#grew up listening to country ofc but he was my first new find

[muirneach]

‘modern country music isnt conservative!’ i cry, as i press play on a colter wall track for the millionth time

[440mxs-wife]

Treasure Quest, Chapter 3: Meeting the Crew

Pairing: Captain Dean x Rhaya Payton (OFC, eventual) Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jack Kline, Gabriel, Arthur Ketch, Lucifer. Governor Darius Payton, Ashton Kane, Damon Sharpe (OMC’s). Carissa, Darcy, Captain Keira (OFC’s)

Word Count: 5057

Warnings: Arranged marriage, overbearing stepmother, scheming fiancé, Captain Dean is a bit less of a jerk to Rhaya, a pinch of misogyny if you squint, ruthless pirates, search for buried treasure.

Series Summary: Rhaya Payton is the daughter of the governor of Ochana. She grew up listening to her father tell her stories of pirates and treasure maps. At a gala one night, her stepmother, Carissa, announces Rhaya’s engagement to Ashton Kane, a wealthy nobleman. Only problem is, no one checked with Rhaya first. After overhearing plans made by her fiancé, Rhaya decides to go on the run and stows away on Captain Dean’s ship. What will happen when he finds her?

This Chapter: Rhaya is settling into her quarters, but there’s still some lingering tension between her and Captain Dean. Eventually, Rhaya meets the rest of the crew, befriending young Jack and embarrassing Gabriel. Meanwhile, back in Ochana, meetings are occurring between old friends and new enemies to discover Rhaya’s whereabouts. Will Captain Dean make it to his home port with Rhaya safely, or will they be intercepted by outside forces?

A/N: Thank you so much to whomever has discovered, liked, commented and reblogged this and any of my works. I am grateful for everyone’s support on here more than I can ever express.❤️ Special shout-out to @deanwanddamons and @deandreamernp for your lovely comments on this story, because it helps keep me going with it. Thank you and enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam and Bobby returned from showing Rhaya to her room, only to be met by Captain Dean waiting in the hallway, his arms folded across his chest. The men brushed past their captain on their return to the upper deck, while he fell into step behind them.

"Did you get the princess settled into her luxury suite?" Dean remarked sarcastically.

Though their captain couldn't see it, both men rolled their eyes at Dean's question. "Yes, she's probably unpacking right now. I told her we'd go back down a little later to bring her up on deck and introduce her to the crew," Bobby informed him as they walked.

"This ain't a pleasure cruise, Bobby, we are a cargo transport ship. We take stuff from Point A to Point B, and then we get paid for doing so. Sometimes we provide protection and act as an escort for other cargo ships going through dangerous waters. If we're not currently under contract--like now--we're trying to find The Shadow Pirate's treasure. And no one, least of all an overindulged--"

Bobby waited until they got nearer to the upper deck before rounding on Dean, his finger pointed in his captain's face. "Now you wait just a damn minute. Rhaya is the daughter of the top government official in a country we do business with from time to time. Yes, she stowed away on your ship, but she had her reasons. She's more than proven to you that she's not some wilting, delicate flower, so it would be in your best interest to cut her a break," Bobby retorted.

"Dean, you've made it abundantly clear that you don't like her," Sam pointed out. "She's definitely aware of it and was pretty upset about it when we left her. You haven't even tried to get to know her, you just assumed that she's like all the rest of the women you've met," he muttered.

"Fine. I will try to lay off with the snarky remarks towards her, as long as she stays out of the way," Dean conceded. "Will that make you two happy?"

Bobby's eyes turned skyward and muttered something under his breath about his captain being a stubborn idjit. By the time Dean caught on to what was said, Bobby had already made his way on deck and was supervising the crew.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Rhaya woke from her nap, she stretched her arms above her head. She reached for the small pendant watch her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday. Tears briefly sprung to her eyes when her fingers traced the inscription on the back. It was then that she realized how much she missed him. However, as homesick as she might be, there was no way she could go back and be married to Ashton. Her only hope was to find The Shadow Pirate's treasure to secure her own future and keep Ochana out of Ashton's and Carissa's direct control.

Rhaya dried her tears and went over to her bag to start unpacking some of her clothes and other items. She neatly folded the clothes and placed them in the chair in the corner of her room. Two spare pairs of boots were slid under the chair. Her robe and a hand-knitted cardigan from Darcy was draped over the back of the chair. Rhaya's favorite book was placed on top of the wooden crate serving as a makeshift nightstand next to her bed. One of the most important items she removed from the bag was the quilt from her bed at home, which was handmade by her mother.

The final item removed from the bag was the rolled-up piece of parchment she'd taken from her father's desk. She sat on the bed with her legs crossed under her and carefully smoothed out the map, trying to decipher it. Rhaya was so engrossed in her efforts that she didn't hear the knock on her door or notice it being opened.

"Hello? Miss Payton? It's me, Captain--" his greeting broke off when he saw the map on her bed. "What is that?" he whispered.

Rhaya looked up in alarm at the sound of the captain's voice but quickly schooled her expression. "It-it's just some old piece of paper I found in my father's desk. He's shown it to me many times, usually when he was telling me stories. It's nothing," she shrugged, trying to keep her voice even.

Captain Dean walked closer to where she was sitting as she tried to hurriedly roll up the paper. "May I see it, please?" he held his hand out. By his tone of voice, it was more of a command than a request. At first, Rhaya hesitated, then remembered that she was likely on thin ice with the captain. She realized it would be in her best interest to cooperate, at least for now, and reluctantly handed over the paper. "This is a map," he stated, with his eyes fixed on Rhaya.

"Yes, Captain, I'm aware of what it is," she replied wearily. "My father used to tell me bedtime stories of adventure on the high seas, with pirates and buried treasure. He would take out this map and use it to illustrate the story as he told it. As such, it holds a great deal of sentimental value to me, now may I have it back, please?" Rhaya asked, this time her hand was held out in expectation.

"This map is much more than a-a-a-prop for your bedtime stories, this is the real thing!" Dean exclaimed, his eyes dancing with excitement. "My father spent twenty years of his life on a crusade to find The Shadow Pirate's treasure. He died before he could complete his quest, so it fell to me, the oldest son to finish it. Now that I have this, I can fulfill my promise to him," Dean started to roll up the parchment and had turned to leave with it when Rhaya called out to the captain.

"Wait! Please! That map may be the fulfillment of a promise to your father, but it's what my fiancé is willing to kill me for!" she blurted out. "It's the only leverage I have against Ashton and his plans to get rid of me," she explained. "Captain, I know we didn't start off on the right foot, but there must be some way we can resolve this between us," she implored.

Dean stood in the doorway, with the map in one hand and his other pinching the bridge of his nose. He began to consider that Rhaya was telling the truth after all, that her fiancé really did want to kill her for the treasure of The Shadow Pirate. From the stories he'd heard about Lord Ashton Kane, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he would be capable of such an act.

"All right, here's the deal. We are headed towards our home port of Alcaria to drop off some supplies and to give the men time to see their families. Should take no more than a week or so to get there," Captain Dean explained.

"Okay, and then what?" Rhaya prompted.

"Well, this map is too important to both of us to be left laying around for anyone to find. For this reason, I will keep the map locked in my safe until we leave Alcaria. After that, we'll pick up the trail again for the treasure, using the map," Dean replied.

Rhaya jumped up from her bed and stood with her hands on her hips. "But-but it's my map! You wouldn't have anything if it wasn't for me! How exactly is it fair that you get to keep it in your room, in your safe??" she retorted.

Captain Dean strode over to Rhaya's position and stood nearly toe-to-toe with her. "Perhaps I should remind you that you are, as of this moment, a guest on board my ship. One I didn't intend to have. Anyone else caught stowing away would have at least been thrown in the brig. Or, taken to the nearest uninhabited area and left to fend for himself. I suggest you accept this deal and trust that I won't make any other 'alterations' to it," he declared.

Rhaya glared at the captain, trying to contain her anger while her eyes blazed with fury. The worst part was, he had a point about how she'd been treated thus far while onboard. He hadn't thrown her in the brig, made her walk the plank, or left her on a deserted island. All of those were options available to him as captain. She finally broke eye contact, finding the woodgrain in the floorboards extremely interesting. "Fine. Please keep the map locked in your safe in your room. Captain. With one request," she added.

Dean crossed his arms over his broad, muscular chest. "What is it?" he demanded.

"That we go after the treasure together, and whatever we find is split 50-50," Rhaya requested, at which Captain Dean scoffed. "We need each other and have our own reasons, our own motivations for pursuing this. If the legends of the treasure are true, then 50% will be more than enough to secure my future. One where I don't have to marry Ashton or anyone else unless it's my choice," she affirmed.

Dean still had his doubts that Rhaya had what it would take to follow the map to its ultimate payoff. However, after the skill she showed with her dagger and his hat, he thought that maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt. "All right, you have a deal. A 50-50 split of whatever is at the end of that rainbow," he agreed.

Rhaya stuck her hand out for him to shake, spitting in it first. "I accept, Captain Dean."

Surprised, Dean spit in his own hand before shaking Rhaya's to seal the deal. Her face broke out into a brilliant smile at the turn of events. That smile could light up even the darkest of nights. Whoa, where did that come from? he thought. He cleared his throat and turned to leave again. "Well, guess I'll leave you to it," he muttered.

"Wait!" she called out. There was that damned word again, Dean muttered to himself. "Bobby said something about introducing me to the rest of the crew. Can I go up on deck with you so I can meet everyone?" Rhaya asked.

Dean hesitated, then nodded and stepped aside to allow Rhaya to precede him in walking from her room. "After you, princ--er, Miss Payton," he mumbled.

As she passed him, she caught his gaze and flashed him a smile. "Please call me Rhaya," she requested, to which he gave a swift nod.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After breakfast with the Lord Darius and Lady Carissa, Darcy returned to her room. She had heard bits and pieces of Damon Sharpe's communiqué with Lord Ashton's so-called "specialist". When she heard the name "Lucifer Morningstar", Darcy knew she had to send her own message to someone who could help Rhaya.

Fortunately, salvation came in the form of Rhaya's best friend, Keira, whose ship had just entered Ochana's harbor that morning. Keira was the current captain of The Aurora, with her all-female crew dubbed "The Sea Angels". Darcy couldn't think of a reason for The Aurora to be in port, unless Keira had somehow come back for Rhaya due to her engagement to Lord Ashton.

Keira and Rhaya had grown up together, with Keira allowed to attend the private tutoring sessions Lord Darius arranged for his daughter. After lessons, the two were sparring partners, practicing their hand-to-hand combat skills. Twice a week, the captain of the governor's guard, Connor, instructed Keira and Rhaya in the art of the blade.

Around six years ago, Keira left Ochana to travel and live a life full of adventure on the high seas. She landed on The Aurora by chance, working her way up the ranks. She eventually became its captain, inheriting the ship from the previous captain, Sydney "The Sparrow" Kelly.

A year after Keira left Ochana, she returned with The Aurora and her crew. She sneaked into the governor's mansion, then hid in Rhaya's room to wait and talk with her. When Rhaya walked in, Keira came out of hiding and the two friends embraced. Keira tried to convince her best friend to leave Ochana with her on the ship and travel the world. They would have real adventures, not just the ones Rhaya's father told them about in bedtime stories.

There was a part of Rhaya that desperately wanted to take Keira up on her offer, to experience life outside of Ochana. But Rhaya couldn't follow Keira and leave her father behind, especially when she didn't trust her new stepmother, Carissa. Too soon, it was time for Keira to get back to her ship. Before she left, Keira vowed that she would return to Ochana one day, and this time, she wouldn't leave without Rhaya.

Darcy was standing outside of Rhaya's room that night and was aware of Keira's visit and her promise. She knew that the bond between Rhaya and Keira went beyond friendship, and stretched into sisterhood. If Rhaya was in trouble, Darcy was certain that Keira would drop everything to be at Rhaya's side, as Rhaya would for Keira. If anyone can help Rhaya, Darcy thought confidently, it's Keira.

A hand clapped Darcy's shoulder from behind, while another covered her mouth to muffle any scream. "Ssh, it's only me," a voice whispered. Darcy visibly relaxed and when she turned, she was face-to-face with her solution, pulling her into a tight embrace. "So, what's my sister gone and done now?" Keira grinned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhaya followed Captain Dean's directions, navigating the sometimes narrow passageways of the ship. Eventually they reached the daylight of the main deck, where Rhaya got her first real look at the activity occurring on the ship. The crew appeared to be engaging in leisure activities, with a few men in the corner playing cards. One or two of them were playing an instrument, while others were having a smoke and carrying on in a debate.

Over in another corner was a young man, whom Rhaya supposed was likely the youngest crew member. He had light brown hair, blue eyes and a slight gap between his top two front teeth. Under the toe of his left boot was a piece of paper laying on the deck, while his hands were looping and twisting around a thick stretch of rope.

Rhaya carefully approached the young man, not wanting to startle him. "Excuse me," she remarked softly. His head snapped up to see Rhaya's warm, coffee-colored eyes. "My name is Rhaya Payton. Is this seat taken?" she asked, pointing to the space next to him.

"Um, no, Miss, you can sit here. My name i-is Jack Kline," he stammered.

"It's nice to meet you, Jack," Rhaya beamed and stuck out her hand, which Jack shook in return. "May I ask what you're working on?"

"Oh, um, I'm learning how to tie knots. You know, so I can earn my keep here, do my part to help out. Gotta be ready at a moment's notice to secure the ship to the dock," Jack explained. "Only, I'm having trouble with this one kind of knot," he remarked, holding up the piece of paper. At that moment, a breath of wind caught the paper and whisked it out of his hand before Jack could catch it.

Seeing Jack hang his head in defeat nearly broke Rhaya's heart to witness. "Jack? I may be able to help you, if you can tell me which knot it was," she offered. He turned a skeptical eye towards Rhaya, who chuckled at his expression. "I know, I know, what does a girl know about tying knots, right?" she inquired and playfully rolled her eyes.

Jack nodded sheepishly. "Can you really help me?" he wondered.

"I'll let you in on a little secret Jack. My father was very open-minded about my education, and as such, he gave me free rein to learn anything anyone was willing to teach me. Therefore, I have quite a bit of knowledge of, shall we say, less than 'ladylike' subjects, including knots. Lend me your rope, please," she requested, holding out her hand.

Jack did as Rhaya asked, then told her what knot he was trying to master. She went through the motions and even showed Jack a couple of shortcuts, while still reaching the correct result. Then Rhaya unraveled the knot and watched as Jack attempted to follow her instructions. After a couple of wrong moves, he eventually caught on and was successful.

Little did she know that while she was explaining her methods, Captain Dean, Sam, and Gabriel were watching their interaction. Each man had different thoughts on the matter, with Sam appreciating Rhaya's patience and Captain Dean surprised yet again at her knowledge.

Gabriel, of course, had other thoughts of a somewhat less than honorable nature. He was pleased to hear that Rhaya would be staying on board for the time being. For this reason, Gabriel decided to interrupt the knot-tying lesson with Jack and crept over to where they were sitting.

Rhaya was in the middle of teaching Jack another knot when she felt a hand on her back, in the middle of her shoulder blades. She pivoted to her right, and swung her right arm out, sweeping someone's legs out from under him and dropping him to the deck. Rhaya quickly subdued her assailant by pressing down with her left knee into his torso and holding his left arm down. She withdrew her dagger from its holster and held the tip of the blade to the man's neck.

Sam's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his mouth dropped open as he witnessed Gabriel being taken down. "Did you see that?" he whispered then elbowed his brother. "Oh my God, he didn't even see that coming!" Sam continued laughing, not noticing that Dean was no longer paying attention to him.

Meanwhile, Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Rhaya quickly and accurately assessed the situation, and her reaction was perfect. It amazed Dean how fluid her movements were in not only subduing her opponent but drawing her weapon. Each moment spent observing the governor's daughter added a layer of complexity to be appreciated by the captain. Dean smiled to himself before walking over to Rhaya to introduce her to the crew.

Gabriel held his hands up in surrender and flashed Rhaya what he thought was a winning smile. "Well, hello there, sweet cheeks," he chuckled. "Now that you've got me at your mercy, what're you gonna do with me?" he smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

Rhaya rolled her eyes at his suggestive tone and stood up to let Gabriel out of her hold. "Get over yourself, Gabriel. You're not as charming as you'd like to think you are," she muttered. Rhaya twirled her dagger in her hand before returning it to her thigh holster.

Dean fought back a smile as he heard Rhaya's zinging retort to Gabriel, surely designed to knock him down a peg or two. "All right, everyone, listen up. We have a visitor on board, who will be accompanying us on our journey home to Alcaria. Her name is Miss Rhaya Payton, daughter of Governor Darius Payton of Ochana," he announced. "She is to be treated with the utmost respect at all times. Any man daring to do otherwise will answer to me."

Rhaya's gaze shifted from man to man, smiling and nodding as each of them tipped his hat when Captain Dean stated his name. Sam was First Mate, or Quartermaster, second-in-command to the captain. Dr. Novak, or "Jimmy", was the physician on board, followed by Garth, who was in charge of the galley, while Benjamin, or "Benny" was the Master Gunner. Balthazar and Gabriel were the Boatswains, in charge of docking, anchoring and naval provisions.

Bobby was the most experienced member of the crew, having served under the ship’s first captain, John Winchester, while Jack was the least experienced. However, Rhaya could sense Jack's thirst for knowledge and of wanting to prove himself to his superior officers. She made Jack a silent promise to help him whenever and with whatever she could.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Thank you so much for coming, Keira, I'm so glad you're here. Last night, Lady Carissa announced Rhaya's engagement to Lord Ashton Kane. As you can imagine, Rhaya was less than pleased with the turn of events. When I went to wake her up this morning, she was already gone," Darcy explained.

At the mention of Lord Ashton Kane's name, Keira rolled her eyes in disgust. "Figures Carissa would do something like that. Anything to get Rhaya out of her way and exert her influence over Lord Darius," she muttered. "Do we have any idea where my sister is?" Keira asked.

Darcy shook her head. "I know of at least three ships in port that night. Lord Ashton's ship, The Dark Soul, which I'm sure we can guarantee she's not on that one," she chuckled, with Keira joining in. "The Moon Raider belongs to Lord Crowley, and then The Black Diamond, which belongs to Captain Dean Winchester," Darcy mentioned.

"Hmm. I know where the home port is for The Black Diamond, so I'll start there. If we leave now, we might even be able to intercept them and rescue Rhaya before they reach port," Keira affirmed. "You did the right thing by contacting me, Darcy. Please tell Lord Darius not to worry, we'll get Rhaya back for him, safe and sound," she promised. Darcy and Keira embraced one last time before going their separate ways, with one woman going to her ship and the other returning to the governor's mansion.

Unbeknownst to the two friends, one of The Savage Demons from Lucifer's crew had wandered outside the pub for some fresh air. Arthur Ketch, a deck hand for The Red Dragon, heard female voices around the corner, speculating on Rhaya's whereabouts. He was surprised to recognize Keira from his previous dealings with The Aurora. The other woman had to have close ties to Rhaya, perhaps as a member of the governor's staff, or possibly as her lady-in-waiting.

Ketch heard Darcy mention The Moon Raider and The Black Diamond, and how there was no way Rhaya was on The Dark Soul, Lord Ashton's ship. It was clear that Keira felt the best course of action was to follow Captain Winchester's trail. Ketch knew he had to report this information back to his captain. He waited until the two women embraced and parted ways before returning to pay his tab in the tavern.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a hearty meal and an evening of entertainment with music and dancing, Rhaya should have had no trouble falling asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, unable to quiet her mind enough for it to allow her to slip into a restful state. If she were back in her room at the mansion, Rhaya's solution would have been to sneak downstairs to the library for something to read. Except that the books she brought with her were ones she'd read so many times that she could almost recite them word for word.

Rhaya picked up her robe from where it was draped across the back of the chair, and wrapped around her, tying the sash in front. In her bare feet, she carefully felt her way along the walls until she finally found the door that led to the main deck of the ship. She silently closed it behind her, then padded over to the rail to look out over the water.

The clear sky allowed for an unobstructed view of the full moon, which was surrounded by an endless array of twinkling stars. Back home, Rhaya was fascinated by the various constellations and the legendary stories behind them. Ever the seeker of knowledge, she devoured volumes on mythology and astronomy to help her identify the celestial configurations in the sky.

***

Dean held his pipe in his left hand while holding a match in his right hand to try and ignite the tobacco. He was about to strike the match on the bottom of his boot when he heard what sounded like singing. However, he shouldn't be hearing music, because everyone was supposed to be asleep. Then he saw her.

She stood at the rail, her head tilted back towards the heavens. Her strawberry blond hair cascaded down her back and seemed to take on a rosy glow in the moonlight. Eyes closed, she rocked from side to side on her feet, as if she was dancing with someone. She continued to hum to herself, while a soft smile graced her face. She was positively ethereal.

"Beautiful," Dean rasped out. He winced as he didn't mean to speak his thought out loud.

At the sound of Captain Dean's voice, the spell was broken, and Rhaya gasped sharply, her eyes flying open. "What?" she whispered as she turned around to face him. The whole time she was trying to calm her racing heart, which was doing its best to escape its cage.

Dean waved his hand skyward. "The stars, I mean. They're beautiful, aren't they? In all my years as a captain, I never get tired of this view," he remarked.

"Yes, they’re breathtaking,” she acknowledged. “I've always loved stargazing. Only, I'd have to get pretty far away from the manor and past the woods to see anything like this. I'm sure you can imagine how often that happens," Rhaya chuckled.

"What brings you up here now?" Captain Dean asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought with all the after-dinner entertainment that I'd fall right away, but no such luck. My brain has been running a mile a minute and won't slow down enough to let me get some rest," she replied. "That's why I thought coming up here would calm me down."

Dean hummed in agreement and moved to join Rhaya at the rail, his pipe forgotten for the moment. As captain, he was no stranger to difficulties with falling or even staying asleep. He regarded the young lady before him, who appeared so demure and vulnerable in the moonlight. A complete contrast to the woman who mere hours before had decisively taken down a member of his crew.

To Rhaya, his silence indicated that he'd rather be alone with his thoughts, and therefore chose to make a discreet exit. "Well, I should leave you to relax and enjoy your pipe. I'll return to my quarters and try again to get some sleep. Goodnight, Captain," Rhaya murmured. She pulled her robe more tightly around herself as she passed by where Dean was standing.

"W-Wait, Miss Payton!" Captain Dean called.

"Yes, Captain?" she responded, then turned to face him. An innocent blush appeared on her cheeks, almost as if she suddenly remembered she was only wearing a nightgown under her robe in his presence.

"Do you....um....do you know the legend behind any of the constellations up there?" Dean asked.

Rhaya smiled. Perhaps her earlier assessment was incorrect and instead, Dean wouldn't mind if she stayed to discuss astronomy with him. "It's one of my favorite subjects, Captain. What would you like to talk about?"

Dean returned her smile. "Well, for instance, as a captain, the most important constellation is Ursa Minor, or the Little Dipper," he began. "That's because it contains Polaris, or the North Star, which aids in navigation. If you can find that, you can find your way home," he stated.

Although she knew that, Rhaya was enjoying her conversation with Captain Dean. His reluctance to let her leave his side indicated a lowering of his guard just enough to show her a bit of the man behind the captain's rank. "That’s good to know. What else can you tell me?" she prompted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ketch returned to The Red Dragon and closed out his tab at the pub. Most of the crew were otherwise engaged in drinking, wenching or a combination of the two. As soon as he was back on board, he searched the ship to find the captain and speak with him. It was imperative to share what he'd heard about Rhaya's whereabouts before her distance from Ochana grew too great.

His search for Lucifer began in the captain's quarters. Ketch knocked on the door and opened it when granted entrance. "Excuse me, captain, but I may have information regarding the whereabouts of Lord Ashton's wayward fiancée," Ketch remarked, then waited for Lucifer's response.

Lucifer had been examining a collection of charts and maps, trying to pinpoint Rhaya's location with the information at hand. Tracking down a runaway bride-to-be was not exactly part of his list of services. If a groom couldn't hold onto his woman, that was his problem. But in this case, there was a reward of 50,000 gold pieces at stake. And that was something Lucifer could not easily afford to dismiss. "Well? What did you find out?"

Ketch explained how he'd overheard Darcy and Keira talking about Rhaya's disappearance, and where they thought she might be. "Captain Keira indicated that she would set sail for Alcaria, home port of The Black Diamond," he replied.

Lucifer abandoned the charts on his table and leaned back in his chair. "The Black Diamond, hmm?" he pondered. "And her captain is none other than Dean Winchester. He and I go way back, to the time of his father, John Winchester. John and I didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on things, hence why I left his employment. Now that I've got my own ship, my own crew, as captain, I get to do things my way," he affirmed.

"Shall I go back to town and fetch the rest of the crew, captain?" Ketch asked.

"Unless you want to be solely responsible for all duties on this ship, I suggest you get the crew back to the ship. I want to shove off for Alcaria within the hour," Lucifer retorted. "Anyone not onboard by then will be left behind."

Ketch clicked the heels of his boots together, bowed to his captain and took his leave. Lucifer's thoughts settled on what it will be like to see The Black Diamond and her crew again. Last he knew, Dean was named captain after John passed away, while brother Sam was his second-in-command.

There certainly wasn't any love lost between Lucifer and the Winchesters, or even Bobby Singer and the rest of the crew, for that matter. However, this was no time to dwell on the past or to settle old scores. This was strictly a business matter--find Rhaya and return her to Lord Ashton. After that, collect the reward money, and be back out to sea. I will not allow Captain Dean Winchester or anyone else to get in my way, he vowed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

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[wondersofdreaming]

Lost Boys - TEN

Characters: August Walker / Captain Syverson / Walter Marshall

Word count: 2.605

Warnings: Guns. Lost brothers. Blood. Death. Shooting. The aftermath of the explosion.

Author’s note: The end. I know it's crap but thanks for reading anyways.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​!

Everything in this story is a figment of my imagination, with inspiration and snippets from the movies ‘Mission: Impossible - Fallout’, ‘Sand Castle’, ‘Nomis/Night Hunter’. This is pure fanfiction. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to.

I do now own any of the characters from the movies that I write about in this story. Only the OFC’s are mine.

Feedback is appreciated.

MASTERLIST

[ONE] [TWO] [THREE] [FOUR] [FIVE] [SIX] [SEVEN] [EIGHT] [NINE]

Walter had a grim look on his face. He could see that Melanie was starting to panic. Her face contorted into a look of worry, also her eyes were searching for the big body of her brother underneath all the rubble.

“We’ll find him,” Walter assured her, “Are you hurt?”

Walter helped her sit up on the pavement.

“I’m feeling a little woozy, and my back hurts from colliding with the car. Else I think I’m good,” Melanie answered. Walter made a mental note to keep an eye on her, as she could have a concussion or may be bleeding internally.

“Lucas!” Melanie walked into what used to be the front garden, calling for her brother.

A high pitched tone was ringing in his ears. The blast had knocked Lucas off his feet and onto the nearest solid thing, the neighbouring house. His broken arm was throbbing with pain, while a burn was slowly spreading across his chest. He had tried breaking ribs before, so he wasn’t doubting that he might have cracked a few from the blast.

Lucas opened his eyes and watched burning paper dissipating in the wind. The scorching heat from the fire warmed his face, as he lay there watching the orange and red hues. It was quite beautiful to look at, while it destroyed the childhood home of this triplet brother.

Brother. Sister. MELANIE!

He scrambled to his feet, hissing as the jolting pain thundered through his body. His head was spinning as if he had just gotten off a wild carousel ride. He was feeling nauseous as he tried to move.

“LUCAS!”

It was a distant sound, but he heard his sister’s voice through the loud ringing.

“Mel!” he tried yelling back, but the tone was low. His throat was sore and felt raw like someone had tried scratching the flesh from the inside.

In the distance, he heard a fire truck's siren, but he didn’t care about the fire, he needed to get to his sister. He jumped over the broken fence between the neighbouring houses. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to walk, it hurt to even think, but he had to make sure that Melanie was safe. The adrenaline was pumping in his veins, making him move faster.

“Mel,” he said hoarsely as he saw her crying into his triplet brother’s shirt. They both turned their heads towards him. Melanie released Walter and ran towards her injured brother. He was prepared for the impact, as his sister collided with his cracked ribs, but let out a gasp anyways as she hugged him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Melanie sobbed, “I wouldn’t even know how to tell mom if you had died. And what about dad? What about Josh? And your job?”

“Mel, stop talking. We’re okay,” Lucas shushed her. He hugged her close, even though it hurt, but he didn’t care.

The sirens grew louder, making the raging headache Walter was sporting even worse, but despite that, he moved towards the road and guided the fire truck and fire engine towards the burning building.

Soon the area was swarming with ambulances and police cars. The firefighters contained the towering flames, while medics were attending Lucas, Melanie, and even Walter, who had stubbornly told them that he was fine, was looking into a flashlight.

“Can you remember your name, sir?” the medic asked.

“Walter Matthew Marshall, detective at the Minneapolis PD,” he grumbled.

“Well, detective, you might have a concussion from your head hitting the pavement. You need observation for the next 24 hours.”

“I don’t have time…”

“Detective, it is not up for discussion.”

Walter was groaning the entire way to the hospital. He and Lucas were placed in the same room. Lucas’ injuries weren’t as bad as expected, with only a few broken ribs and a concussion. Melanie had escaped unharmed, except for a few bruises and a high tone ringing in her ears.

The brothers needed observation for the next 24 hours, and with a lot of stubbornness from all three, Melanie was allowed to stay in the room with them for the night.

The police arrived a few hours later to take their statement. If it wasn’t because the situation was quite serious and Walter rarely laughed, he would have been rolling on the floor after seeing the confused faces of the detectives, when they told them that Melanie was the sister of Lucas but not of Walter.

It didn’t take long before Melanie fell asleep on the pull-out bed the hospital had provided. Lucas watched as her chest rose and fell, feeling relieved that she was alive and breathing.

“How are you feeling?” Walter asked from the window. He was watching the people walking in and out of the hospital, as they had a clear view of the main entrance.

“I’m good, sore, and pissed,” Lucas answered, “What do you think happened?”

“My theory is someone planted that bomb to either set it off when we came back or to destroy any evidence that could be found in that house,” Walter mused.

Lucas nodded, having had the same thoughts.

“Do you think he had anything to do with this?” Walter asked after a silent moment, pulling Lucas out of his train of thoughts.

“I don’t know, brother. I have no clue what our brother is capable of. He is a wanted criminal all over the world.”

“Do you think he’s the mastermind behind this?”

“He could very much be, are you having second thoughts?”

Walter turned around and glared at Lucas, who stared back. Their equally blue eyes were sharp and alert.

“No. I just hope we can catch him, get him into a prison that can get the idea of world domination out of his head, and where I can keep an eye on him.”

August walked into his mother’s new house on the outskirts of the city. He had been transported in a cargo ship to get back into the states. His tech associate Marc had been furious at him for leaving the safe house in Thailand, but nothing could stop August, he always got what he wanted.

“Mother!” August’s voice echoed across the mostly empty house. He removed the hood of his jacket, revealing his identical face to Walter and Lucas, with the exception of the moustache.

“Auggie, my son,” he heard her soft voice coming from his left. She looked frail and thin as if she would crumble at any given moment.

“We had a clear agreement that my brothers were not to be harmed,” August growled. His patience was running low as he stared daggers at his adoptive mother.

“They were at the wrong place at the wrong time, my dear,” her voice was calm and as if she was talking to a toddler.

Since the death of her daughter, Amanda had toughened up and had started the hunt for revenge. First, her plan was to kill all of the abusive men in the world. Then her plan expanded as her organisation became bigger. August had stood by her side while she ordered people to be killed. She was merciless and cruel, not the astronomy-loving woman August had grown up with.

“You’re hiding something.”

“For the hundredth time, I am fine. Sign the damn release papers, you cannot hold me here against my will,” Lucas raised his voice at the young resident doctor standing before him. Lucas was a tall man, and from his time in the army had gotten quite muscular, which were straining against the moss-green T-shirt Melanie had helped him in.

“I must advise against it, Mr Syverson,” the resident said firmly, but still, he took a step back.

“It’s Captain Syverson.”

“Your release papers will be ready in 10 minutes, captain.”

The doctor left the room. Walter was standing by the windows, looking down at the people walking. One hooded figure caught his eye, but he blinked and the person was gone.

Two phones rang simultaneously, waking the trio who had all fallen asleep in their respective beds after they’d gotten back from the hospital. Lucas looked at his screen and was immediately wide awake.

“Aiden?” he grumbled.

“I heard about the explosion. How are you?”

“Got out of the hospital this morning. I had to take a nap. Me? Take a nap?”

Lucas heard his friend roar with laughter. He would have laughed at himself if he had the energy for it, but instead devoted said energy to concentrate on why Aiden was calling.

“I’ve found your missing brother,” Aiden’s voice was serious as he explained that August was back in the country. He had avoided getting in through flight but had been caught by a few security cameras at a harbour in Norfolk, two days earlier.

Lucas walked out of his room, needing to tell the others about the news. Walter stood by the windows, stoically listening to whoever was at the other end of his phone call. Melanie was in the kitchenette, pouring coffee into three mugs.

“Thanks, Charlie. Tell Faye that I’ll be home soon,” Walter ended the call. “That was Charlie. Raven got a hit on August’s whereabouts, he’s here.”

“Aiden told me the same thing.”

Walter frowned. His mind racing.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “I saw him earlier. He was at the hospital.”

“How do you know? You’ve never seen him before,” Melanie chimed in.

“Call in triplet-intuition or maybe it was the way he was standing. Still as a statue in the middle of a parking lot full of people walking by.”

“We have to go find him,” Lucas said. He fastened his gun to the holster in his belt and covered himself with a black zip-up hoodie.

Just as they’re about to head out, there was a knock on their door. Walter opened with caution, one hand on his gun behind his back.

It was one of the receptionists with a note that had been left for them. She handed Walter the black envelope, he thanked her and closed the door.

“Meet behind the library at midnight.”

“I can only be from August,” Lucas said. He paced around the room, wondering if it was a trap or not.

“Or maybe it’s a trap, you shouldn’t go,” Melanie told the two brothers.

“We have to. If we’re not back before 2 AM, call the police and say where we are.”

“No, I’m going too!”

“Over my dead body! If dad finds out, he’ll have my head. Mel, if this is a trap, someone needs to know where we are and can tell the police or FBI why it happened.”

Melanie sulked but agreed to stay back at the hotel.

Under the cover of a moonless night, the three siblings met for the first time. Lucas and Walter stood with their backs to the closed library, while they watched as their triplet brother walked down the pathway towards them.

August opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking on the pavement.

“You have always been such a soft boy, August.”

The three brothers saw Amanda Walker coming closer with a raised gun in her hands.

“And your two brothers are a big pain in my ass,” she continued. Before anyone could move, Amanda aimed for Walter, but August’s reflexes were faster and he jumped in front of his brothers.

Everything happened in slow motion. August turned around with a sad smile on his lips beneath the moustache. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his body landed on the cold hard ground. Lucas ran towards August, while Walter set off after Amanda.

August whispered something in Lucas’ ear before he took his last breath. Lucas closed the blue eyes of his brother as Walter came back.

“I lost her,” he grunted. He kicked the grovel around him, cursing at the world.

“It’s not your fault, Walt. Come, help me carry him home.”

A year later the two remaining brothers stood side by side looking at the tombstone with their brother’s name on it. Oliver Thompson.

“We found her, brother. It took some time and a lot of travelling, but we found her, and she’s going to be in jail for the rest of her life.”

“And we went to a hypnotist who unlocked our forgotten memories. No clue how she did it, but we remember the good times, the bad times, the sad times when mom and dad…”

“Let’s not become all too sappy, bro. Walter is getting married. She’s a nurse. Wish you could meet her, a feisty one, I think even she could whoop your ass.”

“Lucas has also found a woman. She is a veterinarian with a short fuse, but she makes the sweetest apple pie I’ve ever tasted.”

The brothers kept on babbling about what was happening in their lives, not noticing the hooded figure standing in a grove of trees, listening to everything.

August smiled at his brothers. His moustache had been shaved and he was growing out his curls. Somehow he looked like a beardless Walter, which he had chuckled over as he shaved.

“I’m sorry, brother. I wanted to burn down the world for being such a cruel place, but I know now that no matter how much I make it suffer, it won’t take the hurt away from my heart. Please, take me to the docks. Warehouse 16. Leave me there and don’t look back.”

Those were the words August had whispered to his army brother.

He had realised that he loved the peaceful life of living in a village in Thailand. In the few weeks, he had resided in the faraway hut, he had gathered food and helped the villagers with their farming, even though he didn’t want to help. But a particular black haired woman had insisted on him helping since he had such big muscles.

The world looked different from before with the woman’s help, he saw beauty wherever he went. But when Marc stood at his doorstep, telling him that his mother wanted to see him, he refused, so Marc did the only thing he thought would persuade the moustached man, he held his black-haired beauty at gunpoint.

August promised to go with Marc and made another promise to his new lady that he would be back, which he sealed with a kiss to her soft lips.

She had waited for him to come back, even demanded to know his secrets. If she were to be his wife, she needed to know about all his demons. So he told her. He had been astonished that she hadn’t run away screaming. Instead, she had smacked his cheek and told him that the world was a beautiful place in the eye of the beholder and that he needed glasses.

He couldn’t wait to go back home, to the woman who was waiting for him, who loved him for him, and he hoped he would be back in time to meet his child, the miracle he had created and would protect.

But he had needed closure to see that his brothers were well and happy as he was.

“... And Faye keeps saying that I have to shave off my beard and keep the moustache, so she can see what you looked like. I said no, of course, telling her that she can go harass Lucas instead.”

“She is such a sweet angel, with a devilish charm. I hope to one day have my own kid, who’ll wrap me around their tiny fingers and I’ll be putty in their hands.”

“Well, we hope you’re happy, brother, wherever you are.”

[rein-ette]

Hi!

I was inspired by your asks, so I wanted to hear from you! What do you think of Canada as a country? I had a bit of a Canadian phase long ago and I tried to consume as much literature and history as I could, but reading about a place and living in it are very different experiences, so is there anything you'd like to share about Canada, about the culture or the people? Do you like living there? What are some of your favorites things? How do you survive the winters?

And also, as a character, what do you think of Matt?

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

Aaaaaaaaah okay okay *ahem*

If you’re not here for a Ted talk the exit is to your left, have a great day!

I do love Canada very much! I was born and pretty much grew up here, and as I’ve grown older I’ve become more and more grateful for everything that my country has provided for me! I remember my history teacher in high school said once that by being born into the middle class and as a Canadian, you’ve already won the lottery of life. That was not to disparage other countries, but to remind us of how remarkably privileged we are and how much we take for granted.

One of the first things you hear when you ask people what does it mean to Canadian is the word “multicultural.” I find this word realllyyyyyy cringeyyyy and not really reflective of reality, but I suppose it’s a good starting point for more in depth discussion. People often say Canada is a “cultural melting pot”, but the indigenous poet Marilyn Dumont pointed out in her poems that in some ways it’s more of a mosaic — there are many cultures, but they don’t always meld together. To say it’s a melting pot is ignoring the fact that racism and discrimination certainly have and do still exist here.

But I would argue that in some areas it is a “melting pot”, even if I kinda hate that word. I prefer to think of where I live as cultural delta — a place where many mighty tributaries meet as they thunder into the sea. (It is also literally a delta, funnily enough) Here, I grew up absorbing Canadian ideas, studying British history, reading American literature, learning French — but I also grew up listening to Kpop, watching Ghibli, eating rice. When I meet up with friends, we don’t grab a coffee, we grab milk tea. If you ask people here where they would like to visit or live, they will most likely say New York, London, Hong Kong, or Seoul — which tells you a bit about both how powerful and diverse the cultural influences here are.

Perhaps the thing most indicative of Canada’s “multiculturalism” and what I am most grateful for, however, is that I grew up here without fear. I didn’t even know the words “chink” or other words existed until I could access the internet. Recently, the beatings of Asian immigrants in the UK and US brought this home for me — how lucky I am to have such a privileged childhood. And I know this kind of privilege is hard won; in my research of WW2 I found that one of the amusement parks that I used to frequent as a child was built on land that once housed a Japanese internment camp. How fragile our lives are!

But enough about the serious stuff. I can’t really answer your question about how to survive winters in Canada lol, except to say that where I am in Canada it is absolutely necessary everyone own at least 3-4 umbrellas. That’s because this side of the Rockies in BC, the temperatures are pretty mild year round — the coldest it gets is usually 0, and the hottest around 25. But, by god, it rains. I did go to Ottawa in the winter though, where it was -13 one day, but honestly? Everything below 0 feels pretty much the same. Once it gets that cold, you can’t even tell anymore. I wore a skirt and tights that day, with a good, thick winter coat. And I survived :D

Besides not being heckled on the street for being Asian, my favourite things about Canada are probably the amazing diversity of good food and how tremendously beautiful the wilderness here is. And I say this as someone who loses her mind when a mosquito flies past (ie. I am not a nature person). You can kinda tell from these photos here, but the trees and water and whatnot here, are like, real. Maybe I just find that amazing because I lived in Tianjin, but it just feels like this is a city built among the trees and the sky and water that was always here, and not a city where humans have brought in nature for our amusement.

Okay, gotta move on to your other questions or I’ll go on forever. As a state I think Canada does a fairly good job of providing for its own people, but I wish we had a greater global influence. A lot of youth especially express the view that Canada is kinda...boring if your career doesn’t have to do with, like, sports, nature, or medicine, and I would tend to agree. We have great universities, but as someone who studies international relations I often wish Canada would like? Do more? On the global scale. The only thing we really have under our name is the UN peacekeeping, which PM Pearson started after the Suez Canal Crisis. I mean, I’ve heard that many people abroad identify Canada with peace and like ofc I’m not complaining about that, but I just wish our history was a little spicier, ya know? We did kick Americas ass that one time in 1812 and that was amazing. No regrets.

So that brings me to Matt. A lot of Canada’s existence has just been dominated by trying to carve a way between the US and the British while not being swallowed by either. Britain gave us the protection and strength and diversification of identity to not be annexed by the US, but at the same time it hobbled Canada’s relation with our only neighbour. One of the very first treaties Canada negotiated alone, if I’m recalling correctly, was a trade contract with the US over fishing (?) in BC and Alaska, where London was like no you can’t and Canada was like uh we gotta make money too, bro. So yes, while I do believe Mattie is just a very loyal person in general, he was also loyal to the empire because he needed to survive. A lot of Canadian identity was solidified around our prompt assistance of England and the sacrifices made in the two world wars, especially the campaigns in the Low Countries and Italy. Essentially, Canada has historically differentiated itself from the US through its loyalty.

Uuuuh just realized that has nothing to do with my opinion of Matt. Um. I like him? He’s real best friend/big brother material, and I do hc him as far more cunning and capable than canon portrays him to be. However, sometimes he’s just...too nice. He doesn’t have that edge that England has that makes me wanna slap him tf up and sob and call him my baby at the same time. Also, as oumaheroes mentioned here, that kind of selflessness can get pretty toxic. After all, by consistently not voicing or examining your own needs, you make it incredibly and unnecessarily frustrating for the people who care about you to help you, and that creates a relationship just as one sided as one where the person is extremely selfish. Actually, now that I think about it, my biggest gripe with Mattie as a character and Canada as a country is in that word: selfless. Without self. Perhaps because Canada is still so young, but it feels a little lost, a little like it doesn’t know quite know yet why it exists.

TLDR: If you’re under 18 or over 60, Canada is the place to be. If, however, you’re like me and wish you could touch a building that’s over 150 years old and maybe visit a square somebody’s been guillotined in, perhaps try someplace else. Personally Portugal’s golden visa is lookin especially tempting lately

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter One

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

April. 12. 2020

Stress.

Everyone was feeling it these days. Pandemics will do that to people. Especially when the world that everyone knew and loved had crumbled into an entirely different, almost unrecognizable version of itself.

Restaurants were closed. All stores that were deemed non-essential were shuttered. The streets were empty.

It was an odd kind of bittersweet. It was heartbreaking to see all the bustling cities turn into ghost towns, but it was good because it meant that people were listening. People were caring about their vulnerable friends and neighbours, their elderly grandparents, the health care workers who fought tirelessly to save those who needed their help. 

It was a necessary evil, but nevertheless it was odd to see and the uncertainty of how the future would unfold was anxiety inducing.

At first, I wanted as much news as possible. Staying informed of everything happening in every affected country gave me some comfort. It was as if it somehow gave me more control, but I quickly realized that wasn't the case. It gave me no clearer indication of how or when things would end or when some kind of normality would return. It left me overwhelmed and drowning in hypothetical worse case scenarios when really the truth was that no one had any idea. Even the experts couldn't say what would happen next. It was all just guess work and while some of it was educated, most of the articles were not and it was turning me into a nervous wreck.

So I decided to disconnect. I decided to trust that I would be informed when the number of cases dropped and the lockdown was lifted and trust that the process would not be sped up by me consuming as many statistics and projections as I could find.

Turning off was hard though. I wasn't one of the lucky few who could simply do their job from home, I had nothing to fill my days. I had also chosen to isolate with my parents in the lovely house they'd bought a few years earlier on the beautiful island of Jersey. In some ways this was a lucky choice as the risk was far lower than in London where I was living, but it was quaint and the lack of hustle and bustle made me feel even more restless.

Which was how I found myself out exploring the trails. 

My mother had kicked me out of the house when she caught me doing one of my niece’s art projects for her out of boredom. My niece hadn't wanted to do it anyway, so I didn't see the harm, but my mother had reminded me that she was seven and didn't get to just opt out of schoolwork if she wasn't in the mood. She then cited some article she'd found about how the government were still encouraging people who were feeling cooped up to go outside to exercise once a day and tossed me my shoes and bag before pushing me to the door.

I'd wandered sulkily at first, frustrated that at thirty I was in a situation that had my mother tossing me outside the way she did when we were kids and our endless energy was getting on her nerves. But I soon realized she was right. It was a beautiful island and I should appreciate the opportunity to explore it. So I found a map, picked a destination and then hiked for almost an hour until I'd reached the viewing point I was looking for.

I had to admit it was a beautiful view as I looked out over the ocean, sitting on the little bench I'd found, but the peace it brought was short-lived. I started wondering if I really should have sat down at all considering I had no idea who had been there before me. My legs were tired so I had figured it was worth the risk as long as I didn't touch anything, but was it really?

Sighing into the mask that covered my face, it struck me again how strange the world currently was. Two months ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about sitting on a public bench or worried what would happen if another group joined me in the little clearing I'd found, but now every stranger was a potential threat.

I quickly grew frustrated with my negative thoughts. The walk was supposed to get me out of my head and I was annoyed that I couldn't shake it, couldn't think of anything else except the stupid pandemic for even just a few minutes. The mask on my face suddenly felt suffocating and I just wanted to get home so I could rip it off.

Rising from the bench, I checked the time on my phone before tossing it back into my bag with a sigh and heading off down the trails. I was in a world of my own as I walked. Day dreams about how things would be now if none of this had ever happened filled my head and then, when the inescapable reality broke through my thoughts, I pondered what kind of new cocktail I could try when I got home to ease the pang of loss that seemed to constantly fill my stomach.

I was in the midst of drooling over a prosecco and elder flower concoction that I'd recently read a recipe for when suddenly it felt like I was hit by a truck.

I landed on the ground, flat on my back, fighting to breathe as the wind was knocked right out of me. My chest was tight and my vision was blurry as I felt a familiar panic rising in my chest. Did I bring my inhaler? Where was my bag? What had even happened?

As the thoughts raced through my mind, I could vaguely hear the sound of someone next to me.

"Are you alright?" They asked, their tone conveying a similar panic to the one I was feeling. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

I nodded as the spasm in my chest subsided, but my weak lungs seemed to struggle to recover from the shock. I coughed into my mask as I forced myself to sit up, looking frantically for my bag and spotted it a few feet off to the side. My breath was coming out in short wheezes as I struggled to move closer to it, but the man was much faster. He thrust it into my arms, watching me like a worried puppy as I quickly dug through it.

Relief flooded through me as my hand wrapped around my inhaler and I quickly pulled down my mask as I pressed it against my lips. It took a few moments, but I felt myself calm down as the tightness began to subside and my body relaxed. It wasn't until I'd taken a few deep breaths that the man spoke again.

"Are you alright?" He repeated, clearly realizing I was in a much better position to actually give a response. "I'm so sorry."

I nodded as I finally took a good look at who I was talking to and suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe again for an entirely different reason. He had a baseball hat pulled low on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity, but it didn't work as I realized I was face to face with Superman himself, Henry Cavill.

"Y-yeah, I'm, uh, I'm fine, thanks," I sputtered out. "What happened?"

Henry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he squatted next to where I was sitting on the dusty trail.

"I was running and I crashed into you," He admitted. "I wasn't paying attention and didn't see you around the corner."

"Oh," I nodded, still trying to come to terms with the situation. "I wasn't paying attention either to be fair. It's not your fault."

He pulled a face that made it clear that he didn't necessarily agree with that statement, but he didn't argue.

"Are you really alright?" He asked again, guilt written all over his face. "You fell really hard and then you weren't breathing. I thought I'd killed you."

I snorted a laugh, quickly covering my face as it turned into a cough.

"I'm okay," I insisted, my voice raspy. "And for the record I don't have that stupid virus either. I have asthma. I think I got winded when I fell and it triggered an attack."

"Shit," Henry rubbed his face nervously. "So I almost did kill you."

"Nah," I smiled, appreciating how genuinely bad he felt about the situation. "You can't be blamed for my broken lungs."

He chuckled and flashed me a smile before standing and holding out a hand for me. I took it happily, but once he'd pulled me to my feet another issue became apparent. As soon as I put weight on my left foot, I crumbled into Henry's arms, gasping in pain.

"Whoa, I got you," He soothed as he caught me. "What hurts?"

"My ankle," I groaned, shifting all my weight to my right foot and off of him.

Henry's brow furrowed in thought before his eyes widened like a little light bulb had gone off in his brain.

"There's a park nearby," He informed me. "Can I take you there and look it?"

I raised an eyebrow as I hopped slightly to keep my balance.

"I don't remember the Superman movie where Clark Kent went to medical school."

There was a brief flash of surprise on his face when he realized I knew who he was, but it disappeared almost instantly as he chuckled and shot me a smirk.

"I can't say that he did," He confirmed. "But as someone who had to stay in pretty decent shape for that role, I'm more familiar than I care to admit with sports injuries."

"I don't think being bowled over by a man with muscles bigger than my head counts as a sport," I matched his smirk. "But I would appreciate your opinion if you don't mind looking at it. It hurts quite badly and I'm clueless with this stuff."

"Of course," Henry nodded. "Ready?"

Before I could even answer, Henry had one arm tucked under the back of my knees and was holding me bridal style in his arms. I gasped quietly at suddenly being lifted off the ground, but my surprise quickly turned into awe at the ease with which he had picked me up and how he was now walking quickly down the trail as if I weighed nothing at all. It had been far too long since I'd been in a position this intimate with a man and my mouth suddenly felt dry as his biceps flexed under my back and I couldn't help, but imagine what they would look like if we were in other intimate positions.

Stopping those thoughts as fast as they appeared, I pulled my mask up to hide my reddening cheeks.

"We are definitely not six feet apart..."

My mumbled words were muffled even more by the mask covering my mouth, but the shake of Henry's shoulders as he chuckled and the wink that he shot me made it obvious that he'd heard me loud and clear.

****

"Alright, well, it's pretty swollen, but I don't think it's broken," Henry informed me as he sat on the bench of the picnic table he'd placed me on. He'd spent a few minutes wiggling my foot around, watching my response before announcing his opinion. "I think it's probably just twisted or sprained."

"There goes my dancing career." I sighed dramatically in an attempt to make it clear I was joking, but the slight drop of Henry's jaw and the guilt that riddled his face meant I'd missed the mark. "Kidding! I'm kidding. My lack of coordination killed that dream when I was a child. I'm a baker. Or rather, I was a baker."

Henry quirked an eyebrow at my change of phrasing.

"Decided on a career change?"

I looked down, wishing I hadn't brought it up in the first place. I was starting to accept the way things were, but it wasn't something I was eager to discuss just yet.

"I didn't get a chance to decide really," I started to explain, my voice suddenly coming out much meeker than it had before. "The pandemic kinda made the choice for me."

"Oh," Henry frowned. "Well, it can't go on forever. I'm sure they'll start letting places reopen by the summer."

"Not my place," I smiled half-heartedly in an attempt to hide some of the self-pity I was wallowing in. "I put all my eggs in one basket...A basket which the pandemic then threw off a cliff."

Henry chuckled at my explanation, but there was sympathy on his face.

"Is there no chance you could pick up where you left off?"

I sighed, but shook my head.

"I opened my own bakery in January," I admitted. "I barely had it up and running when the pandemic hit and with my asthma, I'm pretty vulnerable so I closed up shop as soon as things started heading south. I sunk all my savings into it though so I don't have enough to keep it a float. I was past the point of no return after only a few weeks of being shut."

Henry was quiet for a moment and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I realized that I'd massively overshared my problems with a stranger who was simply trying to make polite conversation. I opened my mouth to spout out some apologies when Henry cut me off.

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

His eyes met mine as he spoke and even though it was a simple sentence, it put me at ease. His eyes were warm and comforting and it was clear there was sincerity to his words. Not wanting to burden him too much though, I simply shrugged.

"It could be worse," I pointed out. "I'm healthy, my family are all healthy. People have lost a lot more to this virus than I have."

"Just because people have lost more, it doesn't make you loss insignificant."

I had heard his words before and I appreciated the sentiment, but it still felt hard to grieve for a lost business when an incomprehensible number of people were grieving for lost loved ones. 

"You sound like my therapist," I teased, feeling a strange warmth in my stomach when a smile slid onto his face. He really was very handsome. It was no wonder why women and men all around the world would kill to get this close to him. "Anyway, I should probably call my dad and see if he can pick me up. I don't think I'll be able to walk home."

Henry nodded and passed me my bag from where it was placed on the ground. He waited patiently as I made the call, arranging for my dad to meet me on the road I could see running past the park just up a small hill. Once it was all set up, I turned back to Henry.

"Thanks so much for all your help," I smiled. "I think I'll be okay for now though, you don't need to waste any more of your day."

"It's not a waste," Henry argued. "Besides, I still maintain this whole mess was my fault so it's the least I can do to help you up that hill when your dad arrives."

"You really don't need to," I insisted. "I can hop or crawl or something."

A laugh slipped from Henry's mouth as he shook his head.

"As entertaining as I'm sure that would be to watch, it wouldn't be very decent of me to let you struggle like that," He held firm, clearly not one to back down easily. "How about as a trade off for my assistance, you can give me your number?"

I snorted a laugh as I looked at him in disbelief.

"You want my number? Is that a joke?"

"No!" He grinned from ear to ear as he fished his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. "It's the least you can do after I gave you my expert medical advice."

"Wow, Mr. Cavill. Very smooth," I smiled, my cheeks heating up as I rattled off my number. He entered it in carefully before looking up at me again.

"Now, I just need a name to go with it."

"Oh! How rude of me." My blushed deepened when I realized I hadn't even introduced myself. "I'm Brooke."

"Brooke," Henry repeated as he typed it into his phone. "It's nice to meet you, Brooke."

"You too," I agreed before deciding it was time to to turn the attention back to him. "So, what brings international superstar, Henry Cavil, to the little island of Jersey?"

"It's my home," He informed me, a fond smile on his face. "I grew up here so when production got shut down due to the pandemic, I decided to come here to isolate with my family."

"What an amazing place to grow up," I said, my words dripping with envy. "You must have had the run of the island!"

"We did," Henry nodded with a chuckle. "I have four brothers so my mother always knew we'd keep each other safe and let us do what we pleased for the most part."

"Four brothers?" My jaw dropped slightly at the thought. "I have one sister and that was more than enough siblings for me."

"It was a lot," Henry agreed. "But it was nice. I love having a big family and we all went to boarding school so there wasn't five of us in the house together all the time."

"That makes it easier," I nodded. "Are you close?"

"Absolutely! I'm closest with my younger brother because we're only two years apart, but we're all quite good friends. We try to get everyone together at least once a year if our schedules permit it."

He grinned as he spoke and it was clear that he loved his family very much. I couldn't help, but return his smile.

"That's really nice."

"Are you close with your sister?"

"I am," I nodded. "It's part of the reason I'm here, I guess. My parents moved here a few years back and she decided to bring my niece here to isolate so they could help look after her. My brother-in-law is a paramedic so he knew things were getting bad long before the lockdown started and he felt it would be safer for her not to be in the house with him in case he gets exposed. My sister is working from home though so home-schooling Molly by herself while trying to do her own work would be tough. Since Jersey is obviously safer for me too with my asthma, I decided to tag along when they came over from London way back at the beginning of March so I can help my sister with Molly too."

I felt like I was rambling and oversharing again, but Henry's eyes were on me the entire time and he never once seemed disinterested. It was refreshing to meet someone who was actually interested in having a proper conversation.

"That sounds like a very sensible choice," He nodded when I was finished my explanation. "It must be hard for your niece to be separated from her dad so I'm sure she appreciates having you around. A couple of my brothers are in the military and I know when they've been deployed, the kids really struggle."

"She's doing better than I expected, but there's days when we can tell she's having a hard time," I admitted. "Are you just isolating with your parents?"

"No, no, we're doing a similar thing to you," Henry smiled. "One of my brothers was over visiting at the beginning of March during a school break so when there was talk of schools closing, they decided to just stay over here. So it's my parents and I, plus my brother, his wife and their three kids. Oh, and my big fluffy dog."

My whole face lit up at the mention of a dog before I could even control myself.

"You have a dog?!" I practically squealed, making Henry's shoulder shake as he chuckled. "Do you have pictures?"

"Of course!"

Henry picked up his phone from where he'd placed it on the table and quickly opened his camera roll. From where I was sitting, perched on the table above him, I could see dozens of pictures pop up on the screen, most of them of a big fluffy, black and white dog. He scrolled for a moment before tapping on one and turning the phone towards me.

"Awwwe," I cooed, looking at the big goofy grin on the dog's face. "What's his name?"

"Kal."

I stared at him for a moment, confusion written all over my face.

"You named your dog Cow?"

Henry tossed his head back laughing, shaking it slowly.

"No, not cow! Kal!" He emphasized the 'L' as he clarified. "As in Kal-El."

"Ooh, I get it," I giggled, realizing my mistake. "Wow, you're a nerd."

"I am," Henry chuckled, not fazed by my jab. "If you think naming my dog after Superman is bad, wait until you hear how I've been spending all this free time."

I wrinkled my nose in mock disgust.

"Let me guess...some video game like...World of Warcraft?"

Laughter once again erupted from Henry, making me laugh at the sight.

"No, surprisingly not," He shook his head. "Even though I did almost miss the call for Superman because I actually was playing World of Warcraft..."

"Oh my god, really?" I raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe someone who looked like him was into something that many people consider so uncool. He nodded in confirmation before I got us back the point. "I need to hear that story too, but what have you been doing with your free time then if not gaming? Lifting cars to keep those muscles in perfect condition?"

Now it was Henry's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Cars?" He questioned, but I simply shrugged in response. "No, not that. Well, I mean, I do spend a good portion of my day keeping fit, hence this fateful run, but what I was referring to is this..."

Henry flipped to a picture on his phone and showed me. I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking at so I took a guess.

"Painting figurines?"

"Pretty much," He nodded. "It's all tied in to gaming. They have a whole world and lore created about it."

I giggled and shook my head in mock disbelief.

"If only your fan-girls could see you now..."

"Oh, they love it," He smirked. "I posted the picture on my Instagram and apparently they find my nerdy side rather endearing."

"They're just blinded by your handsome face," I teased. "And your gentlemanly manners."

"Most likely," Henry agreed with a grin that filled me a warmth. "Speaking of, I think your dad has arrived."

I looked over my shoulder towards the road and spotted a man waving his arms.

"Yep," I nodded, shifting over to the edge of the picnic table. "Now, how are we going to do this? Can I hold your-"

Before I could finish my sentence, Henry had his arm tucked under my knees and lifted me up bridal style once again.

"Show off," I teased, reaching back to grab my bag from the table just before Henry started the walk up the hill. "I think you're just trying to impress me with your strength."

Henry glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Is it working?"

It was, but I shook my head.

"No, not at all," I lied. "If the tables were turned, I could carry you just as easily."

I was jostled slightly as Henry laughed at that bold statement.

"You're much stronger than you look then," He informed me as we got to the top. “Hold on to me now."

I listened to his instruction, keeping one arm draped around his shoulders as he lowered me to the ground, letting me lean my weight on him and off my left foot.

"Henry, what a pleasant surprise!" My dad greeted us, making me raise an eyebrow in suspicion of his rather familiar greeting of my new friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Unfortunately, I'm to blame for your daughter's injuries, Mr. Harris," Henry explained looking rather sheepish once again. "We collided on the path."

"It wasn't his fault," I insisted. "Neither of us were paying attention and he was kind enough to check me out after."

My dad glanced between the two of us, curiosity written all over his face.

"Check you out?"

My cheeks heated up as I realized how he'd chosen to interpret those words and I rolled my eyes.

"Check my ankle out," I clarified. "He says it's probably just sprained, but I can't put much weight on it."

"Well thank goodness Dr. Cavill was here to assist you," My dad teased, his smirk making me suddenly very aware that Henry still had his arm around my waist. "Your mother is worried sick though so we should probably get you home."

I nodded and hobbled towards the car with Henry's support. Once I was settled safely in my seat, I looked up at him.

"Thanks, Henry," I smiled. "I really appreciate your help."

"Anytime," He nodded. "Let me know when your ankle feels better, yeah?"

"Of course."

Before I could say anything else, my dad leaned over from the driver's seat.

"Can we drop you anywhere, Henry?"

"Oh, no, that's okay, thanks," Henry waved him off. "I should probably finish my run."

"Is that the safest plan?" I questioned, a smirk on my face. "Maybe you should get yourself a bell first so you don't mow down any more unsuspecting women..."

Henry fought back a smile as he feigned indignation.

"You never told me that your daughter was a comedian, Mr. Harris." He said to my dad as I giggled away at my own joke. 

"Yes, well, we try not to encourage her too much," My dad rolled his eyes. "Don't need her getting too big headed now, do we?"

I protested his comment as Henry laughed before we said a quick goodbye and he jogged off down the hill.

We drove in silence for a few moments before my dad looked over at me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," I assured him. "I fell pretty hard and obviously banged up my ankle, but it's definitely not broken so it'll heal."

"I'm glad to hear that," He nodded. Another silence settled between us before he spoke again. "Your mom's worried about you. She said you seemed down this morning and that you’re getting antsy."

I looked down at my hands, not wanting to delve into this conversation.

"Everyone's getting antsy," I shrugged, deciding I needed to quickly change the subject. "Anyway, why didn't you tell me that you knew Henry Cavill?"

"I don't really know him, but his parents live just down the street from us so I've met him once or twice," He explained. "I didn't know you were such a fan."

"Well, I'm not really," I admitted. "I'm not not a fan, but I don't know much of his work. He is rather...You know, he's got a nice..."

I trailed off realizing who I was talking to, but my dad simply smirked.

"A nice face?" He suggested. "Nice abs? Nice arms? Which I'm sure you got a great feel of since you definitely weren't six feet apart, young lady."

My cheeks were red as I swatted his arm.

"I know we weren't," I muttered, feeling like a teenager who'd just been caught sneaking out with a boy. "But I was injured and I couldn't walk."

"Well, I hope you're good at hopping because I won't be able to carry you into the house like that with my old back," He informed me. "I'm no Superman."

I rolled my eyes and mumbled a quick 'shut up' as I looked out the window, but there was a smile on my face that I couldn't shake and for the first time since this whole pandemic fiasco began, I felt a little flicker of hope.

[losille2000]

Mister America, Prologue: Massachusetts

CHAPTER NUMBER: 1/? CHARACTERS: President!Chris Evans/OFC (see notes) GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: After a massive social media write-in campaign organized by others, Chris finds himself thrust into a spotlight that he is unprepared to handle. His campaign managers suggest that a political marriage might help him weather the storm and help his image during the campaign... just so long as it isn’t the one woman Chris really wants. RATING: M  WARNINGS:  Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: This story is AU in the fact that this is the 2020 presidential race, and Chris is a candidate. But everything in the past is still the same with him being an actor. Also, COVID-19 is not a part of this story. I needed to play in a land where COVID didn’t exist and “Captain America,” in his alter ego, punched out a Nazi in a metaphorical(?) way. For more on the story, go here.

This first part is prologue-y.

I have also curated a soundtrack for all 50 states, and then some. You can listen on Spotify right now, may eventually put it on Youtube. There will be 50 chapters (I’m hoping), but many of them will be shorter.

Also on AO3!

Boston, MA Evans for President Campaign Headquarters November 3rd, 2020 30 Minutes Before First Polls Close

Stage fright is no joke.

When it hits, it hits like a semi truck going seventy on an icy Massachusetts road. In the blink of an eye, you’re completely obliterated. Except this is on stage and you’re not dead, even though you wish you were. In fact, you’re very much alive. Alive enough to feel the force of the impact, followed by the squeezing in your chest and choking on your breathless words. Paralysis takes over. Cold clammy sweat slicks your palms and also trickles down your back to that one spot between your shoulder blades you can’t reach, but causes your costume to uncomfortably stick to your skin.

There’s no escape. You know what’s coming. You worry you’ll forget your lines, or trip on your cue, or make a complete and utter fool of yourself. You feel like an imposter, questioning why you’re here, in this role, when that dude, JD, from your acting class years ago was a million times more talented than you, and you’re the one that got that teen movie deal.  You’re the one who became one of America's most beloved superheroes for a decade.

You’re also the one who has a very real chance of winning the 2020 presidential election, despite no college education, limited understanding of what elected officials in DC actually do on a day to day basis, and the closest thing you have to experience as a “boss” or “commander in chief” of anything was a movie set or two where you were director and executive producer. 

Nope.

What I, Chris Evans, have is a dedicated online fan base who took the time to write my name into ballots when they discovered I had filed for ballot access in every state of the union. I didn’t do the filing on a whim; we sat around late one night talking about the interviews I had been conducting in DC for a website about party positions on important issues. My business partners and I came up with the idea that a long form documentary about campaigning would be interesting, and we determined the best way to understand the process was to become a “candidate” myself. Meaning, we only planned to use the credentials to be on the front line of the campaigning process. I was never going to create signs and make speeches or debate with others.

I never intended to run a legitimate campaign.

But, as I mentioned, something strange happened during the Democratic primaries. People started to vote for me, a trickle of rain in a hurricane.

I won a few primary delegates.

Without even trying.

Not enough to win the Democratic ticket, but enough to make pollsters sit up and take notice.

My loyal fans stepped in again, undaunted, and ignited a storm. They dubbed it “Operation America’s Ass” and created a grassroots campaign across the country with GoFundMe donations and a lot of pluck. I thought it was a joke. A part of me still does think it’s a joke. I mean, what other explanation is there for this mess? For the red, white and blue bunting hanging on the walls with the “Chris Evans for President” sign plastered underneath it? For the staffers who stop briefly to see if I need anything...‘Would you like a drink, sir?’... or, upon seeing how pale I look, give me a vote of confidence… ‘Are you ready for your acceptance speech?’ There’s absolutely no good explanation as to why there are twenty or thirty people buzzing around the hotel suite waiting for results. They’re so energized with hope for a better future.

Hope that I can be everything they ever wanted in a president.

An Independent president, free from party oversight.

A president with class.

A president for the people.

A president who can bring the United States back from the brink of destruction at the hands of previous leaders.

I wish I had their confidence.

When they asked me on career day in school what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said artist. When I was older, in high school, I knew I was going to be an actor. Never president. The job never entered my mind as being a possibility, not even when I used to work for my uncle’s congressional campaigns. Or when I started filming those interviews.

Why does anyone think I, a straight white momma’s boy from Boston should be president in 2020? Just because I made a few popular Tweets about the current president’s lack of leadership?

It has to be a joke. A cosmic one. I’m a punchline. I am convinced they’ll jump out from behind a doorway and yell “You’ve been PUNK’D! We really got you this time, now here, Bernie, you’re the better candidate.”

And yet…

What if they see in me something I do not?

I place a lot of stock in being in the moment. I’ve also put a lot of work into accepting the twists and turns of life instead of allowing all the “what ifs” and “what should I dos” to eat away at me. I told everybody after I was done with Marvel and financially secure enough to only work on projects I really wanted to, I’d take life as it came at me.

Well, it came after me.

To be fair, I originally chose to get into politics, even in a tiny way, because I wanted to be informed about my choices. I created a website so others could learn, as well. As time went on, I became more involved on Capitol Hill. I even did some lobbying for a few causes dear to my heart. And, yes, I did file the ballot access paperwork.

Had I unintentionally set my path in this direction? Was it inevitable for me to become a contender for the presidency?

Fortunately, I learned early on in the process that a lot of being a presidential candidate is being a convincing showman. An actor. The world's a stage, after all, and I am but a player. You have to have some solid ideas and convictions to back up the image, but a lot of the governing comes from other members of the executive branch. Should I win, I’d only be signing off on everything.

Of course, that “everything” affects the lives of more than 300 million souls. I wouldn’t trust me with a kitchen knife, much less nuclear launch codes and people's livelihoods and education and health and…

My hands shake with nerves just thinking about it.

Let it be said, once I do make it out onto the stage--be it as an actor or presidential candidate--I rise to the challenge. The energy from the audience buoys me. Makes me feel alive. But I am not, by nature, someone who likes to sign away so much personal freedom in exchange for the weight of carrying an albatross around my neck. I thought signing for Captain America would be tough; the human toll of running for president even moreso.

Actually being President? I can’t even wrap my mind around that.

It would be easy to call it quits, even now when the votes are already cast. I could have done it a long time ago, when the reality of the situation hit me the first time. I didn’t. Something told me to hold back, play it out. I persevered. Why? Somewhere, along the line, I began to believe I could do this. I could make a positive difference in the lives of Americans.

I certainly want to do right by all my supporters--and my detractors. I want to be a leader for all Americans.

But can I, really, while knowing my incredible deficiencies?

Maybe I can’t, but I can be the team leader. A brand ambassador, if you will. A good leader delegates. And I intend, should I win, to surround myself with the best and brightest. I will accept no less. I will do ‘Whatever It Takes,’ as our slogan boasts. I am American, first and foremost, and I care deeply about this country.

A real Captain America, if you will. Maybe not as strong or powerful as others, but I sure as hell can give a great speech and will defend my country from bullies until my last breath, whether they be purple… or orange.

Except, I suppose if I’m elected, I won’t be Captain America anymore. They’ll call me Mr. President.

Or, horror of horrors, what if the new name my nearest and dearest coined makes it out into the public. They tease me with it just to see my visceral revulsion and get a laugh. But if I have learned anything about the internet--and pop culture--is that if something is catchy, it sticks around for a long time.

Maybe I ought to get used to the idea of being a punchline.

So, I suppose I have a question for you.

Won’t you consider a vote for Mr. America?

[nafeary]

[Requested by @nad-zeta

Hi hi love! I saw your post about matchup and dude i just freaken love requesting them! Hope u dont mind🙈🙈🙈❤ im doing it submission style cause i find the askboxs so small❤🌻 anyways im new to ya blog and i already love love love it❤

So i am an infp aries! I am super competitive, stubborn and aloof, will 100% make sarcastic comments and my kind of humor is dark, slightly morbid and self deprecating.

Anyways at first i am rather shy and reserved but one i open up i can be very goofy, playful and slightly childish. I love roughhousing (probs cause i grew up with a brother). I love to bake, workout/gym, run, watch conspiracies, writing, listen to music, help people, cuddle, sleep, spend hours just day dreaming and going for long drives. U wont catch me wearing anything other than my gym clothes so tights hehe. I am very all or nothing kind of person. I tend to go with the flow and i am super forgive and forget. ❤OOOH i almost forgot the most important fact lolz i love sweets! And both drinking and spilling tea😏😏😊

I dont like fruits, vegetables, or seafood (yes i am a picky eater) lol, hights, and bugs (cause they creep me out)

Hehe hope this wasn't tmi! Love ya lots 🌻❤hope u are keeping safe and warm❤🌻 and i cant wait to see which vampy boy u match me with❤❤😊]

I prefer a lot of information, don’t worry about it AND I ALSO HOPE YOUR WARM AND COMFY UNDER A BLANKET (if your in a cold country ofc... if not then treat yourself some lemonade).

I ship you with *le drumrolls”

The Frivolous Playboy,

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

I was originally gonna pair you with Theo, but considering you’re an INFP, Artho- I mean Arthur seemed to fit better.

Now, Arthot™️ might be a thot, but he is a soft thot. Your relationship would be soft, like a vast summer day; warm, bright, and lighthearted. He wouldn’t mind you dark humor, but would use his wit fittingly, making your laughter resonate, even over the most idiotic things.

Your rough and competitive nature would be well kept around him, randomly spicing up the day with little arm wrestling matches and small bets (like who could annoy Isaac the most lmao).

And not only that. OH BOY, you’ll have a lot of fun solving cases together.

Albeit, every summer sky is doomed to attract ashen clouds. Arthur has issues, that much is apparent from his route. On top of that, our Englishman served in war twice. Being an INFP, you’ll be able to break him out of his macabre monologues, and his self-loathing attacks. This relationship won’t only be about loving; indeed, it’ll be about supporting each other when both of you need each other, when you’re at your lowest.

But the gentleman (?) will run to your aid when you require it too. After all...

None you you can push the storms and maelstroms of despair back by yourselves, but you’ll diminish them - together.

[ohdearhiddles]

SUMMARY: When Loki can't sleep, he is riddled with past traumas. His mind wanders to places in which he is afraid he might never return. So, when a beautiful woman that speaks to him as if he has never done wrong appears, he can't bear to let her go.

She could be his clean slate. His new beginning.

TITLE: Goddess of the Lake

CHAPTER: 1/?

PAIRING: Loki x Ghost!OFC

WORD COUNT: 2466

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: Hi, hello! I had a LOT of fun writing this out so thank you to the anon who requested it. In fact, I had so much fun that I'm definitely going to be making it into a short multi-chapter fic. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed making it. :) (AO3 LINK)

Salem. A town, a person, and a ghost. 

Loki had never encountered a beauty such as she, nor did he believe that there was beauty to compare to hers. Under the light of the full moon, a young woman stood under a lone willow tree, her hands held up to her chest as she gazed at the stars. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, a sharp contrast from the pale fabric of her gown. She wore an elegant white gown, presumably Midgardian vintage from what he could see. 

The moonlight danced on her skin, a soft glow emanating from her body in response. Loki wanted to know her; he wanted to see how she glowed in the sunlight. Just by looking at the beautiful stranger, he could feel his world turning upside down. He could already feel his heart surging forward in a desperate attempt to satiate his need for an emotional connection. Despite these thoughts, the god was not aware that this would never happen. He would not realize this until it had become far too late.

At first glance, Loki believed he had laid eyes upon the goddess of the lake. Her eyes were wide with childlike curiosity as a meteor fell from the sky, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. The book in the God of Mischief’s hand long forgotten, he began a slow approach as not to frighten the young lady he had spotted.

Now, Loki was not the type to easily swoon. He had come across many beautiful women in the thousand years he had lived, and each one proved more beautiful than the last. However, this woman, this mere mortal somehow surpassed all expectations and had the god’s heart trembling in his chest with admiration and awe with her beauty. His steps were quiet as he carefully approached, hoping that the young woman would not run away at the sight of him.

What was she doing out here on her own? Why was she dressed so sparingly at this time?

The god’s foot gently knocked a pebble from its place as he took another step towards her, the sound causing her gaze to follow. Her eyes were gentle as they met his, and Loki stilled. If he thought her far-off gazing was magnificent, her eyes on him was pure perfection. Her lips were slightly parted, an unspoken wish seemingly playing on her lips - a secret of the most divine matters. 

“Hello,” he greeted, nodding in a polite manner before taking another wary step.

The woman’s eyes were still wide as she stared at him, watching his every move. He continued to walk slowly towards her until he was standing in front of the gorgeous young lady. 

“Are you able to speak?” His words sounded harsh upon first saying them, but Loki was finding himself to not be very patient for once. Usually he was capable of waiting; this wasn’t the case this very night. The sight of such beauty made his virtues shatter, and all he wanted was to know the name of the goddess before him. “I am Loki. Might I ask for your name?”

Her mouth moved, but no words came out. She held her hand to her lips, seemingly shocked that she had even attempted to reply. Was she mute?

The young woman smiled gently in embarrassment before opening her mouth once more, “Salem.”

Upon hearing her voice, Loki felt his heart warm. Never before had he heard such a melodious sound. He had heard many women speak, many birds sing, and many prized singers perform, but they all faded away at the sound of the one word. Something about her made his heart and mind run wild, and Loki wanted nothing more than to embrace each moment of his inevitable infatuation for her.

“Salem,” Loki repeated.

The name danced on the tip of his tongue like a song made specifically for him. It was as if he were the composer and her name the composition, a musical masterpiece that he would treasure for the rest of his life. The gentle look on her face made him want to cherish her for the rest of his days.

“Yes?” Her doe eyes were filled with curiosity, looking up at the god with a gaze so warm that Loki could practically feel the ice around his heart melt.

“I apologize if I am overstepping,” the god spoke, eyes wandering over the young woman’s body. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

The young woman didn’t respond at first. Her body stiffened as she turned to face the lake again. Salem’s lips pressed into a tight line as if she was contemplating her answer before speaking. Loki attempted to be patient once again, wishing only to hear her voice grace his ears for a third time.

“I couldn’t rest,” she spoke, voice uncertain as the words left her mouth. Loki couldn’t help but notice that her skin seemed to continue to glow despite the moon being covered by a cloud in the sky. He wondered about the phenomenon but didn’t put too much thought into it. There were far more pressing matters than the peculiar dull glow radiating off her skin. 

The God of Mischief nodded, knowing well what it was like to be restless. Sometimes he would lay awake until the moon had faded away and the sun was illuminating everything the eye could reach. Those restless nights came around more often than not, and in his personal experience, he had never wanted anything more than someone to converse with.

So, he offered, “If you would allow me to keep you company, maybe I could be of assistance.”

Salem nodded at Loki, her gentle smile reappearing. The god sat on the grass, patting the spot next to him as he stared up at the woman whose beauty only grew with each passing second. “I don’t bite.”

The mischievous grin on Loki’s face caused the mysterious lady to giggle before she hesitantly sat a foot or so away from him. Her hair fluttered with the gentle breeze as Loki began to talk to her about the moon, the stars, and the endless universes behind each one. Needless to say that Salem was more than just fascinated. Her doe eyes were wide with interest as she soaked in every word that was spoken. Every so often her melodic voice would ask questions to further understand the topic, and for those questions, Loki would be forever grateful.

He never wanted the conversations to end. He wanted every second of the next thousand years to be spent sitting by the side of a woman who did not fear him in the ways mortals, even the Aesir, typically did. In his mind, he wished for these moments to never end.

“Where are you from?” Salem asked, glancing at the foreign robes that adorned Loki’s godlike physique. Of course, she had noticed that his clothing was not of this country, perhaps even this world. The young woman had never believed in the great beyond or the existence of beings outside of Earth, but listening to Loki’s tales and recounts of great battles made her curious as to where such events were taking place.

Now, the chaotic god could have lied to her. He was the God of Lies and lying to a mere mortal would have been an easy feat. However, as he looked into the hazel eyes before him, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. There was no reason to lie to someone who had trusted him enough to sit and talk about all things that had happened under the watchful eye of the Allfather. So, he didn’t.

“I come from a place called Asgard,” Loki responded, eyes never leaving hers as he approached the topic with caution. If she didn’t know who he was before, then surely she would have some clue as to who he was now - what he had done to this planet.

Salem only nodded, “Tell me about it.”

To say he was surprised was something of an understatement. Usually when a mortal found out who he was, they would cower in fear, thinking that he would strike them down and make them bow before him. This wasn’t the case with the young woman. Loki happily went along with it, recalling everything he could remember since his banishment from the realm.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” he started. “The warmth of the morning star beats down quite heavily, but it’s warmth is inviting to all who stand beneath it. Men and women alike wear clothing made with the finest materials. It’s filled with the gods and goddesses of an old religion that was once treasured greatly on this planet.”

Salem sighed happily at the explanation, holding her hand out to splay on top of the soft grass below them. “It sounds divine.”

“It is,” Loki smiled, remembering the happier memories he possessed of the realm in which he had grown up in.

“Gods and goddesses, you say?” The young woman questioned as she continued to touch the blade of grass. “Does that make you a god, Loki?

Loki shivered in delight at the sound of his name coming from her lips. The sound almost distracted him from the fact that she seemed completely unaware of his status let alone his very recent history with the planet she inhabited. The god eyed her almost suspiciously before answering, wondering why she seemed to not be caught up in the times. Could she be from a different realm? Perhaps she was from Alfheim, but even then, she would have known of his existence. The beautiful creature before him most certainly did not look to be an elf either.

“I am, have you not heard of me?” Loki asked.

Salem shook her head politely, “I’m afraid not. My knowledge of deities is quite limited.”

The God of Mischief almost wanted to press further but the look upon the young lady’s face told him that there was no answer that would not open wounds of the past. So, he prompted himself to brush it off. If they grew closer perhaps he would be allowed to pry a bit more.

“And you?” Loki continued the conversation, “Where do you hail from?”

“Salem, the town of Salem,” she whispered, staring off into the distance as she answered his seemingly simple question. “It’s nothing like your home.”

Loki nodded, pretending to understand what she meant, “I’ve not seen much of it, but my team and I do see that there is some interesting history within the city. It may not be as beautiful, but it has its own sense of home to it.”

Salem didn’t respond; instead, she changed the subject. “Your family? Are they also gods?”

“Something of the sort,” he said. When he didn’t say much else, the young woman assumed there was nothing more to be said, and she respected the boundary the god had quickly drawn. He would have his secrets and she would have hers; it was fair. “Is your family still in this city?”

It was Salem’s turn to be mute to the subject. She pondered over her answer for a few moments before filling the silence, “They’re dead.”

Seeing as though both individuals seemed to be wary towards the topic, they came to a silent agreement as their eyes met. It was best to stay away from such personal questions, and without so much as a word, they both agreed to the unspoken rule.

Salem continued to ask questions about the stars and if Loki had ever seen them up close. She asked about Asgard and how different the gods were to the mortals of Earth. She asked Loki if he believed magic was real, and he told her that sorcery was an incredible power to harness. He also opted to show her a few illusions while he was at it. The joy in her eyes sparkled like geodes beneath the darkness of the night. With every minute sat beside her, Loki could feel his heart beginning to fill with an emotion he couldn’t quite grasp.

They spoke for hours beneath the moonlight, questions and answers filling the atmosphere like whimsical clouds. Salem wondered whether or not the god needed to sleep at all, but she also figured that she liked his company too much to ask. Loki spoke more than he had in centuries. His knowledge flowed from within him like a river of life. Every word he spoke seemed to breathe life into the bright eyes of the young woman.

As the night sky began to fade into a paler blue, the light in Salem’s eyes diminished. The childlike glow slowly disappeared as did the glow emitting from her pale skin. In fact, for a split second before she stood, Loki could have sworn the young woman was semi-transparent.

“I must bid you farewell, Loki,” she said, her voice much softer than it was before. It was almost as if all of her was fading away. The god nodded as he stood to his feet as well, and when he reached out his hand as a Midgardian offering, she only retreated further away. Loki withdrew his hand, staring down at it as if he had just done an unspeakable act.

“Will I see you again?” He asked.

“Perhaps,” she replied, eyes frantically looking around as if she were being chased down. Before Loki could say any more, she had swiftly walked away, retreating into the protection of the trees. He began to walk after her, hoping that she would make it home safely despite being out for all hours of the night. The voice of his brother stopped him, though, summoning him back towards where the small ensemble of Avengers were meant to meet up when the sun had risen.

“Loki,” Thor called, motioning for the God of Mischief to follow him. 

“Where are the others?” Loki inquired, glancing around to see if he could find any trace of the beauty that had left him far too quickly. He wanted to meet again, to talk like they had all night over and over again. In fact, the god wanted it so much that he was certain he would never tire of speaking to the mysterious woman named Salem.

Thor gestured to an opening in the woods where Natasha and Bruce were hovering over a mound of grass. The two gods joined the mortals, glancing over their shoulders to inspect whatever they had found. At the sight before them, Loki’s heart dropped into his stomach. Laying on the ground was a stone tablet, gently placed against the mound of greenery, with these words etched into it:

                                                      Salem

                                       The Town’s Last Witch

                                                1672 - 1693

[jaxsteamblog]

I started writing an outline for a non existent Flower Shop AU series but it just turned into Loving Avatar Thuy Hours.

Here are some great things about Avatar Thuy (SUPER long post because I love Thuy):

She tells her folks that she’s a girl around the same time she tells them about the bald man who taught her to sling mud. Because there’s not a lot of gendered differences in the Swamp Tribe, the trans thing wasn’t a big deal. Finding out their daughter was the Avatar, on the other hand, REALLY WAS.

The concept of “kin” (FOLKLORE TERM) and the connection of all life in the swamp via the root system has a profound spiritual effect on Thuy. She can perfectly call up any Avatar and, as she gets older, can channel them easily when in the Avatar State. For the on-screen Avatars, here’s Thuy’s hot takes:

Wan- She is Not A Fan. Doesn’t like how he shifts between being super cocky and super insecure. Wishes he had not closed off the Spirit Realm. (Not like it worked, as she gestures angrily around the swamp)

Yangchen- When Thuy learned about Fairy Godmothers from a book of Fairy Tales someone brought into the Swamp, this is immediately who Thuy thought of. Yangchen was always calming and patient, and listened every time Thuy would rant about her cousins stealing a toy or when someone pushed her into the swamp. Family is big in the Swamp and Yangchen became another mother.

Kuruk- He can’t handle kids. He also cannot handle the concept of hick Waterbenders. He is a North Pole Waterbender and (SPOILERS) fell for a high class Fire Nation Lady so, he does not like the Swamp. The Swamp is not a fan of his either.

Kyoshi- TBH Thuy was intimidated by her at first. However, when puberty hit, they talked a lot about body dysmorphia and what it means to be a woman. Thuy was able to accept her body with the continued help of Kyoshi. 

Roku- Roku is a story-teller. He told Thuy about the start of the war, and his time with Sozin. He talked about Azulon and what the royal family used to be like. Thuy was fascinated by the Fire Nation, wondering how such a mythological sounding people could do something so human like wage war.It allowed her to think of the Fire Nation as something more than just The Enemy.

Aang- The first Avatar to greet her. He was her confidante and like a very fun grandpa. He taught her to meditate and throw mud pies (breaking the rules by tiptoeing into Earthbender territory). He talked about the war as it was happening, and explained to her how important it was that she grow up safe. He talked about his kids and asked her about the Swamp. He explained how important it was to understand how all things, all nations, were connected and to make friends in every nation. He told her about Zuko, and about his grandkids. Especially Rohan, who might know a thing or two about pronouns. 

Sometimes, catgators are tame enough to keep near the residents. However, this is similar to things we see in the news when people keep exotic pets. Tame does NOT equal domestic, and bad things happen. So when Thuy shows up with Mister Whiskers, Everyone Is Quite Alarmed. 

Catgators, like real life catfish, are also borderline cryptids. No one knows how old they get. Or how big.

I imagine catgators move like alligators and can be surprisingly fast for their flat, fat bodies. Remember kids, run in a zig zag because they WILL get you.

I am from Florida. I live in Florida once again. My family has lived in Florida since we came to this country. I was “poor white trash” and had an accent. I am NOT indigenous (see above comment about coming to this country). I give Thuy a lot of traits from what I remember about growing up, things I know about the rural south via my family, and throw in the pieces I like from canon. I also want to explore topics that are indigenous specific like what’s happening to the Amazon and the continued sins my country commits on native and/or sacred land. As a sensitivity point: I do not wish to ever write about the trials and tribulations of these issues. That is for native people, as they are the ones who truly understand the generational trauma surrounding it. What I would hope to do is bring awareness to real world situations where we as non-indigenous people can assist.

Don’t let them cut down the Amazon y’all for real. And blowing up Mount Rushmore is RIDICULOUS.

Thuy loves people. Because she’s so used to being around a supportive community, and being a teenager, she doesn’t understand when adults are rude or mocking at first. 

However, she is VERY secure about who she is as a person. Her family and tribe has always supported her, so she has a very strong foundation. It takes a lot to rock her. Mostly, she gets embarrassed when people call her out or make fun of her for being loud and overly excited.

She is scared to meet Katara at first, because she learns a little about what Katara did in the war. What and who she lost. She feels bad that she wasn’t there. Thuy doesn’t know how to start a conversation with her, which is bad because Thuy not so secretly wants to replace Kuruk with Katara as her Water Tribe connection. She doesn’t want to go to Arnook, who lost his daughter, or Hakoda, who lost his wife, and Sokka is in the same category as Katara, obviously.

Suki finds her freaking out. And remember, Thuy is a close friend of Kyoshi. They talk and Suki relaxes Thuy by putting the Avatar in Kyoshi robes. Sokka finds them with Thuy thoroughly disguised and, I might actually write this scene so you’ll have to wait.

Thuy likes Azula at first because she is oddly fascinated by the performative femininity of the Fire Nation. Azula is powerful, confident, and very feminine, and that intrigues Thuy. But Azula is Azula and has very little interest in some backwater peasant, even if she is the Avatar.

Toph embraces everything about the Swamp Tribe, as does Rohan, so they are the ones Thuy is the closest to. Toph, as a more destructive Gyatso, figures out how to rig a pressurized device that launches mud projectiles and the two of them wreck havoc at fancy Beifong dinner parties. Rohan takes the technology up a notch and they all terrorize the Air Temples. Doesn’t have the same impact, because they all survived Aang. Toph teaches Thuy to take no shit and give no fucks.

Thuy is insecure about her inability to communicate with the Spirits. Having grown up in the swamp, she could see them and heard how other people ran into them. Especially the refugees that were allowed in. The Spirits seemed to guide certain people to Thuy, which meant they didn’t hate her, but they never seemed to engage. The only thing she could think of was Wan and blamed him unfairly for a long time.

Thuy does a traditional education as the Avatar. She works for a few years with Toph, having a basis in earthbending already from Aang. Crystalbending is her special talent and Toph dismisses it as playing with jewelry (but never discourages her pupil ofc). 

Jinora is Thuy’s airbending teacher and spiritual advisor. She is very good about calming Thuy when she continues to have this disconnect with the Spirits, but is unable to help her overcome it.

Tenzin deems Rohan too irresponsible but allows them to ferry Thuy around so they still teach the Avatar new things. Plus, in this world, there’s a secular sect of Airbending that Bumi - Aang’s son and an Airbender since apparently all Air Nomads are Benders?? - started during the war. They have a very loose relationship with the Air Nomad commitment to non-violence and can live in permanent residences. They are required to do their initial training at the temples, but many go back to their homes, don’t shave their heads, don’t live a monastic life, etc. Rohan goes back and forth about their place, but ultimately takes over as the head of the secular branch. It appeals to Thuy more and they take their role very seriously because of the responsibility. 

Zuko teaches Thuy firebending. His adaptations to include other styles makes it easier for Thuy to pick up, though she still learns the basics at the Royal Academy for Girls (where she meets Suzu and Zula). 

Katara is Thuy’s “master.” She helps Thuy navigate the political world and they work together on the Water Tribe restoration and re-unification plans. Katara oversees the training schedules, the visitations, the summits, the tributes, and every other bit of minutiae. She also gives Thuy a break and they hang out doing Waterbender stuff.

Sokka and Suki teach Thuy non-bending martial arts. Thuy can kick your ass in a multitude of ways basically.

Thuy gets her Avatar Companions at very different stages. You’d think they wouldn’t get along, but Thuy has collected them and they like her, so they make it work.

Suzu and Zula (those are their names, not nicknames) are twins. They are Firebenders and are not related to the royal family at all. They grew up near the palace, went to the Royal Academy for Girls, and were sent to the palace to keep Thuy company and it was supposed to be very formal and politically advantageous for their parents. Except they actually became friends with Thuy and escaped the Fire Nation to go on adventures, which their parents did not like.

Suzu is a blend of Azula and Ty Lee in my mind. She is named in honor of Fire Lord Sozin. (Her family is SUPER into Fire Nation superiority) She is cheerful and enjoys playing around. She and Thuy get overly excited about things together instead of being “mature” and “above such things” as many noble girls tell them repeatedly. Her “Azula” traits come out when someone insults her family or Thuy. She ends up learning chi blocking from Ty Lee. Suzu is not to be left unsupervised.

Zula is a blend of Azula and Mai. She is “the eldest” and does everything her parents tell her to do, even if she hates it. She is named in honor of Fire Lord Azulon (and I guess Azula?). She ends up becoming an instructor at the Royal Academy for Girls until Thuy whisks her away to go adventuring. Zula hates the rigid society among the nobles and very happily dashes off. Can’t say no to the Avatar right??? Her firebending skill is in marksmanship. She can and will singe the sleeve of some snotty little noble from across the room if they irk her. She learns to bend lightning from Iroh and even Thuy is a little scared.

When Thuy moved from her earthbending lessons and onto air, Toph opened up her metalbending academy to have something to do between professional bending competitions. Jae-hwan was a late addition because he couldn’t afford the fees. Then he found out that the fees were arbitrary because Toph is a Beifong and she gave him a room to stay in. Thuy met him when she visited her Sifu and he, not knowing she was the Avatar, stole her purse as a joke. When he did find out, instead of freaking out, started to make fun of her because some lowly Earthbender orphan was able to steal the Avatar’s wallet. He never lets her forget that or any other embarrassing thing he witnesses.

Tashi is very quiet. He surprised everyone by choosing to join Urban Dust, the secular branch of the Air Nomads, instead of continuing on at the temples. People thought he would become a great sage and possibly live old enough to see the next Air Nomad Avatar. But Tashi is a true child of the sky and would live on his Sky Bison Dawa if he could. He does not like being on the ground for long and frequently disappears to go flying. Tashi specifically asked that Rohan be his mentor, again shocking everyone, but Rohan understood. Getting older, Rohan calms down and becomes very philosophical. Tashi finds them to be very wise and they contemplate the nature of things together. Thuy appreciates the one friend of hers that would never end up in jail with her. Tashi brings the bail money. Tashi also hides the body. Tashi can keep secrets.

Aktuk was born and raised in the North Pole. His father is a waterbending master and his mother is a waterbending healer. His older sister is a waterbending prodigy. He lost his leg during his ice dodging ceremony when the boat crashed. As a non-Bender, he had almost drowned and has a fear of the open sea. He makes his own prosthesis and is very into mechanics. When Thuy attended a festival in the North Pole, they had collided because Aktuk was carrying a bunch of parts and material for a project and didn’t see her. Freaking out, Aktuk tried to scurry away as quickly as possible but Thuy kept asking him questions. When she asked how he kept his leg from freezing, Aktuk immediately started to infodump and forgot about being scared. Thuy had to drag him around for awhile, because Aktuk had been basically taught to defer to Benders, but they refused to let him. Suzu and Zula hated the reminder of Fire Nation propriety, Tashi accepted everyone, and Jae-hwan only cared if people were paying attention to him. Thuy and Aktuk date for awhile, but part amicably after they grow into different people.

Thuy saves the world and I steal Korra’s ending for her own. She balances the Spirit World and the Physical World, opening up the portals. She brings back DRAGONS.

Zuko and Katara ultimately retire. Their daughter Izumi becomes Fire Lord. Sokka and Suki’s daughter Kya surprises everyone when they find out she’s a Waterbender and sits on the Water Tribe triumvirate as the chief of the South Pole. Kya and Izumi, having been born on the same day, terrify the rest of the world with their closeness. They consider themselves more like sisters than cousins and have to be repeatedly talked back from their plans to rule the world. They aren’t killing machines, more that they think they know what’s best and only listen to each other. Sometimes Lu Ten. But ALWAYS Suzu. 

Rohan becomes the head sage of the Urban Dust and creates a flying society that freaks everyone out for awhile. Tashi goes to the Spirit World for a long time and comes back, a little weird. IDK, I have stuff to explore with him. It’s not bad, just very different. 

Suzu marries a nice, minor Fire Nation lord and settles down to teach firebending in his rural home. She adores the royal children and they adore her. When Suzu shows up at either the Fire Nation palace or the South Pole, other people know it’s because either Izumi or Kya were planning something.

Zula never leaves Thuy and they travel together forever. Are they together? IDK, it might just be my attempt to fix (what I think is wrong with) k*rr*sami tbh. 

Toph DOES end up going to the Swamp, but her family knows about it and visits her often. Toph does not become a cop ffs, she becomes Willy Wonka but without the candy and slave labor. Lin tries to head the Beifong family after her mother just leaves one day, but she is much more suited to being a metalbending instructor. Once Suyin settles down, she gently pries the Beifong stuff from her sister’s terrified hands and does a really good job at managing Gaoling. They both studied under the Avatar for a little bit, and their rivalry came about with Suyin getting along better with Thuy. 

Sokka, pulling an Iroh, never leaves his flower shop. People ask him if he’s THE Sokka, brother of the Queen of the Water Tribes, brother-in-law to the Fire Lord, friend of the Avatar, then the father of the South Pole chief and he always goes “No, I just look like him and we have the same name.”

He often says this while Zuko is sitting with him behind the counter, drinking tea. 

Aktuk helps rebuild the South Pole and the Water Tribe navy is reborn. The Earth Kingdom is shook. Toph introduces him to another Swamp Tribe member and he marries her. He loves the Swamp. The Swamp Tribe gains a lot more replacement limbs that were lost to catgators. 

Jae-hwan has a hard time letting go of the metalbending academy. He basically grew up there, and spent every free moment there if he wasn’t travelling with Thuy. When Toph has kids, he realizes he had thought of her as his mom and freaks out. She assures him that it’ll be okay. Before she runs off to the Swamp, she legally adopts him, making him a Beifong. He opens more metalbending academies but runs the one in Gaoling because of familial pride. He encourages Lin to take up pro-bending, and becomes a coach when the mixed bending circuit opens. Rohan is OBSESSED with mixed bending matches. 

Ultimately, Thuy gets to relax in a way Avatars had been unable to for many cycles. The Water Tribe navy keeps the coastal city-kingdoms in the Earth Kingdom in check, while also reinforcing the United Republic. With the Swamp Tribe literally in the Earth Kingdom, the city-kingdoms become more firmly established and the Earth King becomes the Earth Emperor, but has to manage all of the city-kingdoms and it’s just a lot you guys he is so tired. The Fire Nation goes through an artistic renaissance under Zuko’s rule and the former colonies turn into industrial powerhouses. They are an economic force unto themselves and protect the Fire Nation from Earth Kingdom advances. 

With the world in relative harmony, Thuy travels often, since her friends and family have settled all over the world. Mister Whiskers grows to ENORMOUS size and they put him in a wagon when they go around. He does not eat people (anymore) but the wagon still warns others not to get too close. 

Zula is always there, with her RBF and scary fast bending. Thuy is still prone to gleeful outbursts and Zula smiles lovingly. They like to read together and will fall asleep resting on Mister Whiskers as they all bask in the same sunny spot. 

Aw crap, they are together.

[malfoysqueen54]

White Flag

Dean and her grew up together, trained together. Also, absolutely can’t be in the same room without a fight ensuing. When she has to come back and help out the boys and their friends. If she stays too long will all her secrets come out. She swore he would never know, circumstances and their friends and family, they might have other ideas.

Pairing- Dean x OFC

Warnings: Angst!, oh and ANGST! Triggers for Alcohol and drug abuse. Anger issues. Dean angry and yelling. (That needs a warning). Eventually smut. Sexual situations, cussing, blood, gore, the usual Supernatural warning.

A/N: Okay thank you @my-proof-is-you​ and @winchest09​, especially her! Girl, you mean so much helping with this. Giving me confidence to write again and for reworking so much of this for me. I luv ya! You are amazing. I know it’s not a Reader fic. I am old school and haven’t delved into that yet. Sorry give it a shot if you want.

Okay so I reworked this, it is now y/n, a reader insert. So enjoy everyone. Each part will be reposted.

P.S. Listen to White Flag by Bishop Briggs. It really fits this story and why I used it for the title.

       She still remembered the first time she realized she loved him; the fear that engulfed her. She drove 17 hours straight to get to the hospital, just to see him. Y/n had been frantic, begging the medical staff that entered his room for help. When they said there was nothing they could do, she started making phone calls to private specialist doctors, screaming for help down the line at anyone who would answer. She needed someone, something to show up and fix him. The arrogant, cocky, dickhead Dean Winchester.

It was well known that her and the green eyed hunter did not get along, that they had loathed each other from day one; fighting constantly. Dean was a lothario. A man with no respect or genuine feelings for women. It was all one night stands and quick hook ups, something Y/n couldn’t abide by. They were just a few of the reasons why she decided to not hunt with the Winchesters anymore. Vowing to herself that she’d only return to them if they really needed her. However as she looked over and saw him lying on the hospital bed, comatose, she knew that she would do anything for him. 

But he could never know; the hostility between them needed to stay as it was.

Y/n had known the Winchesters ever since her parents had died. She was 11; just a young girl who had a tendency to bottle things up. When she came into their lives, Dean was 14 and Sam was 10, meaning they ended up growing up together. John and Bobby made the decision to raise her in the life and train her; something she took to like a fish to water. When Dean got older, he stepped in to help with the training but Y/n’s alpha like domenaur only clashed with that of Dean’s. Needless to say, the fighting between them started from a young age. 

When Sam left for college, Y/n decided to also leave, hunting on her own. It was going fine until Sam called asking for help with a case, pulling her back into the life like he’d been pulled by his brother. But Y/n refused, not wanting to deal with the headache that was Dean Winchester. 

But that all changed when her phone rang and Sam told her Dean was at death’s door. She spared no expense to return to the Winchesters, using what money had been left to her in her inheritance from her wealthy parents to race back to be by his side.

--

Y/n left the Winchester brothers behind after John’s funeral, going back to her old life; only keeping in touch with Bobby to make sure they were ok. But once again Dean wasn’t ok. He’d sacrificed his life for Sam’s, making a deal with a demon to bring his little brother back from the dead. That familiar fear of losing him once again gripped at her chest. So she scoured 15 countries in search of a way out for him but it was of no use; he died, horribly. 

Just as she was beginning to feel less numb from grief, Dean rose from his grave. She dropped everything she was doing to race to see him once again. She arrived at Bobby’s home in record time only to find out that angels existed and that Sam was working with a demon. Her head was reeling, she had no idea what was going on so she demanded answers from Bobby. He filled her in on everything she’d missed; Ruby, the angels and the seals. There was not an ounce of good news apart from Dean being alive. 

Even though the situation seemed dire, Y/n told herself to stick with them as they needed her help. Dean’s jibes and arrogance she found it oddly comforting to be back in the same old routine; nothing had changed. It was only when she went in search of him that she had a cold hard reminder that Dean Winchester would never change. 

The handprint on the fogged up impala’s window, the slight movement of the impala’s chassis; the bottle of Jameson gripped firmly in her grasp as she stared. Anna wasn’t the first woman to succumb to Dean’s ways in the backseat of the impala and she probably wouldn’t be the last. Y/n took a long shot from her bottle, her throat burning as she swallowed. The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn, her eyes rolling when she saw Ruby approach her. 

“You’re a good actress, truly, But you let that mask of yours slip when he’s in trouble,” Ruby remarked, looking over to the Impala with a rueful grin.Y/n scoffed, downing another shot from her bottle, her eyes never leaving the shadows behind the fogged windows. It was freezing out but she couldn’t feel it, she felt nothing but the pit in her stomach and the enraged pain in her chest.

“You know, a woman like you will never win his affections. It would never work between you two and that's why you fight it so hard. I know, ” the demon sighed looking to the ground. Was that actual pity from a demon? It was the final straw for her that night, the mixture of anger fueled with alcohol made Y/n whirl around and hold a cursed blade to the brunette’s throat. 

“Don’t give me a reason to use this,” Y/n growled, her blonde hair framing her face, “and don’t act like you know a damn thing about how I feel.” She walked off, taking another pull of her bottle before throwing it forcefully away from her, frustration seeping from her every being.

She left again that night. Not willing to face Dean after he’d had sex with the angel he’d known for all of 5 minutes. Her story with the Winchesters didn’t end there, Y/n returned to the boys when another mess had to be cleaned up. Sam had opened the gates of Hell. 

She arrived just in time to see the fight between him and Michael, Dean looking beaten and defeated as he supported himself against the impala. It was in that moment that she hurriedly arrived, that she saw her best friend, her brother, take that plunge. It broke her. 

Dean was devastated, pulling himself up off the ground when he turned and saw her standing there.Y/n had wanted to say so much but her breath stalled in her chest when she opened her mouth. His jaw clenched and without a word, he turned his back on her and got into the impala, speeding away from her. However, she decided that she would follow him, wanting to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like last time. A decision she ended up regretting as the sight in front of her damn well destroyed her.

Her car slowed down a few houses away, but she could see him clearly by the porch light. Lisa, he had run to Lisa. Not a single word to her; the girl he grew up with about the loss they both experienced; nothing. She was nothing to him. This should have been the point of no return for her, she told herself it was but no. 

When Y/n found out Sam was alive and topside, she decided to watch them from afar, punishing herself as she did so. Reminding herself that she meant nothing to Dean, that she was just a void space that wasn’t needed or missed. Even on his birthday, she made sure to leave him a present. It was inconspicuous, no tag or card yet it was a gift that would hold meaning. She waited until he found it, looking around his surroundings to see if he could spot the person behind the gift and in that moment, she swore he saw her. Heart caught in her throat, she disappeared quickly; just as if she were a figment of his imagination. 

Bobby had passed. That one hurt,a lot. She owed a lot to that man and she wanted to send him off properly. No words were exchanged between her and Dean, not even when they were gathered around the pyre. But as she looked through the flames, she caught the eldest Winchesters stare. To this day, the pained look in Dean’s eyes haunted her. 

-

Y/n was distracted from her memories as Benny walked in holding out the phone. 

“It’s a message from the boys,” he told her simply. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. Benny sighed, deleting it. “You can’t avoid them, or him forever. Sam, Cas, Jack, hell even Rowena misses you.”

“If it's really serious Sam would let me know. I miss them too. Dean? Not so much.” Her words were bitter and slightly slurred. 

“Liar.” Benny gave her a bland look. Rolling her eyes once more she downed her drink and got up. 

“I’m going to bed. Just remember that you are here because I brought you out of Purgatory where dickhead Dean had sent you. I have blood for you, and I need back up. I don’t need a fang therapist.” With her curt statement, she brushed past him and headed upstairs.

Benny just shook his head. All he had to do was get her there, to the bunker. The others would help keep her around a little longer than usual. He turned, following her to her room.

“Come on, it’s Jack’s birthday, and they have a case they need you for. Y/n/n, come on,” he pleaded, his voice gentle.Y/n halted and sighed, her shoulders falling and with that, he knew she had caved. 

“Gas the jet. We will be there tomorrow morning. Just-just, leave the Dean thing alone Benny. I mean it.” Nodding with an understanding smile he turned back to the living room to inform Sam of their pending arrival. 

Y/n flopped on her bed with a heavy sigh and thought about how many years this had been going on, the Winchester War. All she ever wanted was for him to be happy, truly happy. That’s all anyone ever wants for the one they love, even if it does end up making you miserable and bitter.

This was going to be fun. 

okay tagging my girls

@thorne93​ @st-eve-barnes​ @pegasusdragontiger​ @suz-123​ @magellan-88​ @my-proof-is-you​ @carryonmywaywardwriters​ @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​ @winchest09​ @janicho88​ @flamencodiva​ @katehuntington​ @jensengirl83​ @anathewierdo​ @emoryhemsworth​ @superfanficnatural​ @jules-1999​ @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​ @talesmaniac89​ @atc74​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @smol-and-grumpy​

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Of Dust and Ashes (Chapter 2)

Clint x ofc

Chapter warnings: Mourning, grief, residual trauma, dead bodies, mention of child Dusting, mention of suicide

AN: Well, we’re here for chapter two. Again, keep in mind it will be a good while until our two people come together. They’ve got a long way to go and are about halfway across the country from each other. While we work to bring them together however, let’s explore what the world after the snap would have likely been like together, yea?

Thanks to @winterisakiller who’s outraged gasps fuel my soul and @tnystrk-exewho is always telling me to go the extra mile and throw in just one more dead body. 

The rest of the chapters are on my masterlist. Have a happy Friday <3

Chapter 2- The Dawn of a New Day

As the sun came up on a whole new world, the sky looked to be a fire of reds and oranges. Impossibly fine dust floated up on the slightest wind and left the sky in a constant hazy state, making the orange and red even more prevalent. Over and over again, Clint told himself that it was just regular dust though he knew it wasn’t.

He’d spent the whole of the day before in a panicked daze and looking back, it was hard to remember the details. One second he was standing with his daughter and his wife, Laura called to him. He looked away from his daughter, toward the rest of his family and when his attention returned to Lila, she was gone. Looking around, he had found himself alone with not even a clue as to what had happened.

He didn’t see it happen and so he looked for them. They should have still been there.

He ran around that field yelling their names. He searched the house, the basement and the shed. Every inch of the property was searched and searched again as panic clouded his mind. Even though all the vehicles were still parked, Clint jumped into the truck he called his own and drove, house arrest be damned.

He went down every back road looking for them, yelling their names for hours until his voice gave out. It was well passed noon when he made his way into town and filled his tank with gas. It was in town that he first got the slightest idea what may have happened to his family.

It wasn’t as if he was unaware if the events in New York. But none of his friends and past teammates had called him to assist. It seemed reasonable to expect they had everything under control. They would have called him if they needed his help. They should have called them if they needed him.

He could only assume that people turning into dust had something to do with what had happened the day before. Yet, he couldn’t even wrap his mind around whole people simply turning to dust, simply gone. There was were so many things that he didn’t understand about the universe but still, whole people turning to dust was something that he couldn’t fathom.

He needed to know how it happened. Why it happened. How could his friends, his old teammates fail so spectacularly as to allow whatever had happened to happen? Shops were abandoned, cars were abandoned and what people remained in the already small town clung to each other in small groups in the streets. Others seemed to mill about lost.

Clint walked into the small grocery and looked around. The doors were unlocked, the lights were on but the store was largely empty. He grabbed a bottle of water and sat down on a bench, pulling out his phone and dialing those who apparently lost the one fight that counted more than any of the rest only to get voicemail.

~~~~~<3

With a firm shake of his head, Clint pulled himself out of the memories. It was a new day and all be could do was continue pushing to find answers. Pulling out his cell phone, he began calling again. He didn’t know if the owners of the numbers he was calling were still around or if they had turned to dust as well but he needed someone to answer. He needed to know what happened and how to undo it.

~~~~~<3

~~~~~<3

Deanna was confused when she woke, feeling like she was being cooked to death under a mountain of blankets. Her body was tired and she wanted nothing more than to sleep longer yet she feared going back to sleep. She had the most terrible nightmare during the night where her children had died. It had felt so real that the pain still ripped through her as she fought back blankets.

Opening her eyes, she was greeted with her children’s room. That wasn’t right. She never slept in the kids room. Hell, she hardly ever let the kids sleep in her bed. They somehow grew four extra limbs each, gain hulk strength and become violent in their sleep.

Looking around the room, a sick realization hit her. It wasn’t a dream though it was very much a nightmare.

As she gathered Frankie’s blanket and Aurora’s doll, her movements felt robotic all the while. She left the room and turned off the light, not looking back. Part of her hoped that she would find the kids in the living room. Maybe if she pretended it hadn’t happened, somehow it would change the facts.

Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she made her way to the kitchen and made herself breakfast and a pot of coffee. Whether or not she could eat, she didn’t know but making breakfast was a habit. She quickly realized she had made enough to feed the family.

She wasn’t feeding a family. She’d never be feeding her family again. After all that she had gone through, she no longer had a family. It was just her and a kitchen with too much food. It took everything she had to ignore the plates still sitting on the counter from the day before with their dried out and remains of pancakes while she walked by toward the couch.

From the TV she could hear talking and rustling but there was no one currently standing in front of the camera and the sign was still sitting on the desk. But people were in the studio and she hoped that was a sign that an update would be coming soon.

It surprised her that she found herself able to slowly eat almost half of her breakfast. After the second cup of coffee, she felt something resembling human as she stood in front of the large living room window, looking out. There were some people on the streets and the sun still low on the horizon. A haze filled the sky and she wondered if it was from smoke or ash… or dust.

“It doesn’t feel right to say ‘Good Morning’ but Gold Beach, we’re here just the same.” Martha’s voice called from the TV as she made her way behind the desk, tucking the sign away. Deanna turned from the almost normal view outside the window and made her way toward the couch to listen.

“Information is still highly limited at this time however as always we urge all our viewers to be calm and good citizens.” Sean, the lead morning newscaster made his way into the frame and took a seat next to Martha, who looked like she had yet to sleep.

“What we know as of yet is this: There has been some sort of global mass casualty event, the cause of which is still unknown at this time. As you may or may not be aware, the United States government has declared a state of emergency and all citizens are urged to comply with all official orders. We have been advised that the National Guard is mobilizing and that each home will receive a visit from officials to provide rations and water. You are directed to stay home, stay safe.” Martha finished, running her hands through her hair and looking over to Sean, a much younger and newer face within the station.

“Public transportation systems are down and I recommend filling bathtubs and sinks with water in case the electrical gird goes down.” Sean spoke calmly, each word carefully rehearsed and each breath measured and controlled.

“No, they said we don’t have to-” Martha was shocked when Sean turned toward her, voice raising slightly. His carefully controlled exterior shattered.

“They said.” He snapped. “Have you seen a National Guard helicopter? Have you seen anyone outside of the military bases reporting any type of aid yet? We don’t know how long until they will actually get to us- if we are even a priority! They are telling the whole country the same thing. They are saying that the military is intact and that they hardly lost any men. I don’t fucking buy that.”

“Sean, you’re-”

“Scaring people? They should be scared. Mass amounts of people turned to dust with no warning and for no apparent reason. Where is word form the President? Where is his public address? Hell, it was an adviser that made the announcement and it wasn’t even broadcast correctly. We don’t even know if they are still alive.” Sean was nearly yelling now. His young face was flushed and tears were gathering in his eyes. Deanna could do nothing but watch as she sat on the couch.

“What I do know is approximately half the people I know cannot be reached. What I do know is my sister’s three week old baby turned to dust in her arms just over 24 hours ago. What I do know is that I found her hanging from the staircase this morning. I know that I drove by the burnt out shell of a school bus this morning. I know that people turned to dust and even more people died and everyone is acting like this is fucking okay. It’s not fucking okay. This is the end of the world and I’m not going to spend it waiting for the fucking government to save me. I’m getting the fuck out of here and you should too.” Sean flipped Martha the finger and stormed off the set leaving a stunned silence behind.

“I-” Martha’s voice cracked as she ran her hands through her hair. “I don’t know what to do. We just- we have to keep pressing forward. Taking care of each other.” Matt came into view, sitting where Sean had been and rubbed Martha’s back as she took deep breaths, trying to regain her composure no doubt. In Deanna’s living room on the other side of the city, her coffee cup slipped from her fingers.

“As always, we are committed to bringing you the facts as best we know them.” Matt started after taking a deep breath. His voice wasn’t as steady as it had been the night before and like Martha, he looked as if he had hardly slept. “There have been additional deaths at the hospital directly related to lack of staff and we urge anyone with any type of medical training or background to report to hospitals and inpatient medical facilities. Via internet reports we’ve had visuals of two downed passenger aircraft though it is unknown if there was any survivors. We can only assume there are others and that the cause was related to the events we have witnessed yesterday. I beg that you all embrace and take care of your fellow men and women as Americans and human beings.”

“We can only pray that God holds us in his hands.” Martha added, voice shaking.

“We’ll be back in a few hours with another update.” Matt added as he put up the sign again.

~~~~~<3

Deanna spent the day wrapped in her blanket. Sometimes she cried. At times she screamed and screamed until her voice gave out. She has no idea how she functioned for the rest of the day yet somehow she did. The day came to an end and again she found herself sleeping in her children’s room.

~~~~~<3

The next morning wasn’t any better. Nor was the rest of the week. She made food, ate some and drank coffee. She cried, screamed and sat in front of the TV. It could have gone on for weeks or months until she shriveled up and died.

But it didn’t.

What snapped her out of the state was being plunged into darkness. It was as if a switch flipped in her. Deanna stood, joints aching and stiff from the little movement she had done in the last week and slowly made her way over toward the window. Looking up and down the street, she simply saw darkness. It was a darkness like she had never seen before, a pure darkness unmarred by any distant glow.

Yet the longer she stood there, looking out into the darkness the more her eyes adjusted to it. There was comfort in the darkness. The moon shone brightly, reflecting off of cars and damp sidewalks. Stars filled the sky, more than she had ever seen before. It was calming and in a way forced her to see the world through a different light.

Something in the world around her had changed on a fundamental level. A good number of people all over the world was gone. The Avengers, those who proclaimed themselves to be the defenders of the Earth had battled a great enemy from somewhere she couldn’t even begin to wrap her mind around and they had lost.

~~~~~<3

A week after the event that what remained of the world’s major news outlets dubbed ‘The Decimation’ it was clear that the world was struggling to figure out how to move forward. Listening to the emergency radio did nothing but prove that the world wasn’t going to just right itself any time soon. There were promises from the government that the National Guard would be providing aid but no additional information as to how or when.

They were advised time and time again to sit at home and wait. According to the news casters, some went out and opened shop or tried to distribute aid independently. No one had apparently heard from the President and many other world leaders were missing or confirmed ‘dusted’. Some had a designated next in command that was able to fill the space. Other countries were reportedly in chaos based on reports from within their boarders but in areas where the power had died, access to the internet died with cell phone batteries.

Deanna went out when the National Guard never came and went to the gas station near her home, driving along deserted roads. It was odd and peaceful. Birds chirped in trees though they were far and few between. There was a lack of birds and small creatures. It seemed that whatever being it was that decided what was worth being dusted took out avian populations along with feline.

Pulling into the parking lot, she noticed the shop windows were smashed in and glass sparkled on the pavement. It was almost pretty. Cutting the engine, Deanna stepped outside and that same glass crunched under her feet as she walked into the shop.

The shelves partially were nearly picked clean. Carefully, she gathered what supplies she could find. Every movement felt nearly automated. She hardly thought as she moved. It was better to not think, she found. If she didn’t think than she wouldn’t remember the times she had walked with the kids to this corner store to get ice cream in the summer. As she loaded up her car, the gleam of a metal baseball bat caught her eye, peeking out from behind the counter.

She debated for a moment and almost didn’t take it, then she remembered the broken windows. If people were beginning to start stealing from shops, was she really safe? One unsure step after another, she walked over toward the bat peeking out from behind the counter back inside the store. Glass crunched underfoot and reflected light. The world was silent.

Wrapping her hand around the smooth surface, she finally looked behind the counter and a scream was torn from her throat.

He must have been the shopkeeper at one time, based on his uniform. Blood pooled around the man’s misshapen head. Blood stained the green and yellow shirt a dirty brown and dried. One open eye looked out at her, accusingly. With fingers locked on the bat she jerked back, more a reaction than anything. The bat slipped out of his relaxed hand as she backed, palms scratching on glass on the ground.

She crawled away before managing to get to her feet, bat clutched in her and. Shaking legs did nothing to slow her down as she ran to her car, ripping the door open and slamming it shut before she had even fully settled into the seat. The force of the door hitting her hip would likely leave a bruise. Breaths were coming fast as she fought back panic.

Slamming the key into the ignition, she nearly screamed when the radio came to life with the same emergency deceleration message that had filled the airwaves all day. The car screeched as she rushed out of the parking lot and onto the road as if the man would rise up as a demon to claim her life for having the nerve to steal from him.

Tears gathered in her eyes but only a few escaped as she parked in front of her home. Grabbing the bat, she examined everything around her. How could she trust anyone with what she had just seen? Why? Swallowing bile, she decided it didn’t matter. This wasn’t the world she knew anymore. Nothing made sense anymore.

It took longer to unload the car and bring in the cans of food and water than she wanted or expected. Not once did she let go of the bat, causing the delay. Every Gust of wind caused her to startle. As she worked she could feel eyes on her. The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end though as much as she looked around, she couldn’t spot anything different than any other day this week.

Once inside, she threw the deadbolt on the door. Going through the dark house, she checked every window and the back door. When she had purchased this home, not even a year ago she had loved the large picture windows that allowed her to keep an eye on the children playing outside. Now the large glass panes did nothing but fill her with dread.

Lighting an oil lamp that she had purchased mainly for decoration but was now very much thankful that in was functional, Deanna pulled the case of water into the hall and out of sight before going back for the bags of cans. She turned the volume down low on the emergency radio and set on the case of water. Lastly, she pulled Frankie’s blanket and Aurora’s stuffed fox into the hall while clutching a can opener as if that would somehow protect her from demons.

Turning the wick down as low as she dared, she hoped no one would seek her out. On the radio, the same emergency declaration that had been playing nearly nonstop for the last few days abruptly cut off, plunging her into silence. The silence was oddly comforting, allowing her to hear the crickets outside chirping with the sun sinking behind the horizon by the minute. Part of her hoped that the silence would go on for the rest of the night. A gruff man’s voice filled the air, shattering that blessed silence.

“Good evening Cook County. Rejoice as you are now under rule of the Manson family. I am King Chris Manson and I expect that you will all kneel before me.” There was scuffling in the background before a second voice was heard, yelling in panic and fear both.

“You can’t do this. You can’t declare yourself King. This is America! We are Americans!” Rather than argue with the unknown man, gunfire filled the air.

“I can and I did.” The self proclaimed King Chris Manson calmly spoke. “For those who may be too dumb to figure it out- That man just learned what happens to those who oppose my rule. I expect as I tour my Kingdom that all residence offer a quarter of their supplies as Tax. Refuse and suffer. This isn’t America anymore. America died when it’s leaders were turned to dust. This is the Kingdom of Manson.”

“All hail King Manson!” A few voices cried out before static filled the air and Deanna turned off the radio, sitting in her self imposed silence as she tried to both think and not think. She wanted to cry but it felt like her tears had run dry. Still, the well of sadness was deep.

This was really happening. This was reality. The National Guard wasn’t coming to save her. The government wasn’t stepping in. People were dying still. People were killing each other.

~~~~~~~<3

The brittle sound of glass shattering woke her from her uneasy sleep. Deanna’s back was stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor or perhaps it was from the night prior on the Frankie’s too small bed. The lamp had gone dark at some point during the night, likely having run out of fuel.

Creeping around the corner while gripping the baseball bat, she peeked into the main room. Moonlight glittered off broken glass on the living room floor. For a moment she thought about how hard it would be to clean the glass up so that the kids didn’t find shards in the carpet. Then she remembered that it didn’t matter, she could leave the glass there for the rest of the month and the kids wouldn’t cut themselves on it. The kids won’t cut themselves on anything ever again.

The beam of a flashlight moved over the kitchen and someone was opening cabinets. They hadn’t seen her in the dark. She wasn’t well hidden but the shadows did enough to hide her. She wasn’t sure if she should just let them take what they wanted.

“Do you see Deanna?” A voice called from outside. It sounded like the children’s gym teacher, Mr. Rick.

“No.” The man in the kitchen called back as Mr. Rick walked closer, stepping over the broken window frame into the living room and Deanna realized it was the children’s teacher from the year prior, Mr. Taft. “Aurora said Deanna was always shopping. There’s lots of stuff here.”

“What are you doing?” Deanna stood, bat hanging limply from her hands as she realized she knew these people. “Why did you break the window?”

“We’re gathering supplies.” Mr. Rick said as the two beams of light settled on her, blinding her for a moment.

“That’s my food.” She dumbly observed as Mr. Taft loaded up a bag of canned goods regardless of the fact that she was standing there, watching.

“It’s ours now.” Mr. Rick answered, joining Mr. Taft in the kitchen and loading up everything he could grab. Deanna launched herself at them, dropping the bat and pulling at Mr. Taft’s arm.

“You’re a teacher for god’s sake!” She yelled.

“Was a teacher. There are no teachers anymore. There are no more students, no more schools.” Mr. Taft pushed her and she fell to the ground only for Mr. Rick to kick her, the blow connecting harshly.

Blindly she grabbed at the bat and swung. It took a few tries for the bat to connect the first time. She kept swinging until they backed away. Her chest was heaving and panic was welling inside of her as she swung and swung. Tears fueled by panic filled her eyes. It didn’t register that they had abandoned their spoils and left the way they had come until the bat was hitting nothing but cabinets and floor, the hollow sound filling the still air.

Deanna didn’t sleep that night. Instead, she crawled through her house, trying to accomplish her goals without drawing any attention to her home. Carefully, she pulled toward the front door a pillow and blankets. By dawn she had a pile of stuff that wouldn’t even begin to cover all her needs for the foreseeable future. Yet it would have to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3

@usedtobegoodfriend96, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @dangertoozmanykids101, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @michelegurl

[ryncorrect]

university!au: day6 jae

following my uni!au with young k (idk how to link my own post asbajdnskmd im Dumb) so here another one with jae lol i think im gonna make one for each one of them buttttttt no promise bc my brain works in a very mysterious way LOL

anyway leggo

warning: this is lame lmaooooo

name: park jaehyung / jae

major: politic science

other activities: guitarist (and sometimes vocalist) of university band, member of music club, founder and leader of LOL SQUAD

everyone knows that tall skinny guitarist of the band i mean he’s hard to ignore tbh

he always wears loose T-shirt, ripped jeans, a cap that he puts backward, and round big specs to campus

professors hate his ripped jeans but can’t really say anything because oh well style doesn’t define someone’s grades and boy, does this kid actually get some braincells in him

well i mean at least he never fails his classes

he has this giant LOLSQUAD badge on his backpack because he’s proud af of his title as the club founder and leader

he actually started that club so he could to brag about his gaming skill to everyone who wanted to listen but he ends up getting his ass handed to him every single time they play together smh

if he’s not in class or hanging out with his game buddies, he can be seen following that Popular Student™ kang younghyun or as jae prefers to call him, “brian” or “brIBRI” because they both joined music club and are in the band

yes yes he’s well known and easy to spot

but…

“jae? park jaehyung?? who???”

everyone refers to him as “that foreigner student”, “the American guy” or “the gamer guy”, or my favorite: “chicken little”

i will never let that joke die im sorry but seriously he looks like chicken when he plays his guitar on the stage don’t @ me

there are only like 5 students in the whole university who know his actual name

anyways in this scenario you’ve always been interested in playing guitar but haven’t gotten a chance to learn and your friend kim wonpil invites you to join music club so you’ll have friends to practice with

“you know our jaehyungie, right? he’s really chill, you’ll get along well with him!!”

deep inside you’re like

who the heck is jaehyung

but wonpil is so excited to have you there so the next week you come to the club meeting

you introduce yourself to everyone and finally you meet him

“ohmygod the chicken little!!”

“whO THE HECK ARE YOU CALLING THAT”

“sorry- i mean the chicken guitarist- wait no-”

he glares at you, you laugh instead

scaring the new member challenge: failed

but yeah you’d seen him performing before and honestly you almost decided to become his fan

a l m o s t

at first he (jokingly) refuses to teach you guitar because you called him chicken little

and since then you keep calling him that just to mess with him

“hi chicken little”

“what’s poppin chicken little”

“why do you look so flustered, chicken little? do i make you nervous??”

he turns red chicken little is now an angry bird “gO AWAY NEWBIE YOU’RE SO ANNOYING”

jae’s a foreigner but he speaks fluent korean

he tells you that even though he was born and grew up in america he always speaks the language with his parents

but of course since he lives abroad there are lots of words or slang he doesn’t know, so you gotta be an ass and slip some difficult words when you speak to him

he gets his revenge by replying to you in english

whenever you two are having an argument (usually over stupid things) everyone in the club suddenly gets headache

wtf they’re not even making any sense

besides music, jae is the most excited when talking about LOL or social topics because well his major

honestly idk much about politic science so cmiimw

one time someone asks for his opinion about social welfare and he ends up starting a sudden debate session with the said person about social welfare programs in south korea and america and the difference between both countries

you mention human rights and he sNAPS

i mean he gives a full 15 mins speech about it

“yknow what im sayin?”

“dude… i honestly don’t get it at all”

because he be speaking in full english like wat

he’s just so passionate about everything it’s almost adorable

a l m o s t

and it’s not only his passion but also his small eyes, his laugh, his voice, or the way he occasionally lifts his head to look at you while playing guitar and you smile and he smiles because you smile first shnshsbshs soft

even the corners of his lips are so cute wow

oh fuck im emo i love him

but you adore him just as a good friend

he’s always been bubbly and friendly with everyone, not just you, so yeah it’s really easy to fall for him but you assure yourself that you’re nOT

are we having “in denial” shit again omg im so uncreative

anyway fast forward it’s ur birthday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYY

you decide to throw a small party at your place and invite 5 or 6 of your closest friends but damn on the d-day it rains so hard

if ur bday falls on winter then change it to snowing hard, if it’s spring then maybe there’s strong wind or something, whatever suits you fam lol

so no one comes to your party lol you are Sad

BUT THEN!!!! JAE SHOWS UP!!!!!

PARK JAEHYUNG

OUT OF ALL PEOPLE

no you didn’t invite him because idk

are we really that close??? ehhhh he probably won’t come anyway haha why bother

BUT!!!! HE SHOWS UP!!! IN FRONT OF YOUR DOOR!!!

he’s carrying an umbrella but it didn’t really help apparently because he’s soaking wet

imagine that view i mean nvm

“i happened to be near here and i remember it’s your birthday today so i think i’m gonna drop by to say hi and suddenly it’s raining too hard on the way but anyway happy birthday can you let me in first i’m cold”

ofc you let jae in i mean we can’t let the chicken catch the flu amirite

but you warn him that he’ll have to leave before 11 or your RA will kick you both out the dorm lol

after a towel, two cups of hot tea, and one shared piece of chocolate cake, you told him you were supposed to have a small party tonight but no one could make it because of the rain and he’s like “hOW DARE YOU HAVING A PARTY BUT NOT INVITING ME I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL” and you’re just like “lol shut up chicken here eat more cake”

anyways you two spend time joking and talking about random stuff and it’s probably not the best birthday ever but at least you don’t have to spend it alone and to be honest you’re happy that he’s here

then jae pulls out his ultimate weapon

i mean his guitar

he was soaking wet but the guitar is clean and dry and all fine like hoW EVEN

“priorities” -park jaehyung

he said he gonna play a song of your choice because he came empty handed and he feels bad about it

you blush and pick whatever song comes to your mind because you can’t really think of any, and he starts strumming his guitar and sings

and while he keeps looking at you, you find yourself too can’t take your eyes off him

the song ends and you’re about to clap your hands when he suddenly starts another one

wait you’ve never heard this song before

it’s a slow song and the lyrics are all like, the sky turns dark on the birthday of the brightest star so that it’ll be the only light in his world, how he feels regretful that he has nothing to give but his small heart, and he hopes that this lovely person will hold his hand as they listen to this song together, that this lovely person will feel warm beside him

guys just imagine the song okay i can’t Romance

it’s dead silent until you whisper, “is that… a song for me?”

jae’s face turns red and he starts panicking™ like “i made up the lyrics just now okay i know it’s fricking sappy and cheesy as hell okay i just uhhh want to cheer you up!!!! because you seem kinda down!!!!! let’s not talk about this again uGh WhatEvER leT Me LIvE!!!!!”

but you chuckle and thank him, it was the best present you can get from anyone

you two stare at each other for a second that feels like years and he finally breaks the silence, “you know,,, maybe i came here on purpose,,, maybe actually i want to see you,,,”

“and why is it?”

“because i think,,, i miss you,,, kinda”

and you don’t say this out loud but maybe you do know that

even if you say you’ll never

in fact you’ve already fallen for him a bit

or perhaps a lot

like a lot

then he leans in to kiss your lips and you kiss back and it’s almost not awkward at all, it just feels right as if you’ve kissed him million times before

a l m o s t

you two still blush real hard after

but yeah that’s how you two start dating

none of you two tell anyone about it but it’s pretty obvious, i mean jae always picks you up at your dorm, he walks with you to your class or vice versa (if your classes don’t overlap tho), you two keep stealing glances at each others, also—

jae with you: “hey,,,, come here sit with me u3u,,,,, did you have lunch??? oh i wrote a song last night check this out,,,, what are you gonna do this saturday? oml you’re so cute”

jae with everyone else: “HAHAHAHA FUCKING FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING PRICK ALSO BRIAN FUCKING KANG IF YOU STEAL MY FUCKING FRIES AGAIN I WILL LITERALLY SNAP YOUR FUCKING NECK”

welp actually he’s not always sweet with you, sometimes you two still argue about silly things using mixed languages but now everyone in the club knows better to just run away once it begins

because it’ll end up with you two fighting or you two kissing

yes im nasty and a disappointment bye

btw wonpil is excited af it’s almost like he’s dating you both

“it’s really nice seeing you two finally together!!!!!!! especially because jaehyung really couldn’t shut up about you ever since the first day you joined our music club”

“wait wha-”

“YOU SNAKE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET FUCK OFF”

I’m so in love with park jaehyung y'all hsnshsbsh aNYWAYS!!! 100 blocks limit has lifted from tumblr app AYEEEEE

[lunebinnie]

(1/11)Oh my gosh yesss I'm glad that you like long messages too because I talk way too much 😂 (And yeah about my friend and just hanging out w/ her more that's exactly what I was thinking 😂) It's actually kind of funny bc just yesterday I was hanging out at her house and her younger brother needed to go to Walmart and I was like 'I've been meaning to go to Walmart, I'll take you' and ofc since I have a bluetooth radio adapter the whole drive I had my Spotify going with some quality k-bops, lol

2)And as we were driving I noticed him kind of jamming and I was like 'Oh my god Mickey do you actually like this???' And he was Like 'yeah, these are some good bops 👍' I was shooketh. I had to go home before I had the chance to show him any music videos but he says he's open to watching some with me next time I see him. One way or another I'm going to turn someone in my social circle into a kpop fan you mark my words ☝ and then maybe we can team up and try to work on his sister some more 😂

3)I only started first getting into kpop last June so I'm still very new, but it's definitely super frustrating how so many ppl act like it's an inherently bad or cringey genre of music just bc it's kpop! The stigma is ridiculous! I also started out with BTS (lol) and since they're pretty popular in the US at least I was able to be like 'See, this isn't just a niche thing, lots of people know abt and like this group' but of course my dad still says 'Just cause it's popular doesn't make it good'

4)And I'm like? You're a band teacher, you of all people should understand that music doesn't have to be in your native language (or even have lyrics) in order for you to enjoy it, but go off I guess... It's the same with one of my college friends. They make fun of me for liking kpop but this is coming from some who still treats March 22nd (the day My Chemical Romance broke up) as a day of mourning. Like, no tea no shade no pink lemonade, MCR was a good band nothing wrong with liking them.

5)But like if you're 22 and you still haven't grown out of your emo phase do you really have room to pick on other people for their music taste?  🤷 Anyway that's the person who follows my main that I didn't want to know I had a kpop sb. I think I made it around July. Tbh it was pretty dead for most of 2018. But like I said I've started using it way more since I recently revealed that it exists, lol. Especially since that good good Astro cb 👏💗😩 But honestly Astro is such a blessing

6)Idk how I lived so long w/o them. When I first got into kpop I was planning on just sticking to BTS since the reaction to me being into kpop was so volatile. I was like 'I'm only into one group, ppl already are negative about me liking kpop so I'm just gonna stick to this and not become a full on multifandom fan' and then in Nov I accidentally let myself fall in love with Monsta X and that plan was foiled. And realizing I wasn't gonna be able to stick to just one anymore opened the floodgates

7)And I was like okay in that case, let's just start getting into *all groups* Lol. My story of getting into Astro was actually bc of my best friend's roommate (can you tell I have like one friend and my whole social circle kinda revolves around her? Lol) so this roommate when she heard me being sad about having no kpop friends was like 'oh hey, I'm kinda into kpop' and it turns out she didn't like very many groups and was one of the ppl who blah blah BTS is overrated, which ya know isn't ideal8)But I was just really desperate to have someone to talk about kpop with. And Astro was her favorite so I was like, okay I'll get into them so that I have something to talk about with her! So I started watching some videos and I fell in love with them pretty much instantly! And I was real excited bc #1 now I can talk about kpop with someone! And #2 this group is actually amazing? Bonus! ... And then they got in a big fight about their living conditions and the roommate ended up moving out RIP

9)So that didn't work out, lol (Your story about finding them during that internship sounds amazing though! Haha) But yeah, so this is my first cb too! And although I love them w/ my whole heart and would have loved to have them in my life even sooner what an amazing cb to be your first! The concept was wonderful, the album was excellent, the visuals were to *die* for. They worked so hard and I'm so proud of them and I'm so happy we got to see their work come to fruition and get them a win 🤧🤧

10)The dance practices though? You're so right omg 💗 Me and my Rocky bias *fully* understand 😂 All of them are such good dancers?? I never fail to be impressed. Of course you know who I always end up watching tho 👀 lol (̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶l̶f̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶R̶o̶c̶k̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶o̶t̶w̶o̶r̶k̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶.̶.̶.̶)̶ ̶ I also love how at the end they always pause all dramatic for a minute and then start screaming 😂

11)It's like? Amazing talent *and* dorky personalities? What more could you ask for? Lol. In regard to your last question though Unfortunately I also won't be able to see them 😔 I live in the smack middle of the US and since they're only going to coasts all of the venues are way too far away to get to. Esp since it's the school year and I can't skip class to drive cross country for a concert much as I'd like to (Holy lord I talked over twice as much?? Why am I like this?) Talk again soon! -ASA

Okay SO I’m very sorry I haven’t had the time to answer everything until now bc I’ve been busy studying for midterms and also I was a lil trashy today since my uni closed bc of freezing rain so I slept in but I’m glad that FINALLY everything got sent like damn tumblr you really don’t want us making friends huh. 

Yessssss I love the feeling of seeing someone else also get into the same interests! I’ve been pretty lucky in the sense that I grew up around mostly other asian americans, so kpop was never something that was considered super “weird,” like some people were into it and some weren’t but even if you weren’t you still would’ve been familiar with the more popular groups from when you were younger. Even now, I have a bunch of friends also into kpop (one of them is even my roommate) so tbh I was definitely the one in my friend group late to the party aha. Even my university hosts kpop nights at our bar and I’m pretty sure we have a kpop dance team as well? So tbh if I met someone new there’s probably like a 50% chance they’re into kpop or at least listen casually. 

Tbh I used to be a little bit judgy too but moreso because of the obscene amount of money I’ve seen some of my friends spend (no joke one of my friends has spent probably like $500+ on Loona stuff in the past month and a half and another friend bought like 5 copies of the same album for herself like damn idk how do you have that much money).

I also really don’t like it when people bash other people’s music tastes, since I feel like it’s something so personal? Idk but for a long time I used to be really self conscious about sharing my music with other people and even now I feel like that sometimes. For me after getting into BTS I kind of expected to get really into other groups since I was in Korea anyway and I was already listening to a lot of other artists casually. For me it started with NU’EST (fell for them immediately at the same concert that I saw Astro at) and then after was Astro, and then I just started slowly getting into other groups after that (even though I haven’t totally been able to get into Got7′s music they’re SO funny and I just kinda fell for their personalities  you know). 

I honestly think that they did such a wonderful job with this comeback too! I like seeing their concept evolve and mature but they’re not straying too far from their original cute concept so I feel like it’s a nice middle ground that’s very unique to them, you feel? Also I feel like the visuals especially and the execution of the whole plant concept was just done so well?? Even my friend who’s not in kpop was like “k idk who they are but that was the prettiest music video I’ve ever seen”. What are your favourite eras and songs? For me I’d have to say either the Spring Up or Baby era BUT right now my favourite song is probably Again/Should’ve Held On though tbh my mood and my tastes change like every few weeks loool. 

I have no idea why I tend to be most attracted to the dances rather than vocals or rap (maybe has to do with the fact that it’s something I’ve always wished I could do but have always been bad at lmao). But Astro’s stood out to me for the exact same reason! I just thought it was so funny seeing them all break character at the end because you really get to see how hard their choreos are and you get a glimpse of their personalities like damn, how can you not stan these dummies?

That’s really unfortunate that you won’t get to see them either :/ They’re also coming to the closest city to me but it’s on a Tuesday, but I *hypothetically* looked up flight prices and tried to see if I could get away with just missing a day of classes if I flew back in the middle of the night since I have some friends who did the same thing and drove down to Buffalo but I seem to have underestimated the size of New York State LMAO. But apparently my university’s too far from the airport so it’s “not realistic” (and also I’m hella broke from travelling to Taiwan and Japan while I was in Korea but that’s a minor issue ig). I hope we do both get a chance to see them live though! Who knows, after the success of this comeback I’m expecting a lot more cbs and world tours out of them ;)

[ohstardust]

Rose Coloured Boy - [3/11]

Summary: Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x OFC Word Count: 2.2k Masterlist / Story Background / Playlist / AO3  A/N: I love building on friendships and showing how at ease some of these characters are with each other. Also, Sebastian does make an appearance in this part, this is the start of his regular appearance. Part 2 // Part 4

Damon loved to celebrate his birthday, had ever since he was still in nappies, and understood that it meant all the attention could be focused on him for at least a whole day. He certainly never made any secret of the fact to his friends. As he grew older, Damon pursued it as the perfect opportunity to round up his closest friends, and some not quite so close ones, and drink himself stupid until he woke up the following morning, unsure of who he was, and what age he’d become. He’d called it a tradition long before he’d turned thirty.

This year Eleanor had found her way onto his more extensive guest list for the celebration of his milestone birthday, he was desperate to introduce his neighbour to those few friends attending that had yet to meet her. And if he had Sebastian Stan in mind, then no one needed to know about that. “Aren’t you a bit old to be having a big piss up for your thirtieth, Damo?”  Despite the seventeen years she’d spent in America, her British inflections never left her, nor did her slang, all still very prominent, infused with a New York twang. Not like Sebastian, she’d noted during his roles she’d caught him in over the past couple of years, the way his accent had changed dramatically from the thirteen-year-old boy she’d first met. He’d been intent on changing his accent the moment he arrived in the States, eager to not stand out and appear like the rest of his peers. Eleanor hadn’t quite shared the same sentiment, but she supposed it was different for her, a British accent was a far cry from a Romanian one in a predominantly English-speaking country. “Excuse me little Miss ‘I’m still 29 for another ten months’.” She rolled her eyes at him and whipped him with the dishcloth as he rinsed off their dinner plates in the kitchen sink and left them to sit in the hot, soapy dishwater to soak. They were enjoying their Sunday night together, it being Eleanor’s only day off due to a gruelling 8 shows in 6-day long weeks. He promised her a home cooked meal to help her unwind, which in Damon’s terms means “I’ll order some take out and we can devour a bottle wine whilst you bitch about one of those girls in the chorus line who isn’t pulling her weight’. Not that she minded, not one bit. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to be friends with someone that old. It’s gross, I need to find some new friends.” Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes at his marginally younger friend, “You’ve still got that edge on Chace at least.” “Thank god, his youth will keep me sane,” she joked, her head tilted back, and the back of her right hand raised to her forehead. He shook his head and snickered at her, pouring them both a glass of red wine whilst throwing the take-out containers in the trash, “You’re ridiculous, why aren’t you ever this dramatic in public?” “I’m still trying to give off the illusion that I’m a fully functioning, and normal, adult. I save my theatrics for the stage and your apartment.” Damon snickered, and she flicked some of the dishwater at her friend before grabbing their glasses and wandering off to the living area, “El, you’re fooling no one.” “I didn’t say I was any good at it.” *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Damon’s phone had been buzzing for the past half hour and Eleanor was just about ready to snatch his phone off the coffee table and throw it against the living room wall just to make the vibration stop. “Will you mute that fucking thing or so help me god I’m breaking it.” “Someone has her panties in a twist.” She was tired, oh so tired from a long working week and the apprehension was gnawing at her brain the more she thought about Damon’s birthday the following weekend. He’d contacted his friends a few weeks back with the details, most thanking him for the invite with a promise to be there, but Sebastian had yet to reply and she was trying not to dread the idea of him showing up, she at least needed the warning, if not a confirmation of his absence. There would be no escaping him in a room full of their close friends. “I’m trying to concentrate on this film, put a sock in it.” Before Eleanor had the chance to react as it the device began to ring, he grabbed it and dug his toes in her side to distract her. “Sebastian Stan, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Her stomach sank at the confirmation of the caller, uneasiness working its way through her bones and settling in her chest. Instead of listening to one side of the conversation between her current and former friends, she took the opportunity to jump up and grab them both another beer from the kitchen. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous she felt for wanting to avoid him as much as she’d been casually trying to, the relief of hearing he wouldn’t make it to Lisa’s engagement, or Sasha’s birthday or Josh’s housewarming, seemed harsh and unnecessary. At twenty-nine years old, she realised she was too old for pettiness and trying to avoid uncomfortable situations. She was mostly to blame for all of this anyway, she knew she was and she wasn’t trying to shift all the blame in his direction no matter how hurt she had been for his willingness to let her go, so if the universe wanted to throw her a curveball by bringing him back into her life, then where was the harm in that? Where was the harm in apologising and moving on? Friends or not? She could do this, it’s not like she dwelled on this all that much, not on him, she just thought of him more often these days than she had in the paste years. Given the circumstances, it was perfectly normal. Eleanor undid the caps from the glass bottles, tossed them into the bin and curled up on the sofa beside her neighbour. “No worries man, thanks for letting me know and good luck. See you soon mate, bye.” She pretended to be focused back on the screen despite the paused imaged and raised her head as he tossed his phone beside him on the sofa, an eyebrow raised amongst a mouthful of beer. “He can’t make it, I guess this Marvel press tour is really kicking his ass.” Relief. Dread. Sadness. Disappointment. “I’m sorry.” He smiled over at her and locked her hand in his, rubbing over her thumb, his expression soft and understanding, “It’s not your fault, everyone else is coming. I suppose you’re pretty happy about it really, aren’t you?” She pondered for a moment, thinking of seeing him again, coming face to face with him amongst their friends, and this feeling of mild disappointment started to rise through her, “I thought I would be, but now I’m not sure.” I thought putting it off would make it easier in the long run but now I feel like I need to rip the band aid off and see him, make amends maybe. The conversation lulled following her light omission, they pressed play on the film and continued watching, trying to push all Sebastian thoughts from her mind. Sometimes I really wish Nina was still around, she’d know what to do. Perhaps we wouldn’t be in this situation at all if she hadn’t left. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- If there was one thing Eleanor had grown to love about parties and nights out with friends, it was being drunk enough to loosen up, to be able to move without reservation and to enjoy music the way she always wanted to be able to, night or day. Her arms were swaying, her hips swinging, and her laughter bubbling as she moved along with Lisa & Sasha, a few girls she wasn’t too familiar with also joining in to the sounds of Grace Jones. Driving down those city streets Waiting to get down Won't you get your big machine Somewhere in this town? Damon was embarrassingly drunk before 10pm and Eleanor supposed she’d better start downing some spirits if she wanted to match him, it’s what she deserved he kept reassuring her, spraying half of his drink all over her before he’d had chance to swallow it. She wasn’t all too pleased about that. The girls had been sharing stories, swapping gossip whilst dancing, laughing at their boyfriends who were too drunk to be dancing and gyrating the way they were. Yeah, Eleanor really ought to be far more drunk that she was. “Ellie bellie!” The birthday boy’s voice rang throughout the club, the upstairs of one of their favourite hangouts had been reserved for their large party and a bunch of the guest list turned their heads at the commotion of his obnoxious tone. He slung his arm around her neck and nestled in, smacking a loud kiss to her chin. “That’s gross. I thought I told you to fucking cut that out. It’s an ugly nickname.” The girls laughed beside the pair and moved with their partners who joined them for a slower song. One of Rhys’ arms wrapped around her from behind and kissed just below her ear, laughing at Damon clinging onto her other side. “You’re so boring, you old witch.” She smiled lovingly and patted his head, “No, love, that’s you.” As Chace came over to join them, a fresh drink in his hand, Damon perked up and raised his head with a devilish grin which usually spelled trouble right from the get-go, “The time has come for you to meet Taylor, he’s dying to meet you.” “Poor thing, he’ll be awfully disappointed.” “I tried telling him, but he’s still eager, go figure.” “Your friends are dumb.” “They’re your friends now too, remember?” “I’m sorry Rhys, but we need to steal this one away for a few minutes, you can have her back soon. God knows we don’t want her any longer than necessary.” Rhys fondly waved them off and raised his glass in acknowledgement, sitting himself beside Josh to engage in a conversation. With his flat palm pressed to the middle of Eleanor’s back, Chace guided her in the direction he’d spotted his older friend, Damon to her other side, hand gripping her elbow in anticipation and faux annoyance. “Fuck you too, Lovitz” “Don’t swear at the birthday boy.” “Stop provoking me then.” “Besides, you’re not really my type.” “For the final time, I can’t help the fact I don’t have a dick, I don’t love you enough to put myself through that.” “I hate you, leave my party at once.” “Just remember who’ll be tending to your hungover, sorry ass in the morning.” “You make a strong case, I guess you can stay with minimal distress.” Minimal distress would have been far kinder than what followed. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room the moment her gaze fixed on him, and immediately she felt sick and cringed at the embarrassing cliche that had encompassed her existence and mind. She vowed she wouldn’t be this weak willed and hung up woman, she was far too old for such nonsense. But being in the same room as her former friend felt far more restricting than she had expected, far more so than the small sadness she felt when she clocked a Gossip Girl rerun on television or The Covenant being played on the horror channel in the early hours of the morning. The first thing she noticed was he looks good, he looks really good. The second was, you shouldn't be here, you said you wouldn't be here. Her body had remained rigid for a moment, stopping her friends from moving further. It was overwhelming, but she reminded herself that she could do this, she was just caught off guard, that’s all. “Are you okay?” Chace asked, voice just loud enough to be heard with his mouth close to her ear but calm enough to not startle her. She could feel his hand pressing a little closer to her to try and keep her calm. “Uh-huh.” "He just showed up to surprise Damon, we didn't know." Eleanor mustered up the fakest genuine looking smile she could and cleared her throat, “I’ve got this.” The trio took a few more steps to join Sebastian who was animatedly chatting with Taylor, catching up on what Eleanor assumed they’d both missed on over the past few months of each other lives. It felt a dozen kinds of weird, and bizarre watching an older Sebastian standing before her, different from the boy she once knew in as many ways as he was still the same. Eleanor was almost certain she was having an outer body experience, that was the only explanation. “Good evening gents!” Taylor & Sebastian’s cut themselves off mid conversation to face them and Taylor smiled instantly as he took a step forward with open arms, “you must be the famous -“ Sebastian’s face had paled, and he looked stunned, jaw slack and eyes wide, his whole body had frozen at the sight, “Eleanor.” Fuck. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Rose Coloured Boy tags: @lovingfionn​, @lowdenglynnstyles, @outofworkactress

[bts-love-sweat-tears]

The Boy at the End of the World 1

Title: The Boy at the End of the World, part 1

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Type:apocalypse!au; dystopian!au

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,955

Listening to: “Diamonds” by Jauz ft. Kiiara (I feel like Jungkook would actually be into this song? Kinda matches his GCF sound; maybe a little too bass-heavy?), “Bad Liar” by Krewella

A/N: Wasn’t planning on releasing this yet, but here’s something for everyone who is going through intense Bangtan withdrawal with me. Seriously, when was the last time they went 5 days without tweeting? Ever? Ofc they don’t owe us anything but I MISS THEM.

I’ve been feeling like it’s the end of the world recently, with various heat waves and political news coming out of my country, which you can definitely see in this fic. On a lighter note, Kook has been making me swerve madly lately, and I’m usually immune to his charms (*lies*) anyway, Mercury is definitely in retrograde or something.

Again I’m playing around with first person-the reader is the narrator <3 For once, I’ve planned out in advance, so there will be more parts to this. But the One Ring Series is a priority for now…

In some ways, the end of the world was a blessing. Of course, that was only once you got past the rather large inconveniences of having no functioning public services, grocery stores, air conditioning, and law enforcement-in no particular order.

But if you could get past the complete and utter lack of structure, it was actually kind of…freeing. When people would run into others they had known before, they were mostly impressed to find each other alive, yardsticks of career, marriage, and educational institutions long since cast aside. As long as your basic needs had been met for the day (not as easy as it might have once seemed), you were free to do whatever you wanted. Which for me meant roaming to what had once been one of the largest riverfront parks in the city and sketching the remains of once shiny skyscrapers, which now resembled crumbling teeth.

Before the fall,I had wanted to be an artist. I’d like to think that I had the talent, but I wasn’t willing to suffer for it-not when I saw the trepidation on my parent’s faces. So I chose the “safe” route, going to school for chemistry and later getting a job testing and refining polymers for various industrial uses. It was vastly more boring-and comfortable- than the starving artist gig, but I liked the precision and attention to detail required. It kept me focused and helped the days go by quickly.

At night, I was still an “artist” in whatever small ways I could be, going to community classes, visiting galleries, and spending more than was strictly necessary at the supply store. In the end though, my responsible choices were all for naught. The unstable lifestyle I had worked so hard to avoid had found me anyway, through circumstances outside of my control.

The art supply store: probably the creature comfort I missed the most from before-the building remained, but the stash and the staff long gone. Walking past it hurt me physically, like running into an ex, so I tried not to. I rationed the pastels and watercolors I had, knowing that after they ran out, I would have to created my own. I knew I could do it, what with my background but it would take a lot of trial and error. Before, I could have just looked it up in the internet, but even that was long gone. Plus, making my own seemed to be a concession, a surrender, an acceptance.

Anyway, I digress. What it meant though, was that due to my seemingly endless supply of hotel and promo pens from years ago, I mostly did ink drawings, in a small leather-bound notebook, in my spot at the riverfront park, always during daylight hours. Night was too dark now that the electric grid was off more reliably than it was on. Even if you had a generator or had jerry-rigged some kind of electrical access, it was better to not draw attention to yourself, unless you had some way to protect what was yours. The country I was from had been relatively safe before the fall, but it was good practice not to risk it. I’d heard rumors of vigilante groups out at night, though so far I’d been lucky not to have any run-ins. Though the line between luck and preparedness was a fine one. Anytime I’d see something that didn’t quite sit right, I’d slip away, drawing as little attention to myself as I could manage. Over the years, I’d become quite good at evasive maneuvers-surviving solo in this new world was no easy feat. I wish I could say I was braver than that, but it had kept me alive for this long in a city decaying from the inside out.

That’s another thing I should make clear- that although those of us who are lucky enough to still be around call it “The Fall” like something sudden, the end of the world was actually a gradual process. Maybe someday, historians (if there are such people still) will assign a set date, Even if they do, it will be for the Jenga block that toppled the tower, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sure, there were events large and small than led to this, but there were larger trends long before: unjust laws, political despots, environmental degradation, job loss, internal and external terrorism. It was like we tripped and were falling in slow motion, but we couldn’t see our fate until we hit the ground, already bleeding. These were useless thoughts to have, far too late to do anything about it, but they kept me up at night, wondering if I were complicit in myriad small ways for not doing more when I could have, the selfish desire for a quiet life overpowering all else.

The only time I was untroubled by these thoughts or the minutiae of my daily survival was when I was sketching. My mind didn’t wander and despite the limitations of my pen and paper, I was there fully, thinking only of the sunlight on the water, the shade of the clouds overhead, untroubled by the collapse of society below, how to best capture the breeze visibly. People would sometimes come up and watch me. I was always polite, but never took the conversation further than was strictly necessary. Normally they would drift off to seek a more willing conversation partner.

The last few times I’d gone to the park, however, I’d been haunted by a silent boy. Or man-I’d found it impossible to discern his age. He had traces of lingering baby fat, giving him a look of youthful innocence. But I could tell even through his oversized t-shirt that he was built. Not many people had the protein to spare anymore, so this told me that he was either very adept at surviving in this new world, or had people taking care of him. I didn’t ask questions. I couldn’t decide if he was the deer in the metaphorical headlights, or if I should be wary of him, the bunny pursued by the wolf. Everything was survival of the fittest in this world, and at first blush, he was definitely more fit than me. He had never done anything other than watch me sketch, but sometimes when others would approach, I could see a fierce, guarded look in his eye. But the siren song of my partially inked pages called me back, and I soon grew so accustomed to him that I could forget his presence at my back.

We likely could have continued forever in this way, me sketching and him silently at my back had it not been for my encounter with one of the vigilante groups I so feared. I was just arriving back from foraging in one of the now-overgrown parks, when I noticed a shadow slip stealthily past the window of my second-floor apartment-from the inside. With the subsequent adrenaline rush, I was able to hear snippets of a too-casual conversation. The voices were far too relaxed to be inexperienced-whoever was ransacking my apartment had done it many times before, and little fear of retribution. The lack of a visible lookout should have been a clue as well. Without a moment’s hesitation, I slipped back into the lengthening shadows of the early evening, knowing that I was outnumbered and not violent enough to confront them.

I had no plan but I knew better than to roam the remnants of the city looking lost. My purposeful, confident (though false) strides led me back to the riverfront park where I often sketched. Somehow, a solitary bench had been spared from the societal fallout, not yet stripped for kindling or god knows what else. I plopped down, allowing myself to take the first full breath since encountering the renegades at my house.

I was regretting my decision to remain in the city. Before the Fall, I had been a competent young professional, with my own place and all the independence that entailed. My parents had long since retired to their remote lake house, more of a glorified cabin than anything else. I had held on until the final moment, never fully believing that things would fall apart, even as gas was rationed, phones and internet went down, the lights flickered out. I thought my job would keep me safe. By the time I was ready to go, I would have had to walk or bike. Even though I knew the way, I could not be sure what I would encounter in the wilderness past the city limits- at least  here I knew what to expect. The devil you know,and all that.

I sat there, lost in my thoughts and cursing my previous naivety. As I pondered my next move, a towering figure lowered down next to me. I jumped, adrenaline from before still coursing through my veins, and berated myself further for letting my guard down yet again so soon. But my heartbeat settled somewhat when I noticed that it was only my sketching companion.  We sat silently, together but apart, and I was surprised to find that I found his presence comforting. When he spoke, his voice was smoother than I would have expected, a youthful edge still hanging on. It occurred to me that he might actually be younger than me, though I had no way of knowing.

“What are you doing out here so late?” He asked, a crease of concern marring the space between his brows. In my previous life, I would have dismissed such a question as patronizing, but now it only seemed curious that he had observed my coming and going so closely.

I paused, biting my lip. On the one hand, it would be a relief to share something of myself with someone. My mysterious friend had never given any indication that he meant me harm. But hadn’t my current predicament arisen because I had become too comfortable, too complacent? I knew literally nothing about him. He must have sensed my wavering, but he didn’t push it and I was grateful. You might think it awkward, but I found his silence a gentle acceptance that my frayed nerves needed in that moment.

The light faded further and the sky became that velvety indigo that can only be seen on those rare perfect summer nights that I used to take for granted but hadn’t seen in so long. If I hadn’t been so anxious, I would have appreciated it more, and would have wanted to linger longer. Though I no longer enjoyed the night, I felt inexplicably safe with him by my side. As the stars began to come out, he stood up to go, moving almost imperceptibly in the darkness.

“I should get going, or my hyungs will worry,” he said, hesitating. “My name’s Jungkook, by the way.” Though I couldn’t see his face well, the slight tremor in his voice made me thing that he must have been nervous. Did I make himnervous? But before I could continue down that particular train of thought, he continued.

“I know it’s not much, but you’re welcome to come with me. Normally you would have left by now….my hyungs are kind of crazy and loud, but mostly harmless. Only if you want to, though,” he trailed, running his hand through his overgrown hair.

Though I’d been wavering about admitting to needing help since we had sat down, the fondness in his voice when he talked about his brothers had convinced me. With only a little trepidation, I stood up and followed him into the night.

[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging nettles 22

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 21 - Chapter 23

Chapter 22- Repercussions

~~~

And we try and try to figure out what "normal" is around here. Is "normal" solving murders? Is it saving one another from the week's newest maniac? I can't imagine any of us in a nice little house with a fence and a dog, so what is even "normal" anymore?

~~~

The first video showed up the next day.

Amelia had been alone in her room when she screamed, throwing her phone across the room, bringing down a few plants when it hit a shelf.

By the time Sherlock and John got to her, she was in her closet, blanket over her head, hyperventilating. John coaxed her out and Sherlock watched the clip with a steely expression.

Later that night, Mrs. Hudson’s cell phone rang an achingly familiar American Country tune floating from the downstairs, the landlady complaining that the ringtone was different.

The second video appeared on the tele when John and Amelia were waiting for Sherlock to return from a case at the Yard a few days later.

This one was similar to the one that John and Sherlock had received back in December, except Amelia was ripping at her arms, screeching like a wounded animal. It replayed, over and over, and when John finally ripped the power cord from the wall, it popped up on their cell phones and laptops.

Amelia didn’t say a word, eyes glazed over while the screams permeated the walls of the only safe place she had in this world.

When they met with Mycroft at the Diogenes Club, he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He kept his questions directed to John and Sherlock, only being straightforward when Anthea stepped in and offered to take Amelia for some lunch.

“We know he’s a madman,” Mycroft waited until the door was shut before speaking. “And it’s clear what his game is at this point.”

“What about the court? Amelia’s therapist should have submitted-,” John offered, only to be cut short by more bad news.

“Thrown away,” Mycroft looked like he was seething at the news. “All three judges voted against a criminal proceeding against him, though they were willing to move forward against the board at Chemco.”

“He’s the one that bribed them,” John snapped.

“He likely bribed the judges as well,” Sherlock muttered, earning a grunt of agreement from his older brother.

“He also gave one of my agents this,” Mycroft held up a USB that was sitting on his desk. “After he was released from custody.”

“And what’s that?” John demanded, still seething from the previous news.

“It’s the entire surveillance footage from December,” Mycroft’s focus fell on his younger brother.  “Everything up until the moment we knocked on the hotel room door. It isn’t pleasant, but I think you should see it.”

Sherlock wordlessly reached for the device, fumbling with it a moment in his hands before tucking it into his jacket pocket.

“What now?” John asked the brothers. Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged uneasy glances before the older brother spoke.

“We move onto the next case,” he replied tersely.

John fumed out of the room at that, leaving only Sherlock and Mycroft in the ornate office.

“Would you like some advice, dear brother?” Mycroft leaned back on his desk, watching Sherlock. “Move forward.”

“It’s not so simple,” Sherlock replied, standing up and straightening his scarf.  

“It is once you detach yourself from your self-blame,” Mycroft noted firmly. “The only person to blame is James Moriarty.”

“How bad is it?” Sherlock held up the USB.

“I felt sick to my stomach by January,” Mycroft answered truthfully.

“I shouldn’t have let it go past twenty-four hours,” Sherlock pocketed the USB and started for the door. “Let Anthea know we will be meeting them.”

~~~

No one knew how to handle themselves after that.

Sherlock, against both Amelia and John’s insistence, watched the video.

After a few days, John skimmed through it as well, shutting himself away in his room for a few days. He wouldn’t leave her alone after that, treating her like a fragile glass figurine.

Both men refused to let Amelia have access to it, but Amelia knew exactly where to look for the USB, finding it tucked inside of the skull on the mantle.

She saved it to the same drive as the Chemo data, returning it less than an hour later, no one was the wiser. Amelia knew she needed to get her nerve up to watch it, unsure of what she’d find on the other side.

She told Ruthie that she was staying with her mother, then boys she was staying with Ruthie and her mother that she was staying with Molly, and checked herself into a hotel across town. Under her fake ID, of course, knowing that neither Sherlock nor John had any reason to know that particular name.

She brought a small bag of clothes, two bottles of wine, and her computer. Hooking the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door to her room. She pressed play, the video starting out familiar; her escaping the room after shoving Moriarty, the subsequent capture, and so on.

She sped up the time, watching scenes she recognized, and slowing it when she didn’t recall something.

The whole thing had sound, and she winced when she heard some of the beatings, and gagged when the force-feedings started, all were still relatively clear in her memory. What she didn’t recall was those last few weeks to days.

There was more blood than she remembered, between vomiting and fighting back as much as she could. At least Amelia could say she fought like hell to the very end.

What broke her heart were the times she was tied in the metal chair, whispering to herself, occasionally screaming for help, begging for John and Sherlock. Or the times she had what she’d thought were full conversations with the detective but were actually incoherent ramblings of her talking to herself out loud.

All in all, it wasn’t quite as bad as having experienced it herself. There was certainly savagery that she didn’t quite remember, but the incessant sense of dread was all the same.

That was when she realized that the video wasn’t ever meant for her.

It was meant for everyone else.

She returned back to Baker Street a day later, Sherlock demanding to know where she’d been, and she handed him her laptop, disappearing to the basement while he opened it.  

It was only fair that they all be on the same page, she later defended when John asked why Sherlock wouldn’t leave his room.

Amelia knew that they’d all have to confront each other about it eventually. There was no way they’d all be able to move forward without having done so. Sherlock was the one who made the first move, crawling into Amelia’s bed one night, wrapping his arms over her.

“I understand if you want to leave,” his voice rumbled against her back.

Was that what he was worried about?

“And go where?” she asked, still facing away, her hand finding him and tracing circles over his palm with her thumb.

“Back to Brooklyn? Away from all of this,” he replied.

Away from me, she could hear between the lines.

“None of this was your fault,” she stated, hearing his breath caught when she spoke.

“Moriarty targeted you because of your relationship with me-,” he began and Amelia rolled to face him, scowling at his insistence.

“All of this happened because I couldn’t listen to you for five seconds and not taunt the bad guy,” she replied sternly.

“It’s a defense mechanism, you didn’t know any better,” he countered. “You were kidnapped because of me.”

“I was kidnapped because some guy has this insane obsession with you and your magnificent mind,” she tapped his forehead lightly. “How is that your fault? You can’t control other people, as much as I know you wish you could.”

He huffed in response.

“I should have found you then,” he corrected. “Rescued you before…”

“The crazy guy did crazy things to try and make us all crazy?”

“Stop brushing this off!” he protested, voice cutting the still night air. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“You’re trying to justify your self imposed misery,” she murmured softly, reaching for his cheek and running her thumb over the skin soothingly. “You can be angry and sad, but don’t put it on you, put it on the person to blame.”

He sat upon his elbow, looking down at her, his expression impossible to read in the dark light.

“Where have you been?” he whispered, fingers tangling themselves in a few of her stray hairs on the pillow.

“I was on Bleecker Street for a while in college-,” she teased, silenced when a small smirk tugged at his lips. He was so pretty, her mind buzzed, the dim street lights catching the subtle blues of his eyes.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he continued, his brows furrowed a moment, as if he was trying to analyze something.

Slowly, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

Amelia reciprocated in kind. It was the type of kiss that had them panting, and Amelia desperately wanting to pull her nightclothes off, but he caught her by the hand before she could grab the bottom of her shirt.

“Not… not yet,” he rumbled, pulling her to his chest and wrapping an arm over her.

Sighing, Amelia peeked up at him with a pout.

“Making me wait,” she grumbled, earning a light chuckle from her companion.

“It’ll be worth it.”

“Don’t make checks you can’t cash, Holmes.”

~~~

Elsewhere in London, behind expertly trained marksmen and steel doors, James Moriarty stared at the wall while another hapless MI6 agent tried to get something of use out of him.

It was to be expected, after all. He had a brilliant mind and those in power feared those more clever than them. They usually wanted to extinguish those minds or exploit them.

Still, he was enjoying the brief respite from his obligations. There meals a day, a bit of peace and quiet- lots of time to think. Unfortunately, it was when these agents came by and rambled on and on about negotiations or how he can help the world, he grew weary.

What could they offer? He had anything he could have ever wanted in terms of material goods. Immaterially, he had power, influence, and ruled over his global kingdom with fear.

He heard the shift of the agent leaving the room, the door not quite closing when footfalls stopped a few meters away.

Someone new, he realized with a small twinge of excitement, freezing and waiting for them to speak first. He never wasted his time with such boring things such as small talk or reasoning.

“What if we discuss Sherlock Holmes?”

Chapter 23