#I still have the halo 4 shirt and it still fits but it’s a bit tight now lol

[crowcryptid]

Happy birthday halo 4, you were the last game I ever went to a midnight release for

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 12

Thank you so much for the love this story has been getting. I love every comment and tag. You guys are the best!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11

*

“They want us to record a demo?” Jeff asked for the hundredth time since the agent had talked to them.

They were in the garage they used for practice the next day. They still were on the high of suddenly having an agent. Something that they certainly wouldn’t have had without The Queen’s Crown.

“Holy shit!” Gareth said, his voice high from the excitement. “They want us to record a demo.”

“Hell yeah, they do!” Eddie said clapping a poor stunned Brian on the shoulder.

They sat in stunned silence for a couple of minutes.

“This doesn’t mean we’ve made it,” Brian said softly, barely above a whisper.

“No,” Eddie agreed. “But making a demo to shop around to all the labels is a hell of lot closer than we were two weeks ago.”

Gareth let out a shuddering breath. “I thought that song would do it for us, you know. That it would put us on the map.”

“Hey,” Jeff said. “It still might. We just have to knock the recording out of the ballpark too.”

“Think of it as a campaign,” Eddie suggested. “You found the magical item, now you just got to get to the final boss. There’ll be other adventures along the way, but we’ll get there.”

They all nodded.

*

Steve was set to start his painting. Eddie was strewn out on a bed of red satin, his hair a halo around his head, his body beautifully stretched. Steve yearned.

He yearned to press his lips on the indent of Eddie’s collar bone. To taste the line where hip met leg. To run his fingers through those dark locks. To bring a flush to those pale cheeks.

Steve bit down on his lip. He couldn’t fuck this up. Not like what he did last year. He had to paint the whole thing. His face, his thighs, his cock. Steve couldn’t cover anything up or place anything in the frame that cover any part of Eddie.

Everything else? Was completely up to interpretation. He could Lucifer fallen from heaven (if you wanted to torture yourself with painting wings). He could be fair Lysander asleep from Puck’s flower. He could be from any myth, legend or story.

Steve had chosen Eros asleep when Psyche comes to him the first time. Because if there was anyone who fit the god of desire and love, it was Eddie.

He got to work on sketching Eddie’s outline. Choosing the scene carefully. And then when he was home he would work on painting the bed, using an old catalogue as reference for the four poster bed he wanted.  

Every time Joyce walked by when he was painting Eddie, she would nod her approval and walk on.

*

“Fuck, Chrissy!” Eddie cried, burying his face into the throw pillows on her sofa. “The way he looks at me makes it very hard not to get aroused. And I cannot get aroused. I’ve tried thinking of horror movies, cataloguing my band t-shirts in order of when I got them, or even Jeff in a tutu!”

She patted his head gently. “Is this beer, ice cream, or Chinese food freak out?”

Eddie raised his head thoughtfully. “Chinese food.”

Chrissy nodded and went to go make their order. She squeezed onto the sofa between his head and the armrest. She began threading her fingers gently through his hair.

“Do you think he’s doing it on purpose? Like to fuck with you?” she asked softly. “Or you think he has the hots for you so bad it’s leaking out all over the place?”

Eddie slowly sat up next to her and put his head on her shoulder. “I want to believe it’s the latter. But we really haven’t done much except grab the occasional coffee. We text and call all the time, but I don’t know what means.”

“Have you told him you’ve had a crush on him for awhile?” Chrissy asked. Her and Pearl spent most of their shifts together complaining about how their best friends were morons that kept making googly eyes at each other.

“No...” Eddie said with a sigh, dragging his hands over face. “Because of the nude thing.”

“What’s up with the nude thing that prevents you from going after what you want?” She shifted on the sofa to prop her head up on her fist, her elbow on the back of the sofa.

“It’s already hard enough keeping everything down,” he gestured vaguely below his waist, “but add actually knowing what he tastes like, knowing what his skin feels like under my hands, my lips, my tongue? It would take all of two fucking seconds of him looking at me with those bedroom eyes and I’d be harder than that god damn concrete floor.”

Chrissy giggled. “Yeah, I could see how that would be a problem. That’s the best part about being a woman, when we get aroused, it’s a lot harder to tell.”

Eddie scoffed. “Which also makes it the worst part about being a woman because then it means the other person is fucking clueless.”

“Mostly guys,” she agreed.

“Are you glad you’re a lesbian?” he teased, going into tickle her sides.

She squealed with laughter and batted him aside. “Knock that off.”

Just then the doorbell rang. “That’s our food. Saved by the bell.”

Chrissy hopped up to get the food and paid. She set their food on the coffee table and began going through the boxes.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie said. “I could have at least covered the tip.”

Chrissy laughed. “Babe, you’re working part time as model and getting paid by the gig. Save your money. I get paid $15 an hour plus tips. Believe me when I say, I’ve got this.”

He kissed her cheek. “I’m glad the Queen’s Crown is working out for you, sweetie. You seem so much happier since you’ve started working there.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And Diamond is thinking of hiring a third bartender things are going so well. It used to be that they only needed the one on week days and two on Fridays and Saturdays, which is when Diamond would step in and help. But with how well Garnet and I get on, we have more people coming in on the week days and we’re getting better tips, too. So Diamond wants to bring in a third so that Garnet leaves we’ll still have two at the bar.”

“Wow,” Eddie said. “I’ve been stuck in the same place for so long...” he spread out his hands, “I forgot what freedom was. We’ve been in the studio recording the last couple of weeks working on our demo to be shopped around.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve writing every moment I can. Hell, most of my best lyrics come from me just lying there for three hours. Well...the ones that don’t have Steve in them, anyway.”

Chrissy laughed. “Oh, I’m sure the lyrics that come from those classes are way to risque for radio.”

Eddie blushed and shoved hair in front of his face. “Shit, Chris. I don’t know.”

She ate her food thoughtfully watching Eddie push his food around. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “So what’s the real problem?” He looked up at her confusion. “I know you. There is something else that’s bothering you, love. You’re wound up so tight.”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know.” He set his food down and clasped his hands together, looking down at his feet.

She bumped him again. “You just talked about the freedom to write music, to get the chance to really do something with your life. But I don’t see it in your features, babe.”

“What happens to Steve if I do get a record deal and have to start touring?” he muttered mournfully. “What happens if we’re more than friends when we leave? I just feel torn apart. Having to chose between the life I’ve always dreamed, and my man of my dreams. I don’t know if I would chose touring with the guys if it came down it.” He threw his arms around her. “I would chose Steve every time and that scares me.”

“Oh.” She set her own food on the floor and wrapped her arms him. “Oh, sweetie. That’s why you have to talk to him. Because it sounds to me like those questions have answers only he can give.”

Eddie let out a sob. “What if the answer is that he doesn’t want to try because he doesn’t want to be left behind?”

She kissed the top of his head. “How would you be leaving him behind? Just because he stays in one place while you tour, doesn’t mean you’ve left him behind. It just means you’ve given yourself a home to come back to.”

Eddie looked up at her in awe. “Oh.” He snuggled in close. “You’re the best friend an idiot could ask for.”

She poked his side until he squirmed. “You’re not an idiot, Eddie. Anymore than you were an asshole about Steve. You can only work with the knowledge you have. And yeah, maybe some of your choices were pretty fucked up, you were able to move past it and become friends.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. And then another. “I love you, Chrissy.”

“I know, sweetie,” Chrissy murmured, kissing the top of his head.

*

“You wanted to know who Garnet is,” Jonathan snapped. “So that’s why we’re here.”

Nancy sighed. “Doesn’t this go against the bar’s rules or whatever?”

Jonathan threw his arms in the air. “I don’t care at this point. They all know who I am and I know who they are. Because shit happens outside of work sometimes and it gets revealed.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “I’ll just go to the bar tonight like Onyx suggested.”

Jonathan furrowed his brow. “No. Absolutely not. Because if you do, you’ll get upset and if you get upset, you’ll make a scene and if you make a scene Diamond will ban you.”

It was Nancy’s turn to throw her arms in the air. “Can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“Because you wouldn’t believe him,” a warm, gentle voice said behind her.

She whirled around and gasped. “Steve!”

Steve smiled sadly. “Hey, Nance.”

She looked back and forth between Jonathan and Steve in shock. “He’s Garnet?”

Both men nodded.

“Pure coincidence,” Jonathan said. “I had been working at the bar for a year when we needed a new bartender. Steve came in with Robin and they were both hired.”

Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. “Robin works there too?”

“Yup!” Steve said with a smile. The smile slowly slid from his face. “Look. I know me turning out to be gay was hard on you. Especially with how it all came out. But just remember, I didn’t come out because I wanted to, it was because I forced to.”

Nancy buried her head in her hands, she looked up at him, anger sparking in her eyes. “If you hadn’t tried to be a hero...”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you say that it would have been better for a girl to be raped and not realize I’m gay over what I did,” Steve snarled.

She opened her mouth to refute him but no sound would come out.

“I’m sorry it ruined your life, Nancy,” Steve said. “But it wasn’t just your life that was ruined. Do you know long it took for me me to walk down the street without people whispering behind their fingers? How long it took to be able to look at myself in the mirror because of the scars around my neck? I’m sorry I’m the reason you can’t trust Jonathan, but fucking hell Nancy, you aren’t as big as the victim you are making yourself out to be.”

Jonathan touched her elbow. “I didn’t know you felt this way. You need to talk to someone, Nance. That was some pretty messed up shit I just heard.”

Her lip began to quiver. “I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn’t. Because you’re right, that was so mess up.” She let out a shuddering breath. “The newspaper has someone...I’ll give him a call.”

Steve reached out and held open his arms to her. Nancy wavered a moment, looking to Jonathan. He nodded and she ran for Steve’s arms. He wrapped her up in a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she whispered. “I’ve just been so angry for so long.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’ve got a good boyfriend there, Nance. Take advantage of that, okay?”

Nancy nodded. “Okay.”

He gave her a brief squeeze and let her go. “I’ve got to get to class. But you take care of yourself, you hear?”

She smiled and let Jonathan lead her away.

Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 4 - Secrets

Title: “Messy”

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3,503

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Original Characters

Tags: John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst, Breaking The Rules, Dean is Sam's Real Parent (But he shouldn't have to be), Dean Giving Sam a Childhood, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Meets a Cute Boy, Unwanted Haircut, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dean is 13 and Sam is 9

Summary: John leaves Dean and Sam alone at a motel the day before Halloween. Despite John's hard-and-fast rules about leaving the motel room, Sam convinces Dean to take him trick-or-treating. While they're out, Dean meets a boy who makes him feel like breaking the rules was worth it.

On AO3 Here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, you know the drill,” John says brusquely as he hoists the duffel over his shoulder. “Tell me the rules.”

Dean stands up from where he’s folding laundry on the motel room floor. They stopped at the laundromat this morning, John tossing Dean just enough quarters for two small loads before taking Sam along with him to the local library for research. They’ve been tracking a creature for days and John’s still not sure exactly what it is.

Dean would have loved to help with the books. Instead he sat in front of the laundry machine, exactly the same as the hundreds of others he’s fed with quarters over the years, and watched their clothes spin around and around. He noticed new holes in Sam’s jeans and socks when he moved them to the dryer. If his dad will let him use some of their wound-stitching thread, he’ll repair them after this hunt.

He faces his dad, posture straight and hands behind his back. “The rules are stay in the room, keep the doors and windows locked, don’t answer the door for anyone except you and Bobby, only spend money if I absolutely have to, and always have a weapon in reach,” he rattles off.

John nods, face impassive. “And the most important rule?”

“Protect Sammy,” Dean says firmly. He glances over to the rickety table under the window, where his scrawny little brother is filling out a worksheet. It’s part of the last round of homework their teachers had given them at their previous school, right before John took them out again to hit the road.

Dean quietly tossed his own homework in the garbage and told Sammy to finish every worksheet, because he was going to mail it back to the school and his teacher would check it. Sam’s even writing a letter in the cursive he’s learning to go along with it.

Dean has no clue what the address of the school is.

John pulls the Impala key out of his pocket and opens the door. “I’ll be out of cell range during this next leg. Check in date is Thursday. Don’t call for help until Sunday.”

Dean nods. John steps halfway out the door before turning back. He eyes Dean for a long moment, as if he’s trying to come up with something to add. Eventually he just says “I’m cutting your hair when I get back. You look messy.”

The door closes. In the silence of the room, Dean reaches up and touches his bangs. Just this morning, in the reflection of the washing machine door, he admired how his hair was curling a bit over his ears. It framed his face and made him look softer. Less skinny. More like the other boys he’d seen at school.

Oh well.

The Impala roars to life outside in the parking lot, and Dean listens until the purr of the engine fades away down the road. He looks at the half-folded pile of laundry at his feet.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween.”

Dean jumps a little. Sam’s right next to him, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dean pushes him away and drops onto the couch, nudging a balled-up pair of socks with his foot. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

Sam sits down next to him. “Dean, I think Dad forgot about Halloween.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “He didn’t forget, Sammy. It just doesn’t matter.” He avoids looking at his brother, running his fingers over the ridge of threads barely holding together the hole in his own jeans.

“But I told James I’d be a doctor,” Sam needles. “He’s gonna be a pirate.”

Sam’s ability to instantly make friends always leaves Dean feeling half-proud, half-nervous. Sam was in third grade with James for less than two weeks, and he still talks about him constantly.

Dean thinks it’s better not to get attached. He just can’t bring himself to teach Sam that particular lesson yet.

He sighs and glances at Sam. “You know you can’t trick-or-treat with James anyway, right? He’s in Denver.”

Sam groans dramatically and flops against the hard backrest of the couch. His shaggy hair falls into his face. Dean looks at the longest strands, curving past Sam’s cheekbones.

“We can just do Halloween here,” he suggests, even though he knows “buying candy from the gas station” definitely doesn’t count as necessary spending.

Sam shakes his head where it’s still resting on the couch. “That’s not real Halloween.”

“We’ve never done a real Halloween, so how would you know?” Dean’s just buying time now, putting off the moment when he has to say “no.”

The stink-eye that’s sent his way is of epic proportions. “I watch TV, Dean.”

Dean rubs his face. “Sammy--”

“--Oh, please, Dean, please!” Sam shifts into begging mode, sitting up and whipping out the puppy eyes. His left eye is half-covered by hair. “I know we’re not allowed, but can’t we break the rules just one time? It can be a secret.”

They hold eye contact for a moment, but Sam’s more stubborn. Dean looks away first, his eyes falling to the laundry on the floor. Almost unconsciously, he reaches under the lumpy couch cushion next to him and lets his fingers graze the pistol stashed there. His stomach rumbles and he wonders how far he can stretch their last cans of soup.

Suddenly, a secret doesn’t sound so bad at all.

“Okay,” he says.

Sam must’ve not expected Dean to relent, because he’s silent for a couple seconds before whooping and launching himself at Dean. “Ahh! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Dean can’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He hugs Sam back, the kid’s bony shoulder digging into his ribcage. After a moment, he pulls away and puts on his most serious face. Hands on Sam’s upper arms, he looks him straight in the eyes. “Sam, if we do this, you cannot tell Dad. Do you understand?”

Sam nods enthusiastically, still grinning. Dean digs his fingers into his arms. “Listen to me, or we’re not going.” He waits for Sam’s face to fall a little before continuing. “You can’t just not tell Dad, you can’t drop hints. You have to clean up all your wrappers. We can never talk about it. Do you get it?”

Sam’s eyes are wide now. He nods again, very small, and Dean knows he’s gotten through. He loosens his grip on Sam’s arms. “All right, then. How are we gonna make you look like a doctor?”

Sam beams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, they lock the motel room door behind them and head out. The neighborhood that starts a few streets behind the motel is pretty normal, as far as Dean can tell. The houses aren’t super big, but the yards are, and there are toys scattered on some of the lawns. The biggest house on the corner even has a tree swing. The big tree reminds him of the one in their front yard in Lawrence. He tries not to think about that too much.

It’s dark, and chilly -- they’re still in Colorado -- and Dean holds his jacket closed in front of his chest. The zipper broke a couple weeks ago. Ahead of him, Sam doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. His “doctor coat” flaps behind his legs as he skips down the sidewalk. It’s just a sheet from the bed that Dean stuck together with safety pins in a certain way (it doesn’t look like a coat at all, but the mirror in the motel bathroom was shattered so Sam couldn’t see it anyway). He hung their stethoscope from the big first-aid kit around Sam’s neck, with the express instruction not to lose it, and he emptied the rest of the first-aid kit onto the couch so Sam could carry the empty box with the big red cross and look professional.

Sam hasn’t smiled this much in weeks. Dean’s neck is crawling with the knowledge that he’s breaking rules, bigtime, but he shakes it off. They’re out now. It’s done.

Sam has already latched on to a group of kids making their way up the drive to a single-story brick house. Dean hears him introduce himself, sees him flash the big toothy smile that Dean told him makes him look friendly. The other kids compliment his stethoscope, and Dean relaxes a little.

Everyone in the group is wearing what looks like homemade costumes, too — there’s another bedsheet, draped over a short kid’s head like a ghost (if only ghosts actually looked like that, Dean thinks); and a long black coat, obviously from an adult, dwarfing a kid who Dean’s pretty sure is supposed to be a vampire. Sam, in his makeshift getup, fits right in.

Dean’s trailing behind the group, letting Sam do his making-friends thing, when he notices another older kid doing the same. He looks about Dean’s age, maybe a year older, fourteen or so, and he’s dressed like an angel with a blue halo made out of pipe cleaners. The rest of his outfit is normal, though — a t-shirt that’s printed to look like a suit and tie, under a regular puffy winter coat. Dean’s eyes linger on him as they follow the younger kids up to the house. When they come to a stop so Sam can ring the doorbell, the other boy looks over at Dean, too.

“Hi,” he says. In the yellow glow of the porchlight, his eyes look greenish blue. “I’m Al.” He reaches out a hand. Dean looks at it for a moment, then takes it. They shake. Al’s hand is warm and smooth, a stark contrast to Dean’s freezing, calloused palm. Dean wishes he could hold on a bit longer.

“Dean,” he replies, dropping Al’s hand. He’s not sure what to say next. That’s Sam’s area of expertise.

Luckily, Al doesn’t let him flounder long. “Do you live around here?” he asks, friendly and curious. Dean’s used to hearing that question asked with a thick layer of suspicion, usually out of the mouth of some nosy adult. He still gives his practiced answer, though.

“No, me and my brother are just visiting our grandparents for a couple days.”

Al nods, accepting the lie easily. “I thought I’d never seen you at school.” He points at the sheet-clad ghost. “That’s my sister Katie. She’s seven. It’s the first time our parents are letting me take her trick-or-treating on our own.”

Dean smiles and gestures at Sam, who’s holding the empty first-aid kit out to the homeowner for candy. “That’s Sam. He’s nine. Same deal for us.”

“I like his costume,” Al says. Dean bristles for a moment, until he realizes Al’s being sincere.

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like Katie’s too.” He sweeps his eyes over Al again. “Why are you wearing a fake suit with your halo?”

Al looks down at himself and laughs sheepishly, smoothing down the front of his t-shirt. “I wanted to do a toga with a sheet, but it’s way too cold. I just dressed up ‘cause Katie wanted me to. The halo was the quickest thing.”

“It works,” Dean assures him, suddenly wanting Al to feel good about himself. He shuffles his feet a little, kicking at the fallen leaves littering the walkway. Al smiles at him and something grows in Dean’s chest, a warm, glowing ball, making everything feel tight and tingly. He’s not sure what to do with it.

Sam appears at his elbow suddenly, much to Dean’s relief. He ruffles Sam’s hair. “What’d you get?”

Already chewing on something that looks very caramelly as it squishes between his teeth, Sam holds out the first-aid kit. “She gave me two big ones!” he announces around his mouthful. Two full-sized Milky Ways, one already half-unwrapped, slide around in the box.

“Cool,” Dean says. “Don’t get a stomachache.”

“They’re gonna get stomachaches,” Al says ruefully as Sam and Katie bounce down the driveway to hit the next house. “We should steal some of their candy, y’know, just to protect them.”

The word protect briefly jolts Dean out of his growing sense of relaxation and he sneakily pats his chest, feeling the sheathed knife tucked away in the inside pocket. He makes sure he can still see Sammy (now bounding up the walkway of the next house), and takes a breath. Everything’s under control.

“You okay?” Al’s looking at him with his eyebrows drawn together, a lock of dark hair falling into the crease. He has nice hair, Dean decides. Floppy and kind of messy, squished flat in the middle by the band of the pipe cleaner halo.

“Yep,” he says, forcing the cheer into his voice. If Al notices, he doesn’t say anything. They continue to follow their siblings through the neighborhood, leaving some distance so they can talk. Al tells Dean about school, that he likes science and hates history, that his favorite band is Journey, that he wants to play soccer but his dad wants him to play football, and that he wants to be a veterinarian.

“I like cars,” Dean says in response. “I’m not great at school. Not sure what I wanna do when I grow up.”

Not sure how to tell you that I’ll probably be hunting monsters for the rest of my life.

Al leans on the picket fence of the house that they’re currently waiting outside. “You could be a teacher,” he says.

Dean narrows his eyes at him in confusion. “I just told you I’m bad at school.”

Al shrugs. “My favorite teacher says he didn’t like school. That’s why he’s so good at helping us. He gets it.”

The heavy layer of clouds above them breaks, and a ray of moonlight lands across Al’s face. They’re standing between streetlights, so the silvery glow makes Al’s blueish eyes gleam. Dean finds he has to breathe a little harder than normal. He shakes his head.

“Nah, if anyone’s gonna be a teacher, it’s Sammy. He’s really smart.”

Al hums and pushes off the fence. Sam and Katie are moving on again. “I don’t know, man. You seem smart to me.” He pats Dean on the shoulder, the warmth of his hand seeping through Dean’s threadbare jacket.

In the relative darkness, Dean smiles so hard his eyes squeeze shut.

Eventually, they’ve stopped at every house in the neighborhood. Dean’s pockets are full of the candy that doesn’t fit into Sam’s overflowing first-aid kit. Al’s coat pockets are bulging, too. Sam and Katie run sugar-hyped circles under a streetlight while Dean and Al stand on the corner, looking at each other a bit awkwardly.

“Uh-- I’m glad we ran into you guys,” Al says finally. “You’re really cool.”

Dean’s glad that he’s the one facing away from the streetlight, because his cheeks heat up and probably look way pinker than they would from just the cold.

“You too,” he says. “Wish we lived around here.”

“Where do you live?” Al asks. “You know, just in case we ever take a road trip.”

Unless your destination’s my dad’s car, I don’t think you’re gonna run into me.

“Sioux Falls,” he says. “South Dakota. I live with my uncle.”

If Al finds that strange, he doesn’t pry. Dean could hug him. He wants to hug him.

Katie comes barrelling over, dragging her pillowcase of candy along the pavement. She’s huffing from running around, ghost sheet dangling half off her body. “Al, I’m soooo tired.” She flops against her brother. Sam comes trotting up behind her and grins at Dean. Dean tries to smile back, but there’s a lump in his throat, something that’s making it hard to breathe.

Al pats Katie on the head. “We should probably go home, anyway. It’s getting late.”

Still taking tight little breaths, Dean nods. “Uh-- yeah, us too. See if Sam can sleep off the sugar rush.”

“How long are you staying with your grandparents?” Al asks.

Dean looks at his feet. Weighs the pros and cons of sneaking out again. He’d have to take Sam; there aren’t actually any grandparents who could watch him.

He can’t risk it.

“We’re going home tomorrow morning,” he says, every word dropping like lead. Sam shoots him a confused look, but he ignores it.

Unless he’s imagining it, Al’s face seems to fall. “Aw, too bad. Wait! Hang on.” He rummages through his candy-heavy pockets until he pulls out a little spiral notebook and a nub of a pencil. He writes something on a page and rips it out. He hands it to Dean.

“Our phone number,” he says with a little smile. He steps forward and the streetlight catches his eyes again. Dean thinks that in the sunlight, they’d be bright blue. Al gestures at the paper. “You’ve got a phone at your uncle’s, right? Maybe you can call me sometime.”

There are way too many feelings jumbling around in Dean’s chest for him to say anything coherent, so he just nods. Al smiles wider. “Cool. I’m happy we met you.” He takes one more step forward and — Dean stops breathing altogether — wraps his arms briefly around Dean’s shoulders. He’s very warm. His hair smells good. Dean’s brain doesn’t catch up quite in time, and he misses his chance to hug back. The edge of Al’s halo brushes Dean’s forehead as he pulls away.

“Thanks for hanging out,” Al says, putting his arm around Katie’s shoulders and turning to go. “Have a good drive back home!”

Dean clears his throat. “Bye, guys,” he says lamely. Sam waves enthusiastically to make up for it. They stand under the streetlight for a long few minutes, watching Al and Katie go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam manages to eat every piece of candy by Thursday morning, which is the day they’re supposed to hear from John. Dean makes him eat canned vegetable soup in between meals of Mars bars and Skittles. They scrounge the motel room for wrappers, tossing them all into a big garbage bag that Dean’s going to throw into the dumpster outside. He finishes folding the laundry, counts the money to make sure it’s all there, re-packs the first aid kit, and puts the sheet back on the bed without the safety pins.

Anytime the unease creeps in about having broken the rules, he looks at his brother’s shining face and pushes it back down. He and Sam rehearse their story in case John asks them what they did and Sam even finishes all of his worksheets. Dean folds them up and hides them at the very bottom of his duffle. He tells Sam he put them into the mailbox in the motel office.

And every few hours, he pulls the folded little piece of notebook paper out of his pocket and looks at it. In careful handwriting, Al had written:

Alan Montgomery

(from Halloween. I hope you call.)

And his phone number.

Thursday afternoon, Dean takes the candy-wrapper garbage bag out to the parking lot. At the last second, he pulls Al’s note out of his jeans. After a long moment of reading and re-reading it, he gently folds it back up and tosses it into the bag. He throws the whole thing into the dumpster.

But not before memorizing the number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John gets home late Thursday night. Before they check out of the motel on Friday, John sits Dean down on the toilet seat in the bathroom and pulls out his electric clippers.

While John has his back turned, plugging in the clippers by the sink, Dean pushes his hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands bunch up between his fingers and fall back down onto his ears. He remembers Al’s messy hair brushing his cheek when they hugged.

John flips the clippers on and the buzzing fills the bathroom. For the second time, Dean is glad that the mirror is shattered.

With every lock of hair that tumbles to the ground, Dean recites Al’s number in his head.

“There,” John says gruffly, after the floor and Dean’s lap are littered with honey brown strands. “You look like a man again.”

Dean stands up, brushing off his jeans. His head feels cold. “I’ll get a broom,” he says.

He’s halfway out the bathroom door when John says “Dean.”

Dean freezes, already wondering where he left a wrapper, how John found the garbage bag, if Sam let something slip. He slowly turns back. John’s wrapping the cord around the clippers.

“I need you to come on the next hunt. We’ll drop Sam off at Bobby’s.”

Bobby’s, where the telephone is. Dean’s heart beats hard for a different reason now. He tries to look casual. “Are we gonna stay for a bit?”

John’s already shaking his head before Dean’s done talking. He pushes past him and drops the clippers into his duffel bag on the bed. “No. We’ll be on the road for a while.” He stops and looks at Dean. “Weren’t you going to find a broom?”

Dean loads a dustpan with his hair and empties it on top of the garbage bag in the dumpster.

He whispers Al’s number again.

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Warnings: Mentions of death , A/B/O dynamics

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/gennyzoe/playlist/7xFIhRFa8o2Ae4QJpD1Hp9?si=gWsZ__YOQdKCS81X21jZqw

Chapter 4: I found

Hours had gone by! Bucky was caught of guard with the smell of fire. Faint...but distinct enough he knew it wasn’t his imagination. The chilled air dragged a whiff of the combined scents of fog, smoke, and very faintly in the background... HER!

She was close! He could feel it! This wasn’t new territory to him, but he wondered how she’d ended up hours from her home. He followed the wind, blowing ashes by his face. Leaving a trail, that called to him as if nature was guiding him to her. All the odds were against her tonight, but the forest smelled safe! It was like it protect her from the evil of the elements.

After a couple of minutes on the trail, it hit him! The smell blew the air out of his lungs, he approached the small faded fire with caution. Not wanting to scare her off. As he got closer he noticed her small frame. She was attempting to stand up, but doing so knocked her directly into the fading red embers of where a fire used to be.

The world disappeared for him at that moment! It was her! Just him and her!

And she smelled delicious! Everything is his being screaming to make her his in this very spot, and vanish with her. Nobody to find them! As long as she was there, there was nothing he’d want in this life or another! She was the trophy and the torture, that cursed through him. To love, but never poses. How could he even be thinking of love right now? He hadn’t even looked into her eyes yet.

What if she hated him?

What if she didn’t recognize him?

How was he gonna explain what’s going on to her? She has to know what her body wants right now, what it’s craving for her to do! And how much he wishes to not crave her in the same way.

He bolted to her with all his might, and caught her calling frame. As her eyes slowly faded into unconsciousness, peace resonated in her eyes. He’d dreamed of those eyes for years! And as her body went limp on his arms all he could do was hold her close and pray for the strength to keep her alive and safe... from himself!

She opened her eyes as they adjusted to the moonlight above her. Her body was covered in a warm flannel, she didn’t recognize the source of it.She remembered the eyes she saw before losing consciousness.

Had it all been a dream?

She felt like her limbs were on fire! They responded to every bit of stimulation the flannel was rubbing upon her body. She realized it wasn’t the flannel that was causing her body to jolt up at the feeling of touch; It was that it smelled like an alpha. Her body was trying to absorb as much of him as it could! She was unconsciously reacting to him and granting him access to her.

Hearing a branch break from behind the forest bush, she sprung up as quickly as her body allowed her to react and grabbed a beach from her side.

“Who’s there?” She was in full alarm, she also noticed the fire she had started had been reignited, and was fully blazing and strong!

“What do you want from me? And for the love of... “

She noticed that the reason she had the flannel on was for her own modesty, because underneath the flannel she was as naked as she was brought into the world.

“ Why am I naked? ”

Bucky noticed her panic as he approached the camp again. He’d gone out to get some more firewood and clay to dress her wounds. He wasn't expecting for her to be so recovered.

“I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to startle you! I'm here to help.”

He put his arms up, to show her he wasn’t a threat, dropping the contest of his arms to the ground! “I was just getting us some more fire, and you need something for your wound... it doesn’t look good!” he fixed his hair back with one of his free hands, a nervous habit he had kept since childhood.

She furrowed her brow, and took a swing of the branch startling him and forcing him to step back. ” I bet you would you know what wound need tending to?” She replied with a cocky attitude! She imagined he would’ve had to look at her body while he took her clothes off, but the realization that her body was not in display contrition made her blush for a moment.

Ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks, and the small pit of embarrassment in the pit of her stomach. She put on a brave face! As he got closer her body reacted to his presence.

He was tall! Always had been, but despite the fact she’s grown since he last saw her, he still sported a good foot above her. She lowered her stance and let go of her makeshift weapon.

Taking a step back, she tripped, and stumbled back. Bucky tried catching her, but before he could he lost his own footing and tackled her body to the ground.

There she was!

Looking like a goddess underneath him, in a flannel, with her little confused doe eyes! She didn’t even try to fight him off. They just stared at each other's eyes, for a small eternity that what theirs to have.

They could both see their changing features, the fire’s light shone on Bucky to reveal his dark black hair. There were messy strays surrounding his face, but the rest was neatly tucked behind his ears. Stubble framed his face, and his jaw was the jaw of a man. It was also an awkward time to notice how much muscle he’d gained in the last 10 years. His body was solid on top of her, even through his shirt, his body told his story! He was a man of work! His body was that of a man who did hard labor, a man who was outside for long periods of time. Which was something she could tell as she noticed the tan in his upper neck had begun fading as the weather grew colder.

His muscles responded to her stare in ways she couldn’t pinpoint!

He on the other hand noticed her delicate face, the way she had grown into her childhood innocence and beauty. Her frame was so small and breakable compared to him. He for a moment thought he could easily crush her, and tried to ease his weight to make it lighter on her.

Her hair was gorgeously long! It surrounded her like a halo, fit for her like an angel. And her eyes where large and expressive. He could’ve read those eyes a million ways years ago, but now! He couldn’t help but wonder what they were trying to say.

He couldn’t stop himself as the word slipped from his lips.

“Doll!”

He placed his knee between her legs and pushed on the palm of his hands in an effort to lift his body weight off of her.

“Don’t call me that! Haven’t heard that in a long time”... she wiggled under his body and pushed him off her “ that name used to be special to me”

She tried to stand up, but a dizzy spell forced her to remain seated on the ground. Looking at his hurt expression a few more seconds that she wanted to.

“ I really missed you!” Her eyes filled with tears that threatened to roll down her cheek as she tried to stare forward, but he would still read her pained face. “ When you caught me. I thought I was dying! ..and you weren't real”

“ Im sorry! Im so sorry! I shouldn’t have left you just like that!”

He sat down next to her frame, he noticed how her body was shivering, even close to the fire. Her smell was spiking up. He knew that once morning came he’d have to rush her to Steve as soon as possible! But for now, he just wanted to enjoy her! Just enjoy her own smell one last time.

“I never stopped thinking about you!” He lowered his face to the palms of his hands. It was there when she noticed. One of his hands wasn't quite his. It was a lusterly metal, but it still radiated his energy, and warmth.

“I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have interrupted whatever it is you guys do in the village...” she was guarded! Her body tensed up as she talked, a knife in her words ” a lowlife like me getting lost... that’s what it took for you to care again” the tears began to fall, a combination of her hormones, and now shock!

Her body was changing and she couldn’t do anything about it, and now the ghost of her former best friend was back. She didn’t know how to process. She was stronger than this! Why was her body dissolving her to her nature?

Bucky wanted to embrace her! To say so many things, but nothing felt like enough to him.

“Listen now it’s not the time for... ” as he stood up he heard her let out a pain filled grunt. Her hand reached out to grab his thigh, as she doubled over to the ground in pain.

He quickly reacted to her pain, and kneeled down next to where she now laid doubled over on the cold moist ground.

“No, no ,no , no listen to me doll... you have to pull through!” He positioned his body as comfortably as he could for her “ I can’t help you... I’m not supposed to...”

He’d made a mistake! He’d coated her in his smell from the moment he held her in his arms. Her body was screaming for an alpha and it was only going to get worse till an alpha helps her body respond to it’s needs.

From the little life she had a few minutes ago, this little omega at his feet was shaking, and frail!

“I’m sorry, doll…” he looked around in distress “please just stay with me! We have to make it till morning! Please just look at me...tell me you’re alright! “ he cradled her small body and held her close to him.

As a strong wave of her scent hit his nostrils, and a small seizure overcame her body.

Bucky knew what he had to do!

But he wanted to make sure he had well enough exhausted all of his options. It would be selfish of him not to admit he wanted to help her.

“ Bucky... am I gonna die? ” she looked up at him with pained eyes, she was suffering! He used his shirt to wipe down the trails of blood exiting her nose. He wanted to help her so badly! She was nuzzled up against his body, shivering and looking more lifeless by the moment.

Her body was rejecting her omega change!

Bucky knew the fever wasn’t a good sign! But with the seizures that were now overtaking her body every few minutes, it was confirmed to him that she was moments away from collapsing upon herself. An alpha made an omega stronger! It was in their nature!

She needed an alpha !

As he held her in the heart of the forest, illuminated by the light of the moonlight, he could see the teardrops of red leave her eyes. Tears the color of fire!

And when the moon was above then at its brightest, Bucky looked up at the sky, and then down at her “Im sorry doll! I'm about to let you down one more time... I hope you can forgive me one day” as he exposed her neck to him, her untouched mating gland on full display to him.He carefully extracted his canines, and like a soft kiss, he bit her!

He knew Steve wasn’t going to be happy, and quite frankly he was even more scared of her finding out he’d taken away her choice!

Tag list: @austynparksandpizza @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere @connie326 @patzammit @blessedwedgie

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Snowed In p5

I have an hour before work so instead of doing the responsible thing and cranking out my labs, I’m posting smutty fic. in my defense, I have none.

Pairing: Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: smut. hella smut, unprotected sex, bit bitey, hair pulling? I’m new to writing smut so if there’s any more plz message me I really wanna know and be able to tag my shit accordingly.

Summary: How else does one get to sleep if not by fucking your friend that is totally not more than a friend? or Geralt finally does something about the tension between them?

There’s a bit of plot in here somewhere I swear. Not really, I just have a feeling G is competitive af. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled emotionally indulgent programming next part so if you’re not down with the smut I’ll add a little summary on the beginning of the next one.

Part 4 here!

__________

Day thirty brought a restlessness that couldn't be soothed. If you weren't moving you felt like you were going to disintegrate to dust from the pent up energy. 

You tried trudging circles around the barn in the snow, sprinting up and down the stairs, making Geralt spar with you until your muscles gave up and you collapsed, but you couldn't shake the need to move. You even went so far as to ask Geralt to hold you while you tried to sleep. You used the "it works for babies maybe it could calm me down" excuse and he must have bought it because he wasted no time pulling you into his arms. Regardless of how comfortably you fit tucked into his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, you only slept an hour or two. 

Day thirty one was no different. Anxious, restless, and now pissy because of how tired you were. You paced most of the day, to Geralt's dismay. He finally ordered you to run the stairs because he couldn't "sit here and watch you walk a hole in the floor anymore". You'd rolled your eyes but you did it anyway, until you thought you might hurl. Then when the nausea passed you ran them ten times more for good measure. You even ate more than usual at dinner, hoping a full stomach would at least make you feel sluggish enough to stop moving. 

Despite all this, you laid staring at the ceiling for hours, tapping your fingers on your ribs and wishing for even a wink of sleep.

Just when you were starting to feel lighter, ready to float off to blessed unconsciousness, you heard a deep moan and a giggle from the other side of the wall. 

"Fuck me. I thought they were still fighting" You groaned, rolling over to face away from the wall and pulling your pillow over your ear. 

Geralt grimaced, staring at the ceiling, "Made up an hour ago." 

You snickered, "So you really hear all of it?" 

He rolled his eyes, the movement just barely visible in the light of the dying fire, "Unfortunately, I can hear a room past them as well." 

Another moan and the distinct sound of someone's ass getting slapped seemed to echo in the silence. 

"I was so close to sleep" you sighed, silently wishing a curse on the neighbors.  

Geralt frowned, you assumed because he heard something he'd rather not until he opened his mouth, "S'probly why they're so chipper." 

"Hm?" 

He glanced at you before elaborating, "All the… they're in a better mood because they actually sleep. After they… you know, fuck." 

You snorted, praying he couldn't see the flush in your cheeks, "Is that how it works?" Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

The neighbors were growing louder by the second, clearly so excited about the resolution of their fight that they didn't care if they woke the whole inn. 

He shrugged, "Works for me." 

His tone was too casual, too measured even for him. You narrowed your eyes in a desperate attempt to pull any more information out of the shadows on his face. 

"To get to sleep you mean?" Your voice was nearly a whisper, tamped by what you thought he might be implying. 

He hummed in agreement, finally turning to face you, his face completely unreadable, "Might calm you down." 

If you'd wanted to play it cool your body betrayed you. Your heartbeat alone was a dead giveaway that his words got to you, and you didn't even want to know what he could tell with any other senses. 

You blinked hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, "Ar- are you… uhm… offering?" 

He propped himself up on an elbow and his entire demeanor changed, the usual mask of indifference replaced with a grin, "I am." 

You heard a little voice in the back of your head yelling about how things could get messy but you shut it up, already feeling that coil tightening between your hips just from how he was looking at you. 

You reached out to run a finger over his wrist, lightly tracing little figure eights over his skin, "I'd hate for you to regret it in the morning." 

"I have a lot of regrets in life, very rarely do I regret sex." 

He can tell. He's way too fucking confident not to know. Fuck it.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked up at him through your lashes, "Couldn't hurt to try." 

He leaned over you, almost kissing you before moving to your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, "Is that a yes?" 

Fuck.

"Yes. Hell yes." 

You felt the vibrations of the rumblings in his chest as he practically growled before nipping at your jaw. You gasped and grabbed onto the hem of his shirt, now that the tension had broken and you'd touched you finally could move. 

He stopped you though, placing a soft kiss over the skin that stung from his bite before sitting back and pulling you with him, "Clothes. Off." 

You obeyed immediately, shimmying out of every last stitch and letting out a soft moan as you saw him drop his small clothes. 

He smirked, "That excited?" He asked as he resumed his position above you. 

"Something like that. Your ass is great." You answered, not bothering with this charade of shyness anymore. He laughed softly, placing kisses on your neck and running his hand up your body to your chest. You moaned when he squeezed your tit but you yelped when he kissed his way down to the other one and licked at your nipple. He chuckled and took the nub between his teeth, biting down and pulling back just enough to earn another moan before he pressed his lips over the area and sucked. 

"Ah fuck Geralt." One of your hands gripped his hair, but you didn't pull, not like you wanted to. 

He left a trail of kisses to your other breast, "Pull all you want." He paused to circle your now extremely sensitive nipple with his tongue, "I like it." Before you could respond he bit the very tip and you moaned again, this time testing the waters with a light tug at his hair. 

He hummed in response and continued his trail down your body. 

You hadn't pegged him for the type to go down on his woman first, but oh how wrong you were. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how it drove you wild. 

He left little bites at your hip crease and on your inner thigh, coming closer to where you wanted him most, only to switch to your other hip.

"You're a fucking tease." You whined, breathless and so achingly turned on. 

Almost before you finished your sentence, one of his hands spread your folds and he licked from your opening up over your clit.You shivered and gasped, tugging at his hair again. 

He moaned against you and your eyes rolled back in your head, "Mmmmmm Geralt more. Please." 

He obliged immediately, flicking his tongue over your clit in a pattern that made your whole body tingle and thighs squeeze together. Without missing a beat he pushed your legs apart and laid his arm over your hip, bringing his hand to your opposite thigh to hold you in place.

Still working your clit with his tongue he slowly pushed two fingers into you, curling and pumping at an annoyingly laid back pace. You bucked your hips up, or tried, and he chuckled, pulling his fingers away completely.

"Fuck you." You gasped, "That's just rude." 

He licked over your opening with a broad tongue and pulled back, "Kinda the point, isn't it?" 

"Geralt." You mewled in protest, pulling his hair again and earning a grunt in return before his mouth was back on your cunt. He added a third finger when he started again, stretching you out and damn near making you writhe. He coaxed moan after moan, whine after desperate whine from your lips and just before you came, he stopped completely. 

Sitting back and surveying his work he grinned, "Not yet. You have to earn it." 

Melitele's Tits. That's so hot.

You lurched forward, pushing him on his back and straddling his thighs, "Earn it? Like this?" You reached between your legs and gathered your own slick before gripping the base of his cock and pumping just as infuriatingly slow as he had gone earlier. 

The way he groaned set your body on fire, making you shivered in anticipation. You couldn't wait anymore, you leaned forward, placing a hand on the center of his chest for balance and lined yourself up over his hips. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you sank down on his dick. Of course you knew he was big, but this? This was heaven. You savored every bit, lowering yourself as slowly as you could, your fingers curling to grip at the hair on his chest. His hands roamed over your thighs and hips, squeezing at what he could reach of your ass.

When you finally bottomed out your eyes fluttered closed and a low groan clawed its way out of your chest. 

"Fuck , Y/N…" Geralt breathed, fingers digging into your flesh. 

Your eyes snapped open, a devilish grin on your face, "What? Do you want me to move?" 

Before he could answer you clenched around his cock, getting a gasp and gritted teeth in response. 

"What was that? I didn't hear you." 

He opened his mouth to respond but you snapped your hips up and back down as fast as you could, grinding your hips against his in small circles. Whatever he was going to say turned into a string of curses that only spurred you on. You placed your other hand on his chest, rocking your hips slowly forward and up but swiftly back down.

Geralt looked completely undone, his hair splayed out almost like a halo and the firey need in his eyes made you move faster. Your thighs started to ache and your moans were coming out more like desperate whimpers. You leaned back, bringing a hand to your clit and one to your breast. You felt his cock twitch inside you and bit your bottom lip, changing the direction of your hip circles. 

With a growl he gripped your hips and held you down against him, sitting up and turning to sit on his heels. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed at his jaw, letting him hold you to him without moving, "Did I earn it?" You whispered, almost hoping you hadn't with how good it felt to just be filled by him.

He let loose a breathy laugh, "Fuck you." 

You rocked your body closer to him, gripping his hair in one of your hands, "Oh gods please do." 

He bucked his hips against yours driving your whole body up in the air, and pulled you back down with one hand at your hip and one wrapped behind your back holding onto your shoulder. He set a rough, fast pace and you cried out every time your hips slapped against his. 

You felt yourself losing all the strength in your limbs, almost unable to keep hold of his shoulders, and that familiar tingle creeping up your spine. 

"Mm-f- fuck I'm close." 

"Good." Geralt growled, snapping his hips up somehow faster and harder, sending you hurtling over the edge of your orgasm. You yanked on his hair as your whole body was flooded with electric pleasure, leaving you gasping for air. He came right after you, moaning soft and low as you writhed on top of him. 

As your high began to fade, you rocked your hips against his more methodically, working him through the last of his orgasm. You gently tugged at his hair to tilt his head back, placing soft kisses along his jugular and over his Adams apple. His arms wrapped around your waist and held you tightly to him as his breathing slowed. When you made your way up to his chin and jawline he leaned you back onto the bed, pulling out and flopping onto the mattress next to you.

It was deathly silent as the two of you caught your breath. The predicament you found yourselves in seemed to dawn on the both of you, only you saw absolutely no sign from Geralt how he felt about it. 

Later. Don't ruin this. Talk about it tomorrow. Or never. 

"Did we intimidate them?" You did your best to make it sound like a joke, pointing at the wall to indicate the silence. 

He snorted, rolling onto his side facing you, "No idea. I was distracted." 

You giggled, shimmying closer to him and tucking your head under his chin, "Yeah, thanks for that. Good distraction." 

He draped an arm over your waist, "What high praise…" 

"Ssshhhhh," you leaned back and placed a finger over his lips, "I'm trying to sleep here." 

He hummed against your touch, lips thinning into a soft smile. 

It would have been entirely natural for you to lean forward and kiss him, even expected in such a situation, but you couldn't. That crossed the friendship line, as if it wasn't already blurred beyond recognition. Instead you nuzzled into his chest, snaking your arm under his and holding him close, savoring every moment. After all, when the heartbreak eventually set in you'd need something to cling to, even if it was just the memory of his touch. 

__________

Uhm some of yall wanted to be tagged in the next part and  i stg i could cry with how happy that made me! If anyone else wants tagged just hmu 💕💕

@ab-haya @fire-in-her-veinz

part 6 here!

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 31: Free Day - Something Like A Bird Chap.4: The Feathered And The Fanged

Danny says ‘not today Satan’ as a wild Vlad appears to bear witness to Danny’s winged ass.

To say Danny had been a bit tired after his parents giving him a full check over would be an understatement. They literally wanted to see every single little way his wings could move and how each and every muscle reacted to said movement. If he had any reflexes; which hint, he totally did. Hitting the bends of his wings in the right spots would cause them to kick out just like a knee. And he had a spot on his back that would make his feathers fluff out. After all that he just didn’t want his wings messed with anymore, oh and to sleep, thank you very much. Which his folks were perfectly content to let him do on the couch. Which promptly led to the personal discovery that wings were freaking awesome blankets.

Which all also led to this wonderful situation of walking up to one Vlad Masters looking down on him with a quirked eyebrow. Danny elects to not even dignify the man with a response instead he sits up, yawns exaggeratedly, stretches out his arms, and angles himself in just the right way to punt Vlad out the door via a nice big wing stretch. Multitasking, it truly is a wonderful skill. Truly.

Vlad is, of course, grumbling and scowling as he comes back in. “Must you act so ill-behaved, Daniel”.

Danny smirks, “do I look like I care what Satan thinks?”, and only smirks more at Vlad’s sigh and head shake.

Danny only vaguely pretends to be paying attention to Vlad as he gets himself some coffee. Vlad sounding almost genuinely curious, not that vampire-ass was ever genuinely genuine about anything, “I see your parents’ aren’t up yet”.

Danny tosses a cup full at Vlad, evil he may be but everyone needs a ‘wake me the fuck up and allow me to suffer through this bullshit’ coffee. “Everyone was up late, had some limby business to get up to. Far more legal than what qualifies as business to you”.

“Yes because the government wouldn’t find your developments questionable at best”. Danny actually chuckles at that, because truth. The government would love to go all creepy morally questionable evil scientist on his feathered ass. Sure they’d probably have to go through some whacky legal hoops to do it, like classifying him as not human or some shit, but he wouldn’t put it past them to try.

Danny laughs, “like you’re any better vampy”.

Vlad shakes his head, looking Danny over as he turns around, “I’m far less unnatural. Do you not even have the decency to put on a shirt? You have a guest you know”.

Danny smirks, “but it’s you?”. Shrugging, very content with having filled up his ‘annoy the heck out of Vlad’ quota so early in the day. Today must really like him. “My shirt’s somewhere on the floor”.

Danny grins like an idiot when Vlad lifts up the offending tank top with as few fingers as physically possible, “you mean this thing?”, huffing, “unacceptable, you can hardly be running around in a probable biohazard”.

“Hey”. Vlad predictably ignores him and incarnates his shirt. Like an asshole. “I liked that shirt you know”.

“Then buy a new one that isn’t covered in questionable stains that even I can’t identify”. Danny’s pretty sure that Vlad’s desired response wasn’t for him to feel proud. But that’s sure as shit what he’s feeling.

Danny grins at him a bit meanly, sounding painfully sarcastic while his ears twitch a little picking up on at least his dad getting up, “now what is this? Is the Vladimir Masters offering to take me shopping? And entirely on his dime? Oh now how could I possibly say no?”. That smile only getting more mean and smug when his dad sticks his head down the stairs and half-shouts, “that’s a great idea, Vladdie!”, bounding all the way down the stairs and moving to clap Danny on the shoulder under the wing, “no way Danny-boy can wear any of his t-shirts, sweaters, or hoodies with the wings!”.

Vlad quirks an eyebrow, speaking with very obvious venom to his voice; well obvious to anyone other than Jack, “certainly not. I’m truly surprised you haven’t blown them off him yet”.

Jack actually looks shocked by that, “what!?! Oh of course not! I’m sure heaven wouldn’t like that very much! Or Danny-boy!”, tilting his head and chuckling, “if heaven is where angels come from”.

Danny grins wide enough to hurt when Vlad chokes a little and spits out a mouthful of coffee, going wide-eyed all the while. Checkmate Vlad, whatcha gonna do now? “Excuse me?”. Danny’s almost impressed Vlad doesn’t sound nearly as baffled as he definitely has to be.

Everyone looking to Maddie as she comes down, scowling at Vlad for only a second before smiling at Danny, speaking as she ruffles Danny’s hair up, “it’s really all that makes sense. He just finally developed enough holy energy to form his wings and halo”. His dad excitedly flicking the clouds to make them spin around, “and! It explains his ecto-contamination! Angels are purifying after all! So he’s just purifying the town!”, Jack nods to himself and puts his hands on his hips, “the town certainly needs it!”.

Danny sighs, still grinning a bit, “dad, I’m not a walking filter”. Vlad just looks to him, a clear expression of ‘how in the name of all the Ancients did you pull this off?’ and ‘do they seriously believe that line of bullshit?’.

Jack laughs, “a walking, or flying, dehumidifier but for ectoplasm would be a better comparison!”, which Danny rolls his eyes at a bit fondly.

Maddie smiles and nods a little before speaking somewhat seriously at Danny, “though you really do need a new wardrobe. I doubt you have many tank tops”.

Danny grumbles with fake annoyance, “well I have one less that’s for sure”. Which Vlad smirks slightly over. While Maddie looks to Vlad, “and while I don’t know why you would offer to take Danny shopping, we certainly haven’t budgeted for it”, sighing like this is almost painful for her, “so we’ll accept the offer”.

Vlad grins immediately and Danny is mentally smacking himself for being a serious dumbass. Of course shit like this would backfire on him. That is exactly his kind of luck. Hopefully, this won’t go horribly. Maybe. Probably though. This is Vlad he’s talking -thinking- about here. “Why Maddie dear, it brings me nothing but joy to help young Daniel out in times of need”.

Danny gives the most pained and sarcastic, “yay”, he can muster. Which earns him one incredibly smug smile from Vlad. However, Danny is the one grinning meanly when his dad announced that they will, in fact, be taking the GAV and that he’s driving. Since Vlad immediately looked like what’s left of his life just flashed before his eyes.

Vlad, in an almost painfully obvious attempt to stall, holds up a finger, “well, I think Daniel here should acquire suitable-”, he glares at the ash on the floor as an obvious attempt at emphasis, Danny just rolls his eyes, “-attire. Now luckily, I just so happened to plan for such a predicament”.

His mom gives an impressively dry, “really”, as her only response to that. Which Vlad, of course, completely ignores, instead simply nodding curtly and promptly disappearing out the front door he had not too long ago been tossed out of via Danny’s well-aimed wing. Danny’s going to cherish having successfully done that.

Vlad returns almost suspiciously fast, telling Danny that the man had very explicitly planned for this. Which means the son of a corpse probably would have ruined his -still one hundred percent wearable, fuck you- shirt anyway. Danny eyes the purple velvet? fucking Ancients, vest draped over Vlad’s arm. Which he absolutely knows he can’t put on his damn self with his folks here and his dad would absolutely make him wear the ‘gift’ from dear old godfather Vladdie. Curse his luck. His dad as it is looks excitedly... excited.

“Smart thinking V-man! And it has buttons too!”, looking to Danny, “which would certainly be easier to get on. If you got that tank top on, then you’ll definitely have no trouble with this”.

Vlad, surprising no one but his dad, waves him off, “nonsense. Vests of quality are best shown how to be worn by experienced hands”. Making Danny mutter a very quiet, “fuck you and your anterior motives”, at him. Which very obviously just makes Vlad smirk.

Danny just sighs and swallows what little of his pride he actually actively has and turns around to let the fucking prick ahem he means Vlad slide it over his wings. But he does snap his wings open to full length rather aggressively and nearly knocks Vlad over. He would have, if the man’s reflexes weren’t on point.

Vlad blinks and shakes his head, “there are times where I do believe you are more dramatic than even I. Which is no small feat, Daniel, I would know”. Danny will absolutely take that compliment. Regardless Vlad does slip the vest over his wings, Danny rolling his eyes over definitely being able to feel that the prick is examining them as he goes. Danny eventually having to put his arms back after way longer that this should have taken to get the vest over his arms, Vlad was clearly drawing this shit out. Why did he let him do this again? And why didn’t he make sure the local vampire stayed out after he punted him out.

If Danny wasn’t in front of his folks he absolutely would be smacking Vlad’s hands off him or commenting very heavily on the major creep factor of this being perfectly fitted. And Vlad clearly knows this, based on the stupid smirk anyway, as he did up the buttons with precision. Though Vlad smoothing the vest out afterwards was seriously pushing it, and absolutely earned the surprise fingernail-sized ecto-beam straight to the knee. Take that you vampiric twat. Vlad scowls at him without missing a beat.

-

By the time they get to the mall, Vlad is just barely managing to not look frazzled. With the man, of course, smoothing out his suit as they hop out to cover up his slightly rattled nerves. He does make a point to mutter just loud enough for Danny to hear, “I know I have said this before, but your father drives like he is seeking death. Which I must say, there are far easier was to achieve”.

Danny snorts, whisper-snarking back, “what? Like offering his corpse up to you willingly? Maybe on a nice cheese platter?”.

Which Vlad actually has the audacity to give a confident, “yes”, in response to. Pompous ass.

Danny decidedly ignoring -and honestly barely noticing. It was hard to notice these kinds of things when you were the entire town’s certified freak and resident weirdass- all the staring and even pointing he’s getting, which is mostly over the wings. Not entirely, just mostly. Which is weird, freaking wings deserve way more attention and finger-pointing than the fact that he, Danny Fenton, was in a fucking velvet vest and with the freaking mayor; who also just so happens to be bloody stinking rich. This town has issues. So many issues. Probably every issue. Expect gangs. Wait, has there ever been gangs in Amity? Tilting his head, “I wonder, do you think Amity has ever had gangs?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes and gives an oddly bitter, “of course, every town has one or two, Daniel”.

Jack grins, “actually no!”. Both halfas looking at him disbelievingly. Which gets Maddie to explain, “we may have mistaken a few trouble makers for ghosts and covered them in goop”.

Danny can’t help laughing at that, “you know?!? That surprisingly makes sense as a crime deterrent!”, and laughs a little more. Vlad just looks at his folks like they were both slightly nuts. Everyone’s attention gets grabbed by who Danny’s sure is one of the middle school girls running up and holding out a book. Which Danny has some serious ominous feelings over where, exactly, this was going. So he’s honestly not surprised when she blurts out, “could you sign my bible”. Vlad turns to the side and actually looks to be trying not to wheeze in disbelief.

Danny just blinks down at her, “you’re asking me that like I know god personally”.

She gives the single most innocent, “you don’t?”, he thinks is possible.

Danny lowkey doesn’t want to crush her tiny little spirts but come the fuck on, dear Ancients. “... no. No I do not. Sorry?”.

She only pouts for a second before shoving the bible at him slightly more. Cheeks puffed out, “still. Angel’s an angel”.

Danny tries to make his sigh not seem too pained, it is truly very pained though. What’s next? Were priests going to ask him to speak at services? Or was a church going to start up around him? Oh! Maybe he’d wind up with someone ‘reinterpreting’ the bible to find references to him. That of course would totally escalate into him being on prayer beads and crucifixes. Which was a little on the nose considering his rather self-sacrificial ‘job’. Which also made it kind of funny. Was he gonna wind up an important part of what was basically the most dominating religion ever with a ridiculously sketch history? Eh, he’s probably totally jinxing himself here. “Aright kid”, at least being asked for autographs wasn’t actually uncommon for him, “where you want it?”, looking to his family... and Vlad, “anyone got a pen?”.

Vlad smirks at him, “there's one in your pocket, I do believe”, meaning Vlad put one there.

Danny squints at him for a solid minute, “go back to Hell, Satan. No one loves you except Baphomew”.

“That is hardly my cat's name, Daniel”.

Danny just rolls his eyes as he fishes out the pen that absolutely is in his pocket. Though snickering a bit when he noticed the look that borders on bloody murder that the girl is throwing Vlad’s way. Like she was taking Danny’s petty insult genuinely. Speaking while taking the bible, “he’s not literally the Devil, he’s just cold-hearted enough to seem at least closely related”, promptly signing the inside cover and having to make a damn point to not put down ‘Phantom’. And making the ‘y’ all fancy like by putting little doodle wings coming off the curved end. At least she seems happy with it, giggling after looking at it and running off while waving back at him. Danny chuckles over her still throwing Vlad a dirty look.

Danny looks to Vlad, “wow, it’s like she thinks you murdered Christ. Wonder why that is”. Vlad gives him a definitely unamused look.

Danny gets yoinked out of his mild pissing match with his archenemy by his dad grabbing his arm and pointing at their go-to fashion stop. Which no. Danny is not wearing spandex. Especially considering getting a loose tank top on and off was already difficult without intangibility. “No happening, dad. In fact, never happening”, which yes was him actively crushing his dad’s dreams just a little more. But seriously. Nope. He has some shame and pride. It is still intact, it’s honestly a miracle.

Jack sags, “awww”, but that poutiness barely lasts a second before he’s perked right back up, pointing and heading off to the local ‘teen’ hip/popular fashion store. Which yeah, he usually bought jeans from there. Shirts? Ha, no. He didn’t feel like going broke for some name brand shirt that’s no different than what he can get from the discount store. At one time he preferred the local used store, but most people’s clothing never lasted long enough to make it to there in one piece; unless it was truly hideous. Had tons of shoes though, which saved his wallet more than he liked to admit. He was stupid hard on shoes.

Danny shakes his head at Vlad holding up a DC tank top, “that’s ugly. I’m not wearing something just because it’s got some brand name bullshit on it”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “brand names say a lot about your worth and self, Daniel. Though I hardly expect you to know that. Mind you, if you try for Ed Hardy, we will be having words”.

Danny scrunches up his face, “do you think I’m fucking blind?”. Even in a pinch, Sam wouldn’t stoop to that. She’d show up in garbage bags saying something about dressing sustainably and recycling first.

“Sometimes I wonder”. Danny throws a t-shirt directly at his face. Though fine, his fashion style could suitably be called dumpster-chic most days.

Hovering to wander off to where his dad is also grabbing up a really awful fashion disaster, some two-toned plaid thing that’s probably marketed as ‘vintage western’ or something. “Dad no. I’m not the fashionista version of a lumberjack. Or queer enough to have an ingrained love of plaid. And even if I was, I still wouldn��t pick that”. His dad doesn’t even look offended at that, which means he likely agrees.

Danny watches him then pick up a ‘it’s not gay if he’s dead’ shirt with his dad looking almost in shock, making Danny actually have to float to sit down because he’s laughing so hard. Vlad glancing over and quirking an eyebrow, “now I feel rather reminded why I don’t shop at these sorts of stores”.

“Whatever boomer!”.

“I am not a boomer, you know this Daniel”.

“Sure thing, boomer”. Vlad smartly keeps his mouth shut this time, obviously looking to avoid more of Danny’s bullshit.

Maddie smiles at Danny but shakes her head at the shirt, “I will never understand teens love of that spook”.

Danny snickers while standing up, “well some sure think he’s got the personality and behaviour of a real angel. And the fly by the cuff ways of his are ‘manly’ or whatever to the jocks”. Vlad snorts at that from halfway across the store in the more ‘business casual’ section. Ha. That’s not happening either. Vampire-ass would have to literally kiss his ass to get him into that. Danny would take high-class professional professional over ‘business casual’ any day.

Though the patchwork button down with the elbows and shoulders fashionably cut out isn’t horrible, Danny’s still not wearing that on principle alone. So Danny shouts, “NOT TODAY SATAN!”, loud enough to make the guy jerk and get the entire store's attention. Vlad physically sighs and turns to glare at him. Danny raises a wing over his face in a bastardised version of ‘talk to the hand’ before Vlad can say jack shit.

His mom finally gives him a little light in the darkness of ‘preppy but trying to seem edgy’ fashion, holding up a little ‘evil nasa’ tank top with the bottom all shredded, “okay yes, we’re finally getting somewhere here. Nice”.

Vlad sighs exasperatedly as he rejoins them, “I see no point in that, if you wanted to look like you got attacked you could simply go out and get attacked. Shred it yourself”,

Danny looks to him, “you know what else I could shred”, and looks him up and down like that was a threat to every single piece of clothing he owned.

“I would like to see you try”.

“Is that a challenge”.

“Yes”.

Danny turns to his mom, “hey mom, you got a bazooka handy?”. She grins maliciously, “why yes I think I do”. Vlad looks like he has just been gravely wounded. The sales lady looks over to them, “for my sanity, please don’t. I’ve been awake for forty-nine hours”.

Danny chuckles, grabbing up the few tank tops that seemed suitable, the lady leading the four of them over to the dressing rooms, “personal record?”.

“I wish”.

Danny chuckles, “I feel ya. I’d offer a Death-spresso, but I think I’m the only one allowed to drink those and that’s only because I proved that shit wouldn’t kill me”.

“I welcome death”.

Danny actually wheezes at that as he loads up the dressing room, “mood”, then struggles into the probably too small dressing room. Having to cram his wings around, which holy shit thank everything he could use intangibility because he seriously could not pull literally anything over his arms or wings right now. Hell getting his wings remotely unfolded was straight-up not happening.

Stepping out to pose, “it’s decided, dressing rooms are the devil”. His dad laughs loudly at that.

Thankfully they wind up walking out with all of the tops -excluding an orange one that he’s positive his dad grabbed purely because it was orange- and with nothing getting blown up! Though Danny sighs when Vlad beelines for the ‘fancy rich asshole’ store that Sam’s parents’ bragged about shopping at. Mostly her mom. Knowing his luck he’ll run into her. In fact, that is emphatically what is going to happen.

Aaaaaannnnnnnd that’s exactlaly what happened. Yay. Spotting her as he’s standing in the dress-shirt section while wondering how the heck Vlad thinks they’re going to find anything he can wear here. Lovely. Her, of course, noticing him. Because how the Zone wouldn’t she? He had wings. And immediately making a beeline for him. Eh, this might as well happen.

She stops next to him and folds her hands over her waist, “excuse my interruption, I just wanted to apologise for certain past behaviours”.

Danny blinks at the lady with oversized earnings and a bubblegum pink sundress, “what?”.

She shifts almost like this is physically painful for her to do, telling Danny she so totally doesn’t actually want to apologise but thinks she has to. “Me and my husband's treatment of you has likely interrupted your duties. So I am apologising. I realise things work in mysterious ways and that maybe Samatha was a test, with you to supervise”.

Danny groans and mutters to himself, “oh god fuck”, and shakes his head because he is so not dealing with this from ‘I’ll put a restraining order on you’ Mrs. Manson. “Sam’s not some test for you to struggle through. If anything, she had to struggle through you”.

She never gets a chance to respond to that beyond looking overly offended as Vlad is just suddenly there, “I find I must agree. You are quite insufferable”, glancing at Danny, “both of you”.

Danny smirks, “I thought the point of the Devils fall was to suffer. To never know love or affection and never grasp what he seeks”. Vlad blinks, “I’m almost impressed by how mean that was”, looking to Mrs. Manson, “you're still here?”.

Mrs. Manson blinks at him and looks entirely offended before obviously cluing in who, exactly, this was, “oh Mayor Masters!”, glancing between him and Danny, “you two... know each other”.

Danny snickers while Vlad rolls his eyes like this should be supremely obvious, “of course. I am the boy’s godfather after all”, and grumbles almost too quiet for Danny to hear, meaning he probably didn’t actually mean for Danny to hear, “though I’d be better as his actual father”.

Danny walks past him whispering, “in your dreams only, frootloop”, and leaves Vlad to deal with the rich obnoxious lady. Easily catching her fake cheery, “oh I didn’t know that! Well then this is certainly the best place to bring the young angel shopping”. Sometimes Danny forgot Sam’s family were religious.

Danny finally, finally, finds a section with more wing-suitable clothing. Never thought he’d shop with that in mind. He’s honestly not too surprised that his folks didn’t follow them in, probably went to get food instead, since he’s pretty sure they’re banned from this store. He has no clue if that’s Vlad’s fault or his dad’s. This is also the exact time that one of the tailors, or whatever they’re called is fancy ass stores, decides to actually dignify him with some attention. Guy probably thought Danny, being well himself, wasn’t actually going to buy any of this crap. Which yeah, normally would be the case but fuck vests were actually a genuinely good idea. Probably the only piece of layering he could wear now. Unless he goes around cutting big ass holes in all his hoodies. Which, yeah he’s probably gonna do.

The guy nods at him as he’s looking at the backs of some of the tops. And speaks sounding oddly commanding, “straighten up”. Danny quirks an eyebrow but does as he’s told. He’ll play along, see where this goes.

The guy promptly starts manhandling the base of his wings, like a full blown feel up. Squishing the feathers together, figuring out the width of the bone and muscle, space between his wings, even pokes at his back muscle. This feels excessive. “Oddly, I feel like making another I feel like a hooker joke”. The guy just makes a tsk sound at him before running off, or sauntering, whatever, he walks like he’s rich. Like Vlad, but with less hidden villainous energy.

The guy comes back not seconds later with a few different vests, “I’m sure a racer back of this style-”, holding up the first from the pile he brought, “-would give you more comfort and range of motion. Definitely more than what you’re currently wearing”.

Vlad, once again, appears out of nowhere, “indeed. I couldn’t exactly know the precise width between his wings”, looking to Danny, “I am not psychic, Daniel. But I made an educated guess”.

All three jerk a little from Jack shouting from outside the store, “that’s our Vladdie! Always a thinker!”.

Vlad scowls, “your faith in me is truly endearing”. The way he said that making it clear he found it nothing close to endearing. The tailor guy also scowls and makes hand motions to shoo the man off. Ah okay, it was totally his dad’s fault. Which makes Danny snicker a little.

The guy immediately gets back to business, laying out a few other styles. Pointing at one that didn’t even technically have arm holes just kinda looked like it went around the neck, down the back, and over his stomach. And another that went around the neck, over the chest, and around the waist. “Now these ones are a bit more on the feminine side but you’re muscular enough to pull them off”, gesturing to Vlad with a thumb, “he’s not”. Vlad looks suitably offended for a second and Danny snickers some more, he officially likes this tailor guy. Then pointing to the last he brought over that was basically just the same as the one that went over hsi front but with sleeves attached, “now this one will give the illusion of wearing a more traditional vest and is usually what we recommend for men who have to wear bulky upper back braces. But I’m sure it’ll work for our purposes today”. With that Danny promptly gets effectively pushed to the fitting rooms. Not changing rooms because this place fits things to size. Aka it’s expensive as fuck. And knowing Vlad, he’s going to wind up with at least one of every style and the man will be tickled green by the end of this.

The sad thing is the vests were stupid easy to get on, minus the racer back but that one was more comfortable than his current shit. And fine, he looks good in it. And yes, Vlad’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Now as for colour, obvisouly you’ll need at least one in black, I’d recommend the most traditional one, the racer back. The rest are more on the eccentric side, especially without a jacket over top. For those I’d recommend green and magenta. Those are your colours after all”.

Danny blinks, “heh?”. Vlad muttering, “eloquent”, though also looking slightly confused.

“Those are the colours typically associated with you, Daniel, as the principal guardian archangel”, tilting his head, “though I take it you don’t remember about that”.

Alright, Danny thinks the angel thing is one hundred percent going too far now and being taken way too seriously. “Uh, well I’m not a pink kinda guy. And no”.

“Ah well, you were said to be in charge of the gates to ascension and one of the highest ranked angels in the universe. So I’d take the compliment”.

Danny blinks as he guy rushes off, looking to Vlad, “are you having an aneurysm, because I’m having an aneurysm”. Vlad actually sputters, while Danny pulls out his phone to wiki some shit. Blinking down at the screen, “oh you’ve got to be shitting me”. Because yup, apparently there’s an angel called Daniel. His half-life is some serious bullshit, he’s still absolutely positive he’s not actually an angel though. Because come on.

Vlad swallows, “well, one afterlife certainly exists. Another isn’t unreasonable”.

“I will smite you, devil”.

Vlad huffs a laugh, “oh I hardly believe this, boy. Don’t take me for a fool. We both know why this happened”, Danny crosses his legs up in the air purely to emphasise that fact, which Vlad hums at, “precisely. Though the angel argument has some merit to those unaware”.

Danny rolls his eyes and plants the soles of his shoes back on the ground as the guy comes back. Black, green, and one purple vests in hand.

Danny honestly isn’t surprised they leave with enough clothing that someone without super-strength would have a hard time carrying it. And thankfully his folks want to go home now, meaning Vlad has to suffer through his dad’s driving just that little bit more. Not that Danny cares or knows why the prick doesn’t just go his own way at this point.

He gets his answer though when his parents run off to a suspiciously well timed ghost alert from city hall -Danny can tell there is not a ghost there- and he feels himself promptly getting tasered in the side.

Jumping sideways after regaining his balance from very suddenly being back in touch with gravity and scowling at Vlad, who's pocketing the Plasmius Maximus with a smirk, “Vlad seriously?!?”.

Vlad doesn’t dignify him with a response immediately, instead transforming and making a swipe at him. Danny flapping to use the air to get him out of the way quicker. Surprisingly, it works. Vlad floating up into the air, “you need to be able to defend yourself regardless of form or power, boy!”.

Danny rolling his eyes and sidestepping a pink ecto-beam, “you’re still not my mentor, you nut-case. Besides, aren’t we taught to ignore the teachings of the devil”.

Vlad forms two duplicates and sends them lunging around the sides at him, the main Vlad shooting another ecto-beam at him. Considering how Danny’s back is practically against a wall, the whacko is clearly trying to get him up in the air. “You don’t have much of a choice right now, do you Daniel”.

Danny just scowls, mentally says ‘fuck it’ and jumps up to avoid the beam while smashing his wing wrists into the two duplicates as hard and fast as he can. The air force that blows at the ground forcing him up into the air, but he uses it to plant his feet on the side of the wall giving the illusion of defying gravity. While the two duplicates pop out of existence. Danny smirks to himself over the flash of surprise on Vlad’s face. That’s what a fucker gets for underestimating him. Haha.

Vlad gets much more aggressive about the ecto-beams and blasts after that. Which fine, effectively forces him off the ground and into the sky. He’s mentally thanking Mrs. Testlaff for forcing him to effectively practice flying, his folks too. Though as he twists to dip sideways he knows Vlad can tell this isn’t easy for him. This kind of flight was just so freaking different and he wasn’t used to it yet.

“I swear you just want to satisfy your urges to assault minors!”, and goes low to the ground again, actually getting a chance to land; without crashing! Which then gives him something of a wicked idea that might cause some property damage, because if the weak-ish not aimed at the ground thing he did earlier launched him into the air a little then what would happen if he gave one big-ass flap directly over the hard surface of the road. Spreading his wings out as far as he can, crouching down and aimed slightly towards Vlad, who’s looking slightly cautious.

Needless to say Danny goes off like a freaking missile, leaves a crater in the ground from the sheer air pressure, and the shock wave pummels Vlad for only seconds before Danny gut punches him as he zips past. Sending Vlad flying.

Danny just glides up high in the air for bit, hidden by the clouds and trying to locate Vlad again. The wind up here felt really really cool though. It was actually really nice. Comforting even. With floating it really didn’t matter how high up or low down you were, it all felt the same. But like this he can feel the air pressure, the thinness of the air, how wet or dry it was. He feels like he could just be carried off by the wind and relax. He snaps his attention to refocus though when he spots Vlad, who’s looking around cautiously but also like his victory is assured.

Ha. Not a chance.

The really stupid annoying thing is, as he positions himself to dive bomb the guy, Vlad had a point. Him being attacked in human form happens and he can’t always run off to transform. He can’t let his wings be a hinderance more than their size technically already was. Tucking his wings and flicking a bit for a sideways spin, which will look freaking sick if it actually works, and diving down; gravity doing most of the work. He’s high enough up to get some serious velocity. Hey maybe sciences wasn’t totally useless for him.

The only problem with this, Danny thinks as he rapidly smashes into Vlad who doesn’t even get the chance to turn intagible before both of them slam into the concrete, is that he can’t see for shit due to the world spinning around rapidly. He does hear Vlad transform back, so success, though.

Both of them groaning from inside the crater. “Daniel, if you ever do that, to a human, you will kill them. Ancients”, groaning again, “though fair play to you”.

Danny does a weird hybrid of a chuckle, wheeze, and groan, “pleasure doing business, with ya, frootloop. Least I didn’t, break anything”.

“The road might, disagree”.

“That’s, your problem. Mr. Mayor”.

“It’s ghost-related. Governments problem”.

“Ha. Point”.

“Are you going to, get off me”.

“You’re the one, with intangibility right now”.

“Surprisingly, I find I don’t, really feel like it”.

“Then you can lay there and, eat my feathers”, Danny flops a wing on the guys face, groaning slightly from the movement though. Oh he is so going to be feeling this tomorrow.

Eventually the two do indeed get up. Vlad straightening his jacket and trying to act like he doesn’t have a serious forming bruise on his stomach. While Danny is shaking off debris from his wings. It really does feel like he used them to punch an entire road. Just as his folks get back. Maddie bursting out of the GAV, “what happened to you two?!?”. Jack sticking his head out, “was it a ghost!?!l”.

Danny chuckles awkwardly though sending a slightly mean chuckle Vlad’s way before answering his folks, “turns out my wings make for pretty good ghost shields”, changing to a rather mocking tone and side-eyeing Vlad, “saved dear Vladdie’s suit from even a single little singe”. Vlad just huffs and gives his suit a tug that feels very final.

Jack laughs and claps Danny on the back while Maddie shakes her head and ushers everyone inside.

Everyone sitting around the table and enjoying comfort drinks, yes even Vlad, when Danny snorts hot chocolate out his nose at someone shouting, “WHY ARE THERE GODDAMN CRATERS IN THE ROAD EVERY DAMN TIME I VISIT THIS FUCKING TOWN!!!”. Danny puts his head down on the table and laughs.

[mahou-furbies]

Magical Girl Raising Project Limited - character design ranking

Captain Grace

An alright pirate design with enough little details that keep it from being forgettable (I especially like the anchor buckle on her belt, and the earrings and hooks on her hair). The spikes on the coat are what stands out most to me; makes me think of a Mario enemy or something. However I’m not sure how much of a Magical Girl design it is. Like pirates and frills already go together, so the well tested formula (put a miniskirt and frills on it and it’s a magical girl look!) doesn’t really do much. Maybe it’d be better if she had some cutesy detail in there somewhere? Also is that an tail again or what, or some kind of blunt hook? What is it with these unnecessary tails in Magipro designs. 6/10. 

Funny Trick

I’ve always liked Funny Trick’s look, and it’s probably because of the pleasant colour palette, unique eyes and two-tone hair (I’m easy to please with two-tone hair). The nail polish and colourful glitter on her fur are also good little details. But apart from that I guess this is only barely strange enough to be any kind of “magical” look rather than just an anime stage magician, but at least that’s pretty close to magical girls already. Also is that a frigging tail again?? At least it goes well with the hair I guess... 8/10.

Kuru-Kuru Hime

It’s a cute design, but when I think of a ribbon magical girl I somehow expected more ribbons? Like this feels like an the higher end of an average magical girl amount of ribbons? Or maybe it’s totally over the top and my perspective is just skewed since I love ribbons and want them everywhere. Either way I like her outfit from neck down, but I’m not that into the headgear, the combo of the bonnet thingy and the weird crown just sitting on top if it looks strange to me. Nice hair tho even if it could use more ribbons. 6/10.

Weddin

I absolutely love Weddin’s design. The muted and light colour palette is very appealing to me, and the dark chains break up the mostly monochrome design so it doesn’t look dull and faded and also give the otherwise super frilly appearance quite a lot of edge. There’s repeating elements (braids in her hair and veil, the same kind of flowers everywhere, flower yellow also appearing in her eye makeup) so it doesn’t get too complicated, and all of them go well with the wedding theme too. The flame... is a bit of an odd touch and I’d rather associate it with a birthday party or Christmas than a Wedding but I guess you can have candles at weddings too, and I don’t find it too distracting.

I’m not a huge fan of the lingerie like look though, but at least visible garters go with the wedding theme and she’s so covered in veils and frills that it doesn’t look so bad. Also the back train looks kind of lazy. But overall still one of my favourite Magipro designs. 10/10.

Rain Pow

A tail again! However this time I actually like it, since she has that rainbow hoop behind her it looks good to stick something through it, and at least it somewhat resembles her twintails. 

As for the rest of the design, it has zero frills and ribbons and looks more like some kind of scifi spacesuit than a typical magical girl design, but somehow I still really like it. I think the weird heart hair is just enough to pull it into magical girl territory for me so my impressions are more on the “an unique take on an mg look” rather than “not mg enough” side. Then all the rings keep the look consistent (I absolutely love the rainbow halo) and the suit itself looks alright enough. I also find it interesting how muted the suit colours are for a rainbow magical girl and even the rainbow is pretty pastel, but I figure this is a better choice than all the expected seven colours in all their eye-strainy glory. 9/10.

Postarie

Please put on some pants, that is a shirt and not a dress.

Not too interested in this one, but I find it a commendable effort on making a design on the idea of “postal delivery girl”. Still lots of repeating elements so that’s a plus, especially the back epaulette is such an absurd idea but somehow it works and its wings and the wing hairstyle add the required fantasy touch. Bonus points for the cute birds. 7/10.

Tepsekemei

An inoffensive genie design but I struggle to really have emotions towards it. Butt flower is silly and I have no idea what the things hanging from it are, but at least they’re consistent with her head decoration. Don’t care for the shoulder spikes in an otherwise soft looking design. Huge earrings and multicoloured nails are a nice touch. 6/10.

7753

Also one of my favourite Magipro looks. It feels like the design philosophy here was “gakuran jacket and some frills, and then some hearts. And more hearts! More! Even more!” and I think it’s a great way to go with when designing a magical girl. Using just hearts everywhere makes the outfit cohesive, but since they’re all implemented in different ways it doesn’t get boring. I especially like the little hearts on her hands and under the eye, and the one in her pocket.

Two-tone hair in twintails is also one of the best design elements out there and the hairstyle is quite memorable (and also manages to incorporate the heart motif) and I’m always a fan of caps too. The green eyes and the little bit of green nail polish which you unfortunately can’t see here go well with the otherwise reddish look. Maybe the hair looks a bit too clunky (I only just realised it appears to be tied in a hoop behind her) but I won’t let it bother me. 10/10.

Mana

A solid witch design, I especially love the dimensional cape and hat. I also like the huge collar with the lace detail, but I’m not sure if it works with the hat brim. Not a big fan of the hair, I think it clutters the design. The snake leg accessory feels weird and a bit out of place but I do appreciate the asymmetry and also having something dark to break up the otherwise plain bottom part of the design.. 7/10.

Gekokujou Hana

I tend not to be a huge fan of kimono-based clothes, but this one is an exception I guess. The great colours must play a part in it, and the bottom part is fun. Then the dangly decorations add the correct amount of strangeness so it’s not just a bunny girl in a mini kimono Also, another tail, but this time it’s almost a requirement and I love how ridiculously huge it is (and also repeats elsewhere in her outfit). But really I can’t think of anything to dislike about this, must be the colours and the tail. 10/10.

Archfiend Pam

I believe this is the record on how little clothing you can wear in this franchise... At least she has the personality to pull that off. But that is not a top! At least it’s something new...? The wings fit the description in the story, but I don’t think these blank rectangles look very aesthetically pleasing. I like the tail best, the fur edge makes it a lot more interesting than just the usual demon tail. I don’t know, if the theme is a sexy demon girl this design definitely accomplishes it in a unique way, but also I don’t care for this fanservicey designs. Also not a fan of the hair. 4/10.

Pythie Frederica

Before drawing her for the chibi series I thought she had some kind of a helmet but upon closer inspection of course it’s a veil. But what are the horns? 

Upon closer inspection this one is also very fanservicey, in that her “dress” is actually see-through and the only thing covering the critical areas look like thin belt-thingies. At least she doesn’t look like she’s ten... But a major issue I have is the bottom part of her outfit, like how is it supposed to work? Is it one big piece of cloth, or multiple thin ones? What is the “fire” behind her? Is the dark part her hair, or the clothing, and is it supposed to be black or just shading? I do like the stars; otherwise the design gives a more mature “sexy” air, but the little stars everywhere adds a cute element. The colour palette is pleasing, but as much as I like multicoloured hair it doesn’t grant points this time, because the wiggly stray strands look very out of place here and the colour change makes them even more noticeable. 2/10.

Tot Pop

This one really isn’t my aesthetic, I very much prefer the cutesy style and there isn’t really anything ‘magical girl’ about this design. And it doesn’t really evoke the supposed image of ‘pop star’ to me either, like if you remove the guitar I’d think her theme was a prisoner or halloween. Though I don’t really know what a ‘pop star’ should look like anyway, like can’t they wear anything they want, I know Lady Gaga had a meat dress or something. But as of this design, I don’t think there’s anything specifically wrong with it, the colours are pleasing, the details are consistent and it’s not bland or boring either, but it just doesn’t do much for me because of the theme. I like the blood-stained hair and the spiky hair accessory, the long hanging part makes for a nice silhouette. Meanwhile the skulls on her shoulders feel somewhat tacked on, and in general I don’t care for piercings in anywhere else than ears. 5/10.

Pukin

And it’s a tail again. What is it with the stupid tacked on tails on every other design in this franchise? Sometimes it’s not so badly out of place, like if you have an youthful cutesy design, a fluffy animal tail can still add to the cute effect even if it’s otherwise out of place. But Pukin is supposed to be this dangerous and majestic authority figure and a cutesy tail very much doesn’t fit that image. And while we’re on the topic of animal features, the story describes that she has a feather decoration in her hair, but the way it’s drawn as a tiny feather jutting directly up in the middle of her head gives me more the impression of a character whose theme is a baby bird rather than a fantasy prince.

Now that we’ve dealt with the tail let’s get the biggest issue out of the way: I’m aware that there was a time in history when people used to wear these kind of giant ruffled collars but I really don’t care if there’s some kind of history based reasoning. It looks like your head is on a plate and it’s something I can’t ignore. I don’t feel even clowns can pull that off. There is no way getting around this.

When I first read Limited I thought Pukin’s appearance was an absolute mess and an instant 1/10, but upon closer inspection there is stuff I like about it too. She has a good colour palette, great shoes and gloves, and as a friend of multicoloured hair I welcome the yellow hair tips. The big heavy cape balances the small top and pants, and I really like the fur. Earrings go well with the pants too. The theme is a bit confused, or at least I don’t know of any fairy tales about pumpkin prince, but it’s not like I would complain about pineapple or cauliflower princess so that’s not really a problem. 3/10.

Sonia Bean

And we end Limited with yet another excellent design. I like how this manages to look kind of tattered and messy without actually being gross and dirty with the patchwork dress, dustball-like thingies, newspaper clippings and asymmetry. Even her hair looks disheveled. The headgear gives the design an old-fashioned vibe which suits her well since she’s so old. The light palette, soft design elements and ribbons give the look a cute feel, but at the same time she feels suspiciously pale, and the manic expression screams danger, like you can’t reason with this girl. She’s like a ghost of a Victorian era child who wants to play with you but you know you definitely should not follow her.

The design only works if I don’t think too much about it though, like dust is gross and newspaper paper is crinkly and not soft at all, but since we’re magical girls here I can ignore that and enjoy the image the clothing evokes. 10/10.

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

Limited average: 6,9.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Headfirst for Halos (ch.4)

Ship: Tate Langdon/fem!Reader

WARNINGS: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. strong language. physical abuse done to a child by a parent, death

general comments: the american rock band My Chemical Romance was referenced in this story, yes it doesn’t work with the timeline, no I do not care. pretend mcr was around in the 80′s and 90′s. overall, I’m pretty proud of how this turned out. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1 FOR AMERICAN HORROR STORY AHEAD. pre-death tate, pre-shooting tate, pre-beau death.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

_______________________________

The quiet hum of the small mechanical fan beside me is comforting, the soft feeling of Tate’s head on my shoulder grounding me. It’s been a day since the predicament in the bathroom, but things between Tate and I had already changed drastically. He’s more… touchy. He’s still a bit reserved, but he no longer strays away from me. His eyes have been darting to the old record player on my desk, the unspoken request to listen hanging in the air. I smile softly.

“Hey, I’m in the mood for some music. You got any requests?” I ask softly, gently moving away from the boy on the floor. 

“Actually, I’d like to hear what you’re into. You wear those My Chemical Romance shirts a lot, but I’ve never heard of ‘em.” My eyes widened in shock.

“You’ve never heard of My Chem? Dude, you gotta check ‘em out, their first album is revolutionary.” I’m already flicking through my boxes of records, stopping once I hit the orange hue of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. I ever-so-carefully take out the record, placing it gently on the small player. The needle slowly falls onto the dark vinyl, the soft tones of Romance filling the room. 

“You remember the shooting back in 74’? The Olean High School Shooting? Well, the lead singer, Gerard Way-- he was there. It shook him to the core, and he realized he wanted to make a difference in the world. He called anyone he knew who could play and instrument and the rest is history” Tate smiled at my antics. “It’s odd to think about MCR’s origins. It’s weird how something so… beautiful could come from something so horrible.”

“So, is it all angsty guitar playing?” Tate teases. I roll my eyes as the next track plays, softly singing along to the opening lines of Honey, This Mirror Isn’t Big Enough for the Two of Us. 

“You’ll come to discover the superiority of this album, Langdon, and you can quote me on that.” I winked, laughing at the way Tate’s face flushed. His endearing smile lingers on his face until the song comes to an end. Vampires Will Never Hurt You plays next, and Tate immediately reacts.

“Ooh, this one is actually really good.” I turn up the volume just a bit, my head snapping to the door as it swings open.

“Y/n, turn that bullshit off-- who the hell are you?” My mother snaps, her eyes narrowing at Tate. He seems shocked, so I speak for him.

“He’s my friend. I'll turn off the music, just leave us alone.” My mother glares at me before speaking again.

“Get the hell out of my house.” She says firmly to Tate. He quickly says goodbye and scurries out the door, leaving me and my mother alone. The air is heavy with anticipation, the strong smell of whisky hitting my nose. I’m glad Tate left. He shouldn’t have to see this. 

“Whore,” my mother growls. “I know what you kids do, you hide away in dark corners and feel each other up. Disgusting dirty little rats, that’s what you are and all you’ll ever be!” She shouts, and she strikes me across the face before I can process her words. It stings, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.

“I’ve never done anything like that with anyone!” I lied before ducking away from another swing. She stumbles, too drunk to stay steady. She crashes into my dresser, the sound of clattering items echoing through the room. My mother struggles to her feet, her eyes flicking to the record on my record player, and an evil smile grows on her face.

“You two really bonded over this, huh?” She shakily walks toward the record player.

“I told you, we didn’t do anth--” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, slut,” she spits. “I know what you do with the boys you bring around here-- the boys and the girls.” She grabs the shiny black record, clutching it in her hand.

“No daughter of mine is gonna be a whore, let alone a fucking faggot.” With that final statement, she hurls the record against the wall, shattering it completely. She stumbles out of the room, and I’m left to pick up the pieces. Again.

It’s not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. Even after I escape this hell house and this goddamn town, there’s always gonna be people like her. There’s always gonna be people who want to hurt me-- and that’s why vulnerability is bad. I want to protect Tate from people like my mother because I know Tate can’t defend himself. I finish picking up the leftover pieces of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. I hear the door open behind me, and I brace myself. 

“Y-Y/n?” the small voice of my little sister, Delilah, echoes through my room. I whip around and notice the tears in her eyes, the familiar look of fear behind her retinas. I open my arms to welcome here.

“What’s wrong, ‘lilah?” I coo, stroking her hair gently. She sniffles.

“Mommy is l-loud, she s-scared me.” Anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach; I’ll die before I let my mother harm Delilah.

“Did she hurt you, baby?” She shakes her head, resting her temple on my shoulder. “If she ever hurts you, or tries to hurt you, tell me.”

“Where did your boy go?” Delilah asks suddenly, turning to look around the room. 

“Tate? He left when mama came in. Why?” She smiles softly.

“He talked to me last night. I got scared in the dark and came in to sleep with you. He was there and he told me he really liked you.” She giggled slightly. “He said if any monsters tried to hurt me, he’d beat them up.” A smile broke out on my face, an odd, warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout my body. It’s good to know that Tate cares. Note to self: call Tate later. An idea pops into my head.

“Hey, ‘lilah, wanna go get some ice cream?” The young girl in my lap nods frantically. She scrambles to get her shoes on, her mint green pants a blur as she darts to collect her things. I laugh as I pull on my worn-down boots, grabbing my wallet from the desk as I do so. Delilah practically drags me out the door in a fit of anticipating giggles, the traumatic scene from before disappearing from my mind.  

______

By the time Delilah and I start walking home, the sun is low on the horizon, a navy blue intruding on the golden orange of the sunset. We’re not far from home, the tip of our roof peeking over some trees in the distance. Delilah is holding my hand tightly, her ice cream cone in the other. My face breaks out in a large grin when I see Tate walking towards us, his eyes lighting up behind his mess of curly hair. 

“Hey, stranger,” He calls out, jogging over to us. His eyes widen at the bruise on my face, his hand instinctively reaching out to grab mine. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I quickly peck him on the cheek. “I am now.” Delilah shivers, gently tugging my arm. She’s sleepy, I can tell. “Alright, we gotta get home. I’ll see you around, Langdon.” He smiles.

“See ya around,” He walks away and Delilah yawns. 

I immediately know something is wrong when I notice the front door is wide open. My stomach drops, and I turn to face Delilah.

“Lilah, stay here. Stand behind these trees until I come to get you okay?” She nods worriedly, planting her feet in the dirt. I ran into the house, grabbing my old baseball bat from the front entryway. My hands gripped the wooden bat so tightly my knuckles were a ghostly white. The house is dead silent, that is, until the loud clatter of the baseball bat hitting the floor. All the air leaves my lungs at the sight I’m faced with, pure terror coursing through my veins.

In the middle of the floor was my mother in a puddle of crimson blood, her throat slit. Her cold, dead eyes stared into mine. I screamed.

[anonil88]

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar. 

 "Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

 "Beep beep ghost busting in my,

 Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing.  Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and  fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road. 

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches  closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day. 

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window. 

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her. 

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach. 

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

 Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers. 

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes. 

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car  until  one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons. 

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes. 

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

[sunshobine]

Yoongi Is Dumb But so Are You

Fluff 3000 words roughly 

Author’s Note: Honestly if any of you guys can think of a better title for this hit me up because I do not title shit well.

Excerpt: Apparently, “God” has pale pink hair, pale skin, dark circles suspended under his half-closed eyes, and answers to the name of Yoongi. He partially sits against a wooden prop box, deep in conversation with the other main producers, Hoseok and Namjoon. They debate song lyrics, how it’s going to be difficult to add rap into such a balladic song and to maybe write something about the fleeting nature of butterflies. Yoongi is silent, cross-armed, and you can almost hear the words tossing around in his head, bouncing off to form lyrics.

1)

Taehyung is loud. Jungkook is a meme. Jimin is a little shit. And whoever said that using honey, sprinkles and confetti for a Bangtan photoshoot has obviously never had to deal with three strong male adults who harbour the mentality of eight-year-olds. Your ever-growing headache seems to get worse as the day drags on. Even with a mouthful of sugary excess, Taehyung still manages to yell louder than everybody else, and it’s leaving a ringing sound in your ears. Jimin, the fucker, will not tell you where he hid Namjoon’s Jacket. Right now, you’re trying to get Jungkook to stop sprinkling confetti like ‘salt bae’. You’re tempted to the slap the shit out of him when someone’s voice cuts through.

“Ya, you punks. Quiet down. Stop giving everyone around here a hard time.”

As if God had spoken, a hush falls across the studio. With the power of silence bestowed upon you, like Moses, you part the red sea. Or more accurately, you part Taehyung from five honey bear bottles.

The three forces of chaos simmer down and obediently follow “God's” word. You catch yourself muttering ‘Thank God’, before looking around to find “God” and thank him yourself. Picking up another jacket from the floor, you fold it absentmindedly while scanning the room.

Apparently, “God” has pale pink hair, pale skin, dark circles suspended under his half-closed eyes, and answers to the name of Yoongi. He partially sits against a wooden prop box, deep in conversation with the other main producers, Hoseok and Namjoon. They debate song lyrics, how it’s going to be difficult to add rap into such a balladic song and to maybe write something about the fleeting nature of butterflies. Yoongi is silent, cross-armed, and you can almost hear the words tossing around in his head, bouncing off to form lyrics.

Then, you remember that you have things to do too - Jin needs more glitter in his hair, the lights need adjusting from warm to cool colours and someone is faintly calling for more help in the distance. Yet just as you turn to the direction of the other voice, you feel yourself being watched. Almost immediately you snap your head back to find the pink-haired God with his eyes on you. The words 'thank you’ silently form on your lips. Yoongi responds with firm eye contact and a nod that seems akin to a professional handshake.

The distressed voice calls for you one more time, causing you to turn on your heels and run to save your colleague from misery. What you don’t notice is Yoongi’s lingering gaze following your rush.

“Yoon-ah? What do you think?” Hoseok asks.

Yoongi replies with ease, “I think metaphorical analogies are more of Namjoon’s thing, so I’ll let you take that one.”

“Thought you weren’t listening,” Blurts Namjoon.

“Use your honorifics. I’m still older than the both of you.

2)

The next time Yoongi graces you with a miracle is 4am inside a van going down the highway.

It’s easy to ask the question, 'Do we really, really, really have to leave at 2am in the morning to travel three hours for a photoshoot in the middle of a forest?’, though it’s a good thing Jin, the eldest member of the boyband, asks it. Anyone else would have lost their jobs. But if you consider how the boys used to sleep two hours a night only to spend the rest of the day in the dance studio, then taking a two hour nap in a van ride for a sunrise isn’t much. 

It’s a bit of a squeeze, really. Trying to fit the makeup, lights and camera, as well as the boys all into two vans means that there isn’t room for separating respective teams. Which is why you currently find yourself squashed between Yoongi and the window. You’re having a bit of trouble breathing, between the weight of your coworkers, your stuff pounding against you every time the van takes a turn, and Yoongi’s scent…

“Is this late for you?” Yoongi asks.

“Mmh?” You whip your head away from the window.

“Is this really late for you?” he repeats. 

“If we take into account that it is technically past midnight and therefore the beginning of the day, I guess I’m early." 

Yoongi half chuckles, "In that case, I was up really early at the studio.”

You copy his chuckle. This is easy small talk. It’s unusual for him to engage in small talk, not that he fumbles with his nerves like Jungkook who avoids eye contact with the female gender at all costs. The great Min Yoongi reserves his words, every syllable harbours meaning, every utterance serves a purpose. But you’re too tired to contemplate why he’s sparing his limited energy to talk to you. 

Suddenly, a rush of cold air from outside seeps into your shirt through your neck and down your spine, causing you to shiver. 

“Cold?” Yoongi asks.

“A bit,” you answer, and he raises an eyebrow, to which you quickly add “With all of the body heat, I’ll be warm again in no time.”

A small, slow smile creeps its way up to Yoongi’s lips and lingers for a moment before it’s interrupted by a yawn. You stifle a giggle at the adorableness of his yawn. It’s so different from the cold attire that his persona wears on stage. He blinks before squinting his eyes to ensure he did not simply imagine the softest little look on your face, the sort of look that makes you feel like you may or may not be melting. You reign yourself in, and you can only hope that the dim light in the van masked your face.

“You should take some rest now while you can, we’ve still got at least an hour and a half before we reach the woods."  You say, and the moment breaks. It crumbles at the edges and disasspiates. 

"Yeah. I should.”

“Yeah,” you echo, not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed at the dying conversation. You reluctantly turn to the window and watch his reflection huff and pull out his phone…

“Dude, get up, we’re here.”

Groggily, you wake up to see that the van has stopped. You’re warm, blissfully warm and cosy even with your head against the hard surface. You grab your things and attribute the warmth to the collective body heat of 15 people in a van. That is, before you notice the leather jacket draped over your hunched body. 

His leather jacket.

3)

He is dumb. This is dumb, leaning against the wall with a cup in each hand during staff lunch, Yoongi thinks. He is acutely aware of how dumb he looks, especially when Taehyung approaches with a couple of pizza slices in his hand.

“Hyung, why are you holding two cups?”

“Because they’re mine.”

“Just drink them like this.” Taehyung mimes two cups of his own and takes an imaginary sip from his left hand and then his right. “Then you’ll have both hands to hold pizza.”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi realises that perhaps he isn’t the stupidest looking person in the room. “Tae, I don’t understand how that would help.”

Five minutes later, Jimin offers to feed him pizza, pressing cold slices against his jaw. Looking at him, Yoongi decides that drinking coffee on an empty stomach isn’t the worst thing that can happen. And then he wonders. 

'Where the ever loving fuck are you?' 

On the other side of the building you are tired.  And when one is tired, it is easy for many things to seem like a happy coincidence. Especially for jobs in the creative industry, schedules are more of a suggestion - an ideal but not a necessity. Like right now, you are needed to carry a couple of boxes of equipment because you just so happened to be near the truck, which unfortunately turned into a ten-minute workout. So by the time you actually make it to the staff room, half of the pizza is already cradled in your co-worker’s grubby hands, or in Taehyung’s case, inhaled. You make a beeline for whatever’s left in the boxes.

You have half a margarita slice stuck between your teeth when Yoongi, his freshly dyed mint green hair shimmering under the halogen lights, approaches you. 

“Your tea,” he says curtly, as he shoves one of the cups into your hands.

A thousand question marks bubble above your head. How did he know this was your drink? When did you order it? Weren’t you away on your unnecessary workout? So many things sit at the tip of your tongue, so much so, that you open your mouth to speak, momentarily forgetting that you already had pizza in your mouth. 

Yoongi, the smooth bastard that he is, is already walking away with a slice in his hand,  leaving you standing by the boxes with a half-eaten bite of pizza oozing into the carpet. In your non-smoothness, you grab another slice and leave before anyone notices.

You sip at the rim of your cup to find your drink pleasantly warm, instead of scalding. It’s green tea, your favourite. Slowly, a dumb, bright smile spreads across your face, and you don’t even notice that you’re giggling into your cup. 

“Ah Hyung, you’ve finished both drinks?” Hoseok pipes in as Yoongi takes a bite. 

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you should go to the bathroom before dance practice, Hyung. That’s a lot of liquid." 

"I’m not Namjoon, don’t worry." 

Yoongi glances back at you, catching your smile. So, he muses, green tea is your favourite drink.

4)

It’s raining and pouring. You’re under the portico of the office, listening to the thunderclouds roar. 

Suddenly, there’s the sound of an umbrella opening followed by the sight of its underside hovering above your head. 

"You take the bus home, right?" 

There is the sight of Min Yoongi with tousled golden white bed head, much like a frazzled halo against his black umbrella. He looks like a grumpy angel. A cute, grumpy angel, who you remember asked you a question. 

"Yeah… I take the bus home,"  you manage to get out.

Yoongi nods, turning his eye to the outpouring haze of grey. Three steps into his walk forward, he realises that the space beside him under the umbrella is unoccupied.  Quizzically, he looks back to see you rise and fall on the balls of your feet, looking at the ground.

Maybe he needs to get into the habit of actually saying things, he ponders. Or not. He is a man of action, more the type to let his deeds do the talking, and so he does just that, tilting his head in a wordless motion to join him.

Not a drop of water hits you. You’re expecting a bit of splash, what with the strength of the rain, but you’re not. Instead, the guy who owns the actual umbrella has the top of his shirt soaked two shades down the colour scale. 

You state the obvious, “Your clothes are soaked,” automatically grabbing a spare packet of tissues and rigorously patting him. 

"My hat’s waterproof.”

“You know, you could have come back to get me.”

“Too lazy to move." 

"You moved your arm to cover me.” That sentence was finished with a smirk, almost detached from the tone of the words themselves.

The words are teasing, but the blush on your face says endearment. You both gaze upon each other but alternating, never quite matching up. But you know that you caught him staring with an expression that mirrors your own.

Somewhere between the banter, silence begins to kick in. Not an uncomfortable silence, but the type of silence that heightens every other sense.  You’re desperately aware of his elbow brushing against your arm, passing a delightful electricity across your skin even with the tiniest of movements. The tension in the air is thicker than the sheets of rain. 

“So Yoongi, when are you gonna ask me out?" 

If Yoongi is actually into you, his face certainly did not convey that. His reaction is instantaneous, mouth open in a small upside down semi-circle, his eyes pointed at you. Shock. Shock is the expression on his face. Shit. What started out as a confident request on your part fizzles out like flat coke. As if Yoongi’s face was not clear enough, lightning struck behind him. Even the Universe is saying 'Nah brah, he ain’t into you’. 

Yoongi returns to the world of the living, mind racing for the right thing to say when you spot a moving vehicle in the distance.

"Oh shit that’s my bus bye!” You bolt out into the rain, all the way to the bus stop. 

Yoongi’s still in shock, dumbfounded by everything that happened. There is a deafening quiet that follows, before he bursts into unrepressed laughter, like dropping a big bag of lemons, the  neon yellow rolling off in absurdity and painting the streets bright in its colour. You like him back. All this time he’s been wondering. You actually like him back. 

You hear footsteps behind you. You’re too far ahead at this point, skidding past the bus stop sign and onto the bus. The last thing you catch is your name on his lips before the bus doors close, cutting off the rest of his sentence. 

“That’s not your bus!”

5)

Yoongi doesn’t see you the next day. Which is alright. What with the intense choreography and the last minute editing sessions with Namjoon, he doesn’t really expect to cross paths with you. Yoongi doesn’t see you the day after that either, which is slightly worrying, but you’re ok, right? That night, Yoongi closes the tab with your Facebook profile on and goes to sleep, determined to find you the next day. 

Turns out, finding you is easier than Yoongi imagined. All he had to do was locate the direction of sneezing and there you are, mask across your face and struggling to carry a couple of cardboard boxes. The warmer tones in your skin have gone into hiding and the sparkles that tinted your eyes are replaced with a muted vacancy. Apparently you’re so out of it that you don’t even notice him until he’s right in front of you.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, in the way one might wake a sleeping child.

“Hmmhm?” You reply in an unenthusiastic zombie grumble, before lifting your gaze up to see who was talking. 

No no no no no nope. Fuck this shit you’re out. Maybe if you were in a better mental state, not feeling as if someone had swung a flaming axe at the back of your head and left it there; you would have behaved more maturely and said 'Hi’, politely engaged in some small talk and left like a normal person. Instead, you smushed the boxes tightly against your chest, turned on your heels, screamed “Maria, I’ve got the good stuff!” and sprinted in the opposite direction, far, far away from Yoongi. You don’t really know what happened, but you don’t really care, you just want to get the fuck outta there.

This afternoon, instead of going to lunch with the rest of your coworkers, you decide to find a spot to nurse your feverish head and take a nap. You stumble upon a quiet corner under the desk with a grey travel pillow and a jumper. It smells faintly of a comforting kind of musk, lulling you gently to sleep. 

When you come to, you see soft golden locks, somewhat like a frazzled halo. A big dumb smile stretches across your sleepy face until you realise, oh shit, it's  Yoongi. You scramble to get up and, with a bang, hit your head on the table. 

Of course, it wakes up Yoongi. You try moving backwards only to find a wall and realise you’re literally corned. Your next reaction is to interrogate him.

“Why are you-?”

“This is my napping place.” Yoongi interrupts, and it’s only now that you register that you have his leather jacket on your lap, a wet paper towel on your forehead and a packet of cold medicine nearby. 

Yoongi looks as if he’s slept on the ground on his side. Something inside you clenches tightly, almost squeezing tears out.

“Why do you keep treating me nicely? I’m sorry but I don’t like get it. Like, you are so nice to me and you buy me green tea and you give me your jacket and… uhh…uhh..”

You sneeze, snot dribbles down your nose and you just wanna curl up and die. Why can’t you just be a squid and excrete a fluid that scares people away? Carefully, Yoongi extracts a tissue from a packet and unfolds it before placing it in your hand. You take it with a thank you and warmth spills from your chest, reaching into your fingertips before a wash of ice smothers any emotions stirred. 

“Yes, exactly that. Why do you keep doing that?” You ask, exasperated. 

“Doing what?” Yoongi frowned quizzically.

The warmth that you once felt was replaced with a different kind of heat, and all the frustration that had been simmering underneath the surface bubbled and toppled out your lungs spitting and spewing in incoherency. 

“Being so fucking nice to me! Like you, you give me your jacket and you, you give me tissues and it’s not like I want you to be horrible but you keep doing all these lovely things to me and, and it makes me believe that you think about me the same way I think about you!”

Yoongi stares at you with a furrowed brow, opening his mouth slightly and shutting it again, tasting the words on his tongue carefully. But he doesn’t get a chance to string them into a sentence.

“Oh wait, are you the kind of person who is just this nice to everyone. Oh my god fuck off. Fuck off! Can you not, like be this nice and kind and you smell great y the way and… fuck. Why the fuck am I in love with an oblivious idiot I’m so fucked.”

You curl into yourself and groan. Yoongi is quietly chuckling, half admiring the adorable fluff that you are.

“The answer to your previous question is yesterday.” Yoongi says, tentatively awaiting your reaction.

Your eyes peek out from under your arms, looking positively like a lost kitten. It takes everything in him not to ruffle your hair and pick you up on his lap but he is a master of self control, so he chooses his words wisely instead.

“You asked me when was I going to ask you out, and the answer is yesterday.” He pauses, gauging your reaction, afraid one wrong letter and you’d disappear, “But I didn’t see you yesterday, or the day before that, so I didn’t get the chance.”

Yesterday, your supervisor sent you home so you spent your day waddled in tissues, watching Netflix and swatting away angels playing violins. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Um, yeah. I was sick so I wasn’t here. Sorry, I’m an idiot,” you manage to garble.

Yoongi tittered, reaching for something behind him. It’s a paper cup. Yoongi passes it slow enough for you to stop him, but you don’t, grazing his fingers when you take it into your hand. You realise it’s a peace offering when his face visibly relaxes from a tension you didn’t know was there. 

“Green tea”’ Yoongi states, his cool demeanour morphing into a gummy grin too sweet to taste. 

The tea swishes down your throat, awakening the temperate warmth that had once been extinguished, and you find yourself with a beaming smile that mirrors his.

[bitchardhendricks]

Well I’ve Never Been to Heaven (But I’ve Been to Oklahoma) Pt 5

Catch up on parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. Tell me what you think. Tell me Richard’s not the only one who has complicated feelings about home and what it means.

***

They finish dinner, Diane chattering about the goings on in the neighborhood, gossiping about Richard’s old classmates, and positively lighting up when she tells them Richard’s sister, Caitlyn, is taking the afternoon off and driving to Tulsa tomorrow from Oklahoma City, so she will arrive in the afternoon in time for family dinner at Brothers Houligan, Caitlyn’s favorite. 

Throughout this endless stream of words, Richard watches Jared hanging on every syllable. He’s eaten every last one of his carrots and potatoes, moving his roast into a neat pile on the side of his plate, and he laughs at all the right places, asks all the right questions that cause Richard’s mom to clap her hands in delight and coo over what a sweet boy he is. Richard mostly stays silent, staring down at his plate, thankful for someone who can finally play the role of the son his parents always wanted. 

It’s an unfair thought and he knows it, but seeing his parents so delighted feels like a weight has been lifted. If coming home were always like this, it would be so much easier. And Jared, god, Jared’s like a completely different person, all easygoing and unburdened...he looks good. Lighter, somehow. Maybe that’s just the consequence of having people around who notice him, ask about his life - fuck, Richard never asks him anything. Not unless it’s related to Pied Piper. All of their personal crap has been shoved out of the way because of Gavin fucking Belson and his fucking lawsuit and the monumental stress and anxiety and lack of sleep and like, defcon five-level emergency his life has been at for the past year. He shovels pot roast into his mouth and vows that when they get back to Palo Alto, he’ll do better, be better. Because it’s...nice. Nice to see Jared smile like this, to see him in his natural element among nice, normal people instead of their little band of freaks back at the incubator. 

A yellow, ugly bruise of a thought crosses his mind, and Richard bats it away as best he can but it lingers - in this moment, he wishes he could transfer his parents who care too much over to Jared, who's been cared for so little.

***

After dinner, they move to the living room to sit on the huge overstuffed sofa and watch recorded episodes of Jeopardy! that Steven had saved for Richard’s visit. It’s one of the few activities Richard and his dad can agree on, and for an hour or so, Richard is able to relax a little. There’s a category about North American birds that Jared sweeps, and he shoots a sunny, bashful smile at Richard when he gets the last one right. For the first time in months, the knot in Richard’s stomach begins to unclench.

But then Steven bids them goodnight and heads down the hall to get ready for bed, and Diane starts talking and the knot gets tighter, and Richard grinds his teeth until his jaw aches. It’s just - she never stops talking, even when she’s physically exhausted. “You boys must be tired after such a long day,” she says with a yawn, but she’s still stubbornly trying to stay up and get Richard to talk about his life, every question like lemon juice on a papercut. 

(“How are uh, oh the two that bicker all the time like old marrieds, you know--”

“Dinesh and Gilfoyle? Oh those two! Such fun. They fight, but I think they really cherish each other,” Jared supplies with a wistful smile.

“And Nelson? I mean, I talk to his mama, but I do worry about that boy. Such a sweetheart, but I swear he doesn’t have the sense the good lord gave a goose.”

“Big Head’s fine, mom. He’s great, actually, he’s got a boat. And a guy. For the boat, a boat guy, I mean, I guess you gotta have one if you...have a boat.”

“Oh! Well, that’s good. Good.”

She smiles, hopeful, tinged with expectation, always wanting more from him, always wanting something he just can’t seem to give her. 

When she gives up and launches into a story about Miss Louise down the street, whom Richard hasn’t talked to since he was 17, the familiar mix of relief and annoyance he feels is almost comforting.)

“I know it’s late, Mom, you wanna go watch Fallon with Dad.” 

A guilty look steals across her face as she protests, “No, I didn’t mean that! I just wanted to make sure y’all had what you needed. I already put fresh towels in your room, Richie, but let me just go fetch some for you, Jared, and I’ll put them in the guest room.” 

“Oh uh actually I think I’m gonna stay in the guest room. It’s uh, Jared talks in his sleep, so. To not wake you up, I thought, my room is uh, further away.” 

Diane’s eyebrows raise for a moment and she looks at her son like she isn’t quite sure what to make of him. “Okay, sweetie, that’s fine,” is all she says, and makes her way down the hall.

Richard turns to Jared on the couch, “Is that ok? I mean I just thought, with the German...”

Jared places one of his huge hands over his heart with an expression that means he’s about to start composing odes or sonnets or something, and Richard cuts him off quick, “It’s not a big deal, enjoy sleeping in a sad virgin’s bedroom. I mean I was, at the - I never, well I have now, I’m not anymore, I - I’ve had sex before!”

Diane clears her throat. “Fresh towels are laid out for you - you boys need anything else?”

Jared stands up from the couch to say, “Thank you, Diane, I think we have everything we need,” to allow Richard time for his blush to fade.

She says her goodnights, then makes her way down the hallway stifling another yawn. Jared turns to Richard and the sight feels surreal, incongruous, his lanky frame plopped in the middle of his childhood home. Richard suppresses the wild urge to laugh out loud at the turn his life has taken, somehow beyond his control; he has dreams sometimes where he is driving but can’t keep his eyes open, trying in vain to steer without careening off a cliff or into oncoming traffic. But no matter how hard he tries he can’t see, so he just keeps moving forward, knuckles white around the steering wheel, trying with all his might to get...somewhere. 

“I guess we should turn in as well, don’t you think?” Jared asks and Richard looks up, blinking at him. 

“Uhhh. Yeah, I - um, I guess.” The weight of the day is hanging around his neck, the tiny swp-swp-swp of the wicker-blade ceiling fan putting him into a sort of trance. He gets up and takes their bags, dragging them down the hall while Jared stops to stare at the photos hung there. The series of Richard’s school pictures, kindergarten to junior year arranged in small circles around the big circle in the middle containing his senior picture. Those dorky glasses, his ill-fitting polo shirt with the collar askew, his hair an afro-like halo of curls around his head. That wide smile, so much easier and open than he remembered being at the time. God, when was the last time you smiled like that? he asks himself. He has no answer.

The familiar drone of the newscasters on NewsChannel 8 drift down the hall from behind his parents’ closed door. His dad always kept the volume too loud. Inexplicably, Richard is surprised by a sudden wave of nostalgia so strong it almost makes him nauseous. Fondness and grief and the urge to hide away from everything are all mixed up inside him and he turns to Jared looking for - a solution? A distraction?  But clamps his mouth shut when he realizes belatedly that Jared doesn’t know what this feels like. He doesn’t have a home to go back to. 

“Hey Jared?”

He turns from the doorway of Richard’s old bedroom, looking a bit pink around the edges. Like Richard caught him doing something scandalous. The idea of Jared doing anything scandalous amuses him - this guy fucks, his mind supplies helpfully - and it’s enough to shake him out of his funk. This has been a long, long day and he knows exactly what will make him feel better. 

“It’s only 9:30 in Palo Alto. You wanna go somewhere?”

[eldritchsurveys]

740.

How many walls are in your bedroom? >> Six, because the closet juts out from one of the corners. What do you think about Fall Out Boy? >> I enjoy their music quite a bit, especially Save Rock and Roll and Mania. Do you know where Guatemala is? >> Generally, yes. Specifically, nope. Do you find musicians attractive? >> I think being skilled in an art form -- but especially music -- is attractive, but not, like, “I want to sleep with you”-attractive, which is what I think people mean by this question. Just... I like art, I especially like music, by extension I’m interested by people who make art and especially music. Do you like hard boiled eggs? >> Yeah.

Do you know anyone named Hector? >> I used to, but we didn’t really call him that, we called him Luis. Would you move to another country for the one you love? >> I’ve moved across country for someone, but emigration is a lot harder than that, so I don’t know. I think what’s more important is whether I could even emigrate in the first place, seeing as the process is difficult even for people with money and marketable skills... Do you own an instrument? >> No. What do you usually have for lunch? >> I don’t usually eat a lunch, per se. I kind of graze for most of the day. The most organised thing I might make is a sandwich or some microwave thing. Ever had a pregnancy scare? >> Yes. What do you think about the Purple People Eater? >> I don’t really know what it is, if I’m honest. I’ve heard the song and I’ve heard references to it, but that’s it. Are you pale or tan? >> Dark-skinned. I’ve seen complaints about the America-centric lines of questioning in surveys, but can we talk about the whiteness lmao... What’s the weather like right now? >> Cloudy and chilly. I don’t know where Lady Spring is, but someone please tell her that I am dying. Do you like cats? >> Not especially. I can live with one if I must, obviously, since I do; but I’m not really interested in his existence or anything. I’m kind of turned off by people going apeshit about cats all the time, if I’m honest, but it’s hard to be honest about that without people taking offense. It’s not you, it’s me, etc etc. (It’s probably because I’m a spider and everyone hates spiders.) What’s the best part about Wal*Mart? >> I don’t know, I’m not terribly fond of Wal*Mart myself. Do you think Akon is amazing or annoying? >> I haven’t heard his name in years, lmao. Also, I have no opinion. Do you like the buzz cigarettes give you? >> Yeah, which is the reason I pick up a clove every now and then. Sometimes I just want to get into that headspace. Are you a practical joker? >> No. Do you like pop? >> Not the Pepsi and Coke kinds. I like “weird” sodas, I guess. And ginger beer, which is sort of like a soda. What are you looking forward to? >> Hmm. Oh, Sparrow is going back to work on Monday, apparently! Out of context it sounds like I hate her or something, probably, but it’s not that at all. She’s the only person I can bear being quarantined with. But like, I just like being in the apartment alone for a while. I feel... constricted when someone else is around all the time, and while that’s lessened with her it isn’t nonexistent lmao. I just need time where I’m left to my own devices without being observed by other people, any other people, it’s a weird need but it’s mine and I’ll be glad to have that need met again. Have you ever laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe? >> Yeah. What’s your favorite band? >> The Receiving End of Sirens is one. Do you feel stupid when you spill things on yourself? >> Yeah. Are you excited for summer? >> I would be, under normal circumstances! Now I just dread having to be stuck inside for the whole thing. I’m going to try walking trails and stuff, just to... be the fuck outside, but still. Have you ever snuck out? >> No. When’s the last time you were kissed? >> Oh, I don’t know. Would you ever eat popcorn & salsa? >> No, thanks. Do you sleep with the television on? >> Nope. I require silence. The only exception is, say, I’m in a motel room and other guests are being rowdy. Then I’ll put on something to, like, have a controlled and constant sound going as a counter to their chaos. Would you ever want to be able to be invisible? >> I mean, sure, there are situations where I could see that being advantageous. What does your favorite shirt look like? >> I don’t have one. What’s your favorite scent? >> ^ Skype, Msn, Aim, or Yahoo? >> Discord. What’s your favorite time of the day? >> I like dawn. I also like dusk, but only in the summer. Summer dusk is a beautiful thing. Do you hate the phrase “love ya” when coming from a boyfriend/girlfriend? >> No...? What do you do when someone in the room has b.o.? >> Distance myself as much as possible, as discreetly as possible. I don’t want to embarrass them, I just don’t want to deal with sensory overload. What movie would you like to see right now? >> Oh, stuff. How many times a day do you shower? >> It depends on the day. Some days, zero. Some days, once. What do you think of the name Chloe? >> It’s all right. I wouldn’t give it to a character, but it’s all right. Do you like Hollister? >> I’ve never even been inside one. (I’m pretty sure that’s one of the stores that they spray fragrance throughout, like Abercrombie, so that’s all the reason I need to never go inside.) What’s your favorite alcoholic drink? >> Absinthe. Do you like 80’s music? >> Sure, some of the music I like was made in the eighties. Do you have to wear glasses or have contacts? >> No. Do you play Halo or Gears of War? >> I played Gears with a friend years ago. I don’t play it now, though. That kind of game is pretty much only enjoyable for me with a friend, so. How do you feel about cleaning? >> I hate it, but I love the results. What do you think of emo kids? >> I appreciate them. Do you like the movie Grease? >> I haven’t seen it since I was a teenager, probably, so I don’t really remember it. I just have a vague recollection of a couple of the songs, and I remember what the main characters looked like. I’d probably like it if I watched it again; my thing for greasers is still alive and kickin, after all. Do you like singing? >> Sure do.

What’s your favorite Jim Carrey movie? >> The Number 23! I love that movie so much. Now I want to rewatch it.... I’m going to rewatch it. I’m going to spend four dollars to rent it on YouTube as soon as I’m finished with this smh, I can’t resist. It just hits me right where I live,  something about it is so intensely relatable for me, I don’t know. Probably because I’m haunted by a number, too. Runner-up for fave Carrey flick is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. There’s a knock at your door at 4 in the morning; what do you do? >> Nothing. Whoever it is, we have no business with them. Do you like peaches? >> Sure. Ever lost a best friend? >> No.

Ever heard of a town called Wadena? >> No. Have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yes. What’s your favorite sport? >> Figure skating. What do you think about homeschooling? >> I’m interested in it, and the ways in which it can be implemented. I’m also pretty against a lot of things about public schooling in America, so, you know. What do you think about French people? >> I don’t have any opinions about French people. Do you like your parents? >> They don’t like me, which I think settles the issue right there. What do you think about Minnesota? >> I don’t have any thoughts about Minnesota. Do/did you like high school? >> I did not. Do you have any Asian friends? >> I’m acquainted with a few Asian people. Is it cold where you live? >> Yes, still. I fucking hate it. Do you find accents attractive? >> I mean, not as a rule. I find the mechanics of language interesting, so that attracts me, I guess. Do you hate it when people make spelling mistakes? >> No. Would you ever let your boyfriend/girlfriend do your makeup? >> Sure. She knows more about it than I do. Do you like to shop? >> No. How long are you on the computer during a 24 hour period? >> For just about the entire time I’m awake, nowadays. When I’m not in quarantine, then it depends on what else is happening that day. Is money really that important? >> I mean, sure it’s important. I can’t believe that would ever be in question. Wars are fought over it, people suffer and die because they don’t have enough of it, and people lose their whole sense of compassion and empathy when they have too much of it. It’s important, all right. Have you ever broken a bone? >> Nope. Who is your favorite family member? >> --- What size bed do you have? >> Twin, because it’s the only size that would fit in this room without making it utterly claustrophobic. I bark my elbow on the wall and accidentally knock shit off my nightstand all the time, but at least it’s a real bed that belongs to me, for once. What age do you want to be married? >> Well, I was 32, so.

What’s the last thing your wrote? >> Like, longhand? I have no idea. What do you think of your town? >> I don’t care for it. When’s the last time you played hide & go seek? >> Thanksgiving or some holiday like that. I played with Edward, who is a toddler. I always play with him when we see his parents on holidays, even when it makes me tired (where do kids get all that energy???), because I like him.

[orionsangel86]

Episode Review - 14x01 - Want, Everything, Sunshine, and Beyonce

Hellatus is over everyone! Put away the crack memes and shit posts and bring out your meta caps because we are back in business! Oh boy are we back in business! 

Right before @tinkdw came over to watch the premier with me, we discussed our expectations and both agreed that whilst our expectations were pretty much in our boots, we would consider the episode a success if it was even remotely meta. We wanted to be able to see clearly constructed themes both as a continuation of what had come previously and as a foundation for a strong season going forward. We were both hoping that at least from a meta perspective, that the episode would leave us happy and thirsting for more.

Dabb did not disappoint us.

It was such a strong episode meta-wise. There is a lot to pick apart that is ripe for discussion and I seriously hope that Dabb will keep a close eye on the other writers to ensure that these themes continue throughout the season. Plot-wise it was a weaker episode, but then again Dabb has always focused on the character emotional arcs more than the actual plot points in recent years, and I am grateful for that. The second half of season 13 felt stagnant to me simply because there was little to no character development and from a meta perspective it was also extremely weak. I went into this hellatus feeling negative about the show simply because I hadn’t actually enjoyed an episode properly since 13x12. However, the season 14 opener was most definitely enough to quench my thirst and get me excited for the coming season. Fingers crossed it goes from strength to strength.

Long review under the cut

Michael!Dean - What Do You Want

Straight in after the introductory Nyoooom of Baby (driven by a grim looking Sam and a pretty impressive swap from title music to diegetic music), we are introduced to the angel of the hour. 

8 Things about Michael:

1. I am not sure how I feel about Jensen’s performance right now. He is playing Michael extremely straight and whilst I can see how this cold, calm portrayal can come across quite terrifying, it’s not a carry over from Christian Key’s performance. I don’t want to be too critical, because we only saw him in a few scenes so far, but when I compare it to how Tahmoh portrayed Gadreel alongside Jared, and the way Misha pretty much nailed Mark P’s performance (and greatly improved it), I guess I’m still waiting for Jensen to WOW me in the role. The one thing I will say is that he did terrify me and managed to come across creepy when acting alongside his own WIFE. So he's doing something right I'll give him that. When Jensen wants to have chemistry with someone, he does.

2. I like the fact that Michael’s goal right now seems to be to educate himself on our world. He’s not running around causing terror and mayhem like Lucifer, he’s learning how best to go about “improving” the world. He also appears to be inspiring people with his words: “Holy men, leaders, killers” and we have seen the effect he had already on Kip the Demon - who was inspired to run for King of Hell until Sam Fucking Winchester ruined that plan. I wonder if we will be seeing the fallout of Michael’s specific type of inspiration throughout the season.

3. “What do you want?” Obviously this question is an important one. It was repeated like six times throughout the episode, though never to the main characters. It looks like this is going to be the theme of the season and as far as TFW’s personal journey’s go, this is now the question we are asking them and the question being explored. What does Sam want? Or Cas? Or Dean? This has an endgame flavour to it that has me extremely excited. 

4.Michael’s own personal want of “A better world” is a follow on in a way of many of the villains that have come before him. For seasons now we have been exploring this concept of improving the world for the better. We had it first in season 8 when the brothers had the goal to do the trials to make a world without demons, in season 11 Amara’s vision was to destroy so she could reshape the world to her own blueprints that she saw as better than Chuck’s. Dabb era has been even more obvious, first with the goal of the British Men of Letters being “a world without monsters” which was shared by Mary wanting a better world for her boys, and then in season 13 Jack’s arrival floated the idea of “paradise world” to Castiel. I don’t think Michael is gonna fair any better than any of these others, and wonder exactly where all these escalated versions of “a better world” will end up. It's all exploring the notion that nothing is black and white, but in fact a grey area.

5. I already discussed Michael and Sister Jo here. Cas mirrors... Cas mirrors everywhere... I also side eye the "pretty things" line because it reaks of Dean and his whole sublimation thing. In that sense it seems Dabb is making Jo a mirror for both our boys. I'll be keeping a close eye on her from now on.

6. ”Why would he say yes to you?” “Love”. OH DEAN. Just, Dean wasn’t in this episode but my god did we feel his presence RIGHT HERE. And to think there are people out there that still think this is a macho mans show about macho manly men. I’ve never known another character with more heart than Dean Winchester. This show is about LOVE above all things. I wish people would stop trying to deny that fact.

7. Radioactive Pigeon:

Look I’m not trying to be critical okay it’s very pretty and this is the FIRST time they have attempted showing an angels true form and that is amazeballs and all, but still. He has little pigeon wings and a bent halo. Pfft.

8. The Purity of Vampires. I actually love this. I think it comes across a bit silly on the surface, but the whole idea of monsters being pure is a massive callback to purgatory and season 8 and anything that calls back to season 8 makes me happy. 

Sam Fucking Winchester

Excuse me while I scream HELL YES. I have been waiting for Sam to take on the leadership role for AGES. Honestly this was always my dream endgame for Sam. To organise and lead the hunting community. There’s your better world guys. It was something that the writers flirted with in late season 12, but at the time Sam only took on the position with Dean’s approval and encouragement to go ahead. Sam has always stepped back and let Dean take the lead throughout the show as the big brother and parental figure. I think this was always a role he was destined to fill and something that has been building in the subtext for a long time (much the same way as the toxic codependency has been shown to hold Sam back.) 

What’s of interest here is what will happen when Dean comes back and is fighting fit. Will Sam relinquish his leadership position to Dean? Or fight for it? Will this cause conflict? I read this amazing meta on this which turned into an epic discussion and I highly recommend reading it. My HEART.

Sam’s state in the episode is one of constant motion. He cannot stop for a second, always being pulled from one thing to another. He doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t get to change out of his hideous blue and orange shirt (which is officially now my favourite Sam shirt), he doesn’t even get to finish his soup. I know Jared said that Sam had a ‘grief beard’ but Tink and I are adamant that the beard is simply due to the fact that Sam doesn’t get the time to shave. He has taken so much weight on his shoulders and in amongst that has to deal with horribly traumatic things such as face the face of his abuser and actually be a healer to him. Sam doesn't get a moment to himself and spends all his time concerned about others. It's very noble of him, but he's going through the motions.

Sam is the contrast here to both Cas and Dean, who are physically and mentally stuck in their awful situations. Sam is also stuck in a way, stuck with no time to actually contemplate the situation he has got himself in. Stuck without a moment to breath, or to grieve his brother. Stuck holding the weight of the world on his shoulders as every other single character looks to him for support, help and guidance. Sam is the motherfucking Beyonce of the episode, that is for certain.

He is also calling the shots on hell now...

(x)

... I find it amusing that back in the early days Sam's destiny was to be the boy king of hell, and it's almost like he's fulfilled that destiny, not by being king, but by being gatekeeper and in a position powerful enough to scare the demons into submission. This is probably what Crowley intended. Sam probably owns the moon now.

About Nick - Well, first of all, I TOLD YOU SO. I did say that I could tell the guy from the back of his head and I was damn right about that. Learn to trust me guys I am occasionally good at this stuff. Okay, now that that is out of my system, let’s talk about this. Round of applause for Jared in this scene. Because he takes Sam’s hell trauma extremely seriously and made sure that every nuance, every twitch, was picked up by those camera’s. I loved that. Potentially Nick could be a good way to help Sam heal in the coming season, as Sam has finally freed himself from Lucifer’s grasp. Is it fair that he should have to look after the face that tormented him for years? No. Not at all, but could it prove somewhat cathartic in the end? Maybe. 

At the end of the day, Dabb must have considered Nick to have a purpose beyond “I want to give Bucklemming something to play with so they don’t fuck up my actual story” and “We need to keep stroking Mark P’s ego for some stupid reason”. Because otherwise I am really worried about how limited his power must be, and refuse to entertain the thought that he was overthrown by Singer and his horrid wife. I can see the potential in Nick being a dark mirror for Dean following his freedom from Michael’s possession. How Nick deals with the post possession trauma could be an indicator to how Dean is really coping even when he buries it.

At the same time, both Sam and Cas have been possessed by Lucifer, and therefore have all the experience between them to help Dean’s recovery without needing Nick to get involved. So I dunno guys. I’m trying to see the positive in something I otherwise despise. 

Anyway I thought Jared was fucking superb in that scene and pretty much the whole episode and want to give him a round of applause because it is rare that he truly gets to shine on his own without Jensen by his side.

Now all we need is for Sam to get some sleep. How he is still functioning by the episodes end I will never understand.

Castiel Everything Winchester

(x)

Look at him. So defiant and done. You can almost imagine that fire behind him burning in his eyes as well. He’s such a dom.

Several things about Cas in 14x01:

1. He is 100% done with every demon on the planet and doesn’t give a fuck. Honestly though. The way he says “Oh God” when Kip walks in. The way he rolls his eyes. I wonder if he had Dean’s voice in his head saying “You know who wears sunglasses indoors Cas? Douchebags.” 

2. He is making desperate choices in order to save Dean, which is certainly typical for him. The fact that he spends the entire episode stuck in a chair is a fantastic metaphor for his whole feelings on the situation, a metaphor then reinforced through a mirror at the end when he speaks with Jack (we never get anything explicit with Cas do we?). The fact that Cas can’t save Dean right now is weighing on him, but he is determined to do whatever it takes. The conversation he has with Sam at the end is a brilliantly short but important moment:

“I should never have gone to those demons”

“Cas no I don’t blame you. honestly I wish I had thought of it first. If it meant finding Dean I’d work with.. I’d do anything.”

The takeaway here is that actions speak louder than words. Sam HAS been distracted being leader of the hunters and having to face his own nightmares thanks to Nick, but Cas has literally been doing anything he can with a soul focus on saving Dean. 

It's an intimate moment between them. In a bunker now bustling with life and movement this is the only time in the episode that it really seems still. The library has always been Sam's private space, where he feels most at home - like the kitchen is for Dean. But here he and Cas sit as equals together weighed down by their shared grief. It's the soft moments like this that I love the most about this show. They are both willing to do anything they can, but the difference is that whilst Sam is being pulled in lots of different directions, Cas’s sole focus is Dean. Note that heaven wasn’t mentioned once. It hasn’t even crossed his mind.

3. Everyone Knows, but Cas doesn’t give a shit. 

“How is it you lost Dean, I thought you guys were joined at the... well you know, everything.”

It is an extremely explicit nod to Destiel. It is also the first time a line like this has made it into an episode since season 7 I think. The difference now being that we’ve had years of steady subtext and narrative building on the love story, hence the line has a different weight to those previously. It was very carefully written, careful not to imply that Cas was joined to BOTH Winchesters as the line was specifically about Dean. It was written by the showrunner, who would have known the significance of such a line, it encourages the view that all of heaven and hell have made their own assumptions about Dean and Cas’s relationship, and in case anyone wants to argue that the missing word was “hip” like the saying goes, the gesture and nod by Kip goes to prove otherwise. In other words, there is no platonic interpretation. Which is delightful.

Cas’s completely stoic silence is even more delightful. God I love him.

4. He can’t see demons true faces anymore. Like everyone else, Cas not realising those people were demons really threw me for a moment. Tink and I both agreed that the scene should have had Kip snap his fingers and have the demons smoke in and possess all those people instead - still catching Cas off guard but not making it seem like he is just super unobservant. I personally feel like this was just an error Dabb made. I have no desire to try to meta explain that one and I accept it as the error it is. I do like that it took an entire room of demons and 4 sets of enochian hand cuffs to overpower him though...The fact that he had to sit there and watch his family be beaten and almost killed around him whilst he was helpless again, is an excellent parallel to Dean’s current situation and what he will most likely have to face in the coming episodes, and also a reflection of Cas’s mental state (as mentioned above), Coming out of this episode it seems like this will be another season where Cas and Dean mirror each other and walk similar paths in terms of growth and development - if only those paths would meet with a kiss!

5. He’s the bait. Tink found this line hilarious straight away, where as I had to blink and ask why because I obviously took offence. But once we started discussing it and realised the quadruple entendre it is I found myself applauding Dabb on his genius. Cas IS used as bait, by the SPN PR people. Because he’s Mister Popularity. He’s also the character who causes the most conflict in fandom, with those who love him so much they are bitter and mean and those who simply hate him often complaining about the exact same things but in different ways - leaving the regular fans stuck in the middle (Tink explained this to me with delight - how both anti’s and bitter!cas girls alike will latch onto that line for completely different reasons). He’s also potentially a queerbait depending on how you look at it. But anyway. Cas’s epic eye rolls in this episode were almost enough to rival Sam’s bitchfaces. I am impressed.

6. He takes no pleasure for himself. I am forever going to obsess over Cas’s relationship with human food and drink:

“Coffee has no effect on me.”

“Me either, not anymore. But its like with saltwater taffee or infants, you know I just like the taste”

Although we can argue his refusal is out of stubbornness to not give the demon the satisfaction, even when accepting drinks from the Winchesters he doesn’t usually bother, or will stick with water. Even if he is seen ordering coffee it is usually only to avoid looking suspicious in diners. We know Cas enjoys some food and drink, but Cas rarely allows himself the pleasure. Even in 13x14 when Dean offered him a beer, it remained unopened. A symbolic metaphor for Cas refraining from indulging in other pleasures? This is why I am so so desperate for Michael to ask Cas what it is HE wants. Lucifer stated that Cas was a “pleasureless dullard” and I want to see this theme continue. Cas uses his grace as an excuse not to indulge and I consider this linked to meta about the “sacred oath” of heaven and Cas being duty bound and numbed by his grace. But these are all elements for a bigger meta at another time and the moment in this episode is just another snippet of that.

7. He looks awesome framed in fire. I just really liked the set up of Motown Meats as the new hang out for hell, with its fire pit and orange glowy bar. There is a lot of general symbolism there but I enjoyed the flames framed behind Cas in every shot he was in. Because even though he was mostly stuck in this episode, that fire raging inside him didn’t burn out once. He WILL save Dean. Just as he promised to Jack at the end, even if he get’s battered, beaten and bruised, his determined stubborness to save his husband will win eventually. Cas is no longer the broken thing of seasons 11/12. He well and truly rose like a phoenix in season 13 and now it’s showing through, as it’s a mission fueled by his own passion and love.

Jack Winchester (AKA my nougat son)

Poor Jack, like his father he hasn't had it easy in 14x01. He is struggling with his humanity now, his usefulness, in such a clear mirror to Cas that it kinda hits you in the face. He is desperately seeking guidance from those around him. First in the form of AU Bobby who has clearly bonded with Jack following their experiences together in apocalypse world.

It is great to finally see the Bunker gym! A room we all have ingrained in our fandom hive mind thanks to a 100 destiel fanfics. We all know what's gone on in there. >.>

Throughout the episode, Jack seeks out guidance first with Bobby, which goes badly, then with Sam, which is interrupted, and finally with Cas, which is when he finally gets told what he needs to hear. I am really happy that whilst Jack has so many father figures now, it is Cas who truly holds that torch and is able at least somewhat give Jack what he needs near the episodes end. If only he had damn well given his son a hug!

I loved the conversation so much that I transcripted it here:

JACK: I’m fine.

CAS: You did well

JACK: All I did was get punched. In the face

CAS: To be fair we all got punched in the face

JACK: That’s not - Before when I had my powers I could have done something

CAS: Jack you don’t have your powers, and your grace should regenerate in time, but until then..

JACK: I’m useless. I cant kill demons I cant find Dean and Michael is in our world and I cant stop him.

I can’t do anything. I don’t have anything.

CAS: Oh Jack. That’s just not true. You’ve got me. You have all of us. You have your family.

And we are going to find dean and we are going to beat Michael and we are going to do it together. Because that’s what we do.

This whole conversation was PERFECT. Every line chosen so specifically and weighted with meaning. Urgh Dabb I fucking love you for this.

Jack starts with “I’m fine” which Cas knows by now means you are not fine but he has also learned to recognise that sometimes it doesn’t mean “leave me alone” as Jack was crying out for guidance and support here. 

The mirrored “got punched in the face” calls to attention the fact that Jack is a reflection of Cas himself here and everything he has felt both now and in the past.

Jack’s complaint about being useless without his powers is a fear Cas has carried with him since his fall in season 9. It’s something that still weighs on him and whilst Cas now knows his place by the Winchester’s side, knows that they are a family and that he is not just a hammer, I think that fear of losing his power and being cast out is still well and truly weighing him down. It will be cathartic for Cas to see the family accept Jack as one of their own even if he is “useless” and human. 

Cas’s “That’s just not true” when Jack says he is useless - his voice breaks and you KNOW Cas has had those exact same thoughts.

“you’ve got me, you’ve got all of us. You have your family” compared to You’re my family, I love you, I love all of you” compared to “We're family. We need you. I need you.” The difference is there is no ambiguity in the word ME. Dabb turned it around, but had Cas clear it up. It’s the same line every time. The only difference is the placement of each individual statement. If this isn’t yet another clear example that the “I love you” was specifically directed at Dean I don’t know what is. THIS IS A CONTINUING PATTERN PEOPLE.

The determined promise to save Dean at the end, right after he specifies the singular and plural because obviously Dean was on Cas’s mind at that point - Mister I Don’t Get Words Wrong over here knows exactly what he means.

I love this whole conversation, but as I said above, it drums home the fact that whilst the Winchesters and others may be sources of guidance and support for Jack, he only has one true father, and I think Dabb wanted to make that clear in this episode. Remember:

Fingers crossed for more father/son bonding between these two in future episodes.

Mary and Bobby

(x)

Baring in mind I was expecting 1 small Destiel moment in the episode in the form of a line from a demon. You have NO IDEA how happy this moment between Mary and Bobby made me. If anyone saw that inktober pic I drew for premier day of me and Tink gasping in shock at the screen, it was for THIS moment. My face lit up in delight.

I said at the start of this long review that Dabb picked his moments well. With every second counting from a meta perspective. This was one of those.

Tell me, anyone, when watching that moment, would you deny that there was something between Bobby and Mary? As homework I'd like you all to play this scene to your heteronormative friends and family, or even be brave and ask a bibro. Would ANYONE deny that it was intended to be romantic?! I highly doubt it.

And yet there was nothing textually explicitly romantic about it. There was NOTHING in this scene that hasn’t been filmed a thousand times between Dean and Cas. The fact that Dabb chose to write this extremely small seemingly unimportant moment, in the kitchen, and for Bobby to use THOSE EXACT WORDS. As I have mentioned several times already, Dabb doesn’t fuck around when using well known moments from past canon in order to reinforce the importance of a thing. Dabb LOVES parallels. He wrote Bloodlines after all. He also knows the fandom hive mind and the things we pick up on and latch on to. This was a very smart calculated decision to include this in the episode and I am LIVING that he did it. GIVE ME ALL THE BOBBY x MARY/ DESTIEL PARALLELS. 

...

I actually really liked Mary in this episode. There is so much discourse in fandom about her and whilst I find Sam Smith pretty cold and wooden, I have never understood the utter hatred of Mary as a character. Hence why I praise Dabb’s genius at this moment:

(x)

Because this line literally sums up her entire arc since her return. Tink and I paused the episode and basically flailed at each other because this is EXACTLY what Mary has been trying to do. She was in HEAVEN, with her BABIES and suddenly she is back on earth with two grown men who are strangers to her, telling her they are hunters and have suffered a life of HORRORS without her. So she ran. Hell, I would have ran too. She shoved herself into hunting because all she could think about was trying to make things GOOD for her boys. Trying to FIX her mistakes the only way she knew how: by HUNTING. She was drowning in the bad. So she found focus in trying to make things good. Like in this episode, she reassures Sam so much that he snaps at her. He doesn’t want to be reassured, and that’s fine. But my god this felt like the first time Mary has truly had a voice. I really weren’t kidding when I said that Dabb made sure every word counted.

OTHER THINGS

I am unsure how I feel about the title card:

Tink called it. I think it looks a bit odd, a bit too clean. I like the title cards to be grim and dark. Black angel wings though! And hey, at least the fiery halos in the title cards are perfectly spherical... so we know they CAN do it right...

*side eyes SFX team*

Kip as a wannabe Crowley was kinda fun for a one off episode but I am glad that they are stressing now that wannabe Crowley’s get killed. The last one we had was Bart in 13x08 who was very much the same flirtatious queer coded demon. I’m fed up with the villainous queer coding by now. It’s been done too often. Give me another Demon like Alastair or Ramiel or none at all.

“Asmodeus Kentucky Fried” DID ANYONE LIKE ASMODEUS OTHER THAN BUCKLEMMING? This made me LOL.

The fight scene at the end was really weird and overly long. I dunno why they decided on so many random slow mo and wooosh shots. the whole Mary slow mo throwing the blade at Sam was cringy. I wish they’d stop being experimental and stick with what they know! You think they’d learn after 13x23!

Maggie was a bit annoying. Why bring her along if she can’t fight? Also the random cuts to her reaction after Jack was angsty had me reeling. simply because in het couples that’s a brewing romance and that is a massive NOPE from me. I like her as an individual character, I DO NOT like her as a love interest to a 1 year old, and I certainly wouldn’t like some pining story for her where she falls for an unavailable guy. It’s not fair on her character. The one thing I did like was the “pointy end” comment. It reminded me of Charlie for some reason.

The throw away line about Ketch being in London looking for the golden egg Lucifer/president extractor. Nice closing of a plot hole there Dabb.

I liked the Jesus weapon expert hunter dude. He seemed quirky. Dead man’s blood bullets are an excellent idea. 

DETROIT. Why does everything always happen in Detroit? I swear one day they are gonna reveal that Detroit is like a central universal power hub where the walls between the dimensions are thinnest or something. I could go on about this but I am sure a better meta writer elsewhere already has and this is waaay too long so I’m leaving this here.

If you got this far. Kudos and thank you for sticking around to read my thoughts. Feel free to ask me anything about any of the above. If I could hand out cookies through the internet I totally would right now.

Basically I enjoyed the episode. I have since re-watched it a dozen times and it is really the meta of it all that makes me love it. The story IS weak, and there ARE moments that are a bit odd, or infuriating depending on the way you look at it, but the heart of the episode was classic Dabb. All character driven and full of meaning. I am extremely well fed after this meta feast, perhaps even enough to get me through the horror show that will be Bucklemming’s 14x02. 

So long as Cas continues to look like a sexy beast I’m sure I’ll get through it.

I’ll just leave this here:

God he’s such a dom. :P

[monicaagauthor]

WITCHES IN THE REGIONS

BY: Monica A. G

(C) Copyright Monica A. G "Witches In The Regions" 2019.

All rights reserved. This material may not be replicated or store electronically or in hard copy in any form without express written permission from the author.

CHAPTER 1

(unedited)

Deep in a green valley surrounded by wildflowers was a large castle, a castle with tall billowing towers filled with students but not just ordinary students, no this school was full of unique students, powerful students, magical students, this school was full of soon to be witches and wizards. It was known as the Witchling Academy and taught young magical students as young as 3 years old to 13 years old. The Witchling Academy students where from villages, towns and cities all around the Northern Region because there were still not many witches and wizards in any of the Four Regions, but each year there numbers slowly started to grow.

A young girl with extremely wavy light hair ways down her back and a scar over the bridge of her nose was one of the students who had just finished her last day of Witchling Academy, her name was Suzoo Magik. She waved a piece of long parchment paper in the air and spun around with a smile as she read.

DEAR STUDENT;

I hear by congratulate you on your success of Graduating from Witchling School Academy. For the next Four(4) year term you are to travel with the aid of an S.A.C.A around the Four Regions, North, South, East and West, to study, learn and develop your wizarding skills and abilities to qualify to be a fully qualified witch or wizard.

Leave time for New term will be 12am August 30th on Hall Hill.

Blessings to you on your new journey and may you learn the power and value of your skills.

Signed

Headmaster Valikar

“I can’t believe we’re already graduating.” Another girl was saying as she walked by with her own friends gawking at her graduation paper.

“You realize this will be our last summer together.” A shorter girl with extremely curly hair that haloed her head pouted slightly elbowing Suzoo’s arm.

“I know Ellie, but we’ll make it the best one yet, and aren’t you excited?” Suzoo asked rolling up the parchment paper stuffing it into the bag she had hanging off her shoulder.

Ellie Forest had been Suzoo’s best friend at Witchling Academy since they both entered at 3 years old.

“I guess, I’m nervous too though aren’t you? What If I forget something I need?” Ellie asked pushing some curls from her eyes.

“Not really, and I’m sure you’d figure it out.” Suzoo shrugged but smiled sympathetically to her friend.

“We have two whole months before we have to worry about anything though so lets enjoy it!” Suzoo added lacing her arm with her friend as they left the school grounds.

After Suzoo celebrated her graduation with her father, grandmother and some of her other family members, the summer seem to race by with beach visits, sleepovers, flying around and exploring on bright summer days and trying to stay awake to not miss even more excitement.

The morning of August 29th Suzoo flew a few houses over to Ellie’s on an old broom her father had owned and handed down to her when she started her 6th year at Witchling Academy, she found her friend in a complete panic.

“One bag! How am I suppose to fit everything into one bag!” Ellie shrieked when Suzoo pushed the door to her bedroom open causing a mountain slide of books, bottled items, parchment paper and clothes.

“Use a spell?” Suzoo suggested surprised her friend hadn’t already had everything packed and ready.

“I don’t know that spell yet, do you?”

“Er- No, not off hand anyways.” Suzoo and Ellie knew a lot of magic but there was still a lot they had to learn too.

Ellie took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment then let it out lifting up the long thin black wand she held in her hand.

“Net Toyer.” Ellie said as she gave the wand a wave and the books, cloths, jars, bottles of items and papers began to lift themselves up and shuffle back neatly in the room clearing away the mess.

“I can’t wait until we’re sixteen and don’t have to actually say the darn spells out loud.” Ellie placed the wand in its own thin pouch that was hooked to a belt on her waist, as she pulled her very large, overly packed bag onto her back. The small girl seem to carry it with ease.

“Couldn’t find a spell to make it fit more, but I found one to make it lighter.”

Ellie said examining a jar in her hands she had grabbed before they left her room and walked down the hall to the kitchen.

“Last baby going off! Can you believe this! Alright hug and kiss, be safe, be good and I’ll see you tonight okay?”

Ellie’s mother Mrs. Forest gave her a big, long hug before kissing both her checks before stepping back from the front door.

“Tell your dad and grandparents I say hi!” Mrs. Forest called as they left the house.

Suzoo and Ellie flew back to Suzoo’s house and the two spent the rest of the day reading over useful spells they might need, like a night-light spell or spark spell to start a fire, at 1pm Suzoo’s dad poked his head into his daughters room, his hair the same light shade as Suzoo’s but with a few more greys, dressed in jeans and white collard shirt.

“Alright its already 1 in the afternoon, you want any chance of being able to fly tonight and not fall asleep on your brooms you better get some shut eye.” Mr. Magik winked at them before he gave a quick flick of his own wand and the curtains in Suzoo’s room closed and turned from a transparent yellow to solid black, the room becoming dark instantly.

“Thanks dad.” Suzoo said rolling her eyes trying not to smile from excitement.

The friends stayed up a little longer talking about what area in the North Region they were going to go to before they both finally fell asleep.

When Mr. Magik woke up Suzoo and Ellie a few hours later the sun had already sunk deep behind the horizon and it took them both a few moments to realize what was happening. Once they did it didn’t take them long to get ready and be waiting impatiently by the front door to the Magik families house.

“Come on dad we don’t want to be late! Everyone will be there already!” Suzoo called standing in the doorway, her bag hanging from her shoulder full of her clothes, tooth brush, some books, food and a few other items she thought may come in handy and her fathers broom in hand, Ellie stood behind her outside, the over sized backpack strapped to the small girls back, her own broom, quiet a few years newer then Suzoo’s, in her hands as they trembled slightly.

“This is it.” Ellie kept muttering under her breath until Mr. Magik finally made his way down the stairs, a briefcase with a single strap slung over his shoulder, an even older broom covered in cracks, large scratches and even a burn mark that belonged to Suzoo’s grandfather in his hands. After Suzoo gave her grandparents a finally goodbye hug the three mounted their brooms and they left the slightly leaning, two story house that had windows almost the same size as the walls and moguls of large grassy hills surrounding it behind as they flew to Hall Hill.

It didn’t take them long to reach Hall Hill, it was the tallest grass covered hill in the town, thick trees lined up in a row on either sides of it like a long hallway that opened up to a large flat, clear grassy hill top. When Mr. Magik, Suzoo and Ellie came into the clearing there were already a number of students and parents there along with a few of Witchling Academy’s teachers and Headmaster Professor Valikar. Ellie ran to give her mom a hug when she spotted her in the crowd and before Suzoo could follow to say hello Mr. Magik had grabbed her gently by the shoulder and walked her off to the side of the clearing.

“I’m going to miss you Sparks-”

“Dad.” Suzoo groaned, Sparks was a very old nickname Suzoo’s dad had given her after she got angry at him when she was two and short-circuited the house after blowing a fuse, Mr. Magik joked constantly when she was younger about how he saw sparks fly from every outlet and that’s where he got the nickname.

“I got you something to show you how proud I am-”

“Dad!” Suzoo groaned again this time smiling, she wasn’t one for sentimental conversations, but what 13 year old was.

Mr. Magik grinned placing his broom down, before reaching into the briefcase hanging from his side, Suzoo watched with anticipation and excitement as he pulled the item and then kept pulling until an entire broom, a brand new broom, was balancing in the palm of both his hands. It’s handle was a thick dark wood that had a shiny polish finish, the end of the broom wasn’t like normal brooms, pointed, no the thick fabric that made the tail was thin itself but there was so much it bushed out at the end.

“It’s for long distance and speed, one of the top rated in all Four Regions.” Mr. Magik said very proud of himself. Suzoo reached slowly for the new broom her mouth open as she handed her dad back his broom that she had been riding since she first stared flying.

“Wow! Suzoo that’s a Sitka Broom! Wait Mr. Magik you know a bag deepening spell, can you teach me it?” Ellie asked still keeping her eyes on her friends new broom in amazement.

After Mr. Magik showed Ellie the spell and Suzoo had a quick test flying only a few feet off the ground, more students and parents arrived in groups and soon Headmaster Valikar was calling all the Graduating Witchlings into a line in the moon light grass clearing. All the students including Suzoo and Ellie said their finally goodbyes to their parents, gave them one last hug then they all walked to the edge of Hall Hill were the largest clearing was and the full moon shined brightly, before mounting their brooms.

“Alright Graduates of Witchling Academy, once you take off your S.A.C.A will join you and be of aid to you on your journey this new school year- and report back to us-” Headmaster Valikar said the last bit directly to two boys who had began shoving each other excitedly on their brooms, they stopped immediately.

“Please treat your aids with kindness and remember they are with you to help you.” The tall wizard with a thick black beard and dark navy blue pointed hat, that looked as though a large book had fallen on it and squished it, and cloak that looked almost glittery under the moon light finished as he spoke to all the students.

Excited smiles and quiet chatter picked up among the line of witchling’s preparing to take off for their new school terms and a completely new journey.

“This is insane!” A nervous skinny boy with hair flat against his head said trembling on his broom, a large bag almost the same size as Ellie’s strapped to his back.

“Sending a bunch of 13 year old’s into the wild! No parents or guardians! Isn’t this a type of child endangerment?” The petrified boy hissed lowly at anyone who would listen.

“Shut up Kray, this is awesome.” A beefy boy with short spiky hair said from down the line.

“You’ll be fine Kray, you’ll have your aid too, remember.” Suzoo couldn’t tell if her words helped or not, the boy looked even more nervous, if that was possible, but didn’t say anything else.

Suzoo leaned forward glancing down the line, some students were adjusting their bag straps or making sure they didn’t forget anything, a few where double checking the fabric in their broom, Suzoo could hear a few girls talking about their hair and why they had worn it that way to fly, some had pulled small radio’s from their bags and where stuffing them in their pockets or hanging them from the ends of their brooms. A few other students looked serious and ready to take off, their eyes fixated on the clear sly ahead, Ellie was one of them but Suzoo could see she was shaking.

“Alright Witchlings, I look forward to seeing you in four years for your final graduation to becoming a full witch or wizard, good luck!” With Headmaster Valikar’s last words the line up of over 20 witchlings on their brooms all began to slowly rise at different speeds.

Suzoo kicked off the ground a few seconds after Ellie and her new broom shot up much quicker then Suzoo had expected, she gripped the broom handle tighter and kept her speed up until she was level with her friend, Suzoo looked to her right and the line up of students all hovered a few hundred feet in the air until a few started shooting forward into the darkness of the night.

Suzoo and Ellie exchanged a quick glance and grin before they leaned forward and their brooms took off into the night.

It only took the large group of witchlings a few minutes of flying until they reach a large open body of water, Suzoo could hear some of the students start clicking on their radios, most of them where on the same station and it filled the silence of the air with a new scenes of adventure.

As they flew Suzoo noticed everyone began flying in small groups, a large group of boys were showing off, doing broom tricks, one had flown up too high too fast and almost fell off. Another was the same group of girls who had been talking about their flying dynamic hair, they were now arguing about which city in the Northern Region had the best restaurants and shopping options.

A small group of three raced over head, Suzoo couldn’t tell who they were, all she saw was feet and flapping cloaks zoom by, they disappeared into the darkness fairly quickly.

It was about an hour until Suzoo or Ellie said anything, neither of them had ever flow for so long, Ellie’s shaking had stopped almost 40 minutes ago and Suzoo was starting to think it would be day break until they reach any sight of land.

“Weird, it never feels like you’re living on an island until you leave.” Ellie spoke first as she leaned over her broom looking down at the large body of water that almost looked like ink in the moon light.

“My legs are cramping! This is insane! What if I have to stop? Where are the aids!?” Kray’s shrill whinny voice could be heard clearly over the radios and students talking.

“What’s that!” A student yelled out right after Kray had stopped whining.

The entire group of witchlings and brooms seem to slow down slightly in the air, their heads darting all around trying to see what was going on.

“There!” Another shouted and students began to turn and look back at where they had just flown from.

A large dark shadow hanging in mid air was approaching them at a rapid speed, students could be heard gasping, some let out little whimpers. The large shadow all of a sudden broke apart into hundreds of tiny shadows.

“Wow!”

“Whoa!”

“There’s so many!”

Students started picking up speed again, racing forward in utter amazement as over 20 different owls and crows flew over head, then one by one the animals began gliding down to individual students.

Suzoo and Elise starting flying at a quicker speed again along with the other students and Suzoo watched as a large white crow, a small barn owl and black crow flew down to the group of girls who had been discussing what was the best place in the Northern Region to go. A large great horned owl swooped down in front of Suzoo to the large boy who was flying a few feet below with his group of friends, two more barn owls and a black crow soon joined them. Something zoomed passed Suzoo’s head and she turned in time to see a very skinny, crow glide over and stop at Kray who was quiet a few yards behind them, even with the distance though Suzoo could tell he looked terrified of the bird.

“Hello!”

“Good evening to you both.”

Suzoo’s head shot around and met face to face with a Great grey owl, It flew there staring at Suzoo before its great out stretched wings went passed her, and the owl was now hovering beside Ellie.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ellie Forest,” The Great grey owl spoke in a very mature motherly voice. “My name is Merry and I will be your S.A.C.A or simply aid for your next four year term, I’m sure well be able to teach you many new spells, potions and perhaps find new and useful items.” Ellie was staring at the Great grey owl named Merry with her mouth open, but even in the dark Suzoo could see a gleam in her friend’s eye she often got when she was told she’d be learning something new.

“Hello! Excuse me! Hello!” A small shrill voice came from beside Suzoo again and she turned from her friend and almost fell off her broom when her face smacked into, what felt like a tiny through pillow of feathers.

“Hello Miss Magik!” The tiny feather pillow moved from Suzoo’s face and was now flying in circles over top Suzoo, she watched him for a few seconds her head getting dizzy watching him go around and around.

“I’m Finn! Miss Suzoo Magik I will be your School Appointed Creature Assistant! Or S.A.C.A or aid over the next four year term! This is my first time being a student aid so-”

“Finn! The student’s don’t need to know that.” Merry interrupted still gliding beside Ellie.

“I’m sure everything will be great! Right!” Finn the owl continued in his high pitched voice as he finally stopped flying circles around Suzoo’s head and landed on the front of her broom where she actually got a look at him. He was a very small white owl, with large black eye, he looked out of breath as well, but almost- if possible- had the same gleam of excitement in his eyes as Ellie had in hers.

“Right.” Suzoo said, even though they were all witchlings, talking animals were still pretty uncommon and it didn’t feel normal watching an animal talk, even though they were flying on brooms and could make spells work through delicately crafted sticks.

The large group of now Witchlings. Owls and crows filled the night air with light conversations and polite introductions.

“How far would you say we are to hitting land soon?” Ellie asked rubbing her eyes. It felt like hours had passed now since the owls and crow S.A.C.A’s had shown up, even Suzoo’s eyes were starting to feel heavy, her butt had already gone completely numb from sitting on the broom for so long, and she had run out of snacks.

“We’ll if you look to your left you’ll see-” With those words the group of Witchlings broke in conversation again and began drifting over towards Suzoo and Ellie, almost creating a wall of Witchlings.

The chatter picked up volume as tiny lights could be seen far in the distance.

“Do you think it’s a big city?”

“I wonder if it has a Library?” Ellie asked turning to Merry flying beside her.

“Maybe it’s got a shopping mall!” Another girl squealed from somewhere in the crowd of brooms Witchlings and birds. By now most of the birds had landed on their assigned students brooms to rest.

“We can’t all stop in the same town can we.” The larger boy was asking the great horned owl that sat on the front of his broom.

“No, at least Witchling’s can’t, not until your final two years.” The owl tried to sound sympathetic, the boy was obviously not happy about this but nodded in response.

“I’m going to pass out and drown in the ocean if we don’t reach land soon!”

Kray shrieked from the back of the group, the skinny black crow perched on his broom stick glared at him menacingly.

“You can’t stop at the first town you see.” Suzoo could hear the bird say in a very strict voice.

Suzoo didn’t hear if Kray said anything back because the night air was being filled with cheers, yelling and, Suzoo was sure she could hear someone crying, maybe that was Kray. The first true sign of land had finally come into view and the group of Witchlings were all more then excited to see ground again, some seem to get some of their energy back and started to pick up speed, zooming passed to get in the front of the group.

Suzoo and Ellie didn’t see anything for a few moments besides tiny distant lights then, a very dark long mass with hundreds of tiny lights was growing from the water and as they flew for a few more minutes, the mass of land grew and soon they were flying over dark hills of grass, farm fields and a few scattered houses.

“You’ll need to fly up higher now.”

“Fly up higher now.”

Owls and crows could be heard telling their assigned Witchling through the chatter that had broken out.

“Go higher!” Finn’s high pitched voice made Suzoo jump slightly on her broom.

“All Witchlings need to fly higher, you don’t want to be spotted in a group like this, you’ll frighten the Northern humans, not all of them have met any witches or wizards in their time you know.” Merry the Great grey owl was saying to Ellie.

Suzoo titled the front of her broom upward and began to rise higher and higher into the night sky with Ellie and the other Witchlings, passing through misty clouds until they were all out of sight, but could see the land and village below made up of only a few houses, barns and fields.

The talking didn’t stop as they watched open farming fields turn into thick forest, a few minutes later hundreds of buildings packed together came into view.

“What town is that?” Suzoo said looking down at the many tiny lights below.

“That’s Naltea, It’s the second largest city in the Northern Region!” Finn said excitedly hoping up and down on Suzoo’s broom then took flight.

Suzoo looked around and all the other owls and crows were taking flight once more as well.

“This is it girls, I’ll see you in the summer!” Suzoo heard the girl with the white crow say loudly to her friends.

“Bye Abby!”

“We’ll miss you Abby!”

“Good luck Abby!”

The group of young girls yelled down to their friend as her broom jumped up higher into the air then dropped into a quick distend.

They flew over smaller towns and cities in the Northern Region, the group began to dwindle down as witchlings and their aids began choosing where they were going to study for the year.

The large boy with the great horned owl gave around of high fives to everyone, including Suzoo and Ellie, before he dived out of sight into the darkness to a city with massive farming fields and barns surrounding it.

“You’re going to Laytrik right?” Suzoo asked Ellie as she flew her broom a bit closer.

“Well yes it has the biggest Museum and Library in all the Regions.” Ellie said with a large grin.

Suzoo hadn’t noticed until now but Ellie had started to shake again.

“It’ll be awesome.” Suzoo said softly trying to reassure her friend.

Ellie simply nodded rapidly in response, her hands still trembling on her broom handle.

Another part of the group flying started to cheer as two more witchlings began their descend, one declining much quicker, the second slowly faded into the distance as the sky began turning a dull orange.

Suzoo looked ahead as they flew over another large part of forest until she saw a giant body of water with a handful of smaller pools surrounding it in a large clearing.

It was only a few minutes later that the dull orange sky was now vibrant orange and bright blue. The misty clouds below covering them began to spread out more now in clumps, thankfully though it seemed like they were now down to the last few witchlings as they passed three more good sized cities and three more witchlings left their group.

“Hey!” A girl with her hair pulled back into a tight sleek pony tail flew up to them after she waved the last of her group member off.

“You’re Suzoo and Elise right?” The girl said smiling, she was riding a broom with a crimson red handle and sleek pointed fabrics almost like her pony tail, a large light brown barn owl was gliding beside her. Suzoo had seen her a few times around school.

“Ellie, and you’re Sara right?” Ellie said glancing at the girl quickly then back ahead.

“Sarena.” The girl said with an amused tone.

“Where are you two stopping?” Sarena asked with enthusiasm.

“Laytrik.” Ellie answered dryly.

“I’m not sure where I’ll be-”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” Finn’s voice reached a new note Suzoo had never heard before and she covered the ear he was closes to.

“Well I mean - I figured Id just go to one I think looked nice-”

“THAT’S HOW YOU PLANNED ON CHOOSING WHERE TO SPEND YOU’RE YEAR?” Finn cut Suzoo off again continuing to yell in his high pitched voice.

“I couldn’t pick where to go either, Vay suggested where I should go, so did most of my friends aids.” Sarena said proudly to the owl flying beside her.

“Speaking of where you should go- your stop.” The barn owl Vay said nodding her head down to a city with tall builds and thick trees that housed other builds and homes in its branches.

“Wow.” Suzoo said under her breath, Ellie glanced over and Suzoo heard a quiet “Wow.” From her as well.

“That’s Forrela, known for its amazing gardens and the fact that they incorporate nature into their everyday lives, there is one of the worlds best Magical Herbalism wizards who lives there.” Finn said in a much more quiet- yet still high pitched voice.

“I can’t wait to meet him- See you guys back at the school at the end of the year!” Sarena waved vigorously before her broom simply began to fall in a dead drop, she was almost a tiny speck but Suzoo watched as she pulled up from her drop and began flying forward again more slowly into the forest covered city.

Suzoo looked around once more and now there was only herself, Ellie, three other boys and Suzoo was sure there was still someone a few hundred yards behind them. Once Sarena had vanished the group of three boys flew over a bit closer but where still a good distance away, two of them had shaved heads and one had hair so long it was pulled back in a bushy ponytail.

“Good luck!” One of the boys yelled to Suzoo and Ellie before waving and moving farther away again, a gigantic circular field with three cities on each end of it sat.

“No doubt they’ll be studying under the Broomswick Masters, Nageela, Torno and Mutan. This is where the Regions National race is held every 2 years at the end of the summer.” Merry Ellie’s aid said after being quiet for so long.

“Laytrik.” Ellie said and Suzoo could hear her voice tremble slightly again.

Suzoo glanced down and in the centre of a few hundred building and houses stood a magnificent white building that seem to tower over the rest of the town and city.

“This is it.” Ellie sucked in and let out an uneasy breath, making a small awkward noise when she did.

“I’ll see you soon and we can always write!” Suzoo and Ellie flew as close as they could and tried to one-arm hug each other awkwardly.

“Write and tell me where you end up.” Ellie said with a bit of force, as she very slowly began to sink lower then Suzoo in the sky.

“Tell me all about the library and the witch you met!”

“Don’t forget to tell me what witch or wizard you end up studying under!”

“You too.” Suzoo tried not to laugh at how slowly Ellie was going but after another few moments she was far enough away they gave each other one last wave and even though Ellie wasn’t completely out of sign in the now daylight, the sudden realization that she was on her own hit Suzoo hard and for the first time she did start to feel nervous and lonely.

“So do you want to hear where I think you should stop to study?” Suzoo feeling of loneliness popped like a bubble when Finn’s squeaky high pitched voice hit her ears.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Peacock Prince

genre: fantasy, fairytale, mlm

words: 2.2k

Summary: A young man who is banished to a vast garden to spend the rest of his days, cursed to grow peacock feathers from his skin and walk the grounds.

A wandering soldier is charged by the neighboring town to fetch three feathers: one for health, two for luck, and three for wealth. Unfortunately, plucking the feathers off a reluctant peacock-boy is not as easy as it sounds.

A love story of avian dimensions in 4 parts

PART 1 ~ PART 2 ~ PART 3 ~ PART 4

One for Health

This place could be beautiful.

That’s his first thought when he steps out onto the white marble stones of the path, it could be beautiful. Beautiful like a quick whiff of winter air or a glistening slick sidewalk after it rains, shiny, brilliant, almost shocking.

He slashes through the nearest vine creeping by his left foot and stomps on it, it would be beautiful. If everything here didn’t want to poison and/or eat him.

The garden Parthenius was said to stretch from the lakes of Tev to the gleaming shores of the Lindom ocean beyond. But that was just a rumor and he doubted something could be so large. Daven tells himself anyway that a garden was just a garden, and an assignment is just an assignment.

The air smells of fragrant honey and hydrangea bushes, Daven covers his nose and keeps his eyes focused forward. A vine stirs beneath his foot but he ignores it as he takes another turn in the endless corridors of the open-air garden.

Vibrant green bushes flank either side of him with pure white crumbling marble walls beneath, streaked with age and inlined with silver. Cupids and angels and chipped and broken statues styled after ‘the masters’ stood at every entrance.

Daven doesn’t follow the overwhelming scents of fresh rain and cut grass, he knows no one is cutting grass here. He could hear birds up ahead, the twinkling sound of songbirds mixing with the honks of swans and brays of ravens farther in.

Daven turns his head slightly when he spots the large unblinking eyes of a crow, it’s feathers were milk white and eyes a splitting red. It’s white feathers ruffle and it watches him with a bloody intensity.

He shivers, it was said King Cephissus bread every albino animal he could get his hands on.

Pure, fresh he called them, untouched by darkness. Daven takes another step around a pool of unnaturally blue water and keeps his head down. His footsteps sound like the barks of hound dogs in a hen house but he doesn’t sense anything following him yet.

Getting past the white panther was one feat, but he was told that was the easy part. Daven quickly surveys each new garden archway he passes, studying the faces of the clean-shaven cupids.

“Seven,” he mutters to himself, “seven and a deer.” That’s what the hunter told him, ten turns in and fifteen paces forward. The calling of the birds increases as he eases toward the shadow of the sun in the west, the hairs on his arms were still standing on end.

“Seven,” he ducks down beneath a long hanging branch, “seven and a deer.”

He cuts down another green vine that twitches as he approaches and jumps over a pool of bright blue acid that was dissolving a small white hare in it. Daven purses his lips and doesn’t look back as he sees the pathway start to open up.

“Seven,” he makes sure the sun is still high in the sky, “seven. And a deer.” The path opens up into a vast archway that rivaled some of the trees in height. His eyebrows raise and he starts to count. “One,” he whispers, “two, three, four…”

Seven cherub faces. And a deer in the very center that’s antlers had fallen off long ago, Daven draws his sword from his waist and crouches lower to the ground. His eyes shift back and forth as he scans the ground and the rustling of the nearby bushes, taking neat slow steps.

He takes a deep breath and creeps quietly over the hard marble path.

Grass sprouts up in patches around the area and bushes grow wild with clean white roses covering them nearby, he sees the marble fountain at the center of the garden square. It must be central location since the fountain is enormous, with a scantily clad chipped woman pouring water down as it’s centerpiece.

Daven wants to whistle at it and the ornate benches surrounding the fountain, but he wasn’t dumb enough to draw attention to himself that easily. He rounds the square, eyeing each new plant and small bird overhead.

The sparrows are stark white dots up above and Daven starts to tense again, his muscles bunching up and nerves coiling, the adrenaline builds in his veins. He sees on giant oak tree at the corner of the square, enormous and untamed.

The branches are heavy with leaves and he can see some of the roots forcing their way up in the cracking marble around it.

He crouches lower to the ground and starts to inch forward, the Hunter said this is where he first found the creature. Daven’s eyes trail up and down the trunk, scanning the leaves and tangled arms of the tree. It takes him a minute, but he pauses mid-stride when he sees it, an eye, a bright green eye with a plume surrounding it.

He breathes through his nose, the eye of a peacock feather.

“Hark,” He raises his sword toward the branches, “creature of the Poison Garden, of the Fair Ones, of King Cephissus’s curse, listen to my words and yield.” Daven felt silly even saying this outloud, but the townspeople were certain this was the only way, even the children’s play included this bit.

“Bend to the will of man with these words, be tamed and bequeath your riches to the outside world. Tetamitus-” “Bequeath?” He hears a clear, rasping voice. “Did they send me a royal clown this time?” Daven hears a gentle thump and sees something drop down to the ground next to the tree, landing tipsily and dusting itself off before standing up straight. Daven takes a long moment to pause, his body going stiff and thoughts bursting. It wasn’t pure white, but it wasn’t what Daven was expecting either. It had a face for one thing.

“Uh,” he blinks a couple times, “dimatia, sviva, kuji-” “Okay, so now you’ve turned to gibberish.” The strange boy waves his hand in the air, “Excellent, please escort yourself out when you’re finished.” Daven’s brow furrows, “exodus, felicitus, kestrener.” The figure was still standing there, he had on a fine blue vest and pair of brown pants that seemed tailored and fitted. He had a white pressed shirt tied all the way up past his throat and a line of brass buttons down his front.

He was noticeably barefoot with sun-kissed skin and fair hair that curled gently on top of his head. It was also noticeably well-maintained.

But that wasn’t the main aspect Daven was focusing on. Mostly it was the arch of feathers bursting from his skin and hanging over his head like a halo.

Green, long, feathers that stuck directly out of his skin and made an arch over him, tiny ones framed his hairline and brought out the poison green of his eyes.

Daven shifts from foot to foot, “oi,” he changes tactics, “are you the peacock fellow?” The boy raises both eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, his eyes glance pointedly up at his own feathers and then back at him. He sniffs, “No.” He responds dryly and Daven makes a face. “Okay,” Daven shakes his head, “Scratch that. Are you the one with the magic feathers at least?” The boy wrinkles his brow and looks ready to turn away, Daven notes the long trail of feathers behind him that dragged against the ground. “No. I’m a regular peacock, squawk, squawk, please exit the garden to your left.”

Daven looks off the side and takes a step toward him, the boy watches him carefully, eyes following him with a quick hardness to them.

“Let’s try this again,” he tries for a smile, “My name is Daven, I’m a soldier.” He sheathed his sword and approaches with his hands up, “I’m not here to fight…”

“Fascinating,” the boy picks at a scab on his hand. “The sword is for making friends I take it.” He could have rolled his eyes, “a precaution,” he says simply, “I have my sword…” He gives him a pointed look, “and you have an awful lot of feathers.”

“Well Daven,” he says slowly, “you are very observant. And less dead then most people that come in this way.” He cocks his head to the side, “Yes?” “You should keep it that way,” he says with a wicked grace coming over his placid features. “What do you want?” He hums loudly, “the question is…” He looks him up and down, “what do you want?”

The boys gaze focuses on him, “What do you have?”

He reaches for his belt, “I have money.” He snorts, loudly, “And pray tell,” The boy places his hands on his hips, “what use do I have for money?” Daven open and closes his mouth, “shoes?” He offers weakly as he looks down.

The tuts and shakes his head, “Well Daven, I’m Ellis. I don’t need your money, and unless you’re a shoemaker I’m not getting any shoes.” He waves his hand in the air as if to shoo him, “so kindly fuck off.”

Daven grips his sword a little tighter, “happily,” he puts a hand out, “for one feather.” The boy rolls his eyes with great dramatics, “absolutely not.” “You can’t be using all of them,” he takes another step forward and the boy, Ellis, takes another step back.

“Look, while I’m impressed you made it this far in,” he examines him with a sniff, “I’m not in the habit of rewarding trespassers. Or giving my things away really.” Maybe that’s why you’re a bird now. He doesn’t say that.

“Do you own this place?” The boy gives a short harsh laugh, “ask me more dumb questions.” “If no one owns it, then I’m not trespassing, in fact,” he puts a finger in the air, “I’m a guest.” The boy cracks a smile, but it’s not a happy one, “absolutely sound logic, I’ll be on my way now. Make yourself at home, the guest room is the second door on the left.” Daven rolls his eyes this time, “haha.” “See? I’ve even entertained you, I always was a great host.” “You’re not even using all of them!” He throws his hands in the air and Ellis just regards him flatly.

“I’m done with this,” he turns around and Daven tenses before lunging for him, Ellis jumps away and jerks his head up. “Oi!”

Daven lunges for his tail, “Just one.” Ellis starts running, looking over his shoulder with a sharp glare, “I will have this place eat you.” Daven pauses for a moment before running after him, “it already tried.”

He dodges back and forth, “I’ll make it try harder,” he bears his teeth, but Daven was already in pursuit.

“Just one! I bet it won’t even hurt,” he jumps over a blue acid puddle and watches the peacock boy jump onto one of the benches to avoid him.

“For you maybe,” he scowls down at him, “all you noble sorts are the same.” He spit the words and Daven makes a face.

“Noble?” He cocks his head to the side, “well that’s the first time I’ve been called that.” Ellis’s eyebrow twitches, “excuse me, not noble, ‘knight-wannabe’.” Daven gaze becomes hard, “I’m getting that feather.” “Not on your life,” the boy hops away again and they begin a somewhat absurd cat-and-mouse game as Ellis runs down a path and Daven sprints after him.

“You can’t run!” He cries as he runs and his lungs start to burn a little bit.

“Then what am I doing?” The boy flashes a smarmy smile over his shoulder and takes a hard left.

“Don’t think you can’t g,” he skids to a stop to follow him, nearly avoiding a snapping vine thrusting out to snag him. He jumps over it and his eyes go wide. “Aha!” He cries out and points toward the vine.

“Yes!” He crows in triumph as he sees the boy’s long tail had gotten snagged in the bush as well. A single long feather had dropped. “Hahahaha!” He says again somewhat manically and feels like dancing.

He sees the boy peek out from around the next corner, “this doesn’t mean an-” “You thought you were so smart,” he takes his sword out and slashes at the vines to get at the feather, “look at that!”

The boy narrows his eyes at him, “don’t cream your pants over it. It’s rude to show stranger’s your bedroom face.”

Daven frowns decidedly at him, “I’m going to enjoy taking this feather from you I hope you know.” “Oh bet you will,” he bounces his eyebrows up and down, “I bet you’ll enjoy yourself a lot with it.” Daven wrinkled his nose, tearing at the vines and making it drop the feather into his outstretched hand, “On that note, I’m definitely leaving now.”

He waves, “don’t come back.” “And it isn’t for me,” Daven defends, “this is for the whole village. So… yeah.” He turns around, his face screwing up as he worked himself up.

“Yes, yes, a very good wannabe knight.” He sings and waves after him, “have fun.” He drags the word out and Daven shakes his head. He growls but doesn’t look back as he makes his way back toward the front of the garden. A white hyena tries to spring on him on the way and two pit traps are tripped on his way back. Daven just sidesteps them and secretly hopes he’ll never have to come back here, sure, it was pretty.

A pretty mess, but not quite beautiful enough to be worth dying over.

PART 2 =====>

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye Part 18/? - Books of Alchemy Part 19/? - The Answers Part 20/? - A Gift Left Behind Part 21/? - Santorini Part 22/? - What the Doves Found Part 23/? - A Thief in the Night Part 24/? - Healing Part 25/? - Newton’s Code Part 26/? - Montenegro Part 27/? - The Lost Relic Part 28/? - The Homunculinus Part 29/? - The End is Near Part 30/? - The Face of Evil Part 31/? - The Morning After Part 32/? - Next Stop Part 33/? - A Sighting in Messina Part 34/? - Taormina Part 35/? - Burning Part 36/? - Recovery Part 37/? - Pilgrimage to Vesuvius Part 38/? - The Scent of Hell Part 39/? - She’ll be Coming Down the Mountain Part 40/? - Stowaways Part 41/? - Bon Voyage Part 42/? - Turnabout Part 43/? - The Apple Part 44/? - Vesuvius Wakes Part 45/? - Fire At Sea Part 46/? - The Real Jim Part 47/? - Return to Naples Part 48/? - La Mela Part 49/? - A Demonstration Part 50/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 51/? - Into the Fire Part 52/? - The Last Homunculus

It’s up to Nat, Jim, and Perenelle to put their plan into action

They came up with a plan.

“How do we get the stone to the ship?” asked Nat.  “You said we need wires to transmit it… and it’s a long way from the dock now.”  Even if they could find a cable that long – kilometres, surely – how would they hook it up and make sure it didn’t leak?

Sir Stephen, with his outsider’s view of the present day, was the one who came up with the solution.  “There is wiring throughout the city, is there not?” he asked.  “There are not many people here to be using the electricity, so perhaps we can use that to bring the stone to the waterside, and then we only need enough cable to connect it to the ship.”

“I could do that,” said Perenelle, “but I need a power source besides the stone. Newton was using some of the stored energy from the volcanoes, but that will be gone now.”

Behind them, in the building, the roof caved in.  The pale purple light of the philosopher’s stone shone out in a beam, lighting up the clouds overhead.  It looked like something off the Vegas strip, and gave Natasha an unpleasant mental picture of birds and communications satellites dropping out of the sky when they ran into it.

“They’ll have a generator on the ship, obviously,” said Sam.  “We could see lights on it from the mountainside, so that’s still running.”

“Somebody would have to go back out to the ship to connect a cable,” said Nat. “At least this time we won’t have to worry about anybody trying to stop us.”

“Those railings around the little piazza,” Perenelle said.  “Those will work as temporary containment.  It’ll leak a bit, but once those have been transmuted, they’ll keep it in place long enough for us to get off the ship again.”

Nat made up her mind.  “Then let’s get on with it,” she said.

“Wait,” Allen protested.  “We don’t even know how we’re getting on board the ship!”

“We’ll have to figure it out on the way,” Nat said, and glanced back at the slowly collapsing Palazzo Del Corallo.  “I don’t think we’ve got time.”

They headed down to a power plant at the water’s edge.  There, Perenelle got to work in the switching room, shutting off connections they didn’t mean, while Sam and Sir Stephen found a drum of heavy-duty electric cable that was labeled 1000 METRI.  That sounded like plenty, but to transmit the stone they would need a circuit, so two smaller drums, five hundred metres each, had to be attached together to form the route back.  Then they unrolled it into a single giant mess of cable so that the other end could be taken out to the Scorpio II.

Clint had left the grappling hook arrow behind, so another solution had to be found for getting onto the ship.  Natasha found somebody’s little fishing boat pulled partly up on land, and waved the others over.

“It’s not much, but I’ll have to do,” said Nat.  “Who’s coming with me?”  The boat could only fit two or three people.

“I am, obviously,” said Perenelle.  She was now wearing somebody’s old denim shorts, which looked very much like something Newton himself would have worn, and a burgundy tank top with Stanford on the front.  Her hair was up in a bun, held in place with an ordinary elastic band… and yet somehow, even when dressed like a slob, she still managed to look like a fashion ad.

“Me, too,” said Jim.

“Why you?” asked Clint, who’d been about to volunteer.

Jim took a deep breath.  “Because they might need another set of hands.  As many people should go as possible and… well, I’m disposable, aren’t I?  I’m not going to live long and I might as well do something meaningful.”

“No time to argue about it,” said Natasha.  “Jim volunteered first.”  If they had to stand around and find logical reasons to pick somebody, they’d never get it done.

So it was Nat, Perenelle, and Jim who set out in the little motorboat, heading for the looming shape of the Scorpio II, with Nat wondering if it were really a good idea to bring Jim along. Could this be the moment they discovered Newton had implanted some kind of programming in him after all, to prevent anybody shutting down the stone after his death?  No that couldn’t be, because Jim hadn’t stopped them from fiddling with the tubes in the volcano…

Jim really had been something Newton intended to use once and then throw away. He really hadn’t been meant to live beyond following them through Athens.

Was it a good idea to bring him, then, knowing that he knew that?  Maybe this was Jim deciding that if Newton could no longer help him and Perenelle couldn’t be trusted to, he might as well just die with a bang instead of a whimper?  Committing suicide would be very out of character for Jim, who so far had repeatedly stressed that he wanted to live, but maybe he’d reached some tipping point. In which case, shouldn’t they have left him behind?  Or was it better, knowing he was going to die, to just let him get on with it?

She would probably have kept turning this over in her mind all the way to the ship, except that they didn’t quite make it.  The Scorpio II had continued to drift, and their cable wasn’t quite long enough to make it.  They were less than a dozen yards away when it ran out.

Nat pulled out her phone.  She didn’t have much battery left but she texted Sharon anyway.

We need more cable, she said.

The reply came back: there isn’t any more.  The light from the stone is getting redder by the way.

Nat looked up, and Jim and Perenelle followed her gaze.  The glow from the philosopher’s stone was easily visible, now forming a halo over the city instead of a single beam – the rest of the Palazzo De Corallo must have fallen down.  It was pinkish in colour.  Nat remembered Perenelle saying that it was impossible to turn off a star… stars turned red before they exploded, didn’t they?

“Tell them to feed it something,” said Perenelle.  “Anything.  Now would be a good time to drive a car in.  Just keep it under control.”

Nat handed her the phone.  “Find a solution,” she ordered Perenelle, and stood up.

“You’re gonna swim?” asked Jim.

“Yep,” she said.  “The pulleys from the lifeboats are still hanging… grab one of the ropes when it gets close enough and let the ship tow you towards shore.  I’ll get as close as possible so we’ll have slack cable.” After getting it on board, they would still have to reach the ship’s generators to wire it up.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to go?” Jim asked.  “I mean, this is gonna be dangerous, and…”

Nat glared at him.

“I’m not trying to be chivalrous!” he said.  “I’m just saying, from a practical point of view, I seal back up if I get hurt so shouldn’t I be the one doing the dangerous stuff?”

“Can you steer a boat?” asked Natasha.

“No, but neither could he!”  Jim pointed back at the shore, meaning Clint.

Nat just kicked her shoes off and dived in.

The water was warm – the Mediterranean always was – and salty.  She spat out her accidental mouthful and swam to where one of the lifeboats had been lowered.  The end of the rope was within reach.  Nat grabbed it, and shimmied back up to the Promenade Deck.  From there it was only a short run to the bridge, at the far end of the ship.

She was nearly there when she realized she wasn’t alone.  There was a man sitting in one of the deck chairs next to the pool, staring up at the sky.  Who was that? The passengers should have all evacuated and as far as they knew, the rest of the crew had bailed out on the way.  A possibility occurred to her, and despite the need to hurry, Nat couldn’t quite stop herself from coming closer to see.

Sure enough, it was a homunculus.  This one was short-haired, and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans.  Perenelle had said there were four on the ship – they’d thrown one overboard and fought off another, and Newton himself had destroyed the third.  This was the fourth, the last one that might be a threat to them, but at the moment he didn’t look like a threat to anybody. He was just lying there, as if he were asleep with his eyes open.  There was nothing to indicate that he’d been there all night, but there was nothing to indicate that he hadn’t.

“Are you okay?” asked Natasha.

He blinked, and then sat up to look at her.

Natasha knew she probably shouldn’t worry about him, but knowing that the homunculi were people, she couldn’t just leave him sitting there.

“You should get off this boat,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it’s going to sink,” Nat replied, though she wondered… did it matter? Like any of them, this one would only live for a couple of weeks.

The homunculus shook his head.  “My job was to keep Perenelle Flamel and the CAAP from leaving this ship, and I already failed at that.  Newton told me if I failed, I should stop and wait for further orders.”

“You’re not going to get any,” she told him.  “Newton is dead.”

The homunculus’ eyes widened, startled.  “He is?”

“Yes,” said Nat.  “He grabbed one of the pipes leading to the philosopher’s stone and turned to gold.  He doesn’t have any more orders for you.  You’re free.”

“Free?”  He stared at her as if he didn’t know what the word meant, and shook his head.  “No, he said if anything happened to him, I had to finish what he started.”  The homunculus stood up.  “What did you do with the philosopher’s stone?”

Natasha’s mind raced.  Newton hadn’t seemed to believe that homunculi could really be self-aware, despite what he’d had his duplicate tell them… but he must have been worried about it, because he’d taken steps to make sure this one wouldn’t wander off when his job was done. What should she tell him?  If she told him the stone still existed, he might take steps to protect him.  If she told him it was gone, there was no telling what he might do.

There was no time to lie, either.  Now that the homunculus was paying attention to his surroundings again, he could see the red glow hanging over Naples.  He moved towards the railing, and Natasha grabbed his arm, twisting his wrist so he couldn’t keep going without pain.

“You don’t have to do what Newton told you,” she said.  “Perenelle might be able to help you.”

“I don’t need help,” said the homunculus, and with his other arm, he swung at her face.

Nat ducked under the blow and flipped him over her back, dislocating his shoulder in the process.  He fell into a stack of deck chairs, landing hard, but not hard enough to do him any damage that would stick.  As he got up, he stretched his arm and the bone popped back into place, grabbed a folded chair, and ran at him again.

She vaulted up onto the poolside bar and kicked the blow aside.  “We don’t have time for this!” she protested.  Why hadn’t she just left him there?

“He told me to finish what he started!” the homunculus said.  “He said it was the only thing that mattered!”  He threw the chair aside and climbed up to get her.

She yanked a keg handle, spraying him in the face with beer.  “Did he tell you why?”  Jim was reasonable.  Hopefully this one was, too.

The homunculus staggered back, sputtering, then grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter and broke it to make a weapon.  “Yes,” he said.  “And if he’s dead, then it’s up to me.”