#anyways I imagine most of these as like flashbacks so it’s not interrupting what’s currently going on

[listener-symphony]

I’m bored and I have the power to randomly generate pairs and such, soo, making up random interactions with randomized pairs (plus one trio cuz there’s an odd number). Below the cut because it’s gonna be long (there’s a lot of characters!

(Also it’s okay if nobody has anything they want to send in as an ask but if you’re just being shy or worried I want you to know that 99% of the time askblogs would love to receive an ask and you’re not being a bother by doing it. Don’t know if anybody needed to hear that it’s just I personally always get worried that askblogs receive too many asks so I try not to send them but I’ve done ask series in the past so I know that usually they would love to get a single ask and if they DO have too many they would close the ask box or say something about it, so if they haven’t, you should always send something. That’s all, hope this doesn’t sound like I’m begging for asks I’m just trying to give genuine advice for interacting with askblogs lol)

Okay now to the randomized interactions!

-

LimL!Pearl: Oh! Hi Lizzie! How are you doing…?

SL!Lizzie: …

3L!Scar: She’s probably come to see her husband again.

LimL!Pearl: Oh right! I thought he usually goes to the cliff to visit her though…?

3L!Scar: Well, some nights she comes to make sure we aren’t all staying up late here in the desert…

*SL!Lizzie glares at 3L!Scar*

3L!Scar: …I’m always asleep at night Lizzie… you don’t need to look at me like that… I only know about you coming here some nights because- uh- UH-

LimL!Pearl: uh oh…

-

DL!Scott: hey Ren…

DL!Ren: oh, hello! What’s up?

DL!Scott: you’re a dog hybrid, right?

DL!Ren: yup! What about it?

DL!Scott: well, my Soulbound is one as well, so I was wondering if maybe you could explain why she’s been acting so… weird?

DL!Ren: …what kind of weird?

DL!Scott: you know… the way she’s been acting since we arrived here.

DL!Ren: …I don’t think that has anything to do with her being a wolf, honestly.

DL!Scott: okay, thanks anyway…

-

LimL!Jimmy: HALT! I’m stealing that sheep!

3L!Etho: no please! I managed to get it all the way here from the Ranch! I can’t let you double steal it!

LimL!Jimmy: …wait, you stole it?

3L!Etho: well, yeah, they’re the only ones with sheep. Singular. This is the only sheep. How did you not know that?

LimL!Jimmy: …and you stole it from the Ranchers?

3L!Etho: …yes…?

LimL!Jimmy: …you know what? I’ll help.

3L!Etho: :D

-

3L!Jimmy: So… you’ve had those crystals since the beginning, you said…

LL!Scott: … I don’t see why you care so much…

3L!Jimmy: Future Big Man Scott… I know what those crystals mean-

LL!Scott: I’m sorry I can’t have a serious and dramatic emotional conversation if you’re gonna call me that.

3L!Jimmy: Sorry!!! I don’t know what to call you!!! Scott’s my husband and you’re… not!

LL!Scott: ….. I don’t feel like talking about this right now. But, for future reference, I suppose you could call me… Stars?

3L!Jimmy: …Okay, Stars.

-

LL!Mumbo: So you mean to tell me, your version of me killed Scar?

SL!BigB: yup. And that’s why he’s not here. He swallowed him whole and he can never recover from that.

LL!Mumbo: he WHAT?! Okay, I gotta ask the other me if this is true…

SL!BigB: you can’t.

LL!Mumbo: why…?

SL!BigB: because when he ate Scar, Scar took over his brain, so he doesn’t remember anything.

LL!Mumbo: …I’m terrified.

-

LL!Scar: This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve asked me for a love crystal, you know.

DL!Martyn: wait, really? What did the other me want with one?

LL!Scar: no idea! Maybe to help his awful marriage or something. Actually, was Mumbo still alive at that point? Ah, the memories all blur together. Anyways! You’re gonna have to promise me something good in return.

DL!Martyn: But… I don’t have anything!

LL!Scar: Me neither! Thats why you have to promise me something.

DL!Martyn: wait, do you even have any crystals?

LL!Scar: hahaha… nope! Still waiting for Santa to give me that Crystal Making Kit for Christmas.

DL!Martyn: …you mean Symphony? Ugh, whatever, I’ll come back when you actually have crystals, I guess…

LL!Scar: don’t scoff at me when you don’t even have anything to pay with!!

-

LL!Tango: Are the rumors true? Are you actually… washed up?

LimL!Etho: man 😭

-

LL!Martyn: so… you won…

LimL!Martyn: yes. What about it?

LL!Martyn: …did they… are they… are you… happy?

LimL!Martyn: ….it was satisfying. What about you? How’s losing feel, loser?

LL!Martyn: …… rude. You’re quite rude for a giant scary… pirate.

LimL!Martyn: isn’t your name Fart or something?

LL!Martyn: listen dude I’m being incredibly vulnerable right now and you are not very nice about it. I’m leaving.

LimL!Martyn: don’t know what you expected. Especially when your name is Fart-

LL!Martyn: BYE!

-

Gem: Hey Skizz!

LL!Skizz: oh hey… Gem! Wow, you’re the only one of your kind…

Gem: my kind??

LL!Skizz: Gems! There’s like four Skizzles and only one Gem!

Gem: oh, yeah… honestly, it’s kind of scary, especially since it’s like nobody knows me except Secret Lifers…

LL!Skizz: aw, that’s sad! I’m sure you can fit in with the rest of us soon enough!

Gem: Aw, thanks Skizz!

-

3L!Skizz: Hey Impulse… The Impulse I know is up in Lonely Cliff, and I know he betrayed my guys, but I’m still kind of worried about him, you know? So I was wondering if you knew anything that could convince him to talk to us again…?

LL!Impulse: hm… maybe he wants to play some fun British games

3L!Skizz: …never mind…???

-

LL!Lizzie: so… you’re saying that your Joel is… a bad boy?

LimL!Grian: ……you can’t have him

LL!Lizzie: DARN!

-

SL!Scott: ohhhhh no please don’t do it please don’t-

SL!Jimmy: THE FLORIST SENDS HIS REGARDS!

SL!Scott: NO HE DOESN’T!!! HE HASN’T SPOKEN TO YOU!!! I SAW HIM!!!

-

SL!Martyn: *sniffsniff*

LL!Bdubs: WHY DOES EVERYONE ALWAYS SNIFF??

SL!Martyn: I can smell it… you have… relationship issues

LL!Bdubs: NO I DO NOT!!! ETHO AND I ARE VERY HAPPY!!! GET OUTTA HERE YOU MUTT!!!

-

3L!BigB: Dang it’s crazy that Dog Martyn can sniff out relationship issues

LL!Etho: huh? Where’d you hear that from?

3L!BigB: oh well he just did it to- uhh… UHHH…

-

SL!Skizz: ……. So you’re… with Top?

DL!Jimmy: …excuse me?

SL!Skizz: you know, Tango Top?

DL!Jimmy: …I think that’s between me and Tango-

-

LimL!Joel: WHY ARE YOU HUMAN?!

SL!Cleo: Why aren’t you?

LimL!Joel: …

-

LL!Pearl: So, if you had to choose between Gaslight, Gatekeep, and Girlboss which one would you be?

LimL!Scott: I’m thinking Girlboss. But I’d be… Gillboss.

LL!Pearl: … you’re nothing like the Scott I know…

LimL!Scott: ???? Well yeah, he’s not a fish…

-

3L!Ren: That ship you live in seems dangerous… wouldn’t you rather live in a castle in the Kingdom?

DL!Etho: You don’t even know the half of it, Ren… But also, I don’t think you want all the Shipwreckers in your Kingdom.

3L!Ren: …Yeah, okay, I admit I’m a little afraid of you Double Lifers.

-

SL!Mumbo: so we’re best friends for real now, since Secret Life is over right?

SL!Etho: ?? no

SL!Mumbo: 🥺😭

-

LL!BigB: you know, if your scary wife is too scary for you, you could always change your identity a little…

SL!Joel: nothing is too scary for me, especially not my scary wife.

LL!BigB: okay, but I’m just saying, she would never be looking for anyone named Jerry.

SL!Joel: …?

-

LimL!BigB: So… anything interesting going on in your life?

SL!Impulse: if I hit things with sticks it kind of works like drums

LimL!BigB: …so a no, then

-

LimL!Scar: Mom, how many divorces do you have to go through?!

DL!Cleo: wtf

-

LL!Cleo: So who in Lonely Cliff is Gaslight, who is Gatekeep, who is Girlboss?

DL!Grian: …I’d be Gatekeep, Impulse would be Gaslight, and Lizzie would be Girlboss. Now go away.

LL!Cleo: Okay… but I really think all you Loners should hang out more. Could be good for you.

DL!Grian: I said go away.

-

LL!Ren: Second place…?

LimL!Impulse: Second place.

LL!Ren: …congrats.

LimL!Impulse: …you too.

-

3L!Tango: …

LimL!Tango: …

3L!Tango: …what is up with the Jimmys

LimL!Tango: I know right?! They’re so obsessed with that other Tango!

3L!Tango: I just think it’s weird, are you jealous?

LimL!Tango: NO

-

3L!Bdubs: CAN YOU STOP FLYING UP TO MY WINDOW?!

DL!Scar: what’s the point in all these tall towers if nobody’s meant to fly up them?

3L!Bdubs: you’re the ONLY ONE WHO FLIES

DL!Scar: ahh, I see, jealous that I’m the only one who has figured it out.

3L!Bdubs: NO!!! Ugh, maybe it’s a Double Lifer thing…

-

LimL!Skizz: yup! He died first!

3L!Scott: wow… that’s four times in a row… I don’t know if I should tell him or not, honestly… I’m also not sure if it makes me feel better…?

-

LL!Jimmy: okay, I’ve caved. I’m here.

DL!Tango: oh hi! …what do you mean

LL!Jimmy: I’m here to see what all the fuss is about! Why do Jimmys keep coming here?!

DL!Tango: well, I guess they’re just curious about their soulmate…?

LL!Jimmy: okay but nobody is crowding that one Scott.

DL!Tango: because… Ranchers for Life.

-

SL!Pearl: maybe you can fill the Cleo shaped hole in my heart…

3L!Cleo: …I’m married

SL!Pearl: …that’s… not what I meant…

3L!Cleo: then PLEASE work on your wording. Also, TERRIBLE way to start a conversation.

-

DL!Bdubs: have you SEEN my version of you??

3L!Grian: well… yeah… he talked to me.

DL!Bdubs: REALLY? He’s been avoiding everyone though!

3L!Grian: he wanted to know what happened with me and Scar… it’s pretty sad to hear how things went for them in your world.

DL!Bdubs: oh yeah they died badly.

3L!Grian: …. in my world we killed you

DL!Bdubs: OUCH!

-

SL!Bdubs: you should change your wizard tower into a slide

LL!Joel: …what

-

DL!BigB: heyyy…

LL!Grian: hmm?

DL!BigB: you’re a Grian… I was wondering if you could explain anything about my Grian…

LL!Grian: probably not.

DL!BigB: dang, not even gonna try?

LL!Grian: nah, I have nothing to do with THAT drama.

-

SL!Tango: the Bdubs in my world calls Etho daddy too

LimL!Bdubs: ☹️

-

DL!Pearl: HEY!

3L!Impulse: AH.. oh.. you scared me!!

DL!Pearl: Hehee… anyways… I’m just worried about you Loners! If I hadn’t made up with my Soulmate, I’d be here too! I know how much it sucks. So, is there any way I can help?

3L!Impulse: …no. I don’t really fit in anywhere…

DL!Pearl: oh come on! I’m sure everyone else at The Nose would love to have you!

3L!Impulse: hh… I feel like I’d be shot double dead if I was spotted at the Nose.

DL!Pearl: hm.. there’s surely someone who would like to welcome you! What about your soulmate?

3L!Impulse: who…?

DL!Pearl: Bdubs! You two loved each other so much…!

*3L!Impulse has clock flashbacks*

-

LimL!Cleo: Are you treating my son well?

DL!Impulse: uhh… well yeah, but… he’s not your son?

LimL!Cleo: well my actual son doesn’t have any partners so I’m just checking on the other versions of my son. Especially yours. Since in my world you killed him.

DL!Impulse: Oh, well, none of that here! Bdubs and I would never kill each other! …Well, he accidentally killed me technically, but that doesn’t matter! Also… I don’t know how I feel about pretending you’re my mother in law….

-

SL!Grian: hey emo boy did you know we’re soulmates in Secret Life

3L!Joel: don’t call me- wasn’t the soulmate season Double Life?

SL!Grian: Yeah but we were soulmates anyways isn’t that crazy 🥰

3L!Joel: … go away

SL!Grian: all you Joels are the same 😭

-

3L!Martyn: Ren is the best

DL!Joel: no, ETHO is the best!!!

3L!Martyn: BLASPHEMY! Lord Ren the Red King is the greatest!!!

DL!Joel: well, I don’t see his face on your shirt! But look at MINE!

*they argue*

[newt-and-salamander]

Okay, so here are my thoughts on Secrets of Dumbledore based on what we recently learned from the synopsis:

Professor Albus Dumbledore knows the powerful Dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald is moving to seize control of the wizarding world.  Unable to stop him alone, he entrusts Magizoologist Newt Scamander to lead an intrepid team of wizards, witches and one brave Muggle baker on a dangerous mission, where they encounter old and new beasts and clash with Grindelwald's growing legion of followers.  But with the stakes so high, how long can Dumbledore remain on the sidelines?

First of all: “Secrets of Dumbledore” is a quite boring name (I mean a few people even (almost) guessed it before) but I think it’s practical. It can refer (obviously) to Albus, but also to Credence/Aurelius, Aberforth, Ariana, … and whoever might be a secret Dumbledore. (Jacob? Picket?!? Everyone, probably.) Taking into account the author’s ominous “answers are given” she once said about FB3, I believe in the end we will know how exactly Credence, Dumbledore and Grindelwald are connected.

Also, I wonder how much the film really will be about Dumbledore? “Crimes of Grindelwald” wasn’t really about Grindelwald after all. I imagine it to be about Dumbledore and his family in the beginning, probably some flashbacks, then he gives Newt some kind of a mission. The main part of the film could be about Newt and his team trying to accomplish that mission, and in the end (maybe when Newt fights his duel with Grindelwald), Dumbledore realises that not everything turned out as he planned (or did it?) and decides that “the stakes are too high to remain on the sidelines”. The question is if he will be able to openly move against Grindelwald, that depends on the blood pact and maybe on whether Newt is able to accomplish his mission. Or maybe, Grindelwald fighting Newt already counts as moving against Dumbledore so he will break the blood pact first? But I rather think, both Dumbledore and Grindelwald are too smart to break the pact on accident – we don’t know of the consequences they would have to face if they violated the pact, but I don’t doubt they would be terrible.

What made me frown at first, but happy after I gave it some more thought, was the idea of Newt as a team leader. Because – I don’t really see him as a leader. He’s a private and quiet person. But (and this is the good part) he is also an absolute expert for magical beasts. So, if he is to lead a team, it is certainly because of something beast-related! And I love this possibility. It’s “fantastic beasts” after all, and in my opinion, the creatures are the most magical part of the films!

What are Newt and his team doing on their journey? I can see two main possibilities here: a) looking for a way to destroy the blood pact, b) looking for a way to properly separate an Obscurus from its host. A blood pact seems to be a very powerful kind of magical bond/object, but let’s not forget that Harry managed to destroy a Horkrux with a Basilisk’s fang – so maybe there are other beasts with strong curse-breaking abilities? As for the Obscurus, we know that Newt has tried before with a girl, but she died. We just don’t know if this was because he hadn’t perfectionated the spell yet, or if he just came too late to save her.

So, who is on the team? Jacob for sure, I don’t know another brave Muggle baker. I’m also sure Bunty will come along as it was said that she will be much more important in this film, and she also is a beast expert. Tina? Hopefully! Nagini and Yusuf Kama? Probably, because otherwise, what would be their purpose (sorry)? Theseus? Nah, he’s a ministry man, I suppose he will concentrate on politics. (And I can’t really see him being bossed around by his little brother. :D But it would be lots of fun. Maybe he will be on the Berlin part of the mission because I don’t imagine lots of creatures living there.) Then we have the ominous Eulalie Hicks who has to fit in somehow, but we don’t know enough about her at this point to know whether she will rather accompany Newt or maybe will be more of a kind of advisor for Dumbledore. And, of course, I wonder if we will see Flamel again? He’s an alchemist, so maybe he has some ideas about how to destroy a blood pact.

Regarding “old and new beasts”, we will certainly see Pickett and the Niffler (they are just too popular now and can’t be left out. Also, I’m rather sure Newt won’t go anywhere without Pickett. The Niffler has proven to be rather useful, especially now that he can track Tina’s footsteps, hehe. Okay, stealing the blood pact also was rather useful I admit). I wonder if we might also see Frank again, maybe connected to Eulalie. I really hope to see the Zouwu, I just loved her and maybe that’s (part of) the reason for a trip to China? As for new beasts… I have no idea and I doubt that my current copy of Mr Newt Scamander’s book will be a great help because some of the creatures weren’t featured in it before they appeared on screen. But I’m sure we will see a lot of the Phoenix (Fawkes?) because it/he is clearly connected to the Dumbledores. And what about the Kelpie? It still appears a little strange to me that Newt’s scene with it in CoG wasn’t cut for time as it has no connection to the plot - unless it has and we just have to find out.

It is also mentioned that Newt and his team will clash with Grindelwald’s followers. It’s obvious that this will involve Credence who is going to have a scene with Dumbledore (I think Jude Law said something like that, about having a scene with Ezra set in Berlin?). I also really hope we will see a lot of Queenie and learn more about her motivation because although we were shown her reasons to join Grindelwald in CoG, it didn’t really convince me. I especially hope for a scene with her and Tina, but… well, let’s just hope, okay? Another one of Grindelwald’s followers who I think has a very interesting role is Grimmson. He’s an undercover spy (so there’s a lot of potential for dramatic scenes where he turns out to be a traitor and turns against the ministry) and also it’s implied that he and Newt have some kind of a backstory (although that also wasn’t too clear in the film, but you could learn from the script that he hunts down magical creatures – and that’s most likely the reason why Newt and he hate each other, although it’s possible they had some more personal connection in the past… maybe fought together in the war or worked at the Ministry and were both disgusted by the other’s methods). I personally think he would be a great antagonist for Newt because their hatred for each other is so personal and natural, maybe Newts has a stronger dislike for him than for Grindelwald (much like Harry hated Snape more than Voldemort). But well, we know that in the end it will be Newt against Grindelwald…

…and that’s a point that worries me. Newt is astonishingly capable of getting himself out of dangerous situations with the help of his beasts, and he has already once defeated Grindelwald together with Tina, the Swooping Evil, and all of MACUSA’s Aurors. If this epic battle scene in the end is a 1:1 Newt against Grindelwald I see… well I don’t really see a way Newt could possibly win this fight. He’s clearly a really capable wizard but duelling is not his main interest. It might be enough to trick traffickers and escape, but we have already seen him in the NY underground fighting Grindelwald and I don’t know how it would have ended for him if Credence and Tina hadn’t interrupted the scene. Let’s see how he get’s out of the situation this time (and nope, please don’t let anybody sacrifice him- or herself for Newt, I want them all to be happy and alive… but if somebody is going to die for Newt I assume it’s either Bunty or Theseus. But, as I just said, this is definitely not going to happen because I love them all very much, so there’s no need to discuss that). I just hope the film doesn’t end with a cliff-hanger like Newt being defeated and taken hostage… because I cannot possibly wait at least another two years to learn how they solve this. Also, I have no idea if – from a marketing point of view – that would be a very good or a very bad idea. I think everyone just wants to see Newt happily together with Tina at the end of the 3rdfilm, but… who knows.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on Secrets of Dumbledore up to this point. I am super excited just thinking about the fact that we will get photos and a trailer soon!

[herstarburststories]

illicit love

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader

Summary: Jensen loves you, but sometimes love isn’t the right thing.

A/N: Hey, guys! All we needed was a newish fic to say that I was really back, here it is! This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr 6k challenge. So glad you got to another millestone, honey. It's like I was posting my part for your 5k celebration just yesterday! xD Prompt in bold.

Warnings: age gap, cheating

Jensen Ackles kept squinting through the bricks of his memory in an attempt to recall where it all began. Maybe it was when he drove off the road he had known for years with the dumbfounded desire to take the trails yet traveled, threading his fingers through your hair on the night of September 7th. He could’ve chosen the easy out and say it all started to crumble with the first kiss, but no. The actor, father, and now horrible husband highly doubted that. No, as he unwound the convoluted wires in his mind, it wasn’t the first clandestine meeting that he saw as the beginning, not the first kiss or the primal stolen glances. It wasn’t even the lies or the way he pushed his body against yours in an act of illicit faith.

Like any grand mistake, it was way before that. Just like how the church not-so-gently advised, it all starts with craving something you never thought you would want.

It happened when he landed the job in a new series after leaving a fifteen-year-long rollercoaster, pushing away any real witness to the fact the old show that swallowed part of his soul was over. There was a certain shock of excitement misplaced by the fact he was going to be working with Eric again, and that the show was an abrupt change considering what he had been doing previously. Now, he believed it was his body’s particular way of telling him that — as the savage animals can sense rain or a calamity — this, baby, this is gonna change your life.

JENSEN ACKLES CAST AS SOLDIER BOY!

‘’Since when have you read comics?’’ Jensen arched his messy eyebrows at Dee’s curiosity about the Homelander and Soldier Boy panel making it to the screen. Shaking the comic book in his right hand slightly, he continued: ‘’Especially that kind.’’

‘’Never,’’ Danneel stated plainly, “but I have Google. It was pretty much the first thing that appeared.’’

‘’Well, Eric said that scene won't be on the screen. Besides, the portrayal won't be that Soldier Boy, but the original one who died in the war. ‘Course, he wouldn’t have died there in our show, but it ain’t the panel one.’’ He shrugged, bringing her closer to his side as she snuggled against him. ‘’There’ll be a bunch of Herogasm, which is basically drugs and sex. Just not with Homelander.’’

Danneel nodded at his explanation, humor clinging to her words as she added: ‘’Guess the only man I have to share you with is still Jared.’’

‘’Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into.’’ Jensen scoffed playfully before kissing her cheek. ‘’Can't wait to start the show.’’

Jensen leaned forward to rest the comic that he had been religiously studying to form a psychological character profile on the dashboard of the Impala. The actor was spending plenty of hours inside his most palpable Supernatural souvenir -- Baby. His safe place. He sure as hell needed one of those, as molding a whole character that has a bunch of source material wasn’t as easy as he pictured. With Dean, he was putting himself and the script in one until it made his imaginary best friend. It was love at the first sight. Soldier Boy, however, was a long story short. Jensen figured he should do both, honor the character created and add his own special ingredients to it. It was a brand new kind of passion that he hadn’t done for a series in the longest time. Still, his glance trailed back to the woman by his side in the backseat.

‘’Let's hope it won't last another decade,” she mocked.

Jensen shook his head with a chuckle, relaxing against the leather seat. Even the mere smell of the Impala was enough to settle his nerves. ‘’Eric has plans for five seasons.’’

Danneel’s features contorted as if having war flashbacks. Sort of. She never imagined Supernatural would make it that far, and now with three kids, signing on for another excessively time-consuming idea for a new show didn’t seem too appealing either. Yet, she would support Jensen in any decision he’d take regarding his job. “Remind me the last time I heard that line before?” 

‘’Come on.’’ He let out a wry huff, poking her side in a playful manner. She couldn't help but laugh, returning the gesture with tickles to start a very light-hearted battle. He seemed happy with the new job, something Danneel truly thought he would have more difficulty with. She’d pushed her weathered worries away with his easy-going laughter for now.

SOLDIER BOY’S LOVE INTEREST?

Eric Kripke threw the gossip magazine on the table, his eyes not straying from his long-time friend’s. He could’ve simply added the digital article to an irate email and be done with it, but he was a simple man with extravagant taste. That had been usual through his whole career, especially regarding the Supernatural aesthetic. Yet, in those mundane situations, Jensen almost found it too much. That wasn’t the case, though. If anything, the plain, yet still overpowering words that his green eyes scanned made his body sweat. He could even hear his organs working from the absolute silence of the blame that covered the room. Kripke’s room had never seemed more like an interrogation chamber than now.

The magazine in question held Jensen and your picture on the cover, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you close. The most sequin smile hung from your lips like happiness was something that could be touched on that sunny day in the private park near the studio. Giant and garish letters made the headline along with the subline: Jensen Ackles wearing his Soldier Boy costume caught sharing a passionate kiss with the new arrival of The Boy’s Team: Y/N Y/L/N, also known on-screen as Cangaceira!

His voice came out as an accusation: ‘’What’s this, Jensen?’’

‘’We were…’’ The director just waved his hand to interrupt.

‘’Don’t try saying you were practicing a scene because I wrote the Soldier Boy and Cangaceira kiss, and it wasn’t here.’’ Acid tainted his words with no space for fake niceties on his set. Jensen remained in the chair, not even daring to make the most subtle move. Eric knew where he was hitting, and Ackles deserved a punch in the jaw. “The sex scene wasn’t here either, but you two added a lot of erotic subtext. Trust me, I know.’’

His shoulders fell in exhaustion. ‘’Eric…’’

‘’You’re lucky we were going to make those two a couple anyway. I can just put the kiss here and save your ass. What if that wasn’t the case, huh?’’ the director continued, more interested in spilling out his anger than listening to dumb excuses. ‘’What about Danneel, Jensen? You have a wife and kids, for God’s sake!’’

The breaking point. Jensen rose to his feet with sudden frustration, a growl leaving his lips as he pushed the chair to the side with uncharacteristic brutality. How could Eric bring up his family like this? And how could Jensen’s heart not bring them up when he kissed you before?  It was all a fucking mess, and he had no choice but to choke down whatever came out of it, even if it was poison and spite.

‘’Fuck, Eric! Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it doesn’t pull me apart every time I go home and know I’m lying to the people who love me?’’ The vein on his neck popped as he spoke, emotion gushing thicker through his arteries than blood. Woe remerged under his skin as he swallowed dryly, resting his hands on the table and looking down. That wasn’t him. He had done a lot of things that weren't him lately. ‘’I have enough guilt here, pal.’’

Eric just glared down at the man’s outburst, furrowing before asking, ‘’What’s going on, Jay? You don’t just get up and cheat on your wife. That ain’t you.’’

He shook his head. ‘’I don’t know. Y/N’s just…’’

‘’At least 20 years younger than you,” he stated. ‘’Just starting her career and might be getting the homewrecker title if someone finds out.’’

‘’I won’t let that happen.’’

‘’How? You are gonna be more careful or will you cut it out and go back to your wife and three kids?’’ When Ackles didn’t respond, Eric sighed. ‘’Just stop this, Jensen. Let her go.’’

Jensen scoffed humorlessly. ‘’I can’t.’’

Kripke felt like talking to a teenager. He shook his head as he got up. ‘’Do you have any idea what you’re doing here? This could destroy your family, destroy Y/N’s chance to make a name when you already have your own. That’s selfish in all proportions, Jensen!’’

‘’I know, I know.’’

‘’She deserves more than this and —’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’You are gonna mess up everyone’s lives —’’

‘’I know!’’ He slammed the table and winced, turning around with his hands on his head. If only he could stop his thoughts for a second and reorganize his feelings. ‘’Do you think it doesn’t rip my heart out that I can’t love her?’’

‘’Who?’’ The burning question was ready to set everything ablaze. ‘’You can’t love Y/N, or you can’t love your wife anymore, Jensen?’’

He couldn’t love you in public. He couldn’t love Danneel anywhere. Love just escaped through his reaches when you spoke his name like a prayer, and it was time to accept that.

‘’Both.’’

NO CHICK FLICK MOMENTS: SOLDIER BOY AND CANGACEIRA TALK ABOUT WHAT TO EXPECT FROM THEIR RELATIONSHIP

‘’It's amazing to portray with Jensen. I’ve watched Supernatural since I was like twelve, which probably isn't advisable.’’ You chortled, answering the reporter’s question. Your body could barely contain your excitement under your skin, although, why would you want that? You did it. You got the job you had dreamed and worked hard for. To a bonus, you were working with Jensen Ackles! If there was someone that had earned the right to scream to the sky until your face was the color of the red carpet your heels currently stood on, it was you. ‘‘I was even a Samgirl!’’

Jensen faked a gasp next to you, a light spectrum surrounding the interview. ‘’Really? Me too!’’

You pushed his shoulder playfully while he chuckled. ‘’Anyway, I'm very excited to be here and portray a strong latina superhero. The representation’s very important, and to be able not only to cherish it, but to be a part of it doing what I love and inspiring people like me is… mythical.’’

‘’Wow, woman!’’ Ackles pursed his lips, clapping a little before shifting his gaze from you to the reporter. ‘’She likes the big words. I swear, dude. She’ll just come and in like, a casual conversation, say something like gelid or whilst, and then she's gonna say dumbass. Both sound smart as heck.’’

You winked. ''It's the accent. Makes everything sound nice.”’

Jensen nodded but was quick to sprinkle in an incendiary remark to his compliments. ‘’Yeah, I have never seen someone confuse coach and couch before. Go sit on the coach got a lot of wrong ideas.’’

‘’Hey, you sat on the coach!’’

‘’Because I’m a good boy.’’

You rolled your eyes despite the grin on your lips. ‘’Sure, mister hours-to-get-ready.’’

‘’Hey, plenty of face masks are needed to keep this — ’’ He pointed at his face. ‘’at fourteen.’’

‘’All I hear is that you’re old.’’ Your eyebrows knitted together. Jensen licked his lips at the sight. On any other day, he’d pick you up, say I’m gonna show you who’s old, and enjoy where your teasing had gotten you two, but he couldn’t do it now. You’d get what was coming to you after the event, perhaps even under the table if your dress allowed it, or in the bathroom, if you kept going.

The mischievous smirk on your cherry-stained lips proved that you knew what was going through his mind. God, you were his sweet death. Nonetheless, Jensen sighed dramatically and looked at the camera. ‘’This is what I have to deal with every day.’’

The reporter went on, happily surprised about how comfortable you and Jensen seemed together. Usually, new coworkers were timider around each other during interviews, especially when they were a romantic pair. The journalist decided to try getting a little sneak peek of the couple aspects of Soldier Boy and Cangaceira.

‘’It's definitely interesting.’’

‘’But not in the best way.’’ The only thing more messed up than Jensen’s relationship with you was the correlation between your characters. At least you and he had the purity of love, even if it was twisted enough to turn heads and churn stomachs

‘’Certainly not in the best way.’’ You agreed, bringing him back into reality as always. ‘’It's really nice to explore a couple that doesn't consist of two white people getting to it like most main characters of the shows in our current climate. It’s not the kind of relationship you should be rooting for — not because it's interracial or anything, that's pretty much the biggest, if not only, positive aspect about those two — but because they aren’t healthy at all, just as all main relationships in our show. It's not a romance series, and we certainly don't treat our couples like it.’’

‘’Told you she is the beauty and the brains.’’ His cheeks dimpled with joy and pride as he looked at you. Jensen knew how excitedly nervous you were about that interview. He couldn’t wait to tell you how great you were like you were born to sell dreams and magazines. ‘’But yeah, it’s a messed up relationship like any other in The Boys. After all, it's not a respectful, wholesome show. It's about gritty superheroes that ain’t got heroism. Soldier Boy isn't a good guy, and it translates in his relationship too.’’

You nodded in agreement, brushing his arm to keep you sane. ‘’It’ll be an interesting dynamic to see on-screen to our show standards, but it's not an actual picture of how a relationship should be.’’

THE BOYS 100TH EPISODE PARTY!

The glimmer of his green comet eyes caught your undivided attention in the throngs of people. The crowd had gathered for his family, his arm around his wife's waist as you both shared a tender, stolen look. You savored her wine and yearned for the man in her arms.

It was just a small celebration due to COVID’s lasting effects on public events. People from the set and their significants together were in the Ackles house for a couple of drinks, small talk, and a cake with The Boy’s comics printed on it.

‘’Aunt Y/N!’’ JJ tugged your dress, her mix of Danneel and Jensen’s features almost haunting your soul. Almost. You would never despise a kid for that — you didn’t even have the right to. If anything, JJ was the one that would graduate to hating you someday. You didn't have enough youthful stupidity not to know the risks of being in love with a married man. ‘’Auntie!’’

You leaned in the most that you could with the red skirt, glancing at the child. ‘’Yes, honey?’’

‘’That’s my new Barbie! I bought a beach one! She looks like you!’’ the blonde kid said with a childish joy that ached in your heart. You could end up destroying her family’s stability if Jensen went any further, yet there she was; buying dolls that looked like you and so happily babbling about it.

You were a monster. Love opened you up and planted greedy seeds, and now you were a monster growing like a beautiful tree that could never be strong enough to hold a kid as they climbed up. The fact that you could sense Jensen’s eyes on your ass didn’t help one bit.

‘’She does! That’s so cute, JJ.’’

‘’You can be her. I have one who looks like mommy, I’ll be her, ‘kay?’���

Your nausea was replaced by a pageant smile and a nod, and so you spent the night sharing longing stares with the dad and playing dolls with the daughter. It was a role that was never yours.

ILLICIT AFFAIR? JENSEN ACKLES SEEN ON THE BEACH WITH Y/N Y/L/N

‘’I can’t believe you did this to me, to our family,‘’ Danneel screamed exasperatedly as she threw her clothes in a bag and heart on the wall. Jensen just stood there, accepting the deserved fury. ‘’Ten years of my life, Jensen, and you just threw it away for a mistress! I gave up on my job to be a stay at home mom because you didn’t want a babysitter. I supported you in every moment. I loved you!’’

‘’I’m sorry…’’

‘’You don’t get to be sorry,” she howled, glaring at him with the hatred of an overthrown nation. She felt like he got to the podium and forgot to say her name. ‘’You let that woman get in my house, drink my wine, talk to my children…’’

Reflexively, he said, ‘’Our.’’

‘’Shut the fuck up! There’s no ours anymore, no us!’’ Her words had garnered a learned violence, much louder than the sound of the zipper closing her duffel bag. She threw the CC exclusive on the floor, holding onto the handle for dear life. He didn’t deserve to see her breaking, only her anger. ‘’You destroyed our family, you destroyed me!’’

He pleaded, unable to discern if it was for her or the guilt: ‘’Dee.’’

‘’I hope you’re happy. I hope you go to her, get her to sleep on our bed, and be happy for a month.’’ She gulped, pursing her lips. Her glossy eyes coupled with the pink hue of her lipstick brought back a treacherous memory of their wedding day. ‘’And then, I hope she cheats, like you did to me.’’

The next headline didn’t call it love.

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[jackie5656]

🎄Fa-la-la-late🎄 With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N:Ummmm...hello? First off, thank you all so much for the love on my last couple imagines. Sorry for the hiatus, what can I say junior year is as hard as they say it is. Anyway, I was supposed to be sleeping last night but I was writing this instead. Leave it to me to become inspired at the worst times. This is for everyone celebrating a holiday this year without your family because of the pandemic (which is still a thing btw.) Also, this is very long but I love it. Okay enough talking, enjoy!

TW: None except...Well, Klaus is Klaus. And more random POV change bc I can!

He’s running, sprinting really, brown bag tucked haphazardly under his arm as it’s contents jostle around inside with his movements. Filled with last minute groceries for the evenings event. Never in Diego Hargreeves’ life had he thought he’d be rushing home in preparations for a Christmas party, in a red sweater for that matter. But what can he say, a year into his relationship with her and he’s officially whipped. Ever since the two of you met you had introduced him to an enormity of things he’d never considered important. Whether it be birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, you’ve added so much more to him that he could never really repay you for. So, he figures making a very last minute trip to the ever so crowded grocery store on Christmas Eve is worth it. Having to deal with other crazed and unprepared city people for three types of cheeses, four types of crackers, and a particularly expensive bottle of wine.

Apparently a Christmas party, or any get together for that matter, is simply incomplete without an assortment of appetizers. Right, Diego Hargreeves hosting a Christmas party for his siblings. The same ones who only learned about holidays in their World Culture textbooks during hours sectioned off on their daily regimen instead of actually celebrating them. The biting cold reminds him of the lonely Christmas’ throughout his life, which was at the time any other day of the year to him. He snaps out of the dark thoughts when he realizes he’s made it up the stairs and to the front door, a chorus of clanging pots and curses coming from inside.

He fumbles through the door, reminding himself he’s supposed to be rushing, but the beautifully decorated apartment distracts him from the task at hand. The warm feeling he’s still getting used to fluttering through his stomach as he recalls when you first surprised him with the holiday decor.

“It’s not too much, right? I know you never really celebrated Christmas, and neither of us are religious but my family always made the holidays a big deal and I thought-”

“You did all this?” His brown eyes are wide, gazing up at the assortment of twinkling lights aligning the interior of your shared home, a beautiful tree full of red and green ornaments in the middle of your living room. It’s stunning, to say the least, and Diego’s sure he’s never felt so much at home as he does now.

You’re gazing up at him, eyes nervously darting between your boyfriend and the assortment of ornaments. He walks forward from the entryway to admire the garland above the fireplace and the evergreen that just barely scruffs the top of the ceiling. It’s all new to him, and a bit overwhelming, and suddenly Diego realizes the resentment he’s held toward the holiday ever since he was a child was completely misguided. Because the joy he feels now, the warmth tingling throughout his body is foreign but so comforting.

“You hate it, don’t you? Listen, I just thought maybe I’d try and show you Christmas isn’t all about consumerism and selling shitty-”

“It’s beautiful.” He interrupts again, and you swear there’s a moisture begging to leave his eyes as he finally looks to you with an awed expression.

“I don’t, I’ve never...I always hated Christmas. I guess because I never had a real family as a kid. But this, this is j-just...Thank you.”

*End Flashback*

“You’re late!” You shout as the front door bursts open, a familiar thud of boots kicking snow off their bottoms and then walking towards the kitchen. Diego walks in with hands full with groceries, hair wet and messy with flurries of snow littering the raven strands. You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, dopey smile on his face as he sets the bags down on the counter.

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d still be grumpy at the fact that we’re hosting.” You’re less than presentable at the moment, having been cooking all day and leaving getting yourself ready for last minute. You puff a stray hair out of your face as he responds.

“Nothing, and actually I am still upset that my siblings are coming over.” He leans against the counter as you unpack the groceries, eager to finish up so you can look a little less crazy when the remaining Hargreeves arrive. Diego is still staring at you, grinning fondly at how flustered you look. And although he’d rather not have you meet his brothers and sister, you deserve to know why he’s keeping you from meeting. After all, it’s been a year since you’ve been together, and he’s met your family already.

It’s different though, because although they too have their issues, your family isn’t a dysfunctional pack of emotionally-stunted freaks. He’d much rather protect you from their intrusive antics. The warm feeling fades as he realizes what’s to come. He appreciates your optimism, truly, but he suddenly can’t shake the feeling that they’ll manage to upset you and ultimately screw up what you’ve been preparing for all day.

“A little help please?” You ground him once more, gesturing to the bags beside the both of you and the assortment of trays of food on the counters. Diego grabs onto your sides when you try to brush past him to check on the turkey, ignoring your incredulous look as he presses his body against yours.

“There’s still time to call this all off, you know. We can watch all the cheesy Christmas movies you want, and have dinner all to ourselves.” His eyes are hopefully looking into yours, the persuasion in his tone hinting a part of him isn’t really joking.

“Absolutely not. Di, we’ve been together for a year now. I want to get to know your siblings. Besides, you met my family and they loved you!”

“That’s different y/n, you’re family is...Well, they’re not like mine! You guys are normal! My brother is a moon-obsessed, half monkey moron and my sister is a mind-controlling movie star.” You can’t help but giggle at his words even though his frustration is adamant. He backs away from your embrace and runs his a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself down. The sudden thought of one of them being too pushy or making you upset is overwhelming him now. If it’s one thing he’d like to keep you from, it’s the bad side of him his siblings tend to bring out.

“Diego.” Your voice is soft now, you’re using that love-laced tone that always makes him feel like he’s melting. He shivers as you get closer to him, still somehow getting used to the effect you have on him. And although you don’t notice, you seem to be aware you’re calming him down. “I’m scared too, I don’t want to mess something up or embarrass myself in front of them. Hell, your little-or...Older brother is a time traveling assassin who’s kind of a genius. It’s intimidating definitely, but they’re your family Di. I know you hate to admit it, but they’ve played a huge role in who you are. And even if a lot of times you resent each other, it’s clear you love them.”

He’s gotta admit, you’ve always had a way with words. “Fine, what can I do to help beautiful?”

“you can start with setting the table so I can get ready and actually look beautiful. And use the good China!” You plant a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing off to the bedroom, silently praying the anxious won’t drop a plate or two in the process.

****************************

“Baby, does red or white wine go with tur-woah.” You’re doing some finishing touches on your makeup when Diego walks in, honey brown eyes shamelessly looking over your figure with a smirk as he now leans against the door frame.

You roll you eyes at his ogling, but can’t help smoothing down the silky olive green fabric of the dress your wearing with a pleased smile. Gold jewelry adorns your neck and ears, with matching gold heels to bring the look together. The red of his sweater (he so stubbornly obliged to wearing) compliments the green you're wearing beautifully. A year ago, Diego wonders just how much it would take him to put on anything other than black.

“Cmon, they’ll be here any minute.”

As if I’m cue, the doorbell of the apartment rings. You rush to the front door, Diego trailing behind as he reminds himself how important the evening is to you.

“And remember, no knives.” You whisper to him, turning back around and opening the door.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten!” Klaus pushes through the entryway excitedly, tackling you in a hug in greeting. Luckily, you’ve already met the most eccentric sibling of the bunch. As he often crashes at your place, much to Diego’s disliking (or so he says).

“My my my, that dress is to die for! I’ll be borrowing that soon. And those heels! Please tell me we’re the same siz-”

“Alright bonehead, you can steal her stuff later. Take yourself and the booze to the kitchen.” Diego interrupts, shrugging when you slap his shoulder at his bluntness.

Greeting the rest of the family goes better than expected. Allison and Luther arrived together (an innocent carpool of course) whilst Vanya had come just a few minutes after Klaus, happy to see she wasn’t the first to arrive. She brought along with her a homemade dish, Allison with a top notch bottle of champagne, and Five with a box of Griddy’s  donuts and...Coffee? His odd choice of food making the perfect ice breaker, to his confusion of course. 

“Alright, enough small talk. Diego, how much are you paying this lovely lady to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Klaus interjects your conversation about current events as the rest of the table looks to the pair of you and laughs. 

“Seriously, Allison couldn’t even rumor someone to be this good of a cook,” Luther chimes in. Not having looked up from his plate for a majority of the meal.

Although slightly offended, Diego realizes his siblings have a valid point. You’re blushing crimson as you laugh along, shaking your head and nervously rambling on about when you just last week almost burnt the apartment down trying to perfect said recipes. He’s entranced as you speak, admiring the way you seem to capture all of them with unknown ease. Unknown, truly, because you’re still too modest to see how perfect you are. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’ll spend every day trying to even out the impossible score. It's known he can be quite the competitor. 

“I’m just shocked he’s out of black for once.”

“Says the 45 year old in a school uniform!”

                                          **********************

“Alright, I’ll clear up dinner so we can start dessert.” Y/n announces, just in time to halt a three-way argument between her boyfriend, Luther and Five about some Academy mission from when they were kids. The evening has been lighthearted for the most part, with a majority of the conflict being steered off by Allison or Vanya. The two practically experts at distracting their egotistical brothers. You catch on as they do so, the three of you having shared a few sly smirks between one another a few times throughout the meal. 

“Please y/n, let me. You’ve done more than enough tonight. Besides, I need someone to test out that wine for me.” Allison assures, kicking Diego’s shin and motioning to the kitchen when you’ve given her an appreciative smile and inquired Vanya on her violin skills. 

Allison’s knife wielding brother shoots her a look of shock at her actions, trailing along confusedly after her. Your empty plate and his own in hand as he sets them down in the sink. 

“What the hell? Why-where-you-hiding-her-from-us!) The curly haired woman emphasizes each word with a smack of a stray dish towel to his arm, sure nobody can hear them over Klaus’ obnoxious storytelling back in the dining room. 

“Quit it! I wasn’t hiding her I-I was protecting her from you shitheads.” Diego defends, once again bewildered by his sister’s playful outburst. 

“Diego! She’s amazing, you should’ve introduced us forever ago.” 

“Right, she’s amazing. What do you not get by the word protecting? If you all had met her any sooner you would have scared her off!” He flails his arms as he speaks, unaware of his flushed cheeks as his sister smiles fondly at him. 

“What now Allison?”

“You loooveee her.” She poke his side as she teases, chuckling again when he swats her arm away. The scene is childish, but something about the heat rising through his neck to the tips of his ears makes Diego feel like a kid again. Allison teasing him about girls, just as they had when they were young. 

“Wh-whatever. Yeah, I love her. Can we go back to the table now, or should we paint our nails and giggle about how totes adorbs Luther Looks in that coat?” They both laugh at his mocking, leaving the room and too giddy to remember the discarded plates left behind. 

                                      ***********************

“An espresso machine? Wow, Columbia-brewed K-cups too! You shouldn’t have y/n.” Five is beaming at the gift in hand, wrapping paper still hanging off the side of the box as he admires the machine. His siblings stare confusedly at his jolly demeanor, and he immediately clears his throat before giving said girl a curt nod. “Thanks.” He deadpans, and you laugh with a nod at his change in demeanor. 

Luther and Allison have already opened their gifts, the burly man pointing to his miniature moon replica and lecturing about the craters and valleys to an extremely bored Klaus. Allison has already put on the elegant gold charm bracelet you’ve given her, rolling charm with Claire’s initials and birthstone on it with glossy eyes. Beside her, Vanya delicately peels the wrapping off to a freshly polished violin case, her name inscribed in cursive on the top. 

“It’s beautiful. I-I’m so sorry we didn’t get you anything. If I had known-”

“Nonsense V, I’m just glad you could all make it tonight.” You reassure with genuine smile, glad to see her positive response to the nickname. 

“I still can’t believe you got them gifts.” Diego mumbles from behind you, having climbed over the back of the couch you’re all sat on to have you sit between his legs. He kisses your temple and wraps his arms around your middle, softly humming when yo lean into him. The fireplace is crackling, and the record payer you love dearly quietly plays a Perry Como Christmas album. You close your eyes, taking in the warm feeling and relaxing in Diego’s touch. The two of you jumping when a shout comes from beside you.

“My turn! My turn!” Klaus claps loudly to grab your attention. You chuckle at his childish ways, leaning down to pick up the wrapped present at your feet and handing it off to him. Unlike the others, he eagerly rips apart the wrapping, gasping dramatically when he lifts up the skirt. 

“You’re a bit hard to shop for, there’s a gift receipt if-” The excitable man scrambles up from the floor tug on the fabric, twirling around in it in a fit of giggles before you can finish your statement. 

“Great, he’ll never take that off.” Diego mumbles in your ear, you shake your head with a smirk at his teasing before you’re reminded of something.

“Oh! And one more thing.” You note suddenly, climbing out of Diego’s hold as he huffs reluctantly. You pull a a final present from under the tree, secretly handing it to Klaus to make sure the others don’t see. Though they’re too enveloped in conversation to noticed.

“Another one for me?” He whispers happily, eyes furrowing when you shake your head. Sitting back down in Diego’s arms before you explain. 

“No, well...Yes, sort of. You’ll see.” You ramble, gesturing to the box in his hands as he apprehensively chuckles. You feel Diego’s eyes on you, deciding to place a peck on his jaw instead of elaborating. 

Klaus pulls out a pair of books, readig the well-known titles before looking up at you. You motion to the box once more, biting your nail as he sets them aside and reaches in once more. He pulls out  picture frame with a sharp intake of breathe, hand going over his mouth as he looks up at you once more. Your boyfriend, eager to see what has silenced his rowdy brother, takes the frame to inspect it. 

It’s a picture of him, Klaus, and Ben on the front steps of the academy. Having to be only five or six in the photo. Klaus has an arm around Ben, smiling big for the camera as his brother offers a smaller, but no less genuine grin to the lens. Diego sits a step above them, mouth frozen open in a laugh as he must of been reaction to something only Klaus could make him react so much at. 

“I remember Di telling me Ben read a lot. And...Well, it felt wrong to get everyone else a gift but him. Those are two of my favorit-”

“Wh-Where did you find this?” Diego whispers, arms encircled even tighter around you as he holds up the frame in shock. 

“When we were moving in. I found it at the bottom of one of the shelves at your room at the gym. It was under a bunch of old books you had, I figured it could use a frame.” Just as you finish, Klaus practically tackles you in a hug, a soft hiccup coming from him when he pulls away. 

“Geez Klaus, it’s just a skirt!” 

“Can-it Luther!”

                                     *************************

“You think he’ll be alright?” You mutter from the bedroom hallway. You and Diego leaning against the wall, looking at Klaus whose passed out on the sofa. The others having left hours ago, but you simply couldn’t wake him at seeing how peaceful he was. The picture frame still tucked to his chest as he snored softly. 

“Trust me, he’s fine. I think he’ll be sleeping in that skirt every night from now on.” Diego pulls you to your bedroom door as you laugh, the exhaustion from today finally setting. 

“Hey, would you look at that? Mistletoe.” Your head trails upwards to gaze up at the fruit being dangled above your head as you grin.

“Those are grapes Di.”

“Are they? Hmm, must be from that stupid cheese board I had to run across town for.” 

“It’s a chacuterie, actually. Didn’t you learn French Hargreeves?”

“Yep, but I only seem to remember two words.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?”

“Embrasse moi” He finishes as he connects his lips with yours, holding your face as if you might slip away when he lets go. 

“Smooth, knife boy.” You pull away softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Merry Christmas Di.”

[stillness-in-green]

When MVA/MLA Arc gets animated, what will you be looking forward to the most? What (canon-compliant) additions and/or changed do you want or think Bones should make, if any?

There’s--a lot.  Does that surprise anyone?  There’s a lot.

o  I have been foaming at the mouth for voice actor announcements for almost a year now, particularly for Trumpet, Geten and RD.           Trumpet’s superpower is literally his voice!  I mean, nothing about that statement requires that voice be particularly entrancing, but it certainly seems like it should be, right??             Geten is a boku-type in the manga, but that was literally the only hint foreshadowing his pretty boy face through 21 solid chapters of Pure Feral Gremlin.  Everyone was shocked by Geten’s face reveal!  How do you maintain that surprise value with an actual voice actor in the mix?  Do you not even try?  Do you play up the disparity--in which direction?  I can’t wait to see what they do.           And Re-Destro!  Re-Destro requires so much range!  From his peppy, silly businessman persona, to the urbane commander, from the overeager yes-man to the raving zealot--who on earth do you get to believably cover all that ground?  I can’t even begin to guess, but I am living in anticipation of that article going up on ANN or the official Twitter sources.

o  I’m also much looking forward to getting official coloring on Trumpet and Geten.  Skeptic seems pretty straightforward--black, black, more black--and RD and Curious, we have color art for, but I wonder if Trumpet will also be all black clothes, to go with that dignified politician image of his, or if he’ll get some color to pep him up a little.  What color are those tinted shades of his?  His eyes?  The wicked-cool Sevens Loud?           I assume Geten is all wintery shades, but it’ll be great to confirm which ones.  I mean, we all assume he’s white-haired to better annoy Dabi with family parallels, but what if he turns out to be platinum blond?  And are his eyes blue?  Gray?  White?  What color is that awful parka?           Also, Re-Destro’s stress powers.  Having been writing them as black since at least August--Rorschach test blots are generally black, after all, and they’re the clear inspiration--I would much like it if the anime would have my back on this.  They made Destro’s mask a dark cinnamon brown, though, so I’m prepared to be unpleasantly surprised in this matter.

o  Predictable MLA adaptational choices aside, I’m also eager/anxious about how they’ll handle Spinner’s narration.  What I really hope is that they actually straight-up hand him ALL the narration duties--not just the stuff he dictates directly in the manga, but also e.g. the name and quirk explanation material that Present Mic normally gets, or the previews that are always handled by Deku.           The opening and closing sequences are another big structural thing, of course--based on the flashed snippets of Hawks and Endeavor in both our current and the previous OP, I’m expecting we’ll see at least a bit of something referencing the upcoming internship arc (which I expect to close out the season), but I hope the villains just walk away with the closing entirely.  I want my slice of life villainy ED, dangit.

o  Another thing I’m eager/anxious about would be Kotarou, and the Shimura flashback generally.  There’s a brittle edge of to Kotarou that I really love, and I hope he manages to keep it in the anime, despite the anime being generally not so great at moments that I would describe as “delicate.”  For example, I’d like it if he doesn’t get a super deep voice, and if they could manage to keep his pretty face, and capture how deeply bitter and tired he looks in the scene where he’s reading the letter Nana left him.           Also, I hope they keep the little montage bits and, crucially, the changes of clothes the family goes through.  We see Tenko in no less than five, possibly as many as seven, different T-shirts through the course of that flashback.  It seems like a small thing, but it’s one of the factors that makes me skeptical that AFO gave Tenko Decay, when so many days clearly go by between the opening with the man at the door and the tragic end.  It’d be nice not to see too much resurgence on that just because the anime can’t be bothered to come up with more than one outfit for the Shimuras.

I have enough issues with the anime’s usual adaptation choices that I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high on the actual content of the episodes.  The staff is diverting too much of its major talent to the movies (BAH) these days for me to expect the whole season to look all that great, and it’s never been particularly creative or daring outside of its climactic sakuga-heavy fight scenes anyway.  I’ve also long had a bone to pick with its scoring decisions, and am already eyeballing the climax of the RD/Shigaraki fight and imagining the minor-keyed terrifying dirge I fear the anime will play there, at the moment that Re-Destro (and, shortly afterward, Spinner) are supposed to be experiencing something akin to religious awakenings.           There’s also the issue of the violence and gore--judging by how the anime handled the scene where Shigaraki and Compress maim Overhaul, I have some severe reservations about how much blood they’ll be allowed to get away with, particularly in the scene where the League brutally decimates that CRC group and, of course, Shigaraki’s backstory.  I’m looking at MVA to serve as a preview for how all the same issues will be addressed in the War Arc.

That bit of pessimism aside, as to what I’m hoping they’ll add or change?  Well, off the top of my head.....

o  I would love to get a full episode devoted to the time the League spends fighting Machia.  Not that first tussle, but the six grueling weeks in the mountains.  There’s so much you could add there for character building and atmosphere that Hori didn’t so much as montage through.  Where was their food coming from?  How’d they pick out places to pitch camp?  How much access to news from outside did they have, and how frequently?  What were the circumstances in which Gigantomachia “told them himself” about his great sense of smell??  Stuff like that!             I don’t think we’re at all likely to get this--honestly, the series of late has had enough of a problem with trimming bits and pieces that I’m as worried about what they might cut as I am hyped about things they might add--but the one thing that gives me some hope is the training camp arc.  Specifically, the moment 1-A first gets to the Pussycats’ forest, they get jumped by earth golems, a fight that the manga off-panels entirely, but the anime spends a modest amount of time on, giving the kids a little bit of time to show off their moves and such.  I’d love to get something equivalent for the League.

o  On a similar note, I wouldn’t turn it down if they fleshed out some of those running street fights a bit.  One obvious thing comes to mind: there’s a weird jump in the manga between Skeptic and a horde of his golems being all but on top of Twice at the beginning of 233 and then that fight just--doesn’t happen.  There’s no mention of it at all.  I think the suggestion is that either Machia’s appearance or the tower going down interrupted it--Skeptic breaks off from his fight the same way Geten and Trumpet do theirs, shifting focus to protecting Re-Destro--but it’d be nice to see the anime touch on it.

o  It’d be nice to get a bit of expansion on the nature of the bullying Spinner endured.  We’re told he was, but was it limited to verbal?  Did he get beaten up a lot?  Was there an online element?  Deku’s our only other reference point for “bullied kid,” and whatever one might think about the story’s development of Bakugou’s mentality, it’s been made clear in retrospect that there was a lot more too that than just the matter of Deku’s quirklessness.  I’d love to know how Spinner’s bullying looked in comparison (not least because of some of the theories about Spinner and Deku needing to come to some kind of accord to free Shigaraki from AFO).

o  Make the Villa (both here and during the War Arc) look more realistic.  By which I mean, I know Horikoshi is capable of drawing interesting and lived-in interior spaces--he has an entire chapter dedicated to it in the 1-A dorm room contest, after all--but he normally doesn’t bother much with it.  At UA, it’s not too distracting, because we know good and well that that whole building is probably maintained by Cementoss anyway.  Ditto places like Tartarus (intentionally, dehumanizingly barren) or the League’s post-Kamino hideouts (abandoned homes and industrial spaces).  But the Villa?            For heaven’s sake, it’s called a mountain villa.  It has a clear reception desk on the ground floor; it’s obviously some sort of high-end hotel, if not an outright resort or rentable retreat lodge.  Speaking as someone who’s worked in one, places like that don’t look as fuckin’ bare as the rooms we see there always seem to.  For fanfic purposes, I’m happy to go on telling myself that e.g. the pool and the bar and the restaurant(s) and the gym are in the building Cementoss doesn’t tear in half, but it’d be nice if the anime could class the whole place up a little, maybe put some real furniture and decor in the rooms that are in use.  (Yes, I know this is a ridiculous nitpick.)

o  This is less a change and more a correction, but for fuck’s sake, BONES, give us white-haired Shigaraki.  The climax of Deika is a solid time for it, given that it’s obvious in the manga that Shigaraki’s hair gets paler in Deika--you can see it in the way Horikoshi inks it (which is to say, the way he stops inking it)!  I think if we ever get white-haired Shigaraki in the anime, a somewhat better time as far as narrative justification goes would be when Shigaraki gets out of the tube in the War Arc; you could easily justify it as a side-effect of the surgery.  Still, I’d rather see it here.  I want white-haired Shigaraki, gleaming and brilliant through the scattering ash in that crater, a veritable angel of sacred destruction.           Honestly, more than anything, the crater sequence is the one I hope I love.  It’s probably my favorite single moment in the entire manga, as Shigaraki wins over Re-Destro, Spinner and Gigantomachia in the same moment, and finally comes into his own.  If they can at least nail that, I’ll consider myself pretty satisfied.

[regardingseas]

Ttile: Echoed Vexations (Part One, part two linked)

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)

AO3: here! (Full story at once)

•••

Plot Summary:

It's all too easy to turn a blind eye to the past-- to believe that because someone has been shielded from harm's way, they should no longer fear the wrath of their opponent's creed. They're safe now, after all, so why would they..?

Yes, Scar and Cub are certainly "safe", but they're still haunted by memories of the Vex and their deals all the same.

OR

An average afternoon during the HCB Base Swap is cut short when Mumbo accidentally digs up a remnant from Scar's Vex partnership days, and unfortunately for the town's mayor, the other Hermit is far from aware just how triggering the topic can truly be. Things only dissolve from there, and in the end, Grian lends a helping hand to console a friend.

•••

Additional Content Warnings:

Depictions of trauma disorders, panic attacks, flashbacks, paranoid thoughts/delusions, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, injury, and violence. Mentions of religious themes, unintentional self-harm, and non-permanent character death.

Do be careful, but otherwise, enjoy!

•••

The sun was still high in the sky even as Scar finished decorating the monument's support chains, sweltering rays beaming down and adding to the oppressive humidity of the jungle around him. With his usual jacket set aside to fight the heat, he wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead and grabbed a stray bucket from the sidelines. He'd nearly finished the waterfall aspect of the design-- crystal blue streams cascading over the edges of four white spanners, all joining together in the octagonal pool at the base's foundation. It was looking quite spectacular, if he were to say so himself, with the vine-coiled braces and additional water currents tying the otherwise juxtaposing themes together nicely.

Scar scooped up a fresh pail of water, filling it to the brim and hauling it towards the last pillar. He glanced down at the container as he carried it, catching a glimpse of his reflection from the liquid inside. His face shone red with effort, misplaced strands of hair having clung themselves to his tan skin.

Though unsurprised, he still couldn't help but laugh at the rippling image. "It's just my luck I'd swap with another jungle dwelling Hermit. I swear, I can never escape this climate for long. First the island last year, then all this."

With a shake of his head he returned his gaze upwards, continuing to muse aloud to the landscape before him, "You tropics are wonderful and all, but it sure would've been a nice change of pace to set up camp in somewhere like the mountains. Or pull total 180 and have landed in the tundras!"

Concepts for each design raced through his head, each idea fighting the others for dominance and tacking details onto itself, trying to land its place on the metaphorical pedestal of his imagination. A cottage with medieval influences? No, that would be far too typical, amp both of those components up. An entire village with a steampunk driven aesthetic, built into the mountainscape itself; no doubt with custom terraforming to integrate the buildings into the natural environment. That was more like it.

Scar could envision working windmills and waterwheels accompanying purposefully makeshift farmlands, historic blimps having reclaimed skies where they'd soar high overhead. Below them, eye-catching pops of colour, shining through as floating lanterns that hover above connective rope bridges.

As for the arctic concept? Something more grand would be ideal. In his fantasy, he'd created an absolute oxymoron of the words cabin and mansion jumbled together, and he adored it that way. A bottom floor made of bricked stone, the top made of logs and large windows to oversee the view. Accompanying them in the same manner would be a balcony, propped on columns that hugged the building and curved around its corners. The top deck would be open for clear days, and the space below it safe on harsher ones. Sloped roofs would be adorned with chimneys, and the interior warmed by cozy flames that were kept organized with inviting lofts. The living area could be split leveled, sinking down to create its own margin where guests could comfortably gather by the fireplace and--

There was a tug at his ankle, and next thing he knew, a bemused Scar went crashing to the ground, having been too caught up to notice the trailing plants blocking his footway. His hands shot out to catch himself, palms scraping against the concrete floor in a way similar to the childhood stunt of crashing and burning on the pavement. A stinging snapped up his arms, and the water bucket dropped from his grasp, clattering down with a metallic rumble before spilling its contents across the floor.

Scar pushed himself upright with a hiss of air through his teeth, shaking off his grazed palms and wiping them on his jeans. Pulling his foot free from the greenery and gathering himself up was no problem, what was a problem, however, was the troubling sight now before him.

The water had spilled all over one of Mumbo's redstone contraptions, causing the device to short circuit and emit a sort of maroon-grey smoke. The wires fashioned from the compacted dust had been all but washed away, any remaining pieces hanging on by threads and failing miserably whenever a signal attempted to fire; more so sizzling rather than surging alight with energy.

"Oh, crud!" he shouted, racing towards the machine and yanking on the shut-off switch to divert any further input from the broken setup.

It powered down, but Scar was still left swatting the coloured smoke from his face, coughing as the scent of burnt metallics filled his nostrils. When had he gotten so absorbed in possible building opportunities that he'd managed to miss the foliage in front of him? Why had he even been wondering so deeply about it, anyway? This event was about improving one another's bases by adding their own personal touches, not starting a new project entirely.

Scar sighed, he wasn't sure why his mind had begun drifting so far. He'd like to blame it on the wild imagination of a builder, but he had a feeling there was a little more to it. Sometimes, when the world wasn't too much to handle, it was too easy to let fall away. Maybe he spent too much time daydreaming-- he was sure there was a word for that, when trances became so all encompassing, so engrossing.

"But I don't have time to think about that right now," he reminded himself, "I really need to fix this. It doesn't look like most of this redstone is salvageable, I'll have to get new supplies to repair it. Maybe some of the circuits are okay..?"

Scar nudged a repeater with his shoe, the device making an unnatural sloshing noise in his attempt to change the feed-in. He scrunched up his nose, "Okay, nope, gonna need to replace that, too."

Running a hand through his hair in defeat, he glanced towards Mumbo's storage system before shaking his head. It wouldn't be right to use the other man's supplies without asking, let alone waste them on a mistake made due to Scar's own carelessness. He'd have to make his way back to his original base and gather the materials from there once more. When he dropped by initially, he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, but apparently hadn't accounted for dissociation-induced redstone mishaps.

"I guess we're making a trip back," Scar announced to no one, finally picking up the empty bucket to set it safely aside. He made his way over to his tent, temporarily discarding any excess materials and bidding adieu to Jellie before grabbing his elytra and setting off.

Taking to the skies, Scar squinted against the wind as it roared in his ears. His hair parted itself from where it had stuck, short locks brushed back by the flowing breeze. With arms extended for balance, and maybe a dash of amusement, he lit his rockets and propelled himself into the distance.

-----

It wasn't long before he encroached on his base again, allowing his faux wings to glide him downward where he kicked out his legs to come to a soft landing. Scar stopped before the massive drill site just on the outskirts of the forest, heading towards the agglomeration of crates and boxes he had haphazardly stowed aside. He was certain there had to be the necessary hardware in one of the many containers, though which that may be was lost on him. At least, thanks to Mumbo and his new storage system, the chest monster he'd created would soon be a thing of the past.

"I wonder how that's going for him..." Scar pondered, striding over to a random shulker and beginning his sure-to-be protracted search.

"Scar?" a familiar voice interrupted, making him peer ahead to see the moustached man himself rounding the corner. "Hello there! I see you've made yourself rather at home at my base," Mumbo teased.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "That I have. I just needed to stop by and pick up some redstone and iron. With all the ore this place has quarried up, I was sure there's bound to be more of that here than back at Larry."

Mumbo faked surprise with a hearty grin, "Getting into mechanics, are we? Have the inner workings of the temple really had that much influence on you after only a few days?"

"Now I wouldn't say that," Scar shook his head and closed the lid of the grey shulker, seeing no point in hiding the truth. "I took a tumble holding a bucket of water and it kinda spilled on one of the contraptions. I'm sorry for the trouble-- but don't worry! I came here to fix it right up. I just didn't wanna waste your materials fixing my silly error."

The suited man waved his hand dismissively, "Nonsense, it's no trouble. Have you seen the improvements you've made to that place? I mean, of course you've seen them, you built them, but rhetorically speaking--" Mumbo cleared his throat, "Just don't fret over it, I trust that you'll have it fixed right up in no time."

Scar smiled, "Thanks, dude. Now I just have to find where on Earth I put those ore…"

Mumbo gave another laugh, "You know, you can feel free to use some of my things if need be. I have no idea how you expect to find anything in this mess. I'm only trying to do a basic look through so I know where to begin when it comes to the item sorter, but even that doesn't seem to do much good. I swear, it's like trying to play a very intense game of memory, with thousands of nonsensical cards all scattered about."

Scar snickered sheepishly at the comparison, "Yeah, no kidding. But being able to use some resources without flying all the way over here would be great. Thanks again, Mumbo. I don't know if there's anything you'll need here while working, but hey, consider it free range. We're doing these things for each other in the long run, anyway."

"I'd say, 'unless we don't switch back our deeds', but in all honesty? I'm beginning to miss the ol' living monument already."

The two exchange a chuckle before returning to their previous tasks, both going back to digging through the pile of chests in preparation for their projects.

It took longer than Scar wanted to admit to finally find the crate stocked with valuables-- sighing in relief at the sight and immediately beginning to pile the items into his inventory. There were pre-smelted metals from an iron farm, so he didn't have to bother with the ore, and the redstone he'd gathered was already in dust from, meaning all he'd have to do was craft the items after returning.

"I wonder if it would've been easier to stop by the shopping district and buy these directly, instead of making them by hand..." he said, "Oh well, saves on diamonds, and these had to be used some time, I guess."

"Talking to yourself over there?" Mumbo asked.

"Just thinking aloud is all."

"I see," the moustached man nodded, pushing himself up from where he'd been examining the supplies. "I found something neat from last year! Do you wanna see?"

"Sure!" Scar agreed, setting aside his intent of flying back in favour of seeing what it was Mumbo had to show him.

He smiled and stepped over to Scar, holding out a faded piece of paper for them both to see, "I found it stuck to the bottom of a shulker box! Can you believe we used to be competition so recently?" He joked.

Scar could only stare at the advert before him, a steele blue page embellished with a vault-like ring in the center. It meant nothing to the untrained eye, but to him, all of the company's horrors were sealed underneath. ConCorp read bold text in half-connected lettering, the logo finalizing its signature with a black bow tie adorning the bottom.

"Hardly," managed Scar, having just remembered he'd been asked a question, "But it wasn't that recent."

"It was practically yesterday if we're talking business," Mumbo snickered, "but we aren't. I'm not very good at business."

"Me neither, I prefer mayorship," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

Mumbo, however, didn't seem to notice, only turning to stare at Scar with eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? You were quite literally the richest Hermit of all last year! You're wonderful at business. Sahara was amazing, and I don't for a second doubt it was the most ambitious project of our group to date, but she had plenty of bugs, being the machine powered industry that she was. ConCorp, however? That was an utter monopoly! The thing lasted two bloody seasons!"

Scar chuckled awkwardly, "I know, I know, Cub and I worked very hard. But it wasn't all us, we couldn't have done it alone."

"Give yourself more credit," Mumbo insisted, "I'm more than convinced you could have gotten your business up and running even without the help of your Vex friends. Weren't they less prominent in your company last year, anyway? You did change your guy's name from ConVex to ConCorp, after all. I think that would imply less input on their part."

"Not really," he explained, though the tension building in his body was becoming harder to conceal. He had to keep his arms rigid so that they wouldn't shake, forcing in deep breaths to avoid the shaky ones that threatened to take their place. "We just thought it would be better for business, rebranding to something more gentlemanly and all."

Mumbo nodded, "Ah, that makes sense. Though I still don't understand how you managed to work with them to begin with. I likely wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean business partners with the Vex? Friends, even? How'd you do it? Not to mention why? With all due respect, what makes one seek that out?"

Scar blinked hard at the influx of questions, "Oh, it's- it's really complicated, you might not understand. Cub started it, though. I joined the team not long after, but I wasn't there when he first struck the deal with Them."

"Huh, some deal," Mumbo remarked thoughtfully, and Scar nodded.

He had no idea.

"So what made you leave that behind?" Mumbo continued.

"What?" he asked, finding his thoughts hazy. They were static nothingness, but somehow also crashing into his skull. He found himself having to dig his way through them, while at the same time trying to bury them once he passed. The last thing Scar wanted was to do was hark back to the Vex, to beckon forth Their memory with his own.

The other man simply chuckled, oblivious to Scar's inner turmoil. "ConCorp, the Vex. Did you two just get bored? Having done the same thing for too long?"

"In a sense, you could definitely say we were tired of it. It just- well, it wasn't what we wanted to do anymore. We wanted to move on to new things."

"That's fair enough. Do you blokes still get along? Or did they take the corporation's end like a sour breakup?"

This time, Scar couldn't contain his wince. "We're still friends!" he insisted, "Of course the Vex are my friends."

Mumbo finally quirked a brow, "Are you sure about that? You don't have to worry about hiding some burnt corporal bridges from me, I'm not here to judge."

"Oh yeah, I'm positive," he nodded eagerly, "I'm just- I'm gonna go work on fixing that contraption I damaged, best to get it fixed before we have to switch back."

"Buddy, are you sure everything's alright? I'm sorry if I upset you or anything."

"Nah, I'm just peachy!" Scar announced with far too much false enthusiasm, internally cringing at his failed masking abilities. Not allowing any more time for his ruse to be cracked, he uttered a quick goodbye before adjusting the straps on his elytra and dashing off, leaping into the air and back towards the ruins.

"Scar, wait!" Mumbo tried, but he was already gone.

------

The returning flight was far from the peaceful journey he'd made to the excitation site. His artificial wings beat frantically, struggling to keep up as he charged forward with excessive firepower. He paid no mind to the safety protocol regarding the rocket's cool-down period, simply heralding through the air as fast as his elytra would carry him. Scar arrived back to the monument in a trip overall much faster than when he'd left, but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The entire excursion consisted of a battle with his own mind-- a war in which he knew he was bound to lose, but he had to hold down the fort until he was on solid ground.

Scar was lucky not to crash into the debris upon landing, frantically stumbling to the dirt and having to grasp onto a piece of wreckage to maintain his balance. His legs nearly buckled under his weight, form trembling in spite of the deep breaths he gave it his all to draw in.

He grasped hard to the rubble, trying to anchor his brain into focus. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral, he couldn't think about Them. He knew grounding techniques, and he tried to rush his way through them.

Five things you can see.

He could see the golden heart, plants, stone, the golden heart again-- the thing was too anatomically correct, he'd seen horrors too similar to it before. And the sound, it was too damn loud, too hard to ignore. Its unsteady rhythm hammering in his ears alongside his own faltering pulse.

Forget visuals, four different noises?

Scar squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to listen, focusing hard on the world around him. Still, he could only hear the heart. He could only hear it pounding, its once melodic notes like nails on a chalkboard. He could remember far too many times when he was left alone with nothing but his heartbeat and his pleas.

Tactile. Texture. What can you feel? Three things you can feel.

Internally, he screamed at his dulling senses to return. God, he didn't want to think about Them, it wasn't worth the risk. They'd been inside his head before, and the mere idea of having his thoughts broadcasted again made his stomach churn. Scar tried harder and harder to suppress the images bubbling to the surface, festering like maggots in an old wound. The more he tried to push them down, however, the fiercer they'd rise back up, and he choked down a sob in attempt to list the sensations he could currently identify.

He could feel the stone-- but he already said the stone, didn't he? He could also feel the sun. It was hot against his back. So hot. He was overheating.

The notes should have been a success, but the drops of sweat felt too akin to tricking blood. The sting of his hands felt too much like the friction burn of a rope. It felt too much like he was back with the Vex again, and as he finally sunk to the soil, he could no longer swim against the onslaught of memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.

They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still get him--

------

The day he and Cub first found the courage to try and cut ties with the Vex had been a hellish one, and the two men weren't even successful in their attempt. Hence, of course, it being the first.

Still, it had taken ages for Scar to persuade Cub that it was even worth trying, the other man having believed it was impossible to sneak anything past the Vex on their own. Scar was persistent, however, and eventually convinced his friend they had a shot if they played their cards right, if they made the right proposal without their intentions being discovered.

They'd constructed their plans in secret for weeks; discussing them only inside of untold locations with hushed whispers, or in the form of coded scrawls they'd burn immediately after reading. They couldn't be too careful, that's what they'd tell themselves whenever they worried their precautionary measures may be over the top. Even so, when a so-called conference was put on the schedule --such events were far from any type of cordial meeting, despite having been assigned the title of one-- the men were hardly prepared for it.

Their conference room consisted of a needlessly grandiose suite, with floors of marble and walls carved from deep umber wood. The polished lumber was adorned with expensive paintings in aureate frames; antique laden shelves taking up the spaces they did not. Aesthetically pleasing decorative tactics were discarded in favour of showing off their riches in a possessive cluster, with the only average items being the table and its chairs sat in the dead center of the area. A chandelier of gemstone and gold swung from above, dangling by the same chains fated to one day bind their vassals.

"Concordats, greetings!" A Vex declared as the men were led through the doorway, hovering in the air at the opposing end of the surface.

"Greetings," parroted Cub minimally, Scar giving a plain nod beside him. Fewer words meant less chance at letting their guard down.

"We've been needing to speak with you," a different Vex chimed.

"Speak with you about the business," yet another visitant confirmed.

"We actually need to discuss similar matters with you all," Scar noted, voice and expression a façade of tranquility.

"You do?" the first asked, wide smile replaced with inquiry.

"Yes," managed Cub, "we want to make you an offer, one you can't refuse."

"I do like the sound of that!" the second snickered.

"We'll hear your offer," the Vex grinned, "we only have one question first!"

"Of course, what is it?" asked Scar, in mental awe of how well their exchange was going.

"Do you recognize these?" it asked, gesturing towards the white table where a blue light flashed, fading away to reveal a small pile of ash.

Cub and Scar glanced to one another in evident confusion, the latter of the two speaking once again, "Forgive me, but we're not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, silly me!" the Vex giggled, another flash of luminesce encompassing the soot and leaving a stack of papers in its place. As if caught in a controlled gust, they blew from the surface and organized themselves midair; levitating in a cloud of magic.

All of their once burnt notes were lined up before them, cyphers needed to crack their messages included.

Still beaming with innocence, it continued, "How about now? Look familiar?"

The blood drained from their faces, and Scar could have sworn his heart was going to burst from his chest with how hard it was drumming. He wanted to wake up, because this had to be a nightmare.

"No, we have no idea what those are," he tried.

LAIR!

Overlapping voices screamed in his head, all sounding in haunting unison. Scar hastily clapped his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to silence the uproar emanating from within.

You try to break our contract then lie to our faces?

Foolish concordats.

Terrible secret keepers, terrible subjects.

Cub seized hold of Scar's arm and made a break for the door with the brunet in tow, reaching the exit and tugging desperately on the handles. They refused to turn under his grasp, and his eyes darted back towards the Vex; floating creatures growing ever closer to their imaginary bubble providing them with the illusion of safety.

More of Them were phasing in through walls, forms non-corporeal and having no need for the sealed entryway.

Apologize.

They all ordered, Scar flinching at the simultaneous projection. He lowered his hands and turned towards Them, watching Their unmoving grins with wide eyes.

Kneel before your gods and divulge your prayers, we may just show you mercy.

"I'm sorry-" Scar whimpered, but Cub was having none of it.

"No!" the man barked, "Screw this! This isn't worth it! None of this is worth it! He's right! The business, the money, the power, it-- it means nothing! Not when you treat us like this!"

They watched him step forward, his furious yells echoing through the expanse of the room, "We're done! And we mean it! You're going to get us go or else!"

An orchestra of shrill cackles filled the air.

Oooh, it's angry.

They're fighting back!

Teach them a lesson.

"You won't dare make another-" Cub's retaliation was cut short with a cry, the bearded man dropping to the ground in a swift crash.

"Cub!" Scar called, but his attempt to step towards his friend was met only with a searing pain through his legs and the subsequent buckling of his knees. He fell to the marble, limbs heavy as if they'd been weighted. It took considerable force to balance on his arms, appendages left shaking as he peered back up towards the Vex.

He regretted it instantly.

•••

(Part two)

[katehuntington]

Title: All I Want - part three Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (Bobby Singer, Castiel Mary Winchester and many more mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Series summary: Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than Lucifer himself. Summary part three: Still in shock after Y/N’s unexpected return, the Winchesters fill her in on what has happened in the past ten years. Learning about all the ones they have lost, is a little too much for her to take in. Warnings part three: NSFW, 18+ only. Spoilers season 14 episode 13. Angst, fluff. Swearing, alcoholism. Descriptions of flashbacks and memories. Mentions of character death, time in Hell, torture and nightmares. Anxiety, grieving over lost loved one. Confusion that comes with time travel. Word Count: 5377 words Author’s note: Part three of a multi part miniseries, based on the 300th episode “Lebanon”. Beta’d by the lovely @kittenofdoomage​, @winchest09​, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​, and @thinkwritexpress-official​​. Thank you all so much for your feedback!

All I Want Masterlist

     “So, long story short,” Y/N summarizes, “Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding piggyback, Cas pulled him out but forgot his soul. There was a civil war in Heaven. Cas declared himself God and released the Leviathan and when those ugly suckers were defeated, our angel buddy and you--” she nods at Dean, “- got sucked into Purgatory, which is a place that actually exists, apparently.”

     They are in the kitchen, seated at the four-person table. The hunters raided the liquor cabinet, all in need of a drink after the rather unexpected and staggering turn of events.      Y/N takes a shot of whiskey and puts the tumbler down on the varnished wood with a bang, shoving it across and motioning the older Winchester for a refill.

     “Meanwhile, Sam hit a dog and you escaped Purgatory, but Cas didn’t. Then there was this whole deal with the tablets and the trials, which almost killed your brother. You let an angel - who actually turned out to be a different angel - possess Sam in order to save him. There’s a second civil war upstairs…” She knocks back her head, downing the glass in one go. “I mean, what is it with those halo idiots? Haven’t they learned anything from watching humanity slaughter each other for centuries?”      “Y/N, I know this is a lot, but you need to slow down a bit,” Dean advises, but she snatches the bottle from his hand and pours herself another.      “I’m nowhere near done. Where was I?” She looks up at the ceiling of the kitchen for a second while thinking, until it comes to her. “Oh, right! The angels fell, you took on the Mark of Cain, beat that Knight of Hell chick Abaddon, then got yourself killed. Again. But, oh wait, it gets better! You woke up a demon and had a fun summer with Crowley.”      Her voice pitches a little higher, a hint of panic audible now. Dean watches her process the information which is so clearly overwhelming her and eyes Sam, who is fixing her something quick to eat behind the kitchen counter. Their gazes lock on each other, both men wondering in silence if telling her the whole truth was a good idea.

     “Sam cured you, but you still carried the Mark. You killed Death.” She laughs, cynically. “I mean, c’mon! Death! It’s ironic to say the least. Anyway, the Darkness was released, which - I kid you not - is God’s sister. Oh, and God? Turns out that horrible tween girl novel writer Chuck is actually the almighty creator! Ha!”      “Why don’t you eat something? You’re probably hungry,” Sam suggests, putting down a plate in front of her.      But Y/N isn’t interested in the sandwich and instead picks up her crystal glass again, having another royal amount of the brown liquor. Holding the tumbler to her lips while letting the whiskey linger in her mouth, she points her index finger at the younger Winchester now, who sits down opposite of the woman from their past.

     “Your mom is back from the dead, the British Men of Letters turned out to be stuck up dicks. Lucifer was sprung from the cage, became President of the United States, and knocked up an intern. He had a son, his name is Jack. How am I doing so far?” she rants, setting down the empty glass in front of her.      Dean looks at her, a worried frown drawing lines on his forehead. He knows her well enough to sense she needs to blow off steam. Interrupting her might not be his best move, but that doesn’t stop him from growing concerned about her current state of mind.

     “There was a rift between our world and this - this Apocalypse world, you called it? And Mary and Lucifer ended up on the wrong side before it closed. Luci killed Cas, Dean was sad, Cas came back. You guys went on a rescue mission, Sam got killed. Again!” She sighs deeply, burying her face in her crossed arms on the table. “Seriously, the amount of times you two have died is giving me a fucking headache.”      “Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam says, shooting her a sheepish smile before she continues.

     “So Apocalypse!Michael possessed you in order to kill the Devil once and for all.” She looks up again, focusing on Dean. “But he didn’t check out like he promised - shocker, by the way. He wreaked havoc here, then out of the blue let you go. And now you guys live here in this Men of Letters bunker with a Nephilim, an angel and your undead mother.”      “That’s about right,” Dean confirms.      Y/N lets a breath slip from her lips and stares past him absently, the gears in her head still on overdrive.      “I need another drink,” she eventually mutters, not even bothering filling up her tumbler, but taking a swig directly from the bottle.      When she sets it back on the table top and lets her fingers slip from the glass, Sam is quick to get up and take the bottle back to the kitchen, putting it away in one of the cabinets; she has had enough for one day.      “And I died…”

     The younger Winchester turns around and leans over the counter while observing his friend, his knuckles white on the surface. He studies the breadcrumbs that litter the stainless steel surface after he cut her sandwich in two, having difficulty addressing that topic. When Lucifer flung her into that wall with such magnitude that it killed her instantly, Dean lost the woman he loved, but Sam lost his best friend. He didn’t realize how he felt about her demise until after he got his soul back, which somehow made it even worse. Like he didn’t do her justice, didn’t mourn like he should have. He doesn’t have to reply to her words, though, because Dean beats him to it.      “On May 10, 2010,” he states, averting his gaze and focusing on his folded hands in front of him, still wrapped around his own whiskey glass.      The date is forever etched in his memory. Her mirage haunts him on a regular basis, but on the 10th of May she’s all he can think about, like a fog that refuses to lift at daybreak. It’s one of the hardest days to get through, the day that he misses her the most. Dean’s jaw flexes and he tries to swallow down the pressure that’s gradually building in his chest.

     “That’s - that’s in a year and a half,” Y/N stammers, after quick calculation. “At least in whatever time I’m from.”      “Yeah, just before the big title fight between the Archangels,” Sam confirms.      Y/N glances up at him, then back at Dean, who still can’t force himself to look at her.      “Who killed me?”      “Lucifer,” Dean recalls, venom in his voice.      Her brow lifts up at the reveal. She was killed by the Devil himself? Well, at least that would make a cool inscription on her tombstone.      “You guys salted and burned me, right?” she double checks, even though she cannot imagine the Winchesters giving her anything but a hunter’s farewell.      Dean pulls at his lip with his teeth, the memory of the burning pyre flashing before his eyes. He remembers it as if it was yesterday. The funeral that made sure her death would be irreversible, permanent. The sight of her body set alight. In order to stop the Apocalypse from happening, he lost his brother and his girl. Sam was suffering endless and horrific torture in the pits of Hell while she was going up in flames before his eyes. God, he was a mess. His brother came home, but looking back now, deep down Dean knows he never really recovered from losing the woman who will forever have his heart.      “I did,” he confirms.      I did, he said. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes Sam was gone too at this point; Dean didn’t even have his brother to lean on. Pitiful she watches the hunter, who has endured so much already. He lost the two most important people in his life in a day’s time.      “Then… how am I back?” she wonders. “You said something about summoning me?”      “We found a magical artifact called the Pearl of Baozhu. It grants your biggest wish, basically,” Sam begins to explain. “Apparently, it’s so powerful it doesn’t need remains to resurrect someone.”      “And I am your biggest wish?” She chuckles. “What? Not winning the lottery? Peace on Earth?”      A small smirk pulls at the corner of Dean’s mouth; oh, he missed her wit.      “No, it’s you,” he states after a moment of quiet, finally meeting her gaze.

     Astonishment silences her as she stares at him, the pain of having to go through life without her still evident in his eyes. He looks so much wearier than she remembers the tough hunter, the soldier who always marched on and kept grinding. Even after he came back from Hell, the experience that tore open wounds which bled even worse than those inflicted the night the hellhounds took him. Honestly, there were plenty of times she thought he would never recover, whenever he woke up screaming from another nightmare and she had to hold him until he calmed. And yet, he didn’t seem as burdened as he does now, and that is saying something. It’s as if time broke him down bit by bit as he grew older, until there was nothing left but a ruin. 

     Dean said it’s 2019, which means he’s forty years old now. His frown lines lay deeper, so do the crow’s feet by the corner of his eyes. There’s a scar on his chin that wasn’t there before, covered by his stubble. His hair is a little longer, but only by a quarter of an inch. Age has not done a number on him, because he’s still handsome, but trauma and loss surely have. Knowing that her own death had a substantial part in the neverending sorrow and guilt she knows the hunter carries breaks her heart, because if anything, she would never want to cause him such agony.

     “We were together,” she says, ending the silence. 

     It’s more a realization than it is a question, but Dean nods either way. Her jaw lowers slightly, her mouth opening, but she has no idea what to say. She was frightened when she heard she was on a collision course with death. But now she’s made aware that her future self and Dean are going to face evil as one hell of a power couple, that fear diminishes. She was a teenager when she first started developing feelings for the oldest Winchester brother. She never acted on it, the hunter’s life always getting in the way of their romance. But somehow, despite destiny, despite the horror show that is their reality, they found their way to each other. 

     Seeing just how much her departure wrecked him, she reaches out, moving her hand across the table to take his. She squeezes softly, running her thumb over his skin, rough from the many fights he’s faced. He visibly relaxes, cherishing the moment he never thought he’d have again.      Y/N forces herself to avert her eyes, aware they aren’t alone. She glances at Sam, who watches the two, smiling, but his content expression dissolves when she inadvertently turns the conversation in a harrowing direction.      “What about the others? How’s Bobby?” she wonders, oblivious to the painful reply that is to come.

     Dean’s face falls, closing his eyes in apprehension. Shit, he wishes he didn’t have to break the bad news to her. Bobby Singer was like a father to all of them, but Y/N spent the majority of her childhood under his wing. After her parents died, he took her in and raised her as his own, made sure she could go to school, that she could be a kid. Hell, he was her father, maybe not genetically, but he was the wise man who taught them that family doesn’t end in blood.

     Sam stares back at her, then swallows thickly, letting his head hang. Analyzing his stance, the smile on her lips dies down, frantically searching for an indication that says it isn’t so. When the tall hunter is unable to return her gaze, she fixates on Dean, tears already glazing over her eyes.      “Y/N...” He takes her hand in his now, trying to sooth her and cushion the blow, but he knows there’s nothing he can do that would take the pain away that is about to hit her like a freight train.      “No...” She shakes her head, unable to accept it. “No no no no...”      “I’m so sorry,” he says softly, his heart breaking as he breaks hers. 

     Her bottom lip begins to tremble, her face contorting as she fights the emotions that quickly overpower her. Shimmering pathways of anguish find their way down her cheeks, eventually falling to land on the wooden surface. Y/N wipes her cheeks dry, but it’s no use, new tears forming faster than she can erase. And so she brings her free hand up to cover her mouth, holding back a sob.      “W-when?” she stammers, her voice shaking. “How?”      “In 2012. He... he was shot,” Dean explains, trying to get the words across as gingerly as possible.

     She shuts her eyes now, her throat closing up and she bites her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to break down in front of the boys. She has so many questions of which the answers terrify her.      “Did he die alone?”      She barely dares to look up again, meeting Sam’s gaze this time. He shakes his head, offering her a comforting smile.      “No, we were right there with him,” he assures.      “He’s in Heaven,” Dean consoles, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. “Cas double checked.”

     Y/N nods slightly, sniffling as she digests the news. Knowing that he’s in a good place right now doesn’t stop the grief from tearing her apart, because she has no idea how to go through life without her mentor to council her, but at least he’s not suffering anymore. A shuddering breath escapes from her lungs as she collects herself.      “What killed him, is it--”      “- dead. Yeah, we made sure of that,” Dean guarantees.      “Good,” she says, her voice having gained some strength. “What about Rufus? Ellen & Jo?”      Sam sighs and looks down, painfully confronted with how many people they’ve lost over the years.      “They’re all gone,” he states, still leaning heavily on the countertop.      Shocked, Y/N stares at him, unable to believe how many have perished.      “So, of the original crew, you two are really the last ones standing, huh?”      “Yeah, I guess we are,” the younger brother confirms. “But we met some great people along the way, I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you. We’re not fighting the good fight alone, by any means.”      “Glad to hear that. Just, not today? I’m not sure how much more I can take,” she almost pleads, her voice raspy from crying.

     Dean watches her closely, guilt constricting in his gut. Unknowingly, he has pulled her from a time where things weren’t all that bad. If she’s from October 2008, he has just returned from Hell. Bobby was alive, Sam was okay, so were the other people she considered family. They were growing closer, on the verge of giving in to the attraction they felt for each other. But now it’s just the three of them and a ten year gap between her lifetime and theirs. She must be feeling completely out of place, disorientated, exhausted.      “Why don’t we go pick out a room for you, so you can lay down for a bit?” Dean offers, squeezing her hand gently to get her attention.      She agrees and gets up from her seat without another word, mentally too tired to argue. The alcohol is coursing through her system, and although she doesn’t feel highly intoxicated, combined with the range of emotions she just went through, it’s doing a number on her. Honestly, she’s down for a nap, preferably one that lasts a day or two.      Dean lets her go up the two steps first, ready to catch her might her coordination fail her after all. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, who picks up the untouched sandwich and carries the plate to the sink.      “Go ahead, I’ll clean up,” Sam offers.      Thankful, the older Winchester forces a small smile before he leaves the kitchen. 

     Quietly, Y/N follows the broad shouldered hunter who leads the way, her arms crossed in front of her chest, the coolness from the stone walls chasing chills up and down her spine. It’s not just the cold, though, it’s everything. Too much information to process, too much heartbreak to endure. Her brain is overloaded, fatigue hitting her like a ton of bricks.      She watches Dean turn the corner and stroll into a long hallway with doors on either side, gold plated numbers below the Men Of Letters emblem. They stop in front of room 12.      “You can take this one,” he suggests, opening the door for her and flicking on the lights. “I’m right next door if you need anything. Sam’s in room 21.”

     Y/N steps inside, taking in her new accommodation. Despite the use of mostly brick and concrete and the lack of windows, the glow coming from the ceiling light and the lamp on the nightstand feels warm and welcoming. A large mahogany bed is situated against the far end, a matching desk on the left with an old typewriter and a radio sitting on top. Directly behind the door there’s a sink and a medicine cabinet with a mirror on the lid, and a wardrobe next to it.      “We can put a rug on the floor, if you want. I remember how you always had cold feet,” Dean suggests.      She turns in the middle of the room, a small smile on her lips; he’s not wrong.      “I’d like that,” she says, grateful.

     A little uneasy she lets her gaze linger over the still empty cabinets and bookshelves again, feeling foreign in this future that didn’t include her, before Dean wished she was. She realizes there’s nothing to fill them with, no clothes, no books, no picture frames.      “Could I maybe borrow a shirt and some sweats from you? I’m gonna have to buy some new clothes later today,” she asks, a little flustered.      “Sure, but actually, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s nervous. “I never threw away your stuff. It’s been in boxes in the storage room, so your clothes are probably gonna need to be washed--”      “- Wait, you… you saved my stuff?”

     She stares at him in awe. It’s been almost ten years since she died, and he still held on to all that she owned. Sure, it wasn’t much, since they were on the road most of the time, but still. They didn’t find this bunker until a couple of years later, which means Dean had stored it in a locker somewhere, or maybe at Bobby’s, and picked it up again when they found a permanent home. He had moved her things around for almost a decade, yet never threw them out, even though he knew there was no purpose left for the items that once belonged to her. Just painful reminders of what was and what was lost.      “Yeah, I - I couldn’t really bring myself to throw it out,” he claims, as if he was dodging a task that should have been done long ago.      He isn’t lying. Even though he knew she was never going to return to him, that her life was lost and his love was hopeless, he kept everything she held dear. Her books, her mixtapes, her photos, her jewelry. The clothes she wore, the guitar she played. The stack of coasters she collected, picking one up at every bar they ever had a drink at, from every town they ever crossed. The old school Polaroid camera she brought everywhere, snapping pictures of everything that caught her eye along the way. Sunsets, funny road signs, captivating landscapes, interesting people. There are a few of him, of the Winchesters together, some more portraying the three of them, all squeezed into the shot. She even caught Bobby on camera, ignoring his grumpy mutters when she had fulfilled her seemingly impossible mission.      There’s the music box she got from her mother when she was little, her parents’ wedding album. Lore books, weapons and crystals that Bobby gave her when she first started hunting. The enchanted good luck charm Dean gave her for her birthday. He held on to it all, because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to let her go completely.

     Sympathetically, Y/N observes him. His tough exterior only lets a hint of embarrassment over something so sentimental seep through. But she knows him, she has seen the knight without his armor. She knows how badly he’s hurting.      “Anyway, I’ll - uh, get you some clean clothes and dig up your stuff from storage.” He points his thumb over his shoulder a little awkwardly, excusing himself.      She nods. “Thanks.”

     With a faint smile on his lips he disappears, leaving the door ajar. Y/N breathes in deeply and allows the air to flow out, trying to calm herself down. It’s her first moment alone since she found herself in the year of 2019 and she cannot begin to comprehend what is happening to her. How she time-jumped a decade into the future, having history with Dean she cannot even recall. It feels like she’s in a bad daytime television show, where one of the characters has hit her head too hard and suffers from amnesia, not remembering her lover.      Rubbing her forehead she turns around, trying to massage away the headache. Her eyes glide through her new bedroom again. This is going to be her home now. After moving out of Bobby’s place, she never really had that kind of stability. The closest she came to a roof over her head was her minivan, her little house on wheels. 

     Fingertips grace the covers of her bed, the material soft under her touch, when she hears Dean’s boots echo in the hall. She turns around as he comes through the doorway, holding two boxes with a bundle of clothes laying on top of the stack in his arms. He lowers the neatly taped carton containers to the ground, her name written on them with black marker. Dean made sure to file on the label what’s inside them.      “There’s one more box, your clothes are in that one. I can put them in the washer now, so you’ll have something better to wear than my oversized stuff,” he offers.      “You don’t have to do that, Dean,” she objects, but he shrugs it off.      “It’s no problem.”      His voice is kind, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. It’s the first time he has moved her belongings without having to fight the tears, without having to pause in order to stop himself from breaking down. He wants to make sure she has something clean and fresh to wear when she wakes up later, finally being able to take care of her again. 

     Dean turns the corner and heads to the storage room, his heart finally calming with the simplicity of being able to do something as domestic as washing her clothes. After picking up the last big box, he exits the storage and pulls the door shut behind him, making his way to the dorm where the washers and dryers are situated. He sets the box down in front of one of the machines, pulls his pocket knife from his belt and cuts through the duct tape. The first item he pulls out, however, steals his breath; it’s the leather jacket she wore that night in Detroit.      Two days after they lost her, Dean wrapped her in linen before he laid her down on the pyre he and Bobby built, her lifeless body still in the jeans and band shirt she had on when she was killed. He took off her favorite black leather jacket, though, wanting to preserve it, even though it was a part of Y/N - or maybe because it was. Traces of faded crimson still stain the collar. Dean shakes his head, trying to ban the image from his mind. The image of the blood running from her nose and mouth as she hung from his arms, dead weight, the spark of life in her eyes long gone.

     After a deep breath, the hunter collects himself and lays the leather jacket aside, then begins to carefully pick out some of her clothes. He makes a selection that fits in the drum, adds a laundry pod and turns the machine on. He hopes the old thing does a better job at washing away the memory of her death than he’s doing.

     When he enters Y/N’s room again, she has changed into the black shirt and grey sweatpants he offered her. She spins when she hears him, an amused grin adorning her face.      “Nice socks,” she chuckles, showing off her novelty footwear with burgers and milkshakes on them.      “Shut up. Sammy gave them to me for Christmas,” he utters, a blush on his cheeks. “Your stuff’s in the washer.”      “Thank you,” she returns, grateful.

     A silence followers as Dean lingers in the doorway. This would be the moment to give her some space and retreat to his room, but somehow he can’t make himself step outside. He has spent too much time without her by his side already, he doesn’t want to waste a second not being with the woman he’s still unmistakingly in love with. She’s his girl, afterall. But that’s where it gets confusing, because he’s not sure how she feels about all this. Y/N was zapped from a time where they weren’t in a relationship yet, so where do they stand in this messed up mayhem?      “Y/N, about that kiss earlier…” he starts off hesitant. “I, uh - I didn’t know you were from a place where we weren’t… y’know, together.”

     The smile on her lips dies down as she watches the hunter, skilled in the field when fighting evil, but now stumbling over his own words. It’s only now that she realizes how surreal this must be for him. His mind probably has archives full of memories she has no clue of, simply because in her time, they didn’t happen yet.      “What I’m trying to say is…” Dean takes a breath, trying to get his message across. “If I came on too strong, or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m sorry.”      He glances up now, watching how she slowly approaches. Gently, she takes his hand in hers, their fingers entwining. After studying their hold for a few seconds, she tilts her head and restores eye contact. The look she gives him is so warm and kind, it mends the broken man that he is.      “I’m not,” she responds, her voice soft.

     She leans in, tiptoeing, and presses her soft lips against his. For a good moment all his grief, the endless regret, the physical pain that became chronic, is forgotten. He closes his eyes and melts into the touch, returning the kiss without hesitation. The voices in his head are silenced, his anxiety calmed. After eight years, eight months and twenty eight days, he has found his missing piece. If her departure from his world didn’t make him realize how much he loves her, this moment surely does.

     The kiss lasts a few heavenly long seconds, but then Dean parts from her, resting his forehead against hers. He sighs deeply, the air leaving him with a shudder. Still high on the ecstasy that the undeniable connection induced, she opens her eyes, but his remain closed. Wondering why, Y/N squeezes his hand. When he does look back at her, the tears bring out his green irises, like holding an emerald gem against the light. Compassionate, she cups his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.      “You really missed me, didn’t you?” she perceives.      He huffs; she’s putting it mildly.      “You have no idea,” he breathes.

     Y/N does, though. Last thing she remembers is how Dean just returned from Hell. In the four months that he was gone, she was completely at a loss. Wildflowers blossomed on his grave from her tears alone. Knowing he was enduring unimaginable torment only made it worse. But when he returned and she was able to close him in her arms again, it magnified everything she had ever felt for the man who went to Hell and back. The rollercoaster he’s riding now is one she’s been on herself, but she doesn’t tell him that; it’s not about her right now.

     She kisses him again, shorter and more sweetly now, smiling at him afterwards until he returns her expression. His eyes are still shimmering, but it’s not sorrow she finds in the depth of his pupils, not anymore. It’s gratefulness, appreciation, love, for her, the girl he lost so many years ago.      “You should get some sleep. You had one hell of a morning,” he says after a quiet moment, unable to look away.      She scoffs. “Understatement of the week.”      He nods grinning, admitting she’s probably right.      “I’ll leave you to it.”      Dean is about to let go of her hand, when her grip on him grows a little stronger, causing him to glance up at her, questioning.      “Could you…” she pauses, not sure if she’s asking too much. “Could you lay with me, just for a while?”      He reads her carefully, pained to see the hint of fear; she doesn’t want to be alone.      “Sure,” he agrees, the single word soothing her.

     Y/N allows his hand to slip from hers now and circles the bed, folding back the covers as Dean sits down to take off his shoes. When he leans back into the pillow, his upper body still slightly elevated against the headboard, tiredness overwhelms him. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in forever, Michael always waiting in the shadows when he dares to close his eyes. But when Y/N crawls into his chest, filling the vacant place that has been cold for so long, he sighs content, letting the worry fall from his shoulders. Who knows, maybe with her by his side, he might actually be able to rest.

     She pulls the sheets to cover the both of them, feeling Dean’s sheltering arm wrap around her and pull her in. The kiss he presses to her hair has her bite back the tears yet again. She tries to hide it, not wanting to come across as weak or emotional. The man who has always cared for her, doesn’t fail to notice, though.      “Hey…” he says, softly. “You had a lot on your plate today, huh?”      She sniffles and nods, not brave enough to test her voice.      “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out,” he promises. “You got me, Y/N.”      “Yeah…” she whispers. “I got you.”

     Dean holds her close, giving her the security and the comfort she is desperately seeking, hoping she might forget about the world she’s in now and the one she was ripped from. Absently, he rubs his fingers up and down her arm, the slow, soothing rhythm lulling her to sleep. Within minutes she’s out, the warmth she radiates slowly melting away the tension in the hunter’s stiff muscles, tired and worn from endless battles with both monsters and himself. Exhausted, he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut as well. The last thing that crosses his mind before he falls asleep is a promise. Past, present, or future, Dean will always be there for the woman who makes him believe in their little slice of apple pie life. A decade of time difference will not change his word of honor.

It took me long enough, didn’t it! Stay tuned for part four, I hope I have gained some momentum now and will able to finish this series sooner than later.

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[demonicputto]

The Star

This is an excerpt from a much longer series, but it’s a Christmasy flashback and it stands on its own, so I thought I’d post it on tumblr for the holiday season. It’s based on Neil Gaiman’s musings on possible Christmas Special plots. 

Aziraphale paced his rented room in Bethlehem, wringing his hands and sighing heavily. He was accomplishing nothing and in front of him sat a stark reminder of what he ought to be doing. Gabriel had visited all of three days ago, looking, somehow, more smugly handsome than usual.

Aziraphale had been set up in Rome at the time, trying his best to exert some positive influence and also enjoying the wine. He’d known, with some vague detail, that Very Important Things were happening in Judaea but he had not been roped into any of that. This was an honor well above his current rank. No less than Gabriel himself had been charged with annunciating the child’s birth to his mother. When Aziraphale tried to picture it, he only ended up pitying the poor woman.

But no one much cared what he thought, and so he was surprised when he found Gabriel at his front door with a list of tasks and orders to pack up for Bethlehem.

“We’ll be back when the child is born of course,” Gabriel had explained. “The whole host is getting ready, but until then there’s a few things you need to get done. There’s just the rooms for the family, some general blessings to ease their passage, some announcing to shepherds, oh, and we’re going to send up a special star as kind of a message. Got the supplies right here, so you can get on that.”

So here he was, job only partially complete, and too much left to do. The child would be born two days hence and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to stop by Jerusalem and pay his taxes yet. A knock on the door set his teeth on edge. This was the last thing he needed just now.

“I beg your pardon but I’m quite busy at the moment, if you could come back some other time, I would…” He trailed off in shock when he saw who was before him. “Crawly!”

When had he seen him last? It had been centuries certainly, but Crawly looked very much the same as he had the last time they’d met. Long red hair curling down to frame his face. He grinned, probably pleased to have caught Aziraphale off guard, and slithered his way into the room.

“Thought I sensed you, angel. What are you doing in this backwater anyway? It’s not very interesting.” He peered around the house with interest, but his slitted eyes soon found their way back to Aziraphale.

“What is this? Some kind of spy mission, I’m sure.” Aziraphale folded his arms firmly. “Come to find out about our plans concerning the holy child, I suppose.”

“There’s a holy child?”

His wily face went briefly guileless and Aziraphale cursed himself. “Did you really not know? Oh, now I’ve done it. I just can’t do anything right, these days.”

“Woah, hey, angel. This wasn’t a spy mission, honest. Just curiosity, plain and simple. I won’t go tattling, probably just create extra work for me anyway.”

Aziraphale exhaled. “Well, I suppose that’s one thing not gone belly up then.”

“What’s got you so down on yourself?”

“Management has given me more responsibility than I’ve had since… well, since the bit with the sword if you must know. I’m supposed to be making sure the birth goes smoothly, easing the journey here for his mother and making sure they’ve got a place to stay. I already made a mess of that first bit. I tried to get her and her husband a pair of magnificent steeds, but there was this whole kerfuffle and somehow it’s just one donkey now.”

Crawly sucked air in through his teeth. “I can see the problem there”

“And there’re so many people trying to get to Jerusalem to pay their taxes that the rooms in every inn keep filling up. I’ve been stopping by every inn each day and buying up the rooms that are available for the next week, but they won’t give them to me until the current inhabitants move on. Still, there should be more than enough space for the child and whatever followers arrive to rest in comfort. I’m so worried something else will go wrong.”

“What else is there?”

With a wavering hand, Aziraphale pointed to an unassuming box that sat in the middle of his unneeded bed. Crawly stepped forward, reaching out, before Aziraphale grabbed his wrist. “I’m not sure you ought to touch that. Gabriel gave them to me. It’s supplies for star making. There’s supposed to be a glorious one to announce the child’s arrival. But I’m a guardian; I was never part of any creative department. It’s going to be a disaster.”

Crawly kept staring at the box, looking for all the world like a snake in a charmer’s basket. Despite Aziraphale’s warning he touched it, movements oddly tender, and opened it to peer inside. The contents shone out, hitting the planes of his face and the ringlets of his hair in such a way that Aziraphale became suddenly aware of just how beautiful he was. Then Crawly snapped the box shut and was silent. Feeling, somehow, that it would be shameful to interrupt whatever he was thinking at the moment, Aziraphale stayed quiet as well.

Then he finally spoke, “You know, I could make it for you.”

Aziraphale spluttered, this had to be some sort of trap. “I’m in enough trouble already without you playing tricks.”

“I’m serious, angel. I… I used to do stars. It’s not exactly difficult. Could be… could be fun to give it a go again. See if I still got it. It’s not like I’m ever gonna get the chance some other way.”

Against his better judgement Aziraphale agreed. He told himself later that it was because the stress had gotten to him, but it had more to do with the look on Crawly’s face.

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

The child had been born. The earth received her king. Men their songs had employed. The fields and floods, rocks, hill and plains had repeated the sounding joy. Aziraphale had heralded it all to the shepherds. His heart had been full, so briefly with pride, but now he sat, curled up beneath the sky outside Bethlehem’s walls cursing himself.

A pair of black sandals came into view and then Crawly settled down beside him. “What’s got you so down? Things must’ve gone well. It’s so holy out tonight I can hardly breathe. ‘Slike when there’s too much humidity.”

“It went well in general, I suppose, but it didn’t go well for me. Oh, Gabriel is going to be furious! I’m certain to be demoted again.” Fiddling with the hem of his robe did not provide much relief from his anxieties.

“What’s happened then?”

“I muddled up the inns! I left before they arrived, you see. I wanted to be ready for heralding with the shepherds. I neglected to tell a single innkeeper what I’d rented all the rooms for! So of course there wasn’t any place left for them to stay. The Holy Child was born in a barn, Crawly! Because of me!” Aziraphale looked at him, pleading. “Could you just leave? I don’t need anyone gloating.”

“You see me gloating? I’m not gloating. You know what your problem is, angel? You haven’t learned how to handle management, that’s what. So the kid was born in a barn, don’t tell them it was an accident. Tell them it was a plan.”

Aziraphale glared at him. “And what good would that do? That’d be even worse!”

“No, you just got to spin it. Say that, er…” He paused, brow crinkled as he thought. His eyes darted back and forth, though he was only looking at the sand two feet in front of them. Then he grinned. “Got it. Tell them it’s symbolic. Tell them that since this kid is supposed to be born for the good of the world, or whatever, that he had to come from humble beginnings. That he’ll better represent the everyday people instead of just kings or shit like that.”

Aziraphale gazed at him in wonder. He really shouldn’t be thinking about how brilliant the demon was. “You know, that could actually work!”

“See. It doesn’t always matter what you do, just how you explain it to the boss.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, feeling altogether too fond of the creature beside him. “And thank you for dropping off the star yesterday. It’s a shame they didn’t end up using it.”

“What do you mean they didn’t?”

He sounded offended, and Aziraphale tried to be gentle as he pointed to the light above them. “When Gabriel came to pick it up yesterday, he told me a few other angels had made stars of their own and that the Almighty would be choosing among them.”

“Did you look inside the box before you gave it over?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then why don’t you think that one’s mine?”

Aziraphale looked up. The star that hung above them, now thousands of times the size it had first been, was the most gorgeous he had ever seen. It was like a diamond with a million sides, each casting out lights of silver and gold woven together with light. Spots of refracted color could be seen, but only when you looked at it just right. He’d assumed it had been made by a master crafter, not a demon picking up a hobby again for the first time in four million years.

“Is it yours?”

“Yeah,” Crawly said huffily. “So don’t act surprised when your boss comes around praising you for it.”

“Oh, Crawly. I’d no idea you were so talented. It’s simply breath taking!”

The demon stood abruptly and kicked at the sand. “Yeah well. I should get going anyway. The air here is too thick with holiness. I’ll be seeing you around, angel. I always do.”

Aziraphale watched him go. They’d tricked Gabriel, that was obvious, but he could not imagine that they’d fooled the Lord. She’d handled the star. She’d placed it in the heavens. Had she not been able to sense the truth of its creator? And if she had, why had she chosen it anyway?

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

Link to the original fic, if you’re interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24166843/chapters/59699671 

[chaoticspacefam]

OC Worldbuilding Tag Pt 2!

...electric boogaloo! I’m sorry I know this joke is old now but I cannot help it, it’s ingrained in my brain XD

I got another tag for this from @a-master-procrastinator , thank you! :D

I think all my friends & mutuals have already been tagged for this one? But I’ll throw a couple out here if you want to, no pressure as always!: @mercurypilgrim​ , @actualanxiousswampwitch and @sleepswithvillains maybe?

Some more Saarai, because I love her. Some very slight spoilers for some of the differences in the Subterfugeverse plot points but nothing major! ;3 Long post warning again, as well as some brief mentions of Valkorion being a dick and causing a mass-genocide but all on the same level as the presented game canon.

- Saarai is psychometric and has been since she was pretty young, a Force power she inherited from D’leah’s mother, Saa’thri, because it “skipped” D’leah and Saarai got it instead. Though she didn’t realise it at the time and it wasn’t until she brought it up to her mother and D’leah went “oh yeah, your grandma had that too :)” that she realised it was actually A Thing.

- She’s not always good at recognising when a vision is from the Psychometry and when it’s just “her imagination”, particularly when she’s younger (which gets her into some trouble, see: the whole Tsâhis thing). Even after she gets used to it, sometimes it still hits her out of nowhere and if it’s a particularly nasty vision she’ll sometimes lose her footing and hit the deck - thankfully, because of their Force bond, Ni’kasi can usually figure out what’s happening and react fast enough to catch her before she smacks her head on something.

- Nathema was...not fun for Saarai thanks to the Psychometry. She’d wanted to go with them to protect them and ended up having to be dragged back to the ship and wait there because the moment she tried to touch anything there the Force went “Oh hey!! would you like some Detailed Flashbacks About What Happened Here!!” and yeah...she did not have a good time. Going to Nathema was kind of a mistake for her. Woops. (She gets through it though, Lana gets her back to the ship and she gets a handle on things but definitely doesn’t go all the way into the facility with Vano and Lana. Probably a good thing, too, if she’d picked up that toy of Vaylin’s I think she would’ve found those visions quite upsetting to watch, too.)

- She and Lana don’t share a Force bond, only because she has one with her sister, Ni’kasi instead. Neither of the twins are exactly sure when it formed, but they’ve had the connection for as long as they can remember. When they’re separated while Saarai and Ty are on Rishii, it’s harder for them to communicate because of the distance between them and Kas putting up barriers “just in case” the Sith tried to interrogate her at any point, she didn’t want to give Saarai away. They knew enough to know the other twin was probably still alive, but not to know exactly what was going on with each other until they finally reunite with the first Coalition on Yavin IV. That was the final relief for the twins, actually getting to see the other one standing there and definitely very much alive, there were hugs and a lot of tears, absolutely. <3

- Saarai is very much a “reluctant leader”, she never wanted to be a figurehead in the Alliance nor did she want to be telling people what to do, but circumstances “forced” her into the role and she had to stumble around awkwardly and adapt. With Vano gone and stuck in carbonite, somone had to step up and make sure the people that were working with Vano stuck together and didn’t fall apart (Not all of Vano’s crew disperse, Broonmark, Pierce and Jaesa always remain with the Alliance. Quinn ends up in jail after the Quinncident and Vette goes missing during one of their attempts to search for Vano’s whereabouts only to reappear as in canon later ;)) With Marr dead and the rest of the Dark Council under Zakuul’s heel or missing, that left Lana, Ni’kasi and Aria as alternative “leadership” figures. Lana lacked the ambition for it and was more tooled to be an advisor and while both Ni’kasi and Aria are bossy enough to delegate tasks, they’re abrasive and people don’t like them. But they like Saarai and they listen to her. So everyone kinda went “Okay cool you’re in charge now :)” I’m sorry, Saarai, you’re symultaneously the most and least qualified for this job but you got it anyway :P She settles into it eventually, though, but will be the first one to adamantly insist that it’s a team effort between not only herself and Vano once they have her back, but Lana, Koth, Theron and all the other trusted members of the Alliance acting as advisors in their respective fields of interest.

- In Subterfugeverse, I headcanon that Vano and Saarai share the command of the Alliance once Vano returns. Vano has the Commander title and handles most of the battle tactics and strategy, whereas Saarai handles things like conflict resolution and public relations, as well as controlling the Eternal Fleet. Things work very differently in Subterfugeverse in terms of the Throne so I’ll try to keep it brief but essentially:

Valkorion “took over” the Sith Empire from the Ahaszaai, Saarai’s ancestors. It was a very hostile takeover and currently Saarai, Ni’kasi, Ty, eventually Ni’kasi’s kids, and their uncle Vowrawn are the only four Ahaszaai left in the entire galaxy.

While they didn’t technically have claim to the Zakuulan throne, the original Sith homeworld before Valkorion’s bullshit was Medriaas (which is canon, I’m just borrowing this part because it fits in nicely ;)), which became Nathema after Valkorion did his whole “planet eating” thing.

Vano is initially the only one who can control the Throne and the Fleet via the whole “Valkorion is in her head” loophole. However, that loophole becomes defunct once Valkorion gets yanked out of her mind since it was Valkorion that gave her the ability to control it in the first place.

I’m assuming for the sake of plot flow that it’s based upon two specific “checks” and that’s 1) direct blood ties to the Emperor(ess) in power and/or 2) said Emperor(ess) currently controlling the throne directly and willingly passing their authority over the throne to a successor - which is how Valkorion is able to give the Outlander/Vano control of the Fleet while he’s in her mind, even though she’s not blood related to him.

They’re able to, with some research, deduce that they can exploit this apparent loophole in the system, to avoid losing control of the Fleet entirely and risking any of the GEMINI droids turning into another SCORPIO; and Vano essentially rescinds control of the Throne/Fleet to Saarai, everyone (including Ni’kasi herself) agrees that Saarai is the responsible choice because she’s not going to get a bee in her bonnet and with an errant thought accidentally set the Eternal Fleet on the Jedi or something of the sort.

Since Saarai has direct blood ties to the original ruling Sith before Valkorion userped the title from them, and Vano willingly gave the Throne up to her, the Throne can’t throw a tantrum about it and just has to deal with it. XD

- Once they do manage to track down where Vano is, before Lana and Koth head to Zakuul to actually break her out, Lana comes to Saarai for help with that. Ni’kasi has to stay to watch Ty and also try and keep a tenuous line with the other Sith thanks to her position on the Dark Council, Aria’s too emotionally charged to think straight and Lana is rightfully worried she might make a mistake that puts the whole rescue mission in jeapordy, so they ask Saarai instead. It’s kind of awkward and she and Koth rub each other the wrong way at first, they bicker for two thirds of the entire trip there and Lana almost throws them both out of the airlock for it, but eventually do find a way to bury the hatchet before they actually arrive at Zakuul to rescue Vano.

- By the time they find the Gravestone, Saarai and Koth have made up and though they are not yet involved with eachother at that time, have both agreed that fighting over Lana is stupid and they can make this work without making things difficult for anyone else, so the whole interruption in the Gravestone’s cargo hold, for Subterfugeverse, is genuinely an accident. Saarai heads up to check on him afterwards and they have another amicable and productive conversation and end up growing a little closer. Their side of the relationship is a little slower to form, but they do eventually end up developing deeper feelings for each other, though it’s strictly non-sexual between Rai and Koth and they are both 100% happy and okay with that.

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 27

“If that little shit says code fucking red one more time; I swear I’m gonna—“

“Woah, woah, woah; Lo! Cool your jets.” Soothes Steve, though at this rate I’d settle at punching him unconscious.

If it wasn’t enough that I spent a weeks worth of pay checks on diced beef, because despite having a wallet that cost more than my entire wardrobe, someone forgot to bring his allowance; I now was having to deal with all the joys of working with a twelve year old boy.

Sorry; thirteen, as he keeps reminding me.

Thank god Eleven was a girl!

But at least we had some semblance of a plan now; Steve’s BMW parked in the woods at the start of our carnivorous crumb trail that would eventually lead to the junkyard.

Steve popped the trunk of his car; rubber gloves already on hands, because of course; the pretty boy couldn’t get his hands bloody.

The scent of blood and death was strong within; the result of nearly ten pounds worth of prized sirloin chopped in buckets, because according to the little shit; his ex-pet was a fussy eater.

Steve did the honours; hauling out two heaping buckets of meat which were already beginning to smell thanks to the heat of the car.

“Jesus, Lola; do we really need this much meat? He asked; his nose wrinkled in disgust.

Apparently I’d forgotten that a pampered trust fund teen like Steve probably never even had to wash dishes; let alone do any meal prep with raw meat.

“Shut up and unload the trunk.” I ordered; not willing to take any of his crap.

It had been his damn idea to put his faith in the wild imaginations of a thirteen year old, not mine.

I would’ve been more than happy to stay at Charlie’s and finish fixing Marty’s truck, then go out with Bil—

Shit! I’d almost forgot!

Billy would be coming to pick me up in a couple of hours, and I was currently about to start traipsing through mulch and animal shit, spreading the contents of a corpse with Steve and some weird kid.

Of all the fucking excuses I could be giving him; this one really took the whole damn pie!

Even if I did manage to make it back in time; he’d never believe me.

Not even when I stunk like a butchers shop and felt half as dead.

Steve was gonna fucking owe me for this—

“Lo; you still with me?” Steve asked; breaking through my mental rant to try and play the reasonable friend, and I wanted to fucking read him out, because I’d lost out on a good damn night for this and maybe even lost my chance at being with Billy for good; but fuck, Steve didn’t know that.

And I couldn’t blame him; not really.

“Nothing. Just forgot if I’d left the stove on.” I replied; the absurdity of that statement going straight over Steve’s pretty head as he pulled his rucksack out of the boot, alongside several cans of gasoline, unknowingly kindly donated by Charlie’s auto repairs.

Steve pulled out his nailbat; a post-apocalyptic beast of a thing that actually had belonged to Jonathan, before it was valiantly commandeered by Steve in the demogorgon attack last year.

Now it seemed the enigmatically named nailbat man was to make a reappearance; all for the sake of avenging some dumb kid’s cat and a half eaten candy bar.

I, however, liked to keep things more practical; having made time to stop home during our little errand to pick up a most vital supply.

I pulled out my dad’s sawn off shotgun from the trunk; making sure this baby was loaded with the finest buckshot, before cocking it.

Steve can wave round that little tennis racket as much as he liked; meanwhile I’d blow this bitch to smithereens with pure homegrown American lead.

Steve looked at it with a mixture of apprehension and awe, still not comfortable with me bringing a loaded weapon, despite me having learnt how to shoot before I could even drive.

He’d get over it.

Fuck; he might even be thankful once we bring this overgrown slug down without even breaking a sweat.

I let him slam the trunk closed, and by the sounds of it, E.T. was finally done phoning home; Dustin pushing down that ridiculous antenna at last, before the Venusians tried to contact us on it.

“You gonna actually help any time today kid, or is your plan just to play operator whilst we do the real work?” I queried; picking up the first of the heavy metal buckets in front of me.

“Alright, alright; hold your fucking horses. I’m coming.” The kid placated, and maybe I should’ve said something about the language, but then again; I wasn’t exactly a saint, and I wasn’t the kid’s mother, so why the fuck should I care?

Instead, I stood back as he picked up the lightest of the buckets, leaving the heaviest for Steve, but you know what; let him.

It was Steve’s damn sympathies that got us into this mess; so let’s see him feel so sympathetic when he’s done spreading meat for the next two hours.

———————————————————

So maybe playing pied piper to a B movie creature feature wasn’t as mind numbingly boring as I’d thought it would be.

I mean; the company was decent, me and Steve wasting the time away by playing twenty one questions and talking with the kid.

Think of it as community service; us near adults taking the time out from our busy lives to give back to the younger generation.

Of course; I’d also forgotten how blatantly dumb boys of the younger generation could be.

“All right; so let me get this straight...” Drawled the voice of Steve as he trailed behind keeping pace with the kid; after refusing to keep step with me.

It’s not my fault; really. He’d dropped a question on cannibalism on me, and I’d rose to the challenge beautifully; managing to both freak him out and educate him in one answer; a finer achievement than any teacher at Hawkins High had ever managed.

“You kept something dangerous in order to impress a girl... who you just met?” Steve asked with such incredulousness, you’d almost forget this is the same kid who took up football in freshman year just to impress Kathy Williams; an absolute disaster which ended with him getting tackled by a senior quarterback and him spending two weeks in Hawkins Med with a broken arm.

Still got that date with Kathy though.

“Alright; that’s grossly oversimplifying things...” The kid objected, because pigheaded stupidity was a primarily male trait with symptoms that included complete denial when it came to pursuing the fairer sex.

“I mean; why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?” Steve asked; the question perfectly rational, but clearly absurd in the eyes of a thirteen year old.

“An interdimensional slug?! Because it’s awesome!” Dustin exclaimed, and I swear the nerd levels here were sweeping off the chart.

“Lola; would you like it if I showed you a slug?” Steve called ahead to me, finally breaking his selective silence to ask an actual female about their kind.

Still; didn’t mean I was gonna give him all the answers.

“I’m not going anywhere near you or your slug, Steve.” I retorted; still not managing to contain a chuckle. Yes; that was an innuendo, and Steve was probably rolling his eyes right now, but fuck; if I didn’t like winding him up.

“Well; even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t... I... I just... I don’t know.” Steve reasoned with a sigh, forgoing all attempts to get me on side, because I was a petty bitch and still wasn’t quite over when he asked me about bra size.

“I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” Steve confessed, chucking down another handful of meat with resigned indignation.

“Well; not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright...” Dustin griped, and I could barely contain my laughter, because was I the only one who fucking remembered?!

“Perfect?!” I scoffed; the word half hidden in a bout of laughter. “You should’ve seen him in the eighth grade! He looked like the fourth Beegee!” I exclaimed with thunderous laughter, because it was true; goddamnit!

Steve’s hair had been so goddamn hilarious, and just remembering it now brought back flashbacks of the Snow Ball; memories of crisp white suits straight out of Saturday Night Fever, and a much younger Steve Harrington busting a move on the dance floor like a barely pubescent John Travolta.

Steve didn’t find it funny, shooting me daggers that clearly said “shut the hell up”, despite the fact his embarrassment would only rile me up further.

“Anyway; it’s not about the hair...” He returned his attention to Dustin, clearly understanding that giving me evils was getting him nowhere.

“The key with girls is just... acting like you don’t care.” Steve bestowed his worldly piece of wisdom, and I could barely keep myself from rolling my eyes.

Yeah; because of course the girls liked Steve because he acted like a total douche, and not because they thought he was dumber than a sack of dirt and didn’t know any better.

The hair was a bonus though.

“Even if you do?” The kid asked innocently; and it was hard to believe that all twelve year olds took advice so easily.

“Yeah; exactly. It drives them nuts.” Steve said; and I had to stop them there.

This kid was no Steve Harrington and would probably end up dying alone if he followed Steve’s example.

Fuck; Steve might end up dying alone with a shovel to the back of the head if he kept pissing me off like this.

“Or he could just tell this girl how he actually feels, rather than acting all emotionally constipated about it; Steve...” I interrupted; offering an realistically sound piece of advice, which might end up with the girl actually liking the kid, rather than mistaking him for the douche of the century; who was clearly already walking among us.

“Don’t listen to her...” Steve dismissed my advice with a wave of the hand, and this time, I really did roll my eyes.

“Why? Because I’m a girl?” I countered smartly; as if sound logic ever meant more to Steve than macho grand standing.

“No; because you’re a psychopath...” Steve replies, tossing a handful of meat at me, as if I was a mischievous bitch that could be fended off with a scrap of food.

“Hey!” I exclaimed; nimbly leaping out of the line of fire before I could amass another interesting stain on my jacket.

“You know; I liked you better with your headphones on, Blondie...” Steve drawled; his attention fully averted from counsel giving, to our usually programmed showing of me and Steve acting like complete jackasses around each other.

“And I liked you better in Wham!; George...” I retorted; knowing how much Steve hated the smarmy pop band, despite Nancy’s insistence that they were gorgeous.

“Why don’t you come back here...” Steve began to bluster; picking up another handful of bloody meat with a mischievous smile on his face, but it was too late.

I was quicker than him, already dancing away further along the track, before slipping on my headphones; because despite being a slippery bitch, I was a good girl and sometimes decided to appease our noble king; if only for an easy time.

I hit play on my Walkman; happy to hear the starting notes of Heart Of Glass chiming into my ear canals.

I turned it up loud and proud to sing along; resolved that if Steve and the kid wanted boy time, they could have it, but I would be as much of a nuisance as possible.

“Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon found out he had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Much of mistrust; love’s gone behind.”

[mysterylover123]

BNHA Rewatch: Episode 29 “Hero Killer Stain vs UA Students”

mysterylover123

This is a great episode.

So imagine you’ve never heard of BNHA and only heard a synopsis of this episode. Notice how you can figure out a lot about Midoriya’s character, just by learning how he manages to find Iida? By observing what kind of person he is, utilizing his knowledge of the Hero Killer’s tendencies, and deducing via process of elimination where he is. You get it. Smart, a little reckless, observant and self-sacrificing. That, my friend, is good writing. 

Endeavor’s introduction here is so jarring the first time you see it. He’s introduced the same way Midoriya is introduced when he finds Iida and Stain later on - saving the day at the last minute, saying he’s got this, and that he’s here as a hero. It’s this eerie contrast to the Endeavor in the audience’s mind, the monster who seems to justify Stain’s philosophy with his douchebaggery. 

Tomura asking AFO for Nomu like a kid asking a parent for more toys lol.

“Ingenium is the name of a hero who will defeat you” Iida takes up his brother’s mantle...and is instantly defeated. For those playing the Major Theme Home game, this is the Imitation one. Blind Imitation in BNHA=Instant Death Ticket. And interestingly enough, Stain embodies this concept as well. Stain is someone who thinks everyone should imitate All Might’s style of heroism and nothing else. He enforces blind imitation. 

Yeesh. That looks painful.

So trying to piece together why Stain thought Tensei was a fake hero is odd, since he’s such a standup guy. Iida’s flashback has Tensei revealing that he feels dependent on his sidekicks, and perhaps that’s the idea here: just like Tensei, Iida needs Todoroki and Midoriya’s support, but one of the series’ components of a great hero (eg All Might) is someone who can stand on their own. At the same time, Stain is kinda, you know, wrong, so it’s possible the series is not refuting the power of friendship with this, but rather advocating for it.

Stain’s rebuke to Tenya also speaks about the other half of being a great hero - prioritizing rescue - that the series advocates. Iida is so fixated on killing Stain, he didn’t even notice that Stain was about to murder the pro-hero Native (presumably for being a fake hero who commits cultural appropriation), a mistake that Midoriya immediately counteracts when he arrives and notices Native, realizing he has to stick around to protect both Native and Iida. 

Speaking of...

Deku is so sugoi. Seriously this entrance is one of the most badass moments in the series to me. It’s like, boom, give Deku a couple days working on his quirk, and he goes from a shy kid who’s scared to use his powers to a tough, confident badass who just buzzes in, bouncing off the walls, and socks a professional villain in the face. 

OMG THIS OST. I don’t know what it’s called. Someone tell me what it’s called, this is one of my favorite OSTs in the series. 

Stain recognizes him. Villain Love at First Sight! (I’m kidding, but seriously, I like how Stain actually respects Midoriya. It’s totally in character and makes perfect sense. It’s probably my favorite thing about Stain, actually - the way he can spot a true hero-in-training when he sees one).

Deku’s on such a winning streak lately. Just...looking great, being great, doing great things. 

Stain’s eyes are, according to Deku ‘those of a fanatic’, compared to Tomura’s (there’s that Motivation theme again). Interestingly enough, Deku and Stain are both ‘fanatics’ about the same thing. Stain is a foil, an evil counterpart of Deku. The person he could’ve been if he allowed his idolization of All Might to take him too far. 

Iida tells Deku to basically leave him there to die. Deku’s response is so good that I just have to post it (the dub version here): “If you really believe that, then why are you trying to become a hero in the first place?...All Might was right, though. Meddling where you don’t need to is the essence of being a hero!”

I’m with you, Stain. I’m with you.

So we get this fight. While Deku’s taken out quickly, his strategy is still pretty cool. It’s so fun to watch him fight. Full Cowl is one of my favorite fight styles in anime. 

Deku does so amazing he’s so smart. Damn but Stain still gets him. Nonetheless, Stain isn’t about to kill his new Hero Crush, Symbol of Peace 2.0, so he leaves him struggling and goes to kill his Current Archnemesis, Ingenium 2.0. Only to be interrupted by...

SQUEEE!!!! Also, the Tododeku is strong with this one. Sending messages like this isn’t Deku’s style, Shoto says. Aw!

Deku gives us a friendly reminder that he’s Smart beyond Smart as he’s already put together the Hero Killer’s quirk and how it works. Marry me Deku. 

Ew Stain no licking Shoto that’s Deku’s job.

Iida is yelling about how Shoto needs to let him kill Stain. (I’m reminded of a scene from Angel: “He’s my lead, he’s my lead, what are we, on the schoolyard here?) Anyway, the animation on Shoto fighting here is jaw-dropping, seeing him swap between hot and cold...wow...

The nature of Stain’s quirk is just flat-out brilliant. He freezes people in place, reflecting his own mindset of how people can’t just change, how he refuses to accept Iida’s change. And according to Blood Type Personality theory, his quirk is most effective against the types of people he hates the most (B) and least against those he likes the most (O). O being closest type to his image of a perfect hero (BTW, Blood Type in Japanese dating culture also corresponds with romantic compatibility. For my main ship: O/A (Izuku/Katsuki) is considered an ideal match. Score!)

But speaking of ships, Tododeku negotiate how to work together to fight Stain and it’s super cute. Shoto then has a long flashback scored to another mindblowingly good OST about how Deku completely changed his life and made it so he could deal with his shit and talk to his mom and it’s so precious and sweet. (For the record, they’re both Type O.)

Also Shoto thinking about his trek to his old man’s internship is so well-timed for me today. SPOILERS Chapter 242 ends with him offering to let Wonder Duo intern with his dad and him. Holy Crap. They sure have come a long way.

OMG Sub and Dub this line is so good: “Set your eyes on what you want to become”/”Become the hero he wanted you to be!” I can’t decide which I like better. Todoroki you master of epic speeches you. 

I’d say this is the best of the Stain episodes. Overall, it’s just so strong. Great pacing, acting, animation, story, everything. The OST is incredible all the way through, the character development is just a joy to behold. Everything is all around amazing. Another really-high up there one. Season 2 is just a masterwork. 

BKDK Corner

Iida: His moves, like Bakugou’s! Everyone can see it. (Though as an aside - I think Deku  just might be faster). Also in the eternal home game of “Win and Rescue” heroes, Izuku is a true hero to Stain because he will put others first, but a true hero also needs to be able to win a fight on their own if they want to do so. Izuku isn’t quite there yet, but he’s taken an important first step. By learning from the Embodiment of Victory. 

Best Girl of the Ep: Unnamed blonde pro lady!

RANKER: Top 5 Favorite Midoriya Quotes

5.  “My body moved before I could think.” Episode 2/Chapter 1. 

4. “It’s your power, isn’t it?”Episode 23/Chapter 39

3. “To the same degree as all of your terrible traits, your sheer amazingness at everything you do was so brilliant to me, it was blinding.” Episode 61/Chapter 119

2. “Meddling where you don’t need to is the essence of being a hero.” Episode 29/Chapter 152

1. “A hero’s job is to risk his life, to turn his lip service into a reality!” Episode 42/Chapter 75.

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Happy New Company” Chapter 2

This disagreed with me a little as there was supposed to be a flashback but it was getting too long and it’s getting too late so the flashback will be in the next chapter along with some others.

Griffin looped her arm through his and he was glad she went through the trouble even when she’d have to let go of him the moment the door opened and they started getting hugs and handshakes. The warmth of her touch complemented the lingering feeling of her kiss and kept the cold of the last day of the year away and his spirits high. And he hoped they would only get higher as they were met with the inviting demeanor of their friends, even if that would prompt him to pull away from her for a while. But she would still be right there by his side as they were also surrounded by other people that loved them. He couldn't imagine anything more magical.

He rang the bell and looked at Griffin who smiled at him, and if she had been the one to encourage him the previous times they’d stood in front of Marion and Oritel’s door waiting to be let in, then this time her smile was more grateful for the hand he’d given her with the mess in her head, and he ached to stroke her cheek and offer her more comfort for her to lean in but he was holding the two bags that contained their entertainment for tonight and he didn’t want to let go of her yet so he had to pass on that. Regretfully. Very regretfully.

The door opened, drawing his attention away from the unfortunate turn of events and revealing Oritel who smiled at them.

“Welcome,” he said as he stepped aside to let them come in where Hagen was also waiting for them. Not that Valtor was upset at seeing them but he’d been expecting Marion and Faragonda to meet them. Yet, they were nowhere to be seen, leaving them with the two men.

“Sorry we’re late,” Griffin said, looking at Oritel as she let go of Valtor’s arm to take off her coat. It was more than warm at Marion and Oritel’s house and she’d been bothered enough by everything in her head to allow the heat to get to her, too, and cook her alive. “We had some things that had to be dealt with,” she said but her eyes were now on Valtor to make sure he knew she didn’t blame him and he appreciated it, hoping she’d be able to read that in the look her returned.

“That’s okay. We’re all over the place ourselves,” Oritel said as he took Griffin's coat from her, surprising with the honesty. He usually insisted on presenting a collected front but after Bloom’s birth and all the emotions they had shared around it–all four Valtor, Griffin, Faragonda and Hagen had dropped everything the moment they’d heard that Marion had given birth and had driven to the hospital to deliver the congratulations and encouragement that were in order and Marion and Oritel had both seemed really touched by their readiness to help with everything they could–that seemed to go to the back of his mind when they were together. Whether because he considered them friends now or because the care for baby Bloom had left him too exhausted was yet to be determined. Though, the fact that they had a babysitter to help them was making Valtor lean towards the first. “You need a hand there?” Oritel asked him, nodding towards the bags he was holding.

“No, I’m good,” Valtor said, giving them to Griffin who was quickly by his side to take them so that he could take his coat off as well. Not that he didn’t trust Oritel, but he preferred to have her hold on to what they’d prepared together specifically for the occasion, and Griffin seemed to return his feelings if the smirk she gave him was anything to judge by. “You seem a little underdressed,” he said as he gave his coat to Oritel as well, looking over his outfit. He was wearing jeans which was definitely a first and the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned which the lack of tie allowed for. Apart from their stay in the cabin, Oritel had always worn a tie when they’d gathered, and it was strange to see him without one. “No appreciation for my Christmas gift, I see,” Valtor teased, letting enough amusement seep into his voice so that he wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“Yeah, I decided to loosen up a little this time,” Oritel returned, not letting the comment get to him even for a second which hadn’t been Valtor’s idea anyway. Otherwise, things would have been different but that was all behind him now. Those teases were the most biting remarks that left his mouth these days and perhaps it was less ‘in with the new’ and more ‘out with the old’ but it seemed to work well enough not only for him, but for everyone else too so he was content with that progress. “What about you? I don’t see the gift from Marion and me either even though it would be very appropriate considering the essence of the celebration,” Oritel asked, making them sound like two kids that were insecure enough in their friendship still to need validation over every single interaction.

It looked like Griffin had had the same thought because her lips were pursed in an attempt to hold her laughter in when he glanced at her.

“I thought it wouldn't be such a tragedy if I left it at home this time,” he said as he wore an obviously fake apologetic expression. He and Griffin had been worried enough as it was. They hadn’t needed anything else to prompt even more negativity. “It’s been put to good use, though,” he reassured but it seemed that wasn’t enough for Oritel who looked at Griffin for confirmation and only seemed to relax once she’d nodded. “Good call on loosening up, though. You could use that,” Valtor said as he patted Oritel’s shoulder theatrically and focused on Griffin and the bags she was holding.

Oritel did give him a glare that he pretended he didn’t notice before moving to hang their coats, leaving them with Hagen for the time being.

Griffin looked at Hagen as Valtor took the bags from her and the robotics engineer turned his head away with a pout on his face like the drama queen that he was. “Come on, Hagen, it was just an innocent little kiss,” Griffin whined, entering her own drama queen mode and leaving Valtor with the striking realization of how much she and Hagen were alike in that regard. Faragonda seemed to like the dramatical types. Though, considering the matching wedding bands on his and Griffin's hands he couldn’t really judge. If anything, an overdramatic spouse certainly made things more interesting. And he would never trade Griffin for anything in the world.

“Innocent is not a word that goes with you,” Hagen grumbled as he crossed his arms, turning slightly away from Griffin and looking exactly like a fussy child, making Valtor look away to make sure he wouldn’t burst into laughter and ruin the entire scene they were putting on.

“You don’t mean that,” Griffin drawled out the last word as she summoned her best glassy look that gave the impression she was about to cry from Hagen’s rude treatment as she moved so that he could look right into her eyes and feel guilty for his words. Valtor was pretty sure that his wife had been an inquisitor in a previous life or something. And she wasn’t really trying to torture Hagen currently.

“Like hell I don’t,” Hagen said, looking her right in the eyes as he did his best to remain impartial to the gut-wrenching stare she was giving him but his gaze softened almost instantly. Valtor had to give him credit, though, since he was holding up far better than Faragonda or Ediltrude and Zarathustra would have been in that situation, or, well, him.

“You know Faragonda loves you,” Griffin said seriously, dropping the pretense and making Hagen’s resolve drop and shatter as well, his arms unfolding and falling at his sides as his lips even got pulled into a gentle smile. “Besides, I have Valtor,” Griffin said as she walked to him and wrapped her arms around him, her touch tender and firm at the same time, making him smile as well which kind of ruined his own theatrics.

“Oh, so I’m just a replacement since you can’t have what you want?” he asked, going for scandalized but the feeling of her body pressed against him was filling him with too much content for it to look believable. Not to mention that he wrapped an arm around her waist despite being allegedly offended.

“I told you,” Griffin said as she turned to him, her gaze holding his as she put genuine emotion into her words, “you’re the only thing I want.” She gave the words a moment to sink in before going for a kiss on the cheek.

That wasn’t enough for him, though, so he turned his head, capturing her lips into a passionate kiss and pulling her even more into himself which drew a moan from her throat that gave him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss as his tongue slipped into her mouth. He almost dropped the bags he was holding in his desire to wrap his other arm around her as well and hold her so close that she was one with him well into the New Year. He couldn't imagine a better way to start another chapter of their life together and was seriously considering it when Hagen cleared his throat, abruptly severing his string of thoughts.

Valtor broke the kiss and opened his eyes to glare at Hagen for the interruption.

“I’m the one who deserves an apology for this display,” Hagen said coldly with a stone face, completely missing the point of the glare even when he’d read the reason behind it correctly. “And make sure to keep your wife away from my girlfriend,” Hagen added, knitting his eyebrows at the memory of the kiss.

“You mean her best friend?” Valtor asked. “Yeah, I don’t think that will happen.” He would gladly just keep holding on to Griffin and showering her in all the love he held for her, and if that meant holing themselves up in their bedroom and never leaving it again with the sun rays and the starlight as their only companions, he wouldn't mind too terribly. Griffin was all the world he needed. He was still surprised when he found that he’d miss the people they’d just only recently started bonding with–or at least he–and it was quite the shocker. But he couldn't lie to himself when he knew he would feel the absence of that feeling of being accepted by others, like he’d finally found his place in the world and he didn’t have to hide in Griffin's embrace–though, he was still highly tempted to simply because that was the best place to be–afraid that the world will throw him off of its surface if he dared poke his head out. “I wouldn't get between them and I would advise you not to do it either,” he said seriously, the advice genuine. He wouldn't take well to someone trying to take Griffin away from him or trying to make her distance herself from him. Which was just another plus of his mothers being sent to jail before he’d met her. They wouldn't have liked her and they’d had an uncanny way of getting inside his head so he was beyond relieved that he hadn’t had to go against them for his love for Griffin to be given a chance to bloom.

Hagen held his gaze, the grumpy facade falling away to reveal deeper emotions underneath, and Valtor knew he’d been heard. Hagen certainly knew how much Griffin and Faragonda meant to each other considering the effect Griffin's words had had on him earlier when she’d reassured him of Faragonda’s feelings for him. And Valtor knew he wasn’t seriously considering to try to stand between the two of them but it was better to warn him, just to be safe. It would be a shame if Faragonda broke up with him after Valtor had made so many efforts to get along with him. And he didn’t want to see Faragonda heartbroken over having to choose between Griffin and Hagen when she loved them both dearly.

“It was in the name of tradition, Hagen,” Griffin said, her tone lighter as she was trying to brighten the mood that had gotten too serious for a celebration.

“Speaking of which,” Valtor grabbed at the opportunity to move along to the fun parts of their gathering. Or at least, the fun parts for him and Griffin. It was yet to be seen what reaction he would get out of Hagen, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be in the positive spectrum of emotion. “Griffin and I have brought something for us all,” he said as he let go of her reluctantly to open one of the bags he was holding, “and something for you specifically,” he said, trying to keep a straight face as he pulled out the packet of cookies Griffin had made. There would be time to gloat later.

He handed it to Hagen who froze the moment he saw the treats inside. They were shaped as rings and while the normal cookies they had brought had several pieces of chocolate jutting out of each one, those only had one that made them look like engagement rings with a gemstone each.

Griffin had spent at least an hour–he might have spent about the same amount of time staring at her adorable expression of concentration instead of helping her–to make them just like that and he was still in awe that she’d taken to his crazy–and a little cruel–idea and had actually done most of the work on it. He’d expected her to tell him to drop it since it carried the potential for a serious argument but she’d just given him a wicked smile and whipped out the products she needed to make the cookies. And he had fallen in love yet again.

Just as he’d expected, though, Hagen’s reaction to the “cookies” was very polar to the amused energy radiating from both him and Griffin. He didn’t explode but the look on his face unambiguously suggested that he was extremely done with their prank. And they hadn’t even brought it to its full potential yet.

Valtor sighed dramatically. “No appreciation of our hard work,” he turned to look at Griffin who met him with a sad gaze carrying just a hint of disappointment in it.

“I thought you would be a bit more considerate having in mind your own feelings on the matter of meddling,” Hagen tried, the annoyance practically making up his tone but there was also some hurt in there. Like, he’d been betrayed and the realization that his actions might have hurt Hagen, hit Valtor harder than he’d thought and he felt a pang of guilt and some anxiety setting at the pit of his stomach since he hadn’t expected Hagen to consider him trustworthy. And he’d done everything to prove he wasn’t.

He opened his mouth to apologize but was interrupted when the others decided to join them. They first heard Faragonda cooing at Bloom before she walked into the living room, walking side to side with Marion who was carrying the baby in her arms, and Oritel walked behind them, looking like he was expecting something to attack so he was keeping himself battle ready.

“Put this away,” Hagen growled as he shoved the packet in his hands only for Griffin to snatch it away as she headed towards her best friend, leaving both Hagen and Valtor frozen at their places.

“Griffin,” Marion noticed her first since Faragonda was preoccupied with Bloom who was currently quite content to be holding on to her finger and was looking at her with her big blue eyes, returning the smile Faragonda was giving her. “I can’t quite welcome you currently,” Marion said apologetically even if her difficulty was understandable. Bloom occupied both her arms and Faragonda and Oritel were standing at her sides like guards that made it impossible for Griffin to reach her.

“That’s okay,” Griffin said as she smiled widely at Marion and then looked to the baby in her arms. “I know I’m not the center of the universe. At least at this party,” she said as she focused on Bloom herself. Her braid fell over her shoulder as she leaned down and the tender purple color must have caught Bloom’s attention because she let go of Faragonda’s finger and reached for Griffin's hair instead. “I’m sorry, Bloom, my braid is off limits,” she said as she returned the braid back to its previous position so that it was falling over her back and was hidden from Bloom’s gaze. “I don’t like my hair pulled,” Griffin said as she made an exaggerated expression to compensate for denying Bloom access to her hair.

“Since when?” Faragonda asked, so matter-of-factly, without even looking up, dragging Valtor out of his stupor only to send him into another shock as she practically voiced his thoughts. Only he’d thought it inappropriate to say that in the current situation. He’d have to up his game. He couldn't have Faragonda rooting him out of his place as the most scandalous and insufferable friend in the group.

Griffin looked genuinely shocked as well, the disbelief on her face looking like it had seeped deep inside her skin as it took her a few seconds to react. “I am very offended, Faragonda,” she said as she went for crossing her arms before she remembered she was holding the packet of cookies. “First, you don’t greet me and then you start spilling my kinks like that in polite company,” she huffed in fake outrage since there was no harm done really. Marion and Oritel seemed to have gotten used to what the friendship between Griffin and Faragonda actually looked like and not to the version they showed to outsiders. The only problem could be...

Faragonda looked at Griffin for a second before drawing her into a hug that his wife easily accepted. “Come here, you witch,” Faragonda said as her arms moved over Griffin's back, keeping her close.

“Look who’s all rude tonight,” Griffin bit in return. “And I’m the witch? Just so you know, I won’t be tolerating this behavior for a whole year so you’d better straighten it out in the next few hours,” she said as she pulled away from Faragonda and narrowed her eyes at her friend.

“Still have a few hours left to annoy you then,” Faragonda grinned as she tugged on Griffin's sleeve, causing her whole turtleneck to shift on her body.

“You keep that up,” Griffin chuckled dangerously in warning, “and I’ll have to take matters into my own hands,” she said, her head shaking slightly in a subtle threat that was supposed to convey the message even better as she pulled her sleeve back to its previous position.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?” Faragonda asked as she stepped even closer to Griffin, holding her gaze in a challenge as she didn’t seem intimidated by the way Griffin was staring her down. But of course, they were too used to each other’s antics to fall for them. Or rather, to not fall for them and quit their banter. Valtor knew that from experience and while he had no problem with it, Hagen looked like he might drop to the floor any second now.

“As a matter of fact-”

“I think you should stop,” Valtor interrupted Griffin making everyone look at him except for Hagen who still seemed to be processing everything he’d heard. “Hagen looks like he’ll have a heart attack,” he added and hearing his name seemed to snap Hagen out of his stupor. “They’re just joking around,” he said as he put a hand on Hagen’s shoulder for support before walking over to the couch to set down the bags he’d been holding since they’d arrived.

“I’m so glad Daphne isn’t here to hear all of this,” Marion said as she looked at Oritel. “She’ll never look at either one of them the same way.” She was probably right about that since Daphne seemed to respect both of them deeply–even if she leaned a bit more towards Faragonda–and their childish behavior could prove a bit unsettling to someone who’d been looking up to them her whole life.

Her words seemed to snap Faragonda out of her BFF mode. “Right,” she said as she remembered they weren’t alone. “What’s that you’re holding?” she looked down at the packet of cookies, looking grateful to have something that allowed her to change the topic.

Hagen didn’t seem so thrilled by it as he walked over to her and crossed his arms frowning in Griffin's direction and some overprotective instinct came over Valtor, making him join them as well and wrap an arm around her shoulders. Not that he needed to watch out for her just because Hagen was currently having a problem with her–she could watch out for herself–but he wanted to be by her side since the whole idea with the cookies had been his doing and he’d hate for her to get the burnt of it when it was his responsibility. Though, he’d been ready to drop it.

“We made cookies,” Griffin announced enthusiastically as she looked up at him before returning her gaze on Faragonda. “We have the rings here and the others that are circles are in the bag on the couch,” she said as she shoved the packet in Faragonda’s hands. “You know, coming full circle and all that,” Griffin gave a sickly sweet smile, waiting for Faragonda’s reaction.

“They look delicious,” Faragonda complimented, not saying a word about their shape or Griffin's behavior that was very obviously off. She wasn’t that clueless–as proven before–so she was simply refusing to play into Griffin's prank. Perhaps for her own good as much as for Hagen’s. “We should open them and add them to the rest of the feast on the table,” she said before walking over to the kitchen to find two bowls to put the cookies in before they sat down on the table so that they wouldn't have to get up again.

Speaking of Hagen, his shoulders drooped at Faragonda’s words, in a way that suggested resignation rather then relief. And it seemed very familiar to Valtor, poking at the back of his mind from a memory that he preferred to keep buried away, for it caused him pain. Perhaps he had to dig it out, though, and use what he’d learned from it to talk to Hagen, apologize for the out-of-place prank and try to help him. It would be a good way to send the old year away and celebrate the change it had brought him. Because there was a significant change and he owed a big deal of that to the others who had done their best to reciprocate his efforts at building a genuine bond between them. He just needed to find a good moment to talk to Hagen when he could be sure they wouldn't be interrupted.

“Will you hold her while I go help Faragonda?” Marion’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts when she turned to Oritel, and he looked at the baby in her arms that was peaceful currently. Marion seemed to have managed to calm her down after Griffin had denied to entertain her with her own hair. And Bloom hated it when she didn’t get what she wanted, starting to cry almost immediately. A loud bossy baby was what she was and Valtor had joked that it was obvious she was Oritel’s daughter, making Marion laugh and throwing Oritel in shock before he’d admitted that Marion was less obstinate than he was. Not for a lack of stubbornness, though. She just tried to reason with people first.

“I think Valtor wants to hold her,” Oritel said to his wife before both of them turned to look at him and gave him knowing smiles, though he only got worried when he felt Griffin's gaze on himself as well.

He looked down at her to have her smile at him and catch his hand to disentangle herself from him. He did get an encouraging squeeze from her before she let go of him and allowed him to walk over to Marion, in a bit of a trance as he was.

He’d held Bloom before but he was still terrified of doing something wrong since she was so delicate and small. It would take just one wrong move to hurt her and he was always extremely self-conscious when he was holding her, watching out for every single action of his which was exhausting. He’d never thought it would be a tiny baby that would bring him down but he had to admit that holding her was the most frightening and draining experience of his life and he was in absolute awe of Marion and Oritel for the endless care they put in being parents. It was also fascinating, though, to watch as the little hands reached for him and the eyes lit up as she mirrored his smile–Griffin had told him he’d been smiling the entire time when he’d first gotten to hold Bloom and he’d realized how true that was as he’d observed himself later on–and it was absolutely surreal to him that Marion and Oritel trusted him enough to let him hold their newborn daughter and share their happiness. Just two months ago he would have never believed that that would be his life. It was more like a fairytale rather than the nightmare that had been his home before he’d met Griffin.

Marion handed him Bloom slowly, making sure that he was cradling her head the way she’d shown him the first time she’d given her to him and he was grateful instead of annoyed that she was checking on him because he probably trusted himself less than she trusted him. And that was another thing he added on the list of things he wanted to say. He fully intended to since he was no longer the man that had been taught that the more others knew about you, the more vulnerable you were. He’d listened to Griffin and had shown the others his true colors and they had welcomed him like family. And if his marriage to her had taught him one thing, it was that family was most definitely a strength.

Marion headed to the kitchen and he found himself alone with baby Bloom who seemed enlivened by the different face she was seeing and was moving under the blanket she was wrapped in. Oritel was watching him, of course, which made him feel a little less helpless at the face of the very unfamiliar territory that babies were to him. And so was Griffin which was the only thing that could make him tear his gaze away from the little life in his arms that he had to guard carefully.

Griffin met his gaze and the smile that took over her face was shy and broke out slow from under the layers and layers of worries that he knew were swirling around in her head, but that only made it more precious to him because it meant she was battling her fears in the name of their family just like he was. And it warmed his heart to see her look so lovingly and longingly at the sight that he was with a baby in his arms. He knew the combination of exaltation and terror that gripped at him when it was her who was holding Bloom always left him unable to feel his mind and his stomach for a good few minutes after while his heart was pounding madly in his throat and trying to shrink out of existence at the same time. And that just meant that her appreciation for what she was seeing was that much stronger for it to come out so distinguished among the sea of fears.

He smiled in response and was surprised when Griffin walked over to him, putting a hand on his back and somehow that felt even better than the moment she’d let him take her hand at the alter. Perhaps because she was taking the next step into their happiness and it was still hard to believe that there were more because from the moment he’d heard her say “I do”, he’d been the happiest man in the universe. And then they’d reached out to other people and somehow their happiness had seemed to expand. And now she was ready to reach for an even deeper connection between the two of them, for a tiny little human being that would outshine everything else with all the happiness woven into it.

“She’s so tiny,” Griffin whispered, her voice sounding like she’d start crying every second even if she’d already seen baby Bloom and had held her. And that was exactly what Valtor had said the first time he’d been allowed to hold the baby. Yet, she sounded like she was just rediscovering that fact and it had left her unable to function if anything like his thoughts had been running through her mind. “She’s so fragile,” Griffin added and this time there was definitely something dark in the words, something that seemed to startle Bloom as well as him as Griffin tangibly filled with negative energy and Valtor couldn’t bear to watch her like that since it was like he was watching the woman he loved die slowly in front of him while he was unable to do anything. But it was exactly his place to do something for her and help her out of her thoughts like she’d done so many times for him.

“And she’s so loved,” he said as he turned to look at Griffin and didn’t give up until she looked back at him and the tears in her eyes seemed to retreat scared by the security in his as it slowly seeped into her as well and the clouds behind her eyes cleared, letting the light of her love shine through.

Her fist closed into his suit jacket as she held on to him so that the emotions wouldn't sweep her away and offered Bloom one of her fingers, the baby latching on to it like it was a shiny thing that she wanted to add to her hoard and keeping her grounded.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #117

UPDATE 117: No Help for Anybody

Last time Francis had a feeling they had been transported into another world altogether, thanks to the Simurgh causing havoc and what not. It was shown she has the capacity of making portals, after all! Now let’s continue.

The two-or-maybe-three-if-Cody-is-Ballistic Travelers are exploring the neighborhood, trying to find help for those who need medical attention. There are monsters prowling around, and there’s a lot of noise out there that hint things are looking mighty bad. If they go in the wrong direction, I really don’t think they’ll be okay. They have no powers for the time being, after all.

During their walk, they hear something that sounded like a scream. Marissa immediately suggests they should go help whoever screamed, while Cody argued that’d be putting themselves in danger and therefore should ignore the scream. Francis, being the tie-breaker, decides to go help whoever screamed – not because he’s feeling particularly charitable, but because there’s a small chance whoever is in need of help has medical knowledge they can take advantage of. Good reason as any to go help someone, really!

Without waiting for Cody to argue this further, Francis starts running in direction of where the scream came from.

Turns out the screaming came from a fast food restaurant that has been boarded up. Inside there are a few people, trying to be safe from the monsters roaming outside, but they weren’t successful. One of the people is currently trapped by one of the monsters. Say...

The monsters included a man with a neck three times the usual length and a gnarled hump on his back that was plated in armor.   His arms split in two at the elbow, with one set of hands and one set of limbs that ended in built-in scythes.  He was perched on a table, cackling.  His jacket was clearly borrowed, ill-fitting around his hump, and he kept having to push the sleeves up so they wouldn’t cover his hands or weapons.

His partner held their victim, the ninth person in the room.  She was big, maybe seven feet tall, and heavy in a way that met some middle ground between being muscular and being fat.  Big boned might have been the most apt way to describe her, in a literal sense.  Her skin was thick, her features blunt: she had a porcine nose and cauliflower ears, her fingers were stubby and her lips so fat that they curled away from her comparatively tiny teeth.  She might have weighed four hundred pounds, and the way she was easily holding her victim in the air suggested she was strong enough to kill someone with one good punch.  She wore only a set of grays that looked like a prisoner uniform.  He could make out the first half of the word that was printed across her shoulders: GWER-.

Rounding out the group was a young woman.  Something was off about her, besides the obvious physical changes.  Thick black horizontal lines striped her body, crossing her eyes like a blindfold, extending from the corners of her mouth, lining her chin and tracing down her neck.  By the time they reached her fingers, her skin was more black than white. She wore the same prison grays, but had donned a jacket and boots.  Her blond hair was straight, her bangs cut severely across her forehead.

I’m sorry for copypasting everything, but I wanted to get the descriptions here. It’s weird...they’re not as...inhuman as I expected when it was mentioned they were monsters. Frankly, they don’t sound too dissimilar to how some parahumans look like, especially those that suffer strong mutations. I also notice they have some sort of clothing, hm...

Could it be these monsters were brought from another world with parahumans? That the Simurgh targeted a parahuman prison, and brought its inhabitants here? I mean, it’s not too farfetched. Parahumans can look real strange, like Crawler. Compared to him, these aren’t too bad.

It seems like one of these three isn’t entirely on board with the ‘tormenting civilians’ thing. Matryoshka, she’s called. The other two push a civilian towards her, expecting her to do something. Most likely use her power, with effects currently unknown to the Travelers and to me.

Looks like Matryoshka can...fold people into herself? Perhaps as a manner of storage, or to take something from them? Sure would fit her name. It’s temporary, though, at most a couple hours, and these three intend to use her powers to escape the quarantine. They’re as good as dead, there’s no way they’ll be captured and sent to the Birdcage. Given how they arrived into this world, they’re going to be executed.

Now that I think about it, the Travelers are real lucky they’re alive in the present How exactly did they manage to escape the quarantine? They don’t even have powers right now, they’re just civilians! Even harder to escape! Maybe they found a guard who sympathizes with them, someone who wasn’t aware they’re incredibly dangerous or didn’t have the willpower not to help them. Hm.

Since there’s a chance one of the people Matryoshka is about to fold may have medical knowledge to save Noelle and Luke, Francis jumps forth, going right ahead and stabbing one of the monsters-or-most-likely-parahumans. Good thing he carried a long weapon! Lets him keep his distance. He does rather well, for someone who would be pretty doomed in any other situation. The guy with the scythes is defeated, Matryoshka is targeted next.

No, Krouse made himself stop, took an account of what he was doing.  He was getting carried away.  He turned to run.

That reminds me, what is everyone else in this place doing? Are Mars and Cody hiding and letting Francis put himself in danger? I mean, that’s kind of the right thing to do – putting yourself in deadly danger is not smart – but I admit by now I expected someone to have intervened and tried to take Francis away.

The guy with the hump says Francis is brave and stupid – guilty as charged, really – and apparently decide to take him along? They’re talking a language I’m not sure if it’s invented or if it exists. Putting it into Google Translator gives me Gaelic, but it doesn’t give me a translation anyway. I guess that means it’s gibberish Mr. Wildbow made up?

Turns out Matroyshka does kind of absorb things from the people she folds! No indication if she decides what she takes or not. Either way, the monsters pin Francis down, and due to the stress of having the Simurgh’s weird-ass singing and having a scythe on his face, he kind of lets himself be taken by the song, and starts to reminisce.

“Noelle,” he mumbled.

“Francis?”

He winced.  “Call me Krouse.  Everyone but my mom does.”

“Krouse,” Noelle tried the word. “Okay.  You want something?”

“Just wanted to talk.  When we were marking each other’s papers in class, I got yours.  I just wanted to say I like the way you think.”

Sounds like this may be the first time Francis and Noelle met. So that may be how the Simurgh manipulates people’s emotions to make them lash out and react...she makes them remember specific moments. Alright!

This first meeting didn’t really go well. Noelle and Francis certainly didn’t hit off right away, she seems to have been kind of cold towards him when he compliments her way of thinking. Mars soon approaches, and she’s also cold. I mean, I can certainly imagine Francis is kind of grating because...he’s kind of a jerk, but part of me wonders if this memory was tampered somehow. Wouldn’t be out of the question when it’s about the Simurgh making remember stuff.

“So I know exactly what to watch out for with you,” Marissa said.  “At any given point in time, you’re pulling some nefarious prank, you’re manipulating others to get what you want, you’re making someone else look bad-”

Tampered or not, she’s saying the truth, haha!

This little flashback also shows how Francis got into the gaming group, she overhead them talking about it, and looks like Noelle got curious about if Francis played. Looks like Francis already knew Luke somewhat, too. Friends already? Regardless, the flashback is over when Mars screams, and not in the memory.

There’s Mars! Currently getting tossed around like a ragdoll. No sign of Cody. Maybe he died already. So, it seems it’s not Mars getting thrown around what made Francis fight again, it’s that they interrupted his reminiscing. Geez! And so he reacts like many people would like to react when someone wakes them up from a pleasant dream: displeased. And by displeased I mean holy crap, Francis, don’t stick your fingers into someone’s fresh wound.

He doesn’t hold himself back! He cuts the scythe guy’s throat. I’m blaming the Simurgh for this rather sudden burst of violence.

There’s Cody! Backed into a corner. Matryoshka doesn’t seem to be doing well, and the other monster is getting closer to Francis. Once he tells everyone to run and scatter, he runs too, and the monster keeps chasing him, without much trouble, until he has no option but to fight.

He stabbed at her hand with the knife, and felt a fierce agony tear through his own hand.

Blood welled out from his palm, warm as it ran down his arm to his elbow.  Krouse screamed.

No, he didn’t stab himself in his own hand while he was trying to fight back – although I’m sure that’d happen to a lot of people. What happens is that this woman’s parahuman power is to reflect back damage. Doesn’t make her impervious, it just reflects back. That’s going to be a pain to fight, no pun intended.

Or not! A pair of parahumans take care of this, and not lightly. They pretty much set her on fire, and it doesn’t seem like the damage reflection activated, or they had a way to counter it. Oh well. What matters is that that woman is now deceased, and Francis is in no danger anymore.

His immediate action is to ask for help for Noelle. He doesn’t get to ask for it before getting interrupted.

“That was reckless,” Myrddin said, speaking over Krouse.  “Attacking when we didn’t know the particulars of her power.”

I mean, when has Francis ever done something that’s a good idea against people with powers. Some things never change. One paragraph later, it turns out that was directed at the guy who set her on fire, not at Francis. Anyway! Brushing aside this embarrassing moment for me!

Francis keeps asking for help, they keep ignoring his words, instead notifying Dragon someone is in need of medical attention.

“Two hundred feet away, down your four o’clock, Armsmaster.”

Oh! This is Armsmaster! How neat. Here, let me amend what I said not long ago: “I mean, when has Armsmaster ever done something that’s a good idea at all”. Not thinking things through was his MO. He’s somewhat getting better at that now that Dragon is around.

“How are we for exposure?”

“You two are good for another seventeen minutes at the exposure you’re facing.  Twenty if we push it.  I can have a flight unit to you shortly.”

Aha, so it’s at least seventeen minutes before someone exposed to the Simurgh’s song is considered doomed and needs to be killed, I think. Well there’s absolutely no doubt to me by now Francis and pals have crossed the threshold already. It must have been around a couple hours. Funny how life can change that much in the matter of just a couple hours.

The fight against the Simurgh is going well, somehow, and they’re doubling down quarantine, most likely to ensure any parahumans brought by the portals don’t escape the perimeter. Dragon also notifies they’re taking some sort of measure, and the parahuman who is with Armsmaster – Myrddin, she’s called. I think I have heard that name before? – doesn’t like that measure, even asking Dragon to argue back. Dragon, in all her AI glory, states she’s just following orders.

I was about to ask if Armsmaster and Myrddin just ignoring Francis standing right there to a side, but then I reread and noticed Francis seems to have been turned into some kind of ghost. Trying to keep him hidden from the heroes, hm! Not that it’s a bad thing, Francis may be left for dead for all the exposure to the Simurgh. No wonder he wasn’t being listened to, he’s like...transparent now.

Among the rubble of the stuff that fell into this world, there’s a building that seems to have been part of a laboratory. Armsmaster wants to take a look and deduce from where all this came from, but Myrddin insists they have to get done with their task and get out. Minimize exposure, you know! And since the consequence of not doing that is, you know, death, I agree with her.

“I get bad interactions if I transition something in of one of my dimensions and back, or if I take things out of one dimension and put them into another.  It doesn’t compartmentalize into the dimension properly if it’s been elsewhere too recently.  Whether these people and objects came from somewhere halfway across the globe or some pocket dimension, I don’t think we want to test our luck and risk something disastrous.”

Krouse startled at that.  Is that what happened to me?  Some bad interaction of interdimensional crap?

Pretty unlikely. If Myrddin had used her power on him, I think she’d have said something, or Armsmaster would have noticed. Unless Francis means he being in this world in the first place, in which case, yeah, that’s what happened to you. Blame the flying Endbringer over there.

Is Armsmaster suggesting to use white phosphor for something? Because that’s not a good omen. My immediate thought is that he’s suggesting they use white phosphor to obliterate the perimeter. Needless to say, everyone and everything inside is toast if they do. I once read a book that had white phosphorus used, and the description of the effect was anything but pleasant. Better get out while you can, Francis, seems to me time’s running out.

Once Myrddin and Armsmaster leave, Francis is once again taken by his memories, this time of a less happy moment, when Noelle is unhappy and he doesn’t know why. She’s even saying the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine. They’re a pair, so this can’t be a breakup – a successful one, at least. The wording does hint she wants to get away from him, and that he has been a great person.

When she said she herself was why she wanted to break up, she meant it. Francis doesn’t have the slightest idea what she’s talking about, but judging by...

“Someone said, a little while ago,” Noelle spoke without looking at Krouse, “That I can’t really forge a good relationship with others until I have a good relationship with myself.”

...this, there’s something about herself she doesn’t like. Must be something rather big, if she can’t bring herself to have good relationship with others because of it.

Francis is being nice for once and is trying his best to be encouraging, telling her that she’s fantastic, but she insists they shouldn’t date. That opinion doesn’t change when Francis adds Noelle’s been happier ever since they started dating, and it’s not a platitude, Mars has said that too. But if Noelle says they should break up because this is bad for her, then he’s willing to accept it. Seriously, this has got to be the nicest Francis has been towards anyone in this entire story.

He even offers to leave the gaming team. She doesn’t want him to, and even tells him to forget she even mentioned this, conveniently leaving her thoughts a mystery to the reader. What could it be she’s feeling about herself that makes her dislike herself so much?

The memory ends, and Francis finds himself already rooting into the fallen laboratory, deciding to look around to see if there’s anything that could be of help, like a first aid kit. Well that’s going to be useful for Luke, but Noelle’s going to need something far better than that, if he finds any.

His eyes settled on a metal briefcase beneath the desk, within a few feet of the dead man’s hand.

His fingers crossed for a portable case of medical supplies, he set it down on the desk and popped it open.  Disappointment overwhelmed him.

Six metal canisters recessed in black foam with slots cut out to hold them, paperwork was set in a flap in the lid.

He swore.

…newly purchased superpowers…

...

...

...

...well seeing how Alexandria got better from a terminal disease after getting superpowers, I guess that counts as something far better. She got a much worse deal than Alexandria did, though. Everything in Worm has been a continuous source of grief for her. She’s not happy with Francis because of how she feels about herself, she gets concussions and internal bleeding, and when she gets to have some sort of superpower, she gets one that’s so bad she has to be locked in a vault out of fear she’s going to destroy everything. Worm treats Noelle rather cruelly.

Also, I absolutely love how Armsmaster almost may have been able to stop the creation of an entire villain team if he had been allowed to check the laboratory. Thanks a lot, Myrddin, you are indirectly responsible for the creation of like five new villains. Stellar work. At least Armsmaster only created one!

Francis confirms these are certainly superpowers in a vial – courtesy of Cauldron, no doubt. Does Cauldron know the Travelers gained their powers from their serums? I imagine they may know, surely they must keep a record of what powers get sold.

Taking the metal case with him, Francis decides to return back to the rest of his friends and also Cody, unwittingly kickstarting some rather unfun days for them all except whoever won’t be part of the Travelers. Fun how a series of coincidences led to that. Seriously, so much happened because Francis was in the right place at the right time.

I’m still unsure what happened with Francis turning all intangible and invisible earlier, though. Was it really Myrddin, accidentally doing that? Or was it someone else? I don’t have it clear at all, I admit. If someone can send me a message about it I’d be real grateful.

Ending the update here!

Next time: next update

[r-ahh-mi]

You Got What I Need (Part Four)

Part One II Part Two II Part Three

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, Swearing, Alcohol Usage, and Sexual Content.

Word Count: 5.7k

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Thursday. You now had one more day until you were formally introduced to your child and one last set of agonizing 24 hours which you could tell Rami about everything.

You’d picked up your phone and typed out a text nearly 10 times and had your finger hovering over the call button on his contact, but you never could bring yourself to follow through with it. You just couldn’t. Not when you both were not doing so hot, friendship wise, not to mention, he was at the peak in his career and you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him and take away all he’s worked hard for. 

He was so fucking talented, even you could see that from working with him and browsing his work. A baby would mess it up and you’d be willing for it to mess up your life plans, as long as it meant Rami could keep on keeping on with what he had going for him.

God, I knew I never should’ve had sex with him.

An attempt at one night stands never ended well with you - you either fell hopelessly for them and then had your feelings hurt or dated them and, once again, got your feelings hurt. When you’d first met Rami you knew that feeling was there, you weren’t sure if it was intimate feelings, sexual feelings, or just a natural bond you guys had right from the start, but as soon as alcohol was in both of your systems with music blaring and celebration on the rise, it was clear you both wanted one another, sexually, that is; at least right at that moment it was purely sexual.

On your end, you could feel the little smile that naturally spread onto your facial features when his notifications would pop up on your phone or when he’d grab his and her’s coffee for you and him when he’d show up to work. Your friendship and sexual feelings were developing into this giant ball of much deeper and intimate desires that you wanted from him and, the worst part is, you couldn’t even do anything about them. Especially not now with millisecond glances being the only thing keeping you both still acknowledging one another.

You adored going to work before, but now you were almost grateful for your early morning and late night calls because it was the only thing that still gave you time to see him and watch him talk to other people and smile as he engaged in friendly conversation with the other actors and even though you so badly wanted that to be you engaging in playful banter with Rami, you were thankful you were, at the very least, still able to see him in some way or another.

These flashback were the only thing keeping your current morning commute to work somewhat tolerable, but the couple sitting across from you engaging in loving hand holds and little kisses were not supporting your ‘independent pregnant chick’ vibe that you were trying to embracing, but failing miserably at.

You were terrified.

You would eventually begin showing your baby weight and then what? You’d probably have to be asked to be written out of the show, which was the first big role you’d gotten so far in your career and then what would be your excuse for having to leave the show? I’m sure word would eventually get back to Rami or he would at least notice I’d stop showing up to work.

On the other hand, you didn’t have to keep the baby and your life could remain the very same. You weren’t opposed to the idea of abortion what so ever, but it just felt wrong to you to go through with such a thing without the fathers consent. It was, after all, half yours and half his DNA.

Ours, the baby was ours.

You shook your head as your train stop blared through the speakers inside the train car, making you quickly gather up your belongings and quickly head for the parted train doors.

With headphones in your ears and a coffee in your hand, your brisk walk through a snowy New York seemed tolerable today. The wind wasn’t being overly expressive and there wasn’t a ton of people out, assuming because of how early it was in the morning. 

4 am wake up calls were not your favorite, but at least they involved less bumping and ‘excuse me’ from strangers, and the director just had to have the proper, early morning lighting for the scene you happened to be shooting today.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up.” The high pitched voice of one of the film crew members was trailing hot behind me as she ran, to the best of her ability, in her chunky healed boots.

“Hi”, I gave her a friendly greeting. I had only spoken with her a couple times, but our interactions were always fairly casual and she seemed nice enough.

“I’m so happy I caught you. I wanted to ask you something and I think you’re the only one who could help me out.”

You looked at her quizzically as you both walked at the same even pace, “Okay, what’s up?”

“You’re friends with Rami right?”

Friends. Hmm. Right now? No. We were anything but friends.

“Uhh.. I guess you could say that.”

She nodded quickly as she took a sip of her coffee, “What do you think of him? Like is he nice? I already know he’s cute, but like...I don’t know, what’s his personality like?”

What was he like. Cute, she had that one right, he is damn cute and his personality. Well, he was social, but also very keen on listening to others, he adored being at home, rather than indulging in the night life of New York, and lastly he was kind. Now, kind was such a simple word, but yet so accurate when it came to him.

He was constantly checking in on those involved in his life, always attempting his best to cheer anyone up when it was needed, and never ever judging of you or your behaviors and choices.

He is an amazing person. Amazing suits him perfectly.

“He’s amazing”

“Oh, I’m sure he is, but can you be more specific? It’s just that, he asked me to go out with him tomorrow night and I-“

He what?

“He asked you out?”, the girl nodded in response with a giddy little grin on her face.

I remember that smile, i had it to when Rami had expressed interest in us hanging out, before sex and feelings were involved; I crave those days.

You kept your expression blank, not able to fake a smile, but also not wanting to show how enraged you were at the sheer thought of him asking another women out, but could you blame him? It had been two weeks since you last spoke and it’s not like you guys ever had a romantic relationship so there was no need to hold back on approaching other potential lovers.

Now, that didn’t mean you still didn’t feel like shit hearing that he was moving on. He was obviously thinking of other women and most likely thinking of them romantically or sexually or both and that ripped you apart and the worst part was you couldn’t show it. No one had a clue about your sexual relationship with him, except for him and you. To top it off, your urges to be more than friends with him we’re hidden to others, your best friend didn’t know, your mother didn’t know - you wanted to be his so badly, but that wasn’t going to happen.

No matter how much you craved and no matter how much you hurt, nothing would come of this pain except more and more pings in your chest as your heart strings snapped and tore apart.

“You okay?”, the girl asked, clearly concerned at my lack of a response and, no doubt, the deep in thought look on my face.

I put on my bravest fake closed smile and nodded, “Yeah, totally. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugged, “You two were pretty close at that party a couple months ago so I don’t want to interfere with anything or make things weird-“

“You’re fine”, You interrupted, “he’s just a friend..not even a friend...he’s a friendly acquaintance.”

She nodded reassuringly and took another sip of her coffee as you both approached the studio. Scanning your badge, to gain access into the building, and whose the first person you see.

Of course, it’s Rami.

“Hi Rami,” the girl immediately greeted him, making him turn his eyes away from his phone and towards the direction of the two of you.

He gave her a flirty smile, but not before making stone cold eye contact with you.

“Hi”, he said to her, but held direct eye contact with you for a split second, before summoning up a smile and flashing it towards the girl.

What an ass.

Confidentially, you waltzed right past him, lightly brushing your shoulder against his as your high heels clicked across the cement floors. You headed to search around the studio for a safe space to put your personal belongings, before everyone gathered in the van that would take them to the shooting destination for the day. Your mind was much too busy cussing Rami out though, for you to fully concentrate.

Really? Moving on already? Fuck, he was probably fucking loads of women behind my back anyways...but it wasn’t even behind my back because we weren’t an exclusive item and- fuck! Everything just feels so intense right now and to top it off I’m fucking pregnant and I don’t know how this could get any worse, I honest to god can’t imagine it getting any worse than things were right now.

“You ready?”

You were surprised to hear Rami’s voice, directly behind you, surely he couldn’t be talking to you, but You were wrong as you turned around and saw him making eye contact with you.

Quickly, you glanced around the room, but it was only you..and Rami; just the two of you being in a room alone again felt so foreign and yet you wanted nothing more than to press your body against his in a tight hug. Even though you saw him nearly everyday, you still missed him; the side you got to see of him. The much more laid back and relaxed Rami who wasn’t multitasking with being social and trying to nail a scene.

“Yes, I’m talking to you”, he snickered as he leaned his hip against the door frame. “Everyone’s getting in the van and they asked me to come look for you.”

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape and you muttered a swear word as you gathered whatever you didn’t need for the day and set it on a nearby table.

“God, I forgot how slow you are”, Rami chuckled from the doorway as you glared over in his direction, but both of you soon fell into a comfortable laughter.

He looked divine. Sure he was only wearing jeans and a casual t shirt, but god he wore everything right and god did he look soooooo right. The veins in his arms were prominent as he crossed them in front of his chest, his dark jeans hugged his thighs just right and-

Rami cleared his throat, sending your mind into a mental panic as you realized you were just standing there, pretty evidently, eyeing him up. You dared to move your eyes up to his face where his lips were pursed with a small smile on them.

“Don’t even say it,” you said as you fast walked past him, heading for the main door.

“No idea what you’re talking about”, Rami called after you as he sped up his pace to match yours.

You hummed an ‘mmhmm’ as Rami quickly placed his hand on the door, holding it so no one could get in and no one could get out.

“What are you doing,” You said confused, looking up at him.

Rami didn’t say anything right away, but merely stared at you, palm still pressed against the door.

“Wanna hang out tonight?”

“What?”, you questioned.

You both were going from zero communication for weeks to him asking you to hang out and by hang out that usually meant fuck each others brains out.

“It’s my cousins birthday party tonight and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.”

I swear to god, no matter how much time I spent with Rami I nearly never expected what came out of his mouth or the actions he took. He was so unpredictable when you really got to know him and it was such a cute side to him that I secretly loved that only I got to see. Well, I guess I wasn’t the only one to see it, but I’d hope he had some sort of mannerism that he felt comfortable only showing to me, but this, I was definitely not expecting this. 

“Why don’t you ask, what’s her name?”

“Ashley.”

Sure, sounds familiar.

“I guess? Tall girl who works with the film crew and going on a date with you tomorrow?”, Rami nodded and smirked at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body.

“Jealous?”

“Maybe”, you teased, giving him a dose of his own medicine as you eyed his body.

God, I miss that body.

He tucked his lips together and popped them back out as he continued eyeing you up, taking and concealing mental images of you for when he was alone..and needy.

“So, do you want to go with me or not?”

The pro’s: you would be able to spend time with the boy who you were currently falling head over heels for, you would have a good night out, which you hadn’t had in a long while, and, lastly, you could maybe find time to tell him about your appointment for tomorrow. Maybe.

The cons: you wouldn’t be able to drink alcohol, but hey, better get used to it, right?

“Sure”, you smiled at him, “Now, can we get back to work please?”

Rami smirked down at your short form as he removed his hand from the door and popped it open, holding it for you as you walked through. “Thanks Ram.”

He watched as you walked in front of him, admiring the way your hips swayed, in your tight jeans, to an invisible rhythm. He bit his lip as he trailed behind you as you both situated yourself in the van.You immediately sought shelter in the very backseat of the van, attempting to gain some privacy so you could rehearse the scene in your head, however, Rami decided now was a fucking fantastic time to sit right next to you.

You two hadn’t been this close to one another in, what felt like, forever. His hand was sat rested on top of the seat, his fingertips playing with the fabric of your coat which was draped behind you, and even that felt reassuring to you because, it took all of a small conversation and invitation to a night out for you both to be back to your normal, flirty selves. Was it really suppose to be that easy? Like a small lovers tiff and then you both bounce right back? 

I don’t think we could be more stubborn and ridiculous if we tried, especially me.

Maybe you could tell him about everything, about the pregnancy, well I suppose potential, and your feelings for him that were venturing more towards wanting an actual relationship. After all, if you were both going to have a child together, wouldn’t it be better if both of the child's parents at least attempted some sort of romantic relationship? 

Rami’s hand relaxing onto your thigh dragged you out of your sentimental thoughts as he lovingly caressed your denim covered leg. You looked over to him and he lazily moved his eyes over to yours; smile gracing his gorgeous lips and a dark colored beanie sat atop his head.

“Ready for the scene today?”

You nodded, maintaining eye contact as your head rested against the back of the seat. You’d nearly forgotten about the scene you were filming today with Rami - a spontaneous little kissing scene, which wasn’t the norm for your usually cold and quiet character, but Rami’s character had been slowly breaking her shell open and the most ironic thing about it was how accurate it was to what Rami was doing to you, but the real you, not your character.

 “I think we’ve practiced kissing enough for us to absolutely nail this scene, don’t you think?”

He chuckled and brought his hand up to your cheek, massaging the blushed skin with his thumb, “Doesn’t hurt to practice a little more, you know, so it’s fresh in your mind.”

You raised your eye brow at him as he leaned into your body, resting your foreheads together, “Please?”, he whispered against as he dragged the tip of his nose along your cheek.

You were surprised at his request, but, let’s not kid ourselves, you were craving him and the sooner you could touch some sort of skin against his, the better.

Ever so gently, you pressed your lips to his. It was that sort of feeling of going back home and visiting family after not seeing them for a long period of time, except it was only two weeks since you’d last been on good speaking terms, and it was entirely your fault that this silly little argument even occurred in the first place.

His palm pressed with a bit more pressure into your cheek as you both continued pushing gentle pecks against each others lips. His tongue only slightly peeked out of his mouth before you began returning your kisses with an open mouth, craving his tongue laced with yours. 

Who knows how many minutes passed and honestly, who fucking cared, because you were cherishing this moment as if it were a reunion, which, I suppose it was in some shape or form. 

Rami’s hand had slipped under your blouse slightly, caressing your stomach with his fingers as you both continued to make out in the backseat of the van which was taking you to go make out some more on camera - and you were getting paid to do all of this.

Best. Job. Ever.

The vehicle came to a gentle stop and Rami pulled his mouth away from yours and sent a kiss to your cheek, “I missed you.”

____________________________________

The cozy bar was full of friends and family members and everyone in between as Rami guided you into a booth for you both to claim as your own for the evening.

Oddly, you were a bundle of nerves as you prepared to meet some of Rami’s family; you’d hadn’t met any of his family members before and you wanted to make a good impression on them, seeing as you would be having a new bundle of joy to add to their family in the next several months.

Fuck, I still need to tell him, but how? How does one break the news to their ‘baby daddy’, so to speak, that you are indeed pregnant, even though you had initially thought you were not pregnant. Was there ever an appropriate time for that sort of discussion? God, this would be so much easier if i could drink; drunk me loves telling all my secrets.

“Want me to grab you a drink?”, Rami asked as he shuffled his arms out of his coat and set it in the booth.

“Uhm...just water for me.” Rami squinted at you curiously, “C’mon, i’ll get you a gin and tonic like I know you like.”

“No, really i’m fine. I’m trying to, ya know, cut back on drinking.” Rami shrugged at you, “Fine, but i’m getting plastered so get ready to deal with drunk me.”

You smiled and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “Sounds good to me. You’re a cute drunk.”

“Shush,” he said before waltzing over to the bar, letting your hand gently fall out of his and onto the table. You gazed at his back as he leaned his forearms against the bar and pulled his phone out of his back pocket, mindlessly tapping away at his keyboard.

Your eyes glanced around the room as you took in your surroundings and noticed all sorts of people, most who seemed to be quite familiar and comfortable with one another; you assumed they must all be family members by the way they laughed and affectionately hugged one another.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

The voice was familiar and the face was equally familiar, but it wasn’t exactly the person who had initially thought it belonged to.

They must be cousins or something, but they looked like carbon copies of each other, how was that possible?

“No, uhm…no. Go for it.”

He glanced at your stuttering form as you kept your eyes on him as he sat in the booth next to you, most likely wondering what sort of drugs you were on and who you knew in order to get into this party.

“I see you two have met”, Rami said as he set the two glasses down on the table and hugged the man who just sat down.

“Y/N this is Sami, he’s my brother. Sami this is Y/N, she’s my…” your mind was too busy glancing between the two of them for you to hear the last part of Rami’s introduction.

There’s two of them. Holy mother of god.

“Oh, so you’re Y/N. Nice to meet you”, Sami extended his hand out to you as you both engaged in a friendly handshake just as a woman, carrying a babies car seat, took the spot next to him and placed a kiss to his cheek.

“This is my wife, Vanessa, and the sleeping ball of hair in there is Ian,” he signaled, pointing to the carrier. After sending a friendly smile towards his beloved, you peaked inside to see a sleeping infant who did indeed have a lot of hair and a relaxed expression on his small facial features.

“Wake him up, I want to see my favorite nephew”, Rami said as he lightly tickled the babies sock clad foot, attempting to make him stir even a little.

Sami playfully smacked his hand away as Rami kept his eyes fixed on the child, “Let him sleep, asshole. He hasn’t been sleeping well at night as of late.”

Your face held a sad smile as you watched the way Rami sipped on his whiskey and kept glancing down at the tiny human while maintang a casual conversation with his sibling. The amount of interest he held for that child made you feel so bad for not keeping him as informed as you should have, regardless of what terms either of you were on with one another. He deserved to know and be with you tomorrow when you got the ultrasound.

I have to tell him tonight. He’d probably be angry at me for keeping it from him for a couple days, but, regardless, he needed to know and I wanted him to know. I wanted to have him there with me tomorrow.

“So, you’re the guy whose been fucking my brother.”

“Sami!”, his wife smacked his arm, shooting him daggers with her eyes.

“What, it’s true!”

You turned to Rami as he hid his laughter behind his alcoholic beverage as he took a small sip. “Telling people about me, hmm?”, you quietly said to him as you moved your lips to his ear.

He shrugged as he placed his drink on the table and moved his palm to your crossed leg.

“Did i tell you how good you look tonight?”

“Only like five times on the Uber ride over here. Keep it in your pants Malek.” Rami smirked down at you as he squeezed your thigh.

“You and I both know you don’t want me to do that.”

Goosebumps began to rise, at an alarming rate, on your freckled arms as you took a brief sip of your drink; mainly to cover up the wicked smirk that threatened to reveal itself on your face, but also partially to give you time to map out where the bathroom in this dive bar was, you know, just in case a quickie was in need for the evening.

Surprisingly, you and Rami had never entertained the idea of sneaking away to have bathroom sex - you began scolding yourself for not think of this idea sooner.

Work, the bar, award shows...we could’ve had sex in that ice cream parlor too. Damn it.

Rami Brought his arm around the back of the booth, nearly laying it across the back of your shoulders, as his fingers began to massage the nape of your neck - with just enough pressure, he wrapped his hand around your tension filled muscles and soothed them with the pads of fingers pressing into and working them.

Quiet moans left your lips as you reveled in the relaxation Rami was bringing to your aching muscles. Your eyelids began to close as the pressure he was applying began to intensify. Rami enjoyed watching your face twist and turn every time you let out a noise of pleasure or bobbed your head slightly, letting him know that he was doing something right and something that brought you enjoyment. Not to mention, the noises you were making brought on a feeling of want to him; or rather to his cock.

The growing bulge in his pants was becoming too much for him to bare, not to mention difficult to cover with a medium sized glass of whiskey, but he kept on, almost teasing himself, as he gave you this non sexual pleasure that was making his pulse race just at the sight and sounds of you.

“You like that?”, Rami whispered as he kept up his soothing movements on your neck. You responded with a slight nod and quiet whine as he began to guide the top of your spin in a circular motion.

You heard Rami let out a small guttural moan, making your eyes open and glance in his direction.

His eyes were hazed over, almost cloudy, as he hitched his teeth to his bottom lip. “What are you thinking about?”

Rami shrugged his shoulders upwards as he removed his hand, something you severely protested with your puppy dog eyes, and propped his hand up on the table to assist him in standing up.

“Where are you going?”, you questioned. He smirked at you as he walked away silently towards the bar and placed his empty glass onto the counter. You were deeply confused as he started heading for an open door way, but not before he tapped his phone, attempting to signal something to you, but you just weren’t quite catching it.

After a minute you heard your phone loudly vibrate against the glass of the table, Rami’s name flashing across the screen with the message, ‘Meet me in the bathroom in 5 minutes. k?’ being lit up.

With a smirk you swiped on your phone and began tapping away onto the keyboard.

-

Y/N: Can’t wait til we get back to your place huh?

Rami: Just get your sexy ass in this bathroom.

Y/N: But i’m having so much fun thinking about you jerking off in a sleazy bar’s bathroom babe.

Rami: I swear to god.

-

A smirk spread across your face as you set your phone in the pocket of your jeans, lightly brushing something invisible off of your lap and standing up, awkwardly looking around, ensuring that no one had caught on to you both, but of course, one man had. Sami sent a chuckled nod in your direction as he ‘shooed’ you away with his hand teasingly, just as his tiny infant began to stir and let out soft cries.

Their poor parents - i’m sure they were a handful growing up.

Several strides later and you were fixing your hand for the bathroom door, turning the knob in your palm. 

“Took ya long enough.”

“Shut up,” you yanked Rami’s lips down to yours as you grasped the back of his neck, roughly tugging it down to match your slightly over 5 foot tall body. Rami was just as hungry for you as he quickly undid his belt and you began unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down your legs.

Once you were both partially undressed, your lips returned to one anothers, hungrily devouring the other as Rami settled his hands on your waist, lifting your body up to place it on top of the sink.

Your bodies began to bump against each other as you spread your legs and Rami settled in between them, pressing his groin area into yours as your kisses became even more heated and hands became even more needy.

Foreplay wasn’t needed as you both were severely already worked up and craving one another, even though it hadn’t been too terribly long since you were last intimate, or at least, you hadn’t been intimate with anyone other than him...

You shook the thought from your mind, too on fire and lustful to worry about who Rami was fucking, or not fucking and besides, you held his complete attention at the moment and loved that he was this ready for you.

Rami’s hand moved down to your panties, giving you a teasing rub against your core through your panties, as he hooked his finger into the side seam of the lacy fabric, and moved them to the side - much too needy to slide them off your legs.

Your back began to arch into his hand as he massaged your bare, extremely wet, cunt and you wanted nothing more than to have him mercilessly fucking you into this bathroom sink. Your equally neediness was on display as you shimmied Rami’s briefs down his legs, so they could rest at his knee caps. 

“I love it when you’re needy”, Rami groaned as his fingers continued spreading your wetness along every inch of your heat, making you respond with various noises and wiggles of your body.

“Get inside me already.”

“No Foreplay today?”, Rami teased as you grabbed the base of his cock, slowly pumping it up and down. Getting him erect was already taken care of, seeing as he was already pretty hard once you moved the fabric away and let the warm air kiss his skin. The movement was purely for yours and his pleasure as you watched his forehead crease and his lips move into a circle shape as he watched your finger move along the a vein set on his member.

“Need more convincing?”

“Fuck no,” Rami winced as you moved your thumb along a particularly sensitive area.

He playfully shoved your hand away and placed his hand on your thigh to steady himself as you placed your hands on either side of the sink while he roughly thrusted into you. You gripped the porcelain as hard as you could while he continued his rough movements that had you arching your back into him.

“T-too much?”, Rami breathed out, slowing his movements ever so slightly as he kept his eyes on you.

“More, please.” The high pitched moan you let out turned him on so much as he picked his movements back up, slamming into you and back out at an alarming, and incredibly pleasurable rate. 

His hand made its way to the top of the mirror, set behind the sink, as his other hand remained on your thigh, pushing it down as he fucked you so good. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into your body making you both feel an the ultimate elation while attempting to keep your noises down, but when Rami was tipsy he was noisy, but you weren’t complaining.

He was naturally very vocal during sex, but alcohol seemed to heighten it, causing his usually quiet moans and groans to be free flowing and come out at whatever volume they saw fit for the situation and god, was he being a noisy boy right now.

As you both continued performing vigorous thrusting movements into one another, Rami moved his forehead to rest on yours - a go to movement of his as of late. Although your movements were anything but slow and sensual, the way his lips pressed against yours was exactly that. Kissing was something you both didn’t do much during sex, in fact this was the first time.

Your hands crept up to either side of his face as you both continued pressing heated kisses to one another as you both enjoyed a comfortable and fast rhythm. Both of your moans were growing louder and louder as you pulled away from his lips to whisper a faint ‘i’m close’ in his ear.

Rami nodded as he moved his hand down in between your legs and started circling your clit rapidly, bringing you to your orgasm as your body began constricting around his hot cock. 

“You’re so fuc-mmmm-fucking hot,” Rami grunted as your body began to relax, settling to slump against the mirror that was now clad in Rami’s hand prints.

“Cum on my stomach.”

Rami looked at you wide eyed as he pulled out of you, his hard cock dripping with your juices. “You sure?”

“Did I stutter?”, you said in between heavy breaths as you tried to get your breathing back to a normal pace.

Rami smirked at you as he pumped himself at a fast pace; you never let your eyes look away as he pleasured himself, in fact, just the sight was enough to get you aching for him again, especially when he spilled his cum all over your bare stomach.

Deep groans left from his lips as his hand movements began to slow against his skin as he finished off his orgasm with one final deep breath as he leaned his head on your shoulder.

You quietly laughed as he took several fast breaths while you played with the now sweaty hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Once you calm down can you get me a paper towel?”, you spoke lightly as to not ruin the relaxing mood that was now filling the bathroom you had both experienced deep pleasure in.

Hurriedly, Rami moved his head off of your shoulder as he moved to grab a paper towel and rub the results of his orgasm off of your stomach.

“Can we do this more often?”

You nodded with a smile as he tossed the paper towel into the garbage can, “Definitely.

___________________________

Tag List:

@amcquivey @siriuslovesmarlene @sleep-all-day-and-all-night@kellysimagines @everybodyplaythegame @ramibaby @tyferbebe@xoa-lex @runawayxwithme @chibiisaurus @singyourheartout4-rami@hazeleyedbeth @thatramigirl @katiekitty261 @mydogisthebest @killerqueenofthenight @deacytits @notevenlxvely @saviooor @youthtea @amf71010 @bo-queen-rhap 

______________________________

A/N: If you’d like to be added to the tag list, shoot me a message; promise I don’t bite. Hope you all enjoyed this filthy and cute chapter; Love ya!

[menatiera]

hey :D this is for the prompt ask, feel free to ignore though if it doesn't tickle your muses ^^ I wish you would write a fic where Tony, bucky and Steve from your 'just give me a reason verse' interact in a friendly, relaxed, healthy atmosphere? like, way down the line, in a happy universe where they are all older and alive? also I have read in the wiki that the most famous winteriron AU is tattoo artist bucky and florist Tony but never seen much of the sort (1/2)

                                                                                                                            (2/2) but I have never seen much of the sort which is honestly a shame if you ask me.   apart from that, I’m always up for healthy friendships and/or angsty pining xD   I hope at least some of that is interesting to you :D if not that’s totally fine though

So this is the first part of answering your ask! When I started to write, I completely forgot about the request for the JGMAR fic to be in the far future, so I set it up after The Best of You, I hope you don’t mind! Also it’s not exactly fluffy, but its main topic is giving comfort each other when it’s needed, so I hope you don’t mind. ^^ I’ll do the Winteriron fill as soon as I can, too! Thank you so much for the prompt, I had much fun! ^^

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637137

Title: Unbreakable

Pairing: Stuckony (Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark)

Words: 3358

Rated: G

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; (mention of flashbacks, dissociation and kidnapping - but nothing is described)

Summary: “He got used to it like one gets used to their own heartbeat, and it became the natural order of things: Bucky’s deep or Tony’s shallow breaths in his ears are part of the silence that engulfs him up here.“ 

Or: SHIELD puts Steve in a cabin in the woods alone. Luckily Tony and Bucky do their best to make it bearable.

“Turn around seven degrees to the left,” Bucky instructs from the earpiece. Steve obeys, making sure his body language remains relaxed as he does so like it’s entirely accidental that as a result, his drawing on the paper becomes invisible to the cameras.

It isn’t that hard. The sound of the steady breathing over the connection is calming, and probably the only thing that kept Steve sane today.

“Keep drawing,” Tony adds. Apparently, Steve stopped at some point. “We need at least a few minutes of new recording to feed to the system.”

Steve sighs and continues Peggy’s portrait, now at an advanced speed that the cameras can’t see the actual progress. He uses the photo from his compass as a reference, not because he needs it – thank you, eidetic memory –, but because the ones watching him don’t need more clues just how good his memory is.

Tony’s breathing pattern is different from Bucky’s. His is quicker, sharper; he always sounds a bit out of breath. Steve suspects it’s because of the ARC-reactor and the reduced lung capacity caused by it, but never had the guts to actually ask about it. He got used to it like one gets used to their own heartbeat, and it became the natural order of things: Bucky’s deep or Tony’s shallow breaths in his ears are part of the silence that engulfs him up here.

“Alright, done,” Tony announces. “It’s chatty time. How’re you doing, Cap?”

(keep reading under the cut)

“Already better.” Steve stretches his back and leans back in his chair, head tilted left like he could listen better that way. Usually, by now he’d be halfway to the loose floorboard where he hides his StarkPad, and read the newsfeed while talking, but he remains seated this time, focusing fully on the communicator instead. “Wish you could actually be here.”

“That would ruin the point of solitary confinement, you know,” Bucky answers dryly, which is his default nowadays, while at the same time Tony says:

“Do you need us there? You know I could fly there, no problem.”

Tony actually did it once, earning some outraged calls from SHIELD and probably Steve getting back to square zero thanks to this impulsive decision. Tony, being himself, probably counted on that, but also took into account the positive effect his little rebellion had on Steve. It added up to the mere fact that pissing SHIELD off was one of Tony’s favourite pastime activities even before he knew they were HYDRA, and it tripled after. In all honesty, the organization needed a good reminder from time to time just how much were they unable to control Iron Man anyway.

And Steve went for a week after the guerrilla action without flashbacks or lashing out.

“Not without me, not again!” Bucky growls, and Steve’s chest suddenly feels just as tight as it was when he was an asthmatic kid. Only this time it’s a good kinda tightness, filled with warmth.

“I appreciate the offer.” Steve smiles, no matter that his boyfriends – and how crazy it is to even think about them as such – can’t see it. “Just… remind me why am I doing this.”

“To earn SHIELD’s trust.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate to answer, but neither does Tony:

“To fool HYDRA.”

“If  that’s even possible.”

“You managed just fine,” Tony reminds Bucky. Again. Because everyone needs a reminder sometimes, and Steve knows that, and shouldn’t be ashamed for his turn when he’s the one who needs the reassurance. “You got away on your own, and now there’s the three of us, plus the whole team. They don’t have a chance, they won’t even know what hit them.”

“I’d prefer if they’d knew.” Steve closes his eyes and imagines his boyfriends as they talk.

He pictures Bucky’s long hair, the scruff on his face – new additions in this century, along with the profound exhaustion carved into his features somehow. But also there are the things Steve remembers clear as day from  before: the shape of Bucky’s nose and jawline, the affectionate way he sometimes looks at Tony or at Steve - like they are more important than anything in the world -, the mischievous grin when a good idea comes to his mind, the childlike excitement over new discoveries.

And then there’s Tony; brilliant, genius, gorgeous Tony who’s nothing like Howard once you get to know him. Steve in his fantasy traces his fingers through Tony’s goatee that suits him surprisingly well, he conjures up the brown chocolate of Tony’s eyes and the warm twilight of his hair, and his million different smiles.

Steve imagines himself between them as the banter continues in his ear, Bucky insisting on being careful with HYDRA, Tony throwing reassurances left and right, probably to hide his own insecurities. It feels strange to hear Bucky so concerned. Since Steve got this new version of his old friend back, Bucky was adamantly confident in his – in their – abilities any other time. But when it came to HYDRA, the fear they had taught him came with full force and made him insecure and hesitant.

Steve never hates his decades-long freeze-nap as much as he does in these moments. It never ceases to make him mad, and as always anger curls in his guts again, urging him to finally do something instead of sitting around and waiting and planning. No matter that he knows all too well how stupid it would be to break the doors and march into Pierce’s office and strangle him with his own tie, he wants to do that and so much more. But for the ‘so much more’ part to be fulfilled, he has to stay put for a little while.

To be fair, it took the whole team’s combined effort, including Clint, Natasha, Tony, and even Bucky, to stop him when he first learned about Pierce and HYDRA, not three months ago.

The waiting and the feelings of uselessness aren’t any easier now than they were back then.

And… this isn’t something he should be thinking about right now.

“Any news from Clint?” Steve asks, interrupting a debate whether he should eat peanut butter or strawberry jam next morning and which one is more American.

“He’s working.”

Steve can practically see Bucky’s shrug. The answer doesn’t give enough for his mind to drag itself away from upsetting tracks, though.

“No words from him yet, but he’d contact us if he’d need anything,” Tony adds.

“What about Natasha?”

“She’s keeping an eye on your babysitters, don’t worry.” That is the main reason Steve agreed to SHIELD’s request to come to this mountain cabin alone. ‘To clear his head and accommodate to the new circumstances,’ their reasoning said, but Steve didn’t need Bucky’s or Natasha’s snort to know bullshit when someone tried to sock him in the face with it. Of course, it isn’t for Steve’s own good.

They’re trying to break him, isolating him even more from everything he knows, and they’re studying him while doing so.

Luckily for Steve, he isn’t as alone as these morons think. Bucky and Tony make a great effort to keep him not only company, but provide entertainment as well. Well, the performative part is mostly on Tony, but Steve has a suspicion where some of his ideas came from.

And while Steve plays bait and lab rat, the others are using this as a chance for their investigations. Clint disappeared from the radar – got an extended vacation from SHIELD after he had been cleared by their shrinks, justified by the lingering psychological effects of mid-term mind control – and he’s currently using his not-so-legal past connections to learn more about HYDRA. While Natasha starts looking into everyone, including Captain America’s observers and she’s slowly wrapping up the thread,so they know who’s friend and who’s foe when they’re ready to attack.

Steve just wishes he could be more active and useful while they’re waiting for that time.

“Hey. Hey. Stevie!”

He shudders as Bucky uses the old nickname. “What?”

“You didn’t answer,” Tony says, concern audible in his voice, “for a few minutes.”

Oh shit.

“Two minutes and forty-seven seconds,” Bucky probably doesn’t exactly want him to hear the addition, given how quiet it is.

Steve sighs. He’s aware he started to lose time, but it’s hard to keep track of it despite him sticking with a strict daily routine. Sometimes things still just blur together now and again, even with the hidden communicator in his ear. “How much more time do we have?”

“Don’t fret over that now, Sweetcheeks, we have it under control,” Tony reassures him. “What do you need right now?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. That’s the problem, sure. The only thing he can think of right now is out of the question. He wants  them , not just as voices in his ear but in the flesh, right next to him, right in his arms. His throat goes dry at the thought of going home and laying down in the ridiculously massive bed in Tony’s bedroom with the familiar Hogwarts House blankets, and being embraced by his boyfriends. He desires nothing more.

“Just…”

Gosh, he can’t and shouldn’t wish this. His job right now is to be up here, alone and as okay as he can, giving some false data about his endurance to HYDRA agents that are thinking about ways to break him. It’s a mission, it’s his part in their plan. Steve isn’t the type to abandon missions, no matter how meaningless or hard they seem at the time.

The silence stretches between them.

“You should come home,” Bucky says very quietly.

Steve’s laugh sounds like a sob.

“Right now I’m not even sure you’re real,” he admits through gritted teeth. Being weak, being vulnerable is the worst feeling, except that actually admitting these weaknesses are even worse. And even though he’s reasonably confident the surveillance in the house is off the chart momentarily, he can’t be entirely sure.

After all, Bucky fell, and Tony is so much out of his league, how could he be that damn lucky to have them? How could a fairy tale like this be real?

How can he tell if it isn’t just a wild imagination, a symptom of isolation? According to his insufficient knowledge on the subject, this all could be happening in his head. Well, that would be a more rational explanation to the Chitauri Invasion than that ‘a Norse God opened a portal to space above Manhattan with a glowing cube that fell into the ocean seventy years ago.’ And crazy wish-fulfillment is an easier explanation for his relationships than ‘homosexual polyamory is an acceptable lifestyle in the future.’

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky says, indecipherable emotions in his voice. “Hey, uhm, okay. Listen that I’m here. You hear my breathing, and my voice, right? I’m—”

“Rubbish.” Tony has no patience for Bucky’s rambling. For a missed heartbeat, Steve’s sure this is the moment that will burst his mental bubble and leave him an absolute mess. Tony ignores Steve’s sharp breath in favor of continuing. “Your imagination is not nearly good enough to come up with something like me, Sleeping Beauty; therefore we’re real. I’m sorry, these are the cold-hearted facts. I’m unique. And if you really are doubting yourself, then I’ll explain the science behind my repulsor tech, which would probably result in you yawning your pretty blonde head off in boredom and being confused as hell because as much as you learned under my thoughtful guidance, it’s still way above your engineering paygrade.”

“Close your eyes, Stevie,” Bucky jumps in again, not letting Tony finish his monologue. Steve obeys the order without question, as he would do practically anything as long as Bucky calls him like that. “We’ll walk you through this little… experiment and all you have to do is to imagine as vividly as you can, okay?”

“I’ll try to keep it centenarian-appropriate,” Tony adds a little dryly, but then his voice brightens back to its usual level of cheerfulness, and Steve holds back a laugh. The term ‘centenarian-appropriate’ probably isn’t for his sake, but for Bucky’s, who still isn’t exactly comfortable with the physical intimacy beyond a certain point. “So, you’re in our bedroom, laying down on your back - because you still prefer sleeping on your back, right? Good. Imagine it with all your senses – the silk sheet’s touch on your skin, the slight breeze of the AC from above, the smell of the apartment. It’s quiet at the moment. Do you want Jarvis to play some music? He can totally play music anytime—”

Steve, eyes still closed, smiles. “No, it’s okay,” he answers the rhetorical question. “Where are you though?”

“I was gonna get there! At your age you should really be more patient,” Tony huffs. “So I enter the room with James, and we’re chatting about something and laughing—”

“You’re laughing and chatting,” Bucky interrupts. “And I’m listening because I have no other choice. Let’s be realistic.”

“You are no fun, but okay. So we enter, and we see you on the bed draped over like a starfish and— heeey, my ear! You can’t blame me for—”

Steve would die if he could witness the scene in its entirety. He has a suspicion Bucky’s disciplining methods are just as unusual as most of everything that he does, and it’s probably hilarious.

“This is an imaginative exercise for Steve, Tony, try to keep serious!” Bucky scolds.

“What, it’s better if I say he’s tucked away securely in the blankets? Ouch, not  fair, my ribs!”

“We enter and Tony lays down next to you on one side, and I’m on the other,” Bucky takes the story into his own hands. “How do you want to arrange the two of us?”

Steve, who soundlessly laughed in the last minute at their bickering, doesn’t need to think twice. “Can I have you tucked under my arms and held close? Tony’s head on my chest and yours on my shoulder?”

“It’s your fantasy, sweetheart, you can have anything you want.”

Steve feels his ears turning pink by the suggestion. Bright red would probably be a more accurate description, but he refuses to acknowledge this tiny little fact. Is Bucky really flirting with him right now, or is he reading too much into it?

But he’s more relaxed already.

“We agreed on a realistic setting, so no tentacles this time, though,” Tony chirps in. It’s not the first time Steve suspects at least mild mind reading abilities on his side, because somehow he always knows when to intervene for steaming out tension or awkwardness. “That’s for a way naughtier fantasy anyway, I guess.”

By the sound of it, he got smacked on the head this time.

Steve absolutely agrees that it is well deserved.

“So we’re all set in the bed, all close. You can feel our heartbeat, and hear our breathing,” Tony continues. “You do, right? Remember, closed eyes and imagine it right now.”

Steve feels his muscles gone lax as stress bleeds out of him just by the image of this peaceful setting. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“I can’t stay like this long, though, you know me, so I start to play with your hair in, like, ten seconds,” Tony adds. “In my defence, you have beautiful hair, and I like to comb my fingers through it, sue me.”

“I don’t have any problems with staying still and just enjoying the moment,” Bucky’s voice clearly tells he’s smiling. “I’ll just hold your hand.” After a heartbeat’s pause, he adds a bit hastily, “not restraining though.”

“I’ll do the talking, as usual. You always left that to me anyways. Not complaining, I totally love that you listen to me even when it seems like you don’t. Or that you actually tell me when I have to shut up. Most people are too afraid of losing the grace of the billionaire to shut me up, so I appreciate the ones who aren’t. Are you sure you don’t want some background music? How could you fossils even live before portable music? You are the real cryptids, not Bigfoot or Nessie.”

Steve gives up being composed and laughs out loud. “Believe it or not, we listened to our thoughts. I recommend it to you too sometimes.”

“Excuse me, Capsicle, I live off of my thoughts. Our boyfriend’s arm would be a piece of junk otherwise, not counting the fact that SHIELD found you with the help of Stark Tech, too.”

“And for that, I’m really grateful,” Steve admits in all honesty. He wanted to die after the first shock of being in the 21st century, but he wouldn’t barter this time and his place in it for anything by now.

“Don’t expect me to thank you, Mechanic, I’ve kidnapped you for that exact work!” Bucky grumbles again.

“Yeah yeah yeah, it’s always the kidnapping and stuff with you. You could at least, be a polite assassin!”

“I’m not polite,” Bucky fusses and switches the topic back. “How do you feel, Steve?”

“Better,” Steve says, and it’s absolutely true. “I can’t wait to go home and make this fantasy into reality, though.” Again, he feels himself blushing by the mere thought of it.

“As soon as possible. The moment you step your foot in here, you’ll be carried to the bedroom and we won’t let you go,” Bucky promises.

“We’ll lock the doors and tell Romanoff to bring snacks to us.”

“No way,” Steve recoils, taken aback. “I value my life, Tony.”

“Okay, then we’ll tell Barton. If he’s here at the time. He’ll eat half of it during delivery, but won’t mind the task. Or Bruce, if we can convince him to come out of his lab. He’s been playing down there like an excited kid since he’s here. I think he had science withdrawal while on the run and we’re experiencing the symptoms now.”

“Butterfingers will be on snack duty,” Bucky interrupts, and it results in a moment of silence.

“Well, sometimes you’re the clever one among us,” Tony has to admit.

“Since you don’t love me for my dashing looks, I have to be.” Bucky’s tone is drier than the desert.

“If he’s good-looking and you’re clever, what’s left for me?” Steve complains.

“You’re the entertainment,” Tony answers instantly.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the ‘stupidly brave and recklessly kind’ type,” Bucky adds, turning the joke into seriousness without effort. “And I’m the bad guy to remind everyone that we’re running out of time.”

Steve’s heart sinks, but he sighs and nods. “I guess we had more than usual anyway.”

“Just a little bit,” Tony admits, not elaborating what did he do to achieve this feat. “You should sit back like you were when we started and draw a bit so it won’t be suspicious, but they’re just as clueless as ever, I can promise.”

“Steve,” Bucky says, sudden urge in his voice, “if it takes much longer, I’ll break you out.”

“That’s not the plan, Buck.”

“Fuck the plan. If they do this to you for much longer, you can expect a visit from the Winter Soldier. I’ve already kidnapped one of my boyfriends. It’s only fair if I do so with the other one as well.”

Steve tries to swallow back the sudden lump in his throat and does his best not to let tears overflow. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath. “Okay. If it takes much longer, I’ll expect you.”

“Until then, hang on. We’re waiting for you here at home, Steve,” Tony says, and the warmth in his voice  is overwhelming.

“Radio silence for the next twelve hours,” Bucky announces, but instead of the abrupt muteness, Steve still hears his steady, easy breathing.

They never cut the comms completely, not since Steve’s first dissociation up here alone. One of his boyfriends are always at the end of the line, silent companion in the isolation, careful not to talk and startle him somehow out of their planned sessions, but there.

Steve curls back to his original position, pencil at hand and paper in front of him, just the right angle to cover the drawing.

“Home,” he whispers and smiles.

Yeah. He’d go home soon.

[ive-been-worse]

"I do"

A/N: This is my submission for the writing challenge @honey-bee-holly is currently doing. I had a lot of inspiration when I joined and took this prompt (which will be in bold) but lost it somewhere. So I feel like this is very bad and I know that I could have done better but I just have no motivation for this anymore.

Anyway, I was imagining the reader to have a red cap as a father so she's fighting against that personally and that is the reason behind the red hair/eyes

Pairings: Loki x reader, Tony was also in this platonically

Warnings: A bit of reader being uncomfortable and my bad writing.

Your beautiful white dresses trailed behind you as you paced the room. Marriage. You were about to get married. To Loki. Neither of you cared much about the the traditional wedding but you were swayed by your friends. “Breathe, just breathe,” you told yourself. Your hands shook with nerves.

    Soon, it was time. You started walking down the aisle. Tony was giving you away today. Seemed better than having your father do it. Your breath was taken away by Loki’s gorgeous form waiting for you and your mind went back to how you met.

*Flashback to two years ago*l

“Tony!” You shouted, storming into the living room, “I swear to all that is dear to me, if you eat my cereal one more time I’ll-”

  “You’ll what?” Tony cut you off. He had a smug smile on his face knowing no matter what you said you probably wouldn’t follow through.

    “Don’t interrupt me!” You exclaimed, brandishing the cereal box. “I’ll- Well I don’t know what I’ll do but you don’t want to find out!”

    “Now, that is a scary threat,” a new voice joined. The comment made Tony snicker.

    Your eyes flitted to the figure dressed in green. “Don’t,” was the only warning given before the cereal box was thrown at Tony. Admittedly, the newbie had looked familiar and was very handsome.

    Aiming wasn’t your strong suit so it was a surprise when Tony actually was hit by the box. Now, it was your turn to smirk.

    “Such an interesting way to meet someone,” the stranger mused. “Do I get an introduction?”

    “Loki, this is Y/N, our resident pipsqueak. Y/N, this is Loki,” Tony introduced the two of you.

    “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” Loki’s attention was focused on you. His gaze locked on you, taking in your appearance. The most noticeable thing that separates you from everyone else was your piercing red eyes and blood red hair. “It appears to me that you are quite different.”

    “It’s nice to meet you too,” you replied. You tucked your hair behind your ear. His stare made you feel as if he could see into the very depth of your person.

    “The box throwing isn’t even the best part,” Tony joked. “Go on Y/N, tell him.”

    “Tony, I don’t-”

    “Oh come on Y/N, just tell him how spooky you are,” he didn’t let you finish protesting.

    “Fine,” you gave in. “Well, you know when they say ‘be careful of the things that go bump in the night?” Loki nodded. “They normally mean me. Not me directly but the things that I am, unfortunately, linked to”

    “And what might those be?” Loki prompted. You suspected he already knew and just wanted confirmation.

    You shirked from his gaze, “Nothing I want to talk about.”

    The two men stood and watched as you turned and fled to the safety of your bedroom.

*End of flashback*

    Who would’ve guessed that you had met your soon-to-be husband then? You didn’t. At first the two of you would always knock heads and throw sarcastic remarks at each other. Two years later and it was finally your turn. You had the love of your life right in front of you.

    “Do you Y/N L/N take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

    “I do”