#also this is one where i do believe fearless should sweep

[smollandtoll]

HC: Scripted Documentary

STOP! CHECK OUT THESE GIFS FIRST 

These gifs give us all the feels, all the super soft Geno is the new guy at the government office job feels. It’s in the way the camera moves in that first gif, very parks & rec or the office, very scripted docuseries.

So here we are imagining some governmental office show shenanigans with Sid and Tanger and Flower and Duper trying to get a suburb approved, or a school or something, LET’S GET REAL probably an ice rink and and Geno is the wildlife and ecological impact consultant brought in to assist the project.

It’s usually just tons of boring paperwork and random occasionally dramatic or frivolous projects and petty office drama and occasional panicky dealing with the public. It’s boring work usually, but Sid is a committed and devoted leader and believes in the system of bureaucracy even when he’s thwarted by various nemesi.

Anyway, Geno shows up on the first day of this new contract looking like that and all the french canadians in their ties and dress shirts immediately turn to watch Sid blush. It is so apparent that he is Sid’s Type™ like...Sid might have based the type ON this guy he is hitting the nail so hard on the head.

“Am in right place?” He’d ask earnestly, eyes sliding over each of them questioningly, voice deep and accented. Duper and Tanger probably take point, ushering him in and ousting Flower from his seat immediately to set G down right next to Sid.

So with their fearless leader somewhat distracted by Geno's arms in that sweater, their round table discussion goes off track like immediately.

Geno is just giving so much side-eye at their weird and borderline intrusive questions. He expected a bit of inquiry as to his credentials, and maybe interests but:

"Why you need know I'm want kids?"

Sid abruptly realizing what's happened to their round table while he was spacing out - imagining peeling Geno out of various thermal fleeces and underarmour layers like a present just for him -  and being SO COMPLETELY MORTIFIED. His friends couldn’t be professional if it came up and french kissed them.

"So sorry Mr. Malkin my colleagues have never been outside." He’d recover the meeting and get it back on track, luckily Geno isn’t too irreparably weirded out...maybe.

And he isn’t, he eventually just like settles into the staff and continues to be tall and beautiful and wear very clingy soft sweaters that make Sid walk into door frames.

(They all razz Sid that he definitely heard like music playing in his head and everything went slomo when Geno walked in the first time and Sid DENYING IT SO HARD JUST BEING SO FED UP WITH THEM. //JUMP CUT BACK TO SID'S TALKING HEAD: ....it was Taylor Swift)

But they discover he also has kind of a hilarious mean streak and he’s an absolute card shark at thursday lunch poker. He’s got a giant soft spot for puppies and kittens and baby animals of all shapes and sizes - they discovered this one bleak and stressful week a blustery February where the higher ups thought it would be a good initiative to give them some office stress relief puppies.

Anyway, there’s definitely a few seasons of Sid pining, Geno and him becoming good friends only to find out Geno is dating someone that he brings to the office christmas party or something. And she’s probably super nice and reasonable and beautiful and funny.

Sid is like KIND OF GUTTED ABOUT IT, and doesn’t fess up to getting Geno this insanely wicked secret santa gift - like a pen’s massage chair that blew the office secret santa budget out of the water or something.

So anyway, probably Sid works really hard on getting over Geno, and even starts dating like a wonderful dude who’s idk a high school football coach or something, very boy next door, very sweet and handsome and thinks Sid is just ADORABLE.

And there’s probably a lot of Geno talking heads about how much he hates that guy.

And a lot of Flower and Duper and Tanger talking heads where they just sit there and silently stare at the camera like ...what the fuck did we find ourselves in the middle of. The UST is STIFLING.

Then there’s probably the episode where like they have a business trip to go on and present their findings and Sid and Geno end up in a layover in the middle of the night in like denver or some shit, throwing popcorn at each others mouths from across the isles and Sid is like:

“You know what’s funny?”

“Hm?”

“I used to have the biggest crush on you.”

“Sid?”

“Yeah it was really embarrassing, I’d walk into doors and stuff when you wore tight sweaters.”

“Very clumsy when first meet. Thought you just get better.”

“Nah, just got used to you I think.”

“Not crush any more?”

“Nah, I mean, I had to get over it, we work together, and no way in a million years would someone like you want to date someone like me.”  but before Geno can question him what that means there’s probably an announcement that distracts them and then Sid goes to the washroom and Geno gets an annoying text from Ovechkin and it’s forgotten until much later when they’re tiding up after a town hall one night and it’s clear that it’s just STRUCK Geno how beautiful and funny and amazing Sid is.

And then he’s being picked up by his boyfriend and Geno is GUTTED.

Geno is not good at being subtle, he pines as well, but on a level that CONCERNS the French Canadians who take him out and get him drunk and get the whole story about how he’s just realizing now that Sid is perfect and wants kids and would run with their dog.

Sid and the boyfriend meanwhile amicably break up because he’s been asked to coach at a higher level than high school, college I guess which is a big deal, and he needs to move, but it’s an important move for his job. He asks Sid to come with him and Sid seriously considers it for a little while, but he knows his job and his family through the job is too important to him, so they amicably break up, and because Sid isn’t very heart broken about it he doesn’t really act any different or see reason to mention it really.

Cue a lot of flirty shit happening between them that neither of them chalks up to meaning anything because Sid is “in a relationship” and Geno is “very uninterested” and the FCs LOSING THEIR MINDS OVER. At this point they are really rooting for them and don’t want to meddle - which goes against Flower’s very nature however so he definitely locks them into a utility closet together for a whole episode.

They get hangry, tempers flare, Geno kicks the door, Sid spills an entire bottle of lysol cleaner on his pants, they sit shoulder to shoulder and talk it all out and right as they’re about to kiss probably Phil opens the door looking for some toner.

Sid likely ducks out to immediately pee and like try to wash the cleaner out of his now RUINED pants and like mutter to himself in the mirror about what the fuck are you doing Crosby. He’s your best friend.

But Geno is probably definitely watching him from the door and just says “That’s best reason we should.” and then sweeps Sid into the kiss they should have had right from the beginning. And it’s all sparkles and fireworks and it’s in a grody men’s bathroom.

fin.

[stilemawillow]

His Eyes and Her Mind [Levi | Reader | High school AU!]

You're slowly browsing through your old Psychology notebook before you pinpoint a sentence that draws your attention. Your reaction is immediate - your lips curl into a condescending smile as you stare at it, highly amused.

'Eyes are a door to one's soul.'

Yeah, as if. You cackle and your boyfriend throws you a strange look from his seat across the table outside the café you're currently at. Honestly, you've never believed this eye to soul connection and there is very little that can change your opinion on the matter.

1. Normal look     Indifference

You walked down the hallway with your best friend Hanji when you saw him. Hanji flipped her brown hair over her shoulder, talking about your Biology lesson, but you could no longer hear her as distinctly. He was walking towards you with his small group of friends - Isabel and Farlan, the girl and boy on both his sides discussing something heatedly as he watched the debate silently.

You were approximately five feet away when he also looked up and saw you. You felt something turn inside you, but it was a daily occurrence around him so you ignored the sign as always and stared into his gunmetal orbs. Your face stayed impassive and so did his as your small groups passed each other down the hallway, but you had to admit you liked the attention he had been giving you recently.

Sure, you'd never really talked, but you'd exchanged plain courtesy and greetings at times when it was inevitably going to happen anyway. You never thought much of it - he was attractive and he was staring at you more than you'd ever seen him stare at anybody, but that was it. It didn't make your heart flutter, your knees wobble or your head spin. It shouldn't have as well.

You just couldn't get his dumb eyes out of your head.

2. Intense stare     Frustration

What's his problem?! You were fucking sure if he kept staring at you like that you were going to get up and slap him at one point. Second term turned out to be your "lucky" one since you now shared three out of seven classes with Levi Ackerman, the one that had been paying you attention since the beginning of the junior school year.

Your brows momentarily furrowed.

Of course, since you'd had only two short-term boyfriends in your life so far and they'd never really paid much attention to you you enjoyed it more than you should've. It still didn't make your knees wobble or your mind fogged up with daydreams of the boy sweeping you off your feet, but you still hadn't even led a proper conversation.

You nervously licked your dry lips.

You were forced to officially meet last month during a project you had to do with three other people, but other than that stiff interaction you'd never even said anything to him and he seemed fine with that. Only recently, however, his attention seemed to have gone to the next level. For a week straight he'd been staring you down like he wanted to come up to you and ask you to willingly give him all your valuable personal belongings.

You got a hand through your hair in frustration.

Today was especially intense for some unknown to you reason, but it was pissing you off since you could feel it and it made you uncomfortable. Did he have some kind of problem with you - your attire, attitude, appearance as a whole? Maybe you pissed him off? Maybe you'd said something wrong? Maybe he was in a bad mood and decided to get it out on you?

A sigh left your lips.

You doubted the last one since Levi always seemed like he was in a bad mood, but you'd never seen him stare at somebody like this just because of that. You didn't know what his stare meant and that pissed you off more than the distracting persistence of his gunmetal hues. You were frustrated up to the point of blowing up any second now - his stare had made you avoid him as a whole less than ten minutes ago.

Your finger started tapping on your notebook impatiently.

The teacher at the front was talking about something you couldn't even pay attention to, Levi's tense orbs were digging holes into your face and the feeling of it was unsettling. So Hanji had been right when she said people could actually feel when they were being watched. You looked up, anything but interested in your work and stared right back into the gunmetal hues of the male across your desk, sharing his best friend's coursebook which had forced him to turn his back to the teacher and his face to you.

You saw his own eyebrow twitch momentarily but his gaze never left yours. You glared hard into his eyes, trying to provoke him, but it was in vain - he didn't react in any way. You tried to read what in the fucking hell had made him this annoyed with you in the first place - could there be any specific reason for his staring?

Your stomach turned again when you saw him get a hand through his silky locks as his eyes left yours. Great, now you were the one staring. Your eyes narrowed and you kept observing him, but he made no effort whatsoever to regain the lost eye contact, which just made you angrier.

Was he trying to make you look like a creep by staring at him? Well, you weren't going to have it.

With a huff, your attention went back to your own coursebook. You could feel his intense stare on your face less than a second after that. To say that you almost broke your pen in half wasn't an understatement.

3. Bashful avoidance     Confusion

He just had to be like that, didn't he? Levi Ackerman, the all mighty, fearless sorta bad boy, sorta nerd. He just had to keep looking at you, giving your desperate being some kind of false hope and a shit ton of mixed signals. And what was worse - he didn't seem to regret it one bit. The worst however was yet to come and it was the unknown. Sometimes it scared you more than your biggest fears.

Fear of heights? Well, this building's last floor may be the fifth or fifty-fifth, wouldn't know with that fog.

Fear of the dark? That room might be lit up by the sun itself, but it could also be pitch black. Wouldn't want to understand which.

Fear of not knowing something? Levi Ackerman might as well tell you he loved or loathed you - you couldn't care less, but the tension of not knowing which of the two it was would break you before his words came out of his mouth.

Of course, the above was just a simple example of the situation at hand, which, in your personal opinion, was way worse. He was staring at you - fine. He made this strange thing happen to your internal organs with his presence - fine. He was charming, strangely kind, attractive, funny, intelligent and somehow generous, and he was paying attention to you of all people - fine. He confused you with his behaviour - not fine.

It had taken him two more days to calm down his intense stare, but he gradually did so and soon enough it was back to how it had always been - exchange of glances along the length of the hallway or up and down the stairs, sometimes even outside during lunch break. You rarely saw him out of school even though he lived in the same neighbourhood as you (which you knew since you regularly took the bus together) which was a relief of kinds. However, his recent behaviour seemed to confuse you more than anything.

First, he paid attention to you. Then, he tried to dig a hole into your face using only his eyes. Next, he stopped staring altogether and instead seemed like he was flirting with some other girl. Sure, she flirted first, but that wasn't much of an excuse. And all of a sudden, he was super friendly with the girl while eyeing you up constantly whenever you saw each other. It confused the fuck out of your mind and you hated not understanding certain things.

Not that you were the best when it came to emotions, socialising and such, but Levi had been remotely easy to read. Well, not now.

He walked into the school building with Farlan, sitting on the bench inside and facing your way (because you and Ymir were sitting on the bench across the room). You had a clear view of his eyes and how they trailed over your face, gently trying to push you to make eye contact with him. You didn't. Not yet anyway. It took you five seconds of a pointless exchange of stupid trivial phrases with Ymir to finally meet his gaze. You'd washed your hair earlier the same morning and combed it as much as you could before going out, so it was not a surprise that Levi noticed that - he always saw the little things.

Under normal circumstances, you'd lock gazes for the overall of ten seconds before either of your friends tore you away from the craved eye contact. This time it was different. Why? Because he looked away in less than a second.

Your brows raised in surprise and you listened to Ymir's story of her and Krista's date with half an ear, nodding occasionally when she would pause. The male's gesture confused you immensely - why did he look away? Was there something wrong with you? Did you not look as good? Of course, the mere fact that the action of his eyes averting from yours made you doubt yourself and grow self-conscious was stupid, but you couldn't help it - he never acted like that and you wanted to know why he did now.

This was where irritation came in. He confused you and you hated being confused, but it was inevitable - his further behaviour only made the issue deepen. The action repeated exactly four times before he and Farlan decided enough was enough and went up the stairs. He would look at you, hold your gaze for less than two seconds and look away as indifferently as possible. There were no changes in his facial expression and you could read nothing in his eyes. You were baffled at that - you were usually the one to look away.

You noticed the nervous tapping of his finger on his knee and the slight twitch of his thin eyebrow, but it wasn't something you considered significant at the time. You should have. Because it was.

4. Piercing glare     Anger

"I told you for the last time - I'm not going out with you, Mark."

Everything was pissing you off - today had started badly and was currently holding a steady pace. You had a pop quiz on your most hated subject so you barely got any sleep. Your mother had broken the coffee machine and your father had refused to fix it so no caffeine for you. And now due to yesterday’s downpoar your muddy shoes made you slip every few seconds.

Also, the constant annoyance bugging at your mind because of Levi's closeness with Petra was wow, what a surprise - annoying. It was troubling you on an emotional level, which was bad because if it was a trivial problem having to do with anything else you'd be in perfect condition to ignore it. Finally, this guy - Mark, who had been hitting on you for the past month suddenly decided to make an appearance during lunch break, block your way to your precious caffeine and ask you out on a date after you'd already refused him approximately five times.

Not to mention, he wasn't from the innocent annoying type - he was from the persistent scary type, where shit could get serious if you got too aggressive yourself. And right now, all you wanted was to get some fucking coffee and go back to class.

"Why, (Y/N)? You don't have a boyfriend." Mark put his hand on the tree which you'd found solace next to up until this moment, turning it into a trap that had just clicked instead. You found his smug strangely irritating today, to the point you could punch him if he tried anything funny.

"I just don't see you in that way, I don't want to waste my time." You retorted, teeth gritting in annoyance before the male decided to stop playing around. There weren't many people around you since the only coffee machine in a mile's radius was pretty far away and most students preferred to spend their time in the little shops around the school building and the cafeteria instead.

"So you're saying I'm a waste of time?" Mark leaned closer to you and his eyebrows furrowed, his pretty face finally showing its true colours. He had dirty blond curly hair and plain brown eyes, he was rather muscular and tall - all things he felt immensely proud of. Despite his face and body, however, he wasn't overly popular - he played sports and loved to hook up with every girl a bit above average, which really brought him down into the eyes of the female population in your school, resulting in some major disapproval coming from the student body.

"I'm saying it will waste our time as a whole, it's useless." You said, trying to ignore the way you wanted to punch him straight in the jaw. Maybe it wouldn't even work, but trying would surely satisfy your inner aggressive side - you just had to imagine you were hitting that stupid girl that was flirting with Levi.

"Not if I say it's not." Mark argued, making you turn your face to the side because of how close he was getting to you.

"Are you threatening me?" You inquired slowly with narrowed eyes. He just laughed at you before smirking down at your face.

"Do you want me to threaten you or will you agree to go out with me willingly?"

"Does that mean if I don't say 'yes' you'll force me?"

"Yes." He looked like the Big Bad Wolf about to have breakfast when he put his other hand on the tree behind you, pinning you between his arms. "When I want something I get it." His expression may have been seductive, but to you it was disgusting - how could such a male survive so long in society when he was this stupid and forceful?

"Didn't know you were a rapist besides being a womanizer." You pointed out, only to have the daylights slapped out of you a second later.

"Shut up!" He should have been thankful there weren't people around, otherwise, somebody would have come and stopped him by now. You guessed you wouldn't be able to have your coffee soon. The slap made your cheek sting and your eyes narrowed in fury. Sure, you couldn't do anything to fight him off except kick him in the nuts, which wouldn't do as much as you'd want it to, but you could sure as hell glare at him all you wanted.

"You're pathetic, you can't even take a rejection." You faced Mark, angry yet scared of what he might do to you now. You weren't going to let him have his way just because he was stronger, though. His face twisted in fury and he grasped your wrist, bruising the skin with his calloused fingers. He was about to hit you again with his other hand before it happened.

"Let go." Another male growled behind Mark's back. "Right. Now."

"Since when are you interested in protecting people? Or is it just this bitch?" Mark snarled at the other male, which you soon came to understand was actually Levi. Your eyes were wide as you stared at his frown. You doubted you'd ever seen him that angry.

"Are you sure you can question me right now?" The raven-haired boy asked with furrowed brows and a glare so hard you thought it would burn you if he directed it towards your eyes. Mark flinched and you felt his grip on your wrist loosen up a bit.

"What do you think you can do to me, Ackerman?" The blond asked cockily even though you could see his jaw clench in helplessness. You realised who would win if they got in a fight and honestly - if somebody asked you to name one thing that would probably make you piss yourself from fear it was going to be Levi's glare in the current moment. It burned with the intensity of a raging fire for unknown to you reasons - it couldn't be because of you, right? He was probably here to get himself coffee and decided to play 'save the damsel in distress' on the way to the machine.

"Do you wanna see?" Levi closed in on you and Mark and you felt your wrist fall from his hold as he stepped back. Levi cracked his knuckles and the blond gulped. You didn't really think Levi's words were what scared him off.

"I'm just tired because I had a match during PE. Next time this won't happen." He ran faster than anything you'd seen after that, leaving you and Levi all alone.

"Because there won't be a next time." The raven mumbled to himself dangerously low. His glare moved from the ground to you and you felt your blood boil. You glared back at him and pushed yourself off the tree with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl.

"What a fucking dumbass! I could handle him, you know, I didn't need your help!" You exclaimed in the raven's face. Surprisingly that was probably the first proper conversation you were having with him after your stiff official meeting.

"Do you really think so? Because I think you would've been raped in less than ten minutes." He pointed out in the most indifferent voice ever, making you try to dig a hole into his skull with your eyes. His glare was making you angrier yourself. When he stepped closer to you and gently wrapped his fingers around your bruised wrist your expression twisted in disgust and you yanked your hand away from his hold, ignoring how his glare had actually scared you moments ago.

You stepped away from him and went away, but not before snarling: "Don't fucking touch me."

5. Shocked gleam     Fright

"Hanji, stop talking about this, it's stupid." You were walking down the stairs with your brown-haired friend once again - a week or so had passed after the whole 'Mark incident' and surprisingly enough he never even approached you after that, it was like he was afraid to. You didn't pay much attention to it, going back to your routine of stealing glances at Levi Ackerman from time to time when he wasn't looking and hoping his gaze was tracing your face just as much as yours did his.

Unfortunately, you kept catching Petra Ral flirting with him and there was nothing you could do about it but blame yourself for not having the self-esteem to talk to him like she did. Right now, the discussed topic was close to your problems.

"I'm just saying if you mustered up some courage and started talking to him regularly his interest would pick up and hers would fade. The boy's basically staring at you every chance he gets, (Y/N)." Hanji argued as you pushed your way down the stairs through the other students going up. You knew Levi and Farlan were somewhere behind you since you had the same class together now, you just hoped neither of them would pick up on your conversation with the brown-haired girl.

"Hanji, I said stop. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Period." You stated harshly, looking at the girl next to you and clutching your backpack tighter. You briefly heard 'look at this' before someone bumped into you from behind and you lost your footing on the steps. Your body, your backpack and your combat boots tumbled down the stairs with nothing to catch on.

For a small second, you managed to use some student's shoulder to try and stabilise yourself, but it didn't work - it just turned your body so that you would fall on your back once the fateful moment came. You had a clear view of Hanji's parted lips and horrified expression. Right next to her, however, you saw something you may have just as well imagined with everything moving so fast.

Levi's hand was pushing through the students to get down faster and his eyes screamed something you couldn't really read. They gleamed in a way you never thought you'd see, like he'd seen his favourite cat get run over by a car on the street. Or something of the sort. You felt something grasp your hand, but had no time to see what exactly. The impact was here.

You didn't have time to analyse his wide eyes because your world went black less than a second after you were exposed to the complex sight.

Two hours later, you woke up in the infirmary with a giant headache and a panicked Hanji coming to visit you once classes were over. During your stay, you asked the nurse what had happened, but the only thing she said confused you even more: "If I understood correctly, the boy's arm almost broke when he used it to soften your fall. Well, you didn't get out completely uninjured since your back is bruised, but maybe you were actually lucky."

The next day Levi didn't come to school.

6. Deep gaze     Care

Calm, (Y/N), keep calm. It's all fine. You repeated over and over again in your head. Not like you had a chance to begin with, it's not a big deal.

Your breaths were coming out ragged and you felt like you weren't trembling because the ground in front of the side entrance of the school building was cold. A month, that was how long Levi had talked to you for. After the incident on the stairs at school and Levi's short absence after that, he started nodding to you when you'd see each other in the halls and you'd throw him a small smile, acknowledging his greeting. That went on for about two weeks before he came to you one day and asked to work with you since Farlan was absent and they always used the same coursebook. You'd said 'yes' without thinking much. Needless to say, you didn't really use the coursebook much that day yourself, you were too busy stealing glances at the male's face from up close and he was too nervous to actually read the exercises you were supposed to be doing.

After that it became a routine for him to approach you at least once a day - he'd give you a plain greeting, ask you about the classes you shared or if you wanted to get coffee together during lunch break (you felt he'd become overprotective after Mark even though there was no reason to be overprotective over you and no danger as a whole). There was always an excuse. Once he even sat next to you on the bus when there were no more free seats. You were happy, your mind was filled with butterflies and your stomach welled up with pleasant thoughts when he was around - or was it supposed to be the other way around?

It didn't matter since for a month you were the happiest girl on Earth.

And then Petra Ral came along. Needless to say, things started becoming shaky and you were drifting away - you didn't want to mess up her flirting with him. He seemed like he didn't notice or he was purely being an asshole and doing it on purpose. Not that it really mattered, you caught them making out less than four hours ago during lunch break. The worst was that he made eye contact right before breaking apart.

Not with her, with you. You would've felt sorry for her because her partner was clearly not paying attention to the activity she was putting so much effort (and tongue) into, but you hated her guts out of pure spite so you couldn't even care about emotions connected to empathy.

It's not his fault, he didn't give me any false hope - I created it myself.

That was your calming chant - he didn't do it just to break your heart, he did it because he wanted to be kind or use your coursebook when Farlan was gone. It wasn't to hurt you intentionally. It sounded stupid now that you thought about it - hoping for anything out of Levi Ackerman. He barely knew you and you barely knew him. Usually, you'd counter yourself with the argument you hadn't even led a proper conversation, but the worst here was that that was invalid now - you'd led many conversations throughout the past month and you'd enjoyed every single one of them no matter how stupid or trivial. For God's sake, you even enjoyed discussing different types of coffee and tea with him.

You weren't crying - you were having something like a minor panic attack, where you just trembled like a leaf and couldn't stop thinking about throwing your useless being in front of some passing bus. Truth be told, you hated these moments - if somebody had seen you during them that was Hanji and Hanji only. You'd never even let your parents understand about it even though the signs must've been there. The twitching, the trembling, the sweating, the ragged breathing. It was there. All of it was out there and if Levi ever saw it he'd truly give up on whatever you had even if it was as insignificant as your existence in the current moment.

You tried to laugh, but it came out messed up - like a person choking. You sat there for five more minutes - in the cold with the wind brushing your hair before you burrowed your face in your knees and closed your eyes. You could feel the tears, but they didn't want to come out. It was useless - crying about a boy that didn't even care about you.

Then somebody gently bumped your leg with their arm. Your head shot up and your hand instinctively reached for the pepper spray in your pocket, the one your father had given you as a Christmas present many months ago. Your eyes widened when you saw who was in front of you.

"Levi," you said, "why are you here?"

His face was expressionless as he gestured towards the cup in his hand. Your eyebrows furrowed and your hand went out of your pocket to grasp the carton cup he was clearly handing you. You smelled the beverage inside, relishing in the pleasant aroma of coffee. It made a smile spring out on your lips. Before you could register what was happening Levi had sat down next to you - closer than a guy with a girlfriend was supposed to sit next to another girl when they were all alone. The action made you flinch, but you didn't move away - it was a rare thing you got to sit this close to him.

You could smell his cologne - it was a fresh, strong smell that made you want to rub your face all over his chest. The male ran a hand through his ebony locks and you marvelled at the sight of his hair's softness. His body was oozing heat, beckoning you to go closer, as close as possible, and lay your head on his chest as his warm arms wrapped around you. You didn't.

"So, about today..." He started, sounding strangely stiff. You sipped from your coffee, warming your cold fingers with the cup and listening. Your stomach took one of those unpleasant turns, but you didn't let it show on your face.

"What exactly about today?"

"I don't even know if I should be discussing this with you, for all I know Farlan's sixth sense may be way too off the shitty map and you don't actually---" His confidence was gone once his panicked gaze met your curious orbs. He seemed confused, disgruntled and so many others. You were perplexed at his behaviour - was he usually this twitchy when it came down to your normal conversations? No, he wasn't, you figured a few seconds later.

"Well," you started after seeing he wouldn't continue, "I don't really know about Farlan's sixth sense, but I---"

"The kiss." He'd cut you off so abruptly you felt like he'd knocked the air out of your lungs with those two short syllables. "The kiss with Petra, it wasn't anything important. It was just a kiss." He continued, getting a hand through his hair again and scratching the back of his undercut with discomfort. "I know we both seem to acknowledge something without me saying it - something about us." You could guess where he was going with that. He meant the constant staring, all the glances and whatnot before you'd started talking. Or at least you thought he meant that. "Petra means nothing, she was just--- she was flirting with me I just didn't stop her because I wasn't sure if you... felt anything."

"... okay."

"Is it?" He asked once his eyes met yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers felt like ice even though they'd warmed up considerably. "Is it okay? Are you?"

"Everything's fine." Your forced smile turned out way more genuine than expected. His gaze was firm and his eyebrows were furrowed - he was trying to detect a lie somewhere along your sentence. He sighed when that didn't happen and for a few seconds, you were both silent. You were trying to process the situation.

Levi. Feelings. She was just flirting. Am I feeling anything?

Your heartbeat was erratic enough to answer in your stead. Then you looked up from the cup in your hands and met his gaze. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing thing you'd seen in your life. His eyes, so grey and so soft, pulled you in, it was like you couldn't look away from them. They were special, he was special and he made you feel special. Why was it that he looked at you with such affection? Were you reciprocating the gaze? You didn't know, but you felt like you could stay like that for hours.

And that was when it happened. Before you even had time to escape his warm hypnotising gaze.

He leaned in and kissed you.

7. Careless eyeroll     Reluctance

"You have to go." Hanji insisted, having already annoyed you as much as possible with her various arguments on the topic of your stubbornness.

"And you have to rethink the rights you have over my actions as a self-conscious human being." You replied boredly before placing a hand in front of your mouth in fake shock. "Oh, that's right - they don't exist in the first place." You gasped fakely, making her roll her eyes at your behaviour - forced nonchalance. She knew you wanted to accept the invitation but were too afraid everything would be ruined before you even had the chance to meet up.

"Would you please stop mocking me with those complex phrases, (Y/N)? You won't die if you go to a movie with him." The brunette insisted once more before you turned the corner and you frowned at her.

"Sure, not physically, but I'll be dying the whole time mentally - of embarrassment." You sassed, making the brown-haired girl huff in determination as she walked you to your next class. Your schedules differed the second term, so you could only see her during breaks and inbetween other classes. Right now you seriously didn't want to see her, though. She'd been pestering you about Levi's invitation for the past week.

"So it's decided, you will go." She stated, making you gape at her as you both stopped in front of the door for your next class.

"I never sa---"

"The tense, (Y/N), the tense is the key." Hanji cut you off with a cocky smirk and a mischievous gleam in her brown hues. Of course, she'd just forced you to accept. You had no choice - you knew the raven would probably remind you of it as well and you'd have to finally give him a proper answer.

"Shut up, Hanji." You glared at your best friend before she pushed you into the room.

"Now go." She ushered from the doorway while pointing in Levi's direction and you threw her a dirty look before stomping away. Less than three steps later he turned around and looked into your eyes, making you almost trip over your own feet.

"Hi." You greeted awkwardly as the male took out his notebook and eyed you up from head to toe. His gaze made you nervous and your knees were about to start wobbling when he spoke up.

"So about my earlier request, which you've been avoiding to answer for about a week?" Levi pushed gently although in a you-don't-have-a-choice-but-to-answer way, making you avert your eyes to the other side of the room in hopes of seeming calmer than you were. You knew it wouldn't work that well, but you hoped to have at least looked nonchalant.

"... I accept." Was your brief answer as your eyes glanced at Levi's visage secretly and directed themselves to the floor right after.

"I guess I should be grateful?" He rolled his eyes at you, reluctance dripping from the sentence. You knew his face would be a bit softer even though you weren't looking at it. You were good at guessing by his voice (not that it always worked), so right now you acknowledged he was just trying to tease you.

"If I don't see Petra Ral giving you a blowjob afterwards it's going to be fine." You said mockingly with narrowed eyes, which just called for some fake concern on his side. Of course, he and Petra had not become official, but anything was possible. You held resentment for that girl more than you did for yourself - that was something deserving of a medal.

"That was uncalled for." Levi tried to protect her boredly as your eyes finally met his.

"Yes, you're right, but that does not change my mind on the matter." Your tone was firm as you walked towards your own desk, close enough to his so you could connect them and look at the same coursebook. He followed behind silently.

"Fine." He mumbled while watching you put your backpack on the desk. You started digging through the numerous notebooks and course books for the ones you needed currently, which probably reminded him of your little tradition to share a coursebook. "The coursebook?" He inquired, asking if you've brought it which was stupid because you'd never forget it (no matter if you were going to admit it or not, you'd always put it first in your backpack because it gave you a reason to be close to him).

"It's here." You announced once having laid it down on the desk next to your notebook and he got to work with pushing your desks closer.

"Thank you by the way." He mumbled once class had started and your teacher had entered the room. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked into his bright grey eyes.

"What for?" You asked quietly as he eyed up the exercise your teacher had just written on the board. He didn't look up again for the next three seconds. All you were given after that was a brief glance filled with something you couldn't understand before Levi's eyes were pinned back to the coursebook.

"... maybe I should leave you to figure it out yourself."

8. Grinning glimmer     Happiness

The weather was calm, it was around noon and strong wind had been making the trees' branches bend mere minutes ago. Snow covered the ground all around, there had been a storm during the night and judging by the white inches stacked on top of the ground it hadn't been all that light. Now the sun was shining in the blue sky deprived of clouds and the air was cold and so still you could bet time itself wouldn't move until some wind blew by.

You fidgeted uncomfortably and stood in front of the wooden door of the small single-storey house, contemplating whether you should knock or run away now that you still had time to do it. Fate didn't really leave you a choice since just as you were about to turn round the door opened and made your eyes widen in alarm. You looked up and faced the person who had opened it with an insecure expression.

"... hey." You greeted after a small pause while Levi still processed your presence at his doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" His eyebrows furrowed and you drew your hands from behind your back, handing him the little box you were holding. The chilly air made your face go red anyway, so you hoped he wouldn't notice the change in its colour due to other causes as you talked.

"I was passing close by and I thought I could come and say 'hi'. So, hi, I guess." You smiled awkwardly, making him raise a thin eyebrow as he took the grey box from your hands. "And I bought this for you, but since we're in the middle of winter break I didn't really have a pretext to see you, so I might've created it... or something." You switched your weight between your left and right foot during your explanation while Levi stared at you wondrously.

"... for Christmas?" He questioned after a slight pause and you noticed he might've been cold judging by the way he only had on a plain pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"No, it's for your birthday. Happy birthday by the way." You smiled a bit, eyeing him up from head to toe again and starting to regret having come at all. You guessed it would've been better if you'd waited until the end of winter break to give it to him. "Um, I guess I have to go." You stepped backwards before he smirked slightly and a mischievous gleam shone in his eyes.

"And insult the tradition?" He inquired slyly as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion.

"What tradition?" You witnessed the flicker of his eyes to the doorframe above your heads and what you saw there made your breath hitch, something the raven was able to pinpoint quickly due to the chilly weather making every breath you took exit in the form of a white puff of smoke. Your eyes were still pinned to the object at the top of the doorframe. A mistletoe. "... oh. I'm not really sur---"

Before you had time to finish refusing the very generous yet embarrassing offer, Levi had stepped closer and cupped your cheek with his warm hand. His lips pressed to yours in a rather long, tender kiss and you felt yourself basically melting outside his doorstep. It was as if sparks flew about in your mind - just like the first time he'd kissed you. When his lips parted from yours and you opened your eyes, you saw his orbs glimmering so brightly it was as if he'd grinned your way.

"Thank you for the present, (Y/N)." He whispered, hot breath hitting your lips, and when he stepped back again you could swear he was mentally laughing at your frozen stance. You almost stumbled on your way away from the door.

"S-See you at school!" You waved, turning around and basically running away as fast as possible from the embarrassment, your boots crushing the soft snow under them down the path to your own home. You were a coward, but a happy feeling was bubbling in your chest, and God, for that look in his eyes you'd bear a lot more humiliation and possible snowstorms.

9. Foggy narrowness     Arousal

Indecent. That was what you were being right now.

"You shouldn't have gotten detention because of me." Levi scoffed, grey orbs eyeing the empty room you were currently in after today's accident during lunch break when he'd gone to fetch coffee for both of you and you'd waited for him by the entrance even after most students had gone back inside the building because of the bad weather.

"And you shouldn't have been an asshole to a teacher to begin with." You scolded him back, your eyes, in turn, being pinned to his face and the desperate way he was holding himself back from looking at you as well because he was supposedly mad. You were leaning on the desk he'd seated himself at, seeing as the teacher in charge of detention was still nowhere to be seen.

"He was feeling you up." Levi said as if it would justify the whole situation and indeed, it did. You didn't know what you two were - certainly not an official couple anyway, but you were closer than before and now offered each other physical affection more often without as much embarrassment being present (although it still happened when you were all alone).

Your face went cold and that was exactly when he decided to direct his gaze your way - it was cold and sharp and you knew he'd seen right through you, almost immediately so. You'd been scared. Disgusted. Your fingers started fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and you averted your gaze to the floor at your feet.

"... doesn't matter, you almost punched him." You said accusingly and Levi rolled his eyes at your stupid excuse.

"I would've if we'd been outside of school territory." He declared and something in that sentence of somewhat sweet protectiveness (although expressed through aggression) made you extremely uncomfortable. You still hadn't told him anything about your feelings and he about his, you'd only gone out on numerous dates and spent an enormous amount of time looking at each other more openly - you rarely spoke of each other's feelings and you felt discomfort just thinking of the moment that would be needed for you to sustain this thing you had going on. You didn't know if Levi thought the same. You groaned in slight exasperation and turned your head toward the door of the room.

"Ugh. Where's the teacher in charge of detention anyway? We've been here for ten minutes now." You complained, wanting to talk of something else since it was obvious the raven had won this little argument of yours. Levi took the chance to stand up and lean close to you and when you turned back round his eyes were way closer than anticipated.

They pulled you in but weren't as sharp as every other day. When he leaned closer and kissed you, you got a hunch why it was that way. During the kiss, his hand placed itself on your thigh and his whole body hovered over yours like predator hovered over pray prior to the finishing blow.

"... the teacher can come in any second now, Levi." You warned firmly yet in a small voice once the raven had started kissing down your neck. You felt giddy because it was nice and wow - since when was that so pleasant? Your previous boyfriends had also done this, but with Levi, it wasn't quite the same - maybe it was him or maybe it was the circumstances and the chance of you getting caught by a teacher, but you felt extremely good, almost to the point you'd let it go further despite the way you were in a classroom.

"I'm aware." The raven droned from the crook of your neck where he'd been sucking on a second ago and you let out a sharp breath when his hand snuck under your shirt. His head lifted so he could face you again and his eyes were on your lips.

"Then stop." You kept playing the role of common sense even though this situation wasn't entirely all that dangerous. Levi's smoky hues were pinned to your own and you noticed they were more narrow than usual, like he didn't even want to waste energy on keeping them open but he just had to. For a second you thought the whole look on his face was something you didn't come across every day or even when you were alone. When he kissed you again it dawned on you why.

His lips pressed against yours felt soft and pleasant, his breath was made of tea and mint and it turned your mind hazy. You felt like half the blood in your body went to your face when his tongue invaded your mouth and his hands found your breasts over your bra. You felt the softness of his hair but were so out of it you were unable to open your eyes. Or do anything but kiss him. You couldn't recall feeling the same way during your make-out sessions with your previous boyfriends - this was a whole new sensation, a combination of thrill and something that made your face flush as your chest swelled with pleasant warmth.

"They won't do anything to us for this." He declared as if he made the rules and you had to blink a few times to come to your senses - your arms were thrown around his neck, your fingers were in his hair and your legs were wrapped around his waist - how long had this kiss been? He was looking down at you in the sexiest way possible and honestly, how could you possibly refuse that face?

"They can do a lot to us for what's about to follow." You worded warningly, knowing where things would go if you didn't resist even though a small part of you told you he'd never dare do it in school when it would be your first time together. You didn't listen to it, keeping in mind your all-time favourite motto that all men were pigs and they'd take advantage of any and every situation that provided it.

Levi didn't. He kept kissing you, left you breathless, gifted you a few hickeys to go home with and gave you a lot more of that sultry look that almost made your knees give out, but never provided you with legitimate proof of your motto's rightfulness and it was about at that moment when you were walking home afterwards when you realised---

If you hadn't been at school you would've certainly had sex and what was worse - you wouldn't have had anything against it had it been with him.

10. Calculating ice       Thoughtfulness

"I don't approve of this relationship." You heard Levi take a breath from across the form of your father and his crossed arms.

"Dad, Levi isn't---" You tried to argue but were quickly shut up. It was seven in the morning. Thankfully, also a Saturday.

"Oh, he is! He invited you to that party and when you were so wasted you couldn't walk he could only think of how to park you in his bed! The next morning you call us with a hangover and this punk walks you here because apparently you've been together for almost about a year now but he still doesn't know where you live!" You frowned, not possessing enough bravery to speak against your father. Fortunately, you had your mother for that.

"James, calm down." She placed a hand on his shoulder as he grumbled in his armchair. You and Levi were seated on the couch, still in your pyjamas.

"I don't want to, Melissa! I don't like this boy and I don't want him around my daughter!" Even though it was a hiss directed at your mother, all occupants of the room including the aforementioned 'boy' managed to hear it. You looked over at Levi next to you, pondering whether you should grasp his hand or think up an excuse to let him leave before this became a full-on argument.

"Our daughter." Your mother's voice was firm and her eyes didn't dare leave your father's face to console you but you were too indulged in the look on Levi's face to notice it. Or in other words, the lack of a particular look on his face.

"If she's yours as much as she's mine then why aren't you worried about her as well?" Your father argued, making your frown deepen. The raven next to you had his elbows propped on his knees and his eyes staring at the carpet under his feet. His expression was devoid of any emotion - his face was perfectly relaxed with the exception of his furrowed eyebrows. His eyes were filled with thoughts you couldn't decipher, the usual grey now felt like frozen silver.

"I'm sure he means well, if they've been in a relationship for a year and this is the first mistake he's made, he can't possibly be bad influence." Your mother's voice was hushed but you heard it - Levi did, too. You placed a hand over the one he'd put on his knee. You could feel his finger tapping the fabric of his jeans as if he tried to tune everything else out and concentrate - he did that during tests at school.

"... I'm sorry, Levi." You whispered, bringing your face slightly closer to his. He didn't look at you. The ice in his eyes kept still, pinned to the floor. "Don't listen to him, I know just as much as you do we're both at fault." The regret was heard in your voice but the raven decided not to address it. He pursed his lips, then parted them.

"Maybe your father's right." His gaze was still on the floor. Still icy.

"He's not!" You raised your voice, briefly noting how your parents had stopped their own discussion and were now listening to yours. Your fingers slowly retracted from Levi's hand as he looked at you, face not changing in the least. You felt the gelidity in his eyes freeze the blood in your veins.

"Should we end this?" He questioned in a small voice - small but firm. Your reaction was immediate. Your expression hardened and you glared daggers his way, eyebrow twitching. You pursed your lips, forming a proper reply although a very big 'no' would work just as well.

"When it hasn't even started officially? I refuse." You spat, way more coldly than anticipated. Levi's eyes didn't soften, he was still considering this as a possibility. Your parents, however, were shocked. You grasped Levi's hand again, glare softening to a firm gaze instead. You attempted to make him change his mind - ten seconds were needed for you to succeed.

And afterwards, you swore, you didn't want to have to do it again.

11. Bright shine       Love

"Your boyfriend's got quite the style." Hanji showed up during the break, linking her arm with yours and leading you down the hallway to your next class together. You raised an eyebrow at her statement, not so much as the person who was addressed in it - she'd started calling Levi 'your boyfriend' although he still hadn't confirmed your couple status. "Everybody's discussing it. The girls mostly." She whispered devilishly in your ear, smirking rather big.

Your brows knitted together in oblivion as you walked to your next class. It was a class you also had with Levi. You'd see what Hanji had meant in just a minute. Before that, you had to get into the classroom, though, and at the current moment, it proved a near-impossible task with all the girls in front of it.

Some had their arms linked like you and Hanji, others were pretending to walk around, third leaned on the walls and some just didn't put effort into being subtle - they were the ones standing at the very door and looking inside. Your face turned sour like you'd bitten into a lemon and you glanced at Hanji. Was this what she had meant? All the girls were discussing something, giggling inbetween phrases and shooting frantic glances at the door.

"Students coming through, I've a VIP package to deliver to the hot guy inside, you know!" Hanji called out loudly, making you choke on your own spit in embarrassment. Then, as the girls actually let you pass and stared at you in confusion, you made sure to metaphorically stab her with your glare a few times. She only chuckled, and then you were inside the classroom.

Levi was... quick to notice. He popped out amongst the rest inside, not so much because of the fact he looked good but because his no-white clothes policy had obviously taken over him completely as he'd been choosing today's attire this morning. He was wearing a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt, tucked into a pair of impeccably ironed black dress pants. The dress coat and shining shoes were touches that people noticed when looking further into it. And the glare he had on surely prevented most from doing it.

Hanji let go of your arm and pushed you in his direction, he was sitting at his desk, already having adjoined it with yours, and attempting to ignore the people around him. You walked forward, self-conscious because of the all-black dress you were wearing and how it would quickly draw attention. Had it been a coincidence for you to match colours?

"Good morning." You greeted once having taken a seat next to him. "You're the talk of school today as it seems." You tried making your voice nonchalant. The few gazes on your forms, dressed so similarly and sitting next to each other, was plain frustrating.

"And you're my VIP package." Levi stated boredly from the desk next to yours, looking up and into your eyes. He saw them widen as pink tinted your cheeks. You thought he wouldn't have been able to hear. "Hanji tends to be a bit louder than needed." He informed when you dared not address the topic yourself.

"I know. So, what's the occasion for your attire? Are you attempting another gothic phase?" You joked with a small smirk, eyeing his clothes from up close and admiring the way he managed to look good in all black. It made him seem a bit more grown-up, contrasting his porcelain skin yet matching the colour of his ebony locks. His eyes were a nice addition. If you didn't know him, you'd think he was a college graduate, not a senior in high school.

"The funeral's right after classes end right? I thought I'd come since you'll be representing your family all alone. You were telling Hanji on the phone you didn't know anyone there, so now you'll know me." His voice, indifferent yet soft, made your stomach take a warm turn before a giant grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. You covered it with your hand as Levi met your gaze and added: "You'll have to introduce me as your boyfriend, though."

Oh God. This was it. You knew Levi. You knew his expressions and his voice and his eyes. And they told you what you'd been waiting for - a confirmation.

"Sure, it won't be hard." You showed him your grin with a small shrug just as the teacher entered the room, having shooed away all the girls in the hallway. You quickly pulled out your notebook and the coursebook you shared with Levi for the second school year in a row, placing them in the middle of your desk. You opened your notebook and stared at the empty lines with a smile.

Hello, this is my boyfriend, Levi. You giggled as quietly as possible and Levi shot you a questioning look.

"Just practising." His features didn't soften but his eyes shone abnormally in your direction - they were tender and so bright it could've been blinding, but you found it mesmerizing. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt Levi's hand on top of your own. You bit back a smile. It wasn't a success.

God, how I love this boy. The realisation that followed wasn't even something that you minded. It just made you smile harder. Because somewhere along the bored lines and the bright gaze you could see he loved you just as much.

"So, what in the fucking hell are you reading?" Your boyfriend's question brings you back to reality and you blink at him for a few seconds before having collected your thoughts. You look back down at the notebook. The sentence is highlighted in neon yellow and it's giving you a weird feeling.

"Just... Psychology." You answer simply, contemplating the end and the beginning. From indifference to love. From glances to being together. From strangers to lovers. And now...?

"And it's funny because?" He questions and in return you snort condescendingly.

"Well, because it's so stupidly inaccurate tha---" You look up and the word dies at the back of your throat. He's looking at you with confusion, but under that, there's a silver layer of warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. You gulp and laugh in spite of yourself, he raises an eyebrow. "You know what? I don't even know anymore."

"Are you okay?" He gets a hand through his ebony locks and you watch, as always mesmerized by the little gestures he performs.

"Perfectly fine." You give him a small smile as he looks at you expectantly. He knows you want to say something, that something's prodding at your thoughts. Spill the beans, his gaze tells. And you do. "Have I told you I love you?" You blurt out, borderline nervously. You feel weird but it's not because of him, it's because of the realisation that has dawned on you.

"Just yesterday actually." He informs casually and picks up his cup of tea. Only a tea-lover like him drinks it during the summer. Or a psychopath - it is yet to be decided. You eye him for a few seconds but pause right before responding.

"... good." You say with a soft smile. He meets your gaze and he's still clueless but somehow he's seen something that makes him utter a simple 'stupid' under his breath as he rolls his eyes. You say nothing in return to the subtle insult.

"So, are you going to next week's exam or sleeping?"

"The latter sounds tempting." You respond, making him snort.

"Of course it does."

"You?" You question back and his gaze meets yours, you feel the air of superiority around him and already know what he'll say.

"Yeah, and if I pass I have to wait for the winter exams." He explains boredly, twirling your pen in his hold as you close up your old Psychology notebook.

"Cool. I have to take it and two others. Then I can get some rest." You sigh longingly and he glares.

"And work done."

"Oh, don't bring it up." You roll your eyes and your shoulders sag in despair. Your boyfriend is not one to obey orders, he's usually the one to give them. His imperative gaze settles on your pleading one and he opens his mouth.

"You were the one who told me to start working on a fucking book. Better work on your own stupid paintings." He commands, making you groan in exasperation. If it wasn't for you he wouldn't be halfway done with his brick of a suspense novel, but if it wasn't for him you wouldn't be past your first painting. And you wouldn't have found a buyer for it. But now you have to do more paintings and you just can't figure out your muse. You've little to no motivation and the exams are stressing you out while your boyfriend sips on his tea and has the audacity to tell you to get your ass moving.

"Fine." You groan with finality, admitting your loss. "Sometimes I really hate your perfectionist ass, Levi."

"And sometimes I really hate your slothful ass, but opposites attract. That's what Hanji says right?" His grey hues glisten mockingly and you smirk.

"Often when you're mentioned, yes." You confirm, smug look melting into an affectionate expression as Levi grasps your hand and interlocks your fingers. "It's a little hot for that." You inform and when he starts to let go, you grab onto his fingers tightly and smile. "I never said you should let go." The pointed phrase meets only a huff as your boyfriend sips from his tea.

You meet his gaze and try to remember a time when you haven't been mesmerised by his eyes. There isn't such a moment. You become aware of the look he's giving you, your smile grows and your eyes soften. Three years later and he hasn't changed a bit. You catch yourself returning the affectionate gaze as a conclusion settles into your mind.

There is very little that can make you change your opinion on the matter of this stupid eye to soul connection.

Very little but it's there - efficient and determined.

And his name is Levi.

[heliosthegriffin]

Prison changes a man...

Ruby: I can’t believe it, Jaune’s coming back from prison today!

Nora: Yeah! Finally fearless will take his place as team JNPR’s leader.

Temp Leader: Um, actually he was expelled, so the team name is-

Nora puts a finger to the their mouth: Shhhh... You’re not our leader.

The temp leader bows their head in shame.

Weiss: How in my glorious amount of wealth did that dunce get re-accepted back into Beacon! He’s a criminal with a record! I swear the hunters institute standards get’s lower and lower every semester!

Blake, Yang, and Nora all glare at her, while also sweating at the mention of a criminal record.

A strong breeze then comes by and knocks Weiss flat on her back, breaking her aura, her combat heels then break as she gets back up giving her a sprained ankle.

Ren staring off into the distance: It will be nice to have our friend back, right Pyrrha?

Pyrrha smiles slightly: Yes, it will be. Provided their are no more rats in the walls like last time.

Ren smiles thinly: Yes, I’ve made sure to remove any complications.

Pyrrha: I imagine Nora was quite eager to help.

Ren: Heh, only so much. I find it easier at times to work alone, but I’ve learned the benefits of teamwork, one reason I am relieved that Jaune is to be returned to us.

Pyrrha: As it naturally should be. 

Ruby notices Blake's bow twitch.

Blake: Do any of you hear that?

Ruby: Hear what?

Blake’s focuses: It sounds like... music?

Yang: What kind of music?

Blake: Rap?...And pop? Wait, I can’t hear it anymore there’s to much noise.

Everyone then notices the sound in the distance, that of a bullhead cutting through the air.

Ruby is the first to see it as a black speck on the horizon that moves closer and closer. It was a eerie kind of bullhead, painted entirely black and dangling a something beneath it.

The group goes silent as suddenly they can hear something playing in the distance.

-Kn-ck kn- ope-

Blake: There it is again.

-So, c--l, me-

Ruby nods: Yeah, I see what you mean.

Weiss scowls: It sounds so crude.

Nora through up the horns: Fuck you prude!

Weiss gasps and falls over offended, breaking her other combat heel.

Ren shrugs: I could take it or leave it.

-First we gon-....-We gonna roll!-

-Mi-- yo-

The music kept coming in clipped.

-Do-t give -- you’re --- strong.-

-So, ---- -- maybe.-

Finally the Bullhead was flying above them, with the mysterious box hanging beneath it.

Several men in black spec op gear come down on ropes from the Bullhead.

They form a perimeter and search the area, sweeping it for something.

They then give the all clear sign to the bullhead, which slowly lowers the box to the ground.

The heavy metal box hits the ground hard, the earth sinking under it’s weight.

The spec ops: Go go go! Do it quickly!

Several of the Spec ops go up to the box with crow bars and keys, before unlocking the numerous locks and chains around the box, then wedging open the box.

One of them comes up to Pyrrha and Ruby: Are you The leader of Team Ruby and Pyrrha Nikos?

Temp Leader: Wait I feel I should be involved with this.

Ruby: Yes I am.

Pyrrha: May I help you?

Spec Op Guy: Yes, please sign here, yes and thank you. Ok, then. He’s your problem now. If you’ll excuse us. AAHHHAHAHAH!

Then the spec’s off ran off to the Bullhead screaming like little girls, and climbed up the ropes and flew off at mach speed.

Blake: That was unusally.

Yang: Yeah, those guys were a little off.

Ren’s ears twitch: Huh, the music’s stronger now.

-Knock knock, open up the door, it's real-

Though it was still muffled through the metal.

Then the Temp Leader went up to the metal door, putting their hand on the metal door, it was vibrating hard on their hand.

The metal door then was thrown over, knocking the temp leader off the cliffs, and opened to show the inside of the box.

-X gon' give it to ya (what)-

-So call me maybe!-

Nora and Ruby cheered.

Nora: Fearless leader!

Ruby: Other Bestie!

Jaune walks out of the box: Hey guys, what’s up?

Everyone goes silent.

As they all repeated the same phrase in their head. 

Jaune got swole!

As he stood a taller than ever, with ever the tallest of them there, Pyrrha, only coming up to his pecs, while he was now thicker than ever, his arms thicker than Nora’s thighs and his thighs thicker than Yang’s shoulders. All while covered in slabs of dense, angry muscles, and thick nets of pulsating veins and hot blood that moved under his skin.

His Goliath size form moved out of the box, shaking the ground and knocking dust up into the air, only stopping for second as he was caught by several chains attached him to the box, only for him to keep moving tearing apart reinforced steel chains like cobwebs.

The metal piece falling to ground with a series of plinks.

Jaune scratched his head awkwardly: Oh, uh, how’s it been. Oh, right I forgot to turn off the music.

He pulled out his scroll and the music stopped.

Jaune: Sorry, forgot to turn off my work out track.

Yang broke out of her daze first: Yeah, uh, you look like you’ve hitting the gym.

Jaune: Ah, thanks, I wasn’t sure If I’ve made any gains.

Yang went up to him and gave him a friendly tap on the arm: Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about that.

Ruby: What’s that thing on your neck?

Jaune puts his baby arm thick fingers around a metal collar on his neck.

Jaune: This? It’s an aura suppressor.

Blake: You need someone to unlock that, I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.

Jaune: Nah, It’s fine. It broke yesterday, but I got really used to it.

Blake: Whatever makes you happy.

Nora leaps on top of Jaune’s back that would give a gorilla envy: Fearless leader! I have so much news to tell you! Onward to the cafeteria, we’ll discuss it over pancakes.

Jaune: Ay-ay, my Queen.

Then Jaune quaked his way to the cafeteria, with Ren, Pyrrha, and Ruby following closely behind.

Yang and Blake carried Weiss in a stretcher, as she broke her legs when Jaune knocked her off her feet when he started moving.

Weiss moaned in pain: I don’t get it.

Yang: Get what?

Weiss: How he got so ripped in three days!

Blake’s eyes focus in on Jaune’s back, which listed a series of x’d out names where listed: I don’t think that’s only thing you should be focusing on.

[itslifethroughmyeyes]

3 Seeds of Wisdom that changed my life!

I was bullied, mocked, and humiliated both in private and in public by people that I had trusted the most in my life, and I didn’t know how to put an end to the constant torture and torment.

The truth is I was never conditioned to stand up for myself but to always surrender in the name of courtesy; nor did I have any self-awareness about my rights.

But life doesn’t always work that way!

My life took a turn when I was accepted for a full-bright scholarship in a prestigious UK University. Little did I know that my life was about to change forever, for the better…

It was on my third day on campus that I met her. She would turn out to be my Academic Advisor for two years.

She was like Master Oogway to me! Yeah, the one that the plump panda had in the “Kung Fu Panda” movie: so full of sagacity, splattering out wisdom in a cascade; pure, profound, and always composed and calm.

I had an emotional breakdown during our first meeting; sinking in the quicksand of embarrassment, I rushed to apologize to her. To my utter surprise, this is how she responded:

She: “Gul, why are you sorry? For breaking down in front of your academic advisor or for showing the human side of your personality?” I watched her gracefully rising to her feet and grabbing a napkin.

Me: “I didn’t mean to be vulnerable.”

While offering the napkin to me, she continued;

“Our vulnerabilities are what make us human. Never feel sorry for expressing your emotions. It takes a lot of strength to put your emotions out there for people to see. You are rather stronger than others.”

She then picked three sunflower seeds from the intricately ornate Iznik pottery bowl (one she had probably bought from a holiday to Turkey) and placed them on the table between us.

She: “Consider these as seeds of wisdom, plant them down in your mind and soul, feed them with daily practice and commitment, let them grow in your personality.”

I still remember the spell that her undulated voice and unprecedented words cast on me that day.

Her first piece of wisdom was:

Be fierce, focused, and fearless, and let it translates through your work:

Have you ever heard about human kleptoparasites?

There is a village in the Central African Republic where locals steal prey from predators for their own survival. A lion pride is tolerated in the surrounding area because when they hunt the villagers take away the lions’ prey.

For a split second, imagine yourself looting food from a starving lion, even from a tame one. Could you do that? The answer would most probably be ‘No.’

Animals can sense our fear. The moment you get scared the famished lion would pounce on you and knock you down. Then suffocate you to death by clamping his jaws on your throat.

Without sweeping generalizations, I believe humans as social animals are more or less the same as wild lions. We can sense feelings and emotions, fragility and firmness, aversions and inclinations, love and hate!

It takes a lot of courage to be that fearless.

Looking straight into the eyes of adversity: overpower it instead of being overwhelmed; remain focused than become its fugitive; be fierce rather than feeble in your words and actions- that’s how we overcome our demons.

Holding on to the first seed of wisdom, I entered the lecture hall the next day without any sign of trepidation, but rather with a new sense of self-confidence and so aced a presentation I had to give.

2- First thing to do in the morning: decide how you will spend the rest of the day.

While I was in Jordan for my Arabic Language Immersion Program, I got into a scuffle with my roommate and a classmate over a petty issue. Our trivial scuffle turned into a massive brawl that ultimately started taking a toll on my mental and emotional health.

I am sure we all have been in situations where our emotions take control over us, and we lose our cool.

Here I would like to drop the second seed of wisdom that helped me through this difficult time:

“Every morning, the moment you wake up, you have the chance to set the tone for the rest of your day, be it positive or negative, you should be the one deciding it. Don’t let people decide it for you.”

According to scientists, the first 20 minutes of our day holds a decisive role in our success in life as our brains and bodies are in an alpha state.

During alpha state, your subconscious mind is highly active. It is your time for the power play.

Use it wisely!

Always remember what Napoleon Hill-the author of Think and Grow Rich (1937) said:

You are the master of your own destiny!

So, own it! Be the master!

Unconsciously, we often fall prey to the whirlpool of others’ emotional and mental traps that do more harm than any good.

Don’t fall prey to such nonsense. If it’s not your circus, it shouldn’t be your monkey!

Train your subconscious mind to direct your vim and vigour on constructive and productive activities, and you can plan out a prudent to-do-list within the first 20 minutes of your day:

· Try jotting down your short-term goals or make a to-do-list.

· Watching a TED-talk every morning before turning in for work is also highly effective: at least it worked for me!

· Many people start a skill or activity with great enthusiasm, but their zeal soon peters out. Persistence is the key to unlock the door of success and anything that we wish to achieve in life.

3- Make connections: the more diverse, the better!

I lived in a small village in the central part of Pakistan. A place where it seemed everyone knew everything and everyone’s business around them. Denizens were cosily dwelling in their safe bubble that nobody ever tried to look outside the village or even bother to visit the adjacent town.

In the UK, I was exposed to a whole new world of multicultural and multinational identities. I didn’t know what to do or how to respond to it.

I just tried to wind my way through it all without connecting to even a single soul.

But I kept observing, gauging, and analysing people around me.

It made me understand people in a more nuanced way.

The most riveting thing I observed in humans is that we long for similarities, likenesses, and mirror images of our thoughts and identities.

We lean towards national, cultural, ethnic, or even linguistic clusters aligned to our hues of personality. We find serenity and felicity in these cocoons because sameness seems easier to handle.

What we often overlook is the power of diversity and pluralism within society. We can learn more from people who are different from us as they challenge our pre-established notions.

A pluralist, cosmopolitan society is a society which not only accepts difference but actively seeks to understand it and to learn from it. In this perspective, diversity is not a burden to be endured but an opportunity to be welcomed.

(An excerpt from the lecture of Aga Khan at Harvard University Cambridge)

Let’s make the most out of this opportunity.

Fortunately, we live in a very fluid world where globalization and technology have made it easier for humans to connect and create collaborations.

Keeping in view the chaos the global pandemic has brought in the world, sisterhood, brotherhood, partnerships, and associations across borders are needed more now than ever before.

Reach out to people in need!

Be kind, where kindness is needed.

Be forgiving, where forgiveness is needed.

Be a source of hope, where hope is needed.

Make this world a better place for humankind- a world of opportunities and happiness.

That’s what she (my Master Oogway) taught me, and I have internalized for good.

What I shared was the odyssey of just three seeds.

But the story doesn’t end here. Remember, she had an intricately ornate Iznik pottery bowl full of seeds!

[artdaily7]

Another idea about the Theory of Fine Arts: John Ruskin on J.M.W. Turner’s The Slave Ship from Modern Painters, vol. 1

But, I think, the noblest sea that Turner has ever painted, and, if so, the noblest certainly ever painted by man, is that of the Slave Ship, the chief Academy picture of the Exhibition of 1840. It is a sunset on the Atlantic after prolonged storm; but the storm is partially lulled, and the torn and streaming rain-clouds are moving in scarlet lines to lose themselves in the hollow of the night. The whole surface of sea included in the picture is divided into two ridges of enormous swell, not high, nor local, but a low, broad heaving of the whole ocean, like the lifting of its bosom by deep-drawn breath after the torture of the storm. Between these two ridges, the fire of the sunset falls along the trough of the sea, dyeing it with an awful but glorious light, the intense and lurid splendor which burns like gold and bathes like blood. Along this fiery path and valley, the tossing waves by which the swell of the sea is restlessly divided, lift themselves in dark, indefinite, fantastic forms, each casting a faint and ghastly shadow behind it along the illumined foam. They do not rise everywhere, but three or four together in wild groups, fitfully and furiously, as the under strength of the swell compels or permits them; leaving between them treacherous spaces of level and whirling water, now lighted with green and lamp-like fire, now flashing back the gold of the declining sun, now fearfully dyed from above with the indistinguishable images of the burning clouds, which fall upon them in flakes of crimson and scarlet, and give to the reckless waves the added motion of their own fiery flying. Purple and blue, the lurid shadows of the hollow breakers are cast upon the mist of the night, which gathers cold and low, advancing like the shadow of death upon the guilty ship as it labors amidst the lightning of the sea, its thin masts written upon the sky in lines of blood, girded with condemnation in that fearful hue which signs the sky with horror, and mixes its flaming flood with the sunlight,—and cast far along the desolate heave of the sepulchral waves, incarnadines the multitudinous sea. I believe, if I were reduced to rest Turner’s immortality upon any single work, I should choose this. Its daring conception—ideal in the highest sense of the word—is based on the purest truth, and wrought out with the concentrated knowledge of a life; its color is absolutely perfect, not one false or morbid hue in any part or line, and so modulated that every square inch of canvas is a perfect composition; its drawing as accurate as fearless; the ship buoyant, bending, and full of motion; its tones as true as they are wonderful; and the whole picture dedicated to the most sublime of subjects and impressions—(completing thus the perfect system of all truth, which we have shown to be formed by Turner’s works)—the power, majesty, and deathfulness of the open, deep, illimitable Sea. ********************************************** J.M.W. Turner was inspired to paint The Slave Ship in 1840 after reading The History and Abolition of the Slave Trade by Thomas Clarkson. In 1781, the captain of the slave ship Zong had ordered 133 slaves to be thrown overboard so that insurance payments could be collected. This event probably inspired Turner to create his landscape and to choose to coincide its exhibition with a meeting of the British Anti-Slavery Society. Although slavery had been outlawed in the British Empire since 1833, Turner and many other abolitionists believed that slavery should be outlawed around the world. Turner thus exhibited his painting during the anti-slavery conference, intending for Prince Albert, who was speaking at the event, to see it and be moved to increase British anti-slavery efforts.[citation needed] Placed next to the painting were lines from Turner's own untitled poem, written in 1812: "Aloft all hands, strike the top-masts and belay; Yon angry setting sun and fierce-edged clouds Declare the Typhon's coming. Before it sweeps your decks, throw overboard The dead and dying – ne'er heed their chains Hope, Hope, fallacious Hope! Where is thy market now?" ********************************************** William Turner 1840 The Slave Ship, oil on canvas, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston also known as "Slavers Throwing overboard the Dead and Dying—Typhoon coming on"

[100percentshipper]

Oh dear fucking lord New Zealand now has a fascist Trump supporter as the leader of the National Party

This will be a long one, ranty but I gotta lay the land for non Kiwis. You ready?

So New Zealand seems to be doing pretty darn well in international news due to the absolute bae we have as a prime minister, Jacinda Ardern.  Through not just covid (and through her actions that have almost eliminated the virus from NZ) but through a mass shooting at the Mosque in Christchurch last year (which saw sweeping gun control laws instituted within 2 weeks), an earthquake in Wellington and having a baby while in power, Jacinda has proven herself to be a fearless, clear headed, compassionate leader that has, quite honestly, been a revelation.  Finally a person in power who actually cares and it isn’t just a political stance.  Finally someone who can take action and take it in the best interest of the people and not just in the interest of deep pockets .  Finally someone who represents my values of kindness and caring and getting shit done.  While having a baby.  Okay. So I love Jacinda and I’m actually proud to be a kiwi with someone like her at the helm.

Talking to my mum (I don’t live in NZ) and she casually mentions that the leader of the National party changed 3 days ago on May 21st.  Jacinda is Labour (Democrate) and now we have Todd Muller for National (Republican).  He replaced former leader Simon Bridges who became unpopular due - well many things but the final nail in the coffin was due to being unable to read the room - and by that I mean he decided, during Jacinda’s exemplary work with Covid, to nitpick at her leadership when in fact she’s super popular right now because she’s amazing.  I’m biased, sue me, but so is most of NZ.  So a few days ago they replaced him because you can’t win with that tactic against the queen that Jacinda is.  In enters Todd Muller.  At first he seems a possible improvement but the red flags are flying high right now. 

I’d like to preface this by saying his background is in PR (or ‘Relations Manager if you will) which means nothing he is doing in his first days is unplanned or random.  He understands manipulation.  I’d also like to preface this by saying you may have already heard of this guy when, last year he heckled a young Green party member in NZ parliament to which she responded ‘Okay, boomer.’  Oh yeah, he’s the okay boomer guy.

So here are the red flags

First; he makes a point to mention his religion (catholic) saying it won’t impact his politics as it regrads to lgbtq+ (aparently he’s ‘relaxed’ on that point because he’s not a perfect catholic). Hmmm.  Jacinda is a former Mormon and never felt the need to mention that (it was only ever mentioned by others) so that certainly doesn’t bode well.  He’s obviously pretty darn religious to feel the need to address that issue and upon research ... he is.  That then raises all manners of questions around his belief in human rights especially for queer, non-white and women. As if I needed further confirmation, he believes in ‘family values’.  A scan of his wikipedia shows he holds a ‘conservative position’ on abortion, voting no on pro-choice policies in parliment. Oh boy.

Second; he passes a few compliments to Jacinda but the goes on to say that coming out of covid, New Zealand needs to support small businesses that have been affected and then shit on their financial response to covid when an independent reviewer gave them a tripe A rating.  Apparently he disagrees although National has yet to offer an alternative approach.  This might seem like an inocuous point - obvs as the oposition he’ll look to shit on something and sure, of course we should support small business, but he subtly positions it in such a way as to suggest that Jacinda isn’t making that a priority which... um dude, she’s labour.  Meaning she cares more about it than a national govt typically would.  But notice how he’s trying to sow little seeds there? The next years are going to be a bitch economically, not just for New Zealand but the world.  No one will come out unscathed but he’s lining up his ducks to capitalize on the shortfalls that will undoubtedly happen - not because the government (but lets be honest Jacinda will prob do a better job than anyone else could) but because we exist within a system that is maimed and broken and limping along. 

Third; now perhaps neither of these points seem that much of a deal, I mean don’t most conservative, old, rich, white male politicians have ‘family values’ and so what about wanting to support small business and sowing seeds of malcontent, it’s kinda his job.  Well, well, well, let me tell you...

So he is interviewed in his office back in September 2019.  He has some political ‘paraphernalia’ on his shelf.  There is a cap in the photo taken, on his shelf.  This cap comes from America.  It has a certain set of words that sends shivers down my spine.  Can you see it?

“Make America Great Again.”

Oh dear fucking lord.  Are you serious? He’s asked about it and he claims that he also has paraphenalia from Hillary Clinton, a badge which is probably also in the shot but it’s hard to tell.  Asked if the cap will go into his new office he says yes.  He even doubles down, saying that he is comfortable with that decision... he says that he’s long been a fan of the American system (I’m sorry Americans but honestly that is not something I want to hear out of a party leader from NZ where we have MMP which has been a boon to our country) and that’s fine but to display a MAGA cap and then say he will keep it in his office given what that cap represents and what ideologies that represents is not tone deaf, it is dangerous.  It says something about who he is and what he believes.  It is a sign to all the facists of New Zealand to rise up.  When asked if he supports Bernie or Trump ... he hesitates, lightfoots around the question and says that in a debate he watched between Bernie and Trump ‘Bernie gave the better speech’.  That wasn’t the question.  Who do you support?  Reminds me of the tactics my all American boss who carries around guns at all times and I’m 99% sure is a Trump supporter talks.

Now I don’t think he stands a chance to win the elections coming up in October because it’s Jacinda with 60% approval rating and his party has 30%.  But it’s also worrying because hate and fear mixed with covid is a potent brew and the signal he sends out will be seen and received by all the sleeper fascist agents across NZ and the world and like the covid virus itself, will awake and spread like wildfire.  And even if he back tracks and decides not to display it, it’s too late. You’ve shown where you stand and where you stand is fascist.  I hope to god he doesn’t stay the leader long and by the next election may he be a forgotten blip on the political landscape of New Zealand, but man.  I knew the other shoe had to drop in some way with regards to NZ politics and it wasn’t Jacinda dropping the shoe as might be expected because how is this woman even real, it was this Trump inspired alt-right dude.

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 13

Your name is LANQUE BOMBYX and joining a rebellion is either the best or worst thing you have ever done.

On one hand, it’s a great excuse to sneak out of the caverns and do something exciting. You’re having fun, you’re trying to make the world not a piece of shit, and you get to meet interesting new people who you haven’t lived with since you were literally four.

On the other, you now have to deal with things like getting into fights with mercenaries (your shoulder is still sore), putting even more effort into keeping Bronya and Lynera off your ass so they don’t suspect anything, and just generally trying to not get culled. It’s been hard not to feel more optimistic, though-- it’s hard to be bored when you’re constantly running around committing all sorts of crime.

There’s also the fact that despite dating the aforementioned mercenary bitch who mauled you, your dearest and most beloved party buddy has returned at last. Granted, they returned severely underweight, traumatized, and injured, but they came back, and a little piece of yourself that you didn’t even know had been missing fell back into place.

Not that you’d ever tell them that.

Ahem.

“You wanna zap back up to the caverns or are we walking?”

Your friend’s voice jolts you out of your thoughts, and you look down at them to meet their gaze. That oliveblood-- Polypa, had picked up a last-minute “job” as soon as the three of you got out of the danger zone that was the lowblood neighborhood. It was pretty clear that she didn’t want to leave her moirail alone with you, but the alien, bless their oblivious soul, just shooed her off with a demand that she be careful.

“Believe me, I am no hurry,” you mutter, kicking a pebble out of your path. It clatters down the sidewalk and into the street. Bronya is no doubt going to be furious with you for sneaking out while grounded, like she is with everything you do that isn’t related to being a good little cavern worker. You’re not looking forward to facing her wrath and possibly the palm of her hand.

“Yeah. I hope Bronya isn’t mad at me for dipping,” they mutter, looking a bit embarrassed.

You scoff. As if. “Bronya could never be mad at you, trust me. Just say you went along with me and the kids to keep us out of trouble and now you’re bringing me back.”

“I’m assuming she doesn’t know anything about our… club.”

“No, darling, and it’s going to stay that way for as long as possible.”

They frown. “Would she really be so pissed? I mean, she has her little technically legal nursery… which I know nothing about, because I’ve totally never helped out in there. Ever.”

“Bronya…” You have to do some thinking to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t be just calling the head jade a hypocritical piece of shit. You want the alien on your side. “Isn’t focused on the big picture. Nor does she want to be. Her whole world is the caverns, and I think if anybody tried to challenge that…”

“Things would be bad. Alright.” They look disappointed but don’t say anything else on the matter, which you appreciate.

You wrap your arm around their waist and pull them closer to you. They lean into your side with a sigh, tired, and for a moment you let yourself pretend that it’s just the two of you, walking back from a party like old times. No disappearances, no rebellion, just a strange pair of friends on their way home.

“Once we get back you’re taking a shower,” you say.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“That Gorjek was one-hundred percent right about your pores and that you stink like a corpse? Possibly. Probably.”

They elbow you in your grub scars and take off running when you swat at their head.

:::

As you feared, Bronya is waiting for you at the mouth of the cave when you and the alien arrive, hands on her hips and ears flat against the sides of her head.

If looks could kill you’d be a dead man. She opens her mouth, visibly swelling up in anger as you approach, but then her eyes flicker over to your mutual friend and something in them softens. Not for the first time, you’re selfishly grateful for them being around, if not just because you don’t have to deal with the brunt of Bronya’s anger. You know she refuses to make herself look bad in front of outsiders, the snake.  

“Hi. We’re back,” they say sheepishly.

“And I’m not drunk this time,” you add, smiling down at her. Try and swing on me while I’m sober, bitch.

“Two whole nights out, in a row, while you’re grounded, and you brought the kids?” Bronya hisses. “And our friend? They’re supposed to be recovering!”

“I’m healed now, actually! We met up with a pal who helped me out. Also, I went out of my own accord,” the alien interjects.

Bronya huffs. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better--”

They give her finger guns.

“-- but that doesn’t change the fact that Lanque directly disobeyed orders. Again. What were you even doing?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation every time I want to take a break from this hellhole,” you snort. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend begin to nervously look around as if pretending like none of this is happening. You don’t blame them.

“You owe everybody an explanation for why they had to cover your duties while you were off doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who!”

“We get it, Ursama, I’m a whore. Can we go now?”

“That’s not what I-!”

“Lanque’s baaacckkkk!”

Your savior comes in the form of a young lady flying out of the caverns at top speed and latching on to your waist. The force is almost enough to knock you over, but thankfully you were given enough warning to anticipate the attack.

The anger brewing in your gut vanishes like mist in sunlight. Wanshi beams up at you, one fang missing from her top set of teeth. Looks like her adult teeth are finally coming in. “There she is! Were you good while I was gone?”

“Nope!”

“That’s my girl,” you praise, scooping her up and setting her on your hip.

“Wanshi. Did you finish sweeping the classroom?” Bronya asks, stern but far more kind.

“Duh.” Wanshi sticks her tongue out at Bronya and giggles when the head jade gives her a look. The alien takes notice of her missing fang and starts fussing excitedly over it-- you guess losing wiggler teeth is important in their culture as well.

It’s just the distraction you need to tighten your hold on Wanshi and casually toss an arm around the alien’s bony shoulders. You look past Ursama to the woods beyond, focusing your gaze on something. “Hey, Bronya? Aren’t those cholerbear tracks over there?”

She stiffens and whips around to follow your line of sight. “What?”

“Run!”

You grab the alien’s hand and break into a sprint, pulling them along with you despite their yelp of surprise. Wanshi wraps her arms around your neck and hangs on as you make a sharp right, dodge the girl who’s up next for guard duty, before darting down a corridor that’s rarely used except for meetings. The lights aren’t even on, which helps you avoid detection as some of your fellow cloistermates pass by the adjacent tunnel.

There’s an abandoned classroom up ahead, and the door is slightly ajar. Perfect.

Wanshi’s snickering uncontrollably by the time you set her down and kick the door shut behind the three of you. Beside you, the alien joins in, looking guilty, but you can easily see the huge grin they’re trying to suppress. You lock the door and herd them and the younger jadeblood farther into the darkness.

“I can’t believe she fell for that!” Wanshi whispers gleefully. “Oh, Lynera’s gonna be so-!”

Sharp, angry footsteps come storming down the corridor, their owner testing each door with a vengeance. All three of you freeze.

Wanshi dives into the lowest space on a bookshelf and flattens herself against the far side of it. You look around frantically, cursing your height, only for a pair of small hands to shove you into the corner farthest away from the door.

You look down at your friend, who blinks up at you, pupils completely blown out. It’s a second before you remember that they can’t see well in the dark. You’re flattered that they trust you enough to willingly put themselves into a situation where they’re so obviously vulnerable, and perhaps a little turned on.

“Lanque! Come on!” you hear Bronya growl in exasperation, and you suddenly remember another situation very much like this one: you and the alien in a dark room, with Bronya hunting you down like an enraged lusus. You’re holding them close to you, and you feel the thrumming of their heart like a featherbeast’s, the heat of their body, their distinctive scent filling your lungs. It’s the smell of something fiery yet sweet, completely unlike anything else on this planet.

Your gaze drops back down to them from the doorway. Their face has a reddish tint to it now. “Hm. This seems familiar.”

They swallow, open-mouthed and flustered. It’s irresistible.

“Going to yell for Mother, are we?” you whisper, pulling them even closer.

Dull nails dig into your forearms. “I made that up to you a long time ago, babe.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I just like making fun of you.”

“If that’s making fun of me, you should know I’ve had nastier conversations with the grubs in the nursery. Looks like somebody lost his touch while I was away,” they hiss under their breath. A slow smile spreads across their face as you bare your fangs at them. They’re totally fearless and it enrages and impresses you in equal measures.

The doorknob rattles. Both of you stiffen. Neither looks away.

It’s too long before the footsteps fade away, and even longer before you move. Then again, you’re forced to move because the first thing the alien does upon deciding they’re in the clear is to kick you in the shins like the little gremlin they are.

“You little-!”

“Sucks to suck, pretty boy. First one to your respiteblock gets the shower.”

“You do know I’m much faster than you, right? And stronger-?”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence before they disappear in a flash of light.

Spots dance before your eyes like you just got whacked upside the head with Elwurd’s bat, making you rapidly blink to clear them away. You don’t even realize you’re swearing up a storm before something tugs on your sleeve.

Wanshi looks up at you in awe as you begin to hate yourself even more than you already do. “Are you guys gonna need a bucket? ‘Cause I can go get one for you if you want.”

“... If you don’t ever tell a single soul what just happened I’ll bring you to wherever you want to go in the city the next night I’m off.”

“And you have to roleplay with me.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Deal!”

“Deal? I’m the one making a deal, you brat--”

Somehow, you manage to wrangle the hellion back into her respiteblock without attracting the attention of either Bronya or Lynera, which is a win in your book. When you get back to your own dorm, however, you��re greeted with the sight of an alien lounging on your carpet and a damp towel serving as their plate as they munch on a sandwich.

“Don’t worry, the towel’s mine,” they say in lieu of a greeting. Their post-shower scent clings to everything like a perfume. It’s distracting; you need a distraction.

“I still don’t know how you manage to eat anything with those useless teeth of yours. Do humans only eat soft food?” you snort.

“At least we don’t eat raw ass bones like some sort of wild animal.”

“Bones are good for exoskeleton development and strength.”

They pretend to gag. You throw your jacket at them and ignore their complaining as you go get changed in the other room. For the millionth time, you’re blown away by the fact they’re here. They’re here, and you’re both teasing each other and flirting and fighting just like they never even left.

You have no idea why this whole ordeal is impacting you so much. It’s not like you two were joined at the hip or anything before.

“Hey, Lanque?”

The real world returns as your friend’s voice registers in your thinkpan. “Yes?”

“How old are jadebloods when they have to start living at the caverns?”

“... Well, it depends. If there’s a shortage of workers at a nearby cloister then any jades nearby have a greater chance of getting chosen. Some start as young as three sweeps, some don’t have to until they’re six or seven.”

They’re silent for a moment. “How old were you? I mean, you don’t have to tell me--”

“I was four.”

“Oh.”

You grab a frozen burrito out of your hull and heat it up for dinner. When it’s ready, you throw it on a plate and rejoin the alien in the other part of the dorm. Their eyes are looking somewhere far away as you sit down beside them to lean against the loungeplank. The pajama shirt they’re wearing is far too big for them, draping listlessly over their petite frame, and your jacket is slung across their shoulders.

“I had a revelation the other night,” they tell you.

“Oh?”

“This is fucked up.”

“Anything in particular, or is this a ‘fuck my life’ sort of situation?”

“The caverns, actually. When we were sneaking out to go meet up with the teals, I just…” They gesture to nothing. “Jades really don’t get to be their own person, do they? When you get cloistered, that’s it. The rest of your life is devoted entirely to taking care of babies, of other people. And maybe some of them really like it! And they’re happy and find fulfillment in raising kids. But there’s so many people who just don’t. How are you supposed to find out who you are if you’re supposed to give everything you have away?”

You stare at them in amazement.

“Wanshi’s still losing baby teeth, for fuck’s sake! She should be outside, running around with other kids her age, getting dirty, having fun. She’s not-- she’s not supposed to be a mother! Not yet, anyways, if that’s what she wants when she grows up. Also, why the hell do you guys have to wear uniforms in your own home? Why are there drones in your own home? Jesus fucking Christ, this whole planet is a nightmare.”

“Don’t let Bronya hear you say any of that,” you say, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind after they stop to catch their breath.

Your friend groans and buries their face in their hands. “Look, Bronya’s great. She’s one of the most caring people I know. But can’t she see how this hurts a lot of the jades she’s supposed to be leading?”

“Again, dear. The caverns are her world.”

Eyes that are somehow green and brown and blue all at once train on you with a ferocity you’ve never seen before on your sweet-natured friend. “Lanque. When we win, no jade will ever have to live in a cloister, not if they don’t want to. Nobody will ever have to give up their life like that again. I can’t tell you how, or when, but it’s gonna happen whether the world likes it or not.”

“Don’t…” You swallow back something hard and painful in your throat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“It’s not a promise. It’s a threat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even as something in your cold, twisted bloodpusher unravels and softens. If this little alien, who’s already half-asleep on your floor, says that they’re gonna change the world… well, who are you to not believe them?

You drag them up onto the loungeplank before they can pass out on you. And when you fall asleep as well, it’s with a racing thinkpan and strange dreams of a planet with vast blue oceans and a single silver moon hanging low in the night sky.

:::

The alien’s gone the next evening when you wake up. They did, however, leave a note for you on the loungeplank.

Lanque,

Thanks for letting me crash at your place. 10/10 loungeplank, would sleep on it again. Don’t sneak out today, I’m going to be at the bombed neighborhood helping out anybody who wants it. Say hi to the girls for me.

Have a good night, bitch.

XOXO,

       - M

[lurea]

Part 4: Love You, Darlin’ til the End

This is NOT NEW.  I just discovered, thanks to  @justanotheridijiton that this had been deleted by the tumblr-bots.  Prolly because of the swears.  I’ve removed them and again thanks to Mel, found the text on the Wayback Archive so I could replace it.  It had pics originally, but since this was written in 2013 or something ridiculous like that, I’ll have to do some spelunking to find them.  

I find in 2020, that I don’t actually agree with every detail that I rhapsodized about here...  But I do still agree with the premise, which was that 5.04 was sneakily planned and shot to give the impression that in the future Dean and Cas were in a relationship.  The suits (or someone) objected, which is why the line change happened....but they still left in the set dressing, the wardrobe and all the other small things that suggest they are together together.  On a recent re-watch, I mentally high-fived chuck-- “Of course, Cas is here!  He’s not going anywhere!”

I was amused to note Risa hiding the back corner, away from Cas, as well she should be, since she been messin’ around with Cas’s man.  

All the significant looks between Cas, and past and future Dean...  It’s a beautiful episode.  I still hope it’s where we are heading, in the real upcoming End.   We’ll see.  

To see the original pics, enter this link :  

https://lurea.tumblr.com/post/33015108069/5-04-loving-you-darling-till-the-end-future-dean

into the Wayback archive  and select April 5, 2019 from the date choices.  That should get you a snap of the original post.  

All right!  The End is here!   (see what I did there? hehehe)  

Part One         Part Two         Part Three  

Now?   Future!Dean returns from his mission.  And we have the LINE.  That line that precipitated this ridiculously long analysis of Future!Dean and Future!Cas.  And the camera shot: Future!Dean, Past!Dean turning to look at Cas, and Cas coming into focus.  Future!Dean is clearly referring to Past!Dean.  So why does Past!Dean turn to look at Cas?

Future!Dean: I’m not gonna lie to you. Me and him—It’s a pretty messed-up situation we got going. But believe me, when you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do.

Here is Past!Dean…confused, upset because Baby is broken, Bobby is dead, Cas is acting weird, he’s in the past, everything sucks, and now Future!Dean just cold-bloodedly shot a friend?  Shot one of his own men in the head.  Future!Dean yells something, and the armed men standing behind him all turn to stare…  To stare at something behind Past!Dean and to his left.  

So what does Past!Dean do?  He turns to look at whoever it is behind him that the camp folks are staring at.  Who is it?  Cas. That’s why the camera sweeps over Dean and lingers on Cas and brings him into focus.  The camera is the point of view.  The men hear Future!Dean talking blah blah something-something….but what they see is that obviously something is up with Cas.

Of course, the others are all staring at Cas.  Cas is the one that they know has a ‘messed-up  situation’ with the Fearless Leader.  They are NOT looking at Past!Dean.  

If armed men were staring at Dean, the last thing he would do would be to turn his back on them–his instincts are too good for that. He might smile disarmingly, he might make a thumbs up, or he might try to out-stare them, but he wouldn’t just not respond and turn away.  They’re staring at Cas and Past!Dean follows their line of sight and turns to look at Cas, too.  

Can we say it all together?  Because Dean and Cas are lovers and the WHOLE FREAKIN’ CAMP knows it.  

On to the meeting scene in that storage room.  The meeting scene makes it clear that Cas doesn’t always agree with Dean, that he speaks his opinion when he thinks it’s called for.  And can we talk about this?  Cas, sitting with his feet on the table?  No one else is even sitting at the table, much less putting their feet up on it.  No one else argues with Dean.  Those two things right there reflect Cas’ status.  

No one BUT a lover would so obviously stake a claim to their place at the table… to their TERRITORY, practically daring anyone else…like say, RISA… to push his feet aside and sit down.  Daring anyone else to take his place at Dean’s side.  

And Risa sure doesn’t, she stays to one side and doesn’t talk much.  In fact, she’s obviously pretty crushed by Future! Dean neither knowing or caring why she’s angry–Past Dean has to explain, and after that, Risa says very little.  Future Dean doesn’t address her feelings, or apologize or even ACKNOWLEDGE them.  Compare that to how he behaves when Future Cas pays attention to Past Dean–it’s a huge contrast.  

[ two pics of Cas sitting at the table, with future!Dean in background ]

Just look at the body language established in these two shots. Risa far to one side.  No one else at the table.  No one else coming between Cas and Dean.  There’s ONE other chair at this table and that ONE chair is for Dean.  Cas has the other chair.  Because there isn’t anyone else.  For either of them.

Cas, at one side of the table and Dean, at the other.  Cas, feet propped on his side.  Dean, leaning on his hands on his side.  The point of view for the second shot, having Dean almost framed by Cas’ legs…that is suggestive framing!  Very very suggestive framing, implying a romantic/sexual connection between the characters!!  I mean, they could have made it a tiny bit more blatant if Cas’ legs had been spread…  

But this is clear enough.  You get the vibe.  And that, in my opinion, is yet ANOTHER reason why The End is so profoundly unsettling and upsetting.  There’s so much hinted..so much tension… so much that goes unspoken…that you can’t even put into words why you’re so upset…  You just know that you are.  

Future!Dean, in turn, has his laser-like focus on Cas.  As I noted above, he barely talks to either Risa or Past!Dean.   When Past!Dean explains about Risa, he tersely tells him to shut up.  Who does he talk to?  Cas. And when he pulls out the Colt, where does he put it?  On the table by Cas.

When Cas chuckles at Past!Dean’s torture comment, Future!Dean gives Cas a look, questioning and definitely jealous.    

Cas responds…without Future!Dean even saying a word, because that’s just how well these lovers know each other.  That they can have whole conversations with just a couple of words…and a look.

“What? I like Past you!”  Cas sounds defensive.  Future!Dean flicks a quick glance at Past!Dean and then back to Cas, and drops his eyes.  His lips part briefly.  Again, he doesn’t say a word, but there’s certainly a sense that he is hurt and taken aback by Cas’ comment.  

Probably both he and Cas are thinking about the past.  In 2009, before they were lovers.  Before all they had was each other, before they were lost…  and broken.  Future!Dean spreads out the map on the table.  From that point, until after everyone else is gone, Future!Dean only speaks to one person: Cas.  

When he pulls out the map, where does he put it?  On the table by Cas.  He doesn’t even OFFER to let anyone else look at anything.  There’s only ONE person whose opinion that he wants, that he has any questions for…and that person is Cas. He lets Cas criticize his plan, he lets Cas make snarky comments.  He asks Cas if he’s saying that his plan is reckless.  He stares into Cas’ eyes fiercely, ignoring everyone and everything else in the room.  And then he asks his most important question.

[ close up of jealous future!Dean ]

Dean: Are you coming?

Future Dean acts this way because he doesn’t care about Cas? Pfffft.  He asks this BECAUSE he cares about Cas.  Because he loves Cas, he wants Cas, he NEEDS Cas.  He also needs to kill the devil.  He also knows it’ll probably kill both of them.  It’s not simple, people.  Love never is.  

And if Cas had said “No” here, I think it would have broken him.  I think that’s how much Cas means to him.

Cas:  Of course.

And then…    Oh yes!  There is a Past!Dean reaction shot. So much has zoomed by him and most of it is subtext…most of it is unspoken.  But it’s clear (to me) that there is a lot going on in this episode that no one wanted Past!Dean to know.  That they didn’t want to explain the whole messy long tragic business of how they got from there…to here.  How they ended up in this crazy, punishing, clamps and feathers relationship, that doesn’t seem like it will lead them anywhere except to death.  

But this reaction shot?  Oh, Past!Dean gets it now.  Future!Dean’s expressions, their interactions….he gets it.  And this is another thread that will lead us right back to the present…and the name of that thread is Don’t ever change, Cas.  

But that’s a lie..  And it’s a lie that Dean will see for himself soon enough, because you can’t stop change, you can’t keep things the same and sometimes you can’t fight fate.  

I’d like to believe that these Future Dean and Future Cas managed to have some tender make-up sex before they leave. Or even rough fast sex. But I doubt it.  *sniff*  The meeting scene goes quickly because Dean and Cas have already had this argument about the goal of killing Lucifer.   Dean is not backing down, so Cas does.  Because Cas loves Dean, and if Dean decides that this is it, then that’s the way Cas rolls.

It’s significant that as soon as they are alone in the car, THAT is the time that Past Dean decides to start questioning Cas.  It’s no coincidence that he’s asking questions now after that reaction shot in the meeting scene.  He even mentions “love guru crap” which is as close as we’re going to get Dean asking about why Future Dean and Future Cas have this weird intensity between them.  

And in the truck is where we have the line that should have been this:  

Cas:  The only thing that I think we have left, Dean and me, is each other. If Dean says that it’s time to go out in a blaze of glory, win or lose, so be it, I’m in.  But then…(smiles easily) that’s just how I roll.  

Changed to this:

Cas: And now I’m powerless. I’m hapless, I’m hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It’s the end, baby. That’s what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that’s, that’s just how I roll.

Let’s look at how much this changes the vibe and interpretation of Dean and Cas’ relationship.  

In the original line, the only relationship mentioned or referenced is the one between Dean and Cas.  Which is appropriate, because we KNOW it’s an important relationship, we’ve spent all this blankety- blank time building it and developing it, and it’s the subtle undercurrent that infuses this ENTIRE EPISODE.  

But the changed line drops that and tosses in a throwaway reference to Cas having sex with women.  

The first line states that Dean is the cause that Cas orders his life by.  Just like Meg tells us in season 7.   Cas isn’t despairing…Cas has found the person he loves, the person that he serves, and he’s happy with that.  Maybe he wishes that some things could be different, but he is following Dean and that’s the way he was meant to be.  

In the second line, Cas is 'hopeless’…he is 'hapless’.  He’s just waiting for the lights to go out.  Instead of having found peace and love in being with the person that he was meant to be with, he is suicidal.  

Think about that, and get pissed off with me.  Instead of being in a loving relationship, Cas is suicidal.  You want queer baiting?  That’s blankety-blank queer baiting!  

This pisses me off.  I love The End, don’t get me wrong, but it pisses me off that such a beautifully constructed episode would have gotten derailed, and its message diluted because of someone’s stupid homophobia.  Someone that is not Ben Edlund (who wrote it) OR Jeremy Carver (who wrote “Free”).  Because as Mark Shepard said so admirably, it’s time we grew up about LGT issues.  

Because that’s got to be the reason.  Suddenly instead of Cas’ and Dean’s relationship being the focus, we’re talking about Cas having group sex.  Instead of Cas making the commitment to follow Dean.. wherever it leads them. …  Cas is suicidal and just waiting to die.  

Now several others have pointed out different interpretations of that line to me…and a couple of points…I don’t believe that Dean and Cas in the future are mere puppets of Zachariah and so not truly Dean and Cas.  There are too many other times where Dean and Cas show End!verse symptoms (Cas getting drunk, torturing having a negative effect on Dean) that make it clear to me that they are being true to their characters.  

But others also pointed out that the first line just isn’t depressing enough for what they wanted the episode to convey–which is, Dean’s worst nightmare.  Outpastthemoat says it pretty well–that the new line better destroys any remaining hope that Dean might have about whether he could be good for Cas, whether he is right to continue to say No to Michael, and so on.  

That is certainly true..but I still like the old line better.  I mean, seriously, they do all still end up dead!  That’s pretty depressing to me! (sulks)  

Look, say…believe… whatever you like about Dean and Cas, but this line is proof that The End was originally intended –beyond a shadow of a doubt!– to establish that Dean and Cas are in love and have been lovers.  

And again, it’s no coincidence that this episode followed “Free to be you and me,” which explored Dean and Cas’ considerable romantic chemistry and attraction.  "Free" is the journey…but “The End” is the destination.

(insert one moment of absolute fangirl squealing because with Carver at the helm and The End verse already established as our destination, folks, the probability of Dean/Cas becoming unequivocally canon just shot way way up!)

deep breath

But anyway, back to Past Dean, in the truck with Future Cas.  And his efforts to pry and find out what is going on between Dean and Cas in the future.  If we’d had our line (fumes) it would have been clear.  But instead, we have some misdirection.  But that’s all right.  It might frustrate things for us, the audience.  But it doesn’t change anything for Past Dean.  

Because Past Dean didn’t start questioning until he noticed how Future Dean behaved toward Cas.  And Dean knows himself.  

He knows his lying expressions.  He knows his loving expressions.  And his jealous ones.  He knows.  That’s why he separates out Cas when he asks Future Dean if he was going to put his friends through a meat grinder…and Cas too?  

Because Past! Dean knows that Future Dean loves Cas.  He’s hoping that that pointing out that Cas will die will get through to Future Dean like nothing else could.

And it does.  Future Dean looks away.  He has to look away.  And that…that is when Past Dean says..   “Oh man, something is broken in you.”  Because he can see that Future Dean loves Cas, and Future Dean is still going to go through with this plan.  

Future! Dean– when he is talking to past!Dean?  This is not the face of someone who doesn’t care.

[pic of sad future!Dean ]

Okay, this next bit is admittedly speculation.  But it does mesh well with the patterns of behavior that we’ve seen before from Dean.  

So why has Future Dean been behaving in such a chilly manner?  We get a flash of emotion when Cas laughs at Past Dean, another when Past Dean says “You’re broken,” but not much more.  Why?  

Oh, I do think Dean actually loves Cas as much as he is able,  I think Past Dean saw that as well, which is why he makes the comments that he makes.  And Future Dean is chilly because he loves Cas.  

So he’s not sharing a vehicle with Cas on the ride to their last mission.   That’s probably why he precipitated my theoretical argument between them.  Why he hasn’t been sleeping with Cas in the cabin that they share.  

Because it’s going to hurt to let Cas die for this plan, but it has to be done.   So Future Dean will do it, and he’s not planning on living through this either.  

But there’s only so much that he can take, and he can’t be Cas’ lover, ride with Cas in the car, interact with Cas, knowing what he knows.  So he shuts those feelings away so that he can get through it.  

But this face?  Not the face of someone who doesn’t care.

[ pic of sad future!Dean, leaning against the car, before heading in ]

That’s the face of someone hurting, who is trying to hide it.  Because that’s what Dean does, past and present.  He denies.  He avoids.  He represses.  And the fact that he’s doing all these things here, in this episode, when everything and everyone else in the episode suggest that Cas and Dean are very very close…   It means that yes, there IS something to repress.  He HAS to repress it.  That coldness…is because it’s the only way that he can cope.  

Blah, blah, Lucifer.  Not interested in this part and I’m sure someone else has done a wonderful meta on it.  :)  

Let’s talk about what happens when past!Dean returns to 2009, and Zachariah threatens him.  And who saves Dean?  Cas.  We and Dean, were expecting Cas to show up at the hotel.  Obviously, Cas sensed Zachariah’s presence with Dean, and rescued Dean.  (Does he brag? Does he say, saved your ass yet again, Winchester?  Nope. Gosh, Cas you are awesome. You deserve a hug.)

Dean: That’s some pretty nice timing, Cas.

Cas: We had an appointment.

Dean: Don’t ever change. 

[ pic of Cas looking snackalicious ]

Don’t ever change.  Don’t get broken.  Don’t become addicted.  Don’t bury yourself in physical sensations to make up for the pain of all the losses that you suffered because of me.  

Don’t fall in love with me, Cas, because I’m broken and I’m not good for you.  

Dean is extremely shaken by his experiences in the End Verse.  He’s so shaken that he reaches out and touches Cas tenderly…lovingly.  He reunites with Sam.  All in an effort to keep himself from become the cold, broken man he saw in 2014.  And it was The End that led us directly to 99 Problems and Point of No Return and Dean’s decision to say YES to Michael.

Which he doesn’t end up doing, after all.  And let’s take a quick glance forward, where Dean spent most of last season quite openly and obviously mourning for Cas.  Because he loves him.  Because despite everything that happened in The End, despite all those clear-as-day warnings, Dean still fell in love with Cas.  

Maybe it was too late then.  It’s too late, always was, always will be…. Too late, once he’d laid a hand on him and pulled him out of hell.  

Because.. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up–here.  

Because…  Destiny can’t be changed, and all roads lead to the same destination.

Here, in this post-Apocalypse where the only thing that Cas thinks they have left.. is each other.

sigh

So let’s review:

The sets, especially the large cabin that we find Cas in:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Chuck’s and Risa’s reactions:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Cas’ dialogue, esp. the  "gotten over trying to label me" bit:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Future!Dean’s dialogue and focus on Cas: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Cas’ body language: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Their wardrobe: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

The way their shots are framed and filmed:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

The reaction shot of the armed men and Past!Dean turning to look at Cas: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

The original dialogue from the truck scene:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

One last thought and then I’ll shut up.  

Who does Past!Dean look at in the photo at Bobby’s?  Cas

Who does Past!Dean go to see first?  Cas

Whose side of the table is past!Dean standing on?  Cas

Who does Past!Dean ride with to the mission and question about his past and seem extremely interested in?  Cas

Who does Past!Dean attempt to save from Future!Dean’s suicide plan? Cas

For Dean, past and present, it’s Cas Cas Cas Cas….

And for Cas, past and present, it’s Dean Dean Dean….  

Just shut up and kiss already, you two!  

Snatch a little bit of happiness before we get to The End.  Please?

Please?

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Alright, relate yours OCs or ship to my fav album songs Taylor Swift: Tim McGraw, Cold As You, Picture To Burn, Should’ve Said No Fearless: White Horse, Tell Me Why, Forever & Always Speak Now: Speak Now, Sparks Fly, Back To December, The Story Of Us, Better Than Revenge Red: Red, Treacherous, WANEGBT, The Last Time, All Too Well, I Almost Do 1989: Style, Wildest Dreams, New Romantics Rep: End Game, IDSB, Getaway Car, DWOHT, KOMH Lover: Cruel Summer, The Man, MA&THP, Cornelia Street, London Boy

Tim McGraw: ooof okay this is totally Fallon Parris Jones and Reggie Mantle?  Actually their second first time (first time after they said ‘I love you’ and were dating not fwb lmao) was entirely based around this song!!

But when you think "Tim McGraw"/I hope you think my favourite song/The one we danced to all night long/The moon like a spotlight on the lake/When you think happiness/I hope you think "that little black dress"/Think of my head on your chest/And my old faded blue jeans

Cold As You: Aaliya Andrews x Graham Frank

You have a way of coming easily to me/And when you take, you take the very best of me/So I start a fight 'cause I need to feel somethin'/And you do what you want 'cause I'm not what you wanted

You put up the walls and paint them all a shade of gray/And I stood there loving you, and wished them all away/And you come away with a great little story/Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you

Picture To Burn: ngl also Fallon Parris Jones but Fallon and Sweet Pea!  Which I hate because I hate being mean to my beloved son but that’s just how their relationship went?

So watch me strike a match/On all my wasted time/As far as I'm concerned you're/Just another picture to burn/There's no time for tears/I'm just sitting here/Planning my revenge/There's nothing stopping me/From going out with all of your best friends

or worst enemies as the case may be

Should’ve Said No: Roxie Flores x Noah Puckerman

You should've said no, you should've gone home/You should've thought twice before you let it all go/You should've know that word, bout what you did with her/Would get back to me

I can't resist, before you go, tell me this/Was it worth it/Was she worth this

White Horse: Lucy and Alexander Pierce

Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale/I'm gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me well/This is a big world, that was a small town/There in my rear view mirror disappearing now

And also Aaliya Andrews x Graham Frank & Delaney Carlyle x Reggie Mantle/Chuck Clayton

I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale/I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet/Lead her up the stairwell/This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town/I was a dreamer before you went and let me down/Now it's too late for you/And your white horse, to come around

Tell Me Why: Carmen Rivera x Jackson Whittemore

And I need you like a heartbeat/But you know you got a mean streak/Makes me run for cover when you're around/And here's to you and your temper/Yes, I remember what you said last night/And I know that you see what you're doing to me/Tell me why

Forever & Always: Charlie Dugan x Flash Thompson

And I stare at the phone, he still hasn't called/And then you feel so low you cant feel nothing at all/And you flashback to when he said forever and always

Speak Now: Ooof Jennifer Andrews x FP Jones

This is surely not what you thought it would be/I lose myself in a daydream/Where I stand and say/"Don't say yes, run away now/I'll meet you when you're out/Of the church at the back door/Don't wait or say a single vow/You need to hear me out"/And they said, "speak now"

Sparks Fly: Alexis Argent x Lydia Martin x Scott McCall!!

Drop everything now/Meet me in the pouring rain/Kiss me on the sidewalk/Take away the pain/Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile

ALSO Kit Conrad x Hope Mikaelson

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm/And I'm a house of cards/You're the kind of reckless that should send me running/But I kinda know that I won't get far

Back To December: Angela DeSantos x Veronica Lodge

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right/And how you held me in your arms that September night/The first time you ever saw me cry/Maybe this is wishful thinking/Probably mindless dreaming/But if we loved again I swear I'd love you right

The Story Of Us: Juliet Capes x Fangs Fogarty

I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us/How we met and the sparks flew instantly/People would say, "they're the lucky ones"/I used to know my place was a spot next to you/Now I'm searching the room for an empty seat/Cause lately I don't even know what page you're on

Better Than Revenge: Amethyst Andrews, wrt Betty and Cheryl

Betty - 

I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey/You might have him, but haven't you heard/I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey/You might have him, but I'll always get the last word

Cheryl -

She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list/She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it/I think her ever present frown is a little troubling/And, she thinks I'm psycho/Cause I like to rhyme her name with things, but/Sophistication isn't what you wear, or who you know/Or pushing people down to get you where you wanna go/Oh they didn't teach you that in prep school/So it's up to me/But no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity

Red: Ophelia Dane x Ben Hargreeves

Losing him was blue like I'd never known/Missing him was dark grey, all alone/Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met/But loving him was red

Treacherous: Ashley Wilson x Percy Jackson

And I just think you should, think you should know/That nothing safe is worth the drive

WANEGBT: Percy Flowers x Brett Talbot

I remember when we broke up, the first time/Saying, "This is it, I've had enough"/Cause like we hadn't seen each other in a month/When you, said you, needed space (what?)

The Last Time: Carmen Rivera x Lydia Martin

This is the last time I'm asking you this/Put my name at the top of your list/This is the last time I'm asking you why/You break my heart in the blink of an eye

All Too Well: Also Fallon x Sweet Pea ouch

And I know it's long gone and/That magic's not here no more/And I might be okay/But I'm not fine at all

I Almost Do: Luna Hale x Isaac Lahey

I bet/You think I either moved on or hate you/Cause each time you reach out there's no reply/I bet/It never ever occurred to you/That I can't say "Hello" to you/And risk another goodbye

Style: ooh Anastasia Andrews x Jughead Jones

You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt/And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

and also Amethyst Andrews x Sweet Pea

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye/And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like/And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

Wildest Dreams: Ariel Blossom x Malachai

He's so tall, and handsome as hell/He's so bad but he does it so well/I can see the end as it begins, my one condition is/Say you'll remember me/Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset babe

and Cathy x Bill x Stan

Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams

New Romantics: Amara Caro & Percy Flowers!!!  

Baby, we're the new romantics/Come on, come along with me/Heart break is the national anthem/We sing it proudly/We are too busy dancing/To get knocked off our feet/Baby, we're the new romantics/The best people in life are free

And Arianne Martin!!

Cause, baby, I could build a castle/Out of all the bricks they threw at me/And every day is like a battle/But every night with us is like a dream

End Game: Amethyst Andrews x Sweet Pea 100%

Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy/I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me/And I can't let you go, your hand print's on my soul/It's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold/You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks/So here's the truth from my red lipsI wanna be your endgame

also Stevie Cooper x Joaquin DeSantos

I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders/Reputation precedes me, in rumors I'm knee deep/The truth is it's easier to ignore it, believe me

IDSB: Arianne Martin 

I can feel the flames on my skin/Crimson red paint on my lips/If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing/I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming

and also Katarina Aliano

They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one/So light me up

and Amethyst Andrew

I never trust a narcissist/But they love me/So I play 'em like a violin/And I make it look oh so easy

This is how the world works/You gotta leave before you get left

Getaway Car: April King x Diego Hargreeves

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes/I struck a match/And blew your mind, but I didn't mean it/And you didn't see it/The ties were black, the lies were white/And shades of grey in candlelight

Percy Flowers x Scott McCall (x Brett Talbot)

I wanted to leave him/I needed a reason

DWOHT: Amethyst Andrews x Sweet Pea

I’m a mess, but I’m the mess that you wanted

My love had been frozen/Deep blue, but you painted me golden/Oh, and you held me close/Oh, how was I to know

Abigayle Whittemore x Allison Argent x Scott McCall

I could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets/Picture of your face in an invisible locket/You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it

Adrienne Argent x Liam Dunbar

I'd kiss you as the lights went out/Swaying as the room burned down/I'd hold you as the water rushes in/If I could dance with you again

KOMH: Amethyst Andrews x Sweet Pea

Is this the end of all the endings?/My broken bones are mending/With all these nights we’re spending/Up on the roof with a school girl crush/Drinking beer out of plastic cups/Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

I made up my mind, I’m better off being alone

Avalon Le Fay x Jay

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for/King of my heart, body and soul

Camila Nelson x Steve Harrington

Your love is a secret/I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep/Change my priorities/The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

Cruel Summer: Aaliya Andrews x Jason Blossom

And I snuck in through the garden gate/Every night that summer just to seal my fate

and Amethyst Andrews x Sweet Pea

And I scream, “For whatever it’s worth/I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?”

The Man: AMETHYST FUCKING ANDREWS YALL

I’d be a fearless leader/I’d be an alpha type

I’m so sick of running as fast as I can/Wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man 

They’d paint me out to be bad/So, it’s okay that I’m mad

MA&THP: Amethyst Andrews x Sweet Pea

It’s you and me, that’s my whole world/They whisper in the hallway, “She’s a bad, bad girl”

No cameras catch my muffled cries/I counted days, I counted miles/To see you there, to see you there/And now the storm is coming

You know I adore you, I’m crazier for you/Than I was at 16, lost in a film scene

Beverly Mantle & Reggie Mantle

We’re so sad, we paint the town blue/Voted most likely to run away with you

My team is losing, battered and bruising/I see the high fives between the bad guys/Leave with my head hung, you are the only one/Who seems to care

American stories burning before me/I’m feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed

Beverly Mantle x Fangs x Sweet Pea (in Inescapable Secrets)

Waving homecoming queens, marching band playing/I’m lost in the lights/American glory faded before me

Now I’m feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress/Running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard/And ran for my life

No cameras catch my pageant smile/I counted days, I counted miles/To see you there

It’s you and me, that’s my whole world/They whisper in the hallway, “She’s a bad, bad girl”/The whole school is rolling fake dice/You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

Cornelia Street: Selena McCall x Derek Hale

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends/I’d never walk Cornelia Street again/That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend/I’d never walk Cornelia Street again

Adrienne Argent x Liam Dunbar

Windows swung right open, autumn air/Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours

London Boy: Alissara Baratheon x Oberyn Martell

But something happened, I heard him laughing/I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent/They say home is where the heart is/But that’s not where mine lives

Send me a song and I’ll tell you which OC(s) it fits best

[lilyev]

wassup my dudes, i’m bee and i’m a huge ass nerd who’s super excited to be here ! pls take my daughter lily and love her, or hate her, w/e, i’m fine with it either way

isn’t that LILY EVANS ? yeah that is HER, sitting there at the GRYFFINDOR table with those other SIXTH years and i think i heard sybill saying they look like ZOEY DEUTCH… whoever that is! when she looks into her crystal ball she sees fireflies, coffee with cinnamon, cigarettes in the backyard, honey-flavoured chapstick, chipped nail polish, lying on the roof during a thunderstorm, flowers growing from cracks in the pavement, the feeling you get walking out from a cinema.  anyway i’ve heard they’re pretty TENDERHEARTED, TEMPESTUOUS, and INDEPENDENT. apparently they’re a MUGGLEBORN but i’m sure that’s not related. 

aesthetic: fireflies, coffee with cinnamon, cigarettes in the backyard, the smell of bookstores, honey-flavoured chapstick, whispered secrets, the burn of firewhiskey in your chest, chipped nail polish, polaroids, lying on the roof during a thunderstorm, chapped lips, the summertime buzz of cicadas, flowers growing from cracks in the pavement, burnt chocolate chip cookies, jane austen novels, angry tears, happy tears, scribbled notes in the margins of old books, the red glow of a sunset, the feeling you get walking out from a cinema

CHILDHOOD

lily evans grew up in cokeworth, england, a “distinctly unmagical” town that is solely known for being the fourth-largest steel producer in england. the steel factory smokestacks in the west loom over the town and its winding alleyways, cinder blocks, and weeds growing out of pavement cracks.

lily’s childhood was that of mowed green lawns, challah bread, flintstones reruns in grainy black and white, and playing outside after dinner with petunia till the sky grew dark and the fireflies and mosquitoes came out and their parents would call them back home for bed.

her parents were both university professors who had met while getting their doctorates, her mother in german literature and her father in political science. they were both academic, intelligent people, and saw no reason not to treat their children as such. this meant lots of political discussion over the dining room table — at nine, little lily knew more about the government deficit than most of her schoolteachers probably did. petunia tended to tune out these debates, claiming disinterest, but lily loved them, listening in avidly even if she didn’t understand. as she got older she began to participate more and more, and often even brought up issues she was interested in.

but despite her brightness, contrary to popular belief, school hasn’t always come naturally to lily. she just could never quite bring herself to focus in school. some teachers labelled her a chatterbox, others simply labelled her trouble. really, it was more of a combination of a desire to befriend every creature she met with an inability to sit still.

because lily yearned for something more than life at the end of the cul-de-sac, yearned for some great adventure. she was a curious, fearless thing as a child, always leaping off of the swing and tugging tuney to go explore on the other side of the tracks, where their parents didn’t allow them to go.

so when she met a sallow-skinned boy from the wrong side of town, and he told her about magic, lily was enraptured by the thought. severus snape and the world he spoke of represented, to lily, the adventure she’d only ever dreamed of.

you all know the story — lily didn’t mean to, but she traded one best friend for another, and petunia was left behind, hurt and angry.

HOGWARTS

flash forward to eleven year old lily – small for her age, sitting on a stool in the great hall and listening to the hat debate between slytherin and gryffindor. after she ended up being sorted into gryffindor, and heard everything her housemates had to say about slytherin, she couldn’t help but wonder why the hat had thought it might suit her. ( like mother like son, am i right ? )

but lily is ambitious and proud, and ( especially as a first year ) overflowing with a desire to prove herself. but when it comes down to it, she has a softness under her skin that doesn’t suit the cold blood of a snake, and her instinct to protect those she loves vastly outweighs her self-preservation instinct.

and all of a sudden, she was doing better in school than she ever had before. hogwarts gave her eager, curious young mind the adventure and intrigue it had been craving. for the first time, she actually wanted to learn. the professors quickly became used to the wiry girl with messy auburn hair and bright eyes sitting in the front row of every class and peppering them with questions.

she became the gryffindor prefect last year, something she was both very excited and very apprehensive about. she’s very conscious about the influence she has on younger students, and she’s determined to prove that she was the right choice.

PERSONALITY

lily evans has two main motivators: sentiment and spite. on one hand, she’s romantic and nostalgic, clinging to her fairytale endings and her belief that everyone has at least a little bit of good inside of them. she’d like to believe that everything will turn out the way it should, and that all pain is temporary and useful.

but on the other hand, she has her temper. lord, this girl is stubborn and proud to her very core. she does not easily admit she’s wrong, and she’s often guided by her emotions rather than her reason. it’s not a great combination. she has been called tempestuous.

she tends to make snap judgements about people and stubbornly sticks to those snap judgements. it takes her a while before she admits that someone isn’t as bad as she had previously thought, or that someone is worse than she previously thought ( see: james potter, severus snape )

she doesn’t react well to personal criticism. she can be pretty defensive and even hypocritical sometimes.

but for all her faults ( and she has many — she’s stubborn, over-idealistic, proud, spiteful, at times selfish, hypocritical, quick-tempered, biased ) lily loves. and she hopes. with all her heart.

she cares so much about everything. she wears her emotions on her sleeves. she cries when she’s angry, and when she’s happy, and when she’s talking passionately about something she loves.

if you’re someone lily evans loves, you should count yourself lucky, because she will defend you to the death. and if you’re a person who lily evans hates, you should also count yourself lucky, because no matter how much she hates you, there’s a little part of her that believes in the good part of you.

sometimes she wishes she was tougher, less vulnerable. she wishes the word ‘mudblood’ wouldn’t sting each time it’s flung at her like a grenade ( but it does ), and she wishes she isn’t disappointed with every chanukah that goes by without a card from pertunia ( but she is ). but in true lily evans fashion, she stubbornly holds her chin up high and smiles and doesn’t let the world see her hurting.

HEADCANONS

she keeps trying to keep a diary but she always forgets to write in it, although she refuses to admit it’s a hopeless cause.

has a love for sweeping, dramatic classical music and movie soundtracks

lily comes from a progressive jewish family ! lily was never really super into it when she was little ( she enjoyed the chanukah dreidel games and the purim festivities, loved listening to the stories of esther and the exodus, but fidgeted all through hebrew school and hated the solemnity and fasting of yom kippur ) but she has a greater appreciation for the culture now she’s older. still doesn’t really observe kashrut though.

[ HOLOCAUST TW ] part of the reason she’s super super super against blood purity is bc of this and obvs also cause she’s a muggleborn ! her mother was eight when the second world war started, and as lily’s gotten older she’s heard more and more about her mother’s experience. and it chills her how much it reminds her of all this blood purity and voldemort stuff. [ END TW ]

petunia converts to catholicism for vernon when they get married and lily is so angry she cries for days, but then their mother sits down with her and talks about how everyone has their own faith and you can’t judge someone else for theirs

loves cats even though she’s allergic to them ( has a toad named gilbert, after gilbert blythe from anne of green gables )

has an irrational fear of seaweed – not the kind you eat, the kind that brushes up against your ankles when you’re swimming. also afraid of flying and airplanes

has an extensive collection of nail polish ( picks at her nail polish when she’s nervous )

a physically affectionate person – loves hugs, and cheek kisses, and platonic hand holding

loves old audrey hepburn movies 

she always loved when her parents read to her but she never had the attention span for actually sitting and reading books even though she loved them

[ DEATH, SMOKING TW ] she smokes …… she knows it’s bad but she started after her paternal grandfather died when she was 12 – they were going through his belongings and she found a half-used pack of his cigarettes and pocketed them. she just smoked them to try and catch his smell and feel closer to him but it developed into a habit and then an addiction ( although lily will insist she can stop anytime ) [ END TW ]

bisexual as FUCK thanks 4 coming to my ted talk

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear. 

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there. 

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself. 

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games. 

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...” 

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”  

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work." 

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church. 

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family. 

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee. 

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road. 

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat. 

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it. 

She was also deadly serious. 

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations. 

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep. 

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes. 

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair. 

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking. 

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either." 

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs. 

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides. 

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill. 

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?" 

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?" 

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk. 

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?" 

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone;  the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!". 

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that. 

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away," 

He regretted it as soon as it came out. 

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip. 

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything? 

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way. 

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too. 

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion. 

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from. 

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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[miitgaanar]

Misdirection

SERIES: Marvel SHIP: Cassie/Bucky Barnes and Cassie/Quentin Beck CHARACTERS: Cassie Theron, Bucky Barnes, Nick Fury, Quentin Beck, Maria Hill WORD COUNT: 5,137

Chapter 2

Ch. 1

***********************

For all that Cassie had seen in the last thirteen years, all of the death and trauma she’d lived through, you’d think that she would be fearless in the face of any and all obstacles.

But, as it turned out, that fearlessness didn’t extend to planes.

“How did you think we were gonna get there?” Bucky teased.  “Sailboat?”

“I don’t like those much either, thank you,” Cassie replied, staring up at the massive onyx cargo plane Fury had managed to commandeer for them.  The sunlight glinted brightly off of its aluminum paneling, forcing her to squint as she watched a group of engineers examine the engines and undercarriage.  It was nerve wracking.  “Flying over land is bad enough, but the ocean?  Do you know how often the wrecks from plane crashes just go completely missing?  And you likely wouldn’t die on impact.  You’d be trapped in there.  Clawing at the windows begging for air as the cabin fills with ruthless, icy water—”

“Okay! Okay, I get it, you hate the ocean,” Bucky quickly said, his hands outstretched as he sat down on one of the crates that had yet to be loaded into the cargo hold.  He was infuriatingly okay with all of this, especially considering he wanted nothing to do with this whole world saving business.

“I don’t hate the ocean,” Cassie grumbled. “I just don’t trust it to not swallow me whole when plummeting from forty thousand feet in the air. ”

“How did you even survive that trip we took across the Atlantic to get to Europe?”

“First of all, I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.  You were going whether I went with you or not.”  Bucky’s face softened a bit at that.  Those years they spent in hiding were dear to them both.  It had been a weirdly simpler time, all things considered.  “Second of all, I lived in perpetual fear that a rogue wave would capsize the ship before we made it to Spain.”

Bucky relieved himself of the black hoodie he’d come to favor, revealing a plain dark blue t-shirt underneath.  He folded the cloth into a vaguely square shaped cushion as he rested his head back against the larger crate behind him, his hands clasped neatly over his abdomen.  He had no right to be so at ease right now.  “What I’m gathering from all of this is that you don’t travel well, and clearly we don’t travel enough if I’m just realizing this now.”

“I travel fine.  I love traveling!  Just, y’know, not in planes.”

“If we take a cruise after this mess, what kind of manic behavior can I expect from you?”  Bucky’s smile was mocking.  If she wasn’t so sure he would catch her fist before it came anywhere near him, she’d punch that smug smile right off his face.

“If we have clear skies and calm waters?  I’ll be sunbathing on the deck and soaking in the pool.”

He raised his eyebrows.  “And if we don’t?”

Cassie glared at him, huffing angrily.  “I’ll be sleeping with my life vest on.”

Bucky hummed to himself.  “Not as bad as I was picturing.”

“And what were you picturing?”

“You setting up shop in a lifeboat while I go clubbing.”

Cassie laughed out loud.  “You?  Clubbing?  You’re like a hundred.”

“A hundred and seven, excuse you,” he corrected.  “We just celebrated two months ago.  Don’t be going senile on me already, babe.  I don’t know if I can take it.”

She looked up at the plane again, her hands on her hips.  “I take it back.  I can’t wait to fly in this thing.  I can just flip a switch and push you out the loading ramp.”

A deep, throaty chuckle escaped him, and she couldn’t help but smile in return.  He had always been rather good at distracting her from the various anxieties that plagued her mind.  It probably came from all of the demons that still haunted his.

“Are you two done?  Or can we get this show on the road?”  Fury strode over from where he had been overseeing the arduous process of getting the necessary tools and gadgets loaded onto the plane.  “You’re sitting on my seismograph, Barnes.”

“Yeah?  I gotta say it’s awfully comfy.”  Not even the barest hint of amusement crossed Fury’s face.  Bucky sighed and pushed himself to his feet, draping the hoodie over his shoulder as he came to stand next to her.  “What do you even need something like that for?”

“These things don’t exactly come on quietly,” Fury said.  “At least that’s what I gathered from the one we saw in Mexico.  Beck said it was better to bring it along just in case.”

Bucky glanced around the abandoned tarmac.  “Where is Houdini, anyway?”

Cassie wasn’t fast enough to stop the snort that escaped her, a hand flying up to her face with an audible smack to stifle her laughter.  It turned out that Quentin Beck was not just your run of the mill soldier on his Earth, but something akin to what Tony Stark had been.  The major difference lay in the fact that he could apparently use some kind of magic.

Bucky, for whatever reason, wasn’t convinced.

Fury pointedly ignored the quip.  “He should be here soon.  Said he wanted to make one last sweep of Manhattan to make sure he isn’t reading the signs wrong.”

“So he is coming with us?” Cassie asked.  She still had some questions for their newfound ally, the most pertinent centered around this other dimension he claimed to hail from.  And there was also the issue of his strange behavior around her.  He hadn’t even so much as waved at her when they went their separate ways to prepare.

She needed some time to attempt to wheedle it all out of him, and a nine hour flight in the hold of a cargo plane seemed like the perfect place for that.

A frown pulled at the corner of her mouth.  On second thought, best not think about how long the flight would be.

“As far as I know,”  Fury said.  “Don’t really know how keen he is on flying solo across the Atlantic.”

“Please,” Bucky pleaded half-heartedly, “don’t get her started.”

Cassie elbowed him in the gut, earning her a satisfying ‘oof’ from the larger man.  Though it may have just been for her benefit.

Fury shook his head before turning to wander back toward the rear of the plane, calling over his shoulder, “Be ready to board in thirty minutes.”

“Oh, joy,” she mumbled, her hand coming up to press the heel of her palm to her forehead.  The fact that she could already feel a headache blooming behind her eyes probably wasn’t a good sign.  And she’d forgotten to buy gum for the flight.  Great.

“So,” Bucky began, his gaze on the horizon.  It was a beautiful day, with puffy, white clouds perfectly complimenting the sky’s azure coloring.  Ideal flying weather.  And if Beck was everything he claimed himself to be, they would be able to see him coming from miles away.  “What do you really make of all of this?”

Cassie let out a long, deep breath through her nose, tucking a lock of her burgundy hair behind her ear.  A loaded question if she’d ever heard one.  “Well, monsters made of the four elements wouldn’t be the worst thing we’ve ever seen.”

He shook his head.  “That’s not what I meant.”  He looked down at her, his six-foot frame dwarfing her five-foot tall stature.  “‘Another Earth’?  Really?”

She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the horizon.  If she squinted, she could make out the vague outline of the Manhattan skyline in the far distance, the skyscrapers piercing through the light haze shrouding the city like freshly sharpened knives.  “It’s… definitely a lot.  But not outside the realm of possibility, I guess.”

“Am I the only one here that smells a rat?”  He sounded genuinely frustrated.  “Even Fury seems on board with this whole thing.”

That was the most bizarre part of all of this.  As much as she wanted to believe Beck’s story, something about it just didn’t feel right.  Like she was missing something.  She thought back to the way he spoke, his theatrical cadence.  Even his bearing seemed… rehearsed, as ridiculous as that sounded.  It was subtle, only just barely there, but enough to catch her attention, enough to make her wary.

And yet Fury believed him.  Trusted him, even.  And Fury didn’t trust anyone.

“There’s an odor for sure,” Cassie agreed.  “But I’m not sure of the source yet.”

The familiar, cool touch of his metal hand on her chin sent a delightful shiver up her spine as he angled her face toward him, forcing her green eyed gaze to meet his.  Beneath the light of the sun, his eyes were the color of snow-capped mountains.  

“We don’t have to do this,” he said softly.  Tenderly.  “Just say the word and I’ll tell them all to go fuck themselves, and we can go home.  Fury and the carnival sideshow can deal with whatever this is.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip.  He would do it, she knew he would, but not just for her.  He wanted peace, he wanted rest.  There were others that could step in now, as Beck’s presence proved.  There was no need for him, for either of them, to keep fighting, to continue to balance the fate of the world on their shoulders.  Bucky more than deserved to live out the rest of his days as a simple, normal man.  He had earned it decades ago, but now it was actually possible, within his grasp.

But she couldn’t rest.  Not while those nightmares continued to haunt her.  Not while plumes of ash floated through her mind like so many snowflakes.

And she hated herself for it.  Because he would never let her take on the world’s enemies alone.

Cassie attempted a smile, though she was sure it must’ve come across as more of a grimace.  Her hand came up to pat at his chest, the comforting feeling of his heartbeat beneath her fingers a balm on her frayed nerves.  “It’s fine,” she said, her voice mercifully steady.  “One last hoorah, huh?  Then we can go on that cruise to the Bahamas, and we can see how that arm of yours holds up when surrounded by nothing but sand.”

The briefest flicker of disappointment shone in those ice blue eyes, the only sign that he had so hoped she would want a way out of this as much as he did.  It was gone within the span of a single breath, replaced by a warm smile and loving gaze—but it was enough to make her heart drop into the very bowels of her stomach.

What a selfish, vile person she was.

“One last hoorah,” he said, his voice wistful.  How many times had he been told that this time would be the last time?  That he just needed to fight one more battle, and they would leave him be?  “I guess we better make it a doozy.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward, though the sour taste of bile coated her tongue.  “I guess so, soldier boy.”

A small huff of a laugh slipped through his lips, but it was cut short as his gaze was drawn to something in the distance.  He squinted, gently pushing Cassie behind him.

“What is it?”  She followed his line of sight, expecting to see—well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t Beck coming to a stop in midair before them, hovering at least ten feet off the ground.

With what looked like a mist filled glass orb where his head should be.

“Well, then,” Bucky said, his hands resting on his hips as he stared up at the interdimensional soldier, “son of a bitch can fly.”

——————————————————————

To Bucky’s credit, it took about thirty-two minutes into the flight for him to make a snide remark about Beck’s strange headgear.

Although, she wasn’t an entirely reliable source, as she spent pretty much every moment leading up to takeoff alternating between praying to whatever gods still deigned to listen and dissociating.  She might have missed a quip or two.

“So, did you buy it at that gift shop on forty-first and sixth?” Bucky asked nonchalantly, his brow furrowed in faux-curiosity.  What an asshole.  “I always thought they had the best souvenir snow globes.”

“Bucky,” Cassie admonished, kicking at his shin from where she still sat in one of the seats lining the plane’s hollowed out cargo hold.  They were far from the minimal comforts of even the cheapest accommodations on a commercial aircraft, the seats placed parallel to each other on either side of the hold and made of the same tightly stretched canvas you’d find on a military cot.  Not even the slightest bit of cushioning lay between the occupant and its cold, metal frame, the mercilessly straight backed seat forcing you to sit with your back pressed flush against the meager padding that acted as a buffer between you and the hard surface of the wall.  

The ability to recline and maybe exit the plane without a spinal injury wasn’t a top priority on a military grade transport, apparently.

“What?”  Bucky didn’t even pretend to be remotely pained by her vain attempt to silence him.  God, she hated him sometimes.  “It’s an honest question.”

“Barnes,” Fury cut in, that same bluish hued hologram of the planet hovering in the air before him, somewhat distorting the clear irritation upon his face.  Beck stood to his left, seemingly unperturbed by Bucky’s remark.  “We’re now down to a little more than eight hours to get something resembling a plan together.  Unless, of course, you’d prefer this be a ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ kind of mission?”

Bucky had the good sense to look properly chastised, straightening slightly as whatever mirth had been playing upon his features drained away into a blank mask of neutrality.  Served him right.

“No, sir,” he said, his voice low and his body stiff.  She had a feeling he was resisting the urge to stand at attention.  A habit he had yet to break.

“As I was saying,” Fury said, “there’s been a spike in electromagnetic activity in a town on the coast of Morocco.  I’d usually write it off as a sun flare or an anomaly in our satellites, but Mr. Beck assures me that this is a telltale sign of one of the Elementals preparing to attack.”

“They draw their energy from the earth,” Beck said, studying the hologram intensely.  “We were always able to predict where they would hit next by the electromagnetic pulses they emitted.  Sometimes seismic activity, as well.  It depended on which one we were facing.”

“And what are the signs pointing to now, Mr. Beck?” Cassie asked.

Beck was quiet, his gaze locked on that highlighted point at the north-western tip of Africa, his brow furrowed in concentration.  “Have there been any drastic changes in the weather, Director?”

Fury glanced over his shoulder toward where Maria Hill was standing a few feet behind him, her sharp features accentuated by the rather harsh fluorescent lighting.  “Satelites indicate a storm is brewing a few miles off the coast.  Morocco’s known to be pretty dry this time of year, but an errant storm wouldn’t be entirely out of character.”

Beck hummed, his eyes still focused on that single splotch of red in a sea of blue.  “Can you overlay the satellite imagery with this hologram?”

Fury nodded and Hill rapidly keyed something into the tablet she had resting in the crook of her arm.  A second later, the hologram changed from a flat, texture-less view of the planet to what she could only assume was a live view of Earth and the various storm cells that dotted its surface.  To the southwest of their destination sat a rather large cluster of clouds, the dark gray mass undulating slowly as it made its way toward land.

“There,” Beck said, pointing at that swirling bundle of clouds.  “Far too close to the source of those pulses for my taste.  That must be it.”

“And what exactly is ‘it,’ Beck?”  Bucky asked, only just the barest hint of edge to his words.

“The air Elemental,”  Beck said, his voice grave.  “Back on my world, it was known to take the form of cyclones, masking its presence within massive storm cells.  We usually didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

“It’s also hurricane season, y’know.”  Bucky locked eyes with Cassie briefly before he continued.  He was fishing for any inconsistencies in Beck’s story, inconsistencies she could hopefully exploit whenever she got a moment to talk to him.  “Sure, it’s a bit early for something this big, but climate change has been kind of a bitch lately, hasn’t it?”

Beck shook his head.  “The Elementals rely on such assumptions, Sergeant Barnes.  They know how to fool you.  They fooled the people on my Earth long enough to get a foothold, and we were never able to recover.”

Bucky just released a resigned sigh.  “So, what’s the plan?  Not exactly sure how we fight a storm.”

“Leave that to me,” Beck said, and Cassie couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the subtle change in his demeanor.  His voice was sharper, confidence bleeding into every word.  He stood just a bit straighter, his shoulders a solid frame upon which his golden armor and plum colored cape sat.  The very embodiment of a soldier ready for war.  “I have experience fighting these monsters.  Were it up to me, I’d have involved none of you in this.”

“But it’s not up to you,” Fury interjected.  “I am the authority on the safety of this planet, so all plans go through me first.”

Beck turned to face him, his hands held out in a placating gesture.  “Of course.  I meant no disrespect.  It’s just that I know them.  I’ve fought them countless times in countless battles.  I know how they work and what will bring them down.”

“And I know a suicide mission when I see one,” Fury snapped, staring down Beck with an intensity that would have sent any sane man running—but Beck’s shoulders simply slumped, his lips pressed together into a tight, thin line, and he was silent.

An emotion Cassie was afraid to place suddenly seized at her heart, her gaze drifting down to stare at the scuffed, gray floor.  Anything was better than having to see the stricken look that now sat in plain view upon Beck’s face.

A look she knew all too well.

“Barnes,” Hill spoke up, breaking the tense silence that had settled over them.  “We need you to go through our inventory and decide what you think you’re gonna need.”

Bucky snorted.  “I don’t think a grenade launcher’s gonna be much help against a cloud.”

Hill raised a single, finely manicured brow, her lips twisting into a wry smile.  “Would you rather go running into a mass of panicked and terrified people unarmed and wearing jeans and a t-shirt?”

Bucky’s rather self-assured expression crumpled into something akin to embarrassment, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he undoubtedly resisted another witty retort.  After a beat, and yet another resigned sigh, he strode forward to follow Hill toward the rear of the plane where numerous wooden crates lay strapped to the steel floor, mumbling under his breath all the while.

Fury regarded Beck with a steely-eyed gaze.  “Keep thinkin’ on that plan.  The clock’s ticking, and by the looks of that storm, we’re gonna be cutting it close.”

With that, Fury turned on his heel to follow Hill and Bucky, their voices echoing indistinctly against the bare, metal walls as they rummaged through crates of supplies and weaponry.

A hot pang of irritation rippled through Cassie as she watched him go.  As much as she knew that she was only there to ensure Bucky followed through with his agreement, it didn’t exactly lessen the sting of being so blatantly left out of all of the prep and planning.  

She let out a long, drawn out breath through her nose as she crossed her arms over her chest.  Whatever, she’d find a way to make herself useful.

She glanced sidelong at Beck, his expression willfully blank as he stared up at the hologram that continued in its slow rotation, his jaw clenched tight enough to show the strain in the muscles along his cheeks.

Well, she’d wanted time to talk.  She certainly had it now.

“Don’t mind him,” she began, allowing a small, amiable smile to grace her lips.  Beck started at the sound of her voice before he looked at her, as if he had forgotten she was there.  She fought against the urge to scream.  “He was never really the most cheerful guy around, but since he came back after being dust for five years, he’s been an especially giant dick.”

Beck emitted a soft, amused hmph, the slight quirk of his lips hardly visible from where she sat a mere few feet from him.  “I’ve fought under men like him before.  They mean well, but they’re never ready to relinquish even a modicum of their power to someone else, no matter how qualified that person may be to take command.”

Cassie leaned forward in her seat, her legs crossing at the knee as her chin came to rest in the palm of her hand.  The picture of interest.  There was no better way to get someone to talk—especially a man.  “So, you really were a soldier, then."

“Still am, as far as I can tell,” he said, gesturing to the space around them.  “The last of a lost battalion, it would seem.”

Her head tilted to the side a fraction.  He hadn’t been the only one fighting them, then.  “There were others?  Like you, I mean.”

He hesitated, taking a deep breath before he answered.  “Yes.  Many others, in fact.  My battalion specialized in arcane warfare.  It was the only thing that seemed to have any effect on the Elementals.”

“You all fought with magic?”  She didn’t have to fake her surprise.  She thought he’d have been the only one with such power.  “Does that mean you all had this whole—” She gestured up toward her face, her finger making a circular motion around her head, “—thing going on?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him, and Cassie couldn’t help the triumphant smirk that pulled at her mouth.  This was a far cry from the Quentin Beck she’d met in the warehouse.  “Those of the arcana, yes,” he replied, taking a step toward her, his hands clasped in front of him.  “A sign of our experience and rank.  A beacon for the infantry to flock to on the battlefield.”

“You weren’t part of the rank and file, then.”  Her smile turned cheeky, teasing.  Now she was getting somewhere.  “Should Bucky and I be standing at attention when you enter the room?”

“No, no.”  He shook his head, his eyes crinkling in amusement.  “Not at all.  Besides, I’d say Sergeant Barnes and I are on pretty equal footing.”

Her brow shot up.  “You’re a sergeant?”

He made an uncertain hand motion.  “Sergeant equivalent, I’d say.  I lead my own squad, but I still have plenty of people to answer to, if that’s what you mean.”

“Interesting,” she said, and she meant it.  “Did you lead a squad of magic users?  Or were you put in charge of a bunch of poor saps with guns?”

His face fell, and she knew she’d overstepped.  “We were all of the arcana, yes.”

She caught his use of the past tense, her playful mask slipping as a terrible dread settled into her blood.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft.  Perhaps even sad.  “I don’t know what happened to them.  I haven’t really had much time to think about it.  We were among the remnants of a final attempt at a counter offensive.  A last ditch effort to salvage what was left of the world.”

A yawning pit opened up in her chest, his expression uncomfortably familiar.  She thought of Bucky and the survivor’s guilt that still tore at his heart.  More than once she’d caught him staring at the various World War II memorials they’d come across in their time together, his face blank and his eyes hard.  He didn’t talk about that part of his life very often, but she knew it played more than a small role in whatever nightmares jolted him from his sleep.

She swallowed, suddenly hesitant to probe into Beck’s all too recent grief.  Bucky’s still ached after all this time, with decades to heal and forget.  

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, averting her gaze to the floor as a sudden wave of shame washed over her.  The gentle rumble of the plane’s engines filled the silence, the noise almost overtaking the hushed discussions coming from somewhere toward the back.  “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t be,” he said, and Cassie looked up to meet his gaze.  A faint fondness danced in his light eyes.  “I’m just surprised.  This is the first time anyone’s asked about me since I got here, not just what I know.”

That only made her shame deepen, her hands fidgeting where they lay in her lap.  She’d been so eager to pick apart his story, to find the source of that nagging suspicion that had vexed her since he walked through the doors of the warehouse, that she hadn’t even considered the road the led Beck here, the loss and horror he had experienced.

And he was grateful for it, for her probing questions and playful curiosity, because he thought her to be the first to see him as a person, not as an asset.

Just as Bucky had been all those years ago.

A terrible burning sensation crept its way up her throat.  She wanted to throw up.

“Still,” she managed to say, trying her best to hide how her hands trembled, “that was insensitive of me.  You’ve been through a lot.  The last thing you want to do is answer a million questions about your life back on your world.”

“It’s more a comfort than you might think,” he said, taking another step toward her.  He stood less than three strides from her, and she could see now that his face had softened considerably.  “I don’t want them to have died in obscurity.  I don’t want this all to have been for nothing.  Talking about them, no matter how vague the terms, makes me feel like they’re still here with me, even worlds away.”

If only she could relate to that.  Just the mere thought of Bucky, of all they had lost after that fateful day, had been enough to send her into a grief fueled rage.  She hadn’t wanted to remember, she hadn’t wanted to reminisce—she had wanted them all back.  Memories did little but make her ache for a future she couldn’t have.

She could only hope that Beck wouldn’t wind up like that, bitter and angry and filled with the desperate desire to join those he’d lost.

“We find comfort where we can,” she agreed, suddenly weary.

Beck smiled in return, though it was tight and strained.  It reminded her of the smile he had given her upon their first introduction, and the fondness she had seen in his eyes had dissipated into something heavier, something like… yearning.

And she found it made her distinctly uncomfortable.

“Uh, Mr. Beck?” she tried, a nervous smile playing upon her lips.  “Everything okay?”

He blinked a few times, as if he were fighting back tears.  “Yes, of course.  My apologies.  It’s just…” he trailed off, his voice thick.  He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost, a ghost he longed to be of this Earth once more.  “You remind me of someone, is all.”

It was like a punch to the chest, forcing all of the air out of her lungs in one swift exhale.  She knew that tone, had used it more times than she could count.

But she never realized how much it would hurt to be on the receiving end of it.

Cassie pushed herself to her feet, moving to close the distance between them, to offer some sort of comfort.  Anything at all.  Anything to push that agony back into the recesses of her mind where it belonged, to wipe away the ashes that clouded her vision.

“Mr. Beck—” she began, her hand outstretched.  A strange look crossed his face, one that made her hesitate.  What could she possibly say to him?  She thought of every platitude she’d ever heard, and how much she hated every single one of them.  They were a reflex, something to say to make yourself feel better, with no real consideration for the one in need of genuine compassion.

And there were no words that could fill the hole in his heart, just as there had been none to fill the hole in hers.

It was then, right as she opened her mouth to speak, that the telltale sound of combat boots upon the metal floor reached her ears.  She looked away from Beck, an overwhelming feeling of relief rushing through her as she saw Bucky approaching.  He was newly outfitted in loose, black cargo pants and a fitted black shirt that was conveniently missing the left sleeve, leaving the dark silver metal of his arm free to glint brightly beneath the fluorescent lighting.

And based on the tentative smile on his face, he could see something was wrong.

“Everything okay over here?” he asked, his right arm wrapping itself around her waist, pulling her close to his side.  He kept his voice light, conversational, but his grip on her told a different story.

“We’re fine,” she said, looking up at him with what she could only hope was a subtle, pleading expression.  I’ll tell you later, she thought.  Just let it go.  “Just talking.  You know how I am when I’m nervous.  I babble like an idiot.”

Bucky must’ve caught the hint, because he merely rolled his eyes.  “Better him than me.”

She forced a laugh as Beck wandered wordlessly over toward where Fury and Hill now stood around the hologram, joining them in their continued planning.  “Real charming, Barnes.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips, his hold on her tightening a fraction.

And out of the corner of her eye, she spied Beck watching them, his hand fidgeting with that simple gold band upon his ring finger.

[ktlsyrtis]

@incandescent-justice​ poked at me about what my thoughts were on Bernie and Serena’s MBTI personality types, and since she’s apparently dying of consumption I figured it was the least I could do. 😉 

These are my best guesses , but I’d love to hear what other people think! (Did I actually take the MBTI test as each character? Who can say?)

Bernie Wolfe: ISTP The Mechanic Quiet and reserved, interested in how and why things work. Excellent skills with mechanical things. Risk-takers who they live for the moment. Usually interested in and talented at extreme sports. Uncomplicated in their desires. Loyal to their peers and to their internal value systems, but not overly concerned with respecting laws and rules if they get in the way of getting something done. Detached and analytical, they excel at finding solutions to practical problems

ISTPs have an adventuresome spirit. They thrive on action, and are usually fearless. ISTPs are fiercely independent, needing to have the space to make their own decisions about their next step. They do not believe in or follow rules and regulations, as this would prohibit their ability to "do their own thing"

ISTPs are loyal to their causes and beliefs, and are firm believers that people should be treated with equity and fairness.  ISTPs are extremely loyal and faithful to their "brothers"

ISTPs are action-oriented people. They like to be up and about, doing things. They are not people to sit behind a desk all day and do long-range planning. Adaptable and spontaneous, they respond to what is immediately before them. They usually have strong technical skills, and can be effective technical leaders. They focus on details and practical things. They have an excellent sense of expediency and grasp of the details which enables them to make quick, effective decisions

ISTPs are excellent in a crisis situations. They are usually patient individuals, although they may be prone to occasional emotional outbursts due to their inattention to their own feelings

ISTPs are optimistic, full of good cheer, loyal to their equals, uncomplicated in their desires, generous, trusting and receptive people who want no part in confining commitments

Strengths:

Good listeners

Usually self-confident

Generally optimistic and fun to be with

Practical and realistic, they handle daily concerns

Are not threatened by conflict or criticism

Able to leave a relationship with relative ease once it is over

Likely to respect other's needs for space and privacy

Weaknesses:

Living entirely in the present, they have difficulty with long-term commitments

Not naturally good at expressing feelings and emotions

Not tuned in to what others are feeling, they may be insensitive at times

Tendency to be overly private and hold back part of themselves

Need a lot of personal space, which they don't like to have invaded

They thrive on action and excitement

Serena Campbell: ENFJ The Giver Popular and sensitive, with outstanding people skills. Externally focused, with real concern for how others think and feel. Usually dislike being alone. They see everything from the human angle, and dislike impersonal analysis. Very effective at managing people issues, and leading group discussions. Interested in serving others, and probably place the needs of others over their own needs

ENFJs are people-focused individuals. They live in the world of people possibilities. More so than any other type, they have excellent people skills. They understand and care about people, and have a special talent for bringing out the best in others. ENFJ's main interest in life is giving love, support, and a good time to other people. They are focused on understanding, supporting, and encouraging others. They make things happen for people, and get their best personal satisfaction from this

Because ENFJ's people skills are so extraordinary, they have the ability to make people do exactly what they want them to do. They get under people's skins and get the reactions that they are seeking. ENFJ's motives are usually unselfish, but ENFJs who have developed less than ideally have been known to use their power over people to manipulate them

ENFJ's are so externally focused that it's especially important for them to spend time alone. This can be difficult for some ENFJs, because they have the tendency to be hard on themselves and turn to dark thoughts when alone. Consequently, ENFJs might avoid being alone, and fill their lives with activities involving other people. ENFJs tend to define their life's direction and priorities according to other people's needs, and may not be aware of their own needs. It's natural to their personality type that they will tend to place other people's needs above their own, but they need to stay aware of their own needs so that they don't sacrifice themselves in their drive to help others

The ENFJ may feel quite lonely even when surrounded by people. This feeling of aloneness may be exacerbated by the tendency to not reveal their true selves

ENFJs like for things to be well-organized, and will work hard at maintaining structure and resolving ambiguity. They have a tendency to be fussy, especially with their home environments

In the work place, ENFJs do well in positions where they deal with people. They are naturals for the social committee. Their uncanny ability to understand people and say just what needs to be said to make them happy makes them naturals for counseling. They enjoy being the center of attention, and do very well in situations where they can inspire and lead others, such as teaching

ENFJs have a strong need for close, intimate relationships

An ENFJ who has not developed their Feeling side may have difficulty making good decisions, and may rely heavily on other people in decision-making processes. If they have not developed their Intuition, they may not be able to see possibilities, and will judge things too quickly based on established value systems or social rules, without really understanding the current situation. An ENFJ who has not found their place in the world is likely to be extremely sensitive to criticism, and to have the tendency to worry excessively and feel guilty. They are also likely to be very manipulative and controlling with others

In general, ENFJs are charming, warm, gracious, creative and diverse individuals with richly developed insights into what makes other people tick. This special ability to see growth potential in others combined with a genuine drive to help people makes the ENFJ a truly valued individual. As giving and caring as the ENFJ is, they need to remember to value their own needs as well as the needs of others

Strengths:

Good verbal communication skills

Very perceptive about people's thoughts and motives

Motivational, inspirational; bring out the best in others

Warmly affectionate and affirming

Fun to be with - lively sense of humor, dramatic, energetic, optimistic

Able to "move on" after a love relationship has failed (although they blame themselves)

Strive for "win-win" situations

Driven to meet other's needs

Weaknesses:

Tendency to be smothering and over-protective

Tendency to be controlling and/or manipulative

Don't pay enough attention to their own needs

Tend to be critical of opinions and attitudes which don't match their own

Extremely sensitive to conflict, with a tendency to sweep things under the rug as an avoidance tactic

Tendency to blame themselves when things go wrong, and not give themselves credit when things go right

Their sharply defined value systems make them unbending in some areas

ENFJ and ISTP Compatibility

One important thing to keep in mind is that the two communicate very differently. ENFJs are very verbal and expressive about their feelings while ISTPs feel like their partners should “just know” they are loved. ISTPs would rather show their feelings through actions, such as small gifts and physical affection.

Both the ENFJ and the ISTP never discuss their problems. ENFJs avoid direct confrontations for the sake of the relationship while ISTPs simply never discuss how they feel about their relationships with anyone, including their partners. This lack of communication may make the relationship less satisfying for both. The good thing is that both don’t give up on their relationship easily. The ISTP won’t dump his or her partner unless there are very serious reasons to do so, and the ENFJ won’t break up with someone who did nothing wrong

[shelivesinthewoods]

I am here

Alright, my first D&D fic because sincerely, I think I have a problem. Mr. Sinclaire x MC (Isabel Fairfield)

Word count is approximately 1750

Rating: there be no smut or language here. G.

I wrote this through my “notes” feature on my phone so I apologize for any formatting errors or grammatical... things. I also want to preface that I’ve never written this era, so I apologize if language or what not is awful. Let me know what you think...

——————

London was lovely. The Earl of Edgewater’s home even better. Time with her friend ; time flirting with her friends step brother. Briar has loved every moment of her time as Isabel’s ladies maid. She had experienced so many new things. She got to enjoy Isabel’s new wardrobe, even occasionally getting to try on her fine new dresses. Of course, that was with her best friends approval. They had, after all, only been sharing clothes since they were in diapers. They had always shared, well, everything. It was this, that alarmed her when, on this evening she went up to help Isabel to prepare for dinner and her friend was gone.

There was a note on her bed- Isabel’s scrawling hand writing saying she would be back shortly, to please not alert Mr. Marlcaster or Miss Sutton. Briar knew Isabel though... ever since she was a little girl, she’d had a wanderers heart. While they were in Grovershire, of course, it was safer for her to roam. She knew the safest routes home, knew the area as well as the back of her hand. London; well; London, she did not. She should not have left with out an escort. There were unscrupulous people in a city this big, who would be overly happy to take advantage of a lady like Isabel.

Don’t ask or alert Mr. Marlcaster or Miss Sutton... What was she supposed to do? What was she going to do if Isabel got lost?! She could ask Mr. Harper or Miss Parsons to help locate her, but neither of them were anymore familiar with the city than she was. Mr. Marlcaster was, but Isabel didn’t want him involved.... She thought a moment, then rushed down to let Mr. Harper know she was stepping out a moment, in case she were needed (unlikely, but not unheard of, since Isabel was out.

Briar hurried down several rows of townhouses until things began to look familiar. She and Isabel had taken a stroll and she had pointed out the townhouse where she had attended her first dinner party. He would know the city. She could tell him the normal places she would go; he could make suggestions... he wouldn’t report it directly to the Countess. She knocked on the door, acutely aware that his own servants were unlikely to allow her access to him. She wrung her hands after she knocked again, a little more desperately this time, waited a moment before she stepped back down the stairs, fully prepared to go find Isabel on her own. She honestly didn’t hear the door open, until a deep voice softly said, “Miss Daly?”

Dropping into a curtsy and lowering her head, she said, “ I am so terribly sorry to bother you Mr. Sinclaire.” She stood again, a little afraid to be addressing the gentry man. Not all of them were kind, whereas even those who were did not always extend the same courtesy to those “below” them. Isabel spoke frequently of the man before her; and she seemed convinced of his kindness- that he was a good man. Briar would soon see, now, wouldn’t she?

“Miss Daly, is everything quite alright?” He looked far more casual than any of the other times she had happened to see him, just in his tan undershirt and trousers.

“Mr. Sinclaire, it’s Isabel—“ she cut off, immediately correcting herself, “Lady Isabel.” She had never fully understood the term about the color draining from someone’s face until that instant. He looked stricken as she continued, “I- I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing—she has always been her own person and—“

“Miss Daly, where is Lady Isabel?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ernest Sinclaire had always prided himself on not being prone to flights of fancy or being susceptible to panic. In fact, when he first saw Miss Daly, he half expected that Lady Isabel may be right behind her or playing some sort of trick on him— until he saw the state that her lady’s maid was in. The state her friend was in. The handful of times he’s seen Miss Daly, she seemed happy; carefree. This was unnerving. It took her a moment to compose herself- she took a deep breath, “I don’t know!!” It came out in a rush and as though she was trying very hard not to sob. “Back at home, in Grovershire, Isabel wandered. It was safe. She knew that. It isn’t here. She does not know what is safe here... I don’t know the city; the only ones I know who may are Mr. Marlcaster and maybe Miss Sutton, but neither of them.... She asked me not to involve them. She doesn’t completely trust them. I simply cannot stand the idea of harm coming to her.”

Clearly, that made two of them. He had a grasp of the layout of the city area closest to them. He couldn’t imagine that she would have wandered too far. She was a little fearless, but not stupid. She would never go so far, right? “Miss Daly, you should return to your townhouse- in case she has already returned for the evening. I will grab my jacket and sweep the area. Lady Isabel is no fool, even if she has not yet returned, I imagine she will not be far.” Miss Daly nodded once, his words soothing her fears slightly, “Is she prone to visit parks? Gardens? Storefronts?”

“Parks and gardens, probably. When she ran in Grovershire, it was often to be alone. To think— but she’s been different here. Distracted, a little.”

So, it would be akin to finding a needle in a haystack. ‘Perfect.’ What he told her, however, was, “Please return home. I will find her, I will bring her home.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclaire!” With that, away toward the townhouse she went. With that, *he* was being sent on a wild goose chase through London. The absolute worst part was, his only complaint was fear for her well-being. Honestly, in his own mind, he’d search for her all night if he needed to. He could not tolerate the thought of something.. of anything, happening.

He returned to his study to grab his discarded jacket which he put back on and headed to the streets. How- How had he let this woman get under his skin? So far under his skin. She was beautiful and bold- almost more than even her current station as heiress could grant her. Challenging- at every turn, when their gazes met, it was a hard fought battle on who would look away first. Her garden party had started it, this infatuation. His dinner party had convinced him he was doomed. Not even the lovely in her own right, Miss Holloway had been able to draw his attention- and her poisonous words towards Lady Isabel had not had the effect she’d been hoping for. He had enough respect for the earl and for the Lady of Edgewater herself to allow it.

Through one of the parks he wandered, through two of the public gardens, through to the heart of the city... while he had been feigning interest in Miss Holloway’s complements and discussion at his dinner; if he were truthful, he had paid far more interest to the conversation Isabel had been having with Duke Richards. She had told him her mother had been an opera singer— maybe—

There. She sat on a bench across the street from the Opera St. James. Her gaze was upward, on the gas lighted marquee sign. Her expression— normally so lively and joyous— was curiously blank. No... it was solemn. He studied her, one of the few times he was able to without her doing the same. She was so stunning. Every time he saw her, it was like opening his eyes anew. She lowered her head a bit, one bare hand lifted to brush her cheek. A tear. Rarely, she gave glimpses of her grief. Only, with him, in their conversation during his dinner party when she had asked about his wife. He hadn’t considered it but he’d had years to grieve the woman his heart had no longer favored for the majority of the marriage. She’d had weeks. Weeks in which she had been thrust into a completely different life and had barely batted an eye. So strong.

“Is this where she sang? Your mother, I mean?” He asked it, not even aware he was going to. What was it that she had done to him?

Isabel startled, a hand coming to her chest, but upon seeing hearing his voice and seeing him, it was almost as though a shroud was lifted and the melancholy was, while not entire dispelled, vastly improved. She smiled at him, “It is.” She paused for a moment, “I do not recall mentioning that she was a singer to you.” She tilted her head to one side, her dark curls falling over her shoulder.

He absently rubbed the back of his neck, “I may have overheard you speaking of it to Duke Richards.”

“You were eavesdropping on the Duke and I?” She feigned shock.

“Clearly I couldn’t rely on Mr. Marlcaster to intervene should the Duke do anything... untoward. I believe my attention was where it needed to be.” He could feel himself blushing, heat creeping up his neck.

“Mr. Marlcaster is... trying. I cannot imagine being raised by the Countess was easy. In particular when you’re clearly not the favored child. I’ve only endured a few weeks and have found it quite trying. A lifetime?”

“You are likely more kind than he deserves.”

“I’ve been given a chance at a new life. I think that opportunity should include kindness for those willing to try. He has many reasons to hate me. I only hope to prove myself by worthy of it.”

He walked closer as she spoke and sat on the bench beside her. Near enough he could touch her, far enough to be considered appropriate. “You know, you gave Miss Daly quite a fright.”

Her mouth dropped into an o of surprise, “Briar came to you?” She looked slyly at him from the corner of her eyes, “You were worried?” She put her hand on the bench between them.

He looked at it for a moment, Small, delicate, bare. A question. An invitation. He looked at her, met her gaze, not willing to look away as he twined his fingers with hers, squeezing them softly, “ I am here, aren’t I?”

[kalle-and-lita]

By Fates Design

Chapter4 Konrad Curze/OC

WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence and other sensitive subjects! This Fic has no affiliation with any RP threads the Mun has active. This is simply a different interpretation on the muse.

Enjoy!

P.S.: Feed back would also be super appreciated, as this is my first chapter with Curze in it.

His was the highest perch in all of Nostramo. From the spire he could look out onto the endless horizon of his planet and see all. Night Haunter often found himself up here when there was nothing else to do; no Barons to tolerate, nor lawbreakers to punish. Up here, above the constant hum of the foundries and the buzz of chatter in the streets, he was free to gather his thoughts in peace.

A month and  half since the day he had silenced the screams of damnded and despaired, crumbling under the heel of the corrupt barons. A month and a half of a new order, stomping down rebellion and reshaping his planet. A month and a half in his new home, as the palace of Nostramo Prime was his by his right as king.

A month and a half of very new....experiences.

The staff feared him, as many did and should. Always when he entered the room they skirted around him like prey watching the hunter, fleeing as soon as they were able. If they couldn't escape they made every effort to bend over backwards to please him. As if their supplicance would save them if he ever found any wrong doing on their part.

Fools and peons, the lot of them.

Well, all but one.

His new consul, oh yes Night Haunter liked the man. Quite fearless that one, unafraid to look his king in the eyes and stand in the face of his fury. Competent too, a trait hard to find in the palace. He had declined the job at first; what he said?

I bark at servants for a living...

The thought made the Night Haunter chuckle, well now he barked at Barons too.

Ever so carefully, each step as precise as the last one, he eased out onto the overhanging ledge above palace. One wrong move and he'd plummet to the ground below; Night Haunter had fallen from great heights and survived before, but never one such as this. He wasn't interested in testing out his luck, and his own physical limitations.

So it was a good thing he never miscalculated.

He settled, crouching low as he watched the streets, eyes easily watching the blurring movement of the transports. A heavy wind gusted by, bring down a heavy torrent of rain. Three things were a constant on Nostramo, in one form or another. The rain, the smog, and the screaming. The former he had silenced in the here and now, but always in his head he could hear it from the far distant future.

Death, destruction, and chaos he couldn't even begin to comprehend. His visions always took their toll on him, aching bodily and mind. Nearly always with a victim nearby, for he had no control when they came. Always violent, and always sudden.

Always maddening.

~~

He watched as she reached up to a shelf above her head, a careful hand replacing the book he had so carelessly tossed to the side. Night Haunter eased a foot onto the loose floorboard and pressed, a loud creak that caused her to swing her head round. He snickered as her dark eyes searched for the source, but he knew he was too well hidden for her to see.

He enjoyed this game, she was perceptive when he allowed himself to be heard. This was the maid his consul had assigned to maintain the Eastern Wings, the Night Haunters rooms. He had to give credit where it was due, she was well trained in her job.

This maid entered the library the same time every day, never straying from her precise schedule. She walked among the shelves carefully, quietly. Most servants he had observed would sing or hum mindless tunes to pass time.

Never this one though.

He wondered if it had to do with the attack he had witnessed the night of his ascension.

Oh yes, he recognized this one. He had caught the tail end of the event, watching from the rafters as they carved out her flesh, and beat her until she was nothing but broken bones and bruises.

In all honesty, Night Haunter was certain she'd died. Very few survived beatings such as that, but he was all too surprised to find her barely alive days later. His consul was often found at her side, much to his irritation.

Yet soon this one faded from his mind. He was far too busy reigning in his planet to think of her, even his consul had lessened his visits.

Until the day she came sweeping into the library. This one was developing a habit of surprising him, though it did not escape his notice that she did not come back unscathed. Her face, when the long curtain of dark hair allowed him to see, was covered in an amalgamation of scar tissue. Her gait was slow, nearly labored as if she was in pain. She even had little mobility in her left arm.

Yet she survived.

He wondered what would have happened if he had been there sooner. He felt no regret at her current state, yet even he knew her life could have been very different otherwise. Such thoughts would do him no good, so he shook them from his mind.

For now he was content in his game, only stopping when she finished her chores and moved on to her next task.

~~

Night Haunter had very little patience to begin with, and he loathed when anyone tried to test it. Not that it was his consul's fault, Rylen if he was correct in the man's name, was just as irritated as he, if not a bit more confused. Yet, as much as he was amused by the man's lack of fearlessness in the face of his king, Night Haunter found it less amusing when he was trying to get results.

Missing reports, shortened quotas, files misplaced. All the work of Barons trying to hoard their funds and defy his will. When he demanded answers the Night Haunter received an irritated retort,

'I can't make this appear out of thin air, highness.'

Neither of them had any clue where to start, or who to even ask for results. They couldn't even find the former master of the palace's files, all lazily thrown to the side to further his riches. Night Haunter was reaching the end of his patience, pacing back and forth across a short swath of the ball room floor.

Then, a short and soft noise from their right. Both turned to find the maid, nervously standing near the door, a data pad in her hand.

"Lita?"

Rylen moved to step forward, only pausing with a sidelong glance at his king. Night Haunter did nothing, allowing the maid to approach with caution. With nary a word she held out the data pad for Rylen to take. The king watched their exchange. Rylen cared for her as if she was his own child, which begged the question was she?

And how could the Night Haunter use this to his advantage?

"Baron Wilhelm's missing quota reports." The consul explained handing the data pad over. The kings movement was swift, reaching the maids side in the blink of an eye. She whimpered as he gripped her arm, not tight enough to break bone, but enough to keep her from escaping.

"Where did you find these?"

Her reaction was immediate. Eyes began to roll wildly with panic, her fear nearly palpable as her chest heaved. Then, another hand. Rylen was there in the next instant and the Night Haunter allowed the man to wrest the maid free. There was a fire in his eyes as he pushed her back and turned face to face with the king.

The meaning was clear.

Don't touch her, or go through me first.

Night Haunter nearly laughed; he was willing to die for her. Now that was useful. He let this little act of defiance slide, he was more interested in the reaction anyway, and watched as Rylen turned to his daughter.

"Where did you find these?" he asked softly, not going any nearer than she allowed. Her hands began to move, this too Night Haunter noticed. She was speaking with her hands, a language that the consul understood.

"She says that she'd been filing away all of Wilhelm's old reports."

Good, that was something that could be solved in the here and now. "Continue this," he ordered coarsely, "and have a report ready for me when it's done." He turned away as Rylen dismissed her. Now it was time to deal with the other Barons and their negligence, perhaps an example to remind them who exactly they were dealing with.

~~

His chest and throat burned from his screaming. There was blood in his mouth, and he found he had nearly bitten his tongue off. He spat out the pool, sticky and bitterly sweet, trying to focus on the patterns on the throne room floor. His claws had marred much of the designs, results of the violent fits that came with his visions.

Why her?

Night Haunter did not believe in coincidences. He had tried to change the future once before, but no matter what he did or tried, everything seemed to be by some unknown fate's design.

Why her?

He had seen the maid's death. Broken and dying from a great fall. He recalled the moments before the violent attack. A soft knock on the throne room door, a command to enter. She slipped through quietly, data pad in hand, only to freeze in terror as the vision took him.

She fled, a wise decision on her part, yet here she was again. She knelt on the floor with him, way out of his reach, with a platter in her lap. She was casting him furtive glances every so often, trying to gauge his state.

Why her?!

"You're going to die..." he hissed suddenly, nails digging into the floor once again but in irritation this time. A pensive look passed over her face, and this time she gripped the platter to inch ever so slowly towards him. Not enough for him to easily grasp out and reach her, but close enough to easily pass the platter itself to him with a gentle slide across the floor.

A hot drink and a data pad.

Then she made a gesture, its meaning unknown to him. Yet, before he could demand an answer she bowed her head and quickly left him.

It took a while for him to gather his wits, visions often left him drained. The drink remained untouched, but the data pad he took. Her report on the Barons files, all organized and ready to use. Without another thought he went to find his consul. He was in the kitchen, taking his evening meal when the Night Haunter slipped out from the shadows. Rylen jumped as the data pad hit the table with a loud thud, gazing at him with a look of shock and mild anger. He said nothing as he took the slate and began to look it over, with the Night Haunter pacing.

"What does this mean?" he demanded suddenly, repeating the gesture the maid had given him. Confusion crossed the consul's face,

"How do you--"

"Your daughter speaks to you with her hands," The Night Haunter snapped, "What does this mean?"

A moment of silence before he had his answer.

We all do.