#and do horrible things to them to try to steal their land before they retaliate and push them out and activate planetary defense systems

[ruthlesslistener]

mildly frustrated with feeling like my Seawalker species is somehow not 'advanced enough' to count as a modern-level alien civilization because they do not have clothes or aboveground complex cities or tech (outside of medical use and emergency-only weaponry) but also like. how the fuck am i supposed to put clothes on a 9-foot-at-the-shoulder-sometimes-12 amphibious alien reptile with 8 limbs that lives in a climate that is on average 95 degrees fahrenheit at 100% humidity that spends an equal amount of time at sea and on land. and why the fuck would they need complex tools when two sets of those limbs are highly dexterous, they have tusks that are both specialized weapons and excellent tools for holding things when the hands are occupied or puncturing/carving objects, and they are the apex predators on land and near-apex predators in the sea. they dont fucking need clothes or complex tools outside of medical use they have everything required for comfortable living built in

[springvaletales]

((Session 24 is wrapped!!))

Bagelby’s Player, to his off-screen fiance: “Why did you just kick the whole garbage can over?”

Me: “DISRESPECT YOUR SURROUNDINGS!”

We left off mid-combat against the spider mutant’s second form, surrounded by a raging inferno that Ena had accidentally started before the party became trapped.

“You whip it. You whip it real good.”

“Comparative to what it’s just done to itself, maybe your pain just doesn’t measure up.”

“…yikes! That’s it for me.”

Me: “Hey do you guys like the body horror or is it going to far? I can’t exactly do research or else I’ll never sleep again.”

My Players:

Bagelby’s Player drew a horrible sketch of the spider mutant and I both hate it and love it so much at the same time.

The spider crushed Asahi between its two halves for 13 damage as it tried to Bite her. Thiori immediately chopped off two of legs in retaliation.

Bagelby, standing as far back from the battle as he can because No Thanks: “HEY ENA! THERE’S A HARD THING THAT THE SPIDER HATES YOU TOUCHING YOU SHOULD HIT IT PROBABLY.”

He then promptly Hid for the rest of the turn.

Everyone except Ena (spider monster included) took one point of fire damage at the end of the round. It is the first point of non-self-inflicted damage Thiori has taken all campaign.

Party debate topic: Do spiders have toes?”

“All food that falls from the sky is kosher.”

“The amount of times meat has rained from the sky is more than one, and that’s a little alarming.”

August successfully finished slicing the spider in half….but it’s not dead yet.

Now we have TWO mutant spider monsters!

Thiori promptly destroyed one half of the spider mutant by taking it from 80hp to 8hp in one turn.

Bagelby, after watching the spider mutant survive bisection and Thiori: “I would like to find the exit.”

Bagelby then killed the boss by stealing the Amulet of Dry Bones that was keep it it going right out from its gross, drippy torso.

Without the amulet to keep it moving, the spider mutant collapsed, and the party all took turns stabbing the halves to make sure they were dead.

Bagelby’s Player: “May I put the object in my slime pouch?”

Me: “You may put the object in your slime pouch.”

Thiori’s Player: “You’re WHAT-“

The party tried to re-enter the holding cells, but found the door mysteriously stuck; Asahi and August borrowed Thiori’s portable battering ram to try and break its down.

They successfully forced the door open, only to both slip and eat it on the ice that had been holding it shut.

A little half-dragon civilian started to cry after they fell, and tearfully cried. “I’m sorry! I panicked!”

Ena immediately picked up this little girl and calmed her right down. All those years with dozens of younger siblings are good for something.

Another civilian - a one-armed Orc - confronted the party for starting a raging fire that’s relatively contained within the walls of a petrified room but nonetheless city-sized.

Thiori rolled an insight check on the man, and failed it immediately.

“You trust this man with every fiber of your being.”

New NPCs:

Udara, a half-dragon with icy heritage who gets frightened easily.

Socket, a tiny Warforged love-child of Fresh Cut Grass and WALL-E with flat tires and separation anxiety.

Miraiah, Udara’s human mother who’s been frantically looking for her missing daughter for two months.

The Orc - Zhul Iron-Sunderer, former Commander of the city guard before he was betrayed by Drokk - led the party and rescued civilians to a hidden staircase in the walls of the city.

These massive stairs were once the go-to way for people to travel between the levels of the city, before the elevator chains were installed. They were closed off once the elevators began running, but the doors leading to them were only ever locked.

After descending the dusty stairs in the dark for a while, the party and crew came to the next landing, and Bagelby tried to pick the lock on the door.

He gave Maritza a wonderful pep-talk, and she transformed into an entire lock picking set to help him crack open the door.

Proud of his tiny pocket Mimic, Bagelby threw open the door to find the city on fire, and in absolute chaos. Seems like Amalie’s distraction got a liiiitle out of hand.

Bagelby: “Maybe this time we don’t have to start the coup?”

One of Amalie’s guard friends led the party through the chaos and back to the Tailwind Inn, where many other civilians were trying to hide from the chaos of clashing guard factions outside.

Asahi, mournfully, upon finding out that Amalie’s distraction had turned into a coup: “We never called dibs…!”

The party spent some time settling down and talking with the little Warforged, whose name is Socket; he was captured trying to sneak into the prison to find out what had happened to his creator after hearing one of the guards up there mention them by name.

Bagelby has adopted Socket.

Ena was sad to have to give up Udara, because she wants an orphan of her own to adopt. However, she’s not yet to the point where she’ll take one from a living parent that’s legitimately overjoyed to see them.

Socket: “Do you think this one’s creator did not intend to return?”

Socket’s voice is yet again a voice I know I will come to regret but the party already loves him so much.

Socket: “It is difficult to go fast when your tires are flat.”

We took a snack/potty break, and in the downtime, everybody leveled up.

August repaired Socket’s wheels (and even made him a spare).

With the rest of the party taking a short rest, Ena wandered off to find a quiet corner, and call her father with an update.

Ena: “I did not think about how I was going to handle the part where my brother doesn’t remember my existence so I’m going to dissociate.”

“You get the distinct impression of floating question marks.”

Me, at Thiori: “You’re attempting to meditate, but you’re getting used as a jungle gym.”

Zhul’s relationship with Dragoon is a lot more complicated but as far as the party’s guessed he’s Dragoon’s dad (yes), and figuring out that he was dead was a major shock.

After more talking with Zhul and Amalie, the party began trying to formulate a plan going forward. They have a couple options: Either break into the rookery and try to find SnowWing, who flew off during the chaos that interrupted Dragoon’s funeral, or go straight for the Mayor’s manor, where Commander Drokk is holed up, to try and cut off this invasion at its local head.

Thiori has given up meditating, and has started playing ‘Kaiju’ with the children. He is putting on his best ‘man-in-a-rubber-monster-suit’ impression for them.

“Riding double” is a euphemism within Blackstone City for partaking in certain pleasures on griffon-back. The party all but forced Amalie to admit to such in front of Zhul.

New fauna: Brown-Spotted Pineback slugs.

August and Asahi offer Commander Zhul one of Thiori’s Cookies of Healing, and Bagelby slapped on one of his slugs for added taste.

Commander Zhul enjoys slugs, to Amalie, August, and Asahi’s horror. He and Bagelby had a wonderful conversation about the different varieties of slugs and how they taste.

“I’d like to roll to forget the slime pocket.”

After discovering a finger bone inside the amulet, Bagelby decided that it was an important thing that needed to get back to Velenna in one piece, so he fed it to Maritza.

Maritza does not like the taste of spider goo, but she loves Bagelby, so she ate it anyway.

Ena’s player keeps insisting that they should take these amulets and throw them at Michael while shouting “I THINK WE FOUND SOMETHING OF YOURS!”

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Something more infinite (George Weasley x reader) ch 2.

Chapter 2. I’m not very strong but I’ll f*** you up if you mess with my plans again. 

Chapters: 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 (final) |

Word count: 2k. 

Warnings: none. 

You and George had been locked in a never-ceasing prank war since your first encounter in your third year. It had started out as a typical prank war, you both just trying to get as many hits on each other as possible. Several times you’d landed each other in the hospital wing (a couple of times you’d both ended up staying the night there when things had gotten a little too out of hand) but then you’d had a revelation. What made you tick in the first place hadn’t been that George had been pranking people, it was that he’d stolen your traps, dismantling them, leaving you frustrated as you’d returned to check on them only to find them in disarray. So when you returned to your fourth year, you took on a new strategy: Spy on the twins, find the traps they’d set up for you, and then wait for them to leave before dismantling them and stealing their stuff. This would have been the perfect plan if the gits would stop somehow finding you everywhere. You’d deterred away from pranks all together when they began to show up around corners, ready to retaliate with whatever products they’d bought at the previous Hogsmeade trip. You had no idea how but soon enough you couldn’t go anywhere without George Weasley finding you. It seemed he had taken a new strategy too; he’d retired from pranks and instead focused on pissing you off, which he did with ease, and almost exceedingly well by just existing near you, shooting belittling comments your way.

“Morning, Y/n,” You hear just a little too close to your ears making you wince, 

“Go away, Weasley,” you say, electing to focus on the time table in front of you, 

“What’s wrong? Can’t I sit next to you?” he says, sitting down, 

“No, You can’t.” your eyes don’t leave the timetable, you stare at the word “Divination”, 

“Shame, last time I checked you didn’t own this bench, so I think that means that I technically can sit here,” George grabs a crumpet and begins to butter it, your lips form a thin line on your face, 

“what?” George must have noticed the peeved expression you’re wearing, “I’m not even saying anything, I’m just sitting here!” 

“Well, you sure make a lot of noise for someone who’s saying nothing,” you say, 

“Aww, Y/n, always the charmer,” he says and ruffles your hair,

*** 

 You’d been at your wits end when he surprised you while you were sneaking down to the kitchens, 

“What’re you up to-OUGH!” He hadn’t gotten any further before your fist decked him, reacting out of surprise, knocking him backwards, the parchment he’d been holding flying out his hand and landing a little further down the hallway, you moved towards it instinctively, passing George by as he swore, 

“Honestly...mad...one day... going to get me killed -Hey!” He noticed you crouching down to pick up the parchment, “Hey, don’t touch that!” he scrambled to get up and take it from you but by the time he tried to grab it you’d already been examining it long enough to recognise it’s contents, you held it away from him, but his arms were longer than yours and soon enough, much to your dismay, he’d wrestled it away from you, carefully examining it for any damage it might have attained, 

“What is that thing?” You asked, 

“What does it look like,” he snapped, “honestly can’t you read?” 

“Yes I can,” you say indignantly, “I can also punch you again if you want,” you add, and he shoots you a look that seems to say, “try me, punk.” you imagine it must be an effective look if you’re an older sibling, but you were an only child and in no way intimidated by George Weasley of all people, 

“Wait,” suddenly it clicks, “Is that what you’ve been using to track me down all this time?” you asked, and George’s expression changed into a more devilishly innocent one, 

“no?” he tried and failed to sound honest, 

“Oh my god, you’re a creep!” You exclaimed, 

“Pardon?!” 

“You’re a stalker!” you continued, “Honestly, Weasley, I always knew you were off your rocker but following me around? That’s low,” You said, “In fact, I should go and tell the professors what you’ve been doing right now,” you say, crossing your arms, 

“Oh please, we both know we’ve got too much dirt on each other,” He says,  

“what do you mean?” you ask, 

“You are aware that I’m probably the only person who knows all the stuff you’ve gotten yourself into? If I go down, you’re going down with me,” He leans on the stone statue he’d been hiding behind, watching your footsteps on the map after a snack run for him and his dormmates, 

“How do I know you’re not bluffing?” You puff out your chest, 

“I know it was you who snuck pixies into history of magic, I also know it was you who enchanted that fake mouse to distract Mrs Norris so you could rearrange the paintings in order to confuse them,” He smirks, “I could go on,” 

“shoot,” you sigh, “Fine, I won’t turn you in but you can’t use that thing to track me, it’s an unfair advantage, and it’s creepy!” 

“Or you’ll do what?” he asks, smirking,

“Or I hex you into next year, Weasley, that’s what. Now bugger off,” You reply, tossing your hair as you turn to go into the kitchens. George watches you go, shaking his head. There was no way he wasn’t going to use that map, pissing you off was the best part of his day at this point, in fact, he looked forward to seeing you start as he popped up round corners and from secret passages, though, he had to admit while his muscles ached, that he’d appreciate it more if your first instinct wasn’t to punch whatever scared you. 

***

Now, on this lovely Friday afternoon, you thought you’d gotten rid of George for once as you snuck away from the crowded halls, slipping out of the stream of students heading for lunch, you hoped the map would cover you up in the many names filling the hallways, making your detour unnoticeable. 

Was the idea of using a mandrake to knock out Snape so you’d be free to spend the afternoon in Hogsmeade checking out the newest branch of Zonko’s products cruel? Absolutely it was. Was it morally wrong to exploit a potentially dangerous magical creature for your own, selfish reasons? Yes. No doubt about it. Did that stop you as you picked the greenhouse’s rusty lock with a hairpin? Um, no? 

Getting into the greenhouses was almost too easy for your fourteen-year-old self. The more difficult thing was getting a hold of mandrake and getting it up to the potions classroom without anyone seeing you, you wondered if the potted plant would be heavy; it was a long walk after all. Perhaps it was easier just to yank it out of the dirt and stuff a sock in its mouth until you reached Snape. You decided to spare your sock, deciding the dirt would reveal you as the culprit, and kneeled down to pick up one of the large pots marked “mandrake” 

“You’re not going to be able to carry that.” His sing-song voice makes you nearly fall over as you hastily rise to your feet, 

“How did you find me?” you ask, as he shakes the parchment in front of himself as an answer, you scowl, “one day, Weasley, I’m going to break into your dorm and set that piece of ruddy parchment on fire,” you huff, 

“Good luck, I sleep with it very close to me,” he says, stuffing the parchment into his trousers under his shirt. You make a disgusted face, “So I’m afraid you’d have to light me on fire before you reach it,” he says, shrugging, 

“You say like that’s a bad thing,” you put your hands on your hips, smirking,  

“It’s not if your life’s aspiration is to go to Azkaban, but I figured you’d at least try to aim a little higher than that,” he gives you the same smirk that makes you want to lunge out after him just to wipe it off his face, but instead you clench your jaw, 

“Whatever, just don’t get in my way while I carry this,” you say, turning back to the mandrake pot, “lord knows that’s all you do these days,” you mutter to yourself, lifting the pot which turns out to be very heavy indeed. 

“What’s that? just stand here in the doorway and don’t move?” he feigns innocence, putting on a clueless expression as he blocks the door, 

“Seriously, get out of the way,” you snap at him, struggling to find a good grip on the pot, “Now, Weasley,” you add when George doesn’t move an inch, 

“What on earth could you possibly need a mandrake for anyways?” He asks, still not moving, 

“As if I would tell you that. It’s none of your business what I need it for,” you snarl, 

He gasps dramatically, his eyes widening in fake shock, “It wouldn’t be for a prank, would it, Y/n? Because I’m not sure I can allow that,” again he’s mocking you. Your nostrils flare in anger, “Suit yourself but I-” you try to hoist up the pot a little to get a better grip and curse under your breath when it wobbles dangerously, “-am going out the door now,” you start towards the door and when George simply looks down at you, unimpressed, you speed up, and it’s only in the last second George swoops to the side making you hurry out the door onto the slippery, uneven grass and it takes about two seconds before your feet slip and you crash to the ground below, George’s laughs echoing inside the greenhouse and out into the grounds. You roll around on the ground, sitting up and preparing to yell abuse at the ginger boy with his hands on his knees as he laughs but behind you the mandrake baby is wrestling itself free from dirt and shards of pottery and before you can say anything it begins to shriek horribly in long, ear-piercing screams and both you and George crash to the ground, unconscious. 

After a hefty scolding from Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout and 50 points taken from each of you, you and George are free to leave the hospital wing. He doesn’t seem nearly as annoyed by the consequences as you do, in fact he’s smiling as he jumps out of his bed, “What do you reckon they’re serving for supper? I’m starving,” he says, patting his stomach. You frown at him. He’s ruined your perfect Snape free, Zonko’s filled afternoon and he’s thinking about dinner. You stalk him out into the corridor just outside the hospital wing and as soon as the curtained doors slam behind you, you grab him and push him up against the cold stone walls, your wand pointed at his chest. It’s the first time you’ve seen George Weasley look genuinely shocked and god is it satisfying after all the times he’s managed to have the upper hand, 

“Listen, Weasley, maybe this is just fun and games to you, but I don’t have time for games and if you screw up my business again, I swear I’ll break your face,” your satisfaction shrinks as a that damned smirk grows on his face, he looks down on you, having grown more than a bit taller than you over the summer, in fact, he sort of towers over you while you try to remain stoic. He leans forward, the tip of your wand pressing into his chest, 

“I would love to see you try, L/n,” he says, “I doubt you’ll be able to reach though,” he says, drawing an invisible line out from his face, several inches above the top of your head. And with that he slaps the wand out of your hand and takes off, leaving you to retrieve your wand before following him. 

“I hate you!” You yell after him, 

“The feeling’s mutual!” His voice echoes through the halls. 

taglist: @schlongbottom​ @cardboardbenmazzello​ @unseensilver​ @mochamiilk Let me know if you want to be added :))  

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Different Worlds (4)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn, me making stuff up

Word Count: 2125

A/N: Four chapters in 24 hours? 👀 I also made a playlist!

~*~

Chapter 4: I Love Luci

The alarms woke everyone in the compound. Bucky quickly pulled on his nearest clothes and grabbed his nearest gun. Steve was already out in the hallway with his shield glinting in the blinking red light. Sam stumbled out of his room using the wall as support.

“Wassgoin’on?” he slurred and looked at the two awake and alert supersoldiers.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Steve addressed the AI. “What’s going on?”

“There is an intruder,” she reported. “They are here to steal the book you recovered from the Hydra base thirty-seven hours ago.”

“Do you think it’s Hydra?” Bucky asked Steve as they ran to the stairwell.

“I still don’t think they have the strength or numbers.”

The two men turned the corner to find themselves face to face with a woman they had never seen before. She wore a dark blue, long-sleeved dress and had long, red, curly hair with bangs. In her hands was the book held close to her chest.

“Oh, hello, boys,” the woman cooed in a Scottish accent.

Then she muttered softly under her breath and flicked her wrist. The supersoldiers were suddenly pinned up to the wall by an invisible force. The woman walked by quickly, heels clicking under her dress. Bucky watched as she disappeared around the corner. Where was everyone else? The sounds of her heels grew fainter until finally, Bucky and Steve fell to the ground. At the same time, the red lights stopped flashing and the alarm shut off. The intruder was gone.

“Mr. Stark requires everyone in the briefing room immediately,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed through the halls.

“What the fuck—who the fuck was that?” Bucky asked as he stormed into the briefing room.

“I don’t know.” Tony’s head was resting in his hand. “I need to know how she got in and out.”

“Magic, obviously,” Clint mumbled. Everyone was still in their nightclothes. “She used goddamned magic to pin us to the walls or somethin’.”

“Even I couldn’t get out of it,” Wanda spoke up. Her hair was up in a messy knot on the top of her head.

“I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. go through cameras and shit. Just…how did she get in?”

~*~

“How did you get in?” you asked the red-haired witch as she proudly displayed the Magicae Libro. “I mean doesn’t the Stark fucker have the best state of the art security system? That he made himself?”

“Darling, I think I’ve made my views on technology clear by now. Do not rely on it.”

“Now what do we do?” Dean looked at the old book. Everyone was gathered around the table, slightly groggy due to it being three-thirty AM.

“We gotta trap Lucifer again,” Cas stated. “Especially before he rallies more monsters.”

“We can always lure him out.” All eyes turned to Sam. “He wants so many things. Maybe me, as a vessel. Maybe the book, or maybe Jack.”

“Once again, Jack is not going anywhere,” Cas cut in. “He will definitely not be bait for his father.”

“I can do it,” Jack insisted but was met with sharp glares from Dean and Cas.

“Sammy, you’re sure as fuck not gonna be bait either,” ordered Dean. Sam opened his mouth in protest but shut it when Dean crossed his arms.

“Then the book is bait,” you summarized. “Lucifer probably knows that it was Rowena who got her hands on it.”

“And if he doesn’t outright know, I will be suspect number one,” she agreed. “I can protect the book well enough.”

“(Y/N) and I will go with you,” Dean offered.

“Yeah, we can pretend that you’re giving it to us.” The plan was forming in your mind. “We’ll ‘meet,’” you motioned air quotations, “somewhere public. Lucifer will find us and then…”

“Then Rowena will leave with the book and I will show up with angel backup,” Cas decided. “We’ll be watching for the right moment.”

~*~

“We found her!” Tony shouted. All of the Avengers lounging in the living room in their uniform jumped to their feet. “Let’s go! She could vanish at any moment!”

They all raced down to the hanger where the quinjet was already going. Tony wasn’t the only one desperate to get the thief, they were all embarrassed for underestimating the well-dressed woman.

“Okay,” Tony said once they were up in the air. The man was still slightly winded. “She was spotted in Lebanon, Kansas.” A street photo of the woman popped up onto the quinjet’s screen.

“How did she get there so fast? It’s gonna take us ‘bout an hour and a half to get there.” Clint walked in from the cockpit with Natasha behind him.

“We’ll have constant updates on her whereabouts,” Tony assured the team.

Everyone was fidgety. Who knew what could happen if the book ended up in the wrong hands. What if it was already in the wrong hands? Bucky bounced his knee as he stared at the street photos that updated every two minutes. Thirty minutes into the flight, things got interesting.

The woman had settled into a cafe. The photo of her at 10:27 showed her sitting alone, sipping her coffee. When the photos updated at 10:29, two people had joined her. Bucky’s eyes had glazed over, but Sam’s sharp intake of breath and sharp elbow brought him back to his senses. Now (Y/N) and a man who Bucky recognized as her brother Dean sat across from the red-haired intruder.

“What’s (Y/N) doing with the thief?” Steve voiced Bucky’s thoughts.

“Who’s (Y/N)?” Wanda asked and looked at the photo which had updated, although the situation hadn’t changed. “Is it the girl?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “Bucky’s super obsessed with her.”

“Oh?” Natasha raised her eyebrow at the supersoldier in question and gave him her signature smirk.

“No, I’m not.”

“Right, because staring at her file while desperately trying to track her down isn’t an obsession,” Sam retaliated.

Steve then proceeded to explain the whole Winchester situation to the team. From the first encounter to the explanation of the supernatural.

“Ghosts and vampires?”

“Tony, aliens have invaded New York. Bucky and I are from the forties. Wanda is sitting across from you. We are literally tracking someone who used magic against us and you’re still questioning the possibility of this?”

Thank God, or whoever was looking out for them, for the quinjet’s amazing speed and tailwinds because they were able to shave off half an hour from their travel time. Based on the photos, the three people in the cafe haven’t moved. They were actually finishing up their breakfast.

When they landed and were about to leave, the photos updated to reveal a fourth person had joined them. The redhead, (Y/N), and her brother were visibly tense at the man’s arrival. Bucky was the first out of the plane.

~*~

You and Dean had been sitting across from Rowena in an empty cafe for almost thirty minutes. The Devil was still a no-show. At least you got a nice breakfast out of it. Rowena sighed dramatically and opened her mouth to speak when someone stopped at your table.

“Well if it isn’t some of the people who are always a fucking thorn in my side,” Lucifer greeted politely. About goddamn time.

“Well if it isn’t the literal fucking Devil,” you replied.

“Well if it isn’t the archangel who murdered me twice,” Rowena continued.

“Well if it is—”

“Enough!” Lucifer shouted. The lone waiter behind the counter looked up and you made a subtle motion to tell him to leave. “You have something that belongs to me.”

He reached over Rowena for the book, but she took him by surprise and was able to throw him back far enough that you all managed to stand up and go on the defensive. Dean had his demon-killing knife and you held an angel blade. The kitchen doors opened and the two cooks walked out. They joined the waiter who was still behind the counter.

You were about to yell at them to get the fuck out, but when three pairs of eyes flashed black the only word that slipped out was, “Shit.”

As if your plan hadn’t already gone sideways, backward, and every direction except the one you wanted, the cafe’s bell above the door signaled the arrival of… the goddamn fucking Avengers. All of them, this time. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out an obvious groan of annoyance.

“Everybody, stand down.” Of course, Captain America would try to take the diplomatic route with Satan. In his defense, he didn’t know.

“They have something of mine,” Lucifer snarled. “And I have every intention of killing everyone to get it back.”

“Is it the book?” Iron Man stepped forward. Man, this cafe was starting to feel kinda small. “Because she,” he pointed at Rowena, “stole it from us.”

“And where did you get it?” Lucifer’s eyes flashed red. You saw Bucky look at you. He knew this was something supernatural.

“We took it from an evil organization.”

“And where did they get it?”

“Rowena,” you interrupt. “Go. Cas won’t come until the book is gone.”

“Stay and play a bit, Red,” Lucifer smirked as the cook demons lunged at you.

The waiter flicked his wrist and most of the Avengers went flying. You watched Lucifer who stalked towards Rowena as you fought off your demon. Every time your angel blade cut its skin, the wound momentarily glowed. Rowena was using her powers to push Lucifer back, but the Devil was still gaining on her in a perfect display of ‘two steps forward, one step back.’ She was leading him outside, away from the crowded cafe.

The Avengers were doing horribly. It was seven against one. ‘Earth’s mightiest heroes’ your ass. The demon held them up to the wall. You noticed that the Scarlet Witch was doing the most with her red mist.

Finally, your angle blade found its rightful place in the heart of a demon. It glowed brightly before it collapsed. Dean was able to off his own demon at the same time. You didn’t hesitate to put your blade through the back of the waiter’s skull. The Avengers were released from the demon’s grip and they fell to the floor. Wasting no time, you ran out the door screaming the Devil’s name.

“Lucifer!” He ignored you. “Lucifer, you son of a bitch!”

A red mist suddenly surrounded Satan and pulled him back toward you. Rowena and the book disappeared before the Scarlet Witch could grab her too. Someone walked up next to you and you turned to see Bucky watching Lucifer struggling against the red mist.

“Is that really Lucifer?” he looked at you with his beautiful blue eyes. Hot damn, you could stare into his eyes forever.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Your brain finally caught up. “Yep. That’s our good frenemy, Satan.”

“The Devil?” came Capt—Steve’s voice behind you.

“‘Frenemy?’” another voice asked. You turned and made eye contact with Hawkeye. In response, you smiled and nodded.

“You have an on-again, off-again relationship with Lucifer?” Iron Man asked.

“We have an on-again, off-again relationship with Lucifer,” Dean confirmed.

“Isn’t that right, Luci?” you jokingly asked the Devil who was now floating a couple of feet away from you.

“I honestly thought we were friends now, (Y/N),” Lucifer deadpanned.

“You tried to kill us,” Dean pointed out. “Multiple times. Most recent being one fucking minute ago!”

“That’s what friends do!” Lucifer smiled. “Wow, lookie, the Avengers! What are they doing here? This is crazy! I’m a big fan.”

“What were you planning?” you speak before the Avengers could react to the Devil’s comments. You could feel Bucky’s gaze on you as Lucifer became serious.

“(Y/N), Dean, I’m not the bad guy here.” You rolled your eyes and could tell a couple of Avengers did the same. “Something is happening. You need to see the big picture.”

The sound of fluttering wings signaled the arrival of four angels and Cas. They appeared and surrounded Lucifer.

“Thank you, guys,” Cas said looking at you and Dean. “They’ll take care of him now.” He looked back at the four angels and nodded his head.

“The big picture, (Y/N),” Lucifer said one last time before he vanished.

“Ready to go home?” Cas still paid no mind to the group of heroes. “Everyone is waiting back at the bunker.”

“Um, I think I want some answers,” Iron Man cut in.

“We all want answers,” agreed the red-haired woman. The Black Widow.

“What,” Dean looked at you, “are we just going to invite the Avengers over for coffee?”

“Yes,” you and Cas said at the same time.

Dean sighed, “All right. Let’s go.”

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666

[fistsoflightning]

29: how i met your (other) dad

prompt: paternal || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 1423

This story, unfortunately, starts with an Ala Mhigan miqo’te of eight summers being conscripted and taken to Doma...

DON’T WORRY; IT’S NOT ANGST. Set sometime in the near future, with thanks to @to-the-voiceless for letting me create Family Storytime Shenanigans.

Once upon a time—

“Is that how we’re starting this, Ruki?” Papa huffs as he sits down with a steaming teapot and three wooden cups, no less smile-y than Dad even as he elbows him in the ribs. The plate of snacks in his other hand he pushes to Mune—oooh, melon pan. He looks up at Papa before picking it up, giggling quietly as he can at Papa’s silly wink. “Really now, once upon a time?”

Dad’s smile widens into a grin; the kind that he gets when he’s made a really, really bad joke. “Of course,” he says, clapping his hands together. “Can’t have storytime without a properly narrated story, right?”

Mune groans between crumbs as best he can without spraying them all over Papa’s new tunic as they both wait for Dad to continue.

As I was saying—once upon a time, in the not-so-distant lands of Yanxia, an Ala Mhigan conscript of thirteen summers snuck out of the fairly-new Castrum in the dead of night, a small bag of kobans clutched to his chest. Don’t worry; those are important for later. Also, don’t steal money that isn’t yours.

That night, he had a mission: to deliver the secret stash of kobans he found to the nice couple in the village nearby. He’d snuck out dozens of times before, with the weird size of the ventilation in his room, and tonight was no different as he crawled through to land outside. With the moon and stars hung high in the sky, he didn’t have to worry too badly about his poor vision in the dark until he passed into the Gensui Chain—

“That’s not that important,” Papa quips as he pours out a cup of tea for himself—it kinda smells like the flowers in their garden, now that Mune breathes it in. “Your hair was—”

“Shh! Let me get there.” Dad reaches out and steals Papa’s cup with a surprise kiss to Papa’s forehead, taking a sip before setting it by his foot.

The problem was, since he almost got caught the last time he snuck out, he would have to take a different path in case horrible Miss Prisca had told the night watch to keep an eye out for any escaped miqo’tes! So even though his usual path would take him to Namai in barely half a bell, he wound his way through the Fanged Crescent through another path he’d only traveled once.

“I dunno how you managed to dodge the main path, actually,” Dad admits as he takes another pause to drink. “The mountains everywhere make it pretty hard to get around unless you took a falcon.”

Papa shrugs. “Maybe being born and raised in the mountains of Gyr Abania gives me an advantage?”

Regardless of how difficult that would normally be for any kid of thirteen summers, he was a lot stronger and braver than most (“I—I wouldn’t say that…”) and eventually ended up… somewhere not quite along the path that he had intended. Just across the river was Namai, its aetheryte casting a blue glow across the plants that he had found himself surrounded with, but to get there he’d have to pass through the farmland he ended up in. Without moonlight to clear his path, he cautiously walked through and over plants, keeping an eye out for anyone who might still be working…

But, unfortunately, he managed to miss the quietly watching boy through the squelching sounds of his boots in the rice paddy—

“That’s not it,” Papa says decisively, tearing Mune’s attention away from Dad as he sets down his cup of matcha. Dad makes a funny almost-whine, but he turns to Papa too with a grin that might as well say go on, then. “Well, er, the rice paddy bit is true, but…”

Unfortunately, in his hurry to get away from the farm, he found that the boy with shockingly teal hair had seen him and was approaching. In his hurry to get past, he tried to run past the boy, but found that the other kid was much taller and bigger than distance made him appear, so when they were barely ilms away from each other the boy accidentally tripped the escaping kid! The kobans held tight in his arms scattered as he fell, golden coins lining the bottom of the rice paddy he was now soaked in.

“Hey, my hair wasn’t that bad when I started out, Dewah,” Dad says, and his voice has truly made its way into whining territory now. “Shockingly teal? No way.”

“Ruki, it was the middle of the night and I could see you. For being a miqo’te, my night vision is horrible,” Papa says with an apologetic smile, resting his hand atop Dad’s. “So either it used to be a lot better than I thought, or, uh, your hair really was. Not good. A-anyways, uhm…”

“Wait wait wait, let me tell this part.” Dad straightens up and rubs his hands together. Mune wouldn’t ever say either of his dads have ever looked like they were up to something, but Dad’s certainly giving it his best to look like he is.

After noticing just how tiny and alarmed the kid who tried to run by him looked, the Au’ra boy pulled the miqo’te boy up gently—

“I almost went flying when you pulled me up? I-is that gently?”

—pulled the miqo’te up energetically from his seat in the mud, and said… uh...

“...Dewah.” Dad turns to Papa, setting his hands on Papa’s shoulders with fake seriousness. “Do you remember what I said, because I sure don’t.”

“Y-you don’t?”

Dad tilts his head innocently. “Not really?”

“You asked if I,” Papa says, and Mune can’t tell if he’s about to cry or laugh, really; his face scrunches up in the same way for both. “If I was… was Tamamo Gozen! B-because—”

Papa breaks into a round of poorly muffled giggles, and Mune does too. Dad looks like he’s about to hurt himself, with how hard he’s thinking about what Papa said.

“Your fur and hair were white when we were thirteen!” Dad drops his fist into his palm like it was some kind of important revelation, only leaving Mune to laugh harder. “And with your giant ears and red eyes and the robe—”

“Hey, my ears were not and are not giant!”

“You looked exactly how all the stories described the shrine maiden!”

Papa stops giggling to look straight into Dad’s eyes, a smile still tugging at the corners of his eyes. “D-did you think I was a girl on top of all that?”

Dad’s silence tells both Papa and Mune all they need to know about that, sending all three of them into another round of laughter that makes his stomach hurt. Papa’s completely fallen over into his own lap, curled up in a ball while his tail lashes about behind him—it’s probably a good thing that Dad’s pulled away the teapot and the cups to his side before the two of them completely lost it.

A-anyways, after that mess of a conversation, the two boys exchanged names—Haruki Hagane and A’dewah Tia… and that’s how we first met; two fools confined by the reach of the Garlean Empire, taking what they can and making the best of it.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Mune cuts in, breathless, much to Papa’s dismay—aw, his ears pin down when he tilts his head.

“And I thought we were telling this story to our son, Munehise. Did he leave while we weren’t looking? Sneaking around looking for more snacks, maybe?” Dad pushes him his cup with a suspicious grin.

Dad’s just barely close enough for Mune to playfully slap his leg in retaliation.

“I know that Papa was a conscript back then, and that he’s from Ala Mhigo,” Mune says, tapping his forehead as he thinks. “And obviously you met as kids. But you said that he left when I was still a baby, before even Hana-oba left, so…”

“How did Dewah leave Yanxia?” Dad asks in his stead, and even if his dads are trying to hide it he can still see the way Papa’s hand curls tight in Dad’s hand. Mune nods. “Well, if he’s okay with telling it…”

Papa nods, clearing his throat and putting on his bravest storytelling face Mune’s seen yet.

This story happens nearly nine years after the two first meet in a rice paddy, summer fireflies surrounding them in the humid night, and much like a summer breeze does one A’dewah Tia make his adventurous escape...

[aethelar]

FB week day 5: Crossover

Newt’s not sure, later, exactly how it happens. There are spells. Dragon flame. Bombs. There might have been thunder, or maybe just more war, echoing off the sky as though it could reach out and swallow the stars.

War seems to reach everywhere these days, Newt wouldn’t be surprised if it could.

In the immediate sense there is the slick feel of wet leather under his aching hands, the dull sheen of rain on polished metal, the freezing bite of a storm as he struggled to keep hold. He hooks a numb arm around one of the ironbelly’s ridged neck-spines, fingers frozen and useless even in his gloves.

“Down!” he yells, again, bracing his shoulder against the wind. “Damnit Katya, land!”

She roars a frustrated denial, head whipping left to right as she struggles to see anything through the storm. Newt isn’t the only flier in the dragon corps but he’s the only one stupid enough to be airborne; they’re alone in the sky and though he trusts Katya to keep them steady he’s rapidly losing control of the warming charms that are the only thing standing between him and hypothermia.

Her wings flare out in a sudden turn and Newt is thrown sharply against his harness, the force of it knocking the wind from him. He wheezes, blinking through his sodden fringe as his chest pounds, and scrabbles desperately to right himself.

“Katya -”

The fire comes out of nowhere. Katya warbles in alarm and dodges again, but not fast enough; she misses the fire but the hulking mass of the horntail slams into her left side. Newt yells something incomprehensible, pushing forwards with a burst of magic to shield the delicate membrane of her wing. He feels more than hears the skitter-thud of impact as the other dragon’s spiked tail swings up against Katya’s armoured underbelly; her scales hold, but the horntail has her, talons wrapped around her wing joints and jaws angling for her neck.

Newt swears. He forces numb fingers to curl around the handle of his wand; one jagged slash releases him from the harness and with the second he points blindly at the horntail and summons. She’s too big to be moved so he’s flung upwards, and he spins through the air, wand aimed and squinting through the pelting rain - there, he can see her rider -

“Stupefy,” he spits. The woman - man? - jerks to the side and the spell dissipates harmlessly off the horntail’s hide, but it’s enough to break her concentration. Newt lands awkwardly, sticking charms on his knees keeping him from tumbling off, and immediately flattens himself under a shield to avoid her retaliation. It creaks under the onslaught and Newt grits his teeth in anger; he uses stunning spells specifically so he won’t hurt the dragons but clearly the other rider doesn’t have the same concerns. It means that Newt can’t dodge for fear of the horntail getting caught in the crossfire - he has to shield them both and he has to end this fast. Katya’s armoured and fierce, but tangled as they are the dragons are plummeting to the ground.

The rider spits an instruction and the horntail swings her tail again, wings flapping for balance. Katya bellows, tongues of her blue-white flame lighting up the sky around them but Newt has to trust that she can hold her own for a minute longer. He flings himself at the distracted rider, knees bent and shoulder first in the tackle Theseus taught him - she goes down with a yell, her wand already up and a spell cracking into Newt’s side - he hears bombs, or maybe thunder, or all of the above - the dragons roll and Newt hangs by the sticking charms on his knees - the other rider falls - the ground is too close - the horntail roars and the world is on fire - the rain stings against his skin and Newt can’t breathe -

He’s not sure, later, how it happens, but they skid to a tangled, messy landing. Newt is half-crushed under a scaled limb, the ground is gritty and hot beneath him, and he thinks his side is bleeding from the other rider’s spell.

His last thought before passing out is, but where did the rain go.

He wakes up slowly, wading through a molasses headache to a world that’s far too bright. He squints, the skin on his face pulling in a way that announces, delightfully, that it’s sunburnt. The arm he raises to block the sun is similarly tight-skinned and achy, though at least some of that pain is radiating out from his shoulder.

He can still move it though. Probably not broken. Which is good; skel-gro remains one of the most disgusting and unpleasant potions he’s ever taken, no matter how many times he’s had to use it. Dragon riding just isn’t good for his taste buds.

So: he’s sunburnt, but conscious, and he hasn’t broken his arms. The pain that flares out from his side when he tries to sit up suggests that his ribs weren’t so lucky - the spell the other rider hit him with has left him with a dark burn and at least one break, though thankfully it doesn’t seem to be more than a fracture. Beyond that his legs are scraped sore even through his thick leather chaps and one ankle is tender from having a dragon land on it, but he seems ok. A shaky episkey to patch over his side and he’s not even bleeding anymore.

Much.

Eh, it’ll do until one of the healers can look at it. There are other things to worry about - first being his dragon. She’s curled up not far from him, wings tucked in tight against her back. The sun glinting off her white scales is almost blinding.

“Katya?” he tries, testing his weight on his ankle. It holds, so he walks gingerly over to her. “Katya, malecha? You alive over there?”

She twists her head back, fixing one upside down eye on him with a warbling chirp. The knot in Newt’s chest loosens at her relaxed expression. “Katya,” he repeats, hobbling faster. “Let me see, poppet, show Mummy how bad it is.” She huffs, but hauls herself to her feet, too used to his fussing to complain. Each wing is stretched out for inspection - neither are torn, thank Merlin, though the thin membrane is in danger of drying out and cracking in the heat - followed by a slow turn to show the damage she’d taken.

“Oh, baby girl,” he soothes, running a hand down her neck. “My poor thing.” Her side is barely hurt, thick scales protecting her from the horntail’s claws, but the base of her neck is badly scratched. It’s right where the harness loops over, which both is and isn’t surprising; it makes tactical sense to try to tear a rider’s harness off as a rider-less dragon is rarely as great a threat, but horntails aren’t known for their use of strategy.

Horntail riders, on the other hand, are sometimes known for their use of the imperio curse. Newt’s mouth settles in a grim line. Even some of the ironbelly riders had used spells to control their dragons. They all swore they didn’t, of course, but dragons were unpredictable and they rarely liked the people that tried to fly them into battlefields.

When this stupid war was done, Newt was personally going to see the dragons set free - or at the very least given a good home in a reserve. He didn’t care about the contracts Gringotts had to buy them, he’d sneak in at night and steal the dragons if he had to. And the horntails, if he ever found out where Grindelwald’s forces were keeping them. It wasn’t their fault they were fighting against him. They were dragons. They shouldn’t be fighting anyone.

“Time to get this off you, malecha,” he says, peeling the harness back from Katya’s neck. It’s unwieldy for one person to manage but judicious use of feather-weight and levitating charms get the job done, and she shakes herself out with an approving rumble when it’s gone.

“Careful,” Newt cautions. “Let me look. It won’t hurt, I just need to see.” He keeps up the soothing commentary as he climbs up to her back, taking advantage of the wing she crooks forward to lift him up. It’s trickier without the harness but Newt’s had over a year of practice and she holds still enough that he makes it easily.

“Good girl,” he praises, smoothing his hands over the unbroken patches of skin. “My brave girl, the best of dragons. Just hold still for me Katya, just for a minute.” He taps his wand against the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieves a tub of faintly glowing blue gel. “Katya, eyes on me,” he says, holding it out. “Katya, look. Eyes on me.”

She cranes her head round as instructed and he waits until she’s acknowledged the tub before he unscrews it. Her neck spines flatten back with displeasure but she knows how this one goes, and does little more than hiss when Newt spreads the cold gel on her scratches.

“Best girl,” he tells her. “The very best of dragons, my bravest Katya.” He even reaches out to give her eye ridge a scratch in reward and she huffs at him, but presses closer for more when he stops. He laughs, obliging her with more scritches.

“We’re going to be alright, malecha,” he murmurs. Battles are always horrible and he’s got some fabulous new additions for his nightmares, but Katya’s wounds are minimal and his own are survivable, so that’s the important things down. It’s a relief that she’s ok, a frantic buzzing at the back of his skull that goes quiet and allows him to focus on the rest of their situation. Newt takes the chance to look around at the oddly bright place they’ve landed, trying to work out how far it’ll be to get back to the stables.

He blinks.

“What…?”

The stables are roughly twenty miles outside St Quentin. They’re hidden behind wards, muggle repellents, and trees, and are close enough to the Western Front that Newt knows the route by heart and could draw an aerial map if he needed to. The map would contain fields in varying stages of muddiness, dead trees, some living trees, a handful of towns and trenches and assorted people, and at least one river.

The map would not contain a desert. Newt’s pretty sure he could draw a map of the entirety of Europe and not find a desert like this.

“Katya, how far did you fly last night?”

She opens her eyes long enough stare disinterestedly at the blank wasteland around them and shuts them with an uncaring shrug. Newt navigates. She breathes fire. Nothing to burn, nothing for her to worry about; she nudges into Newt’s hands and demands more pets.

“Katya - no, not now little girl, Mummy needs - point me Theseus.” It’s the strongest form of the spell Newt knows, latching onto his care for his brother to direct him unerringly back home. It never fails. Sometimes it leads him astray, if Theseus isn’t where Newt expects him to be, but the spell has never failed. It wouldn’t. Even if Theseus were - it wouldn’t.

The wand spins.

“Point me Theseus,” he repeats. “Point - point me Katya.” The wand angles straight down, almost falling from his fingers. “Point me Theseus.”

It spins.

Katya croons, pushing her head against his chest and knocking into his broken ribs. That’s fine. Newt can’t breathe anyway. He shakes his wand and tries again for the same result, and he almost throws it away from himself in disgust because it’s broken, it must be broken -

Katya pushes harder, the rougher scales around her jaw scraping against the burn on his side. He drags in a harsh, shuddering breath and tightens his grip on his wand.

“We’re too far away,” he says, forcing his voice steady. “That’s all baby girl, we’ve gone off course. We need - we just need -” He stops, breathes, counts it in and out until he thinks he can talk again. He has to keep his voice steady. Katya’s shifting her weight, unsettled by his panic, and he has to keep her safe.

“We just need to find out where we are,” he tells her when he can speak again. “Find where we are and find the way back, and we’ll find Theseus when we’re close again, that’s all. It’ll be ok, Katya, you’ll see. We’re ok. We’re all good.”

He strokes a hand down her neck, staring blankly at the miles of desert around them. His hand is sunburnt. It’s almost glowing red against her white scales. How the hell did they end up in a desert.

“Everything’s fine, Katya,” he promises her. “We’re fine.”

They’re not fine. It takes until nightfall for Newt to be sure, but the sky confirms what every variant of scrying spell he knows have been trying to tell him for the past five hours: they’re a long, long way from home.

He can’t find a single constellation he knows.

He can find a moon, though it seems larger and ever so slightly brighter than he’s used to, and the white pinpoints of starlight against an otherwise black sky is also familiar. He doesn’t think he’s in a dream or a memory, and there’s enough natural magic on the edge of his senses that he doesn’t think he’s trapped in an object either. He can’t get a proper grip on the magic though to be sure - it’s oddly thick and sharp, skittering off his reaching senses like something almost physical. But it’s definitely magic and it’s definitely natural, which means the endless desert is an unfortunate reality.

So is the cold. And the hunger. And the fact that, real or not, he and Katya are hopelessly lost.

“Eyes on me, Katya,” he murmurs again, holding his wand up for her to see. She huffs in annoyance but turns her head to look, blinking sleepily at him as he casts yet another perimeter charm. It flickers into life around them with a flare of gold-green before fading invisible into the sand. Katya curls her tail in tighter around Newt; the charm won’t hurt her, but she’s intelligent enough to recognise a boundary when she sees it. 

“Best girl,” Newt promises her, and settles back against her as she grumbles a reply and goes back to sleep. The armoured plates on her stomach are too thick to let any heat through but the softer scales of her side are warm; Newt buries his fingers in his armpit and presses in as close as he can.

In his brown army jacket, he has a basic field medkit, a more elaborate dragon medkit, official papers identifying him as a member of Her Majesty’s Magical Airforce, his wand, and a lopsided drawing of a hippogriff Theseus had made to remind him of home. On his belt he had four flares, a now half-empty canteen of water, and a pocket knife that doubled as a quill pen and a corkscrew depending on which way he opened it.

“What we need, malecha,” he says, “is food. And water, but with any luck they’ll be together. You might be able to go a week without eating but your mummy, he’s not as strong as you are.” He folds and unfolds the hippogriff sketch restlessly, smoothing the paper out between his hands as he thinks. Katya doesn’t respond but he doesn’t expect her to - he’s more talking for the sake of it, in the vain hope of keeping himself calm. “What do you reckon, baby girl? Travel by day? Travel by night? It’s hot in the sun, you think you could be nocturnal for a bit?”

Katya groans and moves and lifts a wing over Newt, pressing it down like a particularly smothering blanket. He sputters out a laugh, pushing it until his head at least is free. “Ok, ok,” he relents. “No travelling by night, we’ll sleep. Breakfast can wait til the morning.” He bites his lip. He’s got three different ward spells running and even in the war that’d be overkill, but he doesn’t know where they are or what might be out there. He’s not the worrying sort but he’s not the reckless sort either, not when it comes to his dragon’s safety.

“Katya?” he says, lifting his wand. “Sorry baby girl, just one more."

The wards flare barely an hour before dawn. Newt scrambles awake, instinctively putting himself between Katya and the threat, wand raised to defend. Katya herself stayed still, wings tucked in to protect the delicate membrane and head lowered in watchful wariness.

On the other side of the wardline two figures jump back to a safe distance, crouched in battle-ready positions. They don’t seem to have wands, and they aren’t attacking, but they don’t seem friendly either; their clothes aren’t military in the way Newt recognises but with the matching i marked headplates they definitely look like a uniform.

“Hello,” Newt says cautiously. “I don’t mean you any harm. I’m lost.”

No reply.

“Bon jour,” he tries, repeating his statement in French, then Guten Morgen, and finally dobroye utro in a stumbling attempt at Russian.

One of the figures says something back in harsh, aggressive language - or that might just be the woman’s tone - that Newt doesn’t recognise.

“I’m sorry,” he says, reverting back to English. “I don’t -” he mimes, pointing to his ear and shaking his head - “I don’t understand.” He chews his lip in deliberation, then slides his wand up his sleeve in obvious, telegraphed motions and holds out his empty palms. “I come in peace,” he says, and tries not to feel too much like an idiot as he does so.

The wards ping behind him and Newt spins but Katya is faster, rearing up with a roar and unleashing a gout of flame at the intruder.

“Katya, Katya wait!” Newt yells, flinging his arms up to shield himself from the heat. The wards break with a static crack and Newt gropes blindly for Katya’s leg to try to climb up, desperately dodging her beating wings. He can hear the others shouting and a sudden, fierce wind sends him sprawling back - he cries out as it hits him, a flare of foreign magic-not-magic that leaves stinging papercuts over his skin. His ribs ache as he lands on them and the sand burns, molten glass from the dragonfire mixed in with the other grains.

Katya shrieks, furious and terrified, and Newt shakes the pain off to focus on her. The two figures have been joined by a third, same uniform, and between them they’re working in a smoothly coordinated attack that’s almost too fast for Newt to see. There’s no way he can hit any of them with a spell and with Katya in the middle of them he can’t use an area-effect either.

“Katya!” he yells. One of the three attackers splits off, flinging a pair of knives that clatter loudly against Newt’s shield. “Katya, up!” She growls, twisting her head round to look at him and letting out a high whistle of distress when she realises he’s too far away for her to reach. The knife-thrower has given up on projectiles and now appears to be summoning glowing air-blades that extend out from each hand; Newt reinforces his shield and wishes, desperately, that he knew more about the magic here and whether his defences would hold.

“Up, Katya!” he commands again, begging her to obey. She roars, sweeping another torrent of flame out in protest, but with a final leap she’s airborne and spiralling away. Newt grins. Bereft of their other target all three of the attackers now begin to circle him, testing his shield with their weapons and strange elemental magics. With dragon safely out the way though he doesn’t have to worry so much about using his spells.

He drops his shield and banishes the ground in one movement, stifling a yell as the force of being thrown in the air jars his ribs. One of the men wastes no time in following him, leaping thirty feet straight up in the air and landing a spinning kick to Newt’s solar plexus that leaves him gasping and tasting blood. He apparates, aiming for the ground in a panic and lands in a wheezing mess; he’s far enough away that he gets a second to get his wand up and shoot out a shaky freezing charm, slashing his wand in a harsh arc as he does so to cover a wider area.

One figure drops, arms pinned to its side and spine ramrod straight. Newt apparates again just as the other reaches him - then again, in panic, when a giant eagle made out of wind nearly eviscerates him. He’s breathless and running dangerously close to exhausting himself, and he needs to get away somewhere safe so Katya can find him again but if he keeps apparating like this he’ll splinch himself.

His magic flares a warning and Newt flicks his wand up in a shield charm but he’s too slow. Rough hands grab his head, hauling it back to hold a blade against his throat, and a foot slams into his wrist to make him drop his wand.

The man barks something at him, a single word command that Newt doesn’t understand. The meaning isn’t hard to guess, and he holds himself deliberately still. The next sentence that the man says though he doesn’t have a hope.

“I don’t know,” he says, trying subtly to lean away from the knife. The man repeats it, harsher this time with his hand tightening painfully in Newt’s hair. “I don’t know! I don’t understand you, I don’t know what you want!”

For a second he thinks that’ll be it, the man will try to cut his throat and Newt will have to risk apparating and probably splinch both of them in the process - then in a movement too fast to follow, he flips the knife and slams the blunt handle into Newt’s temple and Newt is suddenly, jarringly unconscious.

[artificialqueens]

Bring It On Again pt 2 (Branjie) - Ashley

A/N: part 2 of Bring It On, time for Brooke to try out for the Amazons! Hope you like! Thanks for the lovely feedback make sure to keep it coming and any concrit you have. Just wanna apologise for a typo that slipped away from me in the first chapter I’ve been a lot more vigilant this time. This ones a bit sad, prepare for an ep7 untucked level bust up, but oh well. Enjoy! Love Ashley xoxo

One night was all she’d had to try and channel her precise years of ballerina training into the fast-paced flicks and fierceness of cheerleading. Although she was physically capable of doing all the moves she had been meticulously researching, Brooke was still far out of her comfort zone - yes she could flip but could she do it fast enough? Would she even look like a cheerleader? It took every inch of will not to return her feet back to third position after completing a move, now having to keep them shoulder-width apart and her arms raised in a high V instead. The moment had arrived and despite begging Jovan to come to watch her audition he was decidedly against the whole nature of cheerleading so she had come alone. Trying hard not to let the cheerleaders intimidate her, Brooke cast her mind back to Toronto where she had always floated above the rest of the school, she was ready. Like something out of a 2000s teen film, the squad sat at a long table of 5; two boys adjourning either end, Akeria and Silky sat next to each of them and of course Vanessa in the middle. They all had matching blue and white tracksuit jackets with the Amazon emblem embroidered at the left side of the chest. Vanessa’s differed from everyone else; with gold piping around the edge and “Vanjie” written under the logo, she separated herself from the rest of the group, outlining herself as the ruler of the group.  “You need to fill one of these out,” she looked at Brooke with slight disdain, holding up the application form. “Did it,” Brooke replied sharply, whipping the sheet from her pocket and walking towards the table to hand it to the girl. Her large eyes skimming the page quickly, Vanessa grinned: “Brooke Lynn, is it? Before we start I’m going to need to make sure you can do a standing back tuck. Standard procedure, you’ll understand.” “Just Brooke. Standing back handspring, back tuck okay?” she replied, not waiting for the girls response before throwing herself backwards into the move- grateful for the years of gymnastic seminars and flexibility training that accompanied her focus on ballet, Brooke knew she was still in too deep with the moves, but if there was one thing she’d learned about competition it was that they should never see you falter. “Nice job white girl,” Akeria smiled at Brooke, jotting something down in her notebook. “But can she yell? We’ll try an oldie” Vanessa looked Brooke up and down, clearly taking note of her quieter and more reserved nature compared to the Amazons. Moving her arms to the tune of her own chant, she began to perform from her seat and once again Brooke realised why everyone at the school was so obsessed with Vanessa and the Amazons, something about her was just so captivating, even when sitting down and cheering Brooke was still impressed: “We’re bad, we got the T, we can’t be had, we’re the best so score them points, you win the game we’ll rock this joint. Go Amazons!”  Brooke tried her hardest to mimic Vanessa’s cheer, even throwing an arabesque in at the end, but she knew her voice wasn’t as loud or commanding as it should have been. “I transferred from a Ballet Academy in Toronto, your school has no other type of dance and it’s a last resort. I haven’t cheered before but I can learn. I checked out your stuff online, it’s good but you need to be different to become number one, you could use me,” Brooke pleaded her case to the girl, trying not to let her emotions cloud over too much, she knew Vanessa would not allow a weak player onto the team. “Do it,” Silky nudged Vanessa to which the girl looked up in response. “Front handspring, step out, round off. Back handspring, step out, round off. Back handspring, full twisting layout,” Vanessa popped the “t” in layout with a devilish smile, raising her brow at Brooke.  Simultaneously angry and aroused towards the other girl, Brooke waltzed to the back of the gym, keeping her arms elegantly draped by her sides. The whole room was silent other than the light patter of Brooke’s footsteps. The tension knife worthy, she turned to face the panel and dived - hitting every single step perfectly. Landing eventually close to the table and facing the opposite way she turned around to see Vanessa’s mouth open with surprise. Despite the other girls hollering and cheering at her, Brooke found the most pride in the response from Vanessa, knowing it took a lot to impress the commander of the squad. She had broken through her hard exterior, only just. Despite that breakthrough simply being a small opening of the mouth, it still validated Brooke nonetheless, she was on her way to impressing the ice queen. One count at a time. “Brooke is bank!” One of the boys at the end of the table grinned towards Brooke. “Bankrupt,” Vanessa retaliated, giving the boy one of her infamous looks. “I’m captain and what I say goes. This is not a democracy. Sorry, Brooke Lynn, I don’t think you have what it takes. Maybe next time.” For years Brooke had learned how to take defeat. You smile, you thank for the opportunity, you say goodbye and exit with grace. In her old life, she’d done it hundreds of times with no issue, knowing that it was just another bend in the road. All of that was gone here. Fighting back tears she grabbed her bag from the floor and stormed out the gym - the antithesis of graceful and pristine. Vanessa’s words ringing in her ear, she hadn’t even noticed that Jovan was at the doorway until he grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side. “I told you so?” Brooke said to him with choked breath, wishing she’d stayed away from the cheerleaders as Jovan had warned. “We’ve all been there B, you ever wondered why I hate them so much? You’d think being double jointed in almost every way would get me on their squad but it didn’t. And here I am saying I want nothing to do with it yet unable to resist watching. Trust me though, you killed it. They’ll be regretting not having you when they’re still coming second at nationals. They’re just jealous Brooke. Stupid bitches,” he responded, Brooke, surprised at the nice words towards her coming out of his usual cynical tirades.  Used to bottling her feelings, Brooke let the tears fall down her cheeks as she hugged her new friend, grateful to have someone there for her. “What do you say we go to mine, watch sad movies and get pissed again? My parents are out of town” he asked her.  “Your sister..” Brooke looked at him in response. “In case you haven’t already noticed, I don’t give a fuck what she thinks.” Jovan laughed, “I promise we’ll stay well clear of her.” “Only if I pick the film,” Brooke propositioned, “I’m not watching any of the weird shit you have on DVD.” “Deal,” Jovan raised his hand for Brooke to shake whilst laughing.  Fuck Vanessa, she thought, maybe her night wouldn’t be so bad after all.  *** “I’m sorry, girl. If I had known..” Jovan trailed off, the loud music being played downstairs filling what would have been an awkward silence in the room. “It’s fine,” Brooke said taking a heftier sip from her drink until it was all gone, “I had to face them at some point, better sooner than later I guess.” Having been drinking since they returned home from school that day, it was safe to say that the pair were slightly steamed.  “It’s my fault, I should have known that obnoxious popular teenagers and a free house meant a party. Would it make you feel better if we tried to steal some of their booze?” The tipsy and confident Brooke she had met at the start of the week returning, she smiled at Jovan in response, “Yes. Yes, it would.” Making their way downstairs, Brooke knew they’d be unable to avoid Vanessa. Despite being so horrible earlier, in her current state Brooke wanted to see her, to look her in the eyes and see how she reacted. Jovan was right, Brooke had killed it in her tryout and if Vanessa couldn’t see that then she was a stupid bitch. Walking into the kitchen where she’d encountered the girl the last time she was here, Brooke was determined to rise above whatever may be said as she made her way to the fridge. “Vanjie, who’s the babe with your step-brother?” Vanessa’s boyfriend asked non-subtly, despite having already met Brooke on the previous Monday. The couple sat on a red couch in the corner surrounded by the rest of the cheer squad and some other students Assumedly on a similar level to Jovan and Brooke with a drink in her hand, Vanessa looked at the pair and responded: “She’s nobody, just some transfer who thinks she’s hot shit.” Sticking with her mantra to rise above it, Brooke looked in Vanessa’s direction and was all set on ignoring the couple until Jovan turned around and rose his voice towards his sister, the alcohol in his system leaving him clearly incapable of holding back. “Hey Vanessa, has anyone ever told you that you’re jealous? You’re all about team spirit and being number one but you know fine and well that you’d rather lose every competition than have someone that slightly better than you on your squad. So what is it about Brooke? She’s prettier, she’s more polished, she’s stronger?” Despite being tipsy, Brooke could see the flinch of pain Vanessa had felt at her brother’s words before she reverted back to her usual sense and laughed at his comment, brushing it off as if it were nothing in front of all of her squad.  “It’s more to do with the fact she can’t cheer,” Vanessa retaliated harshly, Brooke seeing the pain behind her glossy eyes and gritted teeth as she did so. “Sorry guys, I guess it’s time for everyone to go, can’t seem to have any fun around here without people ruining it. I’ll see you lot for practice on Sunday.” *** “Jovan, you didn’t have to do that,” Brooke said to her friend as his sister escorted the rest of the guests out of the house. “Someone needs to put her in her place, Brooke. All I did was be honest,” he sighed as his sister entered the room again.  Gone was the calm exterior she had held previously in front of everyone, Vanessa was mad. “I thought I told everyone to leave,” she glared in Brooke’s direction, resulting in a scoff from her brother. Not wanting to cause any more trouble, Brooke grabbed her bag and went to get up before being stopped by Jovan. “You don’t own this house Vanessa; and anything you want to say to me you can say in front of Brooke. I’m sorry you have a problem with my honesty.” The tension radiating between them, Brooke was waiting for the storm - despite wanting to hide from the clash of two huge personalities, she found herself glued to the spot she stood in, unable to look away from the pair as though they were the wreckage of a car crash. “I don’t have an issue with your ‘honesty’, but if you have an issue with me you can pull me aside and tell me you don’t have to pop off at me in front of my whole team. I thought we were closer than that,” “I did not pop off at you, I told you the goddamn truth. You’re so defensive, and that’s the only reason I pushed any of your buttons in the first place” “You’re so full of shit Jovan. The other day there you were telling me how proud you were of me!” Vanessa was screaming at this point, her voice hoarse and tears pricking her eyes. Every face Jovan had pulled when Brooke mentioned the cheerleaders to him, every awkward encounter she had witnessed between the siblings had all amounted to this moment.  “Because I was fucking proud of you,” Jovan shouted back at his sister.  “It’s not my fault you never made it onto the squad Jovan, it’s been years just get over it. You knew at the time there was nothing I could do, I wasn’t gonna give up my chance to please you when all you do is shit like this,” “I don’t give a shit that I didn’t make it onto the squad with you 2 fucking years ago Vanessa, but you’ve turned into that person who did that to me and now you’re doing it to Brooke. Yes, I was fucking proud of you working hard to be a captain but not if you’re gonna let your jealousy take over.” Clearly striking a chord with Vanessa, she got closer into her brothers face. Coming from such a humble background and life in Toronto she didn’t know how to react to the current situation at all. Any fighting Brooke had witnessed in the ballet world had been behind the scenes and sneaky, the complete opposite at the screaming match the siblings were having in front of her, with years of anger and non-raised issues clearly seeping through the surface of their words. “Regardless of what you think, I would have never have spoken to you like that in front of people who are meant to respect you like you just did on the couch! I would have pulled you aside and said ‘Jovan you’re fucking jealous”” Vanessa shouted again, the argument between the two siblings being clearly deeper rooted than insecurity about her position of power on the Amazons. “Well, I think you’re a fucking terrible sister because I’m not here to hide around away from you and whisper shit in your direction. You can yell at me when I leave high school with a fucking good life because I didn’t spend my whole time there trying to impress people who won’t give a shit about me in a few years time,” Jovan started to walk away from Vanessa, knocking over a chair in the process. “I was trying to be cordial with you,” “I don’t need anyone to be cordial with me, I need you to be real. At least I’m getting the real you now, ey sis.” “I thought we were fucking cool Jovan,” Vanessa let her emotions pour out, Brooke shocked at the girl she’d barely seen move her face in a week losing any sense of her priorly cold exterior. Vanessa was a real human being and she was hurt. “If we’re cool, I’m not gonna lie to you like all your teammates do. I’m not gonna feed you with bullshit like those ‘sisters’ do, is that what makes you happy?” “I never told you to lie to me!” Vanessa gave one last final scream at her brother, her voice minutes from breaking, before running out of the room. Although she hadn’t known her for long, Brooke could see she was coming from a hurt place. The click of the front door shutting rang through the suddenly silent house.  “Fuck,” Jovan shouted to himself before kicking the chair that had been knocked on the floor, a lot of pent up anger from years of his relationship with his step-sister having just spilt out of him like a tap too tight to turn off.  Adjusting to the way in which the room had gone from 100 to 0 in less than a minute, Brooke was about to comfort her friend like he had done for her earlier when he stopped her, “It’s freezing outside,” he looked to the floor, not making eye contact with Brooke. “You should go find her,” Brooke suggested. “She won’t talk to me, and if I’m honest I don’t want to talk to her either, I just don’t want her to freeze,” Jovan laughed in a slightly hysterical way. The way you laughed when everything you felt had been torn out of you and your body couldn’t comprehend any other way in which to react. All that was left to do in the sick silence was to laugh. “I’ll go find her,” Brooke said, any prior anger she felt towards Vanessa melted away by the scene she just watched unfold. “Thanks,” he said, curling his knees up to his chest and rubbing his hands over his shaved head clearly trying to process what had just happened. *** Clad in one of Jovan’s fleecy coats with another one in hand for his sister, it didn’t take Brooke long to find the other girl. There she was curled up on a bench by the park close to her home, hands running through her hair. Despite the argument, they had had and the fact that they shared no blood, it was clear she and Jovan were related. “Hey,” Brooke sat next to her, unsure of what else to say. “I brought you a coat.” “I’m fine,” Vanessa spoke quietly and looked straight ahead, not making eye contact Brooke. “You’re stubborn aren’t you,” Brooke rested the coat on the other girls back. “You don’t know me,” she whispered again, Brooke seeing a different side to both the Vanessa she had watched at school for the past week and the one she’d watched not more than half an hour earlier in the kitchen. “I know you’re upset, and I know it’s freezing out here.”  Garnering no response from the girl, Brooke spoke again, “If you’re not gonna speak to me it’s fine but I’m not leaving you alone like this, I can ring your boyfriend if you want?” In a similar way to how Jovan had done so earlier in the calm after the storm, Vanessa began to laugh to herself as though her body had no other way of processing the events of the night. “It’s Friday so he’ll probably be at Ariel’s, or is it Kahanna’s on a Friday, I can never keep up.” “Well he clearly doesn’t deserve you but maybe that’s something for another time,” Brooke looked at the girl, not wanting to scare her away by prying too deep into her life. She had already seen such a vulnerable side to someone so guarded and didn’t want to intrude even further. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’m a big girl, I’ve got this,” she raised her eyebrows towards Brooke, looking at her for the first time since she had sat down. “Well I don’t really believe you so I’m just gonna stay here until you’re alright,” Brooke said. “You don’t have to babysit me for my brother, I’m fine.” Vanessa pleaded. “I’m not,” Brooke responded, which was true, although Jovan had asked her to find his sister she genuinely wanted to make sure the girl was okay after seeing her in such a vulnerable state. Pulling a bottle of water from her pocket, she offered some to the girl. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough for one night,” “It’s water,” Brooke laughed, causing Vanessa to crack up too. Within minutes they were both dying with laughter and even though Brooke knew objectively that it wasn’t really funny, something about the atmosphere in the air and the whole fucked up night they’d had just made the girls laugh more and more. Until of course Vanessa was no longer laughing, tears once again streaming down her face the way they had when she argued with her brother. Brooke put her arm around the girl and rubbed her back softly.  “It’s alright,” she whispered. “Why are you being so nice to me? I’ve been a bitch” Vanessa asked, turning to look at Brooke. She was a deer in headlights. A lost puppy looking for comfort. “As much as I’d love to give some sort of poetic answer like they do in the movies, I don’t have a fucking clue,” Brooke looked up at the night sky. She hadn’t known what to expect when picturing her new life in Florida but it certainly hadn’t been trying out for cheerleading, befriending a double jointed oddball and sitting on a bench at midnight comforting a girl who had treated her worse than muck. A girl may she add that she probably would have kissed were she not in such a vulnerable state.  “I don’t have a fucking clue, Vanessa.”

[beesmygod]

this is what riverdale is about (part 6)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

and now...we come to the end of our journey...the final 4 episodes of the season. who killed jason blossom? you forgot that’s what we were doing, huh. you  were way too distracted by sex archie and the jughead/betty relationship (called ‘bughead’ in universe). 

i have a friend who has been watching riverdale because i have basically tricked him into doing so and frankly, what i am typing here was and is only the surface of this show’s nonsense. as he watched episodes, he reminds me of all the completely bananas shit that this show throws at you literally every second it is on screen and honestly its a relief to know that, as much as i can try to just give you some basic facts, watching the show itself is still a totally different transcendent experience. its really the only show of its kind; shamelessly stupid but unaware of it while openly delighting in all the silliest cliches presented as straight faced as possible. if these write up do anything for you at all, please, please. watch the show. you will be shocked at how much more there is to discover.

images are from the riverdale wiki

---

SEASON 1 (PART 4): 

the lost weekend: this is the one with a very special guest star in it: molly ringwald as archie’s mom! she and fred (luke perry) have been separated for some amount of time for an unknown reason. yay she’s so cute! i love her. oh uh, also they’re getting a divorce. the papers are going through. archie gets the bad news in the middle of a gaming sesh with jughead.

meanwhile, veronica meets with her dad’s lawyer (whose name is paul sowerberry?? he never shows up again despite his unbelievably silly name) and tells him she’s not giving him a good statement as to her father’s character to help him get a lesser sentence. “fuck you dad!” is the general sentiment before she stomps out to go to school.

oh man there’s a weird aspect of this show that i have neglected to mention. this isn’t something i’ve ever experienced in school so it was totally foreign and weird to me but the students have their own lounge that they mingle and talk in...at...some point during the school day?? jughead’s opening monologue of this episode makes great pains to talk about how every moment of their lives are scheduled from 8am to 3pm but there’s apparently plenty of sittin’ time where they can just laze about this random room talking about crimes they have or are going to commit. a great deal of talking happens in this room when usually you’d have to like, sneak a convo while getting shit out of your locker between classes. i dunno, it’s weird. this is where archie tells veronica about clifford blossom sending her dad to jail so he can jack the land everyone is fighting over.

archie and betty make plans to celebrate jugheads birthday by taking him to the movies, which i feel like is in poor taste given his movie house was just destroyed but whatever. with betty coming along it’ll be just like the three muskateers! betty replies “AcTuAlLy ThErE wErE fOuR mUsKeTeErS” and somehow he doesn’t beat her to death with his bookbag right there and then. betty then doubles down on the bad words flowing out of her mouth and proposes they hold a surprise party for jughead since, according to his dad, he’s never had one. i have no idea what would compel her to think he would want this. even i know he doesn’t want this and i only know him through a tv screen. on top of this she goes out of her way to invite his deadbeat alcoholic dad multiple times. i thought she was supposed to be the smart, observant nancy drew type but like...what the fuck betty. jughead does, in fact, get pretty pissed at archie just for telling his girlfriend that he even has a birthday. presumably instead of telling him he emerged fully formed from the leader of the black parade’s forehead.

after finding out from some files that her dad was receiving money monthly from clifford blossom for some unspecified reason before the arrest, veronica challenges cheryl to a dance off and wins. unfortunately, veronica cant come forward with what she knows because it would make it look like her dad put a hit out on jason in retaliation. dance off to relieve the pain.

jughead fucking hates his party and makes sure everyone knows it. this is something NORMAL people do and he is NOT normal!!! he leaves the party in a huff when cheryl shows up to get her dance off revenge by ruining the party by inviting the whole school. this is the episode where he does his famous “im a weirdo, i have a hat” speech, which is deliciously dumb. they get in a fight, while jughead’s dad talks to kevin’s boyfriend (who you will remember is a member of his gang he assigned to keep tabs on the progress of the teens looking into the whole land plot mess) while betty’s mom secretly listens in?!

cheryl activates chaos mode and locks everyone in the house so they can play a game called “secrets and sins” which is really just an excuse for her to ask everyone horrible questions to make them feel bad. veronica accuses cheryl of fucking her brother, dilton doiley tells everyone about grundy’s statutory rape of archie andrews and chuck tells everyone about dark mode betty drugging him for an impromptu bdsm session which causes jughead to go apeshit and try to throw a weak little baby punch. jughead’s dad, as the only adult who for some reason let all this happen, finally throws everyone out and tells them to go home.

archie and veronica sleep together, by which i mean, next to each other in the same room. veronica testifies on her father’s behalf and discloses to betty the link between jugheads dad and the serpents and her dad’s land plot dreams. molly ringwald appears for 20 seconds.

INHALES. OKAY.

to riverdale and back again: its homecoming babey! archie’s very supportive mother has a nice talk with him. :) veronica founds out that her dad only has to serve “a few more months” in prison for his various white collar crimes, further proof that riverdale takes place in america. jughead and his dad have a nice normal breakfast while fp sweats and asks him “hey uh, how come uh you’re writing about the uhhhh murder and investigating it and stuff” like a normal dad would. archie and veronica tentatively agree to start going out. 

penelopy blossom brings polly (betty’s pregnant sister, remember her? i didn’t) a strawberry milkshake in the most ominous way possible. veronica plans to sneakily find out if jughead’s dad is helping her own and for what purpose, ultimately. jughead accepts and invite to betty’s house for dinner, not knowing her mom is going to grill the shit out of him and his dad over the whole kid murder thing.

polly finds the ring jason proposed to her with back in penelope’s room while snooping, and has no idea how it wound up back in the hands of his mother. according to penelope, jason threw it in their face when he renounced his lineage, then gives her another milkshake.

the cooper family event is disrupted when betty, wise to her mother’s horseshit, invites her estranged dad to dinner too. all hell breaks loose when the subject of homecoming comes up and fp reveals that while alice and hal were crowned homecoming king and queen, they got in a knockout, drag-out fight backstage. alice flips out before he can reveal what it was about and betty and jughead flee for the dance. meanwhile archie and veronica try, and fail, to find something incriminating in fp’s trailer.

cheryl discovers the milkshakes are DRUGGED and polly is going to sleep through homecoming. she informs her parents that she has disposed of the ring (evidence) and they dont have to worry about it anymore. you can see where this is going.

jughead’s dad drops a bomb on him right before homecoming that they’re going to move to toledo to meet up with jughead’s mom and baby sister. jughead hates this bc he just got used to betty and he wants to write his murder book.

archie and veronica sing a truly terrible cover of “kids in america” that has to be seen to be believed.

meanwhile, sherrif keller tears up fp’s house with a search warrant and finds the gun that was used to kill jason blossom. WHAAAA??? BUT ARCHIE AND VERONICA JUST SEARCHED IT??? how could this happen.....jughead finds out about the web of deception weaved by the friends and tells them all to fuck off so he can go to toledo with his family. jughead literally turns around and is informed that his dad was just arrested for murder. his life is so hilariously bad.

the sheriff sucks so bad at his job because he tells his gay son everything who then spills the beans to archie and co (sans jughead) who learn that fp is being framed, because they already tossed the place before.

cheryl has the ring. at this point none of these things mean anything.

i cant believe i still have two more of these. i’m going to have to split this post after this one.

anatomy of a murder: as it turns out, archie discovers, information you discover during a breaking and entering won’t hold up in court. oops. meanwhile fp inexplicably confesses to kidnapping jason after his fake drowning at sweetwater river so he could use him as ransom after discovering he heir to all that sweet maple syrup money. according to fp, jason nearly escaped so they cut their losses and blasted a hole in him. he also confesses to torching the car and stealing the sheriff's files (which we, the audience, know hal cooper did, not fp). well. that’s that, i guess.

betty’s dad comes back to the family home to destroy the murderboard evidence all like “whoo hoo! fp took a bullet for me!” hal’s concern and his reason for stealing the files in the first place, as it turns out, was because the feud between the coopers and the blossoms is more complicated than we thought. the coopers WERE blossoms, until grand-pappy was murdered, so they packed their shit and left with a new name. so that makes polly and jason related. cool!

fp apparently used his his last phone call to call kevin’s boyfriend who, after some pressing by the gang, admits that while he didnt see fp pull the trigger, he did help him put jason’s body in a freezer. this tip leads them to the corpse of a serpent who had a sack of money in a monogrammed dufflebag with the initials “h.l.” (hiram lodge). this is a comically dumb move for a crime boss to make. it is shockingly stupid.

joaquin tells kevin about a secret stash he and fp set up before he bounces from town forever because riverdale sucks. in the stash is jason’s jacket. everyone puzzles over what it means until betty, noted brain genius checks the pockets. in it they find a usb drive.

they sit down and watch the usb and react like they’re watching a sad documentary and not a snuff film. betty calls CHERYL OF ALL PEOPLE and tells her what they just saw on the usb. cheryl, queen of chaos, confronts her dad and tells him that everyone knows what he did.

it turns out the video depicts jason tied up in the basement of the whyte wyrm, there the dead serpent watches over him. clifford blossom walks in and blows a hole in his kid. fp confessed to protect jughead, who was threatened by cliff as the heat poured on.

clifford dies surrounded by his greatest love, maple syrup, by hanging himself in the syrup barn. lol

the sweet hereafter: how the fuck is there another episode of this? they solved the murder, what else could there possibly be to do. wtf. anyway.

the cops find hella drugs in the maple barn after clifford’s death. the assumed story is that jason learned about his dad’s heroin smuggling business and threatened to tell the cops on his dad which lead to his abduction, and eventual death. i guess the polly thing is in here too somehow. not important i guess. the lodges prepare for hiram’s arrival. betty and archie are going to be honored by the mayor for cracking the case at the 75th annual jubilee (wtf). hermoine attempts to buy fred out of the project now that the cops are cracking down on the serpents and making them the face of the construction company is now a very bad look.

betty tries to write an article for the town paper about fp being innocent but her parents wont publish it, citing it as a conflict of interest given she’s smooching the subject’s son. jughead FINALLY JUT NOW gets a social worker who realizes that fred has a dui and is not fit to care for a kid. he has to transfer to a new school district...SOUTHSIDE HIGH SCHOOL!!!

cheryl apologizes for throwing hands at jughead in a previous ep and gives him her iconic spider brooch. i am only bringing this up because she says, specifically, that selling it will net him a good amount of hamburgers and “s t-shirts” for years. why is she the only one who notices he only wears one kind of shirt. betty’s article getting published in the school paper leads to the above retaliation.

veronica’s mom honest to god asks her to sexually manipulate archie into convincing his dad to sell the project to her.

betty’s mom, after a confrontation, tells betty abt the fight she and her dad had on homecoming night when they were high schoolers. turns out...alice was pregnant. she gave the baby up for adoption after she went to the sisters of quiet mercy, like she did with polly, even though hal wanted an abortion. betty immediately tells all her friends this shit.

jughead transfers to the new high and flourishes. turns out they’re all baby gangsters there so they look at him and his dad as kings to be admired. when the archie group heads off to go rescue him, it turns out they dont need to do anything. but now that theyre all conveniently together, veronica gets a txt from cheryl saying she’s going to go be with jason....

they rush to the river where cheryl is having her ophelia meltdown in his stupid little river boat dress where she punches through the ice until she falls through. theres no way to describe how silly this scene is unless you see it so i won’t try but its so melodramatic and cheesy that youre going to be amazed that it got through the writing team at all. archie saves her by punching through the ice the other way. from under the ice. you will soon find, that all of archie’s solutions are to punch things.

betty does a speech at the jubilee that convinces fred not to sell. a nice ending for him.

meanwhile cheryl burns her fucking house down for a lark. just for the drama of it all. 

the same night, jughead and betty start to fuck, as do veronica and archie. not int he same room, like totally separately. but jughead is interrupted by the serpents and a dog named hotdog, who give him a jacket of his own so he can join the team. betty is scandalized.

archie goes to meet his father for a breakfast at pop’s chocklit shoppe for a serious talk. but while he’s int he bathroom, a man with a gun is holding up the chocklit shoppe. he demands fred’s wallet, then pops a hole in him and runs off.

and that.........is where this season......ends.

---

thank you for joining me for season 1 of this shitshow. i love this shitty show. if you loved reading about it, or were mortified by whatever the fuck happened here, then you should watch it as well.

i never pass up an opportunity to shill myself, so if you like what i write, drop me a buck or two at my patreon. i do more writing like this, but also i mostly make comics, so make sure to read the page when you’re signing up so you know what you’re getting!

i WILL return...with season...2!

https://www.patreon.com/aghoststory

[razieltwelve]

Backup (Legend of Korra AU Snippet)

Asami dove behind the boulder and winced. Her motorcade had come under attack on the way to one of her research facilities, and most of her security team was either injured, dead, or engaged in pitched battle. They were doing their best, but the odds did not look good. Whoever was responsible for the attack had not only done their homework but had also hired more than enough people for the job.

A cry of pain drew her attention. Hunched behind another boulder was a member of her security team. The young woman, Hana, was a firebender of considerable skill, but she was barely conscious. The front of her tunic was stained red, and she was having trouble staying on her feet.

“Ma’am…”

“Do not move,” Asami ordered. “Stay where you are. You’re in no condition to fight.” She peeked around the boulder. The training she’d done with Ty Lee on chi blocking would come in handy if she could get close enough to use it, but her attackers had wisely chosen to bombard the area with bolts of lightning and fire and blasts of water. At least, her security team had managed to disable the earth benders. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have any cover whatsoever. “I’ve already sent a message out. Help should be here shortly…”

Asami trailed off as a colossal bolt of lightning crackled through the air and struck a clump of would-be assassins. The resulting explosion sent rock and bodies flying every which way, and the thunder that rolled past was deafeningly loud.

Looking in the direction the lightning had come from, Asami’s eyes widened. Ty Lee was driving a Satomobile with the roof down, and standing up in the back seat, arms already moving to unleash another titanic bolt of lightning was Azula.

“Is that…” Hana blinked. “Azula of the Blue Fire?”

Asami took a moment to reply. It seemed like Azula had dozens of different nicknames, some more gruesome than others. There were still places that referred to her as the Burning Butcher. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

As Azula unleashed another bolt of lightning, Asami sprang into motion and signalled for the rest of her security team to strike. Azula was such a tremendous threat that the remaining attackers would have no choice but to focus on her, which should give Asami and her security team the edge they needed.

Ty Lee swung the Satomobile around and brake sharply, flinging Azula out of the vehicle. The old woman used a blast of fire to carry herself into the air, spinning several times before landing almost lazily on one of the larger boulders that dotted the area. 

“Good evening,” Azula said, smiling ever so brightly. “Surrender or die.”

The first reply came from the enemy firebenders. Blasts of flame and electricity raced her way, and Azula batted them aside with contemptuous easy. Asami almost laughed. Were they seriously trying to use firebending against Azula? As powerful as Korra had become, the Avatar had admitted to Asami that Azula was still better than her when it came to pure firebending prowess.

As the flames and lighting died, Azula gestured with one hand, a sharp, cutting stroke. A crescent of blue flame arced out, so bright it hurt to look at. Cutting with fire was an incredibly difficult thing to do, but Azula was a master of it. Those caught in the attack were cut in half, and even stone proved little impediment to the technique. 

A tide of water rushed toward the old firebender courtesy of the enemy waterbenders, and Azula stamped one foot and then thrust both arms out. The water became steam that scattered wildly in all directions. It was heatbending performed with incredible speed and power. An instant later, Azula retaliated with a cloud of blue fire that enveloped half the battlefield. Asami caught sight of people screaming and trying to flee while others simply burned, incinerated by the sheer heat of the attack.

“I’ll leave the rest to you,” Azula drawled, golden gaze finding Asami. “Since it would be prudent to leave some of them alive.”

Asami nodded sharply. Azula had scattered the enemy forces. It was up to her and her security team to do the rest. She ducked under a bolt of flame and flipped, landing a hard kick onto the shoulder of her opponent. Bone snapped, and she twisted to strike several points on his body. He slumped to the ground, immobilised and unable to bend.

“Not bad.” Asami blinked. At some point, Ty Lee had appeared beside her. The old woman had a cheerful smile on her face. “Your practice is definitely paying off.”

“Uh… thank you.” Asami stared at Ty Lee calmly paralysed an opponent before catching an icy dagger out of the air and tossing it back at the waterbender who’d thrown it. The bender gave a startled yelped and ducked, only for Ty Lee to close the gap and strike. 

Asami shook herself. She needed to stay focused. Another opponent stumbled out of the smoke left by Azula’s last attack, and Asami drove one fist into her sternum and then tossed her over her shoulder. The woman hit the ground hard, and Asami kept her hold on the woman’s arm as she gave her a stout kick in the head. It wasn’t elegant, but it was effective.

Another bender lashed out, and Asami twisted away from a bolt of lightning, the attack so close, her hair stood on end. Like most firebenders, he was a little slow to recover after throwing lightning, and Asami darted forward, sweeping his legs out from under him before rendering him unconscious with a few precise strikes.

Around her, her security teams was having similar success, and the battle swiftly came to an end. Once she was certain everyone was being tended to - she made a point of having waterbenders who could heal on her security team - Asami went over to talk to Azula.

“Thank you for your help.”

Azula nudged one of the corpses on its back. It was, or had been, a man. However, Azula’s fire had charred the body so badly it was difficult to be sure. “I was in the area, so I thought it prudent to respond.” She smiled thinly. “You have been making great strides in your technological research. There are certain groups that would love to steal it… or eliminate you to prevent it going any further. With Korra quite obviously involved in quelling the unrest in the Earth Kingdom, it’s no surprise that they decided to strike now. After all, as formidable as you are, Korra is somewhat more dangerous in a fight.”

Asami had to concede the point. In a large-scale battle, Korra was an absolute nightmare to deal with. “You’re not wrong. Do you know which group was responsible?”

“I have my suspicions, which we can confirm or disconfirm by interrogating some of the survivors.” Azula sighed. “I must say I’m disappointed. Some of these people have decades of experience, but they’re all so horribly boring to fight. Korra was better by the time she was fifteen.”

“Your standards are a bit higher than most people’s,” Asami pointed out. 

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Azula raised one hand, and blue flames sprang to life, so hot that Asami almost took a step back. “It makes me wish I was younger.”

“Oh?”

“Korra might be the only firebender in the world who could, one day, give me a run for my money, but she’ll need at least a decade or two more experience first.” Azula chuckled. “Who knows if I’ll still be around then?” She lowered her hand, and the flames died down. “In any case, Ty Lee and I will accompany you to your research facility before we resume our mission.”

“You have a mission?” Asami asked.

Ty Lee appeared beside Asami. “Yep. We’re on mission: moonlit picnic!”

Azula sighed. “Ty Lee, please, at least try to let me keep a little of my mystique.”

“I think a moonlit picnic only adds to your mystique,” Ty Lee said, much to Azula’s consternation. “It’s actually really romantic, except sometimes Azula decides to set things on fire.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Her blue fire can make it look a little creepy sometimes.”

“I… I imagine so.” Asami knew better than to comment any further. “In any case, you’re welcome to come along.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Not everyone is a fan of technological progress, so it’s not surprising that Asami would be targeted. It is also considerably easier to go after her than Korra since Asami can’t level entire battlefields on her own. Of course, Asami isn’t helpless, but it is nice when help turns up.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon.

[imagine-loki]

Packless Monsters

TITLE: Packless Monsters CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 23/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a werewolf who ends up in the company of Loki in the Avenger’s tower after saving Pepper’s life RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

    “This is not proper first date etiquette, your highness,” you murmured as you moved over in your bed to make room for the Loki who was joining you.

    He paused. “Does that mean my presence is unwelcome, incorrigible cuddler?” he teased. While his words were teasing, you knew that the question was legitimate and he wouldn’t join you if he were truly unwelcome.

    You pulled the blankets back in invitation. “Get in before you let all of the warm out. And you better be wearing pants,” you replied, not bothering to open your eyes or turn to face him. He chuckled and joined you. You cuddled up next to him, enjoying the simple pleasure of falling asleep with a heartbeat next to yours and knowing your Loki was safe and happy in your arms.

    *

    The next week flew by. Every moment was filled with work, missions with the team, entertaining a Loki, lots of kisses with said Loki, and lessons. Lots and lots of lessons. Stark Industries was having a Christmas party that Saturday and you had to prepare for it. Formal gatherings weren’t exactly your forte, having grown up in the woods. Half the time it was a miracle you could function any better than the Asgardians in human society.

    So you spent a lot of time working with Nat (and surprisingly Loki) perfecting how to walk in heels and deal with stupid floor length dresses. You also had to learn how to dance, the only thing going for you on that front was the grace of the wolf, or else you’d be tripping over your feet as well as the heels and the long dress.

    “How on earth do you know how to dance in heels?” you grumbled at Loki when he was helping you one afternoon, wearing heels with way more grace than you’d ever managed.

    “Practice, darling,” he replied with a mischievous secretive smirk and guided you again through the steps. He did take pity on you and danced with you as the male lead instead of guiding you. That was way more enjoyable. He was an excellent lead and you felt far less stupid dancing with him than trying the steps on your own.

    You also learned how to hide weapons in women’s formal wear. The men were all even more impressed with and terrified of Nat when they saw how many weapons she could hide under a slinky dress. You also practiced fighting in the dress. Nat taught you a whole bunch of other things she thought were useful.

    *

    Stark Industries was closed the day of the Christmas party so every employee could attend. Since you didn’t have to work (and still got paid for it!) you could enjoy a nice leisurely Saturday of attacking all of your housemates with Nerf guns. This extremely leisurely activity somehow ended up with everyone outside in a huge snowball war. No one quite knew how that happened.

    Everyone laughed while looking equally impressed and terrified when you landed a snowball right in the middle of Loki’s face. He growled as the snow made his face turn the blue of his Jotun form and whirled on you. You eeped and ran when he started forward in retaliation. The chase was on. You were fast, but so was he. You ducked and dodged between the other combatants, but he was gaining on you. In a move you wouldn’t have been able to do a couple of months ago, you change from human to wolf between one stride and the next and took off with your much longer stride, kicking up snow into everyone’s faces.

    “Cheating puppy,” Loki snarled. You turned at the last moment and ran straight for him, getting back to full speed in a moment, barreling into him, knocking his legs out from under him, dumping him in a snowbank. You barked in wolfish laughter as he sputtered and snarled, completely blue now, the snow forcing his Jotun form. “I am so going to get you for this,” he snarled, but had laughter in his voice.

    You barked in laughter again, but it was cut short with a yelp of surprise and a touch of fear when Loki’s black wolf leapt out of the snowbank. It wasn’t the real fear of actual danger, but the fun fear like of a haunted house where you knew you weren’t really going to be hurt.

    You turned and fled, barreling into the team and dumping them all in the snow, creating obstacles for Loki to go around or over as he chased you. You could have evaded him had Thor not decided to jump in to help his brother. He got in your way and slowed you down, swinging Mjolnir so you had to skid to a halt to avoid it. Loki caught up and tackled you. You both went toppling into the snow, rolling head over tail.

    You were at two distinct disadavantages in this battle: you couldn’t risk biting or scratching him, and he was bigger and stronger than you were. It was a valiant effort, but he got you pinned on your back, unable to squirm out from under him. You leaned up and licked his cheek, accepting defeat. He snarled and you realized that he hadn’t learned how to tell when the game was over, not in wolf form. So you leaned your head back, baring your throat. He still didn’t get it and clamped his jaws over your throat. His teeth were barely touching you, he was in control and playing still. He just didn’t know where the game ended. Damn, shit, double damn.

    You closed your eyes and concentrated to shift back to human. It took a moment and more energy and effort that you’d like to admit. That part would take more than a couple months of practice to fix, but you managed, lying on your back naked in the snow under the shielded by the snarling wolf. “Yield! I yield!” you panted. Suddenly, he was back in his normal form, grinning. You were in his arms a moment later, and an instant after that had been dumped rather unceremoniously into the biggest snowbank there was. The snowbank also hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. You shrieked at the cold and the snow. “Loki!!” Loki chuckled and his cloak came flying into the snowbank after you. You had to work to dig your way out of the snow. Seriously, how big was this stupid snowbank? Loki finally helped you out of the snowbank once his cloak was wrapped around you. You were both panting and roaring in laughter once you were free of the snow.

    With a smirk at Loki, you made one last snowball to lob directly into Thor’s face. Loki laughed and hurled one at his brother too. “Brother! I helped you!” Thor complained. “You have betrayed me!” you roared in laughter.

    “Are you honestly surprised, brother?” Loki replied. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders while the entire team was laughing at your antics.

    *

    That evening the team headed down the elevator together to the waiting limo to go to the party. You had your hand on Loki’s arm and he escorted you to the limo. Tony was escorting Pepper and Clint had offered Nat his arm. Everyone piled carefully into the limo and you were excited for the night out in everyone in fancy dress. It seemed like such fun.

    Camera crews and reporters were outside of the ballroom and took pictures and video of you all. “What are you wearing?!” they called loudly to your group.

    You and Loki both looked down at your outfits. “I am wearing a dress!” “I am wearing a suit!” you both replied at the same time and burst into laughter at the stunned expressions on the reporters faces. That was apparently not the answer they were looking for.

    As soon as you stepped into the building, Tony grabbed your arm and gestured above your head. You groaned and rolled your eyes at the mistletoe above your head. “C’mon Y/N, you know the rules,” Tony teased.

    “Sorry, Lo. It’s the rules,” You grabbed Loki’s tie and pulled him down to kiss you under the mistletoe. He was shocked, but submitted willingly to the kiss.

    “I think I like those flowers,” he smirked at you when you let go of his tie and the kiss broke. You giggled at his silliness. Unfortunately the picture of that kiss ended up quite popular by the press. Oops.

    You smelled wolves as soon as you stepped into the ballroom. You turned slowly, trying to find them, and waved when you saw Joshua and Sarai. Tony had invited them to the party too. Happy was watching their boys. He was so thrilled to be babysitting werewolf puppies.

    The evening was as fun as you’d hoped. The food was delicious, and you got to dance with Loki. Thor also claimed a dance, though Loki looked like he was going to stab his brother for stealing you away. To get back at him, Loki danced with Thor’s friend Jane. Neither boy knew what to do when Jane got fed up with their testosterone and claimed you for the next dance. It was nice to be out with the team socializing instead of fighting mutants, monsters, and Hydra agents.

    The evening was going wonderfully until you smelled another wolf, just the barest hint of him, but it was enough. You stiffened and clutched Loki’s hand tighter. The two of you had been on your way to get something to drink. “What is it?” he asked, looking for whatever had gotten your attention.

    “Jareth,” you hissed, glaring that he was here and interrupting your evening and life.

    “He’s here?” Loki whispered, his voice a growl and you saw the shimmer around the dagger in his free hand. It was invisible to the general crowd. Thor must have seen the shimmer of magic, since you saw him look over to see what was going on.

    You nodded, trying to scan the crowd for him. There were too many people and your nose was confused by the scents of the humans and their stupid perfume and colognes. Why did they have to mask their scents with the horrible stuff? “He has to be in human form. He probably snuck into the party. Shit. Whatever happens. Do not let go of my hand,”

    “Why?” Loki asked, but gripped your hand more securely in his. He trusted what you said about werewolves, but that didn’t stop his curiosity.

    “There you are, mate,” Jareth’s voice came from behind you. You whirled, drawing Loki around with you, refusing to drop his hand. You knew better and knew the consequence if you lost contact with him.

    “I am not your mate,” you snarled at him, your free hand automatically going to the dagger sheath at your side, thanks to hours of training with Nat the reaction was automatic.

    “I invoke the Silence,” Jareth said pleasantly. Smug bastard. At least you’d known it was coming. “Parlay, mate,” he added, equally pleasantly. You growled, fingers itching for the hilt of the dagger. “Accept the niceties, my pet. You don’t want to fight me, not in this room full of innocents,” Jareth indicated the room full of humans who didn’t seem to see or hear your conversation or the fight that was moments from happening.

    “Parlay,” you finally agreed, holding your hand out where he could see it was empty.

    “And your… human?” he asked, looking at Loki.

    “I speak for him,” you said quickly, not bothering to correct Jareth’s misconception. You were, however, going to try to keep Jareth from trying to force Loki out of the parlay. “Lo, drop the dagger. He can smell it. This isn’t the time to kill him. Yet.” The dagger vanished from Loki’s hand. “Why are you here, Jerry?” you growled at Jareth.

    He snarled and growled at the name. He hated it, so you used it every chance you could. “I came to see my mate,” he was still trying to be pleasant. It was an effort, you could see it.

    “I. Am. Not. Your. Mate.” you snarled at him.

    He shrugged. “You will be. The arrangements have been made, Omega. And I’m benevolent and don’t even deny you your… dalliance while you’re away. It’s good that you’ll have some experience before you come to my bed. Though you should hurry up about that if it’s going to do you any good,” he taunted. You flushed. Damn werewolves. Of course he could smell exactly what you hadn’t done with Loki.

    “What I do and who I do it with are none of your business. I’m not marrying you, Jareth. I refuse,” you replied, wishing very much that you could walk right up to him and rip his balls off. You saw movement in the crowd and had some hope. There was help nearby.

    “You can’t escape, pet. Surely, you know that. The Alpha won’t let you stay to make it to five years. And what, then? Are you going to marry your human to get away from us? Even a hopeless defective Omega, a reject of a wolf like you wouldn’t sink to a false wedding to save your own skin. And your wolf won’t refuse me under the dark of Winter’s Moon, she won’t refuse me when we are wed. You’ll have power in the pack at my side, no longer a doormat of a bitch,” his voice could have been a sexy purr if he weren’t a creepy asshole. He also could have been attractive, again were he not an abusive creepy asshole.

    “Jareth, just leave me be. Why on earth would you even want to marry someone who hates you? Go find some simpering fool in the pack to marry. Woo a girl from a different pack. You can’t have me,” you snarled.

    “I cannot take over the pack until I have a mate. You know this, pet. I’ve chosen you, the so-called precious Omega, to stand by my side. Your kind is supposed to be a rarity, a status symbol. You’ll come to me, pet. Willing or no, you will be mine,” Jareth’s voice was trying to be pleasant, trying so very hard at it, but the mask of pleasantry had fallen away, displaying the monster beneath.

    “That is quite enough insults on my lady and her honor. It is not wise to anger a god, wolf,” Loki snarled and did exactly what you had told him not to. He dropped your hand and charged Jareth. Or he would have, had he not gotten sucked into the spell of the Silence the moment he let you go, stopping mid-stride, frozen in place. You grabbed his hand and hauled him back.

    “Loki, no. You can’t break parlay. You’ll get us both killed,” you told him firmly. You couldn’t win a fight under the influence of the Silence. “Jerry, I denied you on Winter’s Moon before, or did you forget where the scar on your face came from? If you touch me again, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat. I am not returning to the compound. I am not marrying you,”

    “You’ll change your tune, once you’re home, bitch,” Jareth snarled at you, breaking any pretense of being nice. “We won’t let a female wolf escape the pack. You know that. You’ll have to marry one of us, and I have already claimed you as mine. You have no say, just accept your fate now.”

    “I am not an object to be claimed,” you snarled at him. With a small squeeze on Loki’s hand as all the warning you could give him, you did something incredibly stupid. “Parlay is over,” you snarled and lunged, dragging Loki with you, both of you had daggers drawn. It took Loki less than a moment to join your lunging properly and aid your attack. His hand joined to yours didn’t seem to hamper his fighting skills any. Jareth fought with years of experience and the advantage. He had shifted his nails to claws, and you had to spend most of your energy keeping those claws from Loki. He wasn’t armored in his dress-suit. You fell into a natural strategy of defending Loki while he attacked Jareth.

    Loki actually managed to get a couple slices in before Sarai and Joshua joined you a moment later. Joshua was pulling Thor with him and Sarai had Tony. Jareth was surrounded by wolves and superheros, plus a herd of innocent humans who couldn’t see or hear the fight. Tony held up one of his repulsors while Thor held up Mjolnir. “Stand down, wolf,” Thor ordered. The fight paused. Jareth was surrounded by people who could and would hurt him.

    “This wolf belongs to us. You cannot keep her from the pack,” Jareth snarled at them, indicating you. “Sarai, stand down,” Jareth ordered her when he caught who she was. She shrank back, bowing her head, cringing away from him, but kept her hand firmly on Tony’s wrist. Even as she followed orders, she was helping you, despite the potential cost to her.

    You stepped forward, keeping Jareth’s attention on you before he could think to order Sarai to return to the compound, though she was relatively safe since she was married. “I refuse to return to the compound. I refuse to marry you, Jareth. Leave us now. You are not welcome here,” you snarled at him. He opened his mouth and you slashed your dagger viciously, cutting his face with your silver dagger right next to the last scar you’d left there. He jumped back straight into a bolt of lightning and a repulsor blast.

    “The pack will come for you, bitch. The day after graduation. That is Father’s word, and his will is the law of the pack. You will be mine, and you’ll learn to be a proper Omega when you are,” Jareth snarled his parting shot at you, scrambling to his feet and fleeing, outnumbered by your friends.

    When he was gone, escorted by security, the spell of the Silence was broken. You quickly sheathed your dagger and Loki vanished his. Sarai made a small noise and let go of Tony, rushing back to Joshua. You turned to Loki. “Are you alright? He didn’t get you did he?” you asked, looking over Loki for any signs of cuts or scratches.

    “I’m fine, little wolf,” he replied, pleased by your overly cautious concern. He pulled you to him, holding you safely in his arms. “We won’t let them take you from us,” he whispered against your hair. He held you safely while you tried to fight back the post battle emotions and the churning of feelings that Jareth brought with him. “Shh, love, it’s ok. You fought well. It’s alright. You’re safe, and loved and cherished with us,” Loki told you, running his hand down your back, holding you to him so you could breathe in his calming winter’s scent.

    “Why couldn’t we see or hear him?” Tony demanded. Cap came over, wondering what was going on. He only noticed once the Silence had ended.

    You stepped out of Loki’s arms. You would have to give the answers. Sarai was too distraught to answer. Poor submissive was having a bad reaction to Jareth’s presence and it was taking Joshua a lot of work to keep her calm. “Jareth invoked the spell of Silence. It’s a magic the werewolves have. It’s supposed to keep dominance battles from being heard by the humans, to keep them from finding out about the werewolves. Only the wolves can see and hear the events that occur within the spell. But if you’re in physical skin to skin contact with a wolf…”

    “That’s why we stopped being affected once Sarai and Joshua….” Tony looked over at them and opened his mouth.

    “She’ll be fine,” you reassured him quickly. “Bad reaction to the order from Jareth,” you explained while Joshua soothed his mate, calming her fears and memories with his presence.

    “You seem alright, Lady Wolf,” Thor commented carefully, really asking if you were ok.

    “I’ll be alright,” you answered. You wouldn’t lie to him, wouldn’t lie to your family. “C-can we go home?” you asked Loki in a small voice that gave away how off your emotions still were. Loki nodded and kissed the top of your head, reassuingly.

    “Of course, darling,” he replied softly. He slipped off his suit jacket and helped you put it on. “You’re shaking,” he added in a soft worried tone when you raised your eyebrow at him.

    “One of the cars is waiting just outside the back door. It’s the one you two usually drive. Jarvis drove it over,” Tony told you and Loki, gesturing to the door in question. “There shouldn’t be press back there, it opens onto a secured alley. Get the puppy home.” You glared at Tony, only Loki was allowed to call you a puppy. Usually anyway. Some of the others could get away with it if you were being particularly annoying.

    Loki led you straight to the car and settled you quickly in the passenger seat. You didn’t complain that he was driving as you were trying not to cry over stupid old emotions and the asshat that was Jareth. You held your emotions all the way back to Loki’s room before the tears started falling in ones and twos. You were suddenly in pajamas that smelled like him, surrounded by his safe, loving scent, and sobbed into his chest while he held you.

    “Shh, love, it’s alright. We’re home now, you’re safe and loved with your family here. We will never treat you like those assholes have. And we will never let them take you from us. You’re free to live your life and we will support any decision you make. And if you want to kill Jareth, I will gladly help, or stand as witness if you’d like to do the honor yourself, or present you with his still-beating heart on a platter if that would get you to smile again,” You couldn’t help giggling at that image. “I’ll do it, love. Say the word and I will return in a moment with his heart for you,”

    “Not tonight,” you told him softly. “Just…hold me tonight?” you asked softly.

    “Of course,” he kissed your forehead and got you settled in his bed, soon curled around you a protective presence at your back. He recited old stories from Asgard, myths and children’d tales until you fell asleep to dream of the distant world he called home.

[paladin-andric]

A Hero’s Welcome

Note: This is a repost/edit of a Jotober Story I wrote last year in October. I added an epilogue that was attached via reblog but I’d much rather just combine the two into one post. So without further ado, here is a tale of courage, honor and sacrifice...

The levy watched helplessly as the great tyrant approached. Flying from the horizon, the black dragon drew closer. The small, underequipped force were the only ones that had made it in time. Other detachments of the army would come in time, but not before the city was gone.

Behind the small army stood Erine, a large city in the east of Geralthin. It was still in the process of being evacuated. The black dragon had already destroyed several villages on the border. No one knew why this horrible beast was suddenly trying to slaughter everyone and everything, but that didn’t matter. If the army was defeated, all the people in the city would be killed, murdered by the beast.

And looking at their odds, that looked to be the result.

Captain Igan sighed. The commander of the small force, he knew his doom was approaching. The nobles and their mighty retinue armies were nowhere in sight. He, a commoner himself, was merely a commander of a garrison that had been nearby. With only a hundred men of spearmen and bowmen, all using low quality weapons and wearing leathers at best, victory seemed a distant fantasy.

The sky was a dark blue, the sun having set an hour ago. There were a few stars visible, but it was still early in the night. Several men throughout the lines held torches, illuminating the area around them…not that the dragon was particularly hard to miss. The moon was full as well, bathing the entire field in a dim light. Visibility could be worse.

The captain, one of very few lucky enough to be wearing a proper suit of armor, looked over his army. The men clutched their weapons tightly, fear and tension written on their faces.

He couldn’t risk them running away. Their chances of survival were slim enough as it was. He’d need every single last man to even have a shot at this. If everyone kept firing and stabbing…maybe something would hit the dragon in the eye eventually?

“Men!” Igan stood in front of the forces, sword in his hand. “Here, is where we stand! Here is where we live or die as free men of Geralthin! Here, is where we must turn the tide of darkness, or see our sons and daughters butchered, crushed beneath a tyrant’s heel…we MUST not fail!”

The desperation in his voice was apparent, making all listen carefully.

“We must not fail…if some of us die here it matters not…so long as Erine lives on! For if we fail, all is lost…the Royal Army will arrive to cinders, ruin, and the corpses of men, women and children, and YOU, my FINE soldiers…would NEVER let that happen!”

Many men cheered…though plenty didn’t. His little speech may have whipped up a few of the locals, but most of them knew they were as good as dead.

“Units…await my orders!” Igan stood beside the first line of spearmen, silently praying. Praying for something, anything.

A miracle.

As the dragon flew closer, a sudden shout rang out from the men. Igan whirled around as some soldiers in the back line began yelling.

Another figure was flying through the sky, with distinctly draconic features, yet…it was not a dragon. Not entirely.

It had the horns and scales, sure, but…it was the size of a man, and was covered in gleaming plate armor.

It was one of those damned, filthy halfbloods!

“Archers!”

The bowmen drew their arrows back, ready to fire and waiting on the order. As the dragonoid approached, its voice rang out.

“Hold your fire! I’m here to aid you!”

Surprisingly melodious. Igan shook the thought from his head as the creature landed. Now close to the captain, it was clear that this was indeed one of the half-dragons. Its scales were a bright white, and its plate was nearly as blindingly bright as well. It had a greatsword on its back, between its wings.

The captain snarled. “What the HELL do you think you’re doing?! This is a military operation and I will not tolerate vagabonds and trespassers!”

“I am Costinia, and I am a Paladin of the Order of God,” the dragonoid stated plainly, “I am here to offer my aid against the tyrant.”

The captain noted that Costinia was a girl’s name, the only identifier since that disgusting form made them all look the same.

Igan glared at the beast. He had no love for the creatures. They had only a portion of the dragons’ strength, yet just as much ego.

Ego. Arrogance. Foolhardiness. All things that led to disobeying orders. Disobeying orders got people killed, lost battles.

“This is an army. If you are joining, you are to obey me, your commander! Understand that, halfbreed?”

That final word, ‘halfbreed’…he had leaned forward and spat it in her face with vitriol…he made his loathing of her origins clear.

As one might expect from a paladin, she coolly ignored the hostility and maintained professionalism. She folded her hands behind her back and nodded. “Yessir.”

“Good. I will see none die from disorder. Seeing as you are likely the most skilled of the forces assembled I expect to see you in the front lines, in the thick of the fight at all times.”

“There is no place else on the field for a paladin, sir.”

“Excellent. Stand beside me in the spearwall!”

He had to admire her silent deferral to him, at least. She wasn’t as wild and arrogant as most halfbloods were.

We’ll see if she can resist her urge to play hero…

“So…you’re all? Where’s the rest of the church?”

“Still mobilizing. I just happened to be in the area.”

“Ah.”

It had been a long time since the dragon was spotted on the horizon, and now it was nearly upon them. As it approached, the mere shadow become more easily visible…and it was headed right for the army.

“ARCHERS, FIRE AT WILL!”

The spearmen lowered their spears and raised their shields as the bowmen began firing. Well over a hundred arrows flew over Igan’s head and toward the dragon.

Many of those arrows seemed to hit their mark, but had no noticeable effect. Many snapped and broken arrows fell in a shower to the grass below.

“Sir, I should engage!” Costinia shouted, holding her greatsword at the ready.

“Hold!” Igan yelled in response.

“I’m no use here! Let me distract him so you may open fire without worry!”

“I said HOLD!”

“You have the strength of Heaven at your side…let it loose on your foe!”

To hell with it.

“Fine! But if I regret this, you will be tried for treason!”

The dragonoid lowered herself.

“You won’t.”

With that, she launched into the air, soaring towards the black dragon, sword raised.

“DEFILER! YOUR REIGN OF TERROR ENDS HERE!” the dragonoid shrieked.

“Pathetic half-kin! I give you one chance to kneel before me!” the beast roared back.

Costinia replied by swinging her greatsword. A massive arch of magic flew forwards as she swung, the wave of power crashing into the dragon and making it roar out in pain.

Flapping her wings, the dragonoid readied herself for the beast’s retaliation. It came suddenly, a boiling wave of blackness washed over the dragonoid…

Just as he shook his head at her foolish arrogance, Igan’s eyes widened as the death magic dissipated…and she still remained.

“What?!” Igan and the dragon shouted in unison.

“It will take more than that, tyrant,” Costinia offered, swinging her sword and letting loose another wave of magic. Again, it battered the dragon, making him reel and cry out in rage.

“FALL, VERMIN!” the great beast roared out as he flew forward, missing as she evaded and slashed him across the stomach.

“ARCHERS! KEEP FIRING! SPEARMEN, MARCH!” Igan moved forward, eager to at least steal the dragon’s focus if his forces couldn’t actually harm it. The levies hesitantly joined, moving forward as hail of arrows flew toward the dragon. Once again, many hit the beast, but none seemed to do anything.

If Costinia weren’t here…

The captain watched as the half-dragon paladin and dragon fought, the smaller humanoid smoothy dodging several swipes sent her way. She landed a few hits, and though they did actually hurt the beast, he still seemed uninjured.

Their battle continued this way, with the dragonoid landing a few scrapes while avoiding harm, though she did at one point have to avoid a few stray arrows.

As the spearmen drew close, Igan wasn’t sure exactly what to do. Their spears would simply snap in half if they actually did manage to run up and stab the dragon while it was flying low.

“Spearmen, hold position! Shieldwall!”

Though he wanted to aid her, Costinia was the only one that could actually engage the beast. Perhaps some opening would present itself in time…

Seeing a hit she couldn’t avoid, the dragonoid only had a chance to tense up as the dragon’s claws came crashing down on her, sending her slamming into the grass below in a heap.

“Pathetic half-kin! Allow me to send you to your precious God!”

Captain Igan had to do something! If they lost her, this was all over!

“SPEARMEN! THROW YOUR SPEARS! NOW!”

In a moment, as the dragon readied itself to finish the paladin, hundreds of spears and arrows flew through the air, smacking into his flanks.

That seemed to do it. Without magical weaponry, it took enormous amounts of projectiles to even make them feel anything. He looked over at the army with such a hate-filled gaze that the captain actually shuddered reflexively.

“Insects, to be swept aside. To be burned and poisoned. To be exterminated.”

The dragon flew forward, landing on the front line. Dozens of soldiers were immediately crushed underneath him, with more being sent flying as he swiped around him. Most of the front line now unarmed, many began to fall back at Igan’s barking as the back line, still armed with spears, moved up. An especially brave soldier, within touching distance of the dragon, began bringing the pointed bottom of his tear-shaped shield down on the dragon’s foot. Even without a weapon, he fought ferociously.

The nameless soldier was quickly killed with many more as the dragon rampaged, stomping and swiping through the lines.

Suddenly, Costinia slammed into the dragon, digging her greatsword into the dragon’s back. He roared out in pain and anger, grabbing her and slamming her into the ground with murderous force.

She was dead. She had to be. None could could survive such an attack. It was as if she had fallen from the top of a cliff with the force she hit the ground.

Roaring in triumph, the dragon pulled back and let loose his breath, a could of black death falling over the soldiers. The spray went wide, and very narrowly missing the captain himself.

“You cannot harm me…and you cannot even deter me. Watch as I snuff out the candle that is your home, worthless insects!”

Mood Music

The dragon barreled through the soldiers, a huge gap from the decimated line making it simple. Stomping over a few of the archers, he took to the sky, and flew high up…before moving towards the city.

He was going to exterminate the citizens who had not evacuated. Those leading the evacuation, the sick and elderly who needed extra time to be led out, the lost and hopeless…

And there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

Igan looked to his lines. There were corpses strewn all about. Some squashed, some mauled, and some eaten from the inside-out from the accursed dark magic.

This was the end.

They had failed.

As the captain nearly fell to his knees in anguish, the sudden sound of shifting plate made him look to his side.

Costinia, the halfblood, she…

She was getting up!

Bloody and battered, she clutched at her chest. It looked as though a few inside bits had been broken, but…somehow, she lived.

“Commander…” the word was shallow, a short gasp following.

“My God…how the hell are you alive?!”

She shook her head. “Sorry, sir. I can’t adhere to the promise any longer.”

“It doesn’t matter. The battle is lost.”

The paladin glanced down and too the side, looking mournful. “Well, there is one way…”

Igan’s eyes widened. “W-what?! What is it?”

She lowered her head. Taking a deep breath, she stood up tall, fire in her eyes.

“I go with God. This is the end.”

“What are you talking about?”

The dragonoid stepped forward, clawed fists balled up as she glared at the dragon.

“I must go, now. To join the fallen. I thought if I fought to my best abilities, I could win, but…there’s no time left. I cannot risk the city. I must take him with me.”

“Take him WITH you?! What’re you up to, halfbreed?!”

The white dragonoid clasped her hands together, head lowered in prayer as she murmured to herself. Suddenly, white hot energy began pouring off of her.

“Farewell, commander.”

The dragonoid launched into the sky, flying after the black dragon. The power in her intensified, more and more, overfilling her and beginning to harm her…

Just as planned. This was all she had left.

One final attack.

Costinia felt her scales burn away and her skin begin to boil as she picked up more and more speed, losing her vision and feeling horrific, searing pain all over her body. All was white around her, and her own body began to melt away under the sun-like conditions, but before that happened…she would serve the Lord one last time.

Glory be to God.

Igar watched in shock as the flying dragonoid began glowing, turning into a blinding white light in the sky as she picked up incredible speed, flying from the army to the dragon in a moment’s time. The incredible speeding, blazing white light, set against the backdrop of the dark night sky, it was like…

A shooting star.

The captain watched as the light shot through the dragon, clean through him. A massive hole was torn through him as he roared out and fell like a stone, to the grounds below.

As the earth-shaking thud sounded out, the men began cheering, screaming and raising their fists to the sky in rapture.

The captain smiled. “I was wrong about you,” he murmured to himself, “You absolute hero, you…”

The bellowing cheers and celebrating was suddenly cut short as the light faded from the sky, revealing…

…nothing.

Igan felt a pit in his stomach as he began running towards the city, hoping to find answers below.

As they moved towards the city, they found the lifeless corpse of the dragon on the ground, as well as something else. Small, twisted bits of metal. As he ran his hand across a chunk of the burned material, some ash came off, revealing a speck of gleaming silver.

It was her armor.

It all came crashing down on him. That wasn’t just a fancy spell…she had literally turned herself into a blazing star, sacrificing her own life to save hundreds, maybe thousands.

“Damn it…Costinia, I didn’t…” he slammed a fist on the ground in frustration.

“…I didn’t get to apologize.”

Slowly rising to his feet, he collected himself, looking up as he wiped the tears away.

Above him, right where the final blow had been struck, a single, twinkling star stood.

A range of thoughts and emotions raged through Igan. Thoughts of destiny, heroism and loss.

Tears flowing anew, the captain saluted, offering his respect to the light above.

She would be given a hero’s funeral. He would make sure of that. No matter how many letters he’d have to send to the Royal Army. No matter how many times he’d have to appear before the retainers. She deserved that much.

And perhaps, up in heaven, right now…she was being given what she deserved.

A hero’s welcome.

Many years later...

Through the silent city streets, a lone figure marched. A man in a military uniform, weathered and bearded. The hardened commander marched in a dignified fashion towards the city square.

There was a parade out in the fields. That was why the city looked like a ghost town. If things had gone wrong all those years ago…

Well, a festival wouldn’t be the reason for the lack of life.

Stepping into the open city square, his eyes fell on it.

Just as he had remembered her.

A marble statue stood in the center of the square, taking up a great amount of space. He had heard of its construction, and had finally gotten a day off to come see it.

A statue of a dragonoid, in a suit of plate armor, face visible. She held her greatsword close to her chest, gazing up and to the side in a heroic pose.

He approached, smiling a wry smile. “Hey. Hope things are going well for you, wherever you are.”

Good thing the city was virtually empty, or else the people might think him a madman!

“Things are going well for me. I’ve not the simple garrison commander you once knew…and if that day went sour, well…I wouldn’t be here right now.”

The commander sighed. “I just wanted to say thank you. I’m not sure if you can hear me, but…I was wrong. I never got the chance to say sorry, but if you’re up there, somewhere…I apologize.”

He looked down at the plaque at the base of the state.

In honor of Costinia, the hero who saved Erine. May her presence continue to protect this great city.

He saluted for a few moments, before breaking the gesture. Reaching into his coat, the general pulled out a small gift, laying down on the statue.

At Costinia’s feet, a bouquet of flowers now sat.

“Perhaps, if things had gone differently, we might have been-” his lip quivered.

“…friends.”

General Igan turned and walked away, his visit complete. At least now, he had some closure. Perhaps she couldn’t hear him, perhaps she wasn’t really there, watching…but he hoped she was.

“Godspeed, Costinia.”

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner,  @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @disheveledcorvid, @reya-writes, @bexminx

[gettingbywithalittlehelp96]

The Price of His Mistakes

Part 18: Too Late

God blames his leaving on the mistakes and failures of his creations, but Eventually he will have to face his own mistakes.

ChuckxReader, CastielxReader

Chapter Characters: You/ReaderxGod/Chuck Shurley, you/Casifer, Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester, Rowena, and Amara, (Crowley Mentioned).

Warnings: Fluff, then a bomb of angst! :) 

Chapter Summary: There's still a lot that's going to have to be figured out, but all that matters now is making up for lost time

*I know, I’m a horrible person :) but I promise you, by the end of this series you will see it was all worth it!*

We’re almost to the finishing line folks! And while I have your attention, what do you all think about alternate endings?

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 

After discarding Chuck’s autobiography on the bed, you shot up and headed towards the door, bown and determined to get to Chuck. To apologize for being so mean to him just because you didn’t want to admit that you still loved him, but most of all you were looking forward to once again, being able to spend the night wrapped in his arms. You weren’t going to let anything get in your way. Not even the over 6 foot frame of the younger Winchester, whom you found standing outside your door.

“Y/n is everything okay?”

“Yes Sam, everything is fine,” you said walking right past him. “I just have something I need to do.”

“No wait,” Sam called out after you. “We need your help.”

“Okay Sam, just let me go talk to Chuck first,” you yelled back as you kept walking.

“Wait y/n, that’s just it, Chuck, Lucifer, they already left and are waiting on us.” By now he was next to you, placing his hand on your arm to stop you. “We have a plan to defeat Amara and we are ready to get this all done and over with.”

You let out a defeated sigh. Of course it would be just your luck that just as soon as you figured out that all you wanted was just to be Chuck, something would get in your way.

Things obviously weren’t going to go the way that you wanted, but you made sure not to waste any time getting Sam and Dean into the car and heading to the abandoned warehouse where Chuck and Casifer waited. Maybe then you would have some time to talk to him before things got crazy.

As you walked through the double doors, you noticed right away that Chuck was nowhere to be seen, Casifer, on the other hand, made his way over, the minute he saw you.

“Hello gorgeous,” he said, biting his lip. “What do you think? Are you ready to admit your true feelings? Get it all out there in the open?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t have any feelings for you Lucifer, you know that.”

“No, I know exactly where your heart lays, y/n. You love your angel, but your heart belongs to Chuck, it always had. As a matter of fact, I think all the people around you knew before you did.”

He gave you a wink, but as soon as Rowena and Crowley joined you, he turned his attention to them and left you be. A few minutes of back and forth banter occurred next, when Chuck suddenly appeared, with a big flash of light. He welcomed everyone, gave this speech about what was going to happen. Meanwhile you noticed how Rowena’s eyes had become glued to Chuck, how she hanged on his every road, and with how quickly the jealousy began to rage inside of you, you realized even more that you had never really stopped loving him.

“Hey Rowena, how about you stop making googly eyes at Chuck, and worry about doing your job.”

All of the eyes in the room landed on you, with looks of confusion on their faces. “Why are you all looking at me like that? Rowena has been throwing herself at him since the minute he showed up and the last thing we need is her screwing this up.”

Holding up her hands, she took a step back. “No need to bring out the witch killing bullets dear, I’m not trying to steal your spot as the Mrs.”

You could feel yourself beginning to blush and looked over to find Chuck staring back, with a cheeky smirk, on his face.

“Rowena,” he interrupted. “Everyone, it’s time to get your troops into position. Once I drop my warding, Amara won’t be too far behind, and we have to be ready.”

As everyone started taking their positions you stayed were you were and Chuck must've gotten the hint because he had already began to walk towards you. “Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Actually no, not yet, there's something we need to talk about.”

A small smile spread across his face. “I’ll say. If I didn’t know any better I would say that you sounded a bit jealous while you were talking to Rowena.”

“Really Chuck? Are you really smirking at me right now?” you asked with a chuckle. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be acting cocky already?”

“A little bit early in what?” he asked, his smile growing bigger.

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. That smile was always hard to resist. Grabbing a hold of his shirt, you pulled him to you, placing a deep kiss on his lips.

“Wow, that was...”

“That was long overdue,” you interrupted.

Bringing his hands up, he started to rub circles on your cheek with his thumb, looking in your eyes, adoringly. “It was well worth the wait though.”

This time, he kissed you softly, and as he did, you could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears. Yes you were still upset with him, but he was the only man you had ever loved and you had missed him so much. You missed those blue eyes, that gorgeous smile, and waking up with his arms wrapped tightly around you. All these years you had missed out on being able to love him and you were going to make sure to make up for all that lost time.

Pulling back you rested your forehead against his. “I’m so sorry Chuck. All I’ve done since you’ve came back is push you away, and that’s time we could’ve spent together.”

“I’m the one who wasted our time, y/n, and once this is all over I am going to spend every minute of the rest of our lives making up for it.”

You shook your head, feeling the tears beginning to fall more rapidly. “It’s just you’re the person who loved me most, and the whole time you were away I hated you, and then I read your biography..”

“Hey, hey, shh,” he whispered, lifting your chin, with two of his fingers. “Baby it’s okay, we will have all the time in the world once this is over, I promise.”

Wiping away your tears, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.

After that everything happened so fast. Amara had came in, battered, already looking like she was on the verge of collapse from the first three phases of the attack and just as you thought you had won, she retaliated. You and Lucifer rushed towards her at the same time, only to be thrown against the wall. Lucifer had seemed to be knocked out from when he hit the wall, but Amara had you, Sam, and Dean, stuck to the concrete, unable to move. You were paralyzed and when she focused her attack on Chuck, there was nothing you could do. You weren’t for sure what you were seeing, but by the screams coming from Chuck you knew it wasn’t good, and then with a big, blinding flash of white light, you got the horror of seeing what looked like Chuck’s lifeless body laying on the floor.

“Amara what have you done?” Dean asked.

“You.. you killed God,” Sam stuttered. “God’s dead.”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “But, he is dying. My brother will dim, and fade away but not before watching this world and everything he loves turn to ash.”

With a gush of wind she was gone and you could feel your heart breaking into a billion little pieces. You could’ve jumped into his arms, the moment he came back, you could’ve shown him how much you loved him, as he had done for you, but you just had to be stubborn. Now you were never going to get to be with him, in the way that you ached for. Now, you realized that you had come to your senses too late.  

@narisjournal-blog @natasha-cole @rblstrash @missihart23 @itsfunnierin-enochian @chelsea-shurley @internationalmusicteacher @tas898 @shanghai88 @be-fantastic @wontlookaway @zeddlocket @hunterpuff @draiela @lucerospn1detc @danabuggxd @jayyx3oxo @regandm @deanwherescas 

As always let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Again! Thank you all so much for following and reading! This chapter is put out in celebration of my 300 followers!!

[surrounded-by-superheroes]

Leaf Piles (Sam Wilson)

Summary; The Avengers have been sent on a Fall retreat and while everyone splits up to do thier own thing, you run into Sam doing something...interesting. Despite weak objections, you get roped into messing with Sam’s favorite bestie, Bucky Barnes.

A/N; Sorry for the wait, I’ve been working on a big something. Not sure if I’ll post it on here, but yeah. That’s my lame excuse. Hope you’ve enjoyed the series! Check out the Masterlist and tell me if you want anyone else! Love to you!

Warnings; Uh, language? Too much fluff, hehe.

Words; 2,072

Fluffy Fall Masterlist

I take a deep breath of fresh, newly chilled air the minute I step out of the cabin. Miraculously there’s no threat big enough to call for the Avengers, so we’re on a retreat. Bonding, Tony says. It’s the third day and no one has murdered anyone yet, so I’d say things are going well. That might change soon though. As I walk down the long driveway a bit, I see Sam crouching behind one of the SUV’s that brought us here. I walk over with furrowed brows but the moment he sees me he snatches my hand and tugs me down and close to him.

“Sam, what the hell?” I ask with hot cheeks. His warm brown eyes are on our feet to make sure they’re behind the back wheel before he grins at me.

“Shh. Look.” He quiets me and peeks around the bumper. I follow suit to find a brunette super-soldier raking leaves.

“Does he know this retreat is for relaxing?” I ask quietly and Sam beams mischievously at me.

“That’s the sad part. This is relaxing for him.” Sam shakes his head and holds me a little tighter as we carefully stand. “I’m waiting until he’s finished with that big pile, then I’m going to tackle him into it.” Sam tells me with glee, then seems to remember I’m here. “You’re coming too.”

I shake my head with a small smile. “No, no, no. It’s one thing for you to do it, but I am not tagging along.” My objection is firm, but Wilson senses my laughter.

“Nah, you’re doing it. You’ll probably prevent him from killing me anyways. I’ll give you a kiss if we survive?” He suggests, that smile and bright eyes charming me to my core. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and blush as his eyes follow the movement.

“Okay. Better be a damn good kiss, Wilson.” I sass and he pecks my cheek.

“I don’t give any other kind, sweetheart.” He teases back and I roll my eyes before we both peek around the SUV again. My heart squeezes a little as I watch Bucky rake the leaves, whistling to himself every once and a while.

“Are you sure we should do this?” I whisper to Sam and feel his chest shake with silent laughter. We’re still pressed against one another, his chest to my back and my chest against the car.

“Yes. Asshole needs to take himself a little less seriously. You’ll see.” He tells me and I nod once, trusting him. As we wait Sam casually wraps his arms around my waist so we’re a more compact unit and easier to hide. My cheeks are hot and I smother a nervous laugh before it escapes.

“Sam, how long have you even been waiting here?” I murmur and feel him shrug.

“Thirty minutes, maybe.” He responds and I crane my neck to look at his face.

“You’ve been waiting to tackle Bucky for fucking thirty minutes? That’s sad.” I shake my head and turn back to the man just about finishing up combining the two little piles he’s made.

“If only you’d have found me sooner, sweetheart. Would’ve seemed like seconds with you in my arms, huh?” He pecks my hair and chuckles quietly to himself. I shake my head again but my smile comes easy.

“Watch it there, buddy. Flirting isn’t helping.” My voice is hushed to prevent Bucky from hearing, but if Sam keeps teasing me like this we’re going to be found out.

“It’s helping me just fine.” He says smoothly.

“God, would you two just fucking fuck already? Motherfucking hell.” We both flinch when Bucky yells over at us and reluctantly come out of our hiding places. He’s not even facing us, the smug bastard. Sam and I meet eyes before nodding and running towards Bucky anyways. When he hears our stomping feet, he turns just in time for his mouth to form a little o before we tackle him into the big pile of leaves. Sam and I’s laughter joins Bucky’s stream of creative cursing as leaves billow around us just to fall back onto the grass. Bucky shoves the two of us off him as our laughter dies down to just giggles. We lay there a moment and he sighs, the smallest of half-smiles on his face. “Times like these make me feel like I’m actually a hundred.”

“Because you want to yell at us to get off your yard like a scary old guy?” I ask and Sam guffaws. Bucky shoves a pile of leaves on my face.

“Because the two of you should be my age but you act fucking five.” He sasses and I punch his stomach in retaliation. He wheezes once before wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up so I’m on his chest.

“No, Bucky! No! Put me down!” I laugh and he happily deposits me on Sam. “Oof!” My breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh as he just so happens to put me down in the perfect position to straddle Sam’s lap. My hands land on his pecs to brace myself and when our surprised eyes meet I full body blush. Bucky glances between us before bursting into the most raucous laughter I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth.

“Yeah, we’re five.” Sam shoots back at him and Bucky laughs a little harder.

“I’m so sorry.” I breathe and think about standing up, but there’s absolutely no way to do that without grinding down on Sam. Bucky stands and, while laughing, fishes his phone out of his pocket and snaps a couple pictures.

“You’re fine, sweetie. Asshole!” Sam scolds as Bucky walks back to the cabin laughing. Soothingly, and temptingly, Sam squeezes my hips.

“I’m uh, I’m going to try and stand?” I tell him, waiting for his okay. Those warm eyes meet mine and he relaxes back onto the leaves, hands sliding down my thighs as he does.

“Don’t mind if you linger a little.” Sam teases and winks at me. If possible, I turn even redder. My lips part slightly and my fingers unconsciously tap on his chest.

“I…well…you…” I shake my head to clear it a bit, “Well. You do owe me a kiss, don’t you?” Once the words leave my mouth I can’t take them back, but when Sam’s face lights up with a slow, sexy smile I’m not sorry.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He tells me and suddenly sits up. A little gasp falls from my lips as I slip further into his lap, but Sam doesn’t see a problem with this. Tenderly, his arms wrap around my waist as mine slip up to his dear-lord-save-me-from-my-sin damn fine shoulders. “You alright?” He asks affectionately and I nod. Our eyes meet and it feels like my heart pauses just to feel the butterflies swarming before he rocks slightly and brings our lips together. Soft, sweet, and emphasized by the solid feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around me, I feel safe. Nerves fade as he pulls away to give me an easy out but stays close enough that if we want to continue it’s up to me. Sam has always kept me steady while also keeping me on my toes. Our foreheads press together and our eyes open, eyelashes brushing together from our proximity.

“You alright?” I repeat his comment and he smiles.

“Little more than alright, sweetie.” He responds and presses his lips together for a moment. Those heart-melting brown eyes look into my soul before I decide. Fuck it. I press my lips back to his pouty ones and lock my arms around his neck. I guess I was too forceful because we fall back onto the leaf pile. Sam doesn’t seem to mind and neither do I, as long as our lips are still touching. This kiss is just as slow as the first but doesn’t lack heat. His lips against mine feels like magma; warm, slow, earth-changing. A little moan escapes my lips as his hands just barely slip underneath my sweater, exposing a strip of skin to the brisk air. Goosebumps raise all over me and the pads of Sam’s fingers run over them like braille. We pop apart when we hear shouting coming from the cabin. Turning to look, we find Bucky has dragged Steve out just to holler at us from the porch. I groan and look back at Sam. Chuckling, he stands and sets me onto my feet. He shakes his shoulders and arms to loosen up as I flip off the other two soldiers.

“You take Steve, I got the asshole,” Sam mutters and pecks my cheek before focusing back on Bucky.

“Deal.” I agree and brush leaves off my body, winking at Steve as the two look at us suspiciously.

“One.” Sam starts as we slowly turn to the cabin.

“Two.” I continue.

“Three!” We shout in unison and speed towards the two idiots. While Steve manages to catch me and simply embraces me in one of his bear hugs, Sam tackles Bucky to the ground with a hard thump. Steve and I stand to the side with his warm arm over my shoulders.

“Glad you two are giving somethin’ a try.” He tells me softly, blue eyes shining with amusement. I nod and look back to the rolling soldiers, slapping each other like children.

“Me too. Hopefully he’ll survive this horrible fight they’re having.” I droll and Steve laughs lightly in return.

“It’s good for them to get it out every once and a while.” Steve responds and we walk to the other side of the porch to sit on the swing. It only takes a few minutes for the two boys to finish their playing and Sam instantly looks for me.

“Trying to steal her away already, Steve?” Sam teases and sits in my lap, causing the chains holding us up to groan.

“Aw, Jesus Sam.” I curse as he spins to put his feet on Steve.

“Oh sorry, am I crushing you?” Sam jokes and wiggles on my lap which causes the swing to sway violently. I start laughing but stop when we hear a loud crack. Bucky backs up a little as we all look up at the chains in the roof. Not even a second passes before a link in each chain breaks and we collapse onto the porch, then backwards to smash through the porch rail. Bucky rushes over and after making sure we’re fine, bursts into laughter once again. We all begin laughing too at the sheer hilarity of it.

“What the fuck?” Tony asks when he comes out of the cabin along with everyone else to see what the commotion is about. I don’t even care. Sam quiets his booming laugh into a quiet chuckle as he climbs off me. A big hand reaches up and caresses my cheek.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He asks sweetly.

“Fine, thanks.” Steve responds as he stands, clapping a hand on his shoulder before starting to clean up the little mess we made.

“I’m alright.” I giggle and accept a little peck on the lips. “Let’s clean this up.” He helps me to stand and we clean up while Tony mutters about people breaking his shit. It doesn’t take too long to pick up the shards of wood and the four of us are still grinning and chuckling as we do it. A couple hours later it’s time for our nightly snuggles around the fire. Steve and Bucky are fighting over the only blanket big enough to cover their behemoth frames, Tony is laying on the ground with his head in Natasha’s lap so she can play with his curls, Vision and Wanda are leaning back on a fallen tree, and Sam is sitting in the only chair since it’s his turn. Normally we’d sit with each other so I’m a little lost as to where to go when he suddenly pulls me down into his lap.

“Get comfortable.” He tells me and I shift slightly before he takes the blanket off the ground and drapes it over the two of us, then wraps his arms around my waist. “Good?” He questions and I sigh happily.

“Perfect.” My eyes rove over the firelit faces and I smile. It’s moments like this when I remember just how much I love Fall.

[euphoricdr3ams]

Broken (3/3)

Genre: Fluff  Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader Word Count: 3.1k

Part1 Part2 

3 Months Later

It took 3 months but, finally, your life has gotten back to some form of normalcy. You couldn't have done it without Jin, Jimin, Yoongi, and Jungkook. It was a relief that you had their support. You had almost forgotten how much you missed Jin’s seal laugh.

At first, you seemed scared. You had been away from them for so long. You hoped that they wouldn’t hold any hard feelings about the last few months. You feared the resentment they may have. However, they welcomed you back with open arms. It looks effort to convince them not to retaliate.

Now, you are questioning how they managed to get you to come out to some sweaty apartment party. To be honest, it had been a while since you last went out to party. You felt a little self-conscious. All these girls were barely dressed and you’re wearing jeans, short sleeves, a beanie, and a sweater because unlike them you were “aware” of the weather outside. It’s close to 30 degrees. Too cold for leggings and just a crop top. You’d much rather be in your bed. But the almighty power of Jimin’s big eyes begging, however, are too hard to resist.

“(Y/N) get dressed.”

“Jimin, you know I’m not a party person.” He rolled his eyes and pushed his hair back.

“You always say that but I remember carrying you back to your apartment last year after about seven shots and five beers.”

You scowled at his remark. “Okay, well, I’m different now. Besides, what if he is there?” You said as you turned away from the FaceTime camera to grab some of your favorite snacks that Yoongi brought over last week.

“Good, then I get to beat him up if he looks at you,” he said way too nonchalantly before he paused and started whining again. “Come on, A) I doubt he’ll be there because this is a celebration party for the last performance of the semester. B) You should come out and congratulate the people who performed, plus try to talk to them so you can be assistant choreographer next semester, I saw your work and it's good. And C) Don’t you wanna have fun with your crew?” he rebutted.

You huffed at his responses in defeat. There was no way you were getting out of this one, and your silence only confirmed it to him. “Good, I’ll met you there.” and your FaceTime call quickly ended before you could attempt another excuse.

I kinda hope Jimin pregames too much and then forgets to come get me. I’ll just lay here in my bed and pretend that I forgot. Then, I can stay in and finally finish this anime– “Get up! If I have to go this stupid party so do you,” Yoongi yelled, interrupting you from your master plan as he literally strolled into your apartment.

It’s moments like these where you hate that he lives in the next building over and has a spare key to your apartment. You groaned as you got up from your bed. When you walked back out you saw Yoongi on your couch in his natural habitat. He looked up from his phone and subtly checked you out.

“Alright, let’s go before Jimin starts calling and asking where we are,” Yoongi huffed as he lifted himself off the couch.

Jungkook is dancing with some girl. Jimin’s talking way too loudly to a person who is less than one foot away from them. Jin seems to not care that he’s dancing terribly in the center of the circle. Yoongi Is watching everyone by the wall. You decided to play flip cup in the next room.

“Come on. Hurry,” Taehyung is screaming at you as you chug your 4th beer. “YESSSS!!” Taehyung wrapped his arms around you in a big embrace. You both had come from the same high school, but you were never really close. You had to admit he was the life of a party. 3 more shots in, and you were beginning to feel drunk. Yoongi had been watching you from the corner of his eye while listening to this kid talks about things he doesn’t care about. Jin came over and yanked Yoongi to stand up and pulled him outside to the balcony.

“How much longer are you gonna take to make your move?”Jin questioned. Yoongi rolled his eyes. He knew where this conversation was going. Yoongi grabbed his cup for 3/4th’s liquor 1/4th juice mixture and lit a cigarette.

“You told us you stopped,” Jin stated with a scarily mother-like tone.

“I’ve been stressed,” Yoongi said in an attempt to defend his actions.

“Whatever, I’m not even gonna fight you on that right now. Seriously, are you just gonna sit and watch as Taehyung steals her away.”

“I’m working on it,” he defended as he puffed out smoke.

“How by talking to people you clearly don’t care about,” Jin attacked. “You need to start actively trying or you’re gonna lose her again. Trust me, if this happens again, I won’t be picking up your 1 am phone calls of you whining about how she doesn’t respond to your messages.” Yoongi took Jin’s drink in irritation from him and killed it. “Well, I’m gonna go back inside. I’m done lecturing for right now.” Jin said smugly and left Yoongi standing outside, cigarette in hand.

“He makes it sound so fuckin easy. It’s not like... what if she never liked me?! Then I would have just almost ruined our friendship for what? But, I don’t think I can watch her go out with another guy who clearly isn’t good for her.”  Yoongi complained to himself. Just like that, you stumbled outside for some fresh air cutting his internal argument short. You were greeted by Yoongi’s concerned face.

“And, I thought I had to babysit Jimin tonight,” Yoongi laughed nervously. “Slow down, the alcohol isn’t going anywhere.”

“I’m not that drunk,“ you denied. However, your words didn’t match your actions as you continued all the way to the railing that Yoongi was leaning on. You glanced down and noticed his cigarette. 

“Don’t, I already got lectured by ‘Eomma’ Jin about it,” he countered before you could even open your mouth about it. You leaned your head that was on his shoulder started to slide down. “That’s it I’m cutting you off. No more playing drinking games with your boy toy.”

“Boy Toy?! Who Tae? Eww, I know too much about him.”

“He seems really interested in you,” Yoongi said lighting another cigarette. The jealousy was apparent in his voice to him, but in your inebriated state, it flew right over your head.

“Gross, I would never,” you slurred. “He totally went out with my friend in highschool. She would kill me.”

“I thought you hated all your high school friends,” Yoongi said as he held you up while you rested your head on his shoulders. He listened to your response and couldn’t help how cute you sounded intoxicated. 

“I do, but there were some I liked.” you breathed out and a comfortable silence fell between you two.

“I’m drunk,” breaking the silence with the apparent truth. Yoongi laughed as he pulled you closer and kissed your head. 

“Wanna go home?” he suggested. He looked away from you for half a second and saw that Jungkook was staring from the window like a weirdo. Giant smile on his face, Yoongi wondered why he wasn’t using his time wisely and talking to a girl. Instead, he’d rather waste his time making Yoongi nervous by texting him in what he thought was a discreet manner.

[1:20 AM]Finally, kiss her – KookieMonster

[1:20 AM]GO AWAY – AgustD

“No, it’s just starting to get fun.” You whined and he looked away from his screen quickly to stare at you.

“But you clearly are drunk,” he huffed and locked his screen. “Fine, but we leave in an hour and no more drinking.”

“Ok, so put out the cigarette and come back inside,” You demanded. Yoongi ashed out his cigarette in compromise and walked back inside the apartment. He almost couldn’t believe was happening right now.

Jungkook was being the DJ. Jimin was making out with a girl in the corner. That’s going to be awkward in the morning because she has a girlfriend. In was still dancing terribly, but at least everyone else was dancing badly too so it didn’t look so horrible. Jungkook was obviously trying to appeal to a new girl. Jungkook jumped out from the DJ booth with enough time to grab his partner. Everyone else grabbed their partners as well. You looked at Yoongi. He eventually noticed your staring and resisted. 

“You know, I have two left feet.” He stated while vigorously shaking his head no. You grabbed his arms regardless of his protests because they fell on deaf, drunk, ears. He managed to keep up pretty decently to the beat of the music contrary to his two left feet.The next few songs that played closed the distance between you and Yoongi. His arms moved to a comfortable spot around your waist. He felt the small curves on your hips as your head was on his shoulder.

“Stay calm. Stay calm. She’s drunk.” Yoongi thought to himself.

In the minute, he didn’t even notice you lift your head and stare into his eyes. In your drunken state, you weren’t thinking much and pushed him up against the wall. His eyes grew wide as you continued to dance with him.

“This woman is going to put me in an early grave.” Yoongi thought. A small kiss landed on his lips. Despite, his mind telling him not to do it. He kissed you back just as lightly. Then you kissed him again but not as innocently. He kissed back with more passion. You parted your lips and tilted your head. Yoongi sneaked his tongue ever so slightly into your mouth and took advantage of the new found access to you. You both continued to make out for about a minute.When he pulled away. You took a deep breath. Yoongi took this time to scan the room to see if anyone noticed. When his head faced you, you began to make out with him again. You pulled your head away slightly and began to kiss his neck. Yoongi lets a moan slip as you kissed his neck and began to touch him right underneath his shirt when you pulled away. You admired the hickey that began to form.

“What just happened?” Yoongi thought out loud.Your head landed on his shoulder and he supported your weight.

“Yoongi”

“Yes.”

“I’m horny.”

“No, you’re drunk. Come on we are leaving now. We’ve spent enough time at this sweaty apartment party.” Yoongi said grabbing his phone and cigarettes from on top of the speaker. Yoongi quickly left with you trying to avoid the awkward glances from his crew. He wasn’t sure if they saw what just happened. He thought it just is easier to just text them that they left than deal with the ridicule and questions. The uber came rather quickly. In the back seat, you fell asleep on his lap.when you arrived at Yoongi’s apartment the both of you stumbled out and made it to his door.

“Wait, this isn’t my place?” you questioned.”I’m gonna go walk home.” You pivoted and began to walk to the elevator. Yoongi chased you after you and walked you back to his apartment. At the moment, He didn’t listen to your protests. You couldn’t even make it back to your apartment without your dad questioning him why he brought back his daughter drunk. Although it wasn't going to be much better with his mom at least she would necessarily think to care about it because you guys have been friends for such a long time. When you got to his room, he threw a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt at you. You barely managed to get it on without making a bunch of noise.

“Shhh, my mom’s sleeping. She doesn’t even know you’re coming over.” Yoongi insisted. You laid down on the bed and attempted to drunk text people. Yoongi ran over and grabbed your phone.

“You’re gonna regret that in the morning. Just go to sleep.” he said climbing into the other side of the mattress. You rolled over to him and nestled yourself right on top of him. He reached over and gave you some blanket. You leaned up and planted another kiss on his soft lips. He kissed back. Another makeout session began more intense than the last. You played with the band on his jeans. “No, not tonight, as much as I want you. You’re in no condition to be doing anything.” Yoongi said shakily from the kiss. You didn't listen and kissed his neck in hopes to distract him from what you were trying to accomplish.

“I never wanted you more than I did these last few months.” you pouted with one hand going down his chest. And one running through his mint green hair.  

“Try again in the morning when you and I are sober. If you still feel the same.” You went back to your previous spot on his arm and began to doze off.

Yoongi woke up the next day to an empty bed and a message from you.

[12:14 PM] Went home to go take a shower and change. I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world.I’ll call you when I'm coming back.- (Y/N)

Yoongi dragged his feet all the way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.He looked at the mirror. The hickey you gave him as evidence of last night. In the shower, all he could think about was whether you blacked out last and don’t remember anything or remember everything. His anxiety about the situation was getting worse. He needed to vent or someone. He threw on a t-shirt and jeans then face timed Jimin.

“Oh good morning or should I say afternoon you sloth. I swear you don’t ever wake up.” Jimin laughed as he grabbed his headphones. Yoongi rolled his eyes and stepped outside to the balcony to smoke a cigarette.

“Seriously,” Jimin whined. “You really think she’s going to be with you with that nasty habit.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi said angrier. “I’m just stressed.”

“I mean you guys seemed like you had a good time last night. Nice hickey” Yoongi grabbed his hoodie to cover it. “Did you guys do it?’

“What?! No, she was wasted. What if everything was just in the heat of the moment?” Yoongi questioned as he blew out smoke.

“I doubt it honestly. You need to just use your words and ask her”

“It’s not that easy” Yoongi countered.

“Yes, it is. Come on. This is the closest you have ever been. Don’t waste it. Look, I gotta go. recommendation put a spoon in the freezer, wait for it to get cold, and place it on your hickey.” Jimin hung up.

Yoongi finished his cigarette and did exactly what jimin said. At least the part about the spoon in the freezer. You let yourself in about an hour later and sat outside on the balcony with Yoongi. You didn’t know how to bring up last night. It was the honest reason you left this morning. You were drunk but didn’t black out. You didn’t know whether he was just playing along or if he liked you all along. The silence gave you anxiety. You reached over and grabbed the box of cigarette and was bout to light one for yourself.

“No, Once you start it’s hard to quit,” Yoongi said taking them away from you and ashing it out.

“You do i-”

“I know and it's bad I'm gonna stop.” Yoongi said.”just not right now, It helps calm my nerves.” Yoongi couldn't take the beating around the bush anymore. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was drinking and we have been close. It just happened. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t but, then you continued to try even when we got back to my place. Why? It’s been bothering me since last night. I just went with the flow but, I barely slept because I don’t know what's going on?”

“Look, I guess I did it because I feel a connection with you. You saved me from a toxic relationship.You always have been there for me. Hell, You even have keys to my apartment. Like, It’s confusing too because you are my friend but now” Your voice got quieter. ”I don’t know.” 

“I’m actually going to take Jin's advice and use my words. (Y/N), I like you. I have since before you even went out with that creature. You make me so relaxed and happy. I didn’t ask you out almost a year ago because I didn’t think I was good enough for you. Until I saw you with him, He was a monster. I regretted from that day on for being a pussy and not saying anything. I was even angry with myself once, I  had heard rumors about how he treated you. When I meet you that day, and we were having a good time on the boardwalk. I got emotional. Like fuck, look what I missed out on. After everything with him was over, I wanted to be with you but you had just gotten out a shit relationship. I did not want to be selfish. When I saw you with Taehyung last night. It was like deja vu. I was almost gonna give up on my feelings. When you kissed me, I remembered why I kept pushing for so long. I wanted you so badly. It didn't finally hit until got a taste of what I could have. I don’t know how you feel and it drives me mad but I want you.” Yoongi vented. It felt as though a huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He finally did it. You stood up and sat on his lap. You kissed him. There was passion, healing, and romance in that kiss. You could barely breathe when you pulled away.

“I think, I’m going to allow myself the chance to fall in love .” You paused. “He broke my heart but, I won’t let it hold me back. You’ve been through a lot as well but, you still manage to have a love for me. Let’s see what happens when broken hearts try to heal each other.”

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It’s officially over. I hope you all enjoyed the ride. xoxo Admin YOLO