#craig so hard to draw sobs

[shooison]

HELLO!!! ITS BEEN A LONG WHILE BUT UH IVE BEEN ON SPTWT ACTUALLY ITS A STRANGE EXPERIENCE BUT IVE MADE FRIENDS!! SO IM MAKING A CREEK COMIC MORE INFO BELOW THE CUT

So for easier writing and for easier plot characters are aged up the story starts right before they start their junior year of high school it will feature my favorite rare pair!! Marjorine and Nichole along with some stylenny cause I'm a sucker for it

It starts off like a coffee shop AU basically and not every scene will have color just special stuff

i do A LOT or projecting but I try very hard to keep them in character and I very much like the chubby tweek hc

i also draw legs weird i guess? people don't like the way I draw legs and I get made fun of for side profiles but that shit hard i also draw craig with star bobbles examples below

craigs outfit is one of my favorite outfits btw hahaha

im really excite for this and im going to share something that the people on twt and in the discord servers don't know kinda spoilers (ish)

im gonna make it angsty kinda im trying to capture the "omfg I'm crying real tears" in the comments or like "NOOOOOOOOOOOO" and might throw in a death or two idk I do very much enjoy watching in the comments as people sob over something is that strange?

[darklightmiwxo]

MIW history

Hello I want to make a history and facts post of MIW. I been a fan for a few months so I may miss some stuff out. New fans can check this out to understand more of the band.

Motionless in white members:

[IMG=OAA]

Name: Chris motionless (cerulli)

Full name: Christopher Cerulli)

Age: 34

Birthday: October 17 1986

Zodiac: Libra

Birth place: Scranton Pennsylvania

Height: 6'1

Role: main singer

Relationship Status: single

Chris says he doesn't want to get married.

Fear: heights and flying

Personality: a really kind person who cares for his fans he's funny and has a dad humor. Everyone just see him as a dad to them.

Interest: Chris really loves dogs. He plays video games halo and call of duty he plays it all the time. His fave bands is slipknot,marlin manson,korn,HIM,and more rock bands.

[IMG=EOZ]

Name: Ricky Olson (horror)

Full name: Richard Alison Olson the third

Nick name: Rick

Age: 32

Birthday: September 1st 1988

Birth place: Seattle WA

Lives: Scranton Pennsylvania

Zodiac: Virgo

Height: 5'6

Uni: he studied film production in college but dropped out for the band.

Role: rhythm guitarist and backing vocalist

Relationship status: taken by Jamie L

Fear: dying alone,being hated,failing

Personality: he's a calm sweet person he's very smart and also really kind. He's a good caring friend. However he can be a troll sometimes and mess around with everyone because he loves doing it. He loves his fans so much. He's a shy boy.

Interest: he loves to write,draw,edit,take photos, record videos,run his YouTube channel,create a mini sketch video to post on his channel, being a director,he loves cats and reading books.

Ricky fave bands is: muse,HIM,afi,slipknot,BMTH,Ariana grande,Ellie goulding.

[IMG=NEP]

Name: Vinny Mauro

Full name: Vinchenzo Mauro

Nick name: vin,chenzo,sachetti

Nationality: Italian American

Age: 27

Birthday: Nov 22 1993

Birth place: jersey shore Pennsylvania

Zodiac: Sagittarius

(he's also a Sagittarius Scorpio cusp)

Height: 5'6

Uni: vinny study computer programming but he dropped out of college to join the band in 2014

Role: drummer

Bands: MIW,suffer club,trap demon

Relationship Status: single

Fear: being hated by people

Personality: in most of Ricky vlogs vinny seem extroverted he is loud around friends and has lots of fun being silly. But in reality there is a side to him that isn't easy to see you can see it in his twitch stream. He's actually really introverted he said this himself. He's calming and sweet he interact with fans a lot and making sure fans respect each other. He loves to be alone in his room for many days avoiding human contact. Vinny mention being too shy to go up to new people but he is fine if people go up to him. He doesn't feel comfortable talking to new people. He likes being alone.

Interest: creating rap beats,playing video games,making music,dogs and cats,playing drums.

Vinny fave artist are: Fall out boy,paramore,korn,panic! At the disco,HIM,my chemical romance,arch enemy,maroon 5,emeiem,Ariana grande,dua lipa,Mack millo,doji cat,bring me the horizon,pierce the veil,sleeping with sirens,all time low,black veil brides,Rihanna,linkin park,green day,evanescences.

[IMG=XHH]

Name: Ryan Sitkowski

Age: 30

Birthday: Jan 8,1991

Zodiac: Capricorn

Birth place: Pennsylvania

Height: 5'11?

Uni: he dropped out of college to join MIW

Role: lead guitarist

Relationship Status: taken

Fear: spiders

Personality: Ryan is a chill person he's shy and caring to fans. He's also a troll he loves to mess around with his friends.

Interest: guitar,video games,trading card games.

Bands: the same as the rest of miw probably.

[IMG=QFE]

Name: Justin morrow

Age: 32?

Birthday: May 11th

Birth place: Caledonia, New York

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: 6'1

Role: bassist

Relationship Status: married

Fear: ?

Personality: Justin is a kind chill person who cares for his fans and his friends. He left ice nine kills to right away help MIW on tour. Justin is also a troll he loves trolling his friends.

Interest: videos games but not a nerd like the others,bass,cosplaying,putting makeup on.

Bands: the same as MIW

Motionless in white history:

The band started in high school of 2005

Chris,Angelo,Frank p,Kyle white being the first members of the band. Later after college and the bands demo releases Josh joined the band. Frank moved to bass. Micheal and TJ join as guitarist. Later on micheal left the band and Chris met Ryan. Ryan then joined as guitarist of the band. Chris met Ricky in 2009. Frank left the band and Ricky was the new bassist for MIW.

MIW got more popular in 2009 when they tour around the state's in a van. Tj left the band a year later to join escape the fate (Ronnie radke of falling in reverse old band and bless the fall singer Craig band) Ricky then became the new rythmn guitarist of the band. Ghost (Devin) join as the bass player of the band. During the infamous album creation Angelo was feeling ill he couldn't play drums well anymore he gets tired easily and his drum skills wasn't good at all he was eating bad that it make him weak. He couldn't drum anymore so he left the band. The band had other drummers help record their albums. Brandon was the touring drummer for the band till the end of the reincarnated album. The band met vinny and he became the new drummer he was in the reincarnated music video playing drums but you can't see him much in the music video. Vinny then became a member of MIW not a tour drummer anymore but a actually member of MIW. Josh left the band around this time. In the graveyard shift era after the making of the album the whole band kicked ghost out of the band because the fans told the band what ghost did to fans which was very gross. The band kicked him out and Justin from ice nine kills join the band as bassist then he quit ice nine kills to be working full time for MIW. Disguise is the first album where the whole current members of the band created songs without other people doing it for them.

Chris history from high school to now:

Chris grew up in Pennsylvania. He met his friends who end up being the band members of the band he wanted to create he wasn't expecting to be the main singer. At a young age Chris started getting tattoos everywhere.

Chris cared about the band and just went for it.

Demos of the band was created. Chris is a perfectionist he wants the album to be perfect so he was judging everything in order to make a album he liked. Band members left but he didn't quit the band he try to find new band members and try to meet new bands. He worked hard for the band he carry the whole band and make sure the band was doing well. Chris thanks Ryan and Ricky for being the most loyal band members staying with him all these years and not leaving him. Chris had the fear of failing the band breaking up and Chris dreams crushing down but Chris didn't let that happen at all. And here we are today.

Ryan Sitkowski college to now:

Ryan dropped out of college to join MIW at age 17. He was new to the band and Josh didn't like him at all. Ryan was at a young age traveling all over the state with the band. Ryan haven't shared much of his life on the internet he kept it more private. Ryan got a girlfriend and then when the lockdown happen he started streaming on twitch to interact with fans and made a discord too.

Ricky Olson high school to now:

Ricky is the oldest of his siblings. When Ricky was young he was playing with his friends sports and something hit his tooth so half of Ricky teeth is fake. He mention he cry to his mom on the phone because of it. Ricky in middle school wanted to be in a band because his friends played instruments and he wanted to join them. Ricky in high school was a shy boy who had a few friends but they were mostly fake friends. Ricky Olson begin to play guitar and write stories because of the inspiration of Ville Valo from HIM. He became obsessed with HIM. Ricky was in a band in high school as the lead singer but was kicked out for sounding like Ville valo. One of Ricky dreams was to be in a band and also a film maker. In college he study film production. While also working in band merch booth selling band merch to people. But since Ricky was too shy he got yelled at for not speaking up and selling more. Ricky was in a bad time around 2008 and 2009. He share this in a blog years ago about this. He was in a lost place had a bad past and he was thinking of the past all the time and future worrying about failing the future he wanted to be in a band but he was so lost he had no idea what to do in his life. He would day dream about being in a band and then cry to sleep every night about his life. He had depression and gave up with everything in his life. He drank achoul every day. One day on his sister 16 birthday Ricky was drunk coming home from work to go to his parents house his sister was sleeping in her bed.

Tw// self harm and suicide attempt:

Ricky was laying in his sister's bed he cut his arm with a knife it was a lot Ricky was sobbing while watching the blood going down his arm to the floor his dad saw what happen and ask Ricky what happen. Ricky was sobbing and yelling he wanted to die many times. He passed out and went to the hospital he lost a lot of blood and the achoul level was really high he drank way too much. He almost died. He end up getting better and went to see a therapist. He went to see MIW with a friend. Ricky met Chris and the band thought Ricky was cool so he invited them to stay at his house. Chris text Ricky being like should join our band. Ricky would often say idk if I should he didn't know if he would be good enough for the band.

He later on join and quit college but Ricky mention still feeling depressed while in the band. Josh ballaz disliked Ricky when he joined too. 2 years later Ricky moved to rythmn guitarist but he wasn't used to playing guitar since he mostly did bass so he often made mistakes on guitar. He was still learning to play guitar. Things got better for Ricky. But his dream job was always filming he does some film stuff on tour and at home. Though he knew he probably won't be a film maker for movies like he dream of doing he makes whatever he can make. Ricky has stomach problems he often went to the doctor because of it.

Vinny Mauro childhood to now:

Vinny is one of the youngest children of his family. He has many siblings. Vinny mention on stream that he had a bad past. He mention that his dad would take achoul all the time and not give a fuck about vinny. Vinny mom would always go after Vinny. Vinny as a kid was a trouble maker he would disobey his parents and think it was funny. His mom would throw stuff at him and threaten him. His dad gave him a drum set so vinny end up learning to play drums he self taught himself to play drums. He listen to music and got into new types of music he likes all types of music. In middle school a girl that he liked asked him if he can play paramore on drums and vinny played it for her.

In high school vinny was a outcast and loner he made friends in his neighborhood but at school he had no friend. He didn't fit in with anyone. He mention in Ricky Olson podcast his high school life. Ricky ask him how he didn't find friends in high school. Vinny mention saying he didn't fit in with anyone he is also a shy person so he doesn't go up to new people. He was more a loner and was fine with it. Vinny went to uni to study computer programming but he didn't like it at all he was often bored he posted videos of him drumming on his YouTube channel. He knew a guy who knew MIW. MIW was looking for a drummer and they asked vinny to try out for drums in another country which was Australia. Vinny dropped out of college and told his parents what he was doing they weren't happy about that but he end up going over there trying out drums but he was very nervous. He met the band and then went to start drumming. Chris and Ricky were in the same room as vinny they were watching him play drums. Chris being very judgemental. He often scares Ricky when he's on guitar and Ricky fear to make a single mistake in front of Chris and vinny felt that fear. He even said I think I mess up a few times on drums. After he finish drumming. Ricky and Chris went to talk said not a single word and vinny was sweating so much thinking he made a mistake and he won't be part of the band. Later on Chris made vinny part of the band. Vinny became the tour member of the band then he became a member of MIW.

Years later vinny decided to interact more with fans since he had time to so he livestreams on twitch and has discord to interact with fans.

The lock down happen and vinny spend time interacting with fans. He lives with his friend in a house together. But something about vinny these few years mostly months to now that was starting to show. Vinny was suddenly showing signs of depression he often tweet depressing stuff but each year got worst for him. 2020 was the start of vinny's down fall. He had so much self hate he hated his hair,his body,his looks everything about himself he hate. He even tweeted saying I'm sad so I'm going to make a song. He release alone. Even he tweeted about something sad saying 2020 was a bad start for him and Ricky ask if he was ok and hoping vinny was just joking around. During December vinny had back pains because of a sneeze that hurt his nerves so vinny was in so much pain and he didn't see a doctor he thought he could fight it himself just taking pain meds to him. In Jan of 2021 the start of vinny down hill. He was in so much pain he couldn't leave his room or chair he couldn't even drum. He was very depressed. He hated life so much. A month later he got better and went back to streaming but still he was struggling there was some bad stuff happening anyway with him. The covid shot made him sick Saying he didnt eat anything for 4 days he felt like throwing up he even woke up in the middle of the night thinking he was going to do it and other stuff that made him depressed. Around April of this year small amount of fans notice something was going on with vinny he mention so much self hate about himself. In May he mention he was fine but a week later he said he was depressed and talking about what happen months ago and years ago. Sharing something about his family past and he stopped himself saying he doesn't want to get too into it. Vinny mention that he was eating food once a day because he felt like he is fat for over eating food all the time so he end up just eating dinner only everyday. He done it since the beginning of March and still is doing it. He wanted to loss weight. So he doesn't want breakfast and lunch but he eats dinner.

Around may vinny was in rock bottom he talk to no one at all even Ryan was 30 mins away from vinny and he ask him why he didn't go to see him and vinny said he didn't know why. Vinny mention saying he talked to no one for a week straight he also mention he isn't the kind of person to go up to people he said he's very introverted. he stopped streaming for weeks because he was doing bad. He said he felt burnt out and tired.

He took his break off social media for many weeks. Around this time many fans notice vinny was really not doing well.

Then he return to streaming around the 18th of June. Just to say hi he said he miss his fans but he plans to stream again a few weeks later. He mention that he have been avoiding all human contact and was staying in his room playing video games and drums all day still with the once a meal thing he does. Vinny said he's not depressed but people ask him about his depressing tweets and he said is it really depressing. Someone ask him why he is listening to sad music and he said am I not allowed to enjoy music. Now more fans are worried about him. Many more fans noticing that vinny isn't ok and he's hiding it.

That's basically all of MIW history I could give.

I will update and add more to the list later when something new happens. The vinny stuff is true I been watching his streams a lot and he mention those stuff so I just wanted to share what he said. I been a MIW fan for 8 months so I may not know Ryan and Justin as much as the others. Since they don't share much about themselves.

Hoping you enjoy this. Free feel to comment somethings I forgot to add.

Please don't argue about ghost ok. Ty

[lyssismagical]

peter has a bad mental health day, forgets that it's lab night. tony helps out.

{TW for mental illness/mental health}

His phone rings.

It’s obvious from the moment he opens his eyes that it would be a Bad Day.

On Bad Day his brain feels like it’s rotting. It’s so dark, so heavy, and the world is grey.

He should answer his phone. He should go to school. He should pretend to exist. He should try to find a way out of the darkness his mind has shrouded him in.

But it feels pointless.

Everything around him feels pointless.

The idea of even trying feels pointless.

So he tugs his blankets over his head, wishes the warm air that he traps around him would suffocate him, and lets his phone ring.

Time doesn’t exist beneath his blankets.

His phone rings endlessly, but he doesn’t have the strength to find it. He just listens to the ringing, over and over again.

Probably his school, May, Ned, maybe MJ. Maybe even Tony if the school was worried enough.

Eventually, the rumbling of his stomach is too much to ignore and it grates at his ears, wishing everything would be silent so he could float and let time slip through his fingers.

He tugs on The Bad Day Sweater. It was one of Ben’s, a stupid blue sweater he’d won in a contest or something. Peter used to wear it to therapy after Ben died and May thought it was a good idea until money went tight. Now, it’s his Bad Day Sweater, worn and dull in colour, though Peter can’t tell if it’s really dull of it just looks dull because it’s a Bad Day.

Dry Cheerios are eaten tastelessly. Slowly, every bite like it’s as hard as lifting a bus.

Soft music plays out from another apartment, old 70s music. It’s nice. It reminds Peter of easier days when May and Ben used to dance around the kitchen to music like this.

His phone rings again, a constant in the world that spins recklessly around him.

He leans over the sink, knuckles white as he clutches the edge of the white basin.

He doesn’t recognize the person in the mirror staring back at him with dark, sunken eyes.

The face shifts and twitches, eyes widening and staring lifelessly. The figure’s mouth is downturned, glassy-eyed, slow blinks.

He doesn’t like the person in the mirror, the boy who looks dead or might as well be. The boy with the fear filling his dark eyes, matching the tears that well up.

Quick to turn away from the image, Peter sinks to the bathroom floor, phone ringing in the background.

Sobs escape his throat, an uncomfortable headache already forming behind his eyes, the paint of the world muddling together.

But all he can think about is the crack in the baseboard. It travels up through the white into the pale blue of the bathroom wall, an imperfection. Like he is.

He watches from outside his own body as he falls apart at the seams, nothing he can do to pull the pieces of him back together.

Eventually, he drags himself up off the floor, into his bedroom, and hides from the world beneath his blankets.

His phone continues to ring.

“Peter?”

That’s his name, he thinks, brain slowly whirring along like a broken machine. He knows it’s his name, but he doesn’t respond, burrowing further into his cocoon of blankets. His Bad Day Sweater still smells like Ben, covering the bottom half of his face.

“Pete?”

His phone rings.

His Bad Day Sweater smells like Ben – but not of metallic blood or cold rain like the last time he day he saw him.

“Kid?”

A gentle hand touches his shoulder through the blankets. It’s not grounding enough, not enough to pull him back from the floating place he’s receded to.

His mind is rotting.

His Bad Day Sweater is heavy, but not as heavy as his head feels.

“It was Lab Day today, kiddo. Went to pick you up from school and found out you didn’t go to school today.” The voice is quiet, soft, but it echoes in Peter’s head, cutting it’s way through the thick vines that’s encased his thoughts.

The blankets are peeled back from him and if had any more strength, he might’ve tried to grab them back. But even breathing feels like lifting the warehouse off of him.

“There you are, buddy.”

His mind is rotting.

His head is heavy.

Every breath feels like running a marathon.

His phone is ringing.

His Bad Day Sweater smells like Depression.

Tony sits above him. Realer than Peter could ever be. He helps Peter into a sitting position and one hand stays on Peter’s shoulder, like it’s trying to alleviate some of the pressure that fills his head.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony asks, so carefully like Peter’s made of glass.

He opens his mouth, but nothing escapes him, vines in his head tightening and everything’s so heavy.

Tony offers a smile, gentle and easy in a way Peter wishes he could pull off. He’s just so tired.

A hand is offered to him, and there’s no repercussions when Peter can’t find the strength to take it. Tony just grabs his hand anyways and tugs until Peter’s feet are on the ground. He sways, listing into Tony’s side when he finds himself too tired to hold himself up.

Luckily, Tony just wraps his arms tighter around Peter and leads him off to the living room.

Soon enough, Peter’s on the couch, curled up in the corner, his Bad Day Sweater pulled up over his nose, and one of May’s quilts over his legs.

And before he knows it, there’s a mug of hot chocolate in his hands along with a bowl of fruits sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey, kid, I know… I know it isn’t easy, but I hate being out of the loop like this,” Tony says, trying to play it off nonchalantly, but the worry is evident in his voice. “Is it just…”

“Bad Day,” Peter says, voice hoarse. He can’t imagine how much the neighbors hate him after the crying he’s been doing and the ringing phone. He hopes Tony understands the capitalization.

Tony’s face turns down in a frown, worried eyes scanning over Peter’s face.

“Peter, do you- are you depressed?”

It feels like a strange question to be asked, but he can, from what he can remember from being in a Good Day mindset, understand the confusion. He’s always been a bubbly, cheerful kid. It’s easy to assume there’s no underlying problems.

Peter nods slowly, takes a sip from his hot drink and tries to focus as best as he can.

His mind is rotting.

His head is heavy.

His thoughts are in vines.

He’s floating.

His phone in ringing.

“Your friends won’t stop calling you,” Tony says, looking towards Peter’s bedroom where the ringing is coming from. “They’re worried about you and so is May. She had no idea you stayed home from school.”

Peter doesn’t bother answering.

“Please, kid,” Tony’s saying, almost desperately. “You have to talk to me. I don’t- I don’t know how to make everything better. This isn’t the kind of thing I can just buy my way through or ignore. But I- I’ve never…”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. He wishes he knew how to make it better too. “Bad Days just are. It is what it is.”

Tony shakes his head, nearly too fast for Peter’s blurry brain to make sense of. “This isn’t okay. This isn’t just whatever. You don’t deserve it. I know what it’s like, kid, and it’s not fair for you to feel like you can’t do anything about it.”

Peter finally meets Tony’s stare, lifeless and heavy and rotting. “What am I supposed to do?”

Running a hand through his hair, Tony sighs without an answer.

“I used to go to therapy,” Peter says suddenly. He remembers it vaguely. He remembers being angry while there. His Bad Day Sweater still smells like that time in his life. “After Ben died… His name was Craig and he was nice enough. But money got tight.”

“Peter-”

Tears fill his eyes and he coughs, trying to hide the lump in his throat. He wants to get better. He wants to be okay. He wants to stop having Bad Days. He wants Tony to just erase all of the mental suffering he’s been enduring. But he knows it takes time and effort, and now, a Bad Day, he doesn’t have either.

Tony seems to realize this and his whole demeanor relaxes. “That’s okay, kid. We’ll figure it out another day, yeah? Come here.”

One of Tony’s arms wrap around his shoulders and draws him into a tight hug. His breaths are even and steady, hand steadying and warm.

Peter sniffles, tiredness washing over him. He lets go of the heaviness that sits in his mind, let’s Tony bear some of it. Lets Tony’s life and strength wash away the rot in his brain.

It’s a Bad Day and there will always be bad days, a hug and a strong force at his side will make the Bad Day’s easier, but it isn’t a permanent solution, it never will be.

But for now, it’s enough.

He takes a deep breath, basking in the easiness of following Tony’s.

“You’ll be okay, kid, I promise you.”

His phone rings.

[tigerdovefan34-realone]

Unintentional Effects

All she could do was stare at what was in front of her eyes, the object in her hand that made her shake and sick. Just, no...why her? Why them? Didn’t they do everything right? He said he had it all under control and she had made sure to keep herself safe from any potential side effects. But instead, it had failed and now, here she was, on the bathroom floor, her stomach doing multiple flips as she stared at the news she had been given. Suddenly, a loud knocking came from outside the door. “Tammy, babe, you alright in there?” Her boyfriend asked with the most concerned voice she had ever heard.

That boy, Kenneth “Kenny” James McDaniel McCormick, her boyfriend since her fifth grade years, had been though a lot with her. The two of them trusted one another with pretty much anything simply because Ken had proven him to be a very upstanding guy, and one who was intensely loyal at that. Yes, he was a bit perverted but she herself was somewhat perverted. That’s what made their relationship work, that’s what made it tick, that’s what made it so hot.

That’s why she was now in the situation she was in now.

Another series of knock. “Baby, please answer me.” Tammy didn’t know when the tears started to come but they did and quickly her body was shaking violently as she silently sobbed into the toilet, staring into the pregnancy test in her hands. The test that had a big plus sign on it. She wasn’t mad at Kenny for getting her pregnant, god no. She loved him too much to be that selfish and petty. But...but he didn’t deserve this. His life was hard enough as it is. Dealing with the constant assholes that was his group of friends (The only kids she liked were Butters (simply due to how kind he was), Clyde (due to how approachable he seemed), and maybe Tweek and Craig, the others, especially Cartman and the two narcissistic boyfriends (were Kyle and Stan gay? She honestly didn’t know) could go die in a fire due to how they treat Ken), his horrible family life (He had assured her multiple times after going to her with black eyes, scratches, bruises, lashes, and so many awful things that it wasn’t that bad and that his family were good people. She could see that with Carol and maybe Kevin, definitely Karen, but Stuart? She’d had a hard time believing that), and being a vigilante working to keep the city safe on a near nightly basis. Then there was his curse and...god damn it.

Simply put, Ken...He didn’t have the time to be a father and she just couldn’t put that much tension onto him. They were so damn close to graduating. She was a Junior in High School, going to be a Sophomore next year, Kenny was just a year behind her due to grade differences. He still had 2 years left, he didn’t need the burden.

But, being the father...he had the right to know and he also deserved to have a say in deciding what to do with it. She couldn’t be selfish, Especially with Ken. They both did 50% of the work, he needed to be there to make decisions that were important as well. One last knock came. “Tammy, darling, if you don’t say anything in the next five second, I’m busting the door down!” Quickly, the brunette girl got up from the floor and, feeling slightly sick to her stomach, and both approached the door and opened to reveal a very worried looking blonde, pure blue irises flickering with concern.

“Baby, are you ok? We were just cuddling and then you...” He trailed off as he noticed something. Squinting, he let out a loud gasp as he saw red trimmed eyes. “Tam, are you ok?! Did I hurt you?!” He asked, voice filled with worry and love. That’s what she loved about him, so selfless and yet such a great lover. He was perfect boyfriend material. And she also knew what would happen the moment she told the truth. Kenny, he was, well, he cared too much, especially when it came to children. Might’ve had something to do with his home life but...She hated explaining everything.

“Babe, you ok?” She gave a small nod before a long shuddering breath.

“Ken, I-I-I n-need to t-tell you s-something.” Within moments, he pounced at her shoulders and gave her a steely look, begging for her to continue. “Please don’t think any differently of me.”

“No, never.” Stupid question, of course he wouldn’t. Tammy swallowed roughly before speaking.

“I-I d-don’t know how o-or why, but,” she looked at her lover with the most distraught expression and the moment the next sentence left her lips, he froze and pupils shrunk to pinpricks as his world shattered and was rebuilt. “I’m pregnant. Yours.”

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Here’s a short little thing I made while tired and suffering from WB. Hope you enjoyed. If this gets enough likes and reblogs and I’ll probably turn this into a full fic, BTW, feel free to draw art, just mention me as having come up with the idea. Anywho, gn now.

[allyvampirelass29]

The Besiege of Bruce Wayne McQueen

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

I didn't say you could get up I'll swing the hammer back Until you've had enough Your armor cracking, amidst your son's frantic call Tell me, Victoria Who's the Strongest Creative of them all? Bones breaking You cower before me shaking As I wield my blunt instrument without relent You've had your fun, Bad Mother I hope you've gallivanted to your heart's content I am the magic your beautiful boy has so long lacked Bruce Wayne best behave Or I'll break his mother's back Lost Boys belong in Neverland Consider me, his Peter Pan You don't care for him like I can Neglect and endangerment is the McQueen way, isn't it? You selfish fake C'mon Vic He's safer with his Uncle Manx You ungrateful Brat....... Just say THANKS!!!!

Three words. PULSE. POUNDING. PHENOMENAL!!!!!!! I write this wide-eyed and shell-shocked, a trembling wreck of electric emotion, the prevalent being pure, paralyzing BLISS!!!! DAMN, NOS4A2 you are SPOILING us!!!! Is it Christmas!? Last week I watched the glowing potential of the ascending firework disappear, and just as I lamented its predicted fizzle out, it SHATTERED the skies around me with an explosion of colours brighter and more vivid than anything I've ever seen, in a deafening ROAR!!!! HOLY SMASH!!! I LOVED THIS EPISODE, so much so, that I feel like I lived it, every death defying second, so ALIVE with the rawest emotion, the most terrifyingly beautiful villainy, my every sense heightened, and in this bloody besiege for one, Bruce Wayne McQueen, our spectacular cast shines BLINDING, giving their best, and most authentic performances of the series. Prepare yourselves for a Lake House excursion, you will NEVER forget!!!!

I LOVED how this episode sent us sprawling right into the action, and I was so so so wrong about the fantastic build-up of the suspense from last week going to waste, because it lit the fuse for one HELL of a firework display. Where last week didn't hit me quite hard enough, this episode STRUCK like LIGHTNING, electrifying every vein, and barely taken breath. The fight scene....... yes, you know the one, the all out, claws drawn, hammer wielding, haughty taunting, smoulder and slashing duel to the death was pure, screaming, POETRY!!! It's ART, the most electric, ENTHRALLING, aria of wit and savagery, it's the single most INTOXICATING scene, not just in an episode full of instant iconic images, but of the ENTIRE series.

Vic VS Manx, a faceoff fraught with revenge and raw energy, no special powers, no knives even, just hurling razor-edged words, fighting, grappling, scraping, nothing but an autopsy hammer between the two of them, was MESMERIZING!!! Charlie is a black, roiling wave of breathtaking rage, coming down on his worst enemy like hurricane thunder, with a ruthless, ferocity, such as we have never before seen. I loved every second, even as I fell apart at the seams, hand clasped over my mouth, trying not to scream. While some might say this head on collision lacked his usual finesse and refined showmanship, I must vehemently disagree. How clever of the writers to give us a Charlie driven to the verge, snapping, shaking off his gentleman's cape, to reveal his sharpest edge, and rawest fury, not to mention darkest intent. Charlie's done playing the game....... he's ready to win, to take the queen. Or in this case, the prince.

The juxtaposition of his elegantly brandished wit, and the brutality of his swiftly dealt blows, is pure, and utter genius, not to mention one hundred percent CHARLIE!!! I grinned like a lovesick schoolgirl when he told Vic, "I hope you have galivanted to your heart's content." I'm swooning, even as I write that, his dialogue was on point, as the kids say, as perfectly tailored to his elegant malevolence, his beautiful wickedness, as that magnificent chauffer's coat!!! Also, forgive me my shameless fawning, but can we TALK about his shiny, raven especially gorgeous HAIR during this episode!? Whether it's falling wild in his eyes, as he draws back his blood-thirsty hammer, or hanging in dark, feathery waves, as he smirks, leaning over his seemingly vanquished nemesis, Charlie's iconic silken strands were as deadly as his backswing, drawing my eye, and stoking my passion something fierce!

I loved how he laid it all out for her in his Malicious Manx Rhetoric, and one of the things I desperately love about Charlie, is how he can speak such vulnerable truth, even in the midst, of a rasping seethe. He explains it all, passes his sentence, this is why you don't deserve him, this is what I'm going to do, and why you can't stop me, even as he pounds the hammer against her back, oblivious to the protective armor, cleverly concealed in her biker jacket, due to some quick thinking, and a fun, surprising telepathic assist from the miniature McQueen. "No Mom, just play dead......" I loved all the nerves Charlie touched on, not just physical nerves, but the exposed, emotional ones as well. He knows how insecure Vic has felt, about the kind of mother she's been, her shortcomings, her fear about not being good for him, not able to love him like she should, provide for him, and Charlie exploits that to profound perfection. "You won't be able to ride away from your Beautiful Boy. He'll call you, sometimes, from Christmasland, and you will see...... He's BETTER with me!!!"

But the thing that shook me the most, was the bleeding truth of his words as he told her, "That's what you do, Victoria, you run. Even from the things that you LOVE!" WOW Charlie....... the depth, the piercing insight in that quote still gives me chills like mad, and it's a searing revelation. I also marveled at Charlie's outright admission of having been in love with Vic, which I'd always suspected, especially after Parnassus, but he's never just come out and said it, and definitely not to her face. "It's a dangerous game...... endeavoring to love Vic McQueen, I found that out myself with Craig, after you set us both on FIRE." I love how he snuck that in there, how he makes Craig and himself out to be HER victims, and I think Charlie's relationship status with Vic will always be, "It's Complicated," because while she holds a special fascination for him, most of her allure lies in the challenge. What he loves is the most about Vic is hating her. Hell hath no fury like Charlie Manx scorned.

You know what else, was just....... a THRILLING chill!? After giving her a good and proper thrashing, and tongue-lashing, Charlie's voice is a spiteful growl as he rasps furious, "Just say THANKS!!!" I could NOT breathe!! WOW........ What SPLENDID writing!!! It's not enough for Vic to lie there, and take her punishment, the punishment that in Charlie's eyes she so obviously deserves, but he demands her thanks as well, for taking her only child, reprimanding her wicked, wanton ways, sparing her from having to be a bad mother. "If you had a grateful bone in your body, you'd thank me......" Charlie has always seen himself as the hero of NOS4A2, saving children from their broken homes, and lonely lives, and if you told him point blank he was actually the villain, the antagonist, he'd scoff in your face. This idea that he's being generous, actually helping Vic, even as he enacts his ultimate revenge speaks volumes to that, and I loved it. He even tells her young son, with such soothe, "Don't worry........ She can never hurt you again."

That being said, I also loved how Vic fearlessly turned the tables on our handsome phantom, dropping the pretense of excruciating pain to strike hard, breaking Charlie's leg, and leaving a nasty gash across his lovely cheek, before reigning down hell on the Wraith. This was especially jaw-dropping for me, since I had written a scene eerily similar, over a YEAR ago, in my NOS4A2 Series, and it was such a giddy, breathless joy, to see it all play out, exactly as I had imagined it!!! I loved how Vic gives Charlie his insisted upon thank you, after making her move, even though, yes, I was a little heartsick, seeing that impossibly perfect face so drastically marred. The warm, happy, fuzzy feel of Wayne's childhood memories, interspersed with the impassioned violence was yet another INSPIRED, and poignant stroke of brilliance, and in my opinion made the scene even more powerful and intense. It also inspired a fascinating theory....... That Wayne is a Strong Creative, that can speak through his memories telepathically to his mother. There are several instances in, "Bruce Wayne McQueen," where our adorable title character floods his mother's mind with happier times, and words of wisdom. Yes, Vic is a powerful Creative, and this could very well be her own doing, but as she's never been one for sentiment before, something tells me Wayne is speaking to her, calming her down, keeping her safe.

This episode is a masterwork of action and suspense, a transformative audience EXPERIENCE. You're in the Wraith with Charlie and Wayne, sitting on the edge of the backseat, you're treading water, traumatized with Vic, as the bullets whizz past you under the surface, flinching with every shot Bing fires, and you're pressed up against the window with Wayne, hands on the glass, as his mother sobs her devastated goodbye, promising to find him, her stricken eyes so full of love, knowing she has to leave him, if ever she'll have the chance to fight again. It's so beautifully executed, every shot, drawing us into our creative heroes' journey with immersive cinematography. It's unique to any other episode that has come before, and stands out as a groundbreaking method of emotional storytelling.

I must say this though....... This episode was as close to achingly perfect as you can get, right up there with Sleigh House, a MAGIC that I never EVER thought anything in my natural life could touch, but as much enamour as I feel, there were a few slightly detracting flaws. I absolutely LOVED the shifts between different points of view, it may be an unpopular opinion, but I thought that was another daring risk, that definitely paid off. My issue however, lies in the repeated events from one person's point of view to the next. I felt that the needless repetition slowed down the breakneck action, throwing a kink in the timeline. There were more than a few times where I was like WAIT, did that happen before or after what we've just seen!? I appreciate that they were trying to give us a new vantage point to what we'd just witnessed, maybe even belabor the moment for dramatic effect, but it ate up valuable runtime, and undercut the flow in my opinion, as well as shortchanged the suspense, knowing full well what was going to happen, because we'd already seen it from another character's point of view! How much better to show a scene from one perspective, and then jump right into the consequent action with the change to the next? How much MORE would we have gotten to see!?!? Had they done that, then this episode would have surpassed even Sleigh House, my ultimate ideal.

Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy getting to see what happened in the car with the boys, during Vic's ride through the woods. I LOVED how Charlie, ever the paternal guardian, was so taxed by Wayne's vehement cries, and frantic banging on the windows, that he says, in true exhausted parent fashion, "Please Wayne, just a small nap......" There were times that the rewind worked, but most times, I just wanted to get on with the story. Another grievance....... What the HELL are the Wraith's windows made of!? Yes, I understand that this is a supernatural, sentient car, but SERIOUSLY!!!! No amount of force, be it from a swung wrench, or slammed autopsy hammer, or SPEEDING bullet, could shatter even one of the Wraith's windows. Yes, I know it added to the suspense, watching both parents try desperately, and still fail to free their son, but it detracted from the reality, suspending my suspension of disbelief. They should have been able to at least break ONE!!!

I was also a tad bit disappointed with The Hour Glass Man, how about you guys? The way Abe set him up to be this heavy hitter, this "Fixer," in the Dark Creative World, I was so excited to see his knife and how it worked!!! At the beginning of the episode, our calm, sharply-dressed secondary villain, uses an hour glass, not to stop time, not to rewind time, not to alter time, but....... to hypnotize the two feds long enough to assault the lake house, SHOOTING Chris McQueen in the leg, before turning the gun on themselves. Yes, it was only our first look, and I'm sure our man of unsolved mystery has more than a few tricks up his ironed sleeves, he isn't in high demand for nothing, but....... as he was supposed to be Charlie's ace in the hole, I had prepared myself for something truly mind-boggling, something more than just compulsion, an everyday occurrence on The Vampire Diaries. Even in his second go at Vic, he pulls a Manx, and just hits her with his far less supernatural SUV. I knew something was up, the way Charlie didn't veer, and try to run Vic off the road as she pursued him on her new motorcycle, firing shots into the driver side window. He let her ride alongside him, so calm, and I KNEW he was leading her into a trap, and leading me straight into my second disappointment with The Hour Glass Man. I don't know, even though it got the job done, and landed her in the hospital, him hitting her with the SUV just felt....... underwhelming, which this episode is definitely NOT.

The hidden hero of "Bruce Wayne McQueen," is by far Chris Freaking McQueen, who has redeemed himself in my eyes through his fearless fight, both to stay sober for his daughter, and to keep her from losing her son. Not gonna lie guys, I was HORRIFIED, when I thought the Feds killed him at the beginning of the episode, and for the longest time after he got shot I was like DON'T you dare FREAKING kill Chris, oh god, is Chris dead!? A question to which there is no answer until nearly the end of the episode. Vic, still treading water underneath the dock, shakes violently as she hears the gunshots go off a little too close, and I, myself, was scared as HELL, thinking Bing was firing straight down, having discovered her. A horrible moment, as the blood falls thick from between the wooden slats of the dock, directly onto Vic's forehead. And then....... Chris Freaking McQueen, like a gun wielding white knight charges the sick BASTARD, Bing Partridge, shooting him repeatedly, although, to our collective chagrin, does not kill him!!! Seriously. Somebody gut that Creepster Pervert like a fish!!! Chris even takes on Charlie all by himself, firing at the Wraith, as it speeds off to my complete and utter delight WITHOUT Bing Partridge leaving him behind, FINALLY!!! You GO, Charlie, time to sever ties with that obnoxious deadweight.

Where this episode uncovers Charlie in his most heightened, dangerous state, raw and intense, Bing is portrayed at his detestable WORST, and my hatred for this hulking henchman was infinite. I HATE the way he is with Wayne, it literally made me sick to my stomach. Charlie is so sweet and gentle, paternal, and patient with our dear little Bats, doting upon him, and you can tell how excited he is to be his father, how this particular child, Vic's only son, is the second most important entry into Christmasland, after his own daughter. I'm still dyyyying from the way he said, "You and I have been dreaming about each other, haven't we?" How PRECIOUS!!! In counterpart, Bing is disgustingly abusive, grabbing him up off the ground, dangling him by his arm, threatening to shoot him, bite him, calling Wayne a, "pretty girl," (GOD, YOU SICKO!!!!) and I just couldn't stand it, I was so damn furious, I couldn't see straight, and I'm DONE with Bing, I want to put a hit out on that lewd, child abusing, BASTARD!!! It would seem Charlie is done with him too, leaving him behind to die, and I especially enjoyed that cleverly veiled threat in the car, Bing droning on and on about what he wants to do when he gets to Christmasland, and Charlie smirking with a coy mention of a special feast. Yeah...... I see what you did there, Babe. It's time to hang a Partridge, swinging from a pear tree.

Another thing I particularly loved about this episode, was that it had the unique symmetry of beginning and ending in the hospital, and in both instances, Wayne's birth, and the aftermath of his abduction, Vic loses him. Even as a newborn, after a harrowing C-section, Vic knows something is wrong, crying out to the nurses, as they do CPR on the tender little babe, and after only just bringing him into the world, Vic already has to face the threat of one without him. That was beautifully mirrored in the final, heartbreaking scene, when Vic, seeing her boyfriend, and father in hospital beds from her own, but no Wayne, realizes, with abject terror, her son is gone. Her worst fear, the ONE man she'd fought for eight years to protect him from, has taken him. BEAUTIFUL, heart-wrenching, devastatingly good acting from Ashleigh, the desolate sobs, as her mother holds her in her arms, the hopelessness, and fear in her eyes. It shattered me.

An all time high for NOS4A2, "Bruce Wayne McQueen," holds all the emotional drama, and high risk of a proper Season Finale, and we're only FIVE episodes in!!!! If it's THIS good, this early in the story, I can't even imagine what lays in wait, as the Wraith races away with a very special boy in tow. Hold on, Strong Creatives....... Our WILDEST dreams are about to come true.........

[torestoreamends]

Poetic Justice

3.1k words, G rated

When Albus discovers that Scorpius kept Delphi's wand, it reawakens painful memories and reopens wounds that have barely healed...

If you want someone to blame for this, @ohscorbus is your woman. 

Read it on AO3

*

Albus thought Delphi’s wand had disappeared. He hoped it was lost forever, lying in the shadows on a church floor in the distant past. It hadn’t been presented as evidence at the trial; someone had said it hadn’t been recovered. That had helped, knowing the object that was the cause of so much pain, that was used for murder and torture, was gone forever. So what is it doing here in the present, in the fourth year Slytherin dorm, lying in Scorpius’s top drawer?

It feels so unreal and out-of-place, sitting here in this bright room, in this space of perfect safety, and Albus stares at it in horror as he tries to comprehend what he’s seeing. The dark wood, fine grained with flecks of silver in the exact shade of her hair. The sharp tip, whittled into a cruel spike. The curved handle, almost too lovingly crafted, like one of her skin-crawling caresses.

Suddenly all the memories of a few months ago come crashing in on him at once. 

Scorpius’s screams cut through the darkness like a knife. Albus’s throat is raw with yelling his name. He can hear himself sobbing as he begs Delphi to stop. She throws him to the floor with a spell that feels like lightning and leaves his whole body crackling with pain. There’s a flash of green light and a rushing of wind in Albus’s ears. An unmoving body lies on the dew-drenched grass, and the weight of reality crushes Albus: one of his classmates is dead and it’s all his fault. 

He feels rough hands dragging him up off the ground and holding him fast. That wand, that ruthless instrument of evil, points right past him, grazing his cheek. When the spell comes and Scorpius convulses and collapses from the pain, Albus feels like he was the one who cast it. 

It’s all his fault. All of it. Scorpius writhing and gasping on the ground, Craig staring sightlessly up at the grey dawn sky, Cedric running into the shadows of the maze to meet his doom, the metal and glass raining down as she disappeared into the sky.

Darkness presses in from all sides, squeezing the air out of Albus’s lungs. The world has narrowed to a point even finer than the tip of that wand. There’s the polished oak of the drawer beneath his fingers, the ground somewhere a very long way beneath his feet, and there’s Delphi’s wand. That’s it. Nothing else. And Albus is being swallowed up by a crashing tsunami of horror and guilt and sheer, mind-numbing panic. 

“Have you got the Pepper Imps ready?” 

Scorpius’s voice sings out behind Albus, but he barely hears it. It doesn’t feel nearly as immediate and present as the past does. The memories are all right here, and Scorpius could be miles away. 

Albus grips the drawer as hard as he can for support. It’s the only thing that he knows is real and tangible. It’s solid, holding his weight even when his legs are shaking too much for him to stand. He bows his head and snatches at what little air he can get. His lungs are hollow and empty, his chest gets tighter and tighter, and he can hear his own desperate gasps, which mingle with the screams inside his head to create a horrible cacophony that drowns out everything else. 

“Albus,” Scorpius’s voice says out of the darkness. “What happened? Are you-“ 

Albus feels something brush against his arm, and then Scorpius’s voice falters. 

“Oh. Oh... I didn’t mean for you to... Merlin, Albus.”

Albus doesn’t know where the tears come from, but suddenly there are floods of them, hot and angry, constricting his throat and streaming down his face. Normally Scorpius’s presence would help, but today, Albus feels like he’s boiling over just from the sound of Scorpius’s voice. 

It’s impossible to get enough air to talk, so Albus’s voice comes out in a hoarse squeak. “Wh-why do you have- I don’t... understand.”

Scorpius curls his fingers round Albus’s arm. It’s the sort of touch that on any other day would centre Albus and bring him back to himself, but this time Albus hears the blood pounding in his ears as confusion and bewilderment well up inside him. 

“Albus...” Scorpius’s voice is trembling just slightly. “Y-you need to breathe. You look like you’re about to-“

“I’m fine!” Albus tears his arm out of Scorpius’s grip and stumbles away. His head is spinning but he can’t breathe and he can’t stop crying. Even when he closes his eyes he can still see the wand right there, pointing at Scorpius, about to unleash the sort of pain that no one should ever have to experience. 

“I-I just... don’t understand why you... why you kept it.” Albus gulps as a wave of desperate tears overcomes him, and he buries his face in his hands and sobs. 

“It was an accident, to start with.” Scorpius’s voice is still shaking and he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears too.

“An accident?” It comes out much louder than Albus meant it to, an incredulous snap of a question. 

“An accident,” Scorpius repeats. Despite the tremor in his voice he sounds calm and steady. “My dad handed it to me, so I put it in my pocket to give to someone later. But after that, everything happened so fast, and...”

Albus can see it all. The dual flashes of green light. Life extinguished right in front of his eyes. His dad collapsing to the ground and Albus going with him, clinging to him, his own desperate sobs shaking his body as he buries his face in his dad’s shoulder. 

He sinks onto the edge of the nearest bed as his legs give out, and he curls in on himself, bracing his hands on the mattress, head down, breaths coming in shuddering snatches that barely make it any deeper than his throat. The bed squeaks and dips beside him as Scorpius sits down too, then he feels a gentle brush of fingers against his arm. 

“Are you sure this is the right time to-“

Albus jerks his arm away. “Go on.”

Scorpius twists round and sits cross-legged next to him. Even out of the corner of his blurred vision, Albus can see that his eyebrows are knitted together with concern. 

“Well, like I said. It all happened so fast after that. Dad took me back to the Manor and I... I forgot. We had hot chocolate, and hugs, and it became the least important thing. I didn’t find it again until the day I got back here.”

“That... that was months ago,” Albus mutters. “You could have got rid of it. You should have-“

“I didn’t want to,” Scorpius says. He tries to make it sound light and airy, but it hits Albus like a train and his head flies up. 

“What?” He stares wildly at Scorpius, trying to understand what on earth he’s just said. 

Scorpius nods and twists his hands together. “I didn’t want to...” He spreads his hands then plants them on the bed next to him and starts fiddling with a crease in the blankets. 

“But...” Albus doesn’t know what to say so he stops speaking and concentrates on trying to breathe. It’s difficult to find a rhythm. He can’t inhale deeply enough to count himself through it. And he’s so perplexed by Scorpius that his mind keeps wandering back to panic-stricken bewilderment. It’s impossible.

For a second Scorpius messes with the blankets, then he draws in a breath. “I... realised that it reminded me of things.”

“Nothing good,” Albus interjects.

“Actually, you’re wrong.”

Albus sits back, staring at him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we survived, Albus. You survived. I survived. All that pain, the worst she could do, the worst that anyone can do, and we got through it.”

“But... But Craig... He didn’t...” Albus presses a hand to his chest and snatches a painful, rasping breath as he sees once again the body sinking gracefully to the ground and lying still. One second alive. The next, lifeless. 

Scorpius shifts over next to Albus and puts a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small, fast, comforting circles into his skin. “I know you feel guilty, but it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing more you could have done. You told him to run. You tried to save him.”

“But... But if I’d listened to you. Properly. We would have destroyed the Time-Turner alone, without telling anyone. Then he wouldn’t...” Albus closes his eyes and buries his face in Scorpius’s shoulder as more tears dribble down his cheeks. He’s trembling all over and he can’t seem to stop, but Scorpius wraps an arm round him and holds him tight, stroking his hair.

“I know,” Scorpius murmurs. “I know. But keep listening to me. We survived. We beat her, and now she can’t hurt anyone else.” He pulls back and Albus looks at him through a hazy sheen of tears. “You saved the world, Albus. You and that blanket. And whatever happened before that? We can’t change that — we tried that before and you know how well it went. But we can change the future. We can do whatever we want with that. It’s ours.”

“But you didn’t need to...” 

“Keep it?”

Albus nods and wipes his eyes. His breathing has eased a bit now. He’s still wheezing, but it feels as though there’s now some oxygen in the world. He can feel the blankets beneath his legs and the carpet under his feet. He unfolds one arm from across his chest and picks up a fistful of the blankets, letting the rough wool slide through his fingers. It reminds him that he’s safe. He’s in his dorm, with Scorpius, and the past is a very long way away. 

Scorpius gets up to give Albus more of the blanket, then perches back on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed beneath the other, picking at the toe of his sock. “It seemed like the right thing to do. To keep it. It felt...” He tilts his head to one side and thinks for a second. “It felt like... if I kept it she wouldn’t have any power over me anymore. What can she do if she doesn’t have a wand? It felt like I was keeping that bit of her that makes her anything at all. It makes me feel in control. Knowing that I’ve got her wand locked in a drawer with my sweets and my socks and my books.”

Albus cracks an unsteady smile. “Yeah, I don’t think she’d like that...”

“Exactly! Nothing’s scary after having had my smelly socks next to it.”

Albus wipes his nose on his sleeve and looks across at the drawer. “Can I see it?”

“You don’t want to see any of my socks, Albus.”

“No, no. The wand. Can I-?”

Scorpius hesitates. “Is that a good idea? Right now?”

Albus takes a shaky breath. “Of course not. When has anything I’ve ever done been a good idea? But I want to... It was a shock before. Seeing it. But I think I can handle it now.”

Scorpius looks doubtfully at him.

“I promise,” Albus insists. 

“I...” Scorpius twists his hands together, then he gets to his feet and goes over to the drawer. “If anything happens I’m putting it away again.”

“It won’t.”

Scorpius doesn’t look convinced but he reaches into the drawer anyway, as Albus braces himself, fingers twisted tight in the blanket. 

When Scorpius turns round, he’s holding the wand flat across both his palms. For all his talk of having power over it, there’s a reverence there that makes Albus’s skin crawl. He’s making it look like the dangerous magical object that it would be if Delphi still had her hands on it. 

“Stop that,” Albus snaps, shuddering. 

Scorpius pauses. “Stop what?”

“Holding it like that. Like it’s important.” He gets to his feet and goes over to Scorpius. “Give it to me?”

Scorpius holds it out to Albus, and Albus can’t fail to notice that his hands are shaking. 

“Why did you keep it? You don’t like it either.”

“I told you. Keeping it felt more- It would have been so easy to give it to the Ministry, and I don’t think Malfoy the Unanxious does the easy thing.”

Albus nods and swallows hard. “Can I...” He reaches out for the wand, and Scorpius draws his hands away an inch.

“Are you sure, Albus? It’s- it’s not nice to touch.”

“Positive,” Albus murmurs. 

Scorpius offers him the wand, palms open, free for Albus to take. Albus hesitates, working himself up to it. He screws his fingers into fists, squares his shoulders, then opens his hands and brushes his fingertips over the dark wood.

It’s slightly rough to touch; Albus had expected that. What he hadn’t expected were the waves of icy animosity rolling off the wand. It’s so cold his fingertips feel as though they’ve been burned and he pulls his hands away.

“It still feels...”

“I know. Isn’t it awful?”

Albus nods and stares down at the wand. “Scorpius... I get it. I know why you wanted it, but this...” He gestures to it and shakes his head. “This isn’t good.”

Scorpius’s shoulders slump. “Do you think I should hand it in? I can give it to McGonagall. She’d probably put me in detention for about a year, but then it would be safe at least.”

“No.” Albus frowns at the wand. “No, I don’t think you need to get rid of it. But we should make sure it can never be used again. Do you agree?”

Scorpius gives him a curious look. “What do you suggest?”

Albus reaches out and hovers his hands over the wand. “How attached to this are you?”

Scorpius shrugs. “She hurt you with it too. I’d say you have as much right to do whatever you want with it as I do. What are you thinking?”

Albus doesn’t say anything, but as he looks down at the dark, cruel spike of the wand that has hurt and haunted them for so long, he feels a flash of defiant fire run through him. He doesn’t need to ask to know that this is the right thing to do.

Steeling himself, he takes the wand in both hands. The malevolent chill bites his fingertips but he ignores it, tightening his grip and gritting his teeth. 

It takes quite a bit of force, but Albus isn’t concerned about being gentle. He’s fuelled by months of anger and pain. This thing was complicit in the murder of one of his classmates and the torture of his best friend. There’s nothing that it deserves other than destruction.

The break, when it comes, isn’t clean. Jagged edges and splinters are left behind. The core inside stays connected, sparking like it wants to defend itself from attack. It gives Albus great pleasure to keep twisting, like he’s wringing the neck of some sort of brutal beast, until finally the delicate shaft of the black feather snaps with a puff of ice cold wind and a crackle of futile magic. 

Albus grins down at it, chest heaving with the glory of vindication.

“Poetic justice.”

“You... you snapped it!” Scorpius gasps. 

“Just like she did to ours. Here.” Albus holds one half out to him. “One for you and one for me.”

“I-I can’t believe you... Albus!” Scorpius gives a hysterical giggle as he reaches out to take the half of the wand that Albus is holding out for him. 

“Do you think it was the wrong thing to do?” Albus asks, inspecting his half, then tossing it up in the air and catching it again. It’s so diminished in its two halves. It’s nothing now. 

“No.” Scorpius shakes his head. “No, but. Merlin!”

“You said it looked powerless before, and now it is. It can’t do anything. Even if she came and tried to steal it back or something. It can’t hurt you or me o-or anyone ever again.” Albus can’t stop staring at the fragment of wand in his hand, and he finds emotion welling up inside him. He hadn’t thought he had any tears left, but suddenly here they are, clogging up his throat again, blurring his vision, spilling down his cheeks more quickly than he can wipe them away. 

“You’re safe,” Scorpius says softly, and he’s right there, wrapping his arms around Albus and drawing him into a tight hug. 

“I-I know,” Albus mumbles into his shoulder. “So are you.”

There’s a moment in which Scorpius silently rubs his back, then he pulls away, brushing a hand down Albus’s arm. “Thank you.”

Albus sniffs and tries to swipe his tears away with the cuff of his hoodie. “‘S alright. Sorry for yelling at you.”

Scorpius shakes his head. “I should have told you. I shouldn’t have let you find it like that. I hope you’re okay.”

Albus inhales, and it feels like some of the weight has lifted off his chest. His legs are weak enough that he doubts they’ll hold him up much longer, his face hurts from crying, and he feels exhausted to the core, but at least he knows now that neither of them can be hurt by this ever again.

“I think so,” he says. “Just about. A-although I think I could do with those Pepper Imps now?”

Scorpius nods. “Pepper Imps. And a nice long sleep.”

“I don’t think I know any other kind,” Albus says, smiling through his tears. 

Scorpius grins and pats him on the arm, then bounces over to the chest of drawers. He puts his fragment of wand next to his socks in the top drawer and grabs the sweets from the bottom drawer, while Albus tucks his fragment into his trunk to deal with later. 

The world feels a great deal brighter as they collapse onto Scorpius’s bed together and curl up side-by-side. Scorpius opens the Pepper Imps and Albus tries to match his breathing to the steady, calm rise and fall of Scorpius’s chest. It’s difficult when Scorpius is talking at a million miles an hour and they’re both laughing so much, but that doesn’t matter.

The dorm is warm and bright. Danger is a very long way away. And Albus can’t help but feel that maybe Scorpius is right. They have all the power over the past. It’s never going to come back to hurt them, especially not after what they’ve just done. All they have to worry about now is the future, but that’s a problem for another day.

[sparkles-and-trash]

more older South Park kids headcanons

trash note: please, take this as an apology for the fact that I’ve abandoned ya’ll a bit lately! I hope to have the next Clandestine part up by Sunday, and I’ll be back to a normal schedule next week. Also, this is a mess, but it’s what a lot of you wanted! 

- TALL TWEEK, TALL TWEEK! (in courtesy of @artistictea) 

-or you know, at least “taller than Craig, Tweek”

- like, imagine Craig hit his end height pretty early and was used to being the tallest of his peers, and suddenly Tweek has a late growth spurt and he’s suddenly taller than him and neither of them knows how to deal with it, practically when it comes to kissing and cuddling and ya know ;))) 

- I’ve said it before, but Butters is a bi boooy change my mind 

- one of the main reasons the other bothers with Cartman trough middle school, when he is at his worst, is because of his big basement, the old Coon Lair, who got a big renovation around 7th grade and is an awesome, private hangout spot with a big TV and wifi and gaming systems

- dw, he still gets his reality check the day even Kenny and Butters, who usually have more patience with him, finally ditch him completely 

- Butters put up with Cartman for so long because he genuinely thinks he can be fun when he’s not horrible, and he really tries his best to believe in people 

- Kenny did because he deep down feels a little bad for Cartman, he’s def the one of his friends and peers who has the most insight when it comes to trauma and the effect of his upbringing and stuff, and he has a deep need to try to understand people the best he can 

- speaking of my boys, Butters did have a pretty huge crush on (a very unaware) Kenny during middle school, but then they started hanging out a lot more and became really close and Butters didn’t really bring it much thought  - that’s until Cartman gets jealous and throws out a “what are you guys dating and fucking and being gay huh???” and Butters mind immediately goes to “omg ew no he’s like my brother!” 

- aaand that’s how Butters realized he was over his crush 

- they stay close friends tho, Kenny makes Butters laugh and helps him be more sure of himself and Butters helps Kenny remember that they’re still just kids and should have fun and be good 

- I’m sorry but Wendy and Bebe starts dating late in high school and is a huge ass power couple 

- Wendy is openly pan and gender fluid by then and while Bebe is pretty popular with the boys, she never really showed that much interest in anyone, so when they start dating not that many people are surprised except Clyde who cried for a week because he was sure the were “endgame” 

- just picture Token’s face when Clyde chokes out the word “endgame”, totally serious, between heart wrenching sobs 

- so done 

-while his friends and classmates loves the perks of his wealth, Token feels bad about it a lot, he has a tendency to get a little down about the world and it’s unfairness 

- he works with a lot of charities and is a volunteer and both the pet shelter, the homeless shelter and the children ward of the hospital, and he really, genuinely loves doing it 

- sometimes his friends join him, but not that much as they’re all pretty busy 

-but he started running into Stan and Kenny at both the pet shelter and homeless shelter a lot. as Stan is a huge animal rights lover and Kenny genuinely likes helping both people and animals, and they start becoming better friends because of this, eventually brining the two groups closer together 

- Kyle’s a little reluctant and jealous at first, but in the end he realizes he and Tweek like a lot of the same games and shows and quickly forget about being wary of the other gang 

- while they all hang out a lot, in the end they are still Stan’s gang and Craig and Those Guys at heart 

- and that’s okay 

- Jimmy and Stan bond over their interest in writing in an English class Freshman year 

- however, Jimmy generally writes a lot of comedy and satirical pieces, while Stan is very into the more Lovecraftian stuff, mixed with steampunk fantasy and a lot of dark poesy and at first Jimmy is a little taken aback and worried because of that

- but he learns that writing is Stan’s way of dealing with the dark thoughts and feelings, and is generally doing pretty darn good 

- however, whenever Stan has a bad day or week, Jimmy or Kyle is always the first two people to notice and do something because of that 

- Kenny doesn’t necessarily wear that much female targeted clothes anymore, just the occasional floral printed hoodie etc as hoodies is literally all he wears, but he still really like it and the older he gets, the more he gets into fashion and design and stuff 

- he starts drawing a lot more, which he is okay at already, and he’s obsessed with couture fashion, even tho he think the pricing of the clothes and the fact that they’re only made for tall, think models are ridiculous 

- he secretly dreams of making those types of clothes for all types of people, rich, poor, boys, girls, gender fluids, non-binary, tall, short, thin, thick, you know, just a very all inclusive type of thing 

- if any one of these kids become a jock, it’s def Kyle with his basketball change my mind

- but not like, a letterman wearing fuckboy type of jock, but like, is obsessed with his sport and his team and works really hard to do well type of jock 

- in Craig and Tweeks relationship, Craig is totally the whipped one, he knows it, Tweek knows it, everyone knows it, and Craig does not give one single fuck about it 

- he just really loves and adores his boyfriend and if that’s a problem people can go and fuck themselves :) 

[blxebxy-spxcemxn]

SO HERE’S THE IDEA’S THAT ME AND @stcrmclcud got done

Some sort of game,, idk yet,,, doesn’t know their inside one

Different problems for each character (Missing parts, glitching parts, + parts they don’t need ect )

Idk why but. Stan as some kind of stitched Frankenstein’s Monster-esque furry.

Just. a fucking DOG with different parts. And it’s Stan.

Kenny has,,, skeleton bits MAybe,,

Cartman cld have like. An error or glitch on one of his eyes, kind of in reference to the many theories that he has Kenny’s eye??

Sobs idc if my girl heidi isnt in the au but. If she is. Flowers. She’s just covered in flowers. Any blemishes she has. Flowers.

Craig possibly is rather glitches out around the eye and a few other spots around his body

Frozen @ some point in the game and can not pass that said part

Missing File.exe

Missing background in some places, that and or rather glitched up and hard to see

Moments of g l itching,,,

Are. Are we allowed to let Ken pull a sans and know they’re in a fucking game bc his file keeps getting more and more corrupted (hence his body having skeleton bits; he rots more and more after it gets corrupted). He warns everyone so they cld do something abt it bc eventually he will fade away or disappear.

Tweek’s voice is fucked up, possibly has a third eye behind all his hair

RANDY IS NOT IN THIS AU,, His file was deleted a whole while back due to him knowing too much and yada yada, No randy

Kyle probably doesn’t have a mouth lol,, Its more glitched than anything

Butters missing his eye’s, blind boy

“LETS PLAY”

Creek? In my au?? NO THANK YOU

SOBS

Token probably doesn’t exist sorry,,

Jimmy has no legs sadly,, Missing in his files

Very tempted to make eric behind the whole thing

He probably is honestly,,

Tbh i really like the idea of Eric having alters, and since this is more of a glitch kinda game? He cld shapeshift into them. Mitch Conner, the more prominent one, is just a bald guy with the SAME eye glitch as eric.

Gotta add scott tenorman to the game because I love him, Possibly half human half robot type shit

Clyde ….. Died, more than likely, Possibly before the glitched happen, causing Craig to be more bumbbed out then usual...Craig probably wears his Jacket

I want Jimmy,,,, to wear Token’s sweater around his waist. Bc now that you mention it, the same thing cld happen to Token too :0

Fuck I think the idea of the characters all looking super surreal pre-corruption, kinda like the npcs of Yume Nikki- i just. Gfdnmmbhfbhghg pls. hOLD ON LEMME JUST-

KINDA LIKE THEM. wait im gonna send a clearer version to you in dms

Lots of secrets, lots of secrets,,,

What if, like in ddlc, Cartman cld put shit in ur game files. Or the characters cld.

A lot of it is just. Cries for help.

Insert a drawing kenny made of himself (skeleton with a fucking 2 foot dong) and the rest is just. Crass handwriting saying “PLEASE HELP ME I’LL DIE AT THIS RATE” or smth.

The game has a dark sense to it, not having very much lighting, the ora around the whole place is dark and mostly everyone isn’t so happy

Cartman thought the place was a little TOO happy so that’s why he probably did it, wanting full control over the whole place and by that he’d need to make the town dark and shit so they’d throw out the mayor and that.

Most of the girl’s files are missing, but everyone knows them….you just can’t see them

Oof to reference Heidi’s “quitting [twitter]”,,, whenever Heidi’s mentioned the words ‘Quitter’ appear so it’s a rule that no one talks about her.

What im trying to say is she voluntarily deleted her own file.

SHE KILLED HERSELF, MAN.

Craig is more emotionless than ever

RUBY?? IDK HER. KAREN ETHER

Everyones just DEAD MAN.

Idk how it happened theyre just gone.

Eric ‘ the hacker ‘ Cartman

Cartman you Big Blubbery Bitch

Sometimes really high pitched screaming happens but everyones used to it so its okay

Part of why theyre used to it is because tweek screams at the same pitch as the other ringing screams so they cant tell

What if at

Eric probably got Heidi to help him delete everyone’s Files, Possibly blackmailing her with someone of some sorts ( idk rn ) and forced her to delete files and that’s when she also deleted herself not going to be able to stand knowing she did it

If craig or kenny or either one says her name enough the writing “please don’t. I don’t wanna come back” will be written among a bunch of “quitters” overlapping and making this big fucking patch of whatevers. A conversation can probably be initiated from there.

Only Craig and kenny remember Heidi

The game probably disappears after a while because of so many files being deleted the game won’t run properly and will be forced to shut down...aka ALL FILES are deleted. So MC or NEW KID has to fix that?? And stop Cartman bringing everyone back ( But clyde cause he died before the glitch )

It all looks like peaches and cream at first (the scenery), esp while new kid roams through, and then they meet the first character and their monstrous appearances.

Wld this game be in FIRST person or third like the south park games,,

Third person

clyde glitches in and out of the world but since his file is gone. dead. destroyed for good and it really fucks with craig's mind bc he shouldn't even be here

OOOOO WHAT IF THE NEW KID CLD CHOOSE THEIR DESIGN LIKE IN THE OTHER GAMES

But you CANT be normal looking.

So like. Theres animal bits ummmmmm glitches,,,, your SKIn can be like. Really fucky.

Some characters don’t even have color to them, their just bland gray’s whites and blacks

If by chance bebe is in there,,, she probably has eyes all over her. In reference to people looking at her. Looking at her for too long results in a jumpscare of her shaking in tears and the words “PLEASE DON’T LOOK AT ME” appearing for like a split second. This is more likely to happen if you’re not engaging in conversation with her. (FUCK YES)

Kenny’s a filthy BODY PART THIEF

He steals ppls limbs so like he has his own skeleton-ish arms and then like four other ones

New kid having the option to hurt the people they meet

And Craig’s just like ‘ Nope ‘,, You choose the wrong people to hurt and Criag’s gonna get cha

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 6)

Description : On their last morning on La Huerta, the Catalysts work out a plan to get Alodia safely home. 

CW : There’s a scene that involves torture this chapter. 

Tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know. 

Chapter Six : Operation Perseus

Alodia

A prison chamber. Two rooms. One is an interrogation room, the other a cell with a cot and a plain, functional toilet and sink of stainless steel. Between them, a heavy locked door and an observation window of thick glass. I huddle in the corner of the cell, dressed in a dull gray jumpsuit. My head is swimming. Rourke has taken my friends. He's taken them and hidden them from me and no one will tell me if they're safe. Faceless Arachnid soldiers come in from time to time to hold me down and draw my blood, and then they leave. I am fed, but I can't eat much. When I eat, half of it comes back up again into the stinking stainless steel toilet.

The door to the interrogation room opens. I close my eyes, curling in on myself. I don't want to see who it is. But then I hear a familiar voice.

“My god! Father, what have you done to her?!” Aleister cries. There is real distress in his voice, and that startles me enough to make me look up. The last I saw of Aleister, he was betraying us, turning us over to his father. Now he looks at me through the observation window and he looks like he might cry. Rourke and Lila are with him.

“She is resistant. She doesn't understand yet what needs to be done, nor how essential a role she plays.”

“So you've tortured her?!”

“I have done nothing of the sort!”

“One of your minions, then?”

“No one has tortured her, Aleister,” Rourke snaps, sounding irritated.

“Let me in!”

“Of course, my boy,” Rourke sighs, rolling his eyes. “It's why we're here.”

I hear the door unlock. Reflexively, I recoil, pulling myself more tightly against the wall. Aleister hurries toward me, though he mercifully pauses a few feet away. He kneels slowly, holding his hand out to me as if I am a stray kitten he is trying to coax out from under a bush. I probably look like one, dusty and dirty as I am, with my hair tangled and matted.

“Alodia? It's all right. We're not here to hurt you.”

I stare at him through a dirty curtain of tangled blonde hair that falls over my face. I shouldn't trust him. He's the reason I'm in this cell. But his voice is so gentle, and I am so desperate for a kind, familiar face that I find myself drawing a little closer. I cough a little. My lips are dry and cracking, and when I move them to speak, they hurt, and I can taste blood.

“...Water...” I croak. “Please...”

Aleister rushes away, returning a moment later with a canteen. He opens it and holds it out to me. I snatch it from his hand and gulp the contents. Water fills my mouth and trickles out the sides as I chug, but I don't care. When the canteen is empty, I let it fall from my hands, curling back into the corner.

“Alodia...” he whispers. “I'm sorry. Please believe me. I'm so sorry.”

“Where are the others? Are they all right?”

“...I...don't know...”

I raise my eyes to meet his. “Where is Grace?”

His mouth twists with agony. “...Dead.”

The word lands on me like a physical blow. I recoil further. “...You're lying.”

“...Do you really imagine I would lie about that? It was a virus. Something native to this island. She had to be placed in quaratine, I couldn't even...” His voice breaks. “...Father says you could undo it...”

“...What?”

“The power we have discovered in you in unparalleled. Only the Endless itself is nearly as strong,” Rourke says. “All we need is for you to allow us to unlock your power and you can turn back the clock. Save Grace. Save anyone you wish. Save the world.” “...I don't believe Grace would thank me for that.”

“Alodia, please,” Lila begs. “Just hear him out.”

I shake my head hard. “I can't, Lila! He can't be trusted!” I look desperately at Aleister. “He's playing you, Aleister, just like he always is! Do you really think all he wants is to bring Grace back?!”

“I think he can do it! That's all that matters!”

“At what cost, though?! If I give him whatever power is inside me, what will he do with it? Come to think of it, what will it do to me to give it up?!”

That actually seems to give him pause. He looks back at Rourke. “...Father...?”

“You have my word, Alodia. You will come to no harm.”

I consider for a moment, only for a moment. Then, I shake my head. “No. Last time you gave your word, we lost Craig. Now Grace is gone, too. I'm not losing anyone else on your word!”

Aleister recoils from me now, tears dripping from his anguished eyes. Lila suddenly looks fearful. Rourke, however, regards me with pitying amusement.

“Oh, Alodia...do you still not realize that my word is all that is protecting you or your friends here? One way or another, you are going to see reason.” He clasps his hands behind his back, striding to the observation window. “But I grow impatient waiting. Perhaps it is time I raise the stakes. ...Lila. Which of the Selected do you believe Alodia is closest to?”

I look up sharply, feeling my breath catch in my throat. My heart goes cold and drops like a stone into my belly. Lila, noticing my distress, swallows hard. But she averts her eyes and answers, “Diego. Or Jake. Diego is her best friend and Jake is her lover.”

“And which do you believe could persuade her faster?”

Lila keeps her eyes firmly on the wall in front of her. “Diego. He is more dependent on her, and much less resilient than Jake. Much less in his element. Jake has a military history. He'll be much more resistant to torture.”

The last word goes through me like a knife. “No...” I whimper. “Rourke, please...”

Rourke ignores me. “Mmm. Interesting. Do you agree, Aleister?”

I look desperately at Aleister, but he will not meet my eyes now, either. “...Not necessarily. It is true that Jake has been conditioned to resist torture more. But Diego is in love with a Hostile. I believe that will strengthen his resistance.”

“Aleister!” I cry. “What the hell are you doing, you bastard?!”

“Very interesting,” Rourke murmurs, smirking. “I expect either would work. But...I have felt Commander Lundgren growing restless of late. Perhaps I will throw him a bone. Lila, call him in. Tell him to bring Jake McKenzie with him. He should be prepared.”

“No!” I try to go for Lila, but in my weakened state, Rourke is easily faster. His arm whips around and slams into my belly, knocking the wind out of me and sending me sprawling backward. I lay moaning, struggling to catch my breath.

“The longer you resist,” Rourke says flatly, “The more they will suffer.”

I slowly drag myself upright, gasping. As I raise my head, I see the door to the interrogation room open on the other side of the window. Lundgren enters with two Arachnid soldiers who drag Jake between them, shackled hand and foot.

“Jake!” My voice comes out strangled and distorted. His head snaps up and his eyes widen. He starts to struggle against the soldiers who hold him fast.

“Alodia!” He turns his furious gaze on Rourke. “What have you done to her, Phony Stark?! I swear to god if you've harmed one hair on her head--”

Lundgren cuts him off with a violent backhand. “Shut up, Wolf. She ain't the one you ought to be worried about.”

“You ought to be more worried about yoursel—oof!” A punch to the gut makes him crumple to his knees. The Arachnid soldiers hold him down as Lundgren kneels in front of him, drawing a switchblade. He cuts open Jake's shirt, exposing his chest. Then he takes the cigar from his mouth and presses the smoldering end to the bare skin under Jake's collarbone. He goes rigid with the pain, screaming, and I scream with him. Rourke finally pulls the cigar back and Jake slumps, trembling. From his pocket, Rourke fishes a small, metallic device. Jake gasps in agony as Lundgren presses the device against the blistering burn. It sticks.

“Let 'im go,” Lundgren orders the two soldiers. Jake scrambles to his feet and stumbles to the window, pressing his palm against mine through the glass.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head frantically. “Jake, get out of here. You have to get out. You and all the others have to get out now!”

“I ain't leaving you. Pretty sure the others will say the same.”

“Jake, please! I think they're going to kill you! Please, just run!”

“If you seriously think I'm gonn—augh!” He cuts himself off with a scream, doubling over and crumpling into a heap.

“Jake!”

“Don't kill him just yet, Commander,” Rourke says silkily when the screaming stops for a moment. “I want to see if our most honored guest can be made to understand her power without further loss of life.”

“Princess, whatever he's asking for, don't give hi--” Another protracted scream that I answer with my own. There's a device in Lundgren's hand. It must be connected to the one on Jake's chest. They're torturing him with it. He abruptly goes limp, gasping and trembling.

“Jake! Jake, stay with me! Please, stay with me!”

“I do not wish to kill him, Alodia. I do not wish to kill him, or your friend Diego, or any of them. But I will. If that is what it takes to make you understand.”

Jake's back rends, his muscles going rigid with agony. He's trying not to scream now, but he isn't succeeding. I throw myself against the glass, beating the window with my fists. He goes limp again, whimpering. I look desperately at Aleister, my vision blurred with tears.

“Aleister, please...he's your friend...how can you watch this?!”

“You could save him. You could save Grace. You could save Craig. You could save everything.”

Lundgren's hand moves again. More screaming that goes through my like a knife. I double over, my body spasming with sobs. I can't tell how long it goes on. The crescendo of screaming that fades into whimpers and moans. And then the voices floating on top of Jake's pained weeping. Rourke. Aleister. Lila. Asking. Begging. Demanding that I give him my power. I could stop this. I could save Jake. Grace and Craig are dead, but I could save them, too. It breaks me to see him suffering. Breaks through my resistance, my misgivings.

“...Please...please, I'll do anything. Just stop hurting him...”

“Good. Good girl,” Rourke purrs. “You'll see. It will all work out for the best. Commander, kill him.”

“No!” I scream. Suddenly, Aleister and Lila are screaming with me.

“Father, you can't!”

“Mr. Rourke, you said--”

“I can't risk her changing her mind. If she ever does, the Dog will be next.”

“Jake!” I press myself desperately against the window, smacking my palms against the glass. “Jake!”

Lundgren draws a pistol and aims it at the man crumpled on the floor. Jake's eyelids flutter, and he raises his gaze to mine. His expression twists with agony.

“...Don't I even get a few last words?”

Lundgren shrugs. “Why the hell not. Make it quick.”

Jake's eyes hold mine. “...I love you, Alodia. You're gonna make it. You're stronger than anyone I've ever known. ...Look away now, okay? You don't wanna see this.”

“No...Jake, don't leave me...I need you...”

He draws in a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. “...Malfoy, if you still care about her at all, you won't let her watch this part.”

Lundgren raises his pistol again. Aleister breaks away from his father's side to pull me away from the window and turn me toward him. He clasps me hard in his arms, holding my head firmly against his shoulder. I should struggle. I want to struggle. I want to beat on him and tear at him. But as the gunshot splits the air apart, I can only cling back, sobbing brokenly in the arms of the one who brought me to this moment...

… I wake with a gasp and find myself sweating and shaking in a hammock under Elyys'tel's sheltering branches, entwined in Jake's arms. He's snoring just a little, his head nestled against my shoulder. I shake him gently.

“Jake? Jake, wake up...”

“Huh...? Whasshamup...?” He grunts, clearing his throat. His eyes focus on my face. “Are you okay?”

“I had a bad dream...”

“Yeah?” he asks around a yawn. “What was it about?”

“...A timeline when I failed.”

That seems to bring him around to full consciousness. His arms tighten around me. “...You wanna tell me what happened?”

“...I think...Rourke figured out that he needed me to finish Project Janus. I don't think he actually connected me to the Endless. I'm not sure if he had the Island's Heart...I couldn't really remember. ...But he tried to force me to help him. ...By torturing you in front of me. Or rather, letting Lundgren do it.”

I feel him shudder. “Not gonna lie. That sounds damned awful. ...Lundgren always had a talent for inflicting pain.”

“...I gave in to stop him from hurting you. ...Rourke let him kill you anyway. So I wouldn't change my mind about turning back time. Said if I ever did, Diego would be next. And Grace and Craig were already dead...”

He brings a hand up to stroke my cheek. “But they're not, though. We're all alive because of you.”

“I know. ...But...I'm scared.”

“Something in particular scaring you?”

I close my eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. “...I failed more than two-thousand times. The visions in the idols...the ones the Endless gave me...those were only a fraction. I'm afraid of those memories that haven't surfaced yet. ...I'm scared I'm going to keep seeing you die in my nightmares. You and Diego and Quinn and Grace and Sean and Craig and...everyone...”

“Well, I'll tell you what, Princess. Every time you have a nightmare, I'm gonna be there when you wake up to tell you it's okay. No matter how many times you dream about me dying, I'm still gonna be there when you wake up.”

“...Promise?”

“You know I do.”

I cuddle up in his arms, my head on his chest. In his embrace, my trembling subsides and my heartbeat slows. “I love you so much, Jake.”

“I love you, Alodia.”

“...I think, though...when we get back, we should make it clear that our marriage wasn't legally binding.”

“Why's that? You looking for an easy out?”

The teasing note in his voice makes me think he knows the real answer, but I tell him anyway. “If we tell people we were handfasted in local ceremony, they'll start asking questions about who the locals are. Better they think it was something our friends oversaw when we were imprisoned and convinced we were about to die. ...Besides...I think I'm going to need time to...ease my aunt and uncle into the idea of you. They'll be less resistant if I introduce you as my boyfriend than as my husband. I don't think they'll believe that I could have met you and fallen in love with you in the space of six months.”

“I would say I don't give a crap what they think, but I'm guessing it's not gonna be easy to shake 'em for awhile.”

“I wouldn't imagine so, no.” I lift my head to look him in the eye. “Are you gonna be okay coming with me to California? I mean, I assumed, but...”

“Don't worry about me. I've been working in a dive bar in Louisiana. They can replace me two seconds after I call 'em and say I ain't coming back.” I open my mouth to respond, but he puts a finger to my lips. “No, don't try arguing. I don't care where we end up, long as we're together. You know that.”

I nod, lightly biting his fingertip before letting my head drop onto his chest again. “Yeah. I do.”

“...On the other hand,” he says with a grin in his voice, “I should take care to be on my best behavior, since this is officially gonna be...'meet the family'...”

I chuckle, but I shake my head. “You already know my real family. ...In a way, I'm going to be meeting these people for the first time, too. I have enough memories to know who they are, but I also know that they probably never existed until I was retconned into the world. Or at the very least, I was never a part of their lives...And I should try to stop thinking about this because it just makes me dizzy.”

“Tell you what. Why don't you tell me what you remember about them? Moments from your childhood. Your teenage years. Might make them more real to you.”

I shudder. “...Most of what I remember of my teenage years isn't very pleasant. Especially from Uncle Rob.”

He brings up a hand to stroke my hair. “Yeah?”

I nod. “...I was Aunt Molly's sister's kid. She was the one who really pushed him to agree to adopt me because she didn't want to give up her dead sister's kid to the state. She didn't want kids any more than he did, but she couldn't let go of the last piece of her sister so easily. ...He tried to hide it, but I know he resented me for pushing into his life. Much more than she ever did. It wasn't so bad when I was a kid, but when I turned into a sullen teenager, things got worse.”

“I can imagine you weren't the kind of teenager who just locked herself in her room as soon as she got home from school and spent her free time listening to emo music.”

“Not at all. Diego was the good kid who never made trouble. Or he wouldn't have ever made trouble if it weren't for me. With Aunt Molly and Uncle Rob gone on business so much of the time, we ended up with the whole place to ourselves a lot. ...The other night, he and I were talking about the time I convinced him to come over and raid my uncle's liquor cabinet with me.”

“Dare I ask how old you were?”

I feel a smile playing around my mouth. “Fifteen.”

He whistles. “Wow. You were the wild one, weren't you.”

“...I guess I made Diego do all the things he was too afraid to do alone.” I feel my smile slipping. “...I think about that night, and I kinda wonder if he wouldn't have been better off without me...”

I feel Jake's arm tighten over my shoulder. “What happened that night that makes you say that?”

“We got completely shitfaced on Kahlua. When the hangovers hit the next morning, we huddled under the blankets in my room for two days, convinced we were going to die. Then a few days after that, Uncle Rob and Aunt Molly came home. And when Uncle Rob realized the Kahlua was missing a few days later...I...” I close my eyes, curling into him. “...Well, let's just say I wore pretty heavy concealer for a week or two.”

“...Aw, shit...”

“...That...probably makes it sound worse than it was...”

“He laid hands on you, that's bad enough. I'm guessing he and I ain't gonna get along.”

“He had never done it before. Never did again.”

“He never will again. ...But...except for a nasty hangover, it doesn't sound like Diego suffered much for knowing you that night.”

“...No. I took the whole blame for the missing Kahlua. I ran to Diego that night and told him the bruise was because I swiped a twenty from Uncle Rob's wallet. ...I'd done it before, so he believed me.” I sigh. “...And...that night we got drunk was the night he came out to me. ...I suppose when I didn't exist, he didn't have anyone he could come out to...”

“Wanna know what I think?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you're the friend he always wished he had because that's the kind of friend he always needed. He made it as far as he did in another timeline because he's strong. But now, he didn't always have to be strong. He had someone there to protect him when he was bullied, someone he could be honest with. And when he did have to be strong, he was being strong for you. Because your bastard of an uncle beat up on you, or...someone broke your heart. ...Don't you think a hideous hangover at fifteen was worth the chance to come out to someone who would tell him there was nothing wrong with him?”

“...Yeah. Probably. ...It was everyone's need plus Vaanu's energy that first created me. I was born to be what all of you needed me to be.”

“And now all of us are gonna be what you need us to be. Shit, Princess, do you even have any idea what you mean to us? Not just me and Diego, but every one of us? Raj and Zahra and Aleister and all of them?”

“...If they love me half as much as I love all of them...” I swallow hard. I think of my dream, of Aleister turning me away so that I wouldn't see Jake die, that small act of genuine love and kindness in spite of his betrayal.

“They love you just as much as you love them, if not more. We're gonna take care of you, Princess. We're your family, and we're all gonna stand by you. Don't you doubt it.”

Diego

After blissfully making love, I fall asleep under the moonlight in Varyyn's arms, the warm tropical breeze caressing my bare, sweat-slick skin. In the arms of my one true love, knowing my best friend is safe with her husband within easy reach, I feel more contented than I think I have ever felt in my life.

The next day, I watch Allie, Sean, and Jake team up against Seraxa, Varyyn, and Taari in quuk'tanoi, and I remember the day the twelve of us first arrived on La Huerta, that first night at The Celestial. La Huerta felt like a paradise then. Today, it feels like one again.

Allie's team presents a strong challenge. Rusty though they may be, the three of them really are a dream team when it comes to anything competitive like this. They manage to score two points before the Vaanti team scores one. But then the tides start to turn. The Vaanti overpower them, and Taari himself scores the winning goal.

Nightfall finds us proudly watching as Seraxa presents her foster son and heir with his owl mask in an elegant ceremony. As the crowd cheers the Vaanti's newest, youngest warrior, Taari beams at them from behind the mask. I look at Varyyn beside me and notice his eyes are shining.

“You okay?”

“...He is still so young. It is difficult to imagine him going into battle.”

I lace my fingers with his. “There's not much to battle these days on La Huerta.” I lay my head on his shoulder and feel him squeeze my hand.

“Long may peace reign.”

“Amen.”

“...We have peace because of Alodia.” Varyyn raises his eyes skyward. “...My mind is still connected to hers.”

“It is?”

“Yes. She believes there is nothing significant in it. That it simply means we are who we are, each of us with a connection to Vaanu, and that our joining minds on the beach has not been undone.”

“Well...that all makes sense.”

He sighs, looking down again. “...She is troubled. Frightened. Confused.”

“Unfortunately, I'm not surprised,” I murmur. “I may not be mind-melded with her, but I know her. Besides, anyone would be troubled and confused in her situation.”

“You are right, of course.”

But his words stay with me. I find myself watching Allie for the rest of the night. When I finally sleep, my dreams are a bizzare collection of moments that all kind of lead back to the same conclusion: Allie needs my support. She's broken and bewildered, and she needs familiar faces beside her.

The following day is our last full day on La Huerta before we return to our lives. As we're finishing breakfast, I clear my throat.

“Hey, guys, I think we should talk about the logistics of getting everyone home now that we've got Allie back.”

“What do you mean?” Craig asks.

“Well, normally Jake flies us all back to London so Varyyn doesn't have to worry about security or anything like that. And I know you guys all fly home from there.”

“...Is that not going to work this time?”

“No,” Jake murmurs. “...Alodia may have an ID and passport somewhere out there, but we ain't gonna find it in time to get her a commercial flight back to the states from London. If we land in London first, I'm gonna have to fly her home myself. Which I could do...”

“The thing is...” I take a deep breath, covering Varyyn's hand with mine. “Varyyn, you know I love you and I never want to be without you. But I can't leave Allie right now. I know more about the world she's going to be transitioning back to than anyone else. Maybe even more than you yourself, Allie.”

She shrugs. “Probably. ...I wasn't going to say it, but I'm terrified of facing it without you.”

“I would not dream of asking you to separate right now,” Varyyn assures me. “I can survive without you for awhile.”

“The thing is...I don't know how long awhile is going to be. ...I'm kinda hoping we can find someplace safe enough that you can stay with me.”

“Of course if that is a possiblity, I would prefer it.”

Allie frowns thoughtfully. “I...might have an idea on that. Diego, do you know if my aunt and uncle still have the beach house?”

“As far as I know,” I reply, sighing a little. It's actually a little funny how quickly I've grown to consider this new timeline the real one, enough that I can roll my eyes at some of her family's more extravagent status symbols. “They didn't stop being obscenely wealthy when you disappeared.”

“Wait, your folks have a beach house?!” Raj exclaims. “In California?!”

Allie winces a little. “In Laguna Beach. It's a second home, if you can believe that.”

Michelle raises an eyebrow. “What exactly do they do?”

“Uncle Rob's a lawyer, Aunt Molly's a plastic surgeon. And they live in the Greater L.A. area, so guess who most of their clients are. They probably could have had a ten million dollar home in Beverly Hills, but they chose a more 'modest' million-dollar estate in Alessandro Heights so they could keep the beach house for entertaining. ...I've only seen it a few times. Most of their parties weren't exactly 'kid' parties, so I was left with Diego's family most of the time they were hosting until my fingers stopped being so sticky. But they did let us use it for both our eighteenth birthdays and our high school graduation parties.”

“...They were going to let us use it to celebrate our college graduation,” I murmur.

“Ohh, man, that would've been freaking sweet!” Craig sighs. “We would've been invited, right?”

Allie laughs. “Duh, Craig! Anyway, here's what I'm thinking now. I may be able to convince them that Jake and I need a place to ourselves. I'm guessing I can convince them to let us take over either the beach house or the place in Riverside. Then you and Varyyn can stay with us and we can all look after each other.” She frowns a little. “...Thing is, though, it might take awhile before they're ready to let me out of their sight. ...Especially given that I'm not sure how they'll react to Jake.”

“Hey, I can always find a place to rent,” I say quickly. “In case you've forgotten, I am a best-selling author now. I'm not really hurting for money.”

“I know. But if I can manage it...”

“Whether Varyyn and Diego end up at the beach house or an apartment, there's still gonna be some downtime before things get settled,” Jake points out.

“I can wait in London until then,” Varyyn says. “It is all right, really.”

“You may not have to, though. I got a thought. There's a little risk involved, but I think it may be work out.” He takes Allie's hand, squeezing it. “You've been a missing person for five years, Princess. Both Lundgren's trial and Rourke's were national news. As was the disappearance of one of his Selected. No matter how quiet we try to sneak you back in, we're gonna have to deal with the police at some point. ...My sister came across your case file and was willing to keep it quiet. ...I say we ask her help. She may be able to hide Varyyn until we can get him and Diego someplace safe.”

A hush settles over the table. I see Allie's chest start to rise and fall a little faster. “Jake...I...don't take this the wrong way, but...can we trust her? I mean, I'm sure she's a good sister and a good cop, but...with the Vaanti? With my origins?”

“I think we can. We can bring Mike in to back us up, too. Rebecca's a responsible cop, but she ain't so by-the-book that she won't bend the rules if there's a good reason to bend 'em. And I can't think of anyway harrassing the Vaanti is gonna relate to your case once she knows the facts.”

“But will she believe them?”

“With our very own Papa Smurf in front of her as evidence? I know my sister, Alodia. She's a healthy skeptic, but she's also got an open mind. She's just the right mix of wary and receptive. Besides,” he raises her hand to his mouth and kisses it. “You know I wouldn't suggest it if I thought for a second it would put you or the Vaanti in any real danger. Don't you?”

She nods, slowly but without hesitation. Jake looks at me. “What about you, Short Stuff? You've had the chance to get to know Rebecca a little. You in?”

I hesitate just a little. “It isn't that I don't trust her...but I am inclined to be cautious to the point of overprotectiveness with Varyyn. It's one thing to put him on the street in human clothes and let people think he's going to a costume convention, but it's another to bring in someone outside our family and say, 'Hey, he's part of a race of super-evolved humans who got that way when their ancestors drank the sap from an alien tree'.”

“Rebecca is family,” Jake says firmly.

“You know what I meant. ...Thing is, Jake, I trust you. So...if you can honestly tell me you'd be comfortable telling Rebecca that her sister-in-law is actually the human daughter of a crystal alien that got trapped on earth and that she's been retconned into existence after giving herself up to save the world from destruction...then I'm in.”

“I believe she can be trusted with everything,” Jake answers without hesitation. “She's the only person outside of the La Huerta sphere that I would trust.”

His confidence doesn't entirely erase my doubts, but I don't think anything ever could. I trust his love for Allie enough to know that if he had the slightest doubt, he wouldn't be suggesting this. My biggest fear is that he'll discover his trust is misplaced, but I can't deny that he knows his sister better than I do.

“...All right. So, we'll see if Varyyn can stay with your sister until either I find an apartment or Allie gets run of the beach house, or the house in Riverside.”

“Oh, please say you'll angle for the beach house,” Raj says with a grin. “Do you realize how many awesome parties we can have there? Hell, we could throw a New Years' Eve party that would top Elysian Lodge! Fireworks and everything!”

Allie snorts. “Don't get ahead of yourself, Raj. I have to get the beach house first.”

“If the plan is for Varyyn to stay in Los Angeles,” Aleister remarks, “perhaps we should alter our flight plan to land there instead. Rourke International can certainly reimburse everyone the cost of altering your tickets when we arrive.”

“I just have one problem with that plan,” Michelle says. “I have no doubt that once Alodia is officially a found person, the police and her family will have doctors all over her, testing her DNA and making sure she's healthy. If being a time anomaly has done anything strange with her body, wouldn't it be safer if I found out first? I had been thinking that I could sneak her into my hospital under an assumed name to have them run blood tests and scans.”

“...Wouldn't that leave a paper trail?” Jake asks uncertainly.

“I was hoping Zahra could help with some of that.”

“Tell me what you need, I'll see what I can do.”

Michelle nods. “There are also a few equipment techs I can probably bribe with Condors tickets to give the results to me directly and not put them in the system. Not to mention interns who will need to be bribed to let me handle the procedures...” She looks hopefully at Sean, who grins.

“In the name of sneaking Alodia back into the world, I'll pull every string I can get my hands on.”

“So, should we plan on landing in Northbridge now?”

“You'll have your choice of places to crash,” Quinn says cheerfully. “Alodia and Jake can stay with me and Michelle, and Varyyn and Diego can stay with Craig and Zahra.”

“Wait, you and Michelle are living together?” Allie repeats. “What about Sean?”

“I mostly stay with them. But my mom's place has an extra room for me, and I'm kinda paying her rent. Perks of a pro athlete's salary.”

“I see the sense in your plan, Maybelline,” Jake concedes. “Can Rourke International spare the private plane for a second flight from Northbridge to L.A.?”

“Of course.”

“Or! Better idea!” Raj exclaims. “I rent us a van, and we make a Catalyst Road Trip of it!”

“As...enjoyable as that sounds,” Aleister says, trying and failing to hold back a smile, “Grace has a show coming up in London that she has to prepare for. Besides, the longer we take getting Alodia to Los Angeles, the more likely it is she or Varyyn will be seen by someone we don't want to see them.”

“Aww, that's a good point. Why did you have to make a good point?”

“My apologies.”

“Are you still willing to let some of us come with you, Alodia?”

“Well...everything will be have to be managed carefully, especially when it comes to introducing everyone to my family. But I am happy to have any of you around that want to be there and can spare the time.”

“I can come along,” Estela remarks. “Tio won't mind if I take an extra week or two to get back. In fact, he'll probably be thrilled by the idea of me spending some time in Los Angeles.”

“I'll go, too,” Quinn declares.

“You know I'm in!” Raj says cheerfully.

“I can probably swing a few extra days off,” Craig adds. “How about you, Z?”

Zahra grins, jerking her head at Aleister. “Ask my boss.”

“Well, I suppose I can spare you,” Aleister mock-sighs.

“I wish I could come,” Grace sighs. “But like Aleister says, I have to prepare for a show.”

“...Okay. So, I guess we have a plan now.” Quite suddenly, I find myself feeling lighter. I didn't even realize how nervous this was making me until now.

“I feel like this brilliant plan needs a name,” Craig remarks. “A cool code name like Operation...something...”

“Operation Andromeda?” Allie suggests wryly.

“I believe Operation Perseus might be more appropriate,” Aleister replies thoughtfully.

“What's a Perseus?” Craig asks.

“A character in Greek Mythology. A son of Zeus, and the eventual consort of Princess Andromeda. It was Perseus who saved Andromeda from being sacrificed to the sea monster Cetus.”

“Wait, sacrificed to Cetus?”

Aleister sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Craig. Cetus was sent by the god of the sea to punish Andromeda's mother for boasting that her daughter was more beautiful than the sea nymphs. When Cetus continued to terrorize the kingdom, Andromeda's father decided the only way to stop it was to sacrifice Andromeda. So he chained her naked to a rock and left her to die.”

“Dude!”

“But, Perseus eventually rescued her, using the severed head of Medusa to defeat Cetus.”

“That's...kinda twisted, all things considered,” Zahra remarks. “Especially Rourke's obsession with mythology.”

“...Rourke didn't name Cetus,” Allie points out. “He didn't name me Andromeda, either. That was the Endless. ...I've been trying to figure that one out for a long time.”

“Well, no need to figure it out anymore,” Jake declares, winding an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Cetus is dead, my Princess Andromeda.”

“So, Jake is Perseus now?”

“I think you're all collectively Perseus,” Allie declares firmly. “If my Cetus was actually Vaanu, then all of you are Perseus, because all of you are helping me get my life back.”

“Frankly, I think if we start searching for mythological parallels to everything that happened on La Huerta,” Estela remarks, “we are all going to end up with massive headaches.”

“Agreed,” Quinn says cheerfully. “We have one more day on La Huerta before Operation Perseus or whatever it is gets underway. Let's enjoy ourselves!”

[ddaddsprompts]

Before your ask box closes i FINALLY thought of a prompt: the dads with a ticklish s/o :D (btw your writing is amazing!)

I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to get to your prompt! Hopefully, now that we are four people instead of just me, things will go faster and you won’t have to wait as long! - Mod Mare

🥃 “Want another round?” At the sound of Robert’svoice you turn your head towards him. It’s strange how a few months can changea man so much, but Robert proves it’s possible. He got professional help,picked up a hobby other than drinking and cryptid hunting and actually startedtaking a shower every other day instead of once a week. His drinking gotbetter, too, decreased to a normal and acceptable level. He still can drink youunder the table though. The empty glass in front of you was only your third drink,however, so you slide it over to where he’s standing in front of thetable. He dips his head and disappears for a moment, returning with two filledglasses. You scoot to the side to let him slide into the booth again.Automatically, he throws his arm across your shoulders, pulling you close untilyour sides are pressed together. Like always whenever he touches you, youblush. Though he told you he wants to take things slow and wait until he’sready, you two still behave like a couple in public, only with less kissing andhand-holding. “Thanks, Bobert,” you say raising your glass in a toast. He rollshis eyes. “I told you not to call me that,” he grunts and drops his arm again. Indoing so, his fingers brush over your nape, right where the fine hair thickens followingyour spine up your skull. You can’t help the shudder that goes down your back andlean away from the touch. Robert frowns, then his expression turns downrightevil. “Oh, someone’s ticklish, huh?” You glare at him and move to the edge ofthe booth. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture which is destroyed byhis smirk. “Scout’s honour. I won’t tickle you… for now.”

🍸”Help!” You try to wrench Christie offof you, but Christian holds down your arm with surprising strength for a seven-year-oldchild. To be fair, you’re holding back, not wanting to accidentally hurt them,but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to control your body. “Help!”Joseph finally puts down his book and takes in the scene in front of him with agrin. When Christian asked you whether you’re ticklish, you should have knownthe twins had a plan. You wonder if telling the truth would have saved you, butfigure the outcome would have been the same, no matter what you said. Christiemanages to pull your shirt free and slips her hands under the fabric. A verymanly yelp escapes your lips as she begins tickling your sides. Now that theycan reach your skin, the torture is even worse, your end is near. Your vision isblurred because of the tears and you’re laughing so hard you can’t beg for helpany longer, but Joseph wouldn’t have saved you anyway. With a chuckle, yourboyfriend sits down on the ground next to you. “Looks like the valiant knighthas been slain by the Spider Prince and Princess! Surrender and your miseryshall end!” You try to squirm out of Christie’s reach, but Christian moves over,effectively trapping you. Gasping for breath, you look at Chris, but he’s too busyplaying on his Gameboy. Faced with inevitable defeat, you still put on yourmost determined expression. “Never, Spider King!” Joseph leans over you andgrins. “Then suffer!” At the feeling of his fingers expertly squishing your sides,you scream. It’s a wonder none of the neighbours call the police.

☕ The beeping of Mat’s phone alarm slowly wrests you from the realm ofdreams and thrusts you back into the waking world. You groan and pull thenearest object over your head, which probably is a pillow, not that you care. Nextto you, Mat chuckles and moves, the bed shifting along with him. His weightleaves the mattress and you hear him walk, the creak of the door telling you he’sgone to the bathroom. One of the major disadvantages of dating a barista: Healways gets up far too early. It’s probably only four or five am, far, far too early for any human being to beawake, and yet you enjoy cuddling with him far too much to sleep in your ownbed. The pillow on your head is suddenly pulled off, exposing you to the light.You groan and cover your face with your hands but Mat’s having none of it,gently prying them off again. Once your eyes adjust to the brightness, you seehim leaning over you, dreads hanging down. One lock brushes over your neck,making you squirm away, giggling. Mat raises an eyebrow. “Are you ticklish?”You vehemently shake your head. Mat copies the movement, but a lot slower – it causeshis dreadlocks to glide over your skin. A shudder runs down your spine. You tryto escape, but Mat’s weight on top of you keeps you trapped in place. Mat chucklesand does it again. “You are.” You can’tspeak, trying to catch your breath between giggles, but you manage a nod. Youkeep your chin pressed to your chest and pull your shoulders up as far as theygo so he can’t tickle you anymore. “Are you going to stay like this forevernow?” You grunt. Mat kisses your forehead and climbs off the bed again. “Seeyou later, turtle.”

🌹 Damien is intelligent, charming and a gentleman through and through. That’swhere the problem lies. Because as much as you love it when he wraps an armaround your waist or puts a hand on the small of your back, it’s also maddeningas hell. So far, you managed to not give away what you consider your greatestweakness, but only barely. Lucien, you’re sure, already knows what’s up; he keepson shooting you unamused looks whenever you have to bite your tongue so you don’tstart giggling when Damien does it again. It’s only a matter of time untilDamien finds out. You assumed it would be during sex or another activity withequal amounts of touching. You did not takeDamien’s interest in yoga into account. That’s a battle you cannot win. Seeinghim go from one painful-looking pose into the next with ease reminds you ofyour aching, ageing bones. You barelymanage to do the ‘low lunge’ without your back screaming in protest and Damienmakes it look so easy. “Here, let mehelp you.” Damien steps behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder. The otherslides down your spine, applying the faintest of pressure. You manage to hold in,until Damien’s hand settles at the curve where your spine meets your ass. Yousplutter, then laugh and, in your attempt to squirm out of reach, you fallforward on your face. “Oh my! Are you okay, Y/N? I didn’t mean to push so hard—“He tries to help you up again, but that just makes you laugh harder. Damien liesdown next to you and chuckles. “You’re ticklish?”“I’m neither going to confirm nor deny that.” He reaches forward and brusheshis finger over your side. With a yelp you scoot backwards and glare.

🎣 Right after Amanda, the invention of chocolateburgers and Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers, cuddling with Brianis the best thing in the world. You love putting your head on his chest andwrapping your arms around his torso; you love giving him belly rubs, making himlaugh so much it vibrates through his whole body. It’s even better when youboth are tired from a long day at work and flop down on the couch right afterdinner. You’re not always ‘on top’, so to speak. Sometimes, like it is rightnow, Brian’s head lies comfortably on your chest as you hold him close to you.You move your hands to his hips, starting to draw silly patterns into his skinwith your thumb. Brian giggles against your shirt and squirms away from yourtouch. You pause. “You can’t be serious. You’re ticklish?” It’s like Christmasand Thanksgiving in one. Brian pouts. “Am not.” You wiggle your fingers againsthis waist, drawing a snort from Brian as he tries not to laugh. “Are too.”“I bet you are ticklish. Maybe here?”He pokes your side; you raise your eyebrow. He tries under your arms, but youdon’t even twitch. “I think you’re trying to deflect from yourself, dear.”Brian smirks and scoots upwards. “I’m going to find your weakness, Y/N, mark my—“He blinks in surprise at your sudden, startled laugh and leans back. You coveryour mouth with your hand and duck your head, but not fast enough. Realisationdawns in his face. Brian grins and dives back in, rubbing his beard all overyour neck. “N-no!” You whine. You try to escape but he’s stronger and pins youdown, mercilessly assaulting your neck until you’re a laughing, sobbing mess.

👟 It rarely happens, but sometimes, you and Craigend up arguing. Most often, it’s about silly things, like what you should havefor dinner or who was supposed to do the laundry but didn’t. You never gotloud, there was no throwing dishes involved because Craig had a master’s degreein communication, but there always was reconciliation sex afterwards. That’s theonly thing stopping you from storming out of the room right now because you’vebeen at it for an hour and stillhaven’t made any progress. Well, not the only thing, but the most convincing. “Craig,their bodies won’t decay just because they had ice cream once.” It feels likeyou’re stuck in a continuous loop; you must have said that sentence 300 timesby now. “Once? Bro, you take them out to ice cream after every major gamewhich, to you, is basically every game!”“It’s ice cream! They’re kids! Let them live a little! It’s only frozen milk,how bad can that be? No, I don’t want to hear the recipe again. I heard it fivetimes already.” Craig furrows his brows. You can tell he’s going through yourconversation so far, counting each time to prove you wrong. His shouldersdeflate as he counts to five. With silence descending on you like a heavy quillblanket, Craig unexpectedly reaches out and pokes your side. You flinch away. “Bro,what—“ He does it again. Your back hits the wall, trapping you in a corner.Craig wiggles his fingers. “You can’t just end the argument by tick— NO!” Craigwraps an arm around your waist; his free hand mercilessly tickles you in allyour sensitive spots. You gasp for air and try to free yourself, limbs flailinghelplessly. Somehow, you manage to kick Craig in the knee, sending you bothtoppling to the floor. Your eyes meet his and then you’re both breaking intolaughter.

📖 “Now, in theory, were this a match I would throw you right over my head.”From where you are slung across Hugo’s shoulder, all you can do is hum. Youdefinitely do not want him to throw you down, but you don’t think he’s goingto. That would definitely put a hamper on later activities. After your first physicalbrush with wrestling which led to Hugo and you making out, him suggesting to showyou more moves became a pick-up line which never fails to work. With how close andpersonal you always got, it’s a downright miracle he never noticed how ticklishyou are. Maybe he’s just never touched you in the right spots before or if hedid, you were already breathless so it didn’t matter much why you gasped forair to begin with. “Careful now, I’m going to let you down again.” Slowly, Hugoshifts his hands from your knee-pits upwards while bringing you back into anupwards position. When his hands brush over your lower back, where your shirthad ridden up due to the athletics you’ve been doing, a startled laugh escapesyour mouth. Hugo pauses; you can’t see his expression but you imagine himfrowning. He brushes over your back again. Again, you laugh. “Well, well, well.I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Without any obvious effort whatsoever, Hugolies you down on the bed. You do notlike the smirk on his face. “I’m not?” Hugo raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I am. Alittle.” His other eyebrow joins the conversation. “Fine, a lot.” Hugo folds hisglasses and puts them aside. “You know, I’m a fan of show, don’t tell.” Youonly get what he means when his hands are suddenly all over you. You try toscramble away but there’s no escaping JDSlamminger.

[daddy-hotline]

The dads reaction to coming home to see dadsona crying because of a shitty day and all he says in a small voice is “Can I please be held?”

［thank you for the prompt and super sorry for the late reply! this actually makes me super emotional because I can't remember the last time I had a hug. hope you enjoy :D］🎣Brian :"Ah- (Y/N)!" he cries out when he sees you like that. He rushed over and embraces you in a right hug, body warmth seeping into your trembling body. He says nothing but comforting words as he strokes your hair, helping to draw out the sadness from within. He seems rather concerned. When was the last time he saw you like this? He tried to remember, till he stumbled upon the memory of you saying that you had been mocked at work. Only then did he hold you tighter and kiss your tears away. 🏋Craig :"Bro, what the-" he controls himself as the girls all look at you. You hurry into the bedroom to escape the embarrassment and Craig follows close behind. "Bro, dude, are you ok?" you don't reply as both of you sit down and he envelopes you in his chest. He pushes your hair out of your face so that he can see you better, but you hide it in his chest. He forces your face away and kisses you gently. "You're going to be ok," he says firmly. You sniffled as he kissed you again, leaning against him for comfort.🐶Damien : He says nothing as he takes your trembling hand and leads you into the bedroom, where you two have some privacy. He excuses himself to bring you some warm tea and you sit there with tears running down your face. Hiccuping, Damien wipes away the tears on your face and encourages you to drink the tea. He then sits beside you and rubs your shoulder. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, you start sobbing even harder. He tells you it's ok to cry and holds you to him the best he can.📚Hugo :Before either you or Hugo can do anything else, Ernest scurries out of the living room to give you two some time together. You remind yourself to thank him later. Hugo seems concerned and he grabs a box of tissues before ushering you to the sofa. You collapsed on it as Hugo plucks tissues from the box and press them into your shaking hands. You dab at your face, snorting your mucus out, but nothing calms you until he pulls you into his lap and has his arms around your waist.💒Joseph :The kids look away, knowing that it must be hard for you to do this in front of them. Joseph casts them a quick glance. "Eat your dinner and I'll be right back," he tells them and pulls you upstairs. Before you can even reach the bedroom he already has his arms around you, whispering a prayer to Jesus to calm you down. Soon you feel yourself stop shaking and Joseph kisses your cheek. He squeezed your hand, smiling at you. "Would some brownies help?"☕Mat :He's shocked out of his wits and he dashes over to comply with your request. Strong arms hold you to his warm body, you can smell the coffee scent literally radiating off of him. He doesn't say anything. He knows that all you need now is some time to calm down, get the tears and feelings out, and probably an entire tub of chocolate ice cream. Once you nod that you're alright, he makes you sit down as he grabs the ice cream for you. While he's gone Carmensita clambers into your lap and holds your hand. 🔪Robert :"Christ- Babe, who the fuck made you cry?" he's scrambling up from the sofa in seconds, nearly tripping over Betsy as he does so. The dog jumps up and runs between your legs. While Robert takes in your disheveled state, you can tell that he's plotting a murder already. You collapse onto his chest, breathing in his slightly musty smell, but nothing too bad. His beard scratches your face as he kisses your temple and he helps you to sit down. He doesn't let go and you continue to sob, leaning against him.

[dawnbutterfly]

Big Brother

((Alright, so... because of the positive, or at least not-negative reception of Adoption, at the suggestion and inspiration of @keeperixx, I wrote a sequel. Where as the first one focused on my New Kid rescuing Butters from his shit-awful abusive parents, this one takes the opposite approach, focusing on Butters being there for his little brother in a moment of vulnerability. Thus, I present “Big Brother”. As before, read my cringey shit at your own risk.))

Darkness.

Grant scanned over his environment. The inky blackness seemed to stretch on forever.

“Hello?” He called out, answered only by a slight echoing of his own voice. “Is anyone there?”

Spinning on his heels again, he got an annoyed look on his face. “If you've kidnapped me, I can tell you that's a big mistake!” He shouted out impatiently.

“You're not the one who was kidnapped…” A voice, barely a whisper, sounded right next to his ear.

Grant whipped around, his fists raised ready for a fight, but saw no one there. He blinked, confused, before feeling a strange sensation on his hands. Looking down at them, he saw them dripping with blood.

A look of horror came to his face as he tried to shake the viscous fluid off of his hands.

“Why…?” Another, different voice came from behind him. He turned slowly, coming face to face with a grizzly visage of his father, head severed and held at eye level by his body, his eyes cold and vacant.

“Why did you kill me, sport?” The head spoke, blood leaking from its lips as they moved.

Grant recoiled in fear and horror. “N-No… I-I didn't want to! I-It needed a DNA sample! I-I didn't have a choice, I had to save my friends!” He stammered.

“But you came to save us, sweetie.” The first voice sounded. He turned, and saw his mother, the same vacant, dead look in her own eyes, her left arm severed and held in her right hand.

“I couldn't walk. I was almost dead. But you chose me anyway. You chose me over your father, and you murdered him!” The woman cackled.

“N-No… you told me to do it! You told me…” Grant said, tears flowing down his face.

“Say, sport… you're our child, aren't you?” Grant's father spoke. He turned slowly to meet his dead eyes once again.

“That means you have the same DNA as your mother and I.” The horrible apparition continued. “It would have accepted your DNA for the sample, wouldn't it?”

Grant's eyes widened. He felt another hand grab his right arm. Turning, he saw it his mother's severed arm, still held by her other hand. “If you had just cut off your hand, we could have both made it out. You know that laser would have seared the wound shut. We could have all lived.” She barked out spitefully.

“B-But you're alive now! I-I fixed it! I fixed the timeline! I kept you safe!” Grant pleaded.

“You think just because you erased it, that means it didn't happen!?” His mother screamed. “You didn't even know you could fix it when you did it!”

“You cut off my head, and then you left your injured mother to die!” His father shouted.

“We could have lived. We could have lived. We could have lived.” The two chanted, drawing closer and closer as Grant stood frozen in fear.

“YOU CHOSE WRONG!”

⁂

Grant's eyes snapped open, a mix of shock, horror, and illness on his face. His hand flew to his mouth, and he quickly rushed to the bathroom, hunching over the toilet and retching his guts out.

He wiped his mouth, trying to steady his breathing. It was only then he noticed an odd feeling from his pants legs. Looking down, he sighed, a blush coming to his face.

“Damn it… I can't deal with this on a school night…” He mumbled to himself. He walked over to the cupboard under the sink, opening it to reveal a small stash of spare clothes. Sighing again, he took a pair, and quickly changed into them, stuffing the soiled ones into a bag he could hide until he could wash them.

With another sigh, he morosely walked back to his room, closing the door behind him.

“How many times is that, now?” A voice startled him as the door latched shut. He looked up to see his adopted brother, Butters, standing at the foot of his bed. Next to him, he saw the sheets and bed cover from his own bed bundled up on the floor.

Grant looked away in embarrassment. “Which do you mean? How many night terrors I've had? Or how many times I've wet myself in fear of them…” He asked spitefully.

Butters didn't reply, but quietly walked up to Grant, taking him by the hand. Grant tensed for a moment, but relaxed, and allowed Butters to lead him back over to his bed. They both pulled themselves up on to Butters' bed and sat silently for a while.

“You know…” Butters finally spoke up. “I've had a lot of nightmares in my life too. My fair share of… accidents because of them as well…”

Grant just kept staring down at his lap.

“I'll be honest, I can hardly imagine what would scare you so badly that would happen, but…” Butters paused, feeling Grant's discomfort and shame. He reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

“But just know that I know where you're coming from, if you want to tell me…” Butters finished.

Grant remained silent for several moments. Butters simply sat with him patiently.

“You… you know how I have the power to control time?” Grant finally began. Butters nodded.

“W-Well… in an alternate timeline, we got… we got stuck in the old genetics lab up on the hill. Or… maybe that still happened. It's hard to tell…” Grant started.

“I remember it happening.” Butters said reassuringly. “You went out and turned on the tram so we could all escape. You saved us…”

Tears formed in the corners of Grant's eyes. “Y-Yeah, well… you don't know what I had to do to turn it back on…” He said. Butters looked at him with concern.

“That whole god forsaken place is built like a death trap… and in order to reactivate the tram, I had to…” Grant choked up, the tears falling from his eyes.

Butters took hold of his hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I'm here for you. Big brother's here…” He said, trying to comfort him.

Grant took a deep, steadying breath. “T-The controls… needed a DNA sample from one of my parents in order to reset… a huge DNA sample…” He explained, Butters' eyes widening.

“I-I had to choose… to choose a parent to kill… to feed the god damn machine a piece of their body to make it work again… so I could save everyone else…” He said between sobs.

He finally looked Butters in the eyes. “I-I cut my own dad's head off to escape a room, Butters!” He said, perhaps a little too loud. He covered his mouth, looking down. Butters looked thunderstruck.

“I-I killed my own dad… and then I left my hurt mom alone… and…” He choked on his own crying again.

“W-Well… your dad seems fine to me.” Butters offered, unsure quite how to handle what he'd gotten himself into.

Grant sniffled loudly, taking another deep breath. “I-I changed the timeline, from way back in the past. S-Somehow it made it so my parents never ended up in that situation. I'm not entirely sure how…” He said. “B-But that doesn't change the fact that I did it. I killed my dad, a-and left my mom for dead…”

“Grant, you…” Butters started.

“I-I-I'm their child, Butters! H-How could I just choose one of them over the other like that!?” Grant began sobbing again. “I-I chose myself over them! I-I have DNA from both of them! The scanner would have taken mine just as much as theirs! I-I should have just cut off my-”

Grant was cut off when Butters latched onto him in a hug. He just stared absently out a the room in shock.

“D-Don't say that, you hear me?” Butters said. Grant could tell that he was crying too. “W-What if whatever you cut off wasn't enough? A-And what if you bled out, or went into shock because of it? W-What good would it do if you got yourself killed trying to save everyone?”

Grant looked down silently.

“Everything about that place was awful. You remember how mad Craig got about how stupid everything was. So don't you blame yourself for doing what you had to do to save the people you cared about.” Butters said, hugging Grant tightly. “Y-You were saving you friends. You were saving your brother. And in the end, you saved your parents too.”

“B-But it wasn't fair of me to-” Grant began.

“You're right, it wasn't fair.” Butters said sternly. “It wasn't fair that a nine year old had to go fix a tram system. It wasn't fair that a little kid had to kill their dad to do so. N-None of it was fair to you, and I'm so sorry you had to go through it…”

“You do so much for this town. Even when people treat you badly, and throw you under the bus, you still stand up tall and fix everything when no one else can…” Butters said, patting Grant's back soothingly. “Your friends are alive. Your family is alive. So if you won't believe it for yourself, then believe it from someone you saved when he says you don't deserve to suffer. You don't need to hate yourself…”

Grant sat in silence, processing what Butters had said. Eventually, he simply closed his eyes, and finally returned the hug Butters was holding him in. Tears kept streaming down his cheeks, but his breathing steadied.

“What did I ever do… to deserve such a caring brother…” Grant said through sniffles.

Butters finally pulled away from the hug, putting a comforting hand on Grant's shoulder. “Hey. Brothers have to look out for each other, right?” He asked with a smile.

Grant wiped the tears from his eyes and returned the smile. “Right…” He said.

Suddenly the emotional exhaustion finally hit Grant, and he yawned widely. Looking over to his clock, he saw that it was about two in the morning. “Aw man, getting up for school is gonna suck…” He said.

Butters chuckled. “Then I guess we should probably get back to sleep, huh?” He said.

“Yeah…” Grant said, looking over to his own bed, bereft of sheets, and still with the faint outline of the wet spot on the mattress. He blushed.

Butters patted his shoulder again. “Hey, why not sleep here in my bed tonight? Just in case you need a hand to hold…” He said.

Grant smiled sheepishly. “Thanks…” He said.

Grant reached over and grabbed the pillow from his own bed, and the two shuffled their way to the head of Butters'. Managing to fit the second pillow on the bed, they both settled in under the covers, back to back.

“Good night Grant.” Butters said with his own yawn.

Grant was quiet for a moment.

“Good night… big brother…” He said, smiling to himself.

Shortly thereafter, he drifted off back to sleep.

⁂

Darkness.

Grant scanned over his environment. The inky blackness seemed to stretch on forever.

This time, though, he wasn't quite so alone.

“You killed us!” The ghostly apparitions cried out.

“Not tonight, fellas. We've got school in the morning.” A young blonde replied with an innocent smile.

Grant stood in the dark, his mother, father, and brother all hugging him tightly. The dark versions of his parents slowly faded away, leaving him alone with the ones he loved.

You chose right.

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

Cheating

Pairing: Dean x Reader; Sam x platonic!reader

Warnings: Language, cheating (pls don’t hate me), slight feelings of inadequacy, slight descriptions of injuries, arguing, fighting, ANGST

Word Count: 2006

A/N: This was written for @wideawakeandwriting ‘s 100 followers challenge. My prompts were “My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?” and “You’re cute when you’re worried.” This was also written for Kari’s @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Week 14 Hiatus Challenge. The prompt was “I never wanted to hurt you.” Admittedly, this took a way angstier turn than originally planned. Please don’t hate me and beware of the ANGST. No beta and feedback always welcomed and appreciated.

Summary: After a grueling hunt Dean’s phone goes off to show you something you never expected. Will this change yours and Dean’s relationship? 

You were laying in bed at the most recent motel you guys were staying at and Dean was currently in the shower. Sam got himself a different room because …. well …. you and Dean just needed to have your own room.

You all had just gotten back from your latest hunt, a demon hunt. Those sons of bitches were the worst. This demon in particular was just trying to draw you and the Winchesters out which would have been good information to know before you went after the damn thing. It was a pretty intense battle once you had found it. He had a few henchmen that were on the larger side and could easily take the guys, which was saying a lot. The fight was brutal, but as always, the bad guys lost and you guys won.

However, that didn’t mean you didn’t walk away without some souvenirs of your own. You and the guys got pretty beaten up and got some nasty gashes. You more so than them but you didn’t want them to know that. You had to keep up your tough girl fassod. Although that was quickly fading as the pain started to settle in.

You tried to move to get more comfortable when you saw Dean’s phone light up and heard it vibrate on the night stand and grabbed it out of curiosity. You saw that it was a message from a woman named Leslie.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It was one thing if a woman was sending him a racy photo, but this woman …. Leslie, she was implying they had done something. This couldn’t be true. Dean, your boyfriend of two years, friend for five before that, couldn’t be cheating on you. He would never, would he?

Just as you were getting out of bed, Dean was walking out of the bathroom still a little wet in just his boxers. He looked at you and noticed the look on your face. It was a mix of confusion, worry, anger, and sadness. So, he did what he did best, made it into a joke, not having a clue what he was walking into.

“You’re cute when you’re all worried. What’s up babe?” he said.

“I don’t know you tell me,” you said your voice dripping with venom as shoved the phone into Dean’s face. His eye’s widened at the discovery. “There’s only one woman that should be sending you pictures like this and my name isn’t Leslie …. so, who’s Leslie?”

“She’s nobody.”

“Looks like somebody to me,” you screamed as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. “She said y’all had fun. What did you have fun doing with Leslie, Dean?”

“Y/N, I – it was one ti- “

“God damnit, Dean! Don’t you dare say it was only once. Once is all it fucking takes! When?”

“What?”

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ag, when you went on that solo hunt, but I swear it meant nothing. She means nothing.”

“You mean the solo hunt I almost died on? The hunt that I came staggering back in the bunker with my guts hanging out only being held in by my hands? That hunt?” you screamed clutching your new injuries on your abdomen as that pain was getting worse.

Dean didn’t seem to notice your pain. His response to you was a meek nod.

“Nice Dean, while I was dying you were off fucking some skank.”

“Y/N, please just listen. She didn’t mean anything. I swear,” Dean pleaded with you tears now running down his cheeks.

“But she does, Dean. She means I can’t trust you. She means that I wasn’t good enough for you. She means everything Dean because she is the end of us.”

“Y/N, babe. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, wait.”

“Stop, Dean. You did hurt me. I waited too long to finally call you mine, but apparently you never were. We’re done, Dean. I’m done.”

“Baby, please,” Dean choked out between sobs. He knew he had messed up.

“Sorry, you had your shot Dean. You literally did the one thing that would end this relationship and it seems like you didn’t give a rat’s ass.”

“But I do.”

“Too little too late,” you said clutching your stomach once again feeling the blood seep through your shirt. You turned around sobbing and walked out the door.

You knew you needed help and you knew the only place you had left to go was Sam. You knocked on his door and he answered.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Sam said with concern on his face.

“S-Sammy, I need your help,” you said through pain and tears.

Sam looked downed and saw the blood and quickly ushered you into the room. He led you to the bed and lifted your shirt to see the damage and quickly grabbed the first-aid kit and got to work.

“Y/N, is this from the hunt?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell one of us?”

“I needed to be tough like you guys, but it got bad and I was going to have Dean help me until… ooowww!”

“Sorry, I’m almost done sweetheart. Why didn’t you have Dean help?”

“H-he cheated on me, Sammy. We got into a fight and I stormed out and came here,” you said between sobs.

Sam clenched his jaw and finished stitching you up and headed towards the door.

“Sammy where are going?”

“To kick my dick of brother’s ass for being an idiot.”

“No, Sammy please, don’t. Please just stay with me. Lay with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll lay with you.” You snuggled into Sam’s arms and fell into a deep sleep.

You woke up to hear arguing outside the motel door.

“Dean, what the fuck? How the hell could you do that to her?” Sam yelled.

“I don’t know, okay? Just why the hell was she in your arms?”

“Because she came to me in tears and bleeding. Dean did you even see the gash on her stomach? It was bad.”

“She said she was fine.”

“So, we all say that when we know that we aren’t. Dean she could have bleed out and you had no clue.”

“Fuck.”

After that Sam came strolling back into the room to find you awake. He gave you a sad smile and approached the bed.

“Hey sweetheart are you ready to go?”

“My stuff is still in Dean’s room.”

“It’s in the Impala. I got it for you. Do you want to ride in a different car? I can “borrow” one if you want. I know it has to be hard to face him.”

“It’s fine Sam. I’ll be fine.”

Okay so you might have miscalculated how fine things would be. The car ride back to the bunker was long and awkward. Dean was constantly staring into the rearview mirror at you looking sad and guilty, you just scowled back at him. Sam tried to ease the tension to no avail.

You went to go to your room, but Dean stopped you.

“Y/N, can we talk, please?” Dean said.

“No, I’m tired and sore. I’m going to bed.”

“Please baby- “

“Stop, you lost the right to call me that. I wasn’t kidding Dean. We are done. You know my past, my father cheated on my mother and my ex-husband of two years cheated on me for the entirety of our marriage. These are things I told you and cheating was the one thing I could never tolerate. I can handle your drinking, your moods, and your issues because god knows I have my own. But, Dean you knew and you did it anyway. So, I’m done,” you said with finality as you turned with tears in your eyes.

At that moment, you realized you couldn’t stick around the bunker anymore. It hurt too much to see Dean every day. It hurt too much to be reminded of what you lost. As much as you would have liked to take his apology and start over, you couldn’t. That would always be in the back of your mind and that wasn’t fair to either you or Dean.

You took out some paper and a pen and wrote a letter to each Winchester. Despite this decision you still loved them both, you needed them to know that. After you finished, you packed all your belongings and left the letters on the bed. You made sure both guys were sleep and slipped out into the night never to look back at the bunker or the Winchesters again.

The next morning Sam came to your room to check on you and see how you were doing only to find it empty aside from the two letters with his and Dean’s name scribbled on them. He picked up his letter and began to read.

Sammy,

First, I need you not to kill Dean okay? I know you are going to blame him but this was my decision. Truth is, yeah Dean hurt me but this life, I’m not built for it. This was the second time in a couple months that I almost bled out because of a hunt. I need out of this life and I know that you guys won’t ever leave it so this was for the best. And like I said Dean hurt me and it is just too hard to see him day in and day out and not picture him with that woman. This is for the best for all of us, Sammy. It wouldn’t be fair to me or Dean if I stayed. We would be miserable and that wouldn’t be fair to you. I love you Sammy. You are the big brother I never knew I always wanted. Since I came into your life you have always been there for me and I really appreciate that and I’m sorry I can’t be there for you. You and Dean will always be my family but I have to leave. I’m sorry for doing this, this way.

                                            I wish you the best in life,

                                Your sister from another mister and mother I guess

                                                              Y/N

Sam wiped the tears from his face as he snatched Dean’s letter up and ran to find him.

“Dean!!!! This is your fault! She’s gone and it’s your fault.”

Dean looked at Sam with red puffy eyes that held bags underneath showing his lack of sleep. He figured you would leave, but hoped you wouldn’t. “I know. You’re right. She’s gone and it’s all my fault,” Dean said as he grabbed the letter from Sam’s hand and went to his room and shut the door.

Dean my love,

When I first met you, I knew you were the one. After being with Craig for two years and being miserable you were my light. I took so long to finally admit my feelings and I guess that went to my disadvantage. You were the love of my life, hell you still are, but you hurt me Dean and I can’t see passed that. I know this hurts and for that I’m sorry but this is the only way. I can’t stay there every day and see you and be reminded of what you did. This letter is not meant to yell at you more, I did enough of that. I can’t live the hunter life anymore. I’m not built for it and I know you and Sammy will continue it and I would never ask you to. This is for the best Dean, for all of us. I love you and I always will, but I need you to not look for me. I need you to move on. I need you to be happy so that way we can all be happy. That’s all I want is for you to be happy.

                                                       I wish you the best in life,

                                              The one who got away (and will always love you)

                                                                                     Y/N

Dean stared at the letter the tears falling. He really fucked up and now you were gone. Gone from his life. Forever.

Tag List: 

All SPN: 

@jensen-jarpad

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@sisterwinchesterwriter

@27bmm

@deanjensengirlmaggie

@lenaabs

@a-fan-fighting-for-equality

@mogaruke

@internationalmusicteacher

@mashed-fandom-imagines

@maddybeck01

@justanotherdeangirl

Dean/Jensen:

@akshi8278

[kenleymcmarsh]

Stan: Journal entry No.1

January 28th 2017 I've been driving forever. Dad taught me how at a shockingly young age; and since then it's just been back seated as something I was capable of. I didn't think much of it when I got my license either. Now, the only time I'd been afraid of being behind the wheel was my first time -especially since I couldn't exactly see over the steering wheel- every time since it was just a simple no brainer. Gas, break, don't speed, don't hit anyone. It wasn't until the accident that I was scared to drive. No one was killed (thank god) and neither car was totaled. But the memories make my hands shake and my heart pound. Kenny and Kyle keep telling me that 'it's okay.' Or that 'it was just a freak accident.' But the sight of purple and yellow clouds bleeding under their skin, their yelps as their seat belts jerked them back into place after impact...and the looks on their faces in the ambulance will forever be burned into my mind. I let Kenny do most of the driving when we have to go somewhere now. And if he's not around it's Kyle. It took me a month to drive my own car again. It sat there in the driveway, front bumper slumping halfway onto the salted cement like a drunk smile for weeks before I had the nerve to take it to get fixed. I drank more in the weeks following the accident, Kenny spent the night more. I cried to Kyle, sobbing about how I could never forgive myself for endangering him like that, over the phone every night for a week. On the eighth night he told me loved me but I needed to stop dwelling on it so much. Kenny agreed. Craig flips me off from his window across the street; unrelated. But, he's there like clockwork at 10:36pm every night. I can see him right now, asshole. Kennys coming over soon. It's been a month and a week since the accident. Mine and Kyles bruises have faded to light browns and a weird yellow shade that shows up brighter on Kyle than it does me. But, Kenny still brandishes a greenish-purple band around his hips and across his chest from the seatbelt. He winces when he sits the wrong way, or shifts in sleep. He took the worst of the blow. We were hit from the left side by someone running a red light. The car hit the back left side of my car, behind the drivers side. Where Kenny was sitting. The whole left side of his leg was bruised up as well as his left arm. He looks like a watercolored painting without his shirt on, and it makes my heart ache. He laughs it off and says he's okay, bear hugging me and ruffling my hair. But, I notice how he avoids laying on his left side, and how he stands with his right side to people, protecting his bruised flesh from further pain as it heals. I bought cigarettes and the biggest bag of gummy bears I could find to say sorry. He shared his smokes with me, Craig and, red. And brought his gummy bears home for Karen. Kenny is the most selfless person I can think of. He's my best friend and I tell him I love him and I'm sorry. To which his response is "You love hard, dude. Don't cry over me. I ain't gettin' dragged down by some dumb shit like a car accident. These bruises ain't forever either, stop starin' at em so much. I know- I look damn good all rugged- but it's jus' gonna make you sad so let's watch a movie okay?" He smiles, brushes his sandy blond hair back with his thin fingers and chuckles. Kyle -on the other hand- is different. But is on almost the same level as Kenny. Kyle suffered a concussion from the airbag. And I stayed up with him the night after the accident. I asked him random questions to keep him awake. "What's the square root of pi?" I'd ask. To which he'd sigh and monotonously recite it to its 23rd digit. "Jesus dude, you're so smart..." is all I can think of to say when he answers questions flawlessly. After the 50th or so time I've probably said this he laughs. "Why are you laughing, dude?" I ask. He replies with "you've said that for the past 13 years; I think you need a new response." I call him smart for remembering 13 years of friendship off the top of his head. He laughs again. At night when I call him he listens. Murmuring 'mhm's as I say sorry repeatedly and answering about how he's doing when I ask approximately every 3 minutes (he said it was about every 3 minutes) his answer was usually along the lines of "I promise it doesn't hurt that much" or "I'm fine" or "its about a 3/4 out of 10" and finishing off the conversation with a salutation he'd probably be able to recite backwards by this point- and I mean backwards in the sense where it sounds like they just pressed rewind. "Goodnight dude, yeah I will, I love you too. Promise to put the booze away and drink a full bottle of water. Text me when you wake up." I love him so much, i don't deserve him. I don't deserve Kenny either. My friends are too good for me. Except Craig; who has taped a drawing of a middle finger to his window for me to see even when he's not there to personally grace me with his presence in the window himself. I'll write more tomorrow. This journal thing might not have been a terrible idea? My therapist might've nailed this one on the head. Drinks had: 2 Glasses of water today: 4 Meals: 3

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 2, Chapter 14)

We stand together in heavy, stunned silence, looking out over the fiery hellscape.

“Oh, god...” Diego whispers. “You're saying this is...”

“...Yeah.” Sean's voice is hoarse, his expression twisted with agony. “...It's Hartfeld.”

“No,” Raj growls through gritted teeth. “Nah, man. No way!”

“Yeah, last I remember, there wasn't a freakin' volcano in the middle of Frat Row!” Craig declares angrily.

“I don't understand!” Quinn whimpers. “What happened?”

“Surely this is the distant future,” Aleister says uncertainly. “It must be...”

I dare to turn slowly. The lava stretches as far as I can see.

“What the hell are we supposed to do here?” Michelle cries.

“...We have to figure out what happened,” I murmur.

“Good point,” Zahra agrees. “We have no idea how to stop this if we don't know what it is.”

Sean wheels on me, his eyes flashing. “There could be people out there right now, suffering!” he snarls. “Don't you care?!”

“We do, Sean,” Michelle says gently. “We're just trying to save everyone instead of however few have lived this long.”

One by one, we make our way down the building's creaking fire escape to the street level. Magma bubbles up from cracks in the asphalt, but there is miraculously enough room to walk.

“Let's look around a little, see what we can find. But everyone be careful.”

We spread out, carefully picking our way through the dead, burning streets.

“Hey, guys!” Diego calls. “Come check this out! There's something stuck in the lava over here!”

We make our way over to join him and Grace at the edge of a lava pool near the foot of the fire escape. Something is gleaming golden in the red light.

“Is that...armor?” I dare to look a little closer. “It is! It's a cuirass!”

“Cuirass?” Craig repeats.

“Yeah. Chestplate. This one also has a backplate attached.”

“I am impressed that you know that word,” Aleister allows. I roll my eyes.

“As I keep telling everyone, I'm a history major. I know things about history.”

“This armor looks ancient,” Diego observes. “Look at the engravings. Must be from a museum or something.”

“How in heaven's name is it intact?” Aleister wonders. “The lava should have melted the gold instantly.”

“I don't think it's gold,” Quinn answers. “I think it's amber.”

The armor shimmers enticingly, drawing me in like a magnetic force. Acting on pure instinct, I squat down and reach out to touch the gleaming surface.

“Allie, don't!”

“What on earth are you doing?!” Aleister cries.

“It's...it's cold!” I gasp. “It's not hot at all! Feel it!”

Diego gingerly brushes the armor with one fingertip. When it doesn't burn him, his eyes widen.

“...Okay, that's not normal.”

“Sadi Carnot is rolling in his grave,” Aleister mutters.

Gripping it by the cool, exposed edge, I draw the chestplate out of the lava pool. Molten rock drips off it like water off a duck's back.

“What's the engraving on the back, Alodia?” Grace asks. I trail my fingers over an intricate engraving running down the spine of the armor.

“It looks like a DNA helix...that...turns into a chain...” I swallow hard. Andromeda. But...how can the sign of the chained woman find me so far from La Huerta?

“There's a blue crystal at the nape of the neck,” Diego observes, frowing. “What could that be for?”

There are a few more pieces of armor sticking out of the lava pool. I gingerly fish out faulds, pauldrons, spaulders, gauntlets, cuisses, tassets, and greaves. They're all cool to the touch, not retaining any heat from the lava. Zahra snorts, shaking her head.

“Man, Alodia. You've got a serious death wish for touching those things.”

I open my mouth to respond. On the edges of my vision, I am suddenly aware of vague, fuzzy auras hovering around each of my friends, pulsing in unearthly colors.

“Some risks are necessary,” I answer.

Even before he does it, I hear Craig laughing appreciatively. “Man, you're more of a daredevil than me!”

I can almost mouth Michelle's reprimand along with her: “Why are you saying that like it's a good thing?”

I look down at the amber armor, my fingers still lingering on the engraving. ...Was it the armor? Is that how I knew what they would say? This armor that somehow bears the sign of Andromeda, even though I was supposed to have left La Huerta behind?

“It looks about your size,” Jake remarks. “Made for a tiny knight. You wanna try it on?”

With Jake and Diego's help, I fasten on the amber pieces. They feel crafted for my body, which somehow does not surprise me. Grace shakes her head in dismay.

“I do not understand how you are alive right now.”

“It's...actually pretty breatheable,” I remark.

Diego steps back to look me over and smiles. “Nice. Legendary armor unlocked.”

���You look like an ancient hero,” Quinn agrees.

“It is certainly a handsome set,” Aleister concedes, “but none of this explains how it came to be sitting here!”

A sudden shriek from Grace makes us all jump. Her hand flies to her mouth, and she points with a trembling finger. I follow her gaze to an ash-covered pile of debris.

“Grace? What's wrong? It's just...” I trail off as I step closer and I realize what the pile is really made of. It's not debris. ...It's bones. “...Oh, my god...”

“Oh, man...” Zahra says softly. “That is not a good way to go.”

I hear Raj retching behind me. Everyone backs away from the skeletons. Everyone except for Michelle, who pokes around the pile.

“There's gotta be a dozen of them,” she murmurs.

“Those poor people,” Quinn whispers, choking on a sob. “They were probably classmates. Hartfeld students just like us.”

“Did they die quick and painless, at least?” Raj asks weakly, not bothering to hide his tears.

“Quick, yes,” Michelle answers grimly. “Painless...no.”

“...Let's leave 'em be,” Sean says flatly. “And make sure we don't join 'em.”

We pick our way through the streets of our college town, climbing over hills of smoldering wreckage. The world is dead silent, save for the distant, sustained rumble of the mega-volcano.

“There's the coffee shop I would always code at,” Zahra observes distantly. “Everything looks pretty much the same. Except, ya know, on fire.”

“How far in the future are we?” Diego wonders.

“Do you think most people evacuated in time?” Grace asks.

“Evacuated to where?” There is a note of helpless frustration in Estela's question. “Looks like this goes all the way to the horizon.”

No one answers. There is nothing to say to that. She is terribly, horribly right. We all press a little closer together.

“This cannot be,” Aleister whispers finally. “We did everything, everything we were supposed to.”

“Dude, look.” Raj gestures ahead of us. “This was Andrews Field. Used to play Ultimate out there every weekend.”

“And there's Greene Library,” Grace adds. “That was like my second dorm room.”

Quinn sobs softly beside me. “No...” she whimpers. “No...”

“There's gotta be a way to prevent this from happening,” Michelle says. I can't tell if the conviction in her voice is real or if it's just desperation. “There just has to.”

“I thought I was numb to death,” Estela says ruefully. “But this? This is just...”

“I can't believe this,” I whisper. I feel Jake's hand on my shoulder. I cover his hand with mine.

“Can't imagine how hard this is for you,” he says softly. “To see your home like this.”

“I don't even recognize it anymore...”

“Craig?” Diego calls. “You comin'?”

I look back. Craig is lingering behind, staring up at a huge billboard. I can still make out some of the text advertising season tickets...and pieces of the two men photographed side-by-side, the numbers 5 and 68 emblazoned on their jerseys. I grip Jake's hand a little tighter, feeling my dread grow.

“...Yeah,” Craig says. “I'm comin'.”

We move on. “...Hey, Diego,” I murmur. “Remember when we saw The Avengers at Movies on the Quad last year?”

He grins at me. “Barely. I drank way too much moscato that night. But I remember it was fun.” His smile slips, gesturing in the direction of the quad. “It was right over there. And now it's...it's just gone...”

“It's not gone,” I say softly. “We remember it.”

“Hey,” Estela says gently but firmly. “Come on. You're lagging behind.”

“Sorry.” We pick up our pace a bit. Sean suddenly stops walking. I look over and see him swallowing hard. “...Sean?”

He doesn't acknowledge me. He breaks off from the group, marching forward across the crumbling street.

“Where is he going?” Michelle asks.

“I don't know,” I murmur. “I'll follow him. Make sure he's okay.”

I break off and hurry after him, stepping carefully on the disintegrating street. I follow him into a half-collapsed building, up a charred staircase to a second floor apartment. I find him standing in the middle of soot-covered living room.

“Sean? What are we doing here?”

“...This is my mom's place,” he whispers. “Was. Was my mom's place.”

“Oh, god...Sean...” I come up beside him to wind a comforting arm around his waist. He puts an arm over my shoulders.

“After we finally managed to get away from my dad, she wanted to stay close to me. And I wanted her close. She got this apartment when I was a freshman. Closest building to Hartfeld Stadium.”

He withdraws from my embrace and walks up to a cracked photo frame barely clinging to the wall. He wipes away the soot on the glass. Beneath it is a faded photo of a boy in a peewee football uniform. The smile is unmistakeably Sean's. On either side of him are his parents, proud and smiling.

“...I always hated that she kept this photo up,” he mutters. “She still loved him. After everything. After everything that bastard did to us, she still loved him. At least...she loved the old him. But that man was dead.”

“...Love is weird,” I mumur.

Sean lifts the picture from its hook and slumps down against the wall, staring at it. He blinks, and a few tears slip down his cheeks. I come to sit down beside him.

“...I wasn't here, Alodia. I told her I'd always protect her, and I wasn't here...”

I put an arm around him. “It's not your fault, Sean.”

“...That's all I was ever good at, you know? Taking the punishment so someone I care about doesn't have to. And for my mom, for the person that mattered most...I couldn't even do that.”

“We'll fix this. That's a promise.”

“You say that with such certainty. I don't know how you do it.” He looks at me and laughs, ruffling my hair. “Only you could make me look at the end of the world and think, 'Yeah, this is fixable.' It seems completely nuts. But I look at you...and I believe it.”

“I believe in us. All of us.” I chuckle a little to disguise the sob that bubbles up in my chest. “I don't even really have anyone out here to be worried about. You eleven...you're the most important people in the world to me. I haven't known any of you except Diego for very long, I know. ...But you don't go through what we've gone through without forming bonds.”

“Not usually,” he concedes.

“...We'll fix this. I promise we'll fix it. And you know I'll keep that promise, because I'm making it for you and all our friends. And I would crawl through hell for any one of you.”

“...Yeah. I believe you would. ...And every one of us would stand behind you.”

I stand and offer him a hand up. “Come on then, Heisman. World needs saving.” He takes my hand with a feeble smile and stands. Together, we head back down the street.

We return to the group to find them arguing amongst themselves.

“That's total conjecture!” Michelle protests. “You don't know that!”

“Since when are you the authority on what's possible on Loco Island?” Craig retorts.

“Guys, please! Let's not fight!” Grace pleads.

“Listen to Grace, you imbeciles!” Aleister snaps. “We must do whatever we can to prevent this future from happening.”

“Yeah...” Raj says. “...Uh...one problem. I don't think we're in the future.” He points with a trembling finger across the street to the entrance sign for Hartfeld University. In faded marquee letters, it reads: '2017 Summer Session begins this Monday, June 5th!'

“June fifth of this year?!” Zahra whispers.

“Oh, my god...that means this eruption would've happened around the day we...” Quinn trails off, gulping.

“The day we flew to La Huerta,” Michelle finishes.

“We're not in the future.” Sean lays it out in front of us, his voice low and quivering. “Distant or otherwise. We're in the present.”

“...The world ended six months ago,” Zahra says. “...We just got the memo.”

“But...how?”

I think back to the transmissions we heard at the observatory, to what Rourke said in the jungle as we marched towards Elyys'tel: “I strongly suspect that was an echo from our planet's likely future. Right now, we are in a bubble of time, safe for the moment. But an eruption of Mount Atropo risks plunging the planet itself into a prehistoric time, when all the world was lava. Civilization would immediately be engulfed in the fire of a bygone era.”

“The storm.” Jake's voice draws me back to the present. The dead, hellish present.

“You mean, all that turbulence on the way in?” Raj asks, his voice shaking. “The sudden dark clouds and the lightning?”

“Holy crap!” Diego runs his fingers through his dark hair. “That was Mount Atropo erupting. We flew straight through it into some...time bubble or something!”

“The island alone stayed safe,” Estela says grimly. “While the rest of the world burned.”

“Hold on!” Jake exclaims. “How does one volcano thousands of miles away do this?”

“All we know is Atropo's no ordinary volcano,” Grace answers. “It was a massive build-up of energy that tore space-time. Honestly, what this Earth reminds me of most...is when it was first forming. Before the crust cooled.”

“You're saying that the eruption somehow sent the planet back into...”

“...The Hadean Eon,” Aleister finishes.

“And everything and everyone was suddenly living on a molten rock,” Sean adds.

Quinn shudders. “That's...so horrible...”

“Worst game of 'The Floor is Lava' ever,” Diego declares without a hint of mirth.

Sean's head drops, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Okay then. There's no one left. There's nothing we can do here.”

Raj looks sharply at him, eyes going wide. “Aw, don't say it,” he moans. “Don't say it, dude--”

But Sean says it. “We have to go back.”

Raj shakes his head wildly. Throwing up his hands, he stalks away, muttering to himself. “This can't be happening! It can't be happening! It's a nightmare! I can't deal with this! I can't!”

“Guys, I think we finally broke Raj,” Zahra deadpans.

I cautiously approach Raj, who is gripping fistfuls of his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks. I keep my steps gentle, as if he were a particularly skittish horse. As soon as I'm close enough, I leap at him, throwing my arms around his neck. He stops pacing, stunned. I hang there, my feet not even touching the ground, dwarfed as I am by him, feeling him tremble in my embrace.

“We're here, Raj. We're here with you,” I murmur.

He lets out a shuddering breath and finally grips me back. “...Okay. I'm okay. I'm good now. Thanks, Alodia.” He snuggles me against him, and my breath comes out in an inelegant honk. “You're a good hugger, by the way.”

“You too, big guy.” Hearing the strain in my voice, he sets me down and ruffles my hair.

“Good hugger, but teeny tiny.”

Together, we head back towards the dorms. Just shy of the fire escape we climbed down, Diego stops and squints.

“What's up?”

“So, this might sound weird, but...does the horizon look...closer?”

We all stop and look out, following Diego's gaze.

“...That ain't right,” Jake says lowly.

“That's not the horizon,” Zahra exclaims. “That's a tsunami!”

“You know what? Hot take here, but a giant wave of water sounds pretty refreshing right now. I think the whole planet could use some--”

“It's a tsunami of lava, Craig!”

“Oh! Okay, yeah, that's bad.”

“Run!” Estela cries. “Up to the roof! Go!”

We scramble up the fire escape as the molten tsunami oozes toward us from a mile away, its progress slow but unrelenting.

“The Gate!” Quinn cries. “It's gone!”

“How the hell do we get it back open?!” Zahra shrieks.

I turn and see the wave of lava cresting, a churning wall of molten rock consuming everything in its path.

“Varyyn!” Diego cries. “He must've taken the Island's Heart out of the machine to get back to Elyys'tel!”

“So we're totally screwed then!” Michelle moans. “Great!”

“No!” I snap. “We're not! Not yet! Everyone shut up for a second!”

I close my eyes, desperately searching for Varyyn's presence in my consciousness. Varyyn! I call silently. Can you hear me?

I open my eyes and find myself back at MASADA, seeing through the elyyshar's eyes. He presses himself against a wall, concealing himself from patroling Arachnid soldiers. He checks the Heart in his satchel, secure among the eleven idols. He watches a patrol pass by and prepares to make his move forward. Suddenly, he freezes. He senses my presence, though he can't yet quite identify me. I wrap mental fingers around his presence, reaching back into my own body at Hartfeld and opening my eyes.

“I can reach him...I think...” I say, my voice strained with the mental effort. Diego clasps my hands and looks into my eyes.

“Help me, Varyyn,” he says, squeezing my hands. He can't seem to resist adding, “You're my only hope.”

I feel my consciousness pulled back into Varyyn's body. ...He hears Diego's call. Not in words, but the message gets through. Through our psychic link, through Diego, who is the link between our hearts.

“...Diego,” Varyyn whispers. “He's in danger...”

He whips around to go back the way he came, only to run straight into two Arachnid mercenaries. They raise their weapons.

“Freeze!”

Varyyn's hand shoots forward and clasps the nearest guard's throat in his powerful grip. With a low growl, he lifts the guard clean off the floor and slams him like a doll into the other guard. They both crumple and lie still. Varyyn sprints back to Theoretical Prismatics, not looking back. I hear the desperate prayer echoing in his mind. Diego...please be all right...please be safe...

He digs the Heart out of the satchel and places it delicately between the electrodes. Nothing happens.

“...No...” he whispers. “No!”

The wave of lava is surging ever closer. It will be on top of us in five minutes at most. Diego shrinks, staring at it. “Oh, holy mother of...”

“Something's wrong with the Gate!” I cry. “The Heart's in, but it's not turning on!”

“I...I think I can help,” Quinn says softly. “Maybe. I don't know what I can do from so far away, but I'll try...”

She closes her eyes, focusing. Scraps of debris start to swirl around her, lifting into the air.

“Here we go again,” Craig murmurs.

Quinn opens her eyes. They burn unearthly green, but her expression is grim. “No...I don't sense it...” Then she gasps. “Wait...There!”

I feel Varyyn desperately tapping keys on the command panel. Suddenly, he leaps back as the Heart begins to radiate a blinding light. The sphere splinters open, revealing the portal within.

“It's open!” Michelle cries.

I dare to detatch from Varyyn, teetering a little with the strain as a sphere of purple light materializes on the rooftop. The lava tsunami's shadow darkens the sky, towering over us.

“Go!” I scream. Everyone runs for the portal, leaping through one by one. Behind me, Grace stumbles, falling hard to the deck. An eroded crossbeam falls across her ankle, pinning her down.

“Grace!” Aleister cries

“Go!” Sean orders. “I've got her!”

He runs back and heaves the crossbeam off of Grace. Lifting her easily into his arms, he runs back to the portal, diving through. Diego grabs my hand.

“Allie, come on!” He pulls me through the portal just as the wave descends onto the rooftop. It leaves a blast of heat in its wake that follows me into the portal. The world flashes white, and suddenly I faceplant into cold, rusted steel. For a moment, I lay flat against it, relief flooding through me at the blessed coolness. I'm not the only one.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Craig cries. I'm not sure who he's thanking, but he's kissing the floor.

“...Considering how many pairs of feet have probably walked across this floor, that's a little disgusting,” I say wryly.

“Totally don't care!” he retorts.

I slowly push myself upright, counting my friends off as I see them. Craig, Zahra, Jake, Sean, Estela, Raj, Michelle...Aleister is cradling Grace...

“Quinn? Are you--”

“I'm okay,” she assures me. “And I'm me.”

Diego picks himself up and runs into Varyyn's waiting arms. Varyyn holds Diego tightly, kissing his hair.

“You are all right,” he whispers, a quiver in his voice. “I-I came as quickly as I could...”

“Did ya miss me?” Diego quips.

Varyyn pulls back just a little, cupping Diego's cheek and searching his face. “Why did you come back? What did you see?”

Together, haltingly, we fill Varyyn in on the details. He frowns deeply. “...This does not make sense. Perhaps Uqzhaal will have answers. We must return to Elyys'tel.”

“The gondola,” Quinn says. “We can get out that way, if we hurry. Security's still scrambled, right? Maybe we can get across before they realize what's happening.”

“Agreed. That's the plan, then. Find our way back to the gondola, get back to Elyys'tel and regroup--”

“No. No, enough!”

Everyone falls silent, looking over at Aleister where he sits cradling Grace on his lap. For the first time, I realize that there is smoke rising from her singed hair. Her face is flushed, her breathing shallow.

“Aleister...”

“Enough plans! Enough adventures! Enough!”

Jake comes to put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, Malfoy, just--” Aleister swats his hand away sharply.

“No!” he snarls. “We almost lost Grace! Do you fail to realize that?! She almost died just now! And we all could have joined her! Why? We are fighting against something we cannot possibly understand, and we will all die!”

“...We'll be all right, bro,” Craig says gently.

“Aleister, I promise you. I won't let anything happen--”

Aleister wheels on Sean. “Ah, of course! And you've never failed to keep a promise, is that right, Sean?” Sean recoils as if stung.

“Hey!” I bark. “That was totally uncalled for!”

Aleister turns his wrath on me. “Don't you understand?! He can't promise that! No one can promise anything anymore! The world is gone! The future is gone! We've lost! It's over! It's all over!”

I meet his furious gaze with my own, but around me, everyone is silent, looking uncomfortably at the floor.

“...What are you thinking, Allie?” Diego asks softly.

“All I know is that I'm not quitting,” I say fiercely. “As long as any of us are alive, I'll give my last breath to keep it that way, if that's what it takes.”

“I couldn't imagine anything less from you,” Sean says with a weak smile.

“You're a damned fool, Alodia Chandler,” Aleister declares flatly. Grace's moans a little, her eyes fluttering. She still looks flushed, but she has managed to catch her breath. She focuses on Aleister above her.

“Aleister...” she croaks. “I know it looks bad...unfathomably bad...But there's always hope. There has to be.”

Aleister's lips quiver. “I wish I could believe that...”

“Okay, so are we making a run for the gondola or not?” Zahra asks. “Clock's ticking.”

“It always is,” Aleister mutters. But he helps Grace to her feet. “...Let's go, then.”

Varyyn returns my backpack to me, still containing the Heart and the idols. I slip it on, but after a moment, I pass the Heart back to him.

“Hang onto this. It belongs to your people.”

He regards me thoughtfully for a moment, and then nods, slipping the Heart into his own satchel. We make our move, carefully avoiding the patrols as we scurry through the corridors of the MASADA complex. To my relief, the Andromeda armor doesn't seem to make a lot of noise. Almost none, in fact. If I were less distracted, I might wonder about that. But right now, all we can focus on is getting out.

“I think we're almost there,” Zahra whispers as we near the entrance. Beside me, Quinn walks with a stoic expression on her face.

“Quinn? You holding up okay?”

“Hmm? Oh...I think so.”

“You saved us back there. Somehow you were able to connect with the Island's Heart, even from thousands of miles away. So...thank you. I know it's scary to let that...that thing take over.”

“Not as scary as losing you guys. ...I know this is serious. Each time I do it, I feel it lingering more and more. But in a way, I'm used to it. I'm used to knowing something in my body will eventually destroy me.”

“The same goes for all of us,” I say softly, taking her hand and squeezing it. “All of us are temporary. Every last one of us is a physical thing that weathers away...killed by the very thing we were trying to keep alive. It's unfair that you're facing this so young. But I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this. Because you're not.”

“I guess you're right. This is a part of life. And my time is now.” She sighs. “So nothing's changed from before I came here. If my own body is still going to erase me, then I'm going to do all the good I can with the time I have.”

“Good for you. And in the meantime, you have a damned fool like me who's going to fight tooth and nail to keep you all alive for as long as humanly possible.”

She manages to crack a smile. A clattering from up above catches our attention. Aleister has tripped over a pristine white trash can, spilling its contents to the floor.

“Are you trying to attract attention?!” Estela hisses.

“Oh, gross!” Raj exclaims. “Get away from that, yo! That bin says 'Biohazard Disposal' on it! That means poop! Or blood! Or blood poop!”

“Nasty, dude,” Craig says with a shudder. “Please don't use those words together.”

Aleister and the others continue walking, but I pause by the overturned bin. I don't see anything gross in there. Just some crumpled paper and...

“Oh, shit!” I hiss.

Lying among the discarded balls of paper is a small amber statue of a man in priestly robes, bearing the head of a cobra. This is it...the final idol...

“A catalyst idol!” Quinn gasps. “Are you gonna take it?”

I delicately pick up the idol with two fingers and lift it out of the garbage pile. I close my eyes, bracing myself for visions. But nothing happens.

“...Are you okay, Alodia?” Quinn asks. “You're making a funny face.”

I open my eyes. ...Right. Aleister and I both need to be touching the idol to invite the visions. I glance at Aleister, walking ahead with the rest of the group.

“...Yeah. I'm fine. Just...distracted.”

“Come on. Let's catch up with the others.” I slip the idol into my bag with the others and follow Quinn down the hall.

“What was something so important doing in a trash bin of all places?” Quinn muses. “And why a biohazard one?”

“Maybe someone was trying to hide it?” I suggest. “Rourke was so keen on getting these. I can't believe he'd just throw one out.”

Up ahead, Jake reaches a closed automatic doorway and hits the touch panel. It beeps and flashes.

“Access denied. Crap. Looks like we hit a dead end.”

“Let me try,” Aleister says softly. “I was able to activate my father's computer at The Celestial...” He presses his hand to the panel. It flashes green and the door slides open.

“Nicely done! I knew you'd come in handy.” Jake pauses for a reaction, but Aleister just stares at him. “...I'll stop.”

“Puns aren't really your strong suit, Top Gun,” I quip. “Stick with giving out silly nicknames.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. “Your wish is my command, Princess.”

We continue through the winding halls of MASADA. Presently, a set of video monitors along the wall flickers to life. On every screen, Everett Rourke smiles serenely.

“Hello, Aleister.”

“Dammit,” Estela hisses. “He's onto us.”

“I received an alert that my DNA signature was being used to access restricted areas,” Rourke explains. “Finding this curious, as you are to be in custody, I reviewed my security systems, only to find a very subtle worm manipulating its data. No doubt the work of Zahra Namazi. My dear guests, you are every bit as resourceful as I could have hoped.”

“Ignore him,” I murmur. “Keep moving.”

We pick up the pace, threading faster through the halls. But around every bend is another monitor showing Rourke's unnatural grin.

“Oh, Junior, how your recent cleverness makes me regret all the time we spent apart. Perhaps you would've been a worthy successor after all.”

“Does this guy ever shut up?” Michelle growls. I see Aleister slowing down slightly.

“He's messing with you, Aleister,” I remind him.

“Sure, tell him he's his father's puppet,” Estela mutters. “That'll help.”

“No, Alodia is right,” Aleister says flatly. “My father manipulates everyone around him.”

“Aleister, look!” Grace exclaims.

Straight ahead is another hallway connecting two wards of the complex, with sealed hatches at each end.

“The security station is here. I'll try to override using my father's ID.”

“I must admit I was wrong about you,” Rourke continues on the monitor. “The way you've handled yourself. The way you've defied overwhelming odds. After all this time, you've come into your own. You remind me...of myself.”

“The cretin thinks I'll fall for this,” Aleister growls through clenched teeth. He taps through several screens, then presses his hand down. The first door slides open, and we run inside.

“We're in! Just one more hatch and we're through, Aleister!”

“On it.”

“I handled this all wrong,” Rourke confesses on the screen. “I discarded you, and now you will be my undoing. But that is not what breaks my heart. What breaks my heart is knowing how this will end. Knowing that I drove you to this. Knowing that I drove you to get your friends killed.”

Aleister hesitates a moment. “...What...?”

“You're more like me than either of us ever wished to admit. Too stubborn to admit when we're in over our heads. All I can do is think about what we could have accomplished together. Together, we could have restored the world. We could have undone the harm of the terrible eruption. How we could have built a paradise for us...for your friends...For Grace...” Aleister freezes. “We could have even saved your mother. And now, because of what I've done to drive you away...my son, you're going to erase the only chance we had at bringing her back.”

I watch Aleister's expression settle into a cold, emotionless mask and I feel my blood run cold.

“Wait!” I scream. “Aleister! Don't!”

He meets my eyes for just an instant. “...I'm sorry.”

His hand moves. I rush towards him. The first hatch slams shut in front of me, trapping us all inside. I throw myself against the door, pounding it with my fists. “No! Aleister!”

“What the hell?!”

“He locked us in!”

“Aleister!” Grace cries pleadingly. “What are you doing?! Let us through!”

Aleister steps up to the small porthole in the hatch. His voice is only slightly muffled through it. “This is for your own good. I know you'll see that one day.”

“You slimy son-of-a-bitch!” Jake roars. “You've got five seconds to rethink this!”

“Open the hatch!” Estela snarls. “Now!”

Grace steps up to the glass, just inches from Aleister. “How could you...?”

“Don't you understand? My father's right. He's always been right.” He shakes his head mournfully. “If we keep running, we'll all be killed. We'll be as dead as those skeletons back in Hartfeld. Jake? Sean? Estela? They can't protect you. Not from this. So if they won't keep you from getting killed, Grace...I will.”

“By selling us out to your father?!” she cries, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“He's a genius. He built this facility. Built that Gate. If there's anyone who can fix this...anyone who can protect us...it's him.”

“Dude, he's evil!” Diego protests.

“You don't think I know that? But right now, he's our only chance. You'll thank me one day. You'll live to thank me. That's what counts.”

The doors behind Aleister open, and several Arachnid troops surge through. I slump against the wall, barely keeping upright for the despair flooding through me.

“...You're wrong, Aleister,” I growl. “You're so, so goddamn wrong.”

“I'm not stupid, Alodia. I don't expect you to understand this yet. You will.”

“Oh, but you are stupid, Aleister,” Estela says flatly. “You just signed your death warrant.”

“Stay back!” an Arachnid soldier barks.

Aleister turns away, letting the troops close in. When they have us covered from every angle, they open the hatch.

“Out! Slowly! Hands in the air!”

We raise our hands, cautiously stepping out into the control room. A dozen submachine guns are aimed point-blank at us.

“Any great ideas about now, Cap?” Jake murmurs to Sean.

“I've got nothin',” Sean admits.

The soldiers part to allow Rourke through, followed by Lundgren and Lila. Rourke smirks at us.

“I must say, I'm getting quite the sense of deja vu at the moment,” he drawls. “Then again, we all know how this place plays tricks with time.”

“That's the last time you make me chase you, Wolf,” Lundgren growls, pinning Jake with a hateful gaze.

“Gettin' tired?” Jake spits. “I could do this all day, you mechanized sack of--”

Rourke holds up a hand. He looks over at me, Zahra, Sean, and Craig. “So. You four entered disguised. Quite brilliant. Was this your plan, Alodia?”

“We're a team,” I answer flatly.

“How delightfully humble. Now then...” He steps up to Varyyn, who is barely being restrained by three soldiers. Ignoring the struggle, he reaches into the satchel at Varyyn's waist and withdraws the Island's Heart.

“No!” Varyyn snarls as Rourke turns the shimmering orb over in his hands, marveling at it.

“It's beautiful, isn't it, Lila?”

“Yes, Mr. Rourke. It is.”

“So much energy in such a small thing. It seems I've never been more wrong in my life.”

“You talking about the day you picked out that suit?” Jake sneers.

Rourke ignores him. “For years, I believed that the eleven of you would lead me to the Endless. That you were the key to unlocking its secrets. But all this time, your destiny was to lead me to this.”

“Father? I don't understand.”

“I no longer have use for the Endless. I no longer have use for any of you. I must thank you, frankly.”

“So you'll keep them safe?” Aleister asks anxiously. “As you said. You will not harm them?”

Rourke raises an eyebrow at his son. “Are you kidding? Of course I won't harm them. I've no reason to.”

“Tell that to your rabid dog,” Estela growls.

“Easy, pipsqueak,” Lundgren snaps.

“I'm talking about her, dumbass!” Lila shrinks under Estela's furious gaze.

“I've no reason to harm them at all,” Rourke repeats. “Provided they don't give me one.”

Aleister looks from his father to me, stepping close to me. “Well?” There is a plea in his eyes and his voice. “Will you let me keep you safe? Will you surrender peaceably?”

I look around at my friends, one by one. I see Varyyn straining to reach the Island's Heart, Lundgren looking at Jake like he's a meal. I see Estela glaring at Lila, and the vision of the Draco idol flashes in my mind, her helpless rage as Rourke pressed the barrel of his pistol to her forehead. I feel my heart sinking. More of the terrifying visions granted by the idols flash through my mind. So many of them seem destined to die at MASADA. Craig, killed by Tetra covering our escape. Diego, gunned down by Iris trying to free Varyyn. Jake and I seem to spend five years imprisoned here, he in a cell and me in a stasis pod, both of us powerless to save anyone. Zahra will free Jake in time, but she'll be murdered by Rourke in the end. And Jake will free me, only to be gunned down in front of me.

...Will I even be burying bodies in that cave? Will my friends keep burying each other until I can complete the task, the last one left alive?

Eleven graves. Only one left alive. Alone. ...And it all begins with Aleister. I feel rage bubble up in me, and I glare up at Aleister. I gave him my trust. I gave him my care and my friendship. And he spat on it. I spit back, directly into his face. He flinches, wiping away the glob.

“Boom!” Craig snickers. “Got 'im!”

“My turn next!” Zahra declares.

Aleister sighs. “Making this easy on yourselves, I see.”

I lock my gaze with his. “Did you expect anything else from me?”

He regards me angrily, but I can see the desperation behind his eyes. “...You're a damned fool, Alodia Chandler.”

“Well, well,” Rourke murmurs. “Perhaps they are still a problem.”

Aleister wheels to face his father. “No! They're not! They can't do anything! Just lock them up until this is over!” His hands ball into fists. “Father, please...”

Rourke regards his son for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Very well,” he says at last. “We shall imprison you in moderate comfort until the conclusion of this...experiment.”

“We had a deal, Rourke,” Lundgren growls.

“And I will keep my bargain, as I said, at the conclusion.”

“Better hope you do.”

Jake laughs bitterly. “Look at you taking orders, Lundgren. I see a spot on Rourke's shoes that could use a licking.”

“Your time's comin', Wolf,” Lundgren sneers. “Sooner than ya think.” He turns on his heel and marches out.

“Relieve them of their belongings, then take them below,” Rourke orders.

Aleister grabs for my bag, but I hold fast to it, pulling sharply back on it. The snake-headed idol, sitting on top, tumbles out, clinking on the floor. We both reach for it at once, and our fingers brush it at the same time. MASADA dissolves around me before I have a moment to prepare.

I'm in an unfamiliar auditorium. Men and women in expensive business attire fill the seats, regarding the speaker with serious expressions. On the stage, pacing back and forth in the frame of a bold white spotlight is Everett Rourke.

“...Which brings us to my final point,” he is saying. “That, in the end, for all our technology, for all our progress, we are still collectively bound to the same wheel as our ancestors were, ten thousand years ago. We are born. We age. Sometimes, we breed. And then, we die. For all our acheivements, all our victories and defeats, all our moments of joy and sorrow, we end up nothing but dust. We have shattered the atom, set foot on the moon, built networks that instantly connect the whole world. And yet, we are still slaves to time. This, then, is the true final frontier. Not space. Not life. But time. And Rourke International, as always, will lead the way.”

The audience bursts into applause. But Aleister, seated in the audience, keeps his arms crossed, his expression skeptical.

The conference ends and Rourke makes his way off the stage as the audience begins to disperse. He shakes hands with a few colleagues, but as he steps out back, Aleister is ready to meet him.

“Father.”

Rourke raises an eyebrow. “Aleister. This is an unexpected surprise. What are you doing at RourkeCon?”

“I was in town for an interview, and I thought I would stop by. ...Had to buy my own ticket, of course.”

“Invitations are for Rourke Employees.” Rourke makes a show of looking over the front of Aleister's shirt. “...And I don't see your badge.”

“You know damn well I don't work for you,” Aleister snaps.

Rourke shrugs. “I only hire the very best.”

“And I...” Aleister trails off, taking a deep breath to collect himself. “...I thought you should know. I've been accepted into a Master's program. It's at the Hoffman-Conahan School for Business. The most prestigious business program in the country. They've offered me a full scholarship.”

“Hm. Is that all?”

Aleister visibly deflates. “Well, I...I just thought you should...”

“By the time I was your age, I'd built a prototype jetpack with my bare hands. I'd climbed Kilimanjaro. I'd made myself a millionaire. And you expect me to...what? Pat you on the back because my name got you into some fancy little grad program?”

“It wasn't your name!” Aleister protests. “I did it! I earned it!”

“Tell yourself whatever you want, son. Come to me when you've actually done something worth praising. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do believe I have a jet to catch.”

Rourke does not wait to be excused before turning on his heel and striding away from his fuming son. Aleister grits his teeth, curling his hands into fists.

“I'll prove you wrong, you bastard,” he growls under his breath. “I'll make it all on my own. ...I don't need you.” …

… The auditorium washes away and I find myself in the master bedroom of the Elysian Resort. Aleister sits alone on the bed, gazing out the window at the snow-covered mountains. Shadows underneath his haunted eyes stand out starkly against his pale skin.

“Well, well,” he murmurs. “So it's come to this.”

There's a knock at the door. Aleister rises, steadying himself with the help of a polished wooden cane, and turns toward the door.

“Come in.”

An Arachnid soldier enters, holding a report. “Sir.”

“Well?” Aleister asks impatiently. “Don't dilly-dally. How bad is it?”

“Namazi's Killswitch virus has decimated our operation, sir. MASADA, the Observatory, the Daedalus station...they're all gone. Our force is down to less than a dozen men. We're on the ropes.”

“...The Celestial?”

“Still ours. But the Hostiles are on the march. They'll retake it by sunrise.”

“And...my father?”

“I'm sorry, sir. He's dead. Namazi shot him.”

“I see...So what did you add up to, old man? What did you end up in the end? Nothing but dust.” He turns to the window and stares out at the snowy landscape, and the towering columns of smoke reaching up from all over the island. “...Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair. ...But enough self-pity. Time to work.”

He turns back towards the door, but the soldier isn't there anymore. He's lying on the floor with a knife in his back. I realize that I am looking straight at Aleister now. I look down and see the soldier lying at my feet. There is blood on my hands. On my clothes. I look back up at Aleister.

“You. Traitor.” My voice is somewhere between a hiss and a snarl.

“Alodia!” Aleister staggers back, pressing against the glass. “H...how are you...you're supposed to be...”

I pace towards him, trembling hands clenched into fists. Furious tears clog my throat, making my voice into something inhuman.“You lied to us, you bastard. You sold us out. To Rourke! And for what? A seat at his table? A pat on the back?”

“I did what I had to do. I don't regret it.”

With a wild cry, I charge across the room, cornering him against the glass, pinning him with a forearm against his throat.

“They're all dead, you son-of-a-bitch!” I scream. “Everyone I love in the world, and they're all gone! Because of your father! Because of you!”

“You can't blame me for every single thing that went wrong on this island!” he protests.

“I can blame your father! And instead of standing up to him, you took his side. You chose him over us.” I name my losses out loud, punctuating each name by slamming him against the glass, which starts to crack with the force of my fury. “Over Raj! And Michelle! Over Zahra! And Craig! And Diego! Over Jake! And Estela! And Sean! And Quinn! Over Grace!”

Each blow makes Aleister grunt through clenched teeth, but at the last name, his eyes soften, filling with tears. He takes a deep breath. “...Whatever you're going to do, Alodia, do it. Otherwise, you're just wasting time. And time is all we have.”

“...In another life, Aleister, I think you could've been a good person,” I say softly. “...But not this one.”

I shove him hard with both hands. He falls backwards, the window shattering behind him. He screams as he plummets, only silencing when he finally smashes into cold, hard earth below...

… Back in MASADA, Aleister tears the idol from my grip and stuffs it back into my bag.

“Stop,” he says firmly. “It's over, Alodia.”

I meet his eyes, glaring at him. All I can see is the shocked look on his face as he fell, dead by my hand.

“...Not yet it's not.” For a moment, I could swear he looks afraid of me. Then he joins the guards in piling our things in the corner. Rourke smiles approvingly.

“Good work, my boy. Meet me in my office.”

“Wait! I...I don't want Grace to be imprisoned.” Aleister moves towards Grace, holding his arms out to her. “I'll make sure you're treated well and--”

The crack of her palm against his cheek rings out like a gunshot. Aleister recoils, clutching the stinging red mark on the side of his face.

“Don't you speak to me ever again!” she screams, tears streaming from her eyes.

Aleister regards her for a moment, without anger or surprise. He simply nods. As he goes, he pauses. “...I still want her kept in her own residence. Not a cell.”

“Very well,” Rourke agrees. He snaps his fingers at a mercenary, who grabs a weeping Grace and drags her off after Aleister. The rest of us are left alone with Rourke, Lila, and enough Arachnid troops to keep us all restrained. They grab us by the arms, holding us still.

“So are we back to the Ghostbusters part now?” Diego asks.

“You mean the containment pods?” Rourke asks. “Oh, no, no, no. That's no longer necessary. Lila?”

Lila steps forward. “Yes, Mr. Rourke?”

Rourke smirks at us, and turns his gaze to Lila. “Kill them all.”

[ddaddsprompts]

How would the dads react to seeing scars all over Dadsona's torso?

This ask is dark, so I totally understand if you don’t feel comfortable answering it. How would the dads react to their boyfriend confessing that they were raped before they met Alex, and they have PTSD because of it? 

Please note that for Brian’sscene, since he theoretically saw Dadsona’s naked torso during the fishing datein canon, I chose to change that so he sees the scars for the first time onlylater.Also, Robert’s scene begins with a flashback that doesn’t describe the actualact, but I still wanted to warn you. Just skip the first paragraph (it’s italicized)to avoid that.

Put under read-more because of the subject matter. - Mod Mare

🥃 Help, you screamed, but the hands pressing down your neck trapped thesound in your throat. You struggled, clawed, thrashed, but you were too weak,he hovered above you, knife in his hand and—

“Y/N!” You sit up so fast, you nearly getwhiplash. Your heart is beating hard in your throat, making it impossible tospeak. You claw at your skin, trying to ease the tension, but hands grip yoursand pull them off again. “Y/N, calm down, ‘s just me.” The rational, logicalpart of your brain recognises the voice and tries to convince your sub-consciousnessto calm down again, but your fight-or-flight instincts are flaring. Youstruggle against the strong arms that envelop you, try to push against thestrong chest you’re pulled against, but the other person is stronger. “JesusChrist, kid!” Rough, calloused hands rub patterns into your skin;normally, someone touching your back, your scars, would have send you evendeeper into panic, but the feeling of those hands in particular triggers yourbrain. You still, blinking fully awake. Robert carefully draws back, but keeps hisarms around your waist. His face, normally so unreadable, is like an open booknow, literally displaying his concern and worry. “Wanna talk about it?” Yourfirst instinct is to say no and act like nothing happened, but you’re tooexhausted to lie. Extracting a hand, you pull up your shirt. Robert’s facecloses off, but not fast enough, you see a flicker of pure, cold fury in hiseyes. “I was raped,” you whisper. “Before Alex. I still suffer.” Robert gritshis teeth. He takes a deep breath to calm down, then pulls you close again. “Fuckinghell, kid, I’m sorry. I’ll find that fucker and castrate him.” Despite thesituation, you laugh, which eventually turns into crying. Robert holds you wordlessly,offering his silent support.

🍸 You stare down at the small device in your hands, which you’d bought justfor this, but it was no guarantee Joseph wouldn’t recognise you. The priestside of the confessional booth is opened. Even though the wall separating youmostly obscures the view, the silhouette is visible and it looks familiar. Allyour remaining doubts are washed away when Joseph speaks. “There’s no need tobe shy or nervous. I’m here to help you.” You switch on the device, hoping itwould completely alter your voice. “Father, I…” Though you had prepared exactlywhat you want to say, now the words won’t come. You close your eyes. “I’vewithheld important information from my partner even though I know I should tellthem.”“I’m not a priest, so there’s no need to call me ‘father’. Minister more thansuffices. Now, of what nature is the information you’re talking about? Are youcomfortable telling me that?”You exhale. “I… I was raped. Before them. I have scars… a-all over my chest.A-and… I suffer f-from… that. Even though it’s been so long…” You shudder andwrap your arms around yourself. Joseph, on the other side of the wall, shiftsin his seat. “I’m so sorry to hear that… why haven’t you told your partner yet?What stops you?” With shaking hands, you turn off the device again. Count toten once more. Inhale. Speak. “Because I’m scared he might not want to be withme anymore.” A second goes by. You hear Joseph gasp, then, the scrape of achair being pulled backwards across the floor. The door to your side is thrownopen and Joseph pulls you into his arms, guiding your face into the crook ofhis neck. “Y/N, I’d never leave you because of something like that. I love you,so much. I’m sorry you suffered so.” You sob and cling to him.

☕ A few weeks ago, you scared Mat by hiding behind the door and jumpingout to startle him. He doesn’t peck you as the type of person to take hisrevenge – after all, he’d reacted pretty chill, once he got past his initialsurprise – so you didn’t expect any kind of payback, certainly not after somuch time has passed. Naturally, that’s when Mat strikes. Your computer pings,alerting you to an incoming message on DadBook just after you entered yourbedroom to get dressed for your date with Mat. Throwing the towel on your bed,you walk up to the desk to see who it was. Suddenly, something comes jumpingout from under the desk. You scream and stumble backwards, your knee-pits hitthe bed and you fall onto it, now crying too. “Shit, babe, I’m so sorry, I didn’tmean to startle you—“ Mat falls silent once he notices the scars on your nakedchest. Had you been in control of yourself, you would have tried to coveryourself, but you are shaking in panic, still screaming at the top of yourlungs, probably loud enough to alert the whole cul-de-sac. Carefully,exaggerating his movements, Mat sits down next to you and wraps an arm aroundyou. You tense, but the familiar smell of coffee and his soothing voice pushthrough the fog of fear, just enough for you to realise it’s him. Mat gentlypulls you close, your head in his lap, and cups your face in his hands. “I’m sosorry, babe. I didn’t mean to…” You numbly shake your head and curl in onyourself. An hour later, once you’ve calmed down somewhat, you tell him whereyour scars come from. He sings to you, his voice trembling and tears in hiseyes, as he holds you.

🌹 Damien told you about him being trans late week and ever since, you wondered. Asked yourself whether you shouldtell him of your own secret, about your own scars. He trusted you with his, theleast you could do was return the gesture, but truth be told, you’re scared.And apparently, Damien could tell something is bothering you. You’d never beenthe best at hiding your emotions, but after,you became good at burying your wounds under layers of awkwardness and badjokes. Around Damien, your usual attempts at misdirection don’t work. Ifanything, they seem to make things worse. Half an hour after he came back fromwork, Damien asks you to join him in his study. His face is blank, but hiscontrol does not extend to his eyes. “Y/N,” he begins once you’re seated. “Eversince I told you, you’ve been acting strange and you seem tense. If you’re notcomfortable with me being trans, please just tell me, so—““I was raped,” you say. The words just slipped off your tongue and now they areout, you cannot take them back. “Before Alex. It still affects me. I get nightmares.Panic attacks. I have scars, physical, all over my torso, and mental. You’re…you’re the second person I ever told. I didn’t know whether I should…” You buryyour face in your hands, taking deep, deliberate breaths. There’s a shufflingnoise before Damien wraps his arms around you. You lean into him, stifling asob. “I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t… Thank you for telling me.” Gently,Damien squeezes you, whispering reassurances into your hair.

🎣 Brian runs his hand along your spine, feelingeach individual vertebra through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deepbreath and try to push down the flames of anxiety that threaten to flare upinside your chest. It’s one of those rare evenings where Daisy isn’t at homeand you and Brian have the house all to yourselves. The credits of the movieyou watched continue running on screen, but neither of you pay much attentionto it. So far, you haven’t really been intimate, but something tells you itmight happen tonight. Maybe it’s the way he kept on touching you throughout themovie, kissing your cheek, lips and neck, maybe it’s that look in his eyes, theintensity. The rush of fear cursing through your veins at the thought makes youtense. Brian immediately stills, his hands settling on your hips, and looks atyou with a concerned expression. “Are you okay? I can stop-“ You shake yourhead and sit up. You’ve been dreading this conversation from the get-go, butyou’d rather he learns of it now thanlater because of an anxiety attack or worse. Under Brian’s questioning gaze,you slowly lift your shirt over your head. You clutch it to your chest, lookinganywhere but him, afraid of what you’d see. “Oh babe…” Brian whispers. “Whathappened?” You inhale, exhale; the pressure on your lungs still doesn’tdisappear. “Before Alex… I was… I was r-raped. I-I still get n-nightmares.” Hedoesn’t say anything for a while, just looks at you as if he was mourning. Thenhe pulls you into his arms, holding you close, and murmurs sweet nothings whileyou cry into his shoulder.

👟 Craig has seen the scars before, first incollege, then when you went on your camping trip the other day after meetingagain against all the odds, but he never asked where they are from. You havethe strong feeling he’s waiting for you to be ready to tell him about it andeven if you’d never be, he would respect it. The girls are at their mother’stoday, which means a relaxing day for the two of you. You’re chilling on Craig’sbed and you’re considering dozing off when Craig catches your attention byhumming. You roll over on your side and cock your head with a questioning look.“You know how I still have the numbers of a few old college buddies?” You justnod and gesture for him to continue. “Well, one of them forwarded me another bro’snumber and they just asked about you. Do you remember RedRocket Keith?” Themoment he says that name, your blood runs cold. Vaguely, you’re aware of Craigcalling your name, but it’s like your head is submerged under water and he’smiles away. You struggle as arms wrap themselves around you, but when the distinctscent of Craig fills your nose, you go limp, burying your face in his neck. Hecalmly guides you through breathing exercises until your heart stops racing,then continues to hold you, not asking what that was about, giving you all thetime you need. You lick your lips, struggling to find words. “I… r-rememberhim. E-every goddamn day. He haunts my dreams. H-He… h-he… at th-that party…he-he r-rap—“Craig gently shushes you. “I understand, bro, I understand. I’m so sorry. Iwish I’d known…” You weakly shake your head, relishing in the warmth of hisstrong embrace.

📖 Quizzmaster Quinn is sick, so Hugo and you go to a nearby restaurant knownfor its excellent food. You’re a bit disappointed, having looked forward to theparadise that was delicious cheeses and an excited Hugo, but he cheers you upagain, so that, by the time you’re seated and order, you’re grinning again.That is, until your eyes spot a familiar-looking face at the back of the room.Rationally, you know it can’t be him,but that doesn’t stop your instincts from going haywire, your brain sendingadrenaline through your whole body in preparation for your flight. Because yousure as hell wouldn’t fight. Hugo says something, but it’s as if you two areseparated by a wall of cotton; his voice is muted, barely understandable. “I-Ineed to use the bathroom,” you excuse yourself, then you’re on your feetalready, practically running. You throw closed the door, but it opens a fewseconds later as Hugo comes rushing inside. He immediately puts his hands onyour shoulders. You see his mouth moving, but no sound reaches your ears for awhile, the ringing in your head too loud. It takes minutes, but finally, youcalm down again. Hugo guides you to lean against the wall. “Y/N, what’s wrong? I’venever seen you so panicked.” You can’t help but snort at that. That’s not eventhe worst panic attack you’ve ever had. “I…” You hesitate, but his concernedexpression convinces you to say it. “There was a man… he looked…like… t-the manwho… r-raped m-me and l-left me with dozens of scars.” Hugo’s eyes go wide. Youexpect him to bury you in questions, demand names and all, but he surprises youby silently taking you into his arms. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t know.” Hekisses the top of your head and squeezes you. Wrapped in his strong arms, youfeel safe and protected.