#all the wounds she got plus paralyzed in fear

[athinakori]

I was reading the house of hades today while waiting for my internet and the air conditioner to be installed at my new apartment and 👁👄👁.

[trashiewrites]

The Clueless Bachelor and Bachelorette

(Bruno Bucciarati x Reader)

An: hey everyone, I know this is very different content then CoD but I do want to extend my reaches to other fandoms! I'll still be writing CoD but I'll also reach to maybe other games and anime. I hope yal all enjoy my first published Jojo Fic.

There a lot of responsibility when being a Capo for Passione. Taking orders from the boss, controlling a specific area. The last thing Bruno expected when to deal with constant female attention.

Ahh yes, at the prime age of 20. Perfect age for once to start looking for a partner. Undoubtedly, upon the bachelor's list was his truly, Bucciarati. He really couldn't deny that he's attractive but to say he comes with perks was an understatement. If one was to look at the list it would be quite easy to see that.

Walking down the busy streets of Naples with Girno was even a chore. Next thing a group of young women will be walking down the street "Bucciarati!" To look over at a groupie and see the one that (in his opinion) wasn't very attractive waving at him. He wishes he could ignore all of it, but he has a reputation to keep.

"Girls really have been after you huh Bucciarati?" Bruno look back to the newbie, his brow frowned in the slightest hint of annoyance.

"Tell me about it Giorno... I don't know what happened but I've been getting called at by women all the time now." In the distance again, hearing his name be called. This time he wasn't even bothered to look, he just waved. "I mean at first the attention was nice but I can barely go outside without a woman trying to seduce me."

"I feel that, the curse of being pretty I guess..." Giorno shrugged, Bruno could only sigh. "Let's head back to the others, at least give you a break from outside."

"That sounds like a splendid idea."

As the two walked in the the cafe the gang usually hangs, they enter to see the three huddled. Huddled against a magazine. "Wow, they really have a lot to say about Bucciarati!" Narancia moved his head closer to the book.

"Hey watch it! I'm trying to read too!" Mista pushed Narancia's head away.

"What are you all reading?"

"Oh hey, boss?" Mista closes the magazine and pulls it behind him.

"Mista! What the hell! I was reading it!" Narancia pulled on Mista's arm, getting up and personal.

"Like hell you are! You probably can barely read dumbass!" Abbacchio sighed as the two were two seconds away to pulling out the stands.

"To answer you Bucciarati, they're reading that new Local Bachelors and Bachelorette magazine."

"And I'm in it?" Bruno whispered to himself, "hand it over you two!" Mista seemed hesitant, it couldn't be that bad right? "Now, Mista" sticky fingers began to appear from over Bucciarati's shoulder. He shoved it into Bruno's hands and stormed off elsewhere. Bruno felt bad but was too intrigued by this magazine mystery to pursue it.

He gently flipped to the pages to reach the number 1 bachelor and "This is worse then I thought..." Giorno peered in, looking from the side. He noticed how much was written exactly. And well the pics were certainly something.

"Bucciarati, do you remember taking those photos? How did they get ahold of them?" The be frank, Bruno was busy reading the almost a thirst essay about himself to even notice the picture.

Giving the pictures a glance he was surprised he recognized them.

"I remember these..."

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

Sunlight shined softly down the busy Italian streets. Tourist and locals alike enjoying the beauty of the day. Bucciarati took a sip from his glass, "nothing better then a cold glass of wine on a day like this. " he would get the occasional hello from locals he knew as well as glances by curious tourists.

One person, in particular, came up to him. A young women, maybe around her late 20's with a camera around her neck. "Signore, if I may ask. May I take a few photos of you? I'm an artist and I often take pictures of things that inspire me!" To any human being the request would be rather offputting. Indeed it was, at least to Bruno. But a normal person would also decline the offer. Bucciarati didn't see the harm of a few photos, if anything he'd call himself quite photogenic despite his semi-cold demeanor. Plus to deprive an artist of inspiration didn't sit right with him; so he agreed.

~~~~~~~~~

"That artist lied... or she sold my pictures. Either or isn't good, but damn..." Bruno skimmed through the pages. Person after person, some of them he even knew. He stopped on one page and well maybe call it fate but it was the page of the number 1 Bachelorette. Giorno auditable gasped as the sight.

"She's very beautiful... I see why they placed so highly..." Mista and Narancia came from the other side taking peaks.

"Yo, you're right Giorno! She is really beautiful. Father owns a successful flower shop too!" Narancia's cheeks turned slightly red. Mista closed his eyes, humming to himself as if he was fantasizing about something.

"Girl has looks, money, and property. She's a guy's dream girl honestly!" Bruno slammed the magazine closed, proceeding to roll it up. Then uses Sticky Fingers to smack him to the ground. "HEY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?"

"How dare you think like that Mista. Loving someone for their 'perks'..." Bucciarati stared down upon Mista, disappointment, and guilt filling Mista's soul.

Bruno just took the magazine and left. He needed time to make sense of all of it... "geeze Mista... nice to know who you really are!" Giorno snickered as he took a seat at a near by table.

"Guys, I wasn't talking of myself!!! Come on, I would never!"

~~~~~

Bruno wondered the town, just processing it all. All this attention wasn't out of the kindness of people's hearts. It was some lousy list that said he had perks... To now have to wonder if he was being used was a terrifying thought.

"Please, let me go... I don't want this at all!" Bruno was returning to reality. Overhearing 2 people talking in the alleyways.

"Oh come on beautiful, I've got a lot to offer!"

"I'm sure you do, but I am not wanting a relationship! Please for away! I don't even know you!" Her hands try to wiggle free but she was what Bruno could assume was pinned.

"Look missy, think about your answer real carefully. If you don't date me ill-"

"You'll what?" Bruno stood firmly at the alley entrance. The man turned to see him, catching a glimpse of the girl as well. (H/c) hair laced with small flowers, (s/t) skin, as well of (e/c) eyes.

"Its none of your business buddy! So how about you leave me and my girlfriend alone!" Bruno continued to walk closer, his expression as blank as he could manage. "H-Hey! I said stay back!"

"You know I find it amusing when scum like you exist in this world. The least you can do is accept the girl has no feelings for you."

"Like you know shit pal!"

"I heard it all, the entire conversation. As well, the fear upon her face right now speaks wonders." Bruno's steps were heavy, each one making a distinct clack.

"I said stay back you bastard!!" He dragged the poor girl by the hair restraining her arms. Sliding a knife from his own pocket, placing it above her throat.

"Sticky Fingers!" The girl closed her eyes as the blue figure hit the man square in the face. Knocking him down the alley. The guy cowards back, confused beyond belief "next time don't try to force yourself upon a harmless girl. Or do I need to beat the lesson into you?"

"No! No no no! I'm sorry I'm sorry! Please spare me!!"

"Then run." The man ran off in a rush, terror riddled his face as the bruises started to solidify. The screams echoed as he ran into the darkness. Bruno turned back the the girl, she stood against the wall paralyzed from fear. "Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" She shook her head. Taking a good look the most harm was some scratches and maybe a few bruises, nothing life-threatening. Bruno tilted his head, she looked familiar.

"Uh.. mister, thank you for your help. I was really scared that guy was gonna hurt me." She clutched to her basket filled with different flowers. She picked out a small white lily from the batch, extending it to him. "Men back and forth have been cat-calling me all day. It's quite overwhelming." Her smile showed a sparkle of pure innocence. Bruno clutched his first, glancing at the magazine he held. It struck him, it was her, the flower shop's daughter.

"I believe I can show you why this is happening. Come with me and we can tend your wounds as well." The girl looked up in admiration. A shy smile as well as heated cheeks. She took his hand as a quiet acceptance. "Pardon my manners, I'm Bruno Bucciarati. It's my pleasure miss?"

"(L/n), (y/n) (l/n). I owe you my life, Signore."

AN: I might make a part 2... not sure

[stayndays]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏 : Leaving Isn’t an Option

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! This chapter includes: 

(Pretty Heavy) Gore (ngl i went pretty hard with the descriptions)

Blood

Murder

A Knife

A Corpse

Foul Language

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : “You came here to assist your boss at a party he’s invited to, not to solve a murder with a group of strangers you’ve just met. Yet here you are, staring at the dead mansion owner who hosted the party in the first place, surrounded by nine men with high statuses in society: and one of them is a murderer. The question is who? And can you solve the mystery without being killed yourself?”

Visit the masterlist first before proceeding. It has all the info you need to read this series.

You let out a pierced scream at the sight below your feet.

The mansion owner, and host of this glamorous party, is on the floor. Arms spread. Eyes closed.

A slit on his throat and his stomach oozing out blood.

His pale skinned body on the floor of the living room is a sight to behold.

The necktie that was once tightly wrapped around his neck now lingers along his chest, showing off the large cut across the entirety of his neck. Hair disheveled and clothes tossed around, you couldn’t bear to imagine what his last thoughts were as he was practically sliced and diced. You cringed as his stained shirt revealed the huge slices through his skin, trickling blood onto the floor by the second. Then you realize the knife, looking tremendously similar to your kitchen knife, that performed the action was still impaled into the body, making you squirm and gasp with a shiver.

There’s no way this was just an accident.

Your ears detect clacking against the sleek wooden planks, and the fabrics of ball gowns flowing across the floor. They, like you, also shriek in horror. A few men curse in surprise. A handful shout, frightened. Your vision grows cloudy and you almost feel like you’re about to faint, until a figure calmly approaches the party host.

One of the party guests, who happens to be one of the few you conversed with thoroughly at the party despite your status and goes by the name of Felix, slowly walks over to the body as if he has a limp. He kneels down on the opposite side of the wounded stomach, legs trembling slightly, and gently presses his thumb onto the vain of the body’s wrist.

Felix waits for a few seconds before turning towards the crowd. He scans the faces of the guests: some sobbing, some showing no remorse at all. Felix clears his throat before saying two words.

“No pulse.”

The mansion owner is dead.

The man to the right of you, who you remember goes by the name of Jeongin, starts quivering out of control, jaw shivering as if he were freezing. You turn towards him and share a sympathetic look, rubbing his back up and down with your hand. You notice the tears in his eyes before perking up at a sudden scream in the crowd.

You look behind you and see a woman in a rose gold attire, tears quickly running down her cheeks and ruining her glamorous makeup. 

“This- This isn’t good. This can’t- I can’t, no.. No!” Panic overtakes her voice, her jaw shaking in denial and utter fear. She scurries to bunch up her dress in her hands and bolts out the front door, as an older gentleman, undoubtedly her plus one to the lavish event, rushes to follow her.

Then you see more heads running past you, like a flock of sheep being chased by the shepherd’s loyal companion. The living room going from mumbled panic to incoherent shouting, echoing throughout the entirety of the mansion. Bodies slamming against your shoulders as you stare in disbelief at the evening light, leaving a path of orange and red colors down the floor. You recognize the hairdos of a group of actresses, who seemed to have sobered up from all the champagne and wine they drank this evening. The clean cut appearances of high class businessmen, with a fortune more than you could ever even possibly dream of, who you saw attempting to strike up a deal with the mansion owner. One of them, you realize, happens to be your boss, almost pathetically dashes through the front door. 

It’s mayhem in the mansion, as the celebrities you admire and the CEOs you fear suddenly become cowards when faced with the horror of death, going into flight mode instead of fight.

You decide to fly as well.

Your legs finally decide to function once again, after getting over their paralyzed state when your eyes drifted towards the corpse on the maroon carpet. You turn back for a split second, not to see the body but to gather information on who’s left in the mansion, and turn back around. Seven- or was it eight? Men, some looking like this isn’t the first dead body they’ve seen, and the rest are still either in a state of shock or grief.

You could see the light. The evening glow of the sunset, painting yellows and oranges and faint red and purple into the sky, as the wispy clouds gracefully float across. The door is about to close at any second, you notice that you’re the last one that will exit the building. Extending a hand out to ensure your escape, you were ready to finally breathe in some fresh air, and not one of overpriced perfume and cologne. 

That is, until a gentle, yet firm grip on your wrist stops you from progressing any further, preventing you from achieving freedom.

“Please don’t go.”

You whip your head around, startled at the sudden physical contact. You meet eyes with Bang Chan, who you conversed with once or twice before you discovered the body now etched permanently into your mind. “Please, you could help. Since you were the one who first saw the body, you could tell me what fully occurred. You don’t even have to stay the entire time! I’ll let you leave if you’d like.” 

His hushed, reassuring voice makes you feel like you’re being serenaded by a siren. You swear your eyes turn cloudy as you stare at him. Suddenly, leaving the mansion didn’t seem like your top priority at the moment. Suddenly, you could only faintly hear the front door closing behind you and Chan’s arm brushing against yours.

And then you realized. Oh, Chan is an attorney. Of course he wants you to stay.

“Just hear me out for a second,” Chan persuades you with a hint of desperation in his voice. You could only nod timidly, mouth slightly open, as he places his hand on your back and guides you back to the living room.

“What a bunch of cowards! Big names who can’t handle events like these, who don’t want to get involved for the sake of their status.” The voice comes from the man with a slick, black velvet coat around his shoulders, slumped forward on the leather chair, his feet pointing towards the corpse. His loud volume that pounds against your eardrums is enough to snap you out of your daze. You don’t recall speaking to the man at the party, but you remember your boss calling him Changbin.

Were you foolish for staying? Should you have gone with the others out the front door? But if you leave now, you would surely get a shout from that guy.

“I’d say we just leave the body and the mystery to the professionals themselves, actually,” A young man speaks up. You recall talking to him a couple of times during the event, introducing himself as Seungmin before you got pulled away once again by your demanding boss.

“Then why are you here?” Changbin fires back at the boy, who’s voice starts to stuttering at the sudden question.

“Uh- Listen- I’m-”

Chan is the one who speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Although I’d love for you all to have a choice on whether you can stay or not, I unfortunately have to keep you all here-” 

Hyunjin, who you recall as the one with long, blond hair and a poor way of handling alcohol, suddenly jumps up from the leather couch he was slouching on. “Are you out of your mind?! I wasn’t able to leave in time because I was confused on what was happening, and now you want all of us to stay in this mansion with a dead body?”

Chan’s shoulders slouches at Hyunjin’s reasoning, taking in a deep breath before calmly explaining, “Look, I understand, you would like to get out of here as soon as possible. However, I interrogate criminal suspects at my day job,” Hyunjin visibly gulps when Chan mentions what he does for a living. “and I would appreciate if I could interview each and every one of you. Especially you, Y/N, since you were the first one who found the body.”

Suddenly, at the attention in the room shifts from Chan to you. Feeling intimidated by the sixteen pairs of eyes staring directly at you, you simply choose to just nod.

“You’re sure you’ll let us out though?” Somebody else blurts out in retaliation, and you turn your head to one of the talkative guests of the party, Han Jisung, with his swept back brown hair and suspenders under his coat. “You’re sure, positively sure, that when you closed that front door, you didn’t lock us in here?” Jisung points at the grand, gray door, with black stained glass in the center, raising an eyebrow at Chan. The door has a key lock, along with a handle. You could barely see what’s outside of the house through the glass.

Felix audibly sighs at Jisung’s what-if question, rising from his seat to check the front door. He extends his arm out to reach the door handle. “I’m sure Chan wouldn’t do such a thing-”

He turns the handle. It’s jammed.

The door doesn’t open.

“The fuck-” Felix continues attempting to open the front door. He shakes the doorknob vigorously before slowing down, attempting to open it one last time before letting his hand fall down back to his side.

Chan is stunned, walking over to where Felix is to check himself whether the door was truly unlocked or not. His try also has no success, deepening the furrow on his brows.

“So you did do something, Chan!” The man with the trench coat, Lee Minho, exclaims, both in fury and in astonishment. “Where’s that key to open the door, huh?”

By the time Minho is done with his shouting, the rest of you have gathered at the front of the door, almost surrounding Chan who’s trapped against the front door.

“Listen! I didn’t do anything. I didn’t realize that when the door would close, we’d lock ourselves in here. Does- Can anybody check if the key to the front door is still on the host’s body?” 

Minho lets out a groan of frustration, running his hands through his hair before while strolling on over to the body laying dead in the center of the living room. He kneels down onto the floor, carefully avoiding the bloody part of the carpet, and starts checking the corpse’s clothes.

“Although I operate on patients while they’re unconscious, “ Minho claims, digging through each individual pocket of the mansion owner’s coat. “This- God, why are there so many pockets- is a little bit stranger because he isn’t breathing. At all.” He searches around a little bit more, checking each and every nook and cranny he could find hidden, but has no luck in finding the key.

Shaking his head, he slowly stands back up, cleaning the palm of his hands on the front of his dress jeans and approaches the group once again. “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Minho casually shrugs nonchalantly

“So we’re really stuck here? We can’t bust down the door or break open a window, nothing?” Jeongin speaks up for the first time since the majority of the party guests left the crime scene, seemingly dry from any remaining tears. “I get it if we don’t want to risk injuring ourselves to break down this door, but a window on the other hand-”

As if on cue, you flinch as the sound of glass shattering pierces your ears, and you see dirt, flower petals, and pieces of a vase fall onto the floor. The dirty, yet still in tact window in the room and Seungmin’s soil covered hand tells you that he tried throwing a flower vase to destroy the window. 

“Shit, okay, that didn’t work. That must be super durable glass, then,” Seungmin concludes, pointing at the undamaged window and throwing his hands up in the air in exaggeration. 

“That means this door must be sturdy as hell, too,” Felix curses at the realization. 

“I’ll just call the emergency hotline to pick us up and get us out of here, then,” Changbin starts walking back to the living room without any further comments. That is, before you stop him from progressing any further.

“Don’t even bother at this point. I tried using the telephone for my boss earlier at the party; it was just static on the other end,” you argue against Changbin’s suggestion. “It’s the 1900s, anyways. Do you really think the emergency responders will pick us up right away?”

Changbin scoffs at your reasoning, “Fine, I’ll give you the win for now, but now what?” 

“It’s no use guys. We’re stuck here,” Minho, who’s also related to the mansion owner, announces to the group, as if it weren’t already obvious enough.

Jeongin shivers at Minho’s words. “T-Then what do we do?”

“Then what..? THEN WHAT?! There’s a possible killer in this mansion, are you kidding me?” Han shouts aggressively at Jeongin, who flinches backwards as Chan holds Han back from gripping Jeongin’s collar.

“If they were smart enough, they would’ve left the place with the others, though!” You try to speak up, believing that the last thing the nine of you need is a conflict between each other.

“But what if they want to kill… more people?” Jeongin stutters quietly, but his words echo throughout the entire house, sending chills down everybody’s spine. Until Han had brought it up, you never thought about one of these men being a traitor in disguise, an impostor, a liar.

Minho finally speaks up, probably after turning the gears in his head for a minute or two. “Then if we don’t eliminate the killer in time, we’ll all get murdered in the end, and they’ll get away with it. Suspect interrogations take a long time to do, right? So Chan won’t have enough time to interview everybody before the murderer does something. If somebody from the party who escaped happens to call the police, they won’t arrive for hours because the mansion is so far away from the nearest station. That means…”

“We have to solve this murder ourselves,” Felix finishes his sentence with ease, coming out of the shadows.

“You’re crazy,” you can’t help opening your mouth and sputtering those words at Seungmin and Felix. You’re a secretary assistant for the chairman of an extremely successful business, not a professional detective. 

“What? Are you just gonna give up now, or actually try and help us? You’d be a real coward if you forfeit now,” Hyunjin notes harshly, almost offended by your comment.

He had a point though. If you die tonight, at least you’d die trying to do something good. You can’t leave this place anyways, even if you tried your hardest. So that leaves…

JOIN OR ESCAPE?

~

Oh, how wonderful! You made it through the first chapter. Scared yet? The fun’s just getting started. Unfortunately, my red text isn’t working. That’s makes me a little bit sad.

Fun Fact: This is the longest piece of work the author has ever written! 2.5k words, I’ll allow a small round of applause for her.

Chapter 2 is when the real fun can begin, though, as you’ll be approached with your first decision path! Are you ready, players? I hope you are.

Good luck. May the Killer King spare you today.

taglist: @desertofdessert @crscendoforsung @cotccotc @poeticallyspaghetti @skzctnightnight @dreamy-dreamies @nizhonimoon @hanniiesuckle17 @binniesbabybear @tsuki-moon @lbxgsunshine @csbverse @mangoisawesome @yunhoesss @wherevermyway @golden--rain @bubblyjisunq @kimpchi @loey-letters @pokyloky @worldtriiiip @avrea-tt

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

RANDOM REVIEW #2: ANY GIVEN SUNDAY (1999)

“This game has got to be about more than winning. You’re part of something.”  Any Given Sunday (1999), directed by Oliver Stone and featuring Jamie Foxx, Dennis Quaid, Cameron Diaz, Al Pacino, LL Cool J, James Woods, and Matthew Modine, is my favourite sports movie of all time. Of all time.

I’m not betraying my favourite sport by saying this. The Mighty Ducks is a kid’s movie. It’s okay, but it’s not a timeless classic. I don’t like the Slap Shot series, Sudden Death is fun but silly, and the Goon movies were a missed opportunity. The only truly good scene in Goon is the diner scene where Liev Schreiber tells Seann William Scott: “Don’t go trying to be a hockey player. You’ll get your heart ripped out.”

  Such is the sad circumstance of the hockey enforcer. They all want to play, not just fight. Here’s a link to a video in which the most feared fighter in the history of the NHL, Bob Probert, explains that he wanted to be “an offensive threat...like Bobby Orr,” not a fighter: https://youtu.be/4sbxejbMH4g?t=118 Heartbreaking. But not unusual.

Donald Brashear, Marty McSorley, Tie Domi, Stu “The Grim Reaper” Grimson, Frazer McLaren: they all had hockey skills. But they were told they had to fight to remain on the roster, so they fought. As Schreiber says in the film: “You know they just want you to bleed, right?”  If the players don’t bleed, they don’t get to stay on the team. So they fight, and they pay dearly for it later. Many former fighters have CTE or other head injuries that make day-to-day life difficult. The makers of Goon should have taken that scene and run with it. I was so disappointed they didn’t, especially given what happened right around the time the film came out, with the tragic suicides of Wade Belak, Derek Boogaard, and Rick Rypien, all enforcers, all dead in a single summer. So Hollywood hasn’t even made a good hockey movie, let alone a great one. Baseball has a shitload of good films, probably because the slower pace of play makes it easier to film. Moneyball has a terrific home run scene, Rookie of the Year does too. Angels in the Outfield was a big favourite of mine when I was a kid, plus all the Major League films, and Bull Durham. 

Football has two good movies: The Program (1993) and Rudy (1993).    

And football has one masterpiece. The one I am writing about today.

A young Oliver Stone trying not to die in Vietnam. ^ Now, I know Stone is laughed at these days, given his nutty conspiracy theories and shitty behaviour and the marked decline in the quality of his films (although 2012’s Savages was underrated). I know Stone is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but do you want a football movie to be subtle? Baseball, sure. It’s a game of fine distinctions, but football? Football is war. And war is about steamrolling the enemy, distinctions be damned, which is why Any Given Sunday is such an amazing sports film. I love the way it shows the dark side of football. In fact, the film is so dark that the NFL withdrew their support and cooperation, forcing Stone to create a fictitious league and team to portray what he wanted to portray.

This is not to say the movie is fresh or original. Quite the opposite. Any Given Sunday has every single sports film cliché you can think of. But precisely because it tries to stuff every single cliché into its runtime, the finished product is not a cliched mess so much as a rich tapestry, a dense cinema verite depiction of the dizzying highs and depressing lows of a professional sports team as it wins, loses, parties, and staggers its way through a difficult season.  Cliché #1: The aging quarterback playing his final year, trying to win one last championship. (Dennis Quaid) 

Sample dialog: Dennis Quaid (lying in a hospital bed severely injured): Don’t give up on me coach. Al Pacino: You’re like a son to me. I’ll never give up on you. ^ I know this sounds awful. But it’s actually fuckin’ great. Cliché #2: The arrogant upstart new player who likes hip hop and won’t respect the old regime. (Jamie Foxx) 

Cliché #3: The walking wounded veteran who could die if he gets hit one more time. Coincidentally, he needs just one more tackle to make his million-dollar bonus for the season. (Lawrence Taylor) 

Cliché #4: The female executive in a man’s world who must assert herself aggressively in order to win the grudging respect of her knuckle-dragging male colleagues (Cameron Diaz). Diaz is fantastic in the role, though she should have had more screen time, given that the main conflict in the film is very much about the new generation, as represented by her and Jamie Foxx, trying to replace the old generation, represented by Al Pacino, Dennis Quaid, Jim Brown, and Lawrence Taylor. Some people think Diaz’s character is too calculating, but here’s the thing: she’s right. Too many sports GMs shell out millions for the player an individual used to be, not the player he presently is. “I am not resigning a 39-year old QB, no matter how good he was,” she tells Pacino’s coach character, and you know what? She’s right. The Leafs’ David Clarkson signing is proof positive of the perils of signing a player based on past performance, not current capability. Diaz’s character is the living embodiment of the question: do you want to win, or do you want to be loyal? Cuz sometimes you can’t do both.

Cliché #5: The team doctor who won’t sacrifice his ethics for the good of the team (Matthew Modine).

Cliché #6: The team doctor who will sacrifice his ethics for the good of the team (James Woods) 

Cliché #7: The grizzled, thrice-divorced coach who has sacrificed everything for his football team, to the detriment of his social and familial life, who must give a stirring speech at some point in the film (Al Pacino…who goes out there and gives the all-time greatest sports movie “we must win this game” speech) 

Cliché #8: The assistant or associate coach who takes a parental interest in his players, playing the good cop to the head coach’s bad cop (former NFL star Jim Brown). 

Best quote: “Who wants to be thinking about blitzes and crossblocks when you’re holding your grandkids in your arms? That’s why I wanna coach high school. Kids don’t know nothing. They just wanna play.” 

Cliché #9: The player who can’t stop doing drugs (L.L. Cool J).

Okay, so the first thing that needs to be talked about is Al Pacino’s legendary locker room speech.  Now, it’s the coach’s job to rile up and inspire the players. But eloquence alone won’t do it. If you use certain big words, you lose them (remember Brian Burke being endlessly mocked by the Toronto media for using the word “truculent?”). The coach must deliver the message in a language the players understand, while still making victory sound lofty and aspirational. This is not an easy thing to accomplish. One of my favourite inspirational lines was spoken by “Iron” Mike Keenan to the New York Rangers before Game 7 against the Vancouver Canucks in 1994. “Win tonight, and we’ll walk together forever.” Oooh that’s gorgeous. But Pacino’s speech is right up there with it. 

“You know, when you get old in life…things get taken from you. That’s parta life. But you only learn that when you start losin’ stuff. You find out…life’s this game of inches. So’s football. In either game – life or football – the margin for error is so small. I mean…one half a step too late or too early and you don’t quite make it…one half second too slow, too fast, you don’t quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team, we fight for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when we add up all those inches that’s gonna make the fuckin difference between winnin’ and losin’! Between livin’ and dyin’!” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_iKg7nutNY  Somehow, against all odds, Any Given Sunday succeeds. It is the Cinderella run of sports movies. You root for the film as you watch it. The dressing room scenes are incredible…the Black players listen to the newest hip hop while a trio of lunkhead white dudes headbang and scream “Hetfield is God.” There is a shower scene where a linebacker, tired of being teased about the size of his penis, tosses his pet alligator into the showers where it terrorizes his tormentors. There is a scene where a halfback has horrible diarrhea, but he’s hooked up to an IV so the doctor (Matthew Modine) has to follow him into the toilet cubicle, crinkling his nose as the player evacuates his bowels. There is a scene where someone loses an eye (the only scene in the film where Stone’s over-the-top approach misses the mark). There are scenes that discuss concussions (which is why the NFL refused to cooperate for the film), where Lawrence Taylor has to sign a waiver absolving the team of responsibility if he is hurt or paralyzed or killed. I wonder how purists and old school football fans reacted to the news that Oliver Stone was making a football film. If they even knew who he was (not totally unlikely…Stone made a string of jingoistic war movies in the 1980s) they probably thought the heavy hands of Oliver would ruin the film, take the poetry out of every play. But the actual football is filmed perfectly. The camera gets nice and low for the tackles. It flies the arcs of perfect spiral passes. It shows the chaos of a defensive line barreling down the field. When Al Pacino asked quarterback Dan Marino (fresh off his own Hollywood experience acting in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective) what it was like to be an NFL QB, Marino said: “Imagine standing on a highway with traffic roaring at you while trying to read Hamlet.” A great explanation. Shoulda made the movie. So the football itself is fabulously done. Much better than what Cameron Crowe did in the few football scenes in Jerry Maguire. The Program had some great football, as did Rudy, but neither come close to the heights of Any Given Sunday. In one of the film’s best scenes, Jamie Foxx insists that his white coaches have routinely placed him in situations where he was doomed to fail or prone to injury, and we believe him because white coaches have been doing that to Black players for decades. Quarterback Doug Williams, who led his Washington Redskins team to a Superbowl victory in 1987, was frequently referred to by even liberal media outlets as a “Black quarterback,” instead of just “quarterback,” as if his skin colour necessitated a qualification. Even now, in 2021, the majority of quarterbacks are white, although the gap is gradually closing. The 2020 season saw the highest number of starting Black quarterbacks, with 10 out of a possible 32.  Quarterback is the most cerebral position on the field, and for a long time there was a racist belief that Black men couldn’t do the job. Foxx’s character is a composite of many of the different Black quarterbacks who came of age in the 1990s, fighting for playing time against white QBs beloved by their fan base, fawned over in hagiographic Sports Illustrated profiles, and protected by the good ol’ boys club of team executives and coaching staff. Foxx’s character isn’t demoted because he can’t play the game. He wins several crucial games for his team en route to the playoffs. He’s demoted because he listens to hip hop in the dressing room, because he recorded a rap song and shot a video for it, and because he’s cocky. Yes, the scene where he asks out Cameron Diaz is sexist, as if her power only comes from her sexuality, not her intelligence and business acumen, but it’s meant to show how overly confident Foxx is, not that he’s a sexist prick. Any Given Sunday isn’t a single issue film. It’s basically an omni-protest piece. It gleefully shows football’s dark side, and there is no director better than Oliver Stone for muck-raking. He’s in full-on investigative journalist mode in Any Given Sunday, showing how and why players play through serious brain injuries. How because they are given opiates, often leading to debilitating addictions (this happens in all contact sports...Colorado Avalanche player Marek Svatos overdosed on heroin a few years after retiring from injuries). As to why, Stone gives two reasons. One, team doctors are paid by the team, not the players, therefore their decisions will benefit the team, not the players. And two, the players themselves are encouraged to underreport injuries and play through them because stats are incentivized. James Woods unethical doctor argues with Modine’s idealistic one because an MRI the latter called for a player to have costs the team $20k. But the player in question, Lawrence Taylor, plays anyway because his contract is stat incentivized and if he makes on more tackle he gets a million dollars. Incentivizing stats leads to players playing hurt. And although I loathe this term, a lazy go-to for film critics, Stone really does give an unflinching account of how this shit happens and why. When Williams is inevitably hurt and lying prone on the field, he woozily warns the paramedics who are placing him on a stretcher to “be careful…I’m worth a million dollars.” It’s tragic, yet you’re happy for him. The film really makes you care about these guys.  Thanks to the smartly written script, the viewer knows that Williams has four kids, and you’re pleased he made his bonus because, in all likelihood, after he retires, his injuries will prevent him from any kind of gainful employment (naturally, they give the TV analyst jobs to retired white players, unless Williams can somehow land the coveted token Black guy gig). Stone is not above fan service, a populist at heart, and he stuffs the film with former and then-current NFL players, a miraculous stunt given the fact that the NFL revoked their cooperation. Personally, I think this was a good thing because it meant Stone didn’t have to compromise (the league wanted editorial say on all issues pertaining to the league…meaning they would have cut the best storyline, which is the playing hurt one). It also meant that they had to rename the team and the league. While I’m sure this took away from the realism for some fans, I’m cool with it. It also allowed the moviemakers to name the team the Sharks, a perfect name for this roving band of predatory capitalist sports executives. In another example of fan service, the call-girl Pacino’s quintessential lonely workaholic character rents a girlfriend experience from is none other than Elizabeth Berkley of Showgirls, who had been unfairly blacklisted after the titular Verhoven/Esterhaz venture, a movie my wife showed me one day while I was dopesick, which I became so transfixed and mesmerized by that I forgot I was. As mentioned above, the only misstep in the film is one of the offshoots of the Playing Hurt arc, where a player loses an eye on the field. Not because he gets poked, but because he gets hit so hard his eye simply falls out. A medic runs onto the field and puts the white globe on ice. Stone cast a player with a glass eye in order to achieve this effect. No CGI! Still, the scene is unconvincing, a tad too over-the-top. But this is Oliver Stone. At least Any Given Sunday’s sole over-the-top moment is a throwaway scene lasting all of thirty seconds. It easily could have been a secondary plot-line in which government officials try to sneak a Cuban football prodigy out of Castro’s communist stronghold but the player is brutally murdered the morning the officials arrive at his apartment to escort him to the private plane. Or else the team GM is revealed to be a massive international cocaine dealer. Or the tight end is one half of a serial killer couple. The film follows its own advice, focusing more on the players growth, particularly Beamon’s (Foxx). The anonymity of the title, Any Given Sunday, elevates the game, not the players. Thank God, the movie doesn’t force Beamon to assimilate into Pacino’s mold. He buys into the team-first philosophy without renouncing his idiosyncratic POV or his fierce individuality. This is a triumph. One of my biggest problems with sports is the flattening effect it can have on creative individuals. Players take media training in order to sound as alike as possible during media interviews, a long row of stoic giants spouting cliches. It’s boring. Which is why media latch onto a loudmouth, even while they scold him for it. All sports are dying for an intelligent mouthpiece who can explain his motivations in a succinct, sound-bite-friendly, manner. Sports are entertainment. As much as I love Sidney Crosby, in my heart I have to go with Alexander Ovechkin because Ovechkin is far more thrilling, both on and off the ice. Unlike almost every other NHL star before him, all of whom were forced to kneel and kiss Don Cherry’s Rock Em Sock Em ring, Ovechkin defiantly told the media he simply did not care about Cherry or Cherry’s disgusting parental reaction to one of Ovie’s more creative goal celebrations (called a “celly” in the biz). On the play in question, Ovechkin scored the goal, then dropped his stick and mimed warming his hands over it, as if his stick were on fire. As cheesy as the celebration appeared to the naked eye, it’s both a funny and accurate notion. Ovechkin was the hottest scorer in the league for many years and his stick was on fire, metaphorically speaking. The only celly I can think of that matches up in terms of creativity and entertainment value came from Teemu Selanne in 1993, who scored a beauty of a goal, threw one of his gloves straight up into the air, then pumped his stick like a shotgun while “shooting” his glove. Of course, Cherry took exception to it. Cherry’s favourite goal celebration features Bobby Orr putting his head down and refraining from raising his hands over his head. Cherry’s idea of an appropriate goal celly is no celly at all. This from a man who claims “we’ve got to sell our game.” But when an arrogant player shows up and he’s not white, he’s in for a shitload of bad press. Foxx’s Beamon illustrates this beautifully when he yells at Pacino after Pacino cuts him for an older QB who has lost four games this season. “Don’t play that racism card with me,” Pacino warns. “Okay…okay…” Foxx nods, “Maybe it’s not racism. Maybe it’s ‘placism’…as in…a brother got to know his place.”

Here is the original theatrical trailer, featuring Garbage’s classic “Push It.”

Above Lawrence Taylor begs Matthew Modine for Cortazone.  There’s also a great scene where Pacino is trying to figure out where he has gone wrong and Diaz just looks at him. “You got old,” she says simply. No enterprise is more cruel to an aging human being than sports. And this movie makes football a big giant corporate machine that chews players up and spits them out, injured and drug addicted, after four or five years. Those who play for a decade are lucky. This is still how the NFL works. And the NHL is increasingly becoming a young man’s game. Experience matters less and less.

When I started watching hockey in the 90s, players regularly competed into their late 30s. Not so anymore. Players peak at 23-24 now, and are often out of the league by age 35. Thornton and Chelois are exceptions, not the rule. After more than two hours, Any Given Sunday finally lurches across the finish line, bravely refusing to give its viewers a traditional happy ending, in the great tradition of underdog sports films like Rocky and Rudy. The bombshell dropped by Pacino’s character at the end feels less surprising than inevitable, but by now the movie has explored so much of professional sports' seedy underbelly that you're glad it's over. The film is great but exhausting. Stone seems to be advancing the notion that the sport itself is pure, but the people in it are corrupt. If money weren’t involved, the game would be played for its own sake.

I agree with this. People playing pond hockey are engaging in wholesome fun, not necessarily practicing to make a professional league. Commerce corrupts the purity of the game, and the extent to which it corrupts is directly proportional to how badly the individual in question needs the commerce. Of course, the sport is highly racialized, with people in positions of authority white, and those being told what to do with their bodies Black.

Any Given Sunday is an important film, but it never sacrifices entertainment for the sake of moralizing. That it pulls off such a strong moralistic stance is a testament to the actors, who are all incredible, and the material, which is among the strongest of Stone’s career.

He never really made a great movie after this one. So check it out sometime.

[asterekmess]

S3A-E6

Oh boy, here we go, Motel California is just full of absolute bullshit. *sigh* let’s get started then.

Read More’s are good for the environment (or so i’ve heard)

Before we start, I wanna let you guys know that I’m just not gonna comment on the Jennifer/Derek scenes. I just. I really honestly cannot do it. I don’t care. No. Also as this is well, this episode, please be advised that there will be extensive suicide mentions.

Thoughts:

I know this is random as hell, but that truck looks like mine. Oh, and look at the date, it’s only like nine years older than mine. nice.

why does it look like he’s nursing an arrow wound on his leg? Is it just me? That doesn’t look like a claw mark.

Can...can I just point out (god, i already need the tag) that....that they’re drawing a DIRECT parallel between this ARGENT HUNTER and Scott with the whole “lifting up the shirt to reveal the bite on their side’ thing? Like, it’s a perfect replica of when scott does it in the first episode. And they don’t do that with the others. Jackson’s bite was just Visible when he got out of the water and we never see Isaac, and Erica’s bites. Boyd’s was a whole sitting down thing on the Zamboni with his hoodie. They didn’t even do the same thing with Victoria ARGENT’s bite. OH and he’s wearing the heirloom necklace from season 1.

Wait, hold up. So, he just got bitten that night, but he’s already gonna shift? What? The bite works that fast?

....he’s from MA? Why tf is he in california? Also, he’s 27 apparently, oof.

Finstock...honey...you ran out of keys when you have like 6 students behind you still.

why is Finstock paying for Allison and Lydia’s room as well? He’s just that nice, or did he honestly forget they aren’t on the track team?

Maybe it’s just the Sterek shipper in me talking, but someone wanna explain why the fuck Stiles would put Derek on the suspect list for HUMAN SACRIFICES? Let alone TWICE? He literally just helped Derek get his pack back and has been working with them the whole time? Why???Would??He???Suspect???DEREK??? OR his sister???

I totally forgot that Scott promised Stiles he would watch Star Wars after they got back to Beacon Hills. SCOTT YOU ASSHOLE COME ON.

yeouch. You’re putting a huge damper on my Stydia brotp here Stiles. jeez.

*Movie trailer voice* He’s a hunter whose family has been torn apart by a human/werewolf war, who refuses to give up the fight against a species his clan has persecuted for centuries. He does weird detective work that makes no sense and looks like a Dark Souls ghost repeat of someone’s death. He insists on ‘staying out of things’ but then follows people around getting mad when things go wrong. Coming this summer, Chris Argent must actually learn.....to get off his ass and help.

WHY DO THEY ALL DO THE CLAW THING??? Yes, they are obviously claw marks. Why the fuck do you need to put your fingers on it?

Honestly, it makes me so sad because STiles is trying okay? Like, Boyd was pissed that Stiles acted like his friend when they never hung out, and STiles is trying to do the chill smalltalk thing, trying to point out things they have in common. He’s trying to MAKE FRIENDS and Boyd is just....uh...possessed? And still getting candy?? Huh?

Honestly, I’d do the same thing Stiles. Get that candy.

Allison, why’d you get in the shower if Lydia wasn’t back with the towels yet? How’re you planning on getting to them? You expect Lydia to come into the bathroom while you’re showering to put one there? #allydia confirmed.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I ALWAYS FORGET THIS HAPPENED. WHAT THE FUCK?

Okay, okay, look at that adaptation we got going on here. Remember, okay, the last time Allison was harassed sexually (which, holy shit I can’t believe this has happened twice) it was by Jackson, who was possessed by Matt. So when Scott gets super fucking creepy, instead of freaking out, her FIRST instinct is to check if he’s still himself, if he’s okay. She jumps to ‘possessed’ and tries to take care of him WHILE SHE”S NAKED IN THE SHOWER AND BEING CREEPED ON. Which, while absolutely horrendously terrifying, is also an interesting character growth. We get to see how Allison responds to the same situation, but a season later.

Really not a fan of the weird-ass focus they put on this woman’s stoma ( think that’s the word) like...are you seriously trying to make that a part of the ‘horror’ aspect of this episode? For real? what is wrong with you?

So I did the research, and actually, hotels aren’t required to tell anyone about deaths in their rooms. But they also renovate the entire room basically to clean that kind of thing up. Replacing walls and anything that can absorb liquid and even electronics. Oh, the things I google for this research. *sigh*

So, she says “since opening.” So...why does it even matter that an Argent was here? ALSO...why does the wolfsbane whistle matter? Clearly the whistle wasn’t the cause of the last howevermany (apparently 40) years of deaths, so why would it be the cause of these ones?? They gave like fifty different answers to the question of why the wolves (and only the wolves) tried to kill themselves and none of them make sense?

Hey, so...what the fuck even is this possession thing going on? What is it actually doing to these wolves? Why are they getting affected at different times? or did they all get affected at the same time, and the scene with Ethan and Danny is supposed to have been happening at the same time as the bit with Scott and Stiles? Is it supposed to like, make them more impulsive, or just drive them to do what they want to do? Boyd wants some candy, and he will get some candy. Isaac wants to watch tv so he just sits there and clicks through static endlessly. Scott wants to......fuck Allison?

Honestly? Good dad moment here. Chris. Good Dad Moment. I just, feel so bad for Allison. That when it comes down to it, she will always end up lying to her family to save Scott’s ass. Either when they’re dating and her dad wants to kill him for it, or when Scott shows up in her bathroom and grabs her and she can’t possibly tell her dad about it without Scott getting shot.

WHY do they treat that moment like it’s a big shocker that Allison was there? She TOLD her dad she would be going to help them. This shouldn’t be a surprise to him???

....wait how was allison on the phone with her dad, fully dressed and outside, but now she’s in her bra and drying her hair in the bathroom? TIMELINES. TW doesn’t HAVE them.

OKay, so Lydia says it’s only been 40 years, which would mean that the motel was only 6 years old when Alexander Argent died in it. Plus...Lydia literally says that approx. 4 deaths a year is a reasonable number? So...either this place has a lot of suicides, or it doesn’t. WHich one? Also, just because you have the warning at the beginning of the episode doesn’t mean you need to go into such callous detail about the different kinds of suicides that took place. God, that’s so tasteless.

As horrific as this moment is, I feel like I should point out that the behavior/conversation that Lydia hears...it’s nothing like what happened with the wolves. They’re talking about it, clearly nervous. But the wolves are stoic and silent. What? WHAT IS THIS PLOTLINE? IS THE MOTEL causing these suicides somehow, or are the werewolves poisoned by wolfsbane?? THESE ARE TWO DIFFERENT PLOTS. WHICH ONE IS IT?

god, I just..I can’t not point out the contrast here! Lydia is saying she heard two people die in a room across the hall, and after leading Allison there they find an empty room going through renovation. All she has to say is “they were here” and Allison believes her. No hesitation. Stiles’ childhood best friend literally shows up dead and Scott refused to believe a word he said about human sacrifice until Deaton confirmed it. Yet Lydia and Allison have known each other less than a year, and Scott and Stiles are supposed to have been friends for ages.

I just...I hate fisheye lenses. they don’t give me any horror vibes at all, they just look stupid. Personal preference.

Boyd, honey, those things are supposed to have bags in them so they can be reused.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS SCENE? WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WOULD THEY EVER BRING THIS UP JUST TO KILL BOYD OFF LATER? WHY?

Lydia is actually very correct, remember what I said about the renovating?

God, this episode has so much...just horrible shit. I’m gonna fucking ignore it for my own sanity and just focus on how wolfy it is that Isaac wouldn’t want to sleep under the covers at a hotel because it would probably smell. Plus, bare feets. Also, why’d he go to bed so early? Did Boyd go get the ice for him, since he’s sweating so much?

I love that they are roommates.

Okay, I don’t understand. Three more suicides are about to happen. Boyd, Ethan, and I guesss...Scott? So what the fuck was up with Isaac? I just...they’re supposed to like. give into their their worst thoughts or something? Boyd’s guilt about his sister. Ethan’s....something. Scott’s...uh...self-hatred? Or, I think it’s more his lack of self-confidence? He doesn’t hate himself, he just doesn’t think he can keep going. And Isaac’s ingrained guilt of doing the wrong thing? His fear of being useless...I guess? So is it supposed to make them suicidal and Isaac’s a weird case, or does it only do that sometimes, and the rest of the time it just leaves you paralyzed with fear? This makes literally no sense.

Where has Stiles been this entire time?

Uh...that’s not how Alphas work? Just because Derek died, it wouldn’t make Scott an Alpha. Scott didn’t kill him. Even if Derek Was dead, it would’ve been from impact or from the wounds Ennis gave him. In no universe would Scott become an alpha. If it was the impact, Cora would become Alpha, as the next blood relation. If it was Ennis, the Hale Alpha spark would be gone/soaked up by Ennis.

Okay...so, Stiles was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and he didn’t hear Scott talking to the phone?

*snort* Stiles has a Nokia phone. How much do you wanna bet his dad bought that for him after the Pool Scene because he was trying to make sure Stiles didn’t break another phone?

Did...did Stiles just leave the room with the toothbrush in his mouth?

Okay, I get that this is a teen drama...but why does it have to be so obsessed with 16 and 17 year olds having sex? Seriously? It’s not the common occurrence people think it is? Now, if these were college age people...or, hell, even then it wouldn’t be this fucking common. Seriously. I don’t want eye-candy from someone who’s supposed to be 17 at MOST. Teenagers watching this might like the eye candy, but when I watched this at 17 I STILL was sick of the sexy scenes. Knock it off.

Also. Ethan IS STILL A FUCKING MURDERER.

.....uh....Ethan...do you not understand human anatomy? Giving Danny the bite wouldn’t remove the metal bars in his chest. It might heal the cartilage or whatever, but it wouldn’t REmove the BARS. Oh see that’s just creepy. Wait. OKay, are you telling me that Ethan’s thing that he wants, with this possession thing, is to bite Danny? AND HOW DOES DANNY NOT RESPOND TO THAT? HE’s supposed to know about werewolves, which means he HAS to be getting what Ethan’s going for. WTF?

...what the FUCk kind of voldemort “love and monsters” kinda bullshit was that? What does that have to do with Ethan’s deepest fear/insecurity?

I am...so confused. FIrst off, I love having Allison, Lydia, and Stiles all chillin’ trying to figure things out. THat’s amazing. But how do they know something’s up with Isaac? Also, it contradicts what I was theorizing before when Allison says the last time she saw Scott like that it was a full moon. Now I’m even more creeped out? WHy would they have her fully believe that it’s Scott, and just...let him be a fucking creep? Why would they openly admit that he’s been that terrifying with her before and then just...be chill about it? Also, when did she actually see Scott act like that? When he did it on his second moon Allison never saw him bc Derek tackled him into the woods. When did Scott go all creeper on her? Is this a REgular OCCUrREncE?

I know it was wasn’t intentional, but it’s such an adhd mood for Stiles to see the paper sticking out of the bible and just snatch at it. most people would call that ‘attention to detail’ but like...I just see it as ‘wtf is this, gotta know gotta know” mooood.

Why does Stiles go running to the next room like it’s an emergency, and what is the relevance of these articles in the bibles? LIke, yeah, you knew there were a ton of suicides. How does this help?? God, it’s like they were trying to make it a mini-horror film, but they just suck at understanding what the right order is to put things. FInding those articles should’ve been something that happened at the beginningin order to create a sense of unease, not in the middle of figuring things out!

how exactly did Stiles get the damn door open if it was locked? For that matter, how did Ethan know the handsaw was there? Was he on his way to talk to Lydia and Allison, or was he heading for Scott and Stiles’ room to get help? WHat’s going on???

Thank you Allison for not just Standing There. And Lydia for having a BRAIN. <3

HOW DID STILES HOLD BACK ETHAN? Ethan IS AN ALPHA? HOW?

OKay. I know I said I wouldn’t comment on these scenes with Jennifer, but this is just a general observation. DEREK. YOU HAVE A CELL PHONE. YOU ARE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF CALLING PEOPLE FROM THE BED.

What...what does that mean Ethan? “You probably shouldn’t have.” WHat?

I know it’s supposed to be for the Allison/Scott angle, but I just love Lydia and Stiles heading to save the pack. *sigh*

I gotta say, I actually really respect Stiles for straight up telling Lydia about the parallels he’s seeing. Rather than hide it from her, he’s trying to get to the root of the problem, point blank and he’s being honest with her about his worries that she might be involved without even knowing it. And she listens and doesn’t get immediately defensive. This communication is SO GOOD. Stydia BROTP.

I’m fucking on the verge of tears. Sinqua, your acting is just...like, you barely speak in this scene and yet your face is just??So pained?

Bare feets. I know I point it out a lot, but like, compared to kali, who keeps her claws out all the time even in like a fucking hospital. It’s so cute to see Boyd and Isaac wandering barefoot in their hotel room. Just, the level of calm it implies, despite the situation. They feel so safe with each other.

ALSO did Boyd go through all of that while Isaac was under the bed?

WAIT WHAT? WHy is Lydia suddenly all pissed off? WHAT? That makes no sense! But then when she says his name, she doesn’t sound upset at all?? WHAT?

ALSO, I thought this was supposed to be about suicides? Why did they add this totally random (and horrific) thing? It has nothing to do with BoYD! JUST BECAUSE YOU PUT A TRIGGER WARNING DOESN”T MEAN YOU NEED TO MUSH AS MUCH FUCKED UP SHIT AS POSSIBLE INTO ONE EPISODE. GOD. It’s like those people who assume just because they’re allowed to do R rated shit, they have to have random sex scenes in their tv show.

where did Scott get gasoline? Like...where?

God fucking damn it, how fucking demonizing can you get, fucking juxtapositioning Scott’s suicidal monologue about Derek suffering and being dead, then jumping to Derek fucking someone instead of telling anyone he’s alive? What the fuck is wrong with these people? Why is it literally ANY TIME Stiles or Derek are in some way happy (NOT that I’m considering Derek at that moment in time Happy or in any way okay) they always make it out to be the most horrible thing ever? It’s like I said before, Stiles smiling on the field because he actually gets to play lacrosse? Jackson’s about to die. Stiles happy because he’s going to play a game in class? His best friend is missing. Derek....I’m not even going to give what’s going on a name. But then they just layer that over Scott...what even is he doing? Everyone else actually tried to kill themselves. Why is he just...standing there? Are they seriously trying to make the claim that his strength of will is so strong he’s the only one could can hold out against the...whatever the fuck is causing this? Jesus fucking christ do you have to turn him into Jesus every time? SERIOUSLY?

YOU DIDN”T THOUGH. SCOTT YOU LITERALLY REFUSED TO FIGHT BACK. YOU PLANNED A RENDEVOUS WITH DEUCALION BEHIND EVERYONE’S BACK BECAUSE YOU INSISTED FIGHTING BACK WAS WRONG. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD IF DEREK AND THE OTHERS HADN”T COME TO FIND YOU.

...I get that this is supposed to be an emotional moment, but why the fuck does Scott’s monologue about how much he sucks have to drag Stiles down with him? Stiles was literally always good at lacrosse. He never got ‘better’ before being put on the field. You saying that the both of you were ‘nothing’ is a terrible, horrible thing to say because you’re implying that because Stiles didn’t get the bite like you did, the only thing that makes him more than nothing is being your friend. How does Scott manage to be a total asshole even when he’s in the middle of explaining why he wants to die?

AGAIN WITH THE RANDOM PLOTLINES. DAVIS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? IS THE HOTEL HAUNTED, OR IS THE WHISTLE FULL OF WOLFSBANE OR IS THE DARACH ACTIVELY MAKING THEM KILL THEMSELVES? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? ANd why would the Darach be making them kill themselves?? THey don’t match any of her sacrifice requirements! This makes no sense with the plotline you follow for the rest of the season!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SCENE? Scott was NOWHERE NEAR Ethan? WHY THE FUCK DID HE GIVE SCOTT THE CREDIT FOR SAVING HIS LIFE? And why would he thank him for it, when he told Stiles he shouldn’t have been saved? WHAT IS GOING ON?

Also, why does Ethan have like, a bruise thing on his cheek? Is that...is that a skin thing, or like, a show thing?

This doesn’t solve the problem of Allison’s car being stuck with an empty tank at the side of the road halfway to Beacon Hills.

dude. you realize that was literally 34 years ago? Deucalion would have to be like 50. and even then he would’ve been a fucking 16 year old Alpha. So that makes Deucalion more likely in his 60s. Also, why the fuck do you care Chris? This is such a random fucking thing. It makes no sense. What the fuck does it matter now?

Last Thoughts: What the fuck even is this episode? It’s like this steaming dumpster fire of half-assed ideas and loose ends to plots we’ll never see and really shitty horror movie vibes. We’re talking D List or maybe E list horror movies. I’m honestly disgusted? I can’t remember the last time I had to watch something so tasteless and cruel and insensitive in every single way?

.....on to the next episode, I guess. God, I need to change all of this in the rewrite, and I don’t know if I can actually make it good?

[missramu]

Johnny Joestar Headcanons

So, I was really bored and decided to write about my favorite Jojo, 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷𝓷𝔂! This is a mix of headcanons with some canon stuff.

So, here we go!

✰ Johnny was that typical doll-like perfect baby: curly blond hair, pale skin, pink cheeks, little freckles and big blue eyes that followed everything with curiosity. The clothes he used to wear also helped to mantain that look: in the Victorian era, babies from wealthy families used to wear dresses with plenty of ruffles, laces, ribbons, buttons and frills -no matter their sex- and bonnets. Nowadays he still has freckles; although not that many. They’re mostly on his cheeks and arms.

✰As we know, Johnny is the youngest of two brothers (being Nicholas 5 years older tan him). This, plus the fact that he also looked really fragile, made his mother really over-protective of him. This was usually seen as Johnny’s being Anne’s favorite, but she only wanted to protect his youngest son. The way his mom treated him made Johnny a shy, yet kind, child. That kindness made him adopt Danny, as well as taking care of Slow Dancer even if he knew that she was old and almost ruthless.

✰ His hair gets wavy in humid weather. When he was a child his hair was a curly mess after taking baths, but now it simply curls in soft waves, which he tries to straighten as much as possible.

✰He was born in Danville, Kentucky; so he has a heavy Southern accent. But since the Joestar family used to constantly travel to Britain -and actually lived there for some years-, Johnny added some British idioms to his vocabulary, thus resulting in a funny combo of British slang said in heavy Southern accent.

✰He grew up in a wealthy family -his father was tied to aristocracy, and also was a famous racer and breeder, having won the Triple Crown seven times and owning farms to breed racing horses-, so he’s a little bit of a spoiled brat sometimes. This status also made him picky over certain things, like food or baths.

✰Johnny was educated to be a “British gentleman” and, even if his own personality sometimes makes him fail at it, he still tries to behave as polite as possible. One habit that stayed with him was the one to note everything down, showing off his fine calligraphy and his accountant skills. The Joestar kid also knows Latin and Greek, as he was schooled. He even went to Oxford for a short period of time.

✰Johnny has never been fond of dark colours; he has always preferred to dress up in light ones. Luckily, they suit him.

✰Since he was a child, he has proved to be very perceptive of his surroundings, as well as being able to read the mood quite easily. Johnny is also good at focusing, what makes him a really good shooter -probably hunting would have been one of his hobbies, if he wasn’t kind and compassionate-. He has proved to being able to shoot at little and/or moving targets, even if firing from odd angles and perspectives.

✰Johnny loved his mother, and would try to follow her everywhere like a duckling would follow its mother. It wasn't surprising that his first words were "mama". His next word was "horsie", and would enthusiastically say it as he pointed to the horses in the fields when the family decided to take a walk around the farm.

✰In the Victorian era, it was common for toddlers to rarely be in contact with their parents; as they were mostly raised by a nanny. He did have a nanny -whom he loved deeply-, but his mother was still around at all times; she was always there for him. Despite breaking this usual thing, he was indeed raised to be like the stereotypical Victorian child: proper, polite and quiet.

✰The youngest Joestar loved to visit the horses in the family farms, enjoying their company. His fondness for these animals evolved into his skills as a jockey; as he also is well-versed in equine science.

✰Johnny was five when he first rode a horse, and his father quickly considered him a genius. The young boy quickly started to believe this as an irrefutable truth, his ego beginning to grow. Although he indeed is a genius with plenty of skills that allow him to ride across many types of terrain, or even challenge fellow genius jockey -ahem, Diego Brando-; having such a big ego ended up wounding him.

✰Even if George did praise his early horse-riding skills, the rest of Johnny’s childhood was marked by a strained relationship with him. His father was unnecessarily severe, to the point of physically punishing Johnny. He also favored Nicholas immensely, belittling the younger one with constant comparisons. After Nicholas’ death, George was convinced that “God had taken the wrong son” and took out his sadness and rage on Johnny. This cruel behaviour caused Johnny great pain, and an enormous feeling of inferiority.

✰Anne's death was a big shock for the youngest Joestar. He felt like he had lost the only support he had in the family; his mother would comfort him after his father scolds and punishments. She also happened to die a short time before Nick's accident. Johnny was 9 when his brother died; and around 7-8 when Anne died. His father cruel behaviour towards Johnny hurt him, and the little boy was upset because he didn't entirely comprehend why his mom wasn't coming back.

✰The only one who calls him by his full name -Jonathan- is his father, and he despises it. Nowadays, hearing his full name triggers something on him, reacting with some kind of fear. He was used to listen to his father call him only to point out his mistakes and scold him; so hearing “Jonathan” makes him have that kind of reaction.

✰He is a magnificent horse tamer, as seen with Slow Dancer: the horse was introduced as wild and ruthless, but she warmed up to Johnny, to the point of helping him get on her by hoisting him and rolling him down his neck and into the saddle.

✰After his father disowned him and threw him out of the Joestar household, Johnny, in shock, decided to shut himself off. With this, he also created a vain and narcissistic facade in order to hide the sadness this rejection caused him.

✰He tried to take Black Rose -Nicholas’ horse- with him when he was disowned.

✰After he was disowned, when Father’s Day arrived, Johnny used to spend the day in a sour mood, secluded and probably drinking, trying to forget his lame childhood.

✰With his pride harmed, he decided to prepare for the Kentucky Derby, winning it at the age of 16. He made it out of spite, trying to prove his father wrong and growing his own ego; maybe he couldn’t defeat Diego back in the UK, but he won the Derby. He still believes that winning the Derby was his greatest accomplisment.

✰When he was shot and paralyzed, Johnny felt his own pride crushing him: everything he showed off suddeny vanished. Unable to ride again, the horse-riding promise fell into oblivion; he lost all the friends and respect he had earned as a jockey. No one came to visit, leaving him behind; even his own father disappeared from his life, not even visiting him in the hospital. For that, Johnny is used to being abandoned: he forces himself to not get attached to anyone, since he believes that they’ll probably leave him.

✰During his stay in the hospital, the nurses used to dose him with morphine. They did it in order to shut him up –the poor boy was in terrible pain-, but for that, he got addicted to morphine. Luckily, it was only for a short time, since he managed to get clean several months after leaving the hospital.

✰Due to having such a big ego, now his past glory crushes him. He hates how he lost everything in such a pathetic way; but also believes he deserves it.

✰Surprisingly, his arms and chest are really strong; because he is always using them to crawl around and to lift himself.

✰Due to his light complex and weight, he is terribly ticklish.

✰He is a Christian, and believes in Fate and karma, but in a kind of wretched way. Johnny believes that, throughout the years, Fate itself was taking revenge on him for his misdeeds; and that he deserved every misfortune he received. His obsession with the Corpse showed his obsession with karma too, and how he wanted to reset it to a neutral state, paying off his negative debt. His beliefs in Fate explains his lack of confidence and constant panic of losing everything, since he firmly believes that Fate could at any moment take away his hopes.

✰Johnny has depression and, for this, a lack of confidence. He considers himself a useless person, a burden, and unworthy of love. This gloomy perspective of life came from his youth, making him a pessimistic man.

✰TW//suicide. He has considered -and tried- to commit suicide; but he couldn’t. He claims that it’s because he’s a “coward that hates pain, and doesn’t have the balls to finish everything”; but, deep down, it’s because he holds on to even the smallest hope.

✰TW//self harm. He has several scars: the ones on his arms are smaller, and were self-inflicted -self-harm and suicide attempts-. He also has some scars on his legs, caused by wounds he got by trying to stand up, walk and ride; but the biggest scar is the one covering half his back, as a memento from the accident. The bullet left a mark, surgery made it ugly, and the abuse he endured during his stay in the hospital made it worse. Therefore, he now is ashamed and self-concious of his back.

✰Seeing his legs makes him feel weak, and he hates that. He also despises feeling as defenceless as when someone picks him up to carry him without his consent. He truly hates feeling powerless, and it also makes him incredibly angry -and lowkey sad-. He can only tolerate this if it’s someone who he deeply trusts and knows, and only if he has asked for it.

✰At first, he wouldn’t let anyone touch neither his legs nor his back; but after warming up a little, he would tolerate caresses and gentle pats.

✰He also hates when people look at him with sorrow or as if they were pitying him. He may be disabled, but he’s still perfectly capable of plenty of things. Usually, he will reject any kind of help as politely as possible, but his anger will show.

✰Meeting Gyro made him throw away his harsh facade. At first, he was uncaring of everyone else save himself, only maintaining a polite but cold demeanour towards people he met; but Gyro’s influence made Johnny slightly more friendly.

✰ Gyro also made a great impact in Johnny’s perspective of life; not all of a sudden, but in gradual steps. The Italian man gave him hope, helped him to knock out his lack of confidence, gave him some assurance and optimism and also was genuinely nice to him, making Johnny grateful for meeting him. He treasures their relationship deeply.

✰Johnny doesn’t belittles Slow Dancer for being old, as he knows that she has plenty of experience as a Racing horse, and plenty of stamina. He truly knows his mare, possessing great knowledge of her: he knows and perceives her abilities and limits, and is able to predict what Slow Dancer will be capable of. They have grown quite close to each other, and she ocasionally nudges and licks him gently. Johnny loves this.

✰Sometimes, to kill some time, he and Gyro will exchange curses and slang in their respective languages. Gyro finds American sayings strange.

✰Gyro and Johnny had a hard time understanding each other in the beginning of their relationship: the older man had a thick Italian accent, and Johnny had to decipher what the hell was he trying to say. After a while, they grew used to each other's accents, but Gyro still made fun of Johnny's.

✰ His determination doesn’t waver, despite having failed several times. Johnny focuses on his goals, and puts them above anything else. He is also willing to endure severe wounds in order to reach them. And if you also add his stuborness…

✰The man is REALLY stubborn. If he wants to get something, he WILL, no matter what. If he has to, he will be violent or kill his opponents. This is called as “dark determination flickering in his eyes”, indicating a ruthlessness which would make Johnny able to kill in cold-blood. For this, he may seem amoral and selfish, even extending this to the interest of his loved ones. Yet he isn’t truly amoral, protecting defenceless people and taking damage to protect the ones he cares about.

✰He’s rather impulsive and hot-headed, which makes him take action as soon as possible. Sometimes, he might end up regretting not thinking BEFORE acting.

✰ Johnny would do anything for his loved ones:

Even if he’s afraid of his father, he has always tried his hardest to live up to his expectations.

He loved Nicholas deeply and looked up to him as an idol, and blames himself for his death. After he died, he became guilt-ridden, believing that his brother’s death was his own fault and that he should have died instead.

He was willing to abandon the Corpse Parts he had to save Gyro.

(JOJOLION SPOILERS!) When Rina was struck with the Rock Disease, Johnny stole the Corpse to make it transfer the disease away from her, not caring who would receive it and suffer in her place. But when the disease transfered to his son, he healed him by transfering it to himself, dying in order to save his wife and son.

✰He’s the CEO of being done with everyone’s bullshit. He’s angry 85% of the time, and usually cries out of anger.

✰ He’s also a sarcastic little shit. Any stupid questions you make him will be answered with his fine sarcasm.

✰He’s HORNY! This is shown with his bug bite fetish and the fact that he has been involved in at least one threesome. He doesn’t mind empty sex either -as he slept with several girls who came to him only for his fame-. He’s also bisexual.

✰When it comes to affection, he prefers to show his emotions through actions. For him, they speak louder.

✰Regarding to affection, Johnny will deny it; but he is touch-starved. The man really loves hugs and physical contact. He likes to hold on tight and get as close as posible. Since he doesn’t usually speak out loud his emotions, he will show them physically. However, he would rather be held, feeling loved and protected.

✰He feels guilty when someone falls in love with him, since he believes he’s not worthy of happiness nor love. He tends to think that he’s making them waste their time on him, when they could be with someone who could provide them with what they deserve. He can’t help but compare himself to others, belittling himself.

✰When he has a crush, he will do anything to deny it. He doesn’t want to admit how someone began to be so important to him, and is afraid that “Fate” might take them away from him. If he has to avoid them, he will; just to get away and not face his feelings.

✰George does reconcile with Johnny, and feels ashamed of how he treated his own son. He claims to be proud of him now, and even gives Johnny Nicholas’ boots. At first Johnny was resentful and wasn’t planning on forgiving him, since he believed that his father was only coming back for his recovered fame. After a couple weeks he decided against that, forgiving George and honouring him by naming his only son after him.

✰Nicholas’ boots were one of his most beloved possessions, and were passed down as a family relic.

✰If Rina had allowed him to name their daughter, he would have called her Anne, in honour to his mother.

✰In Japan, the Joestar-Higashikata family lived in a farm. Although the place is designed in the Japanese traditional way, Johnny couldn't help but give it some Western touches, specifically to the barns. These ones were designed to be as similar as the ones his father had in Britain and Danville. It made Johnny nostalgic, but in a gentle and warm way; he purposefully made them like that, so he could remember his roots.

✰They were quite wealthy: not only for the Higashikata's fruit business, but also for Johnny's connection with the Japanese government.

✰As a horse-riding teacher, his pupils loved and respected him deeply. Johnny liked discipline -as he took his profession seriously-, but was also very kind to them, treating them with the respect he never received.

✰Obviously, he taught his children to ride as early as possible.

[sdottkrames]

You’ll Always Be Adored By the Things You [Save]

@comfortember prompt 12: Emotional support pet

Summary: Her name is Tess, and everybody adores her.

Notes: I honestly just love Tom and his love for Tess. They are the cutest! I’m thinking about making more with Tess, so if you like this, let me know and maybe I will! 😊

Also: Lucy and Rocky were the names of my dogs growing up. Lucy was a sassy, adorable Shih Tzu, and Rocky was the kindest, gentlest Boxer you’d ever meet. They both have since passed (they lived very long, happy lives) but I wanted to add them in this story somehow. I’m just a cheeseball. Also, Zendaya (MJ) Played a character named Rocki in a Disney show called Shake It Up, so it was a little nod to that as well.

Read on AO3: Here

“Tony, I’m really worried about him.”

May poked her head around the corner of their apartment, making sure Peter was still asleep. His breathing was too even for him to be faking, and she sighed in relief before continuing.

“He’s been off ever since the...the blip. I can tell. He’s been eating a lot less, and I looked at his grades the other day. Tony, that boy has never gotten below an A-, but he got a C+ on his last Physics test. And that’s not even including the fact that he was stabbed last night because his Peter Tingle isn’t working right.” Her voice was rising in pitch and volume, right in time with the panic that was welling up inside her. 

May and Tony had been having weekly conference calls about their resident spider since May had found out about it, and they’d quickly picked it back up once they had been undusted. Their normally lighthearted calls filled with mostly laughter had taken a more somber tone recently. 

Tony hummed on the other end of the phone. “I’ve been worried, too.”

Those words, though not necessarily helpful, made May feel less alone. She was grateful someone was helping her take care of her nephew because he was doing a terrible job of doing it himself, as evidenced by the stab wound on his left side. He’d come home weak and bleeding the previous night, and May had hurriedly patched him up, her training as a nurse the only thing keeping her panic in check.

“I honestly don’t know what to do, May. We tried letting him come to us and that didn’t work. I’ve got a list of great therapists-”

May cut him off. “He’ll never do that. I already tried that one, and he insisted that he didn’t want me paying money for him. I even pulled the whole “your mentor is a billionaire, and he would want you to get help” card, but he was pretty adamant.”

Tony sighed, and May felt it echo deep in her bones. They ended the call shortly after, no closer to a solution for Peter than before.

The next week on their call, Tony’s voice was considerably more lighthearted. She attributed it to the fact that Peter hadn’t been injured that week, but then he excitedly announced that had “the best idea!”

May’s eyebrows rose, even though she knew Tony couldn’t see them. “I’m listening.”

“Okay. How do you feel about dogs?”

“Oh,” May breathed.

“Yeah. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.”

“Me either. He’s been asking for a dog since he was, like, 5. The only problem is,” May said, biting her lip. “Our landlord doesn’t allow dogs.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Tony promised, and May nearly snorted at the thought of their stuffy, no-nonsense landlady getting a visit from Tony Stark. She pitied the woman.

***

“Ms., ah, Levitt, is it?” 

The lady looked up from her desk, and immediately blinked in shock. Tony internally rolled his eyes when the lady blushed and started trying to fix her hair, the look on her face one he’d seen on way too many women in his earlier years.

No chance, lady, I’m married. He thought, but flashed her a kind smile, anyway. “Are you the landlady of this apartment building?”

“I am. Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Tony shook her offered hand, not holding on for a second longer than necessary. “Likewise. I am here on behalf of the Parker family...apartment 96. I was thinking about getting Peter an emotional support animal. He blipped, and has been having trouble adjusting, and I heard cute, fluffy animals work wonders. But I understand you don’t allow those?”

Levitt’s smile hardened. “Yes, I’m afraid we have a non-negotiable no-pet policy.”

She obviously hated animals. And probably little children. Figures. Luckily, years watching Pepper hand stuffy businessmen their behinds had taught Tony a thing or two. He could handle this lady.

“Well, I took the liberty of reviewing things, and did you know that, by law, emotional support or therapy animals must be allowed in any building? That includes yours. Now, I understand that there is a fee associated with having a therapy animal, which I will cover, and of course proper documentation, which I have right here.” Tony produced the paperwork, signed by Dr. Cho, stating that Peter should be allowed a therapy animal of his choosing. “If there are any further problems, I’m sure my wife would be happy to speak to you. She and our lawyer will be handling any legal issues.”

Tony watched in satisfaction as Ms. Levitt’s face blanched, knowing she was beat. Nobody could go up against Pepper Potts-Stark and win. 

She breathed heavily through her nose once then plastered a smile back on her face, though it didn’t meet her eyes. “That won’t be necessary. We value the Parkers. The fee is an extra $125 a month. Once you have the animal, bring the proof of licensure and ESA status, and we should be all set.”

Tony had her put his card on file so the payment would come out of his account. This was his gift to Peter (and May. Though she wouldn't admit it, he knew that she also loved animals and would have bought one (or two) if they’d had the money) and then stood to leave.

“Have a nice day,” he said, giving Levitt a cheery wave before waltzing out the door. He had a kid to surprise.

***

“Tony, really, where are we going?”

“For the millionth time, I’m not going to tell you, so stop wasting your breath.” Peter huffed indignantly, and Tony shoved his arm playfully. “Patience is a virtue, underoos.”

“And pride is a sin, yet here we are,” Peter quipped.

“Yes, here we are,” Tony said, grinning as Happy pulled the car into a parking spot in front of Rocky’s Shelter and Supplies. Tony had spent hours researching adoption agencies around, wanting to find a really good one to support, and Rocky’s had been one of the best he’d seen. Plus, they had a great variety to choose from. (And no, he hadn’t been crying looking at all the animals, who told you that?)

Peter’s reaction was everything Tony had hoped for. The kids brown eyes got impossibly larger, and filled with tears.

“R-really?” He squeaked. “But our apartment doesn’t allow dogs.”

Tony grinned. “I threatened to sic Pepper on her.”

Then Peter was hugging Tony around the middle, murmuring an unbroken stream of thankyou’s. 

“I heard you’ve been wanting one for a while, and May and I figured having a furry companion might help with everything. You gotta promise-“

“That I’ll take care of it? Of course I will! I’ve been preparing for this my entire life! When I was 11, I made a PowerPoint presentation demonstrating proper care of a dog, just to show Ben and May I would take care of one. I wanted a dog soooo bad. I can’t believe I’m actually getting one.”

Tony chuckled at Peter’s rambling. “I’m glad you’re excited. But I was going to say you gotta promise that you’ll take better care of yourself, too.”

Peter nodded fast, his curls bouncing, which was endlessly endearing. “I promise!”

“Then lead the way.”

They spent time with a number of different dogs, taking their time to find just the right one. Tony could tell he was going to have to physically restrain Peter (And himself, if he was being totally honest) from buying every single dog in the shelter. The kid dragged him to every cage, exclaiming how cute each “pupper” (what even was this generation’s lingo?) was, and blinking back tears at nearly every one. 

Then Peter met Tess.

Tony had started believing in love at first sight when he’d seen Pepper in that purple dress she’d worn to a charity event years ago. Then he’d been absolutely sure of it when he’d held Morgan in his arms for the first time, the love he felt for her so strong and immediate and real that it had chased away the fear of becoming his dad that threatened to paralyze him. 

But feeling it and witnessing it was two different things.

He wondered if he’d looked like Peter when he’d laid eyes on the two most important and precious women in his life. The little gasp, the soft smile, the look of complete awe. Basically, the definition of the heart-eyes emojis.

“This one,” Peter breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “Can I meet her?”

The lady helping them, a sweet girl named Lucy, unlocked the cage and brought the beautiful grey pup over to the room for humans and dogs to meet, and as soon as Peter was close enough, she was all over him, her tail thumping with abandon.

“Yeah, I think we’ll take her,” Tony said over Peter’s delighted giggles.

***

Tess loved everybody, but it was no secret who her favorite was. No matter who she was with or what she was doing, as soon as Peter was in the room, she was right by his side. She was his shadow, following him around like a planet following the sun.

So Tony should’ve realized that something was wrong when she came trotting into his lab without Peter.

Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for her to come get pats from someone else when Peter wasn’t available, like when he was at school or on patrol or asleep. But Tony should’ve known that at 4 PM on a Thursday, Peter should have been doing none of those things. It was a lab day, Peter’s day off from Spider-Manning, and too early for the normally energetic kid to be asleep.

As it was, Tony was so focused on fixing Dum-E (who had spun too hard showing off for Peter the other day) that he just patted her head without looking. He nearly dropped his screwdriver when Tess gave a high pitched yip.

Tony finally looked up. “What’s the matter, girl. You gotta go out?”

Tess barked again, high pitched and insistent, her big eyes so expressive he could almost see what she was thinking.

“Peter,” he gasped, his stomach plummeting all the way down to his shoes. “Where is he, girl?”

Tessa tore out the door needing no further prompting, Tony right on her heels. She stopped outside Peter’s door whining anxiously, and Tony quickly opened it, dread filling him.

His first reaction was relief. There was no blood, at least not that he could see. Then his worry returned even stronger because Peter was laying on the ground not moving and there wasn't any blood. At least blood made it easier to identify the problem!

“Friday!” He choked out, rushing to Peter’s side. He was still breathing, but it sounded noisy and labored. He was also conscious, but Tony couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not because there was so much fear in his eyes, and it broke Tony’s heart right in two.

“Dr. Cho is already on her way, sir. If I may, it appears Peter is having an allergic reaction, going into anaphylactic shock. You must keep him awake until the Dr gets here,” Friday answered.

Teas whined again, nudging Peter’s hand.

“Good girl, Tess. You’re such a good girl!” Tony said, patting her head then turning to Peter. “Well kid, if you didn’t want to do lab day today, you could’ve just said so. No need for all the theatrics; that’s kinda my department.”

Tony kept rambling, slapping Peter gently whenever he started to close his eyes, until Cho was rushing in. She quickly stabbed him with an epipen and started to prepare him to go to the infirmary, pausing when Tess growled, the first time she’d ever done that.

“Easy, Tessa-girl. She’s helping Peter. Let’s go with ‘em, yeah? You can keep watching our boy.”

They made their way to the infirmary, where Peter was being given medicine to combat whatever had caused him to react that way. Tony nearly doubled over laughing when he heard what it was, the stress making him slightly hysterical. It really wasn’t funny.

“Peppermint?” He asked Peter later, once Peter could talk and had been deemed out of the woods. Tess was curled up as close as she could to him, and Tony was sitting on the chair next to the bed.

“I just wanted a peppermint hot chocolate from Starbucks. I used to love those,” Peter pouted. “But apparently Peppermint is toxic to spiders. I guess I hadn’t had any peppermint since the change.”

“Well how about never do that again. My heart cannot take that stress.”

Tess whined in agreement.

***

Tony was quickly learning that Tess was a lot like Peter. Her ability to get everybody to love her, for one, and her penchant for cuddles.

Which is how Tony found himself one Friday night squished on the couch with a teenager tucked tightly into his side and a 30 pound dog laying across his lap while watching Bolt. They were both happily situated, Peter nearly purring as Tony ran his hands through his hair and Tess’ tail thumping gently against Tony’s leg. He pretended not to like it, but he was so comfortable, he quickly fell asleep.

He didn’t sleep very long.

Soon after his eyes closed, he woke up in a panic, his heart beating rapidly, a sense of panic overwhelming him. He couldn’t remember what the dream that woke him up had been about, which only made the sense of foreboding worse. He closed his eyes again, pretending to still be asleep as he quietly struggled to get his breathing under control.

Suddenly, a weight settled on top of him. He opened his eyes in surprise, and realized Tess had climbed into his lap, putting her head on his shoulder and her front paws on his chest. It was strangely comforting, her weight and warmth, but surprising nonetheless.

“Whatcha doing there, girl?” He chuckled.

“Pressure therapy,” Peter answered. “Something I taught her to do whenever I’m having an anxiety attack or sensory overload. It helps. She must’ve sensed you were panicking.” 

“Huh.” Tony shook his head in wonder.

“You alright?” Peter asked, tentatively.

“Yeah. Just a bad dream. I don’t even know what it was about, just left me feeling anxious.”

Peter nodded, and slid his hand into Tony’s. Boy and dog didn’t move a muscle until Tony’s heart was a normal rhythm again. Or...maybe a little while after that. They really did love snuggles. And Tony...yet another thing they had in common.

Luckily, he loved them both right back just as much.

[dognoselover]

Bloodstained Hands, Ch 2:

Kakashi shot awake in a panic, gasping for breath and covered in a cold sweat. His hands were trembling, and, for a long moment, he was disoriented. This wasn’t his room, or his apartment. Where were his pictures of his team? Or Mr. Ukki? Even his body felt wrong. But then, suddenly, Kakashi remembered where he was. When he was.

“Kakashi!”

His eyes widened at the sound of the sweet, sing-song way his name was called. No… It couldn’t be. Throwing himself from the bed, he rushed to the front door, ignoring the way his skull flared painfully and how he stumbled. Panting, he slowed as the front door came into sight.

“Kakashi, I know you’re in there. You didn’t show up for training today. Minato-sensei said you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I should bring over something for you to eat…”

“Why do you even bother?” Came a loud, familiarly obnoxious voice. Dread rose in Kakashi’s chest, threatening to consume him. “You know he’s not even going to answer the door.”

Unbeknownst to his teammates, the Hatake was only a few feet from the door. He could sense their chakra, weaker than he last remembered it, but still there, strong and steady. The wound in his heart begged him to open the door, to wrap them both in his too-small arms and beg for their forgiveness. Yet, he couldn’t find the strength in him to move, paralyzed by fear. The darkness within him too easily reminded him that he was the reason for both of their deaths. If anything, he should push them away. He should push them far, far away, and then maybe then they would be safe from the destruction that he caused everywhere he went.

Obito and Rin were freshly fallen snow, and Kakashi was soaked in their blood, trying to keep it from dripping from his fingers with every breath.

“See?” Obito broke through his thoughts. “I told you he wasn’t going to answer.”

“Hush!” Rin scolded. Kakashi silently approached the door, using every ounce of restraint that he had finely honed during his decades as a shinobi. “Kakashi, please, talk to us.”

His voice came through low and hoarse, like a hiss. “Go away.”

Unfortunately, his acknowledgement of their presence only encouraged Rin. “Kakashi!” She exclaimed. The happiness in her voice tore at his soul like savage claws, and everytime she said his name his resolve crumbled a little more. “I brought some miso soup, since I know it’s your favorite… It has eggplant, too! I-”

“Go away. I don’t want to see you.”

“Oh. Alright…” Rin trailed off, and Kakashi could hear the dejection in her voice. Of course, if Rin was upset, Obito felt the need to jump to her defense.

“Why do you have to say that, Bakakashi?” Obito shouted. “You’re always so mean, and Rin was just trying to do something nice for you-!”

ooooh this is a cool section !! i’ll do my best to give a Good DVD Comment on it but i wrote it... at least a year ago so LMAO

the chapter begins with a nightmare and that nightmare ends with rin saying kakashi’s name when she was killed - and i liked the transition of her, in real life, saying it to him to wake him up. and kakashi’s freshly time traveled, so he’s disorientated and confused af. 

meanwhile, obito and rin are... concerned out of their minds. kakashi? sick? missing training? he must be dying. so of course they’re going to go check on him. but kakashi hasn’t actually seen them yet. it’s his first interaction with his formerly dead teammates (save for minato).

and he’s just confused, especially awoken from a nightmare like that, and his most significant memories of them are of their deaths, and he’s just not ready. not ready to accept this is his reality now, not ready to lock eyes with two people he failed so spectacularly and pretend like everything was normal, like he was his bratty 12 year old self who didn’t care when actually he cares so so much.

this is also the first time we see a theme prevalent throughout the first half of the story-- what does kakashi do different? does he hold them closer or push them father away? savor their presence or protect himself from another possible failure-- their possible deaths, again?

he just doesn’t know right then, so he pushes them away. he doesn’t have a solid plan of action and that scares him. he doesn’t know what he’s going to do and he can’t show them all this emotion that he has-- emotion that he’s not even used to dealing with himself --because if they see that emotion then they’re going to know something’s wrong and then they’re going to press him. press him for information he doesn’t have and isn’t ready to give. he just... doesn’t have any answers. and with kakashi the way he is, a strategic genius since he was a toddler, i imagine not knowing what to do is frightening. he’s always been quick on his feet, with a witty retort or a plan of action and here he’s got nothing. nada. the obvious tactical solution is to retreat until he does have a plan.

so he pushes them away. or tries to. rin is wholeheartedly concerned for him and wants to express that in a way kakashi would appreciate -- something practical, like a meal -- and she’s undeterred by his expected backlash. her concern for her teammate far extends the severity of his words, which she’s used to by now, and his barbs aren’t so much as barbs to her. she recognizes it for what it is: a defense mechanism. she also knows that he just can’t keep closing himself up but that’s pitted against her politeness and fear of upsetting him, which is why she gives up relatively quickly after kakashi insists that they leave.

obito, on the other hand, is vulnerable. he’s concerned for kakashi for once, not seeing him right now as a rival but a teammate in need-- because when, ever, has the prodigy kakashi seemed so human? --and when kakashi uses that vulnerability to push him away, obito gets understandably angry. he’s defensive of himself for being vulnerable, which was obviously a mistake since kakashi didn’t take the olive branch, and it presents as defensiveness of rin, even though she can well enough handle herself. why rin, though? well, we could just put gender roles into place and say something outdated like “he was protecting her” from someone she.. didn’t need protecting from. but in reality, he gets defensive over rin because he can’t get defensive over himself. saying that he didn’t like kakashi’s response is the same as admitting weakness, and 12 year old kakashi caught scent of weaknesses and exploited them like a bloodhound on a trail. and obito wants nothing more than kakashi’s respect, to see him as an equal. so if he shows that he’s concerned, that he’s hurt, kakashi would just see him as a crybaby plus some. since he wants to avoid that, shifting his protectiveness onto rin is the next best option.

ultimately it just presents a team dynamic that i thought was... fitting. obito and kakashi still clashing, right off the bat, as if nothing had changed although everything had changed. putting a bigger strain on their first true meeting. it’s all kakashi trying to juggle time traveling and his not-dead dead teammates and all this unusual physical pain he has in his left eye, while at the same time obito trying to handle kakashi and rin trying to handle the both of them.

i could honestly ramble about this a whole lot more -- i’ve already written a fuckn more in depth analysis of my own damn writing than i was expecting (why cant i do this on my college essays) -- but i think that about sums it up. can you tell i like introspection a whole lot? :)

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

My Friend Emmett Kelly

Summary: Eddie pulled away and looked off into that bright orange sky. “I miss them.” He frowned as he started walking up to a dead freight car. Mike followed and accepted the helping hand of his friend when it was apparently came time to hop inside and sat at the edge. “I miss them and I couldn’t even remember them a few days ago.”

{IT happened but these 3 idiots meet-up before the 2nd showdown w/ Pennywise. They’re about 28 in this story}

By the way, just in case you don't know: Emmett Kelly was a circus performer, who created the clown character "Weary Willie", based on the hobos of the Depression era :)

{She doesn’t care but I dedicate this to the #1 Emmett Kelly fan @m-o-o-n-thatspellsblog ;) !!}

Words: 5,184

Ship: Reddie, 

“No one wants to ride and train when they can just jump in a Ford and go.”

The Hitchhiker came and went through the bloodied recesses of Edward Kaspbrak’s mind often. He would repeat old time-y sentiments that were not necessarily blatant horror, sentences Eddie could take as calmly as a pill only a little too thick to swallow on the first try. But they were the kind of words that ripped another stringy clot of skin from the wound that the first had created.

Sometimes,The Hitchhiker would open his mouth to a gentle ‘O’ and out would pour the sounds of an old radio trying to tune itself to a station. Static would salt out of his painted lips before landing on something like Roger Miller singing ‘King of The Road’.

“Third boxcar, midnight train, destination Bangor, Maine Old worn-out suits and shoes I don't pay no union dues...”

Though The Hitchhiker hadn’t started doing that until he tunneled his way out of Eddie’s mind and bled into the real world. But there was also the likely possibility that Eddie had manifested the character into the air by building him a subconscious bridge.

The train-yard in Derry, Maine was the first place that he saw his little friend slinking around a plain of existence that Eddie hadn’t made-up.

It was late-afternoon with the company of a low-hanging sun and nice screeches coming from under the wheels of great long freight trains. Passenger trains long since halted their run in the town. But the freights were loaded with goods to bring into places to the north and to the south. His favorites used to be the ones which had gleaming Fords and Chevies because it had been a real dream of his childhood to own a car like those.

His little hitchhiking friend must have known of this affection for the yard because that afternoon, when he was back in his hometown to watch over his sick mother, the sad man was just sitting on a paused freight.

His eyebrows frozen in what looked to be an upward quiver and lived under a flat little brown hat. A shadow of paint took over his chin like a beard and made the white around his lips truly stand out. But most notably, a ball of red sat in place of his nose.

Eddie recognized the familiarity of the man in an instant. For he...was what Eddie had begun to associate with patterned, fuzzy memories that sometimes came back into his head. They were never complete nor useful, just sentences that could be a mighty pain to that first wound. But the man on the freight was the image they were almost always voiced from.

In an old worn out suit, lived an Emmett Kelly looking clown who sometimes appeared to Eddie in passing thought. Of course, he was never quite sure why he’d first began to associate a clown with old childhood memories but it never much bothered him until he set foot back into Derry.

And in that moment, as he sat on the train with a clutched fist around a small sack, the Kelly lookalike seemed so real.

The man turned to Eddie and spoke one of those charmed little sentences but this time, he had his very own voice because there was the absence of him being trapped in Eddie’s own internal narrative. “No one wants to ride and train when they can just jump in a Ford and go.”

That had been his mother. Sonia. Eddie was sure that she had once said something of that sort to him when he asked about the trains that ran through town. It was a plain sort of comment she’d thrown into her little story but nonetheless, it had pained the boy in that childhood memory who adored trains for whatever odd reason. 

Emmett, Eddie supposed he could refer to him as such, reached out a hand which poked out from the boxcar. Eddie flinched in some sort of sweaty fear but calmed slightly when he realized he had only been pointing to a crate sitting in the cinders. 

Eddie was sort of paralyzed with either fear or shock but decided to take a peek when Emmett covered his eyes in a playful manner. As if to say ‘Hey! I’ll look away, if you want’!

So Eddie tipped his body and took a small, gentle peek into the crate that was clicking around and caught sight of something eerily familiar. Slithering and crawling inside were 4 lobsters. Printed across the side of the box in faded yellow paint were the words; ‘Take em’ home to yer mum’. 

“Oh, Fuck off” He shook his head and stepped back to his original spot. His memories of the early days had begun to clear up ever since he returned to Derry some days ago and if he recalled right, this had once happened to him before...in a different way. 

When he glanced back to the train, Emmett had disappeared altogether. 

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

Four days later, Eddie decided to sort out all the closets and his old bedroom for any hidden treasures or shit to just jog his memory. He ran into an old looking photo-book and some old books he decided to bring to the library because he doubted his mother would ever miss them. 

Plus, it was a good excuse to leave the old home. So Eddie took a nice mid-afternoon stroll through Derry with the small box of books under his arm. 

He went through the train-yard, walking along track 4 and browsing that old photo-book. He glanced up every few minutes but never once did he catch a glimpse of his Hitchhiker Emmett. 

It was strange...that kind of fear that his little Hitchhiker caused him now. Bouncing from mind to reality like that and something about clowns absolutely terrified him lately. A fear that, he again didn’t notice until returning to Derry. 

The air smelled strongly of dark brown perfume and mild touches of wet autumn leaves as Eddie moved back towards the main street. He found the library in mere seconds and attempted to balance the box and the photo-book underneath it as he took the stairs and strolled inside. 

His forearms itched, that dirty itch, when he set the box onto the main counter. Which felt like bugs had crawled under his skin and were now making themselves comfortable.

“You wanna donate these or-...?” 

Eddie glanced up when the man didn’t finish his sentence and found a nice looking dude looking completely wrecked with shock. 

Little Emmett Kelly was back in his mind, opening his mouth and tuning it specifically to a song...“Like the pine trees linin' the windin' road I've got a name, I've got a name...”

“Mike-...Mike Hanlon?” Eddie heard himself say out-loud before he truly could place him. But when the man smiled back at him, wide and lovingly, he found his place and Emmett smiled too before the image left his mind. 

“Eddie Kaspbrak!” Mike reached out for a hug that felt amazingly soft. Eddie melted into him like butter...and kinda like a man about to breakdown and cry. But the long lost pal just tightened his arms around him and sighed with something like relief and pride. 

‘Long lost pal...that reminds me of a song...’ Eddie paused to think. ‘Something another friend used to sing-’

Emmett reappeared in his mind’s eye for a brief second and used his magic mouth-radio to play just what he was looking for. 

“If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal I can call you Betty And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al...”

Eddie nodded to himself and pulled away from Mike even though he desperately didn’t want to move an inch. 

The man before him was so obviously placed now that Eddie couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. He was just as charming, handsome and grounded as he was in their childhood days. Michael Hanlon. 1 of 7.  : : : : :

Before Eddie could stop himself and maybe be polite enough to leave Mike to his work, he had begged him to come walking with him. He hadn’t felt that deeply connected to anyone in many years so he planned to enjoy it while he had the time. It sucked that the catch-up had to take place in Derry, of all places, but it was a town that would live in each of them for as long as they lived even if they forgot for a while. ‘How fucked was that?’

That photo-book now curled up in his fist. He took Mike back by the train-yard and the two strolled down track 4 while the sun bathed them both in colors deserving of Summer even though it was mid-fall. 

“And I suppose...once you leave, you’ll memory will fade again.” Mike finished his long story of their fucking shitty childhood nightmare which seemed to drag Eddie down like the thick filmy sweat that use to coat his body after a long summers day in the Barrens, the one that made him realize that day was over. 

“I’ve been seeing a clown-...”

Mike snapped his eyes directly to Eddie’s, they were filled with dreaded fear. 

“No-...It’s not like that...” Eddie couldn’t really explain himself because he wasn’t sure if it really made sense out-loud. “It’s this character that I sorta created a few years back, the angel and devil on my shoulder or something.” Eddie scratched behind his ear and Mike hopped off the rail and strolled closer.

“When memories pop into my brain or weird shit that I can’t place, it speaks through him in my head. Which is fucked-up I guess but I didn’t really give a shit about it before. I just thought it was something I did, y’know? He was a train-hopper kinda...dude. Which I always liked but now...”

Mike pulled Eddie’s sleeve just to let him know he was safe to speak. 

“Mike, he scares the shit outta me. Not because he’s doing anything scary. But when I got to Derry and started feeling things the way I used to...Clowns just didn’t fucking sit right with me-” 

Eddie broke into a loud laugh which Mike had to join in because their lives were too fucking weird. 

“One time, I was driving this client of mine, right?” Eddie bumped their arms together and laughed. “And my little Hitchhiker popped into my brain when a really good song was on-...‘Roll Me Away’ Bob Seger, I think...-and in a clear impression of Richie Tozier, which I now recognize and can place as I’m telling you this, he said ‘Life is just what happens in between long drives.’.”

Eddie sighed like he couldn’t believe his own words. “That’s what Emmett does. He repeats things like that to me...like a moment’s reminder not strong enough for me to keep remembering but strong enough to deepen a wound I didn’t know I had.” 

His eyes were watery when he turned back to Mike, which he didn’t realize was breaking Mike’s heart a little. “Emmett?”

“Oh, That’s what I call him. Because he isn’t a Bozo kinda clown...looks more like an Emmett Kelly, you know him?” Eddie asked and suddenly pulled out an inhaler to suck on which sent Mike back some years ago. “Anyway, I think Richie told me that once when I got my license and drove him to a K-Mart one town over.” Eddie giggled. 

Mike smiled with a touch of sadness that now broke Eddie’s heart. “If there’s anything I learn from staying here in Derry, Eddie, it’s that you can’t live your todays being scared to wake up for the tomorrows.” Mike gently put his arm around him and squeezed. “It’s not a good way to live and...” He looked to him with warm eyes. 

“If there’s no reason to, don’t start convincing yourself to be scared of your Hitchhiker. We all got our angels and devils on our old shoulders. And don’t let the memories of...IT...-” Mike hesitated before he said that “Overwhelm you. No use in giving it a thought unless there should come a day when we have to.” Mike added that with a look of sorrow but found the joy to smile again. 

“I should live by those words, Mike.” Eddie shook his finger and repeated them in his head, like a mantra. ‘You can’t live your todays being scared to wake up for the tomorrows.’ 

He thought upon all those horrible nights spent wide awake and being scared of how many times he might lose his breath the next day. Clutching his inhaler like an anxiety filled mess. 

Eddie didn’t notice he’d been anxiously clasping and unclasping his hands until Mike held out his arms for a hug. He fell into Mike’s grip as if the number of years hadn’t actually passed and they were still teenagers who saw each other everyday. Mike rubbed his hand in a circle on his back. “We have to be there for each other...”

Eddie pulled away and looked off into that bright orange sky. “I miss them.” He frowned as he started walking up to a dead freight car. Mike followed and accepted the helping hand of his friend when it was apparently came time to hop inside and sat at the edge. “I miss them and I couldn’t even remember them a few days ago.” 

Mike watched with a tilted chin as Eddie paced the length of the old boxcar in that nervous way he had always approached stress with. It brought a little light into the car, Mike thought. He could only be what the situation handed him in moments like this, where he was pretty vulnerable. And the situation tossed him a memory of joy so he smiled at his friend who’d been young once too despite the speed in which they’d all had to grow up in. “I can’t imagine how you’ve been feeling. Considering you didn’t forget.” Eddie dropped his shoulders and sat back down. 

Mike shrugged like it was no big deal but there was a bit of pain behind his kind eyes that gave him away. 

“I mean...at least we got to forget all that shit and have the luxury of not being aware we had any trauma. What the others made of it, I don’t know but...” He waved his hand out into the air but let it fall. “Well...who’s there for you?” 

Mike’s lips trembled which was strange to see. “I don’t if either of those two options is great, Eddie.” He rolled his lips together when his friend raised his brow. “Remembering our trauma for the six of you is extremely exhausting. But also...forgetting trauma leaves room to pick up unhealthy habits again...” 

Eddie clutched his inhaler and blinked back some stress tears. He looked off towards the middle of the train-yard and found his little hitchhiker in the distant boney and dead grass. Emmett was shaking what looked like his very own inhaler except when he went to suck on it, water squirted out and drenched his face. He frowned and made brief eye-contact before tossing the thing deep into the field, looking betrayed.

‘Yeah’...Eddie decided the Hitchhiker was nothing to be scared of. 

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

“For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside. That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive...”  Bruce Springsteen lyrics. That’s what Emmett tuned his good ol’ mouth radio to in Eddie’s dream last night. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was aiming for with that but decided it’d be best not to think too hard about it. Instead, Eddie made his mother some breakfast and tried not to self-diagnose the itchy spot on his arm as eczema. 

The bushel of pink-painted roses covering the delicate plate was covered in scrambled eggs and a side of bacon made just for Sonia. 

They say the older you get, the harder it is to forgive & forget. Fixing up moist yellow scrambled eggs...for a mother only surviving on the given notion that her son was too much of a victim to say no...-Eddie was finding that saying to be true. He plopped the mess of food onto the table in front of his mom and remembered something simple. 

Upstairs & and on his wooden bedroom window-sill there was a small carving. Eddie smiled to himself and took of for his room, no matter how his mom complained that they needed to spend actual time together. He just had to see if it was what he thought it was...

Kneeling down, he dragged his finger against the wood he couldn’t see until he felt the markings. He dipped himself to take a peek & found that it was still there, of course. ‘BADLANDS’

The song in which those Bruce Springsteen lyrics had come from. “Holy shit.” Eddie mumbled to himself and slapped the window-sill in pure shock. He laughed to himself, a deep sort of chuckle that may have sounded a little crazy.

Richie Damn Tozier. The memory was getting a little clearer now. 

Fourteen year old Tozier had carved that into the weak wood with the butter knife Eddie had used to spread butter onto his toast that morning. 

The Hitchhiker spoke in Richie’s voice as he reappeared in Eddie’s mind- “I’m tellin’ ya, Eds. You gotta listen to the song, there’s this part that reminds me of you. Listen-....” Emmett paused and instead of continuing with young memory version of Richie reading out the lyrics, he tuned that good ol’ mouth radio and sounded out that specific part. 

“You wake up in the night With a fear so real You spend your life waiting For a moment that just don't come Well don't waste your time waiting” 

Bruce sang out lyrics that eerily reminded Eddie of what Mike had said a few days ago; ‘You can’t live your todays being scared to wake up for the tomorrows.’ 

He really couldn’t blame Richie for associating that lyric with him. Eddie smiled to himself and dragged his thumb across the carving once more before standing. The dork had carved the title in so Eddie wouldn’t forget to listen to it. 

His heart skipped a beat or two and he tried to wrap himself in that happy memory. 

: : : : : : : :

A call came in through Eddie’s cell when the man was showering some two days later and was answered by his loving mother. Sonia picked it up without a moments hesitation because she had as much of a right as her son, after all she had paid for his living for around 17 years. 

“-Is Eddie there, Mrs. Kaspbrak? I have an important message.” 

She paused and glanced up the stairs to listen for a stop in the running water but it was still going off and probably splashing onto the tile because her boy always left a mess in there. “Michael Hanlon, right?” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

A small snort escaped her lips because it felt very much like the past when those rowdy kids would ask for him to come play. “What is so important? Don’t you know Eddie is here to take care of his sick mother? Is that not more of an emergency-?”

Sonia was cut off not by Mike but by Eddie who’d suddenly burst down the stairs and snatched the phone out of her hand. “Mike? Sorry, it’s me.” He spared a look to Sonia, who only shook her head and left to lay across the couch in the other room.  “What is it?”

“Nothing bad, actually. I think there’s someone down at the library you’ll want to see again.” 

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

“ED’S!”

“Richie fucking Tozier, what on earth blew you into town?” Eddie jogged towards the main desk and threw his friends a warm grin. 

“More like who on earth blew me into town!” Richie broke into that little chuckle he used to do whenever he was being a little shit. Mike and Eddie only tossed each other annoyed looks and waited for an actual response. “-Yeah, nobody did...ha...Not funny, huh?” He swiped his curled knuckle under his nose and shook his head.  

Mike rolled his eyes fondly and thumped their arms together to urge Richie to spill. “Um, yeah I-” Richie awkwardly began and ran his palms down the legs of his jeans. “I’m just visiting my parents for the weekend. Wentworth is being a little asshole, say’s he wants to redo the living room.” Richie shrugged. “So ma called me to try and y’know, talk him outta it...distract him - which is my talent after all -” He broke for laughter. 

“But my ulterior motive, you ask?” Richie waved his arms and smugly grinned. 

“Oh, tell us!” Mike chirped happily from behind the desk. 

“I want to try and convince ol’ Went to hand over all his old or vintage luggage and suitcases to me, y’know?” He leaned back onto the desk and shrugged. “He’s got tons of nice junk perfect for me stuff my shit into. I just gotta get him to make the big journey to our storage unit place.” He grinned madly. 

“What did you pack your stuff into to get here if you are without that necessity?” Eddie narrowed his eyes and came to stand against the desk, to Mike’s left and Richie to his right. 

Richie waggled his finger and clicked his tongue. “A garbage bag-” 

“Jesus, Richie-”

“What it wasn’t a used garbage bag, Eddie. I have some class.” 

“Yeah, you’re the picture of class. Just drop the C & the L.” Eddie shook his head and feigned his attention elsewhere which always used to annoy his friend. A few seconds of silence passed them. 

“Oh, I’m the ass?”

“Congratulations, you figured out the joke!” Eddie playfully clicked his own tongue and pretended he was more interested in the books stacked just next to his elbow. Richie reached over and smacked his other arm off the counter.

“Don’t start with me Kaspbrak, I can so pick up where we left off back in fifth grade & you stole my Twinkie!” Richie was now trying to smother his laughter and playfully swatting Eddie’s hands.

But his friend paused for a second and turned to Mike. “So, you remember that?” Eddie turned back to Richie. “What else are you remembering?” 

“Oh, the killer fucking clown? Yeah, no - Mike helped catch me up to speed.” Richie stuck his finger out to point at him and laughed but it was not at all happy. It was bitter and miserable which could strike any Loser’s Club member with fear. The three men went quiet again, which the library was probably thankful for. The sour change in the mood easily took them over and kept them from enjoying the nice reunion. “Anyway, why are you in town?” Richie gently tapped Eddie’s hand. 

The strong smell of his mothers perfume suddenly filled Eddie’s nose as he let himself frown. “My mom is sick.” His throat suddenly tightened and he knew it was because the anxiety was trying to worm it’s way into his body again, the subject commonly triggered it. He dragged his pointer finger around in small circles against the cold counter. “It’s nothing serious, I mean I know that but...you know Sonia.” He sighed.

“Boy, do I know your mom!” Richie automatically fell into a joke but realized his mistake when Mike thumped his palm onto the back of his head. 

“She’s really laying the guilt on thick this time.” The misery was clear in his voice and he was kind of embarrassed. “Telling me to move back because she’s very weak-” He rolled his eyes “Your father was sick, Eddie-bear. I took care of him just as I took care of you. I’m sure you’re grateful for that, aren’t you?” He mocked her voice and shook his head. 

“Eddie-” Both Richie and Mike started, knowing exactly where this was going. The panic on the man’s face was clear and sad. 

“I sure as shit don’t want to come back here, guys. Jesus, I hate to think about living here with her again but...” Eddie was finally having the mental breakdown he’d been pushing since just before he left New York. “What if it kills her? Fuck, my leaving again could really upset her and-”

“Hey, hey, hey-” Richie Tozier’s hear shattered into a million pieces and he clasped his hands around his friends arms to calm him. “Ed’s, you said it yourself, she’s not seriously sick. I hate to say it...y’know what? Maybe I don’t...but I hate your mom!” Richie let go to wave his arms and a few people stared when he laughed. Mike gave them a charming grin and laid his gentle hands on both pals. “She manipulates you. It’s all she’s done since we were kids, man.”

Eddie blinked a few times and shook his head. “I know...I know that-...” he shrugged. “But she’s my mom. Shouldn’t that mean something?”

That broke something in Richie. The boy he’d grown up...loving with the entirety of his thirteen year old soul (not that he’d speak a word of that memory), was absolutely wrecked. “It should, yeah-” Richie nodded. “And that’s why it’s so fucking shitty that she treats you like that, Eds. ”

Mike nodded. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your happiness and well-being for your mother. That’s not a good relationship.” He spoke in a more reserved and mature tone than Richie but seemed to be in agreement. 

Eddie slowly nodded and leaned away from their grips. His mind somehow went back to the train-yard and all the childish thoughts of traveling he’d used to express to himself there. Dreams of being a wanderer who didn’t get worked up from simple messes. No, he went wherever the trains took him. He couldn’t imagine having that sort of lifestyle because he was nowhere near the type of person who could handle it. He could barely ask to bum a ride off a co-worker, let alone hitchhike. 

Emmett returned to his mind’s eye, as he so often did these days, but this time he carried a garbage bag as if it were filled with extra clothes. Next to a deserted road, he stuck his thumb out. It was the kind of uncertainty that Eddie couldn’t even entertain at the moment but used to admire as a silly kid. 

Mike took the moments where Eddie was in deep thought to admire the way Richie was so blatantly staring at the nervous man. The wonderful thing was that Mike didn’t need to piece it together like his friends did, he just remembered the way those two drifted together. He wondered if Eddie’s little Emmett friend would help him remember that. “Why don’t you two take a walk? I gotta finish my shift and you have some catching up to do.” 

Eddie shook himself out of thought and smiled. “I could use the distraction.” 

Richie playfully smacked his arm and started ushering him away. “See ya later, Mikey!” He blew several kisses and tried to hide the small blush on his face from the touching. 

Mike had to laugh. 

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

“So why do you want to steal Went’s luggage?” Eddie asked after several minutes of silence which had succeeded Rich’s story about his old gig as a radio DJ for the collage that ate all of his money. 

“Oh, I’m thinking of moving out to L.A.” He nodded. “New York just isn’t my place and I don’t-”

Eddie stopped walking and was overcome with the giggles. “We were in the same city, dude. I’ve been living in New York!” 

Richie let his mouth hang open for a bit. “I wonder if we ever crossed paths.”

“New York is a huge city, Rich. I doubt it.” Eddie shrugged and started up the stroll again. “It’s not like Derry when we were just a bike ride away.”

Richie looked back at Eddie, a pace or so behind him, and was struck with how much he’d grown. Jesus, Richie's world had pretty much revolved around walking him home from school and earning his laughter. And now...Well, there was no school to chase him away from. They were both grown-ups...

“Badlands?” Eddie interrupted his thoughts with a strange sort of laugh. 

“Huh-?”

“You were whistling. You used to do that all the time when you were nervous. Badlands by Springsteen.” Eddie smacked his arm like there was a joke between them but Richie didn’t get it. “Un-fucking-believable.” 

“Ed’s, let me in on the joke or I’ll kick you in the shin.” He pushed up his glasses and pretended to kick out his leg. 

Eddie looked off in thought again like he was debating something but he soon settled on an answer. “It’s just...you carved that song title on my window-sill, remember? So I would listen to it? I found the carving.”

“Ohhhhh, Well, did you listen to it?” he grinned. 

Eddie rolled his eyes but nodded. They kept on walking that natural stride towards the Kaspbrak household while the sky faded into a cloudless blue. 

They hadn’t had a childhood innocence since about thirteen but the simplicity of being young and stupid was to be grieved just the same. Sweaty days of summer spent climbing trees, riding bikes like no damn car was ever a desire...and falling out of trees. All of that was behind them and Richie would be lying if he said he didn’t want just a taste of that kind of joy now. What was the adult equivalent of that nice itch you got after rolling down grass hills all day? ‘Is there a dirty joke to be made there?’ Richie paused. 

“We’re gonna forget each other again soon.”

“What a downer, Eds.” Richie frowned. 

Eddie stopped at the steps of his home and twirled around. And there, sitting on a neighbors porch a few houses away, was his Hitchhiking buddy. Emmett's head was hanging so low that he couldn’t spy his quivering brows or the tired and lonesome frown. He waited for the clown to repeat something or...do something at all but he just sat there on Mr. Walsh’s steps. Dejected and lonely. Longing for something?

‘Fuck’. Eddie realized that maybe he, himself, was the one feeling dejected and lonely. Emmett was a manifestation of his own thoughts and feelings, wasn’t he? And he knew damn well what he was longing for. 

So, with a little skip step, Eddie bounced closer to Richie and fell into his arms.

Richie made an exaggerated ‘oof’ sound but instantly returned the embrace and even rested his head atop the shorter mans. “I’d really like to kiss ya, Eds.” 

The man pulled back and stared at this friend who he’d forgotten and felt all the sentimental love shit that a person could feel. “Do it then, Dick.” 

Richie moved in and kissed him gently. 

And Emmett bled back into Eddie’s mind and away from the real world.  

[maximumkillshot]

Disposable

Warnings:ANGSTY AS SHITT, Dead Reader and Babes... Seriously this one is straight up pain..., Cursing, some fucked up shit in general... You have been warned

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, reader, Sam Winchester, OFC, Castiel,Azazel,  Abbadon, Abbadon as Dean (This is a doozy)

A/N: This is for @stusbunker‘s Break My Heart B-Day Challenge and my prompt was 44. Dean wouldn’t do that!

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

After all of the souls were released, apparently, the void had a few creatures awaken at the same time, that’s the only way this could actually be happening...

“Dean Dean Dean …. You should’ve listened to me.” Azazel tsked my husband as I was paralyzed by unseen forces, “I tell you to stay away… that I had my fun with your father and yet you still keep on coming back.”

“No, we killed you!” My husband screamed, pinned to the wall by the same forces that gripped me, Sammy right next to him.

“Can you ever really kill a demon, Dean?” He grinned as his eyes shined a haunting yellow.

“Let her go!” Yelled Sam.

“Don’t you mean, them?” He grinned as he rubbed my stomach….

“That’s impossible…” I choked out… We were careful…. Except for that one night… The realization hit me like a ton of bricks as I look at Dean who looks like he had just come to the same conclusion as I have.

“Is it?” The demon quipped, “I mean those little lives say otherwise.”

“Take me.” Said Dean, tears brimming from sheer fear.

Azazel starts laughing as Dean said, “ All you ever wanted was to kill us right, so take me, they have nothing to do with it. Take me damn it!” He yelled as he tried to move his limbs.

Sam looked to Dean and back to the demon as he said, “Take the both of us. Two lives for two lives. Just don’t touch them!”

Azazel walked over to them, a knife drawn, “You see I like that idea.” He cut Deans cheek, causing him to hiss.

“But why kill 2 when you can kill 4?” He grinned.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Congratulations, you are having triplets!” The demon holstered the blade and began to clap as he walked towards me, “well… were going to have, rather.” That was when I knew.

I looked back to Dean, he was now full on screaming, “Y/N!! NOOOO NO NO! You SON OF A BITCH I’LL KILL YOU… YOU HEAR ME!”

Sam was stunned into silence… just as I was.

The unseen force peeled me off the wall and brought me to the demon as he sneered, “Then killing both Winchesters by ripping away the only ones they care about? I’d call that a golden opportunity.”

Azazel got behind me as I heard the blade be unsheathed. I looked to Dean and he’s full on crying as well as Sam…

I looked to Sammy and I calmed him, “It’s okay Sammy, be strong, you hear me? Dean’s gonna need you, okay.” I choked as I started to tear, “I love you Sammy, love you so much.”

“I love you too Y/N/N…” Sam started to choke as he said my nickname.

I turned to my husband as I felt the demon put one hand on my shoulder.

“Dean..”

“NO... NO! Don’t you fuckin dare say goodbye to me.” He started fighting as hard as he could.

“Dean” I whispered, crying, “it’ll be okay….”

“NO! Not without you! Without them! I already lost my son I can’t lose you or our kids Y/N/N I’m not strong enough please!! PLEASE!” He started to sob.

“Dean, I’ll always love you, no matter what you hear me? You are my everything and none of this is your fault… move on Baby…”

“NO”

“Dean listen to me…” I said as I shook, he quieted slightly as he fought, “I want you to be happy okay? You are my everything, please be strong… I love you and I’ll love you for the rest of eternity.”

“Baby pleasee!” He started begging, “I love you so much and I will get you back! I love you more than life!” He started to break down.

I felt the blade at my neck as I said, “Close your eyes Baby… It’ll be okay. Just close your eyes.”

Azazel said from behind me, “Say hello to Abbadon for me.”

Then I felt it.

Getting your throat sliced, you’d think it’d be more painful… more… traumatic… It wasn’t.

Sort of like a giant papercut.

“Y/N!! Baby! Noooo!” I hear rushing footsteps as I fell to my knees, feeling the warm liquid fall from my neck, knowing full well, this would be the last time I saw my best friend and my husband.

Before my back could even hit the ground I felt my husband catch me, surround me as I tried to get a breath. Only choking on liquid iron.

“Y/N!” I immediately felt his other hand wrapping around my throat, “It’s okay Baby, it’ll be okay…” He then started yelling, “CASS! CASTIEL! CASS!!”

“Hang on Y/N.” I heard Sam say at my feet.

I heard a woosh as I became obsessed with my husband’s eyes. The same forest green one’s that’d gaze at me as we made love. The same one’s that’d stare at me while I research and crinkle at the edges when I’d tell a terrible joke… I smiled at that as I began to get light headed.

“What happened?!” Yelled Cass as he dropped to his knees next to me.

“Azazel was behind the deaths, lured us, Cass, you’ve gotta help her, please save her. Please she’s pregnant.” Dean’s eyes darted from me to Cass as Cass put his hand over the wound. I felt a tiny bit of warmth, but after that, nothing.

Cass weakened next to me, his eyes still glowing blue, “She’s too far gone, Dean… I can’t… I’m so sorry, Y/N… I’m sorry.”

I looked to Cass to see his eyes clouded with sorrow as I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

I started mouthing ‘my boys’ as I looked to all three of them, blood dribbling from my mouth. Dean read them and petted my hair back, soothing me, “yeah Baby, your boys are right here, we all are, Baby.”

“SSS ‘kaay” I managed to gurgle out… “Sss ‘kayy” I brought my hand up to my husbands face, “Llllooovee y-yoou.” Every time my vocal cords vibrated I felt the liquid fire in my throat. I didn’t care though, he had to know, they all did.

“I love you so much, Baby I love you more than anything, I’m sorry.” I heard him get farther and farther as I started to drift away…

I heard Dean’s blood-chilling scream as everything went black.

When I woke up I was disoriented. I was face down in the dirt, hearing different monsters growl and yelp in the distance. I remember Dean talking about this place, Purgatory?

When I looked down I saw the blood that coated my clothing, most likely mine. I didn’t have much time to gather my bearings as a werewolf popped up out of nowhere. I heard off in the distance… Is that? Dean?

“Look, I know I’m probably falling on deaf ears, but one of you has to be up.. Or down there. Look, I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms, okay? But Y/N… Chuck...Luci...she had nothing to do with this… Neither did our kids. Cass was able to find the triplets but… Y/N” I heard him sniffle… “Chuck... Luci… He can’t find my wife. I’m willing to give myself to anyone that’ll give me back my wife… please.”

It was then that I ran into what seemed to be a mass of human… When I looked up… It couldn’t have been him.

“Sweetheart get behind me!” my husband yelled and I did as he asked.

Immediately the werewolf slammed into my husband and he drove his blade right through it’s heart. He continued to stab it uncontrollably.

“Dean, Dean stop.” I said as I tried to get his attention, when I went to touch him, he turned around and shoved me against a tree. “Dean, it’s me! It’s me Baby!” I screamed at him… Then I heard it again…

“Cass, what can you tell me?”

Then I heard Cass’ voice, “She isn’t in Purgatory…” My eyes went wide as I looked at Dean.

“You aren’t Dean… Dean wouldn’t lay a hand on me  and he sure as hell wouldn’t do that.” I said as I pointed to the mangled carcass…

Dean started to slow clap as my hands were grappled by unseen forces. The more I blinked the more I could see what was happening around me. I blinked once and I saw a flash of lightening, everything darkening.

Another blink and I see the chains suspending my body, feel the hooks as they bite into my skin.

Then on the third one, I see him, Abbadon.

“Well well well...yet another Winchester… What a surprise” He seethes as I blink again and Abbadon takes Dean’s form.

“This is a nightmare.” I tell myself over and over again.

“No nightmare here, Sweetheart.” Dean’s look-alike says as he approached me, pulling a cart full of knives and torture devices behind him, “Now, you get to pick…. What do I do to you first?”

“Fuck you!” I screamed as I pulled at the chains, one particularly painful one hooked into my collar bone wiggled, spurting blood.

“Okay, so I’m thinking the sledgehammer first.” He said calmly as he grabbed the sledgehammer, “You’ll be too tired to scream later, plus… Dean winced when he was cut, but screamed when I broke his bones… I’m interested in seeing what you’ll do.”

I spat at him when he turned around, “feisty… I can see why Dean liked you.”

“Refer to my previous statement, asshat!” I yelled as he lined the sledgehammer up with my ribs…

He shook his head slowly, “Don’t wanna puncture a lung now do we?” He snickered as he realigned the hammer with my kneecap, then taking a swing. A resounding crack was heard but nothing else, I teared up but that was it. I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

Dean started laughing, “Dean basically married a female version of himself. Don’t worry you’ll start screaming soon.” He then swung again at the other knee and I grunted.

________________________

This is the fourth time I was healed. It had to have been at least a few hours, I couldn’t really tell. The next thing I know, Dean’s back. He tilts my head up, “Sweetheart? I came here to get you.” he walked his hands down my torso, now naked because of the number of times this look-alike has carved into me.

“You’re pathetic.” I spat out at him.

“Why do you say that?” The look-alike snickered, “I thought I was doing well.”

“You really think he’d do that?” I laughed at him.

The look-alike smiled, “You think you know Dean so well… But the truth is you never know a person…” He grabbed a branding iron, “Until you break them.”

“You aren’t DEAN!” I screamed as he branded my chest.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll never know the difference.”

________________________

It had to have been a few days… Every day he came back asking the question, if I wanted to get off of the rack and torture other souls. Every single day I told him to shove it. The end of this day was different.

He pulled up a chair and sat, “You know something, Y/N?”

I looked at him.

“I have a feeling that you don’t know where you belong in the hierarchy of Dean’s life.”

I snickered as he began to clean the blood off of the tools.

“ He hasn’t even come for his younger half brother and you think that he’ll come for you?” He laughed.

“His half brother wasn’t there through it all, I was.” I sneered.

“I also find it interesting how Dean is in your hell, and you were nowhere to be found in his. You two were dating at the time, right?”

“What’re you a detective now?” I questioned.

“He’s not coming for you.” He said as he grabbed another weapon, “He can find someone else to fuck. He replaced Cassie with  Lisa, then replaced Cassie, Lisa, and Jo with you… You’ll just be another one in the long line of emotionally compromised and gullible women that will be in his wake.”

I hung my head as he processed what he was saying. He let all of those other girls go to protect them. Why didn’t he protect me?

“He didn’t protect you because you are dispensable. The only things that he really cares about are Sammy and that damn car.”

“Oh so now you can read minds?” I asked.

“Only when you’re weak…” He said as he looked up ...”Looks like he already found a warm body to get cuddled up to tonight.”

“You’re lying” I seethed.

“Am I?” He grabbed my leg and the next thing I knew I was in a motel room with Abbadon. I looked at him and got startled as the door to the motel room opened, a woman walked in who looked like me. Next was Dean…

The woman stared at my husband hungrily, “I’ve been wanting to see what’s under there all night.”

“Well now’s your chance” Dean smirked as he leaned down to kiss her. He kissed her the way he kissed me, hungry, wanting, searching…

“Stop...” I said weakly. “I know this is just a vision, something you conjured up so just stop…”

“Is it really?” he said as Dean’s phone went off. Dean answered.

“Yeah… Sammy I know… Look what I’m doing is none of your business…”

I heard faintly on the other side, “Y/N told me to take care of you, Dean. I’m not going to disappoint my best friend. I know you’re hurt, but come home and process it, Dean… Come home.”

“Sammy if you don’t mind I have some company…”

I started tearing, “Enough!” I screamed.

“Let’s stay and watch.” He stated as Dean hung up on Sammy.

Abbadon made me watch every movement, every kiss and touch until I screamed for Dean to stop. Then I tried to knock a whiskey bottle off of the nightstand, and this time it fell. Dean stopped and looked up right to where I was. Abbadon grabbed my wrist and I was back on the rack.

“Dean wouldn’t do that!” I screamed at him as he sank another hook into my chest.

“You saw it for yourself, Y/N… Dean… He isn’t looking for you.” Then another hook, “He isn’t crying over you,” then another, “Hell he isn’t even destroying something over you… He’s fucking other women, every single night. While you’re here trying to be all noble.” He stepped away as I started tearing up.

He brought the tray to directly in front of me, “ I know you’re not ready to accept the offer so… I’ll just leave this here” he said as he placed Dean’s wedding ring on the tray, “Let you think about how disposable you really are… Sleep well, tomorrow is when we start having even more fun.”

I cried until I couldn’t anymore that night. I screamed, I begged, I prayed.

All I got was lightning… lightning and silence.

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[gearprideproject]

Gear Chapter 4

Welcome to pure fluff with a bit of foreshadowing. I don't think there's really anything here but if I missed something let me know! Love you guys!!!

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

Femi was nervous as hell. She was about to engage in the most important mission of her life- and she wasn’t even part of Gear! 

She was about to propose to Blair. 

Everybody else was keeping Blair busy with mountains of paperwork and wild goose chases until Femi was ready, so she would have a good few hours to prepare. 

First, she had to secure a location- easily done! She had Wren setting up lights at a gazebo in the park, because it had to be done at dusk. The gazebo had been reserved for them a few months back- Blair had simply thought it was for their anniversary and had forgotten it since. 

Then, the flowers. Femi was currently on her way to pick up a bouquet of plumerias, as well as some rose arrangements to decorate the gazebo with. The roses were red, black, and purple- some of Blair’s favorite colors. The plumerias were white and pink- a couple of Femi’s favorites, so they each had something they liked. 

Before the trip to the gazebo, there would be dinner at a fancy restaurant- Femi had to plan a year in advance, so once the date was set, it couldn’t be changed. Besides, it was Femi’s turn to host date night anyway, so she could say the fancy restaurant was her treat. 

And then came the ring. Femi has browsed jewelry websites for ages before she found the right one- it was made of a black metal, with skull embellishments right beneath the dark red garnet- the main jewel. There were other, smaller garnets around the edges. 

Finally, would be the hardest part- how on earth was she gonna make the transition from the restaurant to the park? It was the night of, and Femi still couldn’t figure it out, when a spark of inspiration hit her- she could say that she had seen a few flowers in the park near a gazebo in the park. 

While Femi was panicking and getting everything together, Carlos was picking Blair’s outfit for the night. He knew Femi was proposing, and that Wren would be in the background recording to make sure everyone in Gear knew that it happened. Luckily for him, his sister had all but forced him into fashion, though he would never admit it. For that night, he picked for her a black, a-line dress that had sheer, lace decorated sleeves. The skirt of it reached down to about mid-calf, so she would be able to look good without looking scandalous. He then got to work on Femi’s look. 

While Carlos was raiding the boss’ closet, Zephyr was making sure that Blair was busy. He’d been having her do inventory with him, because she also needed to know exactly how much was needed of each product- they’d used a lot of stuff in their raid against the Dragonfly Syndicate a few weeks back, and their people were coming back oftentimes with cuts and bruises. The fight over turf was astonishing after a gang was wiped out, honestly. Plus, last time she’d ordered for stuff without doing inventory with him, she’d ordered nowhere near enough- only stuff to treat one person from a non-fatal bullet wound. So, as recompense, she was doing inventory with him. 

Others had also helped with keeping her busy today- from armory inventory to a wild goose chase for some eggnog- not something easily found in the middle of March- she was starting to get ticked. 

“Okay guys. We have done literally everything. We did inventory, we checked on the injured, we went down and talked to the prisoners. We have an outline for the next raid, we have probably overstocked our warehouse with everything. We found eggnog in march. We even got nutmeg to go with it. We are NOT going to get ice cream. You are going to tell me why you want a ridiculous amount of sugary food. The last time we brought in this much half of you guys went into a sugar coma and the other half went crazy. I refuse to let that happen AGAIN. Tell me what is going on RIGHT. NOW.”

Everyone froze up. Blair looked pissed. To be fair they knew they could only stall blair for so long on their own. Thankfully zephyr returned at that moment with a mountain of paperwork for blair to go through.

“Hey blair! I found a ton of paperwork that you have to do! It's super important!”

“Zephyr.” blair stared him down with a cool tone. “Where is carlos? And wren? Ans femi? Why have you been keeping me busy with meaningless tasks all day zephyr?”

Zephyr was paralyzed with fear. He knew that blair was scary but damn did he wish he was not on distraction duty today.

“W-well u-um y-you s-see….”

“Yes?” blairs cold gaze tore through him “something you would like to share?”

“I ... yeah….. Um… I found this paperwork…. And well…. You know… it needs to get done?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible liar?”

“No?”

“Well you are. Give me those. I'll have them done in ten minutes. There will be NO ICE CREAM. Am I UNDERSTOOD?”

“Yes ma’am!” everyone replied. Blair grabbed the stack from zephyr before stalking to her office. True to her word she was done in ten minutes. She grinned at zephyr before she said, “play your stalling games all you’d like. It's obvious you guys are up to something. If you need me then don’t bother looking. Just page me alright?” Zephyr looked at her before nodding. Blair grinned before she left.  

Blair was not seen for the next three hours. Everyone was panicking because where could she be? If she finds out about the surprise then everything is doomed! They checked everywhere but it was as if she had vanished!

 Soon enough It was about time for blair to get ready for their date so zephyr paged her. Soon after she reappeared but no one knew where she had been. Zephyr sent her off to ‘go be presentable’ and that ‘carlos already got everything all laid out so just go and be pretty’. Blair found this mildly insulting but she just grinned evilly at him and continued on. Sure enough there was an outfit laid out for her, so she got herself presentable and went to find her girlfriend. Soon blair and femi meet up and it was off to their date!

Naturally they went to the restaurant first. It was a typically high end place that was made for the atmosphere of love. After a candlelit dinner they went on a leisurely walk around the square. Femi was able to get them to the park by talking about the flowers that they had, 

“There were so many pretty flowers and it was all alone, i’m sure it would look amazing under the stars! We just have to go see it blair!” femi exclaimed

“Alright darling” blair said with a slight chuckle. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Noone had missed that blair was now determined to keep femi safe and happy, especially after the incident. Noone would touch her flower again.

“We’re here! Look blair, isn't it pretty?” femi turned to look at blair the light shining in her eyes making her look ethereal. Sometimes blair secretly wondered if femi has any heavenly blood in her, although if she did it would make this a lot more complicated.

“Yeah. very pretty femi.” blair said, although it was clear her attention was not directed at the gazebo.

“Come on blair let's check it out!” femi declared before grabbing blair’s arm and tugging her over. Blair looked at the flowers, is that plumeria? She wondered, but when she turned around she saw femi down on one knee.

“Blair, you’ve been… amazing, throughout the entirety of the time I’ve known you. You are beautiful, and graceful, and so, so kind. You are perfect in every way that I see, and it- you, always make me happy. I love you so much, and never want to be away from you. So that’s why,” she pulled the ring box out of her purse, blushing and smiling, “I ask you, here and now,” Femi opens the ring box, revealing the semi-ornate, black & garnet ring. The smile on her face is a nervous one, and her hands are shaking as she asks, “Will… will you marry me?” blair looks at femi for a whole ten seconds before bursting into one of her rare smiles.

“You beat me to it you beautiful person you. But yeah. I can’t imagine living eternity with anyone else.” 

“Yes! Oh, I was so worried you wouldn’t like it! Wait… did you say I beat you to it?”

“Yeah. I already got a ring and everything but you made the first move… again. One day I'll make the first move.”

“Can I see the ring???” femi asked enthusiastically

“Of course you can it's yours.” replied blair before she pulled out of nowhere a small black ring box. Inside was a beautifully crafted gold rose with a white diamond in the middle.

“Oh blair… it's perfect! I love you so much! Gosh you are just so beautiful i could kiss you here and now!”

“Okay” and they slipped the rings on each other as they fell into a kiss. Back at gear everyone was super glad they had set up the cameras because they got to see this beautiful moment unfold. Everyone was talking about the wedding and just couldn’t wait until that day came. Others, were not so forgiving.

“So femi, you think you can just marry my daughter without permission? Well think again. I wonder why she loves you so much, after all you are just a sad little human. I suppose we will just have to wait and see.”

[askthiscpblog]

Unprecedented Revenge (How Jane Got Into the Mob)

It didn’t take long for her to track him down, never usually does. The trail of bodies with his usual smirk carved into their throats was the best way to track him. The reason why it was easy for her and not for the cops is that she knew where to look next. He has a pattern, a sporadic one but still a pattern. Plus the blood lust gave her the edge, the sixth sense to find him and track him. Sometimes it was good enough to where she could save the person he was targeting. It happened a few times, but sometimes it was too late or after the kill or the initial attack.

Jane was in Houston now which is where she tracked him to. On the outskirts of the city, near the residential areas, she waited. Her mind would wander around, thinking of how to treat herself tonight after she stopped him; even kill him. She thought this every time when she tracked the asshole down, but it never ended up in his death. It always ended in an injury, or someone interrupting them to where they have to break and run away to hide. Tonight is the night she will get him, that she will kill him.

Jeff was walking down the sidewalk of a suburban area in the middle of the night with the moon almost full. It’s bizarre how things are calmer when there is more light in the nightlife. Fiddling with his blade in his hoodie’s pocket, he feels more at ease when traveling with a thing watching his back now. More like over him. It was aggravating that he has to fallow a new set of rules, but a place to stay with food and easy travel is not so bad of a trade.

Jane got to her feet and began to follow the trail that would lead her to him. Wearing some tight jeans and a hoodie of her own, she followed into the back allies and caught his trail. This blood lust isn’t contained by any mortal man, by anything. And so picking up with him, she sees him and begins to trail him now.

This goes on for 8 blocks until he stops at a two-story house. He looks at the top left window, almost like he was staring into a person’s eyes. He starts to whistle a that sounds like ‘she be coming around the Mountain’ and walks to the house. The moment he walks on to the yard, the feeling of being watched washes over Jane like a wave crashing into her.

Jane froze, knowing better than to continue if that feeling won't go away. Her eyes dart around, accustomed to the darkness as she looked for who was watching her. No, no one should be able to see her. The shadows attached to her covered her in the night to where normal people would overlook her. No, she needed to kill him tonight, so she presses on watching him and tailing him. Jeff was already halfway up the house. Grabbing on the smallest gaps with his fingers. He then gets to the top and takes his knife to undo the latch on the window and slide with ease inside. The moment he was out of sight so was the feeling.

Jane ran up and followed up after him, climbing up with no sound as she hung on the outside of the window. Counting to twenty, she pulled herself into the room with a knife out on her side ready for a surprise attack if it was going to come.

It was a little hallway with a door that is letting light out into the hall by a small crack. The whimpering of a girl echos behind the threshold, but the feeling of dread is leaking out as well. Moving through the rooms and followed the feeling, having been through this before. She looks through the crack of the door, seeing if she sees her target on the other side.

Then something comes to her that defies all logic. She is in a graveyard and within 30 feet of her is a girl with her back to her hugging her knees in front of two tome stones. She is in a black dress with a kitchen knife next to her. It was easy to tell who she is looking at. Jane closed her eyes to the image, stealing her will against the invasive thoughts. She’s trained in this, trained herself against things like this. But…when she opened her eyes the images didn’t go away. Closing her eyes again, she tried once more and it failed again. What was going on?

A scream echoes out behind her as the laughter of the mad man follows behind. Within a blink, she was standing in a closet rather in the middle of the graveyard. Opening her eyes and looking through the blinds, she tries to see what might be on the other side. It was close, and she had to focus and steel her will and mind to finish the job.

She was in a bedroom, a master bedroom of the house she assumed. Jeff is making quick work on a middle age man pleading for mercy, but it’s drowned out the killer’s high pitched, insane laughter. On top of that, another sound rung out; metal hitting bone and the slashing of blood.

Jane bursts out of the closet and tackled Jeff in the back, slamming him into the wall with her knife at the back of his neck. Her left arm grabbed onto his left wrist, pinning him as the right one that held her knife made quick work slashing at his back.

“Gah!! Bitch!!” He cries out. With unnatural strength and reaction time, he throws her off and gets back on his feet seeing who his attacker is. He then speaks out. “Well, well. Long time no see Jane.” His unnatural smile widens, splitting his face into two. “I know I’m drop dead gorgeous, but you can at least buy me dinner first.” He joked at her as he kicks his knife back up to his hand.

“Run!” She screamed, knowing that they are either dead or bleeding out. Better to say something in the case. Pulling out another knife, her black eyes flickered and watched him getting into a stance ready for a fight. This wasn’t the first time she fought him, but it will be the last. “Oh fuck off with that, your face looks like dried up worn pussy!”

“Gah hahaha!!! If that the case then at least I get more affection you ever will.” He mocked her.  He gets his knife ready which it gleamed red from the beam of moonlight pouring through the window.

She rolled her black eyes back towards him. “I get more pussy than you do.” She circled him, like a panther watching its prey, her body crouched low waiting for him. That smile, it haunted her for years but now it enraged her, seeing red rather than color as everything came into focus. The shadows crept around her, crawling up as they blurred her outline waiting for him.

He groaned when she did that. He hates it when she does that. He steps over and turns on the plane to bring light to the room. “You know? That worked like 13 times right?” He then takes his free hand and grab the pillow under of the now corpse and throws it at her as hard as he can. Jeff follows behind the pillow after her, going for a tackle.

“Took you that long to figure it out?” She rushed forward and slammed her foot into his groin, spinning off to the side and jabbing out with her off hand to his ribs with her knife.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-“ He yells out form the pain of the kick more than the stab. He then used his knife to return the favor to her, digging in deep then turned the blade. Moving forward, she pushed into her knife and moved off to the side with it, pulling it out the front of his body. That must have been a lung and something else nasty, going to bleed out.

He drops on a knee and looks right at her eyes catching her eyes with his. Something is happening. An overwhelming sense of fear is release locking down her body, paralyzing her. She couldn’t move, she could hardly breathe at this rate! He gets back on his feet with a wide bloody smile. “Got you.”

Frozen, why was she frozen? She got over her fears long ago, why was this coming back and slamming into her now? Watching his eyes, it was all that she could see as the world warped around him and she tunneled versioned. The world slowed down as she watched him get back to his feet, he towered over her.

He saunters over to her and stabs into her chest 3 times with rapid succession, one right after another. On the 4th he seems the freeze in place as well, able to see his reflection in her blackened eyes. “Shit……..that’s new.”

From the pain, it broke her free as she lunged forward onto him coughing up blood. Her knife plunged into his chest again, rushing him into the wall as she screamed at the top of her lungs. “You will die tonight you bastard!” Pulling out, she plunged it back in again, and again, and again. Tossing the knife aside, she grabbed onto his hair and twisted him over her body, slamming him into the ground as she collapsed on top of him slamming his head into the floor again and again and again.

His hand wraps around her throat squeezing it as it crushed her windpipe and ones again overpower her. “You think those sissy hits will stop me!?” He spat his blood in her eyes and gets his fingers of his other hand in her chest wounds and starts to tear the flash off. “Now this! This is how you hurt someone!”

No, this isn’t the right time anymore. Jane launches herself down and buries her face in his neck and bites down. Into the side of his neck, right where the carotid artery is. Then tears it out of his neck, in her mouth, blood dripping down her body. His blood.

He laughs at the primal display of the woman. His own vision was begging to blur, the blood loss and hard breathing getting to him. Supernatural help or not, this shit hurt and was getting to him. “Kinky!” he yells, trying to show that he wasn’t weakening. Still taking his eyes to show more rage than anything else, but life is fading from them. This is what the definition of a monster. He rips a chunk of flesh off her and throws her to the wall back on her feet. He then pulls out an extra knife and goes after her heart as he staggered back to standing position.

“GO TO SLEEP!”

“Never! Not until you die first!” She lunged on the ground at him and pulled out a knife of her own, gripping onto his wrist as she kicked him in the groin again. He should be dead by now, the blood loss alone should have been enough. Hell, she should be dead by now. In the morning they for sure will both be dead.

He keeps going. He grabs her wrist fighting back the knife. Would have been easy, but was losing strength as time on. “Hell no! Are you fucking nuts!?” He was talking, screaming, but not to her. He tries to lock eyes with her again. Hoping it will give him the moment break this struggle.

Jane doesn’t look into his eyes again, moving forward as her breathing became more labored and tired. Her vision was blurring and darkening around the edges, but this bastard wasn’t dead yet. She reached forward pushing against his face trying to get him away from her. The feeling of people watching her appeared again, and the sense of dread if filling the air, thickening it like a smog spreading over the land. Jeff pushes back with the last of his strength at the woman. His grip tightens like a bear trap. Blood is oozing out of his mouth. His eyes are now more dark and animalistic.

Jane felt her airway tighten, unable to breathe anymore. Her eyes locked with his as he got up higher, looming over her. Her mind flashes back to that day when he burned her, tortured her. Now she couldn’t get it out of her head. Even if she dies tonight, she feels like it is almost bittersweet that she dies by his hand. No…not sweet. All bitter. But at least he will die too.

As he overpowers her knowing her to the ground with him on top of her stomach, not breaking eye contact. He raises his knife high ready to strike her. Face, but he seems to be hesitating….. no frozen in place. That’s when the air loosen. As if it never happens, but that feeling, the feeling of her own soul is being watched and judged is unreal.

Jane shoved him off of her, panting a feeling her blood leave her body. So much blood gone. Oh God, her vision was still black, but she was breathing now.

‘Good evening Miss Richardson.’ A disembodied voice rang in her head. Not sounding neither male or female. Her head turned to face them, blinking, gasping. She still couldn’t see, dying, bleeding out onto the ground. ‘No need to be an alarm. I am here to offer you a deal. One, in fact, that can save your life.’

"Wh…what…?“ She blacked out, the blood loss getting to her. A blacken void is around her not indicating what is up or down. The only thing that’s seen is a bright tunnel from a distance. Heading to it, not sure what is at the end. Even if she isn’t moving, she is willing herself forward. Through threshold, she is once again standing outside right before she enters the house. All her wounds are now gone, even including any trauma to the body from the fight. Jane lets out something she has been holding, her breath she didn’t know she had. Now she knew she was being fucked with, but with what she had no true clue. 'Okay, what the fuck is going on?’ she thought. 

The voice once again rings in her head. 'Like I said I’m here to offer you a deal. Please come inside.’ The door to the front of the house opens up. 'And do not worry about Jeffrey. He will not bother us.’ Jane pulls out her knife that was on her hip once more, not sure what to do about this situation. If this guy kept dicking around with her head and what was going on, she didn’t think this will end well.

'Please put that away. There is no need for that. All I wish is to talk, but if come with hostility then your life will be forfeit.’ The sensation of being watched has appeared again, but this time from all around her, as if she’s surrounded.

"Yeah, but I think if I refuse I will die anyway. So if you can do all this, what is a little knife to you?” she responds, heading into the house with the knife in her hand. She wasn’t going to attack, but she wanted it to keep it out to defend herself.

'It’s a matter politesse.’ As he enters the living room a tall faceless man in a jet black suit with a crimson tie sits in an armchair before her. He is illuminated bug a small lit candlestick on the table next to him. He gestures his arm to the couch next to him. 'Please sit. I made tea.’

“Politeness can only get you so far,” she responds, seeing the creature before her. It was stunning to see something like this, having never seen anything that wasn’t human. Being thrust into the supernatural world was hard enough on a girl, but seeing supernatural creatures is something else. Jane does, head over and sit down but refuses the tea.

'I have been keeping track of you for some time and heard story’s from Jeffery. I can already without a doubt that I like you more than him.’ He sips his tea despite the lack of a mouth.

"And it was tonight that you decide to mess with me? We have met many times in the past few months alone.“ She admitted, looking unsettled.

'I wanted to see what you are capable of and tonight was also the right time to look into your memory’s. I see why you want to kill him, but I can not allow such a thing to happen.’ 

"He deserves it for everything he has done to me. To others that I couldn’t save, and those I did,” she says, bringing her knives up to look more defensive.

'Calm yourself, child. I may not allow you to kill him, but I do have an offer that is too good to pass up.’

“Why would I entertain such an offer?”

'Instead of killing him. Be in charge of him.'

“WHAT!!!????” Jeff’s voice rings out from upstairs"In charge of him? That is to good to be true.“

“Hell no!!!! Shit!!!” The sound of a loud crash came from where Jeff’s voice originated. The tall figure speaks to drown out the outer noise. 

'Yes. You see I’m setting up operation and I am in need of capable people to help run it. Jeffrey is useful as an enforcer, but you know magic along with sharing the same phenomenon that infects him. Yet you are not as violent as him. At least when you don’t black out.' 

She looks up to the sound, giving an eyebrow raise to it all. "Sounds like you already have people to reign him in. Why me? Because of the phenomenon, or because you know I can take him on one v one?”

'The ones that are taking care of him are my proxies they are under my servitude. I need someone that can watch Jeffery like a hawk. He keeps getting into trouble. Also, that phenomenon is the only thing that’s keeping me from infecting both of you with my influence then that means my competitor can’t do the same.’

“Your competitor?”

'We both come from the same Origin, but our outlooks are very different. I wish to warp the minds of humans and further my power. He wants to heighten his power by warping the very being of humans to the point of extinction. I know my reasoning does not sound pleasing to you, but that’s how I work.’

“….you think I am going to join you because I can boss Jeff around and make his life hell?”

'Knowing how spiteful you are to him, yes. This is a world that monsters roam and organizations try to tap into their power. Such as Liquid Hate.’

“…you got that shit right. Where do I sign up?"

Somehow she can tell he is smiling. 'All you most do is shake my hand and tell me the spot where you wish to be marked.’ His arm stretches out to her. Waiting to take her hand. Jane puts the dagger away and takes his hand with a firm grip. "My back, right in the small of it.”

[milkcartonbastard]

Demons Can Suck It

Fandom- The Umbrella Academy (Klaus Hargreeves)

Warnings- Violence, death descriptions, possession, and descriptions of past drug abuse.

Notes- Requests are open and  really love The Umbrella Academy.

~~~~

   Klaus had only ever seen one demon in his lifetime. Only one and that taught him everything he needed to know about them- not to fuck with demons. He'd read a few YA novels about people who fell in love with demons, who loved them despite their partners being 'incapable' of love. That crap sounded like some creepy brainwashing scam: Klaus knew the authors of those books had never seen real demon. He knew those authors had no idea what they were talking about.

   Klaus had spent years trying to erase his unwanted visitor from his mind. He'd never meant to see it, never once even thought the word in his mind until it was too late. The demon hadn't even appeared to him in particular. The demon was attached to an older man, draining his life-force much faster than poltergeists or malevolent spirits had ever dreamed about.

   As soon as Klaus- small, eleven year old, Klaus- had laid eyes on the demon, it turned and looked at him. Klaus felt the freezing temperature of its gaze sear into his soul. For some reason, Klaus could feel his body and soul blocking the demon's ability to leech onto his life-force. The demon seemed to take that as a challenge and left its original prey's side. Klaus could remember the oozing darkness surrounding the evil looking man- demon- and remembered the way its crooked fingers reached out for the collar of Klaus's uniform. 

   But that was so many years ago, so many drugs, liquor bottles, and overdoses ago that Klaus had almost forgotten the face of his living- undead?- nightmare. Especially with the whole 'End of The World' shebang happening- the main reason for Klaus's drug-abuse was forgotten. And then there was Dave, the promise of seeing the love of Klaus Hargreeves's life overshadowed any terrifying demon that Hell could throw at him. He wanted to get sober for Dave, which meant any reason for using was out of the window. Plus, the horror of losing Dave stained the back of Klaus's eyelids, meaning the grey face of that demon- who had haunted him for so long- was not pinned to Klaus's closed eyes like a family picture on a cork-board.

   Maybe it wasn't just Dave that caused Klaus to forget the demon. Maybe it was the fact Klaus had started using soon after his cold-companion joined him. Which was true, Klaus had barely turned twelve when he'd discovered the sweet release of copious amounts of narcotics. He'd erased all of the spirits from his sight- demons included. Who knew drugs could shield demons from his eyes? His powers were muted for the first time in his life and he'd never felt better. Klaus regretted ever letting that go. 

   At least, in this moment he did. 

   When he'd woken up that morning, Klaus had been fine. He'd stretched his arms over his head, and reveled in the warmth that waking up with clothes on provided him. Sure, he hadn't slept the best, but this sobriety and recovery thing was full of baby steps. When Klaus had turned his face away from the wall beside his bed, he'd been met with the worst surprise of his life. Standing- hunched slightly at the shoulders- was the demon. Klaus's heart pissed in his lungs- fear spreading through him like a nuclear bomb. Klaus's knees began to tremble as soon as the demon wiggled his crooked fingers at him. The demon tutted, waving morbidly at the middle Hargreeves child.

   Klaus dropped like a ton of bricks, a deflating balloon sound falling from his lips as he decended. Klaus was now sitting in the floor, his back pressed against his mattress and his bedside table. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms were locked around his torso. The blue flannel shirt he'd been sleeping in had his fists clenched in the material. He was shaking, absolutely petrified of what he was looking at.

   The demon from so many years ago was standing against his closet, staring him down with a crooked smile. The Demon's void eyes stood out viciously from the dark circles under its eyes. Mutilations covered its face, making it look like Frankenstein before the stitches came into play. The gashes weren't bleeding, only open and red looking. Its skin was grey and the three inches of air that surrounded it was the purest shade of black that could have existed. Klaus watched the air spin and tumble around the demon like it was in a bubble. 

   Klaus opened his mouth to scream for help, to scream for somebody. Fuck, even if Luther was the only one to show up Klaus would be thankful. But what would they be able to do for him anyway? Shout at an empty space by a wall and look at Klaus like he was crazy? No, they probably wouldn't be able to do anything but try to unfold Klaus's limbs from himself and talk to him. Anything was better than be alone with the demon by his closet. Klaus tried to scream, but that deflating balloon noise was all that fell from his lips. He felt tears well up in his eyes and he felt ten again. He felt helpless and like he was locked back up in the mausoleum for the first time. Or the escape room. Klaus would have shuddered if he wasn't so paralyzed.

   Just like the cherry on top of an already shit cake, the ghosts that lumbered around the Academy decided it was time for Klaus's morning torture. They appeared one by one- screaming incoherently and gesticulating wildly to Klaus. Klaus thought if he ever died and met someone who could see the dead, he would do them a favor and fuck right off and away from them. He wished the ghosts here would do the same thing.

   "Oh, good. You're awa- Klaus? What's wrong?" Klaus's deflating balloon sound almost became one of relief when he heard one of his brother's voices. It was the late Ben Hargreeves, standing at the entrance of his room and staring at him with concern evident on his face. Klaus continued staring- his chest beginning to heave up and down with a new fight for oxygen.

   "De-demon. Its back." Klaus breathed out the words, his mouth barely moving. But Ben heard the words as clear as day. Sure, he'd never heard Klaus mention a demon before, but he saw the look on Klaus's face. He was terrified and Ben felt like he would do anything for that look to go away. It almost made his still heart break. 

    Ben half expected for the demon to be a crimson red color or to have a scorpion's tail. When he looked at the demon, he was surprised to see a normal-ish looking man. The only demon-esque features on it were the two horns curling backwards on its head. They laid on its greasy hair, poking out of the black, oozing, aura around it. Ben never saw its black eyes leave Klaus's face or the twisted smirk on its lips fall. 

   "Conjure me and I'll get help, Klaus! Do you think you can do that?" Klaus inclined his head minutely and Ben went on. "Conjure me in fifteen seconds for as long as you need. I'll get help."

   Ben took off, his ghost legs carrying his dead body as fast as they could. He knew everyone was at breakfast, since it was early in the morning and it was a habitual time that they ate. Even after Reginald died, some things didn't. Like the fact that nobody had set foot in his office since Klaus had stolen the box holding his research book and pawned it for cash. Grace was the only one who set foot in there- but only just to clean. Pogo still had free-reign, but he opted to avoid that part of the Academy. 

   Ben took the steps down two at a time- almost feeling like he was racing the others during practice or getting ready to go on an important mission. But he had a terrifying feeling deep in his gut. Klaus could see demons? There was a demon in Klaus's room? The words 'Its back' sent shivers tumbling down Ben's spine. How long had Klaus been facing that thing alone? Ben felt goosebumps explode over his skin and noticed that he was glowing blue. Klaus had conjured him up. Somehow it didn't feel like the other times Klaus had conjured him. The blue energy around him didn't feel rushed- it almost felt locked and secure. Yet, Ben wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

   "Guys! Klaus needs help. Come on!" Ben skidded into the kitchen. Sure enough, all the siblings were sat around the kitchen table in their usual spots. The room was tinted blue from the Klaus's power connected to Ben. Sleepy faces turned up towards Ben's glowing blue form and their eyes widened in unison. Luther and Allison were sitting beside each other. Allison's white bandage was no longer on her throat. The stitches had healed wonderfully and there hadn't been any incidents with the wound splitting open. It was healed, but she still couldn't speak.

   Diego was out of his seat and crossing to Ben before Five and Vanya had a chance to process the words coming out of Ben's ghostly cotton-candy colored mouth. Five lowered his cup of coffee, giving Ben a curious look. Vanya's hair was pulled back from her face and her eyes were barely opened from her short time being awake. Still, the words caused her to perk up tremendously. 

   Vanya had been training with the others to control her abilities. She was progressing a lot and could control them without her violin now, without going dark side. She was kind of like Thor after he lost Mjolnir and was able to control his powers without her. Klaus had been the one the make that comparison, which Ben laughed along with. 

   "Come on! Let's go!" Diego barked out the words and the others got moving. They all raced toward Klaus's room and Ben told them about the demon that had appeared to Klaus. They all quickly discovered that things weren't going to be easy. Ghosts illuminated in blue light were all over the halls and walking around. They were all screaming- the quiet house was quickly becoming an earful. 

   "What are those things?" Luther yelled over the screams. Everyone's hands were crushed against their ears, trying to dull the screams.

   "They're what Klaus sees. They are the dead." Ben said. A weight fell on the siblings shoulders. That's what Klaus sees? Allison's mouth was agape. A little girl in a flowery purple dress was standing at the top of the stairs and looking down at them. Her mouth was twisted open in a wailing motion. All Allison could think of was her baby girl, Claire, millions of miles away from her. The little girl's dress was splattered with blood and her big, green, eyes were crying rivers of tears. Her throat was gashed open wide, like a second mouth wiggling out unheard words. Allison felt her own throat tighten at the sight. 

   "No wonder he's so... Klaus." Vanya's brown eyes were glossy as she tried not to look at the dead. The siblings kept going, pushing through the crowded hall. A scream sounded out- much louder than the other ones and much more emotional. It was Klaus, screaming from inside of his room. 

    Diego was the first to arrive, Ben a very close second. A man had Klaus pinned against the wall by his throat. Klaus's face was quickly turning a soft purple, the veins on his head were starting to rise and poke at the surface of his skin. He gasped, his mouth trying to form words. His hands were wrapped around the demon's, glowing a bright blue. 

   "Klaus!" Diego grabbed a knife by his side and slung it in the direction of the demon. The demon held its rotten hand up and deflected the small silver blade like it was a piece of paper. A dark, black, eye winked at Klaus before dropping him to the ground. Klaus scrambled, not even taking time to catch his breath. When the tip of his purple painted toe-nails left his room, the demon moved his finger in a single, fluid, motion and sent Klaus flying backwards. He crashed into his wall with all his writing on it. It crushed underneath him, sending spider-web cracks up towards the ceiling. 

   "Klaus!" Luther yelled and hurtled into the room. The demon flicked his finger and Luther was sent backwards too, knocking the others down and against the ground. Ben stood up first and snarled at It. The angry look wasn't a common one on the sixth child of the Academy's face. Ben threw a punch, his arm only managing to get twisted behind him and his body thrown against the wall. 

   "Get Klaus and go!" Diego hissed the words to Allison and Vanya before standing up again. He launched himself at the demon, sending knives spiraling through the air kicking madly. The girls grabbed Klaus by his arms and hauled him to his feet. The three darted out of the room while Luther and Diego kept the asshole's attention. 

   Allison hit Klaus's arm while they were running down the stairs and towards the exit. She made a face that said exactly what she was thinking: "Why is there a demon after you?"

   "It can't feed off me and It's angry. I've been eating my body weight in crack since I was twelve, so It sorta disappeared for a while there!" Klaus dodged around the full-bodied spirits standing angrily in his home. The dead were still screaming and crying, something that Klaus was slowly getting used to. Vanya flinched every time a new scream echoed.

   Suddenly, with a loud and unexpected cry, Luther was flung over the railing and began descending rapidly. Allison managed a quiet and strained gasp when his large body crushed the couch beneath him on impact. The three siblings hurried down the stairs and scrambled to check on him. He was brushing dust and wood chips off himself when Diego came flying over the railing too, just as fast and heavy. Luther's arms wrapped around his brother's torso and caught him before he landed and hurt himself on the glass coffee table that had been replaced since Hazel and Cha Cha had attacked the Academy. Diego gave an indignant huff before pushing Luther off him.

   Like It hadn't even broken a sweat, the demon came floating over the railing and towards the ground. The cries of the dead sounded more panicked now, like they could sense something wasn't right. Klaus was pushed behind a dark clothed body, his older (number and relationship wise) brother standing protectively in front of him. The demon stared at them all, like It was plotting Its next move. 

   "Stop using your power! You're just making it worse." Five jumped in front of Klaus- coming out of his neat little portal. Klaus's hands were still lit up blue. He wasn't even doing it on purpose, either. He'd barely managed to conjure Ben up, but then had never been able to sever the connection.

   "I can't! I'm not even trying to use it! I can't turn it off!" Klaus shouted out the words, panic lacing his voice. The demon's mouth regained that crooked smile It had earlier. It was hard to know exactly who It was looking at, but those fully black colored eyes locked on to Klaus. It wasn't until the demon moved forward that Klaus realized it wasn't him.

   The demon took Diego's chin between Its forefinger and thumb and lifted Diego's face to match Its. The demon pressed Its lips quickly against Diego's and disappeared. Diego stumbled backwards, but Klaus wasn't close to him anymore. It was like Diego had a hologram inside of his body, shining blue and looking out at the room. Where the hologram's head moved, so did Diego's. They were in sync and Klaus felt sick.

   "It's possessing Diego." Klaus strained the words out. Ben was staring, wide-eyed, with the rest of them. They all watched, dumbfounded, as Diego's arms moved up towards his face. He looked at his hands and arms with a new-found interest. Slowly, the blue and black hued demon twitched and flickered until it disappeared completely. Instead, blue veins began to race up Diego's tanned skin and under his black combat uniform.

   "Holy shit." Five cursed out. Diego flexed his fingers and Klaus was lifted off the ground by an invisible hand. They all stood around, not knowing what to do to the demon since It was now inside their brother's body. 

   "What do we do now?" Vanya asked. She almost expected them to tell her she couldn't do anything, but then she remembered her newly trained ability and that she was in-fact part of the Umbrella Academy now, in all shapes and forms. Vanya looked at Five- hoping he'd give one of them an order.

   "I was going to ask for this little cupcake and then leave, but you all feel so good and that's making me feel real good." Diego cracked a smile, his teeth now rotten and crooked like the demon's had been. Dark circles were under his dark eyes and the blue veins on his face were pulsing darker shades. "So I might just stick around."

   "That is... so messed up..." Klaus choked out. His face was the same purple shade as before and he was thrashing madly. Vanya was staring at Diego, along with all the others, but she was listening to the screams of the dead, the noise wrapping around her mind. She felt her hair curl and uncurl slightly in the new, invisible, wind. She watched as she wrapped her invisible hands around Diego's body and threw him against the wall- not hard enough to cause damage to his body, but just enough to throw off the demon inside of him. Klaus immediately dropped to the floor, which prompted Five to wrap his arm around his midsection and jump with Klaus in his hold.

   They reappeared in the garden house upstairs. Klaus was gasping, trying to get oxygen back into his airways. Five was crouched down and holding Klaus by his shoulders.

   "Shut it down. You have to shut it down." Five motioned to the blue light shining from Klaus's fists. Klaus shook his head wildly.

   "I don't know how- it's not like there's a manual to this!"

   "Diego is in trouble! You have to!" Five was stern, but faltered when Klaus shook his head again, his wavy hair flopping around.

   "That won't stop the possession! We have to split them apart, bu- but  I don't think I can do that either." Klaus sobbed dryly, no tears appearing. He flexed his fingers outwards, flattening his hands out. The connection didn't even waver. 

   "Something is holding it open! I don't- I don't know!"

   "Calm down, Klaus! Calm down. I'm taking us back and I need you-" Five grabbed Klaus's chin and made him focus on what he was saying. "I need you to focus on getting your powers under control. Understood?"

   "Okay, okay. I'll try."

   "Is there anything you think you can do to get rid of the demon? Anything that Dad taught you or made you study?" Five asked. Klaus stared at the intensity on his brother's face and began to calm. Five was making a plan and Klaus was going to listen. No more look-out business. The danger was already in the Academy and Klaus was going to have to be the only one who could really get rid of It.

   Klaus thought about his powers and everything he knew about them. They didn't work with drugs!

   "Drugs! I just need drugs! My pow-"

   "No! The demon will just come back when you are sober and be pissed, right?" Five asked.

   "Yeah, but it could give us time to prepare and research!"

   "That's Plan Z. We are at Plan B and that is last case scenario. No drugs. Got it?" Klaus nodded compliantly. "Use the connection to your advantage."

   With that, Five clapped his hands around Klaus's wrists and jumped back downstairs with his brother in tow. When they reappeared, it was a lot worse than when that left. Diego had black veins on his face and his eyes were that of the demon's. It clicked for Klaus that the demon was tainting the connection and had been since Klaus had opened it. Ben's blue hue was a much darker blue than the cotton-candy color it had been. 

   Klaus had been dropped off at the balcony, now being surrounded by the dead. Their colors matched Ben's. It was affecting all of them. The dead weren't focused on him. They were all standing at the edge, pressed against the railing, and had their mouths open in a constant scream. They were focused on the more powerful entity of their kind- Diego.

   Klaus slunk backwards and pressed his back to the wall, crouching slightly. He thought back to all the trainings he had with Dad and his powers. He could see the dead, he could talk to the dead, he could conjure the dead, and he could see their deaths in live action if he wanted. These were the talents he knew he had, but that was it. How was he supposed to get the demon out of Diego?

   Like a cruel answer to his question, Vanya came flying over the railing of the balcony, over hanging the living room, and landed next to him. She sputtered for a second and gasped. Luther was charging Diego now, so the demon's focus on Vanya went away. Klaus thanked the little girl up in Heaven, riding her bicycle around and hating Klaus's face. 

   "Vanya! I need you for this." Klaus turned to her, still crouching, and held his hands out. She took them and began to crouch with him.

   "Okay."

   "You can drain energy, we've seen it during practice. I need you to drain Diego and his new guest while they are together. I have to split them apart and sever the connection. Okay?"

   "I don't know. I get energy out of that and I have nowhere to send it. I could bring the whole place down." She was suddenly just as panicky as Klaus had been with Five. Klaus had this feeling swimming in his gut and he new it was because he saw her as a younger sister. He hadn't when they were younger, only because he had been high all the time and saw everyone as a rather bad buzzkill. He took her hands, just as Five had done with him.

   "You shouldn't get a lot of energy from this, because you don't need to drain them. You just need to weaken them. Use the energy to pin the demon against the wall when I separate them, so that it doesn't jump into another one of us. Do you think you can hold onto the energy until I get them split?"

   Luther came sailing over head and crashed into the wall a little farther down. He waisted no time brushing the plaster off of himself and jumping back down to the living room. Vanya sucked in a breath and nodded slightly.

   "Okay. I think I can do it. Let's go before he throws Luther at us again."

   Klaus grinned and grabbed her hand. They snuck down the staircase that went to the kitchen and would spit them back out into the main hall, where they could enter the living room. Once there, Vanya concentrated on the erratic beating of Diego's heart. The demon was busy trying to block Five's blows that were only meant to distract it.

   Vanya began to feel energy piling up on her chest, it wasn't a lot at all, so she kept pulling. A white line had them connected now and Five was sending more blows, landing a couple. Diego's blocks were beginning to get sloppy and Vanya kept pulling. The beating of his heart was slowing and she kept her focus.

   The black veins covering Diego began to lighten up. They were a deep violet now and his eyes began to flicker. Klaus needed to split them now, so Vanya could pin the other before she hurt Diego.

   Klaus clenched his fists now, focusing on the connection and the two spirits stuck together. He could feel the demon's spirit, but not Diego's. He kept searching, coming up with nothing. It wasn't working. Klaus felt his control over his powers flicker, the connection the demon had stuck open was still that- stuck open and as tainted as ever. 

   "Klaus! Klaus, come on!" Ben was yelling at him near by. Diego's eyes snapped to Klaus and Vanya now, understanding why Five was beginning to get the best of him. His violet veins were pulsing when he held up his hand, the one that wasn't throwing Five against the nearby wall. Suddenly, the spirits on the balcony began to spill over the railing and into the living room. They were animated now and Klaus knew damn well it wasn't his doing.

   "Oh, fuck!" Klaus started to pinwheel backwards, his feet slipping with his effort to get his body away from the angry looking dead. They looked like the ones in the mausoleum that Sir Reginald had shoved him in and they started to feel like that too. Panic was building up inside of him again and his hands went slack.

   Klaus couldn't do this. There was no way and he knew it. This demon was going to play with them until it killed them all one by one, using their brother's face while they did it. And it was all Klaus's fault.

   Plan Z.

   That's what popped into Klaus's head and he turned on his feet, ready to race through the house and to the sibling's rooms, where he knew he had at least one balloon of heroin sewed up in a stuffed animal he'd given to Allison for safe keeping. She didn't know that, of course. It was just a cute little stuffed zebra to her. 

    When Klaus was almost to the door, a voice called out.

   "Hey, doll. Where ya going?" 

   Klaus's chest felt like he had been punched by Luther. Oh, God, was it really? Klaus turned around, expecting to see Diego standing there, looking at him with the demon's words taunting him. But he was wrong.

   "Dave..."

   There he was. Dave was standing there with his army uniform on. His black shirt had a couple holes in it and blood was seeping from his wounds, but Klaus had never been happier to see a dead man. Dave smiled and shook his fist at Klaus. He was teasing Klaus in the only manner that Klaus had ever been teased and not taunted by. It was a loving one.

    Dave was not glowing the color of the rest of the spirits. He was a beautiful, cotton-candy, blue. Klaus's hands shot up to the dog-tags he was wearing around his neck. They were Dave's and he never took them off. Dave was wearing Klaus's still, just like he'd been doing for weeks before he'd died in his lover's arms.

   "I missed you so much." Klaus was throwing his arms around his dead boyfriend and every muscle in body was on fire as Dave wrapped his arms around him. Klaus breathed him in and could smell the smoke from the war and the cheap deodorant that the army had supplied them. He smelled like home. 

   "I missed you, too." He pressed a soft kiss to Klaus's mouth and gently placed his hands on Klaus's cheeks. Klaus had a few tears there and Dave wiped them away with his thumb. It was rough and Klaus was on fire with the love he was feeling.

        "Klaus! I can't hold this anymore! Split them! Now!"

   "You can do this, doll. I know you can. Help them." Dave kissed him again and pushed Klaus towards Vanya. "I'll wait for you right here."

   With those words, heat flared inside of Klaus and he clenched his fists again. He turned to Diego, who looked like he could topple over at any second and was only standing because of the demon. The white line that was connecting him and Vanya was thick and she had a lot of energy swirling around her body.

   The ghosts were fighting his family and Ben was in the corner by himself, looking sick and like he was fighting with himself. He was under the demon's control and was trying not to unleash his monster on his siblings. He was barely hanging on, because a tentacle was shooting outwards and being pulled back in, only to try and get out again. It was getting farther each time.

   The screaming was unbearable and some of the spirits were coming towards Klaus. Fear skyrocketed though him, but before they got to him, Allison was there and batting them away with a leg of the broken- once again- coffee table. 

   "Klaus!" Vanya sounded desperate now and Klaus locked eyes with the demon, who looked like he was getting a second wind. Klaus could feel the icy-fire inside of his body rising and could feel his fists glowing. He closed his eyes and could feel Diego's spirit, it was weak, and the Hell spawn's; They were overlaid like two cards and Klaus focused on driving his powers between them. They didn't budge.

   A hand slinked around his waist and Dave started to whisper in his ear. "C'mon, doll, you got this. Think of your happy place. That's what I do when I need to get control over myself."

   Klaus sighed deeply. Happy place? His happy place was a little house in the forest, surrounded by wildflowers. It was a yellow house with one bedroom, which is where he and Dave would be laying with a plate of bacon and a tv that only played classic movies. They had all the time in the world and nobody to interrupt. Klaus felt his powers surge and Dave's hand left his side. 

   When Klaus opened his eyes, his sight was clearer and sharper than it had ever been and he could see It being pulled out of Diego. It felt like pulling a string out of a stretched sweater and suddenly, that string snapped and Diego dropped to the ground and out of Klaus's sight. The demon was staring at Klaus with wide eyes. The ghosts went quiet and Klaus saw the demon went back to his power's blue and not some tainted connection. 

    Vanya tightened her arms around herself and almost aimed at the demon. As soon as she did, she yelled and the demon was slammed against the wall opposite of everyone. Klaus threw his arms open, his green eyes were still locked onto the demon's black ones. Its horns dug into the wall, peeling up the wallpaper and digging into the plaster. The demon flexed and sat up against the wall, but Vanya tilted her head and he slammed back against it and Vanya pushed It up the wall, causing Its feet to leave the ground. It was pinned five feet off the ground.

    Without severing the connection, Klaus opened his fist again and held his left hand up. Good Bye flashed out and that hand glowed brighter and brighter until the demon had to shield Its eyes. Klaus wasn't aware of anything around him but the icy fire rushing through his left arm and the weightless feeling washing over him. He was rising to the demon's level and suddenly, the light from his hand caused a blue flame to appear at the demon's legs.

   For one of the first times in his life, Klaus was truly in control of his own powers. He felt the control settle over him. He did not crave drugs and he felt the fear of this monster in front of him dwindle down to nothing. He was not going to feed the demon with his fear of the dark or his fear of It. He was going to do something he never had done before. He was going to kill it.

   He was going to kill It for himself, but there were more important reasons to. He was going to kill it for tossing Luther like a ragdoll, for using Diego like a puppet, for scaring Allison, for hurting him, for besting Five, for causing Ben to fight with himself, and for daring to challenge Vanya. He was going to kill It for hurting his family- and that's what they had become in the time since the Apocalypse had almost happened, since Diego and Klaus had busted Vanya out of that stupid box and saved her from herself. They were a family.

   "Go to Hell." Klaus spat the words. The demon's eyes widened comically and the blue flames burning at Its hoofed legs, rushed up Its body. The demon was seared into the wall until it exploded in a cloud of blue and red flame. The air cleared and so did Klaus's mind. Klaus let his right fist unclench and the connection relaxed back and stopped. Ben disappeared for the siblings, along with all the spirits in the living room.

   The ground rushed up to meet Klaus and he felt the impact of the ground. Six faces appeared above him, all covered with shock and concern. Klaus laid on the ground, next to the broken couch and the busted coffee table. His entire body was tingling and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable with their questioning looks.

   "Is there any bacon in the kitchen? I am starved." Klaus put his hands above his stomach and twiddled his fingers while making a grumbling noise. Diego scoffed and gave him a lopsided smile.

   "Did you know you could levitate?" Luther asked. Klaus's eyebrows shot up and he sputtered. That explained why he fell from a high place and why the demon was below him when he'd killed It. 

   "I'm just full of surprises." 

    "Who's the guy you almost killed Diego for?" Vanya wiggled her eyebrows and Klaus scrambled up. His siblings jerked their heads up and backed away. Klaus's eyes scanned the area and landed on the only ghost there, besides Ben. Dave was still smiling and had his hands in his army pants. Klaus felt his shoulders relax and the biggest smile he'd ever produced under this roof came onto his face. He rushed forward, his hands lighting up blue and collided with a solid formed Dave. Ben had appeared too, but he was the only other one. 

   Klaus kissed Dave's shoulders and the base of his throat and his cheeks. He peppered him with affection and Dave devoured it all. They were both giggling and hugging the other one.

   "I told you that I would see you again. I promised, didn't I?" Dave asked. Klaus nodded and laughed hard.

   "If I recall correctly, you didn't believe me when I said I saw dead people? Bet you feel really smart now." Klaus teased. It was true, but Dave had believed him and they both knew that. Someone cleared their throat behind the two and Klaus reluctantly released his love. They held hands and had their shoulders pressed together. 

    Allison made a gesture and Klaus smiled brightly. "This is my boyfriend, Dave Katz, from Vietnam. He died and I got sober for him. There."

   "Vietnam? When did you go to Vietnam?!" Diego asked. Ben's eyes widened. He'd known that Klaus had time-traveled and managed to lose Ben for a while, but he didn't know he'd been to Vietnam of all places.

   "When I stole that briefcase from Hazel and Cha Cha after they kidnapped me. I travelled back to 1968 in the middle of the war. I met Dave there and became a soldier." Klaus explained and gave a sloppy salute with his clenched left hand. The others stood dumbfounded.

   "Why didn't you travel back? What happened?" Vanya asked. Klaus looked down at his hand clutching Dave's. They were both glowing and Klaus was starting to feel tired but he couldn't let this go. The contact meant so much.

   "I didn't want to." He mumbled. He smiled again, still genuinely happy. "Now, about breakfast."

   Ben laughed and strolled over to the two and looped his arm around Klaus's shoulder. They were a family alright. A dysfunctional one, but a family.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Start of a Renaissance

Start of a Renaissance - Kidge Month Day 19 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Continuation to my Day 9 fic, found [here]. After the fall of Voltron against Lotor, the universe is sent into chaos. As things fall apart around them without the powerhouse mecha to defend them, Keith does what little he can to help the struggling masses to survive. But, sometimes, even the darkest of nights still have a few stars to help offer some kind of hopeful glow. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

The universe was burning to ash all around them, and Keith Kogane was to blame.

After Pidge usurped the position of Black Paladin from him, he, Krolia and the young wolf had left. Romelle, despite her gratitude to the Kogane’s for all they’d done in helping her reveal Lotor’s betrayal, insisted she was going to stay on the Castle of Lions. He didn’t necessarily blame her; with three of the typical six residents comatose in the healing pods, and the other three struggling to keep things going, they needed someone else to help keep them grounded. Plus, he wagered it was probably her wanting to be with the only Alteans left outside of her colony. It may offer so small comfort to her, given she could never return to her home proper now. And so, with nowhere else to turn, their small group retreated back to the Blade of Marmora main base.

And from there, he had a front row seat to watching the universe burn to the ground.

Word that Lotor’s behemoth of a Robeast had decimated four of the five Voltron Lions spread fasted than he could have imagined, and the backlash when it was revealed that it was Black Lion, the leader of the team, that had survived by not even partaking in the battle, outrage had spread. No one knew him as the Black Paladin any longer and, due to the full knowledge of what transpired between himself, Team Voltron, Lotor, and the possessed Shiro, all of the adoration for his old friend had evaporated overnight. Why would the well-loved and noble leader of Team Voltron abandon his team in a fight against their most fearsome foe yet? It was unthinkable to those that had once rallied behind them, and discontent had spread.

He overheard that planets started to slowly back out from the Coalition and had felt sick. All the hard work that the other Paladin’s had put in to building their reputation, to inspiring the masses across countless galaxies, had been wiped away carelessly. He tried to argue whenever the chance presented itself, but it was infrequent that the other party would hear him out. He spoke out, screamed the truth of what happened, tried so hard to make it known to all that encountered him that they were wrong about Shiro and the others. However, they all just saw him as some heartbroken moron unwilling to accept the truth. No one wanted to defend the previous leader of Voltron and what his mistakes – mistakes that were Keith’s and Keith’s alone – had cost the universe.

In the time to follow, there was no word of what had happened to the Paladin’s, nor any sign of Team Voltron itself. He wasn’t even sure if Lance, Hunk and Shiro were still alive, or if their wounds had been too much. Any attempts to reach them were met with nothing but static or outright blocks. He encountered Matt, once, while trying to coordinate with the rebels in regards to evacuating a planet near a battle waging between Lotor and the Galra. The look of pure scorn on the others face had been worse than a punch to the gut, and when he tried to ask what he knew about Pidge and the others, he got one of those for his troubles, too.

But that had been nearly four years ago, he thought.

Things had gone from bad to worse following the stories of Voltron’s horrific, embarrassing defeat. Lotor began his hostile takeover, intent on ridding the universe of all that would oppose him. Without Voltron to stand toe-to-toe with him, though, the only hope they had was the Galra Empire itself. For the first two years of the frantic war, as everything on the coalition side burned to the ground, becoming scattered remnants of what the Paladin’s had built up, the universe found itself hoping for the Galra to take the tyrant down. It felt repulsive to be hoping that people like Sendak would thrive and smite Lotor, but it was their only hope at any kind of success.

The Blade had been forced to change tactics upon Lotor’s bloody rise and battle against the Galra Empire. All they had been working towards was suddenly impossible. They were no longer needed to tear down the Zarkon’s regime, and any Blades that had toed the line close to the new threat were disposed of post-haste. Lotor’s hate for his own kind was prominent in everything he did, and his desire to rid every nook and cranny of the universe of them was apparent. Thankfully, the Blade members were able to make a switch to a new approach that allowed them to remain in the shadows; rescue and evacuation efforts. It was difficult with no other organizations to assist, but they were at least trying to assist those affected by the two powerhouses of villainy duking it out throughout the universe.

But then Lotor had unleashed new, powerful machines near identical to the Sincline on to the masses, powered and controlled by the Altean colonists he’d kept tucked away for so long. The Galra Empire was quickly disposed of after that. Many had perished in the slaughter; including a few he’d met through the Blade. The closest it got for him was Adwru, another of the younger Blade members, crushed under falling ship debris while helping to evacuate a city. There were other Blades lost, countless innocent lives snuffed out by Lotor’s warpath, and all the while he wished that death would grip it in its cold grasp.

It seemed, in that moment, his luck had run out.

Beside him, one of the small children he’d been trying to lead to safety clutched to his leg, eyes wide with horror at the metallic beast looming above them. The poor thing couldn’t have been much older than the human equivalent of three. In the distance he could hear the horrified shrieks of the child’s parents, trying to break them from their stupor and call them to safety. He tried to guide them away but he could fell them shaking, paralyzed by their fear. A part of him wanted to shout at them to let go and run, to find some way to kick their flight or fight reflex into gear, but he had learned that sometimes it was of no use. He reached out, gripping the small tot and hoisting them into his arms. He was going to have to make a break for it, try to at least get them closer to their parents.

The Robeast shifted, moving to swipe at him, when a loud, furious roar pierced the air around them. There was a rush of wind as something huge flew overhead, the wind current strong enough that it sent him toppling over on to the ground. He kept his own body above the child’s, pinning them close to shield them as much as he could, while his pulse pounded in his own ears.

It couldn’t be, could it?

That first roar was followed by four more, all just as furious, and there was another rush of wind around him. He waited until the wind passed to push himself and the child upright again, their parents rushing over to take them. He handed the child over without argue, offering a shaky smile at the sobbed ‘thank you’s of their parents, the three of them clutching to each other as tight as they could. He motioned them back, heading towards the slope the natives had been evacuating through, and paused at the peak to look over, unbothered by how sand was kicked up around him by the wind whipping around him.

There, firing and charging at the Robeast, were all five Lions of Voltron.

Only Black Lion maintained the integrity of the designs as they’d first known them, the only one that had escaped that battle so long ago, though there seemed to be upgrades made to her claws and fangs. Green, Red, Blue and Yellow were all repaired using some kind of gleaming, silver material, patching them back together almost like spots in their old respective coat colors. Almost all of Red Lion’s head was composed of the new silver color, with only a few strips of red left, as well as one of her back legs being completely replaced by it as well. Blue Lion’s eyes had been replaced with some kind of bright green material and her entire hindquarters had been remolded with the new mineral. There seemed to be small plates flattened along her front and back legs, but due to the outlining on them it seemed to imply they could protrude if necessary. Yellow Lion’s entire bottom jaw, as well as most of his bulky back shield. Furthermore, it seemed he’d been given additional shield plates all long his back, glinting in the bright sun beams above them. Keith watched, stunned, as Blue fired a laser shot at Yellow, only for it to bounce of and pierce into the shoulder of the Robeast. The entirety of Green’s breast plate had required replacing, as well as her back plate that had once formed Voltron’s shield, and her right eye had also been replaced with the same material as both of Blue’s. There was a strip of the silver material along it as well, standing out like a scar that matched her old Paladin’s.

A part of him had wanted to almost laugh at the irony of it, but he was too stunned to see them in action.

They moved in perfect harmony, just like he remembered, ducking and weaving and charging in when another had to take a step back. It was stunning to see them in battle again for the first time in nearly half a decade. Had they found another comet to rebuild them? And were the new upgrades a side effect of that, or a new direction the team decided to go with the Lions? Another of the Blades seized up his shoulder and yanked him over the other end of sand dune where the crowds were gathered, all peering over smaller slopes to catch a glimpse of Voltron.

“Is it true? Are those the Lions of Voltron?”

“Our prayers have been answered!”

“There is hope again! Voltron had finally returned!”

He peered over the edge, stunned to see the Lions taking the Robeast down without even needing to form Voltron. He watched as they tore the thing to part, the whole spectacle reminding him of a documentary he’d seen in his youth of real lions on the savanna. The denizens around him cheered in delight and joy, some of them even sobbing in their pure glee. Keith himself could feel the spark of hope flickering to life inside of him. Once the Robeast was completely incapacitated, the Lions trotted away, sitting in the same half-circle that they typically did. They all lowered their heads one by one, dropping their jaws so that their Paladins could walk out.

The Blade member that had pulled him over the dune nudged him, “Sir? Should we go introduce ourselves to them?” they asked. It took him a moment before he realized that the young rookie was actually Bopud, one of the few Blades he worked with frequently enough to recognize.

His stomach roiled uncomfortably before he nodded. “Yes. Have one of the native leaders come with us, as well,” he said firmly, pushing himself upright and starting to head back over the dune. He waited for a moment as the younger Blade followed after, helping an elder of the group make her way over. Once they reached level ground, she was able to use her came properly, but he and the other Blade stayed close by, just in case. His hand itched to pull out his mask and place it on, in hopes that it would help to make things go easier, but he knew better. Pidge would be able to pick him out of a crowd of Blades in full ensemble in less than a minute flat.

Instead, he kept his shoulders squared and tried to keep his expression composed. With each step, however, it grew harder to keep his resolve.

As they got closer, the five Paladins removed their helmets and he was surprised. Allura still sported the pink armor of before, as well as a short bob hairstyle, and a few more scars from whatever had happened in the time between their return. The big thing that caught him was that she was no longer in charge of the Blue Lion; instead, she had been the one to exit Red Lion. He was filled with a brief sense of pure horror at what that could mean, but was then relieved when the Blue Paladin’s helmet was pulled off to reveal Lance. There was a jagged scar along his left cheek, starting just below his eye, and cutting in a wide mark all the way down and across half of his neck. He couldn’t even imagine how painful that wound had to have been, or how long it must have taken to recover from. He also noticed the other walked a bit awkwardly, as if one of his legs was stiff and needed to wake up. A quick glance revealed it to be his right leg, and he had to swallow back shame at the realization that he’d most likely needed to have the whole thing replaced.

He had figured that Hunk would still be piloting Yellow, but was surprised to see that it was instead Romelle. The young Altean had some smaller, fainter scars on her face, most likely earned in her recent beginnings as a Paladin, but seemed rather upbeat about everything. She was speaking excitedly to Hunk, who was now wearing green armor. He watched as the other man reached up, tampering with some small devices hooked into his ears, before answering her. Hearing aids, he realized, and felt like he wanted to run. The fact that someone as compassionate as Hunk, always willing to listen to other people when they needed him, had lost his natural hearing as a result of his injuries made him feel sick. Other than that, he could see the tail end of a scar sticking out from under his signature headband, cutting through his eyebrow. Additionally, the normally boisterous and lively man seemed more subdued, more introverted.

And, lastly, there stood the figure of the Black Paladin herself, Pidge Gunderson.

Much like Allura and Romelle, there were more scars on her. He could definitely say that her right eye had been replaced with a cybernetic implant that looked realistic. He could only tell because of how it gleamed with a glass-like sheen in the bright light of the sun above. Her hair had been grown out and tied back in a bun behind her, and he had to admit that the black color of her new armor complimented her nicely. She was quite a bit taller than last he’d seen her, thought she still stood a bit shorter than the others on the team. Even still, something about the way she was carrying herself - shoulders squared, head tilted up, face schooled into a composed half-smile - seemed to just scream to all of them that there was no doubt which Lion she helmed.

“Hunk, were you able to do any kind of scans on that thing when we took it down?” she asked, turning her attention to him beside her.

“Yes. It seems that, much like with the last one, there was a living form inside controlling it,” he said coolly, pulling up a small holoscreen.

“Which means that our theory is basically confirmed,” Romelle said softly, voice catching with fear. Hunk reached a hand up and settled it on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze and small smile when she looked at him. She smiled back and nodded. “You are right, Hunk. Thank you.” she said softly, reaching up to set one hand atop his.

Pidge nodded before turning to Allura, the young woman already pulling up a holopad of her own. “I have already sent the information along to Coran and Shiro on the Atlas. They will be able to safely retrieve the Altean from inside the cockpit and transport them to the medical bay,” she explained. “Once we return to the ship, before they awake, I will see to removing Haggar’s poisonous presence from them. Allow them the chance to recover fully from everything.”

“You’ve already done so much in the last two days, though, Allura,” Lance commented softly.

“I agree with Lance,” Pidge said with a quick nod of her head. She turned her attention to the young man. “Lance, send work back to Luka and see if she feels comfortable helping this one on her own. She was able to successfully do it the last three times without Allura intervening, correct?”

“Indeed. She’s been the fastest when it comes to learning from Princess Allura,” Romelle said happily.

“Well, of course she’s figuring it out. With a teacher as incredible as Allura, how could you not?” Lance chuckled, pulling up his own holopad and beginning to click away at it.

“Lance,” Allura said with a small giggle, looking away bashful.

He offered her a small, genuine smile of his own. “I’m just telling the truth,” he hummed.

“Paladins?” Bopud asked softly, taking a step forward to get their attention. All five turned to face him, and Keith saw them move from Bopud, to the elder, before landing on him. The spark of recognition that flitted across her eye was quickly replaced with scorn. The only one who showed any warmth for him was Romelle, who meekly raised one hand and waggled her fingers at him.“We are with-!”

“With the Blade of Marmora. We are well-aware,” Hunk cut in flatly.

“We worked with the Blade, long ago,” Allura said, her voice a bit tight. She stared at Keith hard before turning her attention to young Bopud. “We have also heard that the Blade has been doing what it can, where it can. That has been comforting, considering we have been repairing the Lions so we could battle properly.”

Bopud seemed to brighten under the slight praise before indicating the elder politely. “This is High Priestess Guuiel, who has been in charge of the planet,”

Guuiel raised one of her hands up in greeting. “I never thought I would live to see the day the Paladins of Voltron would return. Bless you all,” she said softly.

Lance offered a small smile before stepping forward, offering an arm to her and taking her cane with the other. “You must be tired from everything that’s happened. Let me help you back to the rest of your group, so you can rest a bit. Once the rest of our team gets here, we’ll also be able to properly tend to the sick and injured among you,” he said.

“Oh, why thank you, young man! Such a sweetheart you are,” she mused as they headed off. Romelle was just a few paces after them. Hunk and ALlura, seeming to sense the tension between the other two, guided Bopud away, Allura inquiring into the type of equipment and resources the Blade had been using to assist the masses in the last four years.

Pidge stayed rooted to her spot, one hand resting against Black’s nose, staring him down. “I’m surprised you’re alive,” she commented evenly.

“I could say the same to you,” he admitted, trying to get his posture to relax some. He knew Pidge wouldn’t actively attack him; not without being provoked, as least. “Considering how Matt reacted when I asked about you and the team, I kind of assumed…”

She laughed outright at that. “Ah, he actually listened to me! I told him to give you a nice one if he saw you before I did,” she hummed. She then turned to look back out at the other Lions. “It took a lot of time to get the Lions to where they are now. But… Much like a phoenix, the Lions have been reborn from the ashes of what they once were. Interesting what a little bit of teamwork can do, huh?” she said, finally letting her hand slip away from Black. Then, without another word, she began following the path the others had started.

He watched her go, a dull ache in his chest. Once again, it seemed he’d be left in the dust.

[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 7

Wordcount: 2,258

The reader is referred to as she/her

Looking at him was certainly not a favor for sensitive eyes. His hair was a mop of styled gold, unnaturally bright for his olive-hued skin tone. Hot pink shades sat atop of his hair and little glimmering rhinestones engraved on the sides were shining at you like they were literally glowing. His crisp white shirt was cleanly pressed with not a speck of dust or a single wrinkle. Not only was it too blinding for the human eye, but it would also wash you with the feeling of being under-dressed. Even in the darkest hours, he still managed to look that good. It was just the moral he lived up to - instead of 'dress to impress', he altered it to fit his persona with 'dress to depress'.

You ran over to the door and swung it open, only to be engulfed in a tight embrace which knocked the air out of your lungs upon contact. Bringing your arms around him to squeeze him back, you were consumed in the sweet scent of perfume. "Oh my god, bitch. I missed you so much! Why didn't you call me?" He exasperated, pulling away to be met with your relieved smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry Flavio! I was busy with work and other... Circumstances." You replied, darting your eyes all around the place as you finished your sentence. Whispering under your breath, it came out as an anxious wheeze. "... What are you doing here...?" Fumbling with your fingers, he immediately noted the sweat that was amassing around your forehead, as well as the apprehensive build-up of testosterone sourcing from the kitchen to form pulsating waves of it to consume the room. He left you there without another word, and taking long strides, he stopped abruptly by the kitchen with a face contorted with disgust. His bright velvety red irises flickered down at the corpse-like body lying on the floor. "What happened to him?" He pointed with his long index.

A huff escaped Allen's lips and he folded his arms together, letting his narrowed gaze run off to the side. You rubbed your arms and kept your head down. Flavio coughed and rolled his eyes at you all. He pulled out a pink vial out of nowhere, pressing down on it a few times to let a baby pink mist spray out and disappear into the air particularly around Alfred. "Gross." He murmured. Judging from the tense atmosphere that just fell around you all, it was clear that Alfred was attacked by either one of you. Clearly, it would not have been you, so all his bets were laid out for the redhead brooding in the corner. He threw his hands up in the air. "Look, I don't even wanna know."

You shrugged and felt a sheepish smile pull on your lips. "I'm sorry that you had to see this."

Flavio shook his head. "It's totally fine, I guess." He shrugged. "I'm kinda used to it. I just don't wanna get near him with these clothes on."

A few dry chuckles fell from your lips. "Oh, okay."

"Mhmm." He hummed, extending the 'hm' longer than needed. Strutting over to you and resting his arm on your shoulder, his striking red eyes caught yours in a softened gaze."Look, baby. I don't wanna intrude on you for too long, but I'm gonna have to steal a few minutes of your time."

You nodded slowly with your brows knitting together in confusion. "Sure...?"

Flavio slapped you on the shoulder and ushered you into the closest separate room, which happened to be Allen's. That left him standing there in silence, lingering his eyes over his own door that just clicked shut on him with them narrowed slightly. A few coughs and splutters rung in his ears, forcing him to let his head fall down to Alfred on the floor, getting comfortable as he slowly regained his consciousness. His lungs and throat gurgling with the metallic flavor of iron, so he leaned forward onto his knees to let the foreign substance flow out of his mouth into a little crimson puddle to the floor. "... Eugh... That was gross." He mumbled, coughing his lungs out immediately after.

Allen felt his eye twitch in annoyance. "You're cleaning that up."

Alfred collapsed on his back and groaned. Allen watched with crossed arms, the stone-cold poker face engraved on his features not faltering the least.

"Really?! But you just nearly fucking killed me!" The blonde screamed with a vein popping around his neck. Uneven breaths were sucked in sharply as gunmetal blue eyes were set ablaze with white-hot fury. Only then was he able orientate himself, the memories of fists colliding with his face entering his mind in sharp explosions of pain. As he struggled to get back up on his feet, the sight of his cousin not moving a muscle to even help irked at him.

"Whatever." He huffed. "Don't expect me to mop it all up, you spewed your shit on the ground anyway."

Alfred shook his head slowly. "... Unbelievable."

Flavio pushed you into Allen's room and he shut the door, spinning over to you with vivid fear swimming in his orbs. "Oh my god, are you okay?! You weren't hurt by him were you?" He whisper-shouted, attaching a firm grip on your shoulders and shaking you. "No--" He continued rocking you back and forth so violently that you felt a wave of dizziness consume your brain. "Christ, stop shaking me for Pete's sake! I'll puke all over your clothes!"

All activity in his arms ceased, but his hammering heart didn't slow. "We don't want that do we?" He breathed.

A silence ensued and you just shrugged.

"No..." You whispered.

His lips stretched into a wide smile for the briefest second before it faded away into a frown. "Okay, I have something super-duper important to tell you. Absolutely critical!" He hissed at you. "The break-in that happened last night at your house, it was done by my brother... And his squad."

Allen scoffed. "That's what you get for kissing (F/N)."

"What the hell? You're such a sore loser." Alfred hardened his stare at his cousin. Allen walked off to the pile of bags sitting in a mound and heaved them one by one over his shoulder like sacks of potatoes. "Oh yeah? This ain't a game anymore. And plus, it looked like you stole that kiss judging from how shocked she looked." He shot back. "Can't you at least wait a fucking week or something before you get your hands on her? She's really stressed right now about this whole ordeal, and you're not helping."

Alfred darted his eyes off to the side and sat on one of the stools. "You're just jealous I got to kiss her." He mumbled under his breath out of Allen's earshot. "What are those bag's you're carrying anyway?"

"... They're full of her stuff. I can't keep letting her wear my boxers you know." He felt himself smirk at bringing that up, and yes, he did offer you his underwear. It was another way to press at Alfred's buttons by pulling out another one of his 'best friend' cards. Allen honestly didn't mind letting you use his stuff at all, he loved it because you were relying on him... It filled him to the brim with overwhelming joy. "Not that I mind."

"Oh my god." Alfred grumbled, feeling his skin prickle and burn at the waves of triumph radiate off that smirk.

"That's right, cuz'. I've been playing this game for far too long." He winked.

"I thought you said this wasn't a game anymore-"

"It's an expression, you dumbfuck."

You were glazed with a layer of cold sweat as you were thrown into a pit of betrayal. "Your brother?" You uttered. "But why?"

Luciano, his name was. A man of power you had no idea of who worked in his own mysterious ways- you considered him just as ambiguous as your best friend, if not more. Only a few times did you run into this sharp-tongued Italian, and he would always leave without a word but with a mischievous but patronizing glance. It would always leave you nothing but intimidated and your curiosity craving for more. Recently, however, in the last few months, he'd linger his half-lidded magenta orbs over you similar to that way a predator would stalk its prey. It sent you so many mixed signals, concoctions of vengeance, fury and even lustful intensity.

Despite not knowing anything about him but his name, you almost automatically associated him as relatively friendly as he was related to Flavio. How did you already rub him in the wrong way?

"I'm so sorry that you're confused and all, but there's a good reason he did it," Flavio replied in a softer tone, "Luciano isn't holding anything against you personally, but he's doing it because..." If he was in his car, he would have just wound up in an endless road of obstacles and stumps, eventually slowing to a halt. He was undergoing intense contemplation on whether to tell you the true reason because it was more than certain to him that it'd ruin something, someone, special to you. "... Um..."

"Well, what is it!?" You hissed with burning anticipation.

A sheepish smile adorned his lips as he twiddled with his fingers. "Well, uh, um..." Beads of sweat began trickling from his forehead and a bright red blush glowed strongly off of his cheeks. You leaned into him and scrunched up your shirt to create wrinkles. The decision finally struck him to not tell you and he let out a high squeal. The cloth of your shirt was damp from your clammy hands by then, and you were slammed in the face with disappointment when he took off in a frantic sprint. "Ican'ttellyouit'sconfidentialbye!"

"Hey! What the- Get your ass back here!" You screamed after him, charging at him as he bolted out the room. The door slammed in your face, paralyzing you from the explosion of noise for a second before you ripped it open. In this second-long duration, Flavio was granted the opportunity to finish his duties for today. His blonde curl bounced in rhythm to his movements as he ran up to Allen and pulled him down to his level.

Cupping his mouth as he leaned into his ear, he whispered something fiercely into his ear. Alfred watched from the kitchen counter with a brow raised. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't able to catch what the man with shades was saying behind his hand. Whatever it was, it was not good news. Allen stood back up straightly at a tantalizingly slow pace, his eyes widening to dinner plates with absolute terror. His thundering heartbeat was pounding so violently in his head that it sent trembles to shake at the matte black shades sitting in his ruffled maroon tresses.

"Oh, shit." He breathed, clenching his fists into balls that were so tight his knuckles turned white. He flicked his head to Flavio and stared at him with pleading orbs. "Luciano's after her because of-"

Like you were the devil, you came bursting into the vast living space everybody else was currently situated in. That immediately zipped Allen's lips. Said boy whisper-shouted to the blonde next to him again. "Don't. Fucking. Tell her." He hissed lowly.

Flavio nodded quickly. "Right. Right. I won't." With that, he turned on the spot and made a beeline to the door and out of this conflicted hell hole; out of Allen's reach before he would get strangled.

"What the hell was that?" You exclaimed, the fly screen swinging back into place.

"Nothing, babydoll." Allen coughed.

Alfred hummed and popped a cookie in his mouth, munching loudly. "It wasn't nothing."

Allen shot him a dangerous glare before facing you again. "Yeah, um. He just told me that Luciano was the one who broke into your home." Sharp and direct, but lacking immense details.

"Did he tell you why though?" You asked.

He shook his head with a smile. "No."

Strange. Allen's never smiled like that before. His lips were twitching and his eyes were closed. "Oh, and you know the bags I just brought in that have your stuff?"

"Yeah. They have my things right?" You replied with a soft smile. "Thanks a lot, by the way."

Alfred continued to fish his hands around the plastic container of Chips Ahoy. Popping in one after the another into his mouth to distract himself from the excruciating blue and purple markings scattered all over his face, he was no way in hell prepared for the words that were about to be uttered by his cousin.

"Yeah, no prob. But what I'm trying to say is..." He strolled over to the marble kitchen counter and slammed his hands down on it. That sent a jolt to rocket through the blonde's body, and he clutched his cookies closely. Propping his head up with his elbows to face you, he continued. "Don't bother unpacking them."

You craned your head to the side. "... Why?"

Something that could be identified as a clashing combination of reluctance and mischief glinted in his blood red irises as he flickered them to Alfred, whose cheeks were puffed up like a chipmunk. "That's because we'll be going someplace for a while." He replied, slowing Alfred's chewing. In that moment of time, the two cousins' minds synced. Alfred tilted his head away from him with a contorted expression that literally screamed the one thing on Allen's mind. "We're gonna go crash Alfred's."

[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin | Chapter 23: “In Search Of Tomorrow”

Pairing: Kol x SalvatoreSister!Reader

Chapter Summary: With victory in mind and a vicious Mikaelson breathing down her neck, the reader learns that revenge and victory always comes with a price...

Warnings:  major angst, talk about death and dying, some slight..gore-ish things happening, canon divergence (as always) and of course my mediocre writing

Word count: 3850

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Open Coffin Masterlist

Recap:  There is sweetness in this victory, knowing that Klaus will never again have the chance to punish Kol for the fire and fury cursing in his veins, nor for his desire to live free and on his own terms. Never again will he have the chance to torment your brothers or the miserable people in this miserable town. And never again will he have the chance to store away is own siblings while living on without a care in the world.

Never. Again.

With trembling hands, you turn to your brothers to share your victory,

But it’s not Damon’s chilling blue, nor Stefan´s comforting shades of green that you lock eyes with, it´s the paled ember glistening with darkness and despair.

“What did you do?” The distraught sound of Elijah´s voice sends ice cold, neck hair-raising shivers down your spine. He’s not supposed to be here.

Just run.

Run as fast as you can.

Your name: submit What is this?

He is getting closer, all fire and fury, thunder and lightning. The wind moves with your speeding form but does nothing to aid you. Rushing through the woods, it claws like a thousand hands. Your feet slip on the wet autumn leaves as you round the corner, the cold evening air shocking your throat and lungs as you inhale deeper, faster.

One more corner and you´re safe.

There it is, in the distance. The Boarding House.

Rushing through the front door you briefly wonder if Stefan and Damon already ran for the hills, leaving you to deal with the aftermath yourself. Wouldn't be the first time.

“Y/N?” Kol´s familiar voice, asks and you turn around. His demeanour is somewhere between angry and sad as he stands there rubbing his neck. What will he say now if he finds out you went against is pleading to stay your hand.

“We have to go. Now!” You grab him by his hand, pulling him to the backdoor.

You make it about halfway, before the front door smacks against the wood panelling behind it, revealing Elijah´s illuminated silhouette.

At that moment Kol knows exactly what happened. He ushers you behind him, sheltering you with his body. His brother would not harm him. But would he harm you? He cannot be sure.

“Brother..” Kol says, his tone cautious but alerted all the same.

“You gave me your word,” Elijah says, the tone in his voice leaks sadness and just the right amount of seething anger to send shivers down your spine.

“And I didn´t break my word. I told you Kol wouldn't be involved. He wasn't.”

Elijah drags his tongue over his bottom lip “And despite my brother's relation to you, you decided that murdering Niklaus unjust would set you free? I believe you made a grave error in your search for happiness”

“Oh, for god sakes, spare us your indignation,” Kol says, throwing all precautions out of the window. “In your foolish efforts to redeem his soul you´ve grown blind to his wickedness. I haven´t. Nik met the end he deserved. ”

“He deserved death rather than the chance of redemption?”

“It's no more than he's done to us. Or have you forgotten the darkness the dagger brings? That aching feeling of being trapped in your own, vicious mind? It's like an endless death, is it not?”

Elijah doesn't reply, instead, he reflects his pause to the nearing silhouettes that brace through the fog

“Gentlemen, I suggest you choose your next movements very carefully.”

“You think we're stupid enough to kill you right now?” Damon scoffs as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind. It has. Of course, it has.

“Yeah, no offence” Stefan weighs in “but you’re like a dog in a cage right now. “

“Plus, we don't want Barbie Klaus on our ass” Damon says, remembering his run-in with Rebekah only a few hours ago.

“More importantly” You add, “We don't have anything to settle with you. Question is, where does that leave us?”

Kol keeps a watchful eye on his older brother, as Elijah ever so slightly shifts the weight on his other foot. Is he going to attack?

“I did not come to harm any of you, ”Elijah says

“Yeah right.” Stefan huffs.

“I came here to revel in the fact that you, your brothers and everyone Niklaus has turned will not survive the night.” He says, his demeanour running into something more sinister, joyful even “Not even you can undo the fate you designed.

“What are you talking about?”

“When one of us dies, every vampire in our sireline will die with us. Finn's death was prove. They perished within hours.” Elijah explains ever so calmly “So you see, there is no justice to be had in death, but you will die all the same. Not by my hand, but your very own.”

You feel like as though you have been slapped. Guilt, guilt, guilt - it's like gasoline in your veins.

“You're lying.” You grit through your teeth.

“I am a man of my word.” Drawing in a breath he turns to face Kol with a somewhat uncertain look dwelling in his eyes. “I trust you have to say your goodbyes.” With that Elijah bathes in his unwanted glory built of grief and despair and makes his exit,  ignoring Kol's pleas to explain what he knows.

When Elijah doesn't reply, Kol steps forward ready to follow him.

“Wait!” You say, grabbing Kol´s wrist “Don’t go. I.. maybe there's not enough time-“.

. “I will come back. I promise you.” He says reassuring you with a smile he could barely force. He has to get to the bottom of this. And fast. Before... No, he doesn't want to think of it. Not even for a second. With a kiss on your forehead, he slips out of your grasp, leaving you with only the house draining away, hauntingly reminding you, your life would be nothing but a memory soon.

Tick tock, tick tock….the clock's ticking for you now.

---------

Nothing but heavy silence is settling around you. The cruel void lies like poison on your skin, digging into coursing through your blood, paralyzing your brain.

You lift your head resting on your crossed arms, letting your eyes glide around your room. The pictures that once graced the walls are now shattered on the floor and with them, a dozen sheets of paper with barely a sentence written on them before they were crumbled up and thrown amidst the chaos. You tried to say your goodbyes on paper in case your time would be up sooner than expected. But you failed miserably. How is one to say goodbye to someone they promised to never leave again?

So this is how it ends.

Perhaps all those philosophers, writers and poets were right. Perhaps vengeance demands two graves after all. One for one´s nemesis and another for oneself. In your case, there are thousand more graves you'll soon have on your conscience, and with them your brothers….and Mae.

You doomed them, to follow wherever monster like you end up. And you doomed Kol as well.

Your petty revenge will launch him into a spiral of undeserved blame. He´ll take the fault on himself, and it will consume him, chew him up and spit him out.

But none of this is his fault.

And you hope you get to tell him before your time is up.

With a heavy sigh, you bury your head your hands, resigning from the world.

This is a mess. A self-created, lethal mess. And the worst is, Klaus was right. That bastard was right, he is always one step ahead. What a fool you've been to think you could ever win.

Shifting your head, your daylight ring digs into the side of your face and you look at it, and for the first time, it's nothing but destains the ring has to endure from your gaze.

“This is only the beginning…..” That is what Stefan said when he handed you this ring, shortly after you were turned. He was electrified by the new lifestyle. Having just killed your father he felt free and newborn.

Look where it got us, brother.

Without a second look, you slip it from your finger and throw it amidst the chaos and it disappears somewhere in the paper and glass.

Immortality……..what a lie.

--------

Kol has no fear, or none he would ever disclose to others. He holds up his tough front no matter if it's friend or foe he's opposed to.

He has no fear.

Not even death scared him, she has been dancing around him in his most violent times appreciating his work, yet she cannot grasp him and pull him in the deepest darkest depths.

He has no fear.

But when he looks into your room from the slightly ajar door, his eyes carrying over the created mess, he knows that that's a lie.

He has no fear He has one fear..............losing you. 

The only one that would never forsake him like everybody else had time and time again. Even though he could never regain the magic he once possessed as a human, the closest he felt to himself was with you.

What is he supposed to do now?

The unintentional shifting of his foot reveals his location and you look up, catching his troubled look.

“Hey.” You smile at him briefly and he gives the door a push and enters the room

“Hey.” He returns, his voice trembling “Where are they?” He continues, referring to the very empty Boarding House.

“They left.” You shrug “ Probably saying goodbye to everyone.”

Kol shakes his head in disbelief but doesn't say anything. Instead, he joins you on the floor and reaches around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest.

You look at the arms that's around your shoulders, the red layer of blood that´s covering his healed wounds on his hand, stands out like a light bracing the dark of the night.. Looks like his fists had several rendezvous with a brick wall.

“There's nothing we can do, right?”  You break the silence and Kol shakes his head, staring holes in the floor beneath him.

You mutter a short string of cursed under your breath   “I should've listened to you. I’m sorry.”

“If I hadn't provoked Nik you wouldn´t -” He pauses, the unspoken words resting on his tongue to poisonous to dare speak out loud   “This wouldn't happen.”

“This is not your fault. Klaus would´ve daggered you with or without your involvement. This was me and my petty thirst for revenge. None of this is on you. You know that, right?”

When he doesn't look up, you brush over his harm, effectively getting his attention. You kind of wish you hadn't. When he looks at you, there´s this bout of emptiness playing behind his eyes.

“I cannot lose you, Y/N.” He says “I don't know what I'll do.”

“I know what you'll do.” Your fingers travel along his arm until you reach his hand and you lift it to kiss the top of them, before slipping your fingers between his “You'll thrive like you were supposed to decades ago. You´ll travel the world to see what it has to offer, you'll be free without constantly looking over your shoulder:. You´ll have the freedom you deserve. I'll gladly die for that if that's the price.”

“Freedom means nothing without you. The most breathtaking sight, the most thriving cities will be nothing without you next to me.”

“I won't be gone completely. I´ll look after you from the great beyond. You´re not getting rid of me that easily” You force a smile  “I'll always be there. If you feel lonely, murderous, sad and everything in- between. I'll always be there.”

Hearing that means so much to Kol, even though he himself isn´t sure if you're actually able to watch over him. The books he read on the other side weren´t conclusive, but he hopes you´re right. Oh, how he hopes you´ll be able to see him.

“Listen, when this is over-” You begin, already dreading the conversation you´re about to have.

Kol cuts you off, his heart immediately signing into his stomach at the thought “Don't.” He puts his hand up in your face, signalling you that he didn't want to hear what you had to say.

“No, you have to hear this. When this is over, I need you to get to New Orleans and check the Laveau tomb next to your hideout. I left something there for you.”

He furrowed his brow “You left what?”

“Just a few letters I wrote while you were gone. Maybe reading them will feel like I´m still here, you know? There are a lot of them so you won´t run out too soon.” You explain, and Kol nods, unsure if he´d even be able to stomach reading them.

“And there is one more thing.” You continue, leaning over to run your fingers through the strayed ends of his hair, before pressing your lips firmly against his. You felt him exhale through his nose against your skin “I love you; Kol Mikaelson. Always….and I'm sorry we don't have forever.”

“And I love you, Y/N Salvatore. And I always will.” He replies and seals his promise with a kiss. He kisses you with such desperation, the world falls away. It was slow and soft yet demanding in ways that words would never be.

If this is the last moment you´ll have together, you´d be fine with it. Truly and utterly happy that you had the opportunity to love as deeply as you love him.

Some travel the world or acquire the many riches and will never experience this. Utterly and endlessly being in love. And you pity them, oh how you pity those that will never feel this way. Those poor souls..

“Hey lovebirds!” Damon´s voice from downstairs pulls you apart “Get your asses down here! Now!”

“What the hell?” You groan before reluctantly pulling Kol to his feet.

Kol breathes out, the desire to end Damon´s life prematurely for interrupting presumably your last moment alone, is rising with each step he takes.

But alas, he follows you downstairs, pausing beside you and following your gaze into the living room. Stefan and Damon stand there beside each other, smiling from ear to ear.

“Don't tell me you cut me out of your last will up there?” Damon speaks up when you enter the living room. ” I heard the paper rustling and just because I'm dying doesn't mean I don't deserve a cut.”

“Are you... joking with me right now?? “ You look at Stefan for backup, but he raises his hand, exiting out of the conversation.  “And what the hell is all this?” You gesture to the table covered with a sheet.

“If we´re going out…” He grasps the covering sheet with two fingers and lifts it up, revealing dozens of his most treasured and most expensive liquor “.. we´re going out with a bang.”

The table is filled with a wide range of booze, from bourbon to brandy - everything is available.

“So we´re gonna vomiting our guts out before we bite the dust….” You say while nearing the table “Sounds like a good idea. Count me in!”

While you take in the stock, Kol remains on the edge of the stairs unsure If he should join. Perhaps it would be best if he'd say goodbye now and leave you with your brothers in peace.

Stefan passes him with another, smaller carton of bottles and

“Are you, uh coming in, or…” Stefan asks him, prompting Damon, to get in on the conversation.

“Yeah Mikaelson, you can stand there and watch or you can come and join us.” Damon says, padding the couch opposite of him   “You don't want to miss me dying, do you?

“You've got a point. It's a shame I can't kill you myself but…it'll have to do. ”He says, trying his best to sound witful.

Your hand reaching around his wrist prompts him to push his grim thoughts away, and he looks at you, not entirely sure what you're about to say.

“I understand if you want to leave. I couldn´t watch you die either.” You say, ignoring the fear that´s rising with the thought of this being the last time you´d see him.

He shakes his head “I'm not going anywhere..“

---------

The night went on and the booze was slowly but surely becoming scarce. You all spend several hours just dwelling in the past, telling stories of each of your adventures. Even Kol eventually shared a few stories of his own. Somewhere down the line, the conversation turned into a heated debate after another, reaching from the best vacation destination, right to what decade had the best music.

Just a few hours ago you were ready to move on without Stefan and Damon and you'd even had the means to kill Damon in a fit of rage. Now… you're spending your last day, hours, minutes with them. Who would've thought?

“What are you smiling about?” Stefan asks, sitting across from you.

Kol gives his head a turn and looks over following Stefan's question.

“Nothing.I just- It's funny that it takes us dying to be in the same room with each other. But it's nice not fighting with each other for once.”

That alone is worth dying for.

Stefan and Damon share a look like they're about to say something but the sudden beacon of light that's piercing through the mullioned panes of glass distracts them.

“It's almost morning.” You say, watching the light bathing the dark flooring in a crisscross of iridescent colour. “Do you think he was lying? Elijah I mean?”

Kol shakes his head “ My brother is many things; delusional, relentless, annoyingly loyal -  but he is not a liar.”  There is no way Elijah is lying, Kol knows that, but there is a slight shimmer of hope that he can´t ignore. But that's the thing with hope, it never did him much good, so why should it now?

The sound of the door opening once more, equally as loud if not louder than Elijah a few hours before, diverts the rooms attention.

Turning your head to look at the door, you immediately turn back with your eyes rolling as the sound of stilettos ruining the old flooring echoes in the living room. That can only mean one thing, or better, one person: Mae. Another person you sentenced to death.

Great. Just what you needed right now.

“Jesus, Mae ever heard of knocking?” You groan.

“Oh, you done look like you had one hell of a depressing´ night with those frowns of yours,” She says, choosing to ignore your previous words “ I should've brought some of those silly shirts with- what was it…..cheer up, bitches?”

“She's funny. I like her.” Damon slurs

“Trust me, it's not mutual.” She replies, prompting Damon to look like a kid that got his candy stolen.  

“Get to the point, would you?” Kol glares at her as he steps forward to make his presence more known “What do you want?”

“You Mikaelsons and your impatience All brawn and no brains sometimes, it a shame honestly.” She sighs before continuing “ I'm here to tell you to not put dirt on your graves just yet. Ain't nobody gonna die today.”

“What?” You  exchange a look with Kol of confusion layered with the slightest bit of hope "But Elijah said-”

“I know what he said, but he was slightly misinformed. But there's somethin´comin´ you won't enjoy.” She looks at the clock and mumbles a few numbers, calculating something “Judging by the time, it ain't gonna to take long.”

“Okay, “ You begin “either I´m beyond drunk, or just stupid, but I have no idea what you're talking-” The sudden urge to cough cuts you off, and you bring your hand up to politely cough into it. But instead of a dry cough, your hand is drenched in red.

Blood.

You can hear Stefan and Damon step forward to figure out what's going on, and you can feel their worried stare, alongside Kols, digging into your backside

Trying to grab the couch behind you, you feel another cough coming, and with it a nauseating, hot shiver that´s running through your body. Hoping to get a steady stance, you reach out for the couch behind you while your visions declines and your coughing increases. You miss the couch by a few inches, falling backwards for but a second before crashing into Kol´s chest.

“What's going on?”  Is all you you could manage to bring out before you couch again, this time covering the floor before you with a steady stream of blood. It feels like you're drowning in your own blood.

With your brain in overdrive, you feel your vision declining the more blood is coming out of your mouth, before suddenly everything engulfs into black, as if someone flipped of a light in a dark room. You fall back against Kol unconscious, blood dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“What did you do?!” Kol grits through his teeth, as he scoops you up in his arms to lay you down on the couch behind him..

“Not a thing. She brought that on herself.” Mae shrugs without a care in the world “But this is only the beginning...Say goodbye to the Y/N you know and love. She won't be the same when she wakes up.”   

“Speak. Now!” Kol demands. If sheßs not cooperating soon, Kol will resort to deliciously brutal alternatives, no matter if you claim that she's your friends. He doesn't care.

“Patience.” Mae says, her voice layer with a tick of annoyance “But first, I have someone here who is dying to talk to you.”

Kol straightens up, as the sound of heavy boots echoes in the hall. He couldn't see the person's face at first due to the blinding sunlight, but when he finally does, all he wants to do is run for his life….

A/N: So..this is mostly just a filler chapter, something to angst out a little before the drama continues. Also, I pretty much hate whatever I'm writing right now, so go easy on me, would you? :D I´´m trying my hardest bounce back trust me. 

But either way, let me know what you think! I would love to hear about your theories as to what happens next! 

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