “This is...it’s nice...I trust you Janus. I really do. I didn’t think I would trust anyone like I trust you ever again. I hope you sleep well. I hope all the blood in your body also sleeps well”

“Goodnight to you too”

“Goodnight...sleep tight.....don’t let the cowboys bite.....Have sweet dreams about monsters...And fuckers”

Janus managed to get out some mumble. His eyelids were heavy and the bed so incredibly soft. Remus was still shaking when he fell asleep.

A few hours later he woke up. Quiet conversations came from the other room and light shone in through under the door. Everything was blurry for a few moments as he tried to remember where he was.

He looked over to his side and was met with Remus wide puppy eyes staring at him. There were dark circles under his eyes and a small smile on his lips. They were crammed close together under the blanket. With Janus’ arms around him.

“You’re awake” Remus murmured out.

“It’s a miracle. Truly”

Remus didn’t seem to make an attempt to move away so Janus didn’t either. They leant their head against his shoulder and relaxed. Saying good morning to the others could wait. meeting Logan’s parents could wait.

They couldn’t help but notice how ruffled Remus’ hair was. And how his voice was a bit rougher than usual. His half open eyes. It made them feel all jelly like inside.

“Did you sleep well?” They asked.

“Yeaaah babey! I slept an entire hour!!!” Remus exclaimed “Before being woken up by a nightmare and like shaking for a while but having you near actually calmed me down!! Sleeping an entire hour!!! With someone beside me!! Who isn’t Rowan!!! I’m kinda proud of myself!”

Janus didn’t get why it was a big deal but he still grinned and agreed “I’m proud of you too”

“Aww snakey. Oh speaking of snakes we gotta say good morning to Ms. Carl. She’s been knocking”

“MS. CARL!”

Janus had jumped up from the bed within a second. They took Remus’ hand and pulled him out into the living room. Logan, Patty and Rowan were sitting by the couches eating dinner. Ms. Carl was laying right outside the door waiting for her new owner.

Jan promptly hunched down and pulled her into his warm arms. He snuggled his face right into her very long snake stomach before kissing her on her snoot.

“Hello my sweet angel. Light of my life. My favorite little rope”

“Good morning darling mine” Logan greeted from the couch.

“Oh” Janus looked up from the snake “Hello second light of my life”

“I hope you slept well” Logan did an absolutely not subtle at all wink after saying it.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!” Patty yelled out. She was vibrating in her seat. Somehow she had on an even more Christmas dress than the already very red and very fluffy dress she had had on yesterday. She had a santa hat and all.

“Merry Christmas” Everyone replied to her.

Remus jumped onto the couch and slumped down right next to his sister. He started to whisper in spanish to her. They both got really excited and kept looking over to Janus while talking.

With each moment that went by not cuddled up next to his crush Janus got more and more aware that is was Christmas and that he was meeting his boyfriend’s parents today. All while eating breakfast and getting ready he got more and more zoned out and anxious.

No mater how many kisses or hand squeezes Logan gave him it didn’t help. Not even letting Ms. Carl wrap all around him helped.

He stood by the door all spaced out as Rowan and Patty kissed and hugged goodbye for like 5 minutes. They kept throwing gushy compliments and promises of dates at each other and avoided actually saying goodbye. Ro was after all flying back to filming in Canada tomorrow.

Remus bonked his head against Janus’ shoulder which forced them out of worry land. “Want me to babysit Ms. Carl until you come back? I got some dead rats I found along the road!! So don’t worry about me feeding her!! I got it!! I love seeing her eat!! I can keep finding dead animals for her if you want me to! It’s a great hobby!”

“Mhm thanks” He handed Ms. Carl over.

“Uhm hug?”

Janus didn’t respond. he just fell forward slightly and let Remus catch him in an embrace. Until Logan took his partner’s hand and told him it was time to go.

“Don’t forget to take off your binder, And call me if you need help stopping yourself from a relapse of any kind” Was the last thing Janus mumbled before leaving the apartment. “And remember the monsterfucker thing!”

(Rowan was dramatically waving a napkin around as they left. She and her brother would spend all Christmas watching movies and eating chinese takeout, and also gushing out about the sharing bed with Janus thing)

The trio got into the car. Patty took the wheel while Logan shotgunned. Janus crumpled up like a piece of paper in the backseat. He lightly banged his forehead against the car window.

The married couple did hand paper scissor if they were going to listen to a Patty podcast or a Logan podcast. Lo won. He started a podcast about geographical stone science.

“Uhm darlings” Janus quietly said to get their attention.

They both glanced back at him “Car sickness?” “Flu?” They asked at the same time.

“No sickness. Now when we are going over to your parent’s place...Could you please only use he/him for me?”

Both of their expression softened. Logan reached out and took their hand “Honey I promise they won’t mind”

Patty nodded along “I promise they never minded my change of pronouns. You really don’t have to worry”

“I would still feel better if you only used he/him. Meeting them while they from the start know I’m gay already feels quite worrying to me. I think them knowing I’m gay and genderqueer would give me an actual aneurysm”

Logan gave them a quick kiss “If that honestly help you then sure, you can change your mind at any time”

Patty started the car and the conversation quieted. Janus sighed as houses and trees went by. He looked over to you and whispered

“Excuse me for venting for a moment, I Know you don’t know Logan’s parents and neither do I. And that is kind of the problem. I am honestly really anxious that they will hate me. My parents disliked me so why shouldn’t his. I know they won’t break me and Logan up or anything but it’s still worrying. I’m sorry. I’m bringing the mood down.....I hope it goes well...I hope.....I am quite a hateable person aren’t I? They will probably hate me? Oh god. I am going to hell tonight aren’t I? This isn’t going to go well. This is going to go horrible. You all better come to my funeral at least!”

#ask #yeah im gonna count this as just a kinda long ask #thanks for the ask <3 #dukeceit #sanders sides

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melwritesstufff · 4 years

Note

Hiya your Tim drake imagine was *chefs kiss* lovely and I was wondering if you'd do a Damian or Tim x reader where they introduce their so to the batfam and the reader is like drop dead gorgeous and the batfam spend the whole time asking reader tf their doing with him (if you don't feel like it das cool) :))

hi thank you so much for the request! I did this for Tim since I feel like I have a bit of a better understanding of his character than I do Damian. sorry this is also a bit shorter than expected, the end was a bit rushed.

Tim Drake x reader - Gorgeous

warnings - making out, flirting, a little bit of angst

word count - 3200

requested - yes

“Babe, how do I look?” I turned, showing my knee length red dress to my boyfriend. It was a simple look, not too basic to make me appear boring, but not too many accessories to make me seem snobby or obsessed with looks. I had planned the outfit weeks in advance of this event, yet I was still worrying my head off.

“You look amazing, as usual.” He responded.

It was just like any other ordinary day. Except that it wasn’t. Today was the day of the dinner. I mean the dinner. The dinner that all relationships have eventually. The terrifying dinner where you finally meet your lovers parents. In this case though, I think I have it worse than any other ordinary person. You see, my boyfriend is Tim Drake. Yes, the Tim Drake. Son of Bruce Wayne. And brother to… a whole lot of people.

I mean don’t get me wrong, I love Tim. A lot. I would do anything to make him happy, and if that means meeting his terrifying and rich family? Then so be it. I just hope I don’t screw anything up.

“Are you sure? I mean is it too casual? You said it wasn’t fancy but I don’t want to be the only one there in basic clothing… What if we show up and they’re all in suits! I mean, i can’t-” Tim interrupted me.

“Darling, you’re going to be just fine. They may seem intimidating but I promise you they’re going to love you. No need to worry.” He walked up to me, placing his right hand on the side of my cheek, caressing the skin with his thumb. He then scrunched his nose in what appeared to be.. concern? Worry? I wasn’t sure.

“Actually, scratch that thought. I’m the one who I should be worried. My brothers might steal you from me.” He turned away from me, his expression clearly displaying worry and fear.

“That’s nonsense, Timmy. I want to be with you, not any of your brothers.” Looking back I should have made a larger effort to cease his negative feelings and doubt, but I didn't know any better.

He looked at me, the worry disappearing from his eyes, almost completely. There was still a hint of it there, but I brushed it off as just nerves. We were both nervous. Just for different reasons.

“Yeah, alright babe.” He smiled at me. I smiled back. I turned to the door and grabbed by purse, slipping on my shoes simultaneously. I turned to Tim who was fixing his hair in the circular mirror hanging on the wall near the front door.

“You wanna head out? It’s almost time for the dinner.” He grabbed the keys, opening the front door for me, then doing the same when we reached the car. My cheeks heating up. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how sweet Tim is.

I avoided his cocky smirk and as we both got seated, Tim started driving us to the mansion. Hopefully, this wouldn’t turn out as a disaster.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Hello Master Drake. I presume this is the y/n I’ve heard so much about?” Tim and I arrived at the mansion door, only to find their butler, Alfred, already waiting for us out front with the door opened. We paused for a bit as Tim and Alfred conversed.

“Yup, this is her Alfred. Are Dick and them here yet?” Tim looked over Alfred’s shoulder to peak into the huge home. Curiously, I also tried to peak over the older man’s shoulder but saw nothing as Tim was in my way.

“Yes sir, they just arrived a few minutes ago. I presume you shall find them in the main room, probably breaking something I’ll have to clean up later.” I chucked a bit as Alfred made a subtly annoyed look. I felt obligated to say something, so I separated from Tim as he walked into the doorway, entering the hallway.

“Um, hello. Thank you for opening up the door for us.” Alfred smiled at my thanks. While it is his job as a butler, there’s no harm in saying thank you, right?

“It’s my pleasure, Miss l/n. And thank you for taking care of Master Drake. He has been significantly happier in recent times.” I blushed at the butler's words. I knew Tim didn’t always have the best habits but did I really have that much of a positive impact on him? Quite frankly though, it was nice hearing about Tim from his family members, and how he’s happy.

“Oh it’s no problem! I love Tim, I’m glad I could help.” I brushed a strand of hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

“Y/n? Come on, you must be getting cold out there.” I turned at the sound of my boyfriend's voice, it was getting a bit chilly and I was only wearing a dress, no sweater or leggings.

“Oh, that’s my call, bye Alfred! I hope to talk to you more soon.” Alfred stepped aside, giving me access to walk through the open doorway. I turned back a bit, waving towards Alfred.

“Likewise, Miss l/n” I cringed a bit at the honorary title. I wasn’t a member of the family or household. The title ‘Miss l/n’ just didn’t feel appropriate or right.

“Oh do please call me y/n.” I waved off the butler, hoping he would respect my wishes.

“Likewise, Miss y/n” i huffed a bit at his stubbornness, but chuckled and walked deeper into the large place, the sound of Alfred closing the door behind me.

So far this has gone well, maybe I was worried for no reason.

“Wait, you’re Tim’s girlfriend? You?” I was suddenly bombarded by two older men and their abundance of questions as soon as I entered what I assumed to be the main living room. It was quite scary, to be completely honest. Not only were they Tim’s family but they were both very large men, clearly very fit.

“Ye-yeah. We’ve been together for about 4 months now.” I stuttered, stepping a few inches back as I tried to get myself some space away from the two men.

One was a bit more aggressive than the other, he had a lot of scars and seemed to be very flirtatious. He was the taller and more muscular out of the two, with aquamarine eyes. I assumed he was Jason, Tim mentioned a few times that he was a “stupid brute” with “stupid scars” after he arrived at home after what he said was an argument with Jason during patrol.

The other I assumed was Dick, he was a bit kinder, and seemed effortlessly flirtatious, unlike the other who was purposely trying to flirt with me. Dick, I’m guessing, had more greyish-blue toned eyes and had very dark hair. Regardless of how handsome both the brothers were, they were far from my type. Their strong flirting and comments on my appearance was, quite frankly, off putting.

“But.. why?” Jason propped his elbow against the wall they had backed me into.

“Uhm, what do you mean.. ‘why’?” I hesitantly answered. Slowly becoming less nervous and more annoyed.

“I mean, you’re gorgeous. And Tim’s.. well, Tim.” Dick stood to the right of me, leaning on the same wall Jason was propped up on. He chucked a bit.

“I.. don’t follow.” I raised an eyebrow in confusion, they were Tim’s brothers. They should know how amazing he is and should be supportive of his relationships, not trying to dissect how he got into the relationship.

“Princess, why date that nerd when you could be with me?” I turned to the left, Jason leaning down and getting a bit too close to comfort, at this point I saw Tim scoff a bit as he left the room. I frowned a bit but then was distracted as Dick pushed Jason back and got even closer than his younger brother.

“Or, instead of being with a nerd like Tim, or a total brute like Jason over here, you could be with me.. I’m a total gentleman.” I scoffed shuffled to the side a bit, averting close contact with the tall man.

“Well, I highly doubt that seeing as your name is literally Dick.” He looked taken back, and went from way to close to me, to leaning back against the wall. Muttering something about “Is my name that bad?” or something along those lines.

“Pft- she’s feisty. How’d you score a total 10 like her Tim?” Jason turned around only to see Tim was nowhere to be found. I noticed it too, but took the sudden silence as a chance to defend not only myself, but my boyfriend.

“And I’m perfectly happy with Tim, for your information. I have no need for dating anyone other than him. Especially not his brothers, adopted or otherwise.” The two looked taken back at my sudden lecture.

“Don’t you think it’s also a bit unethical and immoral to be flirting with your brother's girlfriend? I was so worried about impressing you all, but now that I see how immature you all are I see that there was no need for worry. You are all easily impressed children.” The two looked embarrassed as they stepped back, both going to sit on the couch as the youngest chucked at them and their stupidity.

“Tt, maybe you’re ok…possibly s bit too good for Drake though.” I looked at the child who gave such a big attitude and he looked no older than 13, there was only one candidate for who he could have been.

“You must be Damian right? I've heard a lot about you. You can do some pretty impressive stuff, huh? I’ve been told you’re more than a bit mean though. I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped terrorizing my boyfriend.” I bent down a bit, to get more to his level. Height-wise and respect-wise.

“... I’ll think about it.” According to what I’ve heard from Tim, that was about the best response I could have gotten out of the little gremlin. He ‘tt’ed and looked away, his sky blue eyes holding a glint of what I saw as respect.

“Ok. Thanks.” I smiled and turned around, meeting the eyes of Alfred as he walked through another entry to the right of where I came in through.

“Hello again, Miss y/n.” He smiled at me

“Oh! Hello again Alfred!”

“I came in to announce that dinner is being served in the dining hall. I suggest you all hurry before the food gets cold.”

“So, y/n, how’d you end up so gorgeous? Were you just born so beautiful?”

Dinner had just ended. Everyone had stayed at the table, besides Mr. Wayne who couldn't make it due to a ‘business emergency’, and we all made small talk. Unfortunately, my mini speech earlier was not enough to drive the two oldest brothers from asking me odd questions and borderline flirting with me. This time Tim was sitting right next to me, looking more annoyed with each question. I tried my best to stay respectful though, as they are still Tim’s family.

“Oh uhm, thank’s Dick.. uh I-“ my response was cut off as Tim got up, grabbing my hand and dragging me away from the rest of his family.

“Let’s go, y/n” I looked at Tim’s face and he looked more upset than i had ever seen him.

“Wh- what? Tim, babe, where are we going?” While I was a bit grateful, there was still a part of me that felt a bit nervous about our sudden leaving and the impression it would have.

As I let Tim pull me, we entered an unfamiliar room. I assumed it was his as it smelled faintly of his cologne. He let go of my wrist and shut the door. Walking over to the bed in the middle of the room, sitting down and resting his head in his hands. I followed his steps and sat down next to him. The silence killed me. The words that he spoke after though killed me even more.

“... I mean, they’re right you know..” his voice was slightly muffled by his hands but i could still hear the crack in his voice.

“What?” I stared down at the hairs on his head, not being able to see his face.

“They’re right to ask why you’re with me,” he looked up at me, his eyes watery and lips slightly quivering. He was insecure. I should have realized it earlier when he got worried about his brothers stealing me from him. Or when his brothers actually tried to steal me from him and he just walked away. He continued as I was wallowed with guilt.

“You’re an amazing person, y/n. You’re smart and funny and are good with people. You’re naturally friendly and people are just drawn towards you. Not to mention you’re incredibly gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. But me? I’m none of those things. I’m not amazing like you, or any of my brothers. I’m not good with people and charming like Dick. I’m not brave and strong like Jason. I’m not incredibly skilled and widely faceted like Damian. I’m not even that good looking. You’re an amazing, wonderful person. I love you so much. I just.. I don't understand why you would reciprocate and stay with me. You could have so much better. You cou-“ i interrupted him before he started crying. There were tears in his eyes and I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed to tell him I love him and reassure him before his insecure thoughts broke the both of us.

“I’m going to stop you right there. I love you, Tim. I love you. Not Dick, not Jason, and certainly not Damian, I mean he’s a child, that’s gross. You are so much more than what you give yourself credit for. You may not be like your brothers, but you have your own strengths. You are the smartest person I know. And it’s bullshit that you say you're not charming or handsome, because you charmed me the second I saw you. You remember? How I got your order completely wrong because I wasn't paying attention when you ordered? Because you were just so fine that i was stunned?” He chucked a bit, gently grabbing and caressing my hand.

“You didn’t even make me coffee, you just put coffee beans in the cup and drizzled caramel syrup over it.” He softly chuckled.

I used my unoccupied hand to caress his cheek, wiping the tears from his eyes. Continuing my speech, I scooted closer towards him on the bed, our legs pressed against each other and our faces almost touching.

“Yeah, I’m not as perfect as you think. And that’s ok! We all have faults, Tim. We just have to find the people whose faults are worth looking past. And you’re that person for me, Tim. I love you so much. You’re smart, funny, not to mention handsome. You can solve an incredibly complex case in less than an hour. You can learn at an incredibly fast pace. You are incredible at the things you do. Hell, you’re even a vigilante! You go out every night and protect thousands of people! You have a huge abundance of skills. Who cares if Damian has ‘more’ skills or ‘better’ skills. I don’t. Because it’s you I want. Not Dick, not Jason, not anybody else. You’re an amazing person, more amazing than you think I am, and I’m willing to bet way more amazing than your brothers as well. I mean, who was the one who lifted Bruce up out of his depression when Dick hated him and Jason died? You. You did that. Who forgave me after I completely forgot how to make coffee the first time I met you. You. Who’s the one who’s dating me? You. You’re the one I want and the one I love. I honestly need you Tim. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I could never do better because there’s nobody better than you.” I pecked Tim on the lips for extra reassurance and leaned back a bit, looking into his eyes that were watering once more. Hopefully out of joy instead of sadness.

“... you really mean all that?” He spoke softly, voice still a bit weak and raspy from the crying. His eyes were red and puffy, and his lips were slightly swollen. It broke my heart to see him so upset.

“Of course Timmy, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” I leaned in and kissed him, once again. This time, it lasted much longer than a simple peck.

It was sweet and soft. I could taste the tears that had run onto Tim’s lips, giving him a salty aftertaste. He deepened it, grabbing my waist and pulling me so close our torsos were touching. I could feel him smile into the kiss, and I’m sure he felt me do the same. Before we both ran out of breath, Tim broke off the kiss. This created a comfortable silence that followed, until he finally spoke.

“... thank you, y/n. I love you. I can’t express with words how much I adore and am amazed by everything you do, are, and stand for.” Our faces were still close and as he whispered these words i could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

“Can’t express it with words, huh? Well I guess you’ll just have to show me then huh.” I smirked and leaned back a bit, teasing the boy sitting across from me. He paused for a second, looking taken aback, until he shook it off and leaned closer to me.

“I guess so, huh, why don’t you come here so I can show you?“ In that moment, the both of us crashed into each other, turning the sweet moment into a flirtatious make out session.

“Well, now we have our answer. She’s perfect for him.” Dick looked at Jason as he spoke, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, we’ll have to explain and apologize to both of them later but, it was worth it.” The two looked back into the room through the cracked open door. They both cringed and backed up a bit as they saw their brother completely making out with his girlfriend.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to spy on their brother... Maybe flirting with his girlfriend wasn’t the best idea either. No matter why they did it.

“Tt, you’re both dumbasses. You didn’t need to flirt with her to get her to prove her loyalty. There are other ways of doing it.” The youngest brother, Damian, popped up leaning on the wall opposite from Tim’s door. The two older brothers looked back at him in suspicion.

“Oh yeah, like what?” Damian raised his eyebrow and scoffed like the answer was so obvious.

“Put her in a high risk situation where she would have to risk her life to save him. That’s true dedication.” He said it as if it was nothing. The three boys all looked at each other in an awkward silence until Jason finally spoke up.

“.. you have issues, kid.”

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feed-your-neopets · 4 years

Text

Valdemar x Devil!Lucio Fluff (One-shot)

Writer Preface:

First, I haven’t written fanfiction in years. Nor have I read a book recently. So, don’t feel bad about pointing out grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this. Also, my knowledge of the science and medical world is pitiful. Please, let me know if I said something ridiculous.

Second, it is cannon that Lucio has a New Jersey accent. It may enhance the story to imagine him with it, because I did while writing this.

Third, this is just slow, awkward, fluffy Valdemar x Lucio stuff. I was trying to piece together how a relationship could even develop between them, and I love the challenge of unlikely, cursed pairings. I was thinking this would probably take place in Muriel’s route (so, smoll SPOILERS from this point on). I would think Lucio’s social circle would be dwindling since – ya know – he merged with the Devil and all. Lucio would definitely be longing for friendship and companionship. Valdemar will humor him if it means they get new things to study. Get that bag, Valdemar.

---

The salon was one of the few rooms left in the palace where one could find some peace. Ironic, as this room was once one of the livelier places in the palace. After all, the salon was where Countess Nadia would entertain her guests. Now, it was an echo of its former self.

Since his resurrection and merging with the boss, Count Lucio ran with a different crowd, and these new guests had a habit of “borrowing”. Not that Valdemar cared about the state of the rooms throughout the palace, nor the drunkards who sloppily paraded through the hallways with pockets full of silverware. However, the room was simply lacking. It was not quite the same without Countess Nadia’s fingers gliding across the ivory keys with precision and grace. Instead of the haunting melodies of a grand piano and the idle chatter of the other courtiers, the room was filled with the distant echoes of intoxicated partygoers reciting a rather impolite folk song about a sea captain’s cousin.

However, Valdemar was paying little attention to the commotion outside and quietly sipped their tea. They chose instead to focus on the decorating choices they felt were an improvement. For example, the dying flowers wilting in waterless vases were a nice touch. Additionally, the portrait that Count Lucio had commissioned in his mother’s likeness had some alterations. It was laying waste on the ground below where it was once proudly hung. The vandalism was done with such intention that Valdemar was certain the count had crossed out the eyes himself. Valdemar pondered if he had done so in a fit of rage. The count had such a temper, and judging from his interaction with his mother, there was a lot of emotional baggage to unpack. While the symbolism was a tad on the nose, Valdemar appreciated the irony none-the-less. It was Lucio who murdered his own mother. It was only fitting he should be the one to remove the light from her portrait’s eyes too.

Without much warning, the doors of the salon burst open with a bang; shaking the few portraits that still hung on the walls. Yet, Valdemar sat unflinching despite the abrupt entrance from the count.

“Alright, I’ll catch you guys later.” called Count Lucio to a chorus of guttural cheers and whooping from the end of the hall. Valdemar peered at the count from over their teacup as they took a long sip. They had been wondering what was taking the count so long. He had been the one who had requested a meeting with them. To keep them waiting seemed in poor taste.

“Crazy guys.” chucked Lucio to himself before turning his attention to Valdemar. “Hey, there you are! Where have you been? You weren’t at last night’s party. You missed Vulgora tackling several new recruits. You should have seen them go at it. We were taking bets and everything.”

“Hm.” hummed Valdemar as they peered into their teacup, finding more interest in the way the tea leaves settled to the bottom of their cup than Lucio’s story. However, Lucio did not seem to notice as he reenacted the punches and kicks of last night’s tussle; knocking over a chair in the process. “But hey, don’t worry about missing it. They’ll probably do it again tomorrow night. You’re gonna love it.”

“I am sure, my count.” lied Valdemar.

Lucio seemed convince Valdemar was genuine, and with an exaggerated groan, he slumped into the chair next to them. Valdemar watched as he adjusted the scabbard on his waist, the end of which clanked aggressively on the hardwood floor. His legs then spread out for maximum comfort as he sunk into his seat. It would seem he was finally situated, and he looked merrily back at Valdemar expecting them to speak first. The quaestor closed their eyes. Admittedly, their patience was wearing thin. With a short sigh, they placed their teacup on the table and prepared themselves to address the count.

“Is there a reason you have called me here today, my count?” asked Valdemar as politely as they could muster.

A spark of realization lit in Lucio’s eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right! I gotcha something.” said Lucio as he started rummaging through a small satchel. “I felt like we left it kinda weird at that old broad’s house, and I been wanting to make it up to you.”

“Old broad?” whispered Valdemar to themself as they searched their lexicon for a translation.

“Yeah, you remember. I gave you her heart. I was weird about it, but you were just asking for your payment.” explained the count. “It is nothing amazing, really. You probably have twenty of ‘em, but I was traveling through the market, and I saw it, and I thought - do you know who would like this? Quaestor Valdemar - so, I got it. No big deal, ya know?”

From his bag, Lucio pulled out an adult human skull. Embedded in the eye sockets were large rubies that burned in the orange glow of the setting sun. The count placed his gift in Valdemar’s hand, who made quick note of the condition in which the skull was in. In short, it was nearly perfect. The dental work was most fascinating to Valdemar. Not a single tooth was crooked or missing. No sign of disease or decay. Whoever extracted this specimen knew what they were doing. Valdemar was so transfixed by the skull, they almost forgot Lucio was still in the room.

“Yeah, I thought you like that.” said Lucio as he leaned forward in his chair. “I got that off a guy who was selling all kinds of wild, kooky stuff.”

Valdemar was quiet as they studied the skull. They were far more impressed by the specimen itself than the embellishments. Gemology was not at the top of their list of the most appealing subjects, and frankly, they thought the rubies were rather gaudy.

As they pondered the feasibility of extracting the gemstones without damaging the bone, a visibly nervous Lucio shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the silence between them.

“I -uh- I got it because the eyes remind me of your eyes.” said Lucio. As the words left his mouth, he instantly wished he had just swallowed them instead. He was not prepared for Valdemar's undivided attention. Their eyes were fixed on Lucio. Their expression was blank. Their entire form was eerily motionless. He immediately felt the need to elaborate. “Ya know, because the rubies are pretty - pretty like your eyes.”

To Lucio’s relief, the compliment was enough to break their stare. No one had ever called their eyes pretty before. Creepy. Unsettling. Unnatural. But never pretty. Pretty was a meaningless word. Pretty was objective. Pretty could not be measured. Pretty was unscientific. Yet, the word bounced around in their mind, unextrapolated and uncategorized. Valdemar wanted to dissect its meaning. They wanted Lucio to elaborate. What did it mean to have pretty eyes?

"Hey, is that thing broken?" asked Lucio. who had unknowingly grounded Valdemar from their slow spiral into the definition and interpretation of the word pretty.

"Pardon?" asked Valdemar.

"Did that bastard give me a busted skull?" asked Lucio gesturing to a fissure starting from the bottom of the eye socket across the cheekbone.

Realizing what the count was referring to Valdemar had to stifle a laugh. "No, that is a zygomaticomaxillary suture. You'll notice the second one, right here." They turned the skull to allow Lucio to see the other fissure reflected on the other cheekbone.

"Oh, so it's okay then? It's not broken?" asked Lucio.

"This specimen is in excellent condition." reassured Valdemar. A moment passed between them before the quaestor softly cleared their throat, and managed a polite thank you to the count. They fully intended to investigate the skull further for any clues of what may have lead to the specimen’s demise. They loved a good mystery. Afterwords, it would look lovely in their display cabinet - pretty ruby eyes and all.

“Right, so that guy I got this skull from. He has other things too. Goopy things in jars. Dead things in jars. Dead things out of jars. Drawings of bones and meaty parts. Books. Does any of that sound interesting to you?” asked Lucio.

Valdemar considered Lucio’s offer before replying, “I suppose that I am always in search for new specimens to add to my collection. Additionally, this could be an opportunity to ask the merchant where the rest of the remain’s of this specimen can be found.”

Their response seemed to greatly please the count as he leaned back in his chair. For the past few nights, he had done nothing but party - which he loved to do, and would surely want to do again - but sitting with Valdemar, as the sun lowered into the horizon felt nice. Not to mention, they knew a lot, which Lucio appreciated. Having them around could be quite helpful to keeping his kingdom. Additionally, he was curious as to what was under their bandages. His money was on horns, but it would be fun to confirm his suspicions.

“Great, I’ll take you down there sometime.” said Lucio. “And, if you see anything you like, consider it yours.”

While material possessions never interested Valdemar, the idea of discovering something new was quite alluring. Perhaps, the merchant had a sealed jar of an entirely forgotten disease, or maybe they would uncover an ancient tomb that described a real account of an unsolved death of an entire village. The more they thought about it, the more exciting the prospect became.

“Would now be an appropriate time?” asked Valdemar who had moved to the edge of their seat. Their body was stiff with anticipation, as they leaned over ever so slightly towards him. A coy smile spread on Lucio’s face. He knew the moment he agreed, Valdemar would be sprinting for the door. Frankly, it seemed cruel to make them wait another moment for his answer.

“I’ll have someone fetch two cloaks and a carriage.”

END.

#lucio x valdemar #devil!lucio x valdemar #valdemar x lucio #valdemar x devil!lucio #lucio #count lucio #devil!lucio #lucio the arcana #valdemar #quaestor valdemar #valdemar the arcana #courtiers #the courtiers #fluff #one shot #one-shot #fanfic #fanfiction

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kidflash7689 · 3 years

Text

Body Language

gojo x oc

fluff and slice of life

warnings: mentions of blood, violence

Shoko just looked at Ai with shame. It was what? Day 16 of them coming in with avoidable injuries. She just shoved alcohol and cotton swabs in their face and went back to dissecting... whatever the mishappen thing she was dissecting.

“Oh shut up Shoko” Shoko scoffed.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“But you gave me that look.”

“You deserved that look.” Ai just folded their arms over their chest like a child. Trial and error right? It had to work someday.

“You keep getting yourself hurt when you know damn well that it can be avoided. Your the best at taijutsu at Jujutsu tech and you’re acting like your below Gojo. You think your plan is working, but all you’re doing is stroking his ego and bruising yours!” Shoko scolded

So Ai had a little problem. Or a big problem. Depends how you at look it. How big is a problem if you have a crush and the only way you know how to get close to them again is to fight them? Sounds stupid to Shoko but it made perfect sense in the inner workings of Ai’s mind.

“I’m using the bully approach.” Ai retorted, childishly hoisting their noise in the air.

“Life is not a romance novel. You’re not going to have an enemies to lovers arc with him,” she said, flatly.

“Says who?”

“And besdies, you’re the one who’s being bullied, look at your face.” Ai had two bloody cotton balls up their nose.

The bigger problem here really was Ai’s lack of ability to communicate their feelings. Ai has been in love with Gojo Satoru since they fought a special grade curse together in their 1st year at jujutsu tech. Ai truly believed that you could see inside someone’s heart when seeing how they fought. Fighting was a language to them. They could tell a lot from someone just by the way they fought. Seeing someone throw a punch was no different from reading a poem or listening to a song. It was all art to them. So when Ai saw Gojo fight against that special grade, they saw a new side to him. He was a bit clumsy, he had no grace. He was imperfect. Ai had a soft spot for imperfection, but underneath the blunders Ai observed, they saw freedom. Ai fell in love with the carefree way Gojo fought. Gojo didn’t care that his movements were sometimes awkward or his stance was off, he didn’t care and Ai knew this and they loved it. They found him perfect. It was a certain joy he radiated when he knew he had the upperhand. And to top it off, Ai’s and Gojo’s cursed technique paired with their fighting style meshed well like a bee to a flower during spring. It was meant to be. Their teamwork was superb. Ai fell for him in battle.

It’s been a minute since Ai has been at Jujutsu Tech. Princiapl Yaga decided that the school needed to be more strict on taijutusu training for the students and instructors at jujutsu tech were encouraged to volunteer their time, with pay of course, to help students who needed more help with hand-to-hand combat. The announcement was very ‘convenient’ to Ai. It was made shortly after they got back from a close call with a special grade.

“Anyways, are you going to take Yaga up on the taijutsu volunteer proposition?”

Ai scratched behind his ear. “I’ll think about it?”

“Really?” She was smirking now. “Because according to your last six sparring sessions with Gojo, you needed his ‘expertise’ to refine your skills after your injury to make sure you were ‘suited’ to the position.”

Ai just sighed. “Why are you really trying to spar with Gojo, Ai? Hm?” Shoko leaned in hands in Ai’ face, they turned away.

“Your hands smell like cursed spirit, get them out of my face.” Shoko chucked a laugh and removed the gloves she was wearing. “And I told you, it’s because I like him. I’m doing my enemies to lovers thing.”

Shoko hummed. “Sure it is,” she mumbled.

“What’d you say?” Ai questioned.

“Nothing, get out of my office.” Ai rolled their eyes and left, bloody cotton swabs in nose and all.

After graduating from jujutsu tech, Ai had to get out of Japan. They loved it, of course, but Gojo’s unrequited love for them coupled with their wanderlust led Ai to travel. Ai dabbled in various cultures fighting styles andfought their share of cursed spirits, so when they came back to Japan, they had developed a whole new form of fighting. They’d settled down in Japan again and even became a Jujutsu Tech instructor.

Two weeks ago, Ai was happened upon an unregistered cursed spirit which turned out to be a special grade in Shinjuku. At first, the cursed spirit gave them no trouble, it wasn’t even exhibiting signs of intelligence or being able to manipulate cursed energy.

“Let me end this quickly.” Ai picked up the pace and worked the cursed spirit, But it, adapted? Ai sent a flying kick packed with cursed energy and it landed. The spirit raised back up and did the same.

“Wait a minute... you’re mimicking me? It’s responding to my level of expertise.” Ai was being sluggish in the beginning, gauging the curses power, but when they raised their level, so did it. Like a mirror.

For over an hour, whatever the curse throw at them, it just threw back. Ai was tired. On their last legs, Ai ran towards the curse tiredly, but the curse was better. It had raised its level past theirs, or Ai’s level just dropped. Whatever it was.The curse restrained their leg and kicked at his shin so hard it broke.

Ai screamed in pain. In a last bought to win. They uttered those words.

“Ryoiki Tenkai.” All of of their energy was put into this. “Copy this you freak!” then the battle was decided, but they passed out as soon as the domain was deactivated.

A random bypasser found Ai and called the ambulance. No one at jujutsu tech was able to reach Ai since they didn’t know what hospital Ai was taken to. It took a few days until Ai came to after surgery. All of it was unneeded. All they needed was Shoko and her reversed curse technique. Ai finally was oriented enough to call Shoko and get her to the hospital they were at. Shoko healed them with their power. Ai took leave from Jujustsu tech for a while after that.

Now two weeks after the incident, Ai was off of leave and back to teaching at Jujutsu Tech again. And in their time there, they were introduced to a dead boy. Well, sort of dead. Secrelty dead. With all the new students they met, Ai liked to gauge their combat ability taking them to see a curse that was one grade below, same, and above the sorceror. That way, they can decontruct and observe their fighting style at different levels. Itadori was exceptional. He combined his superhuman strength and knowledge of Judo. Ai thought their knowledge on taijutus would’ve been redundant to Itadori. So as they sat in Shoko’s office, the doctor patching the boy up, Ai sang some praises for him.

“Itadori, I don’t really have much to say about your fighting style. You fight exceptionally. You have finesse.” Itadori’s eyes sparkled when he heard finesse. “But,” his face dropped dramatically, “You need to work on your output of cursed energy. But I don’t need to tell you that, I’m sure your sensei should have already. Right Gojo?” The mention of his name sparked his bubbly personality in gear. Gojo put his arm around Yuji excitedly and poked his cheek.

“Well of course I have told him. I’m such a great sensei aren’t I, right Itadori?” Itadori just laughed.

“I didn’t hear a no,” Gojo said, satisfied.

“I didn’t hear a yes,” Ai quickly quipped back. Shoko and itadori laughed along.

“Ai-Sensei, where did you learn to fight?”

“From all around the world. I learned from multiple cultures”

“Woaaah, so you’re like a jack of all trades?”

“So basically a master of none.” Gojo threw in.

“Actually,” Ai defended. “Master of all. From Kung Fu to Brazilian Capoeira I am simply a student of the world.”

“Brag much?” Gojo suggested.

“Oh please, they’re not bragging. It’s true. They can do everything.” Shoko cut in.

“Shoko stop. Anyways. Let’s go get some Mitarashi Dango Itadori. It’s a present for doing well against the cursed spirit today.”

The sweet-tooth giant smiled when he heard that. “Oh I’m coming!”

“Nope! Only people who recognize my martial arts prowess can get Dango with Itadori and I,” Ai joked.

“Awww please?”

“Well fine, But you’re treating!” Of course he was. He would always treat if Ai was involved. He never minded. He’d do anything when it came to Ai, which is also why he couldn’t understand why after coming back from leave, why they asked for help in hand-to-hand combat so they could be the proper mentor for the volunteer taijutsu instructor.” With all their ‘martial arts prowess’ ask him for help? but he just said yes. They were spending time together. Three times a week, sparring. He could ask for nothing more than that. Sometimes when they would spar, they would mess up on the simplest things and fall on their ass. When he asked how they fell for that, they just replied,

“You’re just the strongest, I guess.” And he’d go along with it.

One time when they were schedueld to spar, he caught them practicing the art of Capoeira. Ai practiced many forms of martial arts and Gojo has seen many of them throughout the years, but Capoeria was by far his favorite to see them practice. When Ai practiced it, it was as majestic as the birds of Brazil where the martial art hailed from. And to top it off, they were less than dressed. He had to excuse himself for a minute.

The Dango spot was in a small corner of Tokyo, none of the tokyo kids would find out Itadori’s status there. The three took there seats in a booth. Itadori headed to the bathroom, leaving the adults alone.

“Itadori’s a talented kid, you sure you’ll be able to nuture him?” Gojo grabbed his chest in fake astonishment. “Now would you have more faith in me?”

“Never.” Ai smiled, Smiled the bright smile that Gojo loved dearly.

“Where did you go when you were on leave.” Gojo asked.

Ai wasn’t expecting a question like that. “Nowhere, I was here in Tokyo.” “Really? I thought you left again.” I’m glad you stayed the country, but you could’ve called, he thought.

“Again? You mean back when we graduated. Oh no. It’s just that- After I had that fight with the special grade, I needed time to myself but I didn’t leave the country or anything.” You would’ve known if you called. They wanted to add.

Ai felt the atmosphere dip so they turned to nostalgia.

“Do you remember that special grade we fought in our first year?”

“Sheesh that curse that could transform into other people? It gave us some trouble. We had to find it first.” The waiter dropped off the drinks. “I specifically remember you correcting my fighting style in the middle of battle.” He wiped a happy tear and laugh.

“Well of course I would, you’re form was off! All sloppy and everything, we would have lost if not for my direction.” They would not have, but Ai liked to poke fun.

“I was so surprised at your priorities during battle, But you were so right. I knew then that you were going to be a teacher.” It was also the moment Ai fell for him and his sloppy stance. In the middle of their reminiscing, their hands inched together from across the booth table.

“You’re jus saying that.” Ai was flustered. Their pinkies touched.

“But one thing I don’t get.” The air of nostalgia gone. “Why you asked me to train you or better yet, why you would need my help? I mean your the best at taijutsu-”

“Gojo, I already told you because you’re the strongest nothing more, nothing less.” Before he could argue, Itadori came back from the bathroom.

“Let’s eat some Dango!”

“Let’s eat some dango.” Ai replied and moved their arm back.

Ai was not looking forward to the meeting Principal Yaga schedueled with them. Ai wasn’t the happiest with the principal at the moment.

Ai arrived in his office on time. They began with formalities. Their responses were quick, like a ping pong match.

“Hello Ai.”

“Principal Yaga.”

“How are you?”

“Good and you?”

“Fine. Lets get down to business.”

“i heard you took itadori yuji out to see some curses. Does that mean you are reconsidering the volunteer taijutsu proposition.”

“I do that with all the new students. I was watching him fight, not teaching. So no.”

“You already have one foot in the door, might as well enter. You off all people should know that making observations about combat is apart of teaching. And I know you gave him feedback.”

“Why do you want me to do this so badly?”

“Why do you not want to do this? It’s right up your lane?”

“Principal Yaga, Do you have to assign me anywhere now or-”

“Are you angry with me?”

“No why would I be angry?” It’s like the temputure in the room dropped.

“Because I keep asking you about volunteering.”

“A little frustrated, but not angry.”

“i think you’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Alright then prove it.” Yaga grabbed one of his cursed dolls and handed it Ai. “This doll will hit you every time you lie.”

Ai ket out a an exasperated sigh. “Alright. Shoot.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“No.” the doll punched Ai but they dodged.

“Okay then let me ask this: What’s so off putting about volunteering with the kids.?”

“Nothing.” Swing. Dodge.

“Okay then. Why are you sparring with Gojo?”

“Huh?” this question froze Ai.

“I said why are you training with Gojo?”

“Because-because, I need to better.” It was they could muster out. Swing. Connect. Ai was knocked over.

“Enough of this Ai-”

“ You’re right.” Ai leaves his office. Yaga sighs.

Ai has another meeting, or yet, a training with Gojo.

Ai met at the school dojo with Gojo. They kicked off thir rshoes, ready to go. Anxious even. “You ready” Gojo asked.

“I am. are you.” Ai leaped at Gojo, throwing punches and kicks at him, but he just dodged. “Why aren’t you fighting back,” Ai kept swingin and with the more swings the more frusutrated they got. “Do you not want to do this?” Ai stopped.

“I do. But do you?”

“Yes.” I Ai wiped the sweat of off their face.

Provoke them. Yagas voice appeared in Gojo’s head. Thats the only Ai will open up. The conversation of a few days ago coming back to him.

Gojo talked to Yaga about him training Ai and Yaga since Ai got back on the job a few weeks ago. They’re going to deflect with fighting, they need them to be direct with fighting. There fighting style will change when they get serious.

“If you’re not going to take this seriously then I’ll leave.” Ai turned to leave, then Gojo tripped them. “Is that how it is?” Slightly irritated, Ai took a stance and ran towards Gojo. Gojo blocked every kick and jab that came his way and sent some of his own, some of them landing.

“Thought you were better than that.” Ai tried again and again to land hits.”martial arts master my ass.”Ai grunted and attacked again, but to no avail. “I’m getting bored Ai.”

Ai backed off. Their head was spinning. What could they do throw Gojo off. Since when do I think this much when I fight? I need to calm down. Ai closed their eyes and breathed. Eyes opened with new determination. They took a new stance.

Their it is. Gojo thought.

With the grace he hadn’t seen in a long time, Ai came at him, punches and kicks more swift and calculated. More deadly than all the sessions put together. Gojo stumbled back and Ai took that oppurtunity to completely knock his balance by sweeping his feet. Ai straddled his waist and held a fist to his face.

“You were saying” They were both tired.both of their chests heaving up and down. “That mouth of yours-”

“When we were still students and we fought curses together, I thought I knew what beauty was when I saw you, but when you came back from your world tour, I saw you demonstrate the hurricanrana to Maki using Inumkai as your test subject. You were so...tantalizing, the way you move your body, the way you wrapped your legs around his head and took him down, it was so...it’s like flowing water.”

Was it the strenuous exercise they just did or his words that made it so hard to breathe in that moment?

“I can’t help but stare.” They removed their fist from his face. His words relaxing them.

“You told me once that you could read people from the way they battle. I think I’ve developed that habit of yours.” Ai gasped. What could he see in them that they hadn’t noticed in themselves. Gojo grabbed Ai’s wrist and slowly sat up, “So when you asked me to train you, I was so confused because what could you possibly learn from me?”

Gojo asked the burning question: “Now let me ask you again: why did you ask me to train you?”

A long time ago, Ai told gojo that you could tell a lot by a person by the way they fought. He didn’t understand what they meant back then, but he began to understand now. During a meeting with Principal Yaga, Ai’s name cam up.

“You notice Ai’s been acting weird lately?” Gojo mentioned. “Ever since they came back from leave.”

“They haven’t been as nice either. I mean’ the respect is always there, thats just eh kind of person they are, but as of late, they’re doing anything to get out of a room with me in it as fast as possible.”

“Is that so? They’ve been acting strange with me too. They asked me to train them. In taijutsu.” Ai wasn’t lying when they said how you fight says a lot about a person. Gojo noticed that when they sparred, Ai’s stance was closed off, crouched, like they were trying to hide something.

“Really? And you didn’t question it,” Yaga smirked. Gojo ignored it.

“Whatever. Something about wanting to be a better mentor when they take up the volunteer taijutsu training position.”

“What? They told me just a few days ago that they didn’t want to do it,” Yaga asked, confused. He just fiddled with his cursed dolls, confused about the inner workings of Ai’s mind.

“So they changed their mind?”

“I doubt it. They’re lying about something.”

“Lying? To whom?”

“Themself probably.”

Ai was dazed and couldn’t focus. All sense was lost.

“Tell me why, Ai?”

“it was because-”

“And don’t say it’s because I’m the strongest. And as true as that may be. I’m only physically stronger than you.Your skill, your technique is miles ahead of mine. Just look what you just did. You were serious and now I’m on my ass. So please, just tell me the truth.”

“I-” Do I even know the truth? Before Ai could finish, Ai heard the door to the dojo shift open and immediately flipped Gojo on his back, pinned his arm down to his back to shield the intruder eyes from the suggestive position they were in.

It was Megumi. He caught Ai pressing Gojo’s head into the ground.

“Umm, should I leave.”

“No, uhh, we were-, we were just sparring,” Ai stumbled over their words.”You need to talk to your sensei obviously, let me leave.” Ai let go of Gojo and zipped out of the room.

“Do you think they could teach me how to do that to you?” Megumi asked, dead serious.

In Ai’s confusion, they landed themselves in Shoko’s office.

“Don’t tell me your injured because of Gojo again-” Shoko noticed the dejected look on Ai’s face. “Oh Ai, what happened.” Ai had no injury, but Shoko saw the hurt.

“I got what I wanted. I got close to him again. Like when we were students. I beat him today you know?”

“Really, so should I prepare to patch him up?” Ai sighed. “When are you going to stop running away. Why did you ask Gojo to train you?”

“That’s the milliom yen question isn’t it?” It was time to bare themselves. Ai was tired or running too. “Yaga pissed me off. the meeting we all had after I got back from leave, everything he said, I felt like he was attacking me. Saying, ‘the students need better work at taijutsu. They can’t just rely on their cursed technique to save them’ And that’s exactly what I did,when I fought that special grade.”

“Knowing him, he probably was trying to provoke you. So are you not in love with Gojo anymore?”

“No. I still am and think I always will be. You and I both know that me training to get close to him was a cover up.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Ai bumped Shoko’s shoulder and they both shared a laugh.

“So what was it really?”

Ai found themselves back in Yaga’s office.

“Principal Yaga. Bring out the cursed doll Ask me again”

Yaga already knew. He handed the doll to Ai. “Why did you ask Satoru Gojo to train you?”

“I thought I was weak after I fought that special grade within an inch of my life, I used up almost all of my cursed energy. That curse was like my shadow, it could do everything I could do, but it could do it better. I was just...disappointed.”

“Hmm. So you ran away?”

“It’s a habit of mine. I’m noticing now. I am also noticing that I have been cold to you. I’m sorry.”

“Ah my student. All is well, but I’m not the only on impacted by you running away as of late.” This confused Ai. Was he talking about Shoko? Who?

Gojo walked in on the meeting. “Excuse me Principal Yaga, but I will be taking Ai.”

“Heh?” Ai was oulled out of the room and into a dojo the school had.

“I needed help. It was a rough time at Jujutsu Tech without the best hand-to-hand combat specialist.”

“Gojo I was only gone for two weeks.”

“No. After we graduated, You left Japan. Four 4 years. I needed you then.”

Ai’s face dropped. “Gojo, If I tried to be there when you needed me, would have let me?” They looked into each others eyes. That was all the conformation they both needed.

“Do you remember when we played connect four together? Yaga said if we were going to work together, we needed to be more comfortable with each other so we played games.”

It was true. Yaga made sure the all the classmates got along together with an activity of some sort. For Gojo and Ai, it was connect 4. Not that it mattered who won, but they developed a deep bond over the childs game.

“After our second year, we stopped playing as often as we did.” Y/N observed

“You know why?”

“Then you should know I took leave after I fought that special grade.” Toji.

“But I didn’t run away.”

“But you did put up a wall. Your infinity. I bumped into it once when I ran over to play a game with you. I was hurt.”

“Is that why you left the country?”

“No.” It was kind of the reason why, but not quite.

“When we sparred earlier, that was the most honest you had been with me for long time.” Ai agreed with a head nod. “Let’s spar again.” Gojo wanted to see Ai’s honesty again and he wanted to see them move like the majestic bird they were.

“Okay.” They both took a fighting stance. Gojo and Ai proceeded with the dance. They kept throwing all they had at each other for 15 mintues.

“Come on Ai, I thought you were supposed to be the best.” He joked, trying another way to throw them off.

“Oh shut up,” Ai smirked. “Satoru.”

Gojo froze and blinked. He hadn’t heard his first name come out of their mouth in years. Ai took advantage of his daze and performed the Hurricanana on Gojo. Ai swiftly wrapped their legs around Gojo’s neck and flipped him over. The spar was won.

“You were saying.” For the second time that day, Ai had Gojo pinned underdeath them. “You’re right...I am the best-” Ai was cut off by Gojo caressing their thigh.

“I’ve missed you, Ai.” His touch stunned Ai to silence. “You were never weak Ai. You just thought you were, but look at you, besting the strongest sorceror.” His words, voice, and tone, they were all an aphrodisiac to Ai. So much so that Ai couldn’t help but mimic Gojo when he leaned into their face.

“I missed you too,” Ai replied, then their lips touched. Gojo would’ve taken Ai’s breath away in that kiss if they weren’t already tired. They were making up for lost time in that kiss.

“Say it again. My name,” Gojo pleaded.

“Satoru.” They said his name all day and even into the night.

“Alright everyone. It’s important to hone your hand-to-hand combat skills. Yes your cursed technique is important, but we don’t want to over rely on our powers. You must be prepared in any scenario.” It was after hours. Kugisaki, Fushiguro, and Inumaki were all lined upon the school field and taking extra lessons with Ai. “And Maki thank you for helping me out with this.” She was exceptional at taijutsu and they had an odd number.

Ai clapped their hands. It was time to get down to business.

“Alright, with the drill I just showed you. Inumkai with Kugisaki, Maki with Fushiguro.” The boys just sighed at the pairing. “And no complaining.”

“Bonito Flakes,” Inumaki pouted.

From behind the, Gojo out his arm around Ai. “How’s my little trainer?”

“I’m doing well and so are the students.” Ai smiled.

“That’s good. Are we still on for tonite?” Gojo kissed Ai’s temple.

“Of course we are.” Megumi saw the public display of affection and gagged.

“Don’t you have better taste in men, Ai-Sensei?” Maki caught Megumi off guard and knocked him down.

“Pay attention Fushiguro, that’s what you get!” Ai giggled.

“You won’t leave again will you,” Gojo whispered in Ai’s ear, worried.

Ai looked around. Maki was tossing Megumi around like a rag doll. Kugisaki had Inumaki in a head lock. It was perfect.

“No. Of course not. I’m home.”

The End :)

#gojo x oc #jujutsu kaisen fic

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crackcrocs · 4 years

Text

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿ if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

#LCZABIBU #deathwillonlybethebeginning

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victoriaholmeswriting · 5 years

Text

Hiding Something

Sherlock x wife!reader One-shot

Reader it on AO3!

Rating: M

Words: 750

“Sherlock, I don’t have time for your games right now,” his wife sighed in exasperation. “Can you, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”

The detective gave her a sharp look before he returned to his microscope and the dissected mystery-flower on the kitchen table. This attitude was all she’d gotten out of him for the past two days.

That was it! That was the last fucking straw!

Furious, she picked up the Union Jack pillow from John’s chair and chucked it at his head. It collided with the side of his face, completely taking him by surprise.

“I’ve had it with you and you childish games, Sherlock Holmes!” she yelled. “I’m going to John and Mary’s tonight. If you love me and care about this marriage at all, you will come find me in the morning, apologize, and explain yourself -- thoroughly. And it better be good because you may never see me again if you don’t!”

Sherlock watched her storm to their room to get her things. He knew she meant it.

Fine. If they were going to have this fight, it was clearly now or never, or she would lose her. And he still wasn’t quite sure that’s what he wanted.

He followed her to their room.

“Are you sure you aren’t going to your boyfriend’s?” he spat. All the anger and betrayal he’d been feeling punched the sentence out in the nastiest tone he’d ever used with her.

(Y/N) froze. She dropped the shirt in her hand and turned towards him.

The pained look on her face told Sherlock that he’d made a big mistake. But how? How could he be wrong? He was so sure she was having an affair. What did he miss?

“Is that really what you think?” she demanded in a dangerously quiet voice. Tears started streaming down her face. “Is that really what you think of me? Is that why you’ve been treating me like shit these last few days? How fucking dare you!”

“You’re hiding something,” Sherlock defended, not wanting to admit how very wrong he was.

“Well, use your brain,” she screamed back. “Use that giant brain you’re so bloody proud of and figure it the fuck out.”

Before Sherlock could say anything else, she fled the apartment, slamming the doors.

He knew better than to go after her right now; so he simply watched her go around the corner and out of site from his window. His brows were knit close together as he tried to figure out what his wife was keeping from him.

She wasn’t sleeping with someone else. That much was obvious by her reaction to the accusation. She wasn’t that good of an actor. But it was also obvious that she was hiding something. She’d admitted it, even if it wasn’t in so many words.

The challenge was set -- and he would figure it out.

~ ~ ~

Sherlock spent the rest of the night tearing 221B apart, room by room. Each room turned up less than the one before.

Around 4 am, Sherlock started on the final room: the bathroom.

He checked everywhere -- in the shower, under the sink, on the sink, the medicine cabinet, the towel basket, absolutely everywhere -- but there was nothing.

Nothing….

Holy fuck, there was nothing!

Sherlock pulled everything out from under the sink again, this time, looking for what wasn’t there.

There were no tampons or pads.

Gasping for breath as he began to realize what this meant, Sherlock wracked his brain, trying to remember the last time she’d had a period.

Four months.

It’d been four months since his wife's last period. How could he have missed that?

Not bothering to grab his jacket, Sherlock bolted out the door.

At 5 am, he was pounding on John’s door and shouting her name.

As soon as she opened the door, he dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry,” he said, earnestly. “I’m so sorry! I know I’ve been busy. Too busy, evidently. But I should have realized sooner.”

She crossed her arms protectively as she looked down at him. “Realized what?” she prompted, tentatively.

Sherlock reached up and uncrossed her arms, taking her hands in his. “(Y/N), are you pregnant?”

Crying again, she slowly nodded.

Completely out of words, Sherlock wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing her stomach and holding her as tightly as he dared, given the circumstances.

Cautiously, she ran her fingers through his curly hair. “Does this mean you’re happy about the baby?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes!”

Tags: @josiecarioca @madshelily @klinenovakwinchester @emmelynecosette @once-again-i-am-dead @your-local-albino

#sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlock x reader #wife!reader #tw strong language #married!sherlock #angst

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thedreammweaver · 4 years

Text

You Are My Destiny (Burton-schumachervers riddlebird, angst, hurt/comfort)

Warnings: blood, murder, violence, arkham stuff, insecurities mention, poor self image mention

“Are you sure we should be putting him in here with...you know.”

“Who? Nygma? C’mon, he’s harmless. Poor son of a bitch can’t even talk anymore I doubt he’ll be any help to this one.”

Ed listened attentively to the orderlies outside his cell from where he was laying on his bed where he always was. He was aware that Arkham was facing an issue where they had more patients then cells and were cramming two or three into one cell despite regulations. Ed figured he was about to get a new cell mate, he didn’t very much care though. He’d given up caring about things months ago, at least now he’d have something to watch. He didn’t look up as he heard his cell door open and something being shoved in before the door was closed very quickly.

Oswald growled angrily as he worked at ripping off the muzzle that had been forced on him,?once it was off he chucked it into the wall. Ed just watched the other man look around the room, presumably for anything he could use to escape. He knew who Oswald was and Oswald had heard of the riddler but they’d never crossed paths before now, what an odd way to meet. Oswald immediately ruled out the vent as a way to escape, knowing very well that he would never fit through even if he could reach. It was the same with the high window, even if he could get the bars off of the it was too small for him to fit through as well. He cursed his ample form and decided to instead inspect the ginger man laying on one of the beds. “So you’re the infamous Riddler, huh?” Ed only looked through Oswald, not making eye contact. “Damn, they really did a number on you..poor bastard.”

Over the next few days Ed payed close attention to Oswald though nobody was aware that Ed could pay close attention to anything anymore. He listened to Oswald rant about how it took a lot of care to properly make clothes for someone of his unique proportions otherwise there’s problems like the ones the hastily made striped jumpsuit he was in presented. Some of the seams had already started to give in places where it hugged his frame. He also complained about how the wide stripes made him look bigger, Ed didn’t think that but he’d gathered Oswald’s perception of his own appearance wasn’t the best. Ed wanted to tell the other man he was beautiful...but he couldn’t , that was a weird thing to think about a stranger and yet Ed thought it and thought it again. He always watched with great interest when the orderlies came to take Oswald for ‘therapy’. It took nearly five of them to do it, one of them almost always got bitten before they could force the muzzle on. Sedatives only seemed to make Oswald angrier, for someone of his short stature he could surprisingly hold his own in a fight. Ed missed Oswald when he was gone and was excited when he heard him being brought back down the hallway, he hadn’t felt excitement for the year and a half he’d been in Arkham besides when Chase Meridian came to see him...but that felt like decades ago. Ed was so intrigued by the shorter man’s habits, how he snored, how he twitched so much in his sleep, how he was a perfect mix of refined and crass. He was funny too, Ed forgot what funny felt like. Oswald must’ve felt comfortable around Ed cause he told him a lot. About his childhood, about himself, just a lot. Ed had started imagining they were best friends until it progressed to something more. When Oswald told stories of past romantic or sexual escapades Ed always imagined the person Oswald was speaking about was him, that’s when he realized he’d already started thinking of Oswald as a lover. The thought of Oswald being his made Ed feel and care and want, he never wanted that to stop.

It was night now, Oswald couldn’t sleep. He lined his flippers up with the moonlight coming through the small window and made a shadow puppet of a bat on the wall. Ed made the effort to turn his head to the wall to look. “Oh, you like that, huh?” He chuckled as he made the bat flap it’s wings and started mimicking bat noises. “I see without seeing...to me darkness is as clear as daylight...” Ed recalled to himself so quietly it barely qualified as a whisper, his voice weak from disuse. Oswald didn’t hear him over his self entertainment. Ed smiled softly, that was it, he had to make Oswald his, he couldn’t stand not to. While still watching the other man he reached under his bed and felt for the screw that held the leg of the bed to the metal frame. He began turning it with his fingers, it was difficult as due him being catatonic for so long and Arkham’s failure to administer frequent physical therapy Ed’s strength had somewhat deteriorated. He felt the screw dig and cut into his fingers but he kept turning as he watched Oswald get bored of the shadow puppetry and turn over to try and sleep.

“Alright, up we go, Nygma.” One of the orderlies said as they pulled Ed to his feet. “Fuck, why is he bleeding?” The other one said in disgust as he noticed the blood dripping from Ed’s fingers.

“I don’t know, must be biting himself or something, who cares.”

Ed was slumped down in the chair as the doctor ‘evaluated’ him. Really it was just routine, he didn’t actually care how Ed was doing. “How do you like you’re new cell mate, Edward?” He asked rhetorically, knowing Ed wouldn’t answer. “I hope, for your sake, that you won’t miss him when he’s gone tonight.” The doctor said, looking through files on his desk “Since I know you can keep a secret and I’ve been just dying to tell someone about this little project, I’m going to let you in on something very exciting.” There was evil in the man’s smile as he continued “You see, our dear Mr. Cobblepot is not insane. Disturbed? Most definitely, however, not crazy so there’s no reason for him to be here.....but being a man of science I can’t just release him.” He got up to look through a file cabinet on the other side of the room “I mean, the man is a medical anomaly. The syndactyly alone would be enough but there is so much more....anyways, I’ve decided I must dissect him. I’m afraid that means you’ll be back to being alone by tomorrow morning, dear Edward.” It was easy for Ed to hide his distress but inside his mind was racing. They were going to dissect Oswald? Take him away? Take Ed’s Oswald away? No...they weren’t, Ed wouldn’t let them.

Ed waited patiently that night for the orderlies to come busting in, Oswald’s snoring soothed him for now as he worked at the screw under his bed. It felt like it had started digging into his bone now, Ed didn’t care he kept turning. The door opened quietly, only one orderly came in. He was holding a syringe, Ed deduced that it had to be something lethal as they quickly stopped bothering with sedatives on Oswald in the first day. Ed finally got the screw out, seething as he watched the orderly walk over to Oswald. Filled with a determination only love could bring about, Ed ripped the leg from the bed frame and forced his tired body over to the syringe armed man. “MINE!” he yelled as he brought the metal stick down on the man’s head, the feral declaration of ownership startled Oswald awake but Ed didn’t stop, he brought the metal down on the man’s head over and over again, how dare he try to take his Oswald away. Spotting the syringe in the orderlies hand Oswald quickly worked out that Ed must be protecting him. Ed stopped once the orderly’s face was just a puddle of viscera “Mine..” he asserted quietly once more, his throat already hurting from yelling.

Oswald stopped to catch his breath once he and Ed hadn’t heard the alarms from Arkham for a few miles. “Thanks,” Oswald said sincerely “I guess we can go our separate ways now-“ he was cut off by Ed suddenly hugging him and shaking his head in disapproval of that idea, almost in a panic. It took Oswald only a second to realize that Ed didn’t save him because he just needed someone to escape with, he saved him simply because he was in danger. “O-Oh,” Oswald was a bit flustered as the ginger man bear hugged him as if he meant everything to him “So it’s like that, is it?” he smirked, gently pushing Ed off. “Hmm, you’re cute,” he mumbled while studying the taller man’s face “I guess we can stick together for a while.” He grabbed Ed’s hand and they kept moving. Ed was grinning ear to ear as Oswald led him. ‘A while?’ He thought ‘I think you mean forever.’

#oswald cobblepot #edward nygma #the penguin #the riddler #riddlebird

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jackdawyt · 4 years

Video

youtube

Again, midnight snow, pine forest, lanterns, etc. It’s the same ambiance. When Mark Darrah showed this 2019 tease, he shared an article questioning if snow can appear on the equator, the article proved that areas that are on the equator can have snow. We can successfully say that our clowning wasn’t all for nothing! We honked and brigaded the circus of Dragon Age clowns together, and BioWare graced us with exactly 12 seconds of Dragon Age 4 in-engine shots. Which at the bear minimum is something that we feral clowns can sink our teeth into.

With that said, first and foremost, we can confirm this footage was Dragon Age related. Not only that, but it’s actually next gen work-in-progress, as John Epler confirmed.

With Dragon Age 4 being built for next gen, we can see the beauty of the Frostbite Engine’s graphical fidelity:

Lighting, ray-tracing, blooms, shadows, depth of field, upscaled texture quality, etc. The evolution of the Frostbite engine is apparent, the game looks stunning already! And there’s an overall tone of dark fantasy, the world is saturated in this gothic aesthetic, and I love it!

The midnight snow, spooky atmosphere, eroding corruption and terrifying amounts of red lyrium and fungus.

As far as initial impressions go, Dragon Age 4 looks dark, like Tevinter Nights dark! That’s something I know for a fact we all want to see, so we’re excited for that.

Let’s talk about the three shots we got, and what they tell us about the next Dragon Age game, at least what we could make out.

Location

Upon impact, this first shot reminded me of Mark Darrah’s 2019 in-game screenshot tease:

Again, midnight snow, pine forest, lanterns, etc. It’s the same ambiance.

When Mark Darrah showed this 2019 tease, he shared an article questioning if snow can appear on the equator, the article proved that areas that are on the equator can have snow.

For the uninitiated, Tevinter is in the Southern Hemisphere, whereas Ferelden and Orlais are in the Northern Hemisphere.

When Mark Darrah shared this article, it explained that his 360p tease was revealing a location that’s on the equator given the snow, we all assumed it was Tevinter, but maybe not.

Both Mark’s screenshot and this new in-game shot look like they’re in the same area. So, where could this moonlit, gloomy area be?

Well, it could be Tevinter, probably southern Tevinter closer to the equator, or it could be Northern Ferelden because we can see plenty of tidbits relating to Ferelden culture.

For instance, we can see recognisable Ferelden totems and elven urns resembling their burial rites. This at least speaks on the location’s purpose, or at least the inhabitants of the area, either present or past.

The Tree

Upon inspection, the tree seemingly has red lyrium roots sprawling from the base. While the top is leafless and devoid of life. Perhaps red lyrium from the ground has begun eroding even more life, as red lyrium carries the blight onto anything that is living. We can only expect more corrosion and corruption of natural life throughout Thedas.

Trees; in particular, have a lot of representation and meaning in Dragon Age, especially ones as wicked and old as this tree we see in the tease.

One of the biggest predictions at the moment is that this tree is a vhenadahl. A generational tree of the elven people, that means ‘home tree’, essentially it represents arlathlan and the elven people. Although there is plenty of merit and meaning behind that, I don’t think this tree is a vhenadahl.

Vhenadahl’s are generally displayed in elven alienages providing comfort to the city elves. This is certainly not that given the surrounding area. Even the burial urns prove that this tree acted as something else. But what? Perhaps it was a flourishing funeral garden, once a safe place for those to mourn, now corrupted with blight?

Mythal has also been represented as a tree because of her vallaslin. Which resembles leafless branches, and has the same depiction of that tree on Flemeth’s True Grimoire.

If we look beneath the tree, the urns with skulls are shown a lot in elvhen ruins and near elvhen artifacts. Perhaps this tree resembled something from Ancient Arlathan and could've been an old oak that became lifeless due to the blight, much of what is suspected about the death of Mythal...

There’s a codex on “The Oak” that relates to the constellation ‘Fervanis’, it’s represented by a towering tree with leafless branches that harkens back to the earliest of human tribes. They followed animistic beliefs, that nature and humans were one, and both equal. This was the main belief before the rise of the Old God’s worship and creation of the Tevinter Imperium.

However, others believe that the constellation ‘Fervanis’ is of the elven people – specifically, the depiction of Andruil herself, the goddess of the hunt. Another connection to the ancient elves...

With that, this tree could resemble many things going forward, there’s symbolism in everything when it comes to Dragon Age as far as I’m concerned. There was even a tree in The Dread Wolf Rises trailer... so both trees could share the same connotation.

As a final note on this shot, we see crow-like-bird's flutter from the tree... Jackdaw’s confirmed for Dragon Age 4? CAW! Moving on to the next shot.

Structure

The chapel (as we are calling it) and the fortress in the background are very Ferelden in design. The fortress is identical to Redcliffe Castle, whereas the chapel resembles Skyhold’s main hall to some degree.

Tevinter architecture follows more spiky, oriental designs using precious stones and metals. None of those attributes appear in these structures, they’re most certainly Ferelden.

Location

There’s a small trail of snow linking that this is a continuation of the previous shot. With the tree to the left, and the fort behind, it seems both shots share the same moon.

Speaking of the sky, we can see the healed Breach just yonder, perhaps hinting that this location is relatively close to the Frostback Mountains? Is this fortress settled in the highest points of Ferelden considering the Inquisitor sealed the Breach there?

This fortress has been ransacked, as we can see it’s flooded, falling apart and has abomination/ darkspawn flesh bags.... Perhaps the blight has spread throughout the area with the red lyrium’s growth?

Just like the tree, red lyrium has grown into this fort, perverting everything it touches. The corruption of Red lyrium is a common theme throughout this tease.

If it’s not Ferelden, then where? Estwatch is an island just off the coast of the Free Marches, located directly on the Equator. Built originally by the Imperium, it’s ‘World of Thedas’ depiction looks very close to this stronghold. However, the chances of this being Estwatch is likely uncommon, but in Dragon Age, everything is in the realm of possibility.

But who knows, it could very well be the Frostbacks? Maybe we’ll revisit Skyhold/Temple of Sacred Ashes once more to see what Pride had Wrought...

Connection

The fortress behind emits an ooze of red lyrium, is this fortress connected to the following red lyrium shot shown? Personally, we believe each of these locations are connected. And so, that’s where this red lyrium shot takes place?

As we can see this location is trickling with red lyrium and corruption, it’s chaotic to say the least. No wonder you can see the glowing from miles away.

Red Lyrium Organism

This organism (as we’re calling it) in the middle has been the talk of the entire carnival. There’s a lot to dissect given the centre part of this shot.

At first, this organism looked like a decaying, yet familiar Red Lyrium Idol. It carries the shape and figure of the idol, however bloated beyond belief. Perhaps the red lyrium from the idol has grown into a tumultuous form, spreading throughout the area and that has caused the mass spread of the blight throughout the landscape.

Or it could be a Titan vein/heart/aspect of a Titan, however, not just any Titan, a blighted Titan. And that’s why so much red lyrium has spread throughout each of the shots, as it’s grown in increasing values, corrupting everything living in the vicinity.

One must ask, what is the purpose behind all of this red lyrium? It comes down to good ol’ Chuckes of course!

As we know red lyrium weakens the Veil. Solas can use the substance to constantly weaken the Veil, until it is destroyed. This blighted Titan heart could be the beginning of this plan.

Since red lyrium is the blood of the Titans and it carries the blight, perhaps this heart is the origin of the next blight.

Perhaps if this organism isn’t a Titan heart, nor the Red Lyrium Idol, it could be a grotesque, vile monster that awaits us. Thriving on the red lyrium and mushrooms, enveloped in a cocoon... waiting for its next meal.

The area surrounding the organism has gruesome bodies and twisted figures that are reminiscent of the Fade. Yet we can see the sky and trees in the background. So, we’re clearly not in the Fade, right? Unless we’re already doomed and the waking world and the Fade are one...

The mushrooms share a resemblance with standard deep mushrooms, could red lyrium have infected them with the blight, corrupting them? Are we facing against terrifying fungi’s in the next game? Can we eat them?

Deep mushroom harvesting is usually a dangerous task because it can lead to darkspawn. Apparently almost all the deep mushrooms tend to carry the darkspawn's corruption, however are not contagious. So no, I wouldn’t suggest eating them...

The torn down fortress once more follows a (you guessed it) Ferelden structure. This entire shot reminds me of the Temple of Sacred Ashes after Corypheus destroyed the landscape during his fight.

We can see the tip of the mountains in this shot, and they look like the Frostbacks. So, it’s most likely not in Tevinter, if we compare the Ferelden and Tevinter mountains:

Fereldan’s are like the Rocky mountains:

Tevinter’s are like the San Juan mountains:

Both very distinct from each other.

This shot as a whole is rather ambiguous... it feels like something we haven’t seen before... almost alien. I feel like each scene is taking place in Fereldan, however, I’m very sceptical considering Tevinter is the main location of the game given Trespasser’s ending, Tevinter Nights and Joplin’s setting.

Honestly, I can’t wait to just explore more, this tease has given me a glimpse at what we can come to expect! Regardless, it’s been super fun to don the tinfoil on actual Dragon Age 4 related-content!

Although this tease was small, we may have something soon, depending on when soon is. According to EA/BioWare’s community manager, they said: “Soon BioWare fans, soon.” followed up with “I mean... my soon always comes with a ™. So, who really knows.”

Perhaps the next official tease will be a title reveal? That’s what I’m thinking at least. In any regard, I’ll be covering this and more recent tweets in my next news video! Let us know if we missed anything that you guys caught, and tell us your thoughts down below regarding this tiny tease and Dragon Age 4

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