#but my “must never ask for help from anyone” ass is interfering

[jesterlaughingstock]

In my sign language learning endeavour sometimes i watch these videos of city names and oh my god like 70% of those cities are the most random middle of nowhere towns that I never heard of before in my life

[liloelsagranger]

Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.” 

[renaerys]

37. For Blossutch 👀 can’t wait to binge read all of these lol -Star

37. “If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

T-posing for feminism.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Dane Blakely was 140 pounds of protein powder in a five and a half foot body, and still he seemed to tower over anyone in his way. He’d cornered So-eun Park on her way to second period because he could not take a hint, and now there was no getting around him.

“I saw you with that loser at the Shankaplex on Saturday, don’t even try to deny it,” Dane said.

So-eun had her back to the lockers, but she held her ground. “Elmer’s not a loser, and it’s none of your business who I go out with.”

Rookie mistake dating the first guy who asked her out when she transferred to Townsville High School at the beginning of the year. So-eun had corrected that poor decision quickly, but Dane was one of those unfortunate guys whose parents had forbidden the word no in their house when he was a child.

“I’m just saying your standards have gone way down.”

“Oh my god, I’m not having this conversation with you.” She went around him, and he didn’t stop her.

“Yeah, fine. If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

There were not many people around to hear, and Dane didn’t shout it, but she suddenly felt a hundred invisible eyes on her all the same. Unthinking, she gripped the collar of her sweater dress and flushed. Her first instinct was to check the length of her skirt, and she flushed even harder, ashamed of her own weakness.

Her second instinct was to jump out of the way of class superstar Blossom Utonium, who’d been making her way down the hall with fire in her eyes.

“What did you just say?” Blossom confronted Dane, who immediately backed up…

…right into a T-posing Butch Jojo.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dane whirled on Butch.

“The lady asked you a question, dude,” Butch said, still T-posing and taking up half the hallway.

So-eun was not the only person to wander over, curious about the confrontation unfolding at the Senior locker bank. From the moment So-eun stepped foot in these halls, she’d learned about the Powerpuff Girls, aka literal Superheroes walking among the mortals. Blossom and her Super sisters were known for interfering in fights and disagreements that got out of hand, since no one was going to go against a girl who could shatter your spine with a flick of her fingers. But Butch and his brothers tended to avoid getting involved in high school drama. So-eun had never even seen him more than twice since the school year started, and only then from afar. It was a big school, and he probably skipped more often than not. Not that she would know; she’d never exchanged more than a passing word with either of the Supers.

“All right, seriously. Get out of my way,” Dane said.

“Butch, don’t you dare. Not until he apologizes to So-eun.”

So-eun startled at all the attention on her. She didn’t think Blossom even knew her name. She was just the newest nobody on campus, one of a thousand students in the Senior class alone.

Dane seemed just as startled, and his gaze flickered to So-eun just staring openly over Blossom’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Blossom said. She had the audacity to snap her fingers in his face.

To Dane’s limited credit, it was easy to forget what Blossom was capable of when she came in such a pretty pink package and a mountain of red hair. “Take a number.”

He tried to get past Blossom this time, and she T-posed to match Butch behind him. The sight was so absurd that So-eun had to cover her mouth not to laugh at Dane whirling in between them like a confused dog confronted with stair guards on all sides.

“What is this?!”

“This is the part where you apologize for slut shaming So-eun,” Blossom said.

“Wow, that’s weak, bro,” Butch said.

“I didn’t!”

“Did that sound like an apology to you, Butch?”

“I think the fuck not.”

More students had gathered around to witness the bizarre turn of events, including Elmer. He casually slipped his hand into So-eun’s. “What’s going on?”

So-eun shook her head. “I think it might be justice.”

“I’m gonna be late for class, just—move!” Dane tried to duck under Butch’s arm, but he bent at the waist (still T-posing) and Dane only succeeded in smacking his head against Butch’s rock-hard tricep. He swore and ping-ponged back into Blossom, bounced off of her knee, and ended up on his ass on the floor.

“Butch, he’s fallen to the floor,” Blossom said.

“Should we help him up?”

“Unfortunately, we’re contractually unable to help unrepentant slut shamers.”

“So unfortunate!”

Dane, now red in the face and breathing hard from the stress, scrambled to his feet by himself. He frothed at the mouth. If Butch were anyone else, So-eun was one hundred percent sure he would have punched him. “Fuck you both.”

“Hey Blossom, is fuck you both Spanish for I’m sorry, you think?”

“I’m afraid it simply isn’t!”

“What a shame!”

The late bell rang, and Blossom didn’t so much as waver from her T-pose. She didn’t care that she’d be marked as tardy. She was not leaving until Dane apologized, and no one else was leaving until she did. Dane seemed to come to the same conclusion as So-eun.

“All right, Jesus Christ. I’m sorry, okay? Fuck.”

“I’m sorry for what?” Blossom swung open her T-pose and looked directly at So-eun, and so did everyone else.

Dane gnashed his teeth. He glanced around at all the other students watching him, recording everything on their phones, not a single person worried about the consequences of being late for class. Finally, he looked up at So-eun, and she squeezed Elmer’s hand harder. “I’m sorry…for slut shaming you.”

Butch whooped. “He did it!” He went in for a high-five with Blossom, and the smack sent a seismic ripple through the hall that rattled the lockers.

“He sure did! Give it up for Dane Blakely, everyone!” Blossom clapped, and others clapped with her. Soon the hall erupted into hoots and hollers of Congratulations! and You did it! as Dane stomped off even redder than before and people recorded his every humiliating moment on their phones.

Everyone dispersed soon after when some teachers came out into the hall to investigate the racket, and So-eun was one of them. When lunch rolled around and she looked around the cafeteria for Elmer, who’d promised to meet up, she found him waving from a table she’d never in her life have expected to sit at.

Bubbles scooted over to make room for So-eun in between Elmer and herself. “Hi, So-eun! We’re in the same block for History, right?”

“Um, yeah?” Of course So-eun knew that, but it was a big class and Bubbles was Bubbles and everyone knew her name like they didn’t know So-eun’s and this was just too weird.

On Bubbles’ other side was Boomer playing a game with Buttercup on someone’s cell phone, while Brick had his Beats on as he copied some of Blossom’s notes and ignored everybody. Blossom herself sat across from So-eun and smiled.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Blossom.” She actually held out her hand to shake as if she weren’t one of the few people every single person in school knew.

So-eun let out a squeak that must have passed for hi, because Blossom smiled wider and elbowed Butch next to her, who was busy shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Mmph,” Butch said, waving to So-eun.

“I’m sorry…what’s happening?” So-eun asked.

“Halo Infinite is happening!” Mike Believe, Wes Goingon, and Kim Chan slid in around Brick and Blossom. “Todd got the advance copy and he’s hosting this weekend!”

Brick looked up from the notes for that one. “I call dibs.”

Bubbles giggled. “You get used to it,” she whispered to So-eun like they were old pals.

What was happening was that her sort of maybe new boyfriend, Elmer Sgloo, had neglected to mention that he’d been close friends with the literal Powerpuff Girls since kindergarten, and now they wanted to welcome So-eun into their extended circle. As in, the definitely not a bunch of losers circle because it was the honest to god Powerpuff Girls and that was kind of a lot for one seventeen-year-old nobody to wrap her head around.

“Oh shit, you guys are going viral! Check it out!” Buttercup passed Butch her phone, which played a video of Butch and Blossom T-posing for feminism. “Who even is that loser?”

“Some chode,” Butch said. “Bane, or something?”

“No one important,” Blossom said as she leaned on Butch’s shoulder to watch the video. “Right, So-eun?”

So-eun put her shoulders back and popped a tater tot into her mouth, feeling like a champion. “Not at all.”

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[recklessmark]

chapter three: i love him forever, is it better than you yet?

—from DISCRETION series

Summary: you incidentally met a notorious CEO and your gut told you that you must claim this man. and even the fact that he’s engaged to someone else didn’t stop you from achieving what you want.

Pairing: CEO! Mark x Designer! Reader

Words: 1620

Warnings: none

—previous: chapter two-encounter

Ever since the day you met Kim Yeri, you haven’t even contacted Alicia. You’re busy designing the wedding dress for your rival. It sounds hilarious, you know though. You tiredly stretch out your shoulders, finding a contact in your phone.

“Hello?”, a low voice answers.

“Mark, it’s me. The wedding dress is done, do you want to have a look?”

“I’m having a meeting. Alright, you bring the dress to her house, just let her decide.”

You smirk, “You’re bold huh? Let your lovely fiancé meet her rival at her own house. You’re always provoking me!”. Hanging up the phone, you sigh. Your fingertips trace up the white fabric, mumbling something.

Following the address Mark sent, you quickly pull up to Yeri’s house. With your arms crossing on your chest, you walk into the villa, followed by a man who is carrying a suitcase.

“Sorry, who do you want to see?”, a woman politely asks.

“Designer, bringing Ms Kim her wedding dress. Can I come in?”

The woman instantly nods, smiling widely she leads you inside. You smirk, seems like this wedding is really important. What could you expect, that’s Mark Lee. Stopping in front of the door, you asked the man to give you the suitcase and walk inside alone. The first sight that you see is a woman sitting next to the balcony, the wind blowing up her hair slightly.

She’s an artist, you remind yourself.

The specific lavender fragrance of you draws Yeri’s attention, she immediately recognizes it. “How could you come here?”

“I don’t like talking, just try this dress on.” You open the suitcase, revealing the wedding dress.

Noticing the doubt in her eyes, you casually sit on the couch. “Don’t worry, I have my own rules. I won’t kill you while you’re trying the dress on, there’s nothing suspicious inside the dress either. Losing my reputation just because of a girl like you is embarrassing.”

Yeri tightens her fists, she doesn’t move a little.

You raise a brow, “What? You don’t like it huh? Mark took his time begging me to bring it here for you and you don’t want it? Haiz alright, I’ll tell him later.”

Seeing you have the intention to leave, Yeri frantically stands up. “Wait! I didn’t mean it. Please wait a minute.”

You happily sit down again, wondering how naive this girl is, to the point it’s ridiculous to you. Mark Lee, there would be a gun to his head and he still never begs anyone for anything. She thinks she’s all that matter huh?

Trying the dress on inside the bathroom, Yeri has to admit your talent although she doesn’t like you. The gown fluffy with layers of velvet fabric, on top is a layer of lace, the white color vibrant as cloud. Some little diamonds are attached to the top of the dress, sparkles like stars. You even bring her a pair of high heels, a pair of velvet gloves and a crystal necklace that goes with the dress. Yeri can’t help but surprised, you’re truly professional and delicate.

“Miss, did you sleep in there?”, your impatience kicking in you, you hate waiting.

Yeri quickly opens the door and steps outside. You stand up, giving the woman an overall look from top to toes.

“No need to look at me with that cautious eyes.”, you mutter out, your hands touch the waist of the dress. “Hmm, your waist is quite small than I estimated. Take it off, I have to fix it.”

Hearing you, she ironically touching her waist. “Really? I think it fits well...”

“Clothes were born to dignify human, at least to me. Furthermore this is your wedding dress, just take it off.” You turn back to sit on the sofa, waiting for Yeri to change.

When she walks out, carrying the white dress with both arms, she hesitantly asks. “When Mark comes he can’t see me wearing it, can him?”

You smirk mockingly, so she wants to dress up prettily for her lover. You don’t mean to look down on her but she’s way more mediocre than you think. “If you want to wear something that doesn’t fit you for that man to see, just keep the dress yourself.”

Yeri heard that, realizes she’s too shallow. On the other hand, your personality seems to match with Mark’s unironically, both of you always seek for perfection.

“You’re definitely the best designer. Mark did found a lot of designers but none of them works delicately like you.”, Yeri hands you the dress, smiling softly.

You put the dress back inside the suitcase, locking it. “Miss girl, I hope that you don’t think that I’m a nice a person. I don’t like you so don’t act like we’re a friends!”, you give her a cold glance. The smile on Yeri’s face faded away slightly. She flattered herself too much, these small reconciliations are like ridiculous kid games to you.

“You really think that Mark will come?”, you naturally flop yourself on the bed.

“What do you mean?”, the girl frowns.

You chuckle, tracing the rings on your fingers. “A soon-married man, despite how busy he is, he will take time to see his future wife in the wedding dress. People always say a woman is prettiest when she wears a wedding dress. So what do you think? Being an artist still requires a grey matter right?”

Yeri’s body shakes lightly, how could she not know. You mean that she’s nothing matter to Mark!

A memory of three years ago playing in her head. When Mark came to her exhibition, she immediately fell for this man. Then Mark occasionally offered Yeri to do some paintings for him, for unknown reasons. The relationship grew up gradually. She has always being so arrogant about her boyfriend, although many women have a dream to be with him but they all gave up without you interfering. She always thought that Mark told them he already had a girlfriend. And now, with your appearance, she realizes she was flattering herself. If she actually thinks about it, why would Mark choose her, a normal artist. She definitely can not compete with you, both appearance and wealthiness.

You smile, “What did you think for so long Ms Kim, Mark texted me to say you sorry cause he can’t come, he’s too busy.”

Yeri frantically snatches your phone, which was being hold in your hand. You smirk, Mark sent it when Yeri was trying the dress on but you want to make the game better. Certainly the woman can see it herself, ‘delivered 30 minutes ago’. She tries to ease her anger, squeezing your phone in her fist. “Why would you do this?”

“Why? Because I like Mark!”

Your words make her mad even more, “Like? You don’t even have the right to say it! I love him, 3 years! Who the hell you think you are? To steal Mark from me?”

Her reaction makes you satisfied. All that naivety, tenderness is a cover for her true being. She’s tearing off her mask now, by herself, in front of you.

“Oh really? So I also love Mark! I love him forever! Is it better than you yet?”

Yeri throws your phone on the floor, “Y/N L/N!”, she screams.

You pick up your shattered phone, shoving it inside your jacket. “Only by saying, ten mouths of yours still can not compete with mine. Look at yourself, I’m cruel, how about you?”

—

You’ve been working your ass off since that day at Yeri’s house, you don’t even have time to see Mark. The dress is done, stored in a suitcase that is probably somewhere in your office, you don’t remember. Your desk is full of white fabric, you tiredly lay your back against the chair, closing your eyes.

Knock! Knock!

“Come in!”, your voice sounds raspy.

You aren’t even bothered to open your eyes but you know for sure who that is by breathing the air. “I don’t want to eat.”

“You wanna die huh?”

“Go out!”

“No!”

You grit your teeth, open your eyes which is displaying some red blood veins due to overworking. “Alicia! What do you want?!”

Alicia almost dropped the tray of sandwich and a glass of milk on her hands. Staring at your eye bags, with the vein showing in your eye balls clearly, she knows that you didn’t sleep for days. “You only drink milk to keep yourself alive, didn’t have a good sleep huh?”

“Yeah the exact moment I’m taking a nap, you come in and disturb me!”

She furiously looks at you, putting the tray of food on your table. “You should eat first. The tickets are booked, the flight is on this Sunday.”

“What’s the day of today?”, you ask, take a bite on the sandwich.

“Miss Y/N, today is Saturday, we’re flying tomorrow!”

You instantly put the halfway-eaten sandwich back on the plate, “Go out, I have a lot of work to do!”, you take a sip of milk.

“Hey but why I can’t call you?”. You glare at the phone on the floor, “Dead”, you sigh.

Alicia picks your phone up and then brings the tray out. You’re having a fashion show in France, but you totally forgot about it, because you were playing too much. Alicia is your manager, she organizes all your works, however she doesn’t know much about the “wedding dress” thing. But you said it’s really important, this “Flechazo” collection of you can not have a single mistake.

Alicia sighs, glancing at the closed door of your office. All of a sudden, the front door is opened.

“I come to see Y/N.”, it’s a familiar voice.

—next: chapter four-you’re my first kiss

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

taglist: @nuoyii @jjikyuu @generantionct @keemburley @skrtbeepbeep @sunshinedhyuck

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 25: Silver Lining

Just another day, like any other. Esredes was on his walk to work, and in a particular mood. His mind was wandering once more as he passed the Vault, to fantasies that faded far beyond reality. Imagine if the Warrior hadn't interfered until Nidhogg reared his ugly head. Imagine if Ysayle had killed the Archbishop, before he could take on his own transformation, and the two of them had dealt with Nidhogg. Esredes hadn't trusted Ishgard's people enough, perhaps even less than Ysayle herself. He was fully mentally prepared for having to subjugate Ishgard to get it to listen to them. But perhaps, as things had turned out, not nearly as many would have needed subjugation. Perhaps he wouldn't need to help manage a fragile, in chaos city-state that had been taken over, especially when so many of his own had nothing even close to management skills, perhaps a proper parley would've been possible. And yet, Esredes pulled himself back to reality and reminded himself, that was never quite the case. Peace had been agreed to, and that was it. Himself and all of his were only here on Ishgard's terms or else, and the rest simply had to be dealt with. Still he went through his days in anticipation of being fired for shining progressives who repeated his ideologies on Ishgard's side, or of his house burning down when he got home. Ah, what would life have been like if he wasn't a failure who couldn't match up to idiotic children with goddess powers? It was a question he asked himself here and there, swirling around with all the others, and in his head, timelines began to split off, mirrors into other worlds for him to glance into. In one, he saw himself back with his family in Thanalan. He lived under a new identity and kept quiet and to himself, always afraid of the Ishgardian government finding him out. He worked a simple job that had him feeling nothing, and though he hoped to earn his parents' forgiveness through it, things didn't really change. Esredes looked away from the mirror and towards the approaching door to his office, and opened it and went inside. He greeted the receptionist as always, then greeted Heilyn and Ferrant, quipped with Heilyn about the fact he would never brush his damn hair properly and it looked like ass or something stupid like that. Work went steady today- Esredes cozied himself up with a cup of white tea and busied himself writing some in depth notes on Dragon Blood observations to use as a reference. With how many people he had encountered here and there who would do any amount of dubious things to obtain such information, the casual scrawl on the paper gave no indication of awareness of this. Just another day, just another paper amongst many, cloaked in the tranquility of absurdity. Another mirror opened in Esredes' head as he worked. In this one, Esredes had gone through with one of his fleeting ideas and fled to the Far East when Ishgard rejoined the Alliance, and oh my, was he lost. Completely out of his depth, he had to fight off multiple people trying to mug him in Kugane until someone watched his latest skirmish and approached him. "You're good with a sword," the man said as Esredes shrunk back and kept his hand wrapped around its handle. "How would you like an opportunity to put it to the test?" And so Esredes watched himself hesitantly agree after sixty and a half questions to work for a Kugane lord as a bodyguard. It was a place to stay and decent pay, to stand around and observe everyone like a hawk. He got to know some people around the home and the streets of Kugane who looked upon him with respect, yet caught himself glancing over the sea even on a good day and remembering everything he left completely behind. Esredes got up to refill his tea, and the mirror closed. Soon after, Heilyn called him over to the office across the hall, and surprised him with a sweater- knit entirely by him in that periwinkle blue reminiscent of Shiva. So that he had more than one sweater, Heilyn said. Esredes smiled and thanked the man back, giving him a soft hug of gratitude. Ferrant was also his usual cheerful self today, asking after if Esredes was feeling all right and letting him know he appreciated him. All very routine, yet he never tired of it. At lunch hour, he had an appointment of the strangest sort, so he retrieved his coat and exited the building and made his way down to the Firmament. Esredes was in a little bit of hot water recently, having chased down a double agent to his people and getting in trouble after he was arrested for the act of vigilantism- as if that was the worst thing he had done while back in the city. And yet the head Inquisitor on the chase wrote to him and invited him out to lunch with his friend who also got involved with the chase. To know them both as a person, she claimed. He was completely lost as to the motivation, but Esredes could tell she was an Inquisitor who had an actual soul, a normal person's thought process. So he accepted and went on a picnic. She served arancini, an imitation recipe from the Far East. Elouan took most of the conversation as Esredes anticipated, and he didn't have to do much work as he listened to her and her bodyguard talk about how much they want to visit the Far East, and Elouan filled them in on his own travels. What a nice and unexpected little bubble in the veil of absurdity. Another mirror manifested during the picnic, and Esredes saw himself with his knees curled up, sitting on the ground in a pathetically tiny cell, and from the expression on his face alone, clearly having lost his mind. He flinched and ignored the mirror after his initial glance, focusing his attention on Elouan's babbling exclusively. When everything wrapped up and he returned for the second half of work, Esredes made a few discreet calls in his office to the network about arrangements for later. A little outing with an actually human Inquisitor was nice, but the man knew what he was, and there was always work to do. He took a break in the middle to move over to the Blue Room for an appointment. Clover's ward Teagan had begun seeing him in the past couple months, a woman rescued from life in a fighting ring in Ul'dah who was still perpetually trying to learn and adjust to life beyond. They always had good discussions, even after he put her to looking into the water. This time, to teach her about Ishgardian culture, he had ended up going into his own story up until everything fell. "How did you do it? Turn it around, I mean? It must have been hard, pulling yourself out of that... how did you manage?" She asked him after that. Esredes had to pause a moment to think about his answer. "I had to take it a day at a time. The other members of the camp were not unsupportive. They were concerned, they wish they knew what to say or do, but I was completely unreachable. So, for one thing, I'm someone who doesn't believe in meeting your death unless you have to. It's more productive to die so someone else lives than to simply off yourself. So every day, it was get from start to finish. There was a routine. Do your tasks, break for meals, read in your tent, avoid talking to anyone any longer than you had to. Keep doing this, and eventually you would either die, or something would happen that you were waiting for. Just, something to happen. It was all I really had besides keeping in mind my family- what if I missed something happening? Eventually, I realized these people were that, people. Who cared. Who did not want to kill me for being a knight as I thought. And I decided that, while I could've fled to Thanalan and tried to live as a normal person, I wanted to stay and make a difference, even a small one. Help people in my situation to be saved and survive, not perish to Ishgard, even if there was no chance of making a bigger difference by that point. And when Ysayle entered the picture, that changed everything, and the rest is history." "I think I can understand that... I, for one, am glad the sun continued to rise for you...that you were able to find reasons to keep going, ways to help people." She gave a small smile. "I bet you've made plenty of differences with all the folks you've helped along your journey. Cause it's not just the big ones that matter, yeah?""Well, had I not been concerned about the small child who was alone in the woods, we wouldn't be here, so yes. And that's what I enjoy about doing this on the side nowadays- the pleasure of seeing it affect individual people in real time. The way I ended up discussing it with another client, is you have to figure out the way to get out of the room. You're in a room, and you can get out and see what's beyond it, but you're just not ready to yet, you find yourself unable. Once you can manage to get out of the room and see what's beyond it, everything becomes a little easier." Teagan tilted her head at this. "A... room? So... you finding the drive to help others helped you open your 'room'?" "It helped me get out of it, yes. I realized I still had something to do and people cared. People really helped a lot, even though I was pushing them away. Just knowing they wanted me to feel better and believed in me as a person.... after everything else fell through, it was all I had." She nodded and smiled a little. "I'm glad you were able to find the door, and that you had people there to help you find the knob." She paused for a brief moment. "... Thank you for sharing your story with me, Esredes. It's been really eye-opening." And so the session concluded, and soon Esredes was back out into the world. First half of the day was over, and then it was time for the second. There was not a formal meeting happening with his people tonight, but instead a get together of sorts at Vette's more recently acquired mansion she had made into a space for all of them to convene safely. Esredes went to and from everybody, making sure everyone was doing well, holding conversations and watching everyone enjoy themselves with a faint smile on his face. He stepped into the bathroom at one point to do his business, and washed his hands after. He was confused why there was a second bathroom mirror for a moment until it began to show him another reality. Esredes stepped back from the sink and put a hand against the wall to his left, the other going over his heart. Reflected back at him in the mirror was a collection of all the people he knew and loved close together, with himself standing further away on the platform and forced to stare at them. A mass public execution. Esredes rushed out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut, pressing his entire body against the door and breathing in and out, in and out. It's not real. It's not real. "Esredes?" Came a gentle voice, as Vette approached the man. She had most definitely felt the spike in distress from the aetherial bond they shared. She asked about how he was doing and put a soft hand to his cheek. "I'm all right, really." Esredes said. "I just had... an unexpected wave of fear come over me." Vette was always in tune with how he felt. She helped him calm down the rest of the way, and then lead him back to the gathering. The anxiety soon faded, and replaced by it, a warm feeling heated the blood inside him. For the rest of the evening, Esredes continued to engage with his family, waves of laughter and elation surging and falling in with the tide. He only hoped that the droplets of gratitude leaking from his fingertips and voice washed over everyone attending like a cool rain on a summer's day, for as he closed his eyes and let each droplet of noise from their voices and words hit him, everything stood right into place where it belonged.

--- @thecalmnessandthestorms / @heartofthefury Heilyn, Ferrant, Sartorius (unnamed mention) @eternal-finis Lieuvanne (unnamed mention) @shieldbcund Elouan @punches-and-cream-puffs Teagan @syerraffxiv Vette

[tickle-bugs]

Reignite

Summary: Dean stumbles--or is cosmically shoved, more like--back upon the largest loose end in his life. This is one knot he won’t leave untied.

Took me a year (couldn’t resist the dad joke) but here’s my SPNFluffsgiving fic! I ended up writing two fics and frankensteining them together because I wasn’t happy with either on their own, and I think, all things considered, it turned out well!!! Tried something new with the present-tense vs my usual past tense, which was very, very hard for some reason. Anyways, enjoy!

Spoilers for Supernatural episode 15 x 19 through the finale ahead!

“What’s eating ya?” Bobby takes a swig of his beer and eyes Dean sideways. 

“Nothin’.” 

“We have all of eternity to sit here. Don’t think I won’t.” Bobby flicks the bottle cap at him and chuckles when it bounces off his shoulder. 

“I like it here. It’s nice. Quiet.”

“But…?” Bobby looks at him in that very Bobby-like way, that strange blend of impatience and kindness that leaves no room to doubt that he cares.  

“Something is just...wrong? I dunno. I felt a little better when Sam got here, but I still have this weight on my chest. Like something is missing. I dunno.” Dean taps his fingers against the beer bottle and slumps down in his chair. He heaves a breath that gets stuck somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“You’re saying ‘I don’t know’ a lot for someone who seems to know exactly what’s buggin’ ya.” Bobby raises his beer in a silent ‘I’ll drink to that’. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be talking to you,” Dean grumbles, kicking a pebble off of the Roadhouse porch. Bobby whips off his hat and smacks Dean’s arm, then his leg, then his stomach which really wasn’t cool. 

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry! Back off!” Dean raises his arms to shield from Bobby’s wrath, biting back a comment about Bobby being a crotchety old man. 

“Think about it. Who’s the only person you haven’t seen since you made it here?” Bobby makes a little bird with his hands and raises his eyebrows as if Dean’s first thought wasn’t of teary blue eyes.

“Cas is in the Empty, Bobby. He’s gone. It just swallowed him like--like nothing.” Dean’s voice breaks and he knocks back his beer to hide it. 

“Jack must have built this magic box wrong. You’re supposed to feel it when a loved one arrives.”

“What?”

“Cas is here, Dean. He helped put this all together.” 

The world shrinks to a pinpoint. The beer bottle slips from Dean’s fingers and his attempt to catch it sends it soaring into the road, where it rolls far enough to qualify as a lost cause. The image of a teary Cas, seconds before destruction, grabs a swift and tight hold of the front of his mind. 

I love you.

“Bobby-”

“Are you really gonna waste your breath arguing with me when I just told you that he’s out there? This may be heaven, but I can still kick your ass.” Bobby narrows his eyes at Dean. 

Why does this feel like a goodbye?

Because it is.

“But-”

“Go after him, Dean.  You made him wait this long already.” Bobby squeezes Dean’s shoulder and shakes him a little, fixing him with those kind-but-tough eyes. Dean sighs and rubs a hand over his face, hissing when cold metal pokes him in the eye.

Baby’s keyring dangles from his finger, clinking gently as it collides with his palm. He sighs and shoves it in his pocket, making sure to shake the little ring off of his finger. 

Weird. 

“Can’t escape what your heart wants.” Bobby gestures towards Dean’s hand with an infuriating little smirk, like he knows something Dean doesn’t. 

“That doesn’t mean jack shit,” Dean grumbles. 

“Sure, and I’m President Roosevelt.” Bobby rolls his eyes. 

“Which one?”

“Teddy, obviously.” Bobby leans back in his seat with a chuckle. Dean scratches at his cheek and grunts when, once again, metal digs into his skin. Baby’s keys jingle menacingly at him, like a pushy set of windchimes, and they don’t budge when he tries to shake them away. He turns his hand upside-down and scrapes the keys off like a stubborn piece of gum, but they reappear in the other hand.

“What the fuck?” He holds them up to eye level and they sway in the breeze, jingling again. He drops them and they zoom right back into his hand, like a lame Mjolnir, and okay, someone has to be messing with him. He shakes them a few times to detect any evil (a foolproof method, in his opinion) and Baby’s car alarm starts blaring much louder than it should.

“Dean.”

“Alright, I’m going!” He trudges away from the porch, grumbling under his breath, and the car’s alarm shuts off with a pleasant chirp.

“Tell him I said hi!” Bobby waves and watches the Impala pull onto the open road, raising his beer until he disappears from Dean’s rearview. 

…

Dean cuts the ignition and slides out of the Impala, squinting against the sudden warm breeze. It’s quiet out here. If it wasn’t for the constant tugging on his soul, like a bratty kid demanding attention, it would be nice. Peaceful, even.

He leans against the bridge railing and closes his eyes against the next gust of wind, this one much more powerful than the first. Everything in the vicinity rustles as the wind dances by. He leans his forehead against his hands and sighs.

What the hell would he even say?

There’s no manual for this, no prior experience or family legend to consult. Jesus, he’s like a teenager trying to apologize for standing up a date. He’d ditched Cas at the celestial prom, and now he has to face the music. No more asking Dad to leave early for the next hunt so he wouldn’t have to face whichever girl he dumped. Grown-ass men face their weird, divine love affairs with dignity, not revenge hookups in the girl’s locker room. 

Highschool Dean would call Present Dean a bitch for even trying to chase after Cas.

Highschool Dean was a dick, anyway. 

Okay, he needs a gameplan. Stay calm, cool, and collected--like he’s working a case. Cas doesn’t need to know about the butterflies rioting in his stomach. Dean would be smooth and chill. They’ll talk like adults--yeah, that’s it. Grown-ass men, and whatnot. He’d just send Cas a message on angel radio, he’d zip on down, and they’d be hunkydory--

“Hello, Dean.”

Shit.

He whips around, his throat already closing up in mutiny. Just seeing Cas is a punch in the gut--he looks just as Dean remembers, if not better. It’s as if not a day has passed since the Bunker, and god, Dean might not be qualified for this. 

Cas smiles timidly as he steps forward, hands shoved awkwardly into his coat pockets. His head’s bowed, as if he’s in trouble, as if Dean would scold him for who fucking knows what, and his blood boils at the thought. 

“Dean?” Cas tilts his head.

Something grips Dean, something powerful and terrifying in its ferocity. A force he doesn’t understand surges at the bounds of his body, welling up into his throat, his heart, his lungs. Tears spill from him at a terrifying rate but he’s numb and aching all at once. He’s shaking--no, trembling--and he pulls Cas into a kiss before he loses his nerve. 

If he could quantify the triumph of nearly two decades of suffocating pining, he’d say it tastes like stale peppermint. He makes a mental note to lecture Cas about his choice in gum later—spearmint is obviously superior. 

Dean pulls away when his gross, sticky hiccups start to interfere with the sweetness of the kiss. He feels disgusting but he couldn’t stop crying if he wanted to. 

Definitely not one of his highlight moments. 

“Cas,” he croaks. Cas, Cas, Cas, loops in his head, interfering with the static everything else he needs to say. A tumultuous wave of words presses against his lips and he focuses all of his energy on getting them out. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright.” Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands, swiping away tears with his thumbs, but he’s sobbing so hard that it doesn’t make a difference. His ‘calm, cool, and collected’ plan is effectively blown to hell and he curses himself for it.  

“You shouldn’t have gone out like that, man. Fuck, I should have said something-”

“Dean, it’s alright--”

“No, it isn’t. I screwed up, Cas. I screwed up so fuckin’ bad.” Dean blinks at a tear-warped Cas, gripping his forearms as if he’d disappear in the breeze. 

“When you said...what you said, I thought it back. It was easier to say in my head but I should’ve said it out loud. You deserve to hear it. You deserve everything.” Speaking his mind is like willingly chugging motor oil. He swallows thickly as his thoughts start to align into some semblance of clarity. 

“You deserved more time,” Cas murmurs, and he has the nerve to look upset. He always wanted to give Dean more, so much more than he ever deserved. 

“Shut up,” Dean growls. Some switch flips in him, some bristly protectiveness that has him wanting to shake the angel like a margarita until he finally admits his worth. 

“Dean--”

“Nope. No more heroic bullshit. You’ve given enough, Cas. It’s enough. You’re enough.” Dean grips Cas’s shoulders and stares him down. Cas opens his mouth to retort but whatever expression is on Dean’s face presumably shuts him up. 

“You’ve always had me, Cas. You will always have me. I have never loved anyone the way I love you.” Finally, finally, the words tumble out without a second thought. Dean’s death grip on Cas’s shoulders loosens. He did it. 

“I love you too, Dean. I’ve loved you since the very beginning.” Cas smiles, as if it’s simple. 

“Gross,” Dean quips on instinct, and he regrets it the second it comes out. 

“You’re gross,” Cas fires back, squinty eyes and all, and Dean barks out a laugh that startles them both.

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, cradling the back of Cas’s neck with his hand, and resolves never to let him go. Never again.

...

“Dean Novak ain’t bad,” Dean murmurs, rubbing a hand over Cas’s bare shoulder. The angel’s nestled into his side, huffing warm breaths into his collarbone, and he would rather die again than forget the feeling of Cas’s sleepwarm skin. 

“Mm. Castiel Winchester.” His lips graze over Dean’s chest in a low effort sort-of kiss. 

“You shouldn’t have to carry that name, after everything.”

“Hyphenation isn’t uncommon. Winchester-Novak?” Cas tilts his head up and scoots just slightly, trying to preserve his warm spot in Dean’s arms. He presses a proper kiss to the base of Dean’s throat and hums when he twitches away. 

“Sounds less like a name and more like a spell.” Dean snorts, and Cas swats his shoulder.

“I fell in love with you, Dean Winchester, and it would be an honor to carry that name. Even if it is completely ceremonial.” Cas turns Dean’s face down towards him, forcing their eyes to meet. Dean’s a little more than breathless at the way Cas’s eyes catch the moonlight but he still manages to grin. 

“Winchester is a dumb name, sorry.” 

“You are blatantly disrespecting my fiancé.” Cas squints at him. 

“Hmm, am I?” Dean’s eyes flit down to Cas’s lips, tongue flicking against his teeth. 

“Yes.”

“Your fiancé is a dumbass for not proposing to you sooner.” Dean cradles the back of Cas’s head, absently scratching his fingers along the scalp.

“He absolutely is. But only I get to say that about him.” Cas’s face settles into a steely neutrality betrayed only by the sparkle in his eye. Dean leans in closer but Cas stops him with a finger over his lips.

“Apologize.”

“Wh--are you serious?” 

“Apologize, Dean.” Cas pushes himself up on his elbow and cocks his eyebrow.

“You want me to apologize...to myself?” Dean chuckles in disbelief, waiting for Cas to admit he’s joking, but all he receives are wide, blinking blue eyes. 

“Perhaps you need some encouragement,” Cas murmurs, his lips quirking into a smirk. Before Dean can protest, Cas throws his leg over Dean’s and buries his nimble fingers into his ribs. 

“Wait, Cas--ahaha!”

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t kind towards yourself, I don’t want to hear them.” Cas leans up to nip at Dean’s ear, burying a few chuckles directly behind it. His fingers trail down Dean’s body, pinching every inch of his ribs and sides.

What leaves Dean next is less words and more a verbal error noise. He arches away, desperately shoving at Cas’s shoulders. All he does is turn himself around, and Cas is very quick to wrap him up in his arms. His fingers press into Dean’s lower stomach and trip over one another like he’s gliding over piano keys. 

Dean curls, arms folded over his middle. Cas manages a cheeky pinch to the back of Dean’s thigh and he squeaks--apparently Cas likes that noise because an avalanche of more pinches follow. 

Dean doesn’t expect him to find that devastating spot near his armpit on the first fucking try, but Cas is full of surprises and Dean is full of laughter. He clamps his arms to his sides but it barely makes a difference. Fireworks overwhelm his nervous system. In Cas’s arms, he feels like he’s flying--but he can’t tell if it’s the lack of air or the endolphins. Endorphins. Whatever. 

“Cas!” His name floats out of Dean, blanketed in crinkly-eyed, heartwarming laughter. It’s all he wants to hear for the rest of eternity. 

“You are everything to me.” Cas doesn’t expect Dean to hear him over his near-violent giggles, but Dean squeezes his wrist twice to acknowledge him where his voice can’t. His fingers slow, gently trailing over pinkened skin, and Dean slowly remembers how to breathe. 

“We can renegotiate the name thing. Maybe,” Dean wheezes, and his shit-eating grin is nearly audible. Cas rolls his eyes and scribbles at Dean’s exposed hip, following each turn, twist, and twitch. For the first few moments, he’s concerningly quiet, only squirming with strangled noises, but within seconds his laughter catches back up with his brain and he’s cackling into the mattress. 

“Maybe? Is that your final answer?”

“Nonono, please Cas!” Dean shrieks, kicking his legs as if it will help. He flails all the way to the edge of the bed but Cas is quick to pull him back into his arms. His tickly touch turns calming in an instant, tracing over muscle lines and battle scars as they both resettle. 

“We’ll work on it. Together.” Cas flips him over and steals a quick kiss, drinking up the leftover laughter. Dean’s joy is sweet on his tongue. 

“Together,” Dean murmurs, leaning their foreheads together. 

Holding his lover—Castiel, his Castiel—in the moonlight is all that Dean Winchester-Novak could ever ask for.

There was happiness in the having, after all. 

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

The 14th Department (AFTERL!FE) Meets the Demon Brothers and Undateables (Obey Me!)

Lucifer

Noah heard he has a dog.  He is staying far away from the pretentious eldest. 

Oldest big brother?  You better believe Youssef finds a kindred spirit, even if they differ wildly in personalities.  

Louis lives for the almost regal aesthetic Lucifer has got going on.  Lucifer, in turn, lives for the day Louis will stop talking.

Quincy finds this whole trip preposterous (“What the heck is the Devildom?  What happened to the Underworld?”) and does not like Lucifer’s condescending attitude (it conflicts with his own!).  

Ethan doesn’t like Lucifer—proud and arrogant people with no reason to be so are not to be respected.  Lucifer despises Ethan for the same reason.

Day!  Will!  Not!  Go!  Near!  Lucifer!  He’s so scary!  But Cerberus is his best friend now (Nine-Nine who?).

Nine and Theo together find out that the eldest demon is into classical music and spend hours discussing early compositions with him.

Ell cannot be around this demon!  He is a fallen angel!  He tries to be nice (and because Ell is kind, so is Lucifer, even if the sickly sweetness of the angel drives him up the wall), but every good wish is punctuated with a sneeze.

Lucifer is so overworked, so by way of his calm disposition and love for meditation, Jamie helps him find ways to relax.

The eldest demon’s general demeanor astonishes June.  How manly he is!

Likewise, Sian can’t go near Lucifer without feeling nervous.  The man drips dominating energy!

Verine can’t understand the eldest’s love for classical music.  Rock is infinitely better.

Mammon

Um, Mori and him are best friends.  They together cause trouble in the House of Lamentation and in the 14th Department with their many get-rich-quick schemes.

Gaudy and expensive taste?  Sign Louis up.

Ethan says ‘no’ to the demon’s general pomposity (it reeks of low self-esteem) and by God, doesn’t he own anything that depicts an iota of class?

Mammon is one speedy demon—how can Kirr not appreciate his fleetfootedness when it would bring him so much use whilst hunting?  Apart from that, Kirr has no respect for that reprehensible thief, for the very idea of stealing brings back terrible memories.

Always belittled by their peers, Day and Mammon find a kindred spirit in each other, and Day is always reminded of his past life when he sees all the gold that Mammon professes to possess possesses. 

Kati bit him twelve times because no dumb tsundere was going to steal his (cough Aitachi’s) spot as cutest in the Department!

Licht is eclipsed by Mammon’s demon form because how is he able to pull off wearing so little clothing so well?  He must take notes.  When he learns that Mammon is a model, too, he goes berserk with delight.

Cyrille finds the secondborn exceedingly stupid, although he begrudgingly gives him credit for being pretty decent at math.

Sian spots a fellow tsundere and runs away, because oh my God, it’s so obvious that Mammon likes this MC person!

Leviathan

Games?  Social awkwardness?  Extreme interest in things that no one else seems to care for?  Cyrille has found his soulmate!

Aitachi and Kirr cringe at how Leviathan spends his leisure time, but are intrigued because they have never seen such methods of gaming and media consumption before.

Leviathan is forever at Quincy’s mercy, for the fellow demon has no qualms of absolutely crushing Levi’s already non-existent self-esteem. 

Even though he loathes to admit it, Sian really likes the rhythm games Leviathan plays, and the thousands of idol posters in his room make him strangely nostalgic of his past life.

June wonders how Levi can go so long without feeling the overwhelming need to burst into a sprint now and again.

Theo almost kills the thirdborn because how is his room filled with so many Demonrito and Hell Mountain Dew containers?  What filth!

Speaking of filth, Licht finds some of Levi’s dating sims and oh my darling, some of them are quite … lewd.

Ghilley and Leviathan together construct an elaborate Lego model of a castle from the anime My Sister Is A Fairy Princess, And Her Suitor Is Secretly An Ogre From a Land Far Away And Wants to Eat Us All, And It’s Up to Me to Save My Sister’s Kingdom.

Ethan can’t even walk past Leviathan’s room without a disapproving “tut.”  Has the demon no discipline, despite being rumored to be the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?

Kati spends all day poking at the cute monster and waifu figurines situated in Levi’s bedroom.  He thinks Azuki-tan is cute, but not as cute as him, and anyone who says otherwise will get bitten!

Aitachi likes to rifle through Leviathan’s anime sword replica collection and giggle because in combat, they would be of no more use than a toothpick.

Satan 

Finally!  Someone with sense! thinks Ethan.  Boy, do these two get along, right down to their educated and proper mannerisms to their mutual hatred of Lucifer.

Verine can’t go near Satan without coughing violently because the forthborn always has some manner of cat hair on him, no matter how diligently he preens.

Cats are infinitely better than dogs, so Noah sticks close to Satan.

Cyrille thought he had found a friend in Satan, who always has his nose in a book, but it turns out, Satan is more philosophically-and-intellectually-versed, while Cyrille is more scientific.

Nine likes Satan, for he is as calm as himself.  Strangely enough, they both seem to have hidden wrathful feelings and bond over this.

Kitties! :D is all Day can think when he sees the fourthborn.

Youssef enjoys Satan’s company, too, for they both are anthropological in nature—always watching, but never interfering until there is a need.

Blond and princelike are the two of them, but Louis is sorely disappointed when Satan’s royal appearance is merely a façade of darker emotions to come, where Louis enjoys life in its every aspect.  “How disappointing art thou, Satan!”  Louis throws rose petals in distress.

Kirr and Aitachi try to hunt one of Satan’s cats, thinking it was some kind of Devildom’s finest prey.  Satan does not forgive them for the attempt.

Theo sneezes the moment he enters Satan’s room.  Although everything is in its place and not truly messy by any means, he refuses to let the stacks and stacks of books sit idly by when they are begging to be put in shelves!

Quincy and Satan each add to their respective repertoire of curses in their time together.  It does not bode well for anyone in the House of Lamentation or 14th Department.

Asmodeus

They are … essentially the same person, so you can bet your ass that Licht and Asmo absolutely live for each other’s company.  They literally spend hours modeling clothes together, discussing fashion, gossiping about their romantic exploits, and praising their overall appearance.  

Louis joins in too, although he mostly stays for the latter, and the three vanquish away many nights complimenting their own and the others’ looks.

Sometimes Asmo likes to sew patches and sequins onto his clothes and mend them to his own design, and Aitachi, who likes to sew, learns many different ways of stitching from the fifthborn, although he hates the fact that Asmo, like Licht, never shuts up about what an “adorable and cute warrior” he is!

Asmo has to know Kirr’s hair care routine, which Kirr gives in one, succinct sentence: “I wash it.  Sometimes.”

Nine has to constantly flee Asmodeus’ presence because it is in his nature to compliment the Soul Reaper on how absolutely beautiful he looks.

Kati expects makeovers, all of which should emphasize his cuteness, every other day.

Don’t ask how long Mori spent calculating how much money Asmo spends on beauty products, because he wept at the end of it.

Verine refuses to step a foot into Asmodeus’ room because do you know how much his sinuses are going to bother him when he spends even a second into a room so deeply entrenched in the fragrance of flowers and perfume?

Ghilley is used to a personality so akin to his roommate, Licht, so he has no qualms in dealing with Asmo and quite likes the gossip he is quietly able to distill from the fifthborn.

Beelzebub

Brothers in their flaming orange hair, June gloms onto Beel with astounding loyalty (Theo refuses to admit jealousy, but ...), especially when he hears of his dedication to his twin.

Cyrille has to interrogate Beel on the structural integrity of his wings in his demon form because there is no way that such a flimsy apparatus could lift a demon of Beel’s stature even an inch into the air!  Also, how much does Beel exercise if he expects to gain muscle and burn off the infinite calories that he consumes?  It is a scientific mystery.

Day likes snacks, Beel likes snacks!  Everything is right in the world (even if the demon accidentally mistook Day’s hair for a mint ice cream cone).

Jamie is constantly offering fresh fruits and vegetables to the sixthborn, but even though he eats them willingly, Beel much prefers foods that will actually fill him up for a short amount of time.

Again, Ethan is appalled by the lack of discipline Beelzebub shows.  The demon is simply a slave to his appetite and deserves nothing less than scorn.

Theo cannot decide if he likes or hates the fact that Beel leaves a trail of crumbs wherever he goes.  On one hand, he gets to clean, but on the other hand, it’s so messy ... 

Even though he has many misgivings of fallen angels, even Ell cannot help but like Beel!  As long as he is fed, the demon is very sweet and kind.  

Noah likes Beel, too.  Something about his easygoing and generally cheerful personality pleases him to no end. 

Beel tried to eat Kati’s hair, thinking it was a yummy bun.  Sadly, he got bit more times than Mammon.

Youssef is a good cook and is thereby followed by Beel wherever he goes.  The kind Soul Reaper doesn’t mind, though.

Belphegor

Noah likes how Belphie takes things easily and calmly, although it probably wouldn’t hurt for him to get more exercise.

Belphegor is even more of a conundrum to June than Leviathan was.  He decides that next time he goes to the Devildom, he’s going to bring an extra pair of running shoes because the demon most certainly was wanting of physical exertion! 

Kirr is absolutely astonished at the unguarded and completely lax way Belphie sprawls out in the House of Lamentation, sleeping.  If he was an enemy tribesman, he would have no trouble in taking the demon down as he slept.

“This kind of laziness is not fit for a warrior at all!” cries Aitachi any time he seems Belphie dozing off.

Jamie likes Belphegor’s way of thinking.  Sometimes, sitting under an apple tree in the sweltering summer heat after a hard day of work just causes one to be overcome with the desire to take a nap. 

Youssef tries to brew Belphie a cup of espresso, but the caffeine just doesn’t seem to have an effect on the Avatar of Sloth. 

Although he is slightly disheartened by the fact that his quiet footsteps seem to have no effect on the seventhborn, as he is always asleep, Ghilley revels in the prospect of drawing unsavory graffiti on the demon’s face when he slumbers.

Day sometimes tries to rouse Belphie, and Belphie, in turn, tries to kill Day.

Like his observations on his twin, Cyrille cannot fathom how the demon could sleep so much.  How could one body need so much rest?

Simeon

Ell loves him.  How can he not?  He is the perfect angel!  He is also very curious as to how the Celestial Realm of Obey Me!’s world works compared to the one in AFTERL!FE.

His whole aesthetic mesmerizes Louis.  There’s something so tranquil but regal about it.  

Licht wants to know where he can get an exact copy of Simeon’s outfit because darling, it's gorgeous.

Youssef probably spends more time around Simeon than he should, but his calm demeanor is so refreshing compared to the chaos in the 14th Department and the House of Lamentation. 

Kirr and Aitachi together lament with Simeon on the struggles of working with technology.  Why is it so difficult?

Something about the angel’s holy air makes Mori very much not inclined to ask him how much the gold clasp on his cape is worth.

Quincy hates the “pretentious” and “stuck up” angel and bickers with him almost as much as he bickers with Ell.  Simeon never responds to his goading, although ... he does get a bit prickly when Quincy criticizes Luke or the Celestial Realm too harshly.

Encouraged by the prospect that he can actually breathe in the (fresh-smelling) presence of Simeon, Verine enjoys his company, but is perpetually annoyed by the fact that the angel seems to pity him for his condition.

Ethan can’t hate Simeon, either.  He is the sole honorable character he can find in the entire Devildom, even though he has to admit that it seems that the angel is hiding something.

Day really likes Simeon!  He’s so nice and is always ready to play with him.

As a man of science, Cyrille scoffs at Simeon (and Luke’s) unfaltering belief in religion. 

Luke

Kati bites him on sight.  Luke just seems irritating and how dare he think himself cuter than him!

Aitachi sympathizes with Luke, for they both lament on not being taken seriously because of their age.  

Luke reminds him a bit too much of a chihuahua for Noah to be too fond of him, but the little angel means well, so Noah suffers his incessant barking out of (Kind)ness.

Day is a human puppy ... and Luke is an angel chihuahua.  They get along great, although Luke makes it his most important goal to Christianize Day, who seems to believe in other things!

Quincy wonders when Luke will stop talking and is constantly entertaining thoughts of hastening the day when he will.  Likewise, Luke wishes the “horrible demon” would go away forever.

As a fellow angel, Ell finds Luke to be great fun.  It’s strange though, Luke seems to always be expressing the opposite of what he’s feeling in typical tsundere fashion, but he never sneezes.

Sian finds Luke to be of the utmost annoyance.  He’s so short (heh) and yappy and annoying!  

Kirr wonders if the little angel will make a good hunting dog, but after he realizes that Luke has a lot of trouble keeping his mouth closed, he thinks  better of it.

His dealings with Day cause Nine to be an excellent caretaker of Luke when Simeon is away.  You just have to deal with exuberant personalities like his carefully, is all.

Ghilley and Licht give Luke “five stars” in terms of cuteness.  The young angel does not approve!

Theo stays far away from Luke.  Children are walking crumb-and-stain-factories and he is not going to get dirty.

Solomon

Quincy and Solomon exchange many spell incantations and curses and keep the rest of the Soul Reapers, angels, and demons in an uproar with their constant shenanigans. 

When he notices that Solomon has many fortune-telling artifacts in his room, Kati rifles through them all (without permission), much to the sorcerer’s amusement, especially when Kati discovers many supposedly unpleasant things about his future.

Although Quincy and Solomon are the true troublemaking duo in terms of pranks (Satan helps, sometimes), Day and Solomon are almost equal in measure, although much of Day’s rogurey is an accident, and he never means to cause any harm!

Licht is instantly enamored by Solomon’s cape—what style!  You can see the entire Milky Way embroidered on it (Cyrille instantly assures him that that is not actually the case)!

Ghilley can’t help but wonder why anyone thinks Solomon is shady.  He seems to be a pretty upstanding, if chaotic, guy?

Youssef admires the humanity of Solomon.  In a land of angels and demons and even Soul Reapers, it’s good to have someone so normal.

Unlike Ghilley, Ethan definitely notices that something shady is afoot when Solomon is around.  Because of this, he tails the sorcerer wherever he goes, for he’d rather not a ruckus be caused.

Sian has many questions for Solomon on the status of idols in the Human World since he left it.  What are the newest trends?  The most popular groups?  The most admired dance moves?  He wants to know it all.

Barbatos

Cyrille finds the whole time-travel aspect of Barbatos’ powers intriguing and derails the butler from his duties for hours in attempts to understand the nuances of this overpowering concept.

Ethan privately thinks that he looked much better in a butler suit than the demon.  What is even going on with the front of his outfit?  A diligent and uncomplaining demon is Barbatos, and Ethan has to respect him for that, even if he is a position so beneath his own.

He’s so scary! D: thinks Day, even though Barbatos is nothing but kind to him.

Kirr likes the fine fare that Barbatos cooks, although he laments not being able to win “the mind game” against the butler, who he spends many hours staring coolly at.

Theo and Barbatos spend many an evening chatting about the best way to maintain the most perfect state of cleanliness.

The strong smell of detergent follows Barbatos sometimes, and Verine can never bring himself too close to the demon.  However, he has to begrudgingly admit that if it weren’t for the overwhelming stench of chemicals, he would be breathing in a suffocating cloud of dust particles, so he has to thank the butler for that.

Jamie gives Barbatos many good recipes for fruit pies and Youssef can’t wait to try all the (possibly) delicious recipes that Barbatos recites to him.  

Ghilley, unfortunately, finds it very difficult to sneak up on the butler, for Barbatos has seen all Ghilley’s attempts to scare him in all the timelines he has observed. 

Diavolo

This bumbling idiot is the ruler of the Devildom? thinks Ethan with great distaste.  However dignified Diavolo might be, Ethan cannot see past the blindingly cheerful mask he puts on and finds it most undignified.

A fellow royal!  How is Louis supposed to resist striking a long-winded conversation?  Diavolo entertains Louis’ pompous and overbearing self and they find each other most delightful.

Licht positively drools over Diavolo’s demon form outfit.  Just how he is pulling off that much style?

Quincy finds much enjoyment in disrespecting the Prince of the Devildom to no end and is always disappointed when Diavolo responds to his insults with a tolerating smile.

The Prince of Demons and the son of the Demon Lord are titles that are essentially the bane of Ell’s existence, but he manages to be most respectful toward him, even though he is shaking in his shoes and wondering when all their interactions will come to and end.

Day lived like a king in his past life and is not even remotely fazed by the enormous amount of finery found in the Demon Lord’s Castle.  He is, however, enamored with the Little D’s, who, when not insulting him, are great fun!

Diavolo’s lifestyle of luxury is basically Mori’s dream, so he takes every opportunity to make notes of the expensive furniture and ancient pieces.

Noah and Youssef like how down-to-Earth Diavolo is, despite his high position.  They feel as if he has something to hide, but for the most part, he is a jolly fellow and they enjoy his company.

[emergenciesstory]

Marriage Interrupted

Writing prompt: “Where’s Marcus?” “You mean the guy you sent to kill me? At the bottom of a river.” “Ouch. Those cost quite a pretty penny. Please be more considerate of my money next time I send an assassin.” 

SSB: Vacation Ruined

Steve x Reader

“I have to go in.” Steve’s voice grumbled in your ear. You sighed, rolling over to face him in bed. The light from sunrise trickled into your loft as you opened your eyes. You curled yourself around Steve, a hum of discontent leaving your lips. 

“You could say you're sick.” You mused teasingly. “You did miss your run this morning.”

“After last night’s workout, I think I deserved a morning off.” Steve rubbed your noses together before kissing you softly. His pager beeped again, a special beep reserved for mission briefings. 

“Go. I’ll still be here whenever you get back.” You released your hold on him, rolling to your back. 

“One week.” Steve kissed your forehead as he flipped the covers off.

“Whatever you say.” You laughed, watching as he ventured to your closet. “If it looks like you’ll be late, let me know. I need 24 hours for Pepper to make the arrangements.”

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Rogers.” Steve smiled, buttoning his shirt.

“Come home in one piece Mr. Rogers.” You teased before flopping back into the warm covers. “I’d like to marry someone alive.”

________

“She’s not a part of this life, you know? And after we get married, she will be in danger.” Steve said softly. 

“And she will have us and Shield protecting her. She’s one of us.” Nat said, looking over at Steve. 

“Yeah. I mean, Pepper wasn’t a part of all this, and she and Morgan are doing amazing.” Tony chimed in from his spot at the controls. 

Steve sighed, nodding his head. They were right, of course, but he didn’t want you wrapped up in it all. You were normal, you could walk down the street without risking your life or having to look over your shoulder. You weren’t as nervous about it as Steve, but something ticked in the back of his mind.

______

“We should be home tomorrow.” Steves voice came across the phone a week and a half later. You smiled thinking of the look of apologies on his face.

“Okay. I’ll tell Pepper Saturday?” you went to the fridge and wrote it on the board. “Friday we can go out with our respective friend groups and I’ll see you at the end of the aisle in the morning.”

“Sounds good. I miss you.”

“Then hurry back.” You mused. “See you after debrief.” 

Steve hung up, dorky smile on his face. Tomorrow, it wasn’t a lie. It would be after midnight when they landed. 2am, you’d be his. He already had someone from shield go pick up your favorite flowers before the store closed.

____________

Steve walked through the gardens towards your door. The lights were still on, the balcony doors open to the cool spring evening. Steve heard your laugh and slowed his walk, peering curiously up. A male voice drifted through the air, impossible to make out your conversation to the normal ear. 

Steve stopped, leaning on the wall under your balcony, listening. 

“By the way, Where’s Marcus?” The voice asked curiously.

“You mean the guy you sent to kill me? At the bottom of a river.” You chimed out casually.

“Ouch. Those cost quite a pretty penny. Please be more considerate of my money next time I send an assassin.” The man mused. Steve tried to process what he was hearing, were you in distress? Your laugh floated out again.

“Send a better one next time.” Two glasses clinked. Not distress, comradery? Steve didn’t know what he was hearing.

“The plan is in place.” The man said under his breath.

“By this time next week, it will be done..” 

“Are you sure I can’t convince you otherwise?” The man said. Steve didn’t hear you respond, just a momentary quiet before the soft voice broke the quiet. “Till I see you again, may it be in a body bag.” 

“And you with a gun to your head.” Your voice was reserved, but Steve couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sarcasm. He heard the door open, sliding around the building as to not be seen. 

Steve listened as the man came down the steps, moving to be able to see him, but he had vanished without walking through the gardens. Looking down at the flowers in his hand, he was torn. Who was this man? More importantly, who was the woman he was going to marry? Steve mulled over his options, still listening as he heard you move around the apartment. When the lights clicked out, he took a breath and moved up to the door, knocking softly. He heard you shuffle across the apartment, clicking the lock open on the door.

“Steve?” you said softly, taking him in.

“I’m home baby.” He said with a smile, taking the flowers out from behind his back. You wrapped your arms around him, capturing his lips with your own. Steve picked you up, walking back into your loft. When he released you, you took the flowers and went to the sink, filling a vase. Steve looked around, no sign anyone had been there just an hour prior. 

“I didn’t expect you till morning.” You said softly.

“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled, looking you up and down. Your cardigan was open, your sleep shorts and tank top barely disheveled, showing you just put them on. 

“You did. Bed?” You smiled sweetly, holding out your hand.

“With you? Always.” 

_____________

Steve’s phone rang from the bedside table, killing the happy mood.

“It’s our honeymoon.” He grumbled, resting his forehead on yours from where he hovered above you.

“Just answer it before you get in trouble. Avengers don’t get honeymoons.” You kissed his cheek, giggling as his scruff tickled your face.

“Go for Steve.” He said into the phone, looking down at you as his fingers danced across your bare skin.

“I’ll get right to the point. We have reason to believe the infamous Mob boss, Lucas Giavanno, is linked to HYDRA. And he’s there,” Maria said. “He’s notorious for working in the city, so we need to act fast before he finds out we know.” 

Steve’s face dropped, him getting concerningly still.

“The team is 5 minutes out, and they need your help.” Maria’s voice said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Steve threw the phone down harshly. “There’s a threat. Here in the resort.” He said coldly, moving off you quickly.

“Okay. I have that appointment anyways.” you said softly, reaching down to grab his t-shirt from where it was discarded on the floor and slipping it on. You moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“This was supposed to be a vacation!” Steve said harshly, clearly frustrated but trying not to let it show. “Nothing but you and me, relaxing, enjoying two weeks without the world interfering.” 

“And it still is, I’m sure we can extend our stay.” You murmured, placing soft kisses on his back. “Hey, look at me.” 

Steve turned slowly in your arms, tension still in his shoulders.

“It’s ruined now.” He said softly, defeated.

“Nothings ruined, go, be back in time for dinner reservations this evening. They can have you for a few hours.” You kissed him softly. “Maybe they can join us and celebrate.”

“Okay.” Steve sighed.

“Okay.” You tapped him on the ass as you let go. “I’ll see if I can extend our stay, on Tony’s dime. See you at dinner.”

_______

“Ah, right on time! Come in, come in. I have something for you.” You smiled as the warm voice filled the hall.

“You shouldn’t have.” You smiled, giving him a hug. 

“It’s a wedding gift, I definitely should have.” The man said with a smile, pouring some wine. “How is your vacation?”

“It's great dad, but really, you didn’t need to come out here. I know you were busy.” You sassed.

“Never too busy for you. Besides, I heard from your brother you killed his hitman?” You father looked at you pointedly, passing you a glass.

“He should know better. It takes more than a subpar hitman to take me out.” You laughed.

“Keeping you sharp. Are you sure you don’t wish to take part in our empire?” Your father gestured towards the guards at the door, a conversation you had many times over.

Before you could answer, a scuffle outside the suite drew your attention to the door.

“Get in the office.” Your father commanded, moving around the room to sit facing the door. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics but did as he asked, nonetheless. 

You waited silently, listening as the scuffle got closer to the room you were previously sitting in. You heard the door bust open, then quiet.

“Ah, welcome. Normally my guests knock.” Your father soothed out, and you knew he was turning to look at the guests.

“Funny, I thought I did.” The voice sounded familiar, too familiar.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of you barging in on my vacation?” Your father soothed, his glass echoing as it set on the table. 

“I think you know.” A third voice, but there was no mistaking this one. It was the same one you woke up to for the past two weeks. Realization crossing your features, you grabbed the handgun off your fathers desk and stepped out. Eyes, and guns, quickly moved to you as you took in the company. Tony, Steve, and Bucky stood in the room, weapons pointed at you and your father.

“Y/n?” Steve said, Weapon lowering slightly. Your father looked between the two of you with a smile.

“This must be your Husband! “ He said, a smile crossing his face. “A pleasure to finally meet my Son-in-law.”

Eyes moved between the two of you as you winced at the admission. 

“Wait, Mob Boss Lucas Giavanno,” Tony pointed at your father, then at you like connecting dots. “Is your father?” 

“Talk about a complicated honeymoon.” Bucky smirked behind his mask, gun still trained at your father.

“Can we all please talk without guns, please?” You asked, dropping your weapon from where it was trained on Tony. 

“You’re part of a Mob family?” Steve asked, gesturing at Bucky to lower his gun. “And not just any Mob, but one coresponding to HYDRA.” 

“A simple misunderstanding,” Your father chimed in, standing to refill his glass. Bucky’s gun shot up at him again, eyes trained on his every move. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Steve said harshly. Tony was leaning against the wall by the door, mask off and smirking at the entire situation.

“Can we talk?” You asked wearily. “No guns, No raised voices. I’ll tell you everything.” 

Steve nodded curtly and you gestured to Bucky. Steve tapped him on the shoulder and he lowered the weapon again, eyes still not leaving your father.

“Lucas Giavanno is my father. I took my mothers name when I left the family business, that’s when we met. My brother, well, he’s not so good at running the business, hence the rumors surrounding the family.” You said softly. “We are not with HYDRA, we are helping wipe out their power. That's what the family business is.”

“Yes, Y/n excels in doing so, we’ve been trying to get her back to help gain the trust of the last HYDRA cell we know of.” Your father chimed in.

“How do we know he’s not lying?” Bucky said to Steve.

“Bucky, you’ve known me for years. You let me marry your best friend.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Obviously I didn’t know how far the deception went.” He shrugged. 

“I swear to the gods.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. You walked over to the desk, slamming the handgun down and ripping open a drawer. Steve flinched, the movement catching your eye and making you stop, gun trained on you again. “Are you really going to shoot your wife?”  

Steve’s silence spoke volumes. You moved slower, pulling out the large file of documents, spreading them out on the livingroom table. Tony stepped out of his suit, coming to look as the map you were forming. Little X marks scattered the map, circles around many of them. 

“Friday, overlay our previous HYDRA missions to this map.” The suit let out a projection, their missions being the X’s circled in black.

“What do the red circles mean?” Steve asked softly.

“Those are the ones We took out.” Your fathers voice rang out from where he sat at the desk, refilling his glass. “You’re welcome.”

You looked at Steve, trying to read his expression. You could tell he was thinking, trying to put pieces together, then it dawned on you.

“You overheard my brother the other night, when you got back from that mission and surprised me.” You said, suddenly understanding. 

“You said the plan would be done by the end of the week.” He said, a broken look on his face when he looked at you. “That was marrying me.” 

“What? No! No no no.” You moved around Tony, taking Steve’s face between our hands. “The plan had nothing to do with marrying you. I was signing over my responsibilities in the business. I wanted to enter this life without any confliction from this. I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

A long silence filled the room, Steve watching your face, and you his, everything else fading away. 

“I love you.” You said softly.

“I love you, too.” He kissed you softly, before looking at everyone in the room and clearing his throat. “I think we have a misunderstanding to clear up.”

“And a wedding to Celebrate!” You father exclaimed, cheersing the group. “Perhaps we can discuss taking down the last cell together over dinner, my treat.” 

You looked over to Tony and Bucky, a soft smile on your face and a shrug.

“I’ll make a call to clear up the confusion.” Tony said quickly. “See you for dinner.”

Maybe you’d never get out of the Family business. 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 275: YAAAAY but Also AHHHHH

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all “I’M FIGHTING TOMURA AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME” and set everything on fire. Unlike SOME people, however, it turns out fire is NOT Tomura’s weakness, so he basically just shrugged it off. But before things could progress any further, AFO was all “psst, go get One for All” and Tomura was all “? One for All?” and Endeavor was all “?? One for All?” and Deku and Kacchan, who were listening in on their earpieces, were all “!!!” Having thus realized that Tomura was targeting him, Deku sped off to lead him somewhere away from the civilians... accompanied by his good friend Bakugou “274 chapters of character development have all been leading up to this” Katsuki. Because like hell are you going to have an EPIC BATTLE with the FINAL VILLAIN without him, you damn nerd. Who’s he going to heroically sacrifice himself for if you’re not there?? Hahh!?

Today on BnHA: Deku and Kacchan fly off to battle Tomura after confusing Endeavor into giving them his location (which wasn’t very hard lmao). En route, Deku finally thinks to ask Kacchan why he’s tagging along, and Kacchan is all “DON’T GET ME WRONG, IT’S JUST BECAUSE I WANT REVENGE ON TOMURA, AND DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU AT ALL, HOW DARE YOU, WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT”, which is super convincing and didn’t make me roll my eyes at all. Anyways so then Tomura shows up and is all “EYO TIME TO KILL YOU NOW” and Deku and Kacchan are all “OH SFFKDFK”, but fortunately Gran shows up to save them in the nick of time, because BnHA is literally the only shounen manga in which grown-ups will see kids trying to lead a battle and be like “lol wtf” and actually try to stop that shit instead of being all “what are your orders, children.” The chapter then ends with the heroes doing EXACTLY WHAT THEY SHOULD BE DOING??Namely, having the guy who can TURN OFF QUIRKS battle the guy with the ultimate death quirk! I’m so proud. But also I swear to god, if Tomura so much as breathes suspiciously in his direction...!! What the fuck. HORIKOSHI.

y’all what in the fresh hell is this bs

not yet there isn’t son but if you keep trolling like this I can give your nervous system something to actually be nervous about

anyway. this was his comment from last week’s issue of Jump, and I have absolutely no idea what it’s referring to, is the fun part! did he cry because of something he was working on in a chapter that’s coming up? or is he just tired from a combination of stressful mangaka schedule + 2020 in general?? or hell, for all I know he just recently watched Titanic or some shit

(ETA: KILLING AIZAWA SHOUTA WOULDN’T MAKE SOMEONE CRY OUT OF JOY, THOUGH. RIGHT?!)

anyways I guess it’s time to read and see if I feel like sadly happily crying for two hours afterward

-- oh shit I just realized there are two scanlations out for this?? one from readjump.com, and one from readheroacademia.com. lol now what. uhhh

lulzes. I guess I’ll go with RHA for now and keep checking back to RJ after each page and I’ll go with whichever translation I liked better

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, OUR MILLENNIAL VILLAIN

or would he actually be gen z. he was already in his twenties when this manga started like six years ago, so I’m going with millennial. but on the cusp though I guess. anyway, he plays video games though is the point

and I see he’s already decided to contradict me and my inane speculations not two panels in! I GUESS I AM JUST A FOOL. that’s really interesting though. I wonder if it’s just Monoma’s quirk that doesn’t take the accumulated “save data” from the people he copies from, then? guh. how many of my AFO/OFA theory notes do I have to scrap now

and there’s a little quirk blurb about Search, which is fairly useless given that we already know how it works (actually in even greater detail than shown here), but at least it comes with a cute little picture of Ragdoll in her hero costume, to make us all sad and stuff

so anyways Tomura who are you looking at?? this was a topic of some contention last week! also why were you only seeing nine people then. Ragdoll had seen everyone in 1-A along with Aizawa and her fellow Pussycats at a minimum, so is this confirmation that Tora and Mandalay and Pixie-Bob are all really dead then, because I CAN AND WILL HUNT DOWN A MAN AND MAKE HIM CRY FOR A GOOD DEAL LONGER THAN TWO HOURS IF THAT’S REALLY THE CASE. was Kouta not traumatized enough already?? LET’S JUST ORPHAN HIM AGAIN WHY NOT THAT’S A GOOD PLAN

(ETA: I really hate that we are still up in the air regarding this? and I mean, sure, why not, we only had like a dozen lady heroes to begin with, so why not just kill off two more of them, offscreen, in one fell swoop??)

WHAT IS A SHAME. TOMURA. DAMN IT

(ETA: ??)

-- well hello there

OR MAYBE I WAS NOT A FOOL AT ALL?? lol guys. please do not tell me my hobo husband is flying his vengeful ass over to where Tomura all heedless of the danger because I really do not need that just yet. CAN MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS PLEASE FUCKING TAKE TURNS BEING IN TERRIBLE DANGER INSTEAD OF ALL AT ONCE

sob we’re cutting back to Endeavor and Deku and Kacchan. ACTUALLY THAT’S GOOD THOUGH why am I complaining. I’m just gonna have to get used to the fact that no one is going to truly be safe for the next god knows however many chapters, and make my peace with that. hahaha. yeah right

lmao Deku. “HEY WHAT’S UP, ME AND MY FELLOW CHILD HERE ARE GONNA LURE SHIGARAKI TOWARDS US, BUT WE’LL EXPLAIN OUR REASONS FOR THAT LATER. IF YOU SEE HIM MAKING ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS PLEASE INFORM US SO AS TO AID US IN THIS PLAN.” Endeavor if you just go along with this I will lose so much respect for you lmao

lol he is trying to argue a bit but then he’s suddenly cutting off. so in hindsight I don’t know why I said “lol”, really. I’M JUST NERVOUS OKAY

btw in the other translation Deku straight up asks if Endeavor can redirect Tomura towards them. “sure no problem bucko, let me just tell the walking apocalypse exactly where he can find you, my two sixteen-year-old interns whose safety I am responsible for. I was just thinking to myself that I hadn’t had my fill of crazy ill-thought-out plans with a high risk of death today”

holy --

okay I have not the SLIGHTEST clue what’s going on here, even after analyzing both scans, except that someone, probably Tomura, either just went CRONCH or just GOT cronched just now lmao. let us read on to find out who was cronched and who did the cronching

the rest of this page is not really much more helpful

but I am becoming increasingly suspicious that those were in fact Tomura’s new, improved and ridiculously thicc legs doing the cronching as he did a Marvel Superhero Landing from the most RIDICULOUS ANGLE POSSIBLE

LMAO NOW WHAT

so he just cronched onto the ground and fooshed Endeavor and then went flying off again huh

LMAO AT EVERYTHINNNNNG

THANK YOU ENJI. HE’LL LURE HIM AWAY. lols WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL THEM WHICH WAY HE WAS HEADED YOU BOOB

he really just fucking hung up on him afterwards too. just, “got it thanks amigo just leave everything to me, [CLICK]”

OH MY GOD

BECAUSE WE CAN’T HAVE ANYONE ELSE CONVENIENTLY INTERFERING WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR LITTLE THROWDOWN OF DESTINY HUH. THAT WOULD JUST BE TERRIBLE

-- oh shit

that’s just. a SLIGHT change in meaning, there. silly me. thinking “get rid of them” meant “get rid of their communications as opposed to FUCKING KILLING THE ONE YOU’RE NOT ACTUALLY AFTER. hmm. well that’s not good

(ETA: never have I been so happy that a translation was wrong lmao.)

so now Endeavor’s shouting at everyone else that Tomura is heading southwest and that he has “SUPER REGENARTION” (sic) and is no longer THE SAME THUG HE WAS BEFORE and yeah RHA you have officially won me over, flaws and all. listen up boyos. this ain’t your granddaddy’s Shigaraki Tomura. this one regenars

also “that damn kid...” like why the hell did my son have to go and befriend two protagonists. why is this my life now

AHAHAHAHA

“MIDORIYA IS IN DANGER...!!” STORY OF THIS MANGA. AHAHA. KACCHAN HE’S COMING. HE’S COMING, KACCHAN. for you two. someone please help me I am both terrified and thrilled beyond all recognition and my body doesn’t know how to handle the conflicting emotions. honestly crying for two hours is starting to sound more and more appealing

oh my god I forgot they didn’t know, though

fff. Kacchan especially didn’t know, because unlike Deku he doesn’t have random bits of other people’s souls going “heyyyyyyy... transcendent being at 12 o’clock.” what has this kid so bravely and stupidly gone and gotten himself into

look at them go

damn Deku can you really not float yet?? that’s going to be really inconvenient if that’s the case

(ETA: my boy really would have just straight up died. he would have died so hard.)

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU WANT TO ASK HIM LMAOOOO. well it’s because of all the character development!! if you must know

THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER BLASTY MCANGERTY

you’re not as smooth as you think you are, you know. we all know why you actually followed him. but fine, be that way

okay so now he’s giving a real-er answer though

“understand the situation”, the situation being that your best friend and his secret-trump-card-in-the-battle-against-evil quirk were being targeted by the guy who just obliterated this entire city. got it. you put it quite succinctly

and Deku is all

and Kacchan is all

love how he throws that protagonist crack in there too. because we all know that Deku absolutely is the protagonist lol, and so if that part’s obviously not true, we can make some inferences about the rest of what he’s saying too now can’t we

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh snap

YOU SURE DO!! and he does with you too!! :) it’s gonna be one big happy reunion! :) :) :) oh gosh golly

OH NO KATSUKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING

what are you doing to me, I should clarify. please be considerate of my feelings. you can’t just DUMP sudden Kacchan Kamino Angst on me without any warning, you have to let me know in advance so that I can buy some thank you cards

THERE’S MOREEEEE???

YOU REMEMBER TOO, DON’T YOU DEKU. HE WAS ALL CRYING AND STUFF. IT WAS A LOT. IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I HAVE NEVER PERSONALLY GOTTEN OVER IT

AND IT LOOKS LIKE HE NEVER QUITE GOT OVER IT EITHER

:’)

by the way in the other translation he says “I’ll make up for what I did that day.” so yeah. BOOM. right to the heart. shot of me collapsing to the ground in slow motion

but it’s interesting though that he still can’t admit to having selfless motives yet! even after everything he’s been through and all his character growth! he’s still all GET RID OF THE REFERENCES TO ME CARING ABOUT YOU, WE CAN’T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE HAVE FEELINGS

but even his Kamino feels are notably first and foremost about him feeling responsible for failing All Might. so yeah, buddy. where does that leave you? even your feeble excuses are still rooted in selflessness, JUST GIVE IN AND ADMIT YOU’VE BEEN SECRETLY GIVING A SHIT BEHIND EVERYONE’S BACK. and honestly he might be better off at this point if he didn’t! BUT HE DOES. and that’s that

anyways Deku I sure hope you and your big hero brain can see right through this nonsense

god. you’re both in so much danger though, do you even have any idea?! of course you fucking don’t. god

HELLO BAKUGOU NARRATION!?!

well that’s one hell of a rare sight!! all fresh and chock full of shrewd observations about his best rival’s current skillset. ah what a time we’re living in

ooooh

gonna hold off commentary until I read the next part of this lol

OOOOOH

goddamn. Horikoshi really went off this week. just a whole chapter’s worth of Stuff Makeste Really Likes, goddamn is it my birthday or what

so do you guys think he’ll be able to keep pace all the way up to 100%? I can see this part being interpreted in two totally different ways if I’m being honest. on the one hand we have the more pessimistic (some would say realistic) view that Bakugou is desperately trying to convince himself that he’s still on the same level as the rival he so desperately wants to surpass, but with the sinking feeling that he’s actually not going to be able to keep up for much longer. and then on the other side of the coin we have the more glass-half-full perspective that he actually is capable of keeping up with him right to the bitter end. that even as Deku grows stronger, he’ll continue to push himself and use that as motivation to keep getting stronger too. that Deku isn’t out of reach; that his goal isn’t out of reach

and I’m not completely sure which way this is leaning myself! I personally would like to lean more towards the second interpretation, because y’all know I love me some rivals. and also because imo one of the most commendable things about Bakugou’s development has been how he hasn’t once been envious of Deku’s strength or of his position as All Might’s chosen heir since he learned about OFA. he hasn’t once shown any kind of resentment towards him for it, or doubted whether or not he deserves it. and as minor a detail as that may seem to some people, I cherish it. and I don’t want that to change! but I guess we shall see

so now we’re getting the clearest shot we’ve had yet of the new AFO holes in Tomura’s palms as he gets ready to combine some more quirks. also! more information about the quirks he has and is using! fucking thank you, where was this last week

so “radio waves” is clearly going to be used here to disrupt the heroes’ communication, which is a shame for them, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved given the alternative! the RJ translation is clearly just a hot mess lol. but I still adore that one “I’ll make up for what I did” line though

WOW

THE DISRESPECT. LOL DID YOU JUST FUCKING KILL HIS ASS

(ETA: I just realized he’s nowhere to be found after this, though, so... did he?? or is he now lying somewhere now all wounded and waiting to be found by one, or, dare I say, two of his sons? ...)

LKDFJLSDKGHOSIDGHOISDflkwejfdfsdklggdflgnfdlgndakgalkgldfdfkwlfwiowelKLDSGKSL:DKGJL:DKFM?G?SGSDLKG?SDFSDF??LKJ@L!

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

even if you ask him nicely??! somehow I just can’t help feeling that he probably shouldn’t oblige you, though!?!?!

anyways. THAT AIN’T SAFE. and what the hell is happening in that bottom left corner ahhhhhh

AHHHHHHH

GRAN DM ME YOUR ADDRESS I WANT TO SEND YOU SOME FLOWERS AND A BASKET OF FRUIT AND CRACKERS AND SOME LITTLE CHEESES AND SAUSAGES

jesus christ it completely slipped my mind that there was one other person currently in the vicinity who knows about OFA. my good sir, maybe you would like to introduce these two dunderfucks to the concept of a “plan.” and maybe you can also find the single shared braincell they apparently dropped and lost somewhere back there in all the city rubble

oh fuck me

(ETA: does Kacchan look so rattled here because he is being lectured, or because he just saw a vision of his own death and is now having it explained to him just how close he came to being decomposed. you decide! I’ll just sit here and bask in the angst.)

fuck. main character gods were really working overtime here. anyways so how are you all doing this fine Friday afternoon. me, I’m just sitting here wrangling with the knowledge that Tomura’s quirk is even deadlier than I realized, and that my two little boys came within inches of dying horrible deaths just now. but anyways it’s not as humid today as it was yesterday so that’s really nice

anyways so now Gran is continuing to lecture the mayor of Dumb Ideas Town here, along with his friend the deputy mayor who still thinks he outranks the actual mayor

SHH NOW AND LISTEN TO YOUR GRANDPA

-- ohhhh shit son are they mounting a counterattack?? don’t tell me!!

also is Gran seriously faster than Tomura. that makes no fucking sense, and yet these two are only alive now because of it so I’M SURE NOT GONNA QUESTION IT

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

AND IS AIZAWA ON HER BACK THOUGH???

AHAHHAHAHAHAHA

AH, BUT IT AIN’T GONNA WORK THOUGH, IS IT!!! AHAHAHA YESSSSSS

excellent question sir. the short answer is “they’re idiots”, and the long answer is just a longer version of “they’re idiots” but with some more complicated BakuDeku feels mixed in. I’ll tell you all about it if you just promise me that you’ll actually live through this, all right?

“is he after the two of them?” listen boy if you don’t finally put two and two together after this I’m gonna be fucking beside myself lol. (though honestly, Deku and Kacchan have been targeted by the League so many other times already that he might just simply accept “yeah they’re after them again” without any further explanation)

my dear gentlefolk would you fucking look at how the lord has blessed us on this day

Aizawa Fucking Shouta and the motherfucking dramatic intro to end all dramatic intros. finally this man gets his moment

someone please teach me how to cast a force field. teach me how to reach into the manga and slap this man and tell him to stop talking about how everyone’s noble sacrifices to protect him and his eraser quirk have led him to this day and to this one encounter. my guy. my fucking dude. THERE HAD BETTER BE SUBSEQUENT ENCOUNTERS AFTER THIS

NOOOOOOOOOOOO

ISN’T HE THOUGH??? Tomura I love you sweetie but you better BACK THE FUCK. OFF

well FINE THEN! BE THAT WAY. it’s not like my life revolves around you and your stupid manga anyway!! it’s not like I’m obsessed with it or anything!! I have other hobbies!! well I actually do have other hobbies, so that doesn’t really work as sarcasm, so let’s see though. maybe something more like, “this isn’t by far my favorite out of all my hobbies!!” I don’t spend 80-90% of my free time on any given day either actively or passively daydreaming about this series and writing essays in my head and reading fanfic and scrolling through art on tumblr!! etc.!! whatever!! enjoy your break!! have fun living your life!!

please don’t kill Aizawa

[fanaticfangirl001]

Like Real People Do Ch 6: The Stain

Taglist: @p3nny4urth0ught5, @kissofvenom922,

Author’s note: Considering Sam’s TT, it’s very common in the South to give relatives nicknames, especially in the African American community(Just in case anyone was confused during the episode)

Winnie flops down on the couch and sighs.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Sam, this whole thing is fucked up.” Winnie rubs her temples.

“Well once this is all over, I’ll leave you and Buck alone.”

“No reason to. He hates me.”

“Huh?”

“ At Sharon’s place. I confronted him and he brushed me off. I mean it was stupid to think that.”

“Wait, you think Buck hates you because he wouldn’t open up to you.”

“Exactly, we’ve talked about stuff before.”

“Stuff like feelings?”

“No. I’m pretty sure we’re just going to stuff those down and then one day, we die.”

“That’s not healthy.”

“Did you imagine us to have a healthy way of coping with our shit?”

“No, but once everything is over, try therapy.”

“I’d screw it up.”

“There’s nothing to screw up.”

“I’d screw up the therapist. There’s a lot, Sam, none of it is great.”

Zemo walks out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and Bucky walks through the front door.

“Well the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

“Were you followed?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Winnie sits up from the couch.

“Because I know when I’m being followed.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.”

“Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you.You killed Nagel”

“Don’t put too much stock in it.” Winnie warns. “You mean to an end.”

“You’d be bored without me.” Zemo says to Winnie then adds “ Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened.”

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot a man.”

“Point blank.” Winnie adds.

“Sam.”

“What?”

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”

“What? What’s the damage?”

“Eleven injured, three dead. They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.”

“She’s getting worse.”

“Take it from the man that bombed the UN to know what worse is.” Winnie muses.

“I accept the assistance but I can handle these two.” Zemo pours himself a cup of tea. “I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?”

“She’s just a kid.”

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there. You’re clouded by it.”

“Sam, she is a kid, but she’s making some adult moves.” Winnie adds. “But she has done more for the displaced than the GRC ever did.”

“She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped association that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”

“You’re talking about our friends.”

“The avengers, not the nazis.”

“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.”

“It would have to be in some neutral location. I don’t want any surprise attacks. Sam, you’d be the best choice.”

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.Or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.”

“Touche. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

“One of a kind, a good man trained to be a soldier.”

“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.”

“And you’ll give up your tour guide.”

“Yes.”

“From my understanding Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So when I was a kid my TT passed away.”

“Your TT?”

“Yeah, my TT, yeah.”

“Who is your TT?”

“Fine, when I was a kid,my aunt passed away, and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.”

“We’re not crashing a memorial.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo tosses a piece of candy towards Sam “ Turkish Delight.”

He gestures towards Winnie.

“No thank you. I’ve read The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, too many times to be taken in by perfume candy.”

“Shame what’s become of this place. When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties.I know nothing of the politics of the time, of course.But I remember it being beautiful.”

“I’ll play you a song from the smallest violin, later, what we need is information.” Winnie says from behind him.

“I’m gonna take a look upstairs.See what you can find down here. Keep an eye on him.”Sam says leaving the group.

“I’ll stay out of your way.”

Winnie looks around seeing small groups of children playing. She softly smiles.

“You like children?” Zemo asks softly.

“Yeah so.”

“Follow my lead.”

Winnie rolls her eyes but takes Zemo’s outstretched hand.

“Baa baa black sheep have you any wool.”

Winnie sings with him.

“Yes sir, yes,sir, three bags full. One for my master, One for the dame.” Zemo pulls out a bag of the same candy he had offered them, Turkish Delight.

“One for the little girl who lives down the lane.” He sets up a table and pours out the candy.

“Turkish Delight. It was always my son’s favorite.”

Winnie kneels down so she’s at the kids level.

“My old friend Donya passed away. Did you know her?”

“Yes.”

“I would like to pay my last respects. Do you know where her funeral will be?”

Zemo motions for the child to whisper to him the location. She whispers then turns towards him again.

“Is there something else?” He asks.

“Your wife is pretty.” She points towards Winnie.

Winnie smiles, keeping up the appearance.

Sam comes down and stands by Bucky.

“It’s starting to feel like a dead end.”

“The hell are they doing?”

“Do you see these men there?” Zemo asks the child softly.

“Zemo, darling.” Winnie adds putting a hand on his shoulder.

“They are very bad, not to be trusted.” Zemo adds to the children. “Donya is our little secret, okay.”

Zemo and Winnie walk back to the two.

“Cute kids.”

“Ass.”

“Darling, there’s children present.”

“I don’t like them, together.” Bucky breaks the silence.

“I know Buck. I know.”

“Well I got nothing. No one is talking about Donya.”

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them.”

Winnie turns to Zemo.

“And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“For five years,people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbed wire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together. It was the entire world coming together. And then boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them at least Karli is doing something.”

“You really think her ends justify her means. Then she’s no different than him, or anybody else we’ve fought.

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.”

Zemo is making cherry blossom tea and brings it over.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?”

“The funeral is this afternoon.”

“You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute.In fact they are probably lurking outside right now.Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me, once we get to Karli. I prefer to keep my leverage.”

Bucky stands up and walks over to him. He grabs the tea pot and throws it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage.”

“Take it easy, don’t engage him. He’s just going to extort you and do that stupid little head tilt thing.”

Zemo straightens.

“Let me make a call.”

“Do you want some cherry blossom tea?

“No you go ahead.”

Zemo turns towards Winnie.

“Uh sure, I’d love some.”

Once Bucky leaves the room Winnie looks at Zemo.

“It’s rude to stare.”

“Infuriating Bucky isn’t going to help you in the long run.”

“You care a lot for him. Pity.”

“Why?”

“Because he will always throw himself into the fight. He will never settle down, or help himself, because not so deep down, he knows he’ll never lose the Winter Soldier side. You saw how easily he went back into it.He believes that he’s not worth the effort.What is that they say about old habits. Ah, they die hard.”

“Pissing me off isn’t helpful to you, either.”

“Why does the truth anger you so?”

“Because I believe that Buck is stronger than everything he’s been through.”

“You have great expectations for James.”

“I do.”

“You think he is worth the effort.”

“Yes.”

“So tell him.”

“Why would I trust you? Two seconds ago you were being a dick. Now I’m supposed to take your relationship advice.”

“So you do want a relationship with him.”

“I’m not talking to you, anymore.”

“How sweet the silence will be.” Zemo gives her a cup of tea.

“Fuck you.”

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John and Lemar jog up to where the four are.

“What happened to tracking John?” Sam asks Winnie.

“Someone must have disabled it, it was working before.”

“Ah! How’d you find us now?”

“Come on. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?”

“No more keeping us in the dark.”

“It was nice while it lasted.” Winnie adds to Sam.

“And you..” John walks up to Winnie,” Stop messing with my suit and my shield.”

“Doesn’t feel too good to get tracked by your own stuff, huh.”

“You are interfering with the United States Government.”

“What are you gonna do, kill me.”

“Don’t.” Bucky grabs Winnie’s arm and pulls her back.

“You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.”

“He did that himself, technically.”

“This better be an unbelievable explanation.”

“Take it easy before it gets weird.”

“Too late.”

“I know where Karli is.”

“Well, where?” John stops Zemo with a hand on his chest.

“All we know is, it’s a memorial. So we’re going to intercept her there.”

“I still don’t like the idea that we’re crashing a memorial.” Winnie adds.

“That means civilians. High risk of casualties.” Lemar adds.

“Which means we need discretion, you two aren’t exactly subtle.” Winnie gestures between John and Lemar.

“All right, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.” John says.

“Did he not hear me?” Winnie asks outloud.

“I want to talk to her alone.” Sam nods at Winnie.

“I’m not losing her again.”

“You won’t, if you let Sam talk to her. This is his bread and butter.”

“Look the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable. Now is the best time to reason with her.”

“No wait stop! Hold on! I think we’re way past reasoning with her,unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.”

“So did Zemo, and he’s here.”

“Winifred, if you really lov…” Zemo starts and is muffled by Winnie’s hand.

“Sam if you walk in there cold, she could kill you.” Lemar reasons with Sam.

“If I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die.”

“You’ll let him do this. You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone.”

“He’s dealt with worse, and he’s not my partner.”

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay. This is in my wheelhouse, like Winnie said.”

“I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this a bad idea.”

“Wait John, if he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” Lemar reasons with John.

“We’ll deal with you later.” John says to Zemo.

“I’m sure it will come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.”

Zemo leads the way to the small girl he was talking to earlier.

“Hello my friend.” Zemo gives her money,” This is for your family. Can you show us the way?”

The child motions for Zemo and the group to follow her.

“What the hell?”

“Language.” Winnie warns. “ Come on John, there’s a kid.”

The child leads them to the building.

“Karli is in there.”

“All right.” Sam goes in alone.

Zemo is handcuffed to a pipe.

“Hey, you got ten minutes.

“Really?”

“Then we’re doing things my way.”

“Aggressive.” Zemo comments. “ But I get it.”

“John, you okay?” Winnie asks as she watches him begin to pace.

“No, I’m not okay. I wasn’t expecting to see Sam and Bucky, two avengers, an ex member of Shield, and a terrorist that bombed the UN.”

“Okay, and neither did I when Bucky and I came out here. But we’ve done a pretty good job so far.”

“A pretty good job? Really?”

“Yeah, actually with less resources than you have.”

John waits and readjusts his cowl across his nose.

“John.”

“Whatever it is Winnie, I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not trying to antagonize you, but you really don’t seem okay. Take a few breaths. Sam’s a good man and he knows how these things go.”

Bucky looks up watching Winnie.

“I also know that you want to be a good man. You want to be the best Captain America, you can. And to do that you need a clear head, and some good people around, and a big ass heart.”

“A big ass heart isn’t going to help.”

“I think it helped Steve.”

“Well I’m not Steve.”

“I know. No one is asking you to be Steve, John.”

“She’s right.” Zemo adds.

“Good call, the terrorist agrees with you, Winnie.”

“I’m trying to genuinely help you. Don’t be a dick.”

“You could have helped more by joining us. That tracker you put on my shield is still being dissected. Your modifications on old shield tech is incredible.”

“Governments have agendas and blind spots. I’m not getting back in just to be told it’s happening again.”

“So what’s next then, for you?” John asks.

“I don’t know, but I’m sticking with Sam and Buck until the end of the line.”

“Don’t ever say that again!” Bucky snaps.

Winnie recoils hurt from his words and the silence grows.

She looks over when John begins pacing and talking to himself.

“Nope No, this is a bad plan.”

“It hasn’t been ten minutes. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m going in.” John walks up to Bucky. He stops John.

“This is all real easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.”

“Lemar.” Winnie nudges him and gestures to John,” Has he always been this intense?”

“He’s got a lot on his plate.”

“Lemar no bullshitting me, is John okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be okay.”

“Care to make a wager?”

“Sure. what’s the bet?”

“If John snaps,you owe me, Bucky and Sam:Juicy Lucys, fries and malts once we’re stateside.”

“If he doesn’t, you owe us a steak dinner. The works.”

“Deal.” Winnie puts out her hand for Lemar.

“Deal.” Lemar shakes her hand.

“What about me?” Zemo asks.

“Malts aren’t for terrorists.” Winnie answers.

“Neither are steak dinners.”

“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” John calls out.

“This is what that was.”

“No, wait.”

“Tricking me until help came.”

“We had enough time to talk.”

“Nazi”

“Why don’t you.”

Karli shoves John and the shield against the table.

Winnie helps John back up, he shoves off of her.

Bucky goes after Karli as does Lamar.

Sam helps Winnie up and the two run through trying to find Karli.

“Shit.”

“I lost her.”

“So did we, and John’s a dick.”

“This place is a maze.”

“Pretty smart move though. We need to find Karli before John or Zemo do.”

Zemo finds Karli and shoots at her following her through the pipe room. He shoots twice more. To avoid him, Karli vaults over a table, her pouch of the serum vials falling to the floor with her. The blue vials litter the floor. Karli starts to crawl towards it but Zemo shoots once more. She finds cover behind the table.

“Is this what I think it is.” Zemo asks. He picks one up.

“No no no.” Karli starts.

He throws it to the ground, the glass vial shattering. Zemo stomps on them. Karli runs out seeing that Zemo is busy. The shield flies out of the air and knocks him out.

Sam, Bucky and Winnie run in to see John.

“You found Zemo, good.” Winnie says.

“What did we miss?”

Back in Zemo’s home he rests on the couch with a wash cloth on his head.

“Anything new from Sharon.”

“No, just keep an eye on John.”

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo asks Sam.

“What?”

“The serum.”

“No.”

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

“No.”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive.”

“Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?”

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky.”

“He never chose anything.” Winnie asks.

Sam takes Zemo’s silence for a chance to continue.

“Blood isn’t always the solution.”

Bucky comes back in.

“Somethings not right about Walker.”

“Clocked that a mile away. I made a bet with Lemar.”

“ What kind of bet?”

“I think John is unstable. He’s gonna snap at someone. And when he does we get cheeseburgers and malts.”

“You can’t make a bet like that. It’s wrong.”

“Lemar knows John better than I do. And he has faith in John. That should make us feel a little better.”

“What does he get if John doesn’t crack?”

“Him and John get a steak dinner.”

“Steak dinner vs cheese burgers, the classic American battle.” Zemo adds.

“Well get ready to eat a burger, Sam, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

“I didn’t give it.”

“Well Steve definitely didn't.”

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.”

“Hey, slow your roll.”

“Shield or no shield, the only thing here you’re running is your mouth. Now I have Katli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’re going to need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.”

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, huh. Should I put down the shield, make it fair?”

“Malts here we come.” Winnie adds sending a smirk over to Lemar.

John puts down the shield and a woman dressed in crimson, and gold armor throws a spear.

“Woah.” Winnie looks from the woman, to Sam, to Bucky as if to ask if they saw that too.

More women in armor with spears come into the room.

“Are they the Dora Milaje?” Winnie asks Bucky.

He nods.

The lead woman speaks to Bucky in a language Winnie has never heard before. Even she knew that whatever they were here for wouldn’t end well for Zemo.

“Release him to us now.” The woman says.

“Hi, John Walker, Captain America.” John introduces himself. “Well let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this though huh. “

“Now he wants peace.” Winnie mocks.

“Not the time.” Sam says shaking his head. “John, take it easy, You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

“They don’t have jurisdiction here.”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.”

“Okay. Look I think we got off on the wrong foot.” John claps her on the shoulder.

The woman looks at John’s arm and then him. She hits him with a spear multiple times then kicks him away, hitting the spear in the wall and back to the ground. He uses the shield to deflect a spear aiming for him and continues fighting the women.

Zemo continues drinking his cocktail.

“We should do something.”

“Yeah.” Winnie pulls out a bag of popcorn from her backpack. She offers some to Sam. He takes a handful.

“Looking strong, John.”

“Bucky.” Sam warns.

“So the Dora Milaje is the Wakandan army?” Winnie asks the two guys as they watch the fight.

Bucky nods.

“The spears look beautifully made.”

“Ayo.” Bucky grabs the spear in the hands of one woman. “ Let’s talk about this.”

Sam and Bucky enter the struggle.

“ Guys!” Winnie yells.

“We’re a little busy!” Sam yells back to Winnie.

Winnie chases Zemo, but he gets the door and locks it.

“You’re a rat! You know that!” Winnie is banging on the door trying to break it.

Ayo taps Bucky’s arm in a few places and it falls off. She walks off towards where Zemo locked the door.

“He’s gone. Leave it.” She tells another warrior holding the shield.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asks.

“No.” Bucky puts back on his arm and rotates it. The vibranium shifts and hums as it moves back to place.

“You all right, man.” Lemar asks helping John up.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” John gets up.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

“I can, come on.”

“She said what? Hold on Hold on, I know. Listen pack an overnight bag and take the boys.”

“What happened?”

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Sam turns back to his phone,”Okay. Go somewhere safe. Only pay in cash. All right? Let me know when you get there.”

“Damn.” Winnie’s expression grows serious. “ She can’t keep this up.”

“I know. I love you. I’ll never let anything happen to these boys.Okay, bye.”

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number. She said just me and Winnie.”

“Me?” Winnie asks. “ Why?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Karli!” Sam yells out.

Winnie walks with him, rocket boots and other weapons up her sleeves ready.

Bucky follows.

“You called my sister.That’s how we’re gonna play this.”

“I would never hurt her. I wanted to understand you better. I see you two didn’t come alone.”

“You have to end this now.”

“Karli there’s nothing good that can come from this. Just stop this from escalating. Just stop.” Winnie says.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t have to hurt anyone.”

“Sam, you’re just a tool in the regimes. I want to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you it’d be meaningless. I was going to ask you to join me.And you, Winnie, you’re not a tool, you’re a free agent. You could join us. I saw the gadgets the first time we fought. Also you were the closest to downloading all of our mugshots before we started erasing our trail. We could use you.”

“I can’t do that Karli.” Winnie shakes her head.

“Hey Sam,” Sharon’s voice says through Sam’s gear. “ Looks like new Cap is moving. Looks like he found them or maybe they found him.”

“It’s Walker.”

Sam and Bucky jump down colliding with Karli.

“ I’ll send you the location. Go!”

Bucky runs off in search of John.

Winnie kicks on her rocket boots and takes a running leap off the building following Sam.

Sam comes in through the ceiling, Winnie follows through the large hole.

He and Winnie watch as John bends a metal pipe.

“What’d you do?

“They’ve got Lemar.”

Sam and Winnie follow John.

Two super soldiers drop down from the ceiling. One takes on Sam, the other John.

John tosses the shield and hits one in the back and Sam lets his wings take the action.

“What’s with all the knives?”

“Guns are hard to get in Europe. Knives are stylish.” Winnie shoots one in the leg.

Bucky runs in and catches a knife.

Sam now has two super soldiers on him.

Bucky punches one

“You’re welcome.”

An electrified whip hits the other one and knocks them out.

“Sup.” Winnie nods.

Karli, armed with a knife, sees her moment to kill John. She takes it and then is grappled by Lemar dropping her to the ground. They get up and Karli punches him into a pillar in the middle of the room.

John goes over to Lemar.

“Hey. Hey. Hey.” John pats his face. “Lemar. Lemar. Lemar.”

“Shit.” Winnie says softly.

The Flag smashers and Karli flee.

Sam, Bucky, Winnie run after Karlie.

John jumps out of a window and slams onto the street below.

“Where is she?!?” John yells running after the one of the flag smashers.

John knocks the man down beside cement stairs and hits him with the shield. People begin to watch.

“It wasn’t me.” The man pleads. “It wasn’t me!”

John lifts his shield and brings it down several times. Onlookers take videos and scream.

Winnie leans her head on Bucky’s shoulder closing her eyes, away from what just took place in broad daylight, in front of people.

“He snapped.” Winnie whispers with tears in her eyes.

[land-under-wave]

As promised, here’s the complete draft of the weird Scott Pilgrim Red/Green fic in its current state. For information about what’s going on with this fic, please see this post. If you’d only like to read completed sections, please start here and keep following the links.

This is very much a rough draft. Aside from simply incomplete sections, there were a lot of things that needed to be revised, such as: awkward tone shift, two sections being too similar to others, a lot of transitions I didn’t like, a really just inadequate Misty section, bad wording choices, etc. I would estimate it was about 85% done. 

Content warnings: some amount of creepy old man behavior which I did my best to mitigate but was somewhat unavoidable given the premise. For section-specific warnings, in the first part, Green gets close to panic attack territory, and the ending contains physical slapstick comedy and a few references to Officer Jenny I was trying to edit out. A more detailed warning (which touches on ending spoilers and explains how I tried to handle the creepy behavior) can be found here, and the full spoilers with all the details can be found in this post (also linked above).

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A year after Red finally comes down from Mt. Silver, Green gets his head out of his ass long enough to ask Red out on a date. 

Surprisingly, Red agrees. Even more surprisingly, the first date is actually a resounding success. Sure, Green panics for half an hour about what to wear, and it gets off to an incredibly awkward start — Red’s mother is hovering anxiously in a corner because he insisted that it be at his mother’s diner, the douchebag, so they spend twenty minutes in stilted conversation while Green makes attempts at small talk and Red gives monosyllabic answers — has he mentioned that Red is a total douchebag? But then Green loses his temper and starts shouting, which gets Red fired up at last, so they start bickering over training regimens, Green’s childhood dickishness, and that time Red vanished up a mountain for four years, and by the end of the meal, they’ve hashed out most of their issues. 

On impulse, he grabs Red’s hand on the way out, and Red lets him. His fingers curl around Green’s in response, and it sends a jolt of electricity right up to his spine.

This is . . . good. It’s new and unfamiliar and a little terrifying, and sometimes Green just wants to bury his head into a pillow and scream angrily to deal with the confused tornado raging in his chest, because what the hell are emotions, but it’s good.  

A month after they make it official, Green brings Red to a gym leader meeting. Red gets a couple of surprised looks when he walks in, but it fades quickly, and Misty waves him over to the usual corner where she, Brock, and Green sit. If anyone asks, Green is prepared to point out that Red’s still technically champion, but no one does. Everyone must like him enough that it doesn’t matter. 

They wait till after the meeting, when everyone’s milling about and talking to each other, in order to announce that they’re dating. That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“What? Green?” Misty shrieks, while Sabrina looks at him with silently judging disapproval. 

“Oh my,” Erika says delicately, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

“Red, no!” Brock wails.

Green is pretty sure he should be offended. These are his colleagues, after all. He’s been working with them for half a decade — when’s the last time Red even talked to any of these people? Why are they all on his side?

Surge snorts, arms folded. Just when Green thinks he might restore some sanity to the proceedings, he declares, “Think again, boy. You’re not tough enough to make the cut.” 

Green bristles immediately. He and Surge have always had a slightly contentious relationship, because Surge is all hard-nosed discipline and Green is — well, he can admit that he’s a cocky bastard. “And why do I need your approval to date Red anyways?” he sneers, with the full disdainful force of all his teenage attitude. The contempt is not hard to muster up. Nobody here is related to them, and even if they were, he and Red are both adults who can make their own decisions. 

As expected, Surge stiffens at the implicit taunt in his voice, but just as the tension is about to boil over into an argument, Erika steps in with a raised hand and a warning glare to silence him. “Surge,” she says, and that one word is all she needs to restore order. 

Before Green can feel grateful for their calm, sensible supervisor, she turns to him and resumes the thread of conversation. “We have a league,” Erika informs him, serene. “You may not date Red until you defeat all of us.”

Green’s jaw drops open. “Are you serious,” he says, and looks to Red, who just shrugs. 

Great. Big load of help he is. 

“I’m afraid not, my boy. And I’m afraid you’re no match for me,” Blaine says, before laughing at his own stupid pun.

“Why the hell are you so concerned about Red’s love life anyways? What are you, his possessive loser exes?” Green demands. 

He’s expecting a response like, “Don’t be ridiculous,” but instead, to his horror, Erika merely smiles. “What do you think?” she says.

Silence.

Green stares at his colleagues, the seven elite trainers who have been charged with safeguarding all of Kanto, and wonders if he’s losing his mind. Has his hearing gone? He doesn’t think he’s that old, but maybe it’s hereditary. God knows how many times Gramps has misheard his name.

He knows Misty had a crush on Red at one point, but all of them? How the hell did that happen? Red’s never exactly been Kid Casanova here — some days, Green can barely believe Red seduced him — and when did he even have the time for that? He’s spent most of the years since he’s met them alone on a mountain! And hold on a second, Blaine is at least four decades older than him! For that matter, how old is Surge? 

Green is about to have an aneurysm.

He holds his head in both hands as he struggles to wrap his mind around the concept. “Okay. So you’re saying all of you have dated Red, and now I need to defeat you to date him,” he says slowly, hoping that saying it out loud will make things sound more reasonable. It doesn’t. It just makes his head hurt even more. 

What’s worse, Erika doesn’t correct anything he said. She just smiles and nods. “That’s right,” she says, and as if that’s a cue, the others fall in line behind her in a perfect V formation, sliding into battle-ready stances with smiles just shading into predatory. All traces of friendliness have evaporated, turning them into consummate professionals. Even Brock has dropped the doofy attitude for something serious. Surge’s grin is a little too maniacal for comfort, exposing both gums and teeth, and combined with the glint in his eyes, it’s downright feral. 

Green takes a step back, almost involuntarily, and sees Surge’s smile widen in response. Out of spite, Green squares his shoulders and moves back in place, pretending he’s not as uneasy as he actually feels. He scans the seven faces before him, hoping to see a sign of their normal collegial acceptance, but their faces are as solid as stone.

He can’t say he really expected anything else from them. This pose is familiar and well-rehearsed, and they’re all beyond the point where they let the mask slip during official business. Still, Green was hoping that there would be some sign that things would be different for him. After all, this isn’t official business, and in any other situation, Green would be there too, flashing one of his trademark smirks while staring down whatever poor schmuck who Erika decided had earned their ire. But this time, it’s not some hapless criminal or an interfering bureaucrat. He’s the schmuck, and for once in his life, he’s feeling the part. 

Green knows he shouldn’t feel this rattled by a battle stance. As a fellow gym leader, it’s easy to notice all the work that went into constructing it, and the flash of eyes and tilt of head that Erika used as a signal is all too familiar. But it gnaws at his stomach anyways, and it’s not even because all his colleagues have turned against him at the drop of a hat. It’s the space. Or the lack of it. Because the spot where he would be standing has already been taken up. Misty and Brock closed the gap without so much as an exchanged look, and in doing so, they’ve erased his years as Viridian Gym Leader like it was nothing. 

He didn’t think it would be so easy to replace him. 

Green looks at the inch-wide gap between them and swallows, hoping he can swallow down the uncomfortable lump at the bottom of his chest along with it. He’s always tried to ignore it, but sometimes, he gets this sneaking suspicion that they haven’t fully accepted him as one of their own. They’re civil, of course, and sometimes even kind. But kind is different from warm, and that’s what he thinks they lack.

He can’t nail down exactly what it is that separates him from the rest — in terms of join date, Janine’s less than a year his senior, and he doesn’t think any of them except Surge would hold his old, immature attitude against him, since he was mostly grown out of his bratty stage by the time he took over Viridian. But none of that has banished the [sinking feeling] that he’s on the outside, just a little.

So he’s kept his head down like an animal exposing its belly, and every time the doubt rears its ugly head, he redoubles his efforts to earn his way in. He had a hard road from the start, with the stain of Giovanni’s legacy seeped into his gym’s very foundations, but over the years, he’s earned fantastic evaluations, the loyalty of a cohort of talented trainers, and an official commendation here and there. He’s even got a sickeningly gushy page in the Viridian guidebook that made Red laugh at him for twenty minutes straight after one of his challengers showed it to him. When you’re on a mountain with bad reception, those twenty minutes count for a lot.

Green carries all his accomplishments with him, close to his chest, but they don’t do much to dispel the doubts that hang like ghosts in the back of his head. And he thinks that if he stays quiet and still for too long, they might eat him away until he’s nothing.   

He sucks in a breath, but his lungs don’t feel like they’re absorbing air. He presses his hands against his thighs, but that doesn’t do anything to ease the trembling. He tries to count in his head. One. Two. 

“Wow,” says Red’s voice from behind him. “I didn’t know that all it took to defeat the great Green Oak was dramatic posing.”

The sound of that innocent tone sends Green whirling around on instinct. “Oh, shut up, like you can talk!” he shouts, and it comes out as easy as breathing, so easy that he doesn’t notice how much lighter he feels at first. “All it took to defeat you was realizing Mt. Silver would never return your love!” 

“The mountain and I have something special. You’ll never understand, Green,” Red says, very seriously. If it were anyone but Green, they might’ve believed he meant it, but you don’t grow up with someone and not know when they’re just yanking your chain. 

“You know, the only thing I got out of being your childhood friend is the ability to tell when you’re being a dick,” Green tells him sourly.

“Love you too,” Red croons, and okay, he’s definitely doing that on purpose. But if he’s doing it to be a distraction, it’s working. 

He brushes his hand against Red’s. “Thanks,” he says, low enough so that only Red can hear it. Red curls his fingers around the palm of his hand and looks him in the eye, unspoken question burning in his gaze. 

In response, Green draws a breath, takes one final glance at his erstwhile colleagues, and nods.

He can do this. 

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What he might not be able to do, Green reflects as he starts his first match, is endure any more of Brock’s stupid rock references. 

“My Pokemon and I are all rock-hard,” Brock declares proudly. He’s always been cheesy and goofy — probably because of all those younger siblings — but his horrible battle introductions have always taken the cake. And does he realize that by doing this, he’s also teaching his siblings about innuendo? Maybe that’s why they giggle at him all the time.

In all honesty, once you get past all the quirks, Brock is kind of an admirable person. You don’t raise nine kids without earning some respect from Green Oak, and he knows all too well about growing up with absent father figures. But unlike Green, Brock didn’t let that hurt define him growing up. Instead, Brock took on that responsibility without reserve and without complaint, and he grew with it to become a good man. A lot of kind, loving people would’ve broken with it. In comparison, really awful puns and a tendency to hit on every girl in the room aren’t that bad. At least he’s sincere about it instead of just being a sleaze. 

But Brock makes it really goddamn hard to get past those quirks. And when he starts urging Onix to use Harden, that only proves his point.

Things go downhill from there.

With the proximity of their gyms, it’s convenient for Green and Brock to have practice matches together, and he uses the knowledge he’s gleaned from those to plow him down in their fastest match yet, one eye twitching the entire time. There’s no way Brock could be making that many hardness references by accident. “I took you for granted, and so I lost,” Brock says glumly. Then he looks in Red’s direction and cries, “Red, my love, I have failed you!” throwing an arm across his face theatrically. Geez, get a grip. Or a life. Or both.

But instead of treating him with the contempt Brock deserves for this patheticness, his traitor boyfriend pats him on the back sympathetically. Ugh, why is he even dating this jerk? 

At any rate, at least this catastrophe is over. “Loser,” Green scoffs, and heads out to schedule his next match. He catches Red giving Brock a shrug before following after him.  

He never thought he’d say this, but thank god Misty is the Water type Gym Leader. After rocks, they have the most potential for innuendo, but Misty has too much angry dignity to be caught dead like that. If someone tried, steam would come out of her ears and she’d probably yell something about disrespecting the beauty of water types. This shouldn’t be an issue again until Blaine. 

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Misty might not be a fan of innuendo, but she makes up for it with determination and skill. There’s something different about her this time, a strength in her stance that didn’t used to be there, and it centers Misty too much for him to rattle her. 

The first time they fought, she was fourteen years old to Green’s thirteen, a skinny kid who bristled with her inferiority complex and hated anything to do with flowers. Provoking her was a piece of cake, and any suggestion of her inadequacy could send her into a spiral of rage or just as easily send her collapsing in tears. 

In hindsight, it is funny how Misty rejected her famous family while Green embraced his too much, opposite ends of the same spectrum. Green dealt with his issues with his cockiness, Misty with her anger.

This Misty is fully in control. She holds the reins to her anger and reels it in, harnessing it as fuel instead of distraction. She’s ruling her emotions instead of letting them rule her, and in doing so, she’s taken on a bright, focused zeal he’s never seen from her before.

She’s growing into herself, he thinks, and out of her sisters’ shadows.

He’d be proud of her if she wasn’t giving him such a hard time right now.

“You definitely weren’t this hard to beat the first time around!” Green growls, sending out his Scizor.

“Oh, that was just business,” Misty says, rather cheerfully, enough so that Green wants to wring her neck. Her smile widens to just this side of menacing. “This is personal.”

Green gets out of it with his dignity intact, but it’s a close one. Not for the first time, he rues having taken over an Earth-based gym, because it means he has to keep at least a respectable amount of Ground types in his regular training rota and he’s a far less flexible trainer now.

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“About time you showed up,” Surge says, arms folded, boots planted shoulder width apart. Green looks at the severe military cut and the stern expression and wonders what Red ever saw in him. It can’t be a thing for older men, everyone but Surge and Blaine are within a few years of Red. It can’t even be a thing for men. The league is half women, after all.

“Why did you date him anyways?” he hisses to his boyfriend, low enough that Surge won’t hear.

Red shrugs. “We both like Pikachu,” he said. 

The utter loser. 

“I can’t believe you,” Green mutters in disgust. “And people think I’m shallow.” 

“It was only once or twice,” Red says, in what sounds suspiciously like a consoling tone. He pats Green on the shoulder a few times.

He stares at him in confusion until the dots connect. “What the — I’m not jealous!” Green cries indignantly. He’s just perplexed, and that’s a very different thing. Green Oak is above such petty things as jealousy. 

Red just pats him on the shoulder some more. 

Green Oak also does not need such things as consoling, so before his boyfriend can be even more of a passive aggressive dick, he turns to Surge. “Let’s just get this over with.” And maybe it’s sheer frustration or his natural tendency to be a brat to Surge, or maybe it’s just type advantage finally being on his side for once, but for some reason, this time the victory comes easier than all the previous.

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“Are you sure you want to do this, Green?” Erika asks. She cocks her head to the side, and for the first time since he accepted this stupid challenge, Green feels a sense of trepidation. Erika is, after all, kind of his boss, and she’s also one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met. 

You wouldn’t think it to look at her. Most of the people in Kanto never get the chance to see anything more than a sweet woman who likes gardening and flower arrangements. Her colleagues, on the other hand, experience a whole different side of her, with all the talents that got her appointed as Kanto supervisor. Things like her ability to calmly reason with anyone, her backbone of steel, and a carefully hidden serial killer crazy that can outstrip Surge at his worst.

He breaks out into a cold sweat. Is he ready for this? Sure, he’s beaten her before, but the first time he battled her, he was still stupid enough to think Erika was soft and beating her would be easy, and weirdly enough, that stupidity gave him the reckless brilliance he needed to take her down instead of causing his downfall. He might’ve become a better battler in the meantime, but now he’s too cautious to use those same crazy strategies and he also knows that she was taking it easy on him — all gym leaders adjust their level to their opponent’s in official matches.  

More than ever, Green is acutely aware of the differences between him and his thirteen year old self. There was a kind of fearlessness that came with being young and feeling like the world was at your fingertips. He spent pretty much his entire Pokemon journey swaggering around like being thirteen meant he was now a real adult and the world would just fall at his feet, and even losing the championship to Red didn’t quite jolt him out of it. Green’s only eighteen now, but he feels unbearably older, more off balance, uncertain of everything he needs to do. It’s funny how he couldn’t wait to get older when he first set out from Pallet Town, but now he just wants the carefree bravado of thirteen again. Why did he decide to grow up? Who told him it was a good idea? 

“Backing out now, Green?” says a dry, challenging voice, and all the air goes out of his lungs. But in a good way. 

He didn’t have this at thirteen.

Now that he’s back in reality, Green pulls up his disdain like a barrier against his fear. “As if,” he sneers.

“Good. After all, you still have to win me,” Red says. He bats his eyelashes, and the sight is so horrifying that it wipes all thoughts of Erika from his head immediately. “Your princess awaits inside the castle.” 

“Princess? Yeah, right. You’d never be able to pull off the dress,” he shoots back automatically. He feels himself ease, the seas inside him settling down as he sinks into the rhythm of the familiar. He even lifts his chin and smirks as he says, “You know what, I think I change my mind. Let’s call the whole thing off, I need someone who’s better-looking than you.”

“Aw, but nothing’s as ugly as your personality,” Red says, and that tone would sound sweet if it weren’t coming from someone who’s halfway allergic to sincerity. But at the same time, he covers Green’s hand with his and gives him a smile like a secret. “You can do it,” he says, with an iron, quiet faith. 

Green breathes out, long and slow. “You’re right, I can,” he says, turning back to Erika. He flashes her a smirk full of confidence that he’s actually starting to feel and declares, “I won’t back down.” It comes out as an oath, and he’s not sure if it’s to himself or to Red, but he knows he won’t lose. 

She shrugs elegantly, but it doesn’t feel like as much of a threat this time. She’s just an ordinary woman now. “Very well,” she says, and sends out Tangela. 

Throughout the battle, Red doesn’t let go of his hand.

.

.

.

Sabrina’s waiting at the door of her gym when Green and Red walk up to the entrance. “You’ve arrived, as I predicted,” she says.

“Uh, yeah, we scheduled the match in advance,” Green points out. Beside him, he can hear Red muffling already-quiet laughter. Why does he enjoy Green’s discomfort? Is he just a sadist?

“We did not arrange that you would arrive twenty minutes early,” Sabrina responds, and turns around to lead him inside before Green can get the last word.

Green fights the urge to make a rude gesture at her back out of sheer spite. He and Sabrina have never been that close. They have a shared interest in freaking people out for fun and games, but Sabrina does it by being sinister and cryptic, while Green prefers sheer power with a dash of douchebaggery instead of mind screws. Even though he knows he’s still a total dick, being around Sabrina makes him feel weirdly benevolent in comparison. 

In that regard, she’s a little more like Red—they’re both closed-mouthed and hold their cards close to their chest until something makes them give them away. But it’s weird to think that Sabrina is anything like his boyfriend, so Green shuts off that train of thought as fast as he can. He can’t really explain why he likes Red so much more than Sabrina. It’s not just shared history, there’s something deeper there between them that he can’t quantify. Maybe it’s just that the things Red holds to his chest align with Green’s own brand of awfulness, maybe it’s just that Sabrina somehow manages to be even weirder than Red. 

Whatever the case, Sabrina’s tactics might have a point. This battle feels like the worst one yet, not because of the difficulty, but because of the tense, hard air in the gym, Sabrina’s ever-present smile like another ghost skulking in the background. This battle doesn’t excite him, it just exhausts him. He just wants it to be over, and in his haste, he makes mistakes. Sloppy ones, like trying to use Tackle against Gengar even though he’s grown up knowing Normal type moves don’t work on Ghost types. It doesn’t help that the mere presence of Gengar in the Psychic gym had thrown him off to begin with.

Sabrina seems to be sensing his discomfort, because the funny little grin on her face widens with his growing unease. For the first time, he truly sees what a formidable opponent she is, wielding both psychic powers and psychology against her challengers to damage them physically and mentally. It was another thing that his complete and utter self-confidence had made him immune to the first time. 

Idly, he wonders if that was the point of this, one big scheme to make him appreciate his colleagues more as trainers. If so, it worked. But was he really that bad before? Maybe he’d ask Erika once this awful quest was over.

If that is the case, though, ironically, it’s also her undoing, because as the match goes on, Green also starts to see the woman he knows inside the mysterious figure at the other end of the gym, and focusing on that familiarity helps combat the unease. In the end, Green can’t really say that it’s his skill that wins the day. It feels more like luck, just a game of who can outlast the other and he happened to draw the winning card. But when Alakazam falls, it seems to break the spell over the room. The lingering tension dissipates, just as ghostly as the atmosphere that had created it, and the world comes back into focus.

Sabrina looks at her fallen Pokemon and, bizarrely, smiles as she recalls it back into its Pokeball. “Your love for Red overwhelmed my psychic power . . . The power of love, I think, is also a kind of psychic power . . .” Sabrina intones.

“Okay?” Green says. Even ignoring the psychic powers, Sabrina has always been a weirdo. 

Sabrina says something else, but he’s not really paying attention. Instead, he grabs his boyfriend’s wrist.  “Red, let’s get out of here,” he says. He’s ready to blow this joint, and if he has to be in this creepy gym much longer, he’s going to make that literal. 

.

.

.

Out of all the other Gym Leaders, Green thinks Janine might be his polar opposite. Sure, they’re around the same age and their names kind of rhyme, but Green is brash and confident and walks like he owns the place, while Janine . . . well, Janine is naive and enthusiastic to the point where she’s pretty much tripping over her own feet. She seems too young for her authority, while Green wields his so easily that people are startled when they find out his actual age.

It’s weird to think that Red could date two such different people. Heck, it’s weird to think that he could get two such different people to date him. Maybe he realized he didn’t like that type and that’s why he’s dating Green now, he muses.  

That still doesn’t explain why both Janine and Green agreed to date him. Insanity? That must be it, because it also explains why he’s fighting all of his colleagues over his dick of a childhood friend.

But the biggest difference between them, Green thinks, is that Janine has never gotten over her yearning for her absent father. She still desperately wants to make Koga proud. Even now, he sees in the way she forms her stance that she’s trying to follow his teachings.

Still, in spite of their [different] reactions, struggling to cope with the fame of their family line and its looming shadow over their entire lives is something they have in common. Someday, she’ll have to figure out how she wants to be a gym leader, separate from her father’s legacy. Someday, she’ll have to make a name for herself as Janine, Gym Leader of Fuschia City and not Janine, daughter of Koga. No one will ever respect her if she doesn’t — Green’s learned that the hard way.

Someday, she will have to walk her own path. But that day is not today.

“Are you ready, Green? Cause I’m not going to wait for you to catch up!” Janine calls, sounding very un-ninja-like. Green briefly mourns the loss of the mystique. He used to think ninjas were cool.

“It’s my duty to defeat you on the behalf of all evil exes everywhere!”

“You can’t be serious,” Green says.

“Sure, I am!” Janine says. She pulls out a small, colorful rectangle from somewhere with her magical ninja arts and waves it around. “After all, I’m a card-carrying member of Red’s League of Evil Exes!”

There are cards now. Green looks at his boyfriend and says, “Red, what did you do to them?”

Red just looks at them and shrugs, looking mildly confused himself. But not confused enough that he’ll actually do something about it, Green notes sourly. 

.

.

.

Cinnabar’s volcanoes are as fascinating as always, but Green is too busy stewing to enjoy it. He marches past all the ads for hot spring resorts and into the Gym, braced for what lies ahead of him. Blaine is waiting for him inside. “You’ve made it, my boy,” he said, and the expression on his face is almost like a proud parent.

Green scowls. He used to respect Blaine. He is, after all, one of the finest scientific minds in all of Kanto, and while Green isn’t a scientist, Gramps has instilled him with a healthy respect for their work. Even the punning had been bearable. He had earned the right for a quirk. 

But this? This was going too far.

Blaine at least has the decency to wait until they’re all set up for battle before he springs the next part of his awful sense of humor on him. “And now, a quiz! What makes you worthy to date Red?” Blaine asks.

“What made you worthy? You’re an old man! Red was a teenager!” Green shoots back. He’s pretty fuzzy on the timeline of Red’s awful lovelife, but there’s no way Red was any older than fifteen whenever the hell they dated. He’s pretty sure Red wasn’t in some demented long distance relationship while still on that goddamn mountain. 

Blaine gives him a creaky shrug. “What can I say? Red really lights a fire in my heart,” he chuckles. 

“I’m reporting you to Officer Jenny when this is over,” Green informs him. Gym leader or not, perverted old creeps shouldn’t be allowed in society. Especially not the punning ones.

But reporting him to the officer and letting her punish him for his sins would be cheating if Green does it before he beats Blaine fair and square. He doubts the rest of this stupid league would accept that as defeating Blaine and their ridiculous challenge, so he sends out Rhydon and prepares for a fight.

.

.

.

After an excruciating moment, Arcanine falls.

“Oh,” says Red’s voice. Green looks over his shoulder to see him standing along the wall of the gym, near the entrance. It’s completely like the sneaky bastard to come in secret and Green can’t even be mad at him as he looks at the battlefield and asks, “Is it over?”

For a moment, Green doesn’t know how to answer him. He doesn’t even know how to speak. He just breathes, as the adrenaline drains out of his lungs and euphoria replaces it. His shoulders slump. He looks at the ceiling. It’s over. This ridiculous journey is finally over. He can now date Red in peace. 

And then the applause starts.

.

.

.

Erika is the first one to emerge, from behind one of the outcroppings of rock near the back of the gym. Brock is next, followed by Misty, while Surge, Janine, and Sabrina come out from the other side. They form a line at the head of the gym, and bizarrely, every single one of them is clapping, even Surge, though he looks like he’s been forced into it. While Green looks at them, too stunned to react, Blaine moves back to take a spot next to Sabrina.  

“Congratulations, Green,” Erika says, smiling. She looks genuinely happy for him, as does Janine, but Surge still looks vaguely murderous and Brock looks like he might cry with happiness. 

“What’s going on?” Green demands. On closer inspection, Brock’s “about to cry” face is more like a father watching his child leaving on a Pokemon journey, so proud that it’s spilled over to sad. It worsens the distinct feeling that something’s been going on in the background that he doesn’t know about.

Erika coughs delicately. “I’m afraid we must admit to a deception,” she says, serene as ever. “We are not actually a league of Red’s exes.”

If Green gets any more revelations in the next week, he’s going to have a stroke.

After a beat of frozen silence, he splutters out, “You’re not?” in a tone that’s half confusion, half demand for an explanation. He looks all around him and then waves his hand at the entire gym, a gesture which turns sharp and wild with his anger. “Then what was all of this for?”  

“Well, we’re not a league of Red’s exes, but we are all members of ‘Red’s League of Allies Against His Evil Ex-Best Friend Who Broke His Heart,’” Misty explains. She frowns at him. “He was pretty torn up over you during his Pokemon journey, you know.”

Dumbfounded, all Green can manage is, “You can’t be serious.” 

“But we are,” Janine says earnestly. She produces her card out of nowhere again and hands it over to Green, who’s now close enough to read the letters embossed on the front. It does, as she’s claimed, state Gym Leader Janine of Fuschia City to be a member of Red’s League of Allies Against His Evil Ex-Best Friend Who Broke His Heart. It’s even made out of red plastic.

Well. One part of him is touched to know that Red had valued their friendship so deeply. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, with his stoic man of mystery act. 

The other part is just plain indignant. “That was over five years ago!” Green screeches. They started their journeys when they were thirteen, for God’s sake!  

A new thought occurs to him. “And if this was all fake, why was Brock going on about his love and hardening?”

“Did he? Oh, that scenery-chewing ham! I knew he would get carried away!” Misty says in disgust. 

“I was trying to go for realism!” Brock protests 

“That’s only realism for you, you sleazy flirt!” she snaps, and yanks at his ear. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” he yelps.

While Misty’s handling that headache, Green tries to replay the conversation where this all started. “I was the one who first brought up the idea that you were exes,” he mumbles, a little horrified. 

“Once you made the assumption, I thought it might work to our advantage,” Erika explains calmly. “A test of your reaction to his supposedly storied history, so to speak.”

“So you just made it up on the spot?” Green says, nearly speechless. How on earth had he fallen for a hastily thrown together scheme? What had it even been centered around, seeing if he was the kind of douchebag who’d storm off and call Red a slut? He’s Green Oak. You don’t get to be one of the top trainers in Kanto by the time you’re fifteen without being a good strategist.

Then again, clearly, all of his colleagues are absolutely insane. No one ever taught Green how to anticipate that. 

Erika smiles apologetically. “Please do forgive us, Green, but we had to make sure you two were serious about this. Your friendship ended so badly, and we didn’t want this to end the same way. After all, the poor boy was so heartbroken that he went up a mountain to get away from you.”

Green’s jaw drops. “Okay, that one was not my fault!” He’s willing to accept the blame for being a dick, for being generally unhelpful with Team Rocket, and a lot of other things, but he draws the line at the goddamn mountain.

“Sabrina?” asks Janine curiously.

The psychic in question is studying her nails, looking bored. “My powers aren’t meant to be used for answering this sort of nonsense,” she says. “Ask him yourself.” 

“Hold up!” Green shouts, before they can get too off topic. “How was this supposed to make sure I was serious about him?”

“You can be a fickle, capricious sort of person, Green,” Erika explains. “So we thought that, with a series of challenges in your way, if this was some kind of idle whim, you would abandon your quest.” 

Green tries to wrap his head around that logic and fails. “How was that supposed to work?” he demands. “What if I was just in it for the challenge of beating the entire Kanto League again and not for Red?” 

Erika just smiles. “You don’t have enough of a death wish for that,” she says, like she’s sentencing someone to execution. 

Green freezes and feels his spine go rigidly straight at the sound of her tone. That smile looks sweet at first glance, but it’s just a little too perfect, a little too gentle, carefully controlled in a way that says she could easily let that control snap at a moment’s notice. It’s the kind of smile that might be the last thing you see before you die. 

Holy Arceus, there are no words in the universe to describe how terrifying Erika is. 

Green breaks eye contact as soon as he can and shakes his head a few times, just to get out the lingering feeling of dread. He quickly turns his mind to another topic. “Okay, so who really has dated Red?” he asks, just to get everything straightened out once and for all.

“None of us. Particularly not me,” Blaine answers. “You young whippersnappers are practically infants.”

“Misty did ask him out once, but he turned her down,” Brock chips in. 

“Hey! That was years ago, and I’m over him anyways!” Misty splutters, cheeks bright red. She shoulders him hard in the chest and snarls, “Stop bringing that up!” still blushing furiously.

“Ow, that hurts!” Brock yelps.

“You deserve it!” Misty hollers back, and the two of them start arguing again.

You know what, maybe Green doesn’t need to get revenge for all the innuendo after all. Misty’s been doing a pretty good job of enacting it for the both of them. 

Misty stomps on Brook’s foot, and Blaine winces. “Please don’t call Officer Jenny,” he says. 

.

.

.

In the chaos, Green realizes there’s one party they’ve forgotten about entirely. “And you!” He whirls around and points at his erstwhile boyfriend, whose expression is blankly nonchalant. To a stranger, he might’ve even looked innocent. “There’s no way they could’ve gotten away with it unless you played along! But you haven’t dated any of them!” 

“Nope,” he confirms, wearing a funny little smile on his face. He’s clearly enjoying himself, and the smugness of his expression only increases as he coos out, “You’re my one and only.”

That tone he’s using is the stuff of nightmares, and Green blanches, reeling back on instinct. He can hear Red laughing at him inside his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, refusing to let that deter him.

“It was funny,” Red says, and then, in a perfect deadpan, “Besides, it was a nice revenge. You drove me up a mountain, after all.” 

Green is at least seventy-five percent certain that isn’t true and Red’s just playing along to be a douchebag. “Why, you—!” he growls, and instinct born of ten years of childhood games takes over. He tackles him to the ground, fisting his hands into his shirt so he can drag him up by the collar. He hears someone shout behind him, and it’s probably because they’re a little too old for roughhousing, but Red, Red understands him. Red doesn’t panic or protest. Red just lifts his head to meet his glare with a smirk, and then leans up, grabs his head, and kisses him.

There’s still noise in the background, but it fades away as the world becomes nothing but Red. 

.

.

.

Later, while they’re falling asleep, Green asks, “You didn’t really go up the mountain because I broke your heart, did you?”

“No,” Red answers, but before Green can let out a breath of relief, he says, “I went up there cause you were so annoying that I wanted a break from you.”

In a display of supreme maturity, Green kicks Red in the shins. Some things never change.

[inessencedevided]

The Untamed, episode 46 - watching notes

Full disclosure: I'm not in a particularly good mood today. Have you seen that "no productivity. Only guild." Meme flying around? That's me today :|

Hopefully this will distract me (though distraction was the problem in the first place 🙈)

I apologise for any typos you'll finde in this post 😅

To recap, the last thing I learned was that apparently, Jiggy married his own sister because Jin Guangshan was a scumbag who raped more women than he could possibly remember

I was told by several people that this episode is their favourite. No pressures or anything :D

The way someone is dragging up Jiggy's secrets has a lot of poetic justice to it. Everyone is outraged and gossiping. Consensus is reached quickly. Kinda makes me feel that that someone (who probably also wrote the letter to jgy) knows exactly how to use the sect world's worst qualities as a weapon

Yao what's-his-name, resident gossip queen, at it again

Don't look at me my memory is as bad as wwx when it comes to names :D

I was about to write who is Lianfang Zum again and then I remembered that it's jiggy's honorary title. See what I mean? ^^

What does it say about me that my heart makes a leap when I simply see wwx leaning close to lwj to whisper to him? 😅 I'll probably die reading the novel, that's what that says

Oh so it was the maid who sent the letter

Come on Wei Wuxian! That was cruel

Yeah Yao what's-his-name, why would you need to know the identity of who ever is behind this? It's not like you've ever been deceived before!

What's... with that bracelet?

I love it how everyone looks positively startled when Lan Wangji says something unprompted :D

Wait ... Zwei Jun is in his hands? Shit, i don't remeber what happened there. Where did Xichen go again? 😬

I'm so confused right now 🙈 I can't watch and read the subtitles and type

Okay, watched the whole conversation again, now I'm following

I reiterate my earlier statement that whoever is pulling the strings here knows exactly what strings to pull to get the clans to act

Great, another mob 🙄

Loooool

NOW you want his help? 😂

Sure, as soon as he can serve YOU with his "evil tricks", that's okay!

You can see how much wwx changed because he does not hold their hypocrisy to their faces. He mostly seemed tired of it

And Jiang Cheng just realised that wwx might indeed not be responsible for Jiang Yanli's death, didn't he? He's almost stunned 🥺

Or is BEAUTIFUL to see Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji move in such unity! 😭

Oh ... those are the graves of his foster parents, right? :(

And Yanli ... oh God I forgot about Yanli 🥺

I'm crying again. Nothing on this show will ever hit as hard to me as the Yunmeng siblings' fate

I couldn't help myself, I legitimately just stroked my laptop screen where Yanli's plate was 🥺

So many conflicting emotions

Thanks to a friendly anon, I know that these three bows together are marriage thing! 😭😭😭

So yeah, they're married now. I dont make the rules :')

Somehow, this feels like them asking wwx's foster family's blessing

And now I'm imagining Shijie smiling back at them gently and I'm crying 🥺

And by God, I love lwj's gentle teasing :')

This whole scene, he's so soft! 😭

And it think that Wei Wuxian probably thought that he'd never get to step into Lotus Pier again. But here, he can finally say his goodbyes to his Shijie properly. He can heal! 🖤

And again, I cannot stress enough how wonderful that is! And how rare and precious in a show like this. So often character's get put through unimaginable trauma, but they either brush it off no problem or the show/movie ends immediately after the main action and you are left to imagine the number it did on the character's psyche. There are so rarely fantasy shows that really dive into the emotional fallout the plot has on their characters and then give them time to heal. Thus show does both and I'm so goddamn overjoyed my it!

Come to think of it, it reminds me of a very good hurt/comfort fic 🤷‍♀️

Jiang Cheng pleae, fir once, try not to be angry immediately when you're hurting :(

He still takes special offence that lwj is there. Makes me wonder if he still feels like wwx chooses lwj over the Jiang sect and is still hurt by it 😔 (note that at the same time, he reminds wwx that he's very much not a member of the Jiang clan anymore. God, the man has not worked through his own feelings ...)

For once, as much as I love it when lwj defends wwx (especially when it's not against any physical harm, but because he doesn't want wwx to be hurt emotionally) I think him interfering with this particular conflict does not help

Okay sorry, but no! lotus pier was not destroyed because wwx saved lwj in that cave. That was just an excuse for the Wen sect. They would have come eventually anyway

Ohhh

So there's my answer

He's still hurt because he feels wwx chooses anyone else over his family, which is to say him

And he probably can't understand because their positions are so different. The (future) sect leader and the son of a (dead) servant and a rogue cultivator who never felt quite like he belonged 😔

It's so goddamn tragic how much between these two was destroyed simply because they have such a different status in society and could never quite understand each other's perspective

And again, wwx just takes it 💔

Until, that is, lwj's honour gets besmirched

Don't fight in front of Shijie 🥺

Jiang Cheng's every action screams that he still loves his brother and that amidst all that pain for his lost family, is also deep betrayal and grieve for the brother he thought he could always count on 🥺💔

Can we appreciate for a second how much this shot tells us? From Jiang Cheng's angry desperation, to Wei Wuxian's quite acceptance of his rage (which must be so confusing to Jiang Cheng and probably hurt him even more. Because fighting is always how these two resolved their issues!) to Lan Wangji who is in full on protective mode (which I find more than heartwarming,but still think probably isn't helpful rn)

He ... what?

I still don't quite understand when exactly wwx's lack of golden core shows. Why does he have a nosebleed here?

What?

Oh!

Wen Ning 😱

I get what he wants to do!

Have we ever seen him this calm and determined before?

Abd they understand 😱😱😱

The look on all of their faces! Shiiiiit

I'm crying again

Oh wangii is crying 🥺

Wen Quing 💔💔💔 I'm crying even harder just looking at her. I've MISSED her 🥺

Lan Zhan your FACE!! 😭

The way he's looking at wwx in his arms, as if he's seeing him fir the first time

And by god, I can only imagine what he must be thinking

He must be reevaluation every single interaction they had since wwx started down the path of demonic cultivation 😭

I'm a bit in awe of Wen Ning here and how much he must have been holding in. That's the steadiest and most confident he's ever been

Oh Jiang cheng 💔

That looks like a man whose entire world has just been shaken to its core

And Lan Wangji is crying so much 🥺

God I hope he doesn't blame himself even more 🥺

Aaaaaaahhhh, so that is why he wouldn't just carry the sword for appearance sake and why he just had a nosebleed!

Jiang Cheng probably needs about a month to process all that :/

And therapy ...

Aaaaaaahhhh! The boat scene! I've seen gifs! 😍😍😍

A penny for Lan Wangji's thoughts ...

Oh I'm so so so so glad that Wen Ning gets to say thank you to the man who raised his ... cousin (?) :')

Oh god we get to see!!!!

Oh little a Yuan 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I wonder now, did Lan Qiren know who the child was that his nephew suddenly brought back to cloud recess?

I'm glad that we all learned from this that keeping secrets from the people we love, especially secrets that concern them personally, will eventually come back to bide us in the ass. Than you for delivering that important lesson, wen Ning!

Which reminds me that I hope they eventually tell wwx that they know 😬

I swear to god, one of these days I will melt from the gentleness in lan Wangji's gaze :')

Shit. He had to be awake? 😳

You can pinpoint the moment Lan Wangji's heart breaks for all the suffering wwx endured and how close he came to loosing him even then 🥺

Waking like that in you lovers arms in the middle of a lotus pond - that's the dream *sighs* (minus the passing out bit)

It's weirdly cute that wwx thinks that it's Jiang Cheng's insults that have lwj so upset 😅

Oh GOOOOD ...

I can't

The moment Yanli's themes started to play and she appeared I started to bawl 😭😭😭

And he's sharing the lotus pods with them ... oh please, lwj, please understand what he's saying. That's his pove language! His sister's food was how he received love and right now he passes it on to you! Please, please understand it! 🥺

Oh lwj, don't 🙈

Awwwwww ....

He's breaking the rules for you!!! Just to make you smile!!! 😭😭

And holy shit look at their expressions 😭

By now you should know that he's willing to break the rules for you :')

And poor third wheel Wen Ning 😂

Now there are glittering butterflies???

Do they have some kind of romantic aesthetic bingo going on in this episode???

Oh okay, messenger butterflies

Please appreciate wwx almost climbing into lan Wangji's lab in excitement :D

Thay scene transition was pretty af!

Hey! Why do they bully wen Ning? 😤

*shakes wwx by the shoulders* DO YOU GET THAT HE LOVES YOU NOW???

Huh, this episode was a roller coaster. you guys did NOT exaggerate! I loved it to pieces. I'm floored once more by all the actor's performances. Wen Ning revealed a lot about his character, Jiang Cheng broke my heart, Lan Wangji made it melt and Shijie is still able to make me bawl in an instant. But ... I'm not left with a bitter feeling. Sure, jiang Cheng and wei Wuxian havebt reconciled, but the truth is the first step to even have that possibility. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are both healing and whatever happens in the last 4 (4!!!😭) episodes, I'm not dreading it that much right now. I feel like we're climbing upwards :)

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose thank you guys for staying with me for this crazy ride 💙🖤💙

Also one last thing: please don't tell me what happens differently in the novel in any given scene. I am still reading it (about half way through rn) and I'd like to still be surprised by stuff like first kisses and love confessions 💙🖤

I should have put something like this at the end before, but I always forgot. That's on me 😅 so don't feel bad, if you've shared something before :)

[vintagevalentinex]

Decode, VII

I had such a wonderful time writing this part up!!  I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! xoxo

P.S.  Please let me know what you think!

Decode, VII by vintagevalentinexx Mycroft Holmes x Reader ~1540 words

This was truly too good to be true.  This evening is going way too smoothly.

Thankfully you had the mind to know that he was going to take you somewhere upscale.  You were quickly ushered to a table in the back of the restaurant, away from any prying eyes.  The area was cozy, but not overly intimate.  Two chairs were immediately taken away from the four-top you were being led to.  As soon as you sat down Mycroft was already ordering things in rapid-fire French.  He looked up for a moment.

“Red gives you headaches, yes?”

You did a double-take, smiling, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m not even going to begin to ask how you knew that, but yes.”

He smirked at you, smug, as he completed the order, his eyes soon finding yours, as if he were analyzing you yet again.

“Did you enjoy your day?”

“It was rather nice. I was able to do some sight-seeing. I never really get to with the busy schedule I keep.  Thank you for the transportation.  It would have been much more difficult to get around the city.”

“It was no problem at all, (Y/N).  I’m sure it’s been quite a while since you’ve taken a break.”

It was your turn.  “Are you saying I look tired, Mycroft?”

He faltered for a moment, his façade wavering for only the briefest of milliseconds, but it was long enough for you to see it.

“I am merely stating that with someone as coveted in your field as you are, it must make planning a vacation a nightmare.”

You smirked at him, returning the favor, immediately being on your best behavior as the waiter came back to serve the wine.

It was then that you noticed it.  There was an obvious tension between the both of you, but it wasn’t a terrible one.  You weren’t exactly sure what you would call it, but it was apparent that you were fascinated with one another.  You found yourself growing more and more amused at the banter which seemed to flow so effortlessly between the both of you. You couldn’t recall a time where you felt the way you did with anyone else.  You were certain you’d never been in love before, that’s for sure.  Sure, there were attractive people; that was just biology at play.  But a genuine connection with someone?  Someone who could relate to you?  No.  No…that was something you were convinced that didn’t exist for you.  But then you are thrust into this wild situation, in the presence of a man whose mind seemed just as advanced as yours, and for the first time in your entire life, you felt a little less lonely.  From this day on, no matter what happened, no matter who you encountered, you finally knew that there were other people out there like you.

“You sense it too, yes?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Mycroft once again.  He stared at you knowingly, as if he were reading your thoughts the entire time. You could do nothing but nod as you let him continue.

“For those of us who are, shall we say, above average, it can be quite difficult to navigate social situations, let alone dealings with people.”

You found yourself leaning closer, completely enthralled.  It was as if he was saying all of the things you constantly think.  It looked as though he was going to speak again, but the Maitre d’ of the restaurant hurriedly came to your table.

“My deepest apologies, Sir.  I tried my very best to keep him out of the restaurant but he simply insisted.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, sighing deeply.  You furrowed your eyebrows, opening your mouth to speak, Mycroft cutting you off.

“I must apologize to you in advance, (Y/N).  We are about to be interrupted by my nuisance of a brother and his keeper.”

You whipped your head around to meet the stormy blue eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

“Ah, (Y/N).  So nice to see you still in London…tell me, how is it that Mycroft forcibly kept you here?”

John soon followed him in.  “Sherlock where did you say this contact wa—damn it Sherlock this is not a case!”

“Oh but John it most certainly is…”

John did a double-take between you and Mycroft.  His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were a fish.

“Come now John…even you can deduce what is unfolding here.”

John pointed between the both of you, Mycroft growing more and more irritated and red in the face as you grew more and more embarrassed.  He began to chuckle, a grin forming on his face.

“Is this…?  Are you two…?  No.  No bloody way.”

Mycroft not so gently slammed his hands on the table in front of him, standing up in front of his brother and John.  He shot them both a cold look, aggravation coming off of him in waves.

“Leave. Immediately.”

Sherlock grinned wickedly at his brother.

“Oh no, brother mine.  The night’s only just begun!”

You blanched as you watched the waiter bring over two more chairs, Sherlock and John now flanking either side of the table.  Your eyes finally met Mycroft’s once more, his offering an apology.  Sitting there for a moment more, you quickly excused yourself from the table, making your way toward the washroom.

As soon as you were out of their line of vision, you made your way outside, frantically shooting a text off to Mycroft, hoping that he had his phone available to him.

“It’s a shock that you haven’t frightened her off yet, brother.”

“I don’t understand why you insist on interfering.  This is none of your concern.  I—“

Mycroft felt his phone vibrate from inside his suit jacket.  Quickly glancing, he noticed that he had a text message.

[1 New Text Message.]

[8:36pm] I am outside.  Meet me there.  Your brother is an ass.

Fighting a smile, he stood up from the table, making concern wash over his features.

“I’m sorry gentlemen I have to take care of this.  Do enjoy your evening together.”

You leaned against the building, hoping that he received your text.  Your heart pounded, hoping to high heaven that Sherlock or John didn’t read the text.  You were sure that neither of you would be able to live that down.

“Clever girl.”

You smiled up at him, his face matching your own deviousness.  

“I did not want to spend my entire night with them.  I’m pretty positive you didn’t want to either.”

He stared down at you amusedly, offering you his arm.  “Lead the way.”

That’s how you ended up on a park bench next to Mr. “Minor Position in the Government” eating street vendor food.

Laughter began to bubble from your lips, shaking your head as you thought at the entire situation.

“It is pretty ridiculous, don’t you think?”

He turned to face you, thankful that you were taking the evening in stride.

“I’m sorry that my brother decided to ruin a perfectly fine evening, (Y/N)…”

“Oh…I wouldn’t quite say it’s ruined…I’ve actually been enjoying myself very much.”

He stood up, offering you his arm again, which you gladly accepted.  You couldn’t say you had walked with someone in such a close proximity before, but you certainly didn’t mind.  There was something nice about your arm linked loosely with his at the elbow as he walked you through the park, telling you random and interesting facts about London.  The both of you finally stopped in front of an illuminated fountain, the only sound you could hear was the water flowing and jetting out from the fountain.  You dug into your purse, pulling out two coins, pressing one into Mycroft’s hand.

“Here.  Make a wish!”

He looked at you incredulously.

“Do you really believe in such frivolity, (Y/N)?  Have I misjudged you?”

You rolled your eyes, your smile giving you away.

“It’s not that I believe…but who knows, really.  It doesn’t hurt at least…”

He gave you a playful albeit withering glance, holding the coin in his fingers before tossing it into the fountain.  You took a moment, closing your eyes, before tossing your coin into the water.  

Mycroft walked you all the way back to your hotel room door after much persistence…again.  The both of you stood there, unmoving, before you finally spoke.

“I really enjoyed tonight, Mycroft.”

“As did I.”

“I’m glad that it ended up this way, to be honest.  The park was lovely.”

“Would you agree to seeing me again, (Y/N)?”

You smiled again.  You seemed to be smiling a lot more lately. Interesting.

“I would enjoy that very much.”

After another short stretch of silence, you couldn’t help but wonder.

“What did you wish for?”

“Hmm…?”

“When you threw the coin into the fountain…what did you wish for?”

He looked at you fondly, gathering his thoughts.

“You’ve just made my ‘wish’ come to fruition…perhaps there is something to these ‘wishes’ you seem to believe in.”

With a hand on the doorknob, you wished him a goodnight softly.

“(Y/N)…”

“Yes…?”

“And just what did you ‘wish’ for?”

Opening the door, you turned around, smirking at him.

“Well…if I told you, it wouldn’t come true.”

Next Part!

[unto-myself-together]

From Dusk to Dawn, ch 2 (ESO fanfic)

Content warnings for this specific chapter: references to sex. Brief descriptions of violence. Occasional light cursing (i.e. damn, ass. It’s very infrequent though)

Author notes (a lot of notes, sorry!!):

Previous chapters: Chapter 1

Author notes (skip to the squiggly lines--> ~~~~~~ if you want to jump straight into the story)

You can also read the story on my Archive of Our Own Account here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23343163/chapters/64680022#workskin

Lots of notes here (and I apologize for that. But this chapter had a lot of stuff going on. There are a couple of explanations for anyone who is interested/confused by something that went on in this chapter.):

Hey everyone. I really really hope you all have been doing much better during these troubled times than I have. I have an anxiety disorder (as well as a couple of other things and chronic medical conditions) and let’s just say that this does not exactly mix well with a worldwide pandemic. Let me just say that if it wasn’t for ESO and my ESO guildies, I don’t know where I’d be.

I love your comments. All of them. I have been coming back just to read them again and again, and when I get the chance I want to respond to each and every one of them. You all are so beautiful; thank you… And thank you to the person who left that extremely lovely message in my ask box on Tumblr! I’m not sure how to let you know, how to respond in a way that you will see (are you still around?), but if you can see this: I love you and I loved, loved, loved your message!

I missed writing. A lot. But I have so tired lately that I was having difficulties writing this next chapter. I finally got it out and I wanted to share it with all of you. This one is a bit more lighthearted than the last (we’re going to go on a rollercoaster here, with lighthearted chapters intermixed with not-so lighthearted chapters). I also changed the tags a bit.

Ravenwatch and sexuality: It’s actually canon that House Ravenwatch has “naked parties”. I kid you not. Gwendis has dialogue during the quest where you crown the new King/Queen of Rivenspire; if you meet her upstairs in Shornhelm’s castle, she’ll say something like:“If this were a Ravenwatch party, none of these people would be wearing clothes”. Please note that this is a “missable conversation”;if you do not catch Gwendis before completing the crowning quest, you will never get to see her say it again.

Even if ZOS later decides to erase these lines, they can’t erase them from history because I have recordings of it :D In all honesty? I actually appreciated this little side note;I think it adds more complexity to their characters. Given their rules about consent regarding blood giving, their parties are probably fully consensual too.And there really isn’t anything wrong about adults having consensual parties. Besides, vampires have always been a little associated with sex and sexuality, so I don’t think it’s really that surprising.

Kalin’s comment is a reference to their parties. But he purposely worded it in a way that he knew Elyssa wouldn’t understand: with a reference to a Dunmer tavern-brothel. No, Ophelia doesn’t actually participate in their parties (having grown up in this place, I think it would be awkward for all people involved); instead she usually goes to visit relatives and comes back to help with the clean-up. That’s not gonna stop Kalin from teasing her anyways. Speaking of Kalin, I really think he didn’t need to be half-naked and lounging on their dining room table during their mealtime. Just saying: I feel like we were interrupting a little more than just “mealtime”.

Now, whether or not Verandis and his "children" have relations with each other when they keep referring to each other by familial names ("father", "sister") is a different story; the idea makes me uncomfortable. But I'm fairly certain Kalin (who is not "a family member") and mortal guests can get some action with the vampires.

In regards to the mortal servants: I’m sorry, ZOS. I don’t care how much magic is pumping through Tamriel’s veins; you will never convince me that two servants (Kalin and Estelle) can feed a household of five vampires once a night every night (even more than five vampires if you save the two people during the Rivenspire quests). Even with magical “produce more blood” potions, I felt the need to add at least two more mortals to the household…I hope readers don’t mind…

It did get me thinking: how does Verandis find these people? I doubt he just puts up an ad onto the Shornhelm bulletin board. Can you imagine? “Help wanted. Must have lots of blood and no aversion to pointy objects in your neck” (I’m kidding). Melina Cassel’s comments in her hireling mails implies that Verandis doesn’t force the servants to give blood as a part of their contract (she makes mention that Estelle giving blood goes “beyond the call of duty”). But there probably is a preference for those who aren’t averse to parting with a bit of their life force every now and then. In Kalin’s case, I’m like 99% convinced his half naked Dunmer self does it because he thinks it’s hot.

I actually had a mock up done of the Castle Ravenwatch basement/lower floor on the PTS using Daggerfall Overlook. I’m not sure if anyone would be interested enough in it for me to post a pic of it though. (yes, I know.  I saw the Ravenwatch Prologue and I don’t care)

I really hope ZOS comes up with a house crest for House Ravenwatch soon; otherwise I will have to make my own…

I know it may not seem like it from this chapter, but I actually have fallen madly in love with Fennorian. But it doesn’t technically appear during the Rivenspire questline, and I actually want Elyssa’s first time meeting him to be during her visit to Western Skyrim and doing something like the Bound in Blood quest.

The goat: It’s more of an inside joke I have with myself. When I was going through the Rivenspire questline for the first time, I noticed that there’s a goat that appears behind Ravenwatch Castle. At first, I thought it coincided the appearance and disappearance of Kalin. So I made a joke to myself that Kalin IS the goat. (Later I found out the goat’s appearance has nothing to do with whether or not Kalin the NPC is around. Still, I thought it would be funny to poke at that idea in the fic).

I have a problem with the Stormhaven storyline and this idea that you have to have this specific potion made with the Dream Shard just to avoid dreams. For the purposes of this story, I’m going to re-write that part so that the Dream Shard created potion is only to prevent Vaermina’s magic from interfering with your dreams specifically, and that there are likely plenty of other alchemy potions (sleep potions) that could prevent dreams (but not necessarily prevent Vaermina or her followers from affecting your sleep or giving you nightmares anyways). I just wanted to make that distinction.

While I wouldn’t doubt Vaermina might torment the Vestige in their sleep as a payback, I doubt the Daedric Prince would care enough to do it constantly (just the feeling that I got when I finished the Stormhaven questline was that Vaermina wasn’t too perturbed by being thwarted. Her “imprisoning” the Vestige in her realm was half-hearted as well; you could easily leave. Like she had much bigger fish to fry than you).

In regards to House Ravenwatch and sexuality again: I wanted to state more bluntly that No, I do not think the vampiric family members have sex with each other because they keep referring to each other as "brother" and "sister" (and to Verandis as "father") in canon. Yes, I know they're probably not ACTUALLY related to each other, but still. Instead, I think they have rampant naked parties with fully willing fully adult mortal participants. Let's be honest: there's got to be at least as many mortals in Tamriel who think vampires are hot as there are people in our world that think vampires are hot...Also. You know. Kalin. Half naked. On the table. Just saying.

PLEASE NOTE: Elyssa Arboretum is NOT the actual name of my character. I changed her last name for this story because...well....I'm a little shy. If you ever meet someone in game that has a name similar but not exact, it MIGHT be me. I usually like being on my own, as social situations can cause me great stress (especially if they're strangers). I am so sorry, and I greatly appreciate your understanding...

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She was staring at a wall.

….

…….

To be fair, it was a very nice wall.

…

….

….Although it did take her more than a moment’s time to realize she was staring at it sideways.

…

…And even longer to realize that she was staring at it sideways because she was lying down.

Groaning out of partial frustration, Elyssa heaved herself into a sitting position.

A soft bed and warm blankets were there to greet her, and they were inviting enough that she was sorely tempted to just go back to sleep.

But the longer she sat there, the faster the memories of the previous days nagged at her:

High Rock.

Blood fiends.

A plot to conquer the entirety of Rivenspire by a grieving and spiteful Breton noble.

The usual.

….

……She had to know what time it was.

Covers flung wide, she jumped out of bed.  Or tripped, rather; a creak in her back found her eagerness a bit disagreeable.   And it took a bit rubbing out her muscles to get her poor back to stand up straight.

But she hurried to make her way downstairs, whether her sore back liked it or not, when she heard the echoes of a conversation.

Gwendis and Melina were both there in the main hall.  Gwendis was literally lounging on top of her coffin, her arm lazily hanging over her eyes as if she meant to sleep like that.

Melina was at the table, toying with an array of colorful runestones.

“Good morning, Elyssa,” Melina cheerfully greeted her as she approached.

“Morning, Melina.  Morning Gwendis.”

Gwendis only gave a grunt in response.

Elyssa took a spot next to Melina, watching her as she carefully examined one rune at a time before placing them into different, colorful piles.

“Did you sleep well?”  Melina asked, frowning and squinting closer to her own hand when she noticed the rune she held had its surface defaced.

“Better than well.  I think this was the best sleep I’ve had since…it’s got to have been weeks...I feel fantastic…”

Melina chuckled a little.  “Well if you get such wonderful sleep in our home, perhaps you should stay with us then!  At least, for a while.  We get so few guests; I find it a little exciting to have someone new with us.  And, provided you’re still interested, I’d love the opportunity to show you a few basic enchanting techniques.  You know…when all this…ah, bloodfiend business is over.”

Elyssa perked up with a grin.  “I think I’d really like that.  And maybe you could take a look at that book I got, the one I told you about?  It really doesn’t make a lick of sense to me, and it would be great if someone could translate it into something more ‘beginner level’.”

“Oh of course, dear. I’ll certainly give it a try when we’re all a little less pre-occupied…”

“Wake me up when the world’s ending,” Gwendis moaned, still lounging on her perch.

“Is she all right?” Elyssa asked, leaning towards Melina.

“Oh she’s fine.  Just cranky after scouting out half of Rivenspire for Adusa.  She’ll be better after she gets some rest….”

Melina’s eyes narrowed at Gwendis.  “She’d feel even better if she actually bothered to go inside her coffin instead of sleeping on the hard stone lid...”

“That requires getting up…” Gwendis complained.

Melina gave a sigh, then went back to her rune sorting.

But Elyssa continued to stare at Gwendis, lost in thought.

“Do vampires dream?”  She asked, absentmindedly.

“Of course we do,” Melina replied. “My favorite dreams involve handsome men, coming to sweep me off my feet and take me far away to their extravagant and elaborate castle where we watch the stars and raise our nineteen adopted children together…”

“Which, for Melina, is nineteen too many,” Gwendis chimed in with a chuckle.

“Oh hush you.  If you’re too tired to lift a coffin lid than you’re too tired to make fun of my fantasies.”

“Do you really want nineteen children?”  Elyssa asked.

“Well…” She started with a bit of a grimace, “Maybe not quite THAT many….But I do want at least a child or two.  I adore children, they can be so sweet sometimes…”

She stared with melancholy as she traced the face of a beautiful rune.

“Never making assumptions….never judging you…”  She continued, solemnly.

“Breaking all the furniture in the house,” Gwendis remarked with a more lighthearted air.

“I suppose they can also be quite destructive too,” Melina gave out a little laugh.  “But what about you, Elyssa?  Have you ever thought about children?”

Elyssa made a face. “I think my horse is enough of a handful…”

She straightened up in a panic when she remembered her horse.

“Wait, my horse!  I put her around back in that shed place like Ophelia told me to, but I forgot to ask: was that really okay?  What if the bloodfiends got to her?  Should I go check on her?”

Melina patted her hand reassuringly just as she stood.

“Don’t fret there, dear.  The bloodfiends tend to lean away from anything that doesn’t smell like food, and our scent is all over these grounds.  It wards the little monsters away from our beautiful castle.”

Elyssa sat back down out of relief.

“Besides,” Melina added, “Our beloved little goat would have been eaten a long time ago if it were otherwise.”

“That goat!” Elyssa groaned. “I mean, speaking of kids and destruction: your goat wouldn’t stop headbutting me as I was trying to take off my horse’s tack, and I was very nearly tempted to kick him straight into your lake.  How do you get him to stop?”

“Elyssa!”  Melina chastised with a cluck. “That’s no way to treat Kalin.”

“Yes but—“ Elyssa cut off as those words wormed their way into her head.  “Wha….”

She turned to Melina, face contorted in a mixture of utter confusion with a touch of horror.  “What?  But I thought Kalin was the name of your…”

“Our resident Weregoat, yes.”

“Your resident… what?”

“Were.  Goat.” Melina said with precise articulation.

Elyssa stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head.  “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Me?” Melina asked, offended and with her hand firmly at her heart.  “Why I’d never!”

That did nothing to convince Elyssa.

“Gwendis…” Elyssa sighed, turning to the lounging vampire.  “Is there such thing as Weregoats?“

Gwendis lazily lifted her arm to give her a side eye.  “I mean, I think you should really focus on apologizing to Kalin for thinking about throwing him into the lake…Ya got some priorities you need to sort here…”

Elyssa flushed in embarrassment.  She’d never heard of a weregoat before.  But then, she’d never heard of friendly vampires until just yesterday.  And someone did tell her once that werebears were an actual thing…

“All…All right…” Elyssa said, slowly.  Not quite fully prepared to believe.  “Then when do weregoats transform?”

“Why, none other than the evening of every second Morndas of the month.  Which, I believe, was yesterday.  Is that not correct, Gwendis?”

“Yeee-ep.”  Gwendis replied, lazily letting the word hang in the air.

“Okay,” Elyssa said, a little less confident in herself.  “But why a goat, of all things?”

“Please,” Melina said, “Do I look like Hircine? For all we know, the Daedric Prince of the Hunt punishes those who scorn him with this…awful curse.  Such poor people might be used as fodder in the Prince’s hunting games.  All the more reason why he needs to stay, safe and sound, with us.”

Elyssa gave Melina a critical eye.  The vampire had been a bit overdramatic in the way she’d said “awful curse”, but otherwise it seemed she was serious.

Gwendis, likewise, seemed fairly serious too, even as she kept lounging on her coffin lid.  

Elyssa sighed, defeated.

“I guess I really should apologize to Kalin for getting irritated with him…”

“If you still don’t believe us, you can check out his tail,” Gwendis chipped in, “Ask if he’ll drop his pants and show you his hindquarters.”

Elyssa flushed red, and was about to reply that she would not, under any circumstances, ask to see the Dunmer’s posterior.

But a strangled noise brought her attention back to Melina, and her eyes narrowed in as the lady vampire struggled to keep a straight face.

“You…” Elyssa accused.  “You both are pulling my leg after all!”

Melina released the laughter she had apparently been holding in, and Gwendis was happy to chuckle alongside her.

“Come on, Mel,” Gwendis accused, “We had something here.”

The other’s laughter died down to a grin.

“Oh but Gwendis, I think you went a little too far with that one.  If she honestly asked Kalin to bare himself…you know how he gets…He’d probably acquiesce.”

“But that was the best part about it.” Gwendis grinned back.

“Well I don’t think it’s very nice,” Elyssa grumbled.

“Come on.” Gwendis said “We’re just teasing ya a bit.  A little hazing just to check if you’re good with our House and all.”

“Besides,” Melina added.  “It was positively adorable that you were willing to believe in weregoats.”

“Yeah.  I’m just so gullible aren’t I?”  Elyssa replied bitterly, remembering what the Count had told her last night about being a little too trusting of people.

“Come now, dear.” Melina said, patting her hand.  “We’re sorry.  Truly.  And how about I put my money where my mouth is and give you extra runestones for your next shipment as a little apology gift?”

“I guess…”  She replied, trying to refrain from any signs that free stuff had indeed perked up her mood just slightly.  

She found out she didn’t need to put much effort into that; the Count himself emerged from his study to interrupt.

“Good morning, Elyssa.  May I have a word with you?”  The statement was short, sweet, and a bit curt. Although that could have just been his High Elven accent.

“Do something naughty while we were gone, did ya?” Gwendis grinned at her just as Elyssa got up to join him.

“Wha—No!  Of course not!”

Gwendis’ chuckle seemed to almost follow her as she joined Verandis by the bookshelves.  This time, he forewent a book in favor of leaning against the shelves, his arms crossed while he regarded her carefully.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock.”  She stretched out her back a little with a wince. “I even woke up feeling a little like a rock.”

“Probably because you spent the better part of the night sleeping on my floor.  If I hadn’t decided to venture upstairs to dabble with a little more alchemy, you’d have woken up there too.  Why didn’t you drink the potion while you were in bed?”

“I did!” Elyssa cheerfully replied, holding a finger up, “But then I thought it would be a good idea to fetch a little more wine to wash it down.”

His eyebrows rose as he gave her a pointed look

“I mean,” Elyssa continued, her hands dropping to her side again, “At the time it seemed like a good idea.  Obviously it’s not such a good idea after the fact.”

The Count stared at her critically for a good while before he closed his eyes with a sigh.  When he re-opened them, he was back to contemplative again.

“You’re lucky you suffered no serious injuries; you could have easily gained yourself a concussion.  It seems the Divines do more than simply gift you powerful light magic: it appears they’re also the only things that are keeping you alive.”

“Hey!”

“Which brings me to the reason I called you here.  I took the liberty of making a full batch of sleeping draught for you.  The bottles are on a tray upstairs labeled with their purpose and your name.”

“Really?”  Elyssa’s face lit up; the potential to actually get decent sleep was literally being handed to her.  “Thank you so much! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.  This stuff is fantastic; I didn’t dream at all after drinking it.”

“Which is something I need to warn you of.  As you’ve discovered for yourself, the draught places you in a very deep sleep.  Too deep to dream…and most certainly too deep to be easily roused.  If someone were to grab you or hurt you, you will likely not awaken.  Make sure to never take a dose unless you are absolutely certain of your safety.”

She was much less enthusiastic about this caveat; inn rooms were expensive, and camping was often inevitable for a lot of places.

“So…I probably shouldn’t drink any if it’s just me and my sleeping roll out in the open...”

“I would severely recommend against that.  Instead, if you absolutely cannot sleep and cannot find a safe haven, take a quarter dosage.  It will not rid you of your dreams, but it will help keep you from a restless night without sacrificing your ability to respond to potential threats.”

She gave him a wry smile.  “Aaaaand let me guess; I’ll have to come back to you every time I run out, won’t I?  Should I start looking for a house in Rivenspire?”

He waved the questions away.  “No need.  I’ve written down the recipe for you.   Even if you do not feel comfortable brewing it yourself, you need only take the instructions to any community’s resident alchemist.  It’s straightforward enough that any one of them should be able to provide it for you.”

She nodded and mimicked his stance to recline against the bookshelves, albeit from the opposite end.   Silence hung in the air, and he was still regarding her carefully.

“…That’s not all you called me here for.  Is it?”  Elyssa finally spoke up.

“No, it’s not.”  Verandis sighed.  She could tell from his very tone he was contemplating his words carefully. “Elyssa…have you considered spending time in Wayrest for a while?  There’s a flower festival that happens every year around this time, I believe.  I can only vouch for what I’ve seen from afar, but it’s does seem a rather popular event…”

She stared at him incredulously.  “We’re in the middle of a situation where bloodfiends and vampires are trying to take over the entire province…”

“Indeed.  And we have more than enough people here to handle it.”

She winced back as if he had struck her.  ‘We don’t need you’ was the unspoken implication.  

“Oh?  Am I a burden to you now?” She spat back bitterly.

“Child—“

“So what that I’m young?  That I have nightmares, and that you found out about them. Now I’m suddenly too pathetic to be of any use to you, is that right?”

“Listen to me—“

“No, you listen to me!  What was all that stuff you told me last night?  How it was okay to have weaknesses?  I’m grateful you gave me potions to help with my sleep, but I’m not worthless just because I need them!  And you!”

She pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You have no right to order me out of Rivenspire like this!  You aren’t my parent.  You aren’t my Emperor.  You’re not even the King of Rivenspire.”

She could tell, from the way his face perceptively changed, that the last statement hit a mark.  But she was too angry to care.

“No.  I’m going to stay right here. I’m going to help defeat Baron Montclair.  I’m gonna fight a whole bunch of bloodfiends to reach him…” She stared him down, fists clenched at her side, “And there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

He stared back at her, calmly watching for an indication that she was finished.

“Elyssa…”  When he finally spoke, it was soft, slow, and soothing. “I do not believe I ever said you were worthless or pathetic.”

“And yet you’re ordering me to go off prancing at a flower festival.”

“I’m not ordering you to do anything, child.  I’m merely making a suggestion.  A suggestion based on what I’ve seen and what you’ve told me…You need a moment to relax and recover.  One cannot keep shouldering so many burdens without cracking underneath their pressures.”

“But I’m also needed here.  Back at Shornhelm, you said I had powerful light magic.  Better than most.”  She reminded him.   “And that I could be a great help in all this, since we’re fighting people whose very skin cracks under the light…”

“And, to an extent, I stand by those words.  Light magic is notoriously tricky to learn compared to the other elements, and yet it seems to come to you as easily as breathing does.  This is unheard of, particularly for someone at your age.  There are those who would even go so far as to call you a prodigy, myself included.”

The unexpected praise took a little of the edge off her rage.

“But you’re still inexperienced, and it’s painfully obvious you have not had any formal training in combat; your footwork is sloppy and you leave far too many openings for your opponent to take advantage of.  This might not be particularly risky when dealing with mindl0ess bloodfiends, creatures which have very little ability to strategize.  But the full-fledged vampires in Montclair’s army won’t hesitate to use that against you.  Furthermore, why aren’t you using a staff?”

She straightened up with pride.  “Swords are cool.”

He paused as if this was not the answer he was expecting.

“A staff would make a tremendous improvement on your magicka flow.”  He continued on with the same tone of voice.  He had, apparently, elected to ignore her statement. “You might even see an additional threefold improvement in the manifestation of your abilities.”

“But it would leave me wide open.  Greatswords help me guard against blows…”

“And so can staves…”

He walked over to retrieve his own firestaff that had been waiting in the corner for him.  Holding it out for her to look at, he gestured to its components.

“A typical battlestaff is made with combat in mind, and part of that involves the possibility that you will need to block a blow if your opponent finds a way to come within reach.  You can see here how my own weapon has its wood reinforced with a layer of metal.  Furthermore, are the multiple runes embedded into its spine…”

His finger traced over the weapon.  As if in response to its owner’s command, several symbols glowed across the length of it, brightly shining for a brief moment before settling back to normal.

“These, too, are designed with its protection in mind.  And with the mind of maintaining consistent magicka flow.  A staff that can no longer provide a steady resonation with its owner’s power is not only useless, but dangerous.  Such a weapon risks a catastrophic explosion if the user was not careful; thus, the important of the runes.  And as for its bladed tip…”

He gestured to the very top of the staff, in which the blade has been sharpened to fine edge.

“It is not unusual for many staff artisans to include a bladed tip in their work.  It does nothing to impair the staff’s traditional function and offers the advantage to utilize it as a make-shift spear, should the need require it.”

He set the staff aside back in its designated corner.

“Staves may not be as….”  He gave her an indulgent smile “…flashy as some other weapons, but they are nonetheless perfectly viable, and adaptable to changing situations on the battlefield.”

Elyssa grumbled, unimpressed.  “First you order me out of the region, now you’re ordering me to change my weapon—“

“Just another suggestion, Elyssa.  A suggestion,” The Count interrupted with wry smile.  He went to return to his books once again.

“As you say, Father.”  She mockingly shot back.  She waited for a moment to see if he’d react to that, if only just a little bit. But her frustration grew a tad when it was clear he was utterly unfazed by the title, continuing on in his books without so much as a raised eyebrow.

She grumbled again, and turned to leave the library.

“And please do not forget to eat before you leave, my daughter.” He called after her.

She froze in the doorway, and took a moment to glance back at him; her face full of surprise.

His reading was as focused as it always was, but he did pause to look up when he noticed her watching.

“Something wrong?”  He asked, and the very end of his mouth seemed to twist ever so slightly in a smile that almost looked….devious.

“N-no…” She replied shakily, the surprise lining her face beginning to tinge just slightly with mortification.

She thought the damned vampire elf would be too serious to give much of a reaction, let alone throw her comment back in her face.

“Then by all means: do try to make me proud out there.” He turned the page and returned to his books, still with that damnable little smile.

“I---“ Elyssa closed her mouth almost as soon as she’d opened it, before she said anything she might later come to regret, and decided it was far better to just turn around and walk away.

She could hear Gwendis’ muffled, gentle laughter beside her as she passed the coffins, and it only made her more determined to try and keep the red from her face from showing; it was likely most of the vampiric members of the household had overheard.

Melina, too, seemed to struggle with her own smile as Elyssa passed her.

“Oh,” Melina said. “I believe Ophelia made some honey bread this morning, if that pleases you, dear sister.”

“Shut up.”  Elyssa muttered back, and made haste for the guest room before either of them could comment further.

She ignored the tray of alchemy bottles that had been set aside for her on the table, deciding she could figure out the logistics of safely storing them in her pack later.  Once safely within the walls of her temporary bedroom, she made a beeline for her gear.

She was quickly getting used to putting it on; the intricacies that went into the chainmail underside and the straps that accompanied the plate outer layer did not seem to trouble her as much as it did weeks ago.

Her feet brought her to stand in front of the mirror, admiring her work.   She looked almost like a real soldier.

Honorary member of the Lion Guard, Elyssa Arboretum.  

The memory of the guard announcing this while offering the suit of tailored armor played in her head.  It was to be expected: in spite of all the things she had (somehow) managed to accomplish, she wasn’t actually a soldier.  She had no training in their regiment…nor was she even technically a citizen of High Rock.  

‘You’re footwork is sloppy and you leave too many openings’

‘It seems the Divines do more than simply gift you powerful light magic: it appears they’re also the only things that are keeping you alive’

These new words began to rotate in her head, churning into doubts.

Most of her opponents, thus far, had either been werewolves overcome by their animalistic desires, nature corrupting spirits, mindless zombies, or clumsy bandits and disorganized cultist members…None of them had combat styles that could be comparable to word “finesse”.  So her usual method of brute forcing her way with powerful spears of light magic before swinging her greatsword around in a haphazard manner had always worked out.  Tactics, strategy, and footwork were never things she ever thought about on a regular basis.

Even with Angof the Gravesinger...he almost seemed like the more she fought with him, the more he just…gave up. As if his motivation to defeat her was shriveling away like the very vines he failed to grow.  Most of his necromantic abilities didn’t stand a chance against the element of light; she barely even needed to concentrate to sweep the floor clear of his zombies.  They faded to dust almost as soon as she touched them with even the dimmest glow of her power.  And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that she had plenty of help at her side at the time…

….

...What if she’d just been lucky so far in her opponents?

That all of her “deeds” were nothing more than the culmination of her brute forcing her own “prodigy-like” magic and having the “Gods’ luck” on her side?

…..

….Was she actually making a difference?

She struck a pose in the mirror, hoping to look impressive decked out in her armor…but her rounded cheeks and short stature did nothing to wipe away the traditional, youthful appearance of a Breton.

Why couldn’t she have inherited at least a little of her Imperial father’s more chiseled features?

She stuck her tongue out at herself, and was greeted with an even more childish sight as a result.  Fully frustrated, she grabbed her pack and stuck a few of her things in it.

She frowned at the alchemy bottles; it was times like these that she wished she had a bigger protective bottle case in her pack.  She was grateful that he made her so much, but there was just a few too many to fit.

And she was hungry.

…She huffed, and decided she’d have to figure out the problem of the bottles later.

As she made her way downstairs, she caught sight of Gwendis and Melina chatting at the dining table; Gwendis finally appeared to have made it off her coffin.  Elyssa was almost tempted to throw a teasing comment at her for that.

Further downstairs was the basement level.

She’d been told it was always kept locked, mostly so that the household (both vampire and servant) could have a place of privacy away from any visiting guests.  The main kitchen was down there, however, and so she found herself knocking at the basement door.

“Why good morning to you, Elyssa!”  The cheerful face of an older, gray haired Imperial woman greeted her.

“Good morning, Ophelia.  Melina told me you have some honey bread all made up?”

“I do.  I do indeed; my lady must have smelled it from the hall.  Come in, sweetie, and I’ll cut you a few slices.”

The basement of Ravenwatch castle was, perhaps, even more homely than its main hall.  Reminiscent of the guest suite, there were no gargoyle statues or eclectic furnishings (save for the two coffins in the center of the room, one of which had to be Melina’s).  A roaring fireplace lit up the place brighter than the other rooms, perhaps for the benefit of the servants as they had their own separate room nearby.

Workstations filled with alchemy ingredients and enchanting components lined the walls.  A mysterious door to an even deeper cellar was in the far corner (she was told it was strictly forbidden to anyone not of the House; and that only made her slightly more curious about it).  Finally, there was a full kitchen to the side; much nicer than the kitchenette of the upstairs guest suite.

Ophelia wasn’t the only servant awake; the others were out and about as well.

The Breton, Estelle, was by the fire, working on some sort of sewing.  She was the only one Elyssa hadn’t formally met; they told her she was of a skittish disposition, particularly around strangers.  From what was mentioned, the Count had found and rescued her from bandits who had badly abused her.  Until she got used to a new person, it was advised for that individual to leave her alone unless absolutely necessary.

Anise, a Bosmer, was at the nearby dining table, a table that was a much smaller twin to the grander one of the main hall.  She….definitely looked like she was still asleep, her small head propped up by her arms at the table.  Narcolepsy was something Ophelia had mentioned; apparently Anise had trouble finding someone to hire her in a ‘traditional’ job because of her condition.  But the household wasn’t perturbed by the idea of narcolepsy, and had hired her practically on the spot the moment she revealed she was perfectly comfortable with the idea of serving vampires.

Ophelia herself was busy cutting an impressively large portion of an equally impressively large loaf of sweet smelling bread.  Elyssa recalled that when she had previously asked what the Imperial thought about living here, the older woman had merely scoffed.  For Ophelia, it was just tradition; her family had served House Ravenwatch for a handful of generations.  She had literally grown up in the castle.  So, naturally, she was quite fine with it all.  

Kalin, one of the ones Elyssa had spoken to the most (but ironically knew the least about), was lounging about at the wall near the kitchen, eyeing her carefully.  The only information she had on the Dunmer was that he was the oldest and longest serving of all the mortals who stayed there.

“So our guest yet lives…”  He said, that slow sardonic drawl of his hanging in the air. “Do tell; how does it feel knowing you survived a night in a vampire’s stronghold?”

“Got better sleep here than in most inn rooms.” She responded, grinning. “You all seem to get along really well with each other.”

He laughed.  “Indeed….we’re quite….close with each other…”

“Kalin,” Ophelia warned.

“Some of us ….closer…than others.”

“Kalin.”

“You might even say it’s a regular Ebony Flask around here--”

Ophelia banged her knife down flat with a loud clunk, staring him down with a none-too pleased grimace.

“What’s an Ebony Flask?” Elyssa asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Now you see?  She’s only going to start asking more questions…” Ophelia said.

“What…Is it something bad?”

“Not at all…” Kalin continued, an exceptionally wolfish grin lining his face. “Ophelia is only upset because sometimes even she—“

“That’s it!”  Ophelia pointed her knife at him from afar. “You. Out of my kitchen!”

“My work here is done…” Kalin stated in monotone, impish grin still on his lips as he strolled out the basement doors.

He held it open for Gwendis, who had found her way downstairs.

“Gwendis!”  Elyssa approached her “Kalin said it’s like a regular Ebony Flask around here; what does that mean?”

Whatever emotion Gwendis’ face had before vanished as she stared off into the distance with pursed lips.  She took a deep breath through her nose…

….Then turned and walked right back through the basement doors again.

“Wha-Gwendis?!”

“Never you mind that, sweetie.”  Ophelia interjected with an almost strangled voice.  “Why don’t you come and have some breakfast?  I made you some eggs and bacon too; I think you could use the protein, going out to fight as you do.  Might even put a little meat on those bones.”

Melina was next to come through the doors, clutching her satchel of runes and yawning all the while. And Elyssa immediately abandoned her breakfast plate to jump on the opportunity.

“Melina!  Kalin talked about an ‘Ebony Flask’.  What does he mean by that?”

Melina paused mid yawn, a curious expression forming on her face.

“Oh Elyssa…” She sighed.  “I’m afraid I’m much too tired to have this conversation.  We can have this talk after I’ve taken my rest…”

“My lady, I must protest!” Ophelia exclaimed.

Melina gained a rather mischievous smile at Ophelia’s outburst. “Very well.  We can have this talk after I’ve taken my rest AND after Ophelia has gone to bed.”

“My lady, please.”

Elyssa grinned as Melina gave her a little wink.  Seeing that, Ophelia’s protestations started to die down into more of a sputter.

“Herding cats around here…” Elyssa could hear Ophelia mutter under her breath as the older woman re-doubled her cleaning efforts. “Some days, I swear…”

But Elyssa was far more interested in what Melina was doing: heading towards one of the stone coffins in the main area of the room.  

Melina caught sight of her following close behind.

“Curious, are we?” She asked with a slightly amused smile.

“I just want to see what’s in it.” Elyssa beamed back at her.

“What might you think is in it?” Melina cocked her head slightly.

“I…”  Elyssa tried to think of all the vampire stories she knew.  Which wasn’t very helpful. She knew they supposedly slept in coffins, but she never really heard any stories about what they slept with. “…Jewels?”

The lady vampire laughed. “I’m not a dragon!”

The coffin lid scraped across its base as she moved it, revealing a cushioned lining, a small horde of pillows and a patterned blanket.  Though the outside was drab stone, the inside looked…rather homey.  For a coffin.

“Not quite what you were hoping for?” Melina asked, as it seemed she noticed her dismay.  

“I don’t know.”  Elyssa frowned.  “Why not just sleep in a bed then?”

The vampire bit at her lower lip in contemplation.

“Well…I can’t speak for the others…But in my case…”  She shifted uncomfortably.  “I--the first days of my new life were spent constantly under threat from the sun, even when I tried to sleep….especially when I tried to sleep.  I developed a bit of a phobia for it.  And after a while, I just started to feel…more at ease in places that were dark and enclosed.”

She fondly traced the edges of the lid.  “Sleeping in a box of some sort is the easiest way to accomplish that.  But they don’t usually make human shaped cargo boxes...And asking for one would likely raise too many questions…But coffins…”

The vampire waved towards her open resting place.

“...Coffins are requested all the time.  Even coffins ordered to your exact specifications; no one ever bats an eye over measurements…It’s a convenience, really.”

“So…you could sleep in a bed if you wanted to?”

“The bed itself certainly wouldn’t kill us.  But….our reactions aren’t always fast when we’re groggy and it’s the middle of the day, so if someone were to open the drapes on any of us while we lay exposed and slumbering…”

“But all of the windows here are glazed over; I could open all the drapes in the castle and the sun still wouldn’t touch you…And I mean…there can’t be that many people who would do something that horrible to you in the first place…”

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Elyssa.”  Melina smiled kindly.  “It isn’t true, and I think you know that, but it’s very sweet of you to say nonetheless.  There are plenty of people out there who wouldn’t hesitate…so…Just…think of the coffin in the same way you’d think of a stuffed toy that a child would cling to; it brings me comfort and assurance to know the sun can’t touch me so long as I’m inside.”

“I’m guessing you’re going to sleep now?”   Elyssa watched as Melina kicked off her shoes and settled down among the bright interior of her coffin.

“Mmmm…Indeed.  I just simply can’t keep my eyes open any longer…”  She sighed happily as she nuzzled one of her pillows.  “Won’t you be a dear and close my lid for me?”

“Wait…”  Elyssa gestured to the coffin opposite of hers.  “Before I do, I wanted to ask: there’s five coffins total, but I thought there was only four of you…”

“Oh…that one would belong to my dear, sweet brother…”  Melina lazily said, already with half lidded eyes. “You won’t likely meet him; he’s gone and locked himself in the cellar.  Out of abundance of caution, mostly.  He’s been having difficulties these days, and…oh, well, he’s such a sweetheart; he’d do anything to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone…”

“I see….” Elyssa said, suddenly solemn as she stared out towards the cellar hatch.  “I hope he feels better.”

“Indeed, as do I.  I so hate to think of him stuck down there, but it was his choice and my Lord approved…”

She let out another yawn.  “Ah…oh, excuse me.  I’m so sorry, Elyssa.  But I must really bid you a good day; I cannot possibly stay awake a moment longer.  Please promise you’ll stay safe.  I’ve already become a bit fond of you, and I would hate it terribly if you were injured….”

“I’ll promise I’ll try not to die.  Have a good night…erm…I mean day.  Have a good day, Melina.”

Melina gave her one last, sweet smile as Elyssa pushed close the lid.

…It was a lot heavier than anticipated.

She had to shove her shoulder against it just to get it shut.  The clunk of the stone finding the indentation on its base was louder than she’d thought it would be and caused her to jump.

Giving one last look towards the cellar hatch, as if expecting another vampire to appear any moment, Elyssa went back to the table.  Eggs, bacon, and honey bread were shoveled down as fast as she could manage.

~~~

She walked out of the basement a little too full; Ophelia had insisted on giving her a second helping of eggs and bacon, and had even tried for a third.  Given the sort of conversations that had accompanied breakfast, Elyssa had a nagging feeling that the older woman had been desperately trying to distract her from Ebony Flasks.  And, of course, that did nothing but make her more curious.  

Chances were, Ophelia would manage to talk Melina out of explaining it later.

So instead of heading towards the front door with her pack, she made a quick beeline for Gwendis, who had gone back to lounging atop her coffin.

“Psst….Gwendis?  Gwendis, what’s an Ebony Flask?”  She gave the vampire a few pokes in the arm that was covering her eyes.  The skin was oddly cold compared to a mortal’s.

…And the vampire didn’t budge.

“I know you know.  You had that look on your face when I asked about it before, so don’t think you can pretend otherwise.”

And the vampire still didn’t budge.

“Aww come on.  You can’t be asleep already.  And even if you were, there’s a tasty mortal inches from your face nudging you with her fingers.  If that doesn’t wake up a vampire, I don’t know what would.  So what’s an Ebony Flask?  Is it a type of skooma?  Do you all get together to use skooma?  I won’t judge; I promise.”

She could see Gwendis’ lips twitching against her pale face, but otherwise she continued to remain still.

Elyssa huffed.  “Fine.  Be that way.  I give up.  Have a good nigh—day.  Day!  Ugh.  Whatever.”

She passed by Verandis’ study on her way out.  He was still in there, working away at his books, as usual.  Elyssa was partly tempted to go in and ask him about Ebony Flasks and what that had to do with House Ravenwatch.

But she was still too irritated at him to even make the attempt, and that pushed all other thoughts away; so much so that she simply headed outside without so much as a ‘goodbye’ to him.

The bright sun greeted her as soon as she pushed open the heavy oak doors. She stopped to stretch out as she basked in the warmth.

“Hey don’t forget…” Gwendis’ voice came echoing through the halls behind her, proving that she hadn’t been asleep after all, “…Watch out for the weregoats out there.”

Elyssa’s irritation was matched only by the intensity of how hard she slammed their front door shut.

“I hate you all.” She muttered under her breath.  Not that she completely meant it.  

But her irritation only grew further as she noticed a bloodfiend at the edge of town, happily gorging itself on a dead citizen.  

…

……It was like breathing; such an apt description that Verandis had given her earlier that it became hard for her to think of it otherwise.

Warmth filled the tips of her fingers, a growing sensation that shifted through her palm like a liquid.

Coalescing.  Expanding.  An extension of her arm, of her will.  She often found she only needed to hold the image of a spear in her mind for it to form.  And with two steps taken, her momentum helped to send the whole thing forward, hurling through the air.

What was only mere moments resulted in a motionless bloodfiend, a bright spear of solid-like light skewered into its chest.

Unfortunately, it seemed she attracted some attention; another figure lurking in the shadows manifested itself right next to the dead bloodfiend.  She readied herself another spear….

…Only to then dissipate the light in her hands when she realized the second figure had cat ears.

And she winced when a rather irate Adusa-daro came towards her.

“H-Hi…Adusa….”  She nervously greeted.

“Adusa would appreciate…” The Khajiit began with a glower.  “…If the young one would please stop throwing such powerful holy magic so close to this one’s fur…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!  I just didn’t see you there when you’re dressed in all black like that!”

“Yes yes; this is exactly the sort of thing Adusa is worried about…”  Adusa grumbled, but she didn’t actually seem too upset at her.

Then again, it was difficult to tell; the Khajiit’s black and flowing cloak was surely thick enough to ensure no sunlight ever peaked through, and most definitely dark enough to obscure any body language.  It looked to be made of the same fine material as the one she’d seen Verandis wear the other day, and she was sure that, like Verandis’, it held a dark grey outline of their house crest on the back as well.

…Although Verandis’ cloak didn’t exactly have cat ear protrusions on the hood; that would have been a definite improvement. (She made a mental note to herself to tell him to get some cat ears on his cloak.  Since he was so eager to give her ‘suggestions’ before, he surely wouldn’t mind receiving ‘suggestions’ in return.).

Elyssa frowned as she attempted to figure out where among the bloodfiends the vampire had been lurking.  She only found more bloodfiends.

Which only made her frown more because…well….bloodfiends.

“How can you stand all this going on right outside your doorstep?  With these poor people like….like this…?”

She vigorously gestured towards a few of the creatures shambling close by.

“Patience, young one.  Tell this one; what is the most important thing we must focus on?”

“Killing Montclair?”

“Yes, good.  And what else?”

Elyssa strained herself to think: what else was there besides killing Montclair and dispatching bloodfiends?

“….Er…Killing Montclair…a second time…?”

Adusa groaned. “The living, Elyssa.  Living people are important, yes?  We must kill Montclair and make sure any living survivors are safe.  These are the two most important of all things that we must do.”

She could hear the khajiit grunt in disgust as she waved towards the bloodfiends.

“These….creatures.  They can wait until later…The dead will always be here later…The living?  Not so much.”

“Sorry; I guess I just took it for granted that we’d help the survivors.  I mean…why wouldn’t we?  But these bloodfiends here…they do still bother you…right?”  Elyssa asked in a quiet voice.

Adusa was in the process of taking down fabric around the face area, which suggested that the cloak, like typical Breton hoods, had a built in face mask.  

“We may not have always spoken much to the people here…” Adusa said. Pain on her face as cat-like eyes scanned over the town.  “But the ones of Crestshade…they were good people.  They do not deserve such a fate.  It is….very, very difficult to watch.  These townsfolk deserve to be put to rest, and not wander like filthy beasts.”

“Is there a chance that Montclair would use these ones for his army?”

The khajiit shook her head.

“Look at them, young one.  They are baking in the sun, and they do not even realize it hurts…Montclair would not win this war on the backs of freshly burnt carcasses falling to pieces.  No, the bloodfiends sent here were clearly only meant to coax the people out of their homes and scattered on the winds.  To turn to the curse any of those who could not make it out…less people he would have to cow to his would-be rule…”

Adusa’s fangs protruded as she softly snarled, her ears hunched back.  “…This one also thinks he may have been trying to mock us a little as well…Send bloodfiends to attack the town while we all were away as an insult to all of our efforts…”

Elyssa remained silent.

She didn’t know how to respond except to look out again amongst the bloodfiends stumbling across the ground…

Their bodies did seem like they were coming apart at the seams; many of them had sun wounds that burrowed straight through their skin, creating gaping holes that only hindered their movements more.

“We must rest and work and focus on the two most important things, Elyssa.  Never forget the priorities. And speaking of which: Adusa is glad to have caught you before you left.  She has need of you.  You will help, yes?”

“What needs to be done?”

“Adusa has been scouting to see how far Montclair’s army has taken its curse, how far it has spread.  They have taken over a small town called Moira’s Hope in the south.  This one could smell the blood of the living there...but there are also many, many bloodfiends as well.  She will need help to cut a path through…and perhaps help with the survivors as well; they are more likely to trust a fellow mortal than Adusa, and there may be need to get them out quickly…”

“Right! I’m with you; I just need to go and get Justice ready…”

“Justice?”  Adusa followed Elyssa around back to their stables.

“My horse.”

“…Is that not…How does one say?  ‘A little on the nose’?”

“Oh I didn’t name her that.  That was the name she came with.  If you can believe it, I got her for free from this cranky old Imperial man.”   Elyssa’s face screwed up as she recalled the memory. “All eight of his horses were white Imperial thoroughbreds, and ALL of them were named Justice….”

Adusa looked at her with incredulity.  “…Did he not have trouble telling them apart?”

“He was so angry; I was afraid to ask too many questions.” She flashed Adusa a nervous smile.

“Very generous, a whole horse….”

“I don’t think he could afford to take care of them all after he’d been displaced from the war.  And I think he was also looking to help other citizens of Cyrodiil, because he only offered her to me when he found out I was a fellow refugee…”

Her comment cut short and her muscles tensed up when she came face to face…with him.

He was hanging out, casually, by the awning of the stables, right next to Justice.

He lifted his head to watch her as she approached.

Her arch-nemesis.

The bane of her existence.

                                     The damned goat.

Her blue eyes narrowed in on him; her stance braced for impact.

He stared back, creepy little sideways pupils watching her as if to size her up.

She took a few sidesteps to the right, maintaining eye contact.

He mirrored her maneuver, his soft bleating filled with obvious faux innocence.

She stopped.

He stopped.

The irritating fiend was playing hardball.

Slowly, she inched her way towards her horse, eyes dead center on her foe in anticipation of the slightest mo—

“What...”  Adusa’s voice intervened, “…In the name of the blessed moons are you doing?”

“Your goat is pure ev—“

Only a moment; Elyssa had only looked away from her dreaded foe for a moment, and the beast, sensing weakness, lowered its horned head to charge.  Just barely was she able to escape the horror of it all by scrambling up the stable post with a yelp.

Adusa stood where she was, her arms crossed, and surveyed the scene with eyes aglow with amusement.

“Hibiscus must like you.  She does not usually react in such a manner with anyone else…”

“You call this liking?” Elyssa grimaced as she clung to the stable post and tried to shoo the goat away by waving one foot while trying to balance on the other.  “Look at the eyes, Adusa!  Those are the eyes of a bloodthirsty creature who has killed before…and will kill again!”  

“Speaking as one who knows bloodthirsty creatures, Adusa can assure that Hibby is both safe and does not consume blood,” Adusa began to make her way back around the castle.  “This one will see you at Moira’s Hope, then.”

“Wha-you’re leaving me??!”  Hibiscus the goat was already making the attempt to scale up the stable walls just to get to her enemy.

“Adusa has every confidence you can handle little Hibby.  If not, Hibby’s treat bag is at the right of yourself. Feed her no more than three whole apples; a fat Hibby would make Anise very concerned.”

And with a wave over her shoulder, the hooded Adusa was gone.

Elyssa turned to her adversary.

“So….You’re a girl goat, huh?  That’s quite a coincidence.  I happen to be a girl human.  We have so much in common; please stop trying to kill me.”

The horizontal goat pupils didn’t seem to falter, and she idly wondered if goats were carnivorous.

Her fingers strained as she tried to reach the treat bag, but she only ended up in an awkward, stretched out position with her torso still at the post and the weight of her upper half held up by her reaching fingers.  She looked at her horse, who was calmly grazing at a pile of hay.

“A little help?” She asked, not actually expecting her horse to respond.

Sure enough, the horse stared back at her, unfazed and ignorant of her situation, before dipping its head to take in another mouthful of hay.

“First Adusa, now you; the double betrayal hurts just a little bit.”  She said, purposefully overdramatic.  If only to make herself feel better about the whole situation.

The goat seemed to be getting impatient, as it begun to ram its horned head against the sides of the stable.  As if to try and knock her down.

“I have to wonder if you really are trying to kill me…” Elyssa winced as she made a solid lunge for an apple peeking out of the leather bag.   Another effortful motion and an apple was tossed as far away as she could manage.

It was a gift from the Gods that Hibby’s priorities involved eating first and everything else second; Elyssa was finally free to drop down.  Not necessarily in an elegant way, given her strained position; she ended up with a face full of hay, with her horse making the move to try and lick it off her face.

Straightened up with hay brushed off, she moved to get her horse’s tack on as quick as she possibly could before the demonic goat got back.  Part of which required giving a jealous Justice an apple of her own to get her to cooperate.

Her weapons and pack at the ready, she hoisted herself up atop her steed; just in time to watch a distraught Hibby cower from Justice’s mightier hooves.  Up high on a horse, she felt a bit more like a knight, regardless of whatever her image in the mirror had shown her before.

Ready to take on the world itself.

A click of the tongue and a flick of the reins, and she was well on her way.

Racing past the bloodfiends as the sun shone in the sky.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Final Author note: Bold of you to assume Verandis wouldn’t adopt your rebellious mortal ass, Elyssa.

[fahhhhq]

Similar but Worlds Apart: Part 5

Fandom: Narcos + Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Reader x Javier Peña // Reader x Jack Daniels a.k.a Agent Whiskey

WaRniGs: Sexy timeeeeee! Cursing. Smutty smut.  

Words: 3.8k

Summary: While on search for your partner, who also happens to be your love, your trip takes an odd turn when you come face-to-face with the twin of your partner. Twins that have no idea that the other one exists. And when feelings get involved, it’s up to you to choose, or not.

If you’re new here, start hereee: Part uno, Part kinda dos, Part tres, Part cuatro, 

You had officially been in Colombia for almost two weeks now; still searching for Jack and still developing unwanted feelings for Javier. After the night that you told Javier about what you were doing in Colombia, the topic hadn’t been brought up since then. You had had dinner almost every night. Sometimes it was too late, so you would leave food outside his apartment with a note saying what you had either bought him or made him food. He would slide a thank you note under your door every morning after you did that. And you would always see the note slide in from the other side with a smile and a hot coffee on your hand. It had become a “thing.”

That night he had promised that he would make it for dinner. You had told him that it wasn’t a big deal, that if he had stuff to do, then to do it, but he insisted that he would make it. You wanted to see him, too. Every time he missed dinner, or something came up on his day off, you waited anxiously until he was back. You were fucked.

There was a knock at your door and your stomach dropped.

You opened the door and there Javier was, leaning against the doorframe with a hand on his hip. His beautiful brown hair showing hints of caramel when the light hit it.

“Hey,” you say, not hiding the smile on your face. You open the door wider so that he can go inside, and he does, but his face is serious. “You OK?”

He sniffs the air, “You cooked?”

“Yeah!” You smile once more and go to the kitchen. You grab a glass of whiskey and bring it to him.

Javier gladly takes it and takes a sip, “Wow, that’s good.”

You take a sip yourself, the whiskey elegantly burning your throat, not leaving a fiery taste behind, just oaky and smooth. “It’s from where I live at the moment, Kentucky.”

“You mean, Statesman?” he’s serious when he speaks, putting emphasis on Statesman.

“Have I already given you some, or have you had this whiskey before?” you ask confused as for his attitude.

“I know,” Javier says and sits down on your couch then leans forward. “I had someone look you up at work.”

You’re confused, why would he do that. “Why did you do that? And what do you know…?”

“I know that you work here,” he motions to the glass of whiskey in his hand, “and that you're not who you say you are.”

He must had been talking about your fake background. That person, your fake self, worked for Statesmen yes, but as a receptionist, and that person was also a recent graduate of the University of Kentucky, was from California and had two dogs, and was hoping to be a veterinary one day, so definitely not you. You were a badass agent who worked for a spy agency who took down bad guys. You had been to college, but not in Kentucky, and you had a masters, in kicking ass. The veterinary job was your idea. You always wanted to help animals, cure them, but you never got the chance. So that was the alternative.

As Javier stares at you expectantly, you go sit down next to him. “I do work there. And no, I’m not from where it says in those papers, I’m from southern California I told you that.”

His brow’s burrow, “You keep lying to me.” He stands and finishes his whiskey, and it looks like he wants to leave, but he stays standing.

You stand and walk to him, stopping only inches from him, “I wasn’t lying to you, Javier, I do work for Statesmen, but I’m not a receptionist like it said in the folder that was probably given to you,” you walk over to the side table by the door and grab your gun from under some newspapers that were deliberate put on top of and you hold it up, “Would a receptionist carry a beauty like this?”

You hold up the gun, press the button to release the magazine, catch it, pull the slide, the bullet that was in the chamber pops up, you catch it swiftly, and stare at Javier with a smirk on your face, “I’m Agent Vino, baby.”

Javier’s eyebrows shot up, “I’m guessing there’s more where that came from.”

You smile wickedly, “You have no idea, I’m the best with a gun.” You put the gun on top of the coffee table and grab your cup. “I made dinner; can we continue this talk while we eat?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just walks to the kitchen table, which is now clean of your paperwork, and sits. You head to the kitchen and prepare two plates filled with two steaks, mashed potatoes, green beans and coleslaw. You set the plates in the table and ask Javier, “Do you want more whiskey or a beer?”

“Beer and the bottle,” he points to his empty glass. You go for the beers and bottle and you feel butterflies in your stomach. You had felt them the whole day, and now they were more sadistic.

Once you settle down, and begin to eat, you turn to Javier and begin to speak, “After all this time I thought you trusted me.”

He puts his fork down and takes a sip of his beer, “I work somewhere where I can’t trust anyone, Y/N,” he wipes his mouth, “I do trust you, but I just had to do it.”

You pop a piece of steak into your mouth and speak between bites, “Like really, you think I can pass for a tree-hugging receptionist?”

Javier smiles, his dimple showing, “Not really, you're a headcase.”

“Eh,” you shrug and pop another piece of steak into your mouth.

“So, you really are an agent for a spy agency?” he asks.

You get up and grab a badge from a drawer near the dinning table, “This is the only thing that I can show someone from the law that might be interfering in a dangerous mission. So, here,” you hand him the badge that has your agent number and the name of your agency, “You're part of the law, I can safely show you this.”

He looks it over, “This is real.”

You take it from him, “I never lied to you.”

“Fine, I believe you, sit down,” he looks at your chair then at you. You do as he say, and your stomach does a little summersault by the demand.

“Yes, sir,” you say. “Did you like dinner?”

He wipes his mouth, leans back and rubs his belly, his baby-blue shirt stretching from his stomach, “You can definitely cook a mean steak.”

“I know,” you wink and drink more whiskey, “so now that you know almost everything about me, what don’t I know about you?”

He rubs his chin, pouting, “I almost got married once.”

“oh, what happened?” you ask as you pour Javier more whiskey and hand the glass to him.

He takes it, “I realized that I wasn’t going to do good by her and left the morning of the wedding. I couldn’t imagine her sticking around anyways, she wanted to start a family and wanted to continue with my career.”

“Do you think you made a good decision?”

He looks at you, “Yes.”

You just nod and drink the two-fingers of whiskey left in your glass. “Well, in my opinion, I believe everything happens for a reason, so maybe you weren't supposed to marry her, or anyone else for that matter.”

“Wow…” he looks wounded.

You laugh and pick up the plates, “I don’t mean it in a bad way, you just seem like marriage is not for you.” You place the plates in the sink and go back to the dinning are, “You’ll be a hoe for the rest of your life.”

He chuckles, the crow’s feet around his eyes become more pronounced, and the indent of his dimples make him look like a little kid.

After you clean and head to the living room with a glass almost completely filled with whiskey, you turn on some “oldies” as their called and sit down next to Javier. You clink glasses with him and relax back into the couch

“So, do you have any leads on where your partner is?”

“No,” you look at him, trying to imagine that you're actually siting next to Jack. “I had gotten a lead two weeks ago.”

“When we met,” he states, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yes. I had gotten intel that he was seen here in Colombia, so I was sent here to look for him.”

“And I’m guessing you haven’t found him,” he says motioning to the empty apartment.

You look at him, wishing you could tell him that you did kind of find him, but you couldn’t. At least not in that moment, he wouldn’t believe you. “No, I haven’t found him, I’m at a dead end actually.”

“And what are you going to do?” he asks with what sounds like hope in his voice.

You sigh, so many things going through your mind. “Go back home.”

He nods and drinks the whiskey like it’s a shot, “When?”

You shrug, “I don’t know.” He hums, understanding your conundrum. But you decide that you don’t want to think and talk about this subject, because well, it makes you sad, “Let’s not talk about me leaving, what do you say we get drunk?”

You fill your glass and then his. He raises a brow and displays his dimple, “You think you can go head-to-head with me?”

“Oh, baby, I've been asked that so many times that at the end they wonder why they asked such a stupid question.”

“Salud pues,” he says and you clink glasses. After that sip, you feel a bit tipsy, and the butterflies don’t cease.

An hour later you guys were almost at the drunk mark. Brenton Wood was now playing a little louder and both of you were feeling the beat. You were in a muscle shirt, ripped jeans and barefoot, like a true southern Californian girl. He was in his baby-blue short-sleeve shirt, in his tight jeans and cowboy boots. All your insides were warm and dizzy with desire.

“Come on,” you grab Javier’s hand and pull it as you stand. “Let’s dance to Oogum Boogum.”

He pulls back, “I’m not huge on the dancing.”

You let go of his hand and cross the coffee table. You begin to sing along with Brenton Wood and dance, “Come on, I promise I won’t tell anyone that you don’t know how to dance.”

He begrudgingly stands and finishing his whiskey, “Fine, but just cause I’m drunk, and I really like Brenton Wood.”

Javier gets closer to you, his predatory walk only making you hotter and a bit sweaty. He sway’s his hips to the beat as he extends his hand towards you and you grab it. You lift your hands so he can twirl, and he does. Very clumsily, but he looks adorable. You both laugh and continue to dance, letting the stress of not being able to find Jack wash away, because in a sense, you were with him, right?

Gimmie a Little Sign starts to play and both of you begin to sing to it in unison, “Just gimmie me some kind of sign, girl, oh my baby, to show me that you're mine, girl, oh yeah!” He pulls you in and you crash against his chest. When the bridge of the song plays you grab his other hand and dance, pulling him towards you, too. Javier twirls you and then you twirl him, both of you laughing and enjoying your buzz.

When that song ends, I Like the Way You Love Me begins to play. The tempo slows down and you both your laughter’s subsided. You lean into him and begin to slowly sway. You lean your head against his and just wave from side to side. His right hand placed on your lower back, cradling you, holding you like if he doesn’t want to let go. You inhale his scent, making you dizzier and wetter. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhales and chills run all over your body.

Then he begins to softly sing, you feel his voice reverberate against your chest as he sings in your ear:            “And I like the way you thrill me, oh, girl,            Well, you thrill me to my soul,            And I like, I like it all so,            And I tell myself that deep inside,            I could never let you go.”

You pull back and look at him. When your eyes meet, your breath becomes a bit faster and harder. And something sparks between the two of you, some deep understanding that doesn’t require words. You both lean in at the same time. Your mouths colliding into each other, and all the desire that you had been harboring for the past two weeks took control over all of your senses. He pushes you against the wall using his body. You collapse with a thump and all you can feel is his hands and mouth all over you.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you,” Javier’s voice is lower, huskier, sexier.

You kiss him again, harder, “Me too,” you say panting. His mouth crashes into yours again and as he pushes you harder into the wall, his hands go down you back, past your ass, stopping and lifting you up, all while not removing his lips from yours.

Javier carries you to your room and puts you on your bed, you stand in front of him and keeping eye-contact, you lift your muscle shirt over your head, unbuckle your jeans and let them slide down your legs. You step out of them and look at him eagerly, “I showed you mine, now show me yours.”

His crocket smile makes you whimper, “Yeah? And then what?” he asks and then begins to take off his shirt. Your eyes skim his body, already noticing that he’s as excited as you are.

You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall down to the floor, then your panties follow, “And then you’re gonna fuck me like its our last day on earth.”

“Fuck me…” he breaths when his eyes roam your body, making you shiver. You don’t even feel self-conscious about your tummy and your thunder-thighs because you know that you're a fucking badass who can have a gut and still kick some serious ass.

When you see that he was commando, you weren't surprised, Jack always went commando, too. You shake your head and eject him from your thoughts. Guilt is the last thing you needed in that moment.

He leans in slowly and takes your face between his hands, “You’re fucking beautiful.”

You quiver under his gaze and take his mouth. Javier lifts you again and falls on top of you. He begins to kiss you all over, traveling lower and lower with each kiss. You want him to put his hands on your breasts…and he does, caressing them with the perfect amount of pressure. You get wetter and wetter with each stroke. He travels lower and you can feel his hot breath getting closer and closer to the middle of your legs. When he reaches his destination, your body is now his to do whatever he wants. Your back begins to arch and your legs to shake. Your hands begin to grip the sheets relentlessly, then Javier’s head.

You gasp when he begins to work his tongue harder and his thump join. You're breathless, panting, a tear escapes and you just want to release but he stops, and when you can’t imagine any more please, he comes up from where he was, already with a condom on. And then you feel him at your entrance. You gaze deeply into each other’s eyes, and you feel a whole new wave of pleasure when he enters you. You let out a small gasp and Javier grunts a “fuck” and everything blurs with sensations.

“You're so fucking tight,” Javier groans into your ear, “fuck.” You gurgle against his neck as he rocks into you with a deliberate pace. His mouth returns to yours and its as if you missed it, because now you feel in sync.

Soon, everything fades until all you can feel is your entwined bodies fitting perfectly together, pulsing as one. Peaking at the same time. The sweat of each of your bodies making you slick and making your rhythm leisurelier but hotter.

You wrap your legs around Javier’s wait as you feel a tightening in your lower stomach and your toes begin to curl.

“Fuck,” you breathe, and Javier covers your mouth with his. Taking in your gasps. “Fuck...” you breathe while he kisses you.

He bites your jaw and purrs into your ear, and with his deep husky voice he says, “Let go, baby.”

And you do, hard. You tighten your hold of his back, the hold of his hips with your thighs, the walls of your pussy tightening all over his dick. “Ahh,” you gasp and mumble.

Javier tightens his grip of your hair, groans into your neck and comes.

Both you just lay there for a few minutes without talking. Javier’s body on top of yours and the weight doesn’t bother you. You feel at ease. Your shaking and jelly legs begin to fade away, and you feel as relaxed as ever. One of your hands is in Javier’s hair, while the other caresses his back.

He lifts his head. His eyes are glossy and dreamy. “What?” you ask him in a small voice.

He caresses your face and you close your eyes, taking in his touch. “Don’t leave.”

You open your eyes and see sadness in his, “I’m not going anywhere.���

“No, I mean, don’t go back to Kentucky,” he passes a thumb over your lower lip and then gives you a tender kiss.

Your heart then breaks with his words. Of course, you had to leave. You had a job, someone waiting for you back home, kind of, and you couldn’t leave it.

You reach up and move his hair away from his forehead, “I have to, but im not going anywhere, I’m yours right now. So, let’s just relish whatever we have right now, yeah?”

He nods and kisses you deeper. And then you feel him get harder against your thigh. You give him a devilish smile, “Already? I thought you would need more time, old man.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “I’m only 41, I’m like two twenty year olds,” he pushes up from you, gets off the bed, you hear a rip and then he heads to you again.

“Now what?” you giggle and squirm. He leans down, wraps an arm around your waist and with one swift move he flips you, you yelp and laugh. He grabs your hips and pulls them up to him until his sex pistol is against you. You’re now on all fours.

He leans down against your back and whispers against your ear, kneading your ass, “Now, I have a question for you.”

Your stomach does a somersault and you titter, “What’s that?”

He reaches to the front and rubs your clit, you whimper, “Have you ever had a real Texan in you?”

You have no time to reply a “yes” when he grabs you by your hair and enters you. Both of you exclaim at the same time. He fits you like a glove. Hitting just the right places at just the right time. Nothing on your mind, only the sensation and satisfaction that you're feeling with Javier inside of you.

You hear his grunting and groaning and that only gets you closer and closer. “Faster,” you say.

“Fuck,” he says but doesn’t speed up. He slows down, “Ask nicely.”

You reach back where his hands are holding onto your hips and you straighten up. Your back touches his chest and you reach up to where his hair is at. You pull him down to your mouth and stop, “Fuck. Me. Faster.”

He engulfs your mouth with his and fucks you tougher. He moans into your mouth, “Ask again.”

You pull at his hair again, gasping, “Please. Faster.” And he does. He pushes you down and you don’t go on all fours, you instead lay your face down and extend your arms forward so your ass is the only thing up in the air. Sooner than you think of, you're getting closer and Javier thightens his grip of your ass. He reaches down and circles your aching nub mercilessly, making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

“Fuck!” you both scream in unison. Feeling the electricity travel all over me your body. Javier then collapses on top of you, panting. After a few moments, he stands up and goes for a cigarette, and begins to light it.

“Nope,” you say, staring at him over your shoulder. “No smoking in my home.”

He looks at you in astonishment, his chest and stomach glistening from his sweat, “Really?”

You grab a pillow and hug it to you while you're still on your stomach, “Yes,” you smile and pat the bed, “Come here.”  

He stops mid-light and grumbles. He walks to you and leaves the cigarette and lighter on top of the nightstand. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to the floor and replaces himself with it. You inhale his sweaty, manly musk when he hugs you and kisses you. You feel content. It had been so long, it felt, since you didn't have a worry or were stressed about work.

Javier kisses the top of your head when he lays down and positions your head atop his chest. Brenton Wood had stopped singing a long time ago and now, you both laid there in comfortable silence, you listening to his heart thump against your ear, slowing down.

As you both drift away, Jack comes into your mind. I miss you, he says, kisses you and then gets shot. You wake up startled and panting. Javier opens his eyes and asks, “You Ok?”

“Yeah,” you say and take a deep breath. You lay back down, but the picture of Jack getting shot in the chest keeps prying your mind.

And then...

Ring, ring…

Your stomach drops and your breath hitches. You shoot out of bed and grab the phone that’s on your nightstand, fumbling it.

“Hello?” you say out of breath. But there’s no one on the other side. “Hello?” you say again.

“Y/N!” you hear Ginger on the other side, “He’s here!” She says and you suddenly feel like you want to throw up. “Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Yes, I-,” you turn and see Javier staring at you with concern in his beautiful face and eyes. But the only thing you see is Whiskey staring back at you, “I’m on my way.”

Taggity-Tags: @shikin83 @readsalot73 @otherthingsinhead @batata-elegante @fleurdemiel145 @maryan028 @stxriss @igotmadskills @just-add-butter @ghostofthebarricade @fatbottomedcurls @mrsparknuts

[thatsaweirdwaytospellundead]

Mankai’s 5th Mixed Troupe Play: Yin Yang Midnight 2/ 3

This story takes place during the Heian era-- The extravagant culture and lifestyles of the wealthy elite are coming to an end as murmurings of a mysterious Onryo begin to spread through the court.

Then suddenly, an unexplained plague begins to sweep through the streets of the city. The epidemic moves swiftly through the royal court until the emperor himself falls ill.

Characters

Sakyo as Abe no Seimei

Azuma as Kou

Citron as Geppaku

Guy as Hisui

Explanation of terms

This story is heavily based on traditional Japanese religious practices and thus some Japanese terms will be left to preserve the meaning of the story. I have also included links to wikipedia artists explaining the terms if you would like to read more.

Heian Period: Japanese era that lasted between 794 - 1185 AD.

Onmyouji: A person who practices “Onmyoudo”, a spiritual practice common in Japan during the Heian Period. Onmyouji were responsible for keeping track of calendars, performing rituals, etc.

Onmyouji Bureau: An official department in the royal court made up of Onmyouji who served the emperor.

Onryo: A vengeful spirit that returns after death to cause chaos.

Shikigami: A spirit companion that is summoned by an Onmyouji to help with tasks. They can possess animals and use magic, however it takes a lot of strength from the Onmyouji to control their Shikigami properly.

Due to the length of this play, I will be posting it in 3 parts

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ]

Seimei

There’s quite a lot of them.

This battle formation is really quite...

Kou

This curse thing sure is powerful.

So in order to surround the palace whoever planned this needed to be smart about how exactly they were going to stretch this curse around the perimeter.

The guy behind this must have waaay too much time on their hands.

Seimei

Whoever did it must hate the imperial court so much to put all this effort into this curse.

Just taking away one or two points wouldn’t really have any effect.

If only we could find a way to get the leader...

Kou

So you plan to fight that bastard face to face?

You’re not gonna ask me to do it, right?

Seimei

Go get Geppaku for me. We need to think of a plan of attack.

Kou

Hoping you don’t regret it later.

Seimei deduces that whoever is responsible for the plague must have some deeply held resentment for the imperial court.

At the same time, Seimei’s discovery reveals that the onryo they are dealing with is incredibly strong.

Seimei and Geppaku decide to split up to wait at the locations they predict the onryo could appear next.

Seimei

It will definitely appear here next.

Kou, help me set a trap. I want to conceal myself 

Kou

You got it.

Seimei conceals himself and waits for the onryo to arrive.

???

 .....

Seimei

It’s here.

Bind! Make haste, follow my command!

???

----

Kou

Dammit.

Seimei

Did it get away?

Kou

Damn.

This guy sure is a pain in the ass, what the hell.

He’s powerful and cunning.

Seimei

Who knows what damage that gremlin will do if we just let him run wild....

We really do need the support of the Onnyouji Bureau.

Seimei manages to ambush the onryo and even though it seems like his attack did some damage, the onryo manages to escape.

After telling the Onmyouji Bureau of his encounter and presenting his findings, Seimei is finally able to persuade the Onmyouji Bureau to help him.

Seimei

And after all this, we can finally move around the court as we please.

Geppaku 

I am happy to hear that. As for me, I will continue to search the town for curses scattered throughout the area.

Seimei

Hey, Geppaku, you should come and investigate with me inside the imperial court --

Geppaku

Well about that. You know I am not allowed to set foot inside that place.

Seimei

I was the one who got us permission so there is no need to worry.

Geppaku

But don’t you think someone like me would cause unnecessary panic if I was to wander around in there?

The fact of the matter is, there is an unexplained pandemic going around. If I was to wander inside the imperial court people would be quick to point fingers and wonder what sort of chaos my presence would signal.

Seimei

Well I don’t think people would really--

Geppaku

People fear those who are different.

My deepest apologies that I cannot be of more help.

Seimei

Geppaku...

Seimei

Kou, go search for any impurities within the imperial court!

Kou

Ehh, sounds like a pain. What about asking your friend?

Seimei

Geppaku is not allowed to enter the imperial court.

Kou

Huh, you mean he can’t get past the barrier?

Seimei

...... But me and Geppaku are....The same...

Even though we are both part of the Onmyouji Bureau...

Our teacher was also looking forward to seeing Geppaku’s talent shine....

But because of where he was born, he could never fulfill his dreams.

Kou

I see.

Well then I could see why he ended up so rebellious.

Seimei

Rebellious?

Kou

Have you not noticed?

Wooow, you really are dense.

Seimei

What are you talking about?

Kou

Exactly what I said.

That brat friend of yours is not who you think he is.

Seimei

Hey, I will not stand for this Geppaku slander!

Kou

Well excuse me then.

Fine fine fine, I guess I don’t understand humans after all.

Seimei invites Geppaku to come with him and investigate inside the imperial court, however Geppaku tells him that he is not allowed inside and rejects his invitation.

Later, during Kou’s investigation, he discovers traces of the mysterious curse inside the imperial court.

Seimei

So what you’re telling me is you found signs of the curse within the imperial court?

Kou

Yep, seems like it got through the barrier.

I couldn’t have imagined that it would spread this far.

Seimei

This is something only a human could have done.

Now that I think of it, when we encountered that onryo the other day I had a feeling it could be someone else’s shikigami....

It would have to be someone strong for them to control such a powerful shikigami.

There’s no one from this land that could--

Kou

What is it?

Seimei

Umm..

Kou, let’s go set up a counter curse.

Kou

ARE YOU FOR REAL?

How many times will I have to tell you, this is the work of spirit that holds an immense amount of negative energy--

It would literally swallow you alive, you wouldn’t be able to handle it!

Seimei

We can keep chasing this thing in circles like we have been, but it would only yield the same result. With this method, we can finish it all in one shot.

Kou

Well, well, didn’t expect you to go through such extremes.

By setting up a counter attack, Seimei aims to find out if the person on the other side of the mysterious epidemic is indeed a human. Seimei cannot fathom anyone who would be strong enough to control such a large-scale attack and control a shikigami so skillfully.

Despite his hesitation to believe this could be a work of another Onmyouji, Seimei takes it upon himself to find out who the mastermind is behind all of this.

Seimei

--- Ku...aah... UWAAA!!!

Kou

Sucks.

Hey, master!

Seimei

REVERSE, Make haste, follow my command! 

Kou

Wow, more stubborn than I thought!

GREAT! Now he can’t escape!

??? 

--GWAAAAAA!!!

Seimei

H-Huh, why are you here?

What do you want?

Why are you causing chaos in our city, why are you hurting the great emperor?

???

W-Wouldn’t you like you know....

GAH!

Seimei

Who is your master?

???

E-EVEN IF YOU WEAKEN ME, I WILL NEVER--

Seimei 

--

Kou

I think we’ve heard enough, don’t you think?

Seimei

Alright, fine.

Kou

Now’s time to deliver the punishment!

???

--

Kou

!?

Seimei

He disappeared...?

Kou

Damn.

Seems like whoever is behind all of this interfered.

Seimei

... Kou, follow that energy! We need to uncover the perpetrator!

Kou

You don’t need to tell me twice.

Seimei takes it upon himself to plant a counter curse.

Despite taking severe damage, somehow the onryo manages to disappear. Seimei deduces this was the work of someone stepping in to save the onryo at the last minute.

In an attempt to find where the mastermind is hiding, Seimei orders Kou to chase after the onryo.

To be continued... Read part 3 here!