#and she died before i got the courage of outright telling her. and i wanted to tell her bc of the suspicions i had about her

[minglana]

sometimes i want to cry bc for yeeeaaarrrssss i had the suspicion that my grandma (not actually grandma but i consider her my gma) was gay, mostly bc she never married or had kids. and today at lunch my dad started talking about how the only man that my grandma actually liked (instead of tolerated) was her dad... he said that he thought she might have had some trauma with men or something, which is entirely possible. he also said she might have had like an inferiority complex or something at her size (these last yrs she was pretty overweight, and when she was younger she was also on the chubby side). but the fact that he considered that she had trauma w men or self-doubts about her image instead of thinking she mightve been a lesbian....... like ok

[gracebethartacc]

Hi, I just wanted to say I love yiur wish rewrite ideas so far! Your art style is so cute!

I’ve got afew questions about it.

What’s Asha’s role in the story? Is she an actual princess this time or is she Magnifico’s apprentice from the start?

I would also like to know a little more about star and Magnufico if you can❤️👍

AAAAA TYSMMMMM!!!! THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 

ANYWAY messy character/story ramble and some on the spot brainstorming under the cut:

I mentioned it in my first wish post but yes she’s still wanting to be the kings apprentice/isn’t a princess (but I’d say for the ending after the king gets killed off villain style she replaces him as princess so it comes full circle n all) 

The main difference with my Asha is she has zero social skills/is shy/doormat, I liked the idea of how she was anxious before meeting with the king but youknow in mine I’m getting rid of the adorkable stuff from it. Like it emphasizes how big of a deal this is because she finally worked up the proper courage to speak with him. 

I’m not 100% sure but I like the idea she only offers to be his assistant AFTER being turned down about granting her grandfathers wish, like I think she’d always want to be a sorcerer like him but never had that wish right at the forefront youknow? Perhaps after her father died she lost hope in that or just thought it was unrealistic etc but I feel like in the movie her having both of those motivations at once kinda muddled with things and definitely paints her as being a bit selfish especially considering this movie does just a reallllly poor job at show don’t tell like we never see Asha like studying magic or wishes or looking up to the king etc but we sure are told it a lot but just?? It definitely feels very cluttered and could easily be adjusted with just emphasizing one thing over another, so in mine I’d like to think either one of two things I’ve not decided yet but either 1: she hits two birds with one stone and goes to work for magnifico for a bit and only THEN asks about her grandfather's wish or 2: my previously stated idea of asking about wish first and doing apprenticeship work in exchange 

I kinda prefer the first one a little bit just bc gives us some time with Asha and the king to interact while also giving time for another wish ceremony to happen in that time, and for her grandfather to again not get his wish chosen to kinda put a nail in the coffin. And in mine her grandpa is much more physically fitting for being 100 like man is going to die in like the next one or two years he doesn’t have very long HENCE haves emphasis on WHY Asha is so insistent on getting his wish granted bc in the movie sure she cares about him but we aren’t SHOWN WHY like no specific childhood moments or any clear close bond moments like I said just way too much tell and not enough show

not sure about her dad yet but I definitely wanna make him more prominent maybe he was magnificos apprentice or studied stars etc just something to give him more of a importance

But yeah so making her shy was a big thing in helping separate her from other Disney protags bc I honestly can’t really think of many outright anxious or people pleasing Disney princesses/Disney girl protagonists ? And because it helps with her arc of standing up for herself/seeking justice like it hits it home a lot harder as compared to “ooo quirky girl but now she’s cool!!” Like it felt very forced to me atleast in my opinion so here it feels much more natural, and helps her bounce off star more bc the goat was not it that wasn’t a character to bounce off of that was a trailer one liner generator. 

So speaking of Star!! Bc you asked about him so yeah uhh not really much to say besides I wanted to combine the cute ball of energy personality that the movie had AND the bombastic energetic shapeshifter boy from the concepts so I combined them together to get cute starboy who rather than being full of energy is more so just easily excited especially considering star has wanted to visit earth for forever 

I like the idea that maybe they never granted wishes or helped people was because Asha and her dad were the only ones who really wished on stars bc everyone else just went to the king. So Star hears her venting abt the king not helping her grandad at the tree asking for help as like a last ditch attempt and star recognizes her voice and grants her wish like ‘you wanted help? I’m here now!’ Type of deal

Ohhh another idea I actually got this from another post but someone had mentioned making the stars magic/wish granting work like the blue fairy from Pinocchio, in which they can’t directly grant wishes but instead give you the means to achieve your wish on your own (hence the bit in that art of magnificos ref sheet having the doodle of Star saying even star can’t grant wishes directly/take them, which is a huge deal bc if a cosmic being can’t do something that this regular ass guy CAN do then that’s a huuuge red flag (or… black flag ig in this case bc yk.., black magic lol))

My Star is basically just a rehash of the classic Ariel type character of ‘I’ve watched humans my whole life and it’s boring in space, I want to be human because I like them!’ But unlike Ariel he doesn’t stay human because star instantly regrets it after getting it granted because 1: magnifico manipulated star and just got god powers and 2: ‘oooohgpf this is overstimulation hell wtf wtf wtf I hate this this feels so weirddddd’

And another reason is because of the Asha foils/recognition of the self through the other plot of them two thus they get symbolism of appreciating what they already have and all :3

Magnifico I’m still brainstorming on but tldr I’m thinking he will be more manipulative than straight up evil/the full evil stuff just shows up later/it’s a slow burn 

Like starts off being a little sus but ultimately well meaning and helpful, then bleeds into manipulation territory, then once getting star magic he just lets go of all that restraint and just is full power hungry villain, ALSO killing the book possession thing bc that was stupid and instead I like the idea he uses dark magic from the start but no one knows because he lies about it’s just because he’s the most powerful sorcerer/maybe he’s the only one who actually knows magic either bc of a ban or perhaps something about his old kingdom being destroyed maybe it could be a library of Alexandria thing of he’s the only sorcerer left around in that area shrugs but lots of fun to be had with him ! slutty evil kings are an awesome trope like I really wanna play on hubris/self downfall bc that’s my favorite kind of villain of ‘you could have been different but just dug yourself such a deep hole it became your grave’ 

Sorry for the ramble oof I just decided to let alphabet spaghetti fall out of my mouth and hope it turned into comprehensible sentences ok

[imbadatwrighting]

Dude if your writing for Stanley uris could I ask for x trans male one where the reader is absolutely completely in love with him but he hasn't transitioned yet and they don't know whether or not Stan accepts people like him so he ask bev for advice cause she like already knew a stuff. If not that alright but I've had this idea for a while and I can't write sooo....

I don’t think I’m really good at writing trans reader so I apologize if it’s kind of crappy but I tried so 🤷‍♀️also I tried to write this as an one shot but I didn’t like it so I changed it to Head-canons

Pairing: Stanley Uris x Closeted Trans! Male reader

———————

Honestly the only person that knows you’re trans is Beverly

She knew before you did-

She also knows about you big crush on Stanley

You and her talk about him at your house while she gives you a shoulder massage

You tried to reciprocate that but it didn’t work out that well, so let’s just say it’s never going to happen again

She tried to be your wingman and she’s was honestly good at it…. Sometimes

Other times she’ll go one showing pictures you took of Stan to him

I mean it does help you a lot and always make him blush and like you a little bit more but not so much for you as you just think he’s embarrassed and doesn’t like you talking photos of him

When you finally muster up the courage to ask him out he of course says yes which is amazing in the moment but of course makes you realize that you will now have to definitely tell him your trans which isn’t going to be the most fun in the world

Cue complaining to Beverly now about having to put yourself to Stan instead of the usual ‘Im in love with Stan’ stuff

But even though you were talking to Beverly you still couldn’t tell Stan about it

Until after the whole Pennywise situation

I mean after getting stabbed your self and Stan almost getting his face bitten off from Pennywise, it’s a safe bet that you would want to tell him before he died

Especially after realizing he might not have a lot of year to live

Random thing but Beverly wanted to tell you so bad about not seeing Stan in the future but every time you would talk about him made it worse and worse until she just decided that she couldn’t

Who knows it might not even have been that big of a deal… right?

When you finally got to muster up your courage to tell him my boy Stan was so understanding and happy for you

You and him ever other week will go out to shops and by some more boy viewed clothing

Honestly it’s so sweet

And not at all what you thought would happen-

I mean you expected something more of him not accepting you and finding you as ‘weird’ and ‘abnormal’

Which of course was never something that was going to happen

It doesn’t matter that Stan has different views for the world

When it’s about you he’s the kindest man in the world

Omg if you wanted to get your hair cut-

He would go with you during it and might get like a trim for himself too

He would be so happy for you

But if you didn’t then that’s ok too

He tries so hard not to push your boundaries and make you happy

But the only thing that he pushes is the fact that your closeted

Honestly he doesn’t care about that stuff

You could also tell them that you two are dating and if you guys get hate then you get hate

It’s not going to stop him from loving you

But if anyone was outright mean to you about switching your gender-

It doesn’t matter if you can handle it yourself or don’t care he will be your #1 defender for life

If he had to growl and bark in order for you to not be made fun of for something you can’t control then so be it

He might like it you’ll never know until you try 🤷‍♀️

Overall this boy is literally the sweetest boy out there and he will always be there for you no matter what

————-

I think I did pretty good for my first time writing something like this but I don’t think I’m going to be doing trans readers often :(

[incarnateirony]

Noooononono I think she was close and is backsliding, I was about to go to bed why am I hearing master of tartarus again oh god no maam its right there

Edit: got the courage to check that literally cursed ass blog, and she was like... right there. Posting about living a life. And then backslid to showing off her bird, again, this time to show they don't *always* stuff him in too small a cage since last August, just sometimes. The negotiating with herself is starting again. Oh god woman his pissed messages at you go back to June and July, you can check the timestamps, stop, stop sliding backwards. Let the fucking bird go. If not your pigeon, the one that is openly begging you to let it out so it might come back to your windowsill on its own some day, instead of being stuck in some venomous vibration he can't break past because it's too busy projecting me.

pleaaaaaaaaase god tell me getting stuck in that 2 hour cycle with "won't make a goddamn email to save my boyfriend but will complain about not doing it and how freaked out i am for 2 hours in spirals" driving backwards mcgee didn't like, resonate that energy right back out and make her start backing the fuck up again.

Edit: OH GOD THE FUCKING BIRD POST WAS AN HOUR INTO IT WHEN I STARTED SNAPPING TO THE POINT HE WAS COMING OUT TRYING TO LEVEL IT AGAIN OH GOD NO

SON OF A BITCH IS SHE REALLY THAT OVER CONNECTED RIGHT NOW ALREADY OH GOD

OH GOD NO I CHECKED THE FUCKING TIMESTAMPS OH GOD

its. its the same time.

"Many chatters can struggle making big calls or emails, but you had the strength to reach out to us today. What did you do to get yourself ready to talk to us today?" 10:48. Her bird post is at 10:20 and I'd already been going down the drain with this one for almost an hour with them just insisting on running away from just Doing The Thing.

Worry and fear. "OK, let's tap into that same power, even if it's worry, since we have a lot of worry right now, we can try to make that strength again like earlier, how would you feel about writing an email like this-" 10:50

I could but he said not to say his name. Idk what to do. "It's a big feeling, and can be overwhelming. Let's consider the choices. Do you feel he is serious enough about his intent that the help is more important than him being angry, or do you feel he will be angrier than anything else?" 10:54

I know he's serious, because he's done it before. "OK, it sounds like you feel this is important then. Let's take away all the other voices, of mom or dad or even him right now, pretend even I'm just a voice in your head. Even with all that worry, what feels like the right choice right now?" 11:00

And I was still on another 45 after that but I just. My point. Oh god I think that just direct uploaded the anxiety backing up to her. FUCK THE PRINCIPLE OF CORRESPONDENCE

oh god wait. I used to have my independent processing bloc, thats what started picking up her reflecting pyramidhead bs in the circuit, is she literally about to become my shadow work dumping ground altogether until this ends? Cuz that's the shit I bend people back from the brink usually.

Oh.

At one point... he outright asked, what do you feel we can do to support you today? And she walked right by it, and just said "I just want to be able to see him again and I just want him to stay here."

Oh god.

...I think that man later died to a spearman or some kind of soldier. Hence my disproportionate fear of death by sharp objects until I learned to uproot that as Not Mine and went all Karambit King.

[arc-misadventures]

Traitor of Atlas: what do Ghira and Kali think about Sienna’s relationship

Congrats! You lost it…

Ghira: …

Jaune: …

Ghira: So…

Jaune: …

Ghira: You, and Sienna are finally together!

Jaune: Yes… Yes we are… Didn’t see it coming honestly…

Ghira: She’s always had feelings for you, you know that right?

Jaune: Yes, and no. It was admiration, and then over time it became love. I knew she always liked, and respected me. For all the things I have done to help her, and faunas. I never expected she liked me like that…

Ghira: That’s because you’ve always been focusing on the well being of others, more so than yourself.

Jaune: I’m a Huntsman, that’s kinda part of my job. Protect people, and what not. So, of course I focus on other’s more so than myself.

Ghira: No, what I meant was that; You have never focused on finding someone for yourself. Someone you can share, and have a life with. Since I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you so much as flirt with someone. You’re rather oblivious to when woman flirt with you and before you say that they haven’t…

Jaune: I know they’ve been flirting with me.

Ghira: The hav…?! Beg pardon?

Jaune: I know people have been flirting with me. I’m not dense, Ghira; I know when people are flirting with me. I just deliberately act like I don’t know they’re flirting with.

Ghira: You what?!

Jaune: Haa… I never wanted to just go, and outright say, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not interested,’ or anything else like that, because that my incentivize someone to try flirting with me harder than before. Or, spread rumours that I’m actually dating someone, and then spread rumours about me, and them. So… I played dumb, and people… more, or less left me alone. I didn’t expect anything from, Sienna though. She really kept that bottled up inside before she finally broke, and confessed to me.

Ghira: Why did you play dumb all those years then?

Jaune: There was… someone… Someone before the war. We were close, very close… Haa… We never, reached that level in our relationship… But, our eyes would always linger on one another, the way we spoke was different to how I spoke with anyone else… So… There could have been something there, but… Haa… The war broke out before I could work up the courage. And, I never wanted to tell her encase…

Ghira: Encase you died?

Jaune: Yeah… I didn’t want to start anything only to die before we could become something. Then the whole betrayal incident happened, and we lost contact… I have heard a few things about her, but it’s been over a decade since we last talked… So… Yeah. I just decided to keep playing dumb because I wasn’t sure what to do.

Ghira: But, Sienna wouldn’t have none of that?

Jaune: Hehe, like hell she would.

Ghira: Is that why you decided to date her, because she finally got through to you?

Jaune: No… Well, maybe a little. It has more to do with the fact that I knew if we started something, we would be in for the long haul. And, I want something to last a lifetime. I know I sound like I’m rushing it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen. And besides, Sienna makes me feel, happy, at peace. I hope things work pit between us. I really hope they do.

Ghira: I’m happy for you, for both of you. And, I hope you both find happiness in your life one day.

Jaune: Thanks, Ghira. That means… that means allot to hear from you.

Ghira: My pleasure, Jaune. Now, I must ask you somethings before anything else…

Jaune: Ohh~? Is this the fatherly talk about how I should treat his daughter?

Ghira: I’m not her father.

Jaune: True, but she, as well as I do consider you a father figure.

Ghira: Really? Well, thank you I’m honoured. But, relax, I’m not gonna ask you anything like that, you two are responsible adult, I don’t need to tell you anything like that. As for what ever bastard decides to date my daughter on the other hand…

Jaune: I’d better warn , Adam then…

Ghira: Hmm? Did you say something?

Jaune: Nothing of consequence. What is it?

Ghira: It’s just… Kali, and I couldn’t help but overhear some… some things last night.

Jaune: Ghira, you’re an adult; you can just say you overheard us having sex already.

Ghira: Okay then, any chance you can keep it down?

Jaune: Ghira… the walls here are plaster covered wood planks, the doors are paper glued on sticks, and the same goes for the windows. In a house like this, do you think we can really be all that quiet?

Ghira: But still, don’t you think you could at least be a little bit quiet?

Jaune: Can you keep, Kali quiet when you two do it?

Ghira: …

Ghira: Nope. Forgot it, that’s never going to happen…

Jaune: Haha! Yeah, pretty much,

~~~

Kali: So, how was it~?

Sienna: I can barely feel my legs, we went at it all night because of how big his aura is. And, we finally stopped when we both physically couldn’t go on anymore because of how exhausted we were. And, worst of all, it ended?!!

Kali: Sounds like you two had fun then, lots of fun at that.

Sienna: We did… Oh by gods we did… I swear, as soon as I can feel my legs again, I’m going after him again. Whether he likes it, or not…

Kali: Make sure to do some stretches before you do it next time then. Don’t want to pull a muscle.

Sienna: He! He’ll be the one doing the stretching, he’ll be stretching me in all the right ways~!

Kali: Oh how marvellous is that! Marvellous indeed~!

///

Hmm… Considering its Feb. 14, you can all consoder this the closest thing I did to a, Valentine’s Day, post, thingy.

Do enjoy.

[professorrw]

Truth or Dare

Pairing: gn reader x Wanda Maximoff

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, intoxication, thigh riding, fingering, big sister dynamic Natasha

A/N: Requests are open for one-shots, headcanons, imagines, and drabbles for My Hero Academia, Harry Potter, and Marvel! My taglist is open so if you’d like to be on that just tell me! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Liking someone, especially your friend, is hard. It isn’t hard to like someone, it’s hard to tell them. Wanda was a goddess in your eyes and you had a serious crush on her. Natasha gave you hell over it. She was like a big sister to you. 

You joined the Avengers when you were pretty young and she immediately took you under her wing. After being with them for a year she was basically your family, along with the rest of the Avengers. When Wanda joined you were glad to have someone closer to your age. It was refreshing to have a girl to hang out with other than Natasha. Not that something was wrong with her.

That friendship changed to something more on your end, or at least you thought it was only on your end. The part that Natasha found so funny was that you were so oblivious. It was obvious she liked you back but you didn’t seem to think so. But since Natasha knew and neither of you would act, she took matters into her own hands.

“Okay, let’s play a game guys!” she shouted.

“Oh how swell! A game!” Thor responded.

Clint groaned as he came out of his room and sat down on the couch with the growing crowd. You made a circle, some of you on the couch and some on the floor. You and Wanda were on the floor next to each other with Natasha sitting beside you.

“Okay so what’s the game?” Tony asked.

“Truth or dare, a simple kids game.”

“I can’t believe you think I’d play this sober. Wait I’ll be right back,” Tony said before he ran off to the kitchen. You all waited for him and he came back to the living room with bottles of alcohol and glasses. Clint was in the same boat as Tony. He sure as hell didn’t want to say or do anything and remember it. He was the first to take a glass and fill it with whiskey.

The rest of you followed and the game didn’t start until everyone had at least downed a whole cup.

Natasha started the game and it soon kicked off. The game of truth or dare started innocently and you more or less just made fun of each other. That was until Nat dared Thor to take off his shirt and then Tony thought he just had to take his shirt off too. 

The game quickly became more and more scandalous after that, more people taking off clothes, including you. All kinds of stuff was being dared at that point. Tony dared Bruce to take a shot off of Clint’s stomach and he was so wasted that he actually did it. It seemed like the only people not completely drunk were you, Natasha, and Wanda.

You didn’t want to do something you would regret so you laid off after two glasses. Wanda wasn’t big on drinking so she only had a cup. But Natasha was staying as sober as possible for the scheme she was working up.

Multiple rounds went by and it was Natasha’s turn again. She tapped her chin and looked around the group before her eyes landed on you. A mischievous grin spread on her face as she asked you, “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Okay… is it true you like someone in this room?”

Your mouth dropped open before you answered. “Yes.”

And even though the group was drunk and intoxicated this got their attention. They knew you were bisexual so it could be any of them. Wanda immediately turned to look at you. Out of everyone she was the most shocked. Her stomach fluttered, partly from hope and partly with stress. Of course she hoped you liked her but she also knew you could like any of the other hot people you hung out with.

“Who is it?” Wanda asked.

“You have to wait your turn! Right now it’s Y/N’s,” Natasha said.

Your face was hot and you were rushing to get the attention off yourself. “Wanda truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Um… have you seen Pietro naked?”

She did a half scoff, half laugh at your dumb question. “Yes I have, he’s my brother. Though it wasn’t pleasant, I'll tell you that.”

“Come on now. I’m sure I have all the ladies falling for me,” Pietro retorted.

Natasha’s plan was working wonderfully and she was shaking with anticipation for Wanda’s turn. She knew Wanda and she also knew that if Wanda found out Y/N liked someone she would have to know who it was.

“Wanda it’s your turn. Pick someone.”

“Y/N truth or dare?” Wanda asked.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss the person that you like.” Wanda had to pull herself together for this one. There was a possibility that the person you would be kissing wouldn’t be her. She watched you with unabated attention as your face flushed even further. It took you a minute to, what she assumed, gather your courage.

You turned to her and cupped her cheek. The kiss was fast. You were already embarrassed and scared but it melted away when Wanda pulled you back in. The group around you whistled and cheered as their teammates made out right in front of them. Natasha sat back with a pleased smile. Her work there was done.

When you parted you were both out of breath. All you could do was stare at Wanda. You were relieved and filled with joy. She didn’t outright say it but you could tell from your kissing that she reciprocated your feelings.

“Okay guys I think this game is done!” Nat shouted. She was met with multiple boos but you gave her a grateful look. She winked back at you and ushered you out of the room. “Go! You two have things to talk about.”

You sheepishly smiled and looked at Wanda, who was positively beaming. You walked to your room and flopped onto your bed. Maybe if you closed your eyes you would wake up and find it was all a dream. Wanda sat on the bed next to you and giggled. You opened your eyes and found out that it wasn’t a dream.

You really kissed Wanda and she kissed you back. What a day. After that you two talked and made your relationship official. It was an understatement to say that you were giddy with excitement. You gushed to Natasha constantly about how much you loved Wanda and after months of you two dating it died down. Being with Wanda was so natural it just felt right.

You were closer than ever, not just mentally but physically. A bonus of your relationship was that you had free roam of your gorgeous girlfriend. You waited a few months before you had sex together. You didn’t want to rush anything and Wanda was okay with that. She was content with kissing you but when you had been dating for four months and you started making moves she was excited.

You had been sitting on the couch together by yourselves and your hand was rubbing Wanda’s thigh. With each stroke you got closer and closer to her pussy until you were actually brushing a hand on it. Her breath hitched and you looked at her for confirmation. She nodded and you were quick to pick her up and take her to your room.

You set her on your bed and dissolved into kissing her. Your eyes were closed but you could hear the lock on the door clicking and assumed Wanda had shut the door with her powers. You smiled against her lips and she let out a little breathless laugh. You left her lips and traveled down to her jaw. Her nimble fingers threaded into your hair and she tilted her head back to give you better access to her throat.

Your hands were at either side of her body and one of your thighs was in between her legs. She scooted further down until she was rubbing against your thigh. You realized just a second later and quit kissing her neck.

“Lay down,” she said. You did as she asked and switched spots with her. She was on her knees just out of reach of you. She slid her shorts and underwear down and your breath caught in your throat. She looked so absolutely beautiful it was like nothing you’d ever seen before. She stayed in that same position, shorts pulled at her knees while a hand snaked down to her cunt.

She swallowed thickly and suppressed the need to touch her. You would get your time, right now she was getting herself ready. From what you could see Wanda was fingering herself, and doing a good job of it too. She was biting her lip and her eyes were shut. Her face could be described as blissful. You still thought she looked like a goddess, like a painting.

She quit sucking on her lip and let it go with a pop. Your whole body was tingling and your mouth was open in a trance. Every part of you wanted her, to make her feel good.

“Wanda come here,” you whined.

She smiled and pulled her hand away from her vagina. She crawled on top of you, cunt hovering over your thigh. You held her steady with hands on her waist. She was holding onto your headboard that was a few inches above your head as she lowered herself. She moved back and forth on your bare thigh and it soon had your girlfriend’s natural juices on it.

You raised the hem of her top and stuck your head underneath the fabric. You planted a line of kisses from her belly button to her cleavage before you pulled her bra down so her nipples popped out. You took one of the hard buds in your mouth and sucked on it. Wanda moaned above you and started moving faster.

She was grinding against you and you were sucking on her sensitive boobs, both actions working her into a frenzy. You kept on sucking and gently biting, even taking a hand and cupping Wanda’s ass with it.

While your mouth was attached to her chest your hand was attached to her butt, kneading and squeezing the plump flesh. You were still suckling when you heard her moan out, “I’m about to cum.”

You took your head out of her shirt so you could see her when the moment came. “Come on, cum for me darling.”

Her face twisted and then smoothed when you felt the slick, sticky cum on your thigh. She slid against you once more, wiping the cum off of her. When she was off and laying next to you you gathered it on your finger and popped it into your mouth. The savory taste filled your mouth and you made a long mmm sound when you were finished.

You pulled Wanda close to you and she rested her head on your chest.

“You taste good,” you whispered.

She giggled, “I love you.”

[mrwinterr]

Who Do You Love?

Pairing: David Budd x Female Reader

Summary: After some months that David’s been working for the Home Secretary, you notice he’s been acting differently. Not wanting to overanalyze the situation, the signs are just too hard to ignore, so when it’s time to confront him there’s only one real question to ask.

Warnings: Bodyguard (2018) TV series spoilers! Adult themes. Explicit language. Light smut. Infidelity/cheating. Mentions of war, PTSD, political assassination, death, pregnancy/miscarriage, paranoia, and attempted suicide. Sad vibes, probably. We’re not gonna have a good time.

Disclaimer: This piece goes hand-in-hand with All For You. It’s not required to read beforehand, but it would be nice. As far as the TV series, yeah, don’t even read these if you’re still planning to watch the show. If you don’t care, you may proceed.

Title Inspiration: “Who Do You Love?” by The Chainsmokers ft. 5 Seconds of Summer

A/N: I want a happy David, I really do, but I’m a heartless writer. I took a break from the smut, so it’s not a huge bulk of the fic this time. I hope y’all still like it! Happy New Year! 

Another night alone was not unusual for you as of late, having grown accustomed to it ever since David had taken up the job of protecting Home Secretary, Julia Montague. Neither you nor David could’ve foreseen his courageous efforts in neutralizing the terrorist attack on the train back home would thrust him into his new position, furthermore the extent of its outcome in his personal life.

It wasn’t a hidden secret that David resented most politicians, and you knew of Julia from the news and her political ambitions in pushing a bill to increase security surveillance. David’s job put a big emphasis on confidentiality, so for his superiors to throw him into a public political warzone was a bit suspicious to you. There was something that didn’t add up, and you couldn’t just outright ask David whose side he was on in all this.

After neglecting the mountain of dirty laundry, tonight was dedicated to the domestic chore. It was nothing out of the ordinary mixing your batch with David’s, but he had a habit of leaving things in his clothes pockets, so it was routine for you to check everyone. You’d moved onto one of the costly tailored button-ups he wore to work and feel something protruding from the shirt pocket. You dig your hand in and fish out a tube of lipstick. Strange. You didn’t use this brand of cosmetics, and even more so the garment smelt different.

Under normal circumstances, this type of discovery would raise a red flag, but you recall one of David’s first days on the job as her bodyguard, the intern had clumsily spilt Julia’s coffee all over her outfit just before she was about to do a live interview, and David had offered her the shirt off his back, essentially saving the day. The man was just too dedicated to his job sometimes, so you shrug it off, but this wouldn’t be the first time you would notice something out of place.

It really started after the first assassination attempt that was made on Julia’s life. With the rate she was going at, her political status had made her a prime target to those opposed to RIPA-18. It was very frightening, you figured that much for her, David had seen worse in war. You just about had a heart attack when you reunited with him that night, the blood still stained on his clothes and missed splotches on his skin.

The both of you clung onto each other all night, lost within the throes of passion. It might as well have been one of the most intense nights yet, even then you could tell something changed by his movements. You didn’t think much about it at first because there’s already so much wrong with him, you’ve yet to learn all his mood swings.

Then one day you’d gotten sick, and discovered it was because you were pregnant with David’s child. One of the few things that made you forget about all the aches and pains that David unintentionally caused, was remembering the beautiful smile on his face when you revealed the news to him. You knew how much happiness Ella and Charlie brought him, you could only imagine what that would feel like, your own family with David.

He was so overjoyed in the beginning. He had quickly phoned his mother, who’d visited and even stayed a few days with you when David’s new position became more demanding of him, claiming she was worried about you being alone. You didn’t deserve to experience this alone, but it was sure heading that way.

Lately, you’ve found yourself occupying the Budd household quite more than often when David’s mom went back home. With David being on duty almost 24/7, you were completely alone, so the little family welcomed you.

Legally, on paper, David was still married to Vicky. It was something you weren't going to verbally admit bothered you, but oddly enough it did. What with the mood you’ve been in as of late, it ate at a part of you. They were separated and the divorce papers were well on track until David’s “promotion” paused the process.

There’s still not a hostile fiber in you towards Vicky. She’d moved on well, been on several dates with someone else, and things were looking great for her. It was lowkey, not even David knew about it, not that he even stuck around or bothered to care. It had to come out eventually because it would affect Ella and Charlie’s lives.

You watch as Vicky rounds the table after placing a cup of tea in front of you then sitting in the seat across and asking how you’re holding up.

You contemplate for a split second if you should be honest or not, but who else could you confine to at the moment? No one else could possibly understand. Vicky herself may not even, but she knew David more than most people did, so surely, she could see where you’re coming from to some degree, right?

Letting out a big sigh, you answer her truthfully, “I’m...not well, Vicky,” your eyes drop down to the cup in front of you, finger tracing the rim, the hot cloud of smoke of the concoction almost burns your skin.  

“Oh, poor thing,” she says, extending her hand over to place it on top of your other one on the table, “it’s the pregnancy. It has to be. It’s taking a toll on you. I can tell.” You look up at her and almost want to cry. No one noticed it was more than symptoms of pregnancy. You were bottling up so much.  

“Let me tell you, while I love Ella and Charlie, pregnancy was not a breeze…” she started to ramble, but you quickly cut her off, exhausted of people telling you the same thing over and over, unintentionally, blaming the innocent baby.

“No. I don’t think it’s that. I don’t want to blame anything on the pregnancy,” you say straight up. You got yourself into this mess, you went headfirst knowing the baggage David came with and you knew full well that protection wasn’t at the forefront in the affairs. Ready or not, you both went in this together and brought a baby into the picture.

Vicky stares, confused, but still genuinely concerned, “then what else could be wrong?” When you didn't immediately respond, she knew it had to be one other thing, or person, and you just didn’t want to admit, well out loud, “David?”

You only nod; you knew you were going to have to face the music sooner or later. So, you start listing things you’ve observed that have caused you to grow suspicious over the course of the last few months. You just hoped you didn’t sound like a mad woman in front of her.

The one time your phone had died, and he let you use his to place a food delivery. You couldn’t unlock his phone, trying every possible combined set of numbers close to David, only to come to a conclusion that the access code had changed. Visibly distressed, he realizes you were attempting to unlock his work phone. You knew that was his though. What work phone?

You didn’t even know he had one of those, let alone why did it have the same crack on the screen in the exact same spot as his personal one? You feigned stupidity and blamed it on exhaustion. Deep down David knew you were suspecting something was up, and he ended up placing the order for dinner that night himself.

The other time you confronted David about coming home smelling heavily of another woman. Whatever, whoever, her perfume was strong, and it made you nauseous. The pregnancy didn’t even do you any favors on this one with your senses heightened and overly sensitive.

Of course, he smelled of another woman, the person he was assigned to protect. You could see all the holes in his alibi. He was lying, and it hurt most when he indirectly admitted your mood swings were irritating him and then flipped it all on you, saying you were overthinking the situation and getting all paranoid for no reason. Accused you of not trusting him, when truth was you had the utmost faith in him, but not when the evidence was piling up.

There’s a solemn look that washed over Vicky’s face. She had expected more tales of David’s PTSD, but none of what you spilled alluded to it. This time David couldn’t blame the effects of war on your suspicions. However, Vicky knew that this was you and David, and if there was a pair that could survive love’s tumultuous doings then it was you two.

“There’s a lot of coincidences, yes, but this is you and David,” she says, grasping your hand for support because she could see the moisture in your eyes building up, “is it silly of me to admit I was always jealous of you,” she confesses, trying to steer the conversation a different route.

She didn’t want you to think she was brushing off your worries, but to remind you that everything you and David had been through to get to this point to be together, whatever you both were dealing now wasn’t anything you two couldn’t overcome. There were high hopes for you and David in Vicky’s mind.  

A small smile cracks your face, and you bring your vacant hand up to dab at the inner corner of your eyes, just before the tears start to race down, “jealous? Of what?” It was almost shocking to think you had something she was jealous of.  

“Every time you visited us,” she starts, “I could tell David held so much admiration for you,” and you know she’s not trying to hurt your feelings, but it’s taking a bit to figure out where she’s going with this.

“That’s silly,” you scoff lightly, “you both got married and had two kids, surely there was no doubt,” then bring the cup up to your lips for a small sip.  

“But there was and look where we ended up?” she says. Your lips cave in to form a tight line in response, and carefully place the cup back down on the dish, before she follows up, “you two are finally together.”

“Vicky,” you pipe up, not knowing where to begin. It was never your intention to steal David’s heart away from another.

“I’m not saying any of this because I’m mad at you. No. I’ve never truly hated you. You’re a good person and you’re finally getting your happily ever after. Don’t ever stop fighting for it,” she comes out wholeheartedly, and this time you make no attempt to keep the tears at bay. It stung to hold them back anyways.

Vicky gets up from her seat, walking the short steps to yours, to wrap her arounds around you. You immediately cling onto her arms and just cry, finally letting everything out.

“Seriously, don’t think of the worst,” she starts advising, while rubbing your back, “David will always come back to you,” she pulls you away from her before reminding you, “you knew going into this wasn’t going to be easy.”  

You feel so pathetic. What she said was completely true, you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. There’s no doubt you love David and want to be with him through the good, the bad, and the ugly, so you nod and try to keep your chin up. It wasn’t to appease her, you were going to get back up, because if not for David, then for the baby.

Suddenly, the front door busts open and Ella and Charlie are bustling into the kitchen, where you and Vicky were. Quickly wiping away the tears, you both noted that school had just let out.

They were ecstatic to see you, especially Charlie as he had currently been experiencing issues of his own adjusting to school. They lifted your spirits greatly; they were more fascinated by the baby growing in you and couldn’t wait to meet him or her. You absolutely adored them. They looked like David and the whole time they were talking your ear off; you wonder to yourself if your own kid will look more like you or David. 

David’s thrusts were deep and good; you made no attempt to hold it in, letting him know exactly how he was making you feel. Nails digging into his firm buttocks, pulling him closer to you, wanting him to just keep going and going; the chase proving to be almost just as good as the climax. You feel one of his hands run up your side and his large hand starts groping your breast, adding onto the pleasure he was plaguing your body with, while the other held onto the small of you back, bringing your hips up to his.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his hot breath fanning against your skin and hear his murmured swears and praises. The air in the room was thick, and for the majority of the intimate activity, the only sounds that travelled around the apartment consisted of heavy breathing, moans, gasps, whines and skin slapping, until the annoying distinct ringtone started screeching from a few feet away.

You’d learned to distinguish his work alarm since the supposed mix-up, and it pinged constantly, agitating you. David’s pace notably falters, and the rhythm you’d both built started dwindling, the needy side of you started to panic because he was going to stop and you desperately wanted to come, even more so come with him, but it looked like neither of you would be as you feel one of David’s hands leave your body and make an attempt to reach out to the device.

You grab a hold of his wandering hand and lace your fingers together, hoping to keep him close and forget about the alert. You buck your hips forward, urging him to continue. His grip tightens and cock twitches inside of you in response. Your strategy almost deems successful when he picks up momentum, each swivel of his cock gradually bringing out the starved woman in you. Not to mention, your sex drive had heightened too, you’d longed and craved any affection he could give you.

“David, baby…” you whine, holding a hand to his face, forcing him to keep his gaze on you and only you, the ringtone almost drowning out, “...don’t. Don’t. Fucking. Stop...please,” you resort to begging and hook a leg over his body, the new angle allowing him to thrust deeper.

And just when you’re about to tip over the edge, the incessant ringing persists, and David’s halt unintentionally pulls you back down. He unwinds your sweaty clasped hands, no doubt in search of the phone once more, however, you had more leverage than he did, and your hand beats his hand to it. He wasn’t that far behind as his hand covers yours, and he tries to grab the phone to answer the call, but instead you swat it off the nightstand.  

“What the fuck?” David says aggravatedly, while attempting to reach his phone on the ground, all while he’s still inside of you, pressing your body deeper into the mattress, but careful to not crush you.

“No, fuck you, David,” you spit back, and shove his body off of yours. You scoot over to one side of the bed and try to level your breathing. You were both so close!

“What is wrong with you?” He asks, forgetting the phone on the ground.

“Do you really have to answer that?” You ask, attitude on full display.

“It could be an emergency at work,” he tries reasoning.

“You’re not on the clock, David!” You dispute, sitting up, clutching the sheets to your body to conceal yourself.

“That’s not the point! It could’ve been serious. Julia could be hurt,” he says, the words just coming out of his mouth, giving each excuse little thought. His mind was in a frenzy and you didn’t miss a single syllable.  

“You called her Julia,” you say just above a whisper, and suddenly you have an urge to vomit, but you do your best to control it.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what that meant at all to you.

It hurt more that he didn’t realize there was anything wrong and if he did, he was doing a good job at hiding something and making you look like the bad guy. You lightly shake your head, feeling defeated, and lie back down, settling on your side facing the opposite direction of him.

What was going on in David’s head? You tried so hard to understand him. It was like walking on eggshells, and even you had a breaking point. It was just sometimes too much because it felt like you were the only one putting in the effort to keep this relationship afloat.

The bed shifts significantly, letting you know that he’s gotten out of it. What felt like an hour, but were only a few seconds, the room was silent, tension still heavy in the room, and neither of you were willing to be the first to crack. You lie still, unmoving and making no attempt to stop him. It’s only when you hear the swing of the bedroom door creak, you allow yourself to blink the tears in your eyes away.

He didn’t leave the apartment that much you could rest assured of. Rest? That was what you were having trouble with. Things weren’t getting any easier with David and you even though you vowed to yourself that you’d go through Hell for him, the pressure was getting too heavy on your heart and in return, you knew the distress wouldn’t be good for the baby.

Maybe it was all just paranoia, the stress of pregnancy, and you were taking things too personal. You could be understanding about a lot of things in David’s life, his terms and PTSD, his kids, and his job, but was it too much to ask of him to be understanding of you? You suppose you were being selfish, and you were really tired. The only way to help you sleep was to swallow your pride and admit you were wrong.

The rush of the cold air instantly surrounds your bare legs the second you throw the covers off your body to get out of the bed. You throw on the discarded oversized shirt to be decent. Your steps are light, and you’re kind of nervous and, dare you admit, ashamed of how you overreacted that it drove David to the point of sleeping on the couch. After all, you made him feel unwanted in his own bed, and he certainly had enough respect to not steal yours.

Just when you’re ready to apologize and ask him to go back to bed with you, he’s already sound asleep, his legs sticking out from the mere blanket covering his upper body. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up for that. Sleep didn’t find him easy and he seemed just as stressed as you were, so you don’t disturb him. It can wait, right? You turn around and head to your room, shut the door and pray sleep finds you soon.  

It didn’t and neither did the conversation. 

News of the blast at St. Matthews College, where Julia was presenting a speech, rocked not only the political world, but it was the forefront of every news channel and medium. Tons left injured or dead, and as if that wasn’t bad, David was being told Julia had not survived the bombing.

He’s clearly distraught, believing he’s failed her, and on top of that, the weight of his lies started to suffocate him. He was going to have to come clean to you about everything he’s done behind closed doors with Julia. You wouldn’t forgive him, he was sure of that, and if by some chance you did, it would take a hell of a long time for him to regain your trust.

How many more lives does he have to ruin or lose under his watch? It was becoming too much, and it was sad, as he stared at the gun in his hands, that he’d contemplated his next actions more than once, but he really didn’t know what he had left to do anymore. There was a lot actually, he had his kids, a baby on the way, and a new life to build with you, but he was far too gone at that moment.

It’s Vicky that finds him back at the apartment, cleaning the brass fragments from the wound on the side of his head. She quickly puts the pieces together, the notes on the table addressed separately to her, the children and you, and the admission from David that these were brass fragments of a bullet casing.

“Dave, what the fuck? What about Ella and Charlie? What about-” she starts going on but stops when he visibly cracks because he knows your name is next to come out of her mouth, “I’m taking you to the hospital,” she decides and is quick to put away her tools.

“No. No one can know about this,” David says adamantly. They start to argue about his injuries and how David hadn’t been aware that he fired a blank round before he asks her to go back home to the kids.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” she says grabbing a jacket and tries to reason that he shouldn’t be alone right now and maybe being around the kids and seeing you will open his eyes and realize what he was leaving behind had he successfully ended his life.

He couldn’t pretend living like he was okay. What had happened to Julia was not his fault. All David ever did was do his best to protect, protect his country, his family and her.

“You need to tell her,” Vicky says while she hands David a cap for him to cover the wound on his head.

“I don’t even know where she’s been the last few days,” he admits pathetically. His own girlfriend, the mother of his unborn child, he can’t even keep tabs on where she’s been this whole time. It made him feel even terrible that he’d neglected you.

“She’s been staying with the kids and I,” she reveals.

“What? Why is she there?” He asks, and quickly puts the cap on and gets up from his seat.

She didn’t tell David of your whereabouts earlier because you’d asked her not to and she politely respected that, but she knew now was not the time to take sides anymore. You two had to deal with your issues now.

“She shouldn’t be alone, Dave. She’s pregnant with your child and yet she’s going through it all by herself,” Vicky tells him.

“I never meant to bring her into any of this mess,” he says heavily, full of grief. He brought you into the madness that was his world and now you’re trapped in it, bringing a new life along for the ride.

“She loves you, David, don’t sell yourself short. She just feels like she’s been left in the dark. You need to talk to her,” Vicky advises him, “it may not be pretty, but you have to hear her out.”

She knew you couldn’t stand being alone in the apartment without being reminded of David constantly. You weren’t in a good place either and she wanted to help you both before it was too late. 

You’d been left behind at the house with Ella and Charlie in the other room watching TV, while Vicky was out looking for David. He wasn’t answering any of the phone calls she’s made, even ones made on your cell phone, there was no form of contact or communication from him. You knew he was there at the college; he was Julia’s bodyguard after all.

When you heard more than two voices return, you knew she’d brought David back and had told him you’d be here. You weren’t mad at her for ratting you out, it was going to come out eventually. Nothing ever stays hidden.

“You don’t normally wear a hat indoors,” Ella points out the cap on David’s head that stuck out like a sore thumb.

“You said it’s silly,” Charlie reminds his father.

“Then I’m being silly,” David responds as he watches his children chomp away at the slices of pizza in their hands.

While Vicky was on the phone cancelling her date tonight, you faintly hear the end of the conversation he was having with Ella and Charlie over their dinner. He still hadn’t even seen you. Then you hear his quiet, controlled sobs, but he couldn’t detain them enough and be strong around his kids.

“I just did something silly today,” he tells them.

“Wearing a hat?” Charlie asks innocently.

“That, too,” he replies as he clings onto them both in a group hug.

Vicky had just revealed to you of David’s suicide attempt moments ago. You’re numb. Clearly, Julia’s death had affected him rather deeply, so much that he thought killing himself was a solution.

He didn’t care about you or the baby. You both weren’t enough to save him or have anything to look forward to. You can’t even cry anymore. You wanted to lash out and get mad. She advises you to keep calm and think rationally, but you’re tired of thinking about all of this.  

Without warning, David enters the room you’d been staying in. You’re like stone on the couch, arms crossed and starting straight ahead of you, mindlessly at whatever TV program the kids left it on before retreating to the dining area. Your eyes cast themselves on David’s demure stance. He cautiously steps forward and hesitantly takes a seat next to you.

“Is it true?” You ask, breaking the silence and finally turn to look at him. He only nods in response, his head hangs low, ashamed. You felt like your heart didn’t have any parts to break anymore. The confirmation alone just felt like him stomping on it for added measure.

“Ok,” is all you say, biting down on your lip to prevent you from saying anything else. It was petty, but you’d refused to show him any remorse or sorrow of any kind.

“Is this where you’ve been the past few nights?” He questions, rather awkwardly too.

“Oh, so you’ve noticed I haven’t been home?” You ask bitterly.

He was really going to push your buttons. You’re not sure if Vicky was right about you and David having to talk. This wasn’t going to go well at all. You were not in an ideal mental and physical state to be talking about your problems with him, but if not now then when?

“Of course, I have. Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, almost appalled by the accusation, and watching as you get up from the couch to stand in front of him.  

“I hardly see you and when I do I find out that you just tried to kill yourself, so forgive me for not assuming I even ran as a mere thought in your messed-up head,” it was harsh, poking at his mental state, but you were so fed up, your mind was just as clouded, “...you didn’t think about me when you held the gun to your head,” you said ripping off his hat.

Your heart tightens in your chest as you stare at the wound and tears threaten to fall, but you don’t let them, “...and you certainly didn’t think about our baby when you pulled the trigger,” then chuck the cap at him, he makes no attempt to catch it as it lightly bounces off his chest and fall onto his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he says sincerely and making no attempt to hide his tears as they raced down, “I’m so fucking stupid,” and he gets up on his feet, ”...I need help.”

He’s not even going to use the excuse of work and you’re not expecting him to rat himself out and come clean about Julia just yet. David didn’t work like that and you were absolutely done with it. No, everything had to come out now.

“I know,” is all you say at first. He thinks it’s some form of forgiveness, him acknowledging his problem, until you follow up, “just admit it,” your voice changes in tone from anger and hurt to an icy one, “who do you love now, David?”

All while asking him that question, you’re trying to get his eyes to focus on you, but you simply cannot. He’s looking everywhere but, and it hurts.

“It’s Julia, isn’t it? Tell me!” You shout at his face. When he doesn’t answer immediately, your lips press down together and you don’t hold back the tears any longer, “I can’t believe you,” you say in disbelief, almost struggle to breathe right, “this shit has been keeping me up at night!”

You back away from him and cover your mouth, just to conceal your sobs so the rest of the family doesn’t hear you cry. They most definitely heard you yell, but you didn’t want to further trouble them anymore or cause a big enough scene for them to burst right through.

There hadn’t been a doubt in your mind that David loved you before, but just seeing how he couldn’t open up enough to tell you there was someone else during, filled you with more heartache. Maybe it would hurt less, you wouldn’t know unless it came straight from his mouth.

David starts crying as well and you honestly want to slap him, but instead you start saying nasty things, cutting him way worse than anything you could ever do physically, and you certainly don’t hold back. Claiming you two were never meant to be together, and the baby doesn’t mean anything especially in uniting you both.

“I’ll be surprised if this baby even survives,” you scoff thinking about a past experience, and how cruel life was gifting you this baby.

“What are you talking about? You’re not thinking about-“ David starts getting all frantic suddenly, and not thinking, he grabs both your arms in his hands, holding you in place.

“God no! I would never!” You say in disgust and pull away from him, “I can’t believe you’d think I would…”

“Then what did you mean?” He asks curiously.

“I never told you why I broke up with him,” you don’t really mention your ex’s name these days. While you’d both moved on as civil as the both of you could, it still pangs you to reminisce about the relationship and how it ended.

“He couldn’t handle the long distance,” he said thinking he knew.

“He only couldn’t after...” you pause, trying to decide if now was the time to reveal this secret. David had the right to know, after all, an incident like such could happen again.  

“After what? He was seeing someone else?” He grew increasingly anxious and almost ill towards the thought of another being unfaithful to you.

“No! It was my fault,” you don’t want to slander your ex at all. He couldn’t have prevented what happened to you across the other side of the world even if he tried. “I miscarried. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I woke up one day in my blood and the sharpest pain I’ve ever felt.”

You started reliving that day, how you were alone and the way your neighbors had to come to your aid. Your poor ex felt so helpless, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything for you, but the wave of depression afterwards had strained the relationship. It formally ended when you’d returned from studying abroad.

“I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” David says in shock. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, and if it was stupid to think all this time you could’ve easily had a life without him long before you two finally became a thing.

“It didn’t matter, David,” your voice finally regained strength, and wiped at the tears on your face of the memory, ”you and Vicky were so in love. There’s nothing you could’ve done for me.”

“That’s not true,” David persists.

“I would’ve turned you away, just like him,” you say so sure. David was your friend then, yes, but you didn’t need or owed him this before now.  

“You’re not going to lose this baby,” he promises.

“You don’t know that,” and you’re not trying to be a pessimist about this, you wanted this baby, but you were more than aware of the possibility it could happen again. Bad things just always seemed to be happening lately anyways.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’d protect you both with my last breath,” he vows, grabbing your hands, desperate to feel any part of you.

“I don’t need your protection, David,” your words continue to crush him, that was your subtle way of leaving him and he knew it, “I love you, David. I love you so much!” you say with plenty of emotion, and lightly squeeze his hands in yours, “...but you can’t even tell me who you love right now,” you point out, reluctantly removing your hands from his.

“You need to get help, David. If not for your family, me or the baby, please do it for yourself,” you say last, before placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“I’m going to get help...for you,” you hear David say determinedly just before you walk out of the room. It wasn’t all you wanted to hear, you wanted him to tell you he loved you back, but you wanted him to live easy once again even if that meant him not loving you.

You could manage on your own, and work something out when the baby arrives, but for now it was time for you to go home.

A/N: Nope. Sorry! Whenever Season 2 decides to come out, maybe we’ll get a happier David, so for now I don’t think I can let these two ride off into the sunset…but I can if you send 2020 off with giving this a like, reblog, comment or all of the above!

[linhlotus]

Lie, Lie, Lie

Adrien walked into their father’s office. It had been a long couple of months figuring out who they were and mustering the courage to tell their friends, but they were finally going to come out to their father. He was the last to know. Everyone had been accepting so far, but their father was the least predictable. He could scream at Adrien or outright refuse to acknowledge them or even, maybe, just maybe , accept them as they were.

Adrien spotted their father in front of Mother’s painting. They heard the words ‘dark wings rise’, and everything was momentarily enveloped in purple light. When the light died down, Hawkmoth was standing where Gabriel had been just moments before.

Adrien gasped and spun around, their confession dying on their tongue as they ran out of the office. They ran out the front door, racing past the car and down the street toward the school.

They heard Nathalie calling for them to come back but ignored her and kept running.

When they reached the steps to the school, they sat and caught their breath, trying to forget what they had seen only minutes before.

Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.

Everything was a lie. The modeling. The photoshoots. The publicity. It was all to increase the number of akumatizations when someone else’s dreams were crushed or their hearts broken.

Gabriel said he did what was best for Adrien but forcing them to do all these extracuriculars wasn’t what was best. Not seeing them for weeks at a time was not what was best.

Lie, lie, lie. That’s all he had every done. He didn’t even care about how it affected everyone else.

A wave of guilt crashed into them.

How had they not known? They lived in the same house. Adrien worked for him. And, yet, they still hadn’t had any clue that he could be Hawkmoth.

What was wrong with them? Were they just destined to be alone and unhappy?

Cool tears bubbled up and cascaded down their hot cheeks, forging salty little trails on their skin.

Why was it always them ? Why couldn’t any of this happen to someone else? Just once, they wished their pain on someone else. Someone stronger.

They knew it was selfish, but they couldn’t bring themself to care right now. Their father was Hawkmoth.

Movement from the left brought them out of their stormy thoughts and back to reality. A light yellow limousine pulled up in front of them and they brushed the tears off their cheeks. They sniffed and tried to pull themself together before someone saw.

Chloe stepped out of the car and walked over to them.

“Hey, how’s my favorite person today?” she chirped as she hugged them and kissed them on the cheek.

“I’m fine,” Adrien smiled and tried to make it believable.

She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes like the secret to immortality was written on their face in code and she was trying to decipher it.

“No, you aren’t. Don’t lie to me, Adrikins. We’ve been friends for, what, ten years now? I can tell when you’re okay, and right now, you aren’t. What’s wrong?”

“My . . .”

Their face crumpled.

“My father is Hawkmoth.”

Tears squeezed out of their eyes once again and Chloe wrapped her arms around them. They buried their face in her shoulder and sobbed.

“I never even considered the possibility. It’s my fault that he’s been terrorizing Paris for the last three years. I tried so hard to stop him, but maybe I just wanted to think I was doing something when I was actually supporting him. I’m the reason. It’s my fault. I’m worthless.”

“Listen to me.”

Chloe tipped their shoulders and made them face her.

“You are not worthless. And it is not your fault. Now, why don’t you take a deep breath and tell me what happened?”

“But-“ they started.

“Deep breath!” Chloe practically screamed.

Adrien was so stunned that all they could do was as she’d told them. She’d never yelled at them. Never even raised her voice.

“Now.” Her voice was calm and soothing like they were discussing their favorite books over coffee and croissants. “Why don't you tell me what happened?”

They told her everything. The reason they went to their father’s office, what they saw, and everything that had happened after, finishing with her arriving at the school and seeing them on the steps.

When they had finished, they were sobbing again and Chloe gave them a hug.

By now, students were arriving at the school, staring at the famous model —who had been reduced to a sniveling mess— and the mayor’s daughter —who was trying to console them— both ignoring the incoming students.

“It’s okay, Adrikins, it’ll be okay, we can figure something out. Why don’t you meet me at my house after school and we can decide what to do about it?”

Adrien sniffed and wiped their nose.

“Okay,” they croaked.

“We should probably go inside now so you can clean up before class.”

She smiled sympathetically.

“Remember, it is not your fault.”

Adrien nodded and made their way up the stairs and to the restroom, still not believing what Chloe had told them.

Hey, I'm so glad I got this prompt! I've been wanting to write something with an LGBTQ+ character for a while and this was just the push I needed to get started. Thank you so much! This was really fun to write! Let me know if there's anything that you see needs to be changed. Thank you to my wonderful beta eh-223! Any also a huge thanks to my sensitivity reader and cousin @Redtailed_Avas!

next

[theonceandfutureking6481]

BBC's Merlin Season 1 Episode 4: The Poisoned Chalice Analysis

This is one of my favourite episodes, in this season, mainly for Merlin and Arthur. They are wonderful in this episode, and this is the first episode where you really see them starting to truly care about each other. This is a show fundamentally about love and the relationships between every character, and Merlin and Arthur are at the core of the show. Everyone in this episode though is so brave, and I admire them all so much. I talk a lot about a lot of different elements of Merlin on here but what I really love about this show is how much the characters inspire me, how much I admire them because I'm not sure I could ever be as brave as these characters, but I'd like to be.

Merlin's courage

There's not much in detail I can say about this but Merlin is so brave at the start of this episode. To burst into the king's hall and publicly accuse another king of attempting to poison Arthur. It's funny but one of the parts of Merlin's courage I most admire isn't his bravery to die for Arthur, it's his willingness to speak out when somethings wrong, his willingness to publicly embarrass himself, his willingness to be brave even when he could be wrong. It's a reachable form of courage, I don't think any of us frequently (or ever) have the opportunity to die for others, but in many ways the fact that we could all be as brave as Merlin in this way, that's what makes it feel so much more unattainable and thus more admirable.

The bigger courage though really is when Merlin drinks from the goblet, honestly even though Uther made him, Arthur probably would have drunk it but Merlin didn't let him. Merlin knew he would die if he drunk from that goblet, because he believed Nimueh to be telling the truth (which she was), but (as Arthur says) "he did it anyway." To meet death so willingly, it's not like jumping in front of someone in the moment in a battle, he had to make the choice to drink that poison because he is willing to sacrifice his life for Arthur's. And it hasn't got anything to do with destiny yet, he cares about Arthur, Arthur's his friend and Merlin's a good person. It's just a very noble moment for Merlin, Uther was making him but at the same time you could see Merlin choosing to drink from it, that's a choice and that was incredibly noble.

Arthur and Uther

There is tension between Arthur and Uther in this episode, between their views on the world and honour. It is, I think essentially summed up in.

Arthur: Because his life's worthless?

Uther: No, because its worth less than yours.

It's funny, you can see Uther's perspective here. He is right about one thing, Arthur is the future king, even if he's not inherently worth more than Merlin the stability of the kingdom rests on a secure succession and Arthur is Uther's only heir, there is more at stake here.

But Arthur's also right, a world in which any single person's life is protected more than others because of their social position is not a good place. It is not something Arthur believes in, but in Uther's world its just a given, it's not even a question that people ask.

Uther: This boy wont be the last to die on your behalf

Arthur: I can't accept that

Arthur never accepts this inevitability, he always seeks to risk his life first before any one else's and people follow him because of that, people (even his enemies) see the nobility in him because of that. His refusal to accept what to Uther appears to be an inevitability of kingship (Not a welcome one granted but one nonetheless) is what's going to make him a better king than Uther. As Morgana emphasises when she's persuading Arthur to go.

Morgana: And what sort of king would Camelot want? One that would risk his life to save that of a lowly servant, or one that does what his father tells him to?

Isn't this really just the point, Arthur will be a better king than his father because for him his right to rule is in some way always premised on his fulfilment of what he sees as right. Arthur is always trying to prove himself, especially in the early seasons. In Season 2 Episode 2: The Once and Future Queen when Arthur is fighting in a tournament under an alias so people don't know its him (and they will hopefully not let him win), you really see this.

Gwen: You have nothing to prove, least of all to me.

Arthur: I have everything to prove, to myself.

This is the fundamental point, Arthur is always trying to prove himself often to his father or others but always primarily to himself. Because he needs to prove to himself that he can rule Camelot, that he is deserving of it, so for the fact that he's going to be king to hold any weight he needs to do what he thinks is right, because if he doesn't then what sort of king would he be anyway?

This ties I think into what I mentioned in the last episode about Merlin and the greater good. The idea that Merlin never really makes the choice to kill Morgana or Mordred, except for in a moment where it was Morgana or Arthur, where it was a certain in the moment choice. Yes, he reaches a point where he tries to let them die but this is different to outright murder, and I think perhaps a Merlin who would have killed them is not a the Merlin we know, it is not a Merlin that could have formed Camelot. Arthur and Merlin's goodness comes from always trying to do the right thing, whatever the sacrifice to themselves, and if they hadn't been those sort of people then there is no way they could have been people who made a better kingdom.

Gaius: Arthur may give you a hard time, but at heart he's a man of honour. Not many people would have risked what he did for a servant

Uther

Uther's interesting in this episode, he has one of his worst moments in the show, not the worst thing he's ever done but certainly one of the worst things we witness. He purposefully lets Merlin die, we could understand it when he wasn't letting Arthur go after him, but to try to destroy Merlin's only hope for a cure to teach his son a lesson, that is cruel and so wrong. This takes valuing Arthur's life more than Merlin's to a whole other level, he values Arthur's obeying of him more than he values Merlin's life.

This goes to another feature of Uther's character I was just thinking about. He constantly mistakes control for love. He seeks to control both his children, he wants them to obey him, and if they openly defy him or disagree with him he punishes them. But he does love them, probably more than he loves anything else. When Morgana stages a coup against him and tells him how much she hates him he is broken, and he literally never recovers he does love them that cannot be denied but he spends so much of his life mistaking his controlling them for an expression of his love. It is an expression of his fear, he is scared of being out of control as he was when his wife died. Magic can be dangerous but mostly it caused him great suffering (although really it was him), so he seeks to control it absolutely, there is no nuance there and this is how he behaves towards his children. Hate and fear are terrible things to be motivated by, and Uther shows that. His hate comes from his fear, and his cruelty comes from there as well.

One thing, Uther does accept his fault at the end of this episode. It's not really adequate but its better than nothing and in its own way shows that Uther is capable of character development, and the fact that he will fail to do it in the most important ways is sad. His moment when he says to Arthur that Nimueh "is evil", it is so clear he is talking more to himself than anyone else. Isn't that a sign of trying to persuade yourself, he has to tell himself that Nimueh's evil cause ultimately she was just doing what he asked, and if he doesn't villainise her absolutely than its his fault too.

The one moment that really does redeem Uther a little in this episode is when he tells Arthur that "You did the right thing... I'm proud of you Arthur, never forget that." The last comment is telling, Uther knows he's not the best father, he knows that Arthur probably doesn't realise that Uther is proud of him. So the 'never forget that' is a reminder, I think, for when Uther inevitably forgets that himself. It is a reminder, for us, in its own way that Uther is trying to be a good father, and at least in this realm Uther realises that he very often fails.

Morgana

One interesting thing I noticed in this episode was how frustrated Morgana is with her life. I've never really noticed it before, but its in everything she says and does, even in the episodes before this. Even before she turns against Arthur and Uther and Camelot she is angry, not just at them, she's angry at her life. You can tell she feels like she doesn't have the power to do anything, like she's being controlled and perhaps like she isn't able to anything good or right because of Uther and her position, she feels pity for all the magic users but she is a part of the body that persecutes them. How do you reconcile that?

Morgana: Sometimes you have to do what you think is right and damn the consequences

There is so much frustration in that, and everything she says in this scene. I don't know exactly what this says about Morgana's character or her eventual place in the story but its interesting to note. Perhaps its to say her hatred of Uther and eventually Arthur isn't only because of her sympathy for magic users and eventually her own fear and feelings of being unloved but perhaps has its roots in her anger at this time, in Uther's control and her own powerlessness.

Merlin and Arthur

This is Merlin and Arthur's episode, so its kind of funny it took me so long to get to them, but there's really not that much to analyse in the wider scheme regarding them. They just are, and they are wonderful.

This is the episode where you see they do truly care about each other and they are truly good friends They risk their lives for each other with barely a second thought, and yes that is partially their own honour and decency but it is also fundamentally their care for each other that motivates them. You can tell when Merlin's thinking about destiny when he saves Arthur, it becomes such a huge part of his characterisation later on even though he loves Arthur more by that point he also admires him more so Arthur's destiny seems more important. Merlin doesn't really admire Arthur that much yet, he respects him and cares about him but the sheer admiration he will have for him comes later, and it is that admiration that makes him care even more about Arthur's destiny, because he believes in it far more. Right now though it is just their goodness and their friendship that motivates them.

The final moment between them though is beautiful. The moment when Arthur goes to Gaius' chambers just to check that Merlin's all right, even though he's obviously been told he is. He brushes it aside as usual, brushes how much he does actually care about what happens to Merlin (I mean Arthur did just go on a perilous quest that could have led to his death for him so I think Merlin gets it). But the moment at the end of that scene is lovely. There is just such mutual respect and recognition of each other and what they've done for each other, and the way they look at each other is just so wonderful.

Merlin: Thank you

Arthur: You too

Nimueh

One quick note about her. We will find out eventually what her motivations really are, that she's obviously not just evil. That she is angry at Uther and understandably so. And I wonder if in her there is a parallel for Uther I hadn't considered before. Both of them were involved in Igraine's death and Arthur's birth. And it was as a result of this action that Uther outlawed sorcery and began the great purge. She out of everyone knows best how hypocritical Uther really is. And in her own way, though it is obviously not her fault, it is her actions that set off the great purge. Uther made the choice to blame her and all magic but nonetheless it was a spell she cast that was the trigger, and I wonder if in her own way she feels guilty (just as Uther feels guilty about his wife's death) but like Uther she takes it out in anger rather than guilt. I'm not saying she should feel guilty, perhaps over Igraine's death but certainly not the great purge. However, she most probably does, and like Uther I think she's refusing to feel that guilt, and to avoid that guilt she chooses hatred and anger instead.

Bravery

Everyone in this episode though, is so brave. Gwen, Merlin, Arthur and Gaius all do risky, brave things that could get them killed, though maybe not killed in Gwen's case but certainly in huge trouble. Gwen sneaks into the dungeons and Gaius does magic. We will learn more about Gaius' character later but he is in many ways not a brave person, he is the sort who witnesses injustice and stays quiet, he's not brave. But he's brave here, he does magic, for Merlin, because he loves Merlin like a son. All the courage and bravery in this show comes from the love people have for others, and that's an important message, that the people we love and our own ability to love others can inspire us to be better people and to be brave.

Their immediate response to Merlin's apparent death moreover is guilty, they have nothing to feel guilty about, it's Uther's fault, but they blame themselves anyway. There is in that a contrast to Uther, who refuses to blame himself. They don't take their pain out in anger, they accept it and even though they have nothing to be guilty for the fact that their immediate response is guilt does say they are better people, braver people than Uther.

Other things

Morgana holding that butter knife ready to fight Bayard's men is the funniest thing ever. Like its an impressive butter knife, but it is still so clearly a butter knife.

Also so many bad guys plans in this show rely on Arthur or Merlin being fundamentally good people, like when your plan involves using people's goodness against them you need to re-evaluate your choices in life. I suppose its part of the point though- that they are willing to harm the innocent or take advantage of goodness in their anger. Uther punishes goodness in this episode.

My new motivational quote—> Gaius: "As the Old proverb says: Hard work breeds..........a harder soul." Merlin: "There is no way that's a proverb. You just made that up."

[barry-j-blupjeans]

31 from the touch list? Please?

31 (touches). doing a pinky swear

((prompt list here - still accepting!!))

u didn't request any ships/characters specifically so here's Magnus n Lucretia (platonic)

--

It was five days back into a new cycle and Lucretia still wasn't talking to him, which Magnus was trying to accept. Last year hadn't been great for any of them, he was sure, but it was specifically terrible for Magnus, Barry, and Lucretia. There hadn't been any humans on that plane but there had been a council. The world was full of strange and mysterious oddities that the council set out to study. Being freshly new and odd, the council had taken it upon themselves to-

Study was putting it lightly.

Barry had been taken first, under the prose that the council just wanted to speak to him, privately. The "private meeting" went on for much longer than they had agreed upon and when they had gone to look for Barry, he hadn't been there.

Davenport had made Lucretia and Magnus promise not to leave the ship. They did so, Magnus less willing than Lucretia, and well-

Magnus was usually good at following orders. But there were lives at stake. Humans weren't the only ones being hurt by the council and the breaking point for him had been seeing a dog-like creature dragged into the research center, as Davenport made him stand back and out of the way.

He tried sneaking out in the middle of the night, but Lucretia had caught up with him. They argued for a bit about Davenport's rule and then set out together, to go find Barry. Lucretia had made Magnus promise- promise, wholeheartedly- that he wouldn't do anything rash. Magnus agreed, knowing how he was, and without the intent to actually follow through.

He had sort of... broken that promise upon seeing what was going on inside the research center. Even now, thinking about it made him sick. He felt guilty, after re-gen, for breaking his word, but even more guilty upon the realization that his actions had lead Lucretia to death for the first time ever.

That's probably why she wasn't talking, thinking logically about it. Taako and Lup had told him the story of what happened after (once they were done mobbing Barry, that is). It had been a grizzly sight and they had even convinced Davenport to let them burn down the facility once they rescued everyone inside. The sadness of missing a revolution was outmatched by the stinging regret he felt every time he saw Lucretia.

"Just- talk to her," Lup groaned, head in her hands, after Magnus had come to her for the fifth time to talk about it. She swept the papers she had been working on aside and turned to face him.

"Look, Mags, both of you are, putting it nicely, stubborn little shits- don't give me that look, you know you are. The rest of us are, too, that's why we're not perma-dead yet. But babe, you can't just let it lie. It's just gonna end with you two crying at each other and then getting over it. C'mon dude."

"But," Magnus started. Lup rolled her eyes.

"Lucy's like a sister to you, yeah?" Lup asked and Magnus nodded, frowning. "Okay, then take it from me, someone who has a terrible, horrible brother, whom I love very dearly. This fight, or whatever, isn't helping anyone. Communication is key when it comes to any relationship, even platonic ones. Stop being so scared that she's mad at you and start being scared that you might lose your friendship if you don't do anything."

"Right," Magnus said, a little more determined. "Okay, yeah. Thank you."

"Uh-huh," Lup said, turning back to his papers. "If you see Barry on your way tell him that, uh- the experiment we started earlier is going well."

"Is that code for something?" Magnus asked, watching the way Lup's face split into a sly grin.

"Not that I'll tell," she said, winking.

--

It took until that night for Magnus to properly work up the courage to talk to Lucretia, which made him feel stupid. He could run into a swarm of the Hunger feeling nothing but excitement, but the idea of talking with Lucretia about what had happened last cycle made him feel almost sick to his stomach.

In the end, he knocked on Lucretia's door half an hour before dinner. There was a shuffle from inside and then the door opened a bit and Lucretia peaked out. She didn't look surprised to see him there. If anything, she looked just about as nervous as Magnus felt.

"Alright," Lucretia said. "Come in."

She opened the door wider and beckoned Magnus inside. He had been in here before, of course. There was a slowly filling bookshelf of her journals, and journals she had yet to use. Her sheets were a dark, royal blue, from a fabric shop from a few cycles back. There was an easel in the corner and a bucket full of different types of paints and art... things... Magnus wasn't very well versed in any of it.

She pulled the chair out from her desk and let him sit, sitting on top of the desk herself. They stared.

"Taako said-" she started, at the same time he said,

"Lup-"

She grinned at him sheepishly. It made Magnus feel a lot better to know she had gotten advice, too. She gestured at him, letting him go first.

"I went to Lup," he began, "because I didn't know exactly how to- to fix this, but she just said to talk to you, and let it come out, so, uh. I'm sorry, I guess. No, I mean- I am sorry, I just- I'm not good at thinking through things and you got hurt because of it. You died because I rushed into something and I should have thought about that. I should have kept you in mind, but when I saw all those creatures getting hurt, and thought about what must have happened to Barry, I- couldn't help myself. I'm sorry you died because of it. Because- of because of me."

Lucretia was silent for a few moments, hands resting in her lap. He had been avoiding her eye during his speech, but when he was done, he looked up at her.

"I'm not angry because I died," she said. "I'm angry because you broke your promise."

"I- what?"

"I don't care that I died!" Lucretia said loudly, slamming her hand on the desk. "It fucking- yes, yeah, it hurt, but it hurt that you promised me you wouldn't rush in, and then you did! If you're going to be rash, you need to tell me outright- that's what got us killed, Magnus! That you didn't trust me enough to tell me what you were thinking!"

"I trust you!" Magnus said, but Lucretia shook her head. She was looking a little teary.

"Did you promise with the intention of actually keeping your word?" she asked, and when Magnus couldn't respond (because, no, he hadn't been planning to be "rash" about it), she turned away from him and said, "that's what I thought."

"They were hurting the animals and people they had there," Magnus said, finally, voice wet and hurt. "I couldn't just... let them do that. I couldn't, Lucretia."

"I know," she said, taking a deep breath. "I know. I just- just as appalled you was, trust me. We could have gotten out alive, though, I think. If you had taken the time to think about what to do with me. Like Lup and Taako did, when they broke everyone out after we died."

Something uncomfortable was rooted in Magnus's chest and it was that she was right- she was a hundred percent right. He had the tendency to act instead of think and had been like that before the Starblaster mission. It was fitting for a twenty-two-year-old, fresh into the real world, but- fuck. He wasn't twenty-two, anymore, not really.

He saw the pain in Lucretia's eyes and realized she wasn't twenty anymore, either. Not like they were when they started.

"You're right," Magnus said, nodding. "I broke my promise, willingly, and it was stupid of me. I can't promise things like that right off the back because I'm realizing I still have a lot of growing left to do. It's- weird, I think. Being so young with so much knowledge. I don't feel like I'm living up to the age I actually am."

Lucretia nodded, slowly, and looked into his eyes. He could see the tears in them.

"I shouldn't have made you promise something so drastic for you," Lucretia said.

"Maybe not," Magnus shrugged. "But there is something I can say- I can promise, I mean. Look, pinky swear, so you know I'm not lying."

He held out his pinky. Lucretia took it apprehensively in her own, a small smile sneaking back onto her face.

"I promise I'm gonna try to grow up," he swore and Lucretia snorted. "Seriously- maybe not like, uh, like I'm still gonna be childish as fuck, don't doubt that, but- I'm gonna try to think things through more. Think of the consequences to my actions."

He shook their pinky's, a bit violently. Lucretia took her hand back, looking at him appraisingly.

"I'll hold you to that," she said.

"Please do," Magnus said.

[cuculine-nelipot]

Happy Birthday, Gascon

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: Birthday

Relationship: Gascon Brossard/Reynard Odo, Meve & Reynard Odo, Meve/Reynard Odo (background)

Rating: Teen

Content Warning: Gascon’s Tragic Backstory, Thronebreaker spoilers

Summary: Nearly a year after Gascon's mysterious disappearance, he returns to explain himself to, and hopefully make amends with, the man he left behind. (ao3)

Even by the stars’ cold light, he could tell that the gardens were far more beautiful than they were when he last saw them. Wilder, and more colourful, vibrant, but with an undeniable air of dignity. It suited her well, Gascon thought. Nothing else would do for the warrior Queen.

It was the height of summer, and the sultry air hummed with cricket choruses and cicada songs. His clothes were stifling. On another night, he might have gone to the pond nearby, and passed the dark hours sleeping near the cool water. But there was someone he wanted to see, if only he could summon the courage to find him.

He still hadn’t found any when Reynard found him instead, sitting down, leaving much fewer inches between them than Gascon anticipated, or expected he deserved. They sat on the marble bench, eyes fixed on the marble fountain — a matching set, a present from Meve to Reginald after some battle or other, he couldn’t remember which. Stags locked in battle, it was supposed to be, hooves flying, antlers clashing, the sides of their faces grazed. An unnatural posture. Gascon always thought they looked like they were kissing.

“You have shite security, Reynard. I expected better from you.”

“You were seen, Gascon. The guards were instructed to come find me when they saw a man in a funny hat skulking in like an admonished fox.”

“Am I admonished, then?”

“No, not by me. Nor by Meve, if that’s what troubles you.” If Reynard had to guess by the state of him, the only person doing any admonishing was Gascon himself.

“What makes you say I’m troubled?”

There was his unusually slight frame, his hunched posture, his dishevelled attire, the nervous jiggling of his leg, and, well- “You could have used the front door.”  

Gascon paused, stilled as he considered, then his head cocked to the side, and an amused smile spread across his face as he said, “Hadn’t even occurred to me.”

Neither man said anything for a long moment. Reynard only watched, wishing the other man would turn to look at him. Gascon only wrung his hands between his knees, eyes fixed on the entwined, marble stags, one white veined grey, like the fountain’s basin and the bench, the other black veined white.

Reynard had promised that when he saw Gascon again — because the man would come back, of that he’d been certain — Reynard promised himself that he would remain the pinnacle of composure, that he would let Gascon explain, and he would listen. But now, with the man himself so close, seeing him after so long — much longer than Reynard had anticipated, he couldn’t stop from feeling wounded.

“Did you sneak out the back door when you left too?” His voice shook as he spoke, but whether it was from anger or hurt he could not say.

“Reynard-”

“Why did you leave? I thought- especially after- it seemed like-”

“It was only one night, Reynard,” Gascon reminded him, sounding more tired than the older man had ever heard him.

Reynard’s body jerked away, as if slapped. The hurt evident in his voice as he spoke. “It was hardly the only night that mattered.”  

There had been so many nights, as many pints of ale and campfires as there were stars in the skies they slept under, and after, there were the lavish meals in candlelit banquet halls, and strolls through moonlit gardens when it all got too claustrophobic,  and so much laughter through it all. All from Gascon at first, far too pleased whenever he earned  himself  a scowl or a blush from the older man, but then one day, Reynard found he’d started laughing too. Then came the lingering glances, the brushing of hands on arms, on thighs, grazing shoulders and backs, growing firmer, bolder with each pass.

There was the way Gascon smiled at him — gradually less smug as a quality akin to sunlight began to blossom, a light that warmed Reynard’s heart and fluttered in his belly.  Then at last, on one of the older man’s increasingly frequent visits to Gascon’s manor, in a moment of uncommon bravery, Reynard adorned the role of romantic hero, and kissed him. He grabbed Gascon by the face and brought their lips together and in the ensuing fit of ecstasy he almost forgot to panic. Fortunately, the younger man was much better versed in such matters, and so their dance moved at last to Gascon’s bedroom. He was gone by the time Reynard woke up.

“Should have known you’d been the sentimental type,” Gascon half sighed, half groaned.

“Why are you here, Gascon?” Reynard asked — demanded, a steely edge in his voice that at one time amused Gascon greatly, but now cut deeper than any blade ever could.

“I need to tell you something.” Gripping the edge of his seat tightly, he rocked forward as if he were about to be sick, his face suddenly taking on a concerning pallor. If the younger man were being at all honest with himself, he would have confessed a desire to be in bed, perhaps with his face pressed against Reynard’s chest, the older man’s fingers in his hair like they laid that night, warm and glowing, feeling like so much lay before them. Perhaps then it would have been easier to speak.

Perhaps Reynard sensed something of the sort, for his fingers itched to take off Gascon’s stupid hat, and card through his surely sweat damp hair. But he stayed his hand, too wary of being stung again, and waited.

“I- it’s my birthday tomorrow.” Of all the things Gascon could have said, Reynard would never have thought to expect that.

“Okay-?” he prompted when Gascon seemed to have lost courage again.

“I’m not turning eighteen,” the younger man confessed, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Aren’t you?” Reynard asked dryly.

“You knew?”

“I had an inkling.” He’d had a well of inklings. Reynard hadn’t once believed that the bandit was a mere boy of seventeen, childlike though he was. But Gascon had his secrets, and Reynard didn’t want to pry. “How old will you be then?” he prompted Gascon again, when he fell into another uncharacteristic silence, leaving Reynard with the tiresome task of being uncharacteristically vocal. He’d do it though, if that’s what Gascon needed from him then, he’d do it a thousand times over.

Gascon’s eyes were nervous now, fraught, and far away where they bored into the ground. “Twenty-eight.” His voice even quieter than it was before. He swallowed dryly.

“Not a bad age. Why hide it?”

“Because! Because I- I wasn’t a child when- when they-”

“When your family was killed?” Reynard finished softly. Any other night, had they been talking about anything else, Reynard had no doubt that Gascon would have found  his tone unforgivably patronising, but now he just nodded slowly, looking at the older man with wide eyes, looking every bit the child he claimed he hadn’t been.

They never talked about it. Reynard first began to suspect just who Gascon was that night he asked to take his leave of them, and Meve followed, his strange demeanour causing her concern. He’d been so quiet when they returned, and Meve so evasive. Reynard knew the area well, knew they were near the Brossard estate. When Meve ordered the family graveyard repaired, the pieces slid into place all too easily; when she returned the land to Gascon’s care outright, there was simply no denying it. But still Gascon never spoke of his family, and Reynard never pried, though now he was beginning to think he should have.

“I should have been there,” Gascon whispered. With his eyes fixed downward at nothing again, it was hard to say if he spoke to Reynard, himself, or the earth below their feet.

“Then you’d be dead.” Reynard answered bluntly.

Suddenly outraged, Gascon whirled around, standing in front of the other man, his arms spread wide as he spoke. “Do you know why I wasn’t there? They’d sent me away. To fucking Cintra. With a friend of my father’s, hoping he’d be able to entice me into being the heir they needed.”

“Gascon-”

“They loved me so much.” His voice, thick with emotion, dropped again, and even in the low light, Reynard could see glistening tears swelling at his eyes. “They did everything for me, gave me everything, they loved me so much-”

“So they would have been relieved  you weren’t there. They would have been happy that you lived.”

“I  failed them.”

“You’d be dead now, if you’d been there. You would have died.”

“So? I was old enough. I should have died for my family.”

“Dying for, and dying with, are not the same, Gascon. And you were only a child.”

“I was a man!”

“You were hardly a man when I met you,” Reynard laughed in spite of himself.

Gascon glared at him reproachfully, pouting in a way that more than proved his point, and dropped to sit on the fountain’s edge, head in his hands. Reynard pushed away from the bench, walking over slowly, his boots crunching deliberately on the gavel. When he stopped in front of the other man, he crouched down, his face level with Gascon’s bowed head. Carefully, he pried those remorseful hands away, leaving Gascon no choice but to look at him.

“So say you died for your family, hm? And then what? Where would that have left us?”

“You would have been fine,” Gascon insisted weekly in answer to Reynard’s unvoiced question.

“Fine, maybe, but fine isn’t living, is it? You taught me that.”

“Reynard-” Gascon moaned. Before he had a chance to hide away again, Reynard was on his feet, cradling his head to his stomach, holding him steady as sniffed wetly, hands fisted in the sides of Reynard's tunic.

“Is that why you left?” he whispered. “The guilt of being there became too much?”

Gascon shook his head, and gasped, “No. Well, yes, but not like that.” As anticipated, finding the words was easier now that he had Reynard against him, touching him, but it still took a moment, quietly nuzzling into Reynard’s stomach, for him to find his voice. “I went back because I thought that I could finally be the man my parents would have been proud of, but after that night-”

Reynard’s stomach turned cold at those words, at that loaded silence. Unconsciously, his grip on Gascon’s hair tightened, but if the other man noticed, he didn’t show it.  In all the months of his absence, it never occurred to Reynard that Gascon might be ashamed of him.

“I just- I thought you deserved to know the truth, to know the man I am, but I- I couldn’t tell you. I only meant to be away a few days, but the longer I was gone, the worse I felt about leaving and I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

Loosening his grip as the cold fled from his body, Reynard instead took Gascon’s face in his hands and pulled him up, looking him in the eye unyieldingly, almost sternly as spoke. “I know the kind of man you are, Gascon,” he said firmly. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Relief lightened Gascon’s chest as something warmer bloomed where the weight of his guilt had been, spilling over to flood his skin, his eyes watering again. “Fuck- Reynard-”

“May I kiss you now?” Reynard cut in. They weren’t going to unpack everything Gascon was feeling in its entirety in one night, let alone resolve all of it, but certainly they’d done enough to earn a kiss, and Reynard had been left waiting for so long.

Quite agreeing that they’d lost enough time, Gascon simply grabbed Reynard by the waist and pulled their bodies flush, so that nearly every inch of them from their chests to their feet were touching. Tilting his head so his silly hat wouldn’t get in the way, he brought their lips together with barely tempered desperation, eager to treat the man in his arms right. Reynard’s lips were thin and soft, naturally turned down in a dour expression that Gascon teased him for relentlessly. All it had taken was one night with those lips on him for Gascon to spend the better part of a year missing them dearly.  

Reynard had promised himself that when they at last kissed again — because this moment had been inevitable, he was certain of it — he would not get carried away; it would be slow, and tender, and almost chaste. And it was, for a while. He pressed softly against Gascon’s wind-chapped lips, his tongue poking out just enough to lick a little, and, thankfully, Gascon was content to follow his lead this time, grateful for his attention. But before Reynard knew it, his hands slipped to cradle the back of Gascon’s head, thumbs pressed into  the hinges of his jaw as he tilted the younger man back, nipping, then biting on his lower lip, seeking to deepen the kiss. And Gascon was parting his reddened lips, and licking inside his mouth to invite the same. Happily, Reynard obliged, moaning into Gascon’s mouth with all the airs of a sailor’s wife at last seeing her husband returned to shore.

“God’s I missed you,” Gascon breathed when he was at last allowed to come up for air, and it was the easiest breath he’d taken since they last saw each other.

As much as Gascon would have liked to stay in the garden, in that night, lost in Reynard’s kiss forever, Reynard did eventually convince him of the delights and virtues of a good bed. Late as it was, neither could in good conscious call for a bath, so they made do with a bucket of well water and a couple of washcloths, Reynard helping scrub Gascon to get him in bed all the faster. He’d waited far too long to sleep in Gascon’s arms again, and been denied the joy of waking up in them even longer.

Face to face, Gascon snoring lightly into his neck, his arm around his waist, holding him tightly, it should have been easy to fall asleep. Perhaps it would have been, if Reynard had not been quite so eager to watch him, feel him, make sure that he was really there after so many months of missing him, and not some vision conjured by the heat of a midsummer’s night.

His worries were quickly dispelled when Meve snuck into his room, sliding the false wall shut behind her, as he usually did when he made the journey in reverse.  

“I hear you got your puppy back.” She said quietly, padding  around  to sit on the farther side of the bed, so that she could see Reynard’s face as they spoke.

It had been well over a year since their relationship transformed into something more… intimate, and yet still Reynard fought the urge to at the very least sit up in deference to her presence. However, being shirtless, he supposed that would be rather more indecorous, and besides, he didn’t want to risk stirring the man sound asleep in his arms. He was so tired.

“You see him too, then?” He asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.

“I do. I take it  he explained himself?”

“He did.”

“To your satisfaction?”

“To my satisfaction, yes.” He sounded almost reproachful. “You needn’t worry, Meve.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She only watched them for a moment, taking in the sight of what she knew her lover had so longed for. They were pretty together, she had to give them that, and there was something delightful in the very idea of Reynard being softer on the bandit than she was. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke Gascon’s dark hair, and the back of Reynard’s hand where he held the younger man’s head.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.” Reynard said softly, absently, but with a sense of wonder in his voice, like he found it truly marvellous that Gascon’s birthday was tomorrow.

“Oh? How old will he be?”

“Twenty-eight.”

She mulled that over silently, quickly puzzling out why the young man had lied in the first place,  letting the weight of Reynard’s knowing — of Gascon’s telling him the truth, sink in. So, it appeared, the puppy was finally ready to live a little more honestly. “I should have a special breakfast brought up to you then.”

“And you’ll eat with us?” Reynard inquired hopefully.

“If you wish it.”

He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. It was a game she’d been playing, trying to get him to express his wishes to her. “I’d be grateful if you did.”

“Well, how could I deny you now?” Neither spoke for a moment, both their eyes cast tenderly upon the man sleeping between them. Then she laughed, snorted. “‘Seventeen’ my arse.”

In spite of himself, Reynard laughed too.

Meve stayed long enough for him to fall asleep, his arms still wrapped tightly around Gascon, Gascon’s hair kissing his lips in a way she knew the older man found inexpressibly gratifying.  She kissed one man on the temple, and then the other, and existed once more through the concealed sliding door. She never spent the night, not since she and Reynard first fell into bed together, the day the paperwork had been signed on their victory. True, there was no small amount of relief that the deep, abiding affection they held for each other had finally spilled over into something outwardly passionate, and with any luck it would continue to do so for years to come, but Meve also knew they couldn’t work together in a way that suited them both.

First, she had long felt that Reynard would make someone the perfect husband one day, told him as much for years, but she’d already been married, and had no inclination to being so again, even to a man like Reynard. Second, though she would never tell him this, Meve suspected that her chief advisor would never be able to fully remove her from the pedestal he’d set her upon for so many years. So she kissed one many on the temple, and the other, and slipped back through the sliding door to her own room, and into her own bed, assured in the knowledge that they — the two men who were perhaps her best friends — would wake up in each other’s arms feeling as close to complete as humanly possible, and alone in her room, so would she.

Sure enough, when a shard of the early morning sun’s golden light alighted on Reynard’s face, he could feel the warmth of Gascon’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Gascon’s hand pressed against his chest, Gascon’s body snug against his back, his nose brushing the dip behind Reynard’s ear, his breaths skating across Reynard’s skin. In short, they were exactly as they had been the first time they’d fallen asleep together, and Reynard was finally waking up in the glow of that glorious night. Sleepily, smiling, he placed his hand over Gascon’s, twined their fingers together, and brought it up to his face. Pressing a lingering kiss into Gascon’s palm, he mumbled, “Happy birthday, Gascon.”

[elizabethemerald]

AO3

Azula glanced up at the sound of the door to her room opening. She tried to hide the happiness on her face when she saw Katara enter. She wasn’t entirely certain she was successful. 

“Azula!” Katara said, cheerfully. “I’m glad to see you out of that muzzle today.”

“Hello Katara.” Azula leaned her head to the side, allowing her hair to partially cover her face before she straightened again with a smirk. Her smirk felt somewhat more like a genuine smile than it had in the past. “I’ve been on my best behaviour. I don’t want to give the doctors any reason to cancel our little visits.”

“Does seeing me mean that much to you?” Katara asked with a wide smile. Azula couldn’t form any words in response to that so simply nodded. She was surprised when Katara stepped behind her. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“What?”

“A walk. This hospital has a beautiful pond and I thought we could go sit by it, get some fresh air.”

“That sounds lovely.”

Katara’s visits often left Azula feeling knocked onto her back foot. The water bender girl had a kindness to her that Azula would have dismissed as weakness for most of her life. On top of that she had a fire. More than any fire bender other than herself. Each visit left her feeling like she had no idea what had happened or why. 

Azula tried to think about this as Katara unlocked the wheels of her chair then started gently pushing her from her room. The whole time Katara kept up a steady stream of conversation. She talked about the rebuilding they were doing in the Earth Kingdom, the attempts to resettle the Fire Nation’s massive standing army now that the war was over, and even the day to day gossip of the other members of team Avatar. 

They eventually found their way to an open courtyard in the center of the hospital grounds. Azula was surprised, the doctors had never taken her here before. They would rarely take her on short walks through the hallways, but few of the doctors had the courage to do it anymore. The courtyard had soft grass, neatly lined walkways and trees providing dappled shade. In the center of the courtyard was a small pond with a fountain and reeds growing on the shores. 

Katara put the breaks back on the wheel chair then moved to sit in front of Azula, she slipped her shoes off and dipped her feet into the water, her back to her. Azula couldn’t help but stare at her back, constantly puzzled by the enigma. 

“May I ask you a question, Katara?” Azula asked, when Katara paused. 

“Of course Azula.” She turned as she said it to give Azula her full attention. 

“Why do you come to visit me?”

Katara seemed surprised by the question. “I already told you on my first visit, I think there’s a lot I can learn from you.”

“Hmm.” 

“Do you think I’m lying?”

“No. I just don’t think that’s all of it.” Azula responded. She looked past Katara at the slowly moving waters of the pond. Katara turned back to look at the water again. 

“When I first came here, I’ll admit I was angry.” Katara said quietly. She scooted backwards on the grass until she was leaning against the side of Azula’s wheel chair. “I don’t know what exactly I thought I was going to do when I got here, but the learning from you was the reason I gave to Zuko when he asked. But when I got here and I saw you, I couldn’t hold onto that anger anymore.”

“Because you pity me.”

“Pity isn’t a weakness Azula.” Katara said, forcefully. “And it wasn’t pity I felt. It was fear.”

“Fear? Were you afraid of me?” Azula asked incredulously. 

“No.”

For a long moment there was silence between them. She could tell that Katara was thinking and left her to it. The fresh air of the garden and the soft sounds of the fountain filled her senses while she waited. Finally Katara sighed and started talking again. 

“While we were hiding in the Fire Nation I found an old water bender. She was from the Southern Water Tribe just like I was. She had grown up with my Gran-gran. She offered to teach me some water bending tricks.”

Azula leaned as far forward as her bonds would allow, as soft keening sound coming out her as she strained. She could hear a forlorn melancholy in Katara’s voice that she hadn’t heard before. 

“She taught me how to take the water from the air. Or even the grass and plants.” Katara demonstrated as she spoke, creating a floating orb of water in her hand as small patch of the grass withered and died. She idly tossed the water into the pond. “She also taught me new ways to hurt people.” 

“She had been captured in a Fire Nation raid, held prisoner for years.” Katara put her head in her hands as she kept talking. “The imprisonment she described was torture. Her pain and anger twisted her into someone willing to kill anyone who got in her way.”

Azula couldn’t pretend like that description wasn’t familiar to her. She had hurt more people than she could recall. Anyone who had tried to stop her mad climb for power had been blasted aside with so much lightning and flame. She was surprised when Katara turned, rising to her knees to look her in the eye, her hand on her arm. 

“When I first saw you with that muzzle on your face… I was filled with fear. If the war had ended differently, if we had been captured, that would have been my fate. Aang would have gotten even worse, if he wasn’t killed outright. Toph too. Even my brother, he would have been imprisoned on the Boiling Rock like Suki.”

She was silent for a moment, looking into Azula’s eyes. Then her grip on her arm tightened. “If our positions were reversed would you have visited me in whatever cell they made to hold me?”

Azula’s mouth worked silently before she croaked out a quiet, “No.”

There was a time where she would have confidently answered no. Her tone would have been either condescending or dismissive. Water tribe peasants were so far below her notice during the end of the war. Now the idea that she wouldn’t even care about Katara being imprisoned tore at her heart. 

“If our situations reversed right in this moment, would you visit me?” Katara eyes seemed desperate. 

“Yes.” Azula’s voice broke with her own desperation to make Katara understand that she would, she would visit as often as possible. Even the thought of Katara being forced to wear the horrific muzzle had her panting blue flames in anger and dread. 

“I can’t just leave you here, for your only visitor to be Zuko when he has the time. You deserve the same love and care the rest of us do. And I will never be able to get the image out of my head of me in your place. After that first time, I knew I would keep visiting, as long as you would let me.”

Katara settled back on her heels, tears in her eyes. Azula could feel the burning of unshed tears in her own eyes. Katara glanced up at the sky through the leaves and grimaced. Azula guessed their time together was drawing to a close soon. Katara stood and dusted grass off her dress before moving to take Azula back to her room. 

It was almost silent between the two of them, each buried deep with their own thoughts. They were almost back to Azula’s room when she heard Katara take a shaky breath behind her. 

“Did you know your birthday is coming up in a few weeks?” She asked, her voice still a little husky with her emotions. 

Azula sat up in her chair. She hadn’t known. She had lost almost all track of time while in the hospital, not that she had really cared much about the day for the past few years. 

“I was thinking,” Katara was saying. “That maybe I could come by with Zuko for a little party for you, would you like that?”

Azula nodded. She didn’t have any words left for the day and even focusing on the conversation was becoming a struggle. 

“Would you like me to invite the rest of the Gang?”

A shaken head. “Just me and Zuko?” A nod. “Ok.” 

Katara knelt down in front of Azula and gently wiped the tears she hadn’t noticed had fallen from her eyes. Azula wanted to hate herself for crying in front of her enemy. She wanted to hate herself even more for the way she leaned into the soft caress. 

“I’ll be back for your birthday, ok?” A nod. “Bye Azula.”

And Katara was gone.

[rohanrider3]

Brace Yourselves, I have THOUGHTS on this guy

Okay so I just watched Wizards (Tales of Arcadia) and I, along with many other folks, adore one (1) wizard in particular--Hisirdoux Casperan, better known as Douxie. I’m sure you’ve seen the art, the posts, and, well, the internet lately.

BUT HERE’S THE THING. One of the (many) reasons I love this guy. He’s not what one typically gets in a main character, AND he’s very different than other protagonists we’ve met in Arcadia. 

TLDR: Protective, kind-as-summer, ultimate “good older brother vibes” wizard who simultaneously 1) doesn’t think much of himself, 2) tries his hardest, and 3) is actually SUPER FREAKING POWERFUL is unique and I love him for all those reasons and more!! (Details (and spoilers) below the cut)

1: He’s young, yes, but he’s extremely experienced. He looks 19, but is 919. As the first episode shows, he’s been doing his best to live a good life and master magic for NINE CENTURIES. All the while looking like a kid! Douxie lived through the fall of Camelot, has seen technology blossom and evolve, AND has seen countless people come and go, all the while completely on his own except for Archie.

2: He’s extremely humble. He’s apparently been working odd jobs FOR ALMOST A MILENNIUM--so he can work from the shadows to protect people from terrors they don’t even know about--and works hard AT ALL OF IT. Menial jobs AND demon-fighting. First episode, he clearly WANTS to use magic to clean up the cafe (and as a former customer service worker I would have sold my wisdom teeth for magic, LET ALONE magic clean-up help!) but he refrains from doing so, because he really took Merlin’s advice to heart.

(Side note: IMO, Merlin’s an ASS. But the advice he gives in the beginning of “Wizards”--along the lines of “Relying on magic alone isn’t enough, first you have to master how to live well and THEN you can master magic, hard work is extremely important and not to be skipped”--is good. AND DOUXIE STICKS WITH IT FOR OVER 900 YEARS. OF HIS OWN VOLITION. Merlin’s in a tomb, he hasn’t been glaring over Douxie’s shoulder all this time!) Which brings me to-

3) Douxie, although a hard worker, sincerely good guy, and all around badass wizard, doubts himself a LOT (thanks Merlin’s endless snarking and yelling.) BUT, instead of always fighting/planning to get Merlin to approve of him, Douxie instead focuses on doing the right thing. But it isn’t easy and Merlin’s dismissal of him/his ideas/Merlin’s constant disparaging put-downs hurts him. But he doesn’t let it stop him.

4) Douxie CARES. A LOT. He’s patient, kind, eager to help, works hard, and has protected humanity from horrors it didn’t even know about for CENTURIES. While he was still an apprentice, with no master, and no other magic users (that we’ve really seen) that could teach him more about his own magic or how to use it. The hedge wizards are cool, but we don’t get to see much of them and it looks like they’re more of a side society in Arcadia than something Douxie’s strictly a part of.

5) Douxie protects whoever he can whenever he can. To him, all life is precious, and he gives off major “is anyone else protecting this person or trying to make things better okay cool cool cool, I’m gonna try to do that as much as I can for as many as I can right now!” attitude. Which gives off major older sibling vibes to me. 

(To emphasize, he cares about EVERYONE. He’s distraught at the thought of Arthur’s death, HE’S the one who uses his magic to remind--not enchant, REMIND--Arthur and Morgana of their old love of the forest and of Gwen (apparently the glue that held their trio together) and how, each in their own way, they miss her and still love each other. HE’S the one who’s constantly checking the time continuum, and keeps trying to tell Merlin that it doesn’t have to be Arthur vs. Morgana. But Merlin outright pushes him aside/ignores him, and events take their course. Interesting note: Right during the big fight scene in the past with Arthur vs. Morgana, just before Arthur cuts off Morgana’s hand with Excaliber and she falls to her death, you’ll notice the time continuum is blue. Which means it’s fine. The future is good. Douxie could go back to his future no problem. BUT WHEN HE SEES MORGANA’S DEAD FORM as part of the repaired timeline, HE SHOUTS AND RUNS TOWARD THEM TO TRY AND STOP IT. Morgana being DEAD didn’t mess up the timeline. Excaliber being broken did. But Douxie was still trying to save Morgana AND Arthur, and only the blast of magic from their fight knocked him back. And he still grieves her death as one of the parts of his failure, even while Merlin pushes him aside and focuses on Arthur and Excaliber in the aftermath of the battle.

6) Does anyone else think Douxie has a major guilt complex/super messed up self esteem? Because Douxie tearfully shouting “I’m so sorry! This is all my fault!” to Merlin, AS DOUXIE’S OWN LIFE IS IN DANGER AFTER HE TRIED TO SAVE HIS FRIENDS and keep the Arcane Order from destroying the world...that hit hard. His life is on the line and (most likely) his last words are a plea for forgiveness to the Master that routinely dismissed him as an incompetent idiot and was more than happy to leave teenagers (!TEENAGERS!) who’d fought and risked everything to protect the world to die horribly at the hands of his enemies. Douxie--caring, kind-hearted, I-get-my-ass-rountinely-handed-to-me-but-always-get-up-again DOUXIE was the one who ran back to get Jim and Claire. Not Merlin. Merlin was *this close* to leaving to protect Nari for the greater good, and only reconsidered because Douxie had thrown himself into the fray (and despite his best efforts got thrown hard into a rock wall by The Green Knight. And then volleyball spiked into the (equally hard rock) floor and crushed by MindControlledTrollJim.

7) Douxie DOES NOT GIVE UP. Merlin writes Jim’s injuries off as hopeless and him as a lost cause, but Douxie relentlessly tries to figure out ways to fix things. Arthur and Morgana’s relationship, Jim’s injury/worsening curse, all the scenarios where they (it looks like) have to choose between saving their friends AND the world. He doesn’t just shrug and write off losses the way Merlin does. Douxie keeps throwing himself at problems and putting himself at risk to solve them.

8) He’s honest. (Certain Lad of Fortune bowl games aside ;) ) Merlin only told Jim the problem with the wound and left it at that. Douxie makes sure that Claire knows the reality of the situation and promises he’ll find a way to fix it. He knows their situation isn’t ideal, but he refuses to just shrug and leave things as they are. He’s more than willing to throw himself wholeheartedly into finding a way to fix things and refuses to let defeat stop him. Which leads me to, finally--

9) Douxie willingly, without flinching or making a big deal about it, walks into the jaws of death for his friends and the world. For Pete’s sake, he does it with a SMILE. He KNOWS getting his friends back is a long shot. He KNOWS the Arcane Order cannot get Nari AND the Seals, or else the world is doomed--AND he could easily have chosen to go on the run, with the Seals, for the rest of his life. His friends would have died (or worse), Nari would have been trapped with the Order for the rest of time, but the world (and Douxie) would have been safe. Why? The Order doesn’t know he has the seals. Merlin said they could be FOUND if his staff was destroyed, he didn’t say they were STORED there. (And yeah, I wanted Douxie to trick the Order with fake Seals too, but after some thought I’d argue that they’re ancient and powerful enough where they probably wouldn’t have been fooled by or chased after a fake.) Also, going on the run with inanimate objects your hunters don’t know you have and having the kind of magic Douxie does--he could have had a niiiiiice life. Maybe a little mobile, but arguably MUCH easier than constantly making sure a small forest spirit doesn’t get snatched up by her angry brethren. In any case--

Douxie’s plan included--and even hinged on--his willingness to die buying his friends and Nari time to escape. He BUILT IT INTO HIS PLAN. And that bravery, courage, and matter of fact heroism--along with that defiant smirk he gives the Order when they threaten to kill him--is why I love this guy so much. 

[janeykath318]

BuckyNat Fantasy AU

For @green-angst-and-ham

“How much farther?” 

“Not much,” answered Lady Natasha softly. “Quietly now, Sir Steven. We cannot afford to alert the sentries just yet.”

Steven nodded and followed her silently, leather boots making very little sound as the pair crept toward the lair of the evil Hydra sorcerers, who were finally going to meet their doom today. 

The land had suffered greatly from their cruelty and inhumane magic and thousands had died at their hands or killed by the fire of their fierce black dragon, who periodically emerged from the Serpent Mountain to wreak havoc.

Ostensibly, Natasha and Steven were here to slay the dragon, but their true mission was rather different, for the Hydra dragon was no natural dragon, he was a man under a powerful spell, captured years ago in battle and now forced to do their bidding. 

Steven had been Sir James’s close companion and had grieved his friend’s supposed death for years before he had met Natasha and she had told him of her own captivity under Hydra and that she had known and loved James before they’d turned him into their puppet. 

Natasha had spent long years searching for answers in dusty magical tomes and seeking out the most renowned Wizards in the land in hope of learning how to break the spell that held James captive. 

Finally, she had succeeded in finding it and together with Sir Steven, was nearing the end of her quest. Her heart pounded as they drew closer to the entrance to the cave where the dragon was chained. Several stern looking guards were posted outside, but they would soon pose no threat. 

Natasha looked at Steven. 

“It is time,” she told him. “Remember, it is crucial that you not interrupt me when I start the ritual, no matter how perilous things become, do you understand?” 

Steven nodded somberly. The risk they were taking was very high and there was a good chance neither would survive, but it was one they were both very willing to take. 

“I understand.” 

“Then, let the rescue commence,” Natasha said, giving him a confident smile. 

Stepping in front of the cave mouth, she waved her hands and cast a spell that put all the guards into an enchanted sleep. Steve bound them and dragged them away where they wouldn’t be any bother. Step one completed, they entered the cave and Natasha led the way through its winding, twisting passages until they reached the largest chamber where the shape of a huge beast could be seen, chained to the wall and deep in slumber. 

The dragon was huge and fearsome looking, with sleek black wings and scales and deadly claws and a large horned head with flared nostrils that gave out puffs of smoke as he slept. As they grew closer, Natasha could see he looked rather thin and gaunt and the iron chain was digging into his neck cruelly. His left front leg appeared to be made entirely of silver. 

She saw Steve’s mouth tighten in anger at the sight and her own heart ached thinking about the mistreatment he’d suffered from those brute sorcerers. Normally, he’d be surrounded by his handlers, but they were currently being engaged in battle by The wizards and knights of the Golden Shield. 

Taking a small bottle out of her pouch, Natasha carefully opened it and let the contents waft around the room as she began speaking the words of the spell that would break James’s enchantment. 

The dragon began to stir and large red eyes glared at them suspiciously as he sat up on his haunches. Steve moved to stand closer to Natasha, ready to throw up his magical shield of protection, should The Dragon breathe fire at them. Natasha calmly continued chanting, words flowing effortlessly from her lips. It had taken her months to memorize it all and it would likely take at least ten minutes to cast. 

What she had not told Steven was that the spell was so powerful, it could very well drain her life force and kill her by the time she finished. Stephen Strange had almost refused to even give her the formula, so concerned was he for her safety. 

What did her safety matter while the man she loved continued to suffer so? 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept speaking. 

The dragon was growling at them now, eyes blazing and mouth opening. Steve threw up the protective shield just in time as a blast of fire burst toward them. Natasha held her ground, sweat trickling down her neck as she recited the spell. 

The dragon continued to blast fire at them and grasp with his claws, but due to his chains, he couldn’t get around Steven’s shield and growled angrily before giving up and sitting back down.

Feeling herself weakening every minute, Natasha steeled herself to finish her mission, Steve standing silently beside her. 

As she uttered the final words, she pulled out a blue powder and threw it into the astonished dragon’s face. 

A piercingly bright light appeared and Natasha sank to her knees, feeling as though she’d been kicked in the chest. As she tried to get her breath back, she heard Steven gasp and looked up to see the light dissipate and the dragon gone, leaving the huddled body of a man where he’d been. 

Steve reached him first, but only because Natasha could only crawl in her weakened state. He broke the chains off of James and began looking his unconscious friend over worriedly. Natasha’s eyes filled with tears as she recognized James’s human face, bruised and battered, dark brown hair falling past his chin. The rest of his currently bare body was littered with various scars and marks from tortures she didn’t want to even begin to imagine. 

“Oh, James,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and muttering a quick healing spell, forgetful of her lessened powers.  

The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Steve’s panicked face.

She woke up in James’s arms, with his big beautiful blue eyes looking down at her with love and worry in them. 

“Natasha,” he murmured. “You saved me. How…..”  

She rested her hand on his face and enjoyed its warmth, relief and joy coursing through her. She had her James back!

“With a lot of help and practice,” she told him. “It was a complicated spell to master.”

“Without doubt,” he agreed, placing his right hand over hers. “You nearly killed yourself for me. Good thing Steve here had some healing potions.” 

He gestured towards Steve, who was standing guard some yards away to give them space.

“It was worth it, James,” she said tenderly. “I love you and I never stopped.” 

James’s expression twisted as he fought back tears. 

“Natasha, my love, I longed for you for so long. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” 

His voice broke and he buried his face in her hair, breathing hard. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” She told him. “Those Hydra dogs made it very difficult to undo their enchantments, curse them to the black pits of Hell.” 

Her vehement tone had him smiling again and he helped her sit up.

“Do you feel able to walk?” He asked. “We should probably make ourselves scarce before any of them come back.”

The healing potion seemed to have been very effective, because Natasha found she could indeed stand and walk, if a little shakily.

“Yes, but James,” she asked, noticing his silver left arm, “what happened to your arm?”

He gave a grimace and pulled on a tunic Steve had given him. In one of his more optimistic moments, Steve had decided that human Bucky would likely need clothing once he had been transformed and had packed a whole set.

“Happened during the early days as a dragon before the enchantment had been perfected. I transformed back into a human while flying and nearly died in the fall, which cost me my arm. For a long time, I wished I HAD died.”

Natasha’s heart ached for him again and she saw Steve visibly wince at his friend’s words. Leaning up on tiptoes, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. James seemed surprised, but definitely returned the kiss eagerly. 

“There,” she said, after they’d managed to pull apart. “Feel a little better now?”

James outright grinned at her teasing tone and she basked in the glow of it, not having seen of of his becoming smiles in way too long. 

“With this kind of treatment, I’ll be good as new in no time,” he declared, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. There’s no telling how long their flirting would have gone on had Steve not given a polite cough.

“Loathe as I am to interrupt this happy reunion, we really do need to be going, friends,” he reminded them, though his own eyes were sparking with delight. “It would be best if we put on our Cloaks of Concealment.”

James and Natasha took his advice, and soon three grey-clad individuals were stealthily exiting the caves. No one spoke until they had managed to leave the Serpent Mountain far behind and then James heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly to both of them. 

Natasha squeezed his hand in response and Steve said firmly, “You know I’d do anything for you, Bucky.” 

“I remember,” James said fondly. “How many times did you go off and fight something well beyond your strength because it looked askance at me? Does he still do that?”

“Less often now that he has a wife and child,” Natasha informed him. “Lady Margaret has been wonderful in talking him out of overly reckless ventures. And when she can’t, she usually joins him.”

Steve blushed and James turned to him, looking downright delighted. 

“Lady Margaret! Really? My heartiest congratulations, Steve! So You finally got up the courage to speak to her!”

Steve mumbled again and started walking faster to avoid his friend’s questions. 

“Oh, they’re an absolute delight,” Natasha told James, green eyes dancing with mirth. 

“I’m sure they are,” he agreed. “I have so much catching up to do, especially with you.”

He kissed her hand with a look that promised a lot more, and Natasha’s heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Her James was finally free. 

[chipper9906]

Carry On, Until You Find The Peace You Deserve

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15 (EPISODE 02 ‘RAISING HELL’, EPISODE 18 ‘DESPAIR, EPISODE 19 ‘INHERIT THE EARTH’, EPISODE 20 ‘CARRY ON’)

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 6,059

Status: One Shot - Complete

Summary/Preview:

“You gonna stay invisible back there the whole time Cas, or you gonna show yourself?”

Dean sees a flash of a tan trench-coat reflected in the rear-view mirror, blinking into existence with a rustle of wings that he’s not heard of in quite some time.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean lets himself smile again.

- - -

That finale killed me, so here we are I guess, four fics in the span of a month. Why do you do this to me, Supernatural. Why do you hate us all, CW.

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“Well...Cas helped.”

Three words. Three words, and all of a sudden the weight on Dean’s shoulders felt a hell of a lot lighter.

Which is ironic, since he’s dead. He shouldn’t have to carry that weight anymore.

But it’s because he’s dead that the weight was there.

Sacrifice. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice, over and over again. It seemed like you weren’t a true Winchester until you had sacrificed yourself. Maybe for the fate of the universe, maybe for someone you loved. And more often than not, sacrificing yourself for one of those would end up putting the other in peril. How many times had they sacrificed themselves for the world, only to put one of them in danger? And, similarly, how many times had they sacrificed themselves for someone they loved, only to screw up the world? It was like a roundabout circus they could never escape from.

Well. Until now, anyway.

So long as Sammy didn’t do anything stupid, that is.

And Cas... he had sacrificed himself for him. For someone he loves. And there’s no skirting around that now. Cas had said it outright. No more implications, no more hidden meanings... Cas loved him.

Even now, he can’t quite wrap his head around it. He hadn’t realized, because... well, because he didn’t think it was possible. Castiel was an angel. Sure, he was very different from the other angels, and over the years his time down on Earth along with Sam's and his influence had made him... well, more human. But he wasn’t human. He was an angel.

And angels aren’t supposed to feel. They aren’t supposed to have emotions. They weren’t supposed to love. And yet, Cas did. Cas had fallen in love. And not just with anyone, no-no, with him.

And yeah, he always knew Cas loved him, but he didn’t think he loved him. Okay, maybe that doesn’t make much sense, but it does to him.

And then, he had to live with that. To know Cas had died because of... no, that’s not right, for him Cas had let himself be taken, just so he could have a chance of getting out of there alive. A chance to take on Chuck. A chance to live.

And he was gonna try. No matter how much Cas's loss left a hole in his life. He was gonna carry on. He was gonna pull himself out of bed, he was gonna greet Miracle every morning with the cuddles she deserves (along with leftover scraps that Sam didn't approve of but couldn’t seem to find within himself to scold Dean for), he was gonna get himself a job, a real, boring civilian job, and he was gonna live.

That had been the plan, anyway. Hell, he had even somehow managed to get himself one of those jobs. Had signed his name on the dotted line and everything. He had been dreading telling Sam. He was sure he’d understand, but he just didn’t know the right way to tell him. Guess he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore.

‘But if we don’t keep livin’, then all that... sacrifice; it’ll be for nothing.’

And that’s why that weight had been there. Because he wanted Cas's sacrifice to mean something. To live, not just because Cas died for him to have the opportunity to, but because he wanted to. Because after all these years, of his whole life being written by the creator... they could finally live out their own story.

But he couldn’t stop himself. Another hunt, just like any other. Hell, he had gone into it thinking it might be his last hunt; if he finally gathered enough courage, grew a pair, and told Sam about the offer he had accepted.

Course, it had been his last hunt. Free from Chuck, free to start their own story... and it had ended just as quick as it had begun. Sammy was free for his story to continue, but theirs was over, and it came in the form of a rusted nail in his back.

Cas had died for him. Cas was trapped in that God awful place, for him, and how does he repay Cas for that sacrifice? He goes and gets himself killed not two weeks later.

But now? Now, he doesn’t have to think about that. He doesn’t have to torture himself with the image of Cas stuck in eternal darkness, living out his regrets while he stays cozy in heaven with his family and a beer in hand. Coz Cas was out. Cas was in heaven, here, somewhere.

He can see him again.

Bobby raises his brows at him, a brief knowing look before he turns away to chug down a gulp of completely average beer.

Dean lets himself smile.

“So, I guess the question is: what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

A perfectly placed stream of sunlight glints off the Impala’s sleek black metal top; not a scratch on her. He knows it's not really the Impala – the old license plate is proof of that. But it’s still his baby. Besides, he’s sure Sammy’s taking good care of the real girl down there. And he trusts that Sammy will pass her on to the right person when the times right.

That’s unless he wants to leave her to rust by herself in some random garage and risk Dean forcing himself out of heaven as a vengeful spirit to rip his little brother a new one.

Baby purrs just like she used to when Dean switches on the ignition. That deep rumble that emits from the engine, shakes her chassis and even now brings a smile to his face. That smile only grows when, out of curiously, he switches on the heat. He doesn’t need it of course - it’s a comfortably warm day - but the sound of the Legos rattling away in her vents is all he needed to hear. And when he cranes his neck around into the back seats, spotting the off-green army men figures crammed into the ashtray, he knows he’s going to have to wrap Jack up in a big old bear hug if ever shows his face around here.

Heaven wasn’t heaven because it was perfect. Neither was the Impala - her blemishes were what made her perfect in his eyes. His first beer with his dad wasn’t perfect because it was a masterpiece of brewing. Quite frankly it tasted like piss, but it was perfect because it was the first time he felt like his dad saw him as equal. As a man. A moment between father and son.

Those blemishes made heaven feel... real. More human. More like... the life you always wanted to live.

Maybe that’s why Jack had done it. Because Jack had experienced what it’s like to be one of them, to exist alongside humanity. He has rebuilt Heaven the way he thought humans deserved to have it.

And he made sure Cas was there to help, too.

Dean finally shuts off her ignition after pulling into a field off the side of the road. He pulls Baby into a small dirt side road that overlooked the growing crops, just taking a moment to watch the long green strands blowing peacefully in the gentle wind. The sun was still high in the sky, glinting off every shiny blade of grass nestled within the crops. The sky was that deep kind of blue where you could almost mistake it for the ocean. He wonders if Cas's eyes were Chuck's inspiration for the sky when he crafted it into existence.

“You gonna stay invisible back there the whole time Cas, or you gonna show yourself?”

Dean sees a flash of a tan trench-coat reflected in the rear-view mirror, blinking into existence with a rustle of wings that he’s not heard of in quite some time.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean lets himself smile again.

Dean doesn’t say anything at first. He swings the driver’s door open, stepping out and closing it gently behind him. When he gets to Baby’s trunk, the sight - or lack thereof - of no weapons is jarring. Instead, there's a cooler staring back at him. Perfect. He pulls two beers out from the cooler, holding both by the neck between his fingers as he closes the trunk with his free hand. He can still make out Cas's form sat in the back seat of the Impala as he walks back around her, hopping up on her hood and settling down.

The caps twist off easily, and they blink out of existence a few seconds after he chucks them down into the dirt. No littering in heaven, he supposed. He keeps one in his hand, the other he leaves resting next to him on the hood, a few beads of condensation slipping down the glass as the sun beats down on it. Dean takes a swig of his own beer, satisfied in the knowledge that drunk driving isn’t a thing he has to even consider anymore.

It only takes a few more seconds before he hears the squeak of one of Baby’s door being opened. Only a few more after that until the hood dips down with an additional weight, the comforting presence of someone next to him. Dean keeps his gaze to the view in front of him as he picks the bottle next to him up, holding it out to the side. He feels the bottle slide out of his hands.

He takes another sip.

“How did you know I was there?” Cas is the first to break the silence. He’s not looking at Dean either just yet. Like Dean, his eyes are fixed on the field.

“I didn’t,” Dean’s honest with him. “Took a shot.”

Cas huffs out a laugh. It brings another smile to Dean’s face. They seemed to come easy here.

“What would you have done if I wasn’t there?” Cas asks, amusement clear in his voice.

Dean chuckles around the lip of the beer bottle. “Looked like an idiot talking to myself in Baby, I guess.”

Dean risks a glance over to Cas. He looks...well, like Cas. There’s a certain sense of peace to him now, though. He doesn’t look like he had been suffering in the Empty until Jack got him out. In fact, there’s a gentle smile on his face as he peers out into heaven.

“So, uh... I hear Jack fished you out of... y'know...”

“He did,” Cas confirms in a rumble. “The Empty wasn’t all too fond of letting me go, at first. But Jack argued that the work we could do together would help make things a lot quieter around... well, everywhere. The Empty likes the quiet.”

Dean nodded slowly; his head held low. “Cas, listen man... I hope you know I agonized over finding a way to get you out. I did. But all I could think about was how it would be another risk, y'know? Another entity to piss off, and... Christ, after... after what you did? Knowing you died for me? I didn’t wanna throw my life away and just... spit in the face of your sacrifice.”

Cas turns to him now, a frown etched across his features. “I never expected you to, Dean. I never wanted you to. I was the one who summoned the Empty, after all. I had accepted what had to be done. I was ready.”

“Yeah, well… doesn’t mean you deserved to go out that way, Cas,” Dean said miserably. “You deserved better than that.”

“And I got better,” Castiel assured him. “I… I wanted to return to you, first. But Jack needed my help, and when he told me his plan… I knew I would be of better use up here. Turning Heaven into a place you deserved to rest for eternity. The least of what you and your brother deserve.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Cas,” Dean tells him, the statement seemingly having taken Cas aback. “I’m proud of you. After everything you did, all that you’ve suffered… the second Jack yanks you out of that Hell, you come straight up here and get to work. For me, for Sam, for humanity… you deserve more, Cas. Hell, you deserve a damn break…”

Cas smiles softly down at the drink in his hand. “I’m not too sure what a break would even entail for me…”

“There a beach hidden somewhere in this place?” Dean asks, half-joking and half being dead serious. “Maybe we can finally go on that beach vacation, eh? Me, you and Sammy, swim trunks, sea, sun, and sand… or speedos – I don’t judge. Maybe we can even convince the kid to come down for it when Sammy gets up here?”

Cas’s smile grows even softer- if that’s even possible. “I think Jack might be busy for a while,” Castiel confesses. “But he’ll still be there, in a way-,”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean cuts Castiel off with a roll of his eyes. “Coz he’s everywhere, right?”

“Well, he is.”

Dean grunts. “Yeah? Does that mean he was in the huge-ass nail that went through my back?”

The smile on Cas’s face waivers, eventually dropping from his face completely as the seconds tick by in silence. “That wasn’t the end I envisioned for you, Dean. You… you deserved to live the life you worked hard to secure.”

“Wasn’t the end I envisioned either, Cas. But it’s a risk me and Sammy took with every hunt we went on. I thought it’d be more… dramatic, you know? Maybe a little quicker. Shot to the head, knife to the throat, something like that… Man, I gotta tell ya’, dying slow? It sucks. Sure, gives you time to say what you want to say, but…” Dean’s voice catches, dropping his head down to his lap, picking absentmindedly at the corner of the golden label wrapped around his bottle. “I was scared, Cas. Couldn’t help it. I could feel it, feel it impaled in my heart, and… there’s something terrifying about knowing it’s comin’, but you can’t do anything about it. I just… I didn’t want to die alone, y’know? Sammy at least saved me from that…”

“Jack had to use his powers to restrain me.”

Dean’s head shoots up, whipping around to face Cas. He looked as tortured as his voice sounded. “Were you aware you were praying to me, Dean? Even… even though you thought I was dead, in that moment you were dying, you prayed to me… I could feel your panic. Your fear. Hear you calling out to me, your last desperate attempt… and I was going to go to you, without a second thought. I couldn’t stand to feel your pain like that, Dean.”

“I, uh… yeah, I know I prayed to you…” Dean found he couldn’t stand Cas’s gaze boring into him anymore, letting his gaze drop down to the ground. “Jack really stopped you?”

“He didn’t want to. He didn’t want this any more than me. But we both agreed that life should return back to the natural order of things. No more second chances, no more crossroad deals… The reapers are already having a tough time trying to readjust to all the changes that have happened recently, especially with how many The Empty disposed of when she was trying to get Billie’s attention… This way, Jack hopes that the Earth will become… more peaceful. Thankfully, Rowena has agreed to the terms in Hell. Crossroad deals are no more. The only souls headed to Hell are those that have been rightfully damned. And those that have lived a good life… they come up here.

“It made sense, at the time. I thought… well, I assumed we would have some time to rebuild Heaven more thoroughly, get everything done we wanted to achieve before you and your brother made your way up here. I had hoped for a good few decades at least… Then two Earth weeks later… I feel you dying.”

“Sorry for ruining your plans,” Dean delivers the line as deadpan as he possibly can. It gets a weird mix of a sigh and dry chuckle from Cas, so he guesses it’s mostly mission accomplished. “Seriously though, man? All this? This is a hell of an accomplishment in the time you and Jack had.”

“Thank you,” Cas said sincerely. “I’m just… I know it’s going to be hard for you, Dean. Waiting for Sam. Jack and I, we had… we had hoped you’d go together, peacefully, in your sleep.”

“I’ll be okay. Like Bobby said, he’ll be along eventually, right? I don’t want him up here too quick, y’know? He deserves that long, happy, human life. White picket fence and all that crap. But… shit, I know I ask too much of you already Cas, but… do you think you could just… check up on him every now and then? Make sure he’s doin’ alright… let him know I’m alright. If that ain't breaking Jack’s rules, of course…”

The corner of Cas’s lips twitched up just the slightest. “I think the rules can be… bent, for such an occasion.”

“Still the rebellious angel at heart, huh Cas?” Dean asked him with a grin.

“I have you to blame for that.”

“Thank. The word you’re looking for there is ‘Thank’, Cas. You have me to thank for that.”

“That I do, Dean Winchester. That I do.”

The silence they found themselves in was comfortable. Familiar. The beer in Dean’s hand was getting warmer, and while he knew he could cool it down again simply with a thought, he finds he rather prefers it this way.

“I can check on him now if you want,” Castiel offers after a few minutes had passed.

“What, like, now? You’re just gonna fly down there?”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t need to. I can see him, from here, if I were to properly look.”

Something in Dean’s gut twisted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know of Sam’s state, knowing full well how much his brother would be grieving after his death.

“It’s a little soon, don’t you think? I… I don’t know if I could face seeing Sammy like that…”

“I think a part of Sam will always be grieving you, Dean. Whilst it true that time heals all wounds, those scars will still remain. But I think after these few years since, he’ll already be in a better place.”

“Whoa, wait, a few years?” Dean sputtered, nearly choking on the mouthful of beer in his mouth (even though he’s about ninety-nine percent sure he can’t choke in Heaven). “I haven’t been up here that long.”

“Time moves differently here, Dean. What feels like a few hours here translates to years passing back down on Earth.”

“Oh…” Dean is just about able to get out. He supposed the silver lining in that was that it really wouldn’t be long until he got to see Sammy again. “Uh, then, yeah. Sure, Cas - if you don’t mind doing that for me.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Castiel tells him moments before a wave of blankness washes across his face, eyes going dead in that ‘looking but not seeing’ way. Well, Dean knew he was looking in more ways than just looking.

When Cas seems to snap back into his own body, Dean is surprised to see the sheen of tears that appeared in his eyes and the quick, shocked little gasp he let out. Fear twisted inside Dean like a knife in his gut, waiting in tense anticipation for Cas to say something.

“Cas? Cas, what – Is Sammy okay?”

“He’s okay,” Cas is quick to assure him, and Dean feels the tension practically melt away from his body. “He’s more than okay, in fact.”

“Oh yeah? Kid finally scrap enough of his brains together and get his law degree?”

“I just watched Sam and Eileen welcome their son into the world.”

Dean’s heart freezes in his chest at the words. Tears spring into his eyes faster than he ever thought possible, the watery smile Cas was giving him only forcing the tears out faster.

“You serious? He – I’m an uncle?”

“You are,” Castiel’s confirmation make’s the realization sink in just a little more. “And as he cradled his son in his arms, I heard the name ‘Dean’ slip from his lips. Eileen was more than happy with the name.”

“Wow… what a cheesy dumbass,” Dean resolutely ignores the tear that escapes and slips down his face. “He’s gonna be a great Dad.”

“He will be.” Castiel agreed. “And I’m sure Sam will have many stories of Dean Jr. to share once he joins you here.”

“I’d say I can’t wait, but… you know what? I can. I can wait.” Castiel shoots him an inquisitive look. Dean grins brightly at him, bumping his shoulder into Cas’s. “I got my angel to keep me company. Sure, heaven ain't complete until I got Sammy, but Heaven wouldn’t be Heaven without you by my side, Cas.”

Castiel looks genuinely shocked by this statement, and it makes Dean’s heartache just a little. Damn… he really didn’t know, did he? But… but that didn’t make much sense… If he had heard the prayer, then…

“Cas… how much of my prayer did you hear?”

“I…” Cas paused, looking almost pained as he concentrated. “I… I suppose towards the end when Jack was restraining me, and when I… well, I suppose it’s possible I could no longer hear you through my… screams…”

“Your screams?” Dean blanched. “Was Jack hurting you?”

“No,” Cas spoke quietly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a physical pain, Dean…”

The realization makes Dean pale. “Oh… Jesus, Cas… I’m sorry for making you go through that… I know from experience it ain't fun watching someone you love die.”

Castiel freezes immediately. Dean isn’t even looking at Cas straight on, yet he can still sense Cas’s frame tensing up out of the corner of his eye. If he were more of an asshole, he’d probably laugh. Except, the conversation they’re about to have probably won’t be funny.

Probably…

“This would be a hell of a lot easier if you had heard my prayer… but then again, the point of it was that I regretted not being able to tell you in person.”

“I… I don’t understand?” Castiel is watching him warily, tiptoeing around him like prey that was about to spook. Dean understood why. He knows it’s easier to never put your hopes up, coz then that way it doesn’t hurt quite as much when they’re dashed quite so cruelly.

“When I was hanging on that nail… saying my goodbyes to Sammy, I was… I was fading damn quick, Cas. I suppose having a piece of metal shoved through your spine messes you up pretty bad, so… For a moment, I forgot… I forgot you were gone. I was looking around for you, man. I was trying to find you, coz… I never got to say goodbye. You got your goodbye, you know? You said a hell of a lot more than just goodbye, and… you deserved to hear so much more from me, more than just a goodbye, and I couldn’t even give you that.”

“Dean, it’s okay-,”

“No, Cas, it’s not,” Dean said firmly. “I couldn’t even think, let alone speak. It all felt… out of nowhere, y’know? I thought that that would be it, Billie would take both of us and that was our end, together. And then you… you were saying all this stuff about me, this… well, they were things I refused to believe about myself, until you made them some of your last words and then… it felt disrespectful to disagree after that…”

Cas ducks his head down with a breathy chuckle that surprises them both. Okay, maybe this conversation would be kinda funny.

“I wasn’t sure if you would take them to heart after,” Cas tells him. “I knew all I could do was… make sure you knew the way I saw you. Of the good man you truly are.”

“Even in your last moments… you were looking out for me,” Dean smiles weakly at Cas. “Guess mom was right, huh? I did have an angel watching over me.”

“Chuck had written our destinies. You were the righteous man, intended to bring about paradise on Earth under Michael’s command… And I was the angel intended to rescue you from Hell. To make sure you were ready for your fate.”

“And then I introduced you to free will and all Hell broke loose, huh?”

Cas hides his smile behind the bottle he brings to his lips. “Well, Chuck never intended for me to fall in love you with, that’s for sure. It was the only thing I truly knew was real…”

Dean bobs his head up and down as Cas’s words wash over him. He pauses, brows furrowing as he thinks back…

And then it hits him.

“We are…” Dean mumbles quietly under his breath. Cas glances over to him, cocking his head as he waits for Dean to elaborate.

“We’re… what?”

“We are… That’s what you said, wasn’t it? I asked what about our lives was real, and you said, ‘we are.’ Oh my God, you meant-,” Dean groans sharply, just barely resisting the urge to throw his head back against the windshield.

And then he laughs.

It wasn’t just a short, quick chuckle either. No, we’re talking full-on maniac laughing here. It starts off small and innocent enough, and then before he knows it he’s hunched over himself, an arm slung around his stomach and wheezing so hard he might just pass out from lack of oxygen. Cas at least had the decency to look concerned for his mental wellbeing for the first few seconds, shooting Dean a rather alarmed look as his laughter got louder and louder. Said laughter proved to be contagious however, and even through his mass confusion, Castiel found himself breaking out into deep rumbles of laughter, a peaceful warm lighted in his chest at the sound of Dean’s carefree laughter.

“How many signs did I miss?” Dean chokes out through his laughter. “How many years, Cas? How many ways did you find a way to tell me, to show me… and it wasn’t until you looked me dead in the eyes and said the words that I realized! Are we idiots? Are we both just dumbasses?”

This sets Cas off into a few more fits of laugher alongside him, beers long abandoned to avoid a classic spit take, resting haphazardly atop Baby’s hood between then. 

“I thought the direct approach would be better this time. You know, with me dying and all.”

That’s not at all funny, but Dean doesn’t feel too bad about his ugly snorts when Cas was laughing about his own death, too.

“Christ, Cas… I love you so damn much, it’s not even funny.”

And apparently it wasn’t funny, because Cas stopped laughing pretty damn quick once he said that. His gaze was fixated on Dean’s still smiling face, eyes as wide as dinner plates as they scanned meticulously across Dean’s face, looking for any sign he was joking.

“You do?”

“Course I do, Cas. Only someone as stupid as me could fall in love with the one best friend in my life, and then be so terrified of messing up our friendship that I just… pretended those feelings weren’t there. Turn that love into a family type of love, coz… that was the kind of love I knew how to handle. But how could I not fall for you, Cas? I mean… it’s you.”

“You love… me? Me?”

“Yeah, Cas. You. I love you. I love the way you’re always trying to do the right thing. I love how you were willing to turn your back on your family, to help a couple of idiot brothers save humanity. I love how you became a part of our family. How much you loved the kid, and how you helped me to love him, too. I love how selfless you are, how much you give yourself to us, to me, even when you’ve gone through hell. I love how no matter what I did, you always came back home to me, even when I sure as hell didn’t deserve it. I love how you sneak glances at me when you think I’m not looking… or when you stare unabashedly into my eyes for much longer than is socially acceptable… I love you, you dorky, socially awkward, trench-coat clad angel. Because you’re you.”

Castiel stares blankly at him.

“You love me?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to be worried for Cas’s mental state. “Uh, you need a minute there, Cas? Listen, man - I get it. It takes some time to process something like this. Except, in my case, I kinda had to deal with the fact that you were dead on top of that, too. Well, I suppose I’m dead now too technically, but it’s not like I’m going to die again up here, so-,”

Castiel throws himself at Dean so fast that it sends the bottles of beer between them flying off the hood. Dean’s gasp of surprise is muffled by Cas’s mouth on his, brain short-circuiting as he very suddenly has a lap full of angel. Dean’s eyes flutter shut as he gives in to the addicting feel of Cas’s lips, sliding his fingers through Cas’s short strands of dark hair and giving it small sharp tugs that have Cas gasping into his mouth.

“Why-,” Cas pants into the space between them. “Did you wait until after you were dead to tell me this?”

Dean chuckles warmly, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Cas’s. “Technically I told you as I was dying. Same as you, so… kind of a hypocrite there, Cas.”

Cas huffs so hard that Dean can feel the exhaled puff of air wash across his face. Dean leans his head backward, another joke on the tip of his tongue when he freezes, mouth dropping open at the sight in front of him.

Wings. Huge, incredible, full wings.

“Cas… your wings,” Dean exclaims in disbelief, barely able to hold back from reaching out and giving the feathers a stroke.

They were… well, Dean doesn’t want to sound like a girl here, but ‘beautiful’ was the only word that came to mind. Sure, he’d seen the shadows of his wings back when they had first met, but it paled in comparison to truly seeing them. The feathers were a deep, ebony black, so dark it seemed like no light was being absorbed by them; the only exception being the sheen of bright colors reflecting off each individual feather, coming together to form a rainbow of colors that shone brightly as Heaven’s sunlight glinted off of them. It reminded Dean of… an oil spill. Those beautiful colors only revealed when exposed to the light of the sun.

“Hmm? Oh-,” Castiel glances back at the two massive appendages sprouting from his back, looking annoyed of all things at the sight of them. “Apologies, I only usually switch them over to this plane of existence when exerting my power… I think that, um… our interaction may have coaxed them out.”

“You saying this is the equivalent of an angel boner, Cas?” Dean jokes, getting an unimpressed look from Cas in response. “How’d you get them back? I thought you’d lost your wings?”

“Damaged, not lost.” Cas corrected him. “They were… they were in tatters after the fall. As were all the other angels cast down during the fall… It was the one gift Jack was able to bestow upon me once we had returned to heaven.”

“Aren’t my eyes supposed to be burning out of my sockets right now?” Dean asked cautiously, almost waiting for that exact thing to happen.

“No. Not now you’re in Heaven.”

“That’s good, coz… Holy crap, Cas – they’re gorgeous.” Dean asserted, torn between taking in every detail of Cas’s wings he can, or drinking in the bright red flush that spread across Cas’s face.

Cas shuffled back over to his side of the hood, and Dean found he immediately missed the warmth of Cas wrapped around him. “I’ve never been complimented on my wings before…”

“Never?” Dean found that hard to believe.

“Black wings are seen as an… omen. Most angels steered clear of me in Heaven, those under my command had to give me respect because of my position, but… they never truly respected me. It was mere formality than anything… And the, um… the sheen was found to be very distracting to others during flight.”

“Listen Cas, I know they’re your family and all, but they’re dumbasses. It’s their loss. Plain ol’ white fluffy wings are boring anyway. These? These are sleek, gorgeous… Just like Baby’s color,” Dean threw a wink in Cas’s direction, giving Baby a pat underneath them. “Black’s a good color on you, Cas. Don’t let them asshats tell you otherwise.”

“Thank you…” Castiel mumbled quietly, finding it quite hard to meet Dean’s gaze. “I never really took much notice of the other angel’s opinions, anyway… Yours is the only one I care about.”

“Don’t speak too soon, Cas. I’m gonna be gushing over your wings for eternity, so you might get sick of me pretty quick.”

Cas smiled tenderly. “Not possible.”

“You better be prepared for Sammy to nerd out over your wings, though. He’s gonna be asking you all about how they work.” Dean warmed him.

“I imagine Sam will have a lot of questions once he’s here.”

“Yeah, well – don’t be afraid to kick the kid out of our house when he gets a little too… y’know, Sam. We’ll let him mope with Eileen for a bit at the roadhouse until he remembers boundaries again.”

Cas went quiet for a bit, thinking over what he had just heard. “…Our house?”

Dean frowned at him, but there was an amused smile on his face, too. “Yeah, our house. You think I’m gonna mope around that place all by myself?”

“I… I assumed with Sam just down the road-,”

“Yeah, exactly, Sammy’s down the road. You can bet your ass I’m gonna be annoying the kid every day with unnecessary visits, but I still need my angel by my side.”

“Dean, I… I still have work to do, responsibilities to Heaven…”

“I get that, Cas. I do.” Dean assured him gently. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t come home at the end of every day, huh? Just like normal people do. Maybe take the weekends off, lazy Sundays with pancakes in bed?”

“…Heaven doesn’t have weekends. Or weekdays. Or days, really.”

“I’m trying to be cute here, Cas.”

“Oh…” Cas mumbled. “It’s… working?”

“C’mon, big picture here, Cas. We’ll do all the normal people stuff we missed out on. Maybe… God, it’s so cheesy, but uh… Date night, y’know? Watch some old movies together while we share a bowl of popcorn, I can whip up some of my world-famous burgers… maybe bake a pie?”

Cas’s smile grew warmer and warmer the more Dean spoke, ducking his head as Dean’s tone became more and more hopeful. “That… sounds nice.”

“And then… who knows where we go from there. But it’ll be our decision. Our story. And, y’know, maybe one day… maybe one day we’ll go door to door, Mom, and Dad, Bobby and Rufus, Ellen and Jo, and Ash, and Pamela, Charlie, and Kevin… and everyone else once they get here; Sammy and Eileen, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex and Kaia, and then…”

“And then what?” Castiel inquires.

“And then they’ll see us finally get our shit together,” Dean answered with a grin. “And we’ll wave to them every morning with golden bands on our fingers.”

“…and you’re sure you want that with me?”

“When I said I need you? It’s because I need you. When I told you I loved you? It’s because I love you. So yeah, Cas. I wanna spend eternity with you.”

Castiel’s answering smile was as bright as the sun above them. “I’d like that, Dean Winchester.”

“Then I look forward to eternity with you, Castiel Winchester,” Dean places his hand over Cas’s, intertwining their fingers and giving it a tender squeeze. “Now come on - Sammy’s gonna be pissed if I’m not there for his welcoming party.”

[animequeen122]

A New Dream Chapter 3

                                                  Chapter 3

             Everything felt hazy and my body felt heavy. I was cold and tired. I did not want to die but I was happy. I got to live, even for just a brief time, in the same world as the Straw Hats and even see Zoro in the flesh. I wanted to do more. If I survived this, I was going to pursue Zoro and be strong enough to make Luffy King of the Pirates.

             Suddenly I was coughing up water and I could hear people around get excited about something. I opened my eyes and saw I was once again in the infirmary. I really need to stop ending up here. I was getting pissed at myself.

             “I am so happy you’re alive.” Chopper said crying and hugging me. I smiled at the reindeer. It seems like I made it. That made me stop. Oh shit. I remember the promise I made to myself. Note: Never make promises when you think you’re dying unless you are certain you will die.

             “I think that proves you have a devil fruit unless you don’t know how to swim?” Brook asked sipping on some tea.

             “I love swimming. It was the closest thing I could get to flying. I always dreamed of growing wings and flying.” I replied looking up at the ceiling. Chopper was doing an exam on me while I was talking.

             “You seem to be doing okay but I think you should rest for the day. Sanji can you make her some broth. Everyone has to leave.” Chopper says shooing away the crew.

             “Wait!” I yelled being louder than I meant to. The crew all looked at me and waited. “Which one of you saved me? I want to thank them.” I say looking at their faces to see any indication.

             “Zoro did.” Nami stated smirking just a bit to let me know that she knew about my feelings for the green-haired swordsman. Zoro was slightly turned towards me with his resting ‘don’t fuck with me’ face on.

             “Thank you so much Zoro. I would have died if you hadn’t saved me.” I say doing my very best to look I am not sure what the word is. But I wanted to be subtle that I wanted his attention.

             “Don’t mention it.” Zoro replied exiting the room. It seems like I was unsuccessful in my first attempt at flirting. Than again the rest of the crew was still in the room, so I don’t think I could have been subtle without alerting them. Nami knew and I am pretty sure that Robin knew as well. Everyone left except for Chopper.

             “Get some sleep Sam. I will wake you up when Sanji brings you the broth.” Chopper tells me doing his best to make me feel better. I nodded and turned to face the wall. I had never slept on a ship and barely been on one. So it was strange laying still but moving at the same time. I closed my eyes and started to imagine things that would make me happy. It was the only way I could go to sleep especially since I did not have my iPad to watch videos on.

           When I woke up I had noticed that the sun was much further down in the sky. I looked around the cabin and noticed that Chopper was gone but there was a bowl of broth sitting on his desk. I took the cover off and went over to the table. Sitting down I started drinking the broth. I almost thought this was all of this was a dream but the room I was in proved me wrong. I finished the broth and I hear the door open. Turning around I to see Chopper coming in.

             “I was just coming in to check on you but it seems you are doing well.” Chopper says as he sees that I drank the broth.

             “Yeah I think I just overwhelmed by self today with everything.” I reply getting up from the chair.

             “If you are feeling better you can come with me. I can show you around the Sunny.” Chopper says becoming very excited.

             “Sure. I mean I saw some of it before but wouldn’t mind a tour to familiarize myself.” I reply smiling. Honestly I was just as excited as Chopper. I will get to see the Sunny through my own eyes. Chopper motions me to follow him. When we left the doctor’s office, I could only see Luffy on the Sunny’s head, Nami reading in a sun chair, and Brook playing his violin. I assumed the others were doing other things. I knew where Zoro was.

             “This way Sam!” Chopper scurries ahead of me. Chopper gave me an amazing tour of the ship. I got to see where the other crew members were at and what they did in their spaces. Chopper than took me to the crow’s nest. We go up and open the door. There we saw a half-naked Zoro working out. I could feel my heart just beat so much faster. My imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. Zoro noticed our presence and set the weights down.

           “Hey Zoro I am showing Sam around the Sunny!” Chopper exclaimed being extremely excited I have seen him. I knew Chopper was like the kid of the crew and everyone treated him like their own child.

             “It’s been so unreal seeing the Sunny in person. Again I can’t thank you enough Zoro for saving me.” I smile brightly at him. From where I was it looked like he wasn’t reacting at all.

             “Don’t mention it. The only one I wouldn’t save is that stupid cook.” Zoro replied grabbing a towel drying himself off. I was once again made very aware of Zoro’s body. At this point I wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that I was checking him out. I was still nervous about my “dying promise” and was still unsure of how to proceed.

             “Would it be okay if I just stay here and watch you? I promise I won’t bother you.” I asked doing my best to be polite as possible. I though that if I started to spend more time with Zoro, I might be able to get on friendly terms with him. I remembered that he was very wary of Robin when she first joined.

             “Me too! I want to spend more time with Sam.” Chopper said raising his hand like he wanted to answer a question in class.

             “Suit yourself.” Zoro replied going back to his weights. Chopper and I took a seat on the bench next to the window. I took a moment to look outside the window. The sea looked like blue crystal shining across the horizon. The view made me happy. Just thinking about the journey ahead of me was exciting. I moved my attention back to Zoro. Zoro was now doing push ups which gave me a wonderful view of his whole back and let me tell you it is my new favorite view. It brough me back to my new goal. But how would I do that? I was not naturally flirty or outgoing. Though even if I was Zoro was one of the most dense person out there. My only option would be to outright tell him. But how will he react? I sighed heavily. First I am going to have to become courageous.

             After about an hour or so of just staring at Zoro, I decided to go back down to deck of the Sunny. As soon I got down I was swarmed by Nami and Robin who than proceeded to the girls’ room.

             “Now that we got you alone, we want to know why you like Zoro so much.” Nami inquired crossing her legs and arms giving me the look that she was not letting me get away. I could feel my nerves bubbling to the surface. But at the same time I could feel like I could trust them. I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts.

             “It is not like, it is love. I am in love with Zoro.” I whispered hoping by not saying too loud that only Nami and Robin would hear.

             “Well to most of the crew knew that. You aren’t the best at keeping your emotions hidden.” Robin commented smiling at me.

             “Are you going to do anything about it?” Nami asked.

             “Yeah but whenever I think about it I get too scared to say anything or do anything.” I countered.

             “What do you love about Zoro?” Robin queried giving me her kind smile.

             “His kindness. He doesn’t show it often but the way he is with Chopper makes me smile. His loyalty. Zoro is so loyal to the crew and especially to Luffy. I feel safe whenever I am near him. Zoro may act tough but I know he cares about everyone and wants to protect you all.” I said smiling and trying to think of all the things I love about Zoro. To be honest there were too many for me to tell them.  Nami and Robin both looked at each other and than back at me smiling.

             “I’m going to do it.” I exclaimed standing up.