#SO technically the whole gang is here but I tagged the ones I wrote the most about is that fair?

[devondespresso]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @stobinesque 💕💃🪩🕺💕

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPS

~the usual~

Steve Henderson AU

Claudia Henderson Canon Character Masterlist

s3 Dustin funko (physical wip)

Chrissy Cunningham funko (physical wip)

tagging @blushweddinggowns @flowercrowngods @csinnamon-fox @withacapitalp and @wynnyfryd (and anyone else that wants to!! also absolutely no pressure of course! also also just let me know if you don't like being tagged in these💖)

SNIPPET

is it really a WIP Wednesday if i don't share Steve Henderson Au? I don't think so. anyway

(i have no idea how to do the 'more under the cut' thing hopefully i did this right.)

in todays episode the gang is taking a pitstop to drop of Dustin before going to ✨the hospital✨

They pulled up to Dustin's house in no time. It was small but very warm, especially with all the big windows and golden lights. Just as Hopper parked beside a bright yellow Volvo the front door swung open and a very frantic woman made her way to their car. Dustin launched out of the car, forgetting his bag on the floorboards, and ran over to her. Just the sight of him made her visibly relax with a frantic smile, pace slowing and shoulders slumping back to a natural state. It was like every emotion was exaggerated. On display like there was nothing to hide, like the whole world needed to know how worried or relieved she was. 

Or upset, because after a long hug she immediately began scolding him. Steve could barely hear what they were saying, a few words flicking in here and there.

“Worried …  so late ..  Mews..”

Mews. Dustin's cat. Dead cat. Did he tell her? Does she know about the upside down, too?

He opened his door and shouted for Dustin to come over, quickly grabbing his bag as an excuse for wanting to talk to him.

“Left your bag, dude.”

“Thanks,” he grabbed it quickly, clearly in a rush to get back, Steve reached out to keep him just a second longer.

“Did you tell her about Mews?” 

“Of course not! She doesn’t know about this stuff, I can’t just tell her about D’art!” he whispered

“Dusty, is everything okay?” she said, starting towards Steve’s door. Dustin gave him a look that screamed shit shit shit shit shit

“I got it,” he mouthed before she reached them.

“Yeah, everythings fine Mrs Henderson. I was telling Dustin that he should probably explain what happened today.” he lied easily. Her eyebrows raised, looking between them. Dustin still looked really nervous but trying to hide it under a weak smile and agreeing nod.

“Yeah, I asked Steve to help me look for Mews and-’

That got her attention.

“Did you find her?” she asked, voice wavering. Shit.

“No-” 

“Yeah”

Dustin froze.

“Well, we did, technically, just…” he hesitated for effect, then continued softly, “She didn’t make it.” 

She gasped, covered her mouth with her hands, and let out a strangled “oh”. Dustin looked almost as distraught, moreso at seeing his mother so upset. Fuck, this shouldn’t be so hard.

He continued, to complete the lie and to keep Dustin from having to say anything more.

“There was a rabid dog loose, we took care of it before it could hurt anything else, but... we were too late to help Mews. I’m- I’m so sorry.” He said. The story was fake, but the stutter and remorse wasn’t. Not necessarily feeling for Mews, he liked cats but he never actually saw Mews, but more for Mrs. Henderson. He had no idea how important this cat was to her and it was starting to make sense why Dustin kept lying to her about it.

She sighed wetly and Dustin gave her another hug.

“Can we bury her?” she asked

“Already did,” Dustin said into her shirt. He pulled back and looked more sure. Like a calmness swept over him, but too quickly. It had to be an armor, “We buried her in the backyard while you were at work, I can show you in a minute.”

Then he dropped his bag and pulled Steve in for a hug like he did with his mother. It was a surprise, but after a moment to think again he returned it, letting Dustin bury his head in his shirt and holding his onto him gently.

“I’m sorry, dude.” Steve whispered.

“It’s okay.” He said, pulling back and giving a little smile, “I’m going to come visit you, okay? At the hospital tomorrow."

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, ruffling Dustin’s hat. He scooted back into the car, hearing Mrs. Henderson faintly question 'hospital' before the door shut. Hopper backed out of the driveway and Steve looked out the window, smiling as Mrs. Henderson waved at them before she and Dustin went inside.

[snarkwrites]

01 | gangsta | sweetpea

Notes:

I’d say I’m sorry for starting a 3rd multi chapter series but I’m honestly not. I haven’t written a whole lot for Riverdale, but this idea just kinda came to me and I rolled with it? Anyway, yeah.. If people really like this, I might be tempted to keep this going beyond just the few parts I already kind of have halfway planned.

Huge hug to @twistnet​ because their writing about Sweetpea kind of awakened and fuelled this and if you’re not reading their fics, you really should tbh. 

Summary:

They clearly don’t mix. But sometimes, opposites attract. The only question is will these two’s sparks cause an inferno or go down in flames?

Ugh.. I hate my summaries, thanks.

Pairing:

Andrews!OFC, Alyssa x Sweetpea. Yep. She’s Archie’s sister. I couldn’t resist.

Warnings:

Uhh... teen angst, relationship drama, sexual tension, possible fights / violence here and there and.. That’s pretty much it. Oh yeah and eventually, filth.

Also, this is probably not going to follow seasons 2 through present to the letter. Actually, I’ll venture to warn now, it definitely will not. Because there’s some things in it that I’ve seen so far that make zero actual sense. And there’s probably not going to be a whole lot of Archie,Betty,Jugs and Veronica in here too, because this is me, kind of writing all the side characters into things a little more?

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ 

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc - soundtrack ] 

                                                  ONE.

“Sweet Pea, you’ll be working with Alyssa Andrews.”

I didn’t dare turn to look back at the guy. He was probably one of the most intimidating guys in Riverdale High. He hardly spoke to anyone unless it was one of the two friends he happened to have. Neither of them were in this class period.

The teacher, seeming impressed with himself, gave a nod to Sweet Pea and Sweet Pea grumbled, stalking up the aisle and flopping lazily into the empty seat next to mine. Our sides brushed a little when he moved his desk closer after getting a look from our teacher. I tried not to tense up.

Sweet Pea seemed to notice. He smirked at me.

Leaned in a little.

“Relax, cherry. I don’t bite unless I’m asked.” he muttered against my ear. My breath caught in my throat and I was promptly thrown into the mother of all internal uproars. I shoved the book between us wordlessly, not even daring to glance over at him.

I was not about to let him take pride in the fact that he made me blush or rattled me, not even a little.

Our sides brushed again and I pursed my lips, taking a deep breath. Across the classroom, Reggie was already working with one of the other girls on my squad. I watched them laughing and flirting back and forth and I shook my head, rolling my eyes.

“I’m supposed to be his girl and  yet.. It’s as if I don’t even exist.” I muttered, mostly to myself. Annoyed at myself for being hurt over it because it shouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Reggie was a flirt. I’d known that going into things. I’d tried not to let it get to me. Tried to remind myself that nine times out of ten, he wasn’t doing it intentionally.

But tell that to Mandy. Mandy automatically thinks that any guy who flirts with her is in love with her, my brain weighed in on the matter and I sighed, drumming my nails against the desktop, glancing over my shoulder at the two and rolling my eyes all over again. I just knew I was going to have to hear about this all afternoon at practice.

“So you’re a River Vixen, huh, cherry?” he muttered after a few seconds, nodding to the cheerleading uniform I was wearing. I could feel him staring at me and sure enough, when I bothered to tear my eyes off of Reggie across the room and in full flirt mode with Mandy, he was looking me up and down. He repeated his question.

Just something about the tone he took when asking it both times that he’d done so had me jumpy. Defensive. He said it with this air of disdain. Making it obvious for the thousandth time since our school merged that he hated Riverdale High.

“Mhm.” I kept my best calm and neutral tone, despite the fact that I knew he was probably being judgemental. Or that he was being a tease. Maybe even both. “I have a name, by the way.”

“I know. But you also have bright red hair.” Sweet Pea shrugged, barely containing the smirk the second he realized that maybe he was getting to me.

“Yes. I realize this. But my name is Alyssa.” I muttered, my voice dropping lower. Trying my best not to let the giant of a Serpent intimidate me because that wasn’t who I was. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Relax… Cherry.” Sweet Pea smirked at me.

“You just had to do that.” I grumbled quietly, shaking my head. I tried to focus more on the reading part of our assignment for today, but I couldn’t. Between Sweet Pea and the fact that I couldn’t tell whether he was teasing me, being an ass overall or a little of both and knowing that my own boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to butt in on my behalf and offer to switch with the guy because ‘his stupid pride’ and his thing against any and all Southsiders, my mind was already too full.

I finished my worksheet and glanced over at Sweet Pea, watching his eyes move over the page. Watching the way his tongue rolled over his lips as he wrote out his answers on the worksheet in front of him.

I jumped when without even looking at me, he muttered calmly, “See somethin you want, cherry?”

“No, I was actually just making sure you were actually doing the work.” I retorted, biting my lip when the words came a little harsher than I meant. He stopped writing and laid down his pencil, glancing up at me.

“Aw. Is somebody mad because her so-called boyfriend ditched her with a Serpent to go work with one of her little Valley girl clone besties?”

“Eat shit.” I snapped, tensing. Holding his gaze defiantly.

“You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth, cherry?”

My cheeks burned hot. Kissing was about all I did to Reggie Mantle with my mouth. And I never seemed to hear the end of it with most of the other girls on my squad, either. It was as if my sex life, or lack thereof, was the main topic of discussion pretty much any given moment.

,, And probably why he’s working with Mandy instead of you right now. You know he’s getting tired of getting stopped at second base.” my mind taunted me. I took a few deep breaths to really keep from losing my temper and I shrugged, not bothering to answer Sweet Pea. 

I don’t think I’ve ever made a faster retreat than the one I made the second the bell to end class rang. I grabbed my stuff up in a hurry, flustered and a little annoyed. Definitely angry.

Reggie caught up to me in the hallway, holding out his letterman’s jacket.

The one I’d been in such a rush to leave class that I’d left behind. I was beyond tempted to shove the jacket back at him and tell him maybe he needed to give it to Mandy. Or Veronica. Or any of the other girls he’s constantly talking to. But I bit my tongue and took it.

I didn’t feel like speaking up, telling him it bothered me when he went into charmer mode only to have him promise not to anymore and then turn to do it all over again not even an hour later. The whole thing was infuriating, more than a little redundant by now.

“You okay, princess?”

Reggie eyed me as he asked the question and again, I heavily debated telling him exactly what was wrong with me, but again I chose not to.

It wasn’t worth the argument.

It hurt, but it wasn’t worth the hassle.

I plastered on what I hoped was my best convincing smile and leaned against his side, letting his arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

I tensed when Reggie spoke up, mentioning the fact that I’d gotten paired to work with Sweet Pea for the semester. “Ya know, you could’ve said somethin, princess.”

“You know how Mr. Keaton is, Reg. It wouldn’t have mattered.” I muttered, my jaw clenching just a little because it irritated me. Did he not see that it went both ways and stop to think that maybe, just maybe… If he didn’t feel like it was important to do on my behalf, maybe I didn’t see the sense in making waves for him?

He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he leaned against the locker next to mine when we stopped at mine so I could switch out my books. I stopped digging through my books and notebooks to gaze up at him. “It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged it off.

Honestly? It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t see any difference between the jerk of a Serpent I’d been paired to work with and Reggie at this particular point in time. ,,I just had an easier time telling one of the two where they could shove it.” my brain saw fit to point this out and I quickly shoved out the intrusive thought.

Reggie wasn’t a bad guy. He just had a few glaring flaws.

At least he wasn’t out late at bars or getting arrested. Or whatever it was that Sweetpea called himself doing as a member of an actual gang.

All I had to go on, of course, were my brother Archie’s interactions with the gang thus far. Outside of Jughead Jones, of course. But to put it technically, Jughead couldn’t really be considered an actual Serpent. Merely one by association.

Reggie seemed content with my answer, pulling me closer as we walked past the section of the hallway where Sweetpea and his friends' lockers were. Glaring at Sweetpea as if he had some kind of point to prove. 

What Sweetpea did was petty. And if I were in a better mood and the guy hadn’t spent all morning making his mission to drive me up the wall, I’d have laughed. 

“Hey Cherry?”

I stopped and turned back, my hand on my hip. “Again. My name is Alyssa.” I reminded him firmly. We locked eyes and I bit my lip, squirming a little under the intense once over he gave me before meeting my gaze again a few seconds later. I dropped my gaze quickly.

Wait, was I blushing right now?

Why was I blushing right now?

“Leather would look better on you.” Sweetpea rubbed his chin thoughtfully, locking eyes with me again for a few seconds when I dared to look up, thinking the whole staredown was over. What surprised me was that as he was letting his eyes roam over me, sizing me up, I actually felt my stomach flipping and flopping lazily. My breath even caught in my throat a little and despite everything, I felt my cheeks burning just slightly at his words and that look in his eyes when they met mine all over again.

I eyed him with a raised brow. When Reggie practically growled from beside me and I had to throw my arm out to stop him from storming over and Sweetpea smirked, I gave him a dirty look.

“ You think you’re slick, Serpent? Talkin to my girl like that?” Reggie was seconds away from storming over. Starting a fight. A fight that I knew would get him benched during the game tonight. I cleared my throat, tensing in front of him. “Reggie, don’t.”

“Why the hell not, huh? Did you hear what he said to you?” Reggie looked down at me. It was clear he was wound up, the fuse was lit. All I could do was roll my eyes. Keep quiet. Because if I opened my mouth right now, I was going to wind up arguing with Reggie. And it was over something stupid. Pointless. I knew what Sweetpea was up to right now. If Reggie didn’t, that wasn’t exactly my problem.

Yes, I was still very bitter about his lack of a solution in class earlier. That was it. That was the entire reason I wasn’t about to step up and defend my relationship with Reggie after Sweetpea’s remark called it to question.

,, now he says something. It only took Sweetpea being an ass. Questioning Reggie’s role as my boyfriend. Oh no, he couldn’t stop me from being paired with Sweetpea earlier, when he knew it made me uncomfortable. He wanted to make it into my fault that I said nothing, too.”  the thought came, making me even more irritable, especially when I couldn’t shove it out.

Sweetpea smirked when our eyes met again and I bit my lip, quickly dropping my gaze. God forbid I stir things up even further…

,, why does it feel like I’m gonna come undone when he looks at me like that? He’s clearly doing it just to get under Reggie’s skin, there’s no way in hell he actually wants me.” I found myself thinking, only to get annoyed by the fact that yes, it did bother me to know that.

XXX

“The guy spent the whole period hitting on another girl. Right in front of her. I mean, it’s her fault if she’s too stupid to take that as a huge hint.” Sweetpea finished his tangent and promptly raised his brows, swallowing the food he’d shoveled in as he’d been ranting to Toni and Fangs.

Toni and Fangs shared a look.

“I knew he liked her. I called it.” Toni teased triumphantly, high fiving Fangs.

“What the fuck? No!” Sweetpea practically growled the words. Glaring at both Toni and Fangs when they gave him a look as if to say ‘Riiiight. Sure ya don’t.’ but said nothing. “I’m just pointing out she’s obviously too stupid to see what’s obvious.”

“And that little dig in the hallway was what?” Toni questioned, laughing when all Pea could do was open and close his mouth and then finally take a very aggressive bite of his burger. “It was me, stirring her up. Look, she’s hot. That’s it.” Sweetpea insisted firmly.

“If that were it, you wouldn’t always be glancing over at her. Getting that angry look whenever you see her around with that prick Mantle.” Fangs pointed out, earning him a glare from Sweetpea. Fangs continued, despite it. “And the whole reason you moved the fight from Andrews house to that vacant lot after you saw her in the upstairs window.. Why did you do that, again?” smirking when Sweetpea clenched his fists and grumbled at him, answering quietly, “I didn’t think it’d be right for her to have to watch her brother getting his ass handed to him. That’s it.”

A throat clearing had the three looking up.

Alyssa stood there, a hand on her hip. Glaring down at Sweetpea who flashed her a smirk.

“See something you want, cherry?” Sweetpea teased, taking a handful of fries from his plate, biting into them. Holding her gaze steady. A little annoyed with himself at the way his heart fluttered and sped up just the slightest as he did this.

“It’s.. You know what? Nevermind. Call me whatever, I don’t care. But no. I don’t. I did come over here to tell you whatever it is you're up to, I don’t appreciate being dragged into the middle of it. I know you’re only doing this in the first place to wind Reggie up. I’m not stupid.” Alyssa said the words with a jaw clenched tight. Glaring at Sweetpea.

Until he licked his lips and Toni happened to see the way her eyes followed the movement helplessly and began to really sit there and quietly assess the situation. Smiling to herself as her own suspicions formed exactly as to why Sweetpea’s actions as of late bothered Alyssa Andrews so much.

She kept it to herself.

Sweetpea chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t know why it bothers you. The guy’s an asshole. Do better, Cherry.” he waved his hand dismissively at her as if he were shooing her from the spot she stood in at the end of the table. Alyssa glared and folded her arms, tapping her foot as her mouth opened and closed for a minute or two.

Then she turned sharp and stormed off. Finding her own table with Reggie and the rest of the football players and cheerleaders.

Sweetpea found himself staring at her, shaking his head. Clenching his fists. “I don’t get it. How does she not see her whole thing with that asshole is one sided, huh?”

“The more important question to ask, Pea, is why in the hell it bothers you so much? They’re Northsiders man, leave ‘em to whatever it is.” Fangs shrugged everything off, taking a sip of the soda in front of him as he leaned back in the chair lazily.

Sweetpea ignored his friend and found himself watching the table Alyssa sat at again. Watching her. The way she threw her head back to laugh. The bright little smile that gave him the distinct feeling that yes, she could certainly be a handful if she really wanted to and she were really being her truest self. He  glared at Reggie when the two locked eyes after a few minutes.

And while the advice his best friend Fangs gave him was a good idea in theory, it was not an idea good enough to stop Sweetpea. Even though Sweetpea knew good and well that it probably should’ve been.

He needed to just let go.

He’d die before admitting it, but knowing he’d never have a chance with her only made him want her so much more. Enough that maybe the thought took root.. Maybe he could keep stirring things up. At the very least, Reggie wouldn’t have her all to himself anymore after it all played out. ,, and anybody is better than that fucking prick Mantle.” Sweetpea shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it came, because he knew deep down it was a lie.

He wanted her. All to himself.

[warriorstale001]

15, 18, 22, and 25? ✨👀

(Sorry I’m taking so long with some of these).

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

I’d have to say summaries, since I’m still unhappy with some of mine even though they’ve been up for months. I tend not to take the ones at the beginning of each chapter too seriously, but it’s the ones that describe the entire story as a whole that I struggle with...

18: Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterizations?) Tell us about them.

Basically I’ve created several AUs for the Xtra Small series which I’ve dubbed the Xtra Dark series. You can probably guess from that title that it’s not the most happiest of series :/. In the first chapter of the Xtra Small one-shots that some people may have read, I wrote out a version of events where Cross ends up in Swapfell and ends up being captured and questioned by the Sans there, though Nightmare is quick to rescue him and everything is fine after... Well I also wrote a version where this isn’t the case and instead of being stuck with the Sans for a few hours, Cross spends an entire month in Swapfell having to deal with him :/. Needless to say Cross is rather scarred from the experience both mentally and physically as he ends up losing vision in an eye socket (his left one) from an injury he gets while he’s there. To make things worse Dust never figures out the antidote in this timeline and Cross remains a child until he simply grows up naturally, though he never recovers fully from his experience. I’ve also got other versions of XS where Cross lives with the Star Sanses for his first month as a child, so when the gang show up to take him back, he’s scared because the only things he knows about the gang is stuff he’s heard them say and doesn’t think he can trust them. Any other versions of XS I can think of I may actually publish one day so I won’t spoil them ;). I’ve only got one other for Bittybones In Need of Hope and again it involves Nightmare’s gang. I basically made a fan fiction of my own fan fiction where the two bitties are rescued (accidentally) by Nightmare and they go on to live with the gang heh :’D. I could honestly go on about even more AUs but I’d be here all day so I’ll leave it at that.

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

Well technically I have yet to finish any of my works haha XD. If we’re talking about older chapters of some of my works I’d describe them as quite cringy and hard to read, cos wow are they difficult for me to look at sometimes. That’s why I’m trying to edit some of them. I swear I’m my own biggest critic haha :’).

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

This has already been answered in a previous ask :3.

Thanks for your asks! Feel free to ask me about my more darker works if you’re interested (to anyone still reading this) haha ;p.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Six: Sensory Integration 2

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: It’s a fine night for a walk by the water with a handsome vet holding your hand. I think that says it all.

Behind on your sessions? Want more from the author? Click Me

Word Count: Almost 1.9k (a bit shorter, hopefully y’all don’t mind by the end!)

Warnings: Basically still fluff, but also some saucy morsels near the end…not full on smut, though, so don’t get too excited. We aren’t there yet, my little lovelies. Soon, though…soon.

Author’s Note: As I said before, this date totally got away from me, nearing a whopping 6k in total. Thanks again for all the love. And in other news, I told a couple of my PT friends about this story, and one of them agreed to be my official technical consultant on the project for future chapters and even if I wanna flesh it out, modify it to include strictly “original” characters, and eventually take it to a publisher! I sent what I’ve done so far to her just before I started drafting this post, so hopefully she’ll have good insight for me! She said it was about time someone wrote a story like that! Lol! (She reads  a lot, so I guess people really don’t think of PTs as the heroines of love stories. Sad, really! Most of the ones I know are lovely and loving people!) The other was just instantly excited and can’t wait to read it.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although...their lackadaisical notification system might...sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

The lake was fairly near her clinic, not two blocks away. He wasn't wrong about her feeling up to a walk when the time came. She was looking forward to the fresh night air near the lake. It was a deep-seated part of who she was to love the water.

He'd pulled into the small, empty gravel lot at the head of the paved walking trail. It was well dark since it had just turned 10:00, and the moonlight danced off the water, calm, but with a faint shimmer from the light breeze. The stars danced, winking at them as if they knew the romance that surged between the couple was burgeoning right here below them.

"Now, last time I walked this trail, I'll warn you…I got approached by a gang. And they were…pretty vicious. I had to resort to some guerilla tactics that I'm not too proud of to fend 'em off."

"Oh no!" she wasn't aware of any gang crime in their fairly peaceful city! "What kind of gang?"

"A goose gang." He looked at her gravely. Before they both burst out laughing in hysterics.

"I thought you were serious!" she wiped tears carefully from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I was! They are stupid territorial! I had several of them tryin'a bite at my legs at once. It was quite the ordeal, I assure you!" he said, serious, but still laughing.

"Well, you'll save me if the Ya-Gooz-ah descend on us tonight, wont you?" she teased, clutching at his arm in mock fright at the thought of a band of Yakuza Geese being an actual thing, but thinking it was a great way to keep him touching her.

"As long as you stay real close to me, sunshine. I'll protect you from the devil himself." He kissed her on the top of the head, sealing the promise and warming her from the point of contact all the way to her toes.

As they traipsed along the pavement path, they talked about everything and nothing, the gentle night wind a whisper against their skin, which had been made slightly dewy from the walk and the humidity. They had made two laps around the small body of water when they came back around to one of several benches placed at intervals on the trail running its perimeter. Without breaking their conversation, she pointed to the nearest one, indicating her desire to sit, which he understood and lead them there.

“See, the problem I have with sports at that level, especially football is the harm I’ve witnessed it do to a kid’s body. We’ve treated athletes in high school and as early as 7th and 8th grade that the coaches are completely obsessed with getting them out on the field or court again. These kids are taking more impact than their bodies are ready for. They can’t miss a game, or even practice for therapy even if they’re just riding pine. And the parents are so laser focused on that potential college scholarship for that sport that they can’t see that if their child doesn’t get better, no scout is gonna want to dole out a free ride. Not to a broken-down athlete. Did you feel that kind of pressure when you were playing football? Because I don’t remember it at my school.” She went off a on bit of a tangent because she’d just been told by Heather before she left that her torn meniscus, Jason couldn’t get in for several weeks because of his practice and game schedule limiting his availability.  

“I mean, I felt pressure, I guess, but not outside of practice or the games. I’d hurt my knee my junior year early, same one we been workin’ on, and they just had me sit out a few weeks and work with a PT, but I don’t remember it being a problem to miss out on anything related to football if it was because of my health.” He sat down next to her on the fiberglass bench, which was molded to have the look of fine blonde wood, and put his arm around her shoulder. No pretense of the reach, no awkwardly sitting for a while beforehand, just continuing to touch her as he had been their whole walk.

She leaned into his shoulder, comfortably, as if they’d done this a thousand times and this wasn’t their first date. And continued their discussion.

“What has gotten into people these days? It’s like they’re not satisfied with anything. Nothing is ever enough for a single person on this good earth!” She sighed, frustrated by the neediness of people that seemed to come with her own job and projecting that on to the world…not that there wasn’t at least a measure of truth in it.

“Personally speaking, I think you’re wrong.”

“You don’t think that the world is full of dissatisfied Karens?” She laughed.

“Oh I do. But it’s not every person. You’re sitting next to one very content man right here.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He confirmed.

“Was it the steak, or the lobster mac?” She’d be fantasizing about them both until the next time they went there. Yeah, she was already thinking about “next time” and “they.” She was in trouble.

“Not to knock either, but I’m a hun’ert percent sure it was the company.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

She smiled, nuzzling into him, feeling the downy softness of his shirt again and smelling his intoxicating cologne. She suddenly remembered a promise from their session.

“Oh, hey. I was gonna have a response for you…to your 'question' from earlier.” She said, mischief burning in her eyes. She kneeled up on the bench and turned his face to hers, brushing a hand against his impossibly soft beard before descending slowly in for a kiss.

It started sweet, a few languid, full pecks, then she parted her lips barely enough for her tongue to venture out to explore his full mouth. They were met after several attempts with a reciprocal openness from him. She dared, then to search him with her tongue. It was simply browsing now. Feeling no rush to complete its quest. Only a sense of the need for due diligence. She was surprised at the flavor she'd encountered. She hadn't seen him pop a mint, and she hadn't left his side all evening. He was sly. It was a sweet and strong taste. Wintergreen on steroids, with the mildest hint of vanilla. She wanted more. Of the flavor. Of him.

She let her tongue find his, knowing what would happen, somehow, even though they had never kissed like this before. Never when it wasn't rushed and needing to be…PG. Here in the dark of night, with no one but the celestial bodies as witnesses, they didn't have to worry about her job, or the public. The judgement of the outsider's gaze.

She knew, by instinct alone, that this would spark him into more than latent participation. And that's exactly why she did it. As previously stated, she was definitely an intentional beast when the occasion called and mood struck.

He did as she'd expected, his own tongue waking, beginning a playful dance with hers, exploring her mouth with more urgency and desire, pulling a ragged gasp from her lungs. She broke away to give some attention to his neck. She held him by the base of his head, thumb playfully brushing into his thick facial hair. A breathy moan that sounded very much like her name escaped his lips. This was the reaction she had been dying to get from him for so long. A surrendering bliss that only came from this kind of personal, intimate, and one-one connection. She'd gotten hints of it when she'd helped him stretch, when she heard those stifled groans he felt at the good hurt she brought him with her expert touch.

She bit his earlobe, and sealed her fate. He growled and pulled her up to his lap in an immodest straddle. Not that she cared in the empty dark. He seemed to need her lips back on his, desperate to find a purchase that would never present itself. The paradox of a kiss.

His hands roved over the back of her from neck to behind, very much favoring the latter. It was an odd sensation. Most of her experience with ass-grabbing had been less than pleasant. Either dirty old men had touched her without consent, or boyfriends had done essentially the same thing as a show of their dominance over her, also without her strictest consent. The way Sy held her was tender, exploratory, and…she couldn't help but think the word loving. "Love" wasn't a word they were ready to even bring up. But she thought he was showing it in his feather touch and hungry kiss.

The breeze was cool, and felt extra cold where she seemed to be warmest. Her position had her…very exposed to the elements, covered only by the fine layers of her underwear at some angles. She was suddenly very aware that they were on a precipice here. If they carried on much longer like this, she wasn't going to want to stop. She already didn't. And she was just out of practice enough to be unsure of where her point of no return was. Dammit. She broke away, in agony from it.

"Sy, I…I think …you should take me back." she stuttered.

"Okay." he pulled her back in for another kiss, pretending to misinterpret,which she indulged a moment but quickly escaped.

"No, sweetie." she chuckled. "You know what I mean."

"Or…I could bring you home with me." It was only a suggestion, but there was a plea in his eyes that pulled at her guts. He wanted her. And she wanted him. With every single cell in her body, she wanted every singe cell of his. But she truly felt that taking things slowly was the best option given the complexities of their situation.

"You don't know how badly I want to accept that invite, Sy." she rested her forehead on his. They were both breathless.

"It's just two little letters, sunshine. O. K. Easy as granny's peach pie."

"I'm terrible at pie crust." they laughed.

"Let's go." he said, helping her off his lap, and preparing to stand, but sitting back down immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Is it the knee? Did I hurt it?" she was already mad at herself, and at him a bit, if this indiscretion had caused him a setback…how ironic it would be!

"Nope, knee's great. Dandy."

"Did you get lightheaded?"

"No, but uhh…it's definitely SOME sort of blood flow issue. Gonna need a minute." he explained without explaining with a sheepish expression on his face…it hit her like a speeding bus.

"Ope." she looked to his lap without thinking, and immediately averted to the water again, as she sat beside him, hands clasped over the seat of the bench. His hand found hers, and covered it, asking to hold it, and getting its way.

"I had…the best time tonight, Shane." he told her, staring at the opposite bank where the maple, oak, and sycamore trees swayed to the tune of the gentle night's breeze.

"So did I, Sy."

"You free tomorrow?" he asked, hopefully.

"You tell me!" she replied…hopefully.

Up Next: Chapter Seven: Non-Productive Time

[midnight-marimba]

Mar’s DQXI Fic OCs

It’s Dragon Quest OC And NPC Week, and I’m going to approach it from the other direction than what’s described in the event proposal, because I rarely end up inventing a detailed character without context, but I often find a specific need for a character in a piece of fanfiction and build them up out of that prompt into something better than a footnote. So I’m going to take the opportunity to talk about some of my fics and the original characters and NPCs who wandered into them and made themselves interesting enough that I’m eager to share a little extra detail or commentary about them.  (Under the cut)

Hair Tie That Binds

A comedic story about Hendrik recruiting Erik for a heist to help fix his own mistake. (9k words)

I needed a minor villain, so I invented Lady Druzy (named off of an obscure corner of a gem list, so as to suit a minor Heliodoran noble).  She is petty, spiteful, vengeful, and apparently my favorite archetype of OC to write.  She is awful and I loved writing her.

After Rain, The Sun Will Shine

A Sylv/Hendrik one-shot involving Hendrik’s memories of Sylv’s mother. (8k words)

When I wrote this, I had not yet heard the detail from the voice drama (please somebody translate the whole thing?? <3) that Sylv's mom's given name was Gerbera and her stage name was Sylvia (that is, exactly the same stage name Sylv took in the Japanese version of the game).  I had only heard a broader rumor about the drama and Sylv choosing a stage name in honor of their mother.

So when I went to write a story about her, I looked at a list of Dutch names (to match Arnout and Hendrik — Zwaardsrust is Dutch) and hunted for one a name with a "Syl" sound.  I landed on Silke, which is also satisfying from a word association perspective (since it looks like "silk" which sounds highly appropriate for a "famous Zwaardsrustian beauty" — one of the few canon details we get for her).

I tried to make her stubborn and determined, inspiring and willfully optimistic for the sake of the people she had under her leadership.  Sylv-like, but with a slightly more intense philosophical flavor than canon Sylv, as she’s walking out of an arguably even greater tragedy (or at least more personal at a larger scale?)

Silk and Swagger

Faris/Reader, from the point of view of a Heliodor guard. (1.7k words)

The guard is nameless and the fic is relatively short, but my goodness it was fun inventing someone who is instantly smitten with Faris and believes the best of him at all times.

When Home Isn't Marked on the Map

A Sylv/Erik longfic set a couple years after the end of the game, in which Erik is coming out of a period of self-imposed isolation after a disastrous attempt at confessing his one-sided romantic feelings for the Luminary, and he begins by going looking for Sylv, the one old companion he dares hope won’t yell at him for his absence.  (74k words)

Since the ultimate seed of the idea behind this fic was "Erik would be protective towards orphans and Sylv would like that about him" I needed some kids to put in the story.  There are two sets of four that I named and included. 

First is the group from the rural area near Puerto Valor, and thus they have Spanish names: Isabella, Serafito, Paz, Ana.  I'm pretty sure I named the younger ones with shorter names to help myself keep them straight.  In my head, they have a darker complexion than the rest of the kids in the story, since I always wish the DQ world was a little more diverse on that front, but I fear that I forgot to actually write that detail in.  (Room for improvement...)

The second group is an expansion of the four child NPCs you can find playing hide-and-seek in downtown Heliodor.  I could only find a canon name for Cammo (the King of Hide-and-Seek) so I gave the rest of them stone related names, figuring the pattern from Cobblestone might extend around Heliodor into the poorer and less formal areas of the kingdom (Ruby the innkeeper notwithstanding). So they are Flint, Crystal, and Mica.

There are so many of them that it was tough to give all of them a lot of characterization, but I tried to distinguish each of them at least a little.  Isabella, the leader of her group, blunt in a way that reminds Erik of Mia and Veronica.  Serafito, a little bit of a self-sacrificing caretaker. Paz, young but outgoing, and Ana, even younger and a little shy.  Flint, the canny, cautious, and slightly manipulative leader of the Heliodor gang.  Cammo, sneaky and adventurous and clever.  Crystal, strong and brave and protective.  Mica unfortunately ended up being most notable for the ordeals he goes through.

My favorite among them ended up being Crystal, from the instant she decided she was after Hendrik's job.

Diamond

A Sylv/Serena and Sylv/Dave fic, from Serena’s point of view.  Set after Act 3 as Serena chooses a mission to research and perform healing around the world, travels alongside Sylv’s new circus troupe, and they both get to pursue some missing character development.  (118k words, technically 1 chapter short of an intended ending but may not be continued.)

Mind the tags and content advisory if you go into the fic itself, because (1) for reasons of 2020, a story about a doctor-hero was simply not an ideal story to begin in the year 2019, and (2) it is NOT a utopian style world — many characters have prejudices, others are closeted in some major ways, and not all of that is gone by the end of the story.  I 100% understand many folks not wanting to go roll around in that kind of fiction, and while there’s a discussion about Representation I could shoehorn in here, I’m going to set it aside for the sake of on-topic rambling about fun OC development.

For this fic, I wanted Sylv and Serena to be traveling the world together.  Serena was to be motivated in part by the allure of getting to meet more new people, and also, I think it’s useful for her personal growth to spend a little time away from her blood family and most of the people from whom she would naturally take direction.  I also wanted to explore Sylv as a leader in a way that’s not so easy within the canon party, and in general, I imagine Sylv both being friendly to every stranger and also having old friends pop up everywhere he goes.

Between the two of them, I ended up needing to plop in OC's left and right, both for Sylv’s new Act 3 circus troupe, and in every town they visited.  Because I’m a nerd, I expanded lore for some of the regions too, and I will mention some of those details here with the characters.

Sylv’s troupe:

Chill, a contortionist from Sniflheim, where people get kind of uncomfy about magic, especially when it looks too close to evil witchery.  Like, say, Zing.

Samir, a short, round bard from Gallopolis who can do amazing things with a variety of instruments, and his partner Grey, once a guard from Heliodor until he decided that job was even more bland than his name, and he ran off to Gallopolis to join the circus.

Maria and Mateo, a couple of quiet, short and slender dancers from Puerto Valor (in my head, Mateo is about 5 feet and Maria’s a couple inches shorter, though I keep gravitating away from talking in Modern Earth units of measurement when writing for this fandom).  Their kids, teenaged Leo and toddler Lena, aren’t (yet) performers, but are present because I thought it was interesting to plug some kids into a story about a traveling circus troupe, and because I wanted to give Sylv an excuse to interact with kids.

Francine. A classically beautiful acrobat from Octagonia, where the only work she could find was being a bunny girl handing out flyers.  She’s had a crush on Sylv, which didn’t work out, and in the aftermath she’s a little bitter and is predisposed to dislike anyone else getting too close to Sylv.  She is rude and spiteful when she does not like someone (though she may do so in an overly-sweet tone), and she awkwardly overcompensates when she wants to prove she’s moved on from something, and she ended up being my favorite OC here.

Some other notable OCs in the world:

In Sniflheim: Healer Heather, the doctor who would really rather not have any magic in her house, so she doesn’t get a mob coming after her next time the tide of public opinion turns against witches.

In Lonalulu: Nohea, the charming and handsome hula dancer who isn’t quite as nice as he seems, and Pika, the shy, plain, and clumsy but kind-hearted net weaver.  Both are there as potential love interests for Serena (and for contrast against Sylv, of course).

In the Inner Sea: Coral the mermaid, a singer.  She's here for advancing Serena's character development, but it was fun to have other OCs react to a mermaid, and trying to write plot-advancing mermaid dialogue raised my respect for the localization team 1000%.

In Gallopolis: Doctor Zel, who is very scientific and good at her job, never makes eye contact, and lacks a comforting bedside presence.  (Happily they have Faris to help with public relations during a health crisis…?)

This is only about half of the OCs and NPCs named in the story, but they’re most of the ones with the most screen time, and most of the ones that stand out in my mind.  But the outgoing and friendly Sylv and Serena I was trying to write, both of whom wanted to engage with the people of the world at large, just spawned new characters around them as they went.  You know those stories about mythical people where flowers bloom after them everywhere they go?  This pair was like that, only with OC’s instead of flowers.

[fordanoia]

I Think I Saw You [Ch 1: A Place to Start]

Fandom: Gravity Falls || CW: - || Stan comes to Gravity Falls upon receiving a postcard from Ford, but he can’t find him and he has to figure out what’s going on. || Ao3 || Fic Tag

Prologue || Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || - || - || -

______(~3.5k words)______

After an hour he still hadn’t seen Ford, and it was still freezing. When he checked the thermostat he saw why the heat hadn’t changed, out of the side of it there a few wires poked out and when Stan pulled the cover off he saw the bundle of mangled wires that had been shakily cut and pulled.

An hour and a half ago, this would have been something he could play off, instead it just added onto the pile of everything else he had found since. The blood, the locks, and then all the writings.

The paranoid scrawls of Ford’s handwriting across papers scattered both on the floor and his desks, none of any that made real sense. Most of his cursive had turned illegible with haphazard lines and out of what wasn’t it was mostly technical talk about machinery and electric waves that Stan didn’t understand the first thing about.

There was only one idea that Stan could get out of the writings, because Ford had written it over and over in different ways, and it was creepy as hell.

‘I’m being watched.’

The idea echoed throughout the entire house - into the excessive amount of locks on the front door, the extra nails in the thick boards pressed against the windows, the barbed wire strung out in the snow around the house.

It even followed Stan himself when he had gone outside to grab firewood from the stack of cut logs near the edge of the trees. He only felt it though because he’d been reading the idea over and over while in some kind of horror movie murder hut looking cabin out in the middle of the woods.

It somehow felt even colder inside even after he closed the door. The icy wind from outside whipping inside after him and scraping at his sides and around his shoulders persisting until he was halfway down the hallway. He supposed that’s what he got for breaking a window for all the wind to come in through.

Stan carried the logs to the fireplace and lit a fire there, settling down on the floor in front of it for the heat.

His gut insisted something was wrong, but Stan had already figured that when he’d gotten the letter. Only difference now was it was a lot harder to think that Ford had sent him the postcard so they could reconnect or- or something like that.

There was no denying something was wrong by this point. He just wished Ford would show up so he could ask him what that something was.

Stan waited by the fire, letting crackling heat fill the space and time with half thoughts flitting every which way.

One particular rabbit hole of thinking kept pulling him back down every time he tried to convince himself that Ford would be back any minute.

Where would his brother have gone out in the middle of a blizzard so bad it frosted over Stan’s car in five minutes? And why?

After a half hour, the question was too big to ignore.

“Dammit, Ford, where the hell are you?” He muttered absently. Another cold wind wound its way into the room.

Grimacing, Stan got up off the floor, leaving his duffel bag in the middle of the floor and went to the kitchen. The fridge wasn’t empty, but it was clear not everything in there was meant to be food so Stan turned towards the pantry instead. As he did though, his eyes caught onto the window and stared. Between the wooden boards, the view outside was darkening.

If Ford was still outside - what if he was stuck somewhere close? Just nearby, Stan could check that far. Ford himself couldn’t have gotten that far on foot himself, and if he was in a car then he at least had something to hide in to keep himself from turning into a popsicle.

Even if he didn’t find anything, Stan couldn’t stand just waiting around and doing nothing like this, not when something bad was looming over this whole situation.

Stan turned on his heel, out the kitchen and unlocking the back door before remembering to zip his jacket closed and pull up the hood. Stepping outside, he pulled on his gloves. He didn’t bother locking the door back.

The white expanse in front of his feet quickly led to the tall forest, and Stan walked forward, keeping his hands in his pockets for the time being, only pulling them out to mark snow against a tree side to help him keep track of where he was at or for balance going down a steep little hill.

“If you’re stuck in a damn ditch right now...” He swore aloud, nearly losing his balance and falling. With the light of the sun dying he couldn’t stay outside long, and he knew it and he knew walking into the woods when it was getting dark was stupid, but it was better than nothing.

As Stan turned right, walking in a large circle around where he knew the shack was, he shouted for Ford as he went. Nothing around him looked like a person and the only colors around were white and brown.

Stan got increasingly frustrated as the light dimmed to the point that he had even less of a chance of making anything important out.

Ford was supposed to be here. Not outside here, but- but when Stan had showed up! Instead Stan came up to an empty cabin. Something was wrong enough for him to call Stan and he couldn’t tell what because Ford couldn’t even just be here for when Stan showed up!!

He looked like he’d been the one needing help though. Maybe a gang was after Ford. He didn’t really think Ford would have gotten involved with a gang much less people at all looking at the state of his house, but it’d at least make sense.

All the little details inside the house screamed that Ford was scared of something or someone, and that wasn’t even bringing into the fact that Ford wrote like someone was after him, watching him.

Stan’s foot snagged onto a covered tree branch and he tipped forward with a curse - hands going out to catch himself. He hit the snowy floor on his gloved hands and then down the hill, sliding onto his side.

He stopped halfway down the hill, his entire right side covered with snow. He turned to a sitting position and carefully stood up, wobbling against the wind. He numbly wiped the snow off of himself before it all melted, gloves wet by the time he was done.

He sighed, biting down on his lip and taking in his dark surroundings. He wouldn’t be able to see Ford even if he was here.

Stan took in a deep breath, then cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted one last time. “Ford if you’re there then just say something!”

He waited in the dull hum of wind broken up by dense trees and softly shifting snow, straining his ears for a response.

Standing still like this and waiting for a noise only made him feel all the more alone.

He glanced down at his hands and took the wet gloves off to shove into his pockets up against the brass knuckles. Turning, he headed back up the hill towards the shack, pushing his hands into his pockets.

He started shivering after a couple minutes, clenching his jaw tight to stop his teeth from clacking.

Stan pressed his arms into his sides bracing himself as he made it back onto flat ground again. The wind has since started to die down, at the very least.

A little while later he finally saw the shape of the shack through the trees, and turned direction to make a beeline towards it.

His right arm and leg felt like they were overheating by this point, but he’d been around enough to know when he was actually in danger of frostbite. That being said, he needed to change and light that fire again because the house was cold enough he’d definitely catch frostbite if he didn’t do anything about it.

Still shaking, he started the fire again. It took a few minutes because his fingers weren’t exactly cooperating right now, but hey.

He went upstairs to swipe some clothes from Ford’s room. He snorted at seeing the few sweater vests hanging in the closet, instead going for a plain black shirt and some pants.

After he changed, he raided through closets until he finally found one with a blanket inside and wrapped it around himself before going back down and sitting in front of the fire to warm up. He was still hungry, but he could deal with that later.

The more he warmed up the more bone tired he felt.

Stan tried to let himself fall asleep, and he was well beyond the point of being tired enough for it, but it took a while. He knew he’d wake up if Ford did come back in the middle of the night, he was a light sleeper. Not knowing what was going on though wasn’t helping.

Eventually though Stan fell asleep.

______

When Stan woke up the fire in front of him had burnt out and the cold was creeping in at him where he wasn’t covered.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and blearily staring at the burn out embers turned black and gray now.

After a while he finally got up and changed into his dry clothes, calling a couple times into the empty house for Ford. It was worth a shot, even if Ford was nowhere to be seen, of course.

Stomach growling and rolling in on itself, he went to the kitchen and pulled a sleeve of crackers out from the pantry to eat on at the small kitchen table and sitting near the window so he could look out between the wooden boards.

Finding Ford was- hell Ford was the only reason he was here in the first place, he had to find him. And if he hadn’t showed up by now he wasn’t coming back here.

Stan sighed heavily. It was either finding him or figuring out what happened so he could find him. Neither one was going well right now though.

“Okay,” he said to himself. “Okay.”

“So-” he ran his hand through his hair and sighed again. “So, what do I got? He thought someone was watching him, built this place up like he was expecting a raid or something, and now he’s not here.” Stan tapped his finger on the table and chewed on another cracker.

Both doors were locked too so it didn’t look like he was dragged out. Even if someone did drag him out of here, locking the door wouldn’t have made a difference and would have been more work than it was worth.

Stan pulled the postcard Ford had sent him out of his pocket now, looking at it and flipping it over. It had gotten crumpled and the texture had changed from where it had gotten wet last night, but everything was still readable.

He frowned. No send date stamped on it, so that didn’t help him. It could have taken the mail system anywhere from a few days to a few weeks for the post card to reach Stan from Oregon.

So... why would Ford have left this place after he’d fortified it this much. He couldn’t have had somewhere more secure than this, right? Not unless there was secretly a castle in the woods he could hold up inside. Did being watched matter so much that he had to get out of here?

Stan was still looking down at the postcard, thumb tracing over the bent corner that was close to falling off.

Where would he go if he thought this place wasn’t safe?

“Who’d even be watching you out here...?” Stan muttered, tucking the card away and getting up.

Stan went back through the rooms, grabbing any scrap of paper he saw with writing on it and dumped it all onto the desk in a relatively empty study.

He turned the lamp overhead on and started going through the papers for any information, quickly slapping all the stuff that only had equations on it into one pile to look if he got desperate.

What he was left with was - still hard to read just like yesterday, but this time he took the time to try and figure out the actual messy scrawls where they happened and find anything that could help point to what was going on.

The most legible stuff was full of technical jargon and Stan had to focus hard to not read the same sentence over and over again or look at the occasional doodled triangle.

It seemed to be about some machine to do with... electric omega waves? Some kind of waves. The more Stan read the more he picked up on the less scientific stuff inside. Supernatural barriers and rituals that definitely hadn’t come out of a physics textbook.

There was a room here that had been half filled with photos and samples of supernatural things, like mushrooms three times as tall as Ford himself and the needles of whatever a gremloblin was. It was a nice reminder that even if he hadn’t seen Ford yet, his brother still hadn’t changed that much.

After reading through most of the boring stuff Stan was able to piece together at least something. Ford had made two machines.

The first one, which Stan was going to call the problem machine, had made some kind of problem that Ford was trying to fix. He kept briefly mentioning this problem - a hole, a rift, a breach, never anything specific enough to know what it actually was though. No matter what though it always sounded like something about it was a problem or had made a problem.

The second machine was supposed to fix that. Stan didn’t really know how, kinda didn’t look like Ford had figured that out either, but it had something to do with waves and something supernatural.

Going from knowing zilch to knowing something was great, really it was better than the absolute jack all he had yesterday, but he still didn’t know what these machines were actually for.

If he was trying to use the supernatural with the fixer machine though maybe the problem also had something supernatural to it. And whatever the problem was, it was definitely big. Big enough that someone was after him.

Stan nearly gave up on the really illegible stuff, but half way through one page he realized that for several lines Ford was writing the same thing over and over ‘can’t sleep.’

Stan felt a pit drop into his stomach, looking for the very worst writing he could find across the pages and nearly every sentence he managed to trudge through sounded like that. Over and over again, Ford kept talking like even a nap like it was the end of the world.

Finally- god damn finally- Ford mentioned someone.

‘I have to stay awake. I can’t let Him win.’

“Come on, give me a name or something here." It was like the most annoying game of 'Guess Who' but from a vague piece of paper that nobody else besides Stan probably would have bothered to read through considering it was torn nearly in half and smudged in dirt.

Tapping his foot, Stan tried to quickly read and just winded up getting frustrated when he couldn’t, before he finally tossed the paper away from him.

His imagination got away from him, seeing Rico’s guys coming after Ford - except as soon as he imagined them creeping up to where Ford was tucked into the cabin it stopped making sense and the picture in his head fell away.

There were no bullet holes anywhere around the house, not even any forced signs of entry besides the one Stan made himself. So what had been going on when Ford had been here?

He wasn’t sure if he’d prefer if it was like the people he’d dealt with before, it’d be bad, but at least Stan knew how to work with that. This guy? Stan didn’t know what this guy had been doing or what he’d been planning to do that had Ford this scared.

“What was this guy watching you for anyway?” He asked the paper, the only damn thing around here that could even answer his questions.

The lamp light flickered three times before returning to normal. “Better not be cameras in here.” Stan muttered, before picking up a new page to read.

The lamp, however, started going in and out, electricity failing for long enough that it got distracting.

Stan stood up and unplugged the lamp from the wall then securely plugged it back in, looking back at the light a moment to make sure it wasn’t about to go on the fritz again before sitting back down.

He didn’t get far though because the light flickering again, stopping when Stan turned his head to watch it for a moment. He leaned back in his chair, tipping it back onto two legs and letting his eyes glaze over in the direction of all the paper piled up in front of him.

Maybe the guy had nabbed Ford while he was out of the house. It made enough sense. It’d explain why everything had still been locked up when Stan got here and why Ford wouldn’t have come back to his fortress of solitude.

If he was watching Ford then sure he’d know when he left the house and Ford couldn’t stay inside forever if he ran out of food.

The only other option Stan could really think of was that Ford decided this shack wasn’t safe anymore, but again - Stan had no idea where Ford could have gone.

Technically, he also had no idea where anything in town was or where someone could be trapping Ford, but finding a shady place sounded a lot easier than finding whatever Ford would consider safe from this guy’s eyes when a remote cabin out in the woods wasn’t. If Ford left for a new hideout, paranoid that he was being watched, then chances were he made sure he wasn’t seen and left no traces behind.

Stan started to feel grounded, with some options finally sliding into place.

Ford was either being held captive somewhere or he had hidden himself somewhere nobody would find him. So all Stan had to do was look around until he found someone that fit the bill, or if Ford was hiding out somewhere then for him to notice Stan running around and eventually leave him some kind of sign.

Stan's eyes focused as the light from the lamp started to quietly buzz, darkening to a low light before it began flickering.

Stan tipped his chair back to the ground, and reached inside to twist the bulb in tighter.

He watched the lamp expectantly and for a solid couple seconds it seemed like it had done the trick.

Then the light began to flicker on repeatedly, flashing three times and after a pause the light held on for a moment before the bulb darkened again.

Stan watched the faulty light flicker along for a few seconds before he finally stood up and just unplugged it from the wall entirely. He was done reading anyway.

Plus he could eat pretty much anything he wanted when Ford wasn’t here. Even if Ford wanted to get mad at him about it later, he’d just say he couldn’t get to the store for food anyway. Not that Stan had any money to buy food even if he went to town.

Stan went downstairs and into the kitchen, ready to rummage something more than crackers this time.

When he flipped the light switch on though it started flickering and Stan groaned. “You gotta be kidding me.”

He flipped the switch back off. Then on. “Work.”

The light turned on and Stan stayed poised with his finger at the switch and waited. When nothing happened he finally went over to the pantry. “That’s what I thought.”

He pushed aside the box of crackers and started to inspect the cans for soup or something good when the light started slowly flickering again. He ignored it for the first couple seconds, but it kept going.

After a dozen seconds he finally shot a scowl at the still flickering light before walking back towards the switch. The instant he took a step, the light started going completely haywire and he swore he could hear the electricity from it buzzing.

“Alright, yeah that’s-”

Stan had made it halfway across the kitchen when there was a loud pop and the light over his head burst, plunging the room into darkness with the tinkling of glass and a crackling noise of uncontained electricity that soon died down.

[katedrakeohd]

#Wacky Drabbles 32

This week's prompt: I've never lied to you

The prompt will appear in the story in bold.

Word Count: Haven't a clue, because I wrote it all here in tumblr.

Rated PG: Adult situations, coarse language

This is a continuation of My Very Valtorian Christmas with the TRH gang.

Tagging:

@jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @furiousherringoperatortoad @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @samihatuli @kingliam2019 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @emceesynonymroll @wickedgypsymoon @gardeningourmet @indiacater @bobasheebaby @loveellamae @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @mskaneko @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @emichelle @griselda1121 @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek @princessleac1 @addictedtodrakefanfic @janezillow @nikkis1983 @texaskitten30 @debramcg1106 @ravenpuff02

Part Eight: Breakfast Battle (1)

Sitting at her vanity table, Kate brushes out her hair while she waits for Drake to finish up in the bathroom. His earlier outburst over their researching of Cordonian baby names without him weighs heavily on her mind. Kate saw his point about wanting to be included, but the feeling that Drake was overreacting to the whole thing was bothering her too. And now Olivia was coming to dinner tonight, which was going to put Drake even more on edge. Breakfast this morning was going to be interesting, especially if Drake was still feeling prickly about the list he hadn't even seen yet.

With a sigh she puts her brush back down on the vanity, and studies her reflection in the mirror. Her hair looked ok, but her skin looked tired and dry. Whatever glow that pregnant women were supposed to exhibit must be switched off today. Reaching for her jar of moisturizer, she hears the bathroom door open and turns her head to look.

Drake comes out of the bathroom with his black dress shirt hanging open, he mutters to himself as he does up the cuff of his sleeve. He's clean shaven and his damp hair is combed back neatly in place. As he comes closer Kate smells the fresh and spicy scent of his aftershave, and can't help but breath deeply. He glances up and stops walking when he notices Kate's open appraisal of him.

With a disarming smirk that always makes Kate feel warm all over he says, "You know that whole, I'm undressing you with my eyes look, kind of defeats the purpose of me putting on fancy clothes."

Kate grins and looks down, a blush coming to her cheeks, and then looks back up. "Well, can you blame me? This is a really nice look for you. You could start a new dress code for the manor."

Looking down and pulling his shirt open, he chuckles as he walks over to Kate.

"So it wouldn't bother you to have the guests walking around with their shirts open too? I don't think we need to encourage Maxwell to have a reason to show off what he's got going on. You know how he always says he's down for anything."

"Well maybe not the guests, but Preston definitely. Have you noticed how built your bodyguard is?"

Drake frowns, "As if I wasn't reminded every damn time I see him. He's taller, broader and more ridiculously chiseled than me. And what's with the moustache?"

Kate turns in her chair, tugging at the bottom of Drake's shirt to bring him closer. As she buttons up his shirt she exaggerates by pulling at the fabric, bringing it taut around his middle to make her point. "I wouldn't want it any other way. Because it's your body he's paid to protect. I know you take pride in the fact that you can take care of yourself. But you're more important now, especially to me. Would you rather have nobody watching your back?"

Drake shoves his hands in his pockets with a sigh, knowing that Kate's right.

"Ok fine, you have a point. It was different before when I was just a nobody commoner. Nicholas always had his bodyguards to keep him safe. I suppose when we were kids they looked after me too, unofficially anyway. I bet it was a pain in the ass to keep us out of trouble."

Kate stops buttoning his shirt, leaving the top two open. She slides her hands down his front as if to smooth out invisible wrinkles, using it as an excuse to touch him. When she reaches the button on his pants, Drake's hands ball into fists in his pockets. He's trying to hide his growing bulge, but only manages to draw more attention to it.

He clears his throat and takes a step back. "I thought you were dressing me, not the other way around."

Kate pushes herself up out of her chair, grabbing her cardigan sweater off the back. "I was just going to tuck in your shirt."

Drake grins, doing it himself and then doing up his belt. "Uh huh right, you were just looking for a reason to shove your hands down my pants."

Kate shrugs into her sweater, stepping over closer to Drake with a mischeivous grin on her face. "Usually you don't mind so much. You can't say you didn't enjoy it."

"Nope, not at all."

Kate steps into his arms, taking a deep breath of his scent before letting it out with a sigh. "Liar, liar, sexy pants on fire."

Drake shakes his head, giving her upturned face gently placed kisses. "I've never lied to you."

Kate giggles, sliding her hands up and down his back. "What about all of those months you denied you had feelings for me?"

"Well technically I was lying to myself, not you. Ok, fine I'm a liar a bad one at that.

We're late for breakfast already. And when we meet Preston and Mara in the hall to escort us, I really don't want to be pointing the way. Or be sitting uncomfortably at the table. We can continue this later."

"Promise?"

Drake gives her one last kiss, and then reluctantly steps back. "Yes, I promise. Besides we have other presents to unwrap today, and I'm hungry."

Kate tucks a handful of her pistachio cookies into the pockets of her sweater, making Drake shake his head at her.

"What? I want to share some with Hana and Maxwell. Don't worry I'll save you one."

Drake tucks his phone in his pocket and then reaches for her hand. "Come on, let's go."

[save-the-spiral]

InkWizTober Day Thirteen: Ash + Return from Beyond

Welcome to day thirteen of Inktober! I wrote about my oc Fledge, who I’ve written snippets about before but this is literally their entire storyline of the first arc. They use any pronouns before the events of this, but are misgendered hardcore in the beginning and use they/them exclusively afterwards in the first arc. I also included my friend @pyromancyy‘s oc Caleb, Caleb’s not my boy. Warnings for swearing, misgendering, microagressions (touching their hair w/o consent), blood, death, undead creatures, kidnapping (a literal child), forcing my small oc to do horrible things, so child trauma.

(link to prompt lists) (link to inktober tag)

Fledge is eight years old when their entire world is ruined. It happens like this: Merle Ambrose notices a strange human child with no parents in Ravenscar, not hidden like they usually are when outsiders come to Grizzleheim. Merle Ambrose grabs Fledge by the arm, and bodily drags them from the Ravens, claiming that Fledge just needs to go to Ravenwood, that it will domesticate 'him’.

Fledge has to watch the angry expressions on their guardian’s faces morph into helplessness as they are pulled up a rickety wooden ramp and out of Ravenscar.

They’re dazed from some kind of spell, stumbling and mostly dragged through Northguard. Bears and wolves alike who know them- have called Fledgling their Pup or Cub, have cared for them- have to just stand by and watch. Grizzleheim has trade agreements their economy, their entire world, relies on. They can’t start a fight with the wizards now, not when Wizard City houses some of the most powerful wizards, not when they could drag other worlds into it as well.

Right before the Rainbow Bridge, a large bear woman that taught Fledge how to light a fire palms them a small single bladed axe, sadly stepping away before Merle notices. Fledge hides it in the folds of their feathery cloak.

Fledge had never gone over the Rainbow Bridge before that day. Children were forbidden from playing near it, and were never to even think about playing around the Spiral Door beyond it. 

They were dragged into the Door, afraid and still dazed, speechless and without the mobility to sign anything either. Then they were pulled through, and it hurts, like their being is pulled apart and put back together. They don’t know if it’s homesickness setting in already or the Door.

Their first impression of Wizard City was that it was weird. 

Who keeps their Door in a real living being? 

Later, when Fledge learns theoretical physics, they’ll hate the concept of that even more.

They almost pass out from the stress of it, and are very confused when the people around them don’t speak Grizzleheim’s language, having to switch their mind to work with Common. The only thing that anchors them is the coolness of a metal axe blade against their spine, hidden. 

They’re introduced as a boy. 

Fledge isn’t a boy. They just pick and choose what to wear, sometimes ask to be a boy or a girl when they feel like it, but they won’t ever be a boy always.

They aren’t awake enough anymore to be angry.

A professor with hair like fire in a big stupid curl calls them cute when they wake up. She touches their dreadlocks without permission and it takes everything inside them to not burn her alive for it.

They learned ruthlessness in Grizzleheim from the Wolves and the Bears, but right now they needed the Raven cunning to get back home.

Fledge plays dumb, mostly. They pretend to not know how to write Common, only understanding speech. Every single student and professor treats them like a baby, except for the bald one who looks like he ate rotten berries. 

It works for a few weeks, and they fall into a bit of a routine. Stay in their dorm, sit in a classroom and sleep, wander around as if lost when really they’re looking for escape routes, some way to get into the big tree without the permission others seem to need.

It’s not until someone starts trash talking their home world that they blow their cover.

It’s some arrogant death wizard with a rat familiar always perched on his shoulder. Even his peers seem to dislike him, but they still laugh when he insults the people of Grizzleheim.

It’s then that Fledge says, in perfect Common, “Take it back or I duel you and you lose.”

And, well, the boy couldn’t refuse that challenge, even if others seem unnerved that Fledge can speak at all. The death wizard says he’ll go easy on Fledge.

Fledge shrugs, eyes wide as they enter the dueling arena. As soon as the battle array lights up, they pull out a thick deck of cards and the axe they were given, now glowing in ancient Grizzleheim runes, the silver blade reflecting flames that aren’t there.

It only takes a few turns to cast an oversized, screeching phoenix and simultaneously terrify and defeat the boy in one hit.

After that, Fledge walks past all of the shocked students and goes back to their dorm to nap. 

The adults tell Fledge to go to the later classes, the ones for older students. The people here are even taller and even meaner at times. Fledge doesn’t ignore assignments now, only answering them in ancient Grizzleheim runes that no one but a few people from their home world could decipher. 

Most of the students begin avoiding them, speaking lies about them.

Then the death school falls, and thirty kids along with it. The death professor is blamed, and now every competent wizard is sent to clear monsters from the residential areas of the world.

Fledge has always had a temper. And finally being able to fight something for real, to not hold anything back and vent their frustration?

They may have cracked off a few areas of Firecat Alley on accident, but they do clear out every enemy, so they technically followed orders, only with the other three members on their team having to stay back to not get their flesh melted off their bones.

Maybe they ran away. 

Anyway, as soon as Fledge gets back to Ravenwood, Merle Fucking Ambrose is there, and he says Fledge needs to find Professor Malistaire Drake, to defeat the man before the Spiral is destroyed. 

The only reason Fledge says yes is because Grizzleheim is in the Spiral, so the whole universe shouldn’t be destroyed. 

They’re given a few keys, and told that Krokotopia would be their first stop. 

Krokotopia is hot and dry and they hate it in their raven feather cloak and thick leather tunic. They persevere, and play dumb with the dogs because they know the dogs can’t help it, they’re like wolves, but wrong and stupid. 

It takes only a few battles in the first pyramid for enemies to start running away from them. They follow leads, dragging dogs out of trouble because they tend to babble out new information, and eventually they get to the second pyramid.

They love the Colosseum, because it has honor to it. More honor than Wizard City could ever have, much more than the Marleybone dogs. It reminds them of home, of proving yourself with your strength. 

After the second pyramid, they stay with the Krok in the balance school for a few days, getting their wounds tended to and learning a bit. With their knack for languages they have conversational Krokotopian learned in a couple of days, and they start on their ancient runes too before remembering themself. They rush off to the last pyramid with trade promises between Krokotopia and Grizzleheim running through their head, occupying their thoughts.

The third pyramid is easy as well, though the dead things unnerve Fledge. It’s not simply the fact that they are dead, it’s that they never got their peace, or were brought back to this realm by a dark force. 

Fledge delights in defeating Krokopatra, who actually has strategy, and is the first difficult opponent they’ve faced. She still dissolves into sand after revealing that the secret they’re looking for is in Marleybone, but they let her die with honor, with a fairer fight than most got.

Marleybone is just annoying. They run around on rooftops, growling back at dogs who dare to call them uncivilized, and they fix their gang problem within a week with brutal efficiency. The Krokonomicon is no longer in Meowiarty’s hands, though.

If Fledge melts the interior of the huge clock tower, no one alive is around to tell the tale. 

They move onto Mooshu now, their last key, their only way to get to Dragonspyre. The culture shock is startling, but learning the languages of the world is the most interesting thing they’ve been able to do in the past half a year since they were kidnapped.

This world takes much longer. With Fledge more sympathetic to their plight, they spend more time doing it right instead of the easier way that ‘technically’ accomplishes their goal. Mooshu’s connection to nature makes them take the longer routes most times, as opposed to razing down their pretty trees and bamboo forests. 

They team up with some wizards from Mooshu who are looking for others to help heal their poisoned emperor, to heal the land itself as well. 

It takes six months before Fledge stands before the last oni, able to roar back at it with the perfect Mooshu accent and dialect in response to its taunts. They take this battle alone, and it drags on for hours before the Jade Oni falls, the sick form of the emperor taking its place.

Fledge gets the Dragonspyre key, and for the first time feels homesick for a world other than Grizzleheim when they leave. 

Dragonspyre is awful. They retch at the stench of brimstone, looking miserably up at the professor from Wizard City who only looks at them pityingly before saying “You got taller.” 

Fledge figures if they had to send a child on a mission to murder their sibling they’d be upset too, so they don’t let it phase them. They struggle through Dragonspyre, having to make sense of long dead ghosts and crazed drakes. They travel through time and see a world like Wizard City, and don’t mourn that it’s gone. They spend months getting approval from specters.

Eventually they’re able to travel into the husk that once was Dragonspyre Academy. They speak to the tree left there, and she’s joyful. They learn the ancient Dragonspyrian tongue from her because she seems far too lonely. They promise to visit again each time they have to leave on a new mission in order to finally scale the Great Spyre, and every time Ashley is surprised they come back alive.

Fledge gets to hatch an actual drake. They feel it bump against the thick shell, sitting there at the base of Ashley's trunk. Fledge uses their raven feather cloak as a nest for the giant egg. They cry for the first time in years when the little drake is born, aging rapidly in front of their eyes until its large enough to carry Fledge, though still stumbling like a newborn deer.

Fledge plays for the first time in years too, rolling around and wrestling with the baby drake, chasing and being chased, until Ashley has to remind them of their goal.

It’s two years after being kidnapped when they fly up to the top of the Great Spyre, axe in hand, a drake of their own at their side now, refusing to leave Fledge for even a moment.

They tear through the preliminary forces of undead, reaching Malistaire completely unscathed. The man is surprised, staring at Fledge.

“You’re so small.” His voice cracks, bloodshot eyes wide. “You’re a child- no, no- please-!” 

Fledge is numb to it all. Two years of this. They weren’t going to wait for some monologue to end it. The Dragon Titan eyes the scene with one sleepy eye, before rumbling contentedly and falling asleep once again.

Fledge has to dig through Malistaire’s ashes to find the Krokonomicon, but when they do find it they toss it off the world as hard as they can, and hop onto their Drake’s back, flying back down to speak to Ashley again before they have to leave for the last time.

In the end, they return to the Basilica to see the still living Drake brother, only nodding grimly when asked if it was done. Professor Drake’s grip on their shoulder is shaky when they go through the Spiral Door to Wizard City.

The students crowd around, awed by them, still calling them a boy, still asking why they are so silent, still trying to touch their now longer hair. 

Fledge is dazed, and their drake is confused, only able to make sure no one gets to close. Eventually they’re saved by the same death student they had beat in a duel two years ago, the arrogant boy now with one less arm and a more subdued attitude, and Fledge gets to drink tea for the first time since Mooshu.

Fledge dozes off in the abandoned Nightside house Caleb had been fixing up into a home. They watch the boy who once yelled at them, was once defeated by them, and has now saved them from a cyclical fate. Fledge finds themself crying when they notice Caleb is, and they curl into their drake’s warmth, lulled into sleep by the promise of safety at last.

Fledge is ten years old when their world is starting to be put back together.

[dabble-writes]

Death’s Bride-- (8)

| Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Pairing:

Namjoon/Reader

Summary:

You are a Seer. What is a Seer? A Seer is someone whose sixth sense is stronger than most people’s and can see Death. You did not want to be one, you just want to be normal—yet what happens when Death comes for you? No, not for you to die—for you to be his bride.

*Based on a novel I wrote before in Wattpad by the same title*

Tags:

Romance, Fantasy, Fluff

Warnings:

None. Lots of fluff so you might get a cavity 

CHAPTER 6: DEATH’S WIFE

“So this is the infamous Death.” Your mom said, studying Namjoon.

Namjoon shifted his weight to his other foot, a bit nervous at your mom’s stare, “Uh, I actually go by Namjoon now...”

“Yes, Y/N, mention that. Still, you are Death, right?”

Namjoon sighed, “Yes, yes I am.”

“Can you prove it? How do I know you are not some psycho that brainwashed my child?”

“Mom!”, you cried. 

“It’s a valid point. I trust you, but I’m not sure about him.”

Namjoon gave her a confused look, “Was teleportating in your living room right in front of you not prove enough?”

Your mom narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips, “You make a fair point. You may have some powers that I cannot explain.”

Namjoon went up to her, “I’m sorry I cannot show you more, but there’s only so much I can do. No one around here is going to die, so I cannot show you that.”

There was a pause as your mom studied him, then she nodded. 

“Fine, I believe you. You seem pretty genuine.”

“Thank you...?” Namjoon asked uncertainly, turning to you for support.

“Yes, so please don’t file another missing person’s report.”

“...it’s a bit too late for that, dearie.” Your mom said, “though I will call the police department up right away and say to forget it. They might never believe me again, seeing as this is the second time this happened...”

You groaned, “Of course.”

“Need I remind you that you were gone for weeks? I mean, I filed it just in case your whole ‘Death’ theory was some baloney you were brainwashed to believe in.”

“....that’s a fair point. But anyway, there’s something else I need to tell you. It’s about the prophecy.”

“Besides the fact that you’re destined to marry him?”

Your face heat up as you remembered that you’re going to marry Namjoon, “Yes, besides that. I...technically died.”

Your mom studied you, “You don’t look dead.”

You looked at Namjoon for support.

“That’s because she’s not dead. But she’s also not technically alive either. She sort of rebirthed to be Life.”

Your mom looked at the two of you.

“...you can’t be serious, right?”

“It’s true, mom.” You replied, “I am Life.”

“But what does that mean exactly?”

You looked at Namjoon, “Well, so far it’s been pretty vague, but apparently it’s very similar to what Namjoon does but instead of giving souls death sentences I’m helping God with the creation process. I don’t know, I’ll be starting my training next week with God so I should get more details on that.”

“Hold up, you’re going to meet God? Like The God?” Your mother said incredulously, “And you’re going to help him with the creation process?”

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, “Yeah, I’m pretty nervous about it. But I talking to God and he seems pretty chill. Interesting enough, he has a sense of humor.”

“The trick is getting him to stop making those horrible jokes.” Namjoon muttered and you elbowed him.

“Stop being grumpy.”

“Wait until you work with him; you’ll be singing a different tune soon enough.”

“Maybe that’s why you got stuck with the death process instead of the life process---you don’t appreciate God’s jokes.”

“Thank God for small favors.” Namjoon muttered.

Your mother still seemed like she was trying to adsorb the news, “...my daughter is Life and is working directly under God...what a concept...”

“Relax, mom,” You said, resting your hand on hers, “it’s fine. It’s still me. But with more responsibilities and having an actual purpose.”  

“Are you okay with all of this? It is a huge deal to take on.”

“I think I can handle this.” You replied, “I just hope I don’t disappoint God and make him regret his choice.”

Namjoon placed a hand on your thigh reassuringly, “You’ll be amazing, don’t doubt yourself.”

You smiled at him, “Thanks, Namjoon.” 

Your mom suddenly perked up, “Oh my god, I forgot that I was baking cookies. Let me take them out real quick before I burn them!”

You saw your mom rush out the room and gave Namjoon’s hand a squeeze. You really appreciated him coming to see your mom. 

“I love you”, you murmured; it was the first time you said it while you weren’t in the midst of dying.

Namjoon smiled, “And I love you. Marry me?”

That made your heart skip.

“What are you on about? Aren’t we already getting married?”

“Yes, but I want to make an actual proposal.”

“Wow, an actual proposal,” you teased, “what happened with the kidnapping scheme? It didn’t work out?”

“I found that it was very unpopular with the ladies.” Namjoon answered and you laughed. 

“Can’t argue with you on that.”

Namjoon looked a bit embarrassed, “The other so-called proposal doesn’t count. I don’t want to propose to you because of some prophecy, but because I want to.”

“You want to?”

“Of course.” He replied.

“That’s good.”

“So...what’s your answer?”

You saw a hint of worry in his expression and realized that he thinks that you might refuse him.

“Of course, you big oaf!” You said lovingly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Yes, a thousand times, yes.”

“Oh my goodness, you guys are so cute!” 

You instantly broke apart and you felt your face heat up, “Mom!”

It was your fault though, you forgot where you were.

“How long were you listening?”

“Long enough to know that I better be invited to this wedding.”

“Of course!” You went up to her and grabbed her hands, “Of course you’d be invited, mom.”

“As long as you don’t mind being in the after-world temporarily.”, Namjoon interjected.

Your mom’s eyes widened, “You’re not getting married here?”

“No, our union will be more...permanent than a human’s ceremony.”

Her eyes lit up, “Oh my gosh, how exciting! Seeing the afterlife, what a treat!”

Only your mom will be excited at the notion of visiting the underworld. 

“Thanks, mom.”

“What for?”

“For being understanding...I know this is a lot to take in.”

She smiled as she stroked your cheek, “Honey, I just want you to be happy. If this young man makes you happy, who am I to judge?”

You smiled but decided not to comment that Namjoon is definitely not a young man. 

“So do you guys want cookies? I managed not to burn them.”

And here we are. The day.

“Y/N! Why you still doing here? You supposed to be getting ready!”

You turned and saw LE stalking towards you, with her hands on her hips.

“But the wedding doesn’t start for another six hours...” You complained as she grabbed your wrist.

LE rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t be ridiculous, c’mon now.”

“But---”

“Y/N, dear, don’t give LE trouble.” Your mother appeared.

“Mom, I--”

“You decided to get married,” your mom said, “Now you have to go through the preparations.”

LE smiled at Namjoon, “Sorry Death, sir, but we have to get this one ready for her wedding. When we return her, you won’t even recognize her.”

You made a face, “Hopefully I won’t change too much.”

Namjoon chuckled, “I still want my bride, LE, not some other woman. Also you can call me Namjoon, remember?”

LE shrugged, “I forget.”

He turned to you and gave you a dimpled smile, “In any case, I’ll see you at the alter.”

You gave him one last smile before you were dragged off. You huffed.

“I have enough kidnappings to last me for my whole existence.” you muttered under your breath.

“Y/N, stop being so dramatic.” your mother admonish you and you pouted.

They’ve all ganged up on me. Why couldn’t Namjoon and I elope instead? It definitely would have been less dramatic. 

You arrived at your room and stopped when you saw who was standing in the middle of the room.

“Grandma?” You said tentatively, tears clouding your vision.

“Oh honey.” She brought her arms wide open and you ran into them, hugging her hard.

She is really here.

“Y/N, are you crying?” Gran asked.

“No,” you answered as you forced your eyes to stop getting watery, “something got in my eye, probably an eyelash or something.”

“Uh huh.” Your mom said, obviously not buying your lie.

“You leave the crying to your mom and I, okay?” Gran said, wiping the tears from your face, “this is a happy occasion.”

“But how are you here?” You said in wonder as you stared at her.

“How could I miss my grandchild’s wedding? Especially my favorite grandchild.”

You laughed, “I’m your only grandchild.”

That was a running gag between you guys and you felt it was all surreal, like it was the time on Earth before you met Namjoon.

“Namjoon let me come, he even let me bring your grandfather; you can meet him at the reception, he’s been anxious to meet you.”

“Grandpa is here?”, you asked in wonder; it was a little too much.

“Come, sit, let’s get you ready.” Gran led you to a chair.

“But, I thought you didn’t like Namjoon.”

She started to brush your hair. 

“I just didn’t like the thought that you would be part of a sketchy prophecy with someone you didn’t even know. You’ve been through so much and I’m proud with how you handled things.”

You started to feel your eyes get watery again, “Gran...”

“You really have grown so much since I last saw you.” Your grandma kindly said to you and you smiled.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” You replied, then looked at her closer, “In fact, it looks like you’ve gotten younger...”

Your grandma laughed, “Yes, death really becomes me apparently.”

Your mother then grabbed your hands and started to paint your nails, “You’re such a show-off, mother.”

“You’re just jealous, child.” your grandma said with a laugh and you smiled.

Oh how I miss this. 

They continued to get you ready and you heard a knock.

“Is everything fine, ladies?”

You turned and saw Jin walk into the room.

“Hey! Don’t you see the sign at the door that says ‘no men allowed’?” LE said, her eyes narrowed.

“I’m just checking in, there’s no need to be feisty.” Jin answered back.

“Feisty? Come over here and I’ll give you feisty.” LE snapped back and you had to put your hand over your mouth to cover the laugh that threatened to come out.

Ever since Jin learned LE was around, he kept trying to be around her--which would spark a lot of arguments between them. Honestly, you were waiting for the day where one of them will shut the other up with a kiss. 

Jin turned to you and smiled, “You look even more beautiful than usual, mi’lady.”

LE rolled her eyes, “So gallant.”

Jin smirked, “Only to proper ladies.”

LE narrowed her eyes, “Out! You’re being so annoying!” 

She started to shove him out of the door.

Jin laughed, “No need to be so pushy, my dear. I’ll take my leave. Make sure you save a dance for me.” He blew her a kiss which made her expression sour.

“In your dreams.” LE retorted but you could tell she was amused.

“How did you know?” Jin shot back with a grin, “See you later, Y/N.” And he left the room. 

You giggled.

“What’s so funny?”, LE said.

“How long are you going to be like that?” You asked LE.

“Like what?”

“You guys obviously like each other! Why don’t you go out?”

“He doesn’t like me, he’s just teasing me.” she protested and you rolled your eyes.

“LE, it’s plain to see he loves you.” your mom said, “and I just met you two.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You said, “so you should really do something about it soon. Jin isn’t going to wait forever.”

“Maybe I should have that dance with him.” LE said and you smiled.

“That’ll be a start.”

And LE had a thoughtful look for the rest of the time she helped you get ready. 

It was when they helped you into your wedding dress that your mom burst into tears, “So this really is going to happen?”

“Yes, mom.” You said as you grabbed her hands.

“It’s just a lot to take in. This may even be the last time I see you.”

“Don’t be silly, mom.” you answered. “Of course I’ll visit you from time to time. Namjoon can travel between the realms after all.”

“Still, it’s going to be very lonely without you.”

You squeezed her hands, “I’m sorry, mom.”

“Let’s not talk about these kind of things.” Gran interrupted, “This is, after all, a happy day. Don’t ruin the moon with depressing thoughts, Brenda.”

“You’re right mother, this is happy day. It should be full of smiles, not tears.” you mother said as she wiped her tears with a laugh. 

Gran put her hand on your mom’s shoulder, “I understand, it’s a lot to take in. I remember in your wedding I cried like a baby.”

Mom laughed, “You’re right, you cried through the whole ceremony.”

“Those were happy tears.” Gran said in her defense and you laughed. You loved your mom and grandma’s relationship--it’s very nice to see them together again. 

“Don’t mind them, they’re being too emotional. That dress looks very nice on you.” LE said.

You looked at the mirror and had to agree with LE.

It was a simple, white lace dress that trailed to the floor. Its sleeves hung from your shoulders and the cut flattered your body.

“Wow, it’s amazing, thank you guys.”

“Wait, we forgot something.” Gran said and reached for yet another box.

She opened it and took out an elegant silver circlet with pearls and diamonds woven all around it. Gran placed it on top of your head gently.

“Now you’re ready.”

“Why do I need a circlet?” You asked, curious, as you touched the circlet.

“Death, I mean Namjoon, is the ruler of this kingdom. As you’re marrying him, you’re technically a ruler, Also, there’s the fact that you are Life...”

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” Your mom said.

“No, it’s perfect, very beautiful, “you interrupted, “I just never thought of it this way before, me being a ruler. I don’t even know how to rule, what if I’m horrible at it?”

“You will be great,” Gran said, “I’m sure Namjoon will help you if you run into trouble.’

“Plus, you’re such a kind and strong soul,” your mom added, “you will be amazing.”

“They’re right,” LE said, “God chose you for a reason, you’re not going to be letting anyone down.”

You bit your lip, feeling better at their reassurance. 

“Thank you. I really love you guys.” You got teary eyed as you brought them into a hug.

Your grandma noticed your tears and started to brush them away, “Aw, sweetie, we are so proud of you. Don’t doubt yourself.”

You nodded, “Thanks, Gran, I really do love him.”

They were right, this was Namjoon. He be there for you and help you if you get to any trouble.  

Your mom handed you a gorgeous bouquet of white lilies and baby breath and kissed your cheek.

“Go get him, tiger.” Gran said 

LE was right, Namjoon didn’t take his eyes off you when you entered the room. His eyes were bright, his dimples prominent, and he had the most endearing expression; you couldn’t help but smile brightly right back at him.

When you reached your future husband, he murmured in your ear, “You look breathtaking.”

“You don’t look too shabby yourself”, you teased.

You weren’t wrong, his perfectly tailored suit looked really good on him.

The ceremony started, so you had to stop talking, but that didn’t stop you guys from having a silent conversation with your eyes. You don’t think you heard most of the things the priest said.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

Your eyes snapped up to see that everyone stared at you.

You blushed and turned to the priest, “Yeah?”

He looked at you, laughter in his eyes, and repeated, “Do you, Y/N Vita, take Namjoon Mortem to be your eternally wedded husband?”

Wow, you just blanked out on one of the most important parts of the ceremony, how embarrassing. No wonder your teachers always said you had the shortest attention span.

“Of course.”

“It’s ‘I do’, dear.” Namjoon murmured gently in your ear.

“Oh! Yes, I do.”

Namjoon muttered something in the lines of “that’s what I get for marrying a 21st century girl”.

You elbowed him for that.

The priest thankfully ignored your little exchange and continued, “Do you, Namjoon Mortem, take Y/N Vita to be your eternally wedded wife?”

“I do.” his voice rang loud and clear, it reverberated all around the room.

You were just slightly jealous on how better his “I do” was. Just slightly.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

You turned to each other and your lips slowly met. You instantly forgot that you had an audience and melted into the kiss. Well, that was until you heard the cheers and catcalls in the audience (mostly from Jin and LE), then you remembered.

You quickly stepped away from Namjoon and felt your face heat up.  Namjoon was just amused at your embarrassment. You both took each other’s hand and turned around. 

Then, you took your first step as a married woman. 

A/N

We are finally at the end! Thanks for everyone who’s been with me in every step of the way and has been patient when life was hectic and I didn’t update. 

Now I can concentrate on ‘The Magician and I’ and a drabble I’ve been working on. 

[another-blog-bites-the-dust]

Eternity

Summary: Six of you go to a castle to hunt some ghosts only you get into a bit of bother and a skeptial Brian saves you.

Warnings: lots of mentions of death, swearing, suicide mentioned, slight suggestiveness, some angst, fluffy ending (?😏?), technically breaking and entering which is apparently against the law but you never fuckin saw people/dogs like scooby doo and the gang getting into trouble for that sort of stuff did you now...

A/N: This is actually creeped me out a little because I wrote it in the dark so that was A+ logic. Also Joe/John gives me v strong Shane Madej from Buzzfeed Unsolved vibes idk why but you're gonna see that in this fic. Enjoy! 💖

Brian shut his eyes and let out a sigh "You cannot be serious." He said looking at all the electrical equipment on the table in front of him. "You and Rog actually believe in this rubbish enough to buy all this stuff and this board thing?!" He said, holding up the board that had letters on it.

"It's not just any board Brian- it's a Ouija board! You use it to communicate to the dead!" You grinned. "And Roger isn't the only one who believes in it! John, Freddie and Mary and coming along with us this time! C'mon! Come with us!" You shook him slightly. When Brian first met you- aside from being absolutely amazed by you and your beauty- he had no idea what you and your best friend Roger would have in common- the two of you were complete opposites. What you did have in common shocked Brian- mainly because he thought it was ridiculous.

Ghost hunting.

You had been friends with Roger since he moved to Cornwall. The pair of you first had a paranormal experience while in the school library. The school was used as a hospital during the wars and people did die in it. The pair of you were discussing something when you both saw a chair being dragged, but no one had their hand on it. After the moment of sheer fear, the pair of you were in awe and since that day you had learned all you could about the paranormal from books and newspapers. The two of you went into the spookiest of places to try and find anything paranormal.

"Would it make you happy if I went on this absurd trip to the supposedly haunted graveyard and church in the middle of the night?" Brian asked, leaning back on the sofa and crossing his arms with a small smile on his face. You sat on his lap and he wrapped his arms around your waist while yours wrapped around his neck and played with his hair while nodding with a grin on your face and batting your lashes. Brian couldn't resist you- you knew that. "Alright!" You squealed and peppered kisses on is cheeks "But I'm going to complain the whole time!"

You rolled your eyes "Well, it might just surprise you! In fact, you might even want to tag along to our visit to an abandoned castle at the end of the month!" You kissed him once, then again, then again- only the third time you did it, your lips never left Brian's and he moaned into your mouth.

"I can think of something we can do just now in the dark..." he murmured seductively.

"Oh really...?" You playfully smiled and stood up, pulling Brian with you. The phone rang and you groaned, crashing against Brian's chest. You reached for it but Brian pulled you back, making you giggle. "Stop! Might be important!" You managed to get the phone. "Hey John!" You sat down next to the phone and your brows furrowed. "No you do not need to take a bath in holy water before we head to the graveyard," you looked up to Brian shaking your head with a smile and rolling your eyes. "It's kinda like seance, yes..." you looked up through your lashes to Brian who raised a brow. "Kinda." Brian held out his hand, silently asking you for the phone "Bri wants to talk to you!"

"Hey mate, can we talk about this tomorrow morning? Only I'm trying to get off with my gorgeous girlfriend-"

"BRIAN!" You screamed and giggled, stealing the phone back "Sorry, John! Sorry!" You laughed and tried swatting Brian's roaming hands away from your legs. "We'll see you tomorrow night! Bye!" You hung up and burst into a fit of giggles. "I swear, Brian!" You cupped his face with a huge smile "You better live up to your words!" He bit down on his lip with the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bedroom.

•••

"Got the EVP?" Roger asked and you nodded. "EMF meter?" He asked and you pulled it out from your backpack to show him. "Alright then!" He capped his hands with a grin and then rubbed them together. "Time to hunt some ghosts!"

You walked beside Mary who seemed genuinely interested in the whole experience. "What is an EVP and EMF?" She asked.

"Well, an EVP stands for 'electronic voice phenomenon' it records and interprets spirt voices. An EMF meter shows us the electric magnetic field. If something gets closer to the EMF meter, the lights light up, the closer the object- the more it lights up and beeps!" You smiled and showed her the little gauge on the piece of equipment. "We also all have our cameras to try and capture any orbs in the graveyard!" She nervously but excitedly grinned and clutched onto your arm. When you arrived at the graveyard you took a few snaps with her and John.

"Oh my god! Look!" He shone the light from his torch on the photo and showed everyone. "There's the little orb dot things!" He ecstatically squeaked.

Brian rolled his eyes with a sigh "That could be anything, John! Flies, little bugs, dust..."

You and Roger shared a glance "Brian's a skeptic..." you uttered.

"Of course he is- it's Brian." Roger retorted back with a smirk. "Let's take a couple more photos before heading inside the church." You went around the place with John and Mary who were loving the whole experience of creeping around in a graveyard in the middle of the night. Once you had taken a few snaps, you all went inside and stood at the end of the alter. You and Roger set up some of the equipment you had brought. He turned on the EVP and another recorder and then you all turned off your torches, being plummeted into darkness. The only source of light was coming from the moonlight that streamed through broken bits of window. "Okay, Freddie, do you want to ask if anyone's here?"

He widely grinned "Alright! Hello there, darlings! How are we tonight?" He called out and created a bit of an echo. You didn't get a reply. "John, do you want to say anything?" Freddie asked him.

John blinked and looked around, he could barely see a thing. "Uh...hey there demons it's me...John Richard Deacon. I'd like to know why you haven't taken me yet." You all raised a brow at him. "I think everyone's looking at me kinda funny just now so it would be good to pick me up or scratch me or slam me into the ceiling- yeah...now would be the best opportunity for that. Do try and kill me."

"John!" Roger hissed "Take this seriously!" John sniggered slightly. "Brian, why don't you ask a question or ask a spirt to do something?"

Brian didn't believe in any of it, but made the effort for you. "Okay...if anyone is here with us, let yourselves be known by knocking twice." Silence. "Y/N, I told you this-"

Knock. Knock.

You heard everyone, including Brian gasp. You gasped yourself with a huge grin on your face. Roger grabbed you and excitedly shook you. Brian went as white as a sheet. Surely there was a logical explanation behind it. "If anyone is there, could you please come closer and give us your name!" You asked and the EMF meter buzzed and two lights flashed, then three. "Do you have a name? How old are you?" You called out. More silence followed and Brian's heartbeat was returning back to normal. That was until you all clearly heard the number seven being said. You glanced to Roger and then to the EMF meter, the lights reached up to five. "What's your name?" You asked again. "Ow! Brian!" You snapped feeling him tightly squeezing your hand "That hurt!"

"What?!" He squeaked out "I didn't touch you!" He soon did touch you- clutched onto you in fact when you all thought you heard the faintest giggle float through the air. "Surely this isn't happening?" He said in a quiet voice.

"Have I summoned a demon?" John didn't actually sound all that worried about if he did summon one or not.

"No," you sighed and grabbed the newspaper clippings from your bag about the church. You shone your torch on them. "Look here! 'Girl, 7, named locally as Janet Riley...tragically passes away in church fire...'" your voice grew quieter and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. "I think it's enough for tonight, Rog." You said with a sinking heart.

"We're actually getting somewhere though, Y/N!" He said, estatically.

"Roger," Your voice was a little shaky "She's just a girl..." you whispered. Brian sighed, placing a hand on Roger's shoulder. Roger knew it was time to call it a night but this had been your first big find in years- and everyone was with the two of you to share the experience. But he understood. You all packed up your things and decided to head home- it was one think contacting the dead, but knowing it was a child always broke your heart.

"Goodbye, spirt!" Mary called out with a small smile on her face "God- that was liberating! My heart is pounding!" You smiled and linked arms with her as you all headed back to the car with everyone.

"Still a skeptic?" You asked Brian back in the car. "How can you explain what just happened?"

Brian had just about regained composure. "The mind is a funny thing, Y/N, and in places like that with stories like the ones in the newspaper- our minds and imaginations run wild! There's always reasoning and a logical explanation behind stuff like this." You disappointedly nodded, you respected and understood his point of view. "But I'll come with you to the castle at the end of the month." You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a hug, your face being engulfed by his curly hair.

"I promise you won't be disappointed!"

•••

"Gilbert castle!" You pointed to it in the distance while driving. "Rog and I have been wanting to come here for years! There's a story behind it! Tell them Roger!"

Roger turned in his seat to face everyone. "There was a man, Jack Gilbert, who lived here and was madly in love with a girl called Elise, she loved him too. His mother disapproved though and when he went off to war she told the girl a few weeks later he had died. Elise was so broken hearted- she cried every night and the mother was so annoyed by it that she locked her in the basement of the castle. She kept crying constantly and the mother left the castle for a while just to get away from the crying. When she returned just before Jack came back- there wasn't any crying. Elise had died in the basement. Jack came home and found out what happened and then he threw himself from the balcony at the very top of the stairs." They all murmured incoherently under their breaths. "His mother saw him flying through the air. She saw him do it. The grief was too much for her and she took her own life too- not in the castle however. She left and went to another family estate in Wales."

"Jesus Christ," Brian uttered and placed his head in his hand. "And we're going here because...?"

"Ghosts!" You and Roger replied at the same time.

"Don't worry Bri," you looked at him via the rearview mirror "I'm sure there will be a logical explanation to everything..." you sarcastically uttered.

"Can I summon a demon again?" John asked.

Roger glared at him "How many times do we have to tell you that you didn't summon a demon?!"

John shook his head with pursed lips "Technically we don't know if it was a demon or not because we didn't hang about for long enough to find out..." he looked out the window. "God, I wish we did." Freddie sent John a concerned glance while Roger rolled his eyes with a sigh. When you pulled up to the castle and distributed equipment to everyone, you all went inside.

It was still just as grand as the day it was abandoned- there was plenty of cobwebs and dust about but all the furniture was still in place. You all fixated your eyes on the high, broken balcony on top of the staircase, they then slowly moved down and stopped at the floor. A chilling reminder of why you were here. "Why don't we split into two groups?" You suggested "I'll go with Brian and John. Rog, you can go with Fred and Mary." They all hummed in agreement and the three of you headed upstairs while the others headed down to the basement. "Look at the art," you whispered and brushed your fingers over the dusty works in the hallway, shining your light over a piece and narrowing your eyes. "Looks like he has your hair, Bri..." you smirked and Brian walked over, letting out a snort of laughter then feeling his stomach drop when he saw the name of the person in the painting.

"Jack Gilbert..." he said in a low tone and sent you a nervous looking gaze before moving on down the hall.

You looked at another piece and John gasped right in your ear, giving you a fright. "Fucking hell, John!" You quietly snapped, clutching on to your chest. "Don't creep up on me like that!"

"That's Elise! She looks just like you, Y/N!" He said, looking between you and the painting.

You rolled your eyes "She looks nothing like me! Think you need to book yourself in for an eye test!" You chuckled. Suddenly all the lights came on and the three of you jumped at the sudden burst of brightness.

"Guys!" Roger shouted from downstairs- you could just hear him. "We found the generator! We got some light!" You turned off your torch.

"I can't believe the electricity is still working in a place like this..." you uttered and kept walking down the hall. You took out your EMF reader but didn't have a reading yet. John wandered into a room with Brian following him. You went into the one just before it. It looked like a bedroom. It was beautifully decorated- nothing looked out of place. It was as if time had stood still. Then you felt a chill down your arms.

Roger, Freddie and Mary had made it to the basement. Mary jiggled the door handle "It's locked," she sighed and folded her arms.

"That's alright," Roger cockily smirked "I have a multipurpose key- one size fits all!"

Freddie furrowed his brow. "Didn't you say that about your bits once?"

The drummer pointed at him "Not the time or the place, Freddie...but yes."

"Where's the key?" Mary asked.

Roger moved his hands up and down his torso. "You're looking at it!" Roger then body slammed against the door a couple of times, grunting. "Jesus...that's a tough door!" He did it a few more times before letting out a loud groan when the lock burst and the door opened. A gust of cool air rushed passed the three of them. "Whoa..." Roger murmured and they all rubbed their arms. "It's freezing down here!"

You turned around quickly hearing breathing and then a name being said. "Hello?" You whispered. "Is anyone there?" You asked glancing to the EMF. The lights were flashing but there wasn't any noise coming from it.

"Elise?" You stood frozen in fear when you turned and saw a tall figure standing in front of you. He almost looked like Brian with his curly hair. "My love..." the figure reached his hand out and brushed his cold, hard fingers against your jaw. You screamed as loud as you possibly could and everyone heard you, jumping on the spot at the terrifying noise. Brian turned to see if you were behind him- he thought you were...you weren't. He looked to John and they both ran to where the noise was coming from.

"Y/N?" He ran towards you just as you fell forward with open eyes- it looked like you were being pulled by thin the air. When you crashed against Brian's body, you snapped back to reality and quickly pulled back.

"Brian?!" His hands were still holding your arms while John was standing by his side watching the whole ordeal. "Wh-where is he? He was right..." you pressed your hand against Brian's chest "Right here..." Brian sighed and shook his head, he knew you were taking the piss- you were a good actor when you wanted to be. Your eyes flickered up to the door and tears began to well in them. The figure was standing by it peering around the frame- he almost looked afraid and a little jealous. "He's right behind you..." you whispered with a tear rolling down your cheek. John was too paralysed with fear to glance behind him whereas Brian was unconvinced and unimpressed with your little act.

"Stop messing about. It was scary when you screamed, I'll give you that, but now-" Brian stopped talking when he heard the floorboard creak and saw a shadow in the window. He looked at you with wide eyes.

"I told you..." you whispered. John scampered out and Brian grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the room. Your hand slipped from his grip and the door slammed shut. "Brian!!" You banged against the door. "Brian!"

"Y/N!" He tried to open it, frantically twisting and turning the doorknob with trembling fingers. "Hold on! Get back from the door!" He tried to knock it down but the door was much harder than it looked.

Roger, Freddie and Mary ran upstairs when they heard the scream. They stopped in their tracks when they noticed a figure standing by the staircase. "Y/N? Where did you find that dress!" Mary laughed at the attire. "We thought you were upstairs with the boys?" She asked before John's hollering caught their attention.

"Guys! Brian needs our help!" He shouted out and the three of them ran upstairs.

"What's the matter?" Freddie asked seeing Brian throw himself against the door.

"It's Y/N, she's locked in the room!" Roger, Freddie and Mary burst out laughing. "What the fuck is so funny?!" Brian snapped and they all abruptly stopped laughing. "She's locked in there!"

"Brian," Roger stepped forward "We've just seen Y/N downstairs barely a minute ago..." Brian stopped slamming against the door. Fear was flowing through everyone's veins. Roger ran up to the door and harshly banged his fist against it. "Y/N? It's Rog! Y/N?!" The panic and worry was evident in his voice. They all heard a loud thud- you had been knocked to the ground by a force that appeared from thin air. You grabbed onto your chest with a groan when you felt a chill run right through your soul. "Fuck!" He uttered "Let's batter this down." He and Brian managed to open the door after six attempts. When they opened the door- you were gone.

"If that wasn't Y/N downstairs...then who was it?" Mary whispered with a trembling lip.

•••

"I am not the person you think I am..." you said while releasing a breath, you were sitting in another part of the castle- it seemed to be a library and it felt like you had floated through the rooms to get there. The figure was looking at you with a fond, yet concerned, smile. "This isn't happening," you sobbed out with tears streaming down your face. The mix of scared yet amazed emotions running through you were overwhelming. "I'm not her...I'm not Elise."

"My love," Jack whispered, you could see a trickle of blood on his pale forehead as he kneeled before you and took your hands. He was frozen and felt stiff. He pulled you off the chair and pushed you forward a little. "Just look at yourself in the mirror..." you looked into the one in front of you with Jack standing behind you, a small smile appearing on your face before it fell. You felt as if you were slipping in and out of your own body. "Now we can finally be together- my mother can't stop us. The dress is there, my love. Let us be together...for the rest of eternity." He slipped his fingers between the gaps of yours- the coldness didn't faze you anymore...it almost felt natural.

"Where the fuck could she have gone, Roger?!" Brian snapped in a state of panic. He was petrified that something terrible had happened. "You know this is all your bloody fault!" He pointed accusingly at Roger.

"My fault?!" Roger pressed his hand against his chest at the incredulous statement. "No way! We are all in this shit storm together! We are all ghost hunting here!" Roger pointed at the group, his blood-drained face reddening a little as he shouted.

"Ghosts don't fucking exist!" Brian yelled. Freddie wrapped a comforting arm around him. "What the hell is happening?!" He groaned into his hands and wiped away the tears. "I just want her back. I want to know she's safe!"

John shook his head with a sigh before a flash of white at the very end of the long hallway captured his attention. "Y/N?" He whispered before realisation dawned on him that the figure he had just seen really was you wearing a wedding dress. "Oh fuck! Y/N! It's Y/N!" He yelled and everyone ran towards you.

"Y/N NO!" Mary screamed seeing you inches away from the ledge of the broken balcony that was leading to the sheer drop below. You found yourself fighting with someone else inside you as you turned around to face everyone.

"Y/N..." Brian whispered out with tears rolling down his cheeks. "Love, what are you doing?"

"Jack..." you said in a voice that wasn't yours. "He's waiting for me...down there." You said and went to move forward again.

"No! No! No!" Roger grabbed you and pulled you back. Brian and John ran down the stairs and froze on the spot seeing what looked like Brian's reflection standing across from them when in fact it was the ghost of Jack Gilbert. "Y/N stop!" Roger snapped and your arms flew all over the place. Roger stumbled back into Freddie while you fell back off the staircase balcony. Your dress made a slight whooshing sound through the air as Mary let out a blood curdling scream while the boys gasped in fear and shock- Brian never. Brian quickly reacted and managed to catch you, falling to the floor with a loud grunt as he did. Everyone ran downstairs, keeping an eye on both you and the ghostly apparition.

"Y/N!" Brian tapped your face as you lay in his lap "Y/N, wake up!" He sobbed, his taps becoming softer. "Don't...don't...do this..." he sobbed out "You don't know how much I love you." His tears fell onto your face and he brushed them away. "Wake up, love..." he whispered.

You gasped and felt your chest rise as you came to and felt the chill leave your soul. "Brian?" You whispered. He happily sobbed and scooped you up, almost squeezing the life out of you with a hug. He pulled back to with a wide smile before looking up behind you, his smile slowly falling. You followed his line of vision and saw two people standing there holding hands and lovingly smiling at each other. A tear slipped down your cheek as you softly grinned at the two of them.

Jack looked down at you sympathetically "I thought you were my Elise..." he said and glanced to the woman beside him before looking back to you. "I am terribly sorry."

"It's alright," you lowly spoke. Roger and John were standing with their jaws wide open and Mary was warily standing behind an amazed Freddie. Brian was still tightly and protectively holding you. "At least you're both together again..."

They both bowed their heads at you ever so slightly. "We thank you for reuniting us." Elise spoke in the softest of voices "And for finally setting me free," she looked to Roger who could only nod with a dry mouth, he was numb with shock and wonder. "Now we can both move on and be together...for the rest of eternity." They fondly smiled at one another before heading down the corridor arm in arm, vanishing into the darkness.

After being frozen on the spot for a few seconds- everyone ran back to the car. Brian had scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal style- which if you weren't so paralysed with shock from what just happened, you would have laughed at how ironic it was that you were wearing a wedding dress and he was carrying you like that. You all stayed silent for most of the journey back home- each of you processing what just happened in your own way. "Why did she...attach herself to you?" John quietly asked and leaned forward "Was it a demon?"

He looked to you for an answer. "Some ghosts," you emphasised with a small glare "feel they need to posses another persons body in order to continue on. Elise thought by using my body as a vessel, she could get to Jack and be with him but that wasn't the case. It was just a mistake." You thinly smiled.

"A mistake that almost cost you your life!" Brian was holding your hands and still full of worry. "I thought you died," he had tears welling in his eyes. "Please don't hunt ghosts again..."

Roger's eyes flickered to you, he knew you wouldn't pack it in over something as wild as that- in fact it only encouraged you even more to pursue looking for them. "I don't think I could ever do that, Brian." He huffed and Roger smiled. "Oh don't be like that! Can you believe what we just experienced? All of us?! We could do this all the time- together! Don't you want to find more? Don't you want to know what's out there?!" You asked with so much passion in your eyes that it almost made Brian's heart burst. He wasn't sure if it was that passion that was doing it for him or you in a wedding dress but he leaned forward and crashed his lips to yours. Roger let out a long groan at the sight- he always found it weird seeing his two best friends being all lovey-dovey. Brian pulled back and you turned to Mary and Freddie "You guys in?" The nodded with beaming smiles. "I already know your answer, Rog." You smirked and then faced John "What do you say, Deaks?"

"I say this guy is going to finally find a demon!" He pointed his two thumbs at himself and shook them while wiggling his brows with a wide grin.

"Okay..." you trailed off with a cautious smile- Mary narrowed her eyes at John and murmured something to Roger about demonic possession...and if John was showing signs. You turned to Brian again. "Well love, it's just you....you in?" You asked with a hopeful look in your eyes.

He looked at everyone else- they were now staring at him, waiting for an answer. He looked at you and smiled. "Think my days of being skeptical are behind me," he kissed you. "So are we going to a haunted house or getting married first?" He joked with a wink and you giggled. He soon became serious and intertwined his fingers with yours. "Try not to scare me like that again..."

"I'll try," you smiled and kissed him. "Now...I hate to be the one that says: 'I told you so' but...told you ghosts are real." Brian narrowed his eyes at you and playfully jabbed your sides. When you arrived back to your flat in London- everyone stayed the night. They were still in shock. Brian noticed your deep in thought look as you both lay on the bed- John was softly snorning by the foot of it on a blowup mattress. "It's funny how they looked liked us..." you whispered and turned to him. "Do you think-" you began talking but stopped yourself from continuing. Brian encouraged you to carry on. "Do you think it's a sign for us...? Like way forward in the future when we're no longer here?" You whispered with a tear rolling down your cheek.

Brian softly smiled and wiped away your tear. "I think it just goes to show that love like Jack's and Elise's...and ours," he pecked your lips and gently cupped your cheek "Will last for an eternity."

——————————

Tags- (tag list is open! Just let me know if you want to be tagged !) @rrrogah-tayluhh @rogerofmylife @phantom-fangirl-stuff @pyrotechnic789 @deacytits @mercurys-bike @thatgeekspeak @mhftrs @dannydelay @queenismylifenow @whitequeen-blackqueen @stateofloveandvedder @blondyfel @mespetitestortues

[turtle-steverogers]

Fugitives- Chap 3

THE PLOT GETS THICC

Ship: Eventual Ralbert

Warnings: Albert’s potty mouth

Albert stood and backed away from Race, “What the fuck. Who are you? Why did you come here? How did you find me?”

Race closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples, “Like I said, I have sources. Listen, I fucked up and nowhere else is safe for me right now. Your apartment is inconspicuous. No one would think to look here.”

“So your part of Prospect?” Albert asked, “Or..”

“No, I’m part of Empire,” Race said, calmly.

“Ohmygod, I’ve got a fucking beat up gang member on my couch. Prospect’s gonna find you and kill you and then probably kill me too. Why didn’t I mind my own business?” Albert rambled, feeling anxiety building in his chest rapidly.

“Calm down, please, I’ll explain,” Race insisted. Albert took a breath and sat down on the floor, still keeping distance between him and Race.

“Okay, I’m listening,” He said, “Wait, aren’t gang members supposed to like keep their shit secret?”

“Yeah, that’s why I lied to you earlier,” Race said, nonchalantly.

“What?” Albert exclaimed, “So then what about right now? Wouldn’t you still have to lie?”

“No,” Race said, “Because I know you won’t tell anyone.”

Albert narrowed his eyes skeptically, “How do you know that?”

Race smiled unsettlingly, “Because, you’re going to come with me after this.”

Albert stood up, “Oh fuck no I’m not, get out.”

Race reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a handgun, then pointed it at Albert, “Yes you are. Sit down, and I’ll explain. You’re useful.”

Albert blanched and slowly lowered himself down, sitting once more, “How the hell am I useful?”

Race lowered the gun, but kept it pointed at him, “You’re pushy and convincing.”

Albert grimaced, “I hate myself, I shoulda just given you you’re wallet and left.”

“But you didn’t,” Race said, “Which says something about your personality. You’d be great for Empire.”

Albert laughed incredulously, “What the fuck is happening.”

“Quit saying that and let me explain,” Race rolled his eyes.

“What if I don’t agree to help you?”

“You’re going to agree.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll shoot you, now please shut up.”

Albert felt a wave of nausea hit him, “Fine,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“So it’s true that I have heroin on me, but that’s not why the police were after me earlier,” Race started.

“Why were they after you then?” Albert interrupted.

“I’m explaining that. Jesus you’re really annoying, you know that?”

Albert pouted, but gestured for Race to continue, “I’m the resident graffiti artist for Empire. I do the usual graffiti shit, ya know, vandalism and all that, but graffiti is also the way we communicate discreetly with other boroughs, as well as Prospect.”

“How is that discreet? Graffiti is pretty damn obvious,” Albert pointed out.

“Exactly,” Race said, “It’s hiding in plain sight. We use pictures and symbols to reference meeting places and deal times. For the longest time, the NYPD just wrote it off as harmless graffiti, but someone tipped them off and they found out that the gangs were using it for communication. Anyway, I was leaving a message for Queens this morning over on the Queensboro Bridge and I guess the bulls saw me doing it and recognized the symbols I was using. So they started to come for me and I ran. I caught a taxi and booked it over here, but I guess they figured I’d be somewhere in Manhattan and they found me again. They tried to get me over near Washington Heights, but I dodged them and ran again. Which is where I bumped into you.”

“Right, so when and why did you get beat up? And by who?” Albert asked.

“Yeah, so a little after we parted ways, I made my way to The Lodging House-”

“-The Lodging House?” Albert asked, cocking his head.

“Yeah, it’s kinda like a hub for drug deals. Prospect and Empire used it as a trade space back when we were mutuals. But since we’ve been at war it’s been mostly abandoned, hence why I went there.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t as abandoned as you’d thought?” Albert asked, propping his chin on his hand.

Race nodded, “Yep, there were a few Prospect guys already there. I don’t know how they knew I’d show up, but they did. Queens is technically Prospect’s territory, but we’ve been trading over there for awhile.”

“Oh yeah,” Albert said, “Ain’t that the reason you’re fighting?”

“Mhm, Empire’s technically got control of The Bronx and Prospect’s got Queens, and at first, we’d had Staten Island split evenly between us.”

“What happened?”

“Well, a few months ago there was a, uh, a disagreement between Prospect’s leader and his, uh, second. His second ended up leaving and going to Empire instead. It was messy. Yeah, anyway, since then, Prospect’s been feeling pretty petty and they were like ‘fuck it, let’s break our deal with Empire and take their territory’. So to get back at them, we started selling in Queens and they don’t appreciate that.”

“Who’s their leader?”

Race scowled, “Spot Conlon. Real pain in the ass, but a damn good leader.”

Albert hummed, “What about his second? Who was he?”

An odd expression flashed across Race’s face and he averted his eyes from Albert’s, “No one.”

“Oh.”

Race fiddled with his gun idly, evidently lost in thought and Albert cleared his throat awkwardly, “So they beat you up ‘cause they knew you’d been in Queens?”

Race blinked, seemingly coming back to reality, “Hm? Oh, yeah basically. Beat the shit out of me and I was caught off guard, so my fight response wasn’t as sharp as my flight response. I managed to escape, but not before they made me lose my lunch by marking their territory with that fucking burn. Hurt like a bitch.”

“And then you came here,” Albert finished for him.

“And then I came here.”

Albert took a deep breath, processing everything Race had just told him, “Can I ask a question?”

Race shrugged, “Sure.”

“So I know you have ‘sources’ or whatever, but seriously, how’d you find where I live?” Albert asked.

Race looked down at his gun and clicked the safety on, “Easy. I went back to Jacobi’s and asked for your receipt from earlier, claiming that I wanted to know how much you had paid so I could pay you back. When Jacobi gave it to me, I saw that you’d signed your first and last name, so I took note of it and used some of my gang member magic to track you to your address.”

“That’s creepy as fuck,” Albert said, slightly horrified.

“Yeah, well, that’s the tea, sis.”

Albert scoffed, “Did you just- you know what? That is not the wildest thing you’ve said so far, so I’m not gonna question it.”

Race laughed loudly, “Good choice. Hey, DaSilva’s a cool last name, by the way. What is it? Portuguese?”

“Nah, Brazilian.”

“Really?” Race looked confused, “You don’t look Brazilian.”

“Yeah, well, my dad is, but my mom’s Irish, so I got her looks.”

“Ah,” Race nodded, “Makes sense.”

“Back to this whole gang war shit,” Albert said, finally standing from his place on the floor, “Where do I come into play in all of this?”

Race stood as well, stowing his gun back into his waistband, “Like I said, you’re pushy and weirdly convincing. You have an odd sort of charm about you.”

“Okay…” Albert eyed him wearily.

“We need you to get on Prospect’s good side.”

“Jesus Christ.”

TAG LIST:

@bencookisagod

@we-dont-sell-papes

@suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-spook

@well-the-kids-do-too

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@thatpoorguysheadisspinning

@newsies-of-nyc

@andthewoildwillknow

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing Apr 1st - Apr 7th

Another week, another roundup! Special thanks to all who submitted works, both for themselves and others. 

As a gentle reminder, we’re here to highlight any new content from the previous week. If we missed a submission, we’ll be happy to update our post or carry it over to the next week, but if we tried to include everything beyond a week, we’d never get a post finished!

Thank you so much!

--Mod Rem

Fanfiction:

A Little Piece of Gundam Wing

The archive is being ported to AO3! Check it out!

AerisEithne

The Snow Queen 

Days after the incident that nearly sparked a new war, Relena returns to the Sanc Kingdom to contemplate her future. She can’t help but wonder which path the perfect soldier will choose… and whether their destinies will continue to collide.

Pairings: 1xR

Warnings: Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop, Preventers (Gundam Wing)

 @the-indomitable-bhg, Morbidbirdy

Animus

A ghost of Heero's past takes possession of his life, relationships and his identity.

Pairings: 1x3, 2xH

Warnings: Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Post-Canon, Psychological Torture, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

@claraxbarton , @kangofu-cb

Bad Company 

"The only hell and the only paradise are the ones we build ourselves." - Unknown

Years after the wars, Preventers has decided to tackle one of the most powerful and oldest of all the Terran crime syndicates. Embedded dangerously deep in an undercover operation targeting the violent and bloodthirsty Sinaloa Cartel, Trowa Barton is pushed beyond even his flexible morals - and when his new "partner" arrives in the very unexpected and unwelcome form of Duo Maxwell, the one person he'd been trying to protect at all costs, both men must deal with the realization that preserving peace for humanity is turning into a bloodsport.

What follows is race against time to uncover the evidence they need to bring Sinaloa, and its beautiful but deadly leaders, down - all while keeping each other alive in the process

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Violence, Post-Canon, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Human Trafficking, Gang Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Moral Dilemmas

CosmicAether

Untitled GW Resistance AU 

When their communicator breaks down, Duo and Trowa must survive the night before attempting to rendezvous to their extraction point. Duo confronts Trowa about their relationship that night and vow to be more honest with each other, they need only to make it home first.

Pairings: 2x3

DarkDanc3r

April Writes Playlist Challenge 

30 days, 30 songs from a Spotify playlist. Characters and pairings will be at the start of each chapter.

Warnings: Tumblr Prompt, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fix-It of Sorts, Damnit Prowl Lives

GlassAlice

The Pictures He Drew 

Hiatus is over! Last chapter will be up in two weeks. Re-write of a fic posted to 1x2 yahoo groups I wrote forever ago and lost. Only the bare bones of this fic have anything to do with the first one. Hopefully this one is a bit better. Originally posted under name Duos_hallelujah. Simple get together fic with Duo being an artist.

Pairings: 1xR, 1x2

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Song Fic Kinda, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, these boys are messed up, they need therapy, after war, the pilots trying to live their lives, 1x2, 2x1 - Freeform, 1x2x1, 1xR non con, 1x2 end game, we're back from hiatus, boys just trying to figure shit out, relena is kind of the bad guy, Sorry Not Sorry, i'm anti relena, so expect her to be treated badly, bullied duo, attempted suicide, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, language trigger warnings, a bit dark, Angst

Lithle

Like Oxygen 

Five years after the war, Wufei seeks Duo out for one more mission. But Duo has his reasons for wanting to be left alone. As Wufei and Duo grow closer, so do Duo's memories of the war, and with them, the old scars and dangerous thought patterns that make even breathing seem difficult.

--Note: Originally published on FF.net, this is my 'Editor's Choice' edition. It's been edited and slightly rewritten for flow and cohesion.

Pairings: 2x5

Warnings: Unhealthy Relationships, Post War Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, no EW, Post-War, Post-Canon, POV Duo Maxwell, Explicit Language, Sex, Duo is Broken, Wufei is Pretty Broken Too, Gritty, Get Together

Luvsanime02

Just One Day 

Relena gets a surprise on her birthday.

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light Angst, Family Issues, Cocktail Friday

Maldoror

The Source of All Things

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Pairings: 3x4, 2x5, eventual 1x2x5

Warnings: Violence, alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Two Halves

The two kingdoms of Sanq and Lin were at war for years; a conflagration involving magic, armies and political murder. The conflict left both nations devastated and strewn with refugees. The king of Sanq finds his infant son, lost at birth, among the death and the ruin, a miracle he barely dared to hope for. But there isn’t just one boy, there are two, clinging together like two halves of a whole that cannot be separated. Decades later, the truth behind that second child’s existence will put a hole in the world, or possibly save it.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Fantasy AU, medieval setting with magic, starts with our heroes as children, Cousin Incest, sort of, eventually, being royalty this is in fact the norm and rather expected of them, Canon-Typical Violence

Margaret_Armstrong

Queen’s Rook 

Rook; definition:

1. a gregarious Eurasian crow with black plumage and a bare face, nesting in colonies in treetops.

2. a chess piece, typically with its top in the shape of a battlement, that can move in any direction along a rank or file on which it stands.

Queen's Rook; definition:

(chess) A rook on the queen’s side of the board at the start of the game.

Truly, a female bodyguard is just what the Vice Foreign Minister needs. There are dangers about.

Pairings: Canon Relationships, 3x4, 2xH, 1xR

Warnings: Violence, Women Being Awesome, brothers in arms, everyone protects Quatre except Quatre, L2 forever!, The Past Never Stays Buried

 @noelleian

The Pact 

After seducing Quatre, the other four ex-pilots brave the uncharted waters of their new abilities and learn to cope with the unintentional gifts they were given. But as always, power requires responsibility and the humbling acknowledgement of humanity's weaknesses. The struggle to stay true to themselves becomes a dangerous and terrifying endeavor as they skirt the boundary where conscience bleeds into chaos and the dark abyss of temptation.

Pairings: 1x2x3x4x5, 3x4, 1x4, 2x4, 4x5

Warnings: Smut, Porn With Plot, OT5, Fluff, Humor, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Angst, Newtypes, Possessive Behavior, Alternate Universe - Dark, Non-Graphic Violence, Alpha/Omega, Omega Verse

Green Olive

Duo's had a rough day and needs to unwind, but this time he's in the mood for some company.

Warnings: Friendship, Bromance, Underage Drinking

@noirangetrois

Cocktail Friday

This will be a collection of my Cocktail Friday snippets.

Pairings: Various

Warnings: Cocktail Friday, Alcohol

The Story of Wrong 

Duo recounts his experiences during the war in order to explain... well, why he was wrong.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Violence, Major Character Death, Duo POV, Angst, Drama, Tragedy, slight AU, Spoilers, very dark, Heero and Duo don't die, I promise, Yaoi, slowburn, Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, If those are in any way an issue for you then go ahead and skip this, Eventual Smut, VERY eventual, this is mostly canon-compliant but I've changed a couple things here and there

Outrightmight

MCU One Shot Series: After Colony 195 

"It took Bucky a split second to get his bearings. The portal had spit them out into an aircraft hanger. The make and model of the one and only small jet was unfamiliar. He would have said it was of Soviet make, but the 50-foot robot idly standing in the middle of the hanger was making him second-guess himself."

Warnings: Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Duo Maxwell, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Heero Yuy, Canon-Typical Violence, One Shot

@remsyk-blog

Souls for the Bayou 

For Trowa Barton, exploring the bayou is the ultimate adventure. Drawn to its borders since before he could walk, he spent his childhood learning its paths and uncovering its secrets.

But a chance encounter sets him on a path that spans across time, challenging everything he thought he knew, plunging him deeper into its mysteries than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Supernatural - Freeform, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Bayou, Cajun, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Mystery, Slow Burn, Technically Speaking, Young Love, Use of accents, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't want to give it all away at once, Fandom Trumps Hate, Time Jump, Suspense, Quatre is a great friend, Mentions of Children Disappearing

Shenanigans

A Collection of my shitposts from Tumblr.

Enter looking for a good time. Expect the tags to change as more installments are added

Warnings: chat fic, shitpost, Professor!Trowa, Cooking, Pinterest, Pancakes, Exercising, Tumblr Prompt, Originally Posted on Tumblr, In depth analysis of riding dick, New Year’s Eve, Jenga, Stupid Dares, Just Heero Things

ShenLong

Bound, Bonded and Betrayed 

Heero is the eldest son of the King of Colonia. His 21st birthday is approaching and as tradition dictates his betrothed is soon to arrive. However he is also bound by tradition to select his own personal slave. The events that unfold lead him down a path that not only tests his sanity but his humanity and love as well.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR, 3x4, 13x11

Warnings: sap, Angst, Bondage, Slavery, Yaoi, Lemon, Lime, Het, Violence, Fluff, AU, OOC. - Freeform

@softnocturne

P.S. I Miss You

Quatre is missing Trowa who is off on a month-long mission.

Pairings: 3x4

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

StarLove18

Believe in Yourself

Children will live what they learn. Pain is costly, until one incident sparks a new flame of hope and a promise to persevere.

Pairings: 1&2&3&4&5

Warnings: Original Character(s), Bullying, Comfort/Angst, School, Minor Violence, Loss of Parent(s), Alternate Universe, AO3 FB Challenge

Thai_tea_addict

Abyss

Duo's not in a good situation when he falls in love with the man next door, and it goes downhill from there.

Pairings: 1x2, 2x3x4

Warnings: Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-con, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Character, Abuse, Stalking, Murder, Sadism, Infidelity

Warnings: DARK – please don't read if you think any of the following subject matter could hurt you: depictions of abuse, sexual assault, stalking, murder, sadism (not the fun kind).

Whenpigsfly84

Doormat Babe

A mysterious child is left with Duo one morning. As he seeks for answers he'll have to face his past and prepare for a haunting future he'd never expected. Will he be able to reconnect with old friends or will he lose all those he loves?

Pairings: 1x2, 2&H, 1x2x5, 3x4

Warnings: Violence, Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Swearing

White_fox

Life is a Highway 

On an impulsive plan to travel from California to New York City to propose to his longtime girlfriend, Heero Yuy did not plan to pick up a hitchhiker in nowhere Texas. Faced with some setbacks and a growing attraction to his passenger, Heero goes through more challenges than he planned on facing.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR

Warnings: light slash, Fluff, Road Trips, Dubious Morality

Snippets:

@lifeaftermeteor

Duo’s Apartment

@noirangetrois

Ladies Night

@weiclown

WIP  

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

@remsyk-blog

Gundam Wing on Ao3 - Breakdown of Fanfiction stats 

 @terrablaze514

Ladies of Gundam Wing 

Secret Magic Heero Yuy 

Four Months after Mariemaia 

Fanart:

@noelleian

Zero Three Zero Four

Hipster Quatre 

@remsyk-blog

Duo Maxwell Hip Hop

 @showtime-eric

Trowa and Quatre, Sandrock and Heavyarms

 Crackposts:

@the-indomitable-bhg

BDSM 

Calendar Events:

Cocktail Friday

https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/

A new prompt every Monday!

Submissions should be posted Fridays between 3 and 5pm EST, and tagged with @gwcocktailfriday

Interview with a Creator by @remsyk-blog @interview-with-a-creator

Remsyk has created an online interview for fandom creators to fill out and then she features one each week so that everyone in the fandom can learn a bit about each other.

This week features @scacao

If you haven’t filled out her interview, go! do! now!

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Charlie Kelly

In the early ‘70s there was no such thing as mountain biking. A few people had tried putting knobbly tires on bikes and heading off-piste (most notably a man named John Finley Scott and his ‘woodsie bike’ in the early fifties) but no one had taken any notice. That is until a rag-tag gang of cyclists took to the hills of Marin County, California, armed with nothing more than pre-WW2 Schwinn cruisers. Although their explorations took them all over, the track that became famous was a particularly steep downhill fire-road called Repack (due to the fact that after just one run down it your forty year old coaster brake would need to be repacked with grease).

One of the main characters at Repack was Charlie Kelly, who as well as riding foot-out and flat-out down the track, organised and promoted the first downhill mountain bike races. He later went on to start the first mountain bike company with his room-mate Gary Fisher (the aptly titled MountainBikes) and was the man responsible for the Fat Tyre Flyer, which until 1986 was the only magazine devoted to off-road cycling escapades. Thanks to the wonders of the internet I managed to wangle an interview with him a few years back... and here it is.

Photographs taken from Charlie’s website, header photo by Larry Cragg.

First things first, how’s it going?

I have nothing to complain about. I still enjoy life and still ride bikes.

Can you explain what exactly Repack was, and how it all began?

Repack is a steep hill near Fairfax where most of our activities too place. When we decided to have a contest of downhill it was the perfect choice. Very steep and nearly 2 miles long, it was a severe test of bike and rider. A few of us went out there and held a race, thinking that we would do it once and settle all the bets forever. It didn’t work out that way. Everyone wants a shot at the title, so we held a lot more races.

Around the same time you were working as a roadie for the Sons of Champlin in San Francisco, what led you to racing old bikes down hills?

I was a cyclist at that time, a rarity in the circles I travelled in. I had been president of my bike club, Velo-Club Tamalpais, and Gary Fisher and I shared a house. We had some old bikes that we used as our “town bikes” instead of riding our Italian race bikes. There are a lot of dirt roads and trails near where we live, and eventually we took the bikes out on them. It was so much fun we took it up as a regular part of our activities. Some of the other members of the bike club had similar bikes, and so there were already a couple of dozen riders when we held our first race.

Alan Bonds, Benny Heinricks, Ross Parkerson, Jim Stern and Charlie Kelly striking a pose with their Schwinn Excelsiors. Note the custom Excelsior t-shirts printed by Alan Bonds

How many people turned up at the first race?

The record of that race is lost, although I have all the others. It was six or seven people.

How did you go about promoting the races?

It wasn’t difficult. As soon as some guys from a nearby town heard that we had held a race, they wanted to take part also. So we held another four days after the first one. I had a list of telephone numbers that I would call before a race. Eventually I had an artist make posters, but by then we had already been racing for a couple of years. The purpose of the poster was to create documentary evidence of who was doing this and when. I could see that it was getting pretty popular, so I wanted to make sure I got the credit for it. And I did.

Two flyers promoting the ‘Repack Downhill Ballooner’

How did find all those old Schwinns? Did you have to modify them or did you just ride them as you find them?

At first it was easy, because they were considered junk. The problem was that those old frames don’t last very long when they are ridden the way we used them. Every six months or so I would need another. They became much harder to find, and the price was climbing rapidly.

It wasn’t long before you and your friends were designing your own bikes, what improvements did you make?

The most basic improvement was to make it out of chrome-moly steel. The old bikes were made of cheap steel that was heavy and not nearly as strong as modern bike tubing. Cantilever brakes were not as effective in wet weather as the old drums, but they were much lighter. Most of the other components were the same as we used on converted clunkers.

Can you give us an idea of what an average run down Repack was like?

If you’re not terrified, you’re not going to win. You have to ride right up to the edge of control and not make any mistakes that cost you time. The course is not technically challenging compared to a modern course made for long-travel bikes, but to date no one has shattered the old records set on clunker bikes. I believe that the reason we were so fast on the low-tech equipment is that we had a lot of races and plenty of practice on the course.

I remember reading stories about people skidding under fire-road gates at around 40mph, is there any truth in this?

40 mph on a road bike feels pretty fast. The average speed for the record run is around 27 mph. Obviously the top speed is faster than the average speed, but 40 mph seems a little high.

Alan Bonds with a foot-out, denim-heavy slice of high-action

Joe Breeze, Tom Ritchey, Gary Fisher… a fair few fast characters raced at Repack. Now the dust has settled a bit, who was actually the fastest?

Gary holds the record, but Joe won nearly half the races. Otis Guy has the third fastest time by only a couple of seconds, and on the run where he set it, a dog ran in front of him and brought him almost to a complete stop. If not for that, I believe he would hold the record.

Did things ever get heated on the mountain or was it all just a bit of fun?

It was always fun, but there were five or six riders who were the top guys, and the only real competition was among them. Since we started the fastest riders last, when it got down to just those guys and me, the starter at the top of the hill, things got very very quiet. Each guy would be by himself, getting his “game face” on.

When you weren’t racing at Repack, where else were you riding around this time?

I was always a road rider, although my racing career was brief and unspectacular. Most of the clunker rides were not competitive, but just a group headed out on trails.

Fred Wolf on ‘Camera Corner’

If all the old pictures are anything to go by, plaid shirts, old jeans and boots seemed to be the uniform of choice, why was this?

It was the way most of us dressed anyway. I haven’t owned a necktie or a suit in a long time. If I got on the road bike, I changed into a jersey and shorts, but the whole idea of the clunker was that you just got on it.

You started the first mountain bike magazine, The Fat Tyre Flyer, in 1980. What led you to start a magazine?

It was an accident. We thought about forming a mountain bike club, so a few of us held a meeting. At the meeting my girlfriend (Denise Caramagno) and I volunteered to do the club newsletter. The club never had another meeting, but once we published the cheaply printed newsletter, people begged us to keep publishing it. So we did. Eventually I actually learned how to publish a magazine.

In an article you wrote in 1979 you said, “The sport that is going on here may never catch on with the American public.” Were you surprised when it did?

I’m still surprised. How could anyone have predicted that a goofy hobby that most people laughed at would take over the world?

Do you still ride mountain bikes now?

Sure do, and they are much nicer than the ones I started on. Gary Fisher has made sure that I ride quality equipment, currently a pair of Gary Fisher 29ers.

Nowadays you work as a piano mover. Can you divulge any tricks of the trade?

I figured most of it out by doing it. There are certain qualities that are vital, in addition to being reasonably strong. Size matters. A 200 pound guy can do more than a very strong 150 pound guy. (Unfortunately, size also matters in bike racing, but in the other direction, which explains my undistinguished bike racing career.)

My aptitude for “spatial relations” always tested very high. I can visualize three-dimensional concepts, but I’m pretty sure all piano movers are like that. Being smart is as important as being strong, and you need both qualities. No two situations are identical, but with years of experience you can usually find a comparison to something you did before, which shortens the process of deciding how to approach a job.

Anything else you’d like to say?

Buy my book, entitled “Fat Tire Flyer.” Maybe we’ll do an English version and spell it properly, “Fat Tyre Flyer.”

Charlie's book is available now.

For more information on mountain bikes and piano moving, do yourself a favour and take a look at Charlie’s amazing website.

[scfrankles]

Thank you to @educatedinyellow for tagging me! How many fics have you written? On AO3 there are 149 listed. On DA, which is mainly original fics… er, 580. That does give rather a false impression though - about 100 are six word stories of varying quality, many of my ACD Holmes 60 word stories are crossposted there singly, and my 60 ACD Holmes clerihews are there too. There’s some other pieces that overlap with what’s on AO3, there’s poetry as well and a bit of non-fiction stuff. And of course on both sites I specialise in microfiction which doesn’t take long to write. Where do you share your writing? On AO3, LJ, DW and DA. What is your pseud? SCFrankles/scfrankles everywhere. Though I do also use maiden_aunt as a secondary pseud on AO3 for my Dear Ladies fanfics. Simply because I fancied having another name. Where/when do you usually write? I usually write at home, in the dining room (because it’s got a table) or sitting up in bed. And I suppose I do generally write in the evening after work. I am at my best in the morning and early afternoon though. I find it hard to concentrate and come up with ideas when I’m tired. I write best on my days-off, when I’ve had a good night’s sleep and I know I’ve got the whole day ahead of me. In terms of planning stories I often do that while walking or having a lie down. What is your favorite fanfic that you’ve read? I’ve rather fallen out of love with reading Sherlock fanfics but back when I was reading a great many of them, my favourite hands down was What to do When Your Flatmate is Homicidal by hyacinth_sky747. It is can’t-catch-your-breath-please-make-it-stop funny (there is a bit with John doped up on painkillers and writing a blog entry that I shall forever remember fondly - I’m laughing just thinking about it). But it also addresses the unpleasant and sad aspects of the world without any abrupt changes in tone. And it’s a story always full of hope and love. I’d love to be able to write like that. I do sometimes talk about ‘humorous stories’ and ‘serious stories’ as though it’s impossible to combine the two aspects but the best comedy always has a serious aspect too. Not that I make a habit of it, but the first time I ever stood up in front of a group of people and made them laugh was at my elder brother’s funeral. My fics tend to ignore real life altogether and be silly but I would love to write stuff that stares life in the face and makes you laugh anyway. Another fic I’d like to mention is the ACD Holmes fic Literary Shortcomings by rachelindeed - and not just because Rachel was the one who tagged me. Rachel wrote this as part of the summer 2015 round of ACD Holmesfest, with me as the recipient. It’s a beautiful, beautiful fic and I still love it. But I’ve chosen it here because I think it illustrates so well the possibilities of amateur writing, and the creativity in fandom. I can’t see there being much of a market for a story written in this particular microfiction form - it’s too left-field. I couldn’t see anyone ever writing something like this in the hope of selling it or a publisher ever commissioning someone to write something like this. Rachel wrote it for, I assume, her own artistic satisfaction and in the hope of pleasing me, the recipient, and the others taking part in the fest. Beautiful and experimental things that perhaps the professional world would ignore get to exist and flourish in the amateur world. What is your fave fic that you’ve written? Nothing really stands out as my favourite overall. I am quite proud of my longer Dear Ladies fics, my Without a Clue and Whitehead Holmes fics, and my collections of ACD Holmes 60s. And of course there is Watson’s Diary and my infamous ACD Holmes/My Fair Lady fusion… What inspired you to start writing fanfic? Er, it’s kind of a long story… I was a fannish kind of kid but I had absolutely no connection with fandom in any sense growing up - no fanzines or anything like that. And I came relatively late to using the internet - I first used it in 1999 when I was about 30. I absolutely loved it and from then I went online as much as I could, using computers at local libraries, but still no involvement with anything fandom related. And to be honest I had rather a skewed idea about what fanfiction was all about, as outsiders tend to do. In 2010 I joined DeviantArt. A couple of years later, we finally had a computer at home, series 2 of Sherlock had aired and I had just rewatched the series on DVD. And I felt the urge for more. I was looking forward to series 3 (hollow laughter) but it was a long way off, so I decided to investigate the Sherlock fanart and fanfics on DA. And I found a few perfectly nice and competent fics, and a fic that was off the scale badly-written but still oddly readable. And then I found Harry Knows Best by hbomb90. And I was blown away by it. Here was a writer writing prose at a professional level. At that point she was the best writer I’d come across on DA (it took me another couple of years to find the talented original fic writers there). And I wondered if she had other fics elsewhere on the internet. I Googled her name which took me to a rec list on LJ. So I did find more fics of hers but of course it led me to other Sherlock fics and other writers too. And those fics led me to other fics. I wasn’t paying too much attention at first to sites but  LJ and AO3 came up more and more. I did spend an awful lot of time on AO3 waiting for ivyblossom’s The Quiet Man to update so that encouraged me to explore the site. Like all kinds of fiction, with fanfiction you get all levels of writers. There are beginners, the competent, the experienced and the just plain talented. But I was just amazed by how many extraordinary stories there were online, written for fun and absolutely free to read. This was entirely out of my sphere of experience up to then. Good literature came in a book that you had to buy or borrow from a library. You became a writer only when a publisher graciously bestowed that title upon you. ‘Amateur work’ meant poorly written work. It was utterly amazing to me the quality of some of the work I was being presented with. And that you could talk to these talented writers! It wasn’t always a one way relationship. It changed my worldview - it really did. Essentially I thought, crikey, I want to be in that gang. Fandom was full of such creativity and, paradoxically, originality. But on a more minor note I also wanted to try new forms of microfiction and was very taken with 221Bs. Then I met someone on DA who was writing ACD Holmes 60s. I started writing them on DA on my own but was eventually brave and joined sherlock60 on LJ. And that was my proper entry into fandom - I found my niche in the ACD world. I think perhaps most of my Sherlock fics have a generic feel to them - I was essentially just reworking what I’d read. But I think writing ACD fics I found my own style a bit more. Though - I’ve said it before - I think I’m a good writer but I don’t think I’m a particularly good fanfic writer. Because although I enjoy discussing the source material that doesn’t really translate into the urge to write fiction about my thoughts. I think fanfiction is essentially about making closer examinations of the internal workings of the characters. I like writing stories in which people slide corpses down staircases on tea trays. What is your favorite trope to read? According to AO3, it’s ‘first time’. Which doesn’t surprise me. Though ‘angst’ is then joint second with ‘humor’, which really, really does. What is your fave trope to write? Not really a trope, but humour. What is the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever read/heard/would like to share? This is a difficult one to answer. Maybe adding on to the excellent advice I’ve read as part of other people’s answers - try not to compare your writing to others’ too much. I sometimes think someone is funnier than me, someone’s writing is lovelier, someone’s writing is better technically, someone’s writing is more insightful. And it’s generally true. But as a reader on AO3, I have 8 pages of subscriptions. Readers don’t just pick the top three best writers to read for the rest of their lives and ignore all the others. I read the work of many different writers because I enjoy them in many different ways. As a writer I try and remember to take pleasure in what makes my work mine. What is your favorite feedback you’ve received as an author? I had my answer ready even before I was tagged! On The Case of the Deceased Marmalade Thief, bubblesbythebeach commented: If a fic was ever going to be described as "shenanigans", this is the one and I for one am delighted Me too, kid. Me too… Anyone who sees this and wants to have a go, consider yourself tagged!

[mygangtome]

who were they then, who are they now: richard armitage

My dearest, dearest tumblr user. We’ve been here before, haven’t we? I’ve tried time and again to persuade you to watch this glorious, bonkers, utterly compelling madhouse of a show, and despite my recommendations of yesteryear, you still haven’t been persuaded.

So I’m going to have to bring out the big nose guns.

HEY! ARE YOU IN ANY OF THE FOLLOWING FANDOMS: THE HOBBIT, HANNIBAL, SPOOKS, CAPTAIN AMERICA?

DOES THIS FACE LOOK GOOD TO YOU?

pictured here: god he’s so dashing i hate him so muuhuhuhuch

Ladies, gents, and nonbinary friends, I present to you Richard Crispin Armitage. If you don’t know who he is, you probably haven’t been on Tumblr before.

who he was before?

pictured here: he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity

Back in the hazy, long-gone days of 2006, Richard Armitage already had a more substantial following than a lot of the Robin Hood cast. He’d been around a bit in stage and the small screen; he joined a circus in Budapest, played Macavity in Cats, stood by the side of a pool as eye candy in Cold Feet, gave a career-defining performance as Smug Man At Party in This Year’s Love, and even turned up as an extra in Star Wars.

pictured here: DIDN’T KNOW THAT, DID YOU, EH?

The sudden explosion of Richard into the public consciousness is primarily due to the BBC’s North and South in 2004, in which he played a brooding Northerner who primarily wears black and holds a position of power.

Then he got cast as Guy of Gisborne, a brooding Midlander who solely wears black and holds a position of power.

Typecasting? What’s that?

who was he then?

I’ve talked extensively for previous My Gang To Me days about Guy’s character, and his excellently melodramatic interactions with other characters on the show. He’s the big baddie in a show which needs one; the sneering, scowling foil to Robin’s optimistic heroism. But he’s also generous to a fault, obsessively loving, and full of thwarted ambitions. No other character divides the fandom more - is he a misunderstood good guy or an overindulged crybaby? Are he and Marion meant to be or an abusive relationship? Does he deserve a redemption arc? I DON’T KNOW, I’M NOT THE BOSS OF ROBIN HOOD, STOP ASKING ME ALL THESE QUESTIONS.

pictured here: there’s no such thing as too much eyeliner

Two years ago, I wrote the following about Guy, and it holds true:

More often than not we end our hijinks with an exasperated shout of “GISSSSBORRRRRRNE!” echoing through the castle and a shot of Guy slinking off to explain how he got foiled this week… Despite being a handsome devil, he is so deliciously dislikeable in a proper, old-school, tying-people-to-the-railroad tracks kind of way. And I’ll be honest, it’s worth watching the show just for a demonstration of how Armitage is able to smoulder with all parts of his body up to and including his back.

Where the Sheriff revels in his own villainy, Guy never thinks of himself as anything but The Hero Of This Story, and is all the more gloriously villainous for it. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the show is well aware of the fact that Richard looks nice without a shirt on.

pictured here: how many times can i use this screencap before it become gratuitous

Admittedly, my particular preference is for bearded-and-soulful-Armitage (more on that later on) but you know, any Armitage is good Armitage.

richard on guy

The Thing You Probably Know Already About Richard Armitage is that he is a ~method actor, which means that he takes all his roles Very Seriously. He wrote a diary for Thorin. He underwent waterboarding in order to get in character for his role as Lucas North in Spooks. He got extremely into William Blake for Dolarhyde. And, believe it or not, he also got very emotionally attached to Guy.

Today, [Richard] knocks on [series writer Dominic Minghella’s] door with a pencil and pad. Can he ask me some questions about his character? I tell him, truthfully, that I can’t believe he is here - an actor of his talent, sitting on my sofa, talking to me about playing this part. I feel so lucky. Suddenly, I stop myself - do I destroy what little (gamma-male) authority I have by being so candid? I glance at him. My concerns are unfounded. He is blushing. 

source: interview in sunday telegraph, october 2006

pictured here: richard cosplaying as 80s investment banking!au guy of gisborne

I can’t even be mad at this point. 

His own opinions on Guy are about as complicated as the fandom’s.

“I’m really hoping that when people sit and watch this, when Gisborne is trying to woo Marian they absolutely squirm in their seats and their skin is crawling. That was my main aim with this character, to make people absolutely despise him.” 

source: interview on bbc robin hood website, october 2006 

“His love for Marian is something which is beginning to unravel him and he’s becoming more human through her. It’s actually surprising him. I don’t think he quite realises what’s happening to him - he’s becoming human throughout the course of the series, I think.” 

source: interview on robin hood audiobook, “will you tolerate this?”

who did he become?

pictured here: i’ve never seen spooks so i can’t comment but OOH, DASHING

After Robin Hood, Richard officially became a Household Name when he joined the cast of Spooks as Lucas North, a series regular. Technically he started filming it whilst finishing off Robin Hood, which must have been an experience.

He stayed with Spooks for three years, becoming That Guy Off Spooks With The Face, You Know The One, and also turned his hand to a few other television and film roles over the years. 

He warmed the cockles of our collective hearts when he turned up as Dawn French’s love interest and future husband Harry Kennedy in The Vicar of Dibley. Bit of a jump for him, this one, as it’s a handsome and charming accountant, rather than a handsome and charming spy. Still, he rose to the occasion masterfully, and also got to snog Dawn French, so he won on multiple accounts.

In 2011, he turned up as the bespectacled Nazi spy Heinz Kruger in Captain America: The First Avenger. He got to have a secret submarine and run around with tommy guns. One time Chris Evans punched him in the face. It was awesome.

And then Thorin happened.

pictured here: majesty~

I will keep this brief, because if I talk too much about Thorin Oakenshield I’ll burst into tears, but it was the role that changed his life.

“I just think it’s a really amazing opportunity to take a character from a book that I was brought to as a child. My first experience on stage was in a production of The Hobbit at the Alex Theatre in Birmingham, and I played an elf.  And Gollum was a papier-mache puppet with a man offstage on a microphone. It’s been in my childhood very prominently, so to come to it as an adult,  a middle-aged man, and have another look at it is a brilliant opportunity." 

source: ‘the hobbit’ cast press conference, february 2011

Yes, that’s right, Richard Armitage is a Tolkien nerd. He wore elf ears made from cereal boxes to see the Two Towers in cinemas (he was thirty years old at the time).  And in 2012 he first graced our screens as Thorin, the proud and noble long-lost king of Erebor and a significant change of pace for a man who had developed a career as shifty, morally-dubious hired killers. 

He developed a reputation on set for being “moody and broody” (his words, not mine), due to all that method acting stuff that kept him fretting about the fate of the dwarven race when everyone else was fretting about lunch, but his performance was hailed as one of the best in the trilogy and - of course - it absolutely transformed his career.

who is he now?

Good question, and really one for Richard himself, or his doctor or his therapist or maybe a priest, but we’ll take a stab at it anyway.

After The Hobbit, Richard took a break from the massive media scrutiny and did what all British actors do when they’re scared, which is be in a play. In his case, the play was The Crucible at the Old Vic (I saw it, it was INCREDIBLE) and it earned him an Olivier nomination.

pictured here: bad timez 4 johnny p

He bounced from that into a couple of movies that you are, on the whole, unlikely to have seen - disaster movie Into The Storm, social drama Urban and the Shed Crew, bizarre fantasy Alice Through The Looking Glass…

But his most iconic role of late has been in Hannibal, as serial-killer-with-a-heart-of-gold-actually-no-wait-he-murders-people Francis Dolarhyde. He joined Hannibal for the last explosive season, and seems to have had a lot of fun killing people and wearing flower crowns and… I don’t know, I don’t go here, I’m doing my best.

pictured here: @nettlestonenell challenged me to fit at least one additional shirtless shot into this post, so here’s naked dolarhyde doing something that’s probably evil

It seems to have gone down well with the fans. And things are only looking up for our boy, who’s filming season two of his spy thriller Berlin Station as we speak. He’s based in London these days - still famously private about his private life, but happy to chat on twitter and instagram - just finished performing in his off-Broadway debut in Mike Bartlett’s Love, Love, Love, earning rave reviews, and he’s got several movies coming up.

my gang, to me!

Have I persuaded you yet that you want to get to know the man who was Guy of Gisborne? Well, you’re in luck - the boy’s been busy. You might see him on the big screen this year in Pilgrimage, or Ocean’s Eight, or Brain on Fire. He’s aging well, like a fine wine, and you only have to poke a toe into his tumblr tag to find that his ‘army’ of fans are as passionate now as they were when Guy first slithered onto our screens, eleven years ago today.

pictured here: then & now

I think he might actually be aging in reverse.

Of course, if you want to see more of Richard, there’s one surefire way to do it - and it’s the reason I made this post. Come along and join the gang in Sherwood, and get to know Guy for yourself! Buy some DVDs, or fire up a stream, and settle down with a couple of glorious episodes of the friendliest, loveliest show in television - BBC Robin Hood. 

No matter how famous he gets, to us, he’ll always be Guy. And we wouldn’t have him any other way.

Sorry, guys. We saw him first.

-

post by @interestinggin / with thanks to richardarmitage.net & richardarmitageonline.com

[justachorusgirl96]

Shower Surprise (part3)

Author’s notes: Ok, so I finally got around to watching season 12 and realized that this is not cannon at all and that I have inadvertently stolen the setup for this from @sdavid09 because I was inspired by one of her fics. I am so sorry. The cannon storyline is kind of a disappointment actually, but this is why I should stay caught up because then I actually know whats going on. Anyways, sorry this took so long; I know where I'm going with the story, it's just taking me forever to write it out. Also, I wrote it and then just forgot to post it... Please don't hate me! I'll try to be better. Love you guys, I really do!

Summary: You’re taking a shower after a bad hunt and fantasizing about a certain archangel, when it accidentally turns into a prayer, one that he answers.

Warnings: Language, slight confrontation, talk of injuries and physical violence, stuff

Word count: 1823 (I’ll try to work on making them longer)

Pairing: Reader x Lucifer

A/n: As always, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Need to get caught up? Master list

You emerged from your room a couple of hours later, hair still damp and un brushed, wearing your usual old hoodie and some pajama shorts. Your bare feet made almost no sound as you made your way down the long hall to the library. You could hear the gang before you reached them.

“You can’t be serious?”

“I’m tellin you man, new body, new virginity!”

You rounded the corner to find Dean and Gabriel engaging in a playful argument while Sam and Cas looked on. They all turned to look when you entered.

“Oh good, you’re out! Took you long enough.” Dean said with a mischievous grin. “I was just telling Gabe here that his new body comes with a new virginity. Now you’re not the only one in the bunker. The two of you could start a club!” He added with a chuckle.

Well that’s ironic... You felt a little heat rise in your cheeks and hoped no one would notice. “Yeah, not sure I’m really the ‘club’ type. I’m more the ‘suffer in silence’ kind of girl.” You offered with a nervous chuckle and an awkward glance at the elder Winchester. You felt the hair at the base of your neck prickle and shifted your gave to the source of the discomfort. Gabriel. He was staring a hole right through you. Shit, he can’t possibly know. The exchange seemed to be lost of everyone else in the room.

“Hey umm, Y/N, what happened to your injuries? You got beat up worse than the rest of us and now you seem just fine.” Sam cut in with that confused puppy dog look of his. You just had to ask didn’t you? “Gabriel’s been waiting to heal you since we got back.”

Dammit, I should have just stayed in my room. “Oh, that was nice of you Gabe, but Lucifer stopped by and took care of that already. Thanks tho-”

“What do you mean ‘Lucifer stopped by’?” Dean demanded.

“Exactly what it sounds like asshole,” you shot back.

“Oh so he just happened to stop by and decided to be nice and fix you up did he? What was he even doing here?”

“Yes, that’s pretty much exactly what happened!” You lied. “And he’s here a lot actually, you just ignore his existence unless he’s useful to you for something. He stopped by my room to inquire about a particular book from the library since I’m the only one who ever willingly talks to him. He saw that I was injured and healed me, plain and simple.” Please stop asking questions!

“Yeah, well I don’t like it. You should have waited for Gabriel to heal you.”

“We’re just worried that you might be messing with fire here. It is Lucifer after all.” Sam added.

You were indignant at that statement. “What difference does it make who healed me? It was a kind gesture and I was in serious pain. And no one bothered to let me know that Gabe was here to heal me so your argument is pretty invalid. I don’t have to justify this to you anyways; it’s already done.” You declared with a defiant glare. Damn were your brothers hard to get along with sometimes.

No one seemed to have anything to add and you fidgeted uncomfortably for a few moments before an escape plan came to mind. “I’m pretty hungry so I’m gonna head down to the kitchen. You guys want anything?” You asked as a peace offering.

Dean’s tone softened and he relaxed a bit. “Nah, we got tired of waiting for you to get out of the shower so we ate already. I left you a couple of burgers in the fridge.” 

“Awesome sauce! I”m gonna go eat that and then probably go to bed. This has been a pretty exhausting day.” As you turned to leave your eyes locked with Gabriel’s and you knew he wasn’t about to let this go. You noticed that Cas looked incredibly uncomfortable and wouldn’t meet your gaze and wondered what exactly was bothering him as well.

A few minutes later you were standing at the counter in the kitchen finishing off your cold burger when you heard footsteps coming down the hall, not just one pair, but two. Turning around you saw Castiel, uncomfortable and sullen as ever, followed closely by a very serious looking Gabriel. “Hey guys, whats up?” you asked trying to keep your voice casual and failing for the most part. Something in Gabriel’s expression was making you extremely nervous.

“Lets drop the pretenses and just be honest sweetcheeks? I know- that is, we know- that you just popped your cherry, and we know who popped it.” Gabe’s voice was flat and serious, lacking all of its usual humor. “Do you have any idea what kind of a dangerous game you’re playing?” There was no mistaking the worry in his tone.

You felt a little defensive at suddenly being called out on something so personal. “I’m not playing any kind of ‘game’. And its none of your business if I’m being intimate with anyone or who that anyone is.”

Gabe put his hands up submissively, “Hey, I’m not trying to tell you who you should and should not be intimate with; its your body, your rules. But I don’t have to like it or pretend that it doesn’t worry me.” His tone was softer and it was clear he wasn’t looking to pick a fight. “You’re my friend, my best friend in fact, and I care about you a great deal. Now I know my brother, and I know how much of a massive bag of dicks he is. I also know his feelings for you are very real and I think you’re good for him. But you need to be extremely careful; I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

This was really feeling like some sort of strange intervention. “Guys, I appreciate that you care so much about me, but really I’m fine. I can take care of myself and I really don’t think that Lucifer would hurt me.” You allowed your own tone to soften and ease some of the tension in the air.

“I agree, you can definitely take care of yourself. And I don’t think Luci would hurt you either. That’s not what I was talking about. What I meant was-”

“Nephilim are forbidden.” Castiel cut in, breaking his silence at last. “If you were to conceive accidentally, the armies of heaven would hunt you and the abomination mercilessly, and there would be nothing any of us could do to protect you.”

Castiel’s blunt explanation left an awkward cloud over the conversation. You were the first to speak. “I see. Thank you for that.. brutal analysis Castiel, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about there. I couldn’t conceive if I wanted to.” The two angles looked worried and confused so you continued. “When Dean and Sam found me, I had been taken by a vampire who was using me as a living blood bag and was planning on starting a nest with me as his first convert.” You closed your eyes and the memories flooded back to you. “He was incredibly violent and would often beat me when there was nothing else to do; which was often. Somehow during one of the beatings he damaged my uh... my womb, and now I am incapable of conceiving a child.”

Upon opening your eyes you saw that Gabriel looked completely taken aback, a look of most profound sadness in his eyes. Castiel already knew this story, but still wore a similar expression.

“Y/N, I- uh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… But still, you should be cautious. Lucifer is an Archangel and anything could happen. The nephilim offspring of a lesser angel is incredible dangerous, but might stay hidden and go unnoticed for a while, but the offspring of an Archangel would have astronomical powers and and you would have no hope of avoiding detection. I don’t want to see my best friend get hunted down by my siblings.”

You stepped forward and pulled first Castiel, then Gabriel into a warm embrace. “Thank you for looking out for me. I promise I’ll be careful. That doesn’t sound like much fun to me either.” You forced a lighthearted tone into your voice, even though you were now incredibly worried. “Just don’t tell my brothers ok?”

“Pshh,” Gabe huffed, “I may be a jerk, but I’m not that much of a jerk! And you should get some rest now. He may have healed you but you still need to recover your strength. And I’m sure your ‘extracurricular activities’ didn’t help.” He added with a wink.

“Oh whatever!” You shoved him playfully on the arm. “Actually, that’s not bad advice ‘cause I’m exhausted. I think I will just go ahead and go to bed. I’ll see y'all in the morning.” And with that you padded off down the hall to your room, leaning against the door and releasing a long sigh once you were inside. Well technically that could have been worse. 

Wasting no time, you rushed through your evening routine and soon found yourself comfortably nestled under the covers, sleep already tugging at your eyelids. A sudden rustle of wings brought you back to alertness. There he was again, Lucifer, stretched out next to you like he had been there the whole time. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my guardian angel again. Two visits in one day. What did I do to deserve that?”

“Well thats definitely the first time anyone has ever called me that.” He said with a chuckle. Lucifer paused for a while before reaching out and grasping your shoulder. “I was actually thinking that it might be better if I stayed with you more often; I’d get to see you, and it would be easier for me to keep you safe.”

“Oh, ok yeah, that sounds… umm…” What am I even supposed to say to that?

“You don’t want me around more often?” There was no mistaking the pain in his voice.

“No, no I do! I want you around as often as you like. I just also don’t want my brothers to figure out that we’re together yet. I need time to tell them properly. If you’re suddenly by my side all the time, well… I mean they’re not complete idiots; they will figure it out eventually. We just have to be smart about it; take it slow so you not just suddenly there. But,“ you paused, reaching out and grasping his face, "You can spend all the time you want in here.”

With that you pushed the angel flat on his back and rolled over on top of him. Leaning in close enough for your lips to barely brush the side of his ear you whispered, "And we can do whatever we want in here."

@sdavid09, @ravengirl94, @lucifer-in-leather