#also good grief i think chapters 9 and 10 are gonna be fucking long again lel

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

FINALLY got myself into hyperfocus writing mode. Have I not had a break in four hours? yes. Have I gotten over 2k down in one sitting? Also yes. >:)

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 22

chapter 38:

1. “"Right, so, your stylist?" Marlene asks, settling in as they continue to sway. "The one who looks like a fucking goddess? Yeah, so get this, she says we're friends…"”

james and marlene gossip sesh <3333333

2. 😧 MCGONNAGAL??????????

3. wait i think mcgonnagal is good. i’m pretty sure she’s from the phoenix. i’m not sure. i’m hopeful. i’m so hopeful

4. aww huey is kinda sweet. i like that’s he’s reg’s breath of fresh air when it comes to talking to the hallows

5. reg, i understand your anger, but please don’t make one of the only good sponsors feel bad

6. jealous james >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

7. “"I like your tea," James offers. "Maybe I'm biased, but it tastes better than anyone else's. What do you do to it?"

Regulus hums and lightly says, "I spit in it."

Without missing a beat, James replies, "Ah, that explains it."”

😭😭😭😭😭

8. “"Would you—" Regulus chokes on another relentless giggle, gasping a little. "Wait, would you actually drink my tea if I spit in it, James?"

"Love, I would let you spit directly into my mouth," James announces with absolutely no shame in his tone whatsoever.”

😭😭😭😭 james i love you

9. awww i love that barty is the most consistent part of reg’s life. i love barty

10. 😬 riddle is unconvinced in their love story. i- yikes

11. okay, right, mcgonnagal is good. thank god

12. dorcas wants to keep marlene out of the war, but only one of them has had a pov so far, so i’m not hopeful

13. oh shit marlene sounds hot

14. also, to add in, i’m so fucking glad there’s like no homophobia (that we know of) in this world

15. i do NOT want dorlene to be a tragedy in this universe

16. 😟 she gave back the ring. AHHHH

17. oh no. shit shit shit shit shit what did riddle do

18. “Riddle didn't even grant the liberty of leaving bodies behind for them to bury.” 😟😧

(but also, orion and walburga were dicks, so like, i’m not sad, just scared)

chapter 39:

1. aww regulus finally invites james in for tea

2. “On the day he accidentally kills a bee while tending to his flowers, he goes through the five stages of grief in less than an hour, which has nothing to do with the bee and everything to do with Vanity.” STOP! THE VANITY MENTION HURTS TOO MUCH

3. “When Regulus wants more time with him, he adds bagels, which James has now unconsciously been Pavloved into thinking of as his favorite food for that very reason.” STOP THATS SO GAY

4. sirius being dramatic about james and reg liking each other is TOP TIER in this fic, in the most realistic, aggravated, obnoxious, and completely loving way

5. BWAHAHAHHAHA JAMES GETTING A PIGGY BACK RIDE FROM SIRIUS IS GOLD

6. oh shit, (i’m not the best comprehensive reader, but i should have figured this out sooner), but from sirius’ perspective, he has to do the back and forth with remus his whole life. he doesn’t have the knowledge that i do, that a war is coming and they’ll finally get a chance to live together. he thinks he only gets to see remus once a year for two weeks at a time. this- this shit is heartbreaking yall

7. “”I watched him stand to his feet and tip himself into a river of blood in an act so tender that I'll never again be able to look at him with anything less than pure love. Every other member of the Black family, including you, fought and clawed their way home to their family, oftentimes to a family that never truly made them feel loved at all. Regulus? He fought and clawed through that arena, the entire time, for James. He's far more gentle than anyone gives him credit for."”

y’all, i’m crying over this. this is so lovely. effie is right, and i’m crying over how right she is

8. 😒 i know what’s coming. riddles a bitch. a right bitch. he’s gonna announce that previous victors are competing and i’m PISSED

9. so far, all three potters offered reggie food. they’re so hospitable, i love them

10. “He hasn't forgotten what it is to long for James. He still knows what it is to want him so badly that he'd be willing to kneel at the altar of James Potter and beg; he'd drop down on his hands and knees and crawl if that's what it took, if that would prove his devotion. He is the manifestation of longing built up with nowhere to go, and he craves, he yearns, he covets.”

both of them are so down bad

11. omg reg is so horny. his inner monologue is literally only like “”””“rip my clothes off please, read my mind and rip my clothes off”””””

12.AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I KNEW IT WAS COMING! BUT IM SO MAD!!! FUCK RIDDLE

13. effie is a queen. she is a godsend. and i’m so upset right now

14. not effie making them promise not to volunteer, and immediately james and sirius arguing over who’s gonna volunteer for her

15. i’m seething. i’m pissed beyond belief. i’m so angry it’s indescribable. my babies are going back into that arena. honestly, fuck riddle

[pascal-oswell]

20 questions for fic authors

i saw ur tag in the morning when i woke up nessa and then i completely forgot. BUT THANK U FOR THINKING OF ME!!!! i don't really want to tag anyone bc its a bit scary. but eros and duo if u see this... perhaps this might interest u to do it

1. How many fics do you have on ao3?

46 ! and maybe like 20 which existed on ao3 at some point but got deleted by oj for one reason or another.

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

96 365... the oj does not write long things

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly project moon these days. and mostly limbus bc (inferno pink grabs me by the throat)

if i didnt feel like it was pointless id probably write for a larger variety of stuff bc the oj brain is full of self insert stuff. but it doesnt rly matter

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

the wine on your skin (137) gonna shrimp myself over that one bc it was my first and probably shittiest smut. but its smut in a large fandom (fire emblem) so it attracted people i guess

yeah dante's fine. what do you mean they're at -45 sanity you're lying (132) IM GLAD PEOPLE LIKED THAT ONE it was a lot of fun. and nice people cared about a dante centric fic with abnos:) (but also still mad as hell over that thing with the guy taking one of the concepts and clearly saying it was from another fic while categorically refusing to actually name it lol)

do NOT wake the manager up. YES they fell asleep on the job but they're REAL comfy right now do NOT disturb them (117) i can't tell if people get attracted by the funny titles or bc they see there are more characters besides faust and dante. bc i know people are NOT coming for them.

i'll always be there (104) a short manuleth fic... im glad there are manuleth likers out there. that professor loves that doctor ok

and they'll fall in love with her again and again (88) people liked the exploration of IDs... its kinda debunked now but it was still fun

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I USUALLY DO unless i find the comment weird. but if its rly weird i usually straight up delete it lol but otherwise i reply to comment if only to thank people for taking the time to leave one. its a tough world out there for attention starved writer

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

id argue the angstiest i have is one of my deleted ones where i straight up killed a char and the fic was all about everyone else's grief it was depressing lol otherwise theres the obvious silver snow edeleth angst but its kinda whatever. the backward clock chapter of the dante abnos fic was rly good imo. the nothing there one too. the inferno pink confession fic too.... ough...

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

SCORCHED GIRL & ANGELA FIC GOT ME FUCKED UP MAN. FOUND FAMILY BETWEEN THE FUCKED UP LITTLE GIRL AND THE ANDROID

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nah. thank god i dont i think id nuke my ao3 on the spot i already explode over weird comment

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i smack my faust and dante dolls together

i used the be rly scared of smut now im a free little oj. it gets horny sometimes but also im rly vanilla so its usually very sweet.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i dont. i should sometime though.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

NOT AS FAR AS I KNOW I THINK ID NEVER WRITE AGAIN OTHERWISE

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nay

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no and i dont think i could oj needs to write her thing in peace. art&fic stuff are rly fun though.. oj likes when duo art inspires her or oj text inspires duo...

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

ALL TIME IS A TOUGHIE the ships come and go guys cmon. rn inferno pink is all the rage though. and me with all the ladies i like

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

funnily enough i dont rly have wips bc i only start things when im REALLY motivated and i usually dont write things long enough that id drop them mid way. so none

16. What's your writing strengths?

being straight to the point maybe. idk. i mean my whole style is about short sentences and descriptions and just giving enough to get the feelings and vibes and idk. like i dont spend a paragraph talking about the weather thats not my style.

i like to think im good at sounding like chars too. if its the chars i like at least. or i hope at least. maybe its all in my head.

17. What's your writing weaknesses?

im rly bad at writing things that require more description... stuff that i cant just move on from or write by sprinkling lil actions between dialogues... like say. a fight scene. im rly bad at it

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i mean if the char actually speaks in another language usually and mixes it with the translated language or whatever sure. itd make sense i have no issue with it

19. First fandom you wrote for?

long ago i wrote stuff for shin megami tensei 4. but i think even before that i wrote lil danganronpa drabbles that never got posted anywhere. also technically i wrote a story about vocaloids for an english assignment in middle school. does that count

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

idk if its a favorite but im like. rly fond of "hello doctor, it's me again. i missed you." bc its the fic i probably put the most effort in. longest and multi chapters and like. id started writing it two years prior to when i finished it and id written like. a chapter and a half on paper during breaks in college and never did anything with it. and two years later when i was sorting my stuff i had these papers and wanted to throw them away so i was like ill type this out on puter at least before that. and then i ended up motivating myself to finish it and i was rly proud of it... oj is still rly sad it didnt get that much attention in the end.

otherwise oj rly likes her angela & abno fics:) shes happy with them. and also stuff ive written for duo! i think its cute and i had a lot of fun with them

[chrysalizzm]

i uh. realized people follow me now because of uh. you’re human tonight on ao3 asdjgfs

i have content!! behind the scenes content as promised. i do outlines for my fics as a general rule of thumb just because i personally can’t write things to a satisfying finish if i don’t Do That, and so - here are my chapter/plot outlines for you’re human tonight ^^ (i have no idea if this is interesting content or not i thought i’d put it out there because i think outlines are kinda fun hhhh)

chap 1 fundy

subtitle: an inkling

fundy makes an iron golem gone wrong, dream makes it go boom

chap 2 purpled

subtitle: uh oh social interaction

purpled shelters a fugitive, gets his house explosion-proofed as thanks

this is probably gonna be the only chapter with a funny title hh oh well

update: it’s not and i’m pleased with myself for branching out with my dry humor

chap 3 sapnap

subtitle: dust to dust

sapnap’s dying via wither effect, and he knows respawn’s around the corner but goddamn if it doesn’t hurt til then. dream skids in around the nether fortress corner, drops all his weapons cradles sapnap’s head in his hands, has always taken death much harder than anyone sapnap’s ever met. at the last few seconds, when death creeps up like a shroud, dream starts to hum to him hoarsely, pressing his forehead to sapnap’s, and in the final moments sapnap doesn’t hurt at all. the last thing he hears is dream whimpering. he visits dream’s bunker the next day, knocks on the door over and over, but there’s no sign of life there. sapnap shrugs, bites his lip out of guilt for forcing dream to sit there watching him die (if temporarily), and moves on.

the chapter that introduces dream’s primary ability of soothing hurts. put a lot of emphasis on the fact that sapnap ached up until the moment dream started humming, because for dream to do that is pretty frivolous considering once sapnap died he’d respawn and the hurt would just disappear but dream wanted sapnap to have a peaceful last few seconds. emphasize how abnormal it is that withering stops hurting. 

chap 4 ponk

subtitle: beaches dry of sugarcane

dream visits ponk after george burns down the first tree. when ponk arrives to the second tree to move in, he realized dream made the tree flourish, grow healthier and bigger. 

chap 5 sam

subtitle: fuck this shit i’m out (edit: the official subtitle is “oh god oh fuck”, i changed it last-minute)

dream picks sam’s brain for manhunt strategies while the latter is mining for redstone. sam stumbles upon a spawner and reels back, trips, nearly misses the moment dream sweeps him behind him and his eyes flash beneath the mask and when sam gets back up, dazed, there’s nothing but the splay of cobwebs all over the walls. 

chap 6 punz

subtitle: lines drawn

in an unrelated skirmish, punz drives his sword up to the hilt in dream’s chest, relying on respawn for dream to not feel any pain and for punz to get paid. dream doesn’t die. this is understandably alarming. 

can we get some funnies in chap? just a few laughs?? a lil funny for mr luke punz man?

can we get some panicky dry humor for real tho because punz strikes me as someone who copes with morbid humor and dream spluttering up blood is def a situation that punz would not know how to deal with

chap 7 wilbur

subtitle: so about that date

wilbur makes platonic moves on dream while dream fake texts his fiance under the table. wilbur also accidentally vents to dream about his little brother tommy and how afraid he is that tommy will get himself hurt for how reckless he is. dream siphons some of his anxiety from him, smiles as they depart from one another. wilbur notes that dream is shaking when they leave. 

chap 8 skeppy

subtitle: get wrecked noob

dream walks skeppy through some pvp. when skeppy demands a rematch w tommy and gets a lil stage fright kinda sorta thing, dream siphons his anxiety and his nerves and goes full soccer mom with bad and skeppy loses 5-2 but like!! he won!! against tommyinnit!! HH

is there any mental image nearly as powerful as dream wastaken, the soccer mom

chap 9 jack

subtitle: mandatory volunteering

after tommy goes on another one of his destructive rampages lmao, dream enlists jack, newest-comer, to help him rebuild stuff bc underclassmen have to do whatever upperclassmen tell them to do thems just the rules. after rebuilding a statue near the community house, dream pats it fondly, and when tommy sneaks back to set in on fire for shits and giggles, he finds that it’s fuckin fireproofed AGAIN

rebuild efforts, i promised monuments rebuilt so thats what theyre gonna fuckin Get

chap 10 antfrost

subtitle: twist the knife

ant on what ends up being an unpublicized manhunt: dream stops the manhunt because he’s triggered a raid and by the time the hunters get there, alarmed by the screaming and the fire and dream’s unresponsiveness, the villagers are all dead and there are raider corpses everywhere and dream is lying near the bell on his side, whimpering. (what the hunters don’t know - dream tried to fight off the raid but was overwhelmed and witnessed the village get slaughtered, he took the pain of the villagers that weren’t dead but were dying.)

segment: There’s a reason they do the manhunts, and it’s not just for them to horse around and try to kill one another for a few days. Antfrost is the newcomer but he’s always been good at reading people and from the outset he knew that Dream was someone filled to the brim with the restlessness that characterizes humans, that never-settling wanderlust, and his brain works too fast for the rest of his body sometimes, and he just needs an outlet. It’s part of why he eggs Tommy on in their little war games, why he holds onto those discs even though he doesn’t need them, why he gets that delighted look on his face when someone tells him that Tommy’s griefed them or stolen from them or otherwise ruined their morning. Antfrost thinks the only times he’s ever really seen Dream silent, Dream waiting, Dream unmoving, are when Dream is 

chap 11 karl

subtitle: head in the shallows

karl, sapnap, george, and dream have a sleepover after mcc 11. karl, nearest to dream, wakes up when dream starts tossing and turning from a nightmare. when he tries to shake dream awake, dream’s eyes fly open and he slams his fist into the wall behind him and the earth, the literal earth, the entire slab of it, shudders like an earthquake. sapnap and george sleep like the dead, so it’s just karl and dream staring at one another. finally karl asks, concerned, “do you want some tea or water or anything?”

chap 12 hbomb

subtitle: a maid’s burden

“i want to dress up as a maid for fundy,” says hbomb with false bravado. fundy’s fiance levels a very impassive look at him for an awkward minute or two and just when hbomb thinks he’s misread dream and fundy’s relationship dream says “i’ll get you a wig” and the entire chapter is just dream idly twisting the fabric of reality to get hbomb the items he needs to put the outfit together

pranks, i promised pranks, theyre gonna get pranks

chap 13 alyssa

subtitle: message in a bottle (edit: official subtitle is “ship in a bottle”)

alyssa’s leaving, at least temporarily. 

alyssa tells dream it’s getting dangerous on his server, doesn’t relish the expression that brings to his face, but he holds her hands and nods and bids her safe journey. when alyssa returns, running for something (later we’ll learn she had heard that dream was bad, that he might be dying), she finds that her house is completely inaccessible by everyone save her, placed in complete stasis by someone. 

start of the chapters leading up to festival arc. build unresolved tension in this one. 

chap 14 niki

subtitle: life doesn’t discriminate

wilbur and tommy are relentless, they waste no time; niki is willing to wait for it. 

the night before the duel, she goes to dream and holds a sword to his throat and demands he call it off, even though she knows it’ll mean little because of respawn, tells him she won’t stop hunting him down until he gives up l’manberg. dream smiles a little sadly and pats her hand and her fright, her rage, it simmers back down, and the anger that had swarmed her and made dream out to be the devil dies down until it’s just her friend, who was playing along with tommy til it got serious and he got cocky, who’s just as in over his head as she is, and maybe niki’s soft but she likes that about herself, that she’s always the first to forgive. niki is looking at the healing cut on dream’s neck, uncovered by any bandages, when dream shoots tommy, a clean shot that causes no suffering.

a long chapter, probably. i think at some point in this i want to mention niki’s respect for dream for apologizing during the first pet war, for not letting things get any bigger until fundy came back. some parallels can be drawn here - that dream let the fire die down in the initial stages of the pet war, that dream won’t let go of the l’manberg war now, and it occurs to niki that she doesn’t know dream nearly as well as she thinks she does if she expected him to act exactly the way he did during the pet war. she’s got what she’s wanted - dream’s remorse, proof of dream’s humanity - even though it’s not in the form niki wanted it. 

chap 15 eret

subtitle: crown of thorns

the king in name only consults with the true leader. 

they’re both upset about pogtopia’s exile, eret arguably more so because they think their early betrayal of l’manberg somehow butterfly-effected into the current dumpster fire, and as they talk eret works themself into a full panic attack reflecting on things that were, things that could’ve been - and the tide washes out all of a sudden, and eret’s left with the same looming hollowness they’d been feeling before, no dregs of the panic, they’ve never had a panic attack that left them feeling normal after - but dream is now wheezing like he’s about to die and eret immediately walks him through the panic attack, levelheaded even as they’re confused out of their mind. 

chap 16 quackity

subtitle: water to blood

quackity is a snake in the grass. 

quackity at schlatt’s side during the few weeks of his presidency. he knows schlatt from before, has been his friend, so he knows when his friend is acting off. the cynical, straight-faced humor is still there, his completely bland delivery and brazen showmanship, but it’s twisted to the left somehow, to make it so that those qualities that make up his friend have rotted, hurt people. quackity eventually goes to dream after schlatt first overdoses with a lot of questions, maybe even to confess that his allegiance has begun to shift because he can’t go to pogtopia and he can’t go to schlatt - and dream just gives him a long, sad look before lightly patting quackity’s shoulder and says “i can’t guarantee anything - just that you’ll be safe” and shooing him off and as quackity heads back to manberg he realises all the hostile mobs are avoiding him like the fucking plague. 

it’s big q!!!! fattest ass in the cabinet!!!!! pog!!!

fun fact this chapter’s subtitle was almost “chekhov’s gun” until november fucking 16th of 2020

chap 17 tommy

subtitle: most disputes die and no one shoots

tommy learns how a legacy dies.

a compendium of tommy watching the madness consume wilbur. it needs to be emphasized in this chapter that wilbur becomes an entirely different person when they’re ejected from manberg, that he becomes obsessed with the legacy he’s created and watching it crumble is what twists him; when dream gives tommy his crossbow, tommy, out of desperation and a need to have an older sibling again, asks what’s wrong with wilbur; dream’s face hardens and he asks tommy to take dream to wilbur. it’s a terse meeting, the only one they have before techno and before wilbur completely loses it and demands the tnt; wilbur says a lot of things tommy doesn’t understand (it’s complex mythological jargon hinting at dream’s status as a god but could be misconstrued to refer to dream’s status as simply the world owner) and at one point wilbur sneers, “are you trying to play god, dream?” and dream lurches forward and grabs wilbur by the wrist, and there’s a completely silent moment where tommy feels the air suck out of his lungs and there’s an off buzzing in his ears and he fancies he hears something that sounds, just a bit, like dream, whispering desperately wilbur wilbur wilbur it’s me it’s me listen listen listen then a shrieking, acrid wave of no and tommy reels back and when he looks up dream has staggered back, his hand to his mouth, blood dripping from somewhere beneath his mask, sounding like he’s gagging or maybe he’s sobbing, as wilbur shrieks in a voice that is entirely not his “get out get out if i can’t have l’manberg...” and tommy understands, finally, as dream sprints out. that’s not wilbur.

a distinction needs to be made perfectly clear in this chapter, as with schlatt’s chapter: it’s not them. they’ve been twisted out of control by something bigger than them, something that wants to toy with the young god running an oasis of peace for his people. it doesn’t need to be outright said in this fic; in another we can delve into the madness and who did it and why. for now, just make it clear it’s not explicitly anyone’s fault.

chap 18 techno

subtitle: colosseum

dream had to let techno in first, you know. 

techno and dream have interacted often - the duel, the championships, they’re friends more than acquaintances now. but techno was called in by someone wearing his brother’s face that he honestly doesn’t recognize from his voice and when he arrives at spawn, before tommy fetches him, he sees dream sitting cross legged waiting for him and they talk about the situation, dream giving techno a quick brief. when tommy comes, crying “techno, this way, this way to pogtopia”, and crossbow bolts are being fired at techno, dream gives him a lil wave goodbye (or what techno thinks is a lil wave goodbye but what actually turns out to be putting a swiftness effect on him).

“that’s not my brother, dream,” says techno, and dream’s mouth wobbles and he says, hoarse, “i know.”

techno Suspects, but only knows that dream has world-manipulating powers and thus standard minor god powers. he doesn’t let dream know he suspects. 

chap 19 bad

subtitle: run devil run

bad trusts dream, perhaps against his better judgement. 

dream comes to visit bad and skeppy on neutral grounds in the interim leading up to the festival that everyone on the server is side-eyeing and side-stepping. bad considers his friend and the owner of the world as he gives dream an impromptu tour through the escape route he and skeppy have dug out, wonders with a little reproach how dream could let things get to this point, then, soft, gentle as always, acknowledges that dream is only human kindly. when he says that, though, dream’s face crumples, as though those words hurt him more than any criticism bad’s given him in the time he’s known him, as though bad had driven a blade into his heart, and bad doesn’t understand but he lets dream run away from that. when a small flock of creepers explode over the tunnel the night before the festival and bad grumbles that he has to fix it, he learns dream left him with a fortified escape tunnel.

a/n: i’m sure the irony isn’t lost on you.

chap 20 tubbo

subtitle: cadmean victory

what say the sacrificial lamb?

tubbo is coming to terms with the fact that he might not make it out of office in one piece and it’s not his first time respawning but the older members of the server always, always did their best to shield the younger ones from death. he runs into dream by complete coincidence while he’s avoiding pogtopia (mostly wilbur) and manberg (mostly schlatt), caught between two strangers wearing his friends’ faces. he looks at dream, who looks back at him impassively, and tubbo starts to cry, because it finally hits him that even with his death and respawn nothing will be fixed, nothing can change, the poison’s run too deep into the veins of dream’s beautiful little world and now nothing can be right anymore and it feels like he’s shattering into tiny, aching shards - and then dream kneels before him, takes his hands, presses his forehead to them, sighs like his heart’s breaking, and tubbo feels a small calm thread back into him as dream stands abruptly, jittery. dream, with hands that shake, grips tubbo’s shoulder, hovers for a second, then his head jerks up and he bolts into the forest, clambering up a tree with admirable ease and disappearing away into the leaves as schlatt suddenly emerges from the bushes nearby with a joyous, plastic “hey! tubbo!”

chap 21 george

subtitle: lantern burns low

a moment in the night; george is visited by a specter. 

dream comes, pale, and asks george if there is anything wrong, is everything okay with you? takes george’s caught-off-guard face in his hands and says george george george, are you - and george catches a glimpse of dream’s powers (is he safe safe does he hurt no but fear but anxiety there are dregs hush now quiet now he is safe all quiet quiet quiet he’s safe) and he says, stricken even as the constant thrum of nervous energy he’d kept with him fades out, “dream what was that,” and dream presses his hands to his mask where his eyes are and says, despairingly, “they don’t get to have you too,” and staggers back out. 

george is the first person dream overtly “comes out” to. this is also why george doesn’t see dream til the festival. 

chap 22 schlatt

subtitle: the empty throne

dream visits schlatt in his office. 

schlatt, possessed by madness, has no idea what he’s saying but it feels right, it’s exactly right, everything is in his hands, and when dream approaches, his hands facing up, is he there is he there yes yes yes tainted polluted this is twisted this is madness madness madness dream reels back, shaking, and schlatt leans in and leers, not even knowing what he’s saying, “you can’t even fix it, young god,” and relishes the way all the color drains from dream’s face.

=)

chap 23 dream (edit: this monster ended up being split into three for pacing purposes and also if i left it together it was gonna be. h. 14K WORDS. also the drama of a cliffhanger at what most people thought was going to be the last chapter was too good to pass up don’t @ me

subtitle: do you feel like a young god?

running, running, running again

finale!! dream takes everyone’s old hurts into himself, takes the madness from schlatt and wilbur, promptly passes the hell out because no one should be doing that, wakes up, gets the shit hugged out of him, and explains a little, and gets told that he’s loved over and over. 

i uh! take questions! i like talking about this story, there’s a lot i still want to show, and even apart from that i just really love mcyt haha

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

Fic Rec List (A Tag Game!)

Rules: Post links (Ao3, ff.net, etc.); specify fandom/pairing/etc; don’t answer the same fic twice - spread the appreciation; tag other people; you don’t have to answer all the questions, but leave them in the list so the next person can answer if they want.

i was tagged by @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys, who is also listed below because they’re a banging author and i love love love their work. ALSO i tried to tag the author’s tumblr where i could find it, but if i forgot or i totally fucked up and tagged you for a fic you didn’t write please let me know 😅

Fandoms mentioned are MCU, Stephen King’s It, The Umbrella Academy, Shazam!, Welcome to Night Vale

1. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (multiple chapters/parts): and i will not remember that i ever felt the pain by Fluffifullness @fluffifullness (It) -- it’s about the longing! it’s about grief and love and how they’re connected! it’s about the angst! but most importantly it’s about eddie 👏 getting 👏 all 👏 the 👏 hugs 👏👏👏

2. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (one-shot): we'll laugh and we'll cry until there's no more tears by knewwellenough @transfinnpoe (It) -- what’s better than this? coupla guys bein’ dudes, coupla dudes cryin’ and huggin’, coupla guys bein’ gay. ugh god i’m still weeping over this reunion hug, like, yeah there’s smut eventually but guys the hUG--

3. Favourite WIP you’ve read this month: hold on i still need you by QueenWithABeeThrone (It) because @viciousmaukeries is both a master of the written word and a genie specializing in granting my very specific fic wishes before i’ve even thought to wish them, so please, go read this tam lin au i’m still losing my whole mind over it

4. One fic/series you’ve read which you keep coming back to again and again:  hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) @eddykaspbraks (It) -- *blows a kiss in the general direction of NYC* for eddie kaspbrak getting the healing he deserves

5. Most underrated fic you’ve read this year: did you know there’s no option to sort your bookmarks by kudos wtf anyway let’s go with some by virtue fall by StarryCleric (Umbrella Academy) because WHY are all my favorite five character studies so criminally underappreciated

6. Most underrated fic you’ve read EVER: trade all my tomorrows by tombenough_and_continent (Umbrella Academy) because again, why are all my favorite five character studies so underappreciated, wtf where’s the LOVE for my sad traumatized old man assassin, huh??? where???

7. Favourite whump/angst fic of the year: Next time, hire a nanny by TheArchaeologist @ancientstone (Umbrella Academy) i am counting this as whump/angst because my dude gets real hurt in this, but tbh it’s the ACTION i love this fic for, just nonstop heart pumping adrenaline and worry for my favorite time traveling (retired) assassin and his adorable little niece, and some amazingly soft hurt/comfort at the end

8. Favourite hurt/comfort fic of the year: If Either Way's The Hard Road by altschmerzes @altschmerzes (Shazam!) -- brothers being soft! my soft spot for kids played by jack dylan grazer strikes again! ahhh! good shit!

9. Favourite fluff fic of the year: Everybody Comes A-Running by Infinite_Monkeys @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys (MCU, GotG) -- listen, i KNOW i’m biased! i know! but this is still SO SO GOOD. the image of loki falling asleep while the guardians doodle on his leg cast is a gift i never knew i needed and it’s fantastic

11. Favourite smut fic of the year: Things That Happens After Eddie Lives (It) by IfItHollers @tthael is not, strictly speaking, a “smut fic,” it’s a fix-it that just happens to have some E-rated scenes, and it would have fit fine in #4′s slot because i’ve reread the whole thing so many times, but listen, this fic’s sex scenes are like the only sex scenes i’ve ever read and liked. talk about keeping in character, man! top fucking notch! plus there’s a line in there like “eddie knows exactly what oxygen does to fire but he breathes in anyway” while richie’s going down on him and, really, that line alone gives it this position on the list SO

10. Favourite gen fic of the year: the only soul I've ever saved by valkyrisms @valkyrisms (MCU, Thor, Spider-man) -- i just had the absolute pleasure of rereading this because it’s been months and i forgot so much of it, GOD if there’s a perfect way to write the unlikely friendship of loki and peter parker, it is unequivocally this

12. Favourite fix-it fic of the year/ever: An Eye For An Eye by dgalerab @dgalerab (Umbrella Academy) because it is no secret at all that this is my favorite fic, and series, bar none. season 2 will not live up to this, i’ve already accepted it, i’m alright with it, because i can always come back and read this after, y’know?

13. Favourite crack-fic fic of the year: 

14. Favourite sick-fic this year: 

15. Favourite kid-fic this year: kith and kin by penhaligon @arthurpenhaligons (Umbrella Academy) i know i’ve flailed over this on tumblr before but, guys, c’mon, UNCLE FIVE. what else do i need to say? i still cry every time i reach five saying “i don’t want to do this anymore” even though i’ve reread this several times, i just....... five ;_;

15. Fic this year which you didn’t expect to love as much as you do: Mostly Void, Partially Stars by Infinite_Monkeys @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys (MCU, Thor, Welcome to Night Vale) because who writes an mcu night vale crossover and makes it work? oh my god how, this was so good, it’s a mark of superb writing when i actually bark laugh while reading it, like, what a concept, what execution, what a fic, take all my kudos just take em

16. Fic which convinced you to ship a pairing: 

17. Favourite AU you’ve read this year: Who You Gonna Call..? by lesbuchanan @lesbuchanan (Umbrella Academy) -- why is river consistently the most galaxy brained person on this site? i have no words but *chef’s kiss*

18. Longest fic/series you’ve read this year: Keep the Car Running (MCU, GotG) starmora! woo! literally 300k+ of starmora and i did not regret a single second of the entire week it took me to read it

19. The last fic you’ve read: all good things by Fluffifullness @fluffifullness (It) -- pleASE someone for the love of god go read this fic and come scream about it with me, it’s just. so good. so so good. the losers defeat pennywise but don’t manage to prevent all those eggs from hatching, resulting in an apocalypse au that so far is MINDBLOWINGLY good and i’m dying over here just thinking about it

20. Wildcard fic you haven’t mentioned but deserves a shout-out + why:  In Our Bones by scullyseviltwin @scullyseviltwin (It) because it made me CRY and then it made me cry AGAIN and i LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT

EDIT I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAG PEOPLE AKJHSKJFHAKJFH WHOOPS uhhh okay how bout if i tagged you as an author consider yourself tagged? yeah let’s go with that, but like, no pressure you know the drill just do it if you feel like it or if you’re like me and you’re using this as an excuse to procrastinate other things

EDIT #2 also just like. do this. if you feel like it, regardless of whether you’re tagged or not, just like........ pretend i tagged you aiight

[lovemesomerafael]

Others Like Me                                  Chapter 10:  Spain

Chapters 1-5     Chapter 6     Chapter 7  

Chapter 8   Chapter 9    Read it on AO3

Most of the team sleeps on the way back to the Compound, but only Bucky gets on the plane, takes a seat, and sleeps until they hit the tarmac in New York. Actually, he doesn’t sleep the entire time; he wakes up a few times, blinks, remembers, and forces himself to go back to sleep again.  He knows he can’t just sleep until he feels better, like he used to back in Brooklyn when he had the flu.  But it’s working for now.  

He doesn’t dream, at least that he can tell.  Too exhausted, maybe.  

It doesn’t escape him that, every time he wakes up, Steve’s sitting next to him. Sometimes he’s asleep, too, but mostly he’s reading or talking softly to Clint or one of the soldiers.  Bucky wonders if Steve knows how much that helps.  Probably.  But when he can, Bucky’s going to tell him, anyway.  He can’t, right now.  But he can reach out and take Steve’s hand where it’s resting in Steve’s lap.  So he does.  Bucky closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, so he doesn’t see Steve spend the next hour staring at their clasped hands, or feel the tear that escapes to fall onto Bucky’s fingers and then roll down onto Steve’s.  

Back home, it’s morning and Bucky can’t sleep anymore.  He looks around for something to catch his interest, but he doesn’t want to sit still, he’s too tired and sore to work out, and his stab wound isn’t healed enough yet to go for a run.  So he just prowls the compound like a tiger in a cage, restless and melancholy. He’s glad there’s no one around. Steve and Clint are here somewhere, but Tony, Bruce, Natasha, and Sam have all stayed behind to help the Troops figure out their next steps.  Scott’s gone back wherever he came from.  It’s quiet, and there’s no one to be bothered by Bucky’s edginess and constant roaming.

Eventually, he unpacks his gear and works on cleaning and repairs, just for something to occupy his hands.  His mind’s kind of fuzzy, which he figures is probably a good thing.  In his mind, he’s replaying the operation to destroy the bunker and free the Troops, like he always does after a mission, but mostly he’s trying not to think about anything.  He doesn’t want to think about Marya, and he’s not ready to think about Steve.  

The next week goes kind of like that, although every day’s a little better than the last.  Tony gets back and he’s full of ideas for the Troops.  The twelve who are staying together have chosen to live in Spain, in the Basque country west of Bilbao, and Tony and the other Avengers have an idea for a compound sort of like this one, if a little more self-sustaining.  The first thing the Troops did was to choose names for themselves, real names, rather than their number designations, which Natasha thinks is a good sign.  She’s helping them start figuring out the real world, and Sam’s helping them begin to process what they’ve been through and done in their years as Hydra captives. Bruce is working on plans for the compound, which Tony is, of course, financing.  

Steve explains to Bucky that there’s more to this than mere altruism.  The Troops are still dangerous as hell, yet extremely vulnerable.  It’s critical that The Avengers keep in close contact and on good terms with them so that they don’t just become the pawns of some other organization like Hydra, or worse. Besides which, they’ll be great allies if needed in a fight.  

It hurts to hear about them.  Bucky wants to be there; he knows he’s their “brother”, and he should be there.  But he simply can’t.  Tony is full of funny stories about the Troops misunderstanding common turns of phrase, and it reminds Bucky so much of Marya he feels it like a knife in his gut.  He’ll get there.  He knows he will, and it won’t be that long.  But not today, and not next week.  Nobody’s rushing him.  

Steve’s not rushing him into anything, either.  For the first month, that suits Bucky fine.  Their friendship was in such tatters a short time ago that it’s nice, for now, to start simply.   When Bucky had first been rescued from Hydra, he’d been a mess, and Steve had simply been present, letting Bucky set the tone and speed of their reunion.  After that, when Bucky was fully Bucky again, he’d tried as hard as Steve had to recapture the easy intimacy of their friendship and, for the most part, they’d succeeded for a short time.  But things had fallen apart when they’d tried to rekindle their romance.  The romance wasn’t the problem – God knows that wasn’t the problem – but every time he’d tried, Bucky had found himself unable to keep from pulling away, so shamed and disgusted by himself he couldn’t bear to let Steve get close.  The more Steve had pushed, the further Bucky had retreated, until he’d finally decided the least painful alternative for them both was to give up on ever being able to let Steve love him again.  They’d both been so frustrated that they were barely speaking even before Bucky had been abducted and met Marya.

Things are different now.  They’ve been repairing their friendship since before the bunker, even when Bucky was with Marya.  And when she’d told Bucky that she wasn’t coming back with him - that he was ready to be with Steve again, where he belongs - Bucky had known she was right.

It’s taken Bucky this long to get over the shock and initial grief of Marya’s death.  These days, however, he can think about her and smile.  It still hurts like a bitch, but the truth is, she’s been gone almost as long as she was in Bucky’s life.  And Steve’s here.  

They’ve started training together again, which is what they’re doing right now. The serum lets them beat the crap out of each other if they want to, knowing everything will be pretty much healed by the next day.  But Bucky’s been noticing that, lately, he wants to tackle and wrestle Steve a lot more than he wants to punch or kick him, and he knows exactly what that’s about. It’s time.  He thinks Steve’s there, too, but he won’t make a move.  Every time Bucky tries, Steve gives him this “let’s take it slow” speech, the exact opposite of what he did when Bucky really needed to take it slow.  It just wouldn’t be their relationship if they didn’t fuck things up ten ways to Sunday.

Steve’s just thrown Bucky over his head to land with a thud flat on his back, knocking the breath out of him for a minute.  Bucky’s smiling.  He would be laughing if his lungs were currently working, and Steve’s being a complete smug dick about it.  When Bucky catches his breath, Steve makes the mistake of reaching down to help him up from the mat and gets his feet swept out from under him.  In less than a second, Bucky’s got him pinned and his legs trapped with his own.  

“You’re such a sucker!”

“It’s called manners,” Steve huffs.  “You should try it.”

“Make me.”

For the next few minutes, Steve tries to do that, but Bucky’s having it all his way. The end result is a lot of writhing around while Bucky’s lying pretty much fully along Steve which is, of course, Bucky’s entire intention.  

“All right, fine,” Steve sighs disgustedly.  “You win this one.”

“Uh-huh.  Now gimme my prize.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kiss me.”

Steve’s instantly on alert.  He frowns and goes all concerned.  Bucky rolls his eyes.  “Shit, Steve, it’s just a kiss.  I’m not askin’ you to marry me.”

“I know, Buck, but I’m trying to do things right this time.  Tryin’ to take it slow.”

“Fine.  Kiss me slow,” Bucky grins.

Steve’s uncertain, but Bucky’s not, and he also happens to be kind of a shit. So he starts rubbing against Steve, leaning down to within a fraction of an inch of his lips, and not letting him get away.  “C’mon,” he purrs.  “What’re you afraid of?”

“Not you, that’s for sure.”

“Then fuckin’ kiss me, punk.”

Steve does.  Bucky can feel that he’s into it, and he’s breathing hard, but he keeps the kiss gentle and almost chaste.

“What am I, your sister?”  Bucky growls. “I said kiss me.”

That works.  The next thing Bucky knows, he’s the one lying under Steve, who’s straddling him and kissing him for real.  It’s about time.  

It feels glorious to have Steve’s hot mouth on his, kissing him hard and invasively, all tongue and moans.  Bucky keeps trying to grind against him, and it works for a few minutes, but then Steve pulls back and rolls off of Bucky.

“What the hell?  Come back here,” Bucky groans, reaching for Steve, who moves a little away.

“Can’t help it, Bucky, you’re just so damn sexy.”

“Which is a reason to come back over here, lame-brain, not move away.”

“No, but, I just don’t wanna start something we can’t finish.”

“Why the hell can’t we finish it?  I want to finish it.  That’s kind of the point I’m makin’ here.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Buddy, it’s been too long.”

Bucky reaches for Steve, who stands up and moves a few steps away.  He pulls his fingers through his hair, clearly troubled. “C’mon, Buck, stop it.  You know I can’t resist you.”

“Then don’t!”

“Dammit, Bucky, this isn’t a game.  I love you.  I’m tryin’ to do right by you.”

Bucky sits up, sighing in frustration.  “OK, OK. Look, I know that.  I just…  I want you, Stevie.”

“Yeah, I got that message.  And I’m right there with you.  But I’m playin’ for keeps here, Bucky.  I pushed too hard before.  I’m not makin’ that mistake again.”

“Even if it kills me?”  Bucky’s voice is half-shriek, half-whine.

“If it didn’t kill me before, it won’t kill you now.  Quit bein’ such a baby.”

Bucky smirks up at Steve from where he’s sitting on the mat.  “I’m not gonna quit tryin’.”

“Good.  Don’t. Because I’m not always gonna say no.”

 As good as his word, Bucky continues to try to seduce Steve.  Steve’s maintained his boundaries so far, but Bucky’s been steadily eroding them.  Steve’s willing to make out, shirts optional, and he’s OK with them getting a little handsy sometimes.  Bucky’s even been able to get him so worked up he agreed to mutual hand jobs a couple times, but so far he hasn’t been able to get Steve’s pants off.  It’s been frustrating in the extreme, but it’s also been the right thing to do.  Bucky’s never going to give Steve the satisfaction of telling him that, but he knows it’s true.  

Three months after the bunker mission, Bucky goes to Spain.  Natasha’s experiences are similar to those of the Troops in many ways, and that’s already proved to be a very good thing on a number of occasions.  They’re free and adapting much faster than anyone expected, but they’re still traumatized and living in an alien world.  Natasha has some things she needs to take care of, and she thinks Bucky needs to be there in her absence.  It’s definitely time for him to help out, and he feels ready.  

In the hangar, Steve kisses Bucky good bye and they agree they’ll see each other in two weeks, either at the Compound or in Spain, if Bucky’s still there.  

“I been thinkin’ maybe, when you get back, we could talk about makin’ some changes around here,” Steve says, holding Bucky close and whispering in his ear.

“Yeah?  Like what?”

“Like, maybe… sleeping arrangements.”

Bucky pulls back, completely surprised.  “You son of a bitch!  You say that to me now, when I’m leavin’ the country?”

“I thought it’d be good for us to, you know, think about it first.”

“Oh, I’ll be thinkin’ about it, all right.  C’mere, you.”

Bucky kisses the daylights out of Steve for a full five minutes before the rest of the crew making the flight begin to be obvious about their impatience. Smiling into Steve’s eyes, he says, “I love you.  I’ll see you in two weeks.”  Then he wiggles his eyebrows.  “Naked.”

“You really know how to ruin a romantic moment, you know that?”

Bucky hugs Steve again, chuckling, and Steve whispers, “I love you, Buck.”

 Marya’s brother, now called Dmitriy, meets the Quinjet with a truck, to take Bucky and the others, and the supplies they’ve brought, back to where the Troops are building their Compound.  They won’t find it without an escort, and even if they did, they wouldn’t make it past the perimeter that’s been set up.  

Dmitriy and Bucky introduce themselves, never actually having spoken before.  It’s a solemn moment when they first stand in front of one another.  It’s a little jarring when Dmitriy speaks Spanish; Bucky had just assumed he’d speak Russian.  When he asks about it, Dmitriy shrugs and says they speak the local languages for everyday.  They’ll stand out less, and there’s something symbolic about choosing to live their new life in a language other than Russian.  

Bucky nods, and mentions that he’s been on missions in this part of Spain and speaks Basque in addition to Spanish.  Dmitriy smiles.  “I thought you might.  You are our brother, after all.”

“I haven’t been much of a brother up to now,” Bucky admits, chagrined.  “But I’m here now.”

“Sergeant, I never had the chance to talk to Marya about you and her.  There was no time.  But I’ve been told enough to appreciate the fact that you mourn her. I understand and, if it makes any sense, I’m thankful that you care that much.”

“I do.  I loved her, Dmitriy.”

“Then we have that in common, along with everything else.”  

Bucky doesn’t quite understand why the hard hug he and Dmitriy share feels so healing, maybe something about knowing that Dmitriy feels Marya’s loss as much as Bucky does.  But he knows from that moment that he wants to make a friend of Dmitriy.

“You can call me Bucky, you know.”  

“No, Sergeant,” Dmitriy says with a grin he doesn’t even try to hide.  “I can’t.”

That gets a belly laugh from Bucky, even though Dmitriy’s resemblance to his sister when he says it hurts like hell.  He supposes he better strap in for a lot of that while he’s here.

 As promised, when Bucky’s been in Spain for two weeks, Steve comes to the Compound for a few days.  Bucky’s part of Dmitriy’s work crew framing the first building of the Troops’ Compound, now that they’ve dug and poured the foundation, so he can’t be there to welcome Steve.   He’s more than a little aware of what time Steve’s arriving, though, and he sees the truck arrive.  

Dmitriy has proven to be every bit the smartass Marya was, and insists that the crew can’t do without Bucky until they get done with the section they’re working on and break for lunch.  His shit-eating grin tells Bucky he’s well aware of the situation, but he refuses to relent. As they work, Bucky keeps expecting to see Steve come walking out of the grove of trees where the Troops are currently housed in a large grouping of yurts, but he doesn’t.  By the time noon arrives, Bucky’s pretty much bordering on blue balls and about ready to give Dmitriy a demonstration of what his left arm can do.  Finally, he hears Dmitriy give a shrill, melodic whistle and jumps, rolling as he lands, from the building’s ridgepole to the ground.  As he strides rapidly toward the yurts, removing his toolbelt as he goes, he hears Dmitriy’s deep laugh follow him.

Steve’s not in Bucky’s small yurt when he tears the door open, but to Bucky’s utter joy, he sees that Steve’s dropped his bag on the end of the bed.  Bucky feels another jolt of arousal as he realizes that means Steve’s staying here.  With him.

As he stalks over toward the biggest yurt, where he thinks Steve must be, Bucky belatedly realizes that he was so anxious to see him that he��s forgotten to put a shirt on or wash up.  He can tell that a lot of his hair’s pulled free of the elastic at the back of his neck, because some of it is in his eyes. But he immediately forgets again when he finds Steve deep in conference with Bruce and Sam, going over blueprints and details of the water system they’re building. Once Bucky sees Steve, he doesn’t see anything else.  He only dimly realizes that Steve’s practically drooling, staring at Bucky’s sweaty, dirty bare chest and flushed face.

They just stare at each other long enough for Sam to roll his eyes and groan disgustedly.  “For fuck’s sake, you guys, I’m gonna get pregnant if you keep lookin’ at each other like that.  Go be alone, and remember yurts have fabric walls.  Damn.”

Bruce blushes and looks down at the table covered with blueprints, drawings, and plans.

Bucky and Steve are in each other’s arms instantly, and they hold one another tightly for so long that, when they let go, they realize that Bruce and Sam have left the yurt without their realizing it.  Their mouths meet hungrily, greedily, and that takes a long time, too.

“I saw your stuff on my bed.  You stayin’ with me?”  When Steve opens his mouth to answer, Bucky says quickly, “And you should know that the only answer I’m gonna accept is yes.”

“Yes,” Steve smiles widely.

It’s hard for Bucky to kiss Steve the way he wants when he’s smiling so much, but he’s also suddenly way too horny to kiss much, anyway, without ending up fucking Steve right here on the floor of Bruce’s office.  

“I made us a picnic,” Bucky says breathlessly.

“Really?  That’s what you wanna do right now?”

“Sam’s right.  Yurts have fabric walls.  And it’s beautiful here.  There’s a hill about a mile away with a clearing.  Sunshine, blanket on the grass… You… Me…”

“Fuck,” Steve gasps.  “Sign me the hell up.”

They practically run to pick up the packed picnic supplies Bucky’s stashed just inside the door of his yurt and get to the clearing.  Steve doesn’t spend much time smoothing out the blanket, just shakes it out in front of him and then pulls Bucky down onto it.  Bucky doesn’t mean to literally tear Steve’s shirt off, but he also doesn’t give it a second thought when it happens.  Feeling Steve’s bare chest against his, the solidity of his muscular body in his arms, the heat and need in his kisses, is like air to Bucky.   He doesn’t know how he’s going to let go long enough to get Steve’s jeans off.

“I love you.  I love you so much, Stevie.”

“I love you, too, Buck.  You’re mine.”

“Yeah.  Fuck, yeah, I’m yours.  Always been yours.”

As it turns out, Steve’s not able to let Bucky go any more than Bucky can let go of Steve.  They end up clasping desperately at one another, mouths open to each other and tongues stroking each other when they remember, grinding painfully hard cocks together until they both come, hissing filthy praise and their love for each other.

“Jeez, Buck, we haven’t done that since we were seventeen.”

“’Bout time, then,” is all Bucky has to say between kisses down Steve’s jawline.

“We’re gonna be a sight walking back into the Compound.”

“There’s a creek,” Bucky mutters, moving lower to take a nipple into his still-greedy mouth.

“Fuck.”

At long last, after months of hot but frustrating make-out sessions and heavy petting, Bucky pulls Steve’s jeans off and takes all of him in for the first time. The sight is enough to make Bucky’s own jeans uncomfortable again, and he quickly peels them off.  Steve’s already hard again, too, and he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper when he sees Bucky reach into the picnic hamper and pull out a bottle of lube.  

“Planned this all along, huh?”

Bucky snorts.  “Sweetheart, I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking you pretty much nonstop for the last two weeks. Damn straight I planned this.”

Steve cries out as Bucky softly touches his hole wit warm, slippery fingers. “I ever tell you how fucking sexy you are?”

Bucky’s smile is almost too happy to be the predatory leer he’s going for.  “Tell me now, while I make all those dirty thoughts come true.”

“I love you,” Steve begins, his words broken and breath hitching as Bucky begins to lick lightly at the head of his cock.  “You’re so gorgeous.  I saw you in Bruce’s yurt just now and I just about lost it right there- oh, shit, Bucky! Fuck, your mouth is a lethal weapon…”

Bucky chuckles and begins a slow but definite rhythm, sliding his finger in and out of Steve while he continues teasing him with his tongue.  Steve’s moving his pelvis, letting Bucky know how fast to go.  “So fuckin’ good,” Bucky murmurs, sliding another finger into Steve as he relents and takes Steve’s cock into his mouth.

Steve’s shout of pleasure is a definite reason to be a mile away from the closest other people.  

“Oh, fuck, Bucky…  You feel so good.  I’ve wanted you for so long.  I…  Oh…”

“You gonna come, Sweetheart?  Yeah, come for me.  Oh, I would love that…”

Bucky barely gets the words out before Steve’s fucking into his mouth and screaming – there’s no other word for the sound he’s making – as he shoots down Bucky’s throat.  Bucky could easily come from watching that, just rubbing against the blanket on the soft grass, but he wants to be inside Steve when he comes next.  

By the time Steve’s starting to relax a little, Bucky’s got him fully ready and, although he just came, Steve’s still hard.  Gotta love that serum.  

“Fuck me, Buck.  Please, Baby, I need to feel you – us together – it’s been so fucking long…”

Bucky feels like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, and when he raises up on his knees, lifting Steve’s thighs to give himself a little more room, it feels like here, pushing his cock gently into Steve is the place he’s always supposed to have been.  He’s surprised to feel tears burn at the back of his eyes.  Despite the awkward stretch it takes, he leans over and kisses Steve’s lips, buried completely in the man he loves.

“Stevie…”

“Ungh...”

“I’m yours.  Always.”

“Mine.”

“Yours.  And you’re mine.”

He has to grit his teeth a little, but he wants to enjoy this moment, stroke after stroke, for as long as he can.  The sun is warm on his back, and there’s a sweet smell of green in the air, and Steve looks absolutely perfect lying beneath him, eyes boring into his, glowing with exertion and pleasure.  When he comes, Bucky doesn’t shout.  He whispers, breathing hard, “I love you, Steve.  I love you.  I’m yours. I’m yours…”

It’s dusk before they wander back into the Compound, holding hands and smiling quietly.  When they enter Bucky’s yurt, they see that someone has laid out supper for them on the table. Bucky knows they’re welcome at the communal evening meal, which makes this gift all the more thoughtful, especially because there’s nothing Bucky and Steve want more right now than to be alone together.  They can hear voices outside, and see the warm, flickering light of a few campfires, but it’s just a comforting backdrop for the small, blissed-out world inside the yurt where only the two of them exist.

 One of the reasons Steve’s at the Compound is that they are going to finish the mop-up of their destruction of Hydra.  On the day they’d taken the bunker, the team had purposely allowed Hydra the opportunity to call for help, to see who would answer.  Sam and Tony had destroyed the three helicopters that responded and, with support from Natasha, the Troops had traced them to a group The Avengers hadn’t known existed.  The Troops learned all they could about them.  It was as bad as they’d feared, and not something they could allow to grow.  

With the Troops, Steve and Bucky spend a few days destroying the group and its facility.  Bucky sees what Steve meant when they’d discussed this earlier.  The Troops are far too dangerous and naïve to be abandoned to their own devices, and they’re invaluable allies.  Besides caring deeply what happens to them, Bucky sees the wisdom of making sure their little community succeeds, and that The Avengers are the foundation for that success.

It’s an opportunity for Bucky to bond further with Dmitriy, and for Steve to get to know him.  Sitting around a fire back at the Compound the night they return from the raid, the three get as drunk as supersoldiers can, mild and temporary as alcohol’s affects on them are. They speak English, because the U.S. Army has never had Hydra’s focus on languages.  Steve could learn them ridiculously easily, as they all can, but he hasn’t bothered much.  They talk about a lot of things, enjoying each other’s company and making informal plans for the future.  

“I gotta ask, Dmitriy, about that scar on your face,” Steve says, slurring his words just a little.  “How’s someone who got the serum develop a scar?  I never do.  Bucky doesn’t.”

“We don’t, either,” Dmitriy answers.  “I think I must have had this before the serum.  I don’t ever remember not having it.”

Bucky asks, “Are you guys gonna work on that?  Your memories, I mean?  Bruce has some theories.”  

“We already are.  More with Sam than Bruce, though.  Nobody’s very comfortable with the idea of doctors, period, and we’ve had about enough of people playing with our minds.”

“Amen to that, Brother,” Bucky mutters, and downs the rest of the vodka he’s drinking.

“We’re more focused on the future.  As you know, we don’t really know what the serum does long-term.  We want to build a life here, which means we need to know some basics about what we can expect.  Our life spans, whether we could ever have children, those kinds of things. That’s what Bruce is working on, when he’s not designing septic systems.”

They enjoy a quiet laugh about that.

“And you two?  It’s not much of a secret that you’re having some sort of reunion, and it’s definitely not a secret what kind.”  Dmitriy smirks.  “What’s in your future?”

Steve looks at Bucky like he’s pretty much perfect and Bucky finds himself expecting a twinge of pain and shame that doesn’t come.  

“Whatever it is,” he says, squeezing Steve’s hand and looking into his too-blue eyes, “It’ll be together.”

[gauntie-o-dimm]

Hosea Matthews X Reader | Before, After What Happened In Saint Denis | Chapter 9-16

Originally posted this on AO3. This post is a continuation of the story, so you should read part 1, first. These are NOT spoiler free, but part 1 is. Read at your own risk, you gonna be sad.

Part 1 

Word count: 2300+ Warnings: Swearing, spoilers, death, pregnancy, angst

Chapter 9 - Preparations

'What have you and Dutch been discussing so often lately?' you said with genuine interest as you took a bite from the stew Pearson had made. Hosea looked up from his dish, raising an eyebrow before putting his spoon in his plate. 'The bank of Saint Denis turns out to be loaded with money, so we are planning out a big heist.' he explained after wiping his mouth with a piece of cloth.

Concern made your stomach churn. 'A heist? Again?' 'Dutch said we need the money, and trust me darling, we really do.' he reached out over the table, putting his hand on yours for a moment. 'But Saint Denis is huge... And there will be so many Pinkertons there!' 'We'll be fine, really. As long as we have each other, being on the run from the law isn't all that bad.' he said with a wry smile. 'All that is left are some preparations and a distraction to be planned.'

'Can I come too?' The question had slipped from you before you even realized it. As protective as he was, Hosea shook his head. 'No, darling, I don't want to risk losing you.'

You sighed, looking at him with a thoughtful gaze. For a moment, your hand went to your stomach.

'Listen, Hosea, there is something that I need to tell y--'

'Hosea!' Dutch's voice hollered through the camp, beckoning for him to come over. Hosea sighed. 'I am sorry, (Y/n), please hold that thought and I will be back in a moment.'

You exhaled deeply as you watched him leave towards his friend, knowing that the moment he spoke about would most likely become an hour or two. In silence, you finished your stew.

~

Chapter 10 - Don’t Do Anything Stupid

Hosea’s hand rested on your cheek so sweetly that yours went up to hold it right where it was.

‘Will you be careful then?’ He looked painfully handsome in his suit. ‘Of course.’ he reassured, ‘I will come back to you, my love.’

‘Hosea.’ Dutch said with a stern voice, ushering him to hurry up. You embraced the older man in front of you, inhaling his scent deeply. ‘Just... Don’t do anything stupid.’

‘Robbing a bank is kind of stupid, (Y/n)...’ Hosea said with a small chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. ‘I love you...’ he whispered, ‘I love you, too...’ Softly, you pressed your lips a bit tighter against his. You didn't want him to taste your worry.

He pulled back, giving you a small smile before turning to the wagon, climbing on the driver’s seat, next to Abigail. ‘Be careful!’ you exclaimed as the caravan of outlaws started to move. Hosea made meaningful eye-contact with you for a moment. You kept looking as they disappeared into the distance until you couldn’t see them anymore.

‘(Y/n).’ Susan Grimshaw reassured, ‘Don’t you worry.’ You nodded, looking at the ground.

‘Hey, are you OK?’

‘I... I am pregnant.’

‘With Hosea’s?’

‘With who else? I haven’t had my period in nearly three months, my breasts hurt and I can’t keep in any breakfast I eat. Plus, I’ve been gaining some weight at my stomach...’

Susan hummed, nodding a little. ‘I already thought so... It is slightly noticeable, you know. If you’re a woman, that is. Men don’t see such things... Have you told him yet?’

‘What?’

‘Have you told Hosea that you’re probably expecting?’

‘No... I tried, but something came in between. I’ll tell him once they return.’ Susan smiled at this. ‘Good. Then we’ll have a huge party! After running to another camp, probably...’

You hummed in agreement. ‘But until then, all we have to do is wait.’

~

Chapter 11 - The Crash Of The World

The returning group was awfully thin. In the depth of night, two figures appeared at the horizon. Horse hooves trembled through the ground. You stood, wiping the creases from your skirt. Judging by the two postures, Hosea was not among them... Maybe something came in between, or those two had forgotten to bring something...?

All of camp gathered at the horse stations as the exhausted Abigail and Charles dismounted, out of breath and most certainly not followed by anyone - Abigails answer to Susan’s panicking question.

‘Arthur, Javier, Micah, Dutch and Bill are on a ship to God knows where, it was their only option to escape. As for—‘ Charles halted in the middle of his sentence.

Abigail and Charles shared a glance and the woman sharply nodded towards you. Worry filled your veins as said man put a calm hand upon your shoulder and lead you away from the group. ‘I am sorry, (Y/n)... We were surrounded by Pinkertons, and they had grabbed him as a hostage. Before we could do something, Milton just... I am so sorry, (Y/n), but Hosea didn’t make it, he... ... ...’

Charles’ voice sounded like a blurred mumble now as you felt your heart break into a million pieces. A cry of agony escaped your lips, startling the group that was standing somewhere away, also just taking in the horrible news of the fallen ones—

—You fell to your knees in the dirt, but you didn’t care—The only thing you knew how to do was how to cry, and so you held your face in your hands as an endless stream of tears and misery shattered your soul.

There was no comfort in the gang’s words, nor in their arms that were thrown around you so friendly - You could hear nothing of their words and couldn’t regain consciousness after chugging two— three cups of water — no, your entire world was taken right then and there.

This had to be a nightmare, you assured yourself after finally falling asleep against Susan’s shoulder, and when you woke up, you would see him right away, with the newest paper in one hand and some fresh coffee in the other — yes, you were sure!

The rest of camp packed up in chaos, putting you in the back of a wagon alongside some tents and bedrolls.

~

Chapter 12 - A Proposition

‘He didn’t even know that he was going to be a father.’ The sudden remark that you whispered to Sadie hit you so hard that it took your breath away. ‘Holy fuck...’

The blonde girl put a hand on your shoulder. ‘Please just don’t say such things.’ ‘That day they left... That was the final time we saw each other!’

Sadie noticed you were about to break down again. ‘Hush now. Say, what do you think if we sneak into the morgue and get him and Lenny out? Give them a proper burial, would that comfort you?’

You had no idea of the state Hosea could be in, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to see him once more. You nodded eagerly, ‘If you’d do that, I’d be eternally grateful!’

~

Chapter 13 - Last Rites

He did in fact look dead, you pondered as you hold his limp body in your lap, and his skin was icy cold - not only from being in the icy morgue for a few days. You didn’t dare to kiss him, afraid of the taste, the smell, the feel...

‘(Y/n).’ Charles softly spoke, ‘It’s time.’ You weakly nodded, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you carefully laid Hosea’s head from your legs onto the ground again, standing up and dusting down your clothes. With much care, Charles lifted him up, laying him in the grave next to Lenny’s.

Abigail put an arm around you as sobs started to leave you, making you unable to hear the last rites Swanson read to them. Perhaps this was something that could help you cope, you wondered, but maybe it was not. Whatever way, it was fucking miserable.

~

Chapter 14 - Betrayal

It had been weeks before they returned, Arthur finding Lakay at first. The rest soon followed - And then, a Pinkerton attack filled with blood and bodies pumped full of lead.

The gang had to move once more, the stress taking a toll on your body. As your stomach started to grow, so did your longing toward Hosea - you missed him dearly and still clung onto his clothes to inhale his smell.

But it was fading, much to your dismay.

Ruckus at the camp caused you to let go of the light blue striped shirt, putting it down carefully before moving towards the commotion.

Molly’s red hair was messily braided as she stumbled around, slurring her words thickly. It turned out that Uncle had found her drunk at Saint Denis. The fight was already full blown, with Molly throwing insults at Dutch's head, about how she is not his to own. He had it coming, you mused to yourself, before she muttered something that made the hairs of your neck stand on end.

'I told them!'

'I'm sorry? Dutch grumbled, and Molly soon responded: 'Yeah, I told 'em and I will tell 'em again! Now I've got Gods ear!' 'You told who what?' a demand came from Dutch's chapped lips. 'Mr. Milton and Mr. Ross... About the bank robbery! And I wanted them to kill you!' 'You did what?!' Dutch drew his revolver, pointing it at her.

'I loved you, you goddamn bastard! Go on, shoot me!'

Arthur put his hand on his shoulder: 'She's crazy, she ain't worth it.' 'You know the rules!' the leader of the gang grunted.

'You aren't so big now, are we your majesty?!' Molly said with a mocking bow.

The feeling of betrayal became too much for you to keep quiet.

‘You!’ You suddenly spat, causing all attention to go to you. You approached her directly, holding one hand under your swollen stomach, the other pointing at her in a confronting way.

‘Because of your stupid fucking egoism, I will have to raise this child without a father! Because you were too self-centered, all of us have to live with the grief that this left behind - My child will never know the great man Hosea was! This gang will never feel the same again without the men we've lost, all because of you! The only damned bastard here is you!’

Molly was silent, looking at you with a confused gaze as you started sobbing loudly. All Susan needed was one glance at your broken form before she took the shot. With a thud, Molly O’Shea fell to the ground, blood as red as her curls.

~

Chapter 15 - Mourning Never Ends

A heavy cry left your lips as you pushed as hard as you could. The sharp smell of blood and sweat was thick in the dark room. ‘Come on, (Y/n), just a little longer. I think I can see the head...’

You clenched onto the sheets, wishing all the more that his hand was there to hold and squeeze as pain overwhelmed you—

— ‘There it is!’ The pain reduced and you felt the baby slip out of you — ‘It’s a boy!’ Tilly cheered in delight. He immediately started wailing. She pushed him into your arms right after cutting the umbilical cord. He was still slick and grimy, but you held him to you nevertheless. The blanket you had around your naked upper body slipped from you and you laid him against your bare chest, shushing him to calm him down. ‘I know, my boy. That is what I want to do too so often when I see what a shit-hole the world has become...’ you whispered, only loud enough for him to hear. ‘There was happiness in here. But it has all faded away as the innocent folk died, like your father, Arthur, Molly O’Shea, Miss Susan... Yet you make the world a little better... Maybe you can be my new happiness...’

Tilly smiled at the motherly scene as she took a bucket of water from above the fire. It wasn’t boiling - just warm enough to be pleasant for a newborn. As the child had calmed, Tilly took him from you, gently rinsing his skin in the bucket for he didn’t need much more space.

‘Have you decided on a name yet?’ she asked as she handed him back to you, taking a clean rag, dampening it and dabbing it against your sweaty forehead. A tired smile came over your features.

‘Melvin. Melvin Hosea Matthews.’

‘What a wonderful name that is.’ Tilly whispered. You wryly grinned at the thought of your passed significant other and all the great memories you had of him. Time heals all wounds, they say, but you doubted it far from being true. However, if this was a final gift from Hosea to you - a child with his features, a new purpose - it was everything you could’ve wished for.

~

Chapter 16 - Epilogue

Melvin looked more like Hosea every day. You squinted against the light of the lowering sun, enjoying the glass of red wine in your hand, watching ever closely over your seven-year-old who was darting around the field of flowers.

‘Careful with her, Mel!’ you warned him as he took the hand of Tilly's little daughter, wanting to drag her along to play. A sigh left your lips at the sight of both of them laughing - how proud Hosea would’ve been.

‘You know,’ Mary-Beth began, looking up from her writing, ‘I am sure that somewhere in the universe, if you hope hard enough along with having a little faith, that he watches upon you and Melvin very closely and protects you from evil.’

You rolled your eyes before sipping some of the drink you held. ‘This world is damned.’ you spoke, ‘And every day it will get damned more, because Hosea is getting further and further away.’

‘I disagree.’ Tilly Pierre said softly, nodding towards Melvin. ‘Within him, he lives on.’ You kept silent.

‘Every day Melvin will be more like his father. You will tell him plenty stories of him, about who he was, about what he fought for. And as time passes, you will find your Hosea within him. Melvin is part of both you and Hosea, which makes him worth living for.’ Mary-Beth mused.

And for once, you found comfort in Mary-Beth’s words.

[youhearstatic]

Exit Interview for a Fic

(or: 10 Questions Every Fic Writer Secretly Wants to be Asked)

I’ve decided that I’m going to do one of these whenever I finish a fic as a sort of exit interview with myself. It’s too easy to forget stuff as you move on and time passes, you know? I want to remember what I felt as soon as it was finished.

So here’s a bunch of questions about Losing Time.

Under a readmore because again, it’s long and pretty really self indulgent! (There are some behind the scenes/further explanation of things if you are interested though.)

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite and why? I’m still going to say the unfinished Barry POV even though that’s awful of me. I know I keep saying this but there’s a section in that story that I’m just so freaking proud of and can’t wait to share... But I have to wait because the fic is unfinished and I can’t put that one up episodically. So even though it’s unfinished that section makes it my favorite.

Having said that? I’m really damn proud of this! Putting up something one chapter/part/episode at a time was nerve wracking. Hoping I’ve laid down enough pieces to pick up later? And I didn’t know what I was doing for at least the first third, and only an idea for the next third. And I FINISHED IT! So yeah, proud of all of that. Plus there was a lot of stuff that’s outside my wheelhouse. So I pushed my boundaries in a lot of ways that I’m also proud of.

2. Which scene was your favorite to write in Losing Time? This is going to sound awful but... part 10 - the scene where Barry/Sildar goes through the portal. That’s when it felt to me like the story changed gears if that makes sense. Up to that point it was just so. much. talking. It was necessary! But I felt like I was doing a really crappy job telling a story when it was just so much standing around talking.

And just for an early scene that made me have hope there was something good here: Lup helping Barry/Sildar with the panic/asthma attack. Lup is so ferocious and caring and just this amazing force of nature and that moment between the two of them answered the question “what would happen if they met and he didn’t know her?” Obviously the answer was: he’d fall instantly in love with her of course. She came in and terrified him and still he was putty in her hands thirty seconds later.

3. Which part of Losing Time was hardest to write? I think part 11 was hardest. Like I just said, it felt like the story had just changed gears and I knew where things needed to go but only in the vaguest sense. I sat looking at an empty page for the longest with that section, for sure.

And then of course the end of part 14. That scene needed to carry weight and the whole time I was writing it, right up until that last line showed up, I felt like I was failing miserably.

4. If you could change anything in Losing Time, what would it be? I wish I were better at writing Taako. I feel like I understand his thinking and motivations? But his speaking style is really hard for me to emulate. I don’t want to lean into it too hard and make him ridiculous because he’s not! So I probably err too hard the other way, unfortunately.

5. Did you make an outline for Losing Time? Did you stick to it? No outline at all. I started this thing with a vague “what if” idea: what if Barry were suddenly younger? It turned into more what ifs. What if Barry was suddenly - after canon, with Lup there - alive without his memories? How would everyone else deal with it? How would that effect he and Lup? I certainly didn’t write part one with any clue what was going to happen - I didn’t even know it was going to become a full fic. 

6. Which scenes did you cut, and which were added in Losing Time? There was another scene with Merle but it was giving too much information too soon. I pushed it back and then it just didn’t fit anymore. I also had a brief conversation with Magnus but I knew I wanted this to be the four of them - Barry, Lup, Taako, and Kravitz - so that didn’t go very far before I cut it.

Also, originally they were not going to tell him what was going on. Then I was like... hold up. He’s an adult. Lup would respect him more than that. She would absolutely argue to tell him the truth. So there was more of them keeping things from him that got cut out.

7. Who was your favorite character to write in Losing Time? Lup. I think at this point in the timeline she’s still struggling with the last decade and trying to figure out what their lives are like now. I think she’s just starting to figure that stuff out and then this knocks her for a loop. (heh)  I was a little worried in the earlier parts when she and Taako were talking and just kept having this friction. I didn’t want it to seem like I was having her just be this emotional ping pong ball bouncing all over but... she kind of is? She and Taako are butting heads there. It’s for the same reason though - they are scared and worried and neither are dealing with their emotions very well. Taako has seen that he’s got the tendency to try to cut out people before they can lead to pain and at one point he’s reminding himself not to do that with Kravitz but then he’s totally doing that with Kravitz. And he’s doing it with Barry. To part of him, he’s decided this is already a failure and he is going to shut that part of himself down and stop caring about Barry before it hurts. But dude, it’s too late! And that attitude - like Lup understands but also she can. not. take. it. But then it spirals back around to her feeling like if she’d been around he wouldn’t have gotten this bad about things. So she’s feeling so many things. I really hope I handled it well enough to make that clear but I suspect it’s a weak point.

OH WAIT I FORGOT. Favorite character to write? THE RAVEN QUEEN. I can’t imagine trying to write her for more than brief glimpses but good grief, she is SO much fun to write. My favorite scene ever (as yet unshared sorry) involves her and I just... ahhh. I feel like there is ALWAYS so much going on behind her words. She is absolutely an enigmatic deity. Also, yeah, totally ship her and Istus like for real. But also I think she plays it cool. She plays EVERYTHING cool. Unless she’s mad. 

8. Which came first, the title or the fic? The title was basically me going: okay if I’m going to start putting this on AO3 it has to have a name so... It was the best I could come up with.

9. Which idea came to you first in Losing Time? Just the general idea of de-aged Barry.

10. What are some facts readers may not know about Losing Time? Apologies, this is gonna get really long! 

I really struggled with a few things: 

Lup’s emotions, like I mentioned above.

The Barry/Sildar name thing. It just started as part of his confusion when Lup first comes in. I headcanon hard the thing about Barry was a typo and the twins never let it go and then they added the Bluejeans part. I feel like for a little while it maybe bothered him but then he realized it came from a place of love - the twins tease everyone about everything and that was the earliest sign they accepted him - and so he embraced the name to the point that Lucretia didn’t try to erase it with the void fish. (In my Barry POV story he tries to give his ‘real’ name when alive and memory-less but it just doesn’t feel right so he goes by Barry. So when the coin says “Your name is Barry Bluejeans” it’s not just saying: here’s proof I know what I’m talking about. It’s saying: here’s proof you know what I’m taking about.)  Then in this story, the name thing became a bigger issue. It was him standing up for himself, making himself a full fledged part of things, not just a wounded bird they were dragging along and looking out for. (Which is also why he knocks out the guy with the empty health pot. Even without magic, Barry is a fucking scrapper who will try his damnedest to hold his own.) And I felt like Lup would absolutely respect his wishes on that. Taako slips up not because he doesn’t care but because he’s so much more off the cuff about things. It’s not coming from disrespect, it’s habit. But what I really went back and forth on was how does the narrative refer to him? Is it confusing to switch in the middle? I decided it would be more confusing to call him Barry while the characters called him Sildar. Also, obviously, it was going to be part of the conclusion. The most confusing was when they’re talking about things that happened to Barry before he was de-aged. Kravitz goes back and forth then just calls that person Barry-of-three-days-ago which seemed a very Kravitz way to handle things.

Writing that scene at the end of part 14. I knew that was coming for a while. Sildar had to make the decision that saving the innocent mattered. I knew there’d be a happy ending. I knew what the Raven Queen was up to. I knew pretty quickly (though not immediately!) that Lup referencing him saying “last first kiss” would come back. But that scene... it was important! It needed to be big! It needed to feel like a sacrifice! And I was writing it and it was... okay. And then, without thought or plan I typed “and then he let her go.” And reader, I fucking cried. I cried and I shut my laptop. I’ve NEVER cried at my own writing. Now, I’m well aware that the line only has power because of GRIFFIN’S words and I’m fine with that. I’m not trying to claim any skill or effectiveness. I’m saying it was a gift that finally gave the scene the weight it needed. The scene got better on editing but I could work on it for a hundred years and never get it to where I wanted it to be. But that line redeemed it, got it as close as it was going to get. Having said all that? I know that people will HATE me for cliffhanger-ing there. I honestly thought for a long time that it would end on a very long part 14. And then it kept getting longer and longer and I scrolled back up going... where can I break this and... yeah. I’m sorry. That’s where it needed to break. That’s the shift in things. That’s where the pause belonged.

And then...... Sildar stabs himself. I knew that dagger was coming a long time back. I was pretty sure when Taako asked Angus to research he was going to find info on the dagger. I knew the dagger - this ancient magic weapon that actually belonged to The Raven Queen (part of why she was SO FURIOUS) - was the magic explanation for what was happening. And I knew that he’d already been hit with it. (I hope it’s implied clearly enough in the story that is what happened even though the specific events of 3 days ago are never clearly explained.) And look, it’s rough stuff. I knew and I know. But I literally could not think of any other way for it to work. He had to make that decision. This was not him committing suicide. I realize that’s a fucking razor thin margin but that was not my intent. This was him saying, I fucked up and while it’s not entirely my fault I now take responsibility for this innocent and will do what I can to fix the situation. And since he wasn’t a reaper anymore... His touch didn’t work, his blood didn’t work... because literally his soul was the key. Also... in case it’s not clear I’ll say it here: The Raven Queen totally knew this was the best case secnario but she couldn’t say that. Her hands were tied. That’s why she’s ANGRY AS HELL. Someone fucked with her people and she’s furious. Sildar is out of her hands. He really was clear of his lichdom and his service to her and had he died without the ‘decision’ between him and Istus going the way that it did, his soul would have released to the Primordial Soup/Sea of Souls. The Queen knew this was the only way this could work out and she couldn’t influence it. That’s why she couldn’t manipulate space to get him on that path. She only did it the first time to protect him. She booked out of her court because she could not participate any further in the proceedings without influencing things she wasn’t allowed to alter. In the Stockade, she’s the one who opened the portal for the innocent. The string disappeared (Istus’s dominion over him) and she regifted him the feather (her dominion over him and all that entailed.)

Oh, and one last, small thing. Just for bookending, when Barry checks to see if he can summon his staff? He says the exact same thing he said before he went through the portal. Only this time, of course, it works. I hoped that was proof enough that everything was fixed.

If you’ve read all this, thank you! I feel like I owe you a prize or something. Thanks so much for sticking with me through this project. It was fun. I hope there’s more stuff like this to come!

[redditnosleep]

Has Anyone Heard of The Left/Right Game?

by NeonTempo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Final)

Hi Guys,

Firstly, I want to apologise for not being at my laptop for the past few days. I had to attend a wedding in Scotland for one of my uni friends. They booked it in mid-week and, between you and me, I don’t think it’s going to last which means not only have I neglected you guys, but I’ve also wasted money on a rental suit and a John Lewis tea set.

As always thank you for your help in my ongoing attempt to find Alice. I’m now in full contact with the radio show she was working for, and they’ll be sending over Rob’s submission to the show as soon as they can. I’ve also looked up every town named Jubilation and have contacted residents from each of them. None of them have the particular junction mentioned in the previous log, “Sycamore Row” and “Acer Street”. I even combed google maps to make sure. I’m not sure what town Alice passed through last February but it doesn’t seem to exist on public record.

The guy who promised to retrace the route from the mirror shop came through, and has sent me a few possible addresses for Rob. He also mentioned looking into the game itself more. I’m not sure what he means by that but I want to be clear, please don’t play this game on my behalf. I don’t want that on my conscience.

Ok, without further ado, here’s the following log.

Thanks again.

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 10/02/2017

(Possible Opening) (I want to address you, the listener, for a moment, with an advance notice concerning the following episode. I’m sure it’s not been lost on you that every installment of the series so far has played host to some strange, unexplainable occurrence, and spanned a great many miles of travel. It goes without saying this has been by design. I’ve been summarising the countless hours of uneventful meandering and taking extra care to document the strange phenomena we’ve encountered along the way. I wanted the story to be fast moving, to have a real feel of progress with every chapter.

If that sense of exploratory intrigue is why you’re listening to this show, I completely understand. I’m certain it’s a primary draw for almost all of you; the twists, the turns, the mysterious, strange encounters along an impossible road.

But if that is the case, I feel it’s my duty to inform you that, apart from a few notable exceptions, there will be almost no ground covered in this segment, and the monsters we encounter will be all too human; stress, divisiveness, discomfort and, as one might imagine, grief.

If you want to read the synopsis of this episode on the website and wait for the next part, then you’ll be all caught up and I’m sure we’ll be back on our way, heading once more into the great unknown. But I feel it’s important to give the aftermath of Ace’s capture its own episode, in part due to the significance of the revelations that are unearthed in its wake, but also as a gesture of deference to the man we lost.

This is the story of our second night on the road.)

As we make the left turn, the horrifying space behind us is quickly replaced by a quiet emptiness ahead. The Wrangler crawls, defeated, toward the waiting convoy. The remaining four cars are parked haphazardly, taking up more than half the road. Rob drifts to the far end of the tarmac, looking to overtake and resume formation. Both of his hands rest on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on some distant point in space. It’s not hard to imagine that behind the focus and the quiet control, there’s a man in turmoil, a man who can’t bring himself to say anything, in fear of saying too much.

AS: This is Bristol to all cars. We’re heading back on the road. Get yourselves in formation and make way for those around you. We’ve got a while to drive before we stop for the night.

LILITH: Bristol where’s Ro… Ferryman?

AS: Ferryman’s here.

APOLLO: Where’s Ace?

AS: Ace is… Ace didn’t make it across.

APOLLO: Uhh what?

LILITH: What the fuck? Bristol where is he?

It would be simple to describe what had taken place, or at least summarise the barest facts; what happened to Ace, where he is now, why he isn’t coming back. But for some reason, I can’t utter a word about what's transpired. Something about the event itself makes it impossible to retell, as if the requisite phrases have been locked behind glass.

AS: We need to get to the stopping point. It isn’t safe to stay here.

Shortly after we’d turned the corner out of Sycamore Row, Rob implied that the rest of the days’ drive would be uneventful. Had he waited just a few minutes longer, he would have been entirely correct. We’re on the road for another four hours, both of us quietly attending to our own preoccupations as the forest gradually thins out. The landscape gives way to rolling cornfields, that stretch out beyond the horizon on both sides.

Nothing notable happens, which is ironic, as I find myself typing up a lot more notes than I need.

With the sun descends through an orange sky as we pull into a clearing, beside a wild grove of apple trees. Rob turns off the ignition and the two of us sit in silence. Rob’s need to concentrate on driving had been a good excuse to stay quiet, a good excuse to not face each other. Now the wheels aren’t turning however, and the true reason for our mutual reticence is all too clear.

AS: Do you think he’s dead?

ROB: I don’t know.

Rob’s response isn’t reassuring, and I’m oddly grateful for that. There are no comforting words he can give me, and any attempt would have seemed horrifically insincere, a mockery of the situation’s onerous gravity. Anyway, given the circumstances of Ace’s capture, I’m not even sure which answer I want to hear.

Lilith appears at my window, rapping her knuckles against the glass with an aggressive impatience. I’d expect nothing less about now. Everyone in the convoy has been made to follow a unilateral order, my order, without explanation. They’ve been travelling for hours accompanied by the glaring absence of another human being. Looking in the wing mirror, I glimpse the rest of the convoy, standing by their cars, watching the Wrangler expectantly.

Rob’s hands still haven’t left the wheel.

With a sharp intake of breath, I push the door open and step out onto the grass. The ground is soft below me as I walk over to the group. There’s recently been rain. I begin to address the rough semicircle, it almost feels like one of Rob’s briefings.

EVE: What’s happening Bristol?

APOLLO: Did Ace turn back?

I meet Apollo’s eye. For the briefest of moments, I consider telling them all exactly that. Maybe it would save them from the slow, heavy ache that’s currently weighing down my chest. Maybe it would just save me from a difficult conversation. Either way, I know I can't lie to them. They deserve the truth, however unpleasant.

AS: No he didn’t turn back; they crippled his car.

LILITH: The tow truck? Did he get out?

The answer doesn't come easily. I’m being pressed to say the words aloud and, in doing so, to fully acknowledge what happened. It feels like I’m being driven to a funeral, like I’m being verbally marched towards an open casket.

EVE: What happened to him?... Bristol…

ROB: He’s dead, Eve.

I hadn’t heard Rob step out of the car when he reaches the group. It’s hard to hide my relief as he takes over proceedings, addressing the group matter-of-factly. Now it really is like one of his briefings.

ROB: Two guys in the tow truck coming outta Jubilation. They got him. They took him back with them to the town. Way they were treatin’ him he won’t last long.

BONNIE: Oh goodness…

EVE: What? Rob what’re they going to do to him?

ROB: I can’t tell you. Nothing like this ever happened before.

LILITH: Well we need to go back.

ROB: That ain’t gonna happen.

LILITH: We’re not going to fucking abandon him.

AS: Lilith…

LILITH: We’re going back!

ROB: No we’re not.

APOLLO: Me and Rob can go. You know the place right Rob?

ROB: The kid’s dead Apollo.

LILITH: But he was alive when you last saw him?

ROB That’s right.

LILITH: So what point did you decide he was dead?

ROB: When I saw him being carried away with a fucking tow hook sticking out his mouth! Goddamn it.

Rob shouldn’t have said that. I understand his reasons of course; he wants to convey an important truth, that nothing can be done, or could have been done, to save Ace. His ghastly choice of words does the job, but it also sends a ripple of disturbance through the crowd, planting in everyone’s minds the gruesome image I’ve been trying all day to uproot.

Bonnie covers her mouth in shock and sorrow. Eve turns noticeably pale, and even Lilith, who is intent on leading the questioning, is taken aback.

LILITH: Did… did you see this Bristol?

I nod solemnly. The group bristles at my affirmation.

AS: I saw enough. I had to close my eyes when it happened, Rob tried to save him until…

Before I can finish my statement, my words are cut off by something truly unexpected. In spontaneous response to my words, a harsh outburst of mocking, sarcastic laughter rings out from within the convoy. One by one, we turn towards its source, until we all find ourselves staring at Bluejay. Her unapologetic chuckling fills the silent night air.

AS: Is something funny, Bluejay?

Bluejay tries to speak through her, all too slowly, waning laughter.

BLUEJAY: It’s just… you call yourself a journalist… Hah you closed your eyes, my god… there it is! There it is.

AS: I’m sorry?

BLUEJAY: Do you close your eyes for magic tricks too?

EVE: What the fuck Bluejay?

APOLLO: Come on, this isn’t the time.

BLUEJAY: Oh the time is well fucking overdue. Seriously are you all morons? The Left/Right Game is a hoax. It’s fake! Rob Guthard’s played you all like fucking children! Ace is fine, he’s probably an actor! Like the hitchhiker was an actor and those towns people too. I mean, come on.

The group is taken aback by Bluejay’s incredulous tirade. She’s clearly been holding her tongue since day one; our reaction to Ace’s capture representing just one step too far.

AS: I saw Rob shoot one of those townspeople with a hunting rifle. I saw the wound. It was real.

BLUEJAY: It was a blood filled squib. The rifle was probably loaded with blanks. You can buy both from any good theatrical retailer. Seriously what the fuck is wrong with you people?

LILITH: Ok firstly, I don’t like your fucking tone. Secondly, have you noticed that we’ve been the only cars on the road for almost two days? And what about Jubilation? Are you suggesting Rob hired out a whole town? That would be fucking impossible.

BLUEJAY: Oh yeah sure, THAT’S impossible, but it’s totally believable that we’re driving on a magic road. Maybe this is the highest budget scam I’ve ever seen but that’s all it is, a scam. And Al Jazeera here is giving him all the publicity he wants. I mean these people are sheep but you, you’re a fucking sycophant.

My mother used to tell me that you can’t strike a person from the high road. Staring down the barrel of Bluejay’s darkly self-satisfied grin, I’m more than tempted to make the descent.

AS: Ok Bluejay fair enough. I’m not going to pretend to know what’s going on here, for all I know you could be right. But why would Rob spend the production budget of a Hollywood film to trick a radio journalist and two vloggers. Trust me, our website does not get enough traffic for-

BLUEJAY: Oh don’t be so self-important. It’s not YOU he’s trying to fool.

Bluejay turns to Rob, fixing him a glare of pure, unadulterated triumph.

BLUEJAY: Admit it Rob. Admit that this is all a fucking farce. Admit that you knew who I was before I even got out of my car.

Rob’s face looks like it’s been carved from granite. The group looks to him for an answer, but he delivers his response directly to Bluejay, his eyes locked with hers.

ROB: It’s true… … I know who you are Denise.

The atmosphere changes, and for a moment, the night erupts into a foray of whispers. Rob’s answer clearly means something to everyone but me.

EVE: Denise?

LILITH: Denise Carver?

APOLLO: No. You serious?

AS: Sorry, who’s Denise Carver?

LILITH: She’s the biggest killjoy in the hobby.

BLUEJAY: Oh fuck you, you fucking air-head.

ROB: Denise here is a member of the Skeptics and Rationalist Institute of America. She likes to get herself invited on ghost hunting expeditions under a false name so she can debunk them publicly. You may've gathered she don’t believe in the supernatural.

BLUEJAY: Actually I do believe in the supernatural. I believe that it’s a billion dollar industry built on selling comfortable lies to the gullible, and it thrives on shitty journalists and attention whore bloggers who are willing to spread whatever shit they think will get them clicks.

AS: That’s why you took so long getting around the pine tree. Even when the truck was coming for Ace. You didn’t think any of it was real.

BLUEJAY: Uhh… did you?

As condescending as her delivery may be, her words spark a sudden realisation. It’s true, that with an unspeakably high budget and a few deft stooges, you could probably replicate most of what we’d seen on the road. Yet, without realising it, I’ve found myself agreeing with Rob’s version of events, personally defending the Left/Right Game’s validity against its decriers. I’d set off on this journey much like Bluejay, as a staunch, confident skeptic, but somewhere between the tunnel and this moment, I’d become a believer.

Bluejay notes my lack of protest, and turns back to Rob.

BLUEJAY: I’m flattered you went to all this trouble. I didn’t know my work was so offensive to you.

ROB: I admire your work Denise. Always have. That’s why I brought you along.

BLUEJAY: That is bullshit. Tell your friend Ace he can’t act for shit.

Bluejay pulls a pack of Marlboros out of her coat, lighting up immediately, and goes to sit on the hood of her nearby car. Her demeanour clearly signals that her part in the conversation is over, though her words leave a bitter aftertaste for everyone involved. To sympathise, it must be exhausting, spending two days with people whose opinions are diametrically opposed to your own, having to listen in silence while they corroborate their own seemingly preposterous views. Having said that however, I’m incredibly glad she’s stopped talking. It reminds me of a time when we got on much better.

The next question comes from Eve, her voice quivering.

EVE: Can… can we die here Rob?

The quiet force of her words turn everyone’s heads back towards Rob. It’s clear that others have been thinking the same thing, and they’re looking to Rob for an answer.

ROB: It’s possible. The road ain’t ever killed no one before. Not so long as everyone followed the rules.

LILITH: But you said in your emails it was dangerous.

ROB: That’s right.

LILITH: But you didn’t feel like telling us that we could die out here?

Rob turns to Lilith, clearly offended by her accusation.

ROB: In the 1920’s Jon Ebenrow killed 36 people and violated their bodies. In one of your videos, you guys went to his home in Virginia looking for the man’s ghost. Bonnie & Clyde once spent $500 to stay at the Iowa Murder House, a place that’s supposed to possess its victims and force’em to kill each other.

ROB: If you all honestly believed in what you were chasing, you should be accepting death as an outcome every time you step out. We are looking for evidence of another world. What we’re doing here has the scientific significance of the moon landings, the cultural significance of Columbus reaching the Americas and a whole lot of people died doing both. If you accepted the risk chasing down the ghost of a two-bit serial killer, you should be willing to accept the risk for this.

Lilith looks like she’s been scolded by a parent. There’s a fire in her eyes as she observes Rob, meeting his criticism with scorn.

LILITH: Oh so it’s Ace’s fault? He should have “accepted the risk”?

ROB: He did accept the risk. Ace made his decisions. He saw the dangers of the road first hand and he kept on goin'. I told you this place could be dangerous, and maybe you didn’t take that seriously. But you are NOT gonna treat me like I lured any of you here under false pretenses.

We stand for a few moments in the uncomfortable void left by Rob’s words. No one’s quite sure where to look.

APOLLO: Well what do we do now Rob? Do we turn around?

ROB: I ain’t gonna make that decision for you. If you want to split off and head back, I suggest you wait till mornin’ and stagger your leavin’ times by an hour or so. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like what happened back there before, but this is the most people I ever played the game with. Maybe that’s doin’ somethin’.

AS: What do you mean by that?

ROB: Well it’s the only thing that’s changed. Truth is, this ain’t our world, by all rights we shouldn’t be here. Even when it's one car the road always tries to discourage you. Maybe it’s like bacteria in a vein. One or two might slip by unnoticed but once it hits a certain point it’s like a uh…

AS: Like an immune response. You think the road’s pushing back on foreign objects?

ROB: And the bigger the group-

AS: The more violent the response…

It makes sense, until Bluejay laughs once more. Hearing her reaction, I reassess what I'm saying and I can’t help but feel a little foolish at the idea.

ROB: Maybe. It’s just a theory... I don’t know.

Rob collects himself, regaining his composure.

ROB: Either way, you all have the morning to decide if you want to keep on the road. Bristol, if you want to go home, you gotta find someone to take you. I ain’t ready to head back yet.

He turns away from the group and marches to the Wrangler. I don’t see him again for the rest of the evening, and I have no intention of bothering him. Eve and Lilith immediately crowd around me, asking if I’m alright and taking it in turns to disparage Rob’s actions. I can’t bring myself to join in. All I can bring myself to say is…

AS: Can I charge my phone in your car?

The group has very little to say for the rest of the night. A deep solemnity hangs in the air, dampening any semblance of good cheer like wet leaves on a dwindling fire. No one offers any conversation, Apollo’s reservoir of quips has run dry. Everyone’s wondering where they’ll be going from here, pondering the sort of person they are in circumstances such as this. Do they press on towards danger, or back towards safe and familiar ground. It’s a question they’ll have to figure out for themselves, ideally before sunrise.

I already have questions of my own.

About an hour after Rob’s departure, bidding fair well to the rest of the group, I walk over to Lilith and Eve’s car. My bag is resting on the front seat, a black wire leading inside from the charging port. I’ve decided not to tell the pair that I’ve been charging the detonator for a military grade explosive less than ten metres away from them. Perhaps it will come out during broadcast. If you’re listening to this, sorry girls.

I pick up my bag and, checking that no one’s looking, make a beeline for the apple grove. I march through the small wood, the air growing still, the sounds of the convoy quickly fading behind me. In the late evening darkness, with the moon shrouded by legion of crooked trees, I’m puzzled that I’m not more afraid. I’ve seen what happens on this road and, as I pass through the grove and into the neighbouring field, intentionally isolating myself from the rest of the group, I'm quite aware that help won’t be coming for me. Even so, as the corn rises up in every direction around me, I find myself almost incapable of fear. The day's events have drained me of emotion, and I'm now with everything else pulled away, I’m left with only one driving directive; an overpowering urge to figure this road out, regardless of what that entails.

Judging the distance I’ve traveled to be acceptably out of range from the convoy, I take the block of C4 out of my bag and place it on the ground. Gritting my teeth, my body cringing with self-inflicted dread, I press the power button on the Nokia and wait for something to happen. My worries of instant disintegration are allayed slightly as the grainy image of two outstretched hands comes into view, swiftly replaced by a menu screen.

I work fast, the words on the brown paper package constantly reminding me of what I’m putting at risk with every passing second.

Firstly, I type my number own number into the phone, assuming, or at least hoping, that the mechanism isn’t activated by outgoing calls. A few seconds later my cell phone rings, giving me the Nokia’s number. Checking the call logs, I find a second, different number, which seems to have made a call to the phone three times in quick succession. If I were a betting woman, which I sometimes am, I’d suggest that this number belongs to whoever built the bomb, the calls representing an attempt to test the trigger prior to its implementation. If I’m right, then this should be the personal number of whoever was driving that crashed car.

My third discovery, is a little bit more puzzling. No texts have been sent from this phone, however there is one solitary message residing in the phone’s inbox. It’s from a third, separate number, and it reads thus:

“Please don't do this Rob.”

I stare at those four words, the new information grating uncomfortably against my already preconceived theories. If this text is to be believed, and my previous deductions are at all accurate, then that means Rob Guthard was driving the car. That the C4 in the trunk had belonged to him. All this time I thought Rob may have been responsible for something terrible, but what if he was run off the road himself? If that is the case, it leads to an entirely new question… who was responsible for his crash?

As I begin to think it over, the air explodes around me.

I’m jolted out of my examination by a powerful, echoing voice which reverberates the very air. The corn is thrown into a frenzy as the noise echoes from every direction, as if spoken by the air itself.

VOICE: I’ve watched you questioning.

Without a second’s hesitation, I turn off the Nokia and throw the block into my bag. I jump to my feet and scan the cornfield for whoever spoke the words, backing away towards the convoy. Suddenly, realising how far I am from my friends, I break into a run, my boots pounding the dirt as I flee back to the woods.

Less than a minute later I burst out through the trees, my bag swinging with the weight of the block. Everyone’s in their cars, seemingly fast asleep. I’m starting to think they’re onto something. With no one to talk to, and a long day ahead of me, I suppose there’s no further recourse but to catch my breath, write up my immediate thoughts and then, finally, get some much needed rest.

I feel a dull pressure behind my eyes as I step towards the Wrangler. Quietly opening the back door next to my sleeping area, I carefully hide the block under my luggage. Then, silently closing the door again, I wander around to the passenger side, where my notes are waiting to be typed.

I reach out and grab the handle, gripping it tightly. I don’t open the door. In fact, after a moment staring through the glass, I let go.

The pressure behind my eyes gives way, and before I know it I’ve slid down to the damp ground, my back against the cool, hard metal of the door. A whine catches in my throat as ugly tears stream down my cheeks. My breath shudders as I inhale, and my attempt to breathe out plays to the world as a quiet, declining sob. The tears take me by surprise but I don’t wipe them away. In a bittersweet way, they’re welcome, necessary even. They carry with them a familiar sense of heartrending release. By the time they’ve run dry, I feel like I might just be able to move on from the events of the day. The sounds in my head are just a little quieter now I’ve paid them their due.

BONNIE: Are you ok honey?

I’m picking myself up when I see Bonnie walking carefully over to the Wrangler. I brush myself off, a little embarrassed at being caught.

AS: I didn’t know you were awake.

BONNIE: I’m a light sleeper, and Martin… Clyde snores. Do you need someone to talk to?

AS: I think I just need to sleep. Thanks Bonnie.

BONNIE: My name’s Linda, if you’re wondering.

AS: … Alice.

BONNIE: That’s a beautiful name. Well Alice, I know I don’t talk much, but I know how to listen… if you ever want me to.

For the first time since the pine fell, I find myself smiling. It’s a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.

AS: Thank you Linda. I might take you up on that. Have a good night.

BONNIE:** Have a good night.

Bonnie starts to walk back to the car, before pausing and turning round. One last piece of comfort to offer.

BONNIE: And remember, everything will all be alright once we get to Wintery Bay.

I frown a little, unsure what Bonnie means. She smiles back blankly, then resumes the path back to her car. She’s mentioned that place before, upon leaving Jubilation, in what seemed like a moment of idle reminiscence. How she mentioned it just now doesn’t seem like reminiscence at all.

After everything that’s gone on, all the suspicion I’ve been directing at Rob, all my worry for Ace. Is something the matter with Bonnie?

Perhaps I’m misunderstanding, perhaps Bonnie misspoke, but all the same, the brief comfort her words afforded me has already faded away, leaving a familiar feeling of confusion and paranoia in its place.

I let myself into the passenger side, type up a few pressing notes and then climb through onto the air mattress. Sleep doesn’t come easily. I close my eyes and try to convince myself that tomorrow will be better than this harrowing day. Yet every time I make that particular argument, a voice in my head responds:

“That may depend on which way you turn.”

[batsaboutbats]

2021 Reading

I used the Calendar spread for this reading. While it’s not exactly how you’re supposed to use it, I make each card a corresponding month to predict the year and the events of each month. You start from left, and go around in counterclock wise direction. The center card predicts general influences on the inquirer. So let’s get started to see what a shitshow 2021 is going to be.

Card 1/January: ACE OF SWORDS reversed (could also be personality of the inquirer in traditional reading.)

FORCE, is the nature of this card. And not in a good way. Injustice, wanton abuse of power, misunderstandings, and malice abound. Mental stress and anxiety are going to be the name of the game in January for me. This tracks, especially considering the pandemic, the piece of trash littering the oval office, and our senate doing it’s best to murder and subjugate us. Fuck them, I’m too spiteful to die.

Card 2/ February: PAGE OF CUPS (money, possessions, material concerns)

Pale, fair haired with blue eyes, the Page of Cups is a gentle young person with kind heart and mind, both loving and artistic. They are also insightful. If female, somewhat tomboyish. They can be emotionally vulnerable and need affection to thrive. I’d suppose that it’s referring to myself as the physical description fits, and it means to be more concerned about emotional wealth rather than the kind valued by coin. God knows in this current climate that kindness is sorely in shortage. I’ll try to be understanding of others and not let my anger rule me.

Card 3/March: JUDGEMENT reversed (short journeys, siblings, learning.)

Opportunities will be ignored, and I might fall victim to stubbornness-- such as refusing to move on from a position. Fear of death, illness, and refusal to change when it is vital to do so. This card can delay outcomes.

Hm. I’m gonna hedge a bet that it means covid-19 might explode beyond imaginable grief in this month, due to the fact that it’s around this time that regular people should be getting access to the first round of the vaccines. I have little faith in people’s patience right now, so I have a feeling they’ll think one shot is enough and try to go back to life as before the virus hit. 9_9 Guess I need to be diligent and stay on my toes. Be flexible and roll with the punches!

Card 4/April: THE TOWER reversed (home life, childhood?)

False accusations, imprisonment, or oppression.

Definitely a volatile month full of trying challenges. I’ll most likely initiate a change of attitude that may shock or dismay those around me. Basically, I’ll become a rebel. Deal with it, I guess. Since this is focused on home life, I’m guessing that my family and I are going to be butting heads, a lot.

This is most likely the month I may have to finally have a showdown with my father-- who has shown himself to be brain damaged. Yes, really. He had a stroke a few years ago, and I don’t care that he’s still able to walk and talk just fine, he *changed* after it. His personality became a complete stranger to me and I don’t even recognize him anymore. The vile shit he says casually makes my skin crawl and I really worry about my safety sometimes.

April may be the month I have to decide what to do about my dad. Be it taking Power of Attorney, or placing him into a retirement/nursing home... It really is up in the air. I just know it’s going to be a bad month.

Card 5/May: THE WORLD reversed (Romance, leisure, fun, and children.)

Success has yet to be won in this month. Insecurity might be the thing standing in my way, while I’m lacking vision. I’m probably going to be too focused on what is, and not what could be.

Maybe my battle with my family will spill into this month, and my gentleness is going to fuck me over. I need to harden myself and do what is necessary even if people don’t like it. There’s no time for leisure of fun in this month it seems.

Card 6/June: KING OF SWORDS reversed (work, habits, health matters.)

The King is a distrustful, suspicious man. He plays mind games, and double deals to spite those around him. Sounds like it’s talking about my dad, here to ruin my birthday. Jesus fucking Christ.

Seems like his health and needs are going to take up most of my attention, while I’m in the middle of balancing work and trying to keep my sanity balanced. I will have to be careful of my own health and not allow him to drag me down into depression. This is going to be a rough month.

Card 7/July: 4 OF CUPS (partnerships, business or personal.)

BOREDOM is what this card means.

Stability will be achieved in this month. What more can be achieved anyway? Familiarity breeds contempt during this month. Which is to say, my Dad is still going to be his terrible self and there’s nothing I can do to change him. Most likely I’m going to accept that the father I thought I had doesn’t exist anymore...just take my fate for what it is.

To heal myself I’m going to need a new start-- either with a new activity or a few new friends. Maybe both.

Card 8/ August: 5 OF SWORDS reversed (sexuality, shared resources, inheritance, investments.)

DEFEAT is what the card means. Stubborn pride, and refusal to give in when all is lost. Most worrying is that this card more often than not signifies a funeral. Is this the month my father leaves the mortal coil? Possibly. I’m going to be careful of being too bullheaded, and learn to cut my losses.

I may need to keep an eye on my retirement funds this month.

Card 9/ September: 7 OF CUPS (Distant travels, religion, philosophy)

CHOICES is the meaning of this card. Important decisions will have to be made, with numerable options to choose from. I’ll have to be careful and pick the right one though. Doorways will open for me, but I must walk through the correct door. I’ll need to be extremely intuitive here. I’m guessing that I might inherit something after all, and will have to decide what to do with it wisely.

Card 10/October: THE SUN (career, status, direction)

SUCCESS is the meaning of this card. Oh thank fuck. Finally, some good fucking content. While glory is overrated imo, I’ll take happiness and achievement. It seems I really did pick the right choice in September afterall. Good news will come this month, and a possible birth of a child may come to my family. My sister? Might be the one it’s hinting at here, but as far as I know, the good news is probably financial related. Hot sunny places might be in my future. Is this the month I begin to prepare to head to Australia? Either for a visit or a new life? Not sure.

Card 11/ November: 6 OF SWORDS (friends, social life, hope for future)

TRAVEL is what this card denotes... Movement away from danger, discretion is the better part of valor here. I should move in company of others in similar circumstances, and luckily my immediate problems will be solved in this month, whatever those may be. There is only one direction to go in, and it’s thankfully positive! Hm. Maybe this is going to be the start of something more permanent.

Card 12/ December: THE FOOL (secrets, hidden enemies, where you may be your own worst enemy.)

NEW BEGINNINGS is what this card holds for me. Nothing can harm me anymore, no matter what I do. I can take a risk and start a new chapter of my life without fear. I should take the unexpected as it comes with open arms and embrace change. Unconventional people could enter my life and be what I need to finally be happy. I no longer have to look over my shoulder in fear that the other shoe is going to fall. The worst is over. Perhaps Covid-19 is finally tamed and the world is settling down again.

This is a good sign, and tracks so far with the others. I like seeing gradually progression in readings because it gives me confidence that it’s going to be a slow ease into change and I can roll with it all better. 

Center Card/General influences on me, the inquirer: 9 OF SWORDS

Cruelty is what this card means. Refusal to accept help or feel that improvements cannot be made. However their is light at the end of the tunnel, I just have to learn to adapt and rely on others sometimes. Not everything is horrible and there is good in the world. I just have to look for it a little harder is all.

2020 has left deep scars on me. I just have to remember that the future will be ok as long as I’m positive and believe in myself.

[yourhardloverbouquet]

Top 10 FE OTPs? :3c

Oh man this is gonna be kinda tough lol

10. Boey/Mae. I just love the back and forth that goes on between them in Echoes, and I love that despite the back and forth, it’s clear that they still really care for each other.9. Kaze/Corrin While I do have more than one Corrin ship (I’ve read some pretty good fics involving her and Jakob and I just adore Silas) this is probably the one that’s grown on me the most. Kaze is so unaware that he’s a total catch and he’s so devoted to her and gah. I thought about including a small moment between them in that dragon gauntlet fic I wrote, but I wasn’t sure how he would get to Askr since he has yet to be summonable 😭8. Ryoma/Lucina One of the more random ships for me lol. I got a +atk Ryoma out of nowhere on a free summon a while back, and once he started facing level 35+ enemies, I thought about giving him an ally support, but I wasn’t sure who I wanted to support him with. I randomly picked my Brave Lucina, and haven’t looked back since. I definitely think they could bond over how deeply they cherish their families, and Ryoma would probably be super patient with Lucina’s lack of fashion sense lol7. Sharena/Anna If Alfonse doesn’t want his sister getting too attached to any summoned heroes why not let her get attached to their commander? She’s from Askr, so she can’t bail on her. Anna would be so quick to fall for Sharena’s cheerful disposition and Sharena would never have to worry about getting hurt in battle because Anna would stop at nothing to protect her6. Henry/Lissa I had both of them just lurking as 3 and 4 stars in my Heroes army and once I read their Awakening supports, I started using them more often because I wanted them to reach S rank in Heroes because THEIR SUPPORTS ARE THE FUCKING CUTEST THING. She confides in him about missing Emmeryn and how she doesn’t like seeing people die in general, and when she starts having trouble sleeping because of it, he’s so willing to do what he can to help and turns out, all he needed to do was let her rest her head in his shoulder5. Boyd/Mist Kinda like with Boey and Mae, they get on each other’s nerves a lot but they also care a lot about each other and I am living for that. HEY INTSYS PUT BOYD IN HEROES ALREADY HE’S WAY COOLER THAN OSCAR4. Chrom/Robin Robin can be male or female and I will still ship it pretty damn hard. Whether they get hitched or not in Awakening, the strength of their bond and their devotion to each other is so blatant that it’s hard for me not to3. Hector/Lyn Yep, another “they butt heads but still care” ship. Sparring together helps them learn what they need to work on in battle, and even then, Hector commends her on being stronger than he anticipated. When his brother dies and he doesn’t grieve, she does, even though she’s never met the guy, and that to me shows how much they’ve grown to care for one another throughout FE72. Alfonse/Summoner aka Kiran HA YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE NUMBER ONE DIDN’T YA. “Don’t get attached.” Alfonse says, as he proceeds to get attached to the very person he gives this advice to. Even if the player were to bench him (but after refusing to do so, and even with how many great sword units there are in the game, I can safely say those people are truly missing out on a damn good unit), it’s so so SO obvious that he cares about them so much. If the player does put the time and effort into him, he rewards them with one of, if not the best level 40 quote in the whole game. It means even more to me because I maxed him out about two or three weeks before chapter 10 was released, and HOO BOY did that fuel the Kiralfonse fire for me. Alfonse seems so eager to learn about the modern world and even visit it himself with Kiran, and in turn, he could teach them about the traditions of Askr and offer them comfort when they start getting homesick. They have some clear differences in the way they live, but that’s what makes them mesh together so well for me1. Roy/Lilina When I started learning more about Fire Emblem outside of “those two guys in Melee” way back when, Roy and Lilina were the first ship I had, and it’s stuck with me ever since. Their dads were BFFs, so in turn, they end up being BFFs, and they just click instantly at the end of FE7 even with Lilina initially being kinda shy. When war strikes Elibe again in FE6, even long before you can recruit Lilina, she just wants to do whatever she can to help Roy. When Hector is killed, she tries to be strong, but he sees right through that, and does not hesitate to give her a shoulder to cry on and support her as she grieves. Granted, that grief only really shows up at the end of the chapter where you recruit her, but it’s still a really sweet moment between them. And if they end up supporting together, that makes for even more sweet moments between them (which if I remember correctly includes an extra scene at the end of FE6 if they hit A support during the game?). I’d say they’re perfect for each other, but for me, their relationship goes beyond perfection

(Couple of honorable mentions: Eliwood/Ninian, Stahl/Cordelia, Niles/Leon, Clive/Mathilda)

[rosalietodd013]

Forever (Part 10): Good Enough

Summary: The reader gets help getting back to the person she once was and there is a family renunion on the horizon.

Warnings: Depression, Fear, not much else

Words: 3,992

Catch Up on the rest of the story: Part 1 HERE, Part 2 HERE, Part 3 HERE, Part 4 HERE, Part 5 HERE, Part 6 HERE, Part 7 HERE, Part 8 HERE, Part 9 HERE

A/N: So I think a week went by before I noticed that in the previous chapter I didn’t put up a deadline for the poll. I think my original thought process was a month to make sure everyone got their votes and opinions and questions in, but because I didn’t clarify and because I need some to get my head together with the next couple of chapters, I’m gonna say August 31 will be the final day to put in votes. I know that’s a long time to wait, especially without an update in so long, but I need to make sure everything is in order and that I meet my requirements for the rest of the story. As always, if you have comments, questions, concerns, or anything else, just let me know. Enjoy…

Song title: This chapter is based off the song Good Enough by Evanescence for reasons that are explained in the first chunk of this chapter and have been explained in some detail in previous chapters. You’ll understand when you start reading.

“How did you find me?” I ask though I knew he had been here for a while, and it’s kinda hard to believe that he is here.

He doesn’t do what I expected him to do. I expected him to start yelling at me about how stupid and dangerous what I did was. For him to scold me on how there were hunts that could have been solved and people who could have been saved with all the time it took him to look for me. Maybe throw something with the famous Winchester temper. But he doesn’t do any of that. What he does actually surprises the hell out of me.hunts that could have been solved and people who could have been saved with all the time it took him to look for me. Maybe throw something with the famous Winchester temper. But he doesn’t do any of that. What he does actually surprises the hell out of me.

“I missed you baby girl.” He says, pulling me into this bone crushing hug that feels so warm and emits more love than I have ever known him to show. It makes me realize just how much I’d missed him too.

“I missed you too Daddy,” I say with tears streaming steadily down my face.

Dad acts entirely out of character but at the same time just like himself the first little while that he’s here. He avidly checks to make sure I’m ok when he pulls away from our hug, patting me down and running a few subtle tests to make sure I’m not hurt or some monster. Classic Dad. He also does a minor sweep of the cabin to make sure the place I’ve been living in for the past nine months is safe.

I roll my eyes at that. Like I would have actually stayed here all this time if I knew it wasn’t safe. He taught me better than that. But he doesn’t act like it.

“Where’s Dean?” I move over to the couch as he glances at the sigils all over the kitchen and living room. “And you still haven’t told me how you found me.”

“When your brother and I realized you were gone, we thought that monster had taken you, so we finally tracked down the bastard and killed him. When we realized that he hadn’t taken you, we tried to track your phone, which the GPS was conveniently off for.” He shoots me a look that makes me avoid eye contact. “We got it turned back on though and found it two miles from Bobby’s place. He told us he’d only seen you for a second, weeks after you’d disappeared and had stolen one of his cars. After that, Dean and I split up so we could cover more ground. We knew there weren’t many people you trusted, so I called them all.”

By this time, Dad had come to sit on the loveseat across from me. Apparently satisfied with what he’d made of the sigils, he had grabbed a beer for him and a water for me from the fridge, taking a sip before continuing.

“I ran through the names relatively fast, none of them having heard of you, so I figured you wouldn’t have gone to anyone because you knew they’d tell me where you were. I was stumped for about a week, Dean not having heard from you either. Then it dawned on me. You just needed a stable place, not with people necessarily. So I checked my list of safe houses as far away from California as possible because you would want us to take a while checking the other states looking for you.Three of them were on the East Coast. One in Lincolnton, North Carolina, one in Dahlonega, Georgia, and this one. Didn’t think I knew about this place huh?”

I must have a shocked or confused look on my face due to his question. Yeah, I stole this address off his list to make sure he wouldn’t find me. So how did he?

“I remembered all the states and addresses Angelina gave me (Y/N), and I called her to confirm that this one existed. What you did was smart, but not clever enough. I’ll always find you (Y/N), you and your brothers. It’s my job to protect you all and keep you safe and together as a family. Even if you don’t want me to.”

The isolation I have had from most people, especially my father, must not have been the best for me because I can feel myself getting angrier and angrier at his words. Usually, I can handle most of the things my dad says because I am with him and hear it regularly, but not now. I’ve spent too much time away from him, and now it doesn’t take much to set me off.

What the hell was he even talking about?

“You wanna keep us safe and together? How well is that going for you right now Dad? Because in my opinion, you suck at it. When Sam left, Dean and I went to go make sure he was ok. You ran away to do God knows what God knows where for a whole night. And after that, for months you and Dean got your asses handed to you by literally every monster you faced and were too fucked up in the head with grief to realize that you hadn’t even finished entire hunts. You say you wanna keep us safe and together yet you denied me the chance at training, so I had to do it with Bobby, and you never went to try and remedy things with Sam. How does that keep us safe and together Dad?”

I’m standing over him, yelling because I haven't been this emotional in a while and need to vent.

“I made mistakes in the past (Y/N). Regretable ones. Letting your brother walk away was one and keeping you from the field was another. The time you, Dean, and I spent hunting as a family was a time I spent realizing just how much you needed this to heal and how great you were for the job, with or without the training from Bobby.” He says earnestly, not making a move to stand, knowing how on edge I am at this moment. Winchester temper, remember? Not always just a boy thing. “But I also realized just how lost you were getting in what we were doing and how much of yourself you were losing because of what happened. I started treating you like this was what you needed when it was really what I needed. But I wanna help you now–”

“Help me? How are you gonna help me? How Dad? Because you have no idea what I’m going through or how I feel right now. I keep beating myself up because I know I’m not him. I’m not strong enough or smart enough b-because I’m n-no-ot him.”

By this point, I’ve fallen to my knees in front of my father, bawling my eyes out at the admission and the fact that I’m tired of being angry and too ashamed to do anything about it.

“I’m sorry I’m not strong enough Daddy. I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I just w-wanted to be good enough. For you and Dean and I just–”

“You are (Y/N). You are not a disappointment, and neither of us is Sam or Dean. I can’t be disappointed in you if you managed to save mine and Dean’s asses time and time again or managed to lose me for nine months or stand up for your brother when I was being too much of a coward to tell him that I was proud of him.”

At this, my head shoots up from its place on his knee to stare at him shockingly through puffy red eyes.

“When I finally got over everything, I started driving by Stanford periodically to check up on him. I wanted to know that he was alright, but also to see him have the life that I always wanted for him. For all of you. I wish I could go back in time and take back what I said, but I don’t know if he would have changed his mind anyway. He was strong in his own way, and so are you. I’m not gonna leave you baby girl. I’m gonna help you get back on your feet like I should have back then.”

“But how?”

He smiles down at me and kisses my forehead.

“One step at a time.”

And he was right. It took me a while to get back to being a fraction of the girl I once was, with his help of course.

At first it was a real struggle to leave my room for breakfast because I was so mentally and emotionally drained.

“(Y/N), you have to eat something. You’ve lost too much weight as it is.” We’re sitting at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. Well I’m sitting. Dad is standing on the other side of the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of him, same in front of me.

I have to have lost thirty pounds in these past few months up here by myself. I rarely found the urge to eat or drink anything; I didn’t have anyone to force me to until now.

“You don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want to. At least eat the toast and drink the orange juice.” He tells me almost pleadingly, and this is a side of my dad that no one has ever seen. Well I have on occasion, but my father has never been the type to beg for anything from anyone, so I feel a little worse for putting him in this position.

I take small bites of my toast until it’s gone and eat half a piece of bacon with even fewer eggs before picking up my glass of orange juice and heading to my room.

“(Y/N) ple–”

“I just want to get back in bed.” I say without turning around. The little bit that I ate will likely do me good later on, but at the moment my stomach is churning in the worst way.

Dad doesn’t try to stop me as I go, but I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, sadness and grief likely shining in his green eyes. This fact causes tears to well up in my eyes as I close my door, the sound echoing throughout the silent cabin.

Exercise helps, I know. It’s the getting out of bed to do anything that is the problem.

Dad is entirely understanding about this and doesn’t push me to do more than I can at the moment, which is still interesting to me. When I was younger, I used to watch him push Dean past his limits constantly and eventually Sam as well. It’s really weird to have him baby me when he hasn’t shown that he is capable of such a thing in the past.

If only he had been this understanding with Dean, always forcing him out of the motel room at the ass crack of dawn without so much as a cup of coffee to start his day. I know that he was training him to be able to protect not only Sam and I, but also himself, but he was a real hard-ass most of the time. Those that know him might have a hard time believing that John Winchester would coddle any of his children because they’re having a slight separation that kept them in bed for weeks at a time.

And they would be right not to believe it because he isn't doing that exactly. Coddling might be too strong a word. Aiding and comforting might work better. At least out loud. He’s encouraging me closer and closer to the door and the outside world, till eventually, I get there.

And I can say that being outside again feels amazing.

For the first few days, we just sit on the porch and listen to nature. The wind blows steadily most of the time, causing my greasy (H/C) hair to blow all over the place. Dad does his best to keep it down but doesn’t succeed, which causes me to laugh.

He laughs too and tells me how happy he is that I’m opening back up, and that makes me smile up at the sky because that makes me happy too.

Over the next few weeks, I attempt to get back in the swing of things. The two of us go running every morning and talk about anything and everything. Dad calls Dean periodically to let him know that I’m ok and to give him his own hunts.

At first, I know that Dean should be aware of where I am and what I’ve been doing because he probably wants to see me for himself, but then I realize that I’m not ready to face him yet and Dad sees this. So he just gives his eldest son periodic updates on my progress and assigns him his own hunts.

One day just after Dad hangs up with Dean, I ask him a question that has been plaguing me for a while.

“So how did you manage to part ways with your beloved Impala?”

He laughs at my question. “ I was wondering how long it would take you to ask.” He looks at his truck out the wall of windows just beyond the kitchen and living room. “Like I said before, Dean and I parted ways to cover more ground in order to find you. He wasn’t taking the bus, and I needed to know he had a reliable ride, so I gave him the Impala and bought myself the truck. I was planning on giving her to him for his twenty-fifth anyway. He just has to take care of her.”

“You know he will. His ‘Baby’ means too much to him. You know he’s been lusting after her since he was like nine. Even I could see that, and I was a three year old. You and Bobby drilled the love of cars into him early. What’d you expect?”

“If only that could’ve worked with you and Sammy–”

I see that he realized his mistake when my brother’s name passes his lips. He learned pretty early on not to mention Sam while we were here –the first time I said his name for Dad to hear since he left was the day he got here, and that was an accident –even before I left. He knows what happened isn’t something I’m just gonna let go anytime soon. The only way that’s gonna happen is if I confront him, and we both know that’s not gonna happen. Ever.

“It’s fine Dad. I know.” I try to ease his worry as he gazes at me apologetically. I just want to move on now. “So you said you found a hunt before Dean called? What’s that about?”

Dad stays with me until I’m able to work and function well enough by his standards on my own – not exactly where I was before but damn near it. We train, go over lore, he took me on a few hunts in the state, and sometimes we just talk. He arrived on a hot and sweaty summer day in July, and he leaves on a cold, frigid day in October, and I really don’t want him to go.

“Do you have to go? Why can’t I come?” I ask as he loads his bags into his truck and turns to face me.

“Because there is a hunt in Texas that Caleb has called me to help him on.”

“Well, I can go with you. Help ou–”

“No,” He says sharply in that ‘not up for discussion’ tone of voice that causes me to shut my mouth instantly. “I need for you to meet up with Dean in a few weeks and who knows how long this hunt is gonna take.”

At the mention of Dean’s name, I look at my father pleadingly, not ready to face my brother yet, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“It’s not up for discussion (Y/N). You still need someone with you, not that I don’t think you can handle yourself, but you and your brother should be together. And besides, he needs help.” He places a hand on my shoulder when my facial expression doesn’t change. “Look, you two have to make amends and work together which is why I’m giving you a few weeks to get yourself together and prepare yourself.”

He pulls me into a hug, and I crush him to myself, desperately not wanting him to go.

“Please don’t leave me,” I say into his chest, my voice wavering slightly.

He kisses my forehead and pulls me back far enough for me to look into his eyes.

“You’ll see me again soon. Talk to your brother (Y/N), it’ll be good for you both. He hasn’t been doing very well in your absence, so he needs this. You don’t have to do it for yourself. Do it for him, and maybe sometime along the way you will find closure too.”

Dad’s right. I need to talk to Dean, but I also need to figure out what I’m gonna say. I ask Dad, but he just kissed my forehead once more and got into his truck with a smile, calling, “You’ll figure it out baby girl.”

So helpful Dad.

That was two weeks ago. I haven’t heard from him since then except for a letter that tells me to head to some town in California. Jeranimo? Jericho? Something like that, but I still don’t move to leave.

I know that Dean will likely be there – Dad said that I would have to meet up with him in the coming weeks, but I didn’t think it would be so soon – and I don’t know what I’m gonna say to him. I should apologize for everything I said the last time I saw him on top of leaving without a trace, but I want him to also. Knowing Dean, he’ll be too proud to do that though. Both of us were in the wrong, and we need to move on, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to.

I love my brother to death and would do anything for him, same vice versa, but I don’t know how this is going to affect our relationship on top of me leaving. Dad was cool with everything that happened between us, but I feel like he’s obligated to forgive me for that because I’m his daughter. Dean, on the other hand, doesn’t have that same obligation.

All these thoughts are running through my mind as I drive the two days to Jericho in the newer version of the Jeep Cherokee that I borrowed from the garage. The whole ride, the butterflies in my stomach, get more and more agitated as I dread the thought that my eldest brother might hate me.

When I arrive in town, I soon come to realize that the case has already been solved. I ask around about strange occurrences and new comers, and I overhear a couple cops talking about how a pair of brothers who had escaped police custody, and me being the nosy Winchester that I am, listen a little closer. Discreetly.

Apparently, two men went missing from town not too long ago who had been arrested for impersonating federal agents and harassing one of the locals. At first, I want to believe that it’s a coincidence, but then one of the officers mentions the name ‘Winchester.'

Well shit.

Wait, does this mean that Dean went to get Sam from Stanford since Dad and I were MIA? I mean it could be Dad and Dean working together, but they don’t look that similar in age. Not at all actually. Plus Dad would have told me in the letter if he would have been in Jericho when I got here, and I haven't seen any signs of him at all since I’ve been here.

Does that mean that Sam’s hunting again? How long have they been doing that together? Why would Dean do that to him? Why the hell would he even agree?

There are so many thoughts and questions running through my head at the moment that it’s making me dizzy. I rest my head against the steering wheel of the Jeep and trying to catch my breath from the sudden dizzy spell.

“Breathe (Y/N),” I tell myself. “Dean wouldn’t do that to him and he sure as hell wouldn’t agree.” Would he?

Dad said that Dean’s been different since I left. What if he was so lonely and scared that he got Sam from school after Dad left too. But what I can’t seem to wrap my head around is why Sam would leave his perfect life with his perfect girl for this? One stupid hunt or God knows how many more. It just doesn’t make sense.

I need to know what’s going on and why even if that means that I have to do something I never imagined myself doing.

So I’m back on the road two hours later to a place I hoped to never see again.

Stanford University. If it really was a one-time thing, then that’s where they’re headed.

I’m immediately drawn to the building that’s surrounded by fire trucks and police cars when I arrive. Apparently, there was a fire in one of the buildings recently. Like the firehoses are still getting the last of it put out recent.

I roll my window down and ask one of the bystanders what happened.

“One of the student’s apartments caught fire, but the police don’t know how. She apparently didn’t make it out.” The girl seems genuinely distraught by the news. “She was so nice.”

“You know who it was?” I ask, perking up a bit more at the hint of new information.

“Yeah she was in my Lit 104 class. Her poor boyfriend came home after being out on some trip all weekend with his brother I think he said, and arrived just when the fire started. Police ruled him out as a suspect because some of the neighbors saw them leave and go back in right as the fire started. His girlfriend’s name was Jessica Moore, by the way.”

As she speaks, the information sounds too familiar, and when she says Jessica’s name, an intense feeling of grief washes over me. After that, I pretty much zone the girl out.

Jessica was dead? And Sam found her just before their apartment caught fire. That sounds eerily familiar.

At that moment, I see the Impala drive by, Dean in the driver’s seat and Sam likely the dark silhouette next to him in the passenger’s seat with grief just as likely etched onto his face in the shadow of night.

I don’t hesitate as I follow the boys down the road.

They stop at a motel that looks eerily like the one Dean, Dad, and I stayed in the last time I was here. They get out of the car and go into one of the rooms, but I sit there for a while. I’m thinking about everything that could happen if I go up and knock on that door. All of the thoughts end in me either kicked out or someone bleeding badly. Eventually, I clear my mind of those pessimistic thoughts, or at least push them as far back in my mind as they will go which isn’t far but is out of the forefront of my mind, and muster up the courage to get out of the Jeep and walk up to the door I saw them go into not ten minutes ago, knocking on the door firmly.

Not fifteen seconds later, the door swings open revealing my eldest brother with a gun pointed in my face, but I don’t flinch.

“Hi, Dean.”

Part 11

Tags: @sharethelovebeauty , @pretty-fortune

If you want to be tagged in this story or any of the others in my masterlist, just let me know. I also do forever (not the story this time) tags.

[gaykamukura]

2-10, 15-20, 26-29, 31-33, 37, 45-48, 51, 52, 59, 60, 63, 67-73, 81, 97, 99, 100

puttin under a read more cause it got long snksnksnskn

2. Favourite protagonist?

i’m gunna be real, i like playing as hajime a lot plus theres some moments where he’s being ridiculous and you’re powerless to stop it so you’re just there, face in your hands, losing your shit snickering.

3. Favourite antagonistic character?

points at my url gently...i know i’m an izuru kinnie but i think he has a lot of nuance espec cause he can fit an antagonist role while still being generally neutral on the havoc he wreaks

4. Favourite character?

i’m very bad at choosing but taka was my first fave and the first character i ever grew attached to that was ripped from me so i’m gonna say taka

5. Best girl?

hina, sakura, ibuki, peko, miu!!! i think my “type” is the girls who are either super stoic or super energetic pffft

6. Best boy?

i already talked abt taka earlier so kazuichi and leon are my beloved weenies

7. Favourite class trial from all the games?

the last class trial in the first game where you as makoto get to earn the title ultimate hope and the mastermind is finally revealed after the 20+ hours of grief and struggle you’ve just been put through and you get that satisfying ending of the mastermind paying for their crimes and everyone getting to go free is just...so good and so climactic i adore it

8. Least favourite character?

if i was in a room and my choices were to delete hifumi yamada from existence and die or survive while having hifumi yamada remain in this world i would choose to sacrifice myself

9. Least favourite class trial?

probably the second one in the first game, because it had all the things i was upset with. the way the genocide jack/jill and toko situation was handled was awful even with it taken in consideration that the game usually uses very trope-y characters, and the whooole thing with chihiro is uncomfortable for the entire trial, and then it all ends with an execution where if you think about it too much it makes your stomach whirl

10. What would be your Ultimate Title?

hmmm something like ultimate tarot card reader or ultimate divination/psychic maybe!!!

15. Your absolute OTP?

oh god i ship everything...i like komahina a lot though even tho i have another handful of ships for hajime

16. Your absolute BROTP?

fuyuhiko and nagito obviously

17. Do you have an OT3? Which one?

none that i can think of rn even tho i’m definitely open to a lot of them...i support gundham dating both sonia and kazuichi while sonia and kazuichi are best friends tho

18. Favourite rare ship?

i’m rly fond of fuyuhiko/nekomaru [hikomaru???] and kamuegi

19. Who do you think is an underrated character?

i feel like toko doesn’t get nearly enough love oh my gosh...i see her dismissed as an accessory to byakuya or “the girl w the serial killer” so often and it makes me so upset...also mukuro generally gets outright ignored even though there’s a lot to her

20.  Who do you think is an overrated character?

i feel like i see a lot of stuff for mikan everywhere??? but i...don’t like her that much. her personality kinda feels like the same thing all the time, under the despair disease she feels like junko 2 electric boogaloo or tsumugi the squeakquel, and her execution was underwhelming. and she also killed ibuki, the best gal :(

26. Favourite execution?

oh god definitely leon’s. the first execution of the first game and it goes hard as hell. it’s one of the few if only times you see red blood in the game, he goes out kicking and screaming in a way that you have to feel sorry for him. it’s an unbelievable way to start off the game and really encapsulates all of the wild ride danganronpa is gonna put you in for.

27. Least favourite execution?

as i said before, mikan’s was...underwhelming. as the ultimate nurse who spent her life being a doormat only to kill out of love, there’s an amazing amount of executions and ideas that would have been full of nuance and really interesting but instead she just gets blasted into fucking orbit

28. Favourite unused execution?

oh god i love byakuya’s unused execution because it’s one of those executions that focuses less on the character’s talent and more on the character’s fear. when you realize what byakuya’s future could have been, pretty much complete estrangement from the family and having to build up everything on his own with the fear of poverty constantly looming.

plus the fact that he fights because he could have condemned his half-siblings to that fate only for he, himself, to lose in a killing game and die thinking he was a disgrace is so painful. not to mention the execution itself is a slow and painful death.

it’s so brutal, so focused on breaking every fear and effort of the character, that i think it’s one of those executions that would come to mind whenever you wanted a picture definition for “despair”.

29. Which character should survived in your opinion?

leon kuwata should have lived...he was talented but he was still a normal-ish boy who couldve kept everyone at their wits in the killing game by reminding them what was waiting for them out there. lots of others but i’ve been thinking of baseball husband lately

31. Is there a character you think who shouldn’t have survived but did?

i love yasuhiro that weed smoking boy but he was too dumb to live

32. Least favourite protagonist?

uhhh hmmm i like all of them but kaede had the least screentime so she’s a protagonist where her personality isn’t 100% crystal-clear so. i GUESS

33. Character with the best clothing?

i want chiaki’s hoodie and backpack and LOOK more than i want to breathe oxygen. junko also has a fucking aesthetic

37. Favourite minor character? 

taichi fujisaki i guess??? programmer dad

45. Unpopular opinion?

i dunno what other people think of this because i haven’t heard anything about it, but the closing argument minigame was better in sdr1

46. Unpopular headcanon?

i think genocide jack/jill is nonbinary but i’ve never seen anybody else who has the same headcanon

47. A headcanon you have about a character?

one of my long-time headcanons is that makoto is trans...yeet

48. Favourite OST?

danganronpa 2 has bop after bop. miss monomi’s practice lesson? bop. all the execution themes? bops. ikoroshia and ekoroshia? bops. i am constantly jamming the fuck out in this game

51. Character you thought you were gonna dislike but loved in the end?

i thought i was always gonna hate hiyoko and yeah she does have flaws but i actually like her a lot more than i used to

52. Character you thought you would like but disliked in the end?

thought korekiyo was gonna be a cool dude who was a lil weird and emo but still fun. boy was i wrong. im stealing him from spiky chunky until they learn to stop it

59. Favourite moment?

again, the final trial in the first game is fucking amazing, but also the final trial in the second game with hajime and chiaki plus all the izuru stuff and all the messages there r just. good as hell aaah

60. Saddest moment?

all of chapter 2 in sdr2 was painful. mahiru, who was a force of good, dies, the trial is difficult, the twilight syndrome murder case is terrifying, hiyoko is mourning and you have to spit it right back in her face for awhile that she’s the prime suspect...

and then the only reward you get for finding the real killer is feeling guilty as the tears run and then your final reward is getting to watch as one of your friends dies while the other gets mortally injured and barely survives and then only a bit of gametime later attempts suicide in front of you. it is blow after blow w/o breaks

63. Describe Kyoko Kirigiri in 3 words! 

lovely detective lady

67. Which character would you never want to meet in real life?

hifumi because i would be wearing an anime tshirt cause im a fucking weeb and then he’d be an incel while i suffered just trying to buy a lifetime supply of panda candy from hot topic

68. Which character would you like to meet in real life?

kazuichi cause he seems p chill and like the type of person you could just hang out with or have a chat with casually and not have to worry about first impressions and stuff like that

69. Choose one character which you would take with you on a trip.

70. Character you would have a sleepover with?

chiaki because we’re both super sleepy but we could also play a bunch of games together and then pass out together with a bunch of snacks

71. Character you can relate to?

sorry to be kinnie on main but izuru, i relate to that feeling of always excelling at everything you do and as a result being constantly bored, so whether what happens is good or bad doesn’t matter so long as it’s interesting

72. Character you can relate to but you dislike them?

kokichi, again being kinnie on main but while i relate i dislike it because it’s a reminder of my tendency to lie to others and to myself for any number of purposes

73. Character who deserved better?

[sniffles softly] taka. also keebo. toko too tbh

81. Could you be the Ultimate Lucky Student? 

probably??? my luck varies from being unbelievably good and unbelievably bad so hey

97. Overrated ship which is your NOTP? 

toko/byakuya for sure. i don’t like the it(tm)

99. Your absolute NOTP?

junko being shipped with anyone but especially with the sdr2 cast because it is gross. let the sdr2 cast do the right thing and get to pull a knife on junko instead

100. Opinion on all the Protagonists!

makoto: a boy who has a mouth and must scream. he’s not having a good time but hes trying his best

hajime: a good, refined boy. he knows how to say and spell big words like antidisestablishmentarianism, or however that goddamn word is spelled. the most paranoid boy

komaru: a good gal, a lil anxious but very strong and ready to kick ass. a funky little lesbian

toko: a blessed gal who needs more appreciation. her time as a protagonist is extremely gay, meaning she is also a funky little lesbian.

kaede: she doesn’t have much screen time but i appreciate her. she’s nice to people and confident whereas everyone else in this series is nervous

shuichi: nervous and emo, shuichi truly represents teenage america in the years 2007-2012, possibly 2013. i adore him