#and then later never comes cause i have no damn object permanence Or working memory

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the desire to do comms vs my inability to remember that i got a message FIGHT-

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist. 

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib). 

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that). 

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism? 

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent. 

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

[fandom-necromancer]

A fresh Start

This was prompted by a wonderful anon! I really enjoyed this! I hope you do too!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: repressed childhood trauma, self harm (description of scars and mention of cutting oneself))

‘Phck you, you phcking tin-can!’ It wasn’t the first time Gavin shouted at Nines in the bullpen, but it was the first time their argument held on for so long. The Detective had come down from Fowler’s office just to stop in front of Nines who was still seated at his table. Gavin had begun screaming curse words at him causing Nines to rise to his feet. But the added height and the fact that he stood in front of an android build for war failed to intimidate the man. If anything, it made him even angrier. ‘How could I ever trust you?’, Gavin screamed, subconsciously taking position to evade a coming blow from Nines. ‘How? If you pull something like this without even phcking preparing me?’ ‘Gavin, I don’t even know what you mean, I-‘ ‘No! Don’t you even dare go down this road! Don’t pretend you didn’t mean it. Don’t dare pretending this wasn’t exactly what you wanted! As if anyone in this damn precinct wouldn’t be happy about me being gone. You don’t want me to die on the job, yeah, no one dares to voice that and it isn’t decent to think about that, am I right?’ ‘Gavin-‘ ‘Oh, but if I conveniently disappeared, that wouldn’t be so bad. You don’t care if I take a vacation, or if I’m sick, or suspended. You wouldn’t care if I got fired! You would like that, wouldn’t you? Finally getting rid of that annoying brat that never was good for anything than causing trouble. Would be a nice life, wouldn’t it?’ ‘Gavin!’

The Detective’s head spun around, and he focussed back on Nines who looked far more offended by that than from any curse thrown his way before. But Gavin didn’t back down. He pointed at his collarbone, stopping only centimetres away from actually touching him. ‘Phck off, tin-can! Phck. Off. You all get what you phcking wished for. See you assholes next week!’

Gavin stomped away, determined on getting home while his head was already in his liquor cabinet in his kitchen. But Nines had grabbed his arm to hold him back and an unstoppable force met an immovable object. He felt his leather jacket being pulled from his shoulder halfway down his arm. Then Nines’ grip fastened, realising he wouldn’t stop Gavin this way. Then he heard the fabric of his old hoodie tear apart. In a panic, he tried to pull himself free, but only managed to lose the sleeve of his jacket completely and rip his hoodie the entire length from amidst his upper arm down to the seam.

Time stopped. Mortified, Gavin looked up at the android who held the piece of fabric from the hoodie in his hand and stared at it quizzically. Both seemed to realise Gavin’s arm lay bare for everyone to see that very second and Nines’ eyes widened. Too frozen by totally irrational fear, Gavin didn’t move when the android gently held his wrist to get a better look at the white lines criss-crossing all over his arm in no discernible pattern. When he started using his other hand to trace them though, it all got too much. Gavin pulled his arm to his chest and struggled to catch the side of his jacket to pull it back over his shoulder and hide the arm. He looked back at Nines once with an unintentionally hurt and fearful expression on his face, before finally bolting. He had to get out, just get out of there and get home. He was safe there. He didn’t have to play a role or be the strong guy anymore. He had to get home. Now.

-

Nines had watched Gavin run away from him. He had been aware of the faces of his co-workers watching him. He did the only logical thing and went back to his desk to continue working. But he couldn’t concentrate. He had folded the ripped piece of fabric and laid it next to his terminal hoping to look busy, so the rest of the force went back to their work. In truth he continued thinking about what just happened. The Detective had screamed at him frequently. He had screamed at everyone on a daily basis and was quite renown to be a huge asshole. Nines could work with him and the Detective’s outbursts were always quick to be over. But not this time. This time he just knew he had overstepped a boundary. But he didn’t know what action of his had led to this. And then there was this new discovery about the man. These… scars. These white lines he had covered up. Since when? Nines could not remember a day Gavin hadn’t worn long sleeves, now that he thought about it. He had put it on poor circulation resulting in a permanent feeling of cold in the Detective. But now… Maybe there was more to it.

And Nines needed to know. He had to know how these scars had come to exist and what he had done to receive such a reaction from the man. If only so it wouldn’t happen again. He made a decision. Once his shift was over, he would drive over to his house and talk with him before getting back home himself. If the man was even willing to talk. If Gavin would even open the door.

Even though he had doubts, he still had to at least attempt on getting some information. He thought about the right words to get the Detective’s attention and convince him not to just slam the door in his face while he sat in a bus heading his direction. When he finally stood in front of said door and had rung the doorbell, he clearly hadn’t expected he didn’t even need these words. A tired looking Gavin opened the door and stared at him out of red swollen eyes. His eyes didn’t allow any question, as he just stared up at the android from the gap between door and frame. Then he sighed and opened the door completely. ‘Come on in.’

Surprised, Nines followed the invitation and scanned the room. His eyes managed to fall on the kitchen table that supported a first aid kit. The android turned to the human. ‘Gavin what-‘ He stopped as his eyes fell on the man’s bloody arm, but Gavin would have interrupted him that moment anyways: ‘Shut up, tin-can. Let me take care of this first and then we can talk.’ ‘Why do you agree on talking about it?’, Nines asked nonetheless. This behaviour was entirely atypical for the human. ‘You wouldn’t have accepted that and went home regardless of my answer, right?’ Nines hummed. ‘I would have for today. Although I doubt, I would have let the topic fall.’ ‘See? Better to get it out of the world before you confront me at work and everyone knows about it.’

Nines followed Gavin to the table and sat down opposite of the man, watching how he dabbed a wet cloth over his arm to wash the blood away. Nines saw several clean cuts, not deep enough to be of any real danger. Most had already stopped bleeding by themselves. Afterwards, Gavin covered them with a light bandage and pulled the torn sleeve from his hoodie over it. He had experience in cleaning these kinds of wounds. Nines didn’t want to think about why he had it.

Gavin put his tools away, threw the razor blade he had cut himself with away and closed the lid of the first aid kit. Apparently, that was the sign conversation was allowed to start. ‘Before you say anything, I know it is a bad habit and that I should stop but I can’t, so don’t even try.’ Nines nodded. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to convince him later though. For now, he only asked: ‘Why?’ Gavin blew air through his teeth while reclining on his chair. ‘To have a reason to cry? To focus on something? To destress?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because my dad’s an asshole?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because I wasn’t good enough?’

Nines sighed in frustration. ‘Gavin, either don’t tell me anything or explain it to me, but please, make a decision.’ ‘Alright. Men aren’t supposed to cry, right? If a child cries, it’s because that’s what children do. If a teenager cries, it’s because of idiotic crushes and hormones. If an adult cries, it’s because they aren’t manly enough or weak or some bullshit. No one ever asks why they cry. But if you are hurt you are allowed to cry because that is pain and bodily responses and no one can control that.’ He looked up at Nines, who just nodded encouragingly. ‘My dad favoured my brother. Nothing unusual, I mean many people have that problem growing up. And with Eli that was reasonable. I mean, I would have favoured him too. It’s just the same as buying something new instead of second hand. I’m not angry about Eli getting all the attention, I can live with that. I was…’ He swallowed and covered the piece of bandage visible through the tear in his sleeve with his hand as if that could hide it away from Nines’ memories. ‘I had problems being told I wasn’t enough. Didn’t matter what I did, I was always told I wouldn’t be as good as Eli. It was true, I knew I would never be. But I didn’t need to hear that. They could have told me what I did was bad or not worth the effort, but they told me I could never improve. And if you hear that shit long enough from people you look up to, you start to believe it.’ He stayed quiet for a while, before cursing. ‘Phck, I need a drink for this.’

He stood up and came back a few minutes later with a bottle of wine and two glasses, realising too late that, shit, android. He shrugged and placed them anyways, filling only his. ‘I cried a lot. Whenever I thought about how useless it was to put any effort in anything because I would never be good, I asked myself why even continuing. But I liked what I did, I enjoyed school, even though I never got good grades. So I continued and cried when I needed to. My mom always was concerned when I did, coming to my room and trying to comfort me. She meant well I guess, but it didn’t really help. Because every time she tried to speak to my dad, he would come to talk with me, scolding him for not having the guts to talk with him when I had a problem. So in trying to help she made it worse, so I told her to stop. She did. Don’t know if it made it better or worse though.’ He took a long sip from his glass.

‘Well, I started cutting myself then. It helped focussing on something real too. I moved out the moment I finished school and a friend of mine, Tina, applied at the police academy. So I thought to do that too. Didn’t really knew what to do anyways. And life got better. I had nothing else in my life, so I put my everything into this. And I was good. I was praised for my good grades and exceptional performance. Likely was the first time anyone did that. When I started working at the precinct Fowler was far more of a dad for me than my real father could ever be. Made it Detective in no time, could have been Lieutenant by now, I guess. But… Well, I’m still an asshole. Can’t take criticism without immediately lashing out. I get easily riled up in tough situations and having mental problems recognised in your patient’s file doesn’t help either.’

Gavin closed his eyes and concentrated on just breathing for a moment. ‘My work is all I have. All I’ll be ever good at and I like it. I’m happy when I can be there. I enjoy being a detective. I don’t need to make it big. I can afford a home and what I need to live and can go on vacation.’

This time Gavin kept quiet and didn’t make any move to break the silence between them. ‘Why are you telling me this now?’, Nines dared to ask. ‘Why have you never spoken about this before?’ ‘Because I’ll quit’, Gavin answered, his voice wavery again. ‘Or ask for a transfer. Or try and get a grip in the PI business. I don’t know yet. But I need a fresh start, I need a second chance somewhere where no one knows me yet. I need to try to be better.’ ‘What did I do wrong, Gavin? You clearly made that decision after leaving Fowler’s office and you were angry with me before your feelings overwhelmed you. What did I do wrong?’ Gavin watched him for a long time, maybe trying to see whether he was joking or not. ‘You did nothing wrong, tin-can. You just wrote a report that got me suspended, but it were my actions that lead to that. I can’t punch a suspect in the interrogation room. I know that. And I still did it.’ ‘He provoked you.’ Gavin grumbled something unintelligible. ‘Well yes, but I shouldn’t have done it still.’

Nines thought about what the human had said. It was Gavin’s fault, but still Nines couldn’t shake the feeling that he could have done something to intervene and stop it from happening. If he had known Gavin better back then in the interrogation room, maybe he would have recognised what the suspect had been trying to do when speaking to the Detective. He was quite certain he knew Gavin’s weakness now. He could try and protect that spot that would hurt most when struck.

‘Why not stay?’, Nines asked. ‘With what I told you just now? Never. You’ll just laugh at me and tell the others.’ ‘Have I laughed at you once since you told me what bothers you?’, Nines defended himself. ‘I value the trust you put in me by telling me, Gavin. Your secret is safe with me. I am your partner and I will support you if you want me to. I won’t tell anyone.’ ‘Huh’, Gavin huffed unfazed. ‘As if.’ ‘I promise you I will never tell anyone until I am no longer functioning. And if I do you have the explicit permission to put a bullet through my central processor.’

That made the man lift his brows. ‘Alright. Still, even if you kept your mouth shut. Why should I suddenly change who I am?’ ‘I could keep you from sabotaging yourself. You just told me what could trigger you to lose control and I can look out for them. We could try to be a… a real team instead of just co-workers. If you allow me, of course.’ Gavin sat up and smirked at him. ‘A real team, huh?’ He tapped his fingers on the table and bopped his head a few times, mulling it over. ‘Could work. Don’t know why you’d offer that to the precinct’s asshole who continuously screams at you, but I’ll take it.’ Nines smiled, feeling his stress levels settle a bit. ‘Then consider this at least our fresh start as co-workers.’ Gavin chuckled and took the bottle to fill his glass anew.

‘As partners, dumbass.’

[heliosphoenix]

State of the Planet: 2020 Edition.

I know what you're thinking.

"How can you even think of doing one of these for this year? After everything that happened? You can't possibly be trying to do your little feel-good writeup!" 

Well...you're right. I can't. That's right, State of the Planet is cancelled.

I don't really have to explain why, do I? I have no words to describe this year and I know you don't want to hear them anyway. I understand your anger, your frustration, your sadness, everything you're feeling, I get it.

This wasn't the year you imagined and almost certainly not the one you wanted. Thanks for being there the entire way, and I'll see you next year.

Okay, I'm just kidding. I couldn't do that to you folks, I just wanted to get some more mileage out of a dead meme.

I first started this missive several years ago when I noticed that people were developing a tendency to condense the previous lap around the ol Sun into a series of terrible, horrible, no good very bad events at the expense of anything good that may have happened. I don't know why this was done, maybe as a ways to ensure that the coming year would have to be better by default.

Well...we all saw how that worked out for this year, didn't we?

As you all know I prefer to do things differently. I prefer to go out on a high note and remember all the good things that happened in the past year. If nothing else, I think it helps remind us that as much as we want to bemoan and be pessimistic about the state of our culture, society, civilization and even species, there's plenty of evidence to suggest we're not doing so bad after all.

And even thought it feels like this past year the world went out of its way to teach us some rather harsh lessons, I'm still determined to find something good that happened. So let's take a look back at some of the good things that happened in 2020:

A circumbinary planet was discovered at the TOI 1338 system.

Luxembourg became the first country to make it's public transportation free.

The Bhadla Solar Park became the largest solar park in the world.

The BepiColumbo space probe departed for Venus, en route to an arrival at Mercury in 2025.

A fast radio burst was detected from a Magnetar in the Milky Way, the first time such an event has been detected in the Galaxy.

A team of British and Kenyan scientists discovered a microbe that can block mosquitos from transmitting malaria.

A black hole was discovered in the QV Telescopii system, at 1120 light years away it is the closest known black hole to Earth.

A 425 million year old fossil of a millipede was discovered in Scotland, one of the oldest fossils ever found.

SpaceX launched their Dragon 2 spacecraft on its first crewed missions, the first astronauts to launch from US soil since 2011.

The Perseverance rover was launched to Mars and is expected to touch down in February.

The Barakah nuclear power plant in the UAE became the first operational nuclear power plant in the Arab states.

Wild polio was eradicated from the continent of Africa.

Skeletons of 31 prehistoric animals, including 200 mammoths, were found at a construction site in Mexico City, it was the largest finding of mammoth bones ever.

The 5.37 mile La Linea highway tunnel was opened in Colombia, it's the largest road tunnel in South America.

Kosovo, Serbia, Sudan and Bahrain all decided to normalize their relations with Israel.

Phosphine, a strong predictor of microbiological life, was discovered in the atmosphere of Venus.

Preserved remains of a cave bear were discovered in Siberia.

A 1634 edition of Shakespeare's final play, The Two Noble Kingsman, was discovered at the Royal Scots College's library in Spain.

The OSIRIS-REx spacecraft landed on the asteroid Bennu and collected samples for return to Earth in 2023.

The Falkland Islands were declared free of land mines.

Molecular water was detected near Clavius crater on the Moon. 

An AI algorithm called AlphaFold was able to figure out the process of Protein Folding. 

The UN commission on Narcotic Drugs removed cannabis from its list of dangerous drugs.

The EU committed themselves to reducing greenhouse emissions by 55% over the next decade.

A Great Conjunction between Jupiter and Saturn occurred, the closest one seen in the night sky since 1226.

Comet NEOWISE passed by the Earth and was the brightest comet in the night sky since Hale-Bopp in 1997.

Among Us became one of the most popular games in the world.

Half Life: Alyx was released, the first Half Life game in 13 years (FINALLY).

Joe Biden was elected as the 46th President of the United States.

Remember all that? Good. Because that's where I'm at.

You, dear reader, are in the future. Perhaps you're reading this in the final hours of 2020, or the first hours of 2021. Or maybe so much time has passed that both those years are now confined to the history books.

Perhaps everything I listed above is not enough to overcome all the bad things that happened this year, and that's a fair assessment. Maybe at the end of the day there's nothing that can overshadow the fact that someone in China who ate the wrong bat resulted in the entire world coming to a stop. If that's your feeling, then I understand completely.

But let the record show that those things did happen. In a year full of chaos and uncertainty and anxiety and dread, there were still moments where we could objectively punch our fists in the air and say "yes!" Even if only for a moment.

So now comes the part where I have to take all the things that we just went through and sum it up in a single word. Usually I don't think about this until the day of, but this time I've actually known for months what I was going to say:

The word is...Goodbye.

It sounds both strange and appropriate at the same time, doesn't it? As we close out this year, as well as this decade (reminder that 2021 is the real start of the next decade) we can look back and realize we've had many experiences. Both positive and negative. Hopefully they were mostly positive, even during this year.

But there is at least one experience we've all shared together, especially in times like these: saying goodbye.

I will confess to you all that I have a hard time saying goodbye. Hell, I don't even like the word. Whenever I end a conversation, I always use some variant of "see you later", since, to me at least, "goodbye" just sounds so final. Though with that said, I will also admit there's some people in this world that I had no problem saying goodbye to, and I don't mean "till we meet again", I mean "get lost." And I'd be lying if I said there weren't some people who felt the same about me, but I digress.

In the last episode of his show, Red Green delivered a monologue about saying goodbye. A monologue that I am now shamelessly ripping off for your reading pleasure. Not just because it's a way to get this done quickly, but because I think what he said is very true.

Red says that when it comes to your good friends and your family, you never really have to say goodbye. Why? Because they're always in your mind. And whenever you think about them, you're together again. I can tell you from experience that works rather well, even when it involves people that I don't want to think about. But even in that instance, where our last interaction was a negative one, I can't help but think back to all the good times we had together, and for a moment I reminisce. It's nice when it happens.

We've all heard the phrase "nothing lasts forever" and we tend to dismiss it as a cliché. But we're still constantly confronted with that reality, even if we never realize it. As Al Pacino said in Any Given Sunday; "When you get old in life, things get taken from you. That's a part of life."  

We've all lost things in our lives, and I just don't mean toys that have been sold or people that we love who are no longer on this mortal coil. I'm referring to the moments in our lives where we're forced to accept that our circumstances have permanently changed, and that the way things were can no longer be the way things are. This is why you shouldn't be having kids when you're in your 70's, and no one over the age of 50 should be naked in public.

On a more personal note, this year I got that feeling once again. It's not just because I'm most likely leaving one job behind for another job, but there were things in my personal life that shifted so dramatically that I knew things could never be the same again. And seeing as how, for the most part, I liked how things were, I'd be lying if I said that this change didn't cause me some distress.

But that's all a part of growing up, isn't it? As much as I may cringe about reaching 30 years of life on this Earth, I accept it all the same. Because, if nothing else, it's a reminder that I need to keep moving forward. Is it sad that the good ol days are now just memories and dreams? You're damn right it is. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing, because even if they're not what's happening now, they still did happen. And who knows? Perhaps the days to come will be just as good, if not better. In my opinion, that's something to look forward to.

And the same is true for all of us: if we want to live a happy fulfilling life, we have to keep moving forward. We can reminisce about all the fun we've had in days gone by, but it's just as important to be ready for the days yet to come.

I think that's why New Year's is such a poignant holiday for all of us. It's a tacit acknowledgement that we have to say goodbye to the old, so we can say hello to the new.

And at the risk of making this entry so long that by the time you're finished it will be 2022, I'd like to do that now.

To all the people that have been with me since my early days, thanks so much for all that you've done. I appreciate you sticking it out with me this far and I hope you'll continue to do so for many years to come.

To all the people that I've met recently and have decided to join me on this ride, welcome aboard. We're glad you could make it and we hope you'll stay a while as well.

And finally, to all the people that are no longer here, whether they've merely left my social circle or left this mortal coil altogether, all I can say is that we've had a great run. Whatever our reasons for parting are irrelevant now and I wish you nothing but good fortune in whatever it is you decide to do. Perhaps, God willing, our paths will cross again some day. But even if they don't, I hope that every so often we'll think about each other and smile a bit.

And now I'd like to close with something different. Usually I ask you to comment below with something good that happened to you this year. You're more than welcome to do that. But if you're looking for a change of pace, may I suggest that you close out your 2020 (or open your 2021) by listening to this song from the great Ashleigh Ball and Michelle Creber (yes I know many of you are hoping to leave the Miniature Equines in the past, but I'm hoping you'll permit them one last indulgence).

https://youtu.be/XjkPH6sZM_o 

This is the song that inspired me to write this missive (along with the aforementioned Red Green) and as you're listening, I want you to think about all of those you said goodbye to this past decade. Think about all the fond memories you had together and give yourself a smile as the clock strikes midnight. Even if they're not with us today, we still have all the memories of them that no one can take from us, no matter what happens to the world.

And now the time has come for me to end this missive. Let the record show that this was my final word on 2020 as well as my expressed hope for charity, kindness and goodwill to flourish throughout the world in the years to come.

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends

.And 2021 shall restore amends.

[drjackandmissjo]

firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 2 --- previous chapter --- next chapter

Harry Potter fic Masterlist

Set in the course of his Sixth Year, this story follows Slytherin’s finest, Blaise Zabini, as he navigates classes and friendships and Death Eaters and a certain idiot plant-head Gryffindor.

'Dittany is a powerful healing herb and restorative and may be eaten raw to cure shallow wounds.'

Blaise had read that same sentence for the 24th time. Had counted each time his eyes went up on the page towards the words that were now permanently marked in his memory, yet so far out of his grasp. It wasn't that 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' was a boring book. To someone truly passionate about the subject it might actually be quite enjoyable, but it was a textbook and textbooks are not supposed to be entertaining. Unless you were a freak as Granger, but her distorted mentality was not his to judge.

Sighing, he rested his head on the table he was studying on, careful not to make too much noise. Madam Pince and her fine hearing were simply awful to anyone who merely breathed too loudly in the library. "One more time and if I can't do it then I'll try again later after dinner" he told himself, on the verge of despair.

He simply couldn't understand. Charms came easy to him, even Potions with Snape wasn't that hard to follow, even if he was a mess at teaching it: brilliant man and head of the house, but all over the place and really, really terrible at sharing knowledge. Even in his current new position as Defence Against the Dark Arts, he wasn't that great, and that was the job he had lusted after, for years.

But flowers and herbs, those were is Achilles's heel. The worst part was that it seemed to come naturally to Bloody Longbottom.

Perfect asshole with his neat notes at the margins of his books and his terrible grasp of changing shit from their original form, but despite all that was better than a few of his housemates and studied hard to maintain his acceptable level in Transfiguration. Bloody moron who simply could understand what Professor Sprout meant to say even before she said it, who had the best grades in Herbology, who laughed tilting his head backwards whenever Saint Potter or one of his friends made a joke that was particularly funny, who seemed to be everywhere since their first Transfiguration lecture together.

Blaise was so screwed.

He had now begun to have a hard time concentrating during the class he seated with the Gryffindor, his mind wandering to the bloody fingers tapping lightly over the desk as he scrunched his nose up in concentration.

He was so bloody screwed.

'Rule number eight, if you can't get someone out of your head, make sure you're stuck in theirs also.'

But it wasn't that easy, was it? For one, despite being 100% positive of his sexuality, he hadn't told anyone but his mother, who was really supportive and immediately shared all her rules for landing a hot and rich husband. At that time he had laughed, almost uncomfortable, but now he was sure her set of rules was going to be a lifesaver, and not only when boys were concerned.

Second, he did not know whether or not Longbottom shared his likings and had absolutely no way of figuring it out. Sure, he had gone to the Yule Ball two years prior with the Female Weasley and hang out now with Loony Lovegood and the rest of the moronic Gryffindors, but there was nothing that betrayed his heart's true desires. He had no one in their circle to ask to, and was pretty sure that cute, shy, jacked, nervous and downright hot Longbottom, "damn Salazar why even his surname had to have such a sexual innuendo?", wasn't out or anything. Maybe he was still figuring it all out?

Groaning, he rose up to his feet, unable to concentrate on fucking dittany without losing his mind for one second more. Bloody Longbottom with his very nice ass made his way into his mind and suddenly Blaise's pants felt way too tight for his own comfort and he had to adjust his robe. He closed roughly his book, placing it in his bag alongside his notebook and pens and highlighters, avoiding Madam Pince's burning glare at the unwanted noise.

He began to quickly make his way towards the Great Hall, wondering what would be there for dinner and completely lost in thought. In the back of his mind, he could feel his mother's voice telling him 'Rule number twelve, always be conscious of your surroundings', but his brain couldn't stop wandering, his body relying only on muscle memory to not walk into walls.

Unfortunately, muscle memory wasn't that reliable when taking into account other moving people and objects. Which was why he had ended on the floor, landing on his ass and soundly cursing whoever was the bloody "pezzo di merda di doxy" that still hadn't learnt how to walk.

His mother was always controlled and poised and he had never heard a bad word coming from her red painted lips, but his paternal grandparents were a different kind of people. His grandfather’s favourite word was, alongside of other Italian curses, a very pointed minchia. He used it almost on each sentence, changing the intonation to accommodate a different meaning. Most of the time he added to the equation a variety of gestures that, given the situation, assumed a rather crude sense.

His Nonna was slightly more PG, preferred not to use certain words, especially in front of Blaise, but she still told her husband to fuck himself in whichever language she was thinking at the moment and taught him her fair share of Ethiopian hexes.

"You came onto me, genius" the idiot that had clearly gone into him said, rather angrily sounding.  "Ma porca di quella puttana" Blaise thought, of course his rotten luck would make him crash into the long legged Gryffindor he was just daydreaming of.

Remembering who he was and finally stopping acting like a ridiculous hormonal dork, he rose from the floor, trying to look menacing despite being the shorter one in this debate. "No, good sir, you appeared out of nowhere" he said, sounding sturdier and surer than he'd thought. He was rather proud of his impeccable composure, until the other boy spoke with a sly smirk on his lips, "Haven't taken my apparition exam yet so can't just do that."

Blaise's brain stopped working immediately. Deep down he knew that anyone, even someone as dull and bland as a Gryffindor, could surprise him, and so far the dumb dork had surpassed all his expectations, excluding the ones on Transfiguration. But he simply couldn't picture sweet, shy, formerly chubby, Schlongbottom as someone who knew how to talk back, especially with such an authoritative tone. The mere thought did funny things to his body.

Questions began to swim all around his mind: Was this real or a hallucination caused by his very recent fall? Since when did this bloody plant-head even know sarcasm? How was it possible for someone to become even more attractive?

Did Blaise mention that he was so fucking screwed?

"What, cat got your tongue?" Longbottom asked smugly, visibly pleased with himself.

In that moment Blaise swore off any possible feeling that wasn't related to hatred or anger towards the idiot in front of him. "I don't reply to morons such as yourself" he said, mustering a casual and bored tone he didn't know he had. "Bloody superb" he thought proudly as he watched the Gryffindor's gaze harden.

He suddenly didn't enjoy the turn their conversation had taken.

Longbottom then briskly shoved his forgotten Herbology textbook, "when did he even picked it up?", and stormed off to the other side of the empty corridor, towards the glasshouse, without uttering a single word.

"Great Hall's on the other side, idiota" he yelled at his slowly stepping away back, "You're gonna be late for dinner." Blaise couldn't care less, of course, but the impulsive part of his brain wanted to get the Gryffindor's attention for a little bit longer.

Longbottom stopped dead on his track, turning sideways to look back at Blaise and giving him the perfect side view of his backside, as well as of his front. "Ammazza oh." was the only thought that filled his mind before registering that the other boy was speaking: “Not that's any concern of yours, but I gotta get some Baneberry for my toad."

He was speechless. It was explicitly forbidden to take even the most innocuous weed from the glasshouses and classes, even during lectures to study them afterwards, yet this bloody Gryffindor marched towards the door as if he owned the place. He knew Longbottom had the best grades and was clearly their Professor's favourite since he fainted in excitement on their second year at their first class, but damn.

Astonished, he couldn't stop himself from blunting possibly the dumbest sentence ever: “But Professor Sprouts doesn't let us take any of her plants outside our designated scheduled time!"

The other boy had the audacity to grin, viciously and borderline dangerously and porca miseria it was getting hotter under his robe by the second. "Maybe to the rest of this school" Longbottom said, his shoulders squared and posture tense, "But I'm her assistant and have her blessings to do whatever the hell I want in any of the greenhouses, however dangerous it might be. So taking an innocuous plant for my toad isn't gonna get me expelled before I can say 'Quidditch'"

Blaise did definitely misread the look the Gryffindor gave him, thinking it hinted something while it was only meant as a superiority glance, and he was definitely thinking with his dick now.

Longbottom merely turned around, unbothered by his silence, and walked forward towards the glasshouse for the 2nd year, unaware that Blaise was still rooted on his spot, trying to regain his footing and willing his body to direct the blood back into his legs, failing miserably.

He was in such deep shit it would almost be laughable.

BONUS

When Neville turns around all he can think is either "Shitshitshitshit" and "Damn he's hot but I’m Str8. I think, but damn I'd tap that."

Glossary:

"Pezzo di merda di doxy" means 'piece of doxy shit' "Minchia" is a commonly used curse word, especially in southern Italy; it literally can mean both penis or vagina, depending on where you're from, but most commonly is referred to the female genital; it is typically used in the same way as the English 'fuck' to curse "Nonna" is Grandmother "Ma porca di quella puttana" again, another curse; literally is 'that fucking bitch' or something along those lines, but here it is used as an expression of disbelief, like 'you gotta be kidding me' "Idiota" is idiot "Ammazza oh", literally "Kill it oh", is the equal of a long whistle, mostly of approval "Porca miseria" is "that rotten luck", and is used to express discomfort or as the English 'holy shit'

I'm sorry for all those curse words! I deeply apologize!

Bonus: When Neville turns around all he can think is either "Shitshitshitshit" and "Damn he's hot but I’m Str8. I think, but damn I'd tap that."

[sailorsolar12]

A Ball??? - Kol Mikaelson x OC

Hey guys. I am so sorry for vanishing. I have just been so busy with work, going to the gym, and trying to lose weight so I am able to take my ASVAB for the Air Force. Yes, I am in the process of trying to get into the military. Don’t worry I won’t forget about you guys. BTW I am going to be posting quite a few things tonight......just fyi be ready for word vomit from me.

A Ball?? Taglist:

@princesslexxi1 @deamlanderwynter @deafeningdreamlandmonger

Permanent Taglist:

@silvermoonfox @lolabean1998

Previous Parts:

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Warnings: Cursing, Elena bashing, Some violence

Kol gazed at her for a moment. “Would you like to play?” he asked motioning to the empty pool table not too far behind Lili.

Lili glanced at the table and smirked confidently. “Be prepared to lose,” she stated as she went to the table and began to set up the game. She grabbed some chalk and chalked the tip of her pool stick before handing the chalk to Kol. “Do you wanna break or shall I?”

Kol rose an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Ladies first.”

She smiled. “Such a gentleman,” she answered and walked around the table bending down slightly lining up her pool stick and shot the cue ball. The cue ball sped forward and dispersed the others two stripes balls pocketing almost immediately. She glanced up at Kol and rose an eyebrow showing she wasn’t done. Lili walked around the table again to where the cue ball had stopped and lined up another shot for the stripes. Just before she took her shot, she felt Kol right behind her. The brunette tried her best to ignore just how close he was, but Lili knew it was a losing battle. She took a deep breath and took her shot, but instead of making her own in…she made a solid one. The 16-year-old narrowed her eyes as she turned to face Kol who was playing innocent. “Don’t pull that look with-“ She went wide eyed seeing Alaric behind them and pushed Kol out of the way just as Alaric pushed the dagger forward. Instead of going into Kol’s chest, the dagger landed in Lili’s causing a loud gasp of pain to come from her and a scream of rage to come from Kol. Lili looked at Alaric as a couple of tears escaped while her skin turned grey just like Kol’s. “Why?” she whispered softly before collapsing dead in Alaric’s arms.

Kol watched in horror as Lili collapsed in Alaric’s arms dessicated and dead from the dagger. He tried to speak as he himself collapsed onto the ground as his vision went dark.

Alaric cursed and looked up paling seeing Klaus storm into the Grill. He did not anticipate for Lili to be linked to the Originals. However, if she was linked to the Originals, then that meant most likely Rebekah wasn’t linked to them. Therefore, Elena was still in danger. Alaric grunted in pain as he was thrown back from Lili and Kol. The high school teacher watched as Klaus removed the dagger from Lili’s chest. Kol quickly started to come back to life, but Alaric knew that Lili would take longer as she hadn’t been killed that way before.

Kol growled in rage as he sped with Alaric outside pinning the history teacher against the wall by his throat. The Original wanted to do more than just rip the man apart. He wanted to slaughter everyone in this town, hell this entire damn state. He leaned close to Alaric and smirked darkly. “Tell me, do you take joy in now knowing that if you kill us...you kill Lili,” he murmured lowly to Alaric as black veins became visible on Kol’s face. He looked at his older brother as Elijah pulled Kol away from Alaric. “What?!” he snapped at the suit wearing Original.

“Take Lili home. Make sure she is comfortable. Rebekah is still with the Doppelgänger, and Lili would want you there when she awakens. Niklaus and I will handle Mother and Finn,” Elijah ordered.

Kol froze feeling his heart clench for the first time in 1000 years. He was feeling something for the first time in 1000 years. He had spent centuries with his switch flipped, but now, because of one human girl, his emotions were surfacing in a way he had never thought would happen. There was no possible way he could feel anything for anyone. “Kill them both. I no longer care what happens to them,” he said darkly and took Lili from Klaus’ arms vanishing to the mansion to make sure she was comfortable when she awoke. He gently laid her onto her bed and slowly began to take off her jacket and her clothes putting her into something more comfortable. He knew he would probably get hit when she woke up, but he didn’t care right now. All he wanted to do was make sure she was safe. He inhaled deeply still feeling rather angry. The original knew deep down that Klaus would probably harm him if he drank a few of the maids, but he needed to kill something. He smirked darkly and compelled three of the maids that were inside the house while taking his time draining and disposing of their bodies.

He wasn’t too far into the trees when he heard Lili’s heartbeat start up again followed by a loud gasp not too long later. He wiped most of the blood off of his chin and sped inside and into her room. He looked at her in relief and took her into his arms. “I was so worried about you Lili,” he murmured softly as he held her.

Lili blinked rapidly and suddenly blushed at the contact. She slowly wrapped her arms around Kol’s torso and returned the hug. She was rather shocked he was here with her. That was when she noticed she wasn’t in her outfit from before. The 16-year-old narrowed her eyes and pulled away from the Original. “Kol Mikaelson….your life depends on your answer….did you or did you not change my clothes?” She watched as Kol tensed and got a snarky look on his face that made him look all the more guilty. “Kol!!!” Lili yelled embarrassed. Lili looked away curling up slightly rather flustered that the object of her growing affections was the one to change her clothes.

She shook her head and felt around for her phone before seeing it on the nightstand right next to her bed. She gave a heavy sigh as she turned on the device dreading what she was going to see. She went wide and lightly tossed her phone on the bed as it vibrated rapidly from the sheer amount of messages that she had gotten during the time her phone was off. She gave a playful glare as Kol chuckled at her reaction. “Oh shut up.” She swallowed thickly unlocking her phone and looking at Elena’s messages first.

Then she went to look at Bonnie’s and smiled softly at the fact Bonnie was able to save her mom.

She made a face seeing a rather angry text from her twin….to which she responded to.

One thing that she also did not understand was why Kol had willingly stayed behind and not confront his eldest brother and mother just to make sure she was fine. She furrowed her brow looking at the Original. “Kol, can I ask you something?” she murmured softly looking back down at her hands. “Why did you stay with me? I mean why me? Why not just leave me and go with Nik and Elijah to confront Finn and Esther? How did you even know I would wake up from getting daggered? I am not really anything special. I’m just the younger sister of the Doppelgänger. I’m not very pretty or popular for that matter. Rebekah told me about how you typically prefer witches, but I am simply human. I-” Her eyes widened as she Kol lifted her head and she felt pressure on her lips. Her mind went blank, and her body froze. Kol Mikaelson was kissing her. The bloodiest and most violent of the Originals was kissing her a simple human. After a moment she felt him start to pull away, but Lili kissed him back as she brought up her hands to cradle his face while her eyes fluttered shut.

Kol gave a smile as he pulled away from Lili as he took her hands in his. His brown eyes held emotion...true emotion for the first time in 1000 years, as he gazed at the human beauty before him. Her makeup was slightly smudged and her hair was a mess, but he honestly didn’t care. He needed to get to know her. He needed to be around her. He furrowed his brow as a sudden memory from 600 years ago surfaced in his mind.

*Flashback*

Kol narrowed his eyes dangerously as he watched the witch before him perform a tracking spell before her eyes rolled back and she began to have a vision of some kind. The witch was thrashing and slightly convulsing as magic surrounded them in the small cottage. He hadn’t felt magic like this before, but he was curious at the same time as to why the witch was suddenly having a vision. He sped in front of the witch as she caught herself on the table before she fell to the floor. “What was that?” Kol demanded. He could see that that witch was wide eyed in both fear and confusion. “Well?! What was your vision about!?”

The witch looked up at him and spoke almost as if she was in a trance. “In time, your family will reunite. Esther will plot against you. SHE will stand between your destruction and your life. The fate of the Mikaelsons are sealed….they will not perish as long as SHE is alive.”

Kol took the witch by her throat. “Who is SHE?” the Original demanded from the witch.

“SHE is the key to your heart. The one thing you will truly love. The very thing that will make the Mikaelsons a family again,” the witch gasped out trying to breathe. “She is a Gilbert and a twin. Look for the Doppelgänger, and SHE will be there.” The witch began to cough as Kol dropped her onto the ground. She stopped him just as he turned to leave. “There is a warning with this vision!” she exclaimed causing the Original to pause. “The potency will make her dangerous if any are to cross her. Even you.” The witch let out a strangled cry as Kol sped back to her and ripped out her heart.

*End Flashback*

Kol sat back wide eyed in shock. He stared at Lili and tried to wrap his head around the last and final sentence the witch had spoken before he had killed her. His brown eyes seemed to brighten as he mentally went over what the witch said before leaning closer to Lili and placing a quick kiss on her lips causing the middle Gilbert’s heart to race and her cheeks to flush.

Lili blushed heavily and covered her flushed cheeks. “What was that for? You looked lost in a memory for a minute there.” She bit her lip slightly worried as she began to playing some of her loose hair.

Kol sat next to her on the large bed and leaned back against the headboard. “There was a witch….oh about 600 or so years ago. She was tracking down my brothers and Rebekah as I had left and gone off on my own for a while. In the middle of the spell, she had a vision….that spoke of you. Her exact words were, ‘SHE is the key to your heart. The one thing you will truly love. The very thing that will make the Mikaelsons a family again. She is a Gilbert and a twin. Look for the Doppelgänger, and SHE will be there.’ I didn’t understand what exactly she meant at the time, but now I do. However, the last words she spoke are the words that still confuse me.”

“What were the last words that she spoke of?” Lili asked curiously.

“‘The potency will make her dangerous if any are to cross her. Even you.’ I have asked multiple witches over the years, but even they don’t know.” Kol looked at Lili again and reached over taking her hand. “Lili, that witch….I don’t know how she knew, but I don’t want to stay away from you….for the first time in 1000 years someone is breaking down my walls. The very walls that I had been forced to build because of Nik and Rebekah and even Elijah, but it is also because of the fact that I felt very empty when I became a vampire. I had been a very powerful warlock, and when I was turned, I lost that connection to nature. It hurt to not be able to do any sort of magic-”

Lili gave Kol’s hand a squeeze as she turned to face him. She winced in slight pain. Her body hurt from when she was stabbed. The middle Gilbert held up her hand to stop Kol from speaking. “You do not need to explain yourself to me, Kol. Truth be told….you and your family and Jeremy are the only people who even remotely care. You guys are my family, and I don’t need anyone else in my life. However, I am now curious about what that witch had said. What the hell did she mean by ‘the potency’?”

Kol frowned as he tried to think about the words. “I have absolutely no clue,” he responded confused by the witch’s words.

[mrsjihyunkim]

A Witch’s Heart

                            Ch 10-- The Bonds of Our Blood

Jumin reveals his reasons for kissing MC which puts a wall between them. He then tells a secret that not even V knew about his best friend which leads to an origin story of witch hunters. With everything out in the open MC leaves to see an old friend while V tells Jumin of her painful past. 

"Bind." Jumin felt himself pulled to the wall and he couldn't move any part of his body. "How do you know about me? Are you a hunter?" V still reeling in shock didn't know what to do let alone say. MC held her wand at Jumin's throat and V saw that there was nothing but murderous intent radiating from her. "I won't ask again." The invisible bounds tightened around Jumin and his face twisted in pain. "The truth will set you free. Only lies will cause your demise."

"I'm not a hunter. I just needed to be sure that you were actually a witch." The bonds that held Jumin loosened and he took a deep breath. Adjusting his cufflinks again he looked between V and MC. "I suppose I should give an explanation now." V nodded still not able to find any words while MC remained on guard. It had been hundreds of years since someone had gotten the drop on her like that. It would take a good explanation for her to give him a sliver of trust after this. Jumin and V took seats at the table but MC stayed standing incase she needed to protect V. Noticing her stand off nature made Jumin feel a little guilty about his actions. "I assure you MC I mean no harm. I honestly only needed conformation of your magic and I knew that meant you had to get emotional." She knew that he was telling the truth but he still knew too much for her to trust him. When she made no move to sit down or relax V grabbed her hand.

"MC we need to at least hear him out. That was definitely a shock to see, but I've known Jumin my whole life and he wouldn't do anything like that without a good reason." His words were almost enough to cox her to sit now, but her brows knitted together to show she wouldn't budge.

"It better be a very damn good reason. Otherwise my magic will be the least of his worries." V knew exactly what she meant and it made him shiver. Suddenly worried for his best friend he looked to him with pleading eyes and hoped that there was a good reason. "Now what in seven hells are you doing here and how do you know I'm a witch?" Jumin took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eyes.

"I come from a line of witch hunters but they died away with my grandfather. He always told me stories of magic and let me many books and odd trinkets. Of course I also believed him to be senile because magic is just illogical. Then about two years ago Rika confided in me about being a witch. Apparently the crystal I used as a paper weight was some kind of magic object, which led her to believe that she could confide in me." Jumin pulled a small, round, pink crystal ball out of his jacket pocket and the ball instantly flew to MC. Her heart sank as soon as she held it. The carried the memory of a witch who had been killed by a hunter and he'd taken this as his trophy. "I take it by your reaction that it's more than a mere crystal." MC nodded.

"Crystals act somewhat like a memory bank. They soak up magic that's been imprinted with feelings and emotions. This one is heavy with pain. I can see her final moments as her life was taken away from her. All because she healed someone." Not able to stand the visions anymore MC placed the crystal on the counter. V moved to go comfort her but she held out her hand. "I'm alright." V frowned at her but sat back down. Then MC turned her attention back to Jumin. "So you knew about Rika. What all did she tell you?" Jumin's face turned sour as he recalled all the things he knew Rika had done.

"She didn't tell me much. It was more just her showing me what she could do and what she wanted to achieve." His brow frowned as he looked to V. "I tried to tell you about her time and time again V but she had you under some kind of magic that made you not only forget, but remain completely infatuated with her no matter what she did. I tried so hard to get through to you but nothing I did worked." Jumin bit his cheek remembering how useless he felt to help his friend during those times. MC could sense all of Jumin's emotions tangling up inside of him and she lowered her guard just a bit. When she did there was a noticeable change in the air and V smiled at MC as she took a seat at the table.

"I see. I always sensed something off about their relationship but I never saw the two of them together so I couldn't be sure." MC poundered this for a bit only to come back to it later. "That still begs the question of how you knew I was a witch though." She folded her hands over her wand and rested them on the table.

"I didn't really. All I had were suspicions that started not long before V's injuries. Rika said something about another witch trying to get close to V and it had her frantic. Seeing as how you're the only other woman V interacts with I thought of you. Then the night of V's injury, not only did you arrive quickly, you healed an injury that should of needed surgery. That same night you also compelled me to sleep and I couldn't wake up no matter how much I tried. My final clue came earlier today when I found you in my head trying to erase my memories of Rika. It felt like my memories were on fire but it stopped once you were gone. There was also this nagging feeling that you were hurt or something. So I came over here to see for myself and confront you on my theory." MC pinched her nose in annoyance. Everything made sense now and it was almost laughable. Her domestic life had dulled her senses so low that not only did she miss the presence of another witch but now a hunter decedent. She really was a special kind of idiot.

"Well that's puts so many things into perspective." When V gave her a curious look she rolled her eyes. "Since Jumin has hunter blood using on magic on him makes us connected. It's how they hunt witches. Also this means that Jumin caused the backlash during the spell earlier, not Yoosung. See hunter blood pretty much makes him immune to most magic. Unless the caster uses physical touch or is in close proximity. So when I tried to take his memories of Rika he pushed me and the magic out, causing a backlash." Finally understanding what she meant V nodded. He was still surprised by this secret Jumin had but he couldn't be angry. After all V had kept plenty from him, even if in vain.

"Speaking of, why were you trying to erase Rika?" It then dawned on them that Jumin knew nothing of what happened last night. V looked to MC and she nodded, letting him know that he should be the one to explain.

"Well last night Rika abducted Saeran, and drugged him with some kind of potion or something." A brief flash of panic came across Jumin's face. "He's alright now. MC and Saeyoung saved him. However after that MC went to go stop Rika permanently. Long story short MC trapped Rika inside of a stone that acts like an alternate universe. Then,"

"You decided to erase her from everyone memories rather than explain about magic?" Jumin finished for V while looking at MC. When she nodded Jumin leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Granted he was still fairly new to the idea of magic but he could imagine that would take an incredible power. V could read Jumin's thoughts on his face and couldn't help but smile.

"I know it still baffles me that she pulled it off. Even if only barley." Jumin raised an eyebrow at V's last sentence. "She almost killed herself in the process of doing it." V frowned at the memory and glanced at MC. Jumin looked between the two and did notice that something was different between them.

"I see. So MC just what kind of witch are you?" MC only laughed at his question. Jumin always had been suspicious of her age, so she might as well tell him.

"I'm an old one. Over four hundred years to be precise." Jumin couldn't hide his shock even if he wanted to and V only laughed.

"I know. I'm still having a hard time believing it. Apparently I have a thing for older women." MC rolled her eyes and Jumin raised an eyebrow. Seeing his friends curiosity rising V began to explain. "Rika was apparently a hundred years old." Jumin's eyes widened again and MC nodded to confirm. He cleared his throat and went to address MC.

"MC I know that this is your home but would you mind if I talked with V in private for a moment? This is a lot more information than I expected." MC's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "If you still don't trust me then V and I can always talk outside the house." Jumin smiled as if knowing very well that she didn't like that idea any better. Letting out a defeated sigh MC stood up.

"No it's alright. I should cleanse the crystal you brought anyway, the house is starting to smell." She picked up the crystal and paused at the door. "Faust dear do keep an eye on things for me please." The snake popped out of her hiding place in V's shirt. Squeeze?  "If that's what you need to do. I'll be in my room." Seeing the shock on Jumin's face made MC feel satisfied before she headed toward her bedroom. Once they heard the door close V let out a gentle laugh and petted Faust.

"Don't worry she's a good snake." Seeing his best friend with a snake wrapped around him was something that Jumin never thought he'd see.

"I thought you were afraid of snakes?" V nodded and Jumin was even more confused.

"Oh no I am but I guess I don't think of Faust as a snake. She's definitely a friend and she feels familiar to me." He let out another soft chuckle. "I suppose that's why they call them familiars." Jumin only nodded as he watched the snake coil up on the table in front of V, the red eyes never leaving him. "Faust this is Jumin, my childhood friend." The snake tilted her head as if studying Jumin. Hunter. V frowned at Faust's words knowing that it meant she didn't trust Jumin either.

"What did she say?" Jumin was both warry and full of curiosity. Even though he had seen magic with his own two eyes there was still so much he didn't understand. Especially about his family history.

"She called you a hunter. I suppose she doesn't trust you either." V let out a sigh and Jumin frowned. He understood MC not trusting him after the stunt he pulled but what did this snake know.

"I honestly don't even know what that means. All I know is that hunters kill witches but I have no desire to do any of that. You know that right?" V nodded and smiled at him. This made Jumin feel much more at ease. "Good. Maybe you can convince MC of that. I feel like she would of killed me on sight if you hadn't been here." V wanted to deny it but he knew better than anyone how much MC hated hunters. Not to mention she wasn't exactly hiding the murderous feeling she was projecting earlier.

"It's not that she doesn't trust you. It's just that I don't think she's ever had a good experience with a hunter. Just give her time and she'll see you mean no harm." V's smile made Jumin hope he was right, but for now it was a moot point.

"Well that aside how are you feeling? You look better than I've seen you look in years." Jumin's words had caught V by surprise and he blushed a little, not sure what to do.

"I honestly feel better than I've felt in years. I'm not blaming myself as much as I used to and I feel like I actually have energy." Jumin seemed to be thinking. He figured this must be due to not being under Rika's magic but he wasn't sure. However another concern weighed on Jumin's mind. V seemed too ok with everything that had happened and it didn't seem right.

"Ok allow me another question." When V nodded Jumin continued. "Are you really in love with MC? I mean I always suspected that you were but I was never sure with Rika in the picture." V's cheeks had turned pink at Jumin's question and he realized that he had never voiced his feelings about MC to anyone. Had he really been that obvious the whole time? Thinking back though he felt like the feelings were always there but that they constantly got buried by something.

"Am I really that obvious?" Jumin only shrugged and tugged at his neck tie.

"Yes and no I suppose. It's obvious that you care about her a lot but no one can be too sure. For the longest time we all thought that you were happy with Rika and it was just a friendship. Then things took a turn at some point. I think spending so much time with MC was weakening Rika's hold on you, because you started to talk about her more. I think it was then that everyone began to suspect. Zen even went so far one time as to ask if you were cheating on Rika with MC." Jumin seemed completely bored with the whole notion but V was beyond shocked. Maybe his love with Rika had all been a lie but he never would of cheated. Seeing his friends shock made Jumin concerned. "Do you not remember this? It was in a chat room with Zen, Assistant Kang, you, and myself." V shook his head and clenched his fist. A lot of his memories were so hazy and he hated it. The only clear ones were of his childhood and recent ones with MC and the twins.

"No. A lot of my memories from the past are hazy. Especially when they involve Rika. Like everything is right there on the tip of my tongue but I can't give any details. Do you think it's because of Rika's magic?" Jumin only shrugged and V sighed. He hated that more questions had appeared right after everything seemed to have ended. "It seems we both have questions but no answers." Jumin nodded and he knew where V was going with this.

"And you want to ask MC if she has any answers?" V nodded and Jumin smiled at their mutual understanding. It had been so long since they had sat down and talked like this. Jumin felt foolish for worrying about their bond in the first place. V stood up from the table about to go get MC but she had already turned the corner into the room.

"Oh I was just coming to get you." She looked tired and V grew concerned. "Is everything ok?" Blinking a little bit MC remembered the current situation.

"Mmmhmm. Just sleepy. Are you two finished talking now?" V nodded and MC moved to the counter to make some tea. They watched as she didn't even use the stove but magic to heat the water. Things floated around the kitchen as MC didn't even use her hands to put sugar or cream in it. She then walked over to the table with the cup of tea following behind her. Only when she sat down at the table did she actually use her hand to bring the tea up to her lips. When the surprise from Jumin and V registered with her she raised an eyebrow. "What? You both know about magic so there's no point in hiding it. Not to mention I'm too tired to do such tedious things." V frowned at her and she rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look. It hasn't even been twenty four hours since I've come back. I was dead long enough for rigormortis to set in. So while I'm fine my body is still adjusting. No need to fuss." V let out a sigh and sat back down at the table.

"You said that you were dead. How is it that you're here now?" MC put her hands together and when she pulled them apart the word magic in rainbow letters appeared between them. Jumin frowned at her answer and realized that she wasn't going to answer him. "Do you really not trust me because of who my ancestors were?" MC sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"In a way yes. I trust you as a person but I don't trust your blood. See hunter blood has a way of acting on it's own. I've known plenty of people with the blood who don't want to be hunters but they give into it. It's like werewolves and vampires. Vampires just want to be left alone but werewolves go out of their way to kill them. All because of a love story hundreds of years ago." This now had both the men's interests.

"A love story? What does that mean?" For the first time in two years Jumin felt like he was actually close to answers. His brain almost craved them just to make sense of this new side of him. "MC please tell me what you know. I can't stand not knowing who I am anymore." The words barely came out of his mouth and V was shocked. He'd never seen Jumin sound so vulnerable and he looked to MC, almost pleading. Letting out a sigh she downed her tea. A plate of dango appeared on the table as well as some other treats, and MC popped one in her mouth before speaking.

"It's actually thousands not hundreds but then again dates mean nothing to me." Popping another skewer of dango in her mouth she began to recall the story. "Apparently there was a man named Greyson, who had fallen in love with the local beauty, named Lucy. He tried everything to win her affection but she didn't swing his way. In fact she was already in a secret relationship with a handmade, Kisa, from the palace. Well Greyson discovered them during a surprise visit to the Lucy's house. He went into a rage and tried to kill the two. They escaped into the woods where Kisa revealed that she was actually a witch. After that day Greyson continued to hunt them and made sure that his kin would too. That was the start of the hunters story and they're actually fucking proud of it." She didn't bother to hide the hate in her voice and Jumin could understand it now.

"So what does that mean about me then?" Jumin really couldn't see himself killing anyone but he felt like ignoring this issue was the wrong choice. When he saw MC shrug he frowned.

"I honestly don't know. I've never let a hunter live long enough to talk." His eyes widened at her words and she sighed. "That doesn't mean I was going to just kill you. I can sense that you're different and that's part of the reason I let you explain yourself. Obviously though the twins and V stayed my hand too. They've made me soft." Jumin was still surprised by how casual she sounded about all of this, but it also made him insanely curious. He had seen first hand how caring she was and to hear her talk about killing so casually was different.

"You don't have to lie. I don't doubt that you would of killed me if my reasons wasn't satisfactory. It was a risk that I knew I was taking. You really should give me more credit though MC. I already knew that you were nothing like what it says in my grandfather's books. Although it wouldn't surprise me if you're the force of nature he talks about in them." MC raised an eyebrow. For the first Jumin actually had peaked her curiosity.

"You still want me to trust you Jumin?" He nodded and MC smiled. "Then will you let me borrow everything your grandfather had on the hunters?" Jumin was curious as to why she wanted them but he saw no reason to object.

"I suppose. I could have someone bring them over here within an hour or so." He went to pull out his phone but MC shook her head.

"No need just give me your hand." The request seemed odd but he listened. "Pay attention V this is a useful spell." V nodded and watched as Jumin's hand rested MC's. She cleared away all the treats on the table except for the plate of half finished dango. "Now Jumin, close your eyes and picture everything you have regarding the hunters. Just think about it clearly in your mind." He did as he was told and thought of the boxes of books and trinkets that his grandfather had left him. In his mind he went through the items one by one. V watched in awe as items began to pile on the table. He could feel MC's magic connecting her to Jumin and that must be what was helping her materialize the items. "Is that everything Jumin?"

"Yes. Other than the crystal I brought with me that's everything I have." Satisfied with his answer she ended the connection and Jumin found his body felt somewhat fuzzy. Like there had just been a current running through it. When he looked at the table his jaw dropped in shock. There on the table sat every item he had pictured in his mind. "Amazing. How did you do it? Can you tell me?" MC was taken aback a bit by the compliment. Jumin's natural curiosity seemed to be what made him different from other hunters but she could only wonder how long that would last. Instead of answering him she looked to V to see if he knew. His amazed face was beyond cute as she found herself staring.

"I've read about these spells. It's like a type of psychometry but instead of just seeing the items you teleport them. Is that right?" MC smiled at him and nodded.

"How did you know that V?" Jumin didn't bother to hide his surprise. V only chuckled and pulled out the book MC gave him to read.

"MC gave me this book to read so that I could understand the basics of magic. It's actually quite fascinating. Apparently everyone is capable of magic since it stems from nature but it requires total acceptance. There's also some basic spells in here that I wish to try." V gave a hopeful glance at MC but she didn't look up from the book she was flipping through.

"Soon dear. We've barely had a moment to breath with everything going on. Magic takes patience above all else." Jumin began to think and while he was various curious about magic he didn't know if it would benefit him.

"Are you planning to learn magic V?" When asked the question V hesitated still but less than he had earlier.

"I'd like to but it's up to MC to teach me. I get the feeling she doesn't want me to learn." MC only shrugged thumbing through another book.

"I just don't want you to have any regret. When you can answer without hesitation then I'll teach you. Hesitating with magic is like pouring gasoline over a fire. It's going to blow up in your face." She moved onto the next book and Jumin's curiosity had moved with her.

"MC what exactly are you looking for?" This time she actually looked up from the book and at the pair.

"Rika said something about having a coven. So I'm seeing if there are any clues in here that could give me any information. As far as I knew this area had been dead of witch activity for at least two hundred years. But if there are other witches in the area then I need to be ready. Especially if any of them practice dark magic like Rika." She looked composed as she talked but V could see the worry in her eyes.

"What will you do if you find them?" V's question stemmed from worry. He had seen MC fight Rika and how much it took out of her. If she had to that again, and against more than one person, V was worried she might not get so lucky this time. When MC only shrugged it gave him a slight relief. It seemed she didn't plan on using that spell again which was good.

"I'm not sure honestly. It depends on if they are a threat." Jumin was now curious by what she would do if they were.

"And if they are?" His question hung in the air for a moment and V was surprised by how forward his question was. It was almost like he wanted her to say the obvious idea they both shared. MC looked at Jumin and a steely resolve in her eyes.

"Then I keep my family and RFA safe. No matter what." Both V and Jumin seemed surprised that the RFA was included in her answer. "What?" She set the book down and looked between them.

"It's just that you've never expressed a desire to protect the RFA before." Jumin nodded to agree with V and MC sighed.

"Of course I protect the RFA. I've been doing it since it was founded." V's jaw literally dropped and MC only smiled.

"What? Did you honestly think I just let things be when the twins were involved? They love the RFA more than anything so I've always kept a watchful eye to make sure nothing happened to anyone." V let out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. This woman just kept surprising him and he loved it.

"Exactly how did you help?" The question sounded more suspicious than he meant it but MC didn't take it personal. In fact it made her laugh

"More like how didn't I. I've healed Zen's injuries, cast focus spells on Yoosung to keep his grades up, and don't even get me started on poor Jaehee." Jumin raised an eyebrow not sure what sure what she meant. "That poor girl is so overworked that her blood is mostly energy potions. Hells the only reason she sleeps is because Alonzo planted a sleeping pouch in her home. Seriously Jumin give her a vacation or something." He frowned at her suggestion and was about to counter her when V started laughing. They both looked at him like he had gone insane but V only continued to laugh.

"Sorry it's just that all the strange traits in the RFA suddenly make sense. Zen's monster healing factor, Yoosung somehow managing to pass tests, and Jaehee's ability to not drown in work. It was all you." He grabbed her hand and she blushed at the sudden affection. "Thank you MC for protecting them when I couldn't." Biting her lip she hid her face behind one of the books, but V only kissed the hand he was holding. She didn't like other people seeing her being so affectionate. Jumin on the other hand smiled at the scene. He didn't know much about love, but he knew his friend, and this was him truly happy. There were no tired expressions on his face, no hesitation in his voice to speak, and his smile was brighter than Jumin had seen in the last eleven years.

"I'd also like to thank you MC." Forgetting her flustered state MC peeked at Jumin over the book.

"Whatever for?" Jumin smiled at her and looked between the two of them.

"For everything you've done. I'll admit when you came to heal V's eyes I was a little suspicious but I can see how much you care for him. In fact you care about more than you let on if I'm not mistaken." MC put the book down and smiled.

"Yes and no. See I stand by what I said that night I treated him. My main concern is the twins and I'll protect them from getting hurt no matter the cost. So many of my actions stem from that desire and the includes protecting the other members. I know how much the boys love all of you and worry about everyone. They're truly kind unlike me." Both V and Jumin frowned at her answer and she sighed, folding her hand over each other. "That's not to say I'm completely heartless. I love V and the twins for than anything, but they tend to stress too much over others. So I help the other members so that they don't needlessly worry." V was still frowning at her answer and she let out another sigh. "I'm not saying that I dislike the other members or anything. I'm simply stating or that without the three of you I'd have no desire to help them." To Jumin this made sense. It was a sensible way of thinking and he commended her for it.

"I see. You only take actions to help the people you care about and without those people there'd be no reason for you to do anything." MC nodded and Jumin gave a small smile. "It seems we have a similar way of thinking." MC only shrugged and stood up from the table. She picked up a bag and began to put some of the books in it. It wasn't that Jumin  minded but he didn't like how she didn't explain anything. "What are you doing?" She looked up at Jumin surprised that he was asking.

"Most of these are coded and I can't decipher." There was a slight frustration in her voice and it worried V. "However I think I know someone who can help me." She groaned at the sheer thought of who she had to go see but it was a necessary evil. The look on her face only made V worry more. Who ever she was talking about she clearly didn't want to go see.

"Who? Are you sure it's a safe idea? Should I come with you?" MC's eyes went wide and she pushed V back in his chair.

"No! Absolutely not. It's bad enough that I have to go see her but bringing you would just make her even more of a pain." MC shivered at the mere idea of what could happen if she brought V. Jumin found this behavior strangely curious. MC seemed almost scared of the person she was talking about.

"MC just who are you going to see?" Jumin could tell that V also wanted to know, so he didn't see the harm in asking. MC hesitated not sure if she should answer. It would only raise more questions but she didn't want to lie to V. Pinching the bridge of her nose MC let out a long sigh.

"I'm going to go see Saizo's sister Yuki. She'll have the answers I need, I'm sure of it." V's eyes widened at her answer and a million questions filled his brain.

"You mean she's still alive?" MC nodded and Jumin was now confused and clearly missing some information. MC looked over to Jumin and could see that he was completely confused by the current conversation.

"V now is not really the time to talk about this. I'll go see Yuki and while I'm gone you can tell Jumin what you see fit. I don't mind if he knows." V was still too stunned say anything so he nodded. MC planted a kiss on his cheek and smiled. "Thank you. Utsusemi come please." The huge black crow flew through the house, causing Jumin to jump, and landed on MC's arm. "I'll call if I'm not going to be home by dinner." Again V could only nod as MC disappeared from the house. Leaving both V and Jumin with questions. Only a few minutes had passed since MC left but to V it felt like hours. He never in a million years imagined that anyone related to Saizo would still be alive. It also made V wonder why MC never mentioned it before. She was so fond of Saizo and it showed when she talked about him but she never said anything about him having a sister. Jumin could tell that something had shocked his friend but without the proper knowledge he couldn't be of any help.

"What was MC talking about when she left? Is there something I'm not supposed to know?" V snapped out of his thoughts and smiled at his friend.

"Well she said I can tell you so I might as well. See about four hundred years ago MC was living in Japan during the warring states era. There she met a man named Saizo and they fell in love." V knew it was in the past but he still felt a stab to his heart when he said it out loud. "They had twins together and she was content enough to give up magic." Jumin was beyond intrigued by V's story. Knowing this explained why MC took to the twins so quickly. She must of seen something of her own children in them.

"MC is still a witch though so what changed?" V's face fell at the question as he remembered seeing the pain on MC's face. Even though it happened so long ago he knew that it would always be fresh in her heart, just like him with his mother.

"Hunters came after MC but she wasn't home. A fire broke out, killing Saizo and the twins." V's throat felt tight as he told Jumin the rest of the story. He remembered seeing MC break down after telling him and he hated that she carried such a heavy pain inside of her. Jumin also felt very solemn after knowing this. It never once crossed his mind that MC had fallen in love or ever bared any children. Even he knew that losing those things would be very painful for anyone, but he couldn't imagine carrying that pain for so long. "It makes me feel insecure in a way." Hearing V say that made Jumin raise an eyebrow. V chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "She grieved over him for centuries. I don't think I can ever compete with him." Jumin frowned at V's theory.

"I think you can." This seemed to perk V up a bit and Jumin was glad. "I know I'm not the best with feelings and emotions, but I know that MC wouldn't open up to just anyone. Especially after a loss like that, and who knows how many other losses. I mean she is four hundred years old, so I'm sure she's seen plenty of people die." Realizing that his point was lost on V Jumin cleared his throat. "My point is that she must care about you a great deal because she's let you in. I don't think that's something she does casually." V listened intently to Jumin's words and thought them over. He wanted to believe that it was true but the fact that she never told him about Saizo's sister still being alive made him uneasy. Jumin noticed that V still seemed doubtful and he realized that it must have to do with this Yuki person. MC had said that it was Saizo's sister and that she was still alive. "Are you doubtful because of this Yuki person?" V nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

"I suppose. MC never said anything about Saizo having siblings, let alone that anyone from her past was alive. If it's Saizo's sister I don't understand why she wouldn't tell me." Jumin nodded and understood V's concern.

"It does seem odd but I'm sure she has a good reason. Perhaps they were never that close or something." Jumin only shrugged and V realized that he had never even thought of something like that. It wasn't that far fetched either. V had a sister that he barely even knew.

"I guess you could be right about that. I'm sure she'll explain when she gets back." Jumin nodded and V felt a bit of relief. If there was one thing he could trust in the world it was that MC had a reason for everything.

[gunhandsam]

You Always Remember Your First

"A while ago, Emma and I were talking as we sat about her place, perhaps curled up in bed and just sharing in the simple joy of finding a human being that one could tolerate being around.  Well, our place.  I still haven't fully made that connection of... sharing a home with another person.  I recognize the shack as home, yes, but I don't fully see it as our home.  And... 'the shack', it sounds so dismissive, no?  I ought to come up with a better name for it, it sounds like I'm speaking ill all the while not being willing to trade it for a suite at the Ultra-Luxe.  Emma's home is where I discovered there could be more to life than murder, wandering, alcohol abuse, more murdering, buying company for the evening, or what passed as evening at the time anyway, followed by more wandering."

"Anyway, as we sat or lay there, whichever it was, she asked me if I had plans on moving my stuff in, setting up ourselves up for a more permanent living situation.  I of course was nervous, as I've never even considered it, but now that it seemed that not only was I staying in the Mojave for a while, but she hadn't grown tired of me either... well, giving it some thought can't do any harm, right?  I've got the stuff down in the hole in the hills, and some in a room in Novac. Even got a little bit of kit up in Jacobstown stashed away in one of the rooms well away from the locals.  I don't like disturbing them when I pass through, but they were nice enough to let me have a place to rest in exchange for running off some trouble makers a while ago.  So yeah, you could say I'm spread out a bit."

"I plan to consolidate things, sell off what I don't need, even give to those that need more than I.  For example I've got plans for all the armor I've carted into Novac; gonna strip it down to scrap metal and lug it on over to a particularly sweet repair girl.  Last I saw her, she seemed like she could stand to have some kindness in her life.  Anyway, the whole "Why don't you move your things in, babe?" thing.  I've been more or less living out of my bag, using whatever it is I've packed and crammed in there, but for all my shuffling things back and forth, there's one thing I've never taken out of there, that one special thing I always have on me wherever I am."

He produced a slender object, wrapped in a delicate cloth worn thin from years of being jostled around during his travels.  Sam placed it on the table with a quiet reverence, and gently unraveled the cloth as if he was terrified the whole thing might turn to dust in his hands.

"You know that saying; you always remember your first?  First kiss, first love, first awkward teenage grope, first time getting laid, first near death experience, that kinda thing?  Yeah."  He smiled down at the object on the table, a simple fork, missing one of its tines.  It was well worn, most of the shine had given way to a smooth patina, parts of it pockmarked with rust.

"I remember the first time I killed someone quiet vividly.  Which is impressive, considering the kind of life I lead.  People come and go, usually go by way of gunshot or grenade, or fade from memory as nights of heavier drinking wash away those memories.  But it's even more impressive, I think, that I was nine years old at the time, and can still see it clear as day.  It was summer, during those 'dog days', when you just want to curl up and wait it out. But hanging around a house made mostly of metal down by a river in a sticky Virginia summer didn't have much appeal, so I'd go out looking for somewhere cool and safe to nap or read.  There was a little hollow, carved into a hill by the river, I'd curl up in there and watch the water go by.  Wasn't far from home, just in case a mirelurk or something showed up and I had to run home for somebody to kill the thing.

He shuddered, stifling a nervous grin.

"I hate mirelurks.  Anyway, that day I heard someone rooting around in one of the piles we kept all the scrap stuff.  Not in that kind of casual but urgent, "Where'd I put the damn Nuka bottles?" way, but this was more careless rooting around in the garbage.  I shimmied out of the hole and poked my head around, just in time to see one of the kids in town launch himself out of the pile and start booking it for town like his life depended on it.  The dude digging in the garbage looked pretty mad, then saw me peeking out at him, and jabbed a finger right at me.

"There's one!  Nab him!"  

"Couple other dudes showed up, coming around one of the vacants too dangerous to renovate and were making a beeline right for me.  I, being a child, chose to burrow as deep into the hole as I could get and expect one of the adults in town to step in and sort this out.  Nobody but these really dirty men showed up, and they kept going on about some place called Paradise Falls.  I didn't know where or what that was, but if these guys were from there, I knew I didn't want to go.  The hole was pretty tiny, just big enough for me and a small day pack, but one of the guys managed to shove his upper half inside and was grabbing at me.  I had brought lunch with me that day, so all I was armed with was a fork and a pretty dull spoon.  Fork it was, then.  And in his throat it went.  I was trying for his eye, but I was terrified and the guy was wriggling around a lot trying to grab me, adrenaline dumps do funny things to your coordination.  The fork kinda slid over the guy's skin at first, but all the thrashing around he was doing worked to my advantage, and he ended up skewering himself.  He didn't die right away, of course, and I'm wrenching on the thing as much as I can to pull it out of him cause I'm just a kid and I'm scared senseless and I just want him to leave me alone.  So for all the flailing he's doing and all the wiggling and pulling on my part, I end up tearing his throat open.  Now the blood is really flowing, and he's making this weird raspy whistle noise as his other hand shot past his side and into the hole, and it's clutching a pistol.  I figured that yeah, this is it.  I'm gonna die here cause this man is going to shoot me, so I just wrench the hell out of the fork, and the teeth must've caught him just right or something, cause I felt something pop inside and there's this really weird looking white tube starting to slide out of the hole in his neck."

"He dropped the gun and slapped at his neck with both hands while blood is just gushing all over the place, and I've got my feet on his shoulders, trying to push this gibbering bastard back out of the hole and just away from me, but I keep slipping in his blood and the dirt and I can't really get the leverage I need.  Eventually someone outside started tugging on his legs and pulled him out, and they're talking about that Paradise place.  And... I don't know, just something, a gut feeling, voice in my head, whatever you wanna call it, told me to pick up that pistol and pop the first thing that shows up.  The first thing being a similar man, all dirty and foul and angry eyed, dressed like the dude I just skewered and lips peeling back to reveal a mouth of broken yellowed and blackened teeth, and it all just came together for me.  All those lessons my mom had given me about shooting; both hands on the gun, firm grip, thumbs stacked on each other and pointing forward, pad of the index finger on the trigger, target is fuzzy but the front sight is clear as can be, center mass, keep breathing, and squeeze.

It's not pleasant, letting off a shot in a confined space, but I still hit the guy where I wanted.  It was one of those Chinese pistols, nine mil. Weird how you remember those little details.  A nine at close range tends to zip right through whatever it hits, but I tagged something important, cause that guy dropped to the dirt and went awful pale in a hurry.  His chest didn't get red, either, something black started seeping out of him.  His buddy started shouting and swearing, and just lined himself right up as the guy I had shot did, so he got it just the same."

"Everything was real quiet after that.  My ears were ringing from both the blast of the pistol and the adrenaline swirling in my veins, but nobody else came around for what seemed like hours, even though it was like ten minutes, tops.  That kid that ran home came back with some of the adults, and my mom was with 'em, clutching her sledgehammer and by the looks of things, really wanting to shatter some bones.  She was first in finding me as I crawled out of the hole and over the dead men, my front all slicked with blood and skin devoid of color.  I think she thought I was hurt, cause that's when she got really wound up and was waving one of the two town doctors over.  I said, 'No no, I'm fine mom!  They didn't hurt me!', so she starts going over me making sure I don't have any extra holes or that I'm missing something important, but aside from few scrapes on my legs, I was right as could be.  Shaken up, of course, but physically fine.  By then more folks had shown up, about six, maybe seven other people, and they're all kinda staring at me, hands over their mouths.  My mom asked me what I did, and I simply told her that I did what she told me to do.  She gave me this kinda funny look, like she wasn't sure if she should be proud or terrified, so it came out as both, and we went on home to get me cleaned up.

"Later that day, I told her I left my bag out there and it had some of my books in it, and I wanted to go get it.  She knew how much reading meant to me, so she agreed, but insisted she come with me, and even rounded up a couple of the better shots in town, just in case there was trouble.  They all stood outside the hole, and my mom tossed in a sheet so I wouldn't get dirty again, and told me to make it quick.  I scurried on inside and got my stuff, and I was started to back out when I saw the fork jammed in the dirt.  I don't know why I took it, I just did.  Like something inside me was saying "Hey.  That is important.  Keep it.", so I did.  Slipped it in my bag, then washed all the dirt and crud from it before I went to sleep.  I always kept it close, I suppose I felt like it was my special thing to keep the bad people away.  Mom had her sledgehammer and her dad's hunting rifle, some of the folks in town had their own special weapons too, it just seemed normal to me."

Sam smiled at the fork and slowly ran a finger up and down the tines before wrapping it back up, taking his time as he neatly folded and pulled the cloth in place, and placed his palms on top of it.

"You always remember your first."

[journalxxx]

Rerun

Inspired by @steampunch​‘s breathtaking art

The images on the screen are surprisingly clean and vivid, the sound of laughters and broken branches unexpectedly crisp and sharp. Each reel was packed and sealed very carefully, but Ford wouldn't have guessed they would have aged so well. They've withstood the test of time much better than the both of them, which, he supposes, is the exact purpose of such keepsakes. He doesn't watch them, though. He can barely remember the content of the tapes, but they hold very little interest compared to the fact that Stan's jokes and questions have gradually lessened, that his eyes are now glued to the screen as if the very essence of the universe was pictured on it. His own largely is, probably.

Bless the visual arts. Three nights of detailed tales and heartfelt apologies didn't so much as spark the barest hint of recollection on Stan's part, yet a handful of pictures from a child's scrapbook and few minutes of haphazard recording are proving miraculous. Ford observes his brother's features with trepidation, the deep shadows cast by the projector giving him an even more serious and profound appearance. This is it, he can tell. He hopes.

The reel stops with an abrupt snap. Stan blinks, glancing around himself as if suddenly awoken from a dream. He rubs his hand on his eyes for a moment.

"...Damn. Sorry, can we rewatch the last part? I spaced out a bit." "Of course." Ford stands up and starts fiddling with the projector, rewinding roughly half of the tape. He bides his time with the equipment, and with his questions. He sits back on his chair as two overly energetic kids are about to earn themselves a semi-permanent banishment from the family shop. "Where did you say you found these?" "In my private study. I don't quite know how they ended up down there, but I do remember having them sent here from home. I guess I did move around some stuff at some point..." Stan keeps staring at the screen thoughtfully, slouching slightly to the side of the armchair, his hand holding his right cheek. A frown crosses his features, but only for a moment. "...Right. The second underground floor. I could never get past that fancy lock. But the backdoor to the emergency stairs was a child's play. I can't believe the gnomes never found a way in." There's his answer. Relief washes over him slowly, almost a physical weight settling in his stomach and crawling up his spine. It pervades him so deeply that it feels almost unpleasant. Stan shoots him a small, satisfied smirk, and Ford can only smile in return. "I set up a couple of magic deterrents back in the day. You got in?" "'Course I did. I turned the whole house upside down while I was searching for anything that could help me fix that mess in the basement. I couldn't make sense of anything I found down there though, not even the giant computer. Goddamn codes and passwords everywhere." The precarious Fort Stan on the screen collapses loudly, catching their attention again. An abrupt cut spares them their father's decidedly unimpressed reaction to their filming ambitions, and the setting switches back to the great outdoors. Stan's expression shifts again, to one Ford doesn't quite know how to interpret. "I found these, I think. I checked one, but I didn't... Well, they weren't going to help me with the nerd work. I put them back where I found them." Ford considers the screen for a moment, realizing he himself has no memory of that specific sequence. He remembers asking for the reels, when his mother had decided to toss away some of their old stuff. He remembers the thought of the tapes being destroyed feeling vaguely unpleasant, he remembers packing them adequately for when he would have time to watch them. For later. "...I never watched them either." Silence stretches between them, way more meaningful than all the inane chatter and one-sided conversations of the last few days. Stan sighs deeply, and Ford squeezes his arm gently. "...Are you all right?" "Yeah, yeah." "If you're tired, we can call it a day and-" "No, really, I'm fine. It's just- it's just..." Stan's gaze drops to Ford's hand and he stares at it intently, as if trying to gauge the right word from Ford's knuckles. "...Nuts." "That's putting it mildly." Stan smiles, and falls silent again. He is strangely pensive, strangely quiet and cautious, much unlike his normal boisterous character and even his easy-going and carefree amnesiac self. Of this third, probably temporary iteration of his brother Ford knows nothing, and he has absolutely no idea how to handle it. "Stan... I know I've been nothing but spitefully secretive about everything since I came back. About myself, about my plans, about Bill- and God knows how much damage that caused. But if there's anything you need to know... Anything you want to ask..." "No, not ask... but I do have something to say." He frowns, picking an invisible speck of dust off Ford's sleeve. "And do. Before it slips my mind." That is a loaded introduction if Ford's ever heard one, so he waits. Stan slightly leans forward, then he pauses, a shadow of uncertainty crossing his features, then he leans forward again. He doesn't stop. His lips land on his brother's, his breath tickles his cheeks, and Ford's mind goes completely blank. The first emotion emerging from the void is utter dread. Because Ford cannot possibly fathom what may have spurred such an action, so it must be some sort of mistake, some tragic inconsistency or misplaced attachment in his brother's memory, a positively catastrophic one. He tries to inch back from him, but Stan's arm slips from his grasp to hold him by the side of his head. Ford's mouth opens imperceptibly in surprise, and suddenly he's acutely aware of his brother's thumb tracing his cheekbone, slowly tickling his sideburn, of his palm brushing the shell of his ear, of his fingers tangling in his hair and curving on his nape. Stan's lips caress Ford with a gentleness that he's never experienced before, with his brother or with anyone else, and with a deliberate tranquillity that subdues any objection. It's over before Ford can recover properly. Stan leans back just a bit to look at him, still gripping Ford's head firmly, only slightly flushed and holding his gaze steadily. "I..." Ford gulps. Each word feels like a round of Russian roulette, ready to blow both their brains out. "I think... this is a serious misunderstanding." "You think, uh? Figures, I should have started with the other thing. But that 's been... a long time coming." "What... Stanley, what on earth-" "Shut up and listen, Poindexter. Carefully." The hand on Ford's nape becomes heavier. The grip on the back of his neck suddenly feels way more like a vise, and Stan brings their heads closer again. Their foreheads bump. Hard. Painfully. "You motherfucking bastard." Ford blinks. His doubts on Stan's coherency and sanity have skyrocketed in the last sixty seconds, but he has no opportunity to express them. "To make it quick. I'm not going to rub in your face the ungodly amount of utter bullshit that you spew on mine thirty years ago, but don't think I don't remember. Don't think for a second that I don't remember." He can feel Stan's nails digging slightly in his nape, their glasses tinkling uncomfortably against one another, his brother's steely tone digging in his chest like a knife. "I'm not going to question your right to complain about the state of the house as if it was a deconsacrated temple- my house, as much as it is yours - or to burn my merchandise, or to disparage three decades' worth of work to bring your sorry ass out of Sci-Fi Land. I'm not so stupid that I can't see your point in those matters. A cheap, selfish, haughty point, but a point nonetheless." "I-" "What I do question-" Stan's jaw sets at a sharper angle, a tight grimace twists his features "- is how much of a petty, self-absorbed prick one must be to greet his own brother after thirty whole years with a punch on the face. A punch. On the face. And insults. And a full-fledged eviction notice." "No, listen." Ford's head snaps up, nudging the other to earn himself enough leeway to look at him. "I told you, I'm- believe me, I'm truly sorry about that. I had just come back, the house was-" "I know what you said and for God's sake, shut up. This is nothing, this is childish, obnoxious, irrelevant crap- nothing compared to dragging a couple of kids - my niece and nephew, your niece and nephew- into your personal holy crusade against a psychopathic, mind-controlling monster. They could have died, Ford. They could have gone mad. I may have done a lousy job at protecting them from all this myself, but at least I tried. At least I tried." "...I know. That... I know. You-" "Stanford. Shut. Up." Stan finally loosens his grasp and raises his head to meet Ford's eyes. He doesn't look as furious as Ford was expecting. He doesn't look angry at all, in fact. He looks dejected, tired. Sad. "I know that you know, and that you're sorry. I know what you told me. The problem is, you told me yesterday, and the day before that. You told me when I didn't even know what the hell you were talking about, you gave me your apologies when I didn't even know I deserved any. And that - as sincere as you may have been - is cowardly as fuck. Wonderfully refreshing for your conscience, I bet, but completely meaningless for me, because I couldn't talk back." The logic is flawless. It's his turn not to talk back, so he doesn't. Stan's expression grows softer. "So. We're doing this all over again. We're talking again about all this, so that you can deliver your apologies properly. And... have some of mine as well. And we're talking to the kids too, of course. They deserve it more than the both of us." Ford nods and instictively glances at the clock. Stan follows his gaze and shakes his head. "Not now. God, not now, I barely even know how old I am. And you look ready to stab yourself with an ice pick." Stan is still holding him, but Ford finds that it doesn't feel as if he's about to snap his neck any more, so he can lean back to a reasonable degree. Ford sighs tiredly, scratching his own knee nervously. "Well, you are right. About... basically all of it. I... I know it doesn't mean much like this, but... I really am sorry. For everything." "I know. I heard you the first ten times you said it, but... Hell, don't give me that look, I refuse to console you. You had that coming." Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, his whole face scrunching up. "Don't go moping around like that, you'll worry the kids. I just... needed to get all that out of my system." Ford considers his brother's words for a moment, his thought dwelling on a short but very prominent part of the evening. "...All of that?" "Yeah. All of that." Now that expression, Ford recognises. He's seen that purposefully casual, undisclosing demeanour countless times from countless hardened gamblers on Lottocron Nine. And apparently three nights in a smelly cell and a forceful ejection from the dimension's finest establishment still haven't taught him that not all bluffs should be called out. "...Is there anything else I need to hear?" Stan snorts. "Yeah. You're a stuck-up, insufferable, pushy smartass." "...I see." "A callous, unfeeling, smug cock." "I'm... glad this nasty incident hasn't impaired your vocabulary." "A remorseless, ungrateful, stubborn son of a bitch." "We still have the same mother, you know." "Are you seriously-" The reel snaps loudly as it stops. They both stare at the bright, white screen for a moment. "Dammit. I can't get to see the end of this thing." "Shall I rewind it again?" "Nah, maybe another time. Put on the next one." Stan lays back comfortably on his armchair and his hand finally withdraws from Ford's neck, slipping off his shoulder. Slowly, lightly. Almost like a caress. "And grab more popcorn while you're at it."

[cloudbattrolls]

Mar suggested I make a plot timeline, which is amusing considering my plot revolves around two literal different ones.

1st Timeline:

[superscript numbers indicate footnotes, which are explained at the bottom]

Pre-Condesce Reign: Miruka and Chimera, two immortal and highly powerful alien reality warpers, create the Juzuxt and Dolcez bloodlines, giving them their respective space and time warping powers to test trolls and make sure they can withstand their levels of power in the form of psiionics. 

Pre-Condesce Reign, some sweeps later: Sazuud Juzuxt betrays Miruka and attempts to kill her, and while she fails she then vanishes despite her patron’s attempts to hunt her down. The irony is not lost on the latter. Nothing of the sort happens with Liehde Dolcez, since Chimera intentionally handicapped his powers by requiring an outside source to fuel them beyond very basic time manipulation.¹ 

461 sweeps before present day: Chimera and Miruka single out Tabula Raisaa and Priori Poster as ideal hosts for their needs due to the pair’s psiionics, making their respective bargains and leaving the pair objects representing their bond and powers, the clock and the mask. Due to the additional stipulation of partial soul grafting, both of them also essentially become new people, Chimer Latrai and Miruka Naeyrn, particularly as the former is transformed from redblood to tyrian.²

138 sweeps before present day: Carava Wolger discovers relics recording Chimera and Miruka’s existence and influence (along with their objects) and this information eventually comes to the necromancer kismesis pair of Blanca Rincon and Herzan Juzuxt. The latter recognizes their bloodline in the records, and decides to seek out the mask and clock so that they can rewrite time and space to their liking. 

They succeed in finding Chimer and Naeyrn and using their powers, but the attempt to alter the timeline goes horribly wrong, leaving a gaping rift that slowly begins to destabilize every timeline the trolls³ tied to its creation exist in.⁴ 

Zelaya Rincon, alternate⁵ descendant of Herzan⁶ and Blanca, is created by the unstable world temporarily brought about by the rift. She seeks to undo the source of her own existence and save the rift-touched bloodlines of least one timeline while punishing the ones responsible for so much destruction.

38 sweeps before present day: The polyphon (living eldritch music note) Echthros, damaged from a war caused by Chimera and Miruka in her native universe, falls through time and space and is drawn by the energy of the rift to land smack in front of Cherie Dolcez, killing their moirail Erikaa Josiet in the process and assuming a version of her form.⁷

Cherie asks to make a bargain with her:⁸ if she gives them the energy required to use their power and search for another version of their moirail in the crumbling timelines, they will gather trolls for her to feed off of as she works to rewrite history so that the rift was never created. Cherie doesn’t realize that Echthros plans to not merely alter the past, but to remove all the bloodlines involved from having ever existed to preserve order, including their own and Erikaa’s.

They serve her through many timelines until they finally cycle back into the primary one, using their power to move between them as they die, trying to build a perfect town for their moirail to return to.⁹

Natasi comes to Alternia some time later, sent by Chimera to find, capture, and return Echthros to their native universe. Despite their greater power, Echthros remains out of their reach by utilizing Cherie’s ability to quickly cross timelines to stay ahead of them.

Present day: The descendants and originals who remain of the original rift-maker trolls are gathered by Zelaya to save what is now the last remaining salvageable timeline from the splintering of the rift. Natasi holds off Echthros as her gathered minions fight the trolls attempting to reset the timeline to their liking. Things are further complicated when Naeyrn, possessed by Priori, turns on the others and attempts to wipe everyone but herself and Tabula from existence in the new timeline out of spite. 

She is stopped by the sacrifice of the dead, splintered remains of Orthos Aviiva, descendant of one of the rift-makers, who is now doomed to permanent cessation in all timelines as they give themself up to allow her to be cut down. Echthros’s minions are defeated, and the polyphon is thrown by Maidel Juzuxt through the very rift that drew her to the planet.

Natasi, Chimer, and Maidel are left standing to rewrite the timeline, crossing over seamlessly to a new world where they have lived lives unknown even to themselves, for they kept their memories of the old one.¹⁰

The Ascendant Pawns plot ends there, and Heaven of Ashes picks up in the second, new timeline they made, where history has been changed so that the rift never happened.

Footnotes:

1. He’s also just a lot more chill and Chimera wasn’t an excessive dick to him, which helped.

2. The remnants of the original souls, Tabula and Priori, aren’t terribly pleased by this and still hung around as echoes to bother Chimer and Naeyrn (far more strongly in the latter’s case), feeling cheated out of actually benefiting from the deals.

3. Etoile Dolcez and Ostrex Josiet got turned into robots along with most of the other riftmakers. The Dolcez line is the weakest of the trolls made by Miruka and Chimera and back then they didn’t have the necessary technology to really make the most of his power. If they had, they might have actually gotten somewhere with their plan and not fucked up so magnificently. 

Other troll bloodlines were involved as well, but the details of these other bloodlines is not largely relevant to the timeline. Mostly because I don’t play them anymore and it’s Yet More Damn Names. The only other relevant one is the Aviiva bloodline, as Rytior Aviiva’s descendant Orthos would later play a small but vital role.

4. Chimer Latrai had her memories of the event wiped by Blanca Rincon, and the limeblood also stole some of her abilities in the process. Naeyrn had her mind further fractured between herself, Priori’s remnants, and Miruka’s fragment, and grew to lose control more often to the part of Miruka’s soul inside her that required consciousness to feed on.

5. Maidel Juzuxt is, in all timelines but the short-lived artificial one, the true descendant of Herzan and Blanca, with green blood dominating the lime and only the Juzuxt line’s space warping abilities. Zelaya was a dangerously unstable alternate version of Maidel with Blanca’s lime blood, possessing not only the Rincon line’s purity and corruption manipulation psiionics, the Juzuxt line powers, and the necromancer skills of the pair. In other words she was ridiculously OP and should not have existed at all, only doing so by hacking the universe.

6. After being cursed into dullahan form by Blanca as vengeance for turning her over to the subjugglators after their failed attempt to pin all the blame on the limeblood, Herzan Juzuxt assumed the name Doroch Chromh, which they have gone by ever since. Because they’re dramatic. 

7. Echthros’s facsimile of Erikaa’s troll form was imperfect: her eyes were still eldritch, and she covered them with a cloth. She also possessed two shadows, and no voice of her own, along with the occasional spacetime glitch of her false body. 

8. Cherie knew something of their bloodline and of the history they had been involved in, and recognized Echthros for what she was, though they did not fully understand her origins and had no idea of her true motivations until she abandoned them. 

9. The blueblood became obsessed as the sweeps wore on with creating a paradise where less than ideal highbloods such as themself and Erikaa would not be looked down on, and the isolation of only Echthros and occasionally Naeyrn and Zelaya for company aside from the fragile copies of doomed timeline trolls they collected led to a severe degradation of their psyche. They eventually believed that everyone needed to be happy and negative emotions were grounds for culling and then recycling into drugged food to feed the other inhabitants. 

Sunnydale also becomes a fuel source of consciousness for Echthros and a Miruka-possessed Naeyrn, as Echthros was on Miruka’s side in the war and still felt loyalty to her. 

10. The memories of Blanca Rincon, Doroch Chromh, and other trolls were also preserved, with Maidel charged to return them, but aside from being forced to restore Blanca he hasn’t really given much of a fuck since he resents nearly everyone else involved. 

[supernatural-squadd]

Wayward Witch

Rowena x Reader// Winchesters x Reader

Warnings: Character death, some language, Angst

A/n: This is going to be a series, so let me know if you want to be tagged in it.

Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa @dean-baby-Winchester @i-am-an-outcast , @animexchocolate

Want to be added to one of my tag lists? Just ask!

“Begin the incantation, dear.” Your ginger mentor was standing above you as you sat on the ground with your legs crossed.

Nodding your head you closed your eyes and began to focus. Picturing the witches image in your head and concentrating on it.

“Per se qui e fracta toi, per se qui e total toi.” The words were clear coming from you, and you did your best not to mess anything up. Not that you ever did.

Rowena was long gone by now. Finishing out the plan you two were carrying out. Meanwhile you continued the spell, also scrying to see what was happening.

“Katja, long time since we’ve had a run in.” Rowena was walking around the ring of fire burning violently around the Grand Coven witch.

The woman looked mortified, pain spreading in her hands.

“What’ve you done to me?” Looking down she saw her fingers. All broken and unable to be used in any way.

“Oh, just a little reassurance dear.” The ex coven’s witch continued to walk confidently. “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. Yet.” A twisted smile was on her face.

Your mind snapped back into your own body. Realizing you’d been successful in your work. The witch wouldn’t be alive much longer. Rowena needed to gather information about some object you were unaware of. Not that it bothered you of its hidden identity.

Rowena had sheltered you, taken you in when your world was falling apart. You had no family. For an orphan, the system was your family. The walls of the shelter. The witch had heard of your potential. You were a natural witch. However, your true capabilities hadn’t exposed itself until a year ago.

When she had finally returned, a pleased smile was on her perfect face. She must’ve gotten when she went to get.

“Where is it?” You were anxious. She’d promised you that this item would lead you to greater things. Help you take a higher step up in power by taking somebody down.

“Patience is key. We’re only a step closer.” Her dress rested just above the floor as she walked to the table.

A feeling of irritation swept over you.

“I’m tired of being patient. If you haven’t gotten this thing, what was the point of today?” Slouching over a chair, you held your head. Why did everything have to be so damn difficult?

“Because, dear Y/n. We know now who has what we seek.” She paused, taking a sip from her cup filled to the brim with tea.

“The Winchesters.”

*****

It’d been a week since you’d tortured the witch Katja. Now both you and Rowena were moving on to what she called “higher targets”. Two men by the names of Sam and Dean Winchester. Hunters and brothers. You’d never heard of hunters, but after research and stories from Rowena, you learned they were deadly. These two especially.

Everyday you practiced spells. Any spell. Anything to get your power stronger. She said you’d need it to kill them both. And possibly an Angel. Honestly, you were never one to believe in Angels. Guess it was time to change your views on some things.

This was a mission you’d have to take on your own. For some unknown reason you had to be the one to kill both of the Winchesters. But as always, you never questioned Rowena’s orders. Just did as you were instructed.

“Don’t hesitate.” She was giving you a pep talk before you headed out to do what was necessary.

“They’ll kill you without a second thought in mind. Remember that.” Her hand was on your shoulder just before she pushed you in the direction you needed to go.

You’d be traveling by car, mainly to conserve energy. It’d take a lot to kill two hunters. Especially your first.

*****

The journey took days- three to be exact. Lucky for you it was easy to find the brothers who were out on a “case”.

There were many times you wanted to turn back, forget the whole damn thing and make a run for it. Sure, you’d killed people before. But this- this was different. They were skilled in killing things like you.

You gave yourself one last glance in the rear view mirror, pushing your hair out of your face and into a ponytail exposing the birthmark on your forehead.

Stepping out of the pickup truck you’d stolen, the crisp cold air greeted you in the parking lot of the hotel. Stinging your once warm face.

Room 118. Bottom floor. That’s where they were. No doubt they had guns in there, who wouldn’t if they knew about what went bump in the night?

“Le specto tre colo ves bestia.” A determined and focused look was on your face as you began chanting the words.

Each step you took closer to the room, your words grew louder and louder.

“Le specto tre colo ves bestia.” The door got closer and closer to you.

“Le specto tre colo ves bestia!” Until it was finally opened.

Inside were two, weakened brothers. Both were on their knees, holding their chests as their hearts beat faster and harder than they ever had. You causally stepped inside and shut the door behind you. Mumbling the incantations under your breath. Watching them both buckle down on pain.

“What are you doing to us?” The taller one was speaking the best he could. The shortness of breath didn’t help his cause.

“The pain will be over soon. But this is necessary.” As soon as you finished replying you went back to chanting. It was important you didn’t loose sight of that.

The other man held his chest tightly as blood began forming around the area where his heart was. A God awful crunching sound filled the air and he screamed out something horrid.

“Once your hearts are ripped from your bodies, you’ll die. Not that it’d be your first time.” Rowena had told you about their many trips with death. You weren’t trying to comfort them with your words, but their faces showed more fear than ever.

The man on your left, the taller one, was arching his back. His chest being risen as he tried his best to hold on to what was his. His eyes were shut tight, the pain consuming him. Yet the other, he studied you. And then something happened. Something you never thought would never happen, in this situation especially.

“Y/n?” He spoke your name. Causing you to loose concentration on your spell.

Both brothers instantly stopped fighting off the pain. There was no more pain. Your mind was too fuzzy at the words you’d just heard to focus on that.

“How do you know my name?” He didn’t answer you, which only made you more amped up. Adrenaline pumped through your veins.

“How do you know my name!” Your voice raised to a high and loud tone, and you watched as your power reached out and grabbed hold of his head. Causing him pain for not answering.

“Birthmark…” his words were quiet, this new pain made it hard for him to speak.

Instantly, you stopped. Allowing him to speak once more.

“Your birthmark. I know you from your birthmark.” His head propped up so he could look you dead in the eyes.

“Know me? How the hell would you know me? What’s it to you?” Although you were speaking, you were still defensive. This could be a trick to get you to let your guard down.

“My sister. Our sister. She- you died, the day you were born. We thought you were dead.” No. He had to have been making things up. You’ve been an orphan your entire life. Family had left you for dead.

She came out of nowhere: Rowena. Appearing in the far corner of the room. Wearing a blue long dress with her hair partially pinned up.

“Why a-” you didn’t allow her to finish her sentence. Instead you grasped the air with a fist and choked her.

“What are they talking about?” Tears fell from your eyes, the thought of a family being out there for you…it broke you down.

“Y/n- listen to me.” Once again she tried to speak, but once again you interrupted her.

“Answer the damn question. You know what I’m capable of. Don’t test me.” Your grip tightened once more, but she refused to speak up.

“Fine. Have it your way, I’ll find out on my own.” Walking over to her you placed two fingers on her forehead, completely forgetting about the two boys in the room with you.

“Pontem Praesidio. Anchora Immortalibus. Per menta mi heava cor anmina. Pontem Praesidio. Anchora Immortalibus.”

**memory of Rowena’s**

“We’re loosing her! Start compressions now!” Three doctors surrounded by a staff of nurses worked on an infants stillborn body.

“My- my baby. Why isn’t she crying? What’s going on?” A woman with curly blonde hair and fare white skin was lying on an operation table, a c-section freshly opened.

“She’s still not breathing.” Everybody rushed around the baby who still wasn’t moving.

*fades to an hour later*

“I’m so sorry for your loss. We did everything we could to save her but-” A man in a white coat stood in a room. The same room where a gruff looking man, crying woman, a young boy, and newborn baby boy were.

“Where’s her body? I want to see her.” The woman spoke up, holding tightly onto her newborn son.

“She’s been taken in for labs. It’ll be a few days before you can-”

“No. Let us see her now.” The husband was speaking now.

“I want to say goodbye.”

**back to current day**

“You lied to me?” Taking a step back, you allowed your arms to hang low in shock.

“You lied to me.” Falling to your knees you broke down. Rowena crumbled in front of you, pain radiated through her head.

There was nothing left to do. You couldn’t even think.

“A cierta.” With the simple words, her neck snapped at your command. Her lifeless body dropped to the ground.

What were you going to do now?

[fireontherun]

Where there's smoke

Julia: {When you're constantly on the run, you don't have the luxury of ever being comfortable. You don't always know the date, or how long you'll have in the place you're at. Circumstances can change on a dime, and if you decide to ignore a bad feeling you get, well, that could blow right up in your face. Its been five years since I escaped the last time and while I hope I can stay ahead of their end game, I never let myself forget what being in their hands was like. To them, I wasn't a human, I was an experiment. Hurt me until I went up in flames. If they could find a way to control my fire, they could control me. And worst case scenario, I would become a walking weapon that would be sold to the highest bidder. Five years ago, I threw a wrench in their plans by escaping compliments of a industrial fire I orchestrated, that burned so hot everyone and everything in the facility was reduced to ash. Standing in a dirty alley, I could hear the guards pleading to leave, plain as day, even if it was just a painful memory, years and miles away. A spark caught on the tips of my fingers and I quickly extinguished it, casting a glance around to be sure that no one had witnessed that. Discovering I was different could and had led to my capture before. No one could be trusted. I learned that lesson the hard way, and had a couple scars on my back as a permanent painful reminder. I blew out a deep breath and sunk deeper in the shadows and froze in place, my eyes watching as the stranger I had identified as a potential risk. He passed my hiding spot and my fear escalated. Fuck. He was definitely military. I made out at least three weapons, and I was sure there were more that I couldn't identify placement of. I counted in my head to thirty before slowly and stealthily moving from my location to follow my identified target. I would have to be even more careful with this follow since he was clearly not a civilian. I needed to know if he was here looking for me, or just passing through. I hoped the latter, because given the physique of that guy, it would not be a fun fight if push came to shove. I followed his moves for several minutes, stopping far enough behind he shouldn't have any suspicions, at least I hoped. Finally l, my pursuit paid off, my mouth formed a smile as I saw him enter a motel room with a key card.} Gotcha. {I whispered happily to myself, memorizing the room number and planning on going back later to search his room for intel. Nodding once and moving swiftly away from the man I'd been stalking and his hotel room feeling pretty pleased with myself.} Gabe: We'd fucked up in Kandahar. Uncle Sam sure as fuck wasn't gonna let us forget that; but a court-martial? Fuck if I was gonna let some paper pushing bureaucrat sign my death warrant. Seventeen months on the LAM, and I'd decided bounty hunting was the way to go. This project Juliet-6 the US government had its panties in a wad over looked to be my ticket outta "deadman walking" territory: track and locate the package, detain, neutralize if necessary. Seemed easy enough, but the days turned into weeks, weeks into months with still no leads, no sign of a populous-neutralizing weapon. Until an accident at a dispensary in Colorado caught my attention. How does the cause of a fire remain undetermined...in a place that deals pot? Fast forward over a few minor details to now, and the target, the sexy little arms courier who's only crime appears to be fucking the wrong guy--Yep, she's falling nicely into my trap. She thinks she's tailing me, but she's really tailing my decoy to the truckers' motel off the interstate. I slip out of the adjoining room, waiting for the opportunity to corner her, and when I do, her first clue is the sound of my gun cocking into her back. "Don't move. Just tell me where you've got the weapon stashed. Nobody needs to get hurt here, Sweetheart." Julia: {I thought I was clear. I thought everything would be fine, I could get in and get out and vanish into thin air like I had done a hundred times before. Until I felt a gun at my back and I knew I had made a mistake. Stiffening instantly, as I worked through all the angles how to get out of this without a bullethole, preferably. Turning my head to stare up at him. He was even bigger up close. And the intensity of his stare did not send a flush of warmth through me. Really not the time, Jul.} I think you've got the wrong girl, but if you're nice to me, /maybe/ I'll not make you sing soprano for a few weeks. {I turn around real slow, my eyes locked on his gun hand, ready to run if needs be, but hoping I can use my intellect to get out of this one unscathed. I still wasn't sure what all he knew so how much I could bluff, was still up in the air at the moment.} Gabe: "Make /me/ sing soprano? That's funny. You see, last I checked; I was the one with the gun, chica." Okay, so she's /really/ fucking sexy up close. And feisty to boot. "Don't. Move." I hold the gun on her, get her up against the wall, and give her a quick pat-down with the other. "You're not packing? Look, what's your name? Do you know where your boyfriend's keeping it? Is it at the club? Can you take me to him?" Or maybe I'll start slower and see if she can keep up. "What is /your name/?" Julia: "His hand never so much as wavered, and a rock steady gun hand was really bad news for me. I started to lick my lips nervously as my back pressed against the wall behind me. Think Jul. Your hands lingered a fraction of a second between my thighs in that pat down of yours and my body had a very visceral reaction. My gaze narrowing on your face. Trying not to absorb the details of your face as a woman would, because I don't really have time for...wait. Boyfriend? What boyfriend? My ears perked up as I thought on that one. The way you asked my name, would have made me laugh if it hadn't included a gun still pointing at me.} Just how bad do you want to know what's in my head, Ace? {I lean towards you, dropping my voice into an intentionally sensuous tone.} Do I get to pat you down now, or do you want to search me again? You know, in case you missed something... Gabe: Wait? Did she just? Is she? Is she /hitting/ on me? Some guys might get distracted from the mission at hand, but not me. I won't let this chick throw me off the hunt, especially if that's what her handlers want. A honeypot like her? Yep, she's designed for distraction. "Call me Jupiter. Or Jupe. Not Ace. Not Bud, Buddy, Mack, or Bub. And I didn't miss anything; trust me." I want answers. I want freedom from the land of the free. I realign my sights down her center mast, growing impatient. "Tell me what I need to know. I know you know about Juliet-6, so we either talk here or we talk someplace quiet; and you won't like someplace quiet, baby girl." I listen for movement around me, nostrils flaring, expecting an ambush. "Is Juliet-6 at the club? Is it at The Qube?" Julia: {And just like that, this whole dance we were doing escalated into red flag territory. Juliet-6? A code name I hadn't heard in years, but thanks to the number branded on my hip, I'd never forget it. I'm staring icily at you now, the gun ignored. He knows my designation, knows I'm supposed to be a weapon, but...doesn't know I am Juliet-6? Interesting, and I'm at a loss as to how exactly to play this, when you hand me my out with gold ribbon.} Alright, /Jupiter/. You can call me Angel. Let's not get messy with our real names. I don't have a boyfriend, but if you wanted to ask me out, you'd be in my panties by now if you didn't bring the gun. {I glance around, conspiratorially, leaning so far into you, pushing my chest against your gun hand, my breath tickles your face, speaking softly so you really have to pay attention to my mouth.} We can't talk about this here. Sitting ducks, you know? You want Juliet-6, take me to the club. {My lips curve into a sultry smile, while inwardly I'm ecstatic. Clubs equal lots of distractions and I only need one to get away from you. I don't know what lies you've been fed about Juliet-6, about /me/, but something is definitely rotten in Denmark.} Gabe: "Oh yeah?" I can't help but smirk, giving my imagination the thirty-second latitude to explore what that might be like if she were telling the truth. Which she's not. "🎶Just call me angel of the morning, Angel..." I scoff at her chosen nickname, whistling the rest as I grab her by the arm, jamming the gun up into her side. "How do you know my name isn't really Jupiter? Maybe my mom went through an astrology phase." She's no angel; that's for damn sure. Still, what she's got going on under those clothes makes a man appreciate sin. "C'mon. The club's not far. But you /know/ that." Julia: {You've got a sense of humor. Great. I was about to roll my eyes, when you moved your placement of that annoying gun, and a little bit too heavy handed as it digs into my side. I bruise easy, so that's going to leave a mark. My unease is growing at just how determined you are at completing whatever your assignment is. What happens if you find out that I'm what you're looking for? With a quiet smile, still hoping against a rapidly decreasing hope, that I can somehow use my physical attributes to tempt you into letting me go, or distracting you for long enough that I get the same result. Slipping my legs apart as I curl my hand around the gun in your hand, my shirt revealing just enough of my cleavage to say "come and get me". I'll be compliant for the time being simply because I don't have any other choice.} Right, Angels always hang out in clubs. You want me to go willingly, lose the over compensation hand piece for your dick. Gabe: Does she really think she's gonna pull the old James Bond love em and leave em, get em outta the way shit on me. It's like the analogies in grammar school; squirrel:shiny object :: men:breasts. "Ooh. Hitting me where it hurts, Ang. But, uh...in order to be overcompensating, you've gotta be packing something smaller than the beretta M9; you know what I'm saying?" Okay, so /maybe/ I tuck the gun into the pocket of my hoodie, but I'm not loosening my grip on her arm just so she can--ShitPiss! A patrol car rolls by, sending me ducking into the nearest doorway, pulling my hood up over my head and half my face. "Keep walking." Sooner we get inside'll be better. Sooner I get through this, too... Julia: {I stare silently at you as you're...bragging about your dick...well then. I'm not going to be picturing what you're packing in those pants of yours. No. Walking? Okay. Pretending I didn't notice that awkward effort to hide from the patrol car that just passed.Hmm. Wonder what that's about. Tucking that away for later, I keep moving toward the club. I'm not sure why you think I would be here. Well, why Juliet-6 would be here. I didn't make a habit of...oh shit. Halfway to the bar I see two familiar faces. High level employees of the same "Doc" that was behind the experiments I endured for most of my life. They're at my two o'clock and you're at my six. I...have less than ten seconds before those monkeys see me. I spin, breaking free of your hold on my arm, and dive in. If I don't blend in now, I'll be strapped to a table in half an hour. It could be worse, at least you're not bad looking. My last thought before kissing you? If it doesn't work, my hand is closer to your gun.} Gabe: "Aw, naw. C'mon--What're you?" What the...fuck? I don't even have time to act. My hand reacts, bringing the gun, pocket and all, up into her chest, before it's calmed the hell back down by her pouty caramel lips. It's just a kiss, right? A damn fucking good kiss, but still just a kiss. Our lips snarl, struggling against each other in this fucked up little power play we got going. "Just can't keep your hands off me; can ya, baby girl?" My eyes scan the room for the real reason she's getting so friendly. Something's wrong here. Julia: {I blink up at you, my fingers touching my mouth, still feeling the force of yours. That, was possibly the worst thing I could have done is the last thought I had before I heard a voice that haunted my nightmares, my expression of terror unable to be hidden before I grab your arm and pulling you hard to come with me. At the resistance, I looked over my shoulder hoping they weren't close enough to grab at me, pleading you with my gaze.} Please, I'll explain outside. Just. Not. Here. Please. Gabe: Maintaining a periphery, my eyes settle back on her face, trying to get a good read. She's surprised even herself with that kiss. Or maybe she just didn't expect it to be that good? Okay, that was more than a flicker of fear of being caught in possession; more than the fear of my gun, which, surprisingly, she didn't show. A healthy fear of firearms is a respect for their power. And she? She's desperate to get out of here. Like, mortally desperate. My arm winds around her, pulling her within whisper range. We could pass for a couple of handsy lovers if there were trust here. "The weapon." I mutter, eyeing the men over her shoulder. It's gotta be close, but we're surrounded. I pull her by the waist, cutting through the crowd to the fire door. "Hold up." Spotting the pull station for the fire alarm "Just like high school." I give the handle a tug, and alarms blaring, sprinklers soaking, we make our exit with the crowd. "We've gotta get off the street." Julia: {That was just too close. I'm telling myself that's why I'm so rattled, it doesn't have anything to do with the taste of you lingering on my lips. They. Almost. Caught. Me. I'm probably shaking, as I run from the club with you, as soon as I'm in the fresh air, all exit routes I had preplanned rush into my memory and I'm leading you up one street and down another stopping outside an abandoned building, picking the locks, pushing you inside, and following right behind. I rest my forehead on the inside of the door, trying to stop trembling before I face you again. A slow breath in and out before turning around.} You almost got me killed, Jupiter. Angels aren't cats, I don't have nine lives, you asshole. Gabe: I'm watching her very carefully as she catches her breath. Me? I'm fine. I almost feel sorry for her. Until she opens that mouth. Kitty's got claws, alright. "How's that? Hey! HEY! You wanna rewind a sec? I just saved your ass back there! You had one job: point me in the direction of the motherfuckin' weapon! Huh? Cuz I don't think it's in...Dale's boot bonanza here!" I kick a box across the warehouse, sending a plume of dust flying. "I sure as hell don't see it! Where is it?" I fly up on her like any other enemy combatant in interrogation, pinning her to the door by her throat before I really realize what I'm doing. "WHERE. IS. IT? People will DIE! Do you get that?!" Slowly, I come to. My look softens to an icy stare and I remove my hand, blocking her against the door with my body. "Give me something. Please." Julia: {I wince as my back hits the door, your hand on my throat, squeezing the air from my windpipe. I'm clawing angry slashes at your hands and arms trying to get the vise-like hold off, a ton of memories of this happening before, so many times before, flooding my head. Nearly falling when at last I'm let go. At least my throat is released. You are still very much pinning me, this time it's with the massive form that is you. I'm gasping to regain the air I couldn't get moments before. After several long tense moments, I try to speak, my voice coming out a little on the hoarse side but getting louder with each word I say.} You want Juliet-6? You don't even know what she is. She isn't a weapon. She's a /person/. {I pause to take another deep breath, staring sorrowfully at you.} Gabe: "Person? You mean?" I stare at her as understanding breaks over my features. /She's/ the bargaining chip I've been hunting for over the past seventeen months? She's the key to freedom? "I've gotta take you in. I mean--" She looks so damned sad. Then there's the fear that clouded her eyes before. My freedom would mean her imprisonment. Which was different when /she/ was just an object, a gun or a bomb or something. "I'm sorry. Let me think. I need to think." I push off and take a step back, holding my hands up. "How? How are /you/ a weapon? Hm?" Wouldn't be the first time I'd been lied to in the name of progress, aka conquering the world. I rub my thumb and forefinger down my mouth, scratching at the scruff on my chin. "There's more to you than meets the eye, baby girl." Julia: {Filled with fear as I hear those dreaded words from your lips. No. Did I /really/ just run from the club to get handed right back to the very same men we left behind? Is this for real? I unzip my pants, pulling down on the waistband to show you the tattooed~~number six low on my right hipbone.} Identity can be confirmed by a specific scanner. Which I'm sure you don't have. {Moving to put my clothes back in order and continuing to stare you down. My body isn't reacting to him continuing to call me baby girl. Well, maybe it is, the damn traitor.} I don't want to be a weapon, why do you think I've been running? You can't turn me in. Please. Don't. Gabe: I'm a mix of flailing arms and averted eyes as she starts unzipping her pants. "Whoa whoa whoa-ho! What're you?" To show me the brand: courtesy of the US Government. After her little show and tell, I keep my eyes glued to the place that was just naked, still stuck on the lacy...whatever those were. Thong? G-string? Angel make you drool somethin' somethin'? "Yuh huh." I clear my throat and try to remember what we were talking about. Don't turn her in; right. I shake my head. "Yeah, but if I don't, /I/ can't/ stop/ running. Do you get that?" Of course she understands running. Who knows how long she's been isolated? What is she? And why is she so dangerous? "Are you a threat? I mean, who's to say I can trust you?" There's a shuffle and a can rolling outside, and by instinct I pull her away from the door, my finger to my mouth. Julia: {I wondered why your gaze was still glued to below my waist, and I glanced down, blushing when I realized my lace panties were still sort of visible. Closing my eyes against your words, hating what you were saying. Great. Your life or mine? Well I guess I'm back to being a human lab rat. That's. Just. Great.} You're asking how /you/ know if you can trust /me/? I'm not the one holding a missile over someone else's head. I already know what you're going to do, so just go ahead, return me to them. I don't know why you think I would tell you anything, when nothing I say will make a difference. All I am is a get out of jail free card, I'm not even a /person/ to you. {My voice is tinged with resignation when you grab me, causing me to stumble against you, feeling the heat of your so very muscular form right through your clothes. My eyes drift to your mouth and remember the way you kissed me back in the club. A frisson of heat spears through me, pooling wetness between my legs as my gaze rises to meet yours in heated silence.} Gabe: Will this chick ever shut up? Backing her against another wall, my hand clamps over her mouth, and I wait, listening for movement. "Shhh..." I take a peek through the dirty panes of a busted window. It must've been the wind or something. Nothing here smells /off/ to me. Taking my hand down, our eyes connect. Her words stung us both, cutting deep. "You have my word, Ang: I won't turn you in." I don't think I could live with myself. But that scene back at Qube? The frisk? Those, I could stand repeating. Her body is just too fucking close to mine not to feel nostalgic. Or riled up. Closer. Closer. Hands on either side of her, I move in for the kill--I mean kiss; well-past suffocating and buried hard between her lips. Julia: {I'm just...did he say he wouldn't turn me in? The words rattled in my head, but made no sense. Why would you say that? Either you're better at this game than I first thought, or...you're serious. My eyes narrow as I study you, forgetting everything the moment your face changes. Your arms boxing me in between the wall and you and the way you're looking at me as if you're suddenly hungry nearly makes me whimper out loud. The rough way you kiss me, as if my mouth holds all the secrets you've most wanted, makes me burn. My hands move upwards to rest on your chest as I half heartedly attempt to fight against your mouth's utter possession of mine, before the intensity simply tears my defense down, one swirl of your tongue against mine at a time. This is...bad. But oh so damn good and I don't want to stop. My thighs part ways and I slide one in between yours, wondering if this has your brain as much mush as mine.} Gabe: This is the one time the din of all the chaos inside my brain dies down, focusing on one determined cause. My lips wrestle with hers until we both need to breathe; and even then, I'm nipping at hers for more. Where she grinds, a rock hard bulge grows between her thighs. I can't help but wonder if that line about getting into her panties was true or not, so I discard the gun. And the jacket, the shirt, etc. With one fell swoop, I hoist her legs around my waist, pinning her between the wall and a sudden onslaught of half-starved kisses. I grind up into her, already on fire, itching to feel those wet, lacy thingamajigs. This is crazy! I know it's crazy! "I...want you." Julia: {By the time our mouths /finally/ separate, my lips are swollen from having been so thoroughly kissed, and I'm having trouble breathing your gloriously hard dick is rubbing me in all the right ways, and I know my panties...and my cunt for that matter, has got to be drenched. All reasonable thought has left my brain, all I can think about is how warm my skin is, and that painful ache that will only be relieved with you finding your way inside me. Nodding at your words, even as I whisper} I /need/ you. {My fingers fumble at the fastenings on your pants and mine...trying and failing to multitask, even as I return my mouth to yours seeking more of the way your lips and tongue can make me feel.} Gabe: My lips roll up into hers, smooth as butter, giving her a preview of what's to come, only less gruff. "Here, let me--" Keeping her in position with my hips, her legs already wrapped around me, I do away with the jeans, letting them drop to my ankles as I tear open her fly, ripping through the soaked panties underneath. Her scent fills the air right before I /spear/ her to the wall, burying my cock balls-deep inside her. And that's when the rougher fuck starts, slow and solid like a fist, raising her along the cracked plaster. This isn't the "oh baby" kind of sex, either. Neither one of us is really saying much. There's a lot of heavy breathing, and some whimpers, but it's all in the eyes. Our eyes are locked...and there's no going back. But the faster I buck, the more she bounces, tensing my spine. Julia: {Gasping when you drive into me, feeling like I might split in two. I didn't even get to admire what you'd been packing, but from the tiny twinge of pain as my cunt stretches around your cock, that was one very large package. Definitely wasn't overcompensating for /anything/. My body feels like it's on fire at the way you're relentlessly pounding into me. The friction on my insides with every stroke, creating a tempest of a storm inside me as the pleasure steadily and swiftly increases. Suddenly with one shift of my hips, the change in position stabbing right against my /instant/ orgasm button in /just/ the right way, and my head falls back, my climax overwhelming me, and moaning loud and long.} Fuck! Gabe: I've never had an encounter /quite/ like this before. Every time she bobs on my shaft it's like having white lightning shooting through my limbs. Her orgasm? Mind fucking blown; like nothing I've ever experienced. Her pussy becomes a vise on my dick and I think I can see literal sparks fly. Like, bulbs exploding around me kind of sparks. I might get distracted if it weren't for the moaning sex goddess writhing at the end of my cock, forcing me to empty my load. "Hoooly. Holy shit." My hips slow to a rolling stop as I collapse, and lean into her, trying to process what just happened. "This was--We should--We can't stay here." I kiss her temple, letting her feet touch the floor. I don't even know her real name. I just fucked a mark. And I don't even know her name. Back up go my jeans. Julia: {The kiss to my temple caught me more off guard than the way my body initially reacted to yours. I let myself lean against the wall while I refasten my jeans, my legs feel a bit shaky, and who knows where my panties went after they got ripped. My voice breaks the silence} Julia. {I shrug slightly, meeting your eyes as I head to the exit.} My name is Julia. Do you have a planned evac, or is this my show? {I swing the door open, and step out into the fresher air watching you only two steps behind me when I feel a sharp sting on my neck my fingers reach up to rub the pain away, and I feel the end of a tranq dart. Glancing over at you and I see that you are sporting an identical dart protruding from your shoulder. Shit. My eyes and body feeling heavy as I hit the ground, claimed by the darkness.}